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Commander William Mallett tried hard to rehabilitate himself after being dismissed from his destroyer for drunkenness. Ignored by his fellow officers and subjected to the indignity of minor duties, he pestered the naval hierarchy to give him another ship. The Wanderer was old, worn and manned mostly by misfits. His job was to work up Wanderer to fighting efficiency in time to participate in the American invasion of Tarawa Island…
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There were a hundred prisoners of war aboard the German ship Munchen. A hundred disillusioned men subjected to the mercy of a brutal Nazi psychopath. The pitiful hopes of 99 of those men lay in one man - a man who knew they were sentenced to an endless imprisonment – who, on a sudden, desperate impulse, had flung a garbage can into the sea. But had he been stupid? Had he failed? Why else was Captain Fricke enraged? He only knew that - somehow - he had to leave another sign...another clue…
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Bentley was unable to fathom his Captain’s reasoning. Suddenly Scimitar’s guns spat fire, tracers of lead. It dawned on him what might happen. An ominous pause, and what had been an enormous white wall of gleaming ice was now crumbling. Chunks of splitting ice, tons thick, splayed the sea with a hissing roar. Someone shouted aghast. The core of the iceberg loomed towards them, slowly, like a cathedral in an earthquake. And fell. Had Sainsbury’s awesome stroke been really successful?
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A convoy of thousands of live and tons of vitally needed shipping was the lure to draw the German battleship out of hiding. The Captain’s awesome responsibility was to protect his convoy’s safety and then engage the battleship until reinforcements arrived. The British admiralty had set up the whole operation as a trap. But the Admiralty were not to know that the Captain would have to choose between his duty and his love for a woman. She was aboard the already crippled destroyer that he was to order into battle against the German guns.
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Jackal came upon the enemy force quickly, like a cheetah chasing a cruising elephant.
They could barely see the Jap ships through the curtain of rain but his radar plot showed Dutchy Holland a picture as if in plain daylight... Dutchy's voice was like metal scratching metal.
"Strike that Jap Flag! Hoist battle ensign."
"Aye aye, Sir. Speed?"
"Speed, man? Full power."
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Under tow, you were expected to sheer off from danger, not stick your nose smack into it, Bentley reflected bitterly. And yet he had sent an unarmed cutter against his enemy base – because his men needed the fillip of success...could this foolhardy gamble pay off?
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Alice, transported to the colony of New South Wales, serves her sentence and becomes a free woman; Eliza Jane is an unwitting partner in her husband's illegal slave-labour trading at the turn of the century and is forced to commit murder; Clare, a nurse during the Spanish Civil War, is an undercover agent in Germany during the second World War. A novel spanning a century and five generations, with settings moving between Europe and Australia.
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'They're onto us, sir!' With the velocity of galvanised thought, Dutchy had already accepted that ugly fact. Now his whirling mind was faced with more ugly facts. He could sink this patrol boat. But the wind was astern, blowing straight to shore; the coast was less than fifteen miles away, and under these conditions the sound of four inch guns might carry that far. Even if it didn't and the boat blew up, the gush of flame would be sighted. Against these possible risks there stood, definite and undeniable, the certainty that if he did nothing, then the game was up. Not only must the mission be aborted, but they would be mercilessly attacked on the way home.
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The mine field surrounded them now. Ugly spiked weeds growing in a green sea garden. Death was a wave;s slap away. Fear was on the Jackal's bridge, as palpable as the electric tension which had men holding their breaths each time she lifted, gripping hold with hands and braced feet, though it would have done no good at all if half a ton of amatol had burst beneath them. The ship crawled on. Ahead lay Rat Island, the object of their mission. At that moment, to those still figures on the bridge, it might have been a thousand miles away. For each second was an eternity beyond which might lie, not an island, but oblivion…
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