“But we don’t know them,” Maeve protested.
“Wait a second…” said Kelly, sitting up in his chair, his attention suddenly drawn to the Golem module. My, my. Yes we do!” He pointed to the Golem screen, active again, lights winking on and off, colors migrating on the chronology line indicating fresh new data was resolved from the stream and coalesced into a valid potential outcome. “It looks like Golem 7 is leading the charge again, and the others have finally reached a weight of opinion,” he said excitedly.
“No,” said Paul. “But three Prime Movers in this very room just did, and I think our resolution here has just broken the log jam. As long as we were in doubt, unresolved, with no clear path ahead, the Golems were lost in confusion as well. But we just set our minds on a course of action, and it’s already had an effect.”
“God help us,” said Maeve.
“Alright then,” said Paul. “You say you have an old US officer’s steamer trunk, Maeve? Drag it out. Here’s what I propose we do…”
Chapter 23
“We are fifty miles ahead of them by now,” said Lindemann. “It’s not a safe margin yet, but the initiative is ours, sir. We can turn southwest into the Atlantic at any time and meet up with a tanker.”
It had been a long 24 hours since that first brief engagement with the British fleet. Bismarck and Prince Eugen had steamed south at good speed, slowly pulling away from the British main body, though a pesky light cruiser had dogged their heels for some time. At dawn and dusk she seemed to disappear, and Lütjens took heart, thinking they had thrown off the pursuit at last. But by mid day she was there again, re-directed by Swordfish off of HMS Victorious equipped with Type 279 air to surface search radar.
“Those antiquated planes haven’t dared to try and mount another attack,” said Lütjens. “I doubt if they will try again today.”
“They are using them as search planes now,” said Lindemann. “But I think we must turn again, Admiral, and soon. We have two choices. Either we make for Brest and join Scharnhorst and Gneisenau for a major operation in the months ahead, or we go it alone in the Atlantic. Our fuel situation will determine the wisest course. If we shake off the enemy for certain, then a rendezvous with a tanker is a practical choice. We could ask for a U-boat screen in that event.”
“But if they still have our location, the time it would take to refuel both ships would give them a very good chance of catching up.”
“I don’t think they know where we are, sir,” said Lindemann. “That cruiser has disappeared again.”
Lütjens considered his options. “And what if we fail to find a tanker in short order? How much fuel do we have for regular operations?”
“Two days, sir,” said Lindemann. “We must rendezvous with an oiler or reach a friendly port in 48 hours.”
The admiral thought for some time on this. Bismarck had broken out, at little cost, but she had no laurels to take home should they turn for a French port now. Yet the prospect of leading his old battle fleet of Scharnhorst and Gneisenau out, this time with Bismarck as the flagship, was a powerful lure.
“This latest signal from Group West,” he said, holding up the translated cable. “It seems the British have put together another heavy convoy with reinforcements bound for Alexandria. We’re beating them about the head and shoulders on Crete and the rush is on to get reinforcements to that theater. Group West is of a mind that this convoy is now lightly defended.”
“Sir?” Lindemann found it hard to believe that the British would take such risks.
“Yes, Convoy WS-8B was spotted and her position fixed. We lost a big Kondor seaplane tracking her. The convoy put to sea and was joined by HMS Britannic, the fast troop ship that has been running to New York. The Georgic is also steaming in that convoy. What trophies they would make, eh Lindemann? And there are other prizes to be had there, numerous troop ships were reported. There were no battleships spotted with the convoy either, most likely reassigned to look for us! But now we will be more than happy to take on that duty for the British. Group West gives her position and heading to the east of us, between our position and Brest. I want to turn 70 degrees to port and head east at your earliest opportunity. We will catch this convoy, get our just laurels, and then refuel at Brest with Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. When next we set sail, there will be no force on the sea capable of threatening us.”
Lindemann had some misgivings about this plan, much preferring his tanker rendezvous instead.
“What about Prince Eugen, sir?”
“She will follow your plan, Lindemann.” He threw a bone to the captain, sensing his mood on the matter. “Have her fall astern and we will take the van just before we make our turn. Then we will break west and Prince Eugen will continue on this heading with the aim of leading the British off on a merry chase.”
“I see,” said Lindemann, still concerned. “And what if the British do not follow her, sir? What if they follow us instead?”
“We will not know that for some time, captain. But we are losing our cover of darkness. That cruiser shadowing us is nowhere to be seen. Signal Prince Eugen at once and inform her of these orders. We will execute as soon as she is ready.”
“Aye, sir.”
Aboard HMS King George V Admiral Tovey was beginning to feel very alone. His entire fleet was nearing the point of no return on fuel, and the problem was particularly acute with his cruisers. Kenya had been out in front for some time now, but as dawn approached he was forced to order her to fall off station.
Lindemann had been correct on two counts. The cruiser had vanished, yet the first reason was that HMS Kenya’s perfect Mauve camo scheme had again blended in to the violet grey sky, making her virtually invisible in these hours of early morning light. The second was that Kenya could no longer stand her watch. The cruisers were running very low on fuel and Tovey also had to decide what to do with HMS Victorious. The carrier was going to run out of fuel well before King George V. He could not send Victorious home alone with U-boats about, and so the shorter legged cruisers would set the time of her departure, and serve as escort when she was dismissed from the task force. When Kenya vanished that morning, she would not return, and when the cruisers left with her, Tovey’s Home Fleet would have been reduced to his single ship. Hood and Prince of Wales were still running south on a parallel track, but were some forty miles to the west.