Preys and Predators Part 1 Chapter 46

 46           Help on the way.

 

Mycroft rushed up the stairs to the surprise of Mrs. Hudson, and no flowers were handed to her. She stepped to the open front door and looked outside. There was a coach there waiting, and to the rear of it were two wagons.

“Oh, I will think they would not want tea and scones. Nor will I get flowers today.”

Mycroft rushed into the unit where Holmes was living. Holmes had put on his ulster, having a peek at the waiting coach. He saw the arrival of Mycroft there.

“Watson is grabbing his revolver.” Holmes told his brother. “What have you got?”

“A dozen men with arms and...” “Mycroft, what have you got that entails you to bring the calvary? Pardon me, it was the last hours of reading the Western literature. Obviously, you have Doctor Jekyll’s whereabouts."

“I do. A lad came looking for Holmes and spoke to my man earlier today. He told my man the message from the doctor. The fellow is at Lord Dennis’ estate. He asked for help.”

“Obviously.” Holmes replied and placed on his deerstalker hat. It was then that Doctor Watson emerged. He had on the shoulder holster with the Webley tucked underneath his left armpit.

“I am ready, Holmes.”

“Watson, I brought the Martini Henry rifle for your use in the coach. We might be in a gunfight.” Mycroft told the doctor. “You do recall how to shoot one?”

“I bloody well do. I shot a crow at five hundred yards, dead on its rear feather, to scare it off.” Watson beamed a smile. “Who do we have to shoot now?”

“Anyone you fancy when they shoot back at you.” Mycroft smiled. The trio then went downstairs and mounted the coach there.

Once inside the coach, Mycroft told his brother. “I checked the coach before we started. No explosives found.” Mycroft smiled.

“We are to proceed from the woods where the doctor was last seen. That is from the northern side of the estate.”

“How many of your men are there?” Doctor Watson asked.

“Five with me, will be six. That is why I added you and Holmes.”

“So, we would be the Magnificent Seven considering Holmes would not shoot at all.” Doctor Watson smiled. “A magnificent squad number.”

“Pardon me, Watson. I do shoot. I did at then when I joined the hunters during the duck season. It was the earlier meets of the National Rifle Association then. The Queen officiated the first meet with the shot on the rifle handed to her. I bagged half a dozen dusks then.” Holmes defended his shooting.

“The Queen used a silken cord to pull the trigger of a pre-aimed rifle, the iron bullet hitting the target though at I was told quite a distance away.” Mycroft smiled. (Extract from https://www.historytoday.com/miscellanies/english-rifles-victorian-nra)

“What did you use to shoot with?” Doctor Watson asked Holmes.

“Martini Henry.” Holmes replied and displayed the rifle offered to him by his brother.

Meanwhile across the city, Colonel Moran was briefing the assembled there at his club. He had called on friends from the military and the great game hunters. They came there armed for the upcoming battle. The old boys from his regiment were armed with Martini Henry and the bandolier of bullets. They numbered about ten among the gathered: retired servicemen with their iconic sideburns and moustaches, but some had developed the wider girth at the waist.

“Bloody time we get to shoot once again. I had bad dreams that I would die in bed rather than at the battlefield.” A retired major voiced out to his peers.

“Say what?” The other was the retired artillery captain, who had covered one too many campaigns with the huge guns.

“Nothing of importance, sir." The retired Major Sergeant spoke out in the stern voice. “We are to battle soon.”

“Anyone seen my cane?” A retired Colonel asked.

“You could lean on me anytime, Colonel Sir. Or my rifle.” The Sergeant Major stepped up to the elderly Colonel.

“Thank you, Sergeant Major. Are we riding there?”

“I have not the faintest idea, Colonel Sir. I can arrange a horse for you if we are to march.” The non-commissioned officer replied. He was glad to be there among the officers he once served. It was a relief compared to being at home with Gladys or telling the chaps at the pub on his exploits. Well, soon he will be telling them new exploits.

There was another group there: the game hunter and adventurers; some were from the Adventurer Club and were armed with the elephant rifle for the penetrating shot, but most were armed with the Martini Henry or the single Mosin Nagant carried by Olad from the Baltics—the five-shot, bolt-action, internal magazine-fed military rifle.

“Five shots per magazine. I do not have to reload on every shot.” Oscar was proud to display his rifle.

“You cannot shoot the hen in the barn with that.” Michael Murray, the big gun hunter, roared out.

“If I were to use that on a charging rhinoceros, I will be ushering you at the queue to meet St. Peters.”

“I am Jewish. I will go to Gan Eden.” The hunter behind Olad spoke out. “We could be neighbours."

“Gentlemen, thank you for turning up. We are going to look for the monsters who terrorized the city. It is a kill-only policy. There may be others; I will term them as handlers or protectors of these monsters. Do not hesitate; it is kill or be killed.”

“Those still keen can wait for the coaches arriving soon. Bring your own bullets and rifles.” Colonel Moran then stepped away.

“We will go in from the creek. That is the south direction.”

“No free bullets?” The Jewish hunter asked. He was not told of any.

At a more private location in a warehouse, Professor Moriarty assembled his own army—five trained killers. They are some of the bests—Albanian mercenaries. He had told them of their tasks.

“Our task is the doctor and the count. Do not hesitate to stop anyone getting in your way.” Professor Moriarty looked at them. “This young couple will join you. Her name is Mary …....”

“No names, Doctor. We shall address them as Sir and Missy.” Ermir, the leader, cut off the doctor. He was dressed in the dark tunic and pants with the army boots. He had the twin daggers on the belt slung across his chest and the gun holster with revolver on his right side. He held the double-gauge shotgun in his right hand. The bullets for the shotgun were in the pouch at the left side of his gun holster.

“I am No. One, and we go by that ranking.” It was all understood, and they set off on the wagon laden with daily supplies. No. 1 and 2 were the ones driving the wagon with the covered back over the others. They were to ride there on the pretext of delivering supplies at the servant’s entrance on the west side of the castle.

“Have you been so close to so many men?” No. 5 asked the Missy.

“Once. We called it a foursome. But here it is five... I guessed we need more of me here.” Mary felt the pinch on her left arm where Jon was seated. He was carrying the Winchester Model 1876, or Centennial Model, a heavier-framed rifle chambered for full-powered centre-fire rifle cartridges suitable for big-game hunting.

 

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