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Chapter 48
"Why do you give Nick his weapons back again?"
"I find that I have a lot less trouble if he is only protecting me, not trying to get his knife back off me at the same time as protect me." The M.O. nodded, then packed up his kit.
"Laudanum, and no work for a couple of days." Jack grinned. The M.O. was just about to get back into his car, when a loud scuffle at the end of the yard caused him to pause. Jack dove to his right, but missed Nick, scrambling to his feet he took off after his elusive bodyguard. The scuffle at the end of the yard soon appeared to be two separate groups ganged up on one man. Seconds later two dull explosions ripped the air, Jack knew his bodyguard was back in action again. Jack arrived, and with the help of the M.O. started clearing the unconscious men back into their barracks, a single glance showed him that no serious injuries had occurred. Nick had not used his peppermints apparently. Having finished cleaning up, Jack turned his attention to where his self-appointed bodyguard might be. He found Nick babbling in some queer language at the officer, who was staring in stunned amazement at Nick.
"Who is this fellow?"
"He is Nick." Nick ceased babbling at the sound of Jack's voice and went to stand behind him. Jack looked closely at the visitor. "And who might you be?"
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."
"Private John Townsend." The two men shook hands.
"Know anything about Nick?"
"He claims to be the Czar of Russia, but he has the worst manners I have ever seen. You have a decidedly beat up appearance, we've got a M.O. here right now. He'll check you over if you want."
"Thanks." Jack watched silently as the colonel relaxed against the nearby barrack.
"What precisely happened which caused the fight to start?" The colonel frowned thoughtfully.
"I believe I called one of them a swine after he hit me with a spade."
"That must have been Bill. Otherwise they'd have just laughed." The colonel looked at Nick.
"Unless it was you who was dealing out the compliments?"
"No, it would have to be Nick. Come, the M.O. is preparing to depart again."
Granna sat quietly knitting, it had been rather long the last couple of weeks. For all her knowing it useless, Granna could not help but worry on occasion when the boys were out.
"Granna!" Granna looked up, dropped her knitting and stood up as Ted burst into the room.
"What is it Ted?"
"Gramp wants you in the radio room immediately." Ted paused to catch a bit more of his breath. "He says it's urgent." Granna paled slightly at that, but nodded.
"Tell Gramp that I'll be right up." Ted vanished out the door, as Granna sat down and clenched her hands. She stood up again as her emotions came back under control, Gramp would never label anything urgent unless it was bad news. Granna walked quietly out of the room, and up to the radio room. She found Gramp seated by the radio and looking tired. "What is it Gramp." Gramp silently indicated the radio. Granna picked it up. "Dynnyrner here."
"Dusty in a hurry. Could I speak to Granna?"
"Granna Apples. What is it Dusty?" Granna could hear the break in Dusty's voice, this spelt serious trouble. Dusty remained silent for a moment, then coughed and choked.
"I'll be returning tomorrow." Granna stiffened.
"James?"
"I'm sorry Granna, but he would have it no other way." Granna closed her eyes for a second, there was no time for tears now.
"What of Fizz?"
"We found him. He'll return as soon as his finished his present job."
"Was Beth's release due to him?"
"Yes." Dusty's response was curt.
"Then the assumption about her nightmares was correct."
"It seems so. Fizz is not at all communicative."
"No messages?"
"James left his love and apologies to Beth, and his love to everybody."
"I thought as much. Get home Dusty."
"I will." The radio went dead, and Granna turned and looked at Gramp.
"How do we tell them?" Gramp stared blankly in front of himself.
"Immediately." Granna nodded, and gave Gramp a hand out of his chair, they silently departed the radio room. Granna rang the gong, three times, waited then rang it again. Seconds later there was a subdued gathering of Fitzwilliams. Kenneth looked quietly at his parents, then hugged them, slowly everyone joined in.
"Who was it?"
"James." No more was said by anyone, tears had to wait.
It was a subbed greeting a the jetty three days later.
"Why did he do it Dusty?" Dusty grabbed Granna into a large hug.
"He did it to save me, and to save England. We found part of a line, Fizz is cleaning up now." Granna nodded, then slowly the tears started to come. "Has Beth been told?" Granna shook her head. "I'll tell her tomorrow. We have orders to terminate the fish." Dusty handed Granna to Gramp and slowly the group went to the house.
Chapter 49
Granna sat up suddenly, she did not know what had woken her, but she was going to find out. Granna pulled on her bathrobe and slippers and left the room, over the years she had developed a sixth sense for problems, and tonight was a prime night for it. Granna padded softly down the long passageways, comforted James Jr. who was crying softly, all else seemed quiet, but Granna knew that she had not yet found what she was looking for. With a sigh she started to walk towards the kitchen, then she paused, and walked to Dusty's room.
"Dusty?" There was a slight grunt then Dusty bade her to enter gruffly. Granna entered and placed the candle on the bedside table and looked at Dusty, who had rolled over and was not looking at her. "Let it out, you grew up with him, he gave his life for you. You will destroy yourself if you don't let it out." Dusty made some muffled comment, and Granna gave his shoulder a brief hug. "Don't worry, life will continue." Dusty made another muffled comment, Granna closed her eyes for a second. "Dusty! If you are going to talk, for goodness sake make it legible, I cannot and will not hold a conversation with someone who is unintelligible." Dusty choked violently, then spun and gripped Granna tightly, the tears fell fast and silently, and not all were Dusty's.
Beth sat with Rolly, watching as the Dynnyrner launch maneuvered up to the small rocky jetty.
"Something is up Rolly." Rolly nodded silently, they continued to watch as Dusty and Kenneth descended from the launch. "We'd better go meet them." Rolly nodded again, she realized that Beth was worried by James' non-appearance. The last couple of weeks at MacUalraig had shown Rolly many things, and one of them was that Beth was more concerned for James then she let on. The two girls hurried down to the jetty.
"Dusty, Kenneth. What's up?"
"You're being pulled out. Fizz is found, we have orders to terminate the fish." Beth frowned for a second, then nodded. "Do you know what he's after?" Beth nodded.
"He's searching for the train-set. Fortunately MacUalraig has a lot of rooms." Dusty smiled.
"You can say that again. Do you and Rolly want to stay with the launch?" Beth glanced at Rolly, then shook her head.
"We'll come watch your backs." Dusty secured the boat and the group walked up to the house.
"Is Mr. Darcy in?" Kenneth gave Mrs. Hawkins a hug and shook hands with Hawkins.
"S-s-ure thing. he be in the radio room with a friend." Dusty nodded.
"We'll go find him then. Are there only him and his friend?" Hawkins nodded and Dusty and Kenneth swiftly mounted the stairs, Rolly and Beth followed a short distance behind, eventually guarding the passage at each end to the radio room. Beth could just hear the brief rumble of voices, then a gun barked, followed seconds later by a muffled explosion. Then there was a brief scuffle, before silence reigned once more, Beth glanced curiously at Kenneth as he came into the corridor.
"Dusty wants you in the room." Beth nodded and vanished into the room. Rolly walked over to Kenneth.
"What's happened?"
"You'll be told later." Kenneth was fairly curt, but he apologized for it immediately.
Beth entered the room, and glanced around it briefly. Two men lay in a shapeless mass on the floor, Dusty was leaning heavily against the wall, and the radio was a heap of blackened metal.
"What happened to you?"
"It's nothing." Dusty tried to ward Beth off, but did not have the strength.
"I never call getting shot in the shoulder nothing. Hold still while I bind this, then we can discuss these gentlemen on the floor." Beth quickly, and firmly bound up Dusty's wound, then turned her attention to the two men. "Smith and Belcher, I thought as much. Come, we're getting you back to Dynnyrner." Dusty didn't resist as Beth dragged him out of the room, and soon darkness over took him.
Jack shook his head in despair as he eyed the shambles.
"Why do you keep doing this Nick?"
"They were being impolite."
"But that is no excuse to blow up a meeting at the local pub." Nick stared unblinkingly and expressionlessly at Jack.
"People's opinions vary." Jack looked sour.
"You're damn right they do. What are we meant to do about this mess?"
"Walk away." Nick suited his words with actions, and Jack had to run to catch him.
Jack bit his finger nervously, the commander had summoned him a full five minutes ago, but he had not yet been bade to enter.
"Private Townsend." Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment, then entered the room. He was surprised at the number of occupants. There was Captain Edward Dressingham, the commander, and four men he did not recognize.
"Townsend, permit me to introduce General George Washington, he is head of the Darcy Corporation." Jack's face expressed his lack of comprehension. "Also Lieutenant Charles Bingley, Arnold Barnum, and" here the commander paused for a second. "Private Jackson." Jack's expression continued as a blank, these names meant nothing to him.
"Townsend?" Jack blinked, then nodded.
"Yes General." He saluted.
"Skip the formalities, I believe that yesterday you were a prime mover in the destruction of the local pub."
"Not really, sir. It was Nick, again."
"And who is Nick?" Jack glanced at the commander, then shrugged helplessly.
"He adopted me about two months ago, and since has wounded about half our battalion, blown all the walls off our mess, and shown proficiency with a shovel. He is firmly fixed in the belief that I am a corpse and that he is the Czar of Russia and that it is his duty to protect me from anything but the King's English."
"So this is the Nick who 'threw' a peppermint at Major MacNiell's car." Jack nodded uncomfortably. "Could you possibly bring Nick in?"
"No sir."
"Why?"
"I don't actually know where he is, sir." Washington frowned, then nodded.
"Okay. Dismissed." Jack walked hurriedly from the room, then relaxed quietly, Nick had been getting far to much attention from the upperworks of the army. Jack didn't like it one bit.
Chapter 50
Granna stood quietly at the door, listening to Beth's soft sobbing, she knew that she could not interrupt. A soft movement beside her drew Granna away from the door, she lit her candle, and observed that it was Rolly.
"What is it?" Rolly shivered briefly, then motioned to her room. Granna cast a hesitant glance at Beth's door, then followed.
"Sorry about that." Rolly hopped back into her bed.
"I wasn't going to disturb her. She is very like her brother." Rolly frowned for a second.
"How do you know that?"
"I knew Anne Darcy very well, Beth is a spitting image of her." Rolly blinked, then nodded.
"You do have a point. Do you think things will work out?"
"I can't say. Too many things hang in balance right now."
"Beth doesn't actually think that James is dead." Granna frowned quickly.
"Why is that?"
"I don't know. Beth does a lot of things from her feelings, she is rarely wrong." Granna looked expressionlessly at the wall. "How's Dusty tonight?"
"Improved, but his condition is still serious. It will remain serious until he regains consciousness. The doctor mutters about nerve damage in his right arm. But that doctor is also one of the most depressing doctors available." Rolly smiled faintly.
"He blames himself for James' death doesn't he." Granna realized that this was actually a statement, not a question, and nodded. "Damn." Granna blinked.
"Not very ladylike, but I do agree with you." Rolly chuckled.
"Sorry, I sort of forgot you were in the room. Has anything been heard of Fizz?" Granna shook her head.
"Apparently he's just vanished again. He pulled out of his place just before Washington arrived, apparently the private he attached himself to is now scouring the countryside for him."
Granna sat quietly, she had left Rolly, and heard that Beth had ceased crying, but once more, she could not sleep. She stirred restlessly, then dressing completely, she left the room and started a pilgrimage of the hallways. Rolly was sleeping peacefully now, as were the boys and most of the other people in the house. Dusty was stirring restlessly, but not fully conscious. Granna wondered what effect telling him that Fizz had vanished again would have on him. She doubted that the effect would be good. Granna headed quickly back to her room, there seemed no reason for why she couldn't sleep. The house was peaceful, no one seemed seriously upset, she hesitated momentarily before she started to change back into her nightclothes, and it was then that it happened.
"NO!" The yell rang through the house, Granna pulled her jumper on again as she ran through the house. The yell had come from Dusty's room, this meant it was either delirium, or something was wrong in his room. As Granna ran down the long passage the rest of the family joined her. Juliana was standing fearfully outside Dusty's room, Granna handed her over to Kenneth, then entered the room with Gramp on her heels. Dusty was on the floor, he had apparently fallen out of the bed, and blood was slowly seeping into his clothes where the bullet wound had opened up again. Granna quickly rebound the wound, while Gramp prowled around the room.
"Kenneth?" Kenneth appeared in the doorway. "You and Phillip are going to spend the rest of the night with Dusty. Wake the house if anything happens." Kenneth nodded, then entered the room, followed by Phillip. "All right, the rest of you back to bed."
"What caused him to yell like that?" Gramp grunted.
"I think it was only delirium." The group at the door slowly dispersed and Gramp walked slowly back to his bedchamber with Granna.
Rolly sat quietly at the foot of Beth's bed, in a place like Dynnyrner there was little peace and quiet unless you were in somebody's bedroom.
"What's up Beth?" Beth frowned momentarily.
"We have an offer from Granna."
"Darcy Corporation Navy?"
"Correct, with James gone, and Dusty out of commission they are a whole boat undermanned. They've been cutting things fine since the Normandy line got ambushed, apparently this has made the business infeasible." Rolly stared considerately at her fingers.
"So what's the job we've been offered?"
"The Normandy line."
"How long till we start work?"
"Thank you Rolly. We get three weeks of tuition from Jermyn and Phillip, then we're sent out on our own." Rolly nodded.
"Good. It's very nice here, but we've been doing nothing for to long." Beth smiled, and ran her fingers through her short hair.
"Never thought I'd get used to short hair, but now I wonder how I managed with long hair." Rolly started to chuckle, when Jermyn came hurtling into the room.
"Sorry not to knock, but Dusty's woken, and he sure has a story to tell. Granna's been on the radio for fifteen minutes already. Oh, are you accepting the Normandy route?" Beth nodded. "That's good. Phillip will take you out tomorrow to give you some tips on remaining afloat and alive." Rolly shivered as Jermyn scuttled out of the room again.
"Just what I needed to know. Come, let's see if there's anything we can do." Beth nodded and the two girls departed back into the general noise and life of Dynnyrner.
Chapter 51
"It's ridiculous." Dusty, was sitting up, now fully conscious and regaining strength with great rapidity. Rolly frowned darkly at the wall, then glanced at Beth. "Don't you agree Beth?"
"I will until I understand it, then I may reconsider the matter. Movement is relative."
"Well that's what this fellow says. By him, when you are walking, it is not you who is moving, it is the earth. Similarly in a car, if I understand the theory correctly, it is not the car that is moving, it is the road that is underneath. He explains it via time references."
"Time references?" Beth frowned.
"Well.....When you sit still, the whole world is moving at the same velocity as you are, it appears to be stationary, it is in your time of reference. But when you stand up, it temporarily drops out of you frame of reference."
"So if we move an arm..."
"What's it referenced to? If the time reference is your arm, then the world and the rest of your body is what is moving. If your frame of reference is your head, then it is your arm that moved."
"Back to your car. You say that when driving a car, by this theory it is not the car which is moving, but the road."
"Well when you sit in a car, you cannot feel it move. To your senses you are motionless and stationary, yet the scene around changes. Hence it must be that the scene and the road are moving, after all you can see them move."
"Then how do you explain those tortuous S-bends. You have to turn the steering wheel to negotiate them, or else you come off the road."
"Well, I never said that the road was moving in a straight line. Nor did I say that it was intelligent. The road moves where it wants to, a curve occurs when it is tired of moving in one direction." Beth started to laugh at this, and soon Rolly and Dusty joined in. "I'm serious about it, this is what this fellow reckons. He thinks that all movement is relevant to some other time frame."
"But that has serious whiskers on it. That's like saying, that movement is simply a matter of opinion."
"Well it is. I think that something moved, if that something is you. It is quite possibly your opinion is that it was not you who moved, but the world around you."
"That sounds like I've been hit on the head, or at least that's the only time when I've felt that the world has spun around."
"And yet to the person who hit you, only his arm moved, and you collapsed. To him the world remained in its usual stationary position." Rolly scratched her head, the idea was totally ridiculous and illogical, but she could find no way to prove it wrong, because everything was relative to something else.
"Does that also go for boats?" Dusty shrugged.
"I assume so, give a situation and we'll see if it can be put into a frame of reference."
"The boat moves through the water."
"Therefore our frame of reference is the water."
"And if it's the boat?"
"Then it's the water moving past the boat. The frame of reference is always the stationary object."
"So if my frame of reference is the boat, and I see another boat approaching, then it is the water and the other boat that are passing me?"
"Unless the 'other boat' is your frame of reference, in which case" they were at this point interrupted by Juliana.
"What are you talking about? Granna says that Dusty should rest."
"We're discussing frames of reference and relative movement." Juliana blinked, then rapidly retreated out of the room, shutting the door behind herself.
"You were saying Dusty?"
"I forget. Beth, what was I saying?"
"We were discussing the relative movements when your frame of reference was the other boat."
"Oh yes." Dusty settled his pillows and frowned for a moment. "If the 'other boat' is your frame of reference, then it is your boat and the water which are moving. And if the water is your frame of reference then both boats are moving through the water."
"So by that, when we had that bit of fun with the two destroyers, to destroyer1, we, the water and destroyer2 were moving, while he was stationary. And vice versa for all the other options for the frames of reference."
"Does this not mean then that if the frame of reference was the air that all ships and water would appear to be moving?"
"I assume so. I am not a physicist."
"This means that if I were to back a car into a lamp post, I could claim that I did not hit the lamppost." Rolly frowned.
"But that doesn't explain how your car got dented and the lamppost got bent."
"Well, by Dusty's theories. One could claim that the lamppost hit me."
"That's good. Does the lamppost just grow an arm and hit you, or does it use some other method?" Beth looked with interest at Dusty. What would his answer be to that.
"It's back to the frame of reference, if you consider yourself to be stationary, then obviously the lamppost has to be moving." Rolly shook her head.
"This is totally daft and illogical, it can be neither proved nor disproved, it is totally a matter of opinion."
Juliana found Granna downstairs.
"They claim to be discussing relative movement. It makes absolutely no sense." Granna laughed at Juliana's annoyance.
"That's Dusty for you. He found the article a couple of year's back. I've discussed it with him a few times, the discussions inevitably ends in laughter or a fight."
"Well it's unlikely they will fight. But Dusty is supposed to be resting." Granna looked around the room.
"I can't see him, and as long as he is in bed I don't mind what he does." Juliana shook her head as she walked out of the room. She doubted she would ever understand these Fitzwillaims, and she knew she would never understand that total lack of emotion shown by Dusty and Granna.
Jack sat on the style in the corner of the hayfield, watching as the harvesters bundled the hay around the field. He had been searching the line for three weeks now, trying to find Nick. Jack didn't really know why he was taking this trouble to find the man, but for some reason he felt compelled to find the man. Jack had bought more tankards of beer than he cared to remember in his efforts, he had drunk more than he cared to remember, but the result was always the same, 'Aye there was a barmy bloke through here just the other day.' It had taken Jack less than a day to realize that 'just the other day' stood for sometime in the last six months. With a sigh Jack swung his legs up on top of the style and started to drop to the other side. But he fell into darkness before he hit the ground, Jack's last conscious thought was that he had been incredibly lax while walking and asking questions in war territory.
Chapter 52
Rolly was sitting quietly next to the new radio on the Normandy when it spluttered into life.
"Washington to all Darcy Corporation...Washington to all Darcy Corporation. We have an emergency, Private Jack Townsend, the last man who had contact with Fizz has vanished, a description of him will come on the circular reports, keep your eyes open and report the moment he is found." The radio went dead and Rolly glanced up the hatchway to where Beth was sitting by the wheel.
"Looks like being associated with Fizz is dangerous work."
"Why is that?"
"Private Jack has vanished."
"Blast. Whoa, get up Rolly, looks like we have a visitor." Rolly quickly locked down the radio before she scrambled to join Beth on deck. The visitor was a small coastal patrol craft with British insignia stamped on it. The boat slowly pulled along side.
"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The skipper was a short dark man, with a heavy face.
"Very well thank you." Beth cut the engine back, to all external observers it would appear that she had cut the engine all together.
"Any reason for being in these waters?"
"Fishing." Beth indicated their hold, which had a small supply of fish packed in salt.
"Your papers." Rolly handed them over, the man quickly shuffled through them. "The fishing been good?"
"Not really, we're returning tonight." Then man nodded, then returned their papers.
"Well I hope that the weather holds for you." The engine on the coastal patrol boat opened up and the Normandy was soon left behind. Rolly sat down next to the wheel.
"My Beth, the situation does not look good."
"It certainly looks interesting, pull in the lines, that boat is watching us." Rolly shuffled over to the side and slowly started pulling in the trawling line. A muffled explosion ceased that activity.
"Beth, I think there are some mines around here."
"Really Rolly. I told you this morning that we were mine trawling not fish trawling." Rolly bit back a giggle. Beth had said nothing of the sort, and by all appearances, Beth was actually planning to get out of there as fast as she could. "Get to the bow, we'll go slowly but keep your eyes peeled."
Jack could here loud bell's ringing in the distance, slowly he approached them, the noise became deafening. Suddenly Jack realized that the bells were in fact ringing in his head, he gingerly shook it, but as it showed signs of remaining attached he shook it again, slightly more vigorously. Slowly the ringing died away, Jack became aware of sitting on what felt like a dirt floor. His hands were bound behind his back, and his head still ached abominably, he shifted uncomfortably, but it did little to make him feel more comfortable.
"Hallo? You awake at last?" The voice was fairly quiet and well educated, it had an accent that Jack found familiar, but he could not place it.
"Yes, and my head aches abominably."
"Not very surprising." The voice laughed gently in sympathy. "I saw them bring you in, you've a lump of generous proportions on the back of your head. You must have a skull of iron to be awake now." Jack moaned softly.
"Where am I?"
"I don't actually know. I wasn't conscious for two days after I arrived. Memory's still a whisker foggy." Jack nodded cautiously. His head was starting to feel like it might possibly be attached to his torso.
"I think I'll try to go back to sleep, my head continues to ache." Jack last memory was of a kindly chuckle.
Washington scowled darkly at the wall, then glanced across at Dressingham and Jackson.
"That would happen, James gone, Fizz gone, that damn private gone, and now Jermyn is believed to have been shot out of the water in Italy. This is totally ridiculous. Dressingham, get to Italy tomorrow. I'd send Dusty but that stupid fool is nailed in bed. Find out what you can, and you are ordered to have nothing occur to you." Dressingham nodded and started to leave the room. "Oh, you're taking that radioman....Bingley with you. Don't lose him either." Dressingham smiled as he vanished out the door. Admittedly the situation was grave, but he just couldn't help but laugh when he was given such ludicrous orders. Bingley was found at the local inn, discussing wines with the barkeeper. The barkeeper looked incredibly bored, and Dressingham couldn't feel anything but sympathy. Admittedly he did not know Bingley, but the few times they'd met, he'd been struck by the man's apparent stupidity, he actually couldn't understand why the man was tolerated.
"Bingley." Bingley stood up, and having paid for the food and drink, followed Dressingham out of the room. "We're going to Italy, we're expected to arrive by tomorrow."
"We going by the Staubthal or that other way?"
"Staubthal." Dressingham hurried them through the clothing and identification processes and soon the two men were driving a large car at full speed for the Italian frontier.
"It's Jermyn isn't it?" Dressingham stared at Bingley.
"Why do you ask?"
"I can think of no other reason for why we're being sent on an emergency mission to the Med." Dressingham grunted doubtfully. He still had his reservations about Bingley, however he would not have them for long, though he did not know it, the Italian frontier had closed. Dressingham was shortly going to owe his life to that 'fool' Bingley and his ability as a mountaineer.
Chapter 53
Jack slowly woke to the sound of someone softly whistling a mournful tune. It was soft and high pitched, Jack could feel the sadness and loneliness of the tune piercing into his mind. But at the same time it was familiar, slowly his memory sprang into action, it was a tune he had actually heard very frequently for a period of two months, approximately a month ago was the last time he had heard.
"Nick?" The whistling ceased momentarily.
"No. James." The whistling resumed, leaving Jack to ponder the question. "You've heard that tune before?" The whistler had finished his whistling.
"For a bit, a month back. The fellow was always whistling it, it drove the mess mad."
"The man you call Nick?"
"Yes. Why do you know it?" There was a slight noise.
"I've heard it a lot myself. What's your name?"
"Jack." Dead silence filled the room for several seconds.
"Did you say Jack?"
"Yes." Jack had a cold feeling in his stomach.
"Where's Nick?"
"I don't know. He vanished nearly a month ago. How long have you been here?"
"Damn, and about a month and a half, to two months. It's a bit hard to keep track of the days down here."
"How did you get caught?"
"I got cornered with a friend. I pitched a bulls-eye at them, and while they fought over it, my friend escaped."
"Are the bulls-eyes just a bit stronger than peppermints?"
"Peppermints with a knockout attachment."
"Oh."
Dressingham blinked and squinted as the snow-filled wind tore passed his face.
"Bingley, what do we do now?"
"Sit still. This'll be over in an hour."
"An hour?!?!" Dressingham's voice sounded horrified. "We can't stay here for an hour, we'll freeze to death."
"And if we leave it's quite likely that we'll fall to our death. Now sit down and drink this." Dressingham sat down, and felt a thick, warm mug thrust into his hands.
"What is it?"
"Chocolate and water. Taste's like chicken." Dressingham took a cautious sip, and found that it was foul.
"You expect me to drink this stuff?"
"The only other option in a piece of chocolate that's as soft as plate metal. and a mug of boiling water." Dressingham took another cautious sip, and stared out at the swirling snowflakes. "And don't watch the snow. You're bad enough without becoming snow mad." Dressingham felt offended an relapsed into total silence, ignoring Bingley. He did not realize it, but Bingley had been the group leader ever since they had found that the Italian frontier was closed. Dressingham had no idea where they were, but he was reluctant to relinquish control to a man he considered a fool. Bingley mentally cursed being saddled with such a pompous ass. The man was not a fool, but he lived by appearances and for fairly obvious reasons Captain Edward Dressingham was reluctant to relinquish control to Lieutenant Charles Bingley. The fact that Bingley was ten years older, and had been mountain climbing since before he could remember had nothing to do with it. With a sigh Bingley swallowed the rest of his chocolate water, it brought back memories being up here in this weather, and not all were pleasant. Bingley glanced sharply at the weather, then stood up.
"Come on, it's easing." Dressingham stood up sullenly, but did little to help.
Washington picked up the communiqué from Italy, he had been afraid this would happen, which is why he had sent Bingley with Dressingham. It was a report of the closure of the Italian frontier. Washington then walked over to the map, inspecting it closely.
"Bingley will go by the Schwartzesteinthor." Washington rubbed his nose and turned on the radio. The radio's news report made little impact, until the weather came.
"The weather has storms through the Pyrenees and the Italian border, there is heavy cloud cover over the front. Paris and Calais are expected to have it clear though." As the broadcast finished Washington snapped off the radio.
"Jackson!" Private came sprinting into the room, a chicken drumstick in his hand. "Tell ops I want the present weather chart for the Italian frontier. Also get on the radio to Phelps, tell him to be on the watch for two men coming over the Schwartzesteinthor. Get Dusty on the radio, tell him that the minute he's fit he's to come to France by the Normandy run. Also tell Granna that the navy needs to be put into a state of emergency. Find out what Mac has to say about the Austrian frontier, then get Nickolai from the Russian frontier. Russia needs to do something and soon." Jackson vanished out of the room, and Washington snapped his radio on again.
"Washington calling Dressing ham and meat.......Washington calling Dressing ham and meat..... Washington calling Dress"
"Dressing ham and meat. What is it, Sir?"
"Could I speak to Bingley?"
"Right." Washington could hear the wind howling over the radio, the sound made him feel very cold.
"Bingley here."
"What's up?"
"The frontier was closed, we've just hit the ice slope of the Schwartzesteinthor. Could you have Phelps meet us at the Inn at the foot?"
"Sure. Put Dressingham back on."
"Dressingham."
"Edward, a word in your ear. Until you meet Phelps, Bingley is your superior. You obey him as you would obey me or Colonel Fitzwilliam."
"But, sir!" Washington could hear the protest in Dressingham's voice.
"Edward. Your life, Jermyn's life, and probably half the Darcy Corporation's life depend on the two of you getting over. Bingley is the most experienced climber in the allied army, he was climbing before you were out of your cradle. And I'll be damned if I have you risk his life, your life and the life of half this corporation for your feelings when it comes to rank superiority, if necessary I will drop your rank to that of private."
"Very good, sir."
"The only other person you'd have got would have been Bingley's sister. Be thankful that it is a man you are taking your orders from." Dressingham muttered something. Then Bingley came back on the radio.
"I don't know what you're talking about General George, but we must get moving, I want to be past this color before this storm re-intensifies and before dark falls."
"Contact me when you meet up with Phelps."
"Right." The radio buzzed no signal and Washington snapped the radio off, before walking into the other room.
Chapter 54
Private Jackson sat fiddling morosely with the radio, he had an intense dislike of his job when things went wrong. He'd had only a couple of hours sleep in the last week or so, but he had to be thankful he wasn't tied up in one of the sabotage teams. He'd seen them return after a bad trip, particularly Fizz's group, looking like walking corpses. He remembered a time when Dusty had come running into the room, only to fall fast asleep as soon as he sat down. They'd been unable to wake him for a day and a half, by which time the rest of the team had arrived and similarly collapsed into sleep. Jackson rubbed his eyes, then looked up as Washington came running into the room.
"You deal with those radio calls?" Jackson nodded.
"Dusty is coming immediately. Granna has already issued the alert. Phelps has left for the Inn. Nikolai says that Russia has got through, and Mac says that all is quiet on the Austrian frontier." Washington nodded, then pushed a piece of hair out of his face.
"That's good. Go to bed for the night Jackson. You need to remain alive." Jackson nodded his thanks and hurried out of the room, leaving Washington restlessly pace the room for the night.
Captain Edward Dressingham looked nervously at the long ice slope that lay at his feet.
"How do we get down this? Glissade?" Bingley looked in horrified astonishment at Edward.
"You can, but I do not advise it. That's sixty metres of ice. Here, put this on." Bingley handed a complex harness affair to Edward, and hurriedly donned one himself. "Hurry up man. We don't have all day. I want to be off this ice before dark."
"But that's not for another five hours yet."
"You obviously haven't ice climbed before." Bingley started carefully buckling Edward into his harness. "Now remember, if you feel your grip start to slip, yell." Edward watched in amazement as Bingley swung himself over the ice, his axe biting deep into the ice. With his other ax Bingley started hollowing out a step. Five minutes later Edward saw him sink his second ice into the ax, then jerk the first ax free. Edward watched in astonishment for forty minutes, then Bingley stuck an irate head back over the ice lip.
"What in hell are you doing standing here?"
"I can't cut ice steps."
"What in hell do you think I'm cutting them for, exercise?" Bingley vanished again, and Edward followed, he found the steps just deep enough to get a grip in, and evenly spaced, he hastily followed Bingley down, until another irate yell stopped him. Looking down, he realised that he had been about to step on Bingley who was cutting another step. "Go back two steps, you'll take me out if you fall from that position." Edward cast a brief glance beyond Bingley, his head swam at the sight of the long sheet of ice, clouds and snow flakes made the view unreal and magical. He then quickly climbed up the two steps. Ten minutes later he felt a slight tug on his rope, he cast a cautious look down. Bingly indicated that he was to descend two steps. Edward descended the steps and went back to clinging, until a tug ten minutes later told him to descend again, so the process slowly continued. Soon Edwards arms felt like they were slowly being submerged in boiling water, he cautiously eased more weight onto his legs, but he soon found that to be a mistake. tug, descend......tug, descend..... tug, descend......tug, descend. Edward felt great lassitude overtake him.
"HEY!!!!" Bingley's yell jolted him back and he immediately descended, but soon found he could get no further. "Where across, take a break." Edward collapsed into the snow, he could just make out Bingley's figure as he busied himself with something or other. "Here." Edward's hands could feel nothing, but he automatically raised the mug to his mouth. This time the chocolate water tasted and felt marvelous. Edward finished it, and stood up cautiously, he could feel his cramped and strained muscles falling back into place, but he still felt incredibly weary. "Come on, not much further to go." Edward saw Bingley move off and followed in a daze. What felt like an eternity later, Bingley halted again and he was drinking more chocolate water. Then off it was again, Edward felt considerably revived by a spell of glissading down a sheet of snow, and he was able to admire Bingley's skill with the ax which prevented them from taking a short cut to the valley floor. Then it was back to trudging through the snow, with the wind stinging his face.
"Here we are." Bingley's remark failed to register, Edward kept walking. "HEY! I SAID THAT WE'RE HERE." Edward stopped and looked at Bingley, who was wrestling with a door. Suddenly it swung open, and a man came out.
"Good lord!" It was Phelps, and Edward knew no more.
Jack looked up as a light entered the room. He could not see the man who carried it, but he had a pretty good idea of the man's height. The light flashed into his eyes, and he blinked and ducked his head.
"So your awake. Good. Jaques, bring in the food. Also the doctor, this guy's no good if his head is smashed." There was a bunch of noise and a few scuffles. then a general light came on. Jack saw that the floor was indeed dirt. The walls were dirt also. Jack then glanced at the occupants of the room. There was a tall man, with thinning grey hair, his expression was sour, and he held a torch in his hand. There was a thin stooped Frenchman who perpetually rubbed his boney hands together, there was a rotund man who spent a few seconds in a painful inspection of the back of Jack's head.
"It's not cracked." The rotund man departed immediately. The only other occupant was a thin man with a mop of dark hair. His face was obscured by mud and blood, but his eyes sparkled and gleamed with laughter. Jack felt his arms released as a small plastic bowl was dumped in his lap. Jack hungrily ate the stew it contained, as did his companion. The other man then discussed the use of a bowl of water, and seconds later Jack found his face being roughly scrubbed, the other man quickly did his own face, then the other two men and the light departed. Jack blinked as the darkness fell again. His companion gave a contented sigh.
"So nice to have a clean face again. Mud and blood do not improve my beauty." Jack considered the matter for a minute.
"I doubt they improve anyone's beauty." James responded with some soft laughter.
"You remind me of my uncle. He was always practical in his responses, but I rarely saw him rattled."
"Whose your uncle?"
"Oh, he's Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."
"I know him, well, I've met him." Jack temporised.
"When?" Jack was startled by the anxiety in James' voice.
"At the barracks, about a week before Nick blew up the local inn and disappeared. He got tangled up in fight. He called our tough boy a swine or something."
"That's my uncle." The laughter was back in James' voice.
Chapter 55
Washington sat restlessly next to the radio. It had been a day three days since Dressingham and Bingley had departed, and ten hours since he had spoken to them at the top of the ice slope. He did not know when they would reach the inn, but he hoped that it would be soon. Washington stood up and started to pace restlessly again, he didn't like to admit it, but a lot hung on those two men. The least was his communication line into Italy, the most was the continuation of the Darcy Corporation. With James and Fizz missing, and Dusty adamant, that only left Jermyn, and Miss Elizabeth Darcy, and Washington was reluctant to get a woman who had been under Grantley. In fact he was reluctant to have anything to do with anyone who had been under Grantley. Washington got himself a cup of coffee, and came back to find the radio spitting excitedly.
"Washington. Who is it?"
"Phelps and fur."
"What?"
"They just arrived."
"Can I speak to them?"
"Ummm, no. They're asleep." Washington sighed.
"Have them call me when they wake."
"Very good, sir. Anything else?"
"No."
"Over and out." Washington turned the radio off and collapsed into a nearby chair, falling asleep immediately.
Jack blinked as the light once again entered the room. It flashed briefly into his eyes, then into James', then the carrier started to chuckle, it was low pitched, and decidedly pleasant.
"Well, well. What a nice surprise. Corpse and Jimms all nicely trussed like turkey birds."
"Nick."
"Fizz." The two men spoke simultaneously.
"No, just a ghost. You may be unwilling to depart with me. But you're departing anyway. It will not do my credit any good if you remain here." Jack was puzzled by a scraping noise that was behind him. At the same time his mind made the connection as to why James' accent was familiar.
"I hear scrapping behind me."
"So that's where he's coming through. Corpse, dear chap, I firmly suggest that you move."
"How can I? I'm tied up."
"That is a complication." Jack felt strong hands grab him and yank him away. Seconds later there were two deafening explosions. Jack felt himself grabbed and swung over a shoulder and the shoulder move off. A few times his face grazed against dirt, but otherwise he could feel little. Then suddenly they came up into fresh air. Jack was dropped to the ground, and his bonds were cut.
"Can you stand?" Once again there was that accent.
"Yes." Jack demonstrated by standing up.
"Dusty?" The call was soft.
"Yes." What ever the instructions were that Dusty received, Jack could not understand them. "Okay, let's move. We have very little time to spare." The man Dusty took a firm grip on Jack's shoulder and they started to run swiftly, but Jack was soon blown. Being tied up for most of a week, he found, played havoc with your muscles and wind. As Jack stumbled again, he heard Dusty swear. "Can you continue, or is it getting worse?" Jack hesitated momentarily and stretched his legs.
"I think I can continue. I think that the problem is fixing itself up. Though I think I would have better luck if we went a bit slower."
"Right." Dusty and Jack continued again, but the pace was hardly slowed at all. But Jack could feel his muscles slowly easing out of their cramps and twists, and slowly the pain receded.
James had watched as Dusty and Jack vanished into the darkness.
"What is it Fizz?"
"We need to clean this place up. I would have sent you with Jack, except that Dusty's wound reopened when he was carrying Jack. How many people did you see?"
"Three. One was a doctor, but I'm pretty sure that he was just a fellow prisoner."
"Right. Dusty and I got a stooped and boney Frenchman called Jacques, and a greying man with a sour expression."
"There the two men I saw. The doctor was a rotund man with almost no hair and an expressionless face."
"Good." James followed Fizz back into the network of rooms, many of which were missing walls. "Barnum and Ashington came through behind us. They appear to have done a thorough job." It took another half an hour to clean up everything, but there were no more men, and all those that were seen were dead. James sat massaging his aching muscles when they returned to the surface.
"Now what happens?"
"We get away from here for starters." James stood up and followed Fizz away into the darkness.
"Where are we Fizz?"
"About ten miles behind the British front, near radio 52." James nodded. Fizz kept a driving pace for most of fifteen minutes, before calling another halt. James collapsed and started rubbing his muscles again.
"This is not good. How long was I missing for?"
"Two months three days. Your legs being troublesome?"
"Hellish."
"Then we'll wait 'til they start behaving."
"What happens to me now?"
"You return to England."
"Which route, or plane."
"You'll go by the Normandy route."
"It's running again?"
"We had to, High Command is about to start another offensive. Which ever way it goes, it will probably end the war."
"Oh."
"You'll remain with Normandy. The crew we have on it is not experienced."
"Right." James moved off into the darkness, and Fizz sat down on a fallen log. Waiting.
Chapter 56
There was a soft rustle, and a second man came into the clearing.
"Fizz?"
"Over here Jermyn. No hitches?"
"No. You get Jack out?"
"Yes. I also got James out."
"James?!?!"
"Yes, apparently Dusty fouled up his bomb combinations. He reported that James used a 'Gobstopper', but apparently it was only one of the improved 'Bullseye's'." The silence that followed was almost shattering.
"That's good to hear. We pulled out thirteen people and a rotund little doctor with no hair. We handed them over to the official intelligence service to check up."
"Good. I sent James to help the Normandy. You'd better get back to Italy, and play the part of a shipwrecked sailor. And don't go by the Schwarzesteinthor. Bingley and Dressingham just went through there to look for you."
"Why didn't you tell Washington what was happening?"
"Washington has a lot of people in his offices. I needed to be sure there would be no leaks." Jermyn grunted. "Oh well, let's get out of here."
"You realise what you've done sending James to the Normandy?"
"You referring to Beth being on it? Rolly will act as Chaperone."
"How did you know about that?"
"I had a talk with James just after we lost the first 'Denmark'. That was one of the main reasons why I risked so much to get Beth out of Sanhuzar."
"Oh. Well, I'd better get moving."
"I'll accompany you over the frontier, but first we need to stop by Washington's office. I need to stop his confounded emergency alerts, though Jack will probably settle a lot of his fears." The two men moved quickly moved off into the darkness, and silence fell on the clearing.
Rolly sat quietly on the deck, Beth was sleeping below deck, when the radio spluttered into muted life.
"Washington calling Normandy....Washington calling Normandy." Rolly flicked the switch over to transmit.
"Rolly and Tumble. What's up?"
"You've got a pickup who should appear in the next few hours."
"What are we meant to do with him?"
"He's to remain on the Normandy. He's been on the other boats."
"Right, usual signal?"
"No. Left'ens AB." Rolly hesitated momentarily.
"Got it. Will do, we'll keep our eyes open."
"Washington, out." The radio buzzed 'no signal' and Rolly switched it off. Rolly was undecided as to whether she should wake Beth now or later. Rolly shook her head, then stepped down into the cabin to shake Beth.
"Beth!" Rolly shook Beth again. "Come on Beth, wake up before I throw you over the side."
"I'm very tempted to see you try." Beth rubbed her head as she swung her feet out of the bunk and shoved them into the slip on shoes, before standing up. "What's up?"
"We have a pickup arriving in the next few hours. We're to keep him, he's apparently been on other ships."
"That'll be nice, not such long solitary watches. I'm getting good at baiting fish hooks and identifying ships before they are fully over the horizon." Beth yawned and stretched as she reached the deck and the fresh salt breeze bit into her face, waking her up thoroughly. They weighed the anchor, and slowly drifted shorewards. Beth was abstractly watching the shore when she saw the light flicker, without turning her head she called to Rolly.
"What did Washington say the code would be?"
"Left'ens AB."
"He's waiting for us."
"Right." Beth heard the faint clunk as the boat pushed off, and she lowered the anchor terminating the boat's slow drift. Beth then returned to her inspection of the moonlit water. She could see the rowboat approaching the shore. It grounded, and a small figure detached itself from the shadows. There was a brief pause, then the boat pushed off again. The faces were blurred in the moonlight, but Beth heard Rolly directly after the clunk of the boat's return.
"Get aboard, I've got to deal with this tank." Beth eyed the figure as it boarded the boat, then flicked her torch onto his face. The torch then clattered to the deck.
"James?!?!" Beth's voice was doubting.
"Yes." The next thing Beth was aware of was that he had his arms around her, and she was crying.
"They said you had died." James' arms tightened.
"I know. Dusty had not used the modified bulleyes, he thought it was a gobstopper." Beth couldn't help but chuckle.
"I see you found her." Beth turned her face out from James' shoulder.
"Oh, sorry Rolly. Did you want anything?"
"Only to get out of here." Beth quickly disengaged herself from James. Everything was back to business. As Beth got the engine going Rolly was talking to James in the wheel house.
"Has Dynnyrner been informed?"
"They should have been. Dusty was returning immediately to Washington's headquarters with Private Jack Townsend. But I'll communicate when you next report in." Rolly glanced at her watch.
"That's in two hours." As the engine chugged into life Rolly went forward to pull up the anchor. She returned to find Beth blinking sleepily in the companionway. "Into bed Beth. You're needed for watch tomorrow." Beth nodded and vanished below deck, as Rolly returned to the wheel, and James. "We drop the anchor just out of sight of the shore, along with a slow trawling line." James nodded.
"Do you have any food?" Rolly raised her eyebrows.
"You asked that of the boat which is stocked by Granna?" Rolly vanished, and seconds later returned with a plate piled high and a flask of Brandy.
Chapter 57
Granna sat up in bed, momentarily disoriented by the soft wailing of the radio caller. Then she remembered that Rolly was meant to be reporting. She hastily pulled on a jumper and shoes, before shuffling quickly to the radio room.
"Dynnyrner receiving. Who is it?"
"Rolly and Tumble."
"No problems?"
"No. We have a pickup who wants to speak to you."
"Put him on." Granna heard a slight scuffle then,
"Granna? James and bread here."
"James?!?!?!?!?"
"Why does everyone behave so doubtingly. Rolly didn't believe it was me, neither did Beth, and now you don't."
"Give me a sec James. I need to get the family in."
"So Washington didn't contact you?"
"Only in a rather vague manner. Apparently they have some troubles on the mainland."
"Right." Granna hurried out of the room, and soon returned with the entire family, but James Jr. and little Harry were the first to arrive.
"Uncle James?"
"That's right James Jr." The noise was incredible, even to James, Rolly and Beth at the other end of the radio, apparently Juliana was having hysterics. But the connection soon ended.
"Well, we'll be in in two months. Fizz ordered I help with the 'Normandy'."
"Right. See you in two months."
"Normandy out." Granna shuffled back to bed, but not to sleep.
Edward blinked his eyes, and eyed the heavy rafted ceiling in bemusement. Where was he? Then slowly it came back. The blowing wind, the protesting muscles and the exhaustion and pain.
"Looks like his waking up?" Edward rolled a bleary eye in the direction of the speaker. He could see Bingley consuming a plate full of food, while across from him sat Phelps. Edward gingerly sat up, his head swam for a moment, and Edward was very tempted to lie down again.
"Here, drink this." Edward gingerly sniffed the mug he was handed, but it was only spiced wine, and he drank it quickly. Then Bingley came over and gave him a hand up. Edward's muscles screamed protestingly at every movement, but Edward was feeling hungry now, and it did not take long till he was voraciously consuming food at the table.
"How long have I been asleep for?" Edward pushed his empty plate away and sighed in contentment. Bingley frowned.
"About a day isn't it Phelps." Phelps nodded. Edward rubbed his head as the sleep slowly drained from him.
"Has Washington been contacted. We're now two days behind schedule."
"Yes, Bingley got him when he woke."
"Washington say anything?"
"Only that he was damned glad that we were alive. He wants us to move as quickly as possible. Apparently they found a large line that's being cleared up. That combined with this offensive from the High Command is apparently making life hectic over there." Edward nodded, and stood up to stretch, grimacing with every move. "Don't feel bad. I was eighteen before my father took me near that slope. We went in summer, I'd been climbing for years and I was stiff and sore for ages afterwards. You did damned well for a beginner." Edward flushed, then grimaced again as his muscles vocalised further complaint.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, he had been chatting with Nick a minute ago, but when General George Washington entered Nick had vanished. Not literally, but figuratively. Jack couldn't connect this silent, expressionless, and serious man with the foolish, childish, and casually violent Nick. In fact, if he hadn't seen it occur, he would have been almost ready to swear that they were different men. The man was Nick no longer, he was Fizz. The man, someone had patiently explained to Jack, who was the active head of the Darcy Corporation, a company Jack had never heard of. Jack watched quietly as maps, papers and pens literally flew around the room, yet there appeared to be some form of order in this chaos, because time was never wasted hunting for something. The discussion that was being held sounded like gibberish to Jack, but he listened anyway.
"Jermyn found." Jack wondered at the importance of a German being found, they were all over the place. "'Normandy' is off Calais." Jack wondered how Normandy got to Calais, as far as he knew, the country had formerly been substantially north of Calais.
"To far south, the need to be at 149,291." Washington scribbled something on a small memo pad.
"Phelps is at Schwarzesteinthor. Mac is near Breque. Nikolai reports that the Russians are through."
"About time."
"Fitzwilliam says that there's trouble in Palestine, but he doesn't expect it to remain much longer."
"I thought Schreider was headed over there. Tell Fitzwilliam to be careful."
"Denmark has been delayed, something about damage, they had a bad connection."
"The fools must have grounded at those rocks again. First opportunity get James, Beth and Rolly onto that route. Smith and Anton can deal with Normandy." Jack assumed that 'Normandy' and 'Denmark' were referring to something other than the countries, but he had no idea what.
"Granna reports that Smirth and Belcher were dealt with by Dusty."
"Already marked that. No more from Anne at Rosings?"
"No. It is suspected that she was nailed."
"Damn. Anything from Bingley and Edward?"
"They return tomorrow. Jermyn is taking Tunisia and Aegean back to Dynnyrner for servicing." Jack nodded, so Jermyn was a man.
"Good." Fizz scribbled for a minute on a map before discarding it.
"Two more regiments have pulled out of the Belgian line. Ratcheson reports two more squadrons at 249, Mac reports that paratroopers are in the region of Breque, but they are only training. Dawson and Phillip are taking 'Turkey' through to the Black Sea." Fizz was scribbling wildly with both hands on separate maps. Washington was also scribbling away.
Chapter 58
They had been driving wildly, trying to avoid a German gun boat, when a British destroyer heaved over the horizon and open fire of them as well. Never mind the fact that there was a German gun boat there as well. Eventually they had just opened the engine right up and taken off, only to lose Rolly over the side. Seconds of wild maneuvering saw Rolly safely back on board and the Normandy driving wildly to avoid a large supply of torpedoes and machine-gun fire. Eventually things had got quieter and James glanced back to the sight of the destroyer and the gunboat exchanging fire at close range, the gunboat was getting the worst of the exchange. James had then cut the engine to watch, until the gunboat went under and the destroyer came after the 'Normandy' again. This had James diving for the radio, and soon the airwaves were melting between the 'Normandy' and the British destroyer.
"Fishing boat's are not permitted in this region." came the destroyer commander's stiff tones.
"Oh, and German gunboats are? I like the security of this place. WE ARE NOT A FISHING BOAT!"
"That is irrelevant, you are not permitted in these waters."
"Who are you?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just answer me. Who are you?"
"Captain Wilkins."
"Well Captain Wilkins, this is COMMANDER FITZWILLIAM telling you to bugger off and leave us alone before we tip you into the hottest pot of water you've been in in your life." The response to this was a space of dead silence.
"Your pardon sir. But I have strict instructions to sink any boat found in this region."
"And who gave those orders?"
"That is none of your business." At this point Beth stuck her head into the cabin.
"James, they're approaching. Do we do anything?" James muted the radio.
"Put us just on, with someone near the throttle." Beth nodded and her head vanished. James removed the mute from the radio. "Well allow me to inform you that you are dirty swine to continue approaching when we are obviously in discussion with you." There was another moment of silence, then Captain Wilkins came back on air.
"Look sir, I am really sorry, but I have my orders."
"What is the rank of the person who gave them?" There was another slight hesitation.
"I'm afraid I cannot release that information sir." James kicked the boat in frustration, he hated naval red tape, it was one reason why he had not joined the navy.
"Okay, standby, I'm just going to make a brief call to my superiors, and if you come within firing range we'll have this boat drawing circles around you till your head spins." James put the mute on and stepped out onto deck. The destroyer was hanging just out of firing range. "Keep us here Beth. I've got to get through to Granna." Beth and Rolly nodded and James vanished below deck again.
"Dynnyrner, who is it."
"James and bread, could I speak to Granna?"
"Right ho, I'll get her. You don't sound to happy Jimms boy."
"We have a stinking destroyer who is trying to blow us out of the water. We're rather lucky to still have our radio intact."
"Which side?"
"British. Germans wouldn't wait politely while I was rude to them and then went to converse with my superiors."
"You have a point. Here's Granna."
"Granna Apples. What is it James?"
"British destroyer Avon is trying to sink us. We're at point 290,360. What's so important?" There was a longish pause, before Granna came back on air.
"It has a rather nice view of the new sub base."
"So that's why they're so touchy. Can we pull any stunts to make them leave us alone? We have a pickup in four hours."
"Well I'm not official navy. You'll have to try General George."
"Right. Normandy out." James flicked his radio off, and came up for another look as he let the radio cool. The destroyer was still hanging just out of reach, Rolly was sitting next to the engine throttle, while Beth was giving a very good impression of a bored fisherman.
"Nothing from Granna?"
"No, we'll try Washington in a minute. But first I need to persuade that Captain not to try to radio headquarters." James vanished below and switched the mute off the second little radio, which had been chittering softly since James had connected with Granna. James listened for a minute before butting in.
Chapter 59
"Look Rear Admiral, could you just countermand your orders in respect to this particular boat?"
"Who in hell are you?"
"Commander Fitzwilliam."
"Which Commander, there are five of you."
"James, sir."
"Well I'm sorry Commander James, but I cannot countermand that order. And while I'm talking to you and ignoring Wilkins, What in hell are you doing on this air wave."
"Listening." James switched the mute back on and switched on the other radio. "Normandy calling Washington....Normandy calling Washington."
"Washington's out. Who is it?"
"James and Bread."
"Fizz and Bubble. What's up?"
"We have British Destroyer Avon trying to sink us and the whole of the British Navy determined not to let us do our pickup because of a subnest." James dropped into the Gaelic of MacUalraig.
"Hmmm. What airwaves?"
"Rear Admiral Thomlin on 529 and Captain Wilkins on 226."
"Right. Listen in if you want, you'll be left in peace." James spun the dials again and swung both mutes on. Then it came.
"British destroyer Avon, your attention please."
"British Destroyer Avon. Who is it?"
"This is the Darcy Corporation. You are to leave the boat you are presently watching alone."
"Your rank?" James could hear rear admiral Thomlin bubbling in the background.
"That is irrelevant."
"This is Rear Admiral Thomlin. I demand you produce your right to countermand orders."
"This, Rear Admiral Mark Thomlin, is the Darcy Corporation." James listened in slight amusement to the dead silence that followed this statement.
"That gives you no rights in the orders issued by the navy in the context of fishing boats."
"Well perhaps General Fitzwilliam Darcy will persuade you that I have quite a few rights when it comes to shooting up my men and interfering with their work." There was more dead silence, then there was suddenly some loud crackles.
"You there Fizz? Jack just reported in. Something up?"
"Only Rear Admiral Mark Thomlin and Captain Arnold Wilkins trying to sink the Normandy and prevent them from making that pickup."
"James!" James was out of the cabin at Rolly's call. The sight that met his eyes was three boat loads approaching from Avon. James took one look, his eyes watching closely.
"Okay Rolly, open her up." James dove back into the cabin.
"You asked for this Wilkins." James closed off all radio connections as the engine bellowed into life, and jumped for the deck and the wheel. He grabbed it as the boat lunged viciously forward. James swung the wheel and cut the boat in a wide arc. James cast a quick glance over his shoulder and found the boats sent by Avon, he spun the Normandy in another quick arc.
"Get your harnesses on, I haven't done this for a while." Rolly and Beth dove for their harnesses, and soon James was having fun stirring up the boats. "What are we on Rolly?"
"Quarter." James considered for a moment.
"Open it up, and cross your fingers." The engine's growl turned into a savage snarl-whine as Rolly opened the engine right up. James swung past the boats once more, upsetting them with the Normandy's wake, and took off in a zig-zagging path for the Avon.
Captain Arnold Wilkins watched in astonishment as the fishing boat suddenly started moving, but he thought little of it, until it upset his boats and headed straight for the Avon. He immediately cut in on the heated discussion between Washington and Thomlin.
"Sir, what do I do. They're moving."
"In which direction Captain? You must be more concise in your descriptions."
"Towards us."
"Then what are you worried about. Shoot them out of the water."
"What did you do that caused James to start moving?" Wilkins was startled by the return into the conversation of General Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"I did nothing at all."
"Like hell you did, you must have broken some agreement."
"Well I sent a few boats to check them out."
"You're an idiot. You had an agreement not to come within firing range. And have a shot at shooting that boat out of the water." This offended Wilkins, and he gave orders to open fire on the boat. Washington and Thomlin resumed negotiations, and Wilkins watched as the small 'Fishing boat' avoided all attacks.
"Bazil and Thyme calling Fizz and Bubble."
"Fizz and Bubble responds. What is it?"
"James want to know how far we can go?" The voice was faint on the background of a noisy engine.
"What are you doing now?"
"James says drawing circles?"
"What throttle?"
"Nearly all out."
"What's he want to do?"
"Persuade them that Torpedoes are useless."
"Does he have any injuries?"
"grazed side to his head."
"Who gave it?"
"The German who prevented us from avoiding the Avon."
"Rear Admiral Thomlin?"
"What?"
"Do you agree to let the Normandy remain?"
"No."
Chapter 60
"Very well. Tell him to go for it. But keep on the radio if possible. I feel the Rear Admiral may be willing to talk shortly." Wilkins could hear a faint chuckle, and then there was a faint clunk over the radio, followed by a secondary, and minor, explosion from the front of the ship. Wilkins shook his head in bewilderment, until a harried looking lieutenant hurried onto the bridge.
"Captain Wilkins, sir."
"What is it Lieutenant?"
"I have to report the loss of our starboard torpedo tube." Wilkins paled.
"How much damage?"
"Not much, but sufficient to prevent firing."
"You're excused lieutenant." Wilkins dove for the radio.
"What the hell is going on. They just cleaned up our starboard torpedo tube."
"James has apparently not lost his touch. Rear Admiral, are you willing to reconsider?"
"What in hell are you up to?"
"As we were interrupting your plans, so were you interrupting ours. Your method to persuade us to depart is to shoot us out of the water, so we respond with similar methods."
"Bazil and Thyme. Permission to fire again?"
"What's James using?"
"Gobstoppers."
"Don't fire yet. Rear Admiral, are you willing to reconsider?"
"You can't do things like this!"
"We appear to have. But don't worry, if the repair crew are worth their salt that tube will be useable again in a few hours."
"General Darcy, you are in no position to negotiate!" Wilkins was astounded when another radio joined.
"Rolly and Tumble Calling to Avon."
"Avon responds."
"You may not be aware, but a German destroyer has just arrived. Shall we keep them distracted while you get that tube functional." Wilkins spat something rude and reached for the intraship communications.
"Battle alert, we have a destroyer approaching." Avon was swinging fast into action, but not fast enough. The German torpedo hit as the destroyer reached battle ready.
"Starboard breach. Locking up down. Sir we will have to run for it."
"We can't, it'll take another fifteen minutes to get the engines warm enough."
"Normandy! Go for it. Denmark will arrive in twenty minutes. Jermyn is coming in five minutes."
"Normandy going into action, sir." Wilkins listened as the radios cut out, before standing up, to watch the action. The German destroyer was hanging just out of reach most of the time, but they cut in every once in a while to fire.
"Get the engines warming." Wilkins watched in amazement as the small 'Fishing boat' swung out from the Avon and headed for the other destroyer. "Get the radio scanning, see if you can pick anything up." Wilkins returned his gaze to watch. As the 'Normandy' approached, he saw the other destroyer open fire on it. It looked like life might be fairly exciting on the 'Normandy'. Then the boat swung across the destroyers bows, hesitated a second, then drove wildly away. Wilkins saw a small explosion near the waterline. The boat passed the bow, and once again it hesitated, then drove wildly for clear water. Once again Wilkins saw a small waterline explosion.
"Avon. Use your guns. They are without torpedoes now." As the Avon's guns went into action, Wilkins observed another small 'Fishing boat' arrive. The two boats met for a moment, then returned to the fight.
Rolly glanced at her watch, which was still miraculously working. Then turned to James.
"We got to get to the pickup site." James nodded, and 'Normandy' pulled out of the battle.
"Jermyn, we got a pickup. Can you manage, or will you accompany us?"
"I'll stay. I think this destroyer is about to give up."
"Right." As the Normandy pulled out of the fire zone, James glanced at Beth and Rolly, who were busily checking the ship and supplies.
"We've lost the long range radio, and a lot of fuel." Rolly was fiddling around in the cabin, while Beth inspected their armoury.
"Two gobstoppers and a few peppermints. Not much to defend ourselves with." James glanced back in time to see the German destroyer pull out.
"Looks like Jermyn's about to follow. Denmark appears to be heading directly back to their position." Beth nodded abstractly, her eyes scanning the distant shoreline.
"James, we're twenty miles south of the pickup." James nodded and changed course accordingly. Rolly came back, a firm grip on her right arm.
"Beth, I think you'd better give me a hand here." Beth and Rolly vanished below deck, leaving James to eye the skyline.
Jack's head felt like it was totally disconnected from the rest of him, but he still felt elated. He scurried back into Washington's office with the plate of chicken and chocolate, and the large coffee pot. Washington was leaning heavily against the desk, his face was a pale grey, his eyes were deeply encircled by blue. Fizz's condition was little better.
"We've got Italy back. I've pulled Nikolai's line in. Mac is making a mess of the retreat near Breque. Ratcheson and Hilton are mining that bridge." Jack dove for the radio as it buzzed into life.
"Jack and tyre. Who is it?"
"Denmark mined a subnest, Finland reports more retreats.." Washington's voice droned on as both men consumed food and coffee. Jack grabbed a lump of chocolate, then got back to the radio.
"Granna Apples here. Whitehall reports that the paper's are through. We will know the result in an hour."
"Right."
"Dynnyrner out." Jack turned the radio off and returned to the mass of paper and information.
"Nothing from Normandy, Jack?" Jack glanced up at Fizz and shook his head.
"Not since they signed off to enter that battle two hours ago." Fizz nodded, and all conversation ceased, as Washington resumed droning out lists of figures, and names.
Chapter 61
Edward hesitated before he knocked and entered Washington's office. He started slightly at the shambles that met his eyes. He had just returned from Italy, and withdrawing that now useless line.
"General Washington, sir." A pile of paper shifted near the table and a pair of tired eyes appeared.
"What is it Edward?" Edward hesitated momentarily, and watched in amazement as two more sheets of paper shifted and two more heads appeared.
"Whitehall just announced that the Armistice has been signed."
"At last." Edward watched in amazement as Washington's head sank back under the paper.
"Edward?" Edward glanced away from Washington. "Be a good chap. Jack and I need coffee and chocolate. But first help us get Washington into a bed." Edward gave a quick hand, then followed Fizz and Jack into the kitchen.
"Coffee, chocolate, the usual." Edward watched in amazement as the kitchen department swung into action, and soon he was watching as the two men consumed a gargantuan meal, washed down with large quantities of coffee. Fizz then pulled out a watch.
"Good, we still have time. Dusty!" Dusty came into the room on the run. "Jack and I are going to join this evening's pickup, but we need a chauffeur to get there. We are going to MacUalraig for sleep." Dusty nodded and vanished, as Fizz sat down in a chair and blinked rather foggily.
Beth sat quietly on the foredeck. They had arrived an hour early for the pickup, and so far, nobody had arrived. The news of the signing of the Armistice had come as they arrived. Beth turned as James sat down next to her, and placed an arm around her shoulders.
"Hallo." Beth yawned lightly.
"Hallo." No more was said, and no more needed to be said, it had been a rough day. Beth looked up again as Rolly joined them.
"Lovely view isn't it?" Beth and James nodded. "Where do we drop this pickups?"
"London." Rolly nodded, and silence lapsed as they watched the sun slowly sank. As it vanished out of sight Beth stirred. "And so ends the last day of the official war." James then stood up.
"Here come the first pickups. We'd better go give a hand." The 'Normandy' was tied up to a bit of shore, that shelved steeply. James jumped off the bow and walked in the direction of the small group. As they climbed aboard the boat, Rolly and Beth heard the radio stutter into life, and simultaneously they dove for the radio.
"WC, calling Normandy....WC calling Normandy."
"Normandy receiving, this is Rolly and Tumble."
"Dressing ham and meat, here. Your pickup has enlarged by two. They could be delayed."
"Any identifier?"
"You'll know them."
"Right."
"WC out." The radio went dead and Beth and Rolly returned to the deck.
"James, we've had two more added to our pickup. We'll recognise them, no other identifier." James nodded and soon the pickup were all stowed under the deck, except for the extra pickups. Beth stirred restlessly, and walked to the bow, soon to be joined by Rolly.
"James is watching out into the channel." Beth nodded, and gingerly rubbed her shoulder, her eyes continued scanning for more arrivals.
Granna stood watching the harbour entrance. Phillip and Kenneth had arrived two days previously. Jermyn had arrived only the afternoon before. This left only the 'Normandy' to arrive. They had reported that they'd be delayed, but they had not been particularly clear on why. Granna started slightly as the familiar boat chugged around the point. She left the room immediately.
"Here they come." The Fitzwilliam clan descended in full to greet the small boat as it docked.
"Uncle James!" James Jr. and Harry were into the boat as soon as it was close enough.
"Rolly, Beth."
"FIZZ!" Gramp's roar drowned out the rest of the yells and general noise. Fizz waved wearily, and carefully worked his way through the crowd to Gramp, pulling his companion with him.
"Hallo Gramp. Allow me to introduce Jack."
"Hallo Jack." Jack found his hand engulfed in a mighty grip. "I'm gramp." Jack nodded, then yawned.
"Sorry, I'm still a bit sleepy." Jack was surprised at the speed at which he found himself fed and tucked into a large comfortable bed, but he had not long to be surprised for as he was very soon asleep.
Fizz sat quietly in the armchair, his eyes blinking slowly.
"Okay, everyone off to bed." Beth watched as Granna chased the family off to bed, then turned as Fizz hauled himself out of his chair. James stood up, and both men glanced momentarily at Beth, who had remained seated, then back at each other.
"Look after her, James. She'll need it." Fizz quietly left the room, leaving James to look uncertainly at Beth, Beth yawned.
"Oh, sorry James. Where'd Fizz go."
"He left."
"Oh." Beth frowned as she stood up and walked over to him.
"I think he'll always be leaving."
"But he is no longer running." James wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the tears started to fall, and Beth's weren't the only ones. "At least he is no longer running."
The End