Yurina laughed again, bitterly. “And so it begins,” she said. “This war will destroy Japan.”
“I have my orders,” Yamamoto said. “Orders have to be obeyed.”
“Obeying them will lead to Japan’s destruction,” Yurina said. She giggled, faintly aware of her strange behaviour. “So, are you going to open the attack on Pearl Harbour again, or are you going to do something else equally stupid?”
Yamamoto ignored her sally. “With your help, we could defeat them,” he said. “Ambassador” – she blinked as he granted her the title she’d earned – “will the British assist their empire?”
“I have no idea,” Yurina said. “They might just want to be rid of it. However, they will want to resist you; the militarists who have taken control of Japan.”
Yamamoto nodded. “Then its war to the knife,” he said, and left the room. Yurina felt puzzled; if she hadn’t known better, she would have said that he’d fled the room.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Council of War
10 Downing Street
London, United Kingdom
12th September 1940
On the wall of the conference room there hung a chart; British aircraft lost placed next to German aircraft lost. As he had every day for the past month, Hanover studied it grimly, and swore. The RAF had begun the sudden unexpected war with five hundred front-line jets, many of which could not have taken part in an all-out 2015 air war. No one, however, had anticipated an all-out war in 2015; only the Chinese posed a possible conventional threat to global peace – and the aerial defences had been stripped to the bone. Hanover cursed twenty years of peace; the RAF could not have stood off a conventional threat, should one have appeared.
If the Germans ever get aircraft equal to ours, we might be in trouble, Hanover thought grimly. As it happened, the RAF had held, barely. Nearly a quarter of the current pilot strength had been killed – and the remainder were nearing exhaustion – but they’d held. The German losses weren’t precise – even 2015 radar had difficulty identifying who’d killed what – but somewhere around one thousand German planes had been destroyed.
Hanover shook his head and cursed the German who’d proven adaptable enough to force forward the V1 concept. It was worse than hunting Scud missiles, something that had proven futile in the Gulf War and the Syrian Conflict. A handful of SAS commando groups had been covertly inserted into France, looking for launching vehicles, but it had proven as futile at it had been ten years ago and sixty-five years in the future. The Germans didn’t know it, but they’d come close to destroying RAF Neatishead, and had managed to seriously damage the civilian radars in London, Dover and Southampton.
He paced around the room until he was standing by his seat at the head of the table. The… incident with the German spy had worried the police – one German pilot remained unaccounted for, despite a massive search – and Hanover had endured a grim meeting with the Chief Constable in which he explained why total border security could not be guaranteed. After decades of European integration, the nation no longer had the ability to patrol its coastline effectively – and the Germans could insert their own commando teams into Britain. Other than tightening security as far as they could, and recruiting new Police officers, there simply wasn’t much that they could do.
Not for the first time, Hanover considered releasing the ban on use of nuclear weapons. There had been enough anger after the bombing of Dover, to say nothing of the ‘doodlebugs’ hovering in from France, to justify it, but there were other considerations. After all, once the war ended, elections would have to be held – and his own position could be threatened.
He glanced down at his watch; it was almost time for the Council of War. Taking his chair, he waited patiently for the others; there were decisions to be made, and Hanover was looking forward to making them.
Major – the rank having now been confirmed directly by Prime Minister Hanover – Stirling entered the conference room with more confidence than he had felt before during high-level briefings. He’d dreaded the meetings at first; his low rank made him very much the junior member, just below the coffee boy. Hanover, at least, seemed to appreciate his services, sounding him out on all manner of subjects.
“This meeting of the War Cabinet is hereby called to order,” Hanover said, and the doors were shut. Stirling looked up with undisguised fascination; apart from the regular attendees, there were three Contemporary personnel as well. Admiral Somerville, Prime Minister Menzies and General Wavell. “Before we proceed with the agenda, are there any issues of vital importance?”
Menzies nodded. He’d been in communication with Australia. “If I may interpose,” he said, “my Government has received a communication from the Japanese. In essence, they are formally informing us that they intend to occupy the Dutch East Indies and the remainder of French territory for, quote, ‘the preservation of Japanese lives and property during the unrest,’ unquote. They are demanding that we recognise their right to do so and refrain from causing any… interruption in the flow of vital supplies to the Japanese economy. Any attempt to interfere will be considered an act of war and treated accordingly. They also demand that we use our good offices to prevent any… unfortunate American overreaction.
“My Government, including the commanders of our armed forces, consider this as nothing more than a preliminary for an attack upon Australia,” he continued. “Japanese bases within the Dutch East Indies would make our defence difficult, particularly if we cannot rely on assistance from outside. Quite frankly, even with the designs you’ve sent us, the generals are uncertain about our ability to hold.”
He looked across the table at Hanover. “At the risk of seeming rude,” he said, “I need something I can take back home. What are you going to do about it?”
Hanover nodded at the First Sea Lord, Admiral Grisham. “We have completed preparations for the dispatch of a task force, under Admiral Turtledove,” she said. “The task force will take a minimum of two weeks to reach Australia, and for various reasons the RFAs will have to travel with the main fleet, but we hope to be able to amass at least twenty-five front line warships near Australia. For the moment, four SSNs have been dispatched to the region, but it will be a week before they can arrive.
“Unfortunately our logistics are going to be very bad,” she said. “We will have to start using freighters to transport war stocks to the region, and attacking them will prove an effective way to wear us down. We can use the planned air bridge, which should be beyond the ability of the Japanese to interfere with, but the amount that can be lifted, even on converted jumbo jets, is limited.”
She nodded across at General Chapman. “We hope to be able to dispatch forty front-line aircraft, mainly Harriers and Jaguars, to the region. Once armed with Sea Shadows and the latest in weapons technology – and an AWACS that will be carried on a freighter…”
“Over my dead body,” the Chief of the Air Staff snapped. “We have nine AWACS, two of which desperately require refurbishment and a third which is hors de combat. We cannot risk the Germans obtaining plans of our air defences – such as they came close to doing before – and successfully shutting down our radar. In that case…”
“In that case, we would still have four AWACS,” Hanover said. “Unfortunately, short of our Australia turning up on the sea of time, we have to enhance their radar by whatever means are necessary.” He looked around the room; Stirling thought his eyes lingered on him for a long moment. “We have a commitment to assist the Australians against the Japanese, and we will do what we have to in order to keep that commitment.”