He waited for a return but none came. A couple of officers threw a quick glance at the Japanese representative, Lieutenant Commander Mitsuka. The young man stared fixedly back at Kolhammer. The Multinational Force commander had commissioned him “in the field”—over Mitsuka’s own objection—arguing that it simply wasn’t practical to have an ensign in charge of the Siranui. What active role the ship and her crew might play, however, was another matter.

“Well, then, I guess that means we fight,” Kolhammer said. “I don’t see much of an alternative either, given the damage we did to the Pacific Fleet and the fact that the Japanese found the Nuku on top of that mountain. We have to assume they’ll have salvaged material and information from the ship. It won’t make an immediate difference, but if they share it with the Nazis, and we have to assume that they will, we could be looking at a greatly accelerated German rocket program, followed by a viable nuclear threat.”

There was, at last, some reaction; an uncomfortable murmur and a noticeable number of men and women shifting about in their seats, almost as though they were trying to squirm away from the implications of such a nightmare.

“I’m not here to impose my will on anybody today. There is an option I want to discuss. But it’s only an option. I’m going to throw the floor open to anybody who feels the need to speak first.”

He leaned up against the edge of a desk and swept his eyes over the room. There were no assigned places, but almost everybody had grouped together by nationality. Americans, making up three-quarters of the group, all sat along one side of the room and around the curve of the desks. Next to the last of them was Lieutenant Commander Mitsuka. On the other side of him sat the Australian commanders, Willet, Sheehan, Captain Tranter off the Ipswich and an army officer, Brigadier Barnes. Captain Halabi and her XO, Commander McTeale, were ensconced with Prince Harry, the senior SAS officer.

Halabi raised an eyebrow at Kolhammer. He nodded at her and resumed his seat next to Mike Judge.

“Captain.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The Royal Navy officer pulled an envelope out of her jacket and dropped it onto the table.

“I have an order from the first sea lord in London, via Rear Admiral Murray here in Hawaii, directing me to detach the Trident from this force and return with all dispatch to Portsmouth. My crew and I will be ‘evaluated’ and reassigned to training duties pending the outcome of those evaluations. Sir Leslie phoned me this morning to make sure I’d received the orders. He helpfully pointed out that disobeying them could be construed as mutiny, a capital offense.”

A few people snorted and laughed. Some swore. Prince Harry rolled his eyes.

“I see,” said Kolhammer. “What about you, Captain Willet? Have you had anything similar?”