Wake heard a knock at the door.
“Sir? Surgeon’s mate Pullwood as ordered.”
“Come back in five minutes, Pullwood.” Wake returned his attention to Terrington, now curled up in the berth.
“Parker, when did you know Presley was the pirate we were sent here to stop?”
“I suspected it was him when I heard the stories and read an article in Washington. I hoped it wasn’t, but had this feeling it was.”
“Why didn’t you tell them?” Wake asked, but instantly knew the answer.
Terrington looked at him. “It was a command. I waited for years and finally got a ship of my own. I couldn’t let them know. I still can’t. They’ll take my ship from me. They can’t know. . . .”
“The laudanum, Parker. When did that start?”
Terrington suddenly sat up, wary, his eyes darting toward the door, then to the skylight overhead.
“What do you mean? This is just medicine. I take medicine.”
“You take it all the time. You’re an addict, Parker. And you mix it with rum. You are out of control and unable to function as a naval officer, much less a ship commander. Now when and how did this start?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Terrington said indignantly, his chest inflating.
“You are a drug addict! Don’t lie to yourself. You know what you are and that you need help. When did you start taking laudanum?”
Terrington’s body drooped again. “Back in sixty-four, on that damned tub I was assigned to. Hell, we were all drinking rum in the wardroom. Some of them were lacing it with laudanum, let me try. Dulled the heartache when we were feeling lonely. Then it got to where we would meet off watch and just take a little laudanum to get to sleep. Every day.”
“And ever since.” added Wake.
“Yeah, and ever since.”
Wake thought it was time to tell him what was about to happen. “We are going into an area of small islands after the pirates in just a few minutes. I am now in command and will tell everyone you are incapacitated by illness and that I have relieved you. You need to stay here. The surgeon’s mate will come in, make you comfortable and watch over you, unless he is needed for any wounded. Do you understand that?”
The answer came in a sigh. “Yes.”
“Parker, I will do everything I can to help you, and help your reputation and career. Now stay here and rest.”
Wake didn’t receive a reply, just a vacant nod of Terrington’s head. He left the man still slumped on the bed, staring out the stern gallery windows at the sea.
Pullwood was in the passageway when Wake came out.
“Pullwood, the captain is very sick and has been for some time. Hallucinative and invalided. I have relieved him of command. Go in there and get him comfortable in bed. You may give him a sedative, but not too much. He’s already had some laudanum. Stay with him for a while. We may go to action stations if we sight the pirates, but until then stay with Captain Terrington.”
Pullwood’s acknowledgment was nonchalant. Probably trying to listen at the door, guessed Wake as he turned to ascend the ladder to the main deck. He stopped and asked Pullwood, “Were you treating the captain for any illness?”
“No, sir.”
“Did he use any of your medicines?”
“Why no, sir.”
Pullwood’s attitude bothered Wake. The man wasn’t acting surprised at all. “Very well. Lock the door to his cabin when you leave him, Pullwood. I don’t want him to accidentally wander around. He could get hurt that way when we’re in action. Understood clearly?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
***
Cadena woke up when a shot of fire went through his back as he tried to roll over. He was covered by a canvas tarpaulin but still shivering cold. The sky above him was gray which meant he had lived until dawn. I will live long enough to see these bastards in their graves, he vowed.
The gringo walked up minutes later. “You’re stupid as all hell, but you’re also tough, Cadena. I’ll give you that. I’ve decided to let you live, if you can recover from that big friggin’ hole you’ve got in your back.”
Cadena then heard him say to someone, “Get him below to his cabin and patch him up. I want him standing watch in three days.”
Cadena summoned his strength and asked, “Where are we, Jefe?”
“Headed back to our old hunting grounds, Cadena. Bound nor’west to the Moskito coast.”
31
The Needle in the Haystack
Wake spoke to the assembled officers quickly, the lantern suspended from the overhead swaying its dim light around his cramped cabin.
“Gentlemen, we don’t have much time, so let me be brief. I have just relieved Captain Terrington from command due to his incapacitating illness that has required him to use sedatives.”
Wake paused, expecting questions or at least a reaction of some sort, but the officers said nothing, maintaining a neutral mien. The only sound was the creaking of the ship as Wake continued.
“He will stay in bed in his cabin. Pullwood is with him now. When we complete our mission we will put him ashore at the first American naval station with a hospital.
“Now, as we discussed last night, very shortly we’ll enter the San Blas Islands, here at Iskardup, then work our way west toward Cayo Holandes. Sirena is to our west, Plover is to our east. Remember, if you hear any gunfire, pinpoint it and immediately head that way. Don’t wait for orders, just do it right away.
“When we do come into contact with them, we treat them as we would any enemy—taking no chances at all. They are very dangerous and have no sense of decency or honor. Understood?”
All the heads nodded assent, some of the junior officers commenting among themselves.
“All right then, any questions?”
Moe held up a hand, then winced as an elbow jammed into his ribs. “Hey, he asked,” he said to someone near him.
Wake said, “Go ahead, Ensign Moe. Never worry about asking questions. It could save lives later.”
“Ah, sir, what do we call you now? Captain?”
“That’s a good question, Ensign. No, don’t call me captain. Continue as you were. And continue as you were with Lieutenant Commander Terrington by calling him captain. He will be shown the utmost respect and deference.”
***
The sayla was pleased. Everything was completed. No sign of the monsters was left on the island. Parts of the hull of the big boat were still in the clear shallow water but would be removed later in the day after everyone rested.
Surrounded by the elders, he sang a final song of praise. Then they all paddled their cayucas away from the island, which would forever be proudly known as NuuIbeorgunDup, the island of the great prophet’s worms. The sayla hoped the zambo people would be pleased.
***
“They were here, all right. Look at the debris. Good Lord, look at the rum bottles,” exclaimed Connery as he surveyed the beach where the pirates had erected a crude camp for several weeks. Hundreds of rum bottles were strewn everywhere. Among the debris was a broken china plate, bearing the name of Captain Phillip Underhill, late of the Colón American.
“Not long gone, sir,” called out gunner Durling in a low voice to Connery. “This fire’s coals’re still warm. Less than ten hours, I’m thinking.”
“Such a sad waste o’ rum, on scum such as them. More’s the pity,” lamented Rork, shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun. Rifle in hand, he was leading the landing party around the island searching for clues about the pirates. They found nothing living anywhere.
Wake landed moments later in the gig. After walking through the abandoned camp he called Connery and the petty officers over.
“Mr. Connery, I want well-armed boat parties to take every ship’s boat we have
and check all of the surrounding islands. I want that done immediately and completed by two hours from now. Then we’ll weigh anchor and meet the other ships. Signal by gunfire that we have found the pirates’ camp.”
The chorus of “aye, ayes” was followed with shouts to the men to return to the ship and get ready to shove off for more searches.
***
Cadena climbed the ladder up to the deck, semi-drunk from rum to dull the pain. The sun glared into his eyes, worsening his headache. The gringo was standing in the shade of the boom awning. Behind them steamed their old original ship, the one with no name.
“So Cadena, you’re alive? Oh yeah, now I remember. It’s only the good that die young.”
“Yes, Jefe. I am still alive. It is good to be alive.”
“There’s a bunch of our men that don’t have that benefit because of you, fool.”
“I was surprised by Indian warriors. It was a trap. I will not fail you again, Jefe.”
“We’re going to be at the Moskito coast in three days, Cadena. I want you in charge over there on the old steamer tomorrow and I want you ready to do what I tell you. You fail again and I will personally rip your guts out and watch you die.”
“I comprehend, Jefe,” said Cadena, averting his eyes lest they give away his thoughts. And someday when I am strong again, Cadena pledged, I will cut your throat and watch you drown in your own blood, you self-centered dog.
***
“You searched the surrounding islands and that was all you found? Nothing on the little island next to it, you say?” asked Russell.
“No, sir, nothing. Just the remnants of the hulk in the water. The char marks looked very recent. We checked everywhere close by, but found absolutely nothing. I have no idea where the rest of the vessel is. She’s stripped, but I don’t know what they did with what they took. Looks like maybe a schooner, but most of it’s gone,” reported Wake to the others standing around a table in Russell’s cabin, each man drinking a glass of Royal Navy port wine. The three naval ships had rendezvoused at Cayo Holandes that afternoon. Sirena and Plover reported finding nothing in their sectors.
Kramer rubbed his chin. “The Cuna probably will never talk about this, if they were involved, but it has the sound of a Cuna attack. They leave nothing of their enemies. Maybe the pirates tried to raid the island.”
“Bows and arrows against pirates’ guns?” asked Monteblanco. “They must have lost many warriors.”
“Yes, I would imagine they did. Well, the main question is where are the pirates now,” said Russell. “We seem to be consistently one step behind them. We must find them. Where will they go now?”
A chart of the lower Caribbean was spread out on the table. Toledo leaned forward and spoke in Spanish, Monteblanco translating.
“Gentlemen, I propose that they will not go east toward Cartagena, since they are well aware Canton has been searching in that area. Nor will they stay here on the coast where the Cuna are evidently already angry at them. They will not go west since they know that coast is alerted because of the attack on Porto Bello. They were not welcome at all in Costa Rica either. I think that leaves north, my friends.”
“North where?” asked Wake.
Toledo raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe the little islands we searched off Nicaragua. Maybe the Moskito coast itself. Many of the people there were supportive, I think. The pirate leader was careful to attack shipping along the coast there, but not to actually raid the villages. I think he wanted to keep it as an area of refuge. But, of course, it is all merely my conjecture.”
“Mr. Kramer, can the Colón American burn wood if she can’t find coal?” inquired Wake.
“Yes, she sometimes had to do that, but Captain Underhill hated it because of the fouling it would do in the flumes of the boilers. It affected their efficiency greatly, and the wood burned much faster than coal does. Their range was therefore much shorter.”
Wake thought about the distances on the chart. “I think Captain Toledo is correct. I think they are low on coal. Remember, that ship normally coals at Jamaica on her route north to the States. She steams fast and uses it fast. The pirates probably don’t have enough coal to go anywhere far and there weren’t many trees on these islands suitable for a steam ship to consume.”
“What about Jamaica? Might they head there?” asked Russell, prompting everyone to look over at that area of the chart.
“Too far,” said Wake. “At least nonstop. They could get there if they refueled with wood at Moskito coast though.”
Russell exhaled a long breath. “Then it’s Nicaragua for us. They have a day’s head start, but when they get wherever they’re heading they’ll be staying for a few days to find fueling wood, so with luck we can find and engage them.”
Russell asked if all the naval vessels still had sufficient coal after topping off their bunkers at Colón and was told that they did.
“Search pattern as we did on this coast, each ship ten or fifteen miles apart?” asked Kramer. “By the way, I’m staying with you gentlemen.” He grinned at Toledo and shrugged his shoulders. “I might be able to help. Who knows?”
“Very well, John. We’re glad to have you. The search? Yes, but farther apart. There’s more coast to search,” said Russell as he spread the dividers along the coastline of Nicaragua and compared it to the latitude scale. “Two hundred miles from Cabo Gracias a Dios down to Monkey Point. That gives each of us sixty-five miles. We’ll be on our own if we confront them.”
“We were before when we searched that coast two weeks ago,” commented Toledo after the plan was translated, still wondering what the Englishman’s real motives were on that coast.
In the end they decided to do it—steam directly for Old Providence Island, rendezvous one last time, then search the Moskito coast. The Spanish would take the northern part, the Americans the central, and the British the southern section.
Then Wake took advantage of a lull, drew in a deep breath and told the others about his relief of Terrington. He explained that Terrington’s illness had incapacitated him and he had been resting in his cabin since then. Wake added that he had prepared a report to his superiors and was sending it via Colón and Jamaica. They quietly listened, each knowing exactly the legal danger Wake had entered.
“Yes, well, good luck on that endeavor, Lieutenant Wake,” said Russell with a concerned look. “It is a very serious step to take, but it sounds like it was necessary.”
“It was,” Monteblanco added in support of his American friend. “Captain Terrington was extremely unwell.”
Russell straightened up from the chart. “And now, we’ll be on our way, gentlemen. Before we do, I propose a toast.”
All the men raised their glasses and looked at the Englishman.
“Gentlemen, to the wide Caribbean Sea. May God help us find the needle in that haystack.”
32
Sea Lawyers and White Mice
July 1869
The three ships rolled in the swells at Bahía Santa Catalina on the northwest coast of Old Providence Island. Officers from each ship were ashore buying fruit and vegetables, knowing this might be the last chance to stock their ship’s larder.
The meeting in Russell’s cabin was brief, just a last minute confirmation of the plan, for they were weighing anchor in an hour. As the others filed out, Russell touched Wake’s arm and asked him to stay a moment.
“How is it going with Terrington?”
“He is staying in bed. Sleeps mostly,” replied Wake.
“You’re on extremely dangerous ground, Peter. Be very careful. I’ve seen this before.”
“Yes, I know about the legal situation, Commander. But I’m following regulations as to the proper relief of an incapacitated superior.”
“Regulations have different interpretations at headqua
rters. Peter, we all know that you have been in real command of Canton, and we know that Terrington’s sickness is self-generated. Just beware. I’ll be a witness, should you need me. So will Toledo and Monteblanco and Kramer. Remember that.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll remember that.”
His stomach cramped into a knot as Wake departed the cabin and thought about Russell’s words. Pirates would be easy compared to explaining to his own navy why he removed the captain from command.
One battle at a time, he thought, as he went down the side of the Plover to his gig. He noticed that they did not pipe him on or off the ship, as they would the captain of an allied naval vessel. Well, I’m not the captain—I’m not sure exactly what my position is anymore.
***
“He’s gone? Well, find him! Now!”
“We’re looking now, sir,” explained Connery. “I’ve got the officers and senior petty officers searching the ship.”
“Dammit all to hell!” Wake instantly regretted his outburst, but his anger had gotten the best of him. Moments after he returned to Canton, Connery reported that Terrington was missing. The surgeon’s mate, Pullwood, had left him sleeping after giving him a sedative. When he had checked in on him an hour later, the captain was gone. Now they had weighed anchor and were heading out to sea. “Very well, Mr. Connery. Keep me advised. And send Pullwood in here.”
Pullwood, the only medical man aboard since the ship’s surgeon had taken sick and disembarked at Key West, arrived and stood rigidly at attention. His eyes were neutral but unafraid, which bothered Wake. Normally, being summoned to the executive officer’s cabin was a cause for anxiety among enlisted men, especially given the current circumstances.
“Pullwood, what was Captain Terrington’s demeanor when you last saw him?”
“Asleep, sir.”
“All right, when you last saw him awake.”
“Sleepy, sir.”
“Sleepy from tiredness or from drugs?”
A Dishonorable Few (The Honor Series) Page 21
