The Captain and Sally nodded.
"Good. Everyone will keep taking them for the next ten days. Normally, if we treat people within a day of the first symptoms appearing, we can significantly reduce the risk of death. However, the normal drugs we are giving to your men - Streptomycin, tetracyclines, chloramphenicol, and gentamicin just do not seem to be working as fast as we would hope. Too many are dying, and far quicker than we would have anticipated. Still, it's early days yet. With the new drugs we have also given them, we can only wait and see how effective they will be."
"Do you think they will work?"
"They should, but this is not a normal plague. It is different. So we cannot tell."
Sally and the Captain said nothing, and the doctor let the implications of his words sink home.
"What is happening to the bodies of my men? I have been too busy to help..."
"Don't worry. An army unit was sent in early this evening...you may have seen the helicopters. They have set up a field crematorium near where you burned the first bodies earlier. They have been photographing and taking details of the deceased, then incinerating their bodies as soon after death as possible."
The Captain opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. Instead he struggled to his feet.
"I need to sleep. I have not slept in two days...I apologize, but I must take my leave."
"You need to rest now Captain," Doctor Wratten continued. "You have done all you can for your men, but now you must think only about yourself. You need your strength. Going on our experience of this plague so far, if you are going to fall ill, it will be soon. Drink as much water as you can. And sleep. As much as you can."
Sally stood up too, and for a moment she considered offering a helping hand to the Captain, but then thought better of it. She did not think he would appreciate it.
"You must also rest," the Doctor said to Sally. "Everything that needs to be done has been done. Now we can only wait and let nature, and our medicines, take their course..."
Walking slowly, Sally accompanied the Captain to one of the Executive Suites on the quietest side of the resort. She gave him a quick guide of the rooms, finding it fascinating to watch the Captain's reaction as she explained everything about the restroom and the W.C. She watched him flush it several times by himself, and heard him laugh for the first time that day as he played with it, amazed by the wonders of his new world. She showed him how the shower worked, and he almost jumped out of his skin when the water rushed from the ceiling down onto the floor in the walk-in shower cubicle. Then he walked into the shower fully clothed. That was when Sally laughed.
Next, she showed him where he could find some food, snacks and fruit, and finally, she showed him how to call for help with the telephone if he fell ill. She also told him which number to dial if he needed to talk to her in her flat.
Then she left him.
Fifteen minutes later she was asleep in her own bed.
Chapter 39
Operation Cutlass Incident Room
Police Headquarters
San Juan
Puerto Rico
Wednesday 10 a.m.
The video screen on the wall came alive, and the Governor and the Superintendent of Puerto Rico sat up in their chairs, leaning forward on the table and waiting for the person on the other end of the video connection to speak.
Everyone else in the Incident Room had been told to take a break, and had been ushered out.
"This is a one-way video feed and I can't see you. But can you see me okay?" a voice at the other end of the video connection said.
"Yes, although it is still quite dark." The Governor replied. "Can you not make it brighter at your end?"
"No, we have one electric lamp down here, but that is all we have. We are in deep in the holds of the pirates' ship, the Sea Dancer. The only light is coming from the electric lamp."
"Are you sure the Captain doesn't know you are there? I understand that he got rather angry with you earlier on, Dr Walton?"
"Yes. He tossed me overboard."
"He didn't make you walk the plank?" the Governor asked, chuckling.
Dr Walton ignored the joke made at his expense.
"The pirate captain is fast asleep in his room in the hotel. We have posted a guard outside, and he would warn us on our military radio if he had left the room. He hasn't. So we are okay."
"So, what exactly is it that you want to show us, and only us? This had better be important. I've just ordered everyone to leave the Incident Room, and we all have a lot to do, in case you didn't realise," the Governor demanded.
"I understand. I thought I should show you this, Mr Governor, sir, and I thought only you two should see it. For reasons which will become immediately apparent. You see, while we were fumigating the ship, one of my men broke into this room, and discovered this..."
Almost theatrically, Dr Walton pushed open a door behind him, and held the electric light up. The man holding the portable camera stepped into the room and focused on the objects inside, panning across the room so that the Governor and the Superintendent could see everything.
The room was full of chests, boxes and sacks. Dr Walton bent down and opened up one of the chests. It was full of coins. Shiny, gold coins.
The men in the Incident Room in San Juan gasped.
"You must tell no one else about this, do you understand?" the Governor ordered Dr Walton ten minutes later. "There is a fortune in that room. An untold fortune!"
The Governor's eyes sparkled as he said it.
Dr Walton had showed them samples of the contents of each of the other boxes, chests and sacks in the room, and the contents of each was equally stupendous.
"I understand, Governor, sir. Which is why I wanted to show you this in private."
"You did well. Thank you. And make sure your men do not talk of this either! Do you understand?"
"Yes. I do."
"Good." Then the Governor laughed. "This is incredible. I think we can stop doubting now whether or not they are genuine pirates. If it wasn't for this bloody plague, I would be on the next helicopter over there to look at this for myself. This is every child's dream come true!"
"And every man's..." the Superintendent added.
A few minutes later, they ended the call. As soon as the connection had been broken, the Governor turned to the Superintendent.
"Who else do we tell about this, Walter? Who else needs to know?"
"For now, the fewer people who know about this the better. We've known each other for a long time, and I think I can tell what you are thinking."
"Exactly, Walter. The fewer people who know about this the better, if you get my drift?"
"Oh, I get your drift. Don't you worry about that Albert! I get your drift just fine… But don't forget that you promised the pirate captain that he could keep the ship and everything aboard?"
"Shit. So I did…Blast!" the Governor stood up from the table, cursing loudly.
"Let's just hope then," the Superintendent continued, "...that he is one of the unfortunate victims that this plague kills."
The Governor looked at his old friend, a man who he had known for over twenty years, and agreed. "It would be unfortunate, that is true, but it would certainly solve a problem."
The Governor walked to the windows and looked at the city of San Juan outside. He was thinking.
"Personally, Walter, I am not so concerned about breaking a promise made to a terrorist who has just attacked our premier resort and held us to ransom. He has broken the law, and in my view, promises made under duress do not count...especially when he may stand in the way of our personal plans."
The Superintendent smiled.
"Okay," the Governor said, turning around. "Now that is agreed, let's get back to the business of saving the world."
"And ourselves..." the Superintendent added.
Then he stood up, and called everyone else back into the room.
--------------------
Operation C
utlass Incident Room
Police Headquarters
San Juan
Puerto Rico
Wednesday 2 p.m.
Professor Derek Martin walked into the Operation Cutlass Incident Room just several minutes past two o'clock in the afternoon. It had already been a long day, having woken up at 4 a.m. to a phone call on his cell from Colonel Patterson, excited that he had 'swung the deal' and that Derek had been granted access to fly into Puerto Rico on a military transport flight that would be carrying fresh supplies of medicine and materials needed for the Blue Emerald Bay Hotel.
A military car had picked him up at his home, taken him to the airport, and seven hours later he was in Puerto Rico.
The Incident Room at the Police Headquarters in San Juan was a hive of activity, with people constantly streaming in and out.
At first no one noticed as Derek was directed into the room by a young police woman, but after a few minutes of standing silently in the doorway, he coughed loudly several times, and finally got some attention.
"Hello, I am Professor Derek Martin from the Bush Center in New York. I believe that Colonel Patterson arranged for me to come and speak with you? I was directed up here."
A large man, rather overweight, balding on the top of his head but with silver hair on the sides of his scalp which marked his seniority, stood up on the other side of the large wooden table that dominated the length and breadth of the incident room, and around which at least thirty people were sitting, each busy on their laptops or their phones.
"Professor Martin. Can you please step back outside of the room, and I will join you in a second. Take a seat at one of the desks out there...make yourself comfortable. Constable Richards, ...shut the door behind him."
Rather taken aback, Derek obeyed, finding an empty desk nearby the Incident Room. Obviously he was not meant to hear or see what was going on in the room. Which made him more curious...What was going on?
From where he was sitting he could see the images on the video screens at the far end of the Incident Room. It was a view of the resort complex and the beach, taken from above. Probably a satellite feed.
There were two other screens: one was full of unreadable text and another showed the head and shoulders of someone in a white medical coat, obviously someone taking part in a video call with the Incident Room.
Looking back at the Superintendent, he caught his gaze, and realised that the Superintendent had been watching him study the video screens. The Superintendent waved his hands at someone else in the room, and immediately someone jumped up and lowered some blinds at the far end of the room, blocking off the video screens and stopping him from seeing anything more.
Now Derek really did want to know what was going on!
Thirty minutes later the Superintendent finally emerged from the Incident Room.
"I apologize for the wait, Professor Martin, however, I am sure that you may appreciate that we are extremely busy dealing with an international hostage crisis."
"I understand, although I couldn't help but wonder if it has evolved beyond that?" Derek asked, jumping to his feet and shaking hands with the Superintendent. Derek was fishing.
"What do you mean?" the Superintendent replied, somewhat defensively.
"I find it curious that there is a sudden news blackout on everything that is happening. That's all. It doesn't matter how hard you try, you just can't find any new news anywhere relating to the pirates in Puerto Rico."
The Superintendent smiled, but Derek noticed that his top lip was twitching. There was definitely something more to this hostage crisis than met the eye. Did they already know that the terrorists were actually definitely bona fide pirates?
"Please, come with me, Professor Martin. Let's find a quiet seat in the office over there."
Derek followed the Superintendent over to a corner away from the Incident Room. The Superintendent held the door open for him as Derek entered and sat down, closing it after him. Then he sat down in a seat opposite Derek across a table.
"There's a good reason for the news blackout, Professor. It's quite simple. Terrorists do what they do in order to create news, in an attempt to scare...no, in order to terrorize people by getting as many people as possible to hear about the bad things they do, so that they can promote their cause. If governments would simply cut off the supply of news relating to any terrorist activities, no one would hear about them, no one would be terrorized, and no one would ever learn about the wacky causes that terrorists seek to gain publicity for. In Puerto Rico, we do not give airspace to terrorists. We ignore their demands for news coverage. We starve them of what they seek. We ignore their demands. And next time around, any terrorists will think twice about coming here to target Puerto Rico. There would simply be no point!"
"An interesting perspective, Mr Superintendent. One with which I quite sympathize."
"I'm glad you agree. Anyway, enough about that. Let's talk about you. Someone in the military pulled quite a few strings for you to come down here. I must admit that I know nothing about you? Who are you, what do you do, and why are you here?"
"Wow. You don't mince words, do you?" Derek replied, feeling like he was about to be interrogated. "I run the Bush Center for Geo-Electromagnetic Studies in New York. We are a privately funded research group that investigate natural phenomena. I have spent the past six months creating and leading a project that investigated the physical phenomena that took place during the collisions of the four hurricanes several days ago. We looked at the electromagnetic fields within the storm centers and how they varied as the storms collided. We predicted that when the storms collided, they would peter out and dissipate. Which, as you know, is exactly what happened when Hurricanes Josephine, Kyle, Hanna and Isaias collided together."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"So, why are you here?"
"Before I tell you, I will pre-empt your reaction by saying simply that what I am about to say is actually not as mad as it seems. I have not lost my sanity, and there are many powerful people who are behind me and who believe that contrary to what you will think in a moment, that I am not mad. You see, I believe that there is a strong possibility that the people who you believe to be terrorists, are in actual fact exactly what they claim to be: in other words, they are genuine pirates, somehow transported through time and space, and now alive and well, here in Puerto Rico. What I need to know is what year they claim to come from? And the U.S. military need to know that answer too."
"Why?"
"It's classified."
"Who needs to know in the U.S. military, exactly?"
"It's classified."
"Why?"
"Because it is."
"Come on, Professor Martin. This conversation is becoming extremely childish. Please just answer my questions, and I will answer yours."
"I am sorry, but I can't. But I do need to know the year the pirates came from. So, if you know, please tell me. Otherwise I will have to speak with others who will arrange for someone very high up indeed to call you and order you to tell me exactly what I need to know. But, granted that those same people have already authorised me to be here to ask you this exact question, I believe they will not be impressed or pleased that you have not cooperated with me already."
"Is that a threat, Professor Martin?"
"Not at all. I simply need to know what date...."
"1699."
"What did you just say?"
"1699. They claim to come from the year 1699. And I agree with you, I believe them to be genuine pirates too."
"1699?" Derek almost shouted in reply, standing up from his seat. "Incredible. Fantastic. Wow...that's the best news I have heard for months. It is exactly the year that we predicted they would come from!"
Derek paced the room a few times, smiling and laughing, and speaking to himself. Then a thought occurred to him and he stopped moving in mid-step, turned and addressed the Superintendent.
"Hang on a moment...if you already
believe that they are not terrorists and they are real pirates, why are you still telling everyone they are terrorists?"
The Superintendent laughed.
"I am sorry, Professor Martin, but I cannot tell you, ...because it is classified."
"So you accept that they are real pirates from 1699, but you cannot tell me why there is a news blackout or why you are continuing to tell everyone they are terrorists?"
"Exactly. That is all classified."
"Are you teasing me, or telling me the truth."
"I don't 'tease' people, Mr Martin. I just give the truth. Now, if you already have what you came for, I need to return..."
"Actually, there is one more thing. Can you please let me meet one of the pirates? Perhaps fly me into the Blue Emerald and let me have an interview with one?"
"Aha, I am sorry, Professor Martin, but that would be totally impossible. For reasons which are classified, and supported by the U.S. President himself, no one new is going in or out of the resort."
"Why not? I only need to be there for a few minutes..."
"I'm sorry, Professor Martin, but this interview is finished. I have to get back to my work. Please remain here, and I will ask for someone to escort you out."
And with that, the Superintendent stood up and walked out. True to his word, a few minutes later, Professor Martin was unceremoniously shown out of the building.
Ten minutes later Derek was on his cell phone talking to Colonel Jamieson. An hour later he was back on a military transport plane conveying him from Puerto Rico to Jamaica.
And shortly after, but unbeknown to him then, his life was going to change forever.
Chapter 40
The Blue Emerald Bay Resort
Puerto Rico
TIME SHIP (Book Two) - A Time Travel Romantic Adventure Page 16
