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) 📖

Something doesn't seem quite right about this.

"Come starboard thirty degrees," Jacob said, looking at the low sun. "Signal the Pillsbury to make sure she doesn't get more than ten thousand yards ahead of us."

Commander Farmer looked over at Jacob briefly, then quickly looked away.

"Yes, I am feeling slightly suspicious," Jacob said. The British officer cracked a small smile.

"Didn't want to sound any more paranoid than I already am, sir," Farmer replied.

The next ten minutes passed in tense silence as the Houston and Pillsbury continued to close with the two ships ahead. Bringing his binoculars up, Jacob once again studied the two vessels. Both had single stacks, the smoke pouring from them indicating both vessels were steaming near maximum power away from Houston.

"Signal both vessels to heave to," Jacob ordered, guessing the trailing vessel to be close enough to read Houston's code. Jacob turned over to see Farmer staring intently at the two ships.

"Do you recognize their markings?" Jacob asked Farmer as his crew sprang to their work.

"No, sir, I do not," Farmer replied. Suddenly he jerked erect, as if he'd had an epiphany. After a moment, his shoulders slumped. "I don't expect your vessel has an Admiralty Book, do you?"

"A what?" Jacob asked.

"It's a handbook the Royal Navy provided to all of our cruisers at the start of the war," Farmer said, then corrected himself. "In '39, rather. Updated every year."

Jacob shook his head ruefully.

"I've heard that ONI was supposed to publish a merchantman recognition book sometime at the start of this year," Jacob said. "Intended to help our vessels know who had stayed and who had left in your fleet as well as what merchantmen."

Farmer's lips pursed.

"I'm guessing that never got done?" he stated.

"No, not likely," Jacob stated. "Or if it did, the books are a pile of ash someplace at Cavite or the East Indies."

Farmer was about to respond when both men spotted a flashing near the sternmost ship's superstructure. Bringing up his binoculars, Jacob first saw the vessel's black hull fill his field of view. A white band ran seemingly in an unbroken line around the ship, looking almost like a second waterline. The superstructure matched the band while the funnel matched the majority of the hull. Two light blue bands at the very top of the funnel completed the paint scheme.

Such a familiar coloring but I don't know why.

Then it struck him about the same time as he read the only part of the vessel's blinkering he could understand.

Those look like some of the Dutch vessels we saw in the Indies.

"Abbekirk is an odd name," Jacob said. "Can't understand a lick of the rest."

"Might be panic," Farmer said, relaxing somewhat. "I know I wouldn't be expecting a heavy cruiser all the way out here, so they may think we're Japanese or Usurper."

I can't believe anyone would mistake us for a Japanese heavy cruiser. Then again, I haven't had my home country and colonies both conquered and become a vagabond.

"Tell that Dutchman to signal slower, and in English," Jacob stated. "Come starboard ten more degrees so she can get a better look at us. Then order the Pillsbury to get in closer. No one's going to mistake a four-stacker for enemy."

Farmer winced.

"You did give fifty of those destroyers to us back in '41," the man said. "But yes, bit far out for a Town-class destroyer, even if the Usurper still had forces in the Cook Islands."

The mention of the Cook Islands' former bases made Jacob consider his orders.

Pondering whether we should break radio silence to Samoa. If there's something that sank the Trenton out here, these two merchants probably need an escort. They're fast vessels given how slowly we're catching them, which probably means a critical cargo.

He glanced at the navigator's map hanging in the corner.

Then again, if I make a transmission and there is a hostile force out here, that'd almost certainly bring them looking in this direction.

"Signal the Pillsbury to close with all possible speed and make visual contact," Jacob said. "Bring us another ten degrees to starboard so they can get a good luck at our broadside. Not much that looks like a Northampton-class cruiser on the other side."

Once more, the Houston's crew smoothly began to execute his orders. The Pillsbury's stacks puffed additional smoke as the destroyer began to accelerate. Jacob noted the Houston's turrets starting to swing to track the two vessels.

"Tell Guns to belay pointing the main battery at the two vessels," Jacob snapped. "They're jumpy enough as is."

"Aye aye, sir," the talker replied. There was a moment's pause.

"Commander Sloan asks if we should secure from General Quarters?" the talker asked. Jacob was about to speak in the affirmative, but something stopped him.

"Negative," he replied, dimly recalling an intelligence briefing from long ago. "Also, did that Dutchman ever send his signal again?"

Farmer looked over at Jacob.

"You still seem suspicious, Captain Morton?" he noted.

"Suspicious men live long, fruitful lives in war," Jacob replied. "Plus I remember reading somewhere that the Germans had a couple of 'Q-ships' or whatever that had the same punch as a light cruiser."

Farmer nodded.

"I believe they call them Schiff, sir," Farmer said. "Nasty little buggers. When the truce fell through, several of them were already at sea. Caused quite a bit of damage to the whaling fleet and some unescorted vessels."

Jacob pursed his lips.

"We'll stay at a bit of range," he said, turning back to the signaling rear vessel. Again the response was gibberish other than Abbekirk and, for the other vessel, Antenor. As he relayed the name to the talker, Jacob saw Farmer's brow knit.

"What's the matter, Commander Farmer?" he asked.

"That name is fam…that's a bloody raider!" Farmer shouted. "The Antenor struck a mine off of Espiritu Santo last month!"

Well shit.

"Signal the Pillsbury!" he barked. "Order her–"

Jacob did not get a chance to finish his sentence before both vessels ahead of them executed hard turns to port. Although at 10,000-yards the Houston was too