“Impressive damn thing,” he murmured.
Simpson smiled thinly. “Isn’t it? And don’t I wish I’d actually have something like that, when we’re done. I’m seriously tempted to have it duplicated and use it for a recruiting poster.” He examined the painting, for a moment. Then, softly: “I put it up partly because Mary would have been upset if I hadn’t. But, more than that, to remind myself of how we must sometimes seem to the people of this era. Bigger than life. Much bigger, at times.”
The perspicacity of the last remark intrigued Mike. But before he could pursue the thought, Eddie Cantrell came into the room and moved to stand against the office wall. Immediately, Simpson was all business. He offered Mike a chair, and then walked around to seat himself behind the desk.
There was absolutely no warmth in the look Simpson gave Mike, after they were both seated. But there was none of the bluster or posturing he’d more than half expected, either, he realized. It left him feeling off-balance, like someone prepared for a fight who isn’t getting it. Almost uncertain, in fact, which was rare for Mike. He wondered if that was the reason Simpson was doing it.
Then he shook himself mentally and he drew a deep breath. “We’ve got a problem,” he said bluntly.
Simpson nodded. “So I gathered from your radio message.”
Mike drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Here,” he said. “It’ll probably save a little time if you just read Gustavus’ message yourself, while we’re waiting for Jesse to finish securing the plane. Especially the last two sentences.”
Simpson unfolded the sheet and laid it on his desk. The message wasn’t a very long one:
YOUR MESSAGE RE DESTRUCTION DUTCH FLT RECEIVED. BALTIC ONLY LOGICAL TARGET FOR RICHELIEU. EXPECT JOINT DANISH-FRENCH NAVAL ATTACK SOON. PROBABLE TARGETS STOCKHOLM, LUEBECK, WISMAR, ROSTOCK, STRALSUND, GOTEBORG, OLAND. STOCKHOLM, LUEBECK, WISMAR ALL VITAL TO WAR. AM PREPARED TO ORDER ADMIRAL GYLLENHJELM TO DEFEND STOCKHOLM AND PERSONALLY UNDERTAKE DEFENSE LUEBECK. GARRISON FOR LUEBECK HOWEVER CAN ONLY BE DRAWN FROM WISMAR, ROSTOCK, STRALSUND. I CAN AFFORD LOSE ROSTOCK AND STRALSUND. NOT WISMAR. URGENTLY REQUIRE ALL POSSIBLE SUPPORT. MOST URGENT YOU ADVISE ME IMMEDIATELY ON AVAILABLE SUPPORT WISMAR. ALSO ADVISE IF YOUR IRONCLADS CAN ENTER BALTIC TO NEUTRALIZE DANISH-FRENCH NAVAL FORCES THERE.
He read it through twice, carefully. By the time he was done, Jesse Wood had entered the room and taken another chair. Simpson handed the message silently to Eddie and looked up at Mike.
“Yes,” he said simply. “But not immediately.”
“Are you serious?” Mike asked. “You think you really can get these monsters—” he gestured through the office window at the flank of a looming armored vessel which looked far larger in the flesh than he’d ever envisioned from the plans “—through to Luebeck?”
“I said I could,” Simpson replied a bit more testily, then gave his head an impatient twitch. “Oh, it won’t be easy. And there’s no way in hell you can get one of these ships—not even one of the timberclads—through the Stecknitz, much less across the Schwerin to Wismar! If you’re really serious about our neutralizing the Danes, we’re going to have to go through Hamburg, into the North Sea, up the Helgoland Bight, through the Skaggerak, and down through the Kattegat. We’ll have to fight our way through the Belt to break into the Baltic, but that shouldn’t be a problem. As a matter of fact, I’m more worried about making the trip than I am about what we may have to fight at the other end. When we modified the original design for the ironclads, we made them a little more seaworthy than most river defense vessels, but they were never really intended to operate in the open sea, even in coastal waters. Fortunately, the Baltic is fairly sheltered. We should be able to handle any conditions we’re likely to meet there.”
His confidence, Mike realized, was not at all assumed. He meant it, and the President felt his gloom ease ever so slightly.
My God, he thought. Who would ever have thought Simpson could actually make me feel better about something?
He glanced at Jesse. The head of the Air Force was scowling slightly, but it was simply a thoughtful expression, not a hostile one.