Revolution
Chapter 27

"Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot."
- Guy Fawkes

Chauvelin stared defiantly at his captors. The sheer humiliation of being captured stung. His men were dead, he was unarmed and at the mercy of the Underground. What would they do to him? He was Second Reich, they were Underground; no doubt there was be some sort of revenge. Dante's men, the Kwaden especially, had been made to believe that capture by the Underground meant torture, degradation and ultimately death, but somehow Chauvelin doubted that. The Black Duke and his allies seemed honorable enough.

And the boy. Good lord, how had they shot the boy?

The guards had dragged him over to where everyone was gathered. The Black Duke stared at him, along with his invisible and dark-haired friend. There were gasps and worried looks all around him, but he ignored them. The Black Duke, so near him for the second time around, but this time he was at his mercy. Pathetic, Dante and Reed would say. Utterly pathetic.

Tom was about to say something, when Jimmy rushed out from nowhere and kicked Chauvelin between the legs. Damon and Skinner dragged him back as he doubled over. "You killed me best mate! Murderer! Murderer!"

"Jimmy!" Skinner struggled to keep him away. "He's not dead, Owen'll live!"

"Murderer!" Jimmy sobbed, collapsing against Skinner's coat. He clung to him. "Murderer..."

Skinner was left in the awkward position of comforting Jimmy as Tom issued his orders, his jaw clenched. "Lock him up. I'll deal with him later."

He swept off to the hospital tent. Chauvelin looked up just in time to see Damon shoot him a dagger-like glare.

Murderer. Is this what I have become?

"You want to what?" Damon exploded. He drew his gun again, fully intending to blow Chauvelin's brains all over the inside of the tent, but Tom stopped him.

"I can help you," Chauvelin repeated, his soft French accent very much out of place in a tent. "I know a great many things...where Dante and Reed are — how to get past the guards and defenses — everything."

Tom regarded him in the lamplight. They were burning the gasoline lamp at half-down in order to save on fuel. The result was a low glow and it made him look much older than he really was. He considered the Frenchman for a moment or two, almost as if he was unsure of what to make of him.

There was something about him that suggested Chauvelin had changed sides. He was not entirely sure what it was — it definitely wasn't in his voice, because it was still the same. He had no idea why, but he had a feeling that they could trust Chauvelin, at least to some extent. Over the years he had learned how to read people; he trusted his instincts. Mostly.

"Where are Dante and Reed?" he asked.

Damon growled loudly, sounding very much like an angry wolf, but he kept silent.

"The Tower," Dante's young protégé answered. "Emergency plans that were drawn up years ago stated that Dante and Reed would be moved to the Tower of London if there was a war of any sort. They'll be there."

"Along with the Kwaden and a whole lot of troops!" Damon interjected. "Don't believe him, Tom, he's just trying to lead us into a trap."

"Do you think I would waste my men like that just for a trap?" he shot back. "Do you think I would have shot a child for a trap?"

Tom sent Skinner and Damon outside, glaring the latter down until he turned and stalked out. He and Chauvelin looked at each other as the American crossed his arms over his chest.

"Let's get something straight," he said shortly. "I don't trust you."

"Understandable."

"Call me crazy, but," Tom ran a hand through his hair, "I'm willing to give this a shot."

"Thank you."

"You'll be constantly under armed guard. If you try anything funny, my men will be ordered to shoot to kill. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"And if I find out you're lying to us —"

"— may God have mercy on my soul."

Tom supposed that was a little extreme, but that more or less summed up everything. He nodded and left the tent, letting the guards step in to keep guard over Chauvelin.

"Well?" Damon demanded, marching up to him. He wasn't as livid as he had been before, but his body language was still aggressive. Skinner looked a little worried as he tagged along. Blake had joined the two and looked pensive, especially with his arms crossed over his chest.

"He's on our side. Blake, I want you to get the men ready for an all-out assault," Tom said crisply. His strides were long and purposeful as he headed for the medical tent to inform the doctors. "We move at night, the day after tomorrow. We'll need a security detail for Chauvelin, so make sure they're armed."

Blake was off in a flash. "Aye-aye, sir."

"Tom, you can't be serious," Damon was saying. "He's gonna lead us straight into a trap!"

He wasn't heard; mentally, Tom was going over all the things they would need to do before they could set off. "Skinner, go find Mina and tell her to spread the word among her assassin friends. I want to see her and the rest of the generals in the control tent in ten minutes." Skinner slipped away from the group, blending into the crowds to seek out the vampiress.

The activity around camp increased. Whether or not it was because of Blake and Skinner having completed their tasks, Tom was not sure. He was behind the medical tent when Damon finally lost it. "Thomas Sawyer! Are you listening to me?"

He grabbed his sleeve, causing him to stop. Actually, he had been caught up in his thoughts, but Damon pressed on. "You gotta listen to me, Tom, Chauvelin's up to no good. It's a trap and we're going to be massacred the minute we enter Tower grounds. If," he added darkly, "we even make it that far!"

"Damon." Tom was deadly serious. He was the leader of the worldwide Underground movement, and he was in control. It was the other side of him that rarely ever came out. When it did, Tom Sawyer became a formidable force, one that was not to be reckoned with unless you were extremely foolish or extremely brave. "You've got to trust me on this. Yeah, it's a huge risk. Don't ask me why I trust him, because I don't know, but I do, and I think I'm right on this."

"Tom —"

"Hear me out," Tom cut him off. "It's a big leap of faith, but you gotta trust me, Damon." Of all the people's trust he needed now, it was Damon's. "I don't fully trust him either, that's why Blake and his men will be guarding him at all times. But he's changed sides, Damon, he's with us now. It may be because of Owen, or Jimmy, or all the homeless kids and the suffering he's seen since he got here, or it maybe he was gonna join us all along. I don't know why, but I'm damn sure he has."

"What if you're wrong?" Damon said softly.

Tom countered that easily enough. "What if I'm right? What would happen if we don't trust him, if we take everything he says as a lie? We stand a greater chance of losing, that's what. I don't want to lose. I don't want everything to go back to the way it was under Dante." He took the other man by the shoulders. "Will you trust me, Damon? Will you help me?"

There was such earnestness and honesty in his voice only a deaf man could miss it. The need to live, to win, was all too clear in Tom's blue eyes. Damon supposed he didn't have much of a choice. He sighed. "I'll let the kids know."

They had been in meeting for almost three hours, discussing battle plans and troop movement. Chauvelin was brought in to mark out guard posts and to tell them everything he knew. It was plenty of useful information that was duly noted and used. Extensive knowledge of London's streets and back alleys, courtesy of Skinner and Jimmy, came in handy. It was well after midnight when they were able to come up with a workable, viable assault plan. It involved all the Underground and its allies, which in itself was a dangerous maneuver. Should they fail, backup would not come. In fact, there would be no backup at all. The gravity of the situation was not lost on anyone.

Many of those present were bleary-eyed by the end, but all of them had a vague sense of satisfaction as they reviewed their strategy one last time.

"Okay. Let's go through this one more time." Tom stretched like a cat. "Tomorrow, starting from six o'clock, the garrisons will start going to their respective places. No mass movement so the Second Reich won't notice. Small groups by the hour. By midnight everyone should be in place. One group beneath Westminster Bridge and two below Waterloo Bridge. When Big Ben strikes one o'clock, all the boats will leave shore."

He tapped the pins that had been stuck on the map. "Alpha group will land at Big Ben. Beta will land on Victoria Embankment, next to Cleopatra's Needle (#1). Gamma will also come ashore on Victoria Embankment, but they'll be in front of Somerset House. They will make contact with our men and bring weapons and medicine."

"Beta will be made up primarily of the assassins," Mina said coolly. "Redmayne (#2) has agreed to lead the team. They will cover Gamma." When questioning glances were thrown her way, she shrugged lightly. "I shall be joining Agent Sawyer."

Nemo took over the narration. "Meanwhile, the Nautilus would have arrived at Customs House. The men who will join us are Delta team."

"Which I will lead, along with Captain Nemo," Damon chipped in. "We'll fight our way through this whole stretch. This will draw the Kwaden and any troops out of Tower grounds. While we're doing that, Tom and the others enter the Tower." He looked at Tom, who caught the cue.

"Me, Skinner, Mina and the assassins, Blake's detail and Chauvelin will use a few of the Nautilus' lifeboats to enter the Tower by Traitor's Gate. We'll get it open when Chauvelin pretends he managed to 'escape in the chaos'." He made quotation signs with his fingers. "With any luck, Dante will be dead by morning." There were no questions. All of them looked at each other in silent agreement.

The final showdown was about to begin.

(#1) Cleopatra's Needle was presented to the UK in 1819 by the Egyptian viceroy of the time in commemoration of the victories of Horatio Nelson and Ralph Abercromby. The government welcomed the gesture, but it did not transport it back to London. In 1877, Sir William James Erasmus Wilson sponsored its transportation to London at a cost of ten thousand pounds. After a rather interesting and long adventure, it finally made its way to London, where it was erected on Victoria Embankment in August 1879. It is one of three needles; the other two are in Paris' Place de la Concorde and New York's Central Park.

(#2) Gaspard Redmayne is a forger and assassin, villain of a story called Brought to Justice (publication date unknown), which was the second detective story starring Gideon Barr. He was created by Harry Blyth.