Atlantis - Return of the Nation

Atlantis - Return of the Nation Page 15

by Steven Cook

  Broken ribs he thought. Hardly surprising considering the blow he had taken. He was infinitely grateful that he had followed Dingo’s example and combined the modern and ancient armours.

  He altered his stroke and slowly swam against the current, heading back to the boats.

  As he swam he noticed something drifting towards him. With a shock he realised it was one of the boats and that it had been overturned. He grabbed it as it drifted past.

  Fearing the worst he ducked under the gunwale and came up into the pocket of air underneath. He came up face to face with Carrick, who was still strapped onto the stretcher.

  Carrick had his head turned to one side and was straining to keep his face out of the water.

  ‘Get me out of here.’ The panic was plain to see on the engineers face.

  Fisher drew his knife and started to cut through the rope holding the stretcher to the boat.

  ‘Hold on Dave, I’ve got you.’ He began to saw through the last rope.

  The rope finally parted and Carrick dropped free of the stretcher. He grabbed onto Fisher with one hand and flailed around with the other until he could grasp hold of the boat. The stretcher dropped away into the depths of the canal.

  ‘Thank god you came. I thought that thing had got you.’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of broken ribs, but the armour took most of the blow. I’m glad that thing didn’t have an axe.’ Fisher explained.

  ‘Right pair of invalids aren’t we?’ Carrick smiled.

  ‘I know. Do you think you can get on top of the boat?’ Fisher asked.

  ‘I don’t know until I try.’

  They took deep breaths and ducked under the water. They manoeuvred underneath the boat, maintaining a grip at all times, until they came out side by side in the open air.

  Fisher took a quick scan around. They were now passing through the forest they had previously been marched through. The overhanging trees were making the darkness even more oppressive.

  ‘Let me go first, and then I’ll help you up.’

  Fisher kicked at the water and boosted himself up. Hooking one of his legs out of the water and over the side of the boat he quickly dragged himself out of the canal. He winced in pain, but reached over to grab Carrick’s hand.

  The two men were soon lying on their backs exhausted on the upturned boat as it continued its journey with the current towards the sea.

  *

  Chapter Eight – Questions and Ideas

  H.M.S. Daring South of Arcanadia 23rd May

  Commander Gorton was furious. He was incensed that he had been ordered to hold off any attempts to rescue his men and to add insult to injury had also been ordered to move away from the island. The inactivity was making the normally calm naval officer short tempered. Several times he had almost snapped at the bridge staff.

  He stood glaring at the island a mile and a half away. The sea between them was deceptively calm, and the Daring was holding her position easily.

  ‘Sir!’

  ‘What,’ he snapped.

  The junior officer swallowed nervously.

  ‘We’ve spotted something floating in the lagoon near the river. It looks like there are a couple of men on it.’

  The Commander reached towards the high-powered binoculars resting on the starboard console in front of him and lifted them to his eyes. It took him a moment or two to pick out the low shape of the overturned boat and the two men clinging to it.

  ‘Gav, get a boat out to those men.’ He directed towards the ships First Officer, Lieutenant Gavin Bardsley.

  ‘Yes Sir,’ replied the officer, picking up the enthusiasm radiating from his commander’s voice, as he and the crew were finally able to act.

  ‘Best advise them to go in with the engines off. We don’t want the engine to get jinxed.’

  ‘Yes Sir.’ Bardsley lifted a nearby microphone and began issuing orders.’

  Like a well-oiled machine the crew of H.M.S. Daring prepared one of the ships boats and lowered it into the calm waters. Its crew quickly pushed away from the towering grey hull of the ship and rowed towards the island and the overturned inflatable.

  Safely located in the centre of the boat Lieutenant Simon Ducker, the Chief Medical Officer, checked and rechecked his medical equipment. Periodically he looked up to check their progress.

  With a slight swell of the ocean helping the boat and the current from the canal propelling the inflatable the two came together within twenty minutes.

  Fisher caught the rope cast towards them first time and gratefully held on as they were drawn along side. The sailors had shipped their oars and ably assisted the injured men into the boat. A line was attached to the abandoned inflatable to tow it back to the ship.

  As the men took to their oars once more, Lieutenant Ducker examined the castaways. Fisher had a massive bruise across the left side of his chest that indicated broken ribs.

  ‘We’ll get you X-Rayed when we get back on board. I’ll leave you without binding for the moment until I get the results. I’m afraid you’ll have to go without analgesia until I’m sure I won’t need to operate.’

  Fisher settled back with a pained grimace on his face.

  ‘I’ve had worse,’ he muttered.

  Ducker turned his attention to Carrick. He slowly unwound the bandages around his ankle. As the last bindings came free they released a bundle of fragrant herbs. Out of curiosity he collected them and placed them inside a large plastic bag.

  Carrick raised himself up to look at his ankle. As the doctor gently examined it he was surprised to note that the swelling had disappeared and the pain had gone.

  ‘What happened to you?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘I got slammed into the side of the boat, and then crashed into the bed of the lagoon after dropping fifty feet or so. My ankle was badly broken. Your Chief Spencer set it.’

  Ducker looked at his in disbelief.

  ‘Are you sure?’ He examined the ankle again, pressing the bone more firmly.

  ‘Honest to god,’ confirmed Carrick, ‘one of the warriors redressed it with those herbs but it was definitely broken.’

  The boat bumped into the side of the ship beside the landing platform. As the sailors moved to tether the boat the Doctor stood and extended his hand to Carrick.

  ‘Well, it’s not broken now. At most it’s a slight sprain. Try putting your weight on it.’

  Carrick took the proffered hand and levered himself to his feet. Gingerly he tested his ankle. With complete disbelief he put his full weight onto it.

  ‘That’s weird.’ He took a few steps towards the landing platform. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘I still want to check it out properly.’ The Doctor gathered his equipment and followed the Americans up the ladder to the main deck.

  *

  Fifth Phalanx Bridge Crossing 23rd May

  M’Varak glared at the men standing before him. His body was tensed to try and spring at then as soon as they relaxed their guard. A trio of guardsmen stood before him. One had his heavy spear levelled at his chest, the butt braced against the floor. The other two had their spears raised in stabbing positions, resting on their shoulders, but ready at a moments notice.

  They had dragged him into a small room within the guard post. A couple of torches provided a fitful light and a brazier in the corner added unwanted heat to the tense atmosphere.

  They had stripped M’Varak of his armour and pushed him into a seating position against the wall furthest from the single door. His thick wrists were still tied and the rope now led to a heavy ring set a few feet off the floor. His ankle ropes were tied to opposing walls leaving his legs wide open.

  Beyond the guards Saraph, Eraz and Dingo were discussing something in hushed tones, looking and pointing at the tethered Minoan every now an
d then. Andy Warnett was standing in front of Danny, his hand resting lightly on the centre of his chest, preventing him from getting any closer to the tethered Minoan.

  Finally Dingo walked towards M’Varak. The guard with the braced spear moved slightly to one side.

  ‘Now then mate, what’s your name?’ Dingo smiled down at M’Varak.

  ‘Kill me now human and be done with it. You’ll get nothing from me.’ M’Varak snorted.

  Dingo lowered himself to his haunches.

  ‘Come on mate, don’t be like that. All I want to do is ask you a few simple questions. When you have finished answering them you can go.’

  The smell emanating from the Minoan was rank, but Dingo forced the urge to vomit down.

  M’Varak looked hard at the Australian.

  ‘Put it this way mate,’ continued Dingo, his voice changed slightly, ‘we’ve just seen you murder a non combatant. According to Dingo’s rules of engagement that puts you up the creek without a paddle. Your mates have done a runner and there’s nothing stopping me from filleting you and making you eat yourself.’

  He grinned.

  ‘The Atlantians will not let you.’ M’Varak seemed pleased with himself, despite what Dingo had said. He didn’t even try to state his innocence over his Fists actions.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong mate. Because you murdered my unarmed countrymen they’ve handed you over to me. Isn’t that nice?’ Dingo grinned toothily.

  ‘It was not I who killed the injured man. I fight with honour.’

  ‘Well you never stopped it, so you’re still guilty. And I get to decide what to do with you.’

  The Minoan looked at Saraph who nodded.

  Jarak, Saraph’s sole remaining warrior, came into the room holding a selection of tools.

  ‘Are these sufficient?’ He showed them to Dingo.

  Dingo turned and looked at the tools one by one in the dim light, surreptitiously lifting them to enable M’Varak to see them.

  ‘I was hoping they’d be a bit sharper,’ said Dingo, holding a chisel and hammer, ‘they will probably take more blows than I would like, but if it can’t be helped.’

  He turned to M’Varak.

  ‘OK, tell me one of the following. Your name or your favourite ankle?’ He tapped the hammer lightly against the chisel, making a clean, crisp pinging noise.

  ‘Take the bastards leg off Dingo,’ spat Danny from the back of the room.

  Dingo knelt before M’Varak and gently rested the chisel on M’Varak’s ankle. He let the weight of the cold instrument rest against the Minoan’s leg while he slowly raised the heavy hammer and rested it on his shoulder.

  ‘Last chance. I know you bastards are tough, but this is going to hurt like hell.’ He looked at the Minoan.

  M’Varak looked back at him without saying a word.

  ‘OK.’ Dingo hefted the hammer and swept it down.

  ‘M’Varak.’ The words exploded from his mouth almost unconsciously.

  Dingo altered the trajectory of the hammer and it smashed into the flagstones with a heavy thud, throwing chips of stone into the air.

  ‘That wasn’t too hard was it?’ He passed the hammer and chisel to Jarak.

  M’Varak lowered his head in defeat.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  Saraph moved forward from the back of the room.

  ‘What are the Sixth and the Minoans planning?’

  M’Varak looked up at Saraph then averted his gaze to Dingo and started to talk.

  *

  H.M.S. Daring South of Arcanadia 23rd May

  A select crowd had gathered inside the small but fully equipped medical centre. Lieutenant Ducker had completed his treatment of the two Americans.

  Fisher was now strapped up with a total of four cracked ribs, the pain reduced by a dose of morphine to numb the pain. Carrick was now the subject of numerous rumours flying around the ship as the Doctor’s conclusion had been confirmed. His ankle was now completely healed, although the X-Ray had confirmed that a break had occurred.

  The two men were eating a hot meal whilst being questioned by Commander Gorton. They had briefed him on the events leading up to their arrival at the fort, and were half way through describing the escape.

  ‘Hang on a minute. You say Danny’s watch broke the sword?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Carrick slowly.

  ‘And it was working all the time you were on the island?’

  Carrick nodded.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Then I think we may have a way of getting around this jinx. The ceramic in the watch must disrupt it. Thank god that lad had his passion for them.’ mused the Commander.

  ‘But there was that javelin that went straight through the Rangers body armour. They have ceramic plates in them.’ Carrick turned to Fisher for confirmation.

  The Ranger looked uncomfortable.

  ‘We left them out. We were only expecting a search and rescue mission, not a pitched battle. They are quite heavy.’

  ‘Try not to think about it.’ Commander Gorton sympathised with Fisher. The buck always stopped at the top.

  ‘I’m going to pass this up to command. They should be able to come up with something.’ He pushed himself away from the desk he was leaning against.

  The doctor stood up as the commander left the infirmary.

  ‘You guys take it easy. I’m going to see if I can find out what these herbs are. The rest of you get out.’

  He ushered the remaining watchers out of the med bay then moved away from where the Americans were resting and moved to a small office space. Turning on the laptop he was soon connected to the Internet and was searching for answers.

  Fisher looked across at the fully mobile Carrick.

  ‘I hope they figure something out. I want every advantage when we go back onto the island.’

  ‘There is no way I’m going back on the island.’ Carrick stated bluntly.

  ‘I have to, I left people behind.’ Fisher replied quietly.

  ‘Then I suggest you get some of those herbs from the doc and slap them around your ribs.’

  Fisher considered this for a moment then hopped off the bunk. Holding his bandaged ribs he shuffled across to the Doctor.

  ‘Doc, do you need all of them?’

  Ducker glanced absently back over his shoulder at the Ranger.

  ‘No, take what you need.’

  Fisher grabbed a double handful and returned to Carrick. The pair were soon stuffing the herbs inside the bandages around his chest.

  ‘So your plan is to go back on the island tooled up with Glock pistols and get everybody out?’ Carrick asked.

  ‘Won’t work,’ explained Fisher, ‘Glock pistols aren’t ceramic. The Die Hard researchers made a mistake with that. There aren’t any ceramic firearms as it’s too brittle. If a coating of ceramic lets a weapon work then it would give us an advantage.’

  Carrick finished rearranging the bandages.

  ‘You’re done. Let’s see how that works while we wait for the bigwigs and techies to get their heads together.’

  Fisher gently prodded the bandages.

  ‘They’ll come up with something.’

  Satisfied that they were tight he stretched out on the bunk again.

  ‘I wonder how the others are,’ mused Carrick.

  Fisher replied with a series of gentle snores. Carrick looked over.

  ‘Damn, I wish I could do that.’

  *

  The Fort 23rd May

  Carl and Craig sat sullenly in the cell previously occupied by Fisher and Warnett.

  In the chamber outside a heated discussion was taking place be
tween Hildar and Minotaur. Minotaur was hunched over under the low ceiling. Prevented from standing to his full height was making him uncomfortable.

  ‘I want them dead.’ Minotaur stated for what seemed like the thousandth time to Hildar.

  ‘They are more useful alive for the moment. Besides, you know that we need at least one of them to enable the full extent of the plan.’ Hildar’s hearing had returned to normal apart from a slight ringing.

  Minotaur snorted in disgust.

  ‘That is a stupid condition. ‘A human of Atlantian Blood, a human of the world and an outcast only raise Arcanadia together’. I know my history.’

  The creature stalked to the cell and hunched over. He glared through his one good eye at the two men huddled at the back of the cell.

  ‘But do they need to be alive?’ He turned to look again at Hildar.

  ‘Of course they do. You were at the last ceremony. The outsider needs to confirm the decision. These two coming into our hands has saved us the effort of having to hunt them down.’ Hildar paused, looking slyly at Minotaur.

  ‘What is more important, killing a couple of helpless captives or getting revenge on the race that subjugated your kind?’

  Minotaur looked thoughtfully at Hildar.

  ‘Keep these pathetic examples out of my way. I will take revenge on the Greeks.’ He stormed out of the cellblock, taking his accompanying Minoans.

  Hildar drew a deep breath and released it. He paced slowly across to the cell and faced the captives.

  ‘This is how it is going to be,’ he addressed them slowly.

  ‘I only need one of you alive. If you annoy me or give me any trouble I will randomly kill one of you. Do you understand?’

  They nodded quickly.

  ‘There will be no warnings or pleas. One step out of line and…’ He slowly drew his finger across his throat.

  He turned and approached the jailor.

  ‘Nobody is to release them. Nobody at all. Do you understand?’ He leant over them menacingly.

  They nodded quickly.

  Hildar stalked out of the room without a further word.

  Carl and Craig watched the door slam. The jailor returned his feet back onto the desktop and proceeded to ignore them.

 

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