The following morning, the members of Operation Pincer gathered in gloomy silence to discuss the aftermath of last night's assault. The Colonel wasted no time in heaping the blame on the science boffin.
"Rusty, your damn plan was a shambles! 12 good men dead, for your precious scientific data. And you're no closer to finding a weakness of the bally things. I knew we should have just bombed the devil out of them."
Rusty let the Captain run out of steam before responding. While he was a timid man by nature, he had a fierce edge when his beloved scientific method was insulted.
"With all due respect, Colonel, we can't just bomb the ocean, like you suggest. It's a pretty big place, we can't spare the ordinance. And even if we could, detonating that quantity of explosives in the water is a horrendous idea. Besides, we did obtain some usable data."
Rusty took this opportunity to polish his glasses, he was at ease now, entirely in his element.
"We know that the crabs have a leader, a rudimentary society, and possess a cunning intelligence. We know that they are unperturbed by fire, and are impervious to small arms fire."
"In other words, the bastards are invincible and we're doomed!", the Colonel moaned.
"That's not what I said. In fact, they were slowed down, staggered and deterred by the higher calibre ammunition of our aircraft. I theorize that heavy weapons may prove sufficient. Even if their shell is impervious to our weapons, the shockwaves of an sufficiently large explosion may liquefy the soft meat inside."
"So, just bomb them then?"
"No, we'd need something more powerful than anything we have in our arsenal. But don't worry, I have a cunning plan..."
A figure burst in through the double doors of the meeting room, out of breath and in some distress. Several of the gathered group jumped to their feet in alarm. Only Max remained seated, unflinching in his calm composure.
"Bond! Nice of you to join us, what on Earth is the matter with you?" exclaimed the Colonel, hairs of his moustache standing on end with alarm and indignation. Bond gathered himself before responding.
"Well, everyone. We have managed to intercept some encrypted communication from an enemy U-Boat just 40 miles from our coast!"
The room erupted in a flurry of voices and alarm. As it settled, Rusty could be heard to utter "Fucking hell!".
"Thanks to the work of Turing and the boys in Bletchley, we've managed to decrypt it. Turns out they're not only aware of these crabs, but responsible for them!"
"Some sort of sadistic scientific project of Hitler, no doubt." spat Rusty, angry at this perversion of science.
"Yes, and this fits with some intel gathered by our spies not too long ago. A Dr. Brachyura of Japan was spotted in Germany."
"The geneticist?" asked Rusty? "And one of the leading experts in harnessing the energy of the atom?"
Bond smirked joylessly.
"I expected you to be familiar with his work. Looks like he's behind some Nazi project to create a biological weapon. And we're the test case. Oh, and some worse news, apparently they are planning another assault for tonight!"
Max stood up from the table. He had grown tired of this endless discussion, but relished the idea of flying another combat mission.
"So, what's our play?"
"Hold on, Captain." admonished Bond. "We still have a problem. Somehow the Nazis were able to observe last night's raid. Either they've got some impressive surveillance technology, or there's a mole on our side. We can't make a plan until we plug our leak."
"Oh, that would explain things."
"Explain what, Mr. Thrustcock? If you have any information pertaining to a spy among us, share it immediately!"
"I wouldn't worry about a spy, sir. There was something in the air with me last night, sir. Some form of silent craft, or so I thought. Could have been a glider. I didn't speak up because I thought I may have been imagining things, but it fits. They've got eyes in the sky."
Rusty jumped to his feet, in joy.
"Eureka!" he cried. "That's it, that's our plan. Listen up everyone, I know how to solve this problem."
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