“So…if you want something, you take it. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t belong to you?”
“Success goes to the strong,” said Howard, “and victory to the bold.”
“You didn’t look that strong or bold against the Armada,” stormed Castillo. “If we hadn’t been there to oppose them, you’d be fighting the Spanish right now in the heart of London.”
They had nothing to say to this.
“What happens to my crew?”
“We’ll keep necessary crew at their posts,” said Drake. “The others will be settled just as you wished.”
“You have some rather handsome women with you, commander,” snickered Howard. “I can guess their function.”
Castillo knew who Howard was fancying. The old lech!
Drake stepped forward and handed Castillo the communicator and said, “Tell your second they’re to welcome guests aboard. As I hear from my man that they’re safely aboard, I’ll let you see your people.”
“And if I don’t.”
“We hold your people, commander,” responded Howard. The implied threat was in his voice. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Stupid? You intend to take over my ship and force my people at gunpoint to kill Spanish for you. That sounds like a very short-sighted and ill conceived prospect at best. What happens when we run out of weapons? What happens when the crew has had enough abuse and flatly refuses you? I know my crew and this will happen. You’re going to need about a hundred people to operate that ship. Who’s being stupid?” Castillo could tell he had touched on some points not previously considered. There were some uneasy looks shared between the conspirators.
“We know you’ll impress upon them, commander,” said Howard. “because you’d hate to see something befall your people here.”
Castillo afixed the communicator to his ear, turned it on and said, “Mase, we have a problem.”
“Let me guess,” came Taylor’s sarcastic voice. “Some bad people are making demands of you.”
“Yes,” sighed Castillo. “And you’re right. I’m too trusting, and it’s going to get me killed one day. Maybe today!”
“Brevity, please,” said Drake.
“You’re going to get some visitors. Once they’re on board, they’ll tell Drake, and he’ll release everyone.”
“Okay,” said Taylor, “here’s what we’re going to do…”
Abruptly Drake reached across and yanked the communicator out of Castillo’s ear. “Well, done, commander.”
• • •
“Hello…Don…,” said Taylor. “Are you still there?”
Nothing.
“Shit!” Taylor slammed down the receiver. “We’re going to have visitors, folks. I want us to be ready to receive them properly.”
“Look!” said Lieutenant Unger, pointing at one of the camera screens. Night vision showed large draft horses were coming down the access road being led by soldiers. They were drawing field cannon. The large wheels of the cannon bounced in the ruts and jostled the heavy guns. There were five of them and they were being followed by horses drawing two large wagons.
“Great!” said Taylor. He was in the command chair in the control room. “It sounds like they’re holding our shore team hostage.” He began looking around to see who was available. Anderson was with the shore team, so was Tanaka, Simms, Gastmeyer, Lambert, McConnell. He looked at the weapons station to his right and saw Chief Greg Brown.
“COB, we can’t allow those cannon to threaten us. I don’t know how much harm they would do to us. They’re larger than the shipboard guns.”
“They wouldn’t try to destroy the ship if they needed it, would they, sir?” asked Chief Brown.
“I don’t know what these psychos might do.”
Brown interlaced his fingers and flexed his arms, palms outward. The fabric of his shirt was stressed by the bulge of his mammoth biceps. “Well, sir, I could take a team up there and take out those guns.”
“Yes, I’m sure you could, chief, but they’d likely bring in more. We’ve got to trick them, some how.” Taylor watched the parade on screen come to a stop on the road. Soldiers began to back the cannon into position, pointing toward Kansas. “Could you go sneak a look at those cannon, chief. With an eye toward sabotage.”
“Sure!”
“Pick a couple people. Take some weapons, just in case.”
“On it,” said Brown, springing out of his chair.
• • •
When the inflatable was ready, Chief Brown and his small team silently launched into the night. They were not noticed by anyone on shore because they launched toward the opposite shore shielded from watchers by the bulk of Kansas. They beached their small craft, then made their way inside the tree line to the head of the estuary where they could cross a small stream and come up the other side. Brown was a hefty man but he knew how to move with stealth. He and his team moved from tree to tree and stopped when they were within 100 yards.
Brown took out his binoculars and switched them on. The blackness of the night bloomed green in his eyepieces. He could see men moving about the big guns and leading horses away.
“Are you seeing this, sir?”
“Yes, chief,” came Taylor’s voice in his ear.
• • •
Taylor was looking at a night vision view of the five cannon and soldiers along the road. He could also see Chief Brown’s helmet cam on the left screen with a much closer view of the cannon and wagons and soldiers.
“Someone’s coming, sir,” said Lieutenant Guerrero. “Look!”
On one of the photonics camera screens was a small boat pushing off from the dock. There were nine men in it, four had oars.
“These are probably our baby-sitters,” said Taylor. “Bud, why don’t you go up and meet them.”
“Sure,” said Unger, “But what do I tell them?”
“Just escort them down.”
“Yes, sir.” Unger went up the access hatch on the aft deck to meet the small boat. He could not believe what he was seeing. There were four oarsman and five soldiers in the boat. The soldiers were all wearing armor made of steel or bronze. The armor was quite bulky and covered their torsos. They looked like a family of turtles. They also were wearing helmets with broad brims and a crest that ran down the crown. Two of the soldiers were carrying eight foot pikes, and two were carrying longbows. Unger caught the boat’s bow line and secured it to a deck cleat, then watched them struggle to get out of the boat in their heavy armor. They staggered against each other in the moving boat, and one nearly went into the water when he stepped onto Kansas’s sloping deck. Eventually they made their way to Unger. The man without weapons had an emblem of some kind on the breastplate of his armor. It looked like a gold and silver coat of arms. His pale face was bony and sported a gray beard.
“Colonel Ashton,” he announced. “Here to take command of the ship.” He handed Unger a folded sheet of paper. “My commission.”
Unger accepted the paper and looked it over. It was some kind of official document with seals and signatures.
“You’re going to have to leave your armor and weapons here,” said Unger, adjusting his pewter framed glasses. “This is a submarine.”
The men exchanged looks, then the leader said, “We care not your rules and practices. We keep our weapons…and armor.”
“Okay,” shrugged Unger. “I’ll take you to our commander. Follow me.” Unger walked to the hatch and descended the ladder.
The first soldier walked up to the hatch and looked down suspiciously. After a moment of indecision, he decided it looked safe enough. He stepped onto the ladder and descended one step and his turtle shell armor wedged at its widest point in the opening. He climbed free of the hole, turned sideways and tried again. No good. He tried to forcefully slam his body through the hole with a great grunt and a clang.
The soldier squirmed and wiggled but soon found himself wedged solid. He could go neither up nor down. Two other soldiers each took a hand and
began to pull but to no avail. A third soldier joined in and began pulling on the first one’s head. The first soldier began swearing and bellowing until finally he popped loose. The three soldiers hauled him up onto his feet, and there was momentarily some accusations and finger-pointing, then the colonel stepped in and ordered them all to shed their armor. They piled their helmets and armor on the deck along with most of their weapons. They kept their daggers and the two matchlock pistols they’d brought with them. They were wearing slate muslin shirts with billowy sleeves and loose bloused brown trousers tucked into tall black silver-buckled boots.
When they got to the bottom of the access ladder, Unger was waiting on them, looking slightly bored. He gave the colonel a look that said I told you so then turned and led them to the control room.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Taylor,” said Unger, then gesturing to the soldiers, “Colonel Ashton and company.” Unger noticed that all the viewing screens were dark.
Ashton had to look up at Taylor, who was taller. He frowned and said, “You’re in command?”
“Yes. I’m the acting commander.”
Ashton cast his brown eyes around the room at the bewildering array of status screens. “But you’re a…”
“I’m a what?” asked Taylor. There was a chill in his voice.
Ashton held his gaze for long seconds, then, “I have to send word to Admiral Drake. He said you’d know how to do it. Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” responded Taylor slowly. He nodded to Unger.
“And I want all of your weapons.”
• • •
“How long do we have to stay here?” asked Lambert.
“For as long as they tell us,” said Tanaka.
“Or until Don comes for us,” said McConnell sadly.
They were sitting in the front church pews, watching guards search everybody. Four guards had herded everyone to the back of the sanctuary, then searched each person. As they were released, the crewmen were escorted to the front pews near the altar. The guards confiscated anything that looked like a communicator or weapon. They took purses, wallets, knives, watches anything that looked like it could be dangerous. No one on Kansas had thought it necessary to issue sidearms, but now that seemed a woeful oversight.
“I imagine they’re making their demands to Castillo right now,” said Anderson. “They’re using us for leverage.”
“Bastards!” scoffed Tanaka. He and all the other U.S. Navy personnel were in dress whites and with the exception of the stubble on their faces looked like navy. “I have a Leatherman.”
“A what?” asked Lambert.
“A Leatherman. You know. One of those transformer things that makes into needle-nose pliers and a screwdriver and a saw and a knife. I stuck it in my sock when I saw them searching everyone.”
“Good thinking,” said Anderson. “It’s better than nothing. I should have done that with my Swiss Army knife.”
Tanaka looked around the sanctuary, and noticed a door to the left of the altar and what looked like a doorway on the right. “I’m going to go exploring. We need to find another way out of here.” He stretched and stood, looking to see if he was being observed.
“That’s a good idea,” said Anderson. He stood, and scratching at his blond beard, began to slowly saunter toward the right wall of the room.
• • •
Drake stormed up to Castillo. “I just heard from my man, Ashton. He said he is aboard your ship and was presented to a negroid who claimed to be in charge. Explain yourself, commander!”
Castillo said nothing.
“I warn you, Castillo. If you’re trying to usurp my authority, you’ll be held accountable. You’re part of the Royal Navy now, no mistake! And the penalty for mutiny is hanging! We will not hesitate to make an example of you.”
“Go ahead and hang me then,” said Castillo without emotion.
Drake studied Castillo’s face and saw something there. A willingness to sacrifice himself for his country and crew. “No, not you. I think one of your people.”
Would he? Castillo felt a sudden chill. “Admiral, there is no way you’re going to pull this off. You are out of your depth here. You’re dealing with technology you know nothing about. A hundred different things can go wrong. People are going to be killed or badly injured in this reckless gamble.”
This didn’t seem to hold any sway with Drake. “Do you tell me this African is in charge of your ship?”
“Not only is Lieutenant Commander Taylor, the African, in charge, he is smarter than anyone you can send against him. He’s been ordered to take the ship to safety and that’s just what he’ll do. He’s very resourceful. You can’t stop him.”
“You sacrifice yourself and all your people here to deny us your ship?”
Castillo gave Drake an icy stare. “What do you think?” Drake seemed taken aback by this. “There are some weapons so powerful, so destructive, admiral, they can’t be allowed to fall into unconscionable hands. Our lives are insignificant compared to the destruction you could so casually inflict with such a weapon.”
It was Drake’s turn to say nothing.
“I used to respect you, admiral. Your name is in our history books. You’re a great man, they said. Sir Francis Drake! An explorer, a statesman, a war hero, a man of integrity. I’m very disappointed, admiral.” Castillo paused, looking at the massive locked front doors of the Anglican church. “I expected something like this from the short-sighted power-hungry men surrounding you. They’re more concerned with career advancement and power than the welfare and rights of people. But I expected more from you.”
Drake scowled and looked at the church.
• • •
“These are our weapons,” said Taylor, sliding open the doors to Kansas’s weapons locker. There was a row of vertical assault rifles and sidearms.
Ashton reached out and tentatively touched one, a look of awe on his face. Then he took one from the rack and turned it over in his hands. “How does it work?”
Taylor pulled out a tray in the locker and picked up a clip. “The bullets go in here. It fits into the gun here.” He took the rifle and slammed the clip into the bottom of the gun. “But these are specially made rifles. They will not fire inside this ship. Too dangerous. See?” He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened because a round was not chambered and the safety was set. He didn’t see any reason why he should arm these men beyond what they already had.
Taylor put the rifle back in the locker, slid the doors closed and locked them. Ashton held out his open palm and Taylor put the key in it.
They went back to the control room where they sat staring at each other. Colonel Ashton and his soldiers had searched the control room and crew for weapons. The English soldiers were rough-looking bearded men. Many of the Kansas crew were bearded too, but they had only been working on it for about three weeks. The best Taylor could do was a face full of scraggly black stubble, his bald head was not as bald, however. It had a thin carpet of black hair peppered with gray. He’d stopped shaving that too. Unger’s beard had grown in thick and heavily peppered with gray to his surprise. It was a contrast to his thick wavy black hair and made him look much older than his twenty five years.
When Chief Brown showed up, the English soldiers jumped. “Where has this one been?” demanded Ashton.
“Who me?” asked Brown, quickly grasping the situation. “I was up in the sail, doing inventory.”
“Yes,” said Taylor. “I forgot to mention him.” Taylor could tell the English soldiers were surprised by the appearance of Brown. The fact that he had the build of a bodybuilder did not help.
“Search him,” said Ashton.
“Now, just wait a minute,” snapped Brown. “What’s going on here?” He took a step back.
At this two of the men took out small metal boxes and began doing something with cord. Taylor could smell smoke over the stench of the men. When the men squared themselves and leveled their pistols, Taylor could see that the matches had
been lit in the matchlocks and the guns were ready to fire.
Taylor stood up and said, “Okay, I’ve tolerated this for about as long as I can.”
Without moving any other part of his body, Unger reached his right hand under his control station just above his knees and gripped a small device that looked like a soldering gun.
“Sit down,” ordered Ashton. “I’m in command here.”
“I think it’s time to neutralize the situation.”
Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap!
At the word neutralize Unger and three other crewmen drew and fired tasers at the soldiers. The soldiers all did a spastic dance, their eyes wide.
POW!
One of the matchlocks fired when the soldier twitched his trigger finger. Then the men collapsed to the floor in full seizure.
“What have you done?” demanded the colonel. “This is an outrage!”
“It certainly is,” said Taylor. “But it stops now.” Then to Unger he said, “Let’s tie these guys up and…” But Unger didn’t hear him. The lieutenant’s gray eyes were open, but they weren’t seeing anything. There was a hole in his right temple and a trickle of blood oozing from it. “Fuck!” cried Taylor.
Lieutenant Guerrero dropped her taser and ran to Unger. “Oh no,” she sobbed. “Bud!”
The other crewmen set about angrily zip-tying and gagging the disabled men and removing their weapons.
Colonel Ashton huffed and shouted, “My superiors will hear about this!”
Before Taylor could respond, Chief Brown had the colonel’s throat in his big hands, lifting him off his feet. “Listen, you asshole!” he snarled. “You just killed one of my friends. He was worth a hundred of you! Give me a good reason I shouldn’t put an end to you right now!”
The colonel’s face was filled with open-mouthed terror. He was trying to pry Brown’s hands off him and turning the color of a plum. His eyes bulged and his lips were moving, but nothing was coming out but gagging noises.
Taylor decided to put an end to it. “Let him go, chief. Zip him up and put him with the others.” Chief Brown seemed not to hear him, so he repeated himself more forcefully, “Let him go, chief!” He tapped Brown on the shoulder.
Deadly Apparition Page 23
