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“So what are we going to do?” Kelly looked at him, stroking his chin.

“We’re going on offense,” said Paul. “We’re going to attack. I said it earlier, and it looks like it’s coming down to exactly that. We’ve seen how futile it is to try and restack the cards defensively. Let’s face it, Bismarck had more than a good chance of making it safely to a French port. That she failed to do so hinged upon a number of very shaky events, any one of which may be sufficient to decide things in her favor if it fails to occur. It was sheer luck that the British got that hit on her rudder near the end. But, by God, we have to sink that damn ship—one way or another. It’s the only way we can reverse this intervention. We have to go on offense here and sink the Bismarck.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Maeve gave him a salute. “But isn’t that what we’ve been trying to accomplish all along? You have a new idea here?”

“That I do,” said Paul. “It occurred to me when I realized that bit about Resonance. If we can sample Resonance filtering in from other possible Meridians in a Nexus Point, then the Assassins can too, just as you suggested. And if this is the way they ran this mission, then we have to fight fire with fire here. We can’t go about trying to uncover and snuff out their intervention. We have to counterattack, and we use the Golems to sample Resonance until we come up with something that sinks her.”

“But what, pray tell, do we use for ammunition?” Maeve was still playing devil’s advocate, but Paul gave her a knowing smile.

“Information,” he said quietly. “Knowledge is power, right? And we know the entire history of this very famous battle, from one end to another. Remember that movie called Final Countdown? It was about a modern day aircraft carrier that gets transported back in Time to the eve of the attack on Pearl Harbor. They knew exactly where and when the Japanese were going to attack, and with that knowledge that single ship could have taken out Nagumo’s entire carrier task force.”

“That’s the flick with Kirk Douglas!” said Kelly. “But they don’t do that in the movie.”

“The point is, they could have,” said Paul.

“Well we don’t have an aircraft carrier to spare here either,” said Maeve, “at least I didn’t see one down in the garage.”

“But we do have information,” Paul said coolly, “information vital to the outcome of this battle. You’ve heard the expression ‘loose lips sink ships?’ Well we’re going to loosen up these lips, ladies and gentlemen. If we get the right information to Royal Navy Intelligence, at the right time, then my bet is that they’ll do the rest of the work and sink the Bismarck.” He looked directly at Maeve, because he knew his suggestion was fairly radical. It was her watch on Outcomes and Consequences that had set the rules and parameters of past operations. What he was proposing now was probably going to sound treasonous to her, perhaps even insane.

She thought for a minute, saying nothing. Kelly looked at Paul, then Maeve, but neither one spoke. Paul had learned a good lesson selling shoes as a very young man. In any sales situation there comes a moment in the pitch where you toss the question to the customer, and then shut up. Nine times out of ten the person who speaks next loses. He had made his proposition and he simply folded his arms, waiting.

Kelly was just about to say something, but he saw Paul move a hand slightly as if to wave him off. Then Maeve broke her silence and weighed in.

“Explain,” she said, angling for more clarity. “How do you propose to notify British Intelligence?”

Paul had not thought through all the possibilities, but he was relieved not to hear a flat out NO on Maeve’s part. This was a fairly direct tampering with the course of events. He was amazed that she held her composure, and he crept carefully into a few possibilities, hoping he would not end up in a long argument.

“Most signals traveled by wire,” said Paul. “Agents and operators were all over Europe—coast watchers, the Free French underground, and British and American agents as well. They sent lots of coded messages by cable, and there were also established telephone links. The Admiralty had a direct secure line out to the Admiral of the Home Fleet where he rode at anchor in Scapa Flow.”

“You’re suggesting one of us goes back and cables the Admiralty?”

“That’s about the size of it,” said Paul. “Would you like fries with that?”

Kelly smiled. “It’s a good idea, Maeve,” he chipped in. “Doesn’t sound dangerous, either. All we’d have to do is get to a telegraph station—anywhere. We could shift into merry old England and waltz over to the telegraph office, send a nice cable to First Sea Lord Pound, then find a good pub and have a few brewskies!”

Maeve angled her head to one side, lips pursed with a look of admonishment that soon gave way to a smile.

“For that matter, we could even run a Spook Job,” Paul suggested. “A quick in and out.”

“You want to toss the First Sea Lord an apple or two?” said Maeve.

“Well, we’ve seen the technique work once already to save all Christendom and the Western world,” Paul smiled.

“With a little help from yours truly, and a good Arabian stallion,” Maeve returned.

“Right,” said Paul. “And look how we received that invitation to send Robert back. You see what I mean? A message can travel much easier than a person—and with very little risk.”

“Assuming it gets to the right hands,” said Maeve. “The Admiralty doesn’t have a working Arch, do they?”

“No but they’ve got working telephones. The key thing here is that it’s the information that’s decisive. In this campaign a little foreknowledge goes a long way. Our adversaries knew exactly where to aim their kick. They took out Sheffield in this instance, with a very simple intervention using that fishing trawler—I’m sure that’s what they planned. They may not have known what the actual outcome would be in the beginning, but my guess is that they thought it would weaken Force H in some way, or simply strengthen the German hand by sparing Gneisenau. They probably had no idea it would even work—“

“Until it did work,” said Maeve.

“Right you are,” Paul continued. “They got the result they were hoping for and we got Palma. Now… there are loads of other vital points in this battle that we could impact with crucial information delivered at a key moment. We can operate just as they do. We get information to key players in the scheme of things, the Primes, and then we sample Resonance from here to see if it has the desired effect. When we get an outcome that ends up sinking the Bismarck, we can go have a good pizza and hopefully get some rest before the next alert goes off.”

Maeve shrugged. She realized what this meant—direct intervention, providing information that the Prime Movers in the scenario would not have been privy to. It had real risks, but the more she thought about it the more she came to conclude that the impact would probably be limited. It might affect the outcome of this battle, and then stop there, at least she hoped as much. And how was this any different from making sure a bishop and his family get cut down by Dodo and his armed thugs while you stand there watching, fully responsible? Kelly was correct when he said this was wartime now. The gloves were off. Bismarck was fated to die, and all they would be doing is making sure she meets her appointment with a couple of British battleships.