The old Vengeful
Anthony Price
Language: English
Pages: 214
ISBN: 0385187505
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When David Audley, that most subtle of Intelligence chiefs, sends his insubordinate protege Paul Mitchell off to investigate a KGB operation by researching a long-forgotten naval engagement off France in 1812, it doesn't look to Mitchell as if it will lead anywhere. But the fate of the crew of the Vengeful has more than a few surprises in store for Mitchell and suddenly the past throws a dazzling and very dangerous light on the present.
grateful to him now, just for coming down to her level—for being human just for a moment. “P-please … can you t-tell me …” she had to concentrate hard to hold her glass steady and to keep the coat wrapped round her at the same time “… why all this is happening?” “Well… I should have thought you knew the answer to that much better than I do, Elizabeth,” he chided her gently. “But I don’t—I don’t!” “Well… somebody thinks you do. In fact, somebody is very sure that you do … so perhaps you do.”
medals proudly. His eye was drawn to the other picture on the page, of the Vengeful burning furiously, with a list to port, but still spitting gunfire from her 4-inchers, and with a couple of mortally-wounded E-boats in foreground and background. It was a painting, and it had probably never been as dramatic as that, but the artist’s untruth conveyed the truth of the battle, which was that the elderly ship had died well and not alone. “Those old boys are the surviving Vengefuls, I take it?”
This was the big year—1812!” “The year of Salamanca,” said Paul. “One of David Audley’s maternal ancestors was killed at Salamanca, charging with Le Marchant’s cavalry in Wellington’s greatest victory, as he never tires of telling us.” “Greatest victory—phooey!” Aske sniffed derisively. “Napoleon withdrew forty of his best battalions from Spain for Russia. Spain was a side-show, compared with Russia—like Greece and North Africa were side-shows in 1941 compared with Russia. Once they’d dealt
least he’d be safe, anyway.” “Where does timing come into this?” persisted Aske. “At first they did march towards Verdun—they nearly got there, in fact. But then they were diverted to the Lautenbourg, and Colonel Suchet turned up. And then they were in trouble.” Paul looked at Elizabeth. “Timing, Elizabeth.” He expected something of her—and since he could hardly expect her to be brighter than Aske it must relate to something he expected her to know, and to be able to put together as he had
your prowess with our history scholarship girls, and I have admired your results from afar. You have a rare gift, I think—rare, because those who have it tend to gravitate to university teaching … But you have not, and I am glad of it.” In that instant all Elizabeth’s plans for enjoying her ill-gotten gains as a rich woman went out of the window: if this old gentleman thought she must teach, then she must teach. “I very much regret that circumstances have militated against our meeting until