Chapter Twenty-One;
Men of Power

While Kate thought about her bad luck, and Remington moved slowly but surely towards the Hammersley, another man was seated behind a large table at Canberra, bargaining for a chance. The man, large and friendly, just frowned at the threats from the current Prime Minister, a frog-faced man named Argyle. Argyle, a backbencher from Labor, knew nothing about the real world and so the man and his backing group, a small local committee calling themselves the 'Forefront Group', absolutely hated him. The leader of the Forefront Group, another large friendly man named Kingsley, just stood.

"And, if the rumour is that the Army are causing trouble in Sydney then I'm inclined to believe it."

Argyle shook his head. "They are nothing more than rumours put forwards by an incompetent Captain."

"Forgive me if I am prone to believing a Captain over the new Admiral sir, we all know Henshaw has been on a power trip since he joined."

Argyle turned on the man from the Forefront Group who had just stood up. "And you are?"

The man smiled. "Call me Finch."

Argyle frowned. "I don't know any Finch, who are you then?"

Finch shook his head. "Not important. All that matters is that you and I are both aware Henshaw is a nutcase. And this Redgrave fellow, I don't know him that well, but he's never struck me as a good name."

Argyle scoffed. "And Captains Price and Flynn are?"

Finch nodded. "I know Captain Flynn and he's always been a good, honest man."

"Indeed, he has a pretty clean record, but his pirate aspirations have always plagued his promotions. You don't think this is just another attempt to revisit those high times when he captained the…" Argyle consulted his notes but Finch cut in.

"The Hammersley Prime Minister, I'm sure you know their history with the capture of Ray Walsman and their work on Samaru."

Argyle didn't ask how Finch knew this, just nodded. "That's right, the Hammersley." He frowned at his notes. "It briefly mentions Samaru." He shut his notes. "But it's unimportant. What matters now is that Captain Flynn seems to have been waylaid by Captain Price. You cannot deny that Price has a dirty record."

Finch frowned. "I fear I don't know Captain Price as well as I should, but I know enough from people who have worked with him to know he's a passionate man who cares about the safety of his crew and Captain Flynn wouldn't have anything to do with him if his name were to tarnish his."

"So what do you suggest we do Mr. Finch?" Argyle asked, his eyes dancing between Finch and Kingsley.

"I won't tell you how to do your job Prime Minister, but from my experience with the Navy…" Argyle frowned but let Finch continue. "I found you could usually trust the lower-ranked Officers much more than the higher-ranked ones." He smiled. "And you can trust the Navy much more than the Army."

"Well, whatever your Navy experience happens to be Mr. Finch, I'm disposed to believe the high-ranking officers more than the young men so, to keep you lot happy and stop this coming up against me, I will marshal Redgrave and allow him to explain the rumours."

"He'll deny it." Kingsley pointed out.

"So be it Mr. Kingsley, so be it. Now, if that's all, I'm a very busy man. Thank you for your time men." The Prime Minister stood and left the boardroom.

Finch looked at Kingsley. "I give him four more weeks."

Kingsley smiled. "A big call. I'd give him four more days."

***

Back in Sydney, the crews of the only two ships at HMAS Kuttabul were preparing to leave for their stint out at sea. On the Brisbane, Price was avoiding the men but on the Canberra Mike was on the bridge, looking out at the city with a sad look. He glanced away from the city and back towards the Brisbane, the big ship nearby starting to rumble as they started up their engines. Mike knew then that it was time to go. "Prepare to sail." Mike glanced at his second-in-command who nodded and grabbed the pipe. At the same time, Mike went for the radio. "You ready to go Price?"

"I'm ready to get the hell out of Sydney." Price's voice came through. "Can I ask you something Mike?" Mike murmured an affirmative response. "Is it bad that I want to sing when I look at what's left of Sydney?"

Mike frowned. "What?"

Price laughed then launched into his best singing voice. "'This fire is out of control, I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city.'" He sang. Mike shook his head. "Franz Ferdinand." Price clarified as if he'd seen Mike's response.

"What is wrong with you? Were you dropped on your head as a child?" Mike asked, his tone serious.

"Maybe." Price laughed again. "See you when we get out of this hellhole Mikey. Price out." The radio dropped out and Mike put it down, watching the Brisbane back out of the docks and into the harbour.

As the ship turned slowly towards the heads and the way out to the sea, Mike turned his attention back to his crew. "Alright, let's go."