Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B James Young (read out loud books .TXT) 📖

cans to go around if they actually have to try and tow that Brit carrier and some battleship back from the Maldives," Brigante said. "I hope that doesn't happen anytime soon."

"Even if it does, I don't think we have enough pilots to help," Eric said.

"I'm so glad of the times we live in," Brigante sighed.

"Could be worse," Charles said, drawing an incredulous look from Eric and Brigante before he elaborated. "We could be Russians."

Both men nodded sympathetically at that. The news reports from the Soviet Union weren't good.

No sympathy for most Reds after hearing the Duchess talk about what they did growing up.

“The Duchess” was one of his parents friends, a White Russian émigré who had married an American navy officer then settled in Alabama. She was a kind woman, and had nothing good to say about Lenin, Stalin, or just about any Communist.

I’m sure she’s thinking the Germans are making lots of “good Communists” as she put it. Still, gassing is a horrible way to go, and somehow I doubt it only killed soldiers or commissars.

"I can't imagine someplace like St. Louis getting gassed," Charles remarked.

"Or New York," Brigante replied with a visible shudder.

One of those is a lot more likely. Which is horrifying, especially since it's a long way home for the Independence and Bonhomme Richard now.

There had been intelligence reports that the Usurper Forces had dispatched two battleships and a fleet carrier through the Suez Canal sometime in the last week. With the Japanese forces around Ceylon, Admiral Hart had determined he didn't want to risk borrowed assets getting pinned near the Cape of Good Hope. So the Atlantic Fleet carriers and their undamaged escorts had not even disembarked their crews when they’d stopped in Sydney to reprovision en route to the Panama Canal.

Almost a month at sea after having already been at sea all the way from Norfolk to around Africa.

Eric looked at the departing Houston as he did the math in his head.

They're going to need one hell of a refit when they get back to the Atlantic. Almost makes more sense to just have them stop at Pearl if the Usurpers' heavy ships are in the Indian Ocean, but that's above my pay grade.

"Eric, I'm sure even if her dad gets back to Pearl before us she'll still love you," Charles teased.

"Who?" Brigante asked, clearly confused.

"Eric's dating the daughter of Houston's captain," Charles replied, then realized what he’d said. Eric gave him a quick glare.

Didn't we agree not to share that little fact?

"That explains why you've been seeming a lot less happy than the rest of us about getting back to civilization," Brigante remarked with a knowing smile. The man looked like he was about to say something else until he realized the way both Eric and Charles were looking at him.

No, generally being involved in a kill or be killed business is why I've been pissed off. Missing the woman I…love is just icing on the cake.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of mail waiting for us when we get to Cockatoo Island," Charles said, his tone apologetic. Eric could see the man was genuinely remorseful for spilling the beans.

Gotta let it go.

Eric clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"But the real question is, will Patricia have sent us some of Mom's famous brownies after you asked?" Eric replied.

Pacific Fleet G-2 Building

1130 Local (1700 Eastern)

17 August

"You know, at some point we're going to have to have to at least talk about when you're moving your things out of my house," Jo said, her tone sounding like she was discussing the weather.

What the hell?!

Patricia snapped her head up from Tarzan and the Forbidden City.

"Excuse me?" Patricia asked, looking up to see it was only Jo and her in the lunch room.

"I did not stutter," Jo replied. "While I appreciate that your nominal presence allows your brothers to stay with me without running afoul of any blue laws, Sam and David have both stated that they're ready to get rooms in the BOQ. And you're moving out, I would like time to find a renter before next month."

Count to ten…must count to ten.

She took a deep breath, hating that her face was likely already revealing her temper rising.

"If this is your way of getting an apol…" she began.

"I don't give a flying fuck if you're sorry, Patricia," Jo snapped, then stopped. Patricia could see the other woman visibly reining in her temper.

So, even the imperturbable Josephine Morton has her breaking point, Patricia thought with some degree of satisfaction, then realized she should have kept a better poker face.

"Namely because I recognize that smug superiority when I see it," Jo bit out, causing Patricia’s smugness to fall away. "Yes, congratulations! After a week of literally only saying five words to me before grabbing a bag and going back over to that nurse's apartment, you have finally established that you don't need ol' Jo anymore."

That's not what it is at all!

Patricia clenched her fists in frustration. Looking down at a sticky sensation on her hand, she belatedly realized she should have put her peanut butter and jelly sandwich down first.

"Goddammit Jo, is this really the time and place for us to have this conversation?" Patricia asked, disgusted. Looking around again, she shook her head angrily and started licking her fingers.

Undignified as hell, but it at least gets cleanup started and I don't interrupt the bigwig meeting going on outside.

She had no idea why Admiral Dunlap had made an impromptu visit to "the cave," but the man had shown up in a state of high dudgeon with Vice Admiral Halsey in tow.

Ever since that admiral up and had a plane crash last week, things have been insane around here. I almost asked Jo if she knew who Rear Admiral Christie was, but that would have involved actually giving her that apology. That she deserves.

Jo watched Patricia licking her hands with a raised eyebrow, then narrowed her gaze.

"Practicing for tonight?" the