The derisive screech of the nesting seagulls could be heard as the sun set over the brilliant Mediterranean, its rays casting a warm glow over the whitewashed buildings of the harbour. A solitary man stood at one of the large bay windows that adorned the villa at the marina forefront, the buttons of his navy blue coat gleaming in the orange glow.
"Ammiraglio? Where are you, Ammiraglio?" A high-pitched voice sang, echoing through the house.
"I'm here, Fiume!" the Ammiraglio called. He strode away from the windows and sidled behind his study desk, pretending to check his papers. In a brief moment Fiume burst in, dressed in her usual striped blouse and dress and long white and red striped socks.
"You called, sir?" Fiume stopped in front of his desk, on her tiptoes. The Ammiraglio surveyed her for a moment. considering the task at hand. In a quick decision he pushed all misgivings out and prepared himself to deliver the task.
"I've been reading of your work in the field, Fiume," he began. It was a crafty start, and already he could see the anticipation light up in her eyes. "And so far it's been very good. I hope that you and your colleagues will be able to complete this task I have for you."
Fiume blushed, embarrassed by the compliment. "Oh, well, Ammiraglio, thank you very much, but it was really thanks to everyone else..." She petered off, unable to finish.
The Ammiraglio, however, didn't seem to notice. He smiled indulgently and ploughed on. "For this task, you'll be taking a full battle squadron," he stiffened, becoming businesslike. "You'll have Impero, Aquila, and the other three will be up to you. Do you understand?"
Fiume's head span. A battle squadron? With Impero as second, not as flagship? What was the meaning of this?
"Sir...? Am I to be flagship for this task?" she asked, dreading the answer.
"Yes, you are," the Ammiraglio shuffled his papers, but saw her growing discomfort. In a swift movement he got up and around the desk, and held Fiume close to comfort her. "I know, I know, it's a big responsibility, but you'll be fine, okay?"
He held her for a moment, and then broke the embrace. "You must be wondering why you're commanding this squadron. Let me fill you in." He went back behind the desk and pulled out a large map of the world. Laying it flat on his desk he pointed to the southern Atlantic. "We first received reports from our Atlantic outposts of a particularly large German squadron heading in a south-westerly direction, presumably headed for the Far East."
Fiume nodded, comforted. The Ammiraglio continued, "I don't know why they're headed there, and our spies at Wilhelmshaven know nothing of it. Of course, the officials won't tell us a thing about it. That's why I'm sending you out there. Go to Japan. Find out what the might of the Kriegsmarine is doing there."
A silence followed as Fiume digested the enormity of the task at hand. Find the Kriegsmarine? In the Pacific? It was all a little much to bear. At best Fiume managed a tiny nod to show she had understood.
The Ammiraglio considered her for a moment, and then looked down at the map. "The journey will be long, but I am sure that you will be able to make the best of it. Come back here tomorrow when you've picked your squadron, and I'll handle the rest."
Fiume hesitated for a second and quickly glanced at the Ammiraglio, but he was already engrossed with his paperwork. With leaden feet she walked out, her mind filled with nothing but confused thoughts. She stepped out of the villa and into the lamp-lit avenue. As she walked back to the dormitories she pondered over whom to bring for the mission.
Whatever doubts she had in mind, she quickly pushed them out. Her mind ran clear and sharp, picking out the best options in the face of the task. I've got Impero and Aquila, she thought to herself, and I have three others. Who shall they be? She thought of her own sisters, Zara and the rest – but she knew that she would have to be fast to catch the German fleet. She decided on Bolzano, the speediest of the Trento sisters. Yes. She would do nicely.
She thought of Guissano, d'Aosta, and Montecuccoli, the light cruisers – but dismissed them, thinking of their better employment at home. The submarines were all over the world, and she was sure that none of them were still left in port.
That left the destroyers. Many of them had never seen waters beyond the Atlantic and Mediterranean, and Fiume thought of Oriani and Aviere, who both had always dreamed the most of seeing the rest of the world. She imagined their excitement at the news, and with that thought knew that they would rise up to the challenge with enthusiasm.
The dormitory corridor was empty as she made her way to her room but halfway down Zara stepped out of her room, arms folded, a mask of jealousy thinly disguised on her aquiline features. Fiume stopped and looked up at her sister.
"So, what did the Ammiraglio want?" Zara asked casually, but there was a biting edge to her tone that Fiume sensed, and she chose her words carefully.
"Nothing much, some administrative duties, that's all-" But it was clear that Zara did not believe a single word of it – in a single fluid motion she pushed Fiume against the wall and pinned her against it with one hand.
"You lie! You've been getting intimate with my dear Ammiraglio, haven't you?" Zara angrily snarled, her eyes flaring.
"I-I don't know what you mean, sorella," Fiume hastily responded. "The Ammiraglio just sent for me, we discussed a few things, and-" With a roar of fury and passion Zara took Fiume by the shoulders and lifted her off the floor, shaking her like a ragdoll.
"Tell me! What did you and he talk about? I demand to-" Zara couldn't quite finish her demand as she made an odd gagging sound and suddenly released Fiume. She backed away, and Fiume could see the grey-haired and solemn Cavour, in the black dorm monitor uniform, holding a half-full syringe of green liquid.
Zara collapsed on the floor and Cavour looked down her, without emotion. "No loud noises after nine, Zara. I thought you, of all the girls, should know that." She turned to Fiume, who was catching her breath. "And you, Fiume, you should be in your room now. Go, and don't let me catch you outside after nine again." Cavour smiled thinly, and turned to drag Zara back into her room.
Fiume didn't need a second telling. She hurried into her room, and as she closed the door she could hear gentle laughter and the soft scraping of a body being dragged on carpet.
Four hectic days of preparation and trials passed. At last, Fiume stood on the marina pier, surrounded by her companions for the mission – Impero, shocking red hair bobbing in the breeze, lithe and strong; Aquila, with her great arbalest and flight deck pavise, standing tall in the sun; and Bolzano with her multitude of batteries and long sword at her side, playing with the two little destroyers, Oriani and Aviere, who ran rings around Bolzano in their excitement.
To farewell them the Ammiraglio was there – next to him the stunning blonde of a battleship Littorio stood, martial and dignified. Off on the quay stood Guissano, Barbarico, and a number of the little destroyers all frantically waving streamers in the usual effusive farewell.
"Pacific Squadron, reporting for duty, sir!" Fiume stepped forward and saluted, her rigid fingers barely brushing against the visor of her cap.
The Ammiraglio returned the salute, and so did Littorio. As the hands came down the Ammiraglio and Fiume stepped forward to shake hands, as a sign of good fortune – but the Ammiraglio surprised everyone by kneeling on one knee and coming down to her level.
"Fiume, I wish the very best of luck for your mission. May God look upon your work and smile," the Ammiraglio murmured to her. It was an unusual farewell, but Fiume understood its meaning. She nodded once in acknowledgement – and the Ammiraglio smiled and stood up straight. On the quay the throng cheered louder, and behind him Littorio smiled as well, radiating approval.
Fiume stepped away, and pivoted to face the assembled squadron. "Pacific Squadron, let's go!" she shouted, taking a big leap into the harbour. The other girls jumped in after her, and with a great roar they steamed off, streaking past the harbour lighthouse and into the blue Mediterranean. The race was on!
