H. M. S. Ulysses [antikvár]

chapter onePRELUDE: SUNDAY AFTERNOONSlowly, deliberately, Starr crushed out the butt of his cigarette. The gesture, Captain Vallery thought, held a curious air of decision and finality. He knew what was coming next, and, just for a moment, the sharp bitterness of defeat cut through that dull ache that never left his forehead nowadays. But it was only for a momenthe was too tired really, far too tired to care.'Tm sorry, gentlemen, genuinely sorry." Starr smiled thinly. "Not for the orders, I assure youthe Admiralty decision, I am personally convinced, is the only correct and justifiable one in the circumstances. But I do regret your ahinability to see our point of view."He paused, proffered his platinum cigarette case to the four men sitting with him round the table in the Rear-Admiral's day cabin. At the four mute headshakes the smile flickered again. He selected a cigarette, síid the case back into the breast pocket of his double-breasted grey suit. Then he sat back in his chair, the smile quite gone. It was not difficult to visualise, beneath that pin-stripe sleeve, the more accustomed broad band and golden stripes of Vice-Admiral Vincent Starr, Assistant Director of Naval Operations."When I flew north from London this morning," he con-tinued evenly, "I was annoyed. I was very annoyed. I am well, I am a fairly busy man. The First Sea Lord, I thought, was wasting my time as well as his own. When I return, I must apologise. Sir Humphrey was right. He usually is . . ."His voice trailed off to a murmur, and the flint-wheel of his lighter rasped through the strained silence. He leaned forward on the table and went on softly."Let us be perfectly frank, gentlemen. I expectedI surely had a right to expectevery support and full co-operation OCP/933A*9