Team Seven of Heroes III Chapter 13 & 14

13.

Mycroft looked to the three ladies seated opposite him. He was amazed that the task was given to him. Sir Fleming did not know him well. The previous M which he was never to know was his own sister Sigrina commanded him for over five years. Her so named betrayal was a big let-down to him. Both Sherlock and himself were deceived by the one person that was their peer in the planning and execution. Sigrina disappeared for years to resurface not as M but also the lover of their deadly nemesis, Frank Moriarty the twin brother of James Moriarty.

“Women….” Mycroft sighed to himself. He was like Sherlock; single and obsessed with their works with little time for the family activities. He hardly visited his brother for there was because he envied his brother exploits being brought out to the public while his was shrouded in the secrecy files. He was not keen to make know his exploits; well not all but there were some he did save lives.  

“Mycroft, I believed you have acquired us separate accommodations.” Mrs Watson looked to the man who was to be their guardian. “We have to be underway once we reached Gibraltar.”

Their journey was by sea then from Dover.  Mycroft have never been to the Gib or the Rock to some. It’s a small area with a low population but its strategic position there allowed monitoring of sea vessels coming to Europe or Asia on either way. Due to that, since the early seventeen century the ‘Rock’ was protected.

“We shall be in Gibraltar soon. We will put up at a safe house provided by SOE for us.” Mycroft told the ladies.

“I don’t trust any safe houses of the SOE.” Princess Fa Lo Suee spoke out. “We will stay at the nearest hotel to the dirigible port. Our stay will be short for two days and then we will be underway.”

“May I suggest my old place, my dears?” Mrs Hudson smiled. “I do have a nice cottage by the cliff overlooking the town. It’s in a village near the dirigible station. It was to be my retirement home, if I do ever retire.”

“Splendid idea!” The lady named the Black Cat replied. “I think we could stay there without arousing any attentions.”

Soon they reached the Rock, Mrs Hudson packed them off in a carriage to the home from home of hers on the faraway land there. Her local host was an Albanian by the name of Josef but to everyone he was Uncle Joe. He was in his eighties but he sprouted the seafarer’s health with the matching beard on his chin, in his turtleneck sweater and dark pants tucked into the Wellington boots. His carriage was a four-wheeler designed along the taste of refined Paris but the two mares that drew it was either in heat or the driver was a mad man with the reins. Their ride to the village was quick despite the uneven trail but the smell of the served food was soon to please the new comers.

“We bid our guests welcome to the Rock and here we are the pebbles in its shadow.” Josef introduced the fifty odd inhabitants there living in H formation of cottages and shops that lined the hill there. The host then gave Mrs Hudson a hug and continued on.

“We are ever glad to be of service to my good friend and saviour, Mrs Hudson. Some of us standing here was in favour to your courage to rescue us here years ago.” Josef announced to the other two ladies and Mycroft. He then looked at the Princess. “Your name is well known even by us though your father was more prominent.”

“The dish of roasted duck before you were of one of his enemy favourite once before.” Josef motioned that the chef be brought forth carrying the plate bearing the roasted duck. “Chef Chen was once a warrior in your land and he fought well for the people against your father but he has aged. He joined us here in this village to retire and eventually die of age. Today, he held no animosity towards you for he believed the fight with your father is not with you. He is a warrior and he will carry vengeance to the generations.”

Princess Fa Lo Sue looked to the elderly man in his nineties then. He was dressed in the simple tunic and pants with the waist belt that held pouches for his culinary knives. He bowed to the Princess and smiled with his broken teeth complete with the long pig tailed wound around his neck.

“I was General Chen An of the Xinjiang Army and for years I fought your father and his father but in the end the fighting had to retire. I left the land to come here where heroes are gathered. Like the gathering of the hundred and eight heroes in our land once before.”

“That was the tale of the older folks when the heroes were needed to fight the evil Emperor.” Princess Fa Lo Suee replied while she remembered the telling of the tales by the elders of the heroes. The exploits were documented into a long tale also known as the Water Margin (水浒传). She then bowed to the elderly man. “Our battles are far from over. My father lies missing now and I am to find him.”

“We heard of your father’s plight but we are no more the warriors we once were.” The ex-General smiled. “However, while you are here with us, your safety is assured.”

“If I may explain to all before we all draw guns and daggers.” Mrs Hudson took the attention of the two ladies, and Mycroft who was undecided then between the roasted duck and the gun he tucked in his waist coat. “Here in Pebbles as this place is known, the lot that you see before you are warriors of the past. Retired fighters of many causes and some are criminals just because they support the wrong cause. Here they are to live in harmony till the stroke of death claims them in their sleep or by ailments. It’s a sanctuary of such for them. Josef the Bear here held the balance. Enough is said and let us feast.”

It was a rare feast not because of the guests, but the friendship of the villagers. The ladies were given accommodation at the upper level of the tavern where they had their meals while Mycroft was leveraged with a loft on the opposite abode above the gunsmith.

“It’s out of place for a village to hold a gunsmith when all of you advocate peace.” Mycroft sat there with host, a tall gentleman with the looks of a school teacher then with the pipe in the right hand seated on the verandah of the gunsmith.

“Truly, it may be but we lived in dire times. And to be honest, old habits die harder.” The gunsmith turned the body to display the derringer in his waist coat. “I was learning to shoot at the age of five, killed my first man at the age of eleven, and soon after I had on my gun belt eleven notches when I got my first Colt. Those were the ones I really counted on for years but it could be more. I was never good at counting. Alabama to Texas was a land then ruled by gunman. I have used up three sets of Colt but the last one was not a forty-five but the forty-four Navy. My last shootout caused me my right index finger to bend and I had to …retire.”

“Sad…:” Mycroft tried to stifle his yawn but the old man kept on talking.

“I could not care less for I was left handed. The varmint shot my finger thinking I will lose it all but he was dead before he could smile on his aim.” The gunsmith then stood up. “Guess it’s time for you to rest now.”

It was then Mycroft saw Josef walking towards them with three others including the ex-General Chen. Mycroft stood up and then decided to stay. Josef approached the gunsmith.

“Kid, we got some coming here. Can you loan us some guns?” The gunsmith addressed as Kid nodded to the others who went into his shop to pick their guns. Mycroft stood there with his baffled expression.

“Don’t get involved here, son. You ain’t their match and these elder folks, well they are far more dangerous than those you being involved with. Old Edward there was a hunter from the Canadian wilderness. Josef was part of the Royal Guards, and Pickering; he was at the start of the Boer wars.”

“And don’t you worry on the ladies. Their drinks were spiked to let them rest. So was yours. But I guess you are just one tough dude.” That was what Mycroft heard before he was clubbed from the rear.

Mycroft woke up on his bedding at the loft. He felt the throbbing pain there on his head. He stepped off the bedding and went downstairs. He met the gunsmith seated at the wicker chair at the doorway, cleaning some rifles.

“Good day, Sir.” The gunsmith smiled. “I guess the years of living here had me grown some fine greetings for my guest.”

“What happened last night? I was…” Mycroft was hushed up.

“What happens at Pebbles stays in Pebbles till the soil covers it. Nothing that you need to be alarmed over. You need to rush over to the tavern. Lunch will be served soon.” Mycroft was told and then he saw Josef on the street. He rushed and met the other.

“Late morning, Sir. You need your refreshment while it’s hot.” Josef smiled. His left forearm was bandaged. “We have good news for you. There is another dirigible leaving for Istanbul this evening. We have arranged your tickets. Bon Voyage.”

We will we get back to the Pebbles at another tale. It wasn’t that a good day for Sherlock.

14.

“Holmes. Would you please stop scribbling on your pad and hold the rifle? We are about to boarded by …. pirates or God knows who?” Doctor Watson placed the French made rifle on the table by Sherlock. It was the Lebel Model 1886 or also known as the Fusil Model 1886. It was a standard infantry rifle of the French Army for quite some time, rivalling the Enfield in use. The bolt action rifle measured over four feet in length with a ten loads magazine, with effective range of over four thousand yards.

“What in …. A French rifle? I have seen them before.” Sherlock was not a fan of guns but he studied them well when he needed it.  

“Well, don’t fret over it. The Captain may be Norwegian by origin but he loved French. His affinity for the wine served in his cabin would have told you that.” Doctor Watson and Holmes had the luxury of dining with the Captain one evening.

“Well, I will take my position once I stored the scrolls into the oil packs to avoid it getting damaged.” Sherlock continued on his work but also copied passages that he was reading on. “Be off with you now.”

Doctor Watson had then his loaned rifle and reached for the doorway when Sherlock voiced out.

“No daggers, Watson?” Sherlock learned of Watson other skill while in India as a trained assassin.

“No daggers, Holmes. Never again. I am trying to forget India.” With that Watson stepped out into the corridor and almost fell on his back from the uneven ship movement. The vessel was ahead of the storm but the sea was stormy with the high waves. Their pursuer had made better times in their sailing and was within earshot of each other. The Captain gave the alert when he saw the other vessel had not signalled their intentions. He had then issued orders for the ten crews to be armed and ready for a fight. Two crews have manned the Napoleon and given the weather condition, Watson prayed that the gunpowder will work.

The doctor made his way by holding onto the walls and then reached the doorway to meet mother’s nature fury. He was greeted with a body splash on his whale skin covered body but even that the coldness of the water was felt to his bones then. He lowered his head and then proceeded out to deck and held out his right hand to the railings. He felt a hand grabbed his wrist and was to lashed out when he heard the familiar crew’s voice.

“Aye, Sir It’s me Lenbeir. Let me guide you to the upper deck and be with the Captain there.” Watson recalled the man he met several times from the storage crew. An experienced seafarer with the beard and deep sunken eyes and his upper body was raked with tattoos. He did tell Watson, that he won’t let them tattoo below his waist line for he was not keen to bend over to see any. They laughed at the racy meaning of it leaving Sherlock not amused at the rationale then. He has probably not stayed in the Frontier for long without the lady’s comfort.

“Welcome in, Doctor. Our unknown vessel had not responded to my signals. If its fight they want, we are ready. We consist of mixed nationalities but on the vessel, we are one family and all of us have served in the war whether locally or foreign.”

The Captain himself was armed with the Mauser 98 rifle; German manufactured and the gun belt with the German Mauser pistol. He also had on the double edge sword that he claimed was from his grandfather. Swords were heirloom in the Vikings and they have names given to it. The Captain’s sword was named Alfhild after a maiden who disguised as a warrior pirate in the olden days.

“Alfhild will do her duty in my hand as we are duly bound by love and strength.” The Captain told Watson but the later was keen on knowing who they are battling with.

“I know not of the crews there but I saw their faces. They are Chinese and it’s a rarity to find them so far North unless they are up to bad fishing. They are mostly at the Mediterranean on their own home to the Far East. I saw some others but it does not matter. The Great Neptune will swallow them all regardless of their diet.”

Across the stormy waves the slate of light rain, Hathaway had armed himself with the gun belt holding the Webley and slung over his left shoulder was the newly produced Thompson machine gun. He looked to his boarding crew of dozen warriors. Each of them had on them the extra length of ropes and the grapnel to latch on.

“We cannot delay for the storm is approaching. Deploy out and on my command board them.” Hathaway then turned to the Captain. “Show them your dragon fire.”

The dragon fire was a mounted Maxim gun on a four-wheeler cart. The gun fires six hundred rounds per minute. There were two units and it was rolled out to the deck to fire on the other vessel. The guns were loaded and then the gunners opened fire. With the stormy waves, the line of fire was erratic when it strafed the lower deck and then the ship side and then streaked upwards to the deck again. Three crews manning the deck there were injured by the bullets but not fatal. The crews on the vessel shot at fired back but the machine gunners were protected by the metal plates that acts as a shield.

“Darn!” The Captain cursed out and then ordered the Napoleon crew to retaliate. The two crews having loaded the gun lit the wick and watched. The gun roared as it were in the previous battlefields and the cannon ball went streaking across distance between the vessels. There was no targeting by the gunners but with the offerings to Neptune, they hoped their aim was right.

Well, it missed the gunner’s intended target; the machine guns but it hit the stern of the vessel. The twelve-pounder ball tore past the metal plate there and into the engines there. The ball did some damages but the vessel was still seaworthy. The machine guns trained their aim on the Napoleon causing the crew there to seek cover.

“Return fire, old sea dogs.” (The Norwegian words are unrefined than these.) The assorted rifles of different makes were no match to the Maxim guns. Maybe Neptune did not favour the good sailors.

“Steer to starboard five degrees.” The Captain called out and then he saw Sherlock stepping into the cabin. He asked for permission to man the Napoleon.

“Holmes, you are mad….” Watson saw the look on other. It was not madness but Sherlock may be into something. The sleuth made his way to the Napoleon and it was then there was a lull in the firing.

“Gunners, we need to get the gun ready.” While the two gunners attended the Napoleon, Sherlock crouched there to look at the other vessel. He heard the affirmation from the gunners and then he told them his plan.

“Do not fire until I tell you to.” Sherlock then remained there to look at the vessel. The machine guns returned to focus on the Napoleon. One of the gunners was wounded by the fire but Sherlock remained observing. He then turned to the remaining gunner and gave the signal to hold. His signal was given and the cannon roared. The cannon ball flew across the distance and hit the impacted on the damage engine making major damages. The other vessel was rendered partially inoperable although it could stay afloat and sail.

“Steer starboard and get us away from them.” The Captain called out then. Watson saw the predicament of the other vessel.

“Surely, Captain. You will not leave those men there to die.”

“I have no choice, Doctor. We are at war now. I can’t tow them not with the storm behind us.” The choice was made then but Hathaway was not giving up that easily. The half British Chinese warrior called on the vessel to force at the other.

“You are mad, Sir. We will both sink here.” The other Captain protested and was given the knuckle jab by Hathaway right hand into the throat. Hathaway then clenched his knuckles and then formed a fist to slam the damaged throat there. It was that blow that severed the air pipes of the Captain.

“I will take command.” Hathaway called out. “Steer towards them.”

On the other vessel, the Captain saw the intended action and called for full engine to move starboard. The vessels parted with distance but Hathaway was adamant of ramming the other.  Watson stood there on the deck watching the distance built up with regrets. He was not sure then of the other vessel’s fate.

Team Seven of Heroes III Chapter 11 & 12

Book 2

The Elixir of Life

11.

“Emperor Qin Shi Huang sent his alchemist Xu Fu with five hundred young men and the equivalent in ladies to find he elixir but they never returned home. Some legends said that they found Japan. Later Shi Huang Di sent over three thousand boys and girls. While this was on going, the alchemy masters were professing certain metals could the cure to longevity including gold. Little was they know, it actually caused toxic poisoning. In the Amrita from the ancient Hindu scriptures, also mentioned of the drink that will promote the longevity of life.” Father Lewis then in the living hall of the place he had called home for over sixty years lowered the wooden spoon he held in his right hand.

“Would you consider that food that we consumed day may be the true elixir of life?” Father Lewis looked to his apprentice who was then taking the same servings that was provided from the kitchen. “After all, years ago, I sat in your place eating about the same food.”

“Father Lewis, please finish your food and then you can retire to your rest.” The younger priest smiled before he scooped up the food on the plate. He grinned to himself for the food there was not the best but it was palatable. He looked at the man he had served for some years then with affection. The older priest had spent almost half his life there as the custodian of the ancient scrolls. He had once confessed that he never reads them for fear that it may challenge his faith in his mind. However, he did not discourage Brother Hathaway to read them if he wants.

“You never told me that you served the Emperor?” Father Lewis asked of Hathaway. “I do not really know that Emperor but as my apprentice he was one of the most read ones. He spent a lot of time at the archives delving into the scrolls. He was missed and then you came. You do read too but more to it, you would speak to me. I am an old man who sometimes craved some conversations. And your tales were a relief.”

“What do you think of Sherlock Holmes?” The younger priest asked then. “You have not spoken since he…”

“Yes, nice man. I showed him the archives.” Father Lewis replied. “It was when you were called away for the prayers recitals. I even gave him some scrolls. I meant borrowed him them.”

Hathaway almost slipped his hand holding the spoon and then he looked at the older priest.

“What did you give him?”

“The scroll on the secret of the Golden Flower from the Qing Dynasty but mine was older than that.” Father Lewis smiled. “I guess you can kill me now. The food I have tasted is bland of flavour.”

Hathaway stood up and glared at the elderly priest. He lowered his head before he sighed at the action taken by the elderly priest. The old man had crossed the line which Hathaway had to then take remedial actions.

Two hours later, Hathaway sneaked out of the rear doorway to catch the late train to London, and then to Dover. He has a long journey to take. Father Lewis had ended his journey although it will be last morning before anyone was to know. The pillow over the face was an easy way out and painless for an old friend.

It was no easy departure for the three ladies with the uncomfortable man that was holding their bags. Mycroft heaved on him the four bags with each arm carrying two but his eyes were on them. The ladies were all covered in the hood and cloak over their travel clothes and with the help of the London’s best, they were given a hassle-free walk past the check points. Their destination then was the dirigible station where they will board the flight towards Berlin and there onto to Istanbul before they take the train to Tbilisi and from there to board the other dirigible to fly to Kabul before they joined the Silk Road at Xinjiang on the road.

“Princess, I will suggest a new route.” The Black Cat told her. “We will take South by sea to the darker continent and then round it to India before cut overland in the delta regions to emerge from south of Xinjiang.”

“Why the change now, my trusted one?” Princess Fa Lo Suee asked.

“I sensed danger. In the dirigible, we can’t escape. On the sea vessels we hold a better chance.” The lady replied. “Your father had many enemies and above all, he is now presumed dead, his friends may be his enemies too. Do you recall Wu Sung?”

The ladies did some fast thinking and the roped in Mycroft to their plans.

“You must be mad.” Mycroft replied then. “But I will do it. I hate flying.”

With that, two hours later the four of them were on the sea vessel sailing towards Gibraltar They were without the hood and cloak but had on the constable overcoat. The four constables donned the hood and cloak to step into the dirigible with the porters carrying the bags.

“Keegan, how do you reckon I looked like with the hood and cape?” The stout lad from the mines turned to the constabulary works adjusted his cape. “Do I look like the riding lone ranger in the newsprint?”

“No, you looked like the monster Mr Hyde.” The other laughed and the other colleague joined in when the door to the reserved unit.

“Francis, check who is it?” The one named Francis attended to the door but he was thrown back by the impact on the door. The disguised constable fell on his back and before he could react, the spear head on the shortened staff pierced his heart. Keegan reached for the truncheon and recalled that he left it when he donned the cape. He then jumped up and charged at the spear wielding assailant but he was held back by the bloodied spear then aimed at him. He did the only move he had learned at the mines before. His right arm raised and blocked the spear on the upper staff. He had been involved in such fights with the miners picks and it was one move to counter back. With the move, Keegan left hand went out and grabbed the lower end of the shaft to pull the shaft forward and with his right hand clasped on the staff below the spear head he twisted the spear to swing in from the right. The assailant stepped back avoiding the weapon that was his but he did not foresee the thrust of the spear into his left thigh. Keegan pulled the spear back but he did not see the second assailant until it was too late. The second assailant at the rear of the first one thrust the shortened spear at Keegan’s face. The later could not avoid the thrust and lost his left eye there to the spear. Keegan fell back while the second assailant rushed in and threw the spear at the remaining constable. Keegan crouched at the corner then watching the assailants checked the unit. They could not find the ladies and then retreated.

The words went out then.

“The ladies are on the run.”

So was Van Helsing leaving the mountains if he was to stay on living with his blood intact his body. He was shown the hidden tunnels, and out into the ghetto of the city. His guide then left him there to go on his own. He took to then to the shadows of the place and ran based on the direction. It was a mile away from the city train station. He remembered the Master’s last instructions.

“The Dark Prince feared your gifted weapon. It’s also one of the three items to open the secret of the Elixir of Life. Take care of it.” The Master told him. “They may stop you.”

Van Helsing journey to the train station was without any incident although he felt then that he was watched. He boarded the train towards the South. Once he was on the train, he felt safer. He did not notice the Train Master then switched the Train Destination Plates.

It was headed East and not South. Van Helsing won’t know for he was served food laced with drugs to induce sleep.

Deep sleep.

12.

Watson thought slipped back to his case with Sherlock on the love of a lady. It was not that he was outwitted by the lady but she left him with the unique remembrance of the photo he still kept of Irene Adler. Watson did ask him on the lady and the reply was expected of the cold man with the mind that was rarely rivalled then. He had not mentioned much of the lady although he did reference to one in the “Five Orange Pips” case. “Defeated” was his word then but it was never pursued on by Watson. He believes that everyone deserved to keep their skeleton in the closet.

“Are you enjoying the view or merely ignoring me?” Watson heard the man who approached him on the bow of the fishing vessel. He turned to the sleuth covered in the whale skin coat like himself. The vessel Captain was generous to spare them one set each.

“The weather looks fine.” Sherlock commented then on the weather when he saw Watson still ignoring him. The later looked out at the calm sea and wondered when have Sherlock ever commented on the weather unless he was looking for clues.

“Do you know that most Londoners commented on the weather daily? It’s a wonder we even cared with the number of dirigibles plodding past overhead covering the skies most times. I will be more concerned if one drops on my head than the raindrops. Statistically speaking, that possibility is a hundred times less than a ground vehicle crashing into each other on the streets. I wondered…”

“Holmes, please be silent. I am trying to …” The doctor had glare at Sherlock. “I am to give a word of grace to my son. You do recall he died in the hole.”

Watson’s son falling down the hole during their adventure in India. He had only seen him just days ago before he died.

“I am sorry, Watson. Emotional ties are not….my cuppa of tea. I have no one except Mycroft …. and Sigrina but above it all I am…”

“Cold and calculative.” Watson cut in. “When will the Sherlock Holmes become more …. human like? Are you sure you are sired by humans or maybe created by….”

Sherlock looked at Watson and then he stepped back to the cabin. Watson felt bad then but he soon told himself that the outburst was his way of expressing his grief at the pains caused by Holmes and the others in India. It was still brewing inside his heart and he needed that outburst. As a doctor, he had read Sigmund Freud’s theory on grief and how it transpired in the works. He knew he was grieving but besides Nina, there was no one near him that understood the emotions of losing the son of his. He had seen many deaths in the Frontier War but they were not emotionally attached to him. Nor were those victims when he studied a case with Sherlock. He knew Sherlock was above him in that emotion states. The man is a high functioning sociopath that what was Watson diagnosed then but he was using it to help people. Moriarty was one peer in the same class as Sherlock but that man has used his mind to create mayhem.

“Son”, Watson heard the voice and turned to it. It was the ship’s Captain. “Aye, you. I will like you to go into the cabin now. We got a storm coming up.”

The Captain was motioning to the horizon where the dark clouds could be seen. Watson also saw the blip that looked like any other vessel at sea. They have passed ships on their voyage.

“Aye, Son. That vessel had been tailing for over a day now. Either it’s going our way or we will be having some boarders soon. I reckon it be will that or the storm on the horizon that will be our trouble.” The Captain then motioned to his pistol tucked into his waist belt. “My Mathilda will protect me from both.”

“You can’t shoot …. I meant it won’t cause much impact on anyone trying to board you.” Watson smiled. “With no intention to be disrespectful to you…. or Mathilda.”

“This one?” The Captain drew out the pistol. “No, it won’t work. I am referring to that.”

That was above Watson and it was one of those surprises that you can never expect from a sea dog. It was an ancient Napoleon 12 pounder with its wheels secured to the platform there. The gun fired a twelve-pounder cannon ball to a distance of three hundred yards.

“She ain’t much to look at considering the new guns they have now, but Mathilda was with me since young. She was my Dad’ who fired her in the last war between states. Now she is mine. I got iron balls and also the grape shots. I once shot another vessel of its sail when it tried to ram me.”

“God save the King when you have …. Captains like you around.” Watson swore to himself.

“We ain’t have any King. We got ourselves a President.” The Captain then excused himself and Watson took the cabin to check his inventory of bullets. He saw the sleuth idling on the upper bunk that was allocated to him. He was not smoking but had on the scrolls then.

“Ah, Watson. I have a news of interest here.” Sherlock beamed out as if he was back in 221B.

“I am not keen on that now.” Watson went to retrieve his bags to search for the bullets. “We have a vessel on the horizon following us.”

“Of that I know two hours ago but of yourself, I am baffled Watson. Please speak to me.” Sherlock sat up and the climbed down to take the seat by the table. “I won’t smoke while you speak.”

“It’s nothing, Holmes. I am just….”

“In grief, I know but don’t you think you are prolonging it too long. The lad is dead and his mother …”

“Do not ever mention …Nina’s name. Or my son. They are mine.” Watson snapped at Sherlock. The later then raised his hands up in defeat before he took out the paper that was in his shirt pocket.

“It’s a letter from Nina. You might want to read it.” Sherlock handed it over. “It was addressed to me before I left India to come back.”

Watson was shocked that his friend had contacted his ex-lover. He took the letter and read.

“Dear Holmes, I am in need of your help to assist James in his grief on the loss of his son and my love. For the later, I still do but it won’t be when we were together. I had found my new love with Dakar and with him now in his stateless mind, I am more obligated to take care of him. For whatever Dakar done as Nemo, he was still a good father and friend to us. My son looked up to Dakar more than James. I know it may sound selfish but the parting years have mellowed our love. I know he may be in pain from some time as I would be but he has to go on living himself. He cannot be held to grief over us, when we do not matter anymore. Take him on as your friend and take care of him. James is a good man and above all, he wants to serve. I know of your works even in India, make him a part of it and continue living on his own journey. Nina.”

Watson looked to Sherlock and then tossed the letter over.

“I was ready to forgive you and now you torment with this letter. You are a bastard, Holmes.” Watson slammed the bag cover shut “Once we are at Port, we are going our ways.”

Sherlock sat there expressionless and then he took to leave the cabin leaving the doctor fretting over his emotions. The sleuth stepped out to the platform and then looked at the coming storm. He was thinking of the next steps when he does meet the Emperor. It had better be good for he had destroyed the one friend that he had with a fake letter. The quest to find the Emperor was dangerous and it had to be done alone. He read that it in the scrolls and noted the signs there.  It was too dangerous for Watson not when he was not in the correct state of mind.

Unknown to Sherlock, the other vessel was devoid of baggage except its crew and the group of Chinese warriors under the command of a white man.

“I want to capture that ship.” Hathaway called out dressed in the loose blue tunic and pants with his waist belt holding the Webley. He stared at the Captain and cursed.

“Are your men all getting sloppy from the days at Dover? I want the sails upright and moving now.” Hathaway called out once more. He was in pursuit of Holmes and the demand for the scrolls to be returned. It was the Emperor’s mistake not to destroy it but the feeble man had shared emotions to value it as priceless. With the younger man, the scrolls were not worth anything but killing Holmes will propel him up the ranks. He looked to dozen warriors that he had brought with him. They are seasoned warriors with the needed skills learned on boarding sea vessels.

“Sir, the storm is before us. We need to find some shelter.”

“The only shelter is to be ahead of the storm.” Hathaway told the Captain. “Get more speed up. The Emperor wills it.”

Team Seen of Heroes III Chapter 10A

10A.

Van Helsing stepped into the temple gate and found himself facing the assassin leader standing there. The later motioned to him to follow inside the temple. Once inside he was greeted by the huge chamber with the high ceiling adorned with spiritual writings and drawings of the protective idols.

“You are in sanctuary now with our protection. None will come into the grounds for this is the Dark Wolves Lair.” The leader led Van Helsing to the middle of the chamber and showed him the layout carpet. He crouched down to pull the carpet up and revealed a trap doorway. He tapped on the trap doorway and soon it slid opened to revealed the stairs that led down to the lower levels. Van Helsing took to the stairs and was followed by the leader. Once the trap door slid back the stairs was in darkness for a while before the torches on the wall were lighted by itself. The steps down the stairs were steep and the walls pocked mark with tiny holes which formed some sort of hold for the person descending unfamiliar with the stairs. They soon came to the level below which was another unit but that one that held scores of the assassins checking their attires and weapons there.

“This is our preparation area before we venture out.” The leader explained while he led Van Helsing past them to the next chamber where the weapons were laid out in the racks. There were the ‘kora’, the kukris and even the beech loaded rifles and some muskets. The leader took the walk to the adjacent chamber where Van Helsing was greeted by the master there.

“I am Master Pungleng of the Dark Wolves lair here. We welcome you to our lair. We wished it was a better occasion but nevertheless we shall try to accommodate all your needs.” The master then motioned Van Helsing to the table laden with fruits and drinks.

“Master Pungleng, I am still unsure of what I am doing here. Some days back I was on the mountain and told of the imbalance in the influence. And of the vault which was to hold the so named untamed which I am not sure whom they are. I was given the impression that my nemesis was one of them. Then I was sent here and confronted my nemesis still at large here. We fought and as usual he escaped before I was set on by vampires and then the mob which I do not know who had instigated to look for me.”

“And above all, who hired you to protect me?” Van Helsing glared at the Master.

“Questions that will be answered in full now.”

“Our employer is a man of power. He is the Emperor Fu Manchu.” The Master spoke up. “Please do not be offended by that. The Emperor had seen it coming then that he will need the assistance of the demon slayer then. He had hired us to find you and protect you until the right moment to call upon you.”

Van Helsing was surprised that the one named Emperor Fu Manchu will need his services to the extent of protecting him.

“From what I am to do for the Emperor? He held an army and more capable warrior than me.” Van Helsing let off a laugh. “More to it, I have never met the man before. I am more familiar with Dracula.”

“The Emperor does not disclose his reasons but he feared the quest of his may had offended the undead and namely the Prince of Darkness. Dracula was a guest of the Guardians some time back he was met by the Emperor to discuss the Elixir of Life. It was rumoured that he had a bargain with the other; a pint of the tainted blood for the same with the Emperor but the former refused. He had the Prince of Darkness taken by force and delivered the blood. The Prince swore revenge.”

“I doubt your tale, Master. The Guardians will not do that for they are …” Van Helsing was cut off by the Master.

“No place on the land or below it cannot be breached by the Wolves. We took the task and lost two of our brothers then.” The Master made a bow to Van Helsing. “We got our blood but we also had the Prince escape then. It’s our vow that we bring the Prince back there or I shall replace the Prince in the chamber there. We are a guild of mercenaries but we are also bounded by codes and rules. As we have received the gold by the Emperor for our works, we shall repay with blood for our failures.”

“A very amusing tale but why was I given the Gyaling by the Guardians?”

“The Guardians knew that the weapons of Man may not bring the Prince of Darkness down to its knees and they valued life not be lost needlessly. They gave you the only weapon to control the Dark Prince.”

“I don’t work for free …most times.” Van Helsing stared at the Master.

“We know that which was why we will clear your conscience that had brought you to the mountains. You came here for a reason but you know not what. We can help you there. The Wolves have dated to the past generations before your forefathers hunted the blood suckers. We will tell you a secret that will open your heart to a new world. That will be your payment if you succeed in the task.”

“And if I chose not to be in it? I will seek my answer my own way.” Van Helsing displayed his confidence then.

“You may choose to walk alone but the Prince of Darkness will not release you for we have involved you.” The master replied. “We have laid the trail of your killings on the followers of the Prince and your link to the Emperor as his hunter of the dark.”

“Bastard! You set me up.” Van Helsing glared at the old man. “How could….”

“We are mercenaries and our works are by the weight of the gold it weighed. We held no emotions or links except to perform our tasks. I would suggest that you detached your emotions to work on your inner self preservation. Without your approval, the Emperor has left the word to annihilate you.”

“I would suggest that you serve the Emperor if not for gold then for your lifetime answer.” The Master then turned to leave the chamber. “The doorway is behind you.”

Just then on the vessel designed to fish on the cold seas up north, the fuming Doctor was seated at the lower bunk bed questioning his presence there. Ever since India, Doctor Watson had harbour doubts on his involvement with the sleuth on the goose chases.  The sleuth was as usual in his deep thoughts of the case, while puffing on the pipe at his lips. The doctor normally would had put up with the eccentric sleuth then took offence to the smoke.

“Holmes...” The doctor interrupted the sleuth.

“I say Watson, our trip to Oxford was not all wasted. I did some talking to the Father Lewis, and he gave me….”

“Holmes” Watson rose his voice and then the sleuth turned to look at him. “I …”

“I know I do owe you an apology for the things I kept from you on India and your past. You must remember, I am not an easy person to get along with.” Sherlock saw the impatience in the doctor and held his part to speak first. “When I first met you, I was …Well it was not my idea to get a house mate but Mycroft. He made me do it.”

“Holmes…” Again, the doctor was ignored.

“I took on you with some reservations but we got along. Well, most times.” Sherlock smiled. “And I treasured your company. The walks and the conversation, and the fact when you sat there like a …devoted hound…”

Sherlock saw the annoyance in the doctor.

“Okay, I like you. No…I love you. Not matrimonially or with any carnal desires. You can call it brotherly…”

“Holmes, open the darned window. I am suffocating here.”

“Oh, okay, Nice talking to you.” Sherlock proceeded to open the window. He took a whiff of the sea freshness and then regretted taking the ship instead of flying. He turned to look at the doctor who was then immersed in his reading habit.

“Holmes, would you close the window? It’s getting cold.”

“Yes, my dear…. Watson.” Sherlock grinned to himself. “I think I will do my work outside.”

The space there was too constricting.

Team Seven of Heroes Chapter 9 & 10

9.

Watson tucked into his evening meal at local delicatessen with Sherlock but they took the corner table avoiding the many diners there who appeared to be more absorbed in their meals or a book then to speak to strangers. Sherlock was however at his smoking habit which was one reason they were ushered to the far corner to avoid contaminating the dining area.

“Since Fu Manchu studied at Edinburgh, he could have fake that and studied here instead?” Watson asked before he scooped the piece of the pie that he was enjoying.

“No, I doubt so. I have checked his source at Edinburgh. He is a brilliant student and for all we now know, there may be more to the Xia’s family. Maybe he has a brother which we were not aware.”

“Hence the theory of more Holmes. It was obviously the geniuses all shared a common trait, they propagate too well.” Watson smiled. “I have no such brother. All those were mine took the sworn oath in the Regiment and like some of them in the Frontier War I came back with an inch off my leg.”

“Do you have your gun with you?” Sherlock asked. Watson looked at Sherlock and patted his jacket coat. He knew from the tone of the voice Sherlock was serious on the gun. He tried not to look but he then felt eyes were on him.

“We are being watched by a group of three men in the other side of the tavern and there are two more outside.” Sherlock shifted his view to have his back to the three men. He then told Watson his next plan of action.

It was said that if you do see the vampire you bloody well hope you have more than a pint of blood. That was needed then but there were cups of tea there. So other action was needed.

Van Helsing’s one was plain direct action. He charged at the man in the far corner in the pool but the later jumped out of his reach. There was a myth on the vampires. They do have more strength in their body than a normal person and they like to jumped high to cling onto the wall.

The one identified as Dracula did that and held himself up spread eagled up there. In normal situation, it would have been considered obscene to be doing that nude on the wall or an artistic mimic of the Angel descent to Earth.

“Van Helsing, the others…” The other five at the hall stood up and displayed their latest teeth works which did not auger well for the normal men. The three assassins grouped together when they stepped into the pool and the kukris came out. The leader was without one but he held out his arms to display the metal gauntlet there. The five vampires charged at the three assassins which then lashed out with their kukri’s. The leader without the kukri used his gauntlet to block the attacker with the side of the left arm before he punched out with his right hand into the underarm. The softer flesh there caused the attacker to reel back in pain and that’s when the leader kicked out with his right leg at the torso to topple the attacker. His other compatriot had better fighting chance when they lashed out with it in a series of cuts that started from the throat to the lower torso. The stance they took made them crouched down and then with the twist of the body, they swept their right leg out below the water to trip the attackers. It worked for three of them and the fourth one leaped at them. It was coordinated move by the two trained assassins to raise up their kukri and slashed at the last attacker in the neck on both sides.

Well, it would have stop most attackers but these were not the typical ones. The vampires if they are to be named recovered fast and resumed their attack. The three assassins withdrew and then climbed out of the pool. They saw the stout guard stood there holding the traditional long blade which resembled more like a machete except it was longer. It was called a ‘kora’.  The blade was curved like a scimitar with a wide blade end.

“Your kind killed my sister!” The guard there charged at the five vampires who were once his masters. He was a trained killer with many works of his involving the huge blade he carried. He swung with the blade and with his strength he decapitated the nearest one. He then swung the blade to slam another one in the face before he lashed out with his right leg to kick the one he killed to fall onto the others. The pool of water went dark with red when the guard killed the second master in the heart. By then the assassins have move back into the fight and killed the two more masters by stabbing them in the heart. That left only the last standing one who was slammed in the face.

“You were once my master but now you are a monster.” The guard swung the ‘kora’ at the last vampire there and killed the other. It was over then for the vampires except the one that was its King.

“Van Helsing, you are a rare one. I will take my leave now.” The one named Dracula jumped to the ceiling but Van Helsing had pulled his gun out. He fired at the vampire on the ceiling but he then saw the new threat. Scores of men were rushing in from the other bath chambers armed with kukri and other weapons.

“Dracula, you were never a fair fighter.” Van Helsing screamed out. However, Sherlock was spared of that in Oxford unless they have resorted to volumes in their hands but the five men trailing them was still on their tail. He directed Watson on the streets of the City that he had little knowledge of unlike London. He soon found himself in a narrow street with no scholars in sight. He was to turn back when he saw his exit blocked by three men. The other two have managed to reach the other end and blocked the other way.

“I say old chap. Do you think they will resort to fist fight? I am actually good at that.” Sherlock asked Watson.

“Bloody hell that I will punch my way through when I hold this.” Watson showed the Webley in his right hand. “Shall we get started? Mary is waiting for me at London.”

The fight was physical with Sherlock on the odds of three to one. The other two were held back by the Webley.

“Chaps, I have to caution you that I am proficient in the fist …” Sherlock was given the slap across his left cheek.

“That hurts.” Sherlock called out and when the second hit was coming, he blocked it with his left arm and then with his right hand, he jabbed the man in the eyes, and followed through his clenched finger to deliver the punch into the nose and then he drew back his fingers to form a fist to deliver the final blow into the chin. With the first attacker immobilised, Sherlock side stepped to avoid the punch and crouched down like a ring fighter to deliver the one two punches into the second attacker in the torso and the right kidney. He then straightened up and stepped forth to deliver the elbow into the third attacker in the face and followed through with the right knee into the lower torso.

“Viola! I am done.” Sherlock then stepped back while his attackers were down. “They don’t fight like those at the docks but good enough.”

10.

Van Helsing levelled the gun towards the horde besieging him and the assassins. He counted there were about twenty of them and they were raging for blood with their Masters’ dead. The stout guard was cornered at the other end with ten others keeping them there.

“They are no more our masters. They are vampires. See to their fangs there.” The stout guard there shouted out to the others. Meanwhile Dracula had climbed down unseen and sneaked off.

“Master Helsing, you may want to consider using your other weapon.” The leader of the assassins spoke to the demon slayer. Van Helsing pulled the gyaling out and then looked at it.

“Music? At this moment.” Van Helsing shook his head and then took up the musical tool to his lips as if he was to play it. He was to blow it when the leader of the assassins pushed his arms up and direct the gyaling towards the ceiling. The sound that came from the gyaling was unheard of but it sure brought down the ceiling towards the besieging group.

“Hurry! We have to move.” The leader ran off to the doorway and was followed by the others. The ceiling fell and surprised the second group but the armed guard took the opportunity to slash his way through and left by the side door.

Outside the bath house, the leader looked to Van Helsing.

“I hope you can run and climb.” Van Helsing nodded but he was not prepared for the climb onto the walls and then the run across the roof tops. He had heard of this form of art which was pioneered by a French Naval Officer Georges Hebert then who had discovered the concept with the tribes he met in the Dark Continent.

“You coming or you want to run through the gauntlet.” The assassin leader offered a hand but the demon slayer preferred to take his chance on the ground. He took to the run and found his way blocked by mob. He tried to turn back but his escape was blocked. He took up the gyaling once more and blew into it. He directed the sound towards the structure walls next to the mob and collapsed it. He then turned to the wall next to him. He was taking his chance there and created the hole there. It was someone’s kitchen and they were not happy but Van Helsing had no choice. He climbed into the kitchen and ran from there to the house exit and out into another mob. He blew the gyaling to collapse another wall and then made his way to the living area before he took to the side street. There he snaked down the alley in front. His run reached what may be termed as a square. He did not encounter any mob there but he was unsure of where to go from there. He headed the whistle from the far roof and saw one of the assassins. The assassin was directing him to go down one of the alley. He followed the direction and found himself made to run with the assassin appearing at the correct corners. He soon found himself facing a temple.

 “A place of worship…. I am beginning to feel more comfortable.” Van Helsing liked temples; they offered shelter and food. Oxford was not a place you leave after having taken your meal at the Covered Market dated back to 1774. Sherlock chanced his next meal there with the doctor and the two priests they met earlier.

“I hoped you like the platter. We served the best in the choices.” Sherlock smiled at the senior priest who had them indulged in choicest of sausages and cured meat. Watson released the satisfaction with the loud flatulence then which hovered between comedic and silliness. Sherlock was more sized up for serious talks.

“Father Lewis, you have led me to an infraction with the locals. Normally I don’t confront my …suspects? Was that what the others called it?” Sherlock looked back at the two priests. “One of you unleashed those thugs on us? And I am putting the finger on you.”

Sherlock was motioning to Brother Hathaway.

“You are not a priest but a cobber. Your observation betrayed your true profession. And those thugs were not really killers but more of the local boys without their uniform. It’s to my conclusion that you are in the …”

“I am in the employment of the Emperor to watch over this interest here. That is as far as I will tell you.”

“I thought so. Well, I have informed London and they will send someone over to talk to you on your association.” Sherlock then turned to the one named Father Lewis. “Good help ain; t many and fewer are trusted apprentices. Now for you I need to know more on Tu Xia which you mentioned earlier. I was of two minds that he may be Fu Xia, the Emperor Fu Manchu but it intrigued me there may be more.”

“Tu Xia was once my student. He was also known as Fu Xia. He never studied in Edinburgh but here. He had his servant replaced him there. He had a few which looked like him as part of his entourage. It’s cloaking mechanism or disguise. Here at Oxford the real Tu Xia become my apprentice but he had knack to learn on the unknown and dark …secrets.” Father Lewis explained.

“It ran in the family to my understanding. Pray go on.” Sherlock held the expression which spoke of long days and nights listening to his clients.

“Tu Xia came to me at an early age and despite his young age, he was a good student. He asked a lot of questions and they were intelligent ones. He asked of the Universe once to me and then he will begin his own research. He had accessed to our library. It was soon in his late teens that I was to consider him for the position as an apprentice much against my fellow peers. It was then he was removed in the middle of the night by some men who forced their way in. He was never seen.”

“And Hathaway appeared then.” Sherlock raised the issue. Father Lewis nodded and then defended his new apprentice.

“Brother Hathaway is a good apprentice of mine too. He had learned many things here and will one day probably replace me. He will leave his current ambition.”

“Intriguing thoughts came to my mind, Father. What was your expertise?” Sherlock asked.

“I am the curator of the ancient artefacts and also the head of the archives which held our sacred scrolls.”

“At most interesting to a scholar like you but for Hathaway, it was a task to protect it.” Sherlock looked at the younger priest. “From whom may I ask?”

“The enemies of my Emperor.” Hathaway replied.  He then raised his right sleeve to show the tattoo of the heavenly dragon. “I lived to serve the Emperor. I may be of the force under London, but my true loyalty is with the Emperor.”

“God bless the King you were not … to tell him. The Exchequer might demand a refund for his money paid to you.  I liked your many …affliction. One as a cobber, another as a hidden operative, and thirdly blinds me to see you in the frock and collar. Do you really pray at night or wait for the instructions then?” Sherlock leaned over to ask the priest. “Tell me of the Tu Xia when he was taken then?”

“Tu Xia returned to the Far East against his will. His father had discovered his location and took him back. He was not to know that my mother whom he had an affair then had another son. I was born without knowing my father, raised in Oxford, joined the local constabulary and was sent to London for special tasks. I came back here on the order of my superior.”

“You have the same tattoo and that was privileged to the Emperor’s trusted aides, and the immediate families. Your facial expression had the mixed looks which suggested that you are not born here. And your walk told me that you came from the uniformed group with the drawn back shoulders and the strides you took were very distinct with your training. So was your grip when you shook my hand. It was firm and strong unlike the gentle touch of the priest.”

“You were right in most counts. I was named Tang Xia named after my father, Fu Manchu. I took my mother name’s when I came here. I am Fu Xia’s bastard son sent here to protect Tu Xia.”

“What is so special about Oxford?” Watson asked.