As soon as the Marines and their escort were out of the room, Roosevelt rounded on King. “Ambassador, what the hell is going on?” He asked. The effort seemed to drain him. “Who has planted a bug in my office?”
He looked stunned. King didn’t blame him; thousands of secrets were discussed in the White House. “The prime suspect is Hoover,” King said. Palter nodded. “The technology is derived from civilian technology, rather than military-grade.”
“That bastard,” Roosevelt hissed. “He’s a law unto himself! He’s up to something, but what?”
“Perhaps he wants to blackmail you,” Palter suggested. “Have you heard anything on the grapevine?”
“Not much,” Roosevelt said. He seemed older than ever. “He seems to be working with the House Committee on Un-American Activities, and with several influential Senators, mainly from the south. They’ve been eating up his Negro subversion theory with gusto; they want to believe it. They’ve even got that insufferable prig MacArthur lined up as the opposition candidate for 1944.” He scowled. “Whatever happens when he faces military men seems not to matter in front of a crowd, and whatever else you can say about him, he is a brilliant self-publicist.”
“So… perhaps he wants to force an impeachment,” King suggested, after a moment’s thought. “Can he do that?”
“I don’t know,” Roosevelt admitted. “Did you know that the British have been asking us to move up the timetable for Norway?”
King shook his head. “Because of the war in the Middle East and Australia?”
Roosevelt nodded. “The Japanese seem to have a secure foothold,” he said. “The British are proclaiming that they’ve cut the supply lines, but so far there hasn’t been a decisive battle.” He scowled. “I was going to invite you to the strategy meeting before you called. Colonel Palter, haven’t you taken part in something like this?”
“Only in Iran,” Palter said. “Very different terrain and enemy forces.”
“Come anyway,” Roosevelt said. “You might know something useful from the future.”
King asked Marine Lieutenant Bosco to sweep the meeting room before the meeting, but it turned up negative. He deployed a white noise generator anyway, just in case. The generator should have been undetectable, but he could have sworn he saw some of the younger officers looking around for the source of the strange semi-noises.
Eisenhower opened the meeting, having flown back from Britain on one of the handful of 747 jets. “The British are being sorely pressed in both Australia and the Middle East,” he said. “They want us to move up the operation for Norway, with a provisional start date two days from now.”
“Their own stupid fault,” Admiral King proclaimed. The commander of the Atlantic Fleet was known for his hatred of the British. “They just had to send their fleet off on a wild goose chase.”
“Enough,” Roosevelt said sharply. “General, you’re not President yet.” There were some chuckles. “Now, can we launch the invasion for the 25th?”
“Yes, Mr President,” Eisenhower said. “George has worked wonders with the infantry forces; we’ve even managed to work out a joint Army-Marine doctrine.” He grinned mischievously at Admiral King, who glared back. “The only question is that of the Navy; can it do as it has promised.”
“You get the transports loaded up and ready to go and we will do our share,” Admiral King said icily.
“Thank you,” Eisenhower said. “The British have suggested that the carrier aircraft be used for escorting the invasion fleet, they have promised to handle the task of attacking the German forces on the ground for us. There are three target sets, to use their terminology; German bases and troops on the ground near the invasion zones, German forces elsewhere in Norway, and possible sources of German reinforcements in Germany itself and Denmark.”
Admiral King glared at him. “They want all the glory for themselves,” he sneered.
“Actually, they warn that it’s hard for their systems to tell the difference between our planes and the German planes,” Eisenhower said mildly. He looked up at Roosevelt. “We have four carriers and seven battleships in the fleet,” he said. “In the waters around Norway, it won’t be a contest. The only question is can we make a beachhead before the Germans counterattack?”
“And can we?” Roosevelt asked. “This invasion must succeed, Admiral.”
“We have practiced the invasion in the Scottish Islands,” Admiral King said. “We can do it, particularly if the British manage to keep their promise and knock out most of the Germans from the air. Once we get established, the main thrust east will be launched from Bergen; we’ll head over the mountains and into Oslo.”
“This is important,” Roosevelt said. “It is imperative that we win this quickly; Norway must be taken to serve as a bomber base” – LeMay looked pleased – “and a Naval Base for future attacks against Germany. Admiral, General, America is counting on you to provide a victory.”
“It seems as if it will work,” Ambassador King observed later. A messenger came in and passed a slip of paper to Roosevelt. “Once Norway has fallen, we can dislodge Sweden from the German alliance and then…”
Roosevelt chuckled, interrupting. “This is the news from Australia,” he said. “The British fleet just destroyed the Japanese fleet.”
“That’s good news,” King said wryly. “At least there won’t be any Pearl Harbour in this timeline.”
“We can move the ships back into the Atlantic now,” Roosevelt said. “Once the new fleet is built up, we’ll have a navy second to none, except the British.”
“We’ll develop the technology ourselves,” King assured him. Marine Lieutenant Bosco entered the room. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“We just finished the sweep of the White House,” Lieutenant Bosco said. He picked up a map of the building. “There were five more devices; three in meeting rooms, one in the President’s bedroom, and one in the kitchen.”
Roosevelt blanched. “I’ll have him put on trial,” he thundered. “That rat bastard has gone too far for whatever cockeyed reason he’s come up with and…”
“Wait until after the Battle of Norway concludes,” King suggested. “That way, you can handle him on the wave of popularity.”
Roosevelt nodded. “I suppose a couple of weeks won’t hurt,” he said. “I’ll put out feelers anyway, just to find out what the bastard is up to.” He picked up a sheet of paper. King recognised it as the order authorising the offensive. Roosevelt signed it with a flourish and sealed it in an envelope.
“In my time, the signals were electronic,” King observed. “I wonder how Eisenhower would feel about that.”
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Northern Offensive
Over Norway
25th May 1941
“Ah, darling, I think I’d better pull out now,” Flying Officer Victor Abernathy said, as the Eurofighter’s fuel tanks completed their refuelling. “I don’t want to fill up too much.”
“Can’t keep it up, eh?” Flying Officer Sheila Dunbar asked dryly, holding station nearby. Her Eurofighter had been refuelled already; the RAF had deployed nearly thirty Eurofighters to the mission, along with a small fleet of Tornados. “ I knew there was a reason why you refused my offer.”
“Oh, shut up,” Abernathy sighed. The night before, Dunbar had invited him to bed with her; he’d declined. “Sierra-five, Charlie force is ready to go.”
“You are cleared for your mission,” the distant voice of the AWACS operator confirmed. “Godspeed.”
“Let’s take it deeper,” Dunbar said, and kicked her Eurofighter forward. There was no need to stay in formation, just to remain close together for mutual support. “Any target in particular?”