The three men huddled together at the back of the FV432, and Popski stood respectfully off to one side, waiting. He had heard more than he expected in the briefing, and more than he could get comfortably under his belt for the moment. Yet here were two British Generals taking the whole matter in hand, and with the utmost seriousness. The Russian Captain was also there, waiting while Kinlan activated a digital map of the region.
“Captain Fedorov, that was one hell of a story,” said Kinlan.
“My Captain says that is not too far off the mark,” said Popski. “It has been his private hell for a good long time now, and while sharing it here might offer him some relief, he knows that he has laid a heavy burden on your shoulders, and those of all your men.”
“That he has.”
Fedorov spoke again and Popski interpreted. “I took a grave risk in telling you this, and I hope that all I have said concerning the importance of secrecy was taken to heart.”
O’Connor had listened, dazed and confused at the outset, but then slowly embracing another mood, one driven by a burning inner energy. At one point he had quietly tapped his riding crop on his thigh as Fedorov spoke, his mind galloping ahead like a wild beast, seeing a thousand possibilities if this incredible story was true.
“You know what this means,” he said, looking from Kinlan to Fedorov. “Why, if this is true then you know everything-the history, the war, the outcome of all this madness.”
It was a question Fedorov had been waiting for, and he turned to O’Connor now, knowing that silence on this subject would only invite frustration. Yet his answer was much the same as the one he and Admiral Volsky had given Tovey.
“Yes,” he began. “We know how these events once played through, but our presence here in the past, and the actions we have taken, have obviously altered the course of events, as I tried to describe in my briefing. The Germans never took Gibraltar in the history we know, nor did they ever put troops onto Malta. These developments will make for a dramatic change in the course of the war here, but the most critical change is the civil war that continues within my homeland. It took a strong, united Soviet Union to defeat Germany, and that was with all the might of Great Britain and the United States thrown into the equation as well. General O’Connor, the Germans have committed no more than two divisions here at this point. Yet before this war ends, they will field over 300. Understand? Britain has not yet faced the real strength of the German war machine, and so the outcome of events now is completely in doubt. I know you look to me as a signpost with knowledge of all that is yet to come, but that is not so.”
“But surely you can provide the most valuable intelligence we could ever possibly want,” said O’Connor. “Why, you at least know what did happen once, and whether we stumbled here or prevailed. I’m no fool, and I know that mistakes are made in war by men who have every good reason for acting as they do. You know all of this, the victories, the blunders, the wrong turns and dead ends on the long road ahead.”
“Yes, what you say is true, insofar as any of the history holds true. In some ways it does echo our own history. Your first offensive, for example, was known as “O’Connor’s Raid,” and from what I have been able to determine, it played out much as it did in our history-a bit early, but the outcome was the same. Yet listen now, General, in the counter offensive now underway our history records that you never made it safely back to Alexandria, and not because your Blenheim crashed here in the desert and you met up with us. No. Both you and General Neame stumbled right into a German column and you were captured. You spent the next several years as a prisoner in Italy, escaping in December of 1943.”
“I see… 1943, you say? So we have a good long slog ahead of us, do we? The war drags on another two years?”
Fedorov was reluctant to get into a discourse on the future course of events, but he knew he had to give O’Connor something here, if only to impress upon him the true gravity of what they were all now facing.
“This war goes on a good while longer than that. It eventually ended in 1945.”
“And we prevailed? General Kinlan is standing here with his brigade, so we won the damn thing, yes?”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, knowing that answer would put at least one thing into O’Connor’s soul-hope. “A grand alliance was formed between Great Britain, Russia and the United States. Together we defeated the Axis powers, in a long and bitter struggle that consumed all of Europe and Asia, and lasted until late 1945.”
O’Connor’s eyes narrowed, an expression on his face akin to that of a hiker looking up at a mountain he must climb, knowing he could get to the top, but realizing the agony and hardship that climb might bring. Fedorov continued, needing to emphasize the key point he had been trying to make.
