Halabi understood now that she'd been summoned to London to receive orders concerning one of the key facilities in the Reich's atomic program. Most likely, they wanted her to destroy it. Norwegian commandos had originally attacked it in 1943, after an earlier raid by British forces had failed abysmally. In this world, however, that first raid had yet to take place. And there was every chance that the Nazis knew all about the way things were supposed to play out.
They may even have had access to a copy of the Hollywood movie, or the BBC miniseries that told the story of the "the heroes of Telemark."
"Unfortunately, we have no land attack missiles left," Halabi said. "But surely the Havoc does? Or one of the Task Force surface ships? They could take it out without any fuss at all."
Churchill grunted in exasperation. "Indeed they could, Captain. But Prime Minister Curtin will not release any of the forces currently assigned to the defense of Australia. And the Clinton's battle group, or what remains of it, is still in the Pacific en route to San Diego. It will be some time before they're in any position to help. Assuming, of course, that they would. Admiral Kolhammer seems to think of himself as something akin to a Chinese warlord, and he reacts to direct orders as if they were nothing more than gentle suggestions."
The destroyer captain said nothing.
When it was obvious she wouldn't take the bait, Churchill waved the issue away with another irritated mumble. "Well, we're not here to discuss your colleagues, or their continued refusal to accept the new realities. I need you and His Highness to undertake a mission of the utmost importance. The destruction, as you certainly must have surmised, of the heavy water factory in Telemark."
"Is there some reason it has to happen immediately?" Halabi asked.
Jens Poulsson spoke up. "We maintain contact with some of our sources at the plant. The Germans are about to move ten thousand gallons of heavy water. We do not know where, but regardless, they cannot be allowed to do so. They must have learned of the original raids that took place in your history. So they have decided to act quickly."
"But if your source is still alive and in touch," she reasoned, "the Germans obviously cannot possess perfect knowledge of the plant's history. Otherwise, they'd know about him. They must have picked up scraps here and there from the lattice cache on the Sutanto. But not the whole story."
"It hardly matters," countered Churchill. "The point is, they must be stopped. And the plant must be taken out of action-permanently. If they succeed with their atomic program, we will be utterly defenseless. And if Britain falls, it will make it just that much harder for the U.S. to strike, particularly at such a great distance.
"I fear, Captain Halabi, that the Axis powers are now less interested in global conquest than they are in holding their current gains, and they hope to do so by getting access to these 'weapons of mass destruction,' as you call them. They want Britain and, I suppose, Australia, largely to deny America any base usable for a counterattack."
"I see," said Halabi before addressing the Norwegian. "And you have some plan in mind, I suppose."
"We do," replied Poulsson, "but it requires your help, and the prince's, for it to have any chance of success, particularly at such short notice."
"No notice, really," said Harry.
"Indeed," the SOE man conceded.
Halabi looked down and realized she was standing next to William Pitt's writing desk. Somehow, it seemed very small. "You'll need the Trident to move Major Windsor's men, and Lieutenant Poulsson's, too, I imagine. Into Norwegian waters, for the assault."
"Exactly," confirmed Harry. "I'll be taking two squads. Poulsson and two others will come with us. We're to rendezvous on the ground with local resistance fighters who will get us to the plant. We'll need to chopper in and out."
"Can you do it?" asked Miss Atkins.
Halabi did not reply immediately. She took a few moments to consider the variables as best she could: the need to sneak past the Kriegsmarine; the chance that, with forewarning, the Nazis would simply be waiting for them in the fjords or at the plant itself; the odds of making it back after the strike alerted the Germans to their presence; the possible cost of losing the Trident, balanced against the risk of Hitler getting his hands on a nuclear weapon. This last one was the most important consideration of course.
The Nemesis battlespace arrays of her ship gave the British high command virtually total awareness of the tactical situation in the local theater. The Luftwaffe could not launch raids of any size on the nation's capital-or anywhere else in the southern half of the United Kingdom, for that matter-without the Allies knowing of it almost immediately. Admiral Raeder could not put his relatively weak naval forces to sea to protect any invasion fleet while he faced certain destruction at her hands.
The Germans knew that the Trident was the linchpin of England's defense, and they had spent enormous amounts of blood and treasure trying to take her out. The Allies, on the other hand, could not afford to lose her, which was why she had never sortied to directly engage the German capital ships, and why so many fighters that should have been protecting British airfields against bombing raids were instead assigned to covering her arse.
If the Trident appeared in hostile waters, Goring would probably send his entire air force against her. But if she remained here and Poulsson and Atkins were right about the atomic plant, the question of the Trident's survival would become moot anyway.
Halabi shrugged and looked at Churchill. "I don't know if we can do it sir. But we can give it a damn good shake."
Churchill nodded. "England expects that every man, and woman, will do their best."
As the two SOE agents left, the PM asked Halabi and Harry to stay for a moment. The attendant who had shown her in appeared with a trolley that rattled with a collection of teapots and china cups. The prime minister shooed him away, offering to pour the tea himself.
"White and one sugar," said Halabi as the attendant fled.
"Black, with a squeeze of lemon," Harry added.
When the doors had closed and they were left alone, Churchill bade them sit in the nearest armchairs.
He produced a cigar from his waistcoat and lit up without bothering to ask whether they would mind. Harry seemed to find it amusing, but it annoyed Halabi, though she held her tongue. Everyone in this era seemed to live in a dense cloud of carcinogenic smoke, and it was one of the things she found hardest to accept. They thought you mad if you asked them not to smoke in your presence, or even to avoid blowing their smoke in your face.
She put her aggravation aside as best she could.
"I have not had a chance to thank you both for the work you have put in here," Churchill said without preamble. He held his hand up when Halabi made to protest. "No, Captain. I am the prime minister, and that means you have to sit and listen, whether you want to or not. I imagine the rules are not much different from your day."
The two officers admitted that they were not.
"I know you wished very much to keep your Task Force together, and I can understand that, politically as well as militarily," the PM continued. "This is a very hostile world you have found yourselves in. And I don't refer only to Herr Hitler and his little friends in the East. I understand that you, in particular, Halabi, have not had the sort of welcome in Portsmouth that might be thought of as appropriate for a returning Royal Navy captain. Young Harry here has excellent family connections to smooth his way. You, on the other hand, do not."