“Any other problems?” Hull was disappointed by the blunt rejection of the initial plan.
“Navigation will be the big one. We have homing beacons at all our staging points and the pilots fly to them. You won’t have that for this flight. That alone rules a flying boat out. After three thousand miles, you could be hundreds of miles off and one lake or bay looks much like another. No, if this is going to work you need a landplane and you need the best navigator in the world. He has to fly that aircraft right to the airfield and get down first time. He can’t mess around flying search circles or he’ll have fighters on his back.”
“We haven’t got a landplane that can make a direct flight from the East Coast to Scotland and back. Not yet anyway.” General Arnold sounded depressed. He’d seen the hurried first report on the cavity magnetron as well and wanted more. “We could fly in from Iceland, though. We have a base there; the British occupied it under Churchill in May and the Marines took it over immediately after Halifax pulled the plug. The last thing we wanted was an enemy-controlled base that close to us. A Flying Fortress could get from Iceland to Scotland and back. If a suitable airfield in Scotland can be found, of course.”
“That doesn’t solve the navigational problem.” Hunderford was slightly relieved at the course the discussion was taking. He had been terrified that one of his beloved Boeing 314 Clippers would be commandeered for this madcap mission.
“If we’re going to use the Flying Fortress, it might well. Remember the interception of the liner Rex a couple of years back? Well, the intercept was plotted by a Lieutenant Curtis LeMay; he gave up flying pursuit ships in order to become a navigator and a bombardment man. Well, he’s a Captain now and he’s available for this mission. Jack wanted the best navigator in the world? He’s it. I can even offer you some aircraft. The British wanted Flying Fortresses, so we have arranged for twenty of the new B-17Cs to be delivered off the production line for them. The first B-17C flew a few days ago, but there is no way in hell we’re going to deliver the British ones. Not this year and not next year when they were due to get theirs. We can paint that prototype B-17C up in British colors and fly it over there. With LeMay doing the navigation, we’ve got a good chance of pulling this off. Worst comes to the worst, we can always claim we were delivering the aircraft according to contract.”
The meeting cracked up laughing at the idea of an unannounced
midnight landing at an unknown airport in potentially hostile territory being a delivery according to contract. Eventually, Secretary Stimson wiped his eyes and shook his head. “This might just be crazy enough to work. Find that Captain LeMay. Tell him what needs to be done and see that he gets the mission ready. This raises another question, in passing. Those twenty B-17Cs the British wanted aren’t all the aircraft we have stockpiled here for them. My staff tells me we’ve got 230 Hawk 75s of assorted types, 250 P-40Bs and P40Cs and a hundred Hudsons all sitting on airports waiting for an owner. Why hasn’t the Air Force taken them over?”
“They’re all export birds, Mister Secretary. The Hawk 75s have 7.5mm French machine guns or .303inch British ones. Their throttles are French-style, meaning the pilot has to pull them back to increase power, not push them forward. There’s other differences as well; mostly metric instrumentation and minor differences in the engine. The P-40s aren’t really P40s; they’re Hawk 81s. Wrong caliber machine guns again, French-style throttles and instruments, different engines. They’d need a major rebuild to make them suitable for our use and they still wouldn’t be up to the standard of the current production models. All taking them over would achieve is slowing down production of the ones we really need. We’d be better off giving them away. I reckon the Chinese could use them.” Arnold looked around to see the other members of the meeting nodding.
“Not just the Chinese.” Cordell Hull was thoughtful. “If we get Churchill out, he’ll set up a government in exile. All the British Dominions and a fair number of colonies are sitting on the fence right now, waiting for a lead. He’ll give it to them and they’ll tell Halifax to stuff his armistice.”
“Why?” Arnold had assumed the rest of the British Empire would follow London’s example.
“Because they’re like us in 1776. A few polite requests and words of regret for offense unwittingly caused would work wonders, but Halifax won’t give them. He’s like every other weakling who has been bullied all his life. When he has a victim of his own, he takes all his own life experiences out on them. Given a lead, the Colonies will stay in the war. I feel sure of that. Even if they don’t realize it themselves, they’re looking for an excuse to cock a snook at London. And when they do, we can offer them a whole new air force, all of their own.”
“One other thing.” Stuyvesant looked at the files he had in front of him. “We touched on this earlier, but it’s becoming a critical issue in our evaluations. We don’t have a bomber that can get from the East Coast to Berlin and back again. Even if we use Iceland as a forward base, that’s a long haul. If we are going to prosecute the coming war from here, we’re going to need an aircraft that can do that.”
“We surely will. You’re an aircraft man, Stuyvesant. As an investor, at least. Would you care to go over to Boeing and Consolidated and get briefed on what their aircraft can do? Seeing what they have in mind might help you get the plan of attack more clearly defined.”
“I’ll do that, Sir.”
“Welcome to Bangkok, Igrat. How do you like our new airfield?”
“I prefer flying boats, Snake. So much more comfortable.”
Suriyothai smiled at the use of her nickname, something that was known only to a tiny handful of people around the world. “We don’t have suitable landing points for flying boats. I’ve looked. It has to be land planes, which is a problem for us. Long haul airlines are built around using flying boats. Anyway, what have you brought me?”
“We came across this in our business. You know we are working for the U.S. Government now?” She handed over the Noth report, complete with its bloodstained cover.
“I do. I was pleased to see Phillip has finally admitted the correctness of my opinions.”
Igrat sighed. The relationship between Stuyvesant and Suriyothai was complex. On some levels, he was her mentor and teacher; on others the two were deeply divided. Their personal relationship added extra layers of complexity to the cocktail. While the two had some pretty spectacular rows over the years, their mutual respect had avoided the simmering dislike that existed between Stuyvesant and Loki. “He hasn’t. We are simply acting as advisors and analysts, providing that leadership with accurate information it can rely upon.”
“Being part of the political leadership here works. And this isn’t being involved in politics?” Suriyothai tapped the bloodstains on the cover.
“That wasn’t us. That was Loki.”
“Ahh, this comes from him then.” Suriyothai grinned broadly at Igrat who was distinctly uncomfortable at having been caught. “Sit down while I glance at this.”
Igrat watched while Suriyothai started to read the Noth report.
Quietly, one of the maids brought in a bowl of fresh fruit and a pot of tea. The minutes ticked by as Suriyothai thumbed through the pages. Eventually, she looked up at Igrat. “And what did Phillip think of this?”
“He said it was probably the dumbest strategic idea he had ever read. And given some of the strategic plans he has seen over the years, that is saying something. After he finished making choking noises, he said it was a typical product of an amateur strategist who had no idea of logistics, movement constraints or political realities.”