Read Online Battlecruiser (1997) by Douglas Reeman - Free Book Online

have been an extension of the land itself, with only the flags and a thin tendril of smoke from one funnel to reveal her latent strength.
    Stagg climbed up beside him. ‘A beauty, eh?’
    Sherbrooke glanced at him. Calm, or resigned, he wondered.
    Stagg muttered, ‘Might be weeks before we get
Seeker
in company, Guy. Bloody poor show!’
    The bowman was in position, boathook at the ready. Sherbrooke saw the side-party at the top of the accommodation ladder, frozen stiff, probably, after A.C.H.Q. had sent a signal to announce their return aboard.
    ‘Waste of a day!’ Stagg’s eyes gleamed. ‘I’ll see
Montagu
’s captain when we get aboard. Just in the bloody mood for him!’
    The calls trilled, and Sherbrooke noticed that Stagg made a point of climbing aboard without his greatcoat. The flag lieutenant would carry it himself.
    Commander Frazier was ready to meet them.
    Stagg said, ‘I’ll let you tell him the great news, Guy. I’m going aft.’ His glance shifted to a small group of seamen who were attempting to splice some eyes in a tangle of wire from the boatswain’s store. They were all very young ordinary seamen, some of the most recent replacements, and still completely lost in the new surroundings of this, their first ship.
    Stagg strode over to them and nodded abruptly to a leading hand who was in charge.
    To one of the new recruits he said curtly, ‘Name, boy?’
    The youth stared at the broad lower stripe on Stagg’s sleeve, and seemed almost tongue-tied. ‘Baker, s-sir!’
    ‘
From?
’
    ‘Leeds, sir.’
    Stagg smiled. ‘Ah, well.’ Then he took the wire from the young seaman’s nerveless hand and a marlin spike from another. ‘Like this, see? Take charge of it! Show who’s boss, right?’
    It was a perfect piece of wire splicing. He thrust his hand into his pocket.
    ‘Like riding a bicycle, boy – you never forget!’
    Sherbrooke had seen the blood on his fingers, andwondered why he had bothered. He was respected, admired, even feared; he did not have to impress, or prove anything to any man.
    Stagg strode aft, his cap at a jaunty angle.
    Like Beatty
, he thought. Perhaps that was it.
    Frazier followed him into his cabin, where Petty Officer Long was already waiting expectantly.
    ‘Drink, John?’ His eyes fell on the file Frazier was carrying under his arm. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Operational reports. They came out from A.C.H.Q. while you were in
Seeker.
’ He paused. ‘Pity about her spot of bother, sir.’
    Sherbrooke, looking through the file, did not answer. Then he said, ‘The admiral will want to see this.’
    ‘I thought it could wait, sir. There’s nothing that concerns us.’ Frazier sounded defensive.
    Sherbrooke looked over at Long. ‘Later – but thanks.’ To Frazier he said, ‘I’ll take it to him.’
    He found Stagg having a drink, his feet propped on a chair.
    ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Can’t it wait, Guy?’ He was smiling, but there was no warmth in his eyes.
    ‘Operational folio, sir.’ He looked at him evenly. ‘And no, I don’t think it can.’
    ‘Oh, very well. Get on with it.’
    Sherbrooke turned over a page. ‘Admiralty reported that one of our submarines torpedoed a German cruiser in the Skaggerak, believed to be the
Flensburg.
’
    ‘Well, bully for our gallant submariners! I told you the Jerries were more than likely going to try to move ships to the Baltic. Their troops will need all the support they can get once the weather improves.’
    Sherbrooke regarded him gravely. ‘The
Flensburg
, if it was her, was heading west, sir.’
    ‘Let me see that.’ Stagg merely sounded annoyed that his drink had been spoiled.
    Sherbrooke watched his eyes moving quickly across the folio, then more slowly, until he could almost feel the force of Stagg’s concentration.
    ‘The same time as
Minden
made her move.’ He shook his head. ‘No, they’d never risk an attack on another Murmansk convoy with the ice edge so low. Later on, April maybe . . . when