“I suppose that is what some might call it. In any event, we exchange information that could be useful to those we trust over there as well.”
“Tell us what you know,” I insisted. “Not Sir Avery’s approved version,” I added. “All of it.”
He squirmed ever so slightly and reminded me of the young man we first met, fresh from university and quite wide-eyed over the prospect of working for the Agency.
“The word ‘torch’ is one we picked up several months ago, but with nothing to go on, no way of knowing that it was in fact the name someone went by until we decoded this recent message, and it specifically referred to the fact that ‘Torch’ would make certain everything was handled.
“There was no mention of Hammer. This is the first I’ve heard of it. But obviously from what you’ve been able to learn, it would seem to have something to do with the one known as Torch.”
But who was Torch? And what was important about those secret meetings at St. John’s Wood?
“What about Saber?” I asked of that third name Adele had revealed.
Again, Alex shook his head. “There has been no mention in anything the Agency has received.”
“B-10 is obviously a secret project.” Or at least it was supposed to be, except for our discovery of it, for which we had been temporarily taken into custody by Naval authorities.
“What is the purpose of B-10?” Brodie inquired.
“I cannot...” Alex began, then stopped. “I do see your point. When finished, it will support a crew underwater with the ability to move about unseen.”
“Jules Verne,” I commented. His imagination soon to become reality.
“Who else would have an interest in it?” Brodie pressed him.
It was obvious this part of the conversation was not what had been intended as far as Sir Avery was concerned.
“It could be of interest to other governments or agencies.”
A man who disguised himself with the name ‘Torch,’ a naval vessel with the ability to enter any port without being detected.
Spying indeed, I thought, and it had become deadly.
Brodie was thoughtful.
“It could be beneficial for another government to have B-10.”
“Steal it?” Alex remarked with more than a little surprise. “That would be impossible. The Solent and all of the naval yards are heavily guarded. No one is allowed...” he hesitated. “With the exception of yourselves, of course. An accident that will not be repeated. In any event, B-10 is not yet seaworthy, and there will need to be tests run.”
“Wot about those involved with the development of the thing?” Brodie asked.
“Everyone associated with B-l0 has impeccable records, from the designers to the High Lord of the Admiralty, and Vice Admiral Lindhurst, who has experienced some illness.”
“You’ve met Sir Williams. He’s been part of the project from the beginning, and liaison to the Home Secretary as well as HRH the Prince of Wales.”
“What sort of illness?” I inquired regarding Admiral Lindhurst.
“A severe case of gout, unfortunately, that has not subsided. The poor man cannot walk, and it was decided that his position should be overseen by Vice Admiral Williams.”
Was it possible that there was something to this? A convenient illness, and then being replaced by another man?
An impeccable record with the Royal Navy. It seemed that everyone with connections to B-10 was investigated, and had passed scrutiny.
“Does the date 18 April mean anything to you?” I explained.
“We’ve not received any reference to that in any communication.” Alex looked from me to Brodie. “What do you know about it?” he asked.
That was the problem; we didn’t know anything about it. Only that it was an entry in Adele’s journal.
