The Dead Alone (Empires Lost Book 3)

by Charles S. Jackson

  “You think they’ve taken a more circuitous route?” Thorne asked with deep interest.

  “I do,” Tennant confirmed without hesitation. “Naturally, nothing German gets through, and even though we believe Berlin has had occasion in the past to slip the occasional commercial vessel or surface raider through flying a Japanese flag, we’re also watching them closely, considering the current political climate in the region. Naval Intelligence suspects some raiders have been taking a big detour south, possibly stopping off for refit and supplies at the Kerguelen Islands on the way, before turning north again on the others side, staying out of range of our patrols out of Diego Garcia. We’ve had patrols checking that area as often as we can, but it’s a lot of ocean to cover and it wouldn’t be too hard for a single ship to slip by undetected down there.” He shook his head, as if dismissing the idea within his own mind.

  “In any case,” he continued, “we’ve not had any Japanese shipping through that area in the last month either, something that in itself is unusual that we’re still investigating. What we believe may be happening in this case is that Kormoran has assumed the identity of another nationality and is attempting to sneak through under a neutral or even allied flag, something they’d be unlikely to try too close to our largest naval base in the region.”

  “They’re cuckolding us…?” Eileen observed, almost smiling at her own unusual analogy.

  “In a sense, I suppose they are,” Tennant agreed with a nod and a smile of his own. “We have agents in place at Diego-Suárez, one of whom has access to departure and arrival lists at the port. Not a single one mentions anything about Kormoran – nothing surprising in itself – however between the Ninth and Tenth of October, we do have record of the arrival and subsequent departure of a Norwegian vessel named Herborg. It’s the only vessel we can’t account for either coming or going, which isn’t surprising considering we have evidence to suggest she was captured and sunk two weeks earlier by another German raider operating out of that same port. Naval Intelligence in Singapore has been working independently on this information for a while but we’ve not had a name to put to the vessel until now…”

  “I’ll be buggered…” Thorne breathed softly, taking in the depth of what the captain was saying. “Do you have anything else to back this theory up?”

  “Not much,” Tennent admitted, still smiling with confidence, “however we do have another commercial vessel operating in these waters that’s failed to report for over a week now… a Dutch freighter named the Straat Malakka out of Batavia. She was working a regular route shipping coal and other goods from Fremantle to Ceylon, and her last reported position was…” he continued, staring down at the map for a moment as his finger wavered “…right here: one hundred nautical miles south of the Cocos Islands, five days ago, heading west…”

  “…Which would be right on the money if you were heading up into the Dutch East Indies for air cover before turning north for Ceylon…” Thorne noted, playing Devil’s Advocate.

  “Also a perfect route if you were intending to cut through the Dutch East Indies somewhere and then turn north for the Molucca Sea instead,” Tennant pointed out with a wry smile. “Bit of a hike if you’re heading for Tokyo direct, but not far at all from the Jap naval base at Palau. Nice safe run north to the Home Islands from there any day, and there’s not a damned thing we’d be able to do about it.”

  “Worth investigating, I’d say.”

  “Melbourne agrees with you, air vice-marshal,” Mountbatten advised. They’ve directed us to request that one of you be detached from the task force and seconded to a small surface group currently on patrol in the Banda Sea, with the intention of carrying out a thorough search for Kormoran to put an end to this once and for all.”

  “I’m not sure I like that idea, vice-admiral,” Thorne countered evenly, mostly hiding the unease he felt over the idea of being separated from Eileen under the current circumstances.

  “I understand completely,” Mountbatten empathised. “The Prime Minister sends his apologies, but unfortunately the orders are clear. They made no specification as to which of you was preferred for either task…”

  “I’ll go…” Donelson said immediately with a shrug, as if the decision were crystal clear.

  “Why you…?” Thorne asked sharply, struggling to keep most of the emotion out of his voice in recognition of the professional setting.

  “Because you’re the historical expert, and you’ll have a far better insight into whatever you see while in Singapore than I ever will,” she explained without hesitation. “Also; I’m the tech expert, which means I’m far more qualified to tackle a nuclear device, if indeed we manage to find one. I could go into detail about the reasons why, but now’s not really the time, is it? Maybe I can fill you in later too? What about the Haguro…?” Eileen added quickly, not batting an eyelid over the unexpected change of plans.

  “We’re monitoring her movements for the moment. We have surveillance operating on most of their major ports and installations…” Tennent advised with confidence. “Wherever she docks next, we’ll know about it and when we do, we’ll be in a far better position to work out where she’s been.”

  Thorne remained silent during that whole exchange, an expression of stony displeasure on his face. He already knew in his logical mind that everything she’d said made perfect sense, yet at the same time, his gut instincts were telling him exactly the opposite: that Eileen leaving the task force at that moment was an exceptionally bad idea. He also noted that she’d fired his own poor joke back at him in a tone that had sounded slightly defensive, as if he’d somehow insulted her. Thorne recognised some of the warning signs from previous experience, and although the reaction surprised him, he was smart enough to keep himself in check nevertheless.

  I actually concur with you on this one, the voice in his head echoed softly, the fact that it was In agreement doing nothing to calm his mounting nerves. We don’t like it either, but you’ve heard her tone: you know you’re not going to win this one, and no one else here is going to understand why you’re fighting it.

  Fuck…! He thought sullenly, not liking anything his own, twisted thoughts had come up with either.

  You said it, brother…

  “Very good then, captain,” Mountbatten declared. “You’ll fly out first thing in the morning for Penfui – Dutch Timor: from there it’s a far shorter helicopter ride out to the heavy cruiser Canberra to join the search. We’ll all be departing for Singapore before noon ourselves – just a few more supplies to load in the morning.”

  He rose from his seat, causing everyone else present to follow his lead.

  “We’ve a few more briefings to attend this afternoon, but the rest of the morning is currently free… would either of you care for a tour of the task force?”

  “If it’s all the same, vice-admiral, I think I’d rather be shown to my quarters…” Thorne begged off, suddenly feeling quite worn out. “It’s been a long night and day of travelling and I’d be happy for a rest…”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Eileen agreed quickly, knowing full well there’d be some ‘discussion’ about what was happening the moment they were in private, and wanting to get it all out of the way as soon as possible to avoid making the whole thing any worse than necessary.”

  “I understand completely,” Mountbatten demurred graciously with a tilt of his head. “I’ll have my orderly run you both down to your quarters. Your luggage should be there by now also. You’ll be able to get a shower and freshen up. Shall we see everyone back here by thirteen hundred?”

  “Very good, sir,” Thorne acknowledged, feeling so out of sorts he didn’t even think about what he was doing as he came to attention and executed a perfect, text-book salute.

  Oh, Lord, this isn’t going to be good… Eileen thought silently to herself as she watched the display, also quite able to recognise warning signs.

  “I’m really not bloody happy about us being separated like this,”
Thorne launched in the moment they were alone inside his quarters – a far smaller room that had been accorded the vice-admiral.

  “We have our orders, Max,” she countered immediately, conscious that he was making an exceptional effort to remain calm despite all the physical indicators he was displaying that told otherwise. “This is the most logical allocation of our abilities. You’re the history nerd and I’m the boffin, yes? Would you even recognise an atom bomb if you came across one…?”

  “Neither of us is a nuclear physicist,” he pointed out, mostly keeping a lid on the sudden, inexplicable desire within him to either burst into a rage or fall into a complete, shivering mess over the whole thing.

  “No, we’re not,” she conceded with a wry smile, “but I at least have an engineering degree and have practical experience with industrial design and electrical drawings. God forbid, we come across one of these things and it’s armed…! What hope would you have of disarming it, short of just ‘cutting the blue wire’ like in some Hollywood movie…?

  “It’s not safe…”

  “And being here is…?” She shot back. “I know this history as well as you do…! They’ll have Indomitable with them now, and air cover from Singapore, but you know what happened in Realtime: both of them sent to the bottom by the Japs hours after the declaration. The Germans call it ‘Synchronicity’ – if that happens in this case, how safe will you be…?”

  Okay, dude, she’s got you on that one…

  “Alright, alright… Jesus…!” Thorne gave in finally, sagging onto the narrow, single bunk fixed to one wall. “I just want you safe, okay?”

  “Okay… what’s brought this on, now…?” She asked gently, recognising there was something far deeper behind his uncharacteristic reaction as she sat down beside him. “What’s happening in there that you’re not telling me…?”

  They locked eyes, staring silently at each other for a long time as his terrified, almost hunted gaze was met with one showing only concern. A decision was made within his own mind and he sagged visibly, releasing a long sigh of acceptance.

  “Back at Kibrit… when that last rocket hit…” he began slowly, and she was deeply moved as she realised there were tears now at the corner of his eyes. “I saw it explode… saw the blast rise near the gate…” A single tear coursed slowly down one cheek as he lifted one hand to caress her hair softly. “I saw you die…” He breathed hoarsely, the rawness of the emotion he was feeling almost more than he could bear. “In that moment, I knew I’d lost you… and part of me died at the same time… I can’t go through that again…!”

  “Oh, love…” There were tears in Eileen’s eyes now as she took his hands in hers and leaned in until her forehead was pressed gently. “I’m a big girl, now” she whispered, drawing a smile from him in spite of his fears. “If Jerry couldn’t get me in North Africa, what chance to a load of Japanese have…?”

  “I’d feel sorry for them,” Thorne croaked, making a feeble attempt at joking himself out of his sudden despair. “It’d serve ‘em right if they tried anything…!”

  “And don’t you forget it, Jimmy…!” She agreed, exaggerating her own Glaswegian accent as she reached into the pocket of her pants and drew out a handkerchief, handing it over. “It’s not just your arse I enjoy kicking every now and then!”

  “Just take ‘em all for a run…! Like Kransky, they’ll be pleading for mercy after the first five miles!”

  And there it was: one mention of that name completely changed the tempo of the conversation, somehow for both better and worse as a dark frown spread across Eileen’s face.

  “Aye… God, I hope he’s alright…” she murmured, her eyes fading into memories for a moment as Thorne sat back a little, nodding in agreement as he wiped at his red-rimmed eyes.

  “He will be,” he assured. “Like you, it takes more than a few thousand bloody Krauts to give him any trouble. “He’ll turn up soon enough, and we’ll get him out of there.” He paused for a moment, his thoughts also disappearing into the recent past. “In a few weeks it’ll be the anniversary of the surrender,” he pointed out, sounding more like himself once more. It’s becoming easier to think about all this as reality… to think of what we left behind as the dream...

  “There’s a darker side to that, too,” he added, thinking about Briony Morris as Eileen turned far enough to sit back on the bunk, leaning up against the bulkhead. “Do you know Australian Aboriginals don’t even have the right to vote, yet? Bloody Mal out there, by the current laws of the land, could actually be classified under the title of ‘flora and fauna…?” Although he’d already known it for a long time, that fact nevertheless left him feeling vaguely sickened and ashamed. In the future they’d left behind, the right to vote was a sacred right of all Australians – compulsory, in fact – and that Indigenous Australians hadn’t been accorded that right until the late 1960s remained as shockingly unbelievable to him now as it had so many years ago when he’d first learned of it as a child.

  “Aye, there’s bad in this era as well as the good…”

  Here we go again…! The voice echoed, seeing what was coming.

  “You can say that again,” Thorne declared, staring to feel much better and deciding to stir the pot a little to lighten the mood. “Women aren’t getting paid anywhere near as much as men, and if a woman working in the Public Service gets married in this era, she’s required to resign! But like you said, there were some bad things about this era too…!”

  “You bloody pig!” Eileen squealed with indignation, raising her fist as she turned back to face him. “That… will… be… quite enough… of… that… sexist… rubbish…!” She punctuated each word with a solid punch to his shoulder, producing a strange mixture of mirth and cries of mild pain.

  “Okay, okay…!” He cried painfully, his laughter subsiding along with her blows. “You win, already!” He collapsed backward, falling onto his back on the bed as he swung his legs up to lie across her lap. “Rest assured that your gallant fight for women’s liberation has left me completely knackered!” He lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. “Shit, would you believe it’s past eleven already…? No wonder I’m buggered – we’ve been travelling all bloody morning and most of last night, and we’ve still got those bloody meetings this afternoon!” Donelson shifted her position also, squeezing in between him and the wall and laying her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. He was sounding more like his old self now that moment of despair had passed, and she was starting to think he was finally okay again.

  “Feeling tired, are you?” She asked with more outward innocence than she intended, glancing up at his face as a finger played vaguely at the collar of his shirt.

  “You’re bloody hopeless!” Thorne laughed softly, knowing exactly what she meant as he laid his head back on his pillow. “And your lot reckon men are only after one thing!”

  “Well I’ll tell you, sonny; there’s no hope of me wantin’ you for your mind!” Eileen said with a dry smile. “What’s the matter, you think the bed can’t handle it…?”

  “On the contrary...” he shot back, giving the mattress beneath them one or two exploratory prods with his index finger. “Being a navy bed, I’ve no doubt it’s copped a hammering in its time…only difference now’s that there might be a woman on it for a change…!”

  “Oh, very bloody funny...!” Eileen muttered, shaking her head and trying to sound offended over the aspersions he was casting regarding her chosen service – one she honestly considered to be the senior.

  “How soundproof you reckon this stuff is…?” He wondered aloud, lifting his other had from its resting place on her shoulder and tapping the steel bulkhead behind them to produce a reassuringly solid ring. “We don’t want to be disturbing the neighbours…”

  “We’ll just have to be quiet about it, won’t we?” Eileen suggested softly, pushing herself forward far enough kiss him deeply, her chest pressing tightly against his.

  “You’ve said that before...�
�� Thorne pointed out with an eager grin of his own, suddenly finding a renewed sense of energy as other parts of him began to wake up in earnest.

  “Serves you right for putting so much effort into your work then, doesn’t it!” She countered quickly. They kissed again, and for a little while at least, all thoughts of the ‘neighbours’ and the rest of the world around them were completely forgotten.

  The same helicopter was waiting for Eileen as she and Thorne stepped out onto the rear deck of the Repulse, early that next morning. The sky was a pristine, cloudless blue above sparkling water as they paused for a moment by the battlecruiser’s Y-turret.

  ‘Wish me luck, then,” she chirped, trying to sound upbeat despite her own silent misgivings as she shifted her duffel bag from one shoulder to another.

  “Always,” he answered immediately, forcing his own smile and feeling conflicted by a desire to kiss her that would’ve been completely inappropriate in such a setting. “What was it you said to me at Scapa Flow… when I was about to shoot through with Kransky and Ritter?” He asked, unnecessarily adding “Be careful…!” as she nodded in memory.

  “I seem to recall you threatening to kick my arse if I said that to you…”

  “Guess you’ll need to come and do the same to me when you get back…” He grinned in return, mostly managing it honestly in that moment. “Seriously: no silly shit… play safe, and don’t take any risks!”