“Sir.” Bush took a deep breath. “You’re not going to like what I have to say, but I’ll say it anyway.” This would not be the first time he had spoken bluntly to a senior officer, hence, despite his highly successful command tour on a frigate, his reduced chances of commanding anything else. “But to take a carrier to sea to fight the Russians, without the aircraft which are its principal weapons system, is asking for trouble.”

Bush was a seaman to his core, but he’d kept a watchful eye on the F35B Lightning II joint-strike program, was well briefed on the cost overruns and delays to the program, and was aware of the technical glitches with both software and hardware that had delayed their introduction into service.

“Now listen, Number One.” Narborough smoothed back his hair. “I told you this morning that we’re deploying as the flagship of a Littoral Maneuver Group. Our task is to sail for the Baltic and be ready to poise off shore to demonstrate the resolve and determination of the British government and the NATO Alliance to face down the Russians and, above all, to stop them trying anything else on. Our masters accept they’ve got the Baltic states by the short and curlies and there’s not a lot anyone can do about it. But we can stop them going any further. We may not have any Lightning IIs, but we’ll have an impressive mix of helicopters and be able to pack quite a punch ashore with the Marines if needs be . . . and let’s get this straight, nobody has said anything about actually fighting the Russians.”

Bush knew that to push the issue any further would amount to insubordination. He’d expressed his concern with the mission they’d been given and he now had two basic choices. Turn to the right and get on with it, or resign his commission in protest. But to do the latter on the verge of a possible war would be tantamount to cowardice.