“Ignore them,” he said. “Inform the ASW ships; the Japanese are not to be fired upon unless they move into attack positions.”
“Aye, sir,” Lewis said. His voice betrayed his bafflement. “Sir, the fleet is ready.”
Turtledove looked down at the display. Forty-one ships; Royal Navy, converted freighters, even some new construction. Five carriers; two real carriers and three converted oil tankers. It was the largest force that the Royal Navy had deployed since Suez, and for a far better cause.
“Order the fleet to set sail,” he said. “Take us out.”
When a ship is moving along the coastline, it is easy to tell that the ship is moving; the land glides past at a rate of knots. In the empty ocean, there is very little sign that the fleet was not alone in the world, not even birds and islands can be seen. The only excitement was on the second day, when a shoal of whales swam past.
“We have to get the conservationists moving into action sooner in this timeline,” Turtledove observed, relaxing for the first time since the war began. “Think how many species we could save.”
“The Indian tigers would be glad of it,” Patel observed. He’d been disturbed by news from his family; their return to India had been distressing. “All the princes hunting them down.”
Turtledove had shrugged as the days slipped by almost unnoticed. He spent most of the day brooding in his cabin; he’d been blamed for the Battle of the Indian Ocean, despite having won the battle. He knew that the Board of Inquiry had suppressed the report, and with good reason, and it boiled away inside.
Not given to self-introspection, Turtledove flumed angrily. The Royal Navy hadn’t fought a major sea battle since 1941; who would have thought that the Japanese would have been crazy enough to continue on into the teeth of the task force’s superior firepower? Even the awards and medals piled on the navy didn’t take away the sting of the armchair admirals questioning his decisions.
Even worse was the news from Australia. The Japanese had landed, as he’d expected. The war wasn’t going well, even for them. Turtledove had ordered that news kept from the crew; enough crewmen were questioning the decision to continue after the Japanese fleet already.
They think we’re on a wild goose chase, Turtledove said. He knew that that wasn’t true; Trafalgar continued to send regular updates. The Japanese were moving southeast, heading on a dogleg towards the United States. Absently, he wondered if they meant to strike at Pearl Harbour, but then dismissed the thought. The Japanese hadn’t moved anything into position to strike at the Philippines, and they would hardly want to risk the Americans tearing their interior lines to shreds.
We need the new submarines, he thought. The British shipyards had begun producing dozens of diesel-powered submarines, most of which would be transferred to Australia and Canada. Their navies would crew the new ships, and Japan would starve. Days passed and he kept repeating that to himself. Japan will starve.
“Admiral to the Combat Information Centre, Admiral to the Combat Information Centre,” the loudspeaker bellowed. Turtledove jumped up from his bed, where he’d been dozing, and grabbed his cap. There was only one matter that it could be; the fleet had been detected.
“Admiral, we’re about to enter the range of the Japanese fleet,” Lieutenant Lewis reported, as Turtledove strode into the CIC. “The Captain wants you to issue orders.”
Turtledove looked down at the display. The Japanese fleet had been sighted by a drone launched from Ark Royal, which was now hovering high over the fleet. They didn’t seem aware of the British ships. They’d left any Japanese submarine behind long since, and whatever primitive radar detection systems the Japanese had would be unable to detect them at extreme range.
“Any sign that they’ve seen us?” He asked, studying the display. The only real danger was the Japanese launching a massive air strike and swarming them under by force of numbers.
“No,” Lieutenant Lewis said. He hesitated. “Hang on, sir, they’re launching aircraft.”
Turtledove blinked. “What the hell?”
“It looks like a standard CAP formation,” Lieutenant Lewis said. “Sir, they’re not launching a strike, but they must have had a sniff of us.”
“How?” Turtledove said. “They can’t have seen the drone?”
“It’s supposed to be very difficult to see, even on radar,” Lieutenant Lewis said. “Perhaps they just caught a glimpse, or maybe the drone’s radars confused theirs, which also shouldn’t be possible.” He scowled. “Sir, they’re also launching recon seaplanes.”
“Bring the fleet to general quarters,” Turtledove snapped. “We’ll ask any survivors afterwards.”
The device proclaimed itself to be a ‘Sierra-Foxtrot Emissions Detector, capable of detecting even low-level active sensors.’ Commander Sato, who’d been ordered to learn about the new technology, wondered where the hell the Germans had gotten it before they’d shipped it to Japan across the Soviet Union. According to the manual, the device was designed to save energy on radars by tracking other radars… and was coy about the uses to which the device might be put. Sato, who had spent time chasing Chinese smugglers, expected that its real purpose was to watch for other radars, ones attached to navy drones.
Such as the one hanging overhead, he thought, staring upwards. The Japanese hadn’t even had a hint the drone was present until it activated its radars and began to probe the task force. It wasn’t as helpful as he’d hoped; the drone was well out of range of anti-aircraft guns and there were still no traces of radar from the British ships he was certain were around in the vicinity.
“Launch recon fighters,” Admiral Nagumo ordered, as the Zeros kept on permanent standby launched from the carriers. “Prepare for a shipping strike, using the new tactics.”
Sato bowed. The new tactics were kamikaze; attempting to slam an aircraft into a British ship. Given how untrained the new pilots were, he suspected that that would be the best that they could do… unless…
“Incoming,” a watchman shouted. Sato looked up to see the streaks of light and the sky and knew that time had run out for the Imperial Japanese Navy.
The Japanese fleet had no secrets from the drone. It floated overhead; calmly dissecting the Japanese ships and transmitting the information back to the fleet. It noted the launch of the Japanese reconnaissance planes calmly; it would be at least half an hour before they could find the British ships, even if they flew directly towards them. With the search pattern they were beginning, they would take hours to locate the British.
That was what old fashioned carrier warfare was about, Turtledove thought absently. The two sides sneak around trying to locate the others first… and he who sees the other first wins – normally.
“Designate the first salvo of Harpoons,” he ordered. Not only had the missiles been modified with extra explosive and penetration power, but the fleet now carried more of them, even if they couldn’t all be used at once. “Launch CAP, launch AEW aircraft.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Lewis said. The RAF had modified a Gulfstream transport for AWACS-style duties, and loaded it onboard one of the converted oil tankers. The scream of aircraft engines echoed through the hull. “CAP launched.”
Turtledove smiled as probing radars began to illuminate the miles of empty water. “Launch Harpoons,” he commanded. “First round; designate enemy carriers and tankers.”