Deadly Apparition

by G. Ernest Smith

  McConnell stood to face him. She guessed him to be about fifty something because of the crow’s feet and the gray in his hair and beard. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. It was the look of the wolf. Predatory. She’d seen it before in men. Men who thought they could have their way with her just because they had bought her dinner or favored her with a compliment and a hungry look. “No, thank you, admiral. What did you want to see me about?” She was beginning to guess.

  “Why do you wear britches, dear? You’re dressed in a man’s clothes!” He walked over and took hold of the black gabardine fabric and pulled at it. “But you’re definitely not a man!”

  McConnell pulled away from him. He uncorked a bottle of wine and began pouring into two ceramic cups. He held out one to her, but she didn’t take it. “Come! Come! It’s quite good.”

  “No thanks.” She stared at him without expression.

  He brought his face up quite close to her. Close enough she could smell his foul breath and see how yellow his teeth were when he smiled at her. He was a little taller than she was. Maybe an inch. She began to calculate the distance to the door. It was either that or the window. She needed an escape route.

  “I think you should disown that ridiculous garb and don something more suitable.”

  “I think I should be getting back to my friends,” said McConnell, taking a cautious step toward the door. “They’re going to miss me.”

  “But you just got here,” said Howard.

  “No, I have to go.”

  She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her roughly by her upper arms, spun her and slammed her against the closed door. “You’ll go when I counsel you to go!”

  McConnell gasped and blinked, stunned. Then she recovered and pushed against him, escaping the admiral’s grip, backing against the table. “You can’t keep me here!” she shouted.

  “But I can,” said Howard. “Who’s going to mount rescue? Your captain? Now shed those ridiculous clothes, so I can behold the glory beneath.”

  “I will not submit to you, Admiral Howard!” said McConnell hotly. She began to circle the table. “Maybe you’re used to getting your way, but not this time.”

  He made a quick move toward her, and she picked up the brass swan lantern and drew back, ready to throw it.

  “Well, my dear,” sighed Howard, resignedly. “You leave me no choice.”

  He left the room and McConnell breathed a sigh of relief and put down the lantern. But he returned seconds later with two men. She recognized them immediately. They were the guards who had come for her in the church.

  “Hold her!” snapped Howard. The two men stepped forward and each seized one of her arms tightly. Howard withdrew a dagger from his waistband and beamed at her saying, “Now, let’s unwrap this tender morsel. Shall we?”

  • • •

  Lieutenant Commander Mason Taylor was a highly trained well disciplined Naval officer, but if he had been a ship, he would say his hull had been holed because an important piece of him was missing. Castillo had entrusted him with the safekeeping of Kansas and her crew, but his heart was somewhere else. Someone he cared for deeply was in danger. He could sense it. When he got the assault teams ready to go, he knew he was going to go with them. At some point, he didn’t know exactly when, he’d made the decision to go. His soul was being pulled by a powerful force.

  The SEAL special equipment locker had enough to equip a twelve man team, so Taylor decided to send twelve. This meant Kansas’s inflatables would be full. There wouldn’t be any room to transport Kansas’s crew. They would have to “borrow” boats to make the evacuation. Each member of the assault team carried an assault rifle, five grenades, communicator, combat knife, 9mm pistol and extra ammo clips and wore black kevlar body armor and helmets. Five people were designated to carry tranquilizer rifles and five others had stun guns and four had helmet cams. They had just about emptied the SEAL special equipment locker.

  Taylor knew that they would be on foot and moving fast so he only wanted the fittest crewmen. He hand picked the team and then picked a likely landing spot away from the estuary. It was to the north about half mile. A spot where the trees came down to the water’s edge. It provided good cover and there wasn’t likely to be anyone there. He didn’t like the idea of a strike in broad daylight, but he felt they couldn’t wait.

  Taylor’s hopes of being unobserved were quickly dashed, however. As they pulled their inflatables in to shore, he saw a man and two boys wading in the shallows. They had been catching something in a net. They immediately stopped what they were doing and watched curiously as the black clad invaders came in. They made no move to flee, but Taylor decided to leave a man behind to watch the boats and their observers.

  • • •

  Drake decided to go see Castillo. He had to talk to him and try to head off what was about to happen. When he got to the church, he exited his coach, and the guards at the front door stepped aside. Drake went in, then bellowed, “Gods boots!”

  The guards entered behind Drake and stared dumbfounded at the room. It was empty except for the two bound guards laying in the aisle.

  These people were difficult to contain, thought Drake. They were extremely resourceful. “Well, where are they?” he demanded.

  “They didn’t get past us,” assured a front door guard.

  “I may as well have posted blind monkeys!” bellowed Drake. “Howard will explode! Better find them!”

  They freed the two bound guards and soon found two admiralty aides laying behind the church, bound also.

  “I think they went to the admiral’s quarters, sir,” said one aide.

  Drake turned to the guards standing behind him. “Get to Howard’s quarters immediately!”

  • • •

  Crystal McConnell was weeping uncontrollably. She was being held tightly by two rough-looking men and almost all her clothes had been cut away. All she was wearing was her white cotton panties and her brassiere. Howard was running his finger around the inside of her panties. He had never seen an undergarment like this. He was more accustomed to the heavy knickers worn by his wife and the chamber maids. And he was astounded at the brassiere. He plucked at it experimentally.

  “What is this?” he asked. But he got no answer, only sobbing. “I asked you a question!” he roared. When he got only sobbing again, he backhanded her, snapping her head around from the force of the blow.

  Then he ran his hand down her flat white stomach. Her warm smooth unblemished skin was like satin to touch. The fires of lust ignited in him. He tried to put his mouth on hers, but she turned away. He grabbed two handfuls of her hair and held her head still as he pressed his lips to hers then began probing her mouth with his tongue. She shuddered and squirmed trying desperately to pull away.

  “Ow!” screamed Howard. “She bit me!” He reached up and touched his sore tongue. Then he gave her another vicious backhand, staggering her.

  Howard turned her face toward him. She looked at him with her tear-streaked face then, smiled and said, “Oh thank you, God! Thank you! Thank you!”

  Howard frowned at this. Then he realized she was looking beyond him at something in the doorway. He turned to see Castillo and three others in the doorway. Castillo and the oriental looking one next to him were carrying swords.

  “What are you going to do, commander? Match swords with us? These are two of the best swordsmen in the land.”

  “No,” said Castillo. “I’m not.” He stepped aside, pointed and another man threw a pewter ball very forcefully hitting the left guard in the forehead. He collapsed. “Release her now, admiral, or you’ll be next.”

  Admiral Howard’s shocked eyes went to his stricken guard, then slowly back at Castillo. Howard nodded to the guard. The guard let go of her and McConnell ran sobbing to Lambert who shrugged out of her yellow pantsuit jacket and draped it around her, then wrapped her in her arms.

  “What should we do with Admiral Howard, Crystal?” asked Castillo. “Should we maybe u
se him as a punching bag?”

  Howard huffed disdainfully and McConnell looked at him with hateful wet eyes.

  “I must say,” said Castillo. “You’re not a very good host, admiral. You’ve lied to us, imprisoned us and then…” Castillo gestured to McConnell.

  Howard glanced out the window and said, “Where are the rest of you?”

  “I sent them away. Out of your clutches.”

  “I want to go,” sniffed McConnell.

  “As you wish,” said Castillo. “Let’s go!” They started to turn around.

  “Stop!” commanded Howard.

  Castillo heard a click behind him. It was the sound a hammer makes when it’s cocked on a firearm. Down through the centuries firearms have gone through many developmental modifications, but that sound has stayed unchanged and is universally recognized. The chilling sound of a firearm being cocked and readied to fire. When he turned to look, he saw three guards with pistols leveled. He could see the faint trails of smoke coming from the lit matches. They were primed to fire.

  Howard sneered at Castillo. “Don’t leave, commander. I insist.” He pointed a finger at the man who had thrown the ball and said, “Kill him!” The guard standing behind him fired.

  POP!

  The man’s mouth and eyes opened wide in surprise, he clutched at his chest and fell face forward down on the floor. There was a stain of blood spreading in the middle of his back.

  Chapter 20

  “They were here,” said Chief Brown. “Look what I found.” He held up a burlap bag.

  The Kansas assault team was standing in the sanctuary of the large Anglican church, but it was empty.

  Taylor took the bag, looked inside and saw a collection of purses, wallets and pocket knives. “They were here alright.” He looked out the front door where the rest of the team was assembled. “I wonder where they went.”

  “Dunno, sir. Let’s see if we can pick up the scent.”

  “Okay. Take the bag along. Some people might want their stuff back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  • • •

  Castillo felt Deangelo’s neck for a pulse. Nothing. He stood and faced Howard with stormy eyes. “You son of a bitch! You’re going to pay for that, admiral!”

  Howard appeared to be unconcerned. “Now that your…throwing man has been subtracted, I would that you return your ship.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Oh, I think t’will,” said Howard coldly. “Hold him.” Guards stepped up and took Castillo by both arms. Howard cut away Castillo’s white uniform shirt exposing his scarred chest. “Behold! What’s this?” he asked, looking at the fresh wounds and ugly purple burns.

  “Go ahead, admiral. Do your worst! I’ve been through this before.”

  “I can see. Who visited this upon you?”

  Castillo said nothing.

  Howard looked around and spying a corkscrew, picked it up. Smiling viciously, he pressed it into the left side of Castillo’s chest until it pierced him, then he began to slowly turn it, screwing it in. Castillo tightened the cords in his neck against the pain and hardened his arms and fists. Howard continued to turn it.

  “Stop this!” shouted Lambert. She looked as if she were the one being tortured.

  “Only he can make it stop,” said Howard. He screwed the device half way into Castillo’s chest and Castillo had clamped his mouth and eyes shut tightly against the sharp stabbing pain but had not uttered a sound. He struggled to breathe and fought against nausea, but at the same time, he was struck with a sudden epiphany. He saw with absolute clarity that he could hold out against any amount of pain this man could offer because he had a reason. The best of reasons. He had to protect his ship and his crew, and there was no amount of pain he could not withstand for his people. His crew would do anything for him and he could endure anything for them and do it proudly. He clenched his teeth, opened his eyes and gave Howard the full force of his defiant hateful stare.

  Howard got the message and stopped. He took Castillo’s measure and determined that this was not going to work. He needed something better. He caught the look in Lambert’s eyes and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him.

  “I think I’ll kill this one,” said Howard, pulling his dagger. He held her in front of him with the dagger to her throat. “Do you have anything to say about that, commander?”

  Castillo stared into Lambert’s glistening blue eyes and felt more helpless than he’d ever felt before. He did not feel as defiant now. The game had changed. “This is not going to work, admiral. You’ve tried to bend us to your will and failed.”

  “Tis not a failure yet.” He stuck the tip of the knife into Lambert’s neck until it penetrated about an inch, and blood began to run down her neck. Lambert gave out a whimpering sob, tears made trails down her face.

  Howard had discovered Castillo’s weakness. He couldn’t bear to see Susan hurt. “Okay!” yelled Castillo. “You win! I’ll get my ship back here.”

  “No, Don,” cried Lambert. “You can’t.”

  “Good,” said Howard. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

  “I need my communicator. Do you have it?”

  “No,” said Howard. “It’s at the church.”

  “Better go get it, admiral,” said Tanaka.

  “We’ll all go,” said Howard, and then to one of his men. “Get the coaches…and get more men. Find the rest of these people.”

  • • •

  Wally Anderson was leading 41 people back to the ship. There was just one problem. He had no idea how they were going to get back. He thought it best to stay off the road so they wouldn’t run into any soldiers. They followed a drainage ditch, skirting oak trees and small bushes and made their way back to the cove. It became obvious some of them knew nothing about stealth as they crashed through the underbrush, tripping on roots and cursing. Those wearing Navy whites were now besmirched with dirt and grass stain.

  Anderson conferred with several others and decided the best thing to do would be to steal a couple boats and start ferrying the group out into the channel. Kansas would be sure to see them. Castillo had said to be on the lookout. The XO would probably send an extraction team. But he hadn’t seen anyone so far.

  They went as far as they could, right down to the water’s edge. “Now we need boats,” said Anderson.

  “There are boats just on the other side of that rise, sir,” said Petty Officer Grogan pointing to the right.

  “I know,” said Anderson. “And armed men.” He looked up to where the elevated road started. He could see horses, men and what looked like cannon pointing toward the cove. “I wish we had some weapons.”

  “We better move everyone back into the trees before we’re seen, sir.”

  “Yes. Good idea.”

  They all began to move toward the tree line but someone tripped and swore. A soldier on the road turned and saw them, then there were two soldiers watching them, then five.

  “Oh no,” said Anderson. “We’ve been noticed.”

  There were ten soldiers running on the road now and seven of them had rifles.

  “Get these people moving north, Grogan,” said Anderson. “Away from the cove. Fast!”

  “Come on, people,” screamed Grogan. “Move!” He started pointing north.

  • • •

  Mason Taylor had left a man to guard the inflatables and keep an eye on the nearby observers. He was Lieutenant JG Trent Kenaston, and he was watching them intently. They appeared to be a father and two adolescent sons catching something in a cast net. After each cast they would haul in their net and pluck small things out of it and deposit them into a large basket strapped to the father. What were they netting? Shellfish?

  They at first had stopped and watched as the strange intruders came ashore, but now seemed to be back at their task of netting and collecting. They wore long white shirts and had bare legs and had expressions of concentration on their faces.

  Kenaston itched at his chin. After days
of growing facial hair he had only blond peach fuzz to show for it. What’s worse, his face was kind of round…like a peach. He just knew someone was going to hang the name peaches on him sooner or later.

  He heard the sharp report of shots! At least three of them! It was to the south of him. The other three heard it too. They all were looking south. Kenaston got up on a root ball of a tree. It was the highest platform he could find. He needed elevation. When he looked to the south, he could see men running. They were wearing Navy whites! It was Kansas crewmen! He jumped off his perch and began running through the tall dune grass toward them.

  Then he heard three more shots and realized they were being pursued.

  • • •

  “Coaches are coming!” shouted Chief Brown.

  “Everyone out of sight!” barked Taylor.

  One massive oak door to the church entrance was open and one closed. Taylor ducked behind the closed one along with two other men. The rest hid behind the church and in the cemetery.

  Taylor watched as the occupants of the two coaches emerged. There were several guards, and someone wearing a cape and a fancy black hat with a gold emblem on it. He saw Castillo! His shirt was in tatters and he was bleeding from a chest wound. Tanaka! Lambert was bleeding too from the neck. And…he had mixed emotions as he gazed on Crystal. He was so glad to see her, but she was almost naked and her beautiful face was swollen and red on the right side. Who had done this to her?

  Suddenly his communicator came alive.

  “XO, this is Kenaston back on the beach. I’ve found the crew, they’re heading this way…”

  “That’s good, Trent. Tell them to stay there until we get back…”

  “…but, sir…they’re being chased! It looks like a whole rifle company’s after them!”

  “Shit! Okay, hang on! I’m sending help right away.” He looked around for Chief Brown. Not seeing him, he said into his headset. “Take five men, chief, and get back to the beach, pronto. Kenaston needs help.”

  “Yes, sir. I heard.” Taylor could hear Brown calling out names over the comm net and ordering them to follow.