Sally spoke. "He is telling the truth, Captain McGregor. Any child in High School in the States learns that the Great Plague of London in 1665 was caused by the rats and the fleas they carried. You've got to get rid of the rats from your ship. Let them do it for you!"
"We've already sent all your sick men ashore," the man continued, "because they were at greater risk by remaining here. What we will do now is spray every corner of the ship with a liquid which will kill all the rodents and fleas, and to make doubly sure we kill them all, we will also release poisonous gas into the air in every air space in the boat to ensure that all the fleas are killed. Now that you are here, I would request that you show me any and every space in the ship. We must not forget anywhere where a rat could hide!"
"Mr Walton, I will warn you now that you have taken liberties that under normal circumstances would have caused me to send you to your maker. I suggest that you do not make the same mistake twice. You will not go into any cabin or hold upon this ship without my express prior permission..."
Just as he was finishing his sentence, a man burst upon the deck from the ladders, shouting loudly and waving something in the air which Captain Rob immediately recognised as a bar of gold.
"Treasure!" the man shouted loudly. "The ship is full of treasure! Pirate treasure!"
Captain Rob rushed forward, grabbing the bar from the man's outstretched hand and knocking him to the ground. Thrusting the point of the cutlass against the man's throat, he pressed it forward, piercing the suit he wore with its sharp point.
The man screamed, scrambled back along the deck away from the Captain on his back, frantically trying to cover the rip in his suit with his hands.
"You've killed me!" he shouted. "I will catch the plague!" He stood up and hurried away from the Captain, climbing quickly over the gunwale, scrambling down the net and into one of the boats.
The Captain walked across to Ben Walton.
"Who gave you permission to break into locked quarters?"
"I did...I could not find you, and we have a job that we must do."
"Then it is you who I must punish."
And without a further word being said, Captain McGregor picked up the man with both his hands, carried him to the side of the ship and tossed him over the side.
Sally screamed.
Waving the gold bar aloft in the air, the Captain shouted loudly. "If any man speaks of this ashore, and tells any other man a single word about what he sees aboard this ship, I promise that I will have that man's life. This is my ship. This is my property. And you are here only because of the wisdom of Miss Sally. Touch nothing, take nothing, and say nothing about your time on this ship. No man is to go behind any door that is locked, on pain of death. And before each man leaves this ship I will see him naked in my cabin without your suits, except for a blasted mask to stop you infecting me with your disgusting, sweet smelling breaths. And if I find that any one of you tries to hide or steal something, I will have a pound of your flesh for each ounce of our possessions that you steal! Now get you to work...Except you," the Captain said, pointing at one of them. "You shall teach me how this 'thing' works, and I shall kill the rats in the holds...They are my rats, and I shall kill them myself!"
Chapter 38
The Oval Office
The White House
Wednesday 2 a.m.
General Jerome Connor sat at the President's desk, dropping an extra lump of sugar into the already sweet coffee and stirring it slowly with a little silver spoon. He said nothing, letting the power of silence underwrite the words he would soon speak.
The situation down in Puerto Rico fascinated General Connor. He had been following it all day long, watching every twist and turn of the drama in high-definition video, thanks to the geostationary military satellite which he had ordered repositioned over the Blue Emerald Bay Resort. BlueSky 7 was equipped with the most advanced cameras ever built, even better than those used by NASA, allowing General Connor to watch everything that happened in the resort in exquisite detail.
Thanks to his contacts at the NSA, he also had feeds of every conversation in Puerto Rico that referenced the crisis there, including live feeds from the Governor's personal phone and all the devices being used in the Operation Cutlass Incident Room in Puerto Rico.
Unbeknown to the President, he had also listened in to every word of the conversation between President Gains and Dr Anton Lebsky in Switzerland.
Which is why, now, at 2 a.m., he had requested a private meeting with the President.
"So," the President eventually said, breaking the silence, as the General had forced him to do. Mind games were a specialty of his. "How can I help you at this hour?"
"You already have, Mr President. By agreeing to see me. I appreciate it."
"Good, then perhaps we can all now go to bed, unless there is something else that you wish, besides my personal autograph." The President replied, rather abruptly. He knew all about General Connor, and he did not like the man or any of the duties that he performed.
"Well, since I am here, perhaps we can discuss the situation that is developing down in Puerto Rico. Personally, I would advise against using the Piras Plan. At least, at this stage. Perhaps later. But certainly not so soon."
President Gains knew that General Connor was waiting for a reaction, a show of outrage that his private conversation with the head of the World Health Organisation had been overheard, or discussed outside of this office, but he declined to give it. President Gains had long since given up the hope that any conversation was ever private. Sadly, he knew only too well, that every single electronic communication in America was being monitored by numerous powers around his country. The concept of secrecy had long since evaporated, along with free speech, and real, pure, democracy. Which was good, because if real democracy did exist, President Gains would never have been elected. And he knew it.
"So, you don't like the idea of wiping out hundreds of people using a small thermal nuclear incendiary device? And why would that be, pray tell, General Connor? I thought that is what your department dreamed of doing?"
"Please, Mr President, don't get me wrong. It would be interesting to observe, and record, and analyze later. There is a lot we could learn from it. However, as you know, in my department we are more interested in the development of 'biological' tools to help assist us win any battles the United States may be required to fight. I am well aware of your disdain for the projects which I am tasked to run, however, I would remind you, Mr President, that it is your signature that is upon the documents which grant me a billion dollar budget ever year, to run the most secretive department in your military. Officially I do not exist, and hence my need to see you now at this hour when every normal person would be asleep and in bed. However, since you personally fund me to research, create and develop weapons of a biological nature, which, perhaps, could at some time in our future, assist the United States of America in overcoming a future aggressor or enemy of our country...then I feel it is my duty to point out that wiping out the biovar which is causing the outbreak of plague in the Blue Emerald Bay could be against American interests."
"In our laboratories, we strive relentlessly to design new weapons of mass destruction based upon the latest pathogens we can imagine or design. Yet, now, in the Blue Emerald Bay, it would appear that a natural mutation of the bacterium that causes pneumonic plague has appeared. From what I understand from the findings of the investigations conducted by the doctors in the World Health Organisation, it would appear that this biovar could be particularly powerful and dangerous. Its capacity to kill could be phenomenal. Which, and bearing in mind that my view on these things is slightly different than those shared by the common man, makes this biovar particularly attractive to me. I think it would be a great shame to simply annihilate it from this planet, before we have a chance to better understand it. For example, how does it kill? Who does it kill? And how fast? What are the symptoms? How does is it spread? Is there a vaccine, an antidote or a cure that
we could create for it? Etc. Etc. So many unanswered questions. So much potential."
"…Mr President, I of course understand the W.H.O.'s concerns about the danger that this pathogen poses to mankind, but it is precisely because this pathogen is potentially so dangerous, that I believe we must act later rather than sooner. So long as the Blue Emerald Bay is securely isolated from the rest of the world, there is little opportunity for the pathogen to spread, which gives us a unique opportunity to observe how this disease spreads, how it affects its victims, its incubation period, the time it takes to kill, how it can be treated, and most importantly, to discover its mortality rate. How many people will the disease kill? From our perspective, obviously the more the merrier...but that is simply because you, Mr President, are paying us to focus on such considerations. In short, Mr President, it is my recommendation that we shelve the Piras Plan, for the time being at least, and watch and wait. There is much to learn. There may never be another opportunity like this, Mr President. It would simply be wrong to let it all go up in smoke!"
The President stared at the General. Speechless for the first time that day. His only thought was one of gratitude, recognising how lucky they were to have such a monster fighting with them and not against the United States of America.
"Oh, and there is one last thing, Mr President. Before all the pirates do die, perhaps it would be nice to let us take one of them away for further study. We need to make sure that we capture a live specimen of the bacteria, so that we can culture and develop it in future. And we often find that it's best to keep a victim alive for as long as possible so that we can study them and their bodies at close quarters as the disease spreads throughout their system. Just one would be enough...if you would agree?"
--------------------
The Blue Emerald Bay Resort
Puerto Rico
Wednesday
2:35 a.m.
After checking to make sure that the flying Ben Walton, who had been unceremoniously dumped over the side, had managed to scramble safely back up the side of the ship, Sally had left the Captain to help fumigate his own ship.
She was upset with him for his violent response to the invasion of his ship, and she had needed to get away from him.
Once back on shore, however, she had calmed down and realised that the Captain's response had actually been quite measured. After all, the man was a pirate captain: he was the leader of a band of desperadoes and killers - they fought to live and earned their livelihood by taking what they needed and what they could. For the Captain to find unauthorized people aboard his ship without his permission, having overcome his men and thrown them off, she could now completely understand that his first instinct was to kill or throw every one of them overboard. Instead, he had tolerated them as best as he could. However, she knew that if they pushed him and his crew too far, or threatened to take their treasure in any way, then they would fight for it.
Sally was exhausted. She had been up all day, and now that the adrenaline and alcohol were leaving her blood, the tiredness was kicking in.
How must the Captain feel? When was the last time he had slept?
After Sally had done a few rounds of the hotel complex, she checked in with her management team who were still awake and the doctors in the hospital. More pirates had died, others had been infected, but thankfully no guests had yet been diagnosed with any such symptoms. However, she anticipated that would probably happen within the next twenty-four hours.
Knowing the Captain would be further saddened and frustrated by the deaths of more of his men, she decided to go back to the Sea Dancer and break the news to him gently.
After rowing out to the Sea Dancer, she climbed the netting quickly. Coming to the top, she jumped over the gunwales and asked two men who were on deck, where the Captain was.
"We finished ten minutes ago. He has gone to his cabin."
Sally hurried down the ladders and along the now foul-smelling fumigated corridor to the Captain's cabin.
She knocked on the door, and waited. Almost immediately a loud shout came from within: "Who goes there? If ye are my crew, come in, otherwise get ye hence before I scalp yer hide!"
Sally opened the door and walked in, finding the room lit by candles and lanterns hanging from the cabin walls.
Captain McGregor was standing by his bed, naked as the day he was born, his long hair wet and dripping down over his back. He was looking away from her out of the cabin window across the bay towards the resort, and her immediate reaction was to walk backwards and sneak quickly out of the room, but instead, she stood her ground, staring at the Captain.
He was a tall man. His body was like a statue, sculpted, and beautifully formed, large developed muscles showing everywhere. His buttocks were round and firm, and his shoulders wide and powerful. He reminded her of an athlete. And in spite of herself she found herself involuntarily exhaling, her body reacting strongly to the sight of him.
The Captain turned, catching her gaze. For a moment his eyes locked with hers and he said nothing. She did not look away.
He turned away from her, bending over his bed and picking up a white shirt. He pulled it over his head, and as he reached up with both hands, Sally could not stop herself from quickly looking down at his manhood. She exhaled for a second time.
With his white shirt now pulled down over his body, the Captain, grabbed his breeches and pulled them on, then slipped his feet back into what looked like very long socks and slid them back into his boots.
"You will excuse my state of undress, Miss Sally. After helping your friends kill all my rats and fleas, I needed a swim to stop the smell of their foul gasses also killing me! I am now much refreshed, and ready to complete my promise to you before I retire and grab a wink of much anticipated sleep. Come, let us go. You will help me find my men and warn them once again, as we agreed."
It took an hour for them to go round all of his men, to wake them and to talk to them and warn them about the dangers of leaving their quarters. To a man, they were all pleased to see the Captain. They were scared, and worried. A few of them whose new rooms had already had fridges installed and filled, had discovered the joys of the 'drinks cabinet' and had drunk all the 'little bottles of grog'.
Sadly, when one of the men answered his door, it was obvious he was very ill. Sally immediately went to fetch help and two hotel workers in protective suits wheeled him in a wheelchair to the tennis courts.
Shortly afterwards when they were finished doing their round, the Captain and Miss Sally went to the tennis courts to check on how he was doing, and they found he had fallen unconscious and was now delirious. The medical officer in the white suit indicated that the prognosis was not good.
Suddenly extremely exhausted, the Captain left the green tents and sat down hard on the ground of the tennis courts, leaning back against the metal fence that enclosed them. He closed his eyes and hung his head.
Five more of his men had died.
Of a crew of one hundred and twenty souls, thirty were now dead, and another twenty were lying sick within the tents. All within the space of a day.
"We will all be gone with two days. There will be no survivors." Captain McGregor said quietly.
Sally sat down beside him, a few feet away, and looked at him. She felt a curious blend of feelings about this man before her. By all rights she should hate him. But the simple fact was that she didn't. She already knew that if she were to be honest with herself, she quite liked him, and also, she was attracted to him. There was something about him that she found very intriguing. However, she found her attraction to him to be quite embarrassing. After all, how kitschy could she be: 'single woman' falls for 'drop dead gorgeous pirate captain'? But there was more to it than simple attraction. Captain McGregor was obviously a highly intelligent man. He genuinely cared for his men. He was not a savage, as most pirates were made out to be, and Sally suspected that there was more to him than met the eye. She would like to learn more about this man, if time would allow.<
br />
While they were sitting, resting on the red asphalt covered ground, a doctor in white clothing came up to them. As he started to speak, he offered them two new face masks to replace the ones which they had been wearing for the past few hours.
"Captain McGregor. I am Dr Wratten. I just wanted to let you know that a few of your men have started to respond to the powerful antibiotics we are giving them. Their condition is stabilizing, and although it is too early to say, I am hopeful for them. We have increased the dosage with the others, and are trying several new medicines that arrived an hour ago. We are trying everything we can."
"Thank you, Dr Wratten. Thank you..." the Captain replied. "I appreciate everything you and your crew are doing for us."
Sally spoke next. "Dr Wratten, when do you expect the first of the hotel guests and employees to start showing symptoms?"
"That is difficult to say, I'm afraid. Normally, we would expect the incubation period for pneumonic plague to be anything from one to three days from first exposure and infection. However, this particular plague is progressing faster than we would have expected. The initial symptoms that we would expect to see patients exhibiting would be fever, weakness, nausea, headache and then a rapidly developing pneumonia coupled with shortness of breath, cough, chest pain and often watery or bloody sputum. Once a patient shows symptoms the pneumonia will develop and progress for between two and four days. Patients without early treatment will die quite quickly, a few within the first thirty-six hours. The good news is that we now have a plentiful supply of the best drugs we would want to help tackle an outbreak like this, but the bad news is that the majority of the men are not responding as we would have hoped. The disease is progressing faster than we would expect, and they are dying even though we are doing our best to treat them. With modern medicines there is quite a lot we can do to protect people who have had, or will have, any contact with those who are already infected, so a team of our doctors has been going round visiting all the hotel guests and workers and issuing them with the same antibiotics that you will have been given earlier on. You did receive them, did you not?"
TIME SHIP (Book Two) - A Time Travel Romantic Adventure Page 15
