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with a matrix of oxygenated saltwater tanks populated by
rare and colorful fish. He dropped the sausage into an aquarium where it was
instantly gobbled up by a nasty sharp-toothed piranha.
    Darlan retrieved
the little meat-eater with a net and deposited it in a tank which held a black,
slithering moray eel.
    He checked to see
that Lafayette and Bruno were watching.
    There was a moment
of stillness and then the fight began with both fish proceeding to take little
vicious bites at the other.
    “These two are not
unlike our dear friends England and Germany,” said Darlan. “And here we see a
different kind of hunter...” He gestured to a baby thresher shark lurking in a
dark corner of the tank. “A predator who lets the other two fight while he
waits... Waits until his enemies are too tired to fight any more.”
    The thresher began
to move in toward the wounded fighting fish.
    “Consider our
friend the shark here as ourselves,” continued Darlan.
    There was a
violent movement, the famous threshing of the tail and when the tank gravel had
settled the piranha and the eel were belly up. The tank belonged to the shark.
    “Gentlemen: The
indomitable power of patience.”
    Bruno burst into
applause. “Brilliant!”
    Lafayette’s face
was neutral. “What about Stalin? Roosevelt?”
    Darlan wasn’t
fazed. “What about them?”
    “Waiting for
Germany and England to destroy each other could take years. We may exceed the
range of bombers for now, but soon there will be American planes capable of
circling half the world without refueling.”
    Darlan was
unswayed. “That is why, like the shark, we must keep moving.”
    The red telephone
on Darlan’s vast antique desk shrilled.
    Darlan answered
it. “Oui?”
    He hung up and
looked perturbed as he crossed to a small door that opened to a narrow wooden
deck jutting over the water. Lafayette and Bruno followed him onto the catwalk.
    Broken sunshine
dappled the placid sea and a light breeze wafted salty air their way. Darlan
lifted up a bucket of chum and scooped it into the water with a small trowel.
    “Still, Admiral,”
Lafayette persisted, “it is only a matter of time before our position is
pinpointed by Churchill or Hitler. Or any enemy of France.”
    Darlan shoveled
more chunks of amberjack into the water and the combination of blood and guts
formed a slick that started to attract fins.  
    “We should be
careful not to underestimate the British,” Lafayette continued. “The Royal Navy
is the largest military force in the world and has been for four hundred years.
It took the Romans two attempts to conquer England and she proved too hard for
Napoleon. No other European nation has kept its boundaries intact over so many
centuries.”
    Bruno squared his
glasses and watched as medium-sized blacktips and long, scalloped hammerheads
glided in lazy loops around the bloody offerings before lurching into a feeding
frenzy.
    “I, of all people,
whose family sacrificed at the altar of English imperialism, do not need a
lesson on Napoleon’s history with the British,” said Darlan. “Why are you
extolling the virtues of France’s enemy?”
    “I am merely
pointing out that Winston Churchill and the Royal Navy may defeat Germany with
or without France’s battleships. The Kriegsmarine was crippled by Norway and
will need time to rebuild. England has fifty destroyers, twenty-one cruisers
and eight battleships. Hitler will need to mount an airborne and amphibious
invasion of England. In my humble opinion, there is a strong chance he could
fail.”
    “The bomber will
always get through,” said Darlan. “If the Luftwaffe’s attacks on military
targets fail, shelling civilians will force the British government to
surrender.”
    “England will
never defeat Germany,” said Bruno. “I think they will be lucky to be offered an
armistice. The Reich’s might is colossal. Germany is Rome and will rule Europe
for the next thousand years.”
    Darlan glowered at
him. “No one asked