The Treasure of the Penelope
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: You may already know I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: Following my story Into Africa.
This is a sequel to Into Africa. I've tried to explain the backstory, but you might want to read it if you haven't already. Don't worry, I'll be right here and won't start this story until you're back.
"What's next?" Rick asked as the SUV pulled away.
"Maps."
"Maps?"
"Maps. We have maps made by the British during the Revolution, modern maps, satellite maps and the maps made by the ground penetrating radar. I want you to know this area as well as I do."
Rick soon discovered that Kate was very good with maps. Of course, Rick was very good with maps himself. They worked into the late afternoon and then the two of them cooked dinner. After dinner, they both worked on their respective books.
At bedtime Kate hopped onto the bed wearing only panties and a cropped tee shirt. Rick had on his boxers.
"I have some more of Flood's Dig for you to review." Rick handed her his laptop. Kate took it eagerly, wanting to see how retired Special Forces sergeant Joe Flood was doing on the archeological dig. She began reading aloud.
"Joe couldn't help but notice that Doctor Nikki Heat, the leader of the dig, was an extremely beautiful woman. Joe had seen thousands of beautiful women, but none even came close to Nikki Heat." Kate smirked. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"
Rick smiled back. "I'm just doing what you asked for."
Kate continued to read. "Nikki's long, lithe and toned legs were perfect, as was her spectacularly rounded, firm perfect ass." She giggled. "And her pert and perky D cup boobs were straining against her skin tight, soaking wet tee shirt, and as Nikki never wore a bra her…."
Kate glared at Rick. "Nikki does not have D cup boobs. And she would not go braless in a skin tight, wet tee shirt."
"Of course, she does. See? It's right there."
"Nikki is not some top-heavy bimbo, Major Rodgers. She's me."
"She's based on you, but she's not you. Nikki went to Harvard, you went to Stanford. Your parents are college professors while Nikki's are…"
"Do you want me to erase everything you've written so far?" Kate said, her finger hovering over the "delete" key.
Rick shook his head and tried to keep from laughing. "I'll delete the offending words, Dear Doctor Beckett. Do you mind if I keep in the parts about Nikki's great legs and ass?"
'Fine, but you're going to have to be extremely nice to me tonight."
"How nice?" Rick asked innocently.
Kate pushed her panties off and pulled off her tee. "Get your tongue to work, Rodgers, and I'll tell you when you're done."
The Moon had gone down and Rick and Kate were sound asleep in their bed. At the sound of the first shot, Rick rolled out of bed, taking Kate with him. He rolled over so that he was on top of her, hopefully protecting her.
"Nightmare?" Kate asked.
"Someone's shooting at us."
"You were dreaming, Rick. Go back to sleep and…."
Two more shots rang out, followed by a third. A voice yelled at them.
"Go back up north where you belong, you damned nigger lovers."
"I'm going outside." Rick said, starting to crawl to the door.
"No. You don't have a gun. You could be killed."
"I'm going anyway."
"Stark naked?" Kate pointed out.
"Yes. Stark naked."
"Then I'm going with you."
"Without a bra?"
"If I have to."
Then they heard the sound of a car's engine and the sound of tires spinning on gravel.
"He's gone. "Rick said, grabbing a flashlight.
"He may not be gone. We need to put on some clothes. I am not going to be found dead, stark naked with my nude boyfriend, with my pert and perky B cup boobs there for all to see."
Rick gathered up his clothes and got dressed. Once outside, they could see nothing. They went back to the camper and dialed 911.
It took no longer than five minutes for a deputy sheriff to arrive. They quickly told him what had happened.
"Y'all sure you'd know what gunfire sounds like and not a car backfiring?" The deputy asked, somewhat condescendingly.
Rick pulled out his ID. "I'm a major in the US Army Special Forces and I damned well know what gunfire sounds like."
After that, the deputy was more polite.
"You say your vehicle wasn't hit?" The deputy said as he checked the camper with his flashlight.
"No, I'd say the rounds went over us."
The deputy shined his light towards the ocean.
"I'm betting that your shooter made damned sure his rounds went into the ocean. No way we'll ever find 'em. I'll have the crime scene boys come out tomorrow when it's light. Can't see nothin' now. Y'all have a good evening."
The Crime Scene crew showed up at dawn, but didn't find much.
"We found some place over on Bellarmine Road that looks like someone scattered the gravel in a big hurry. That probably means your shooter shot from Old Man Tucker's Swamp." He gestured with his chin to the wetlands to the north.
"Any chance it was old man Tucker?" Rick asked.
"Seein' as how he's been dead for some fifty years, I doubt it."
Just as the crime scene crew was leaving, Ron Fields showed up. He got out of his car carrying one of Rick's 12 gauge shotguns and two 1911A1 Colt automatic pistols with holsters and pistol belts. And lots of ammo.
"Why did you bring two Colts, Ron?" Rick asked.
Ron looked puzzled. "Kate called me just after you did and told me you'd forgotten to ask me to bring a pistol for her."
Rick turned to Kate. "I forgot?"
Kate shrugged. "I overheard you this morning. You must have forgotten since you didn't ask Ron to bring one for me." Hoping to change the subject, she asked. "Is it legal for us to be armed?"
"North Carolina is what they call a permissive open carry state. You can openly carry a firearm without the necessity of a permit. And now to get back to you carrying a gun. I let you carry an M4 in Niger because things were very dangerous, but I only had ten or fifteen minutes to try to teach you how to shoot."
"And who says I don't already know how to shoot?" Kate shot back.
"Doctor Beckett, the New York archeologist, who grew up on a college campus knows how to shoot?"
"Yes!" Kate said with a glare.
"Okay, let's see you shoot." He grabbed both Colts and headed for the ocean. "Okay, see those rocks to out left? At the far end there's a light colored rock that's…"
Rick got no further when Kate shot, hitting the rock and knocking a piece off of it.
"Okay, now how about the grey rock to the right on top…"
Kate fired again, knocking the rock into the water.
Rick turned around to face a smiling Kate.
"Okay, what aren't you telling me, Kate?"
"My dad started out as a history professor and his specialization was the American Civil War. He joined one of the Civil War reenactment groups, the 69th New York Volunteer Infantry, the Fighting Irish. I was taught to shoot when I was a teenager by a retired US Army infantryman and by a Boston cop. I started with the Colt 1851 Navy revolver, then an 1858 Remington, and then a copy of the Henry rifle. And I'm pretty good, aren't I?"
Rick smiled. "You're not just good, Kate, you're spectacular."
Kate leaned up and kissed him.
"But," He went on, "you need to know when and who not to shoot. So, stay close to me if there's any danger."
"Rick?" Ron Fields called out. "There's another police car here."
Rick and Kate walked back to the RV to find Ron talking to a plain clothes cop. He had on a semi-uniform tan suit with a white Stetson. A badge and a pistol were on his belt.
"Ah, sheriff." Ron said. "These are my friends Major Rick Rodgers and Doctor Kate Beckett. "
The man held out his hand. "Sheriff Emory Bloodstone, at your service, sir and ma'am. When Deputy Macon told me you'd had some trouble out here, I just had to drop by myself and have a look. I see you're all loaded for bear." He gestured to the guns the three held.
"I'm kind of used to looking after myself and mine." Rick said, wondering how the sheriff would take that.
''Just fine, Major Rodgers, just remember that you're not downrange any more."
"I will."
Bloodstone rubbed his forehead. "I'm thinking that your shooter was some damned white trash peckerwood that hasn't realized this is the 21st century. There's one that lives not too far from here. I'll pay him a visit once I leave here." Bloodstone laughed. "At least it wasn't someone trying to chase you away from the treasure. Not this far north."
"Treasure?" All three said at once.
"You don't know about that?" When all three shook their heads, Bloodstone went on. "Luckily my momma is the county historian, has an office in the county library and everything. Anyway, back in the Revolution, the British took Charleston, South Carolina in 1780, having taken Savannah, Georgia, in 1778. North Carolina in those days was pretty much a no man's land with fighting between Patriots and Tories, what they called loyalists, like the people who lived here in Queenstown."
"We pretty much know that." Rick said, hoping to hurry the sheriff along.
"I suppose you do. Anyway, in late 1780 the British sent two ships south from New York City, their main base in the north. They were HMS Jupiter and HMS Penelope, both 28-gun frigates. Both ships carried reinforcements for the garrisons in the south, mainly companies from the Loyalist King's American Regiment. However, the Penelope also carried gold to pay the troops and for the general expenses of the British. They got caught in a storm and HMS Jupiter got blown damn near to Africa. The Penelope lost all three masts, but stayed pretty near America. When the storm abated, Penelope was off of North Carolina. She managed to jury rig a mast and sailed slowly towards Charleston. Word had gotten out that Penelope carried a fortune in gold. However, the US Navy was pretty much non-existent but there were a lot of American privateers. They caught up with Penelope, but all together the privateers were no match for a 28- gun frigate, even a damaged one. But the Penelope had been damaged below the waterline and was taking on water. The captain decided that he had to run his ship aground or risk having it sink under him. They ran it onto a sandbank and took to their boats. They took the gold with them and about two hundred armed sailors and maybe a hundred soldiers. The privateers landed and roused the Patriot militia. Hell, the whole of North Carolina probably turned out when word of the gold got out. The local militia sniped at the British, hit and run, and wore them down. Finally, a wounded Loyalist officer staggered into Queenstown. He told them that they had buried the gold and the survivors were headed for Queenstown. He was the only one who made it, all the rest died. And he died before he could tell anyone where the gold was buried."
"No one ever found the gold?" Kate asked.
Bloodstone shook his head. "People have been digging since 1780 and no one's found anything. And it can't be here, because if it got to old Queenstown, the British wouldn't have had to bury it. Stands to reason."
"So whoever shot a them last night…?" Fields let the question hang.
"Probably some dumbass redneck just blowing off steam." Bloodstone checked his watch. "I gotta get going, folks. Nice to have met y'all. If you need anything, just call."
That night, Rick slept fully dressed, much to Kate's displeasure, and kept his weapons close at hand. Nothing happened.
The next morning as they were putting the breakfast dishes away, they heard a vehicle coming.
"Expecting company?" Rick asked.