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Silent Enemy
Silent Enemy
Silent Enemy
Ebook54 pages45 minutes

Silent Enemy

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After Italian frogmen sink two battleships in Alexandria harbour, the Admiralty is thirsting for revenge. The only question is where and when and how. No matter what is decided, there’s really only one man for the job and that’s Wilbur ‘Butch’ Cobb, former long-distance swimmer and now a member of that most exclusive club, the frogmen of both sides. With modern intelligence, not to mention their pre-war activities, it’s like they all know each other sometimes. Collectively, they are presently engaged in rewriting the rules of warfare in a game that is very, very dangerous. A short story of World War Two adventure and suspense.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherZach Neal
Release dateMay 1, 2016
ISBN9781927957974
Silent Enemy
Author

Zach Neal

Zach Neal has been writing ever since he can remember. A forestry management professional, he prefers the outdoors to the office. He lives in the Halton Hills overlooking the Greater Toronto Area. He studied at the University of Toronto. Zach’s a single father of two healthy and energetic children. Zach’s boys, Aaron and Jason, mean everything to him.

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    Book preview

    Silent Enemy - Zach Neal

    Silent Enemy

    Zach Neal

    Copyright 2016 Zach Neal and Long Cool One Books

    Design: J. Thornton

    ISBN 978-1-927957-97-4

    The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The author’s moral rights to the proceeds of this work have been asserted.

    Table of Contents

    Act One

    Act Two

    Act Three

    About Zach Neal

    Silent Enemy

    Zach Neal

    Act One

    Captain Claud Barrington Barry of H.M.S. Queen Elizabeth, a dreadnought battleship anchored in Alexandria harbour, was just sitting down to dinner.

    Tall, spare and balding, he was getting older now. It had been a long day and the captain enjoyed his little creature comforts.

    There were times when it was appropriate to walk through the seaman’s messes, maybe even impulsively sit down and have a bite to eat. There were times when it was good to sort of hide oneself away. It was the mystique of command, and that command personality had evolved over time with some element of study and application in purely human terms.

    It wasn’t exactly easy, being a captain.

    Is there a song called Alexandria Nights? The air was cooling off in the still of the evening, but that was only a relative term.

    The presence of the ocean put a little moisture in the air. It was downright balmy compared to a couple of miles inland.

    Er, I don’t really know, sir.

    Well. If not, there should be. Something long, sad and dreary, something highly-romanticized, would fit the bill nicely.

    Ah, yes, sir.

    So what are we having?

    The captain lifted the domed silver cover and leaned in for a sniff.

    Ah, hmn. He looked up in interrogative fashion. It’s not goat again, is it?

    Jackson coloured slightly.

    The Captain was in an odd mood this evening.

    One thing Barrington Barry had long since realized, was that he was never going to get Jackson to unbend. To get a smile was unlikely, a laugh unthinkable. It was too bad, really, as Barrington Barry at least liked to think of himself as relatively enlightened as far as commanders went, and there was little doubt that they were two of the loneliest men in the ship. The more he tried, the more uncomfortable it would become for Jackson—another revelation.

    A Captain couldn’t have any real friends unless a person had a command of their own, and a fair percentage of those were insufferable. Poor Jackson would have problems of his own, what with his unique position. It wasn’t like he had volunteered—but in the end, he’d turned out to be a pretty good choice. For one thing, he was bloody marvelous as a scrounger, wheeling and dealing with others like him all over the Fleet to get what he needed to keep his captain healthy, fit and well-fed. He also had a certain bearing. That very aloofness had caught Barrington Barry’s eye.

    It’s mutton, sir.

    Ah, splendid. There was a tossed salad, rare enough these days and with one or two items in it that didn’t look all that familiar.

    There were roasted potatoes and some very small and very firm green peas.

    Jackson cut off a pair of generous slices of fat, red meat and arranged the plate thoughtfully but not artistically, a feat of which he was probably incapable.

    Barrington Barry had just cut off the first small sample of lamb, still warm, and moist, placing it on his tongue and savouring it, his body just settling into the seat for the long haul when the first of two massive explosions went off.

    All the plates,

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