By now, all the Austrian Imperial Navy's warships had switched to steam power, allowing them to maintain high speed even in the Mediterranean's windless zones. The British Navy clearly couldn't do that yet.
Moreover, most of the Austrian Empire's main warships had completed their armor upgrades, and even the early airships had already passed their trials.
If the main fleets of Britain and Austria met when they were roughly equal in number, Friedrich felt he had a 99 percent chance of winning. The remaining 1 percent accounted for extreme circumstances, such as a tsunami or a meteor shower.
As for taking the island, that would be no problem either. For years, Friedrich had closely studied the British Mediterranean fleet and cultivated a large network of informants on Crete.
It was no exaggeration to say that Friedrich knew every move on Crete better than the commander of the British Mediterranean fleet.
As for the Albanian fleet meant to intimidate Austria, it was far too small. The Austrian Navy could crush it outright, or the army could simply attack its ports.
To be honest, even the British garrison in Albania didn't think it could choke Austria. And the local guerrillas and "mercenaries" had long since beaten the fight out of them.
In fact, Franz often sent mercenaries skilled in assassination to circle the British bases whenever they had nothing better to do.
Franz didn't want the British to get too comfortable on Austria's doorstep. They had to understand that they were merely Britain's pawns, nothing more than lambs waiting to be slaughtered.
With casualties reaching as high as 40 percent each year, the British Navy spoke of the place in hushed, fearful tones and had given it a distinctly Greek-sounding name: "Gates of Hades."
Friedrich's insistence put Count Latour in an awkward