Free A Dawn Like Thunder by Douglas Reeman Page B

dark glossy hair – it could even be jet black. There was something unusual about her, he thought; foreign, if there was such a thing.
    She said, ‘I can get you anything else, sir – cup of tea if you like?’
    â€˜Thank you, no. I’ll see Captain Pryce if that is what I must do.’
    But when he looked back she was bending intently over her crossword.
    A strange encounter. Perhaps she disliked officers, or men in general?
    I’m losing my sense of humour.
Stupid to let it rattle him.
    He reached Pryce’s door and the rating on duty said, ‘He’s expecting you, sir.’
    He found Pryce in a jovial mood. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. It’s restricted, of course, but tomorrow the whole world will know!’ He pointed to a chair. ‘I’ll bet they’re celebrating up in the lochs tonight, or whatever the damned time is there!’
    Ross waited, still puzzled by the girl’s hostility.
    Pryce said, ‘All our faith in smaller underwater weapons has been justified, Ross. Some of our X-craft – the signal did not specify how many – penetrated the Norwegian fjord where the
Tirpitz
has been skulking all this time. Nets, booms, patrol-boats, the lot! They bloody well did it! Laid their charges and crippled the brute, probably for good!’
    Ross stared at him, the picture refusing to form in his mind. He had often thought of transferring to X-craft, the midget submarines that had been one of Ossie Dyer’s projects. Small, they carried only a four-man crew, and yet they had done this, the impossible.
Tirpitz
was the most powerful warship in the world, after her sister-ship
Bismarck
, which had destroyed the
Hood
in northern waters where a man’s survival was limited to minutes.
Bismarck
, too, had been sunk, but it had taken most of the Home Fleet and a lot of luck to do it. And while
Tirpitz
remained, even if she never ventured out from her Norwegian lair, desperately-needed ships had had to be tied down just in case she might make a sudden sortie.
    He asked quietly, ‘What happened to our chaps, sir?’
    â€˜What?’ Pryce was in another world. ‘Oh, not sure of that either. Some were taken prisoner, but still . . .’
    But still.
Ross said, ‘I wish we’d been in on it.’
    Pryce looked at him curiously. ‘Which was why I chose you for this job. We will always have casualties. Officers who lead by example are something else.’ Then he said, ‘As it’s a special occasion . . .’ He opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of malt whisky. Then he pressed a bell. ‘Only one glass, dammit!’
    Ross watched him. Pryce was genuinely pleased about the mighty
Tirpitz.
Even Churchill had admitted that it would take at least two British battleships in company to stand a chance against her. But he was on edge. Perhaps in some way he also felt left out.
    Ross said, ‘I was hoping to see the latest signals about our people from England. Lieutenant Villiers . . .’
    The door opened, and the petty officer Wren stood there, regarding him with the same cool eyes.
    â€˜No tea after all, sir?’ To Pryce she said, ‘I came myself. The messenger has gone to the heads.’
    Pryce nodded vaguely. ‘Quite. Quite so. Could you find me another glass?’ The door closed.
    He opened a drawer. ‘I’ve got the signals right here.’ He gave Ross a searching glance. ‘I sensed a little tension just now. You’ve met our formidable Victoria, then?’ And he laughed shortly. Then he said briskly, ‘Say what you like,she did more than anybody to set up these offices and equipment for us. A
very
intelligent girl. Lucky to have her.’
    Ross considered it. It was rare for Pryce to offer praise so freely. ‘I’d have thought the Wrens would have provided an officer.’
    Pryce unscrewed the bottle slowly. ‘I am sure Miss Mackenzie thinks so, too. She would