Chapter 249: The Value of Intelligence
To prevent leaks, the British Navy assembled under the strictest secrecy.
Large vessels such as aircraft carriers and battleships gathered at night as much as possible, using darkness to conceal the scale and direction of the operation.
But fortresses often crumbled from within.
Although Sempill had been transferred away from a key naval post because of his pacifist stance, his new position as Deputy Director of Aviation Logistics was still a peak that countless civilians could only dream of reaching.
However, Sempill clearly had his own ideas.
He took two confidential documents concerning aircraft carrier berths from the drawer of his desk. After confirming that he was alone, he drew the curtains and took out the miniature camera Piccolo had given him.
Just as he was about to take a photograph, a crisp knock at the door nearly made him fall to the floor.
"What… what is it?"
His adjutant whispered from outside, "Sir, there are two documents requiring your signature."
Sempill quickly stuffed the camera back into the hidden pocket of his trousers. He cleared his throat twice, forced himself to calm down, and said, "Come in."
Two documents were presented to him.
One concerned the quantity of aviation logistics equipment, while the other was a list of additional supplies for various aircraft carriers.
Sempill only glanced briefly at the first document before signing it.
But when his eyes swept across the second document, he suddenly sensed that something was wrong.
Almost every aircraft carrier that had sailed was on the list.
Only the recently deployed Illustrious-class aircraft carrier was missing.
Realizing that this might be an important piece of intelligence, Sempill probed casually, "Why is the Illustrious-class missing?"
"It is like this, sir. Headquarters did not request additional supplies for the Illustrious-class."
Although Sempill was a traitor, that did not mean his basic abilities were lacking.
Such a situation should have been impossible.
Unless the Illustrious-class had a special mission.
Although thoughts raced through his mind, Sempill's expression remained calm.
After writing his name in the signature field, he nodded and said, "I understand."
Then, as though speaking of something ordinary, he added, "By the way, I have some personal matters this afternoon. You may decide on ordinary documents for me. Leave anything you cannot decide on my desk."
This was not an unusual request.
Combined with his superior's usual habit of leaving early, the adjutant did not notice anything wrong. He collected the documents, raised his hand in salute, and said, "Yes, sir."
After that, Sempill drove home.
He picked up his private telephone and called Viscount Brar, with whom he had a good relationship. Brar worked in the Naval Operations Office.
"Hello? Mr. Brar. The usual place tonight?"
The line was full of noise.
After a moment, Brar's faint voice came through.
"No, Sempill. I have been very busy recently. There is a pile of matters concerning the Illustrious-class waiting for me to handle."
"What is wrong with the Illustrious-class?" Sempill pressed.
"Do not even mention it."
Brar sounded exhausted.
"The radar technology captured from the German Army is not mature, and our own research is not mature either. The incompatibility between systems is causing frequent malfunctions. With a mission coming up soon, my rest time has been crushed like cherry pie."
"Is the Illustrious-class going to Australia?"
Brar took a deep drag from his cigarette.
Although he realized this was confidential, he did not take it too seriously, because he regarded Sempill as one of his own.
"How could that be? Forget Australia, it cannot even go to the Mediterranean."
"It is only circling nearby. I will not go into the specifics of the mission, but the French are going to have a hard time."
"I have to go. See you this weekend. Come to my place. I recently found a bottle of old red wine that is excellent."
"Oh, and where did you buy those flowers you brought last time? Judy keeps talking about them."
After hanging up the telephone, Sempill hesitated for a moment.
Then he quickly dialed another number.
This time, the call connected to a flower shop.
Meanwhile, at the German Naval Command.
Jörg had anticipated Britain's actions, but because history had already changed, he was not certain that Britain would necessarily attack the French fleet in Algeria in the Mediterranean.
After all, things did not move rigidly according to memory.
And he did not quite believe Britain would take such a risk.
"Raeder, any news from the Mediterranean?"
Raeder, who had just been about to report on the Mediterranean situation, was astonished by Jörg's perceptiveness.
He had not expected the Führer to have such a premonition before he had even reported.
"I was just about to report to you, sir. The Italian fleet is showing signs of large-scale movement. We suspect they are planning a surprise attack against mainland France."
Jörg pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
"Italy cannot organize an attack plan on its own. Britain must have promised them a coordinated assault."
Raeder nodded repeatedly.
"I thought the same, sir."
He pointed to the sea chart.
"I suspect Britain may be preparing to attack the French naval port in Algeria, where a large number of French naval vessels are docked. It is an excellent target for a surprise attack."
"This would also explain the unusual movements of the Italian Navy. They should be serving as bait to draw our attention."
Jörg did not immediately accept this conclusion.
He always felt that although the reasoning sounded reasonable, something about it was strangely wrong.
Although Churchill knew that Germany's First Carrier Battle Group was deployed in the Mediterranean, Britain did not possess sufficient intelligence regarding the rest of Germany's naval forces.
Would they truly deploy directly into the Mediterranean pocket?
Was that really the kind of adventurous spirit the British could still muster after the failed Dunkirk evacuation?
Jörg did not think so.
It felt too rigid.
Just then, urgent footsteps sounded from the corridor.
Heydrich knocked on the door. Seeing someone inside, he hesitated over whether to speak.
Jörg spoke first.
"Say it directly."
"If Raeder were a British spy, my three aircraft carriers would have sunk to the bottom of the sea long ago."
He glanced at Heydrich.
"Besides, Raeder is your old superior. You should at least have that much trust."
"It is like this, sir."
Heydrich immediately reported, word by word, "Important intelligence has arrived from Britain. Britain is planning a surprise attack on a French port and will deploy at least one aircraft carrier."
"In the Mediterranean?" Raeder immediately pressed.
Heydrich shook his head.
"No. The intelligence specifically excludes the Mediterranean. We suspect the target should be on the English Channel or Bay of Biscay side."
Hearing this, Jörg's eyes lit up.
He gestured for Raeder to spread out the sea chart and asked, "Raeder, are there any large French fleets docked in the English Channel or the Bay of Biscay?"
After thinking for a moment, Raeder's expression suddenly changed.
"Yes, sir."
"Just a few days ago, the French Navy requested access to Étretat Port. At present, several vessels awaiting repairs are docked at Étretat, including battleships, cruisers, and destroyers."
Jörg was still not completely certain, so he asked again, "Are there any other naval bases holding a large number of vessels?"
"No, sir. Only Étretat."
Raeder answered firmly.
"Other ports have only minesweepers and submarines docked. No large vessels such as battleships are moored there."
At this point, Jörg could largely confirm it.
Britain intended to act at Étretat.
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