Free Pearl Harbour - A novel of December 8th by William R. Forstchen, Newt Gingrich Page A

general. I’ll confess I’ve been preoccupied with that crew of thugs in Germany of late, but there are far broader issues confronting England in the days to come. I could wander over to the appropriate office along Whitehall for a briefing, but as you know, I’m not all that welcome in some quarters.”
    Cecil smiled knowingly.
    Winston leaned forward, picking up a couple of small logs and tossing them onto the fire, the wood crackling, sparks floating up the chimney.
    “I want to understand just what the hell is going on over there. Fifteen years back we counted the Japanese as firm allies. With Stalin in power, I had hoped the Japanese could be a counterforce to any adventures he might consider in China. But there are rumblings, Cecil, rumblings that something over there is going wrong, terribly wrong.”
    Winston finished his drink and poured a few more ounces, looking over at Cecil, brows furrowed, that look of deep concentration and intensity he was famed for.
    “Remember Lawrence?” Winston asked.
    “You mean Thomas?” Cecil asked.
    Winston nodded.
    “Yes, heard about his death while still in Japan. Motorcycle, wasn’t it?”
    “Sad loss. A good friend,” he gazed at the fire. “We all should have listened to him a bit more closely, he had a feel for the Middle East. But too high-strung, eccentric, and, of course, those detestable false rumors that followed him.” Cecil said nothing.
    “Don’t believe them for a moment, mind you, but still a brilliant man.”
    He looked over again at Cecil.
    “When I read in the Times about this coup attempt in Japan, well, I thought of Lawrence for some reason. And that led me to you.”
    “Me, sir?”
    Winston smiled. “You’re no swashbuckler in white robes”-- Winston laughed softly--”but you have a feel for the place. You’re not with the Foreign Office, those bloody fools, and you’re no longer in the service so you can speak your mind. And I thought, by God, if there’s anyone that can explain it all to me, it’s you, Cecil.”
    “Well, comparing me to Lawrence and all his exploits in Arabia, that is a stretch, sir.”
    “Find me someone else then who can explain the Japanese and what is going on over there. Find him right now and you’re off the hook. Otherwise, for the moment you are now officially my Lawrence of Japan, or should I say Cecil of Japan.”
    Cecil could not help but smile. When Winston wanted to pour on the charm he could do so in spades. He sat back in his chair, sipping the scotch, trying to collect his thoughts. He suspected, of course, that this was why Winston had summoned him to his private retreat. The army coup plot had made the papers for a day or two, but then was submerged by news from Germany, the crisis in Spain, and the usual foolery about sports, fashion, and film stars.
    “Fine then, sir, but let me warn you, I can give it to you two ways: I can tell you who the players are, what happened, and why; but I fear you’ll be lost in a sea of names and secret societies, and side-switching that will leave you dizzy. Or another way, what I see as the reasons behind the coup, and what it actually means.”
    Winston smiled and Cecil relaxed slightly. Though charming, Winston had little time for fools, even those fools whom he considered loyal subordinates or even friends. He could indeed summon a report as a MP but he wanted something different.
    “You know what I want.”
    “Right then, and remember my information is the same as yours in one respect, I had to glean the information from the Times and fill in the blanks with what I already knew.
    “The hard fact news item is that a small group of army dissidents attempted a coup: several key government officials were killed, and then the coup was speedily suppressed with only a handful of casualties.
    “Based on several previous incidents, quite similar to this one, but which did not draw such international attention, the dissidents will go on trial, and a year from now