Captain David Thiessen hoped their intelligence was correct, he was taking a big chance pulling Task Force 1 this far north. The weather in the Newfoundland Basin seemed to work hard to earn its reputation.
“Pure crap,” he growled as the bow of the aircraft carrier nosed into another mountain of green water. But they had managed to launch a recon bird three hours earlier before the weather changed yet again. Now he was worried they wouldn’t be able to get Lieutenant Todd back onboard in one piece.
The quartermaster striker on headphones piped up, “Captain, the radio room reports sightings from Prowler 1.”
Prowler 1 was Lieutenant Todd in his Hellcat.
“Tell them to put it on the bridge speaker.”
“Aye, aye.”
A burst of static issued from the speakers on either side of the bridge and then the lieutenant’s voice said, “—six ships with her.”
Captain Thiessen picked up his microphone and clicked for attention.
“Sam, this is the captain. Please repeat your report, we didn’t get the first part on the squawk box.”
“Yes, Captain. I have sighted HMS Endeavour accompanied by two Simcoe Class cruisers and four destroyers.”
“Well done, Sam. You sure it’s the Endeavour?”
“Positive, Captain. I went aboard her in ’82 when I was an ensign.”
“Just the battleship group with no birdfarm?”
“I have seen no aircraft carriers other than the Big E, Captain.”
“Good work, Sam. The weather out here is getting worse by the minute, so I want you to fly into Reykjavik and land there.”
“Captain, I’ll be interned, the Danes aren’t in the war.”
“I know, Sam, but you’ll still be alive. And don’t forget, the place is crawling with good-looking, buxom blondes who appreciate sailors.”
Lieutenant Todd laughed. “Aye, aye, Captain. I’m just sorry I’ll miss the fight.”
“So noted, Lieutenant, Enterprise out.”
The officer of the deck, Lieutenant Commander Stephens, watched his skipper with a gleam in his eyes. “We going to engage the limeys, Captain?”
Captain Thiessen grinned. “Bet your ass, Louie. But we’re going to wait and nail them when they come out of the storm, all beaten to shit and their brightwork dulled. Quartermaster, steer west, southwest, half speed, notify the task force.”