Revolution
Chapter 25

As close as we are today, tomorrow when we come back from that battlefield, we will be as close as two men can possibly be, sharing a bond that can only be forged in the face of imminent disfigurement. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.
- Jeff Melvoin

The fighting spread through London like a wildfire. Some people compared it to the fire that destroyed most of London in the seventeenth century, and they were right. While not quite as devastating, the fighting took its toll on the city's buildings. The men had been quick to take up arms and even though many of them had no formal military training, it took the Underground three days to secure the south of the river. Many of the residents there had given up without a fight, sure that they would be able to tide out the war if they lay low and didn't make a sound.

Damon, Skinner and Tom were on the front lines. Hyde was seen at many battles, often charging towards a group of terrified men, bellowing curses and threats. Most of them scattered before he came anywhere near them, but it had the wonderful effect of chasing most of their enemies away.

Most of the assassins chose not to take part in the fighting, even though a good number of them chose to take sides. Fortunately for the Underground, the professional killers joined their ranks instead of the Second Reich. Mina led the makeshift corps, leading small groups on killing rampages through the ranks of the Second Reich. Dozens were killed before anyone noticed something was wrong.

The Second Reich were also quick to respond. Kwaden, soldiers and troops were deployed all over to the city, and eventually the Underground troops were forced to retreat.

Tom was running towards Tower Bridge with the rest of his men. It had dawned on them quite early on in their most recent battle that the Second Reich had gotten their act together; they were outnumbered and underarmed. They had to regroup if they didn't want their casualty rate to soar.

"Back! Across the bridge, quick!" Arsène was yelling. He took a few shots at the Second Reich who were hot in pursuit. They were the last batch to head across the bridge. "Quickly!" Tom and Blake took aim with their rifles and fired. Two men at the front dropped down dead as the they started running again. They took cover behind an abandoned cart left, with other vehicles, two-thirds of the way across the bridge.

"We need to blow the bridge up or they're gonna cross!" Arsène heard Tom yell to Blake.

"We don't have the time," Blake said to Tom, ducking down again as bullets flew over his head. "We'd need to rig the dynamite but by the time we did that they would be across."

"Leave it to me," Arsène told them, peering around the cart. "I know how to work the mechanisms. I shall raise the bascules."

"What!" Tom was aghast. "That's suicide! You'll be caught behind enemy lines."

"I know," Arsène said, as if he didn't care. "Monsieur Blake...?"

Blake loaded his rifle and cocked it. "I have you covered."

"Merci," Arsène nodded. "I shall see you again, monsieur Duke, perhaps only after this war is over. Until we meet again — good luck." He saluted him and turned to Blake. "On the count of three, then. One, two, three!" He dashed out from the cart, ducking and dodging the bullets aimed for him.

Blake rose from his spot and fired, Tom joining him soon after. They took down six or seven more men as the French thief made a mad dash for safety. Some of their men took aim also and more of the enemy dropped like flies; Arsène slipped behind a Ford and disappeared down the side of the bridge, running towards the control room where he could give the order to raise the Tower Bridge's two bascules.

The fire fight was fierce, but eventually Tom began to realise that they were rising up into the air. He made it! His mind screamed. The bascules were raising and if they could just hold the fort for a little bit more...

The cart began to slide down as the two ends of the bridge rose higher and higher. There were the sounds of metal hitting metal as the bullets finally ceased their assault. Blake and Tom abandoned their hiding place and scrambled down the road, which was getting steeper. They hit the ground and dove for cover as the cart crashed down where they had been standing moments ago. A terrible metallic squealing came from the underground engines, as if someone had shoved something between the giant gears. They jammed at their highest point.

"Sawyer!" Skinner ran to them. "You okay? Blake?"

"We're fine," Tom assured him, standing up from where he had rolled away from the splintered mass of wood. He dusted himself off. "We're fine." He glanced back towards the other bank of the river, trying to spot Arsène. Was he dead? Injured, maybe even captured? If so, then Tom took comfort in the knowledge that his brother-in-arms would not spill any information, no matter how much torture Dante and his men inflicted upon him.

"Where's Lupin?" Skinner asked, looking around. "Wasn't he with you?"

Tom left Blake to explain everything, instead going over to a group of injured men being treated by a haggard Dr. Seward. He asked the doctor what their casualties were.

"Lower than we had first predicted," he said, "Thank goodness we have enough medicine and other supplies" — he pressed a swathe of bandages against a cut on one man's head — "otherwise our death toll would be much higher than it is now." He gave a nod to Tom as he moved to another patient that seemed to say 'I respect you for the foresight'.

"Yeah, well, my Auntie Polly always said it's better to be safe than sorry." Tom smiled and scratched his head. Seward smiled back and set about making a tourniquet for another patient. Skinner came up to him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Damon wants to see you now," he told the other man. "Says it's important. He's in the hospital tent."

Tom's heart sank. One of his closest friends was behind enemy lines; another was injured and in the hospital. He and Skinner set off hurriedly, passing the regrouping forces. "What happened to him?"

"Took a bullet to the leg." Skinner passed the street kids, who were reloading their catapults with rocks. "Near Big Ben. Mina says he'll be up and about soon, provided he actually sits down and rests."

Tom let a ghost of a smile come over his features. That was the Damon Archer he knew, always spunky and refusing to sit down. A lot like him, actually. He pushed open the flap of the hospital tent and entered. Damon was at the corner; upon seeing him, he waved and they joined him by his cot. With him was another man. The first thing that struck him was that the other man was corpulent. His watery grey eyes were framed by a massive face. There was something about him, though, that seemed to speak of a keen intelligence and a sharp wit.

"Tom," Damon said urgently. "Thank god you're here. Mycroft was just about to go."

"Mycroft Holmes (#1), sir," the man said, extending a broad, fat hand. Skinner gaped at him in shock as Tom shook it. "You may have heard of my brother Sherlock."

"Are you kidding?" Tom smiled broadly. "They talk about him in the States."

Damon was getting impatient. "Tom, Mycroft and Sherlock have been hiding someone very important for the past ten years." Tom's quizzical gaze turned on their visitor.

"Yes. Well, you see — when the Great War broke out and it became apparent that the Her Majesty's Imperial Army was not able to hold off the invading forces, the Royal Family were evacuated," Mycroft started. "The court and the Royal Family had planned to escape to Ireland or Scotland and bide their time there, hoping to raise an army to combat Dante's forces — if they invaded — or, if they did not, for their own safety." He paused. "As you know, the family and their entourage were massacred before they could leave England."

Tom frowned. That was one of Dante's all-time lows; he had remembered getting news of the death of the entire Royal Family. Subsequent months had seen more deaths as Dante had consolidated his power on the throne.

"My brother and I were travelling in the area at that time. A young boy, no more than four years old, came running out of the woods. He was incoherent and crying. We quickly discovered that he was, in fact, Albert Frederick Arthur George, the last remaining child of the House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (#2)." Mycroft levelled a steady gaze on the bewildered Skinner and shocked Tom. "He has lived with us for the past decade to keep him alive as Dante killed off anyone even remotely related to the throne. My brother is with him now in Sussex Downs (#3)."

Damon summed it all up. "Victoria's grandson lives."

(#1) Mycroft is the brother of Sherlock Holmes, older by seven years. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle first introduced him in The Greek Interpreter (1893)and he went on to appear in a number of other stories. His powers of observation and deduction exceed that of Sherlock, but unlike his distinguished brother, he is too lazy and apathic to act on them.

(#2) Albert Frederick Arthur George Windsor would, in 1936, ascend to the throne to become King George VI. He is the grandfather of Queen Elizabeth II. He is most famous for tiding Britain through World War 2. During the First World War, his father George V changed the name of the Royal Family to Windsor as Saxe-Coburg-Gotha was perceived to sound too German. As World War 1 never occurred in this timeline, he is referenced here with his father's original last name. He died in early 1952.

(#3) Sherlock Holmes retired to Sussex Downs, a small seaside community in England. The Adventure of the Lion's Mane (released 1926) is set there.