“A massive series of battles around Kharkov and Sevastopol, under way at the present time, will eventually see nearly one million Soviet troops killed or taken prisoner. Sevastopol will fall to the Germans on the first of July, two days into the German summer offensive, Operation Blue.”

As she spoke, a PowerPoint show filled the giant wallscreens. Two-meter windows displaying archival footage of combat on the Eastern Front played in one corner, directly over a panel listing the various German and Soviet formations that would be involved and their losses over the period of the campaign. Rachel snuck a quick peek at the two sour-faced Royal Navy men. No, they weren’t looking any happier.

Oh well, she thought, here goes . . .

“British attempts to support the Soviet war effort through shipment of matériel via convoy will be severely hampered by the poor judgment of the first sea lord, Admiral Sir Dudley Pound, who is suffering from a brain tumor that will kill him within a few years—”

She got no farther, flinching in surprise as somebody smashed an open hand down on the table.

“How dare you! I’ve had just about enough of this!” barked the Englishman seated next to Captain Halabi. “We’ve sat here all night listening to a bunch of darkies and shrews tell us what we’ve been doing wrong and now this . . . this . . . bloody coolie child has the nerve to come in here and insult Sir Dudley, a man who—”

“Admiral Murray,” Halabi said through gritted teeth, “I would appreciate it if you would shut the fuck up and listen to the lieutenant, who, I can assure you, is infinitely better informed about these matters than you are.”

Ah, that’d be Rear Admiral Sir Leslie Murray, CBE, thought Nguyen.

“I don’t have to listen to this!” Murray declared.

“No, you don’t,” agreed Halabi. “You can leave anytime you want.”

Rachel could see that Halabi was only just containing her desire to strangle the man. She won the battle of wills, however, and Murray returned to his silent glaring.

The acting commander of the Multinational Force spoke to Nguyen in a much calmer tone. “Please go on, Lieutenant. I believe you were about to discuss the destruction of Naval Convoy PQ Seventeen.”

“I was, ma’am, thank you.”