Deep Sea Chapter 5

5.

The Surface

Lord Henry slumped back on his reading chair in this own library at the large mansion on his estate. He was holding the century-old wine glass half-filled with the vintage wine. It was one of the pleasures where money could buy. The same money he inherited with his proper investment has generated more but of late that extra revenue was not sufficient to cover the investment he holds on the island. The island project must take off soon or he will be losing more of his investment.

“Stewart…” Lord Henry called out for mew updates. His personal aide appeared standing there with the latest report. He adjusted his three-piece suit on the lapels. It was important to remain well dressed in the company of others. It was his call during the Army days. No one was to be out of the uniform unless it was to bed. That was allowed for it was a personal allotment of the time then.

“Did you read it?” Lord Henry asked him but the other stood there grim-faced. The Sergeant Major was standing there in the dark butler suit that fitted him to the buttons like the old uniform. A fine man with a first-class display of Army discipline.

“Can the donkey sing like birds?” It was a clique of the Sergeant Major when he was questioned by the young recruits on their ability. “I tried but it made no sense to me.”

“It tells me that we need to push the project ahead of schedule or we lose all our money. That includes your pension.” Lord Henry lays out the bare facts. “I ...”

Corporal Jones rushed in. That man was a disgrace with his clothes untucked and the buttons missing on the next line. He was pilling on the bandolier over his right shoulder. He was also armed with his side gun, the Webley with the belt of ammo, and the machete hung on the left side. He cocked up the Mauser 98 rifle making sure it was ready to fire. He had stepped in and then closed the door behind.

“We got ourselves some bad parties.” Corporal Jones smiled. He was also Head of Security. “I saw them on the mirrors.”

The mansion grounds and corridors were rigged with hidden mirrors that will reflect it. It was Corporal Jones's task to look at the fifty mounted mirrors in his monitoring station. It covered all the grounds from the main gates to the stables.

“So why are you here?” Lord Henry asked of him. “Where are the guards?”

“They are the intruders. They are turning on us.” Corporal Jones then rushed to the window and looked out. “Fire in the hole.”

A series of shots came through the window glass and hit the library books. The grenade was tossed in but landed short behind the outside wall. It exploded and sent the roses to the Angels.

“They were planning in the stables when I happened to be there.” Jones replied. The Corporal was not one that will take the shots behind any cover. He leaned out and returned fire before joining the Lord and the Sergeant.

“Sleeping on the side, huh?” Sergeant Major retorted back.

“Nay, I was on a scouting mission then.” Corporal Jones then turned to his native Welsh. “Cachu bant ti cachu mes.” (In blooming English it means Fuck off you sheep shagger.) It must have been your bloody recruitment of bloody ewes for guards. We got more than half of them gunning us.” Corporal slide down next to the Lordship who had taken cover behind the study desk with the Sergeant. “Didn’t you pay them their dues?”

“I did but it must have been not enough.” His Lordship replied. The Sergeant Major stifled his laugher on that admission.

“There is nothing funny there? They have not fancied ewes.” His Lordship then reached for the lower drawers and then drew out the gun belt with the Webley pistol. “I guessed you can hand them their allowances later.”

“Aye, in the rear Sergeant Major. Up the baton to the neck.” Jones laughed. The Sergeant Major was not amused and rushed to the fireplace to pull a lever there but nothing happened. The Corporal looked at the Lordship.

“Don’t tell me you offended the Mason too? All I did was screw his wife.” The Corporal did not wait for the reply and rushed to the window. He was to reach it when the first guard made it there with the sub-machine gun firing. The guard raked the library books on the shelves when he took the first step in. The Corporal took him down with two well-placed shots at the face. He then ran over and grabbed the guard’s gun.

“Damned! This is a Thompson. I thought they were prototypes…or army issued.” Corporal Jones remarked. The gun was made across from the continental but with the new threat, there were some brought in for evaluation. He then aimed the gun at the open window and fired off the remaining rounds.

“Bloody waste of bullets.” The Corporal discarded the machine gun before he joined his Lordship. He then saw the Sergeant Major had drawn his own Webley from the rear of his waist belt.

“You protect his Lordship. I will take point.” The Sergeant Major then rushed out. The Corporal had little option but to lead his Lordship who had then donned the gun belt. They made it to the door and the Sergeant Major peeked out. The corridor looked clear but there were nine doorways there with hidden dangers.

“Jones, we are going to run the gauntlet and be at the last door to clear out to the kitchen.” The Sergeant Major had moved on with his firm strides and the Webley was drawn to shoulder level. It was Military confidence there, and it paid off. The first head to peek out was rewarded by the Webley shot in between the eyes. The trio made down three doorways before another guard appeared at the end of the corridor. The guard managed to get a shot off before he was brought down by the Sergeant Major.

“One more door…” The Sergeant Major was jumped on by the renegade guard there with a wooden ax had jumped out of an earlier door. The ax buried itself into the wooden wall before the Jones shot the attacker.

“Thanks, Jones.” The Sergeant Major moved on till they reached the last door. He slowly opened it and peeked inside. “It’s clear, my Lordship.”

“Why the kitchen, Sergeant Major?” Lord Henry asked.

“I think I left my tea there boiling on the fire.” The Sergeant Major stepped in and then moved to the overflowing pot. He took it up and then tossed it at the attacking guard who was hiding behind the larder.  The guard had his cupful in the face but he was not complaining about the pot for it took his breath away too.

“Bloody waste to the tea leaves I had in there.”

The Sergeant Major then proceeded to the doorway that will lead them to the outside. There was another reason he was moving there. The chef was the only exceptional one to park his cranky two-seaters three-wheeler tricycle with the small boiler at the rear.

“That contraption…” Jones complained but he was the first to board it. His Lordship climbed in next but the Sergeant Major held back. He helped to push it and got it running before he ran alongside it. It was then the shots came from the other guards but the tricycle did a neat twenty miles with some dodgy moves to avoid the shots. Jones had passed the Mauser to the Sergeant Major. He stood there with his firm grip and spaced out feet to lay the cover fire before running to join his Lordship. They made it to the stables and then onto the carriage. One took the rein while the Sergeant Major rode shotgun. He climbed up on the top of the carriage and unwrap the Lewis gun there.

“I think we can make it to the airfield in time for the evening flight.” His Lordship looked up from the watch pieces. “You have to rush through. Anyone got a shilling for the tickets?”

“I guess not. My credit will do.” Lord Henry sighed. The carriage burst out of the stables with the drawn horses that were always hitched on for his Lordship have peculiar needs that required the carriage like then.

The Depth

The Sea King berthed at the quay and within minutes the unloading happened. The trading houses have lined up like puppies to be fed with the milk bottles. Captain Arthur adjourned to the Fisheries Office to register his catch.

“The Sea King.” The staff there recorded the volume and then nodded to the Captain. “There is a note in your locker. You are to meet Lord Ian Stuart.”

Lord Ian Stuart.

The Lord himself.

He owned half the Trading Houses on the pier.

He does not meet Ship Captains. They are minions to him in the ranks.

That was an unusual request.

The choice of the meet was in the Gentlemen’s Club on the posh end of the city. The members there were the selected elites and even the royalty needed to be a vet before they were invited in. The Chairman there was Lord Ian Stuart.

Captain Arthur loaned himself the three-piece suit after he had scrubbed his body four times to clear the grime and taste of the fish there. He stood there before the Club’s Steward.

“I I am here to see Lord Ian Stuart. This is my invitation. “Captain Arthur looked at the Steward. The other looked back at the Captain. He then stepped aside for the Captain to go in. The Captain was led to Main Library. His Lordship was seated there in the dressing gown as if he was at home.

“We shall meet in the Private Room.” His Lordship led the Captain to a secluded room. The place was carpeted and it held the small settee set for three-seaters and there was a personal bar. His Lordship poured himself a drink and did not offer any to the Captain

“I will be direct, Captain Arthur. You were offered an expedition by Lord Henry but I am telling you to ignore it. I will, in turn, offer you the Captaincy of my personal ship. The incentives …”

“I am not keen, Lord Ian. You may keep it. I am leaving now.” Captain Arthur turned to leave but the other stopped him.

“If you step out you may not make it alive by morning.” Lord Stuart did not mince on his threat. “I command the pier and half the city.”

“Unfortunately, I am on the other half. And I worked on the ship.” Captain Arthur flexed his shoulders. “More to it this suit makes me look like a monkey on the leash.”

With that, the Captain proceeded to open the door but the Lordship was not finished. He threw the glass of wine at the wall. It was his signal for the two stewards waiting inside to rush in. The Captain had sensed the move and stepped aside. He grabbed the first steward by the back of the neck and hurled him forward into the settee. He then stepped up behind to elbow the second steward in the face who was following close behind. He grabbed the second steward by the jaw and pulled his face down onto the flooring. He then looked at the Lordship.

“Get more of them onto me, and I will grind them into fish paste.” The Captain took his leave of the Club. He saw Stacy outside standing there with the duffle bag.

“They kicked me out.” Stacy looked at him. “I guess you too. So do we go fishing once more? Which boat?”

“You did not get in? Who are you kidding?” The Captain mocked the other. “And a lady is not allowed there.”

“Aye, which is why I waited here.” Stacy smiled. Later she told the Captain that it was no secret between them on what happens with the Captain. He smiled at her. They stopped a passing carriage and rode from there to the train station but his Lordship was not that of a person to give up. He had his men trailed the carriage.

When the carriage reached the rougher part of the city before the city, the carriage was set on by the Lordship’s men. Ten men dressed in the usual garbs swarmed the carriage with truncheons. Two pulled at the horse reins to stop the carriage while the third guy climbed up to push the driver off. The other seven reached for the left side of the carriage and toppled it over. It had so fast on the busy street but when the carriage was toppled, the passer-by had not even cleared of the carriage. It caused a commotion on the street and the two men reached to open the door but they were thrown back by the force of the door being opened from inside.

Stacy sprang out with the help of the Captain's strong arms. She soared up like an angel with her strong limbs propelling her upwards. She lashed out with her right leg in the ‘Savate’ move. The ‘Savate’ was newly formed after the generations of street fighting styles were compiled into a martial art. The kick was a ‘fouette’; literally meant a roundhouse kick with the toe impacting onto the opponent’s face. Her right leg kick dropped both men from the carriage side. She then jumped clear and did a roll before she delivered the chasse frontal left kick at the next opponent. The toe of her foot hit the man at the precise point below the jaw and the impact broke the neck. Two men had rushed at her but she crouched down to do a side sweep with her right leg at the approaching men. Her toe caught the left man at the knees and he fell into the others path.

By then the Captain had climbed out. His technique was brash with the muscles toned by the rushing waves. He jumped off the carriage and held his right forearm to block the oncoming opponent before he lay the man down with a left hook into the face. He then body slammed into the next man at the chest and held a low kick at the third man in the groin.

Stacy had dropped her next opponent with rapid jabs into the faces before she moved in with the roundhouse right kick at the side of the head. It will not have hurt but Stacy had her hard toe into the man’s ear. That burst his ear and the small bones dug into the brain tissue.

Stacy then faced her next standing opponent. The man rushed at her but she sidestepped to let him passed before she used her reverse hook left kick and then followed through with the right elbow into the side of the neck. She stood up with her fighting stance and looked at the others who had kept their distance. The remaining three men stood there were unsure of the fight and then charged in. They were met by the brute force of the Captain who rushed into them with his arms spread. He pushed them off their charge and landed them in a heap on the ground. He rolled to his right with the mighty smashing punches into the faces before turning to the left. He then pulled himself up before standing next to Stacy.

“How are you?” The Captain asked.

“My wrist hurts but the kicks are still good.” Stacy was thankful to the crews who taught her these moves. They reckoned the art will save her from unsavory sailors. “The train station is around the block. Shall we move to?”

“Are they your relations?” The Captain asked while they retrieved their bags. “They fought like women.”

“Probably from my father’s side.” Stacy’s father was a teacher at the other end of London.