JUNE 18, 1945 1:35 PM EST
USS Marblehead
Captain Kraker folded his arms as he leaned back against a bulkhead in the officer's mess. It had been cleared out and sealed, leaving himself, Doctor Pritchard, and his three guests. He had seen a lot during this war, but never anything such as this.
"I still cannot believe it," he finally said quietly.
"Believe it, Captain," replied Henry Morgenthau. The Secretary of Treasury had changed out of his dampened, torn clothes and had been given a spare set of clothes. Thomas Prichard, the ship's doctor had examined him and determined that aside for various bruises he simply was suffering from exhaustion. A thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders and holding a cup of coffee, the caffeine kept the fatigue at bay. For the moment. Morgenthau took another sip and said, "I was there. I saw the Prime Minister for himself, and had I not done so I never would have believed such a story to be possible. He is,
unwell."
"That he would have ordered the
Bearn attacked. My ship attacked! My men!"
"The lives of you and your crew are inconsequential at this point, Captain," came the reply from the other end of the room. Ian Fleming ran his hand through his still wet hair and added. "There is far more at stake for him now. If the world were to know that Churchill had ordered the
Bearn attacked first, that the French were merely retaliating it would shatter the Allied Coalition. And if they were to know that he had then ordered the assassinations, the bombings..."
"The British Empire would become the new Reich," added Stuart Adams. He shook his head. "We may all as well all be Nazis in the eyes of the world."
There was silence for several moments. No one spoke as the light cruiser sliced through the waves, the only sound the hum of her engines.
"How many know the truth?" asked Kraker.
"Far less than you might realize," replied Fleming. "Aside from the men in this room, and the crew who have seen us thus far, just Major General Donovan. He pulled the necessary strings to redirect your ship for the pickup at Tintagel. Nobody under him knows yet. Or over him."
The
Marblehead's captain sighed. "We cannot remain in a state of isolation indefinitely."
"For now, we must. By now Churchill must know something. Gubbins' men were there to intercept us at Tintagel. But it is a large ocean, Captain. And we are Allies." Fleming groaned, rubbing his shoulders. "No, we must do what your Major General advised. Maintain radio silence until we are at least half way across the Atlantic."
"Will that work?", questioned Kraker.
"The evidence - all of it - is here. It has to."
1:53 PM EST
London
Ernest Bevin was uncomfortable sitting at the Prime Minister's desk. For how long it would remain unoccupied remained uncertain. They had received word that Churchill's condition had stabilized, but his return still more of a matter of it, and less about when. Still, the office within the bunker was almost completely sound proof, and what Major-General Colin Gubbins had just said certainly could not be shared outside the confines of the room and to the participants within. Not that he would have wanted to. The news they had just received could cause an incident, if not an outright panic.
"Are you sure, General?"
"Quite certain," replied Gubbins. "The traitors in this government, we know that not all of them have been rooted out. And perhaps some of them have taken hold within the American government. But that is an issue for another time. Right now, we know with certitude that the
Marblehead was lured to within miles of our shores under false pretenses. That the ship was swarmed and boarded. And that the ship's company and crew are now quite dead. The Hun now control that vessel."
"What could possibly be their aim," asked Andrew Cunningham. The First Sea Lord appeared dismissive. "It is an American light cruiser. An old one at that. Do you propose that they intend to shell us?"
"Not with conventional shells. You are aware of the progress German atomic weapons program, sir?"
"There was no progress," dismissed the Sea Lord. "At least nothing that could manifest itself into the weapons that we feared."
Gubbins pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Cunningham. "These are intelligence reports, photographs, and testimony from captured workers on the nature of the Nazi nuclear weapons program. While a bomb was not produced, we do know that they have generated copious amounts of uranium oxide. And therein lies our threat. Per the intelligence that we have received which is in that binder, we believe that the Germans intend to use projectiles that are saturated with these materials. Whether they can hit individual targets with their 150mm cannon is irrelevant. That they can contaminate entire regions is what is pertinent in this situation."
Cunningham clenched his jaw and closed the binder. "How can you be sure that they can retrofit American munitions for such a task?"
"Our intelligence indicates training with American POWs. Perhaps with the help of Japan before German's supposed surrender. Irregardless, this is what they intend to do."
"Dear Lord," gasped Brendan Bracken. "They must be stopped!"
"Indeed," replied Gubbins. "That is why I have requested all of you here. Prime Minister Churchill was aware of this threat, but chose to keep it compartmentalized for the sake of sensitivity in our relations with the Americans. Now, I have no choice but to share it with you all."
He turned and faced that map of the North Atlantic on the wall. "We have one item in our favor," he said quietly. "We know roughly where the
Marblehead is. And we do not know for certain that the United Kingdom is the target. There is equal reason to believe that New York may be the intended point of attack."
"We must alert the Americans!" cried Bevins in alarm.
"I would strongly advise against that. The Prime Minister was quite concerned about the effect on our relations with them if such a plan were to reach fruition. As much as we may not wish to admit it, we need American resources and funding. This sort of incident - Germans working in collaboration with British sympathizers might push public opinion away from our Empire at a time that we need their assistance the most."
Gubbins turned to the Sea Lord. "Sir, we know that there is a rogue German submarine still out there. The same one that attacked the
Bearn. It is still unaccounted for. Any misfortune that befalls the
Marblehead can be attributed to this craft."
Cunningham was silent, staring at the leader of the Special Operations Executive.
"Sir," said Gubbins. "We must do this ourselves. Can we count upon the Royal Navy to execute this task?"