novelAbuy Chapter 60 This is a disgrace! A blatant disgrace!
Chapter 60 This is a disgrace! A blatant disgrace!
London, 10 Downing Street, Emergency Cabinet Meeting
"This is a disgrace! A blatant disgrace!"
Chancellor Asquith slammed his fist on the table, making the teacups clink. The meeting room was filled with smoke, and everyone's face was grim.
Prime Minister Campbell-Bannaman sat in the head seat, holding two telegrams he had just received—one from the Viceroy's Office and the other from the HMS Intrepid. Both telegrams said the same thing: that damned HMS Reconquista was going to Mumbai port, and under the guise of a "friendly visit."
"What are they trying to do?" Asquith continued to roar. "To stab the Empire in the throat, and claim it's for 'replenishing fresh water'? This is provocation! This is an act of war!"
"And how will you respond?" Foreign Secretary Lounstown asked coldly, "To fire on a ship that's merely requesting to replenish its freshwater supply? In front of the whole world?"
"We can refuse! We can ban it from entering the port!"
"And then?" First Sea Lord Fisher spoke, his voice surprisingly calm. "Let it anchor outside the main channel, let all ships going in and out of Mumbai see it, let all the newspapers in India report 'The Royal Navy dares not let it into port'? What's the difference between that and letting it into port? No, the difference is greater—that would make us look cowardly."
The meeting room fell silent.
Fisher stood up and walked to the huge world map on the wall. He pointed to Mumbai and then slowly moved his finger to the Persian Gulf.
"Gentlemen, we must face reality. The reality is that this young man named Chen Feng, with just one warship, has cornered us." He turned around, his gaze sweeping over everyone. "He calculated every step precisely. First, he demonstrated his power in the Gulf of Oman, making us afraid to fire; then he led our fleet across the Indian Ocean, showcasing our speed and endurance; now, he's going to enter Mumbai, demonstrating that his ships can appear anywhere in the Empire."
"He is telling us: blockade is useless because his ships can easily break through; deterrence is useless because his ships are better than ours; even 'denying' is useless because he will appear in front of you and force you to acknowledge his existence."
Asquith opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but couldn't utter a word.
Because what Fisher said was true.
"Then what do you suggest we do?" asked War Minister Burden. "We can't just let it into port, can we? That would damage the Empire's prestige..."
"The Empire's prestige," Fisher interrupted him, "was already damaged when Abbasnot sent back the first report. Now all we can do is minimize the damage."
He walked back to his seat and picked up a document:
"The latest analysis from the Naval Intelligence Office. Based on thirty hours of observation from the USS Dreadnought, the USS Kwangfu has a speed of at least 30 knots, a main gun caliber of over 380 mm, and a displacement of over 35,000 tons. Its technological level is conservatively estimated to be five years ahead of ours, and in reality, it may be seven or even ten years ahead."
"This means that if war breaks out, all our strongholds in the Indian Ocean—Singapore, Colombo, Aden—will be within its strike range. And we won't be able to catch up or defeat it."
He put down the documents, and the conference room fell into a deathly silence.
"So my suggestion is," Fisher said slowly, "to agree to its 'replenishment of fresh water.' But with the following conditions: first, the time shall not exceed twenty-four hours; second, no more than twenty people shall go ashore; third, all activities shall be confined to the dock area; and fourth, the British fleet shall 'escort' it outside the port, which is actually surveillance."
"That's too weak!" Asquith protested.
"Do you have a better plan?" Campbell-Bannaman finally spoke. "Send the East India Fleet to intercept them? According to reports, the East India Fleet's most advanced warships are the Edward VII class, which are even inferior in performance to the HMS Dreadnought. The result of going to war could be the destruction of our entire naval force in the Indian Ocean."
He rubbed his temples, looking utterly exhausted.
"Gentlemen, we are not facing natives, nor second-rate nations. We are facing a power that possesses the next generation of naval technology. Moreover, this power is a partner of both Germany and France. If we handle this improperly, we could destabilize the entire European continent."
"What about the French..." Langston asked.
"I've arranged to meet with the French ambassador this afternoon," the Prime Minister said. "We need to know what agreement Paris and that 'Lanfang' have reached. More importantly, we need to know if they might... be on our side."
"On our side?" Asquith thought it was the biggest joke in the world. "The French are gloating right now! They spent three million eight hundred thousand pounds to buy a technological advantage that we couldn't even get for fifteen million pounds!"
"So we have to offer a higher price." Campbell-Bannaman stood up. "Gentlemen, let's vote. Those who agree to the Fisher plan—allowing the 'Restoration' limited access to Mumbai while simultaneously initiating secret negotiations with France—raise your hands."
He raised his hand first.
Fisher raised his hand.
Langston hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand as well.
Borden looked at it, sighed, and raised his hand.
Four to one.
Asquith slumped in his chair, as if all his strength had been drained.
"Alright," Campbell-Bannaman said. "Lanstown, go and inform the Viceroy's Office to proceed with this plan. Fisher, get ready to meet with the French ambassador this afternoon. We'll be discussing... things that may go beyond just the Indian Ocean."
Paris, Office of the Foreign Minister
"They agreed! The British agreed!"
General Charles Dubois practically burst into the office, waving the telegram he had just received. Foreign Minister Théophile del Cassel looked up, a rare smile spreading across the face of the shrewd old diplomat.
"Let me guess: Access is allowed, but with a bunch of restrictions?"
How did you know?
"Because that's how the British always do things." Delcaser took the telegram and quickly glanced at it. "When they can't stop it, they try to control it. When they can't refuse it, they try to limit it. Isn't that interesting? For three hundred years, it's been others going to London to request visits; now it's London asking others not to make their visits too conspicuous."
Dubois laughed, a hearty laugh. Ever since he received the news yesterday that the "Kuangfu" was diverting to Mumbai, he had been in a state of excitement.
"Minister, do you know what this means? It means our investment has been incredibly worthwhile. One 'Revival' ship has completely disrupted the British deployment in the Indian Ocean. And once our five 'Courbet-class' ships enter service..."
"Don't be too happy yet." Delcase put down the telegram, his expression turning serious. "The British won't sit idly by. They've already arranged to meet me this afternoon; I guess it's to discuss terms."
"What are the conditions?"
"Either we abandon our cooperation with Lanfang, or... let us share the fruits of our cooperation." Delcas walked to the window, looking at the traffic in Concorde Square outside. "The gentlemen of London have finally realized that they cannot solve problems with force. So next, they will use diplomacy, use deals, use their most proficient 'divide and conquer' strategy."
"Then we..."
"What we need to do is very simple: maintain a balance." The minister turned around. "On the one hand, continue to advance cooperation with Lanfang, which is the only chance for the French Navy to turn things around; on the other hand, do not completely reject the British—let them have hope, let them pay the price. Most importantly, we cannot let Lanfang completely side with Germany."