Strike from the Sea (1978) by Douglas Reeman Page B

surged to the surface, foam spouting from her saddle tanks like expelled breath, the gun crews, lookouts and the rest of the bridge party hurried to their stations.
    Ainslie barely had time to wipe the bloom from his binoculars and jam them to his eyes when the reports were completed. Turret closed up. Lookouts closed up. All tubes loaded.
    He said, ‘Tell the first lieutenant to increase revs for fifteen knots.’
    He shifted the glasses from bow to bow. An air raid on the city, but as yet no follow up. A quick return on the surface might get them past any invasion armada, but he would have to make sure the recognition signals were perfect, otherwise
Soufrière
would be the first target of the day.
    Menzies sounded subdued. ‘First lieutenant wants to speak, sir.’
    Ainslie waited for Forster to take his place on the forward gratings and then bent over the voice-pipe. ‘Captain.’
    ‘Another signal, sir. Three Japanese troop landings reported. Pattani and Kota Baharu, both in Malaya, and Singora further north, but no real information yet available.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    Ainslie looked at the stars. Just like their pattern in the sky the Japanese command had made each move with precision.The air attack had been a feint, while the main assault had been high up on the east coast of Malaya. Not towards the great guns of the ‘invincible fortress’, but behind them. He chilled. No wonder that Japanese submarine commander had made no fuss or protest. As he had sat there watching the
Soufrière
taken from under his nose, he had known all the while that his country was poised for the attack. He must be laughing now.
    He thought angrily of the chief of staff’s complacency, his thinly veiled contempt for Critchley’s ideas. It was to be hoped the defence and counter-attacks would not be left to men like him.
    Quinton called, ‘Another signal just decoded, sir. Force Z has sailed from Singapore. All patrols are warned to give them complete priority.’
    Force Z. Ainslie pictured the two great ships with their escorts steaming at top speed from the base, heading out like angered beasts to smash the enemy before he could do more harm.
    He replied, ‘Keep a good listening watch. That Jap sub may be about. What a pair of targets for her!’
    He turned to Forster. ‘Go below, Pilot. I’ll need you if I have to dive in the shallows.’
    Forster nodded and threw his leg over the hatch coaming. He had just been thinking about Daphne. The letter he would write. Nothing definite or binding. A feeler, to discover how she was managing. Now all of it had been stirred into confusion by the news. Invasion. Attack. What the hell would they do?
    But the rest of the night was uneventful, nor were there any more urgent signals from base. A storm in a teacup. A try-on which had gone badly wrong.
    As the
Soufrière
reduced speed and pushed her way towards the naval anchorage, Ainslie, like the others of the bridge and casing party, saw the motionless pall of smoke above the city. There must be miles of it, he thought.
    A light blinked from the old depot ship, and Menzies read, ‘
Come alongside when ready,
sir.’
    ‘Acknowledge.’ He leaned over the screen and waved to the second coxswain, the ‘casing king’, who was already directing his men to prepare the springs and breast ropes for coming alongside. ‘Port side to, PO!’
    ‘At least the base seems untouched, sir.’ Ridgway, tired and strained, stood beside him again, his cap tilted over his eyes.
    ‘Yes.’ How bare it looked without the two big capital ships. ‘I expect we shall soon get organized.’
    The bridge messenger called, ‘First lieutenant’s here, sir.’
    Ainslie crossed to the voice-pipe in a stride. ‘Yes, Number One?’ He could feel his stomach muscles bunching as if to receive a blow, yet he did not know why.
    Quinton said, ‘We’ve just had the news, sir. The Japs attacked the American base at Pearl Harbour and knocked it flat. They say it was just