Chapter 16 - Investigations
Ostend, Belgium
(Continued)

For almost a whole minute the entire League stood and stared at the hunter. There were no gasps, no exclamations- nothing but silence and shock. It was clear the hunter didn't like his current situation so he decided to speak up. "Are you all going to stand there gawking for the rest of the day?"
"You're… you're alive..." Skinner's voice faltered.

Quatermain nodded and looked behind him. "Holmes, Poirot, it's safe to come out now." The two men emerged from the stacks of crates and came to stand near Quatermain.

The League very well may have continued to stare for hours more had Jekyll not developed a sudden weakness in his legs. Sawyer wobbled as he tried to keep him upright. Skinner and Mina were quick to step in and help.
"I've got him," Skinner strained, "Come on, let's get you inside," Skinner said, taking Jekyll from the young agent and leading him into the Nautilus. As they went inside, Ishmael came out. Jekyll caught Ishmael by the arm and said something to him. Quatermain couldn't hear the conversation and he saw both the relief and disappointment in his frame.

Mina had to steady Sawyer and made him sit down on a nearby crate until his swimming vision settled. Sawyer never looked away from the hunter. Sawyer's eyes grew wide and his lips moved as though to make a noise but no words came. Quatermain leaned against his gun with both hands, unsure of whether he should help. He didn't know if Sawyer would accept him or shun him away. Seeing a smile emerging on his lips did at least give him some comfort.

"You alright, lad?" he asked, looking down to his gun and back up.
Though still in utter amazement, the young agent replied, "I'm not the only one seeing this, am I?"
"No, Sawyer," Mina smiled, casting a long glance in Quatermain's direction, as though she struggled to believe it herself. "He's back."

"H-how are you… But you- Hang on a second, I need a minute to figure this… How are you back?"
Quatermain could not help but chuckle. He had never seen Sawyer looked as dazed as he did now. Sawyer ran his hand through his hair to move it out of his face.
Quatermain said, "Explanations will have to wait for now. As good as it is to see you all, there is some business which needs taken care of."
"Uh-huh," Sawyer breathed, beginning to come to terms with Quatermain's revival. The sight of the young man not trying to push him away lifted a world of dread from the hunter's shoulders. He hadn't lost Sawyer.

Quatermain noticed that a small group of Nemo's men went in the direction that Sawyer and Jekyll had come from. It looked like Ishmael had given them some instructions. He guessed they'd gone to get the missing automobile.

Sawyer tried to get Mina to leave his head injury, but there was no chance of that happening. It didn't take long for him to give up and allow Mina to check it over. It was not the fact she was a vampire that made him reluctant to receive help. He would just rather she went to help one of Nemo's crew, instead of an injury he sustained by failing in his mission. Besides, Jekyll had already seen to him.

"So... you know about Nemo?" Sawyer asked Quatermain. Sherlock stepped closer to Quatermain, seeing the opportunity to get his own answers. "And what brings you to Belgium?" he inquired.
"Oui, today has been most eventful, but we have many more questions than answers. It may be possible that you have the answers we require," Poirot interjected.
"We too have many questions," Mina said, almost finished with checking Sawyer's head. Quatermain could tell that despite the vagueness in the statement, Mina had directed what she had said to him.

"To explain everything, we'd have to go back to when the League first formed in July. We haven't got the time for all that," Quatermain grumbled, feeling quite bombarded with it all. "As for how I'm alive, the witch doctor was right. Africa did not allow me to die... instead, she sent me to help you."

"I know who you are, and I can explain that to Monsieur Poirot later. But I was unaware you had been given an assignment. I was not expecting to see you here," Sherlock explained.
"And how would you know all that? Who are you?" Sawyer challenged.
Though the outburst was unexpected, he did have a valid point. The League had to be careful - they could only trust who they knew until more information rose to the surface.

"I am a detective. I have a relative working within the government. I learned of your existence once you stopped Moriarty, for which I am grateful for," Sherlock explained.
"It's alright, Sawyer. This is Sherlock Holmes and this is Hercule Poirot. Poirot is part of the Belgian police force. You can trust them," Quatermain explained, looking at the two men who stood before him.

Sawyer nodded, though he still didn't look completely sure.
"Holmes, what case were you following that led you to us?" Quatermain asked before the silence could befall them. He leaned against the rifle that had been left by his grave meer months ago. The rifle left by Sawyer. The very boy who he had taken in like a son and was now so thrilled to see again. But being properly reunited would have to wait; this was about Nemo, not them.

"I was trying to uncover The Mystery of the Landmark Flags. I was looking into who was placing the flags that were materialising all over the world-"
"What did you find?" Sawyer asked. He stood up from the crate now that he could find his feet and Mina was willing to move on to helping someone else. The sudden movement made him feel light-headed but he was too eager for answers over Nemo's capture to care. Sherlock was currently their best lead.
"We found out what was responsible for the flags. It was, as unbelievable as it seems, a flying ship," Sherlock answered, though it was clear he did not expect to be believed.
"No, trust me, we believe it. Did the Albatross come this way- the ship?" Sawyer questioned.

"Not exactly, mon ami, but that other machine did. We decided to follow it once we had found that the… 'Albatross' had landed," Poirot explained. Sherlock took to searching some of the bodies, but there was no sign of anything useful. The Belgian officer gestured to the black automobile which Ishmael was currently inspecting. Once it was fixed and the tyre replaced, it could still be used. So far it seemed the first mate hadn't even noticed Quatermain was there.

"How the bloody hell did they get hold of an automobile?! I thought Nemo was the only one with them," Quatermain exclaimed.
"We don't know. We had no idea that they even had one," Sawyer answered. Sawyer looked over to Quatermain and cast him a flicker of a smile, but he soon forced himself to concentrate on more important matters again.

"Perhaps we should inspect the ship?" Poirot suggested. Quatermain looked up to the very ship Nemo had been carried away on. It was an impressive size and looked like it did in his vision. It was armour-plated, a way of protecting the wood from bullets no doubt.

Quatermain looked at Sawyer and nodded. Three of the men then made their way over to the ship and climbed inside. Quatermain hesitated. Mina was looking at the hunter once more from a distance. She was on the ramp of the Nautilus. She gave a gentle smile, inclining her head slightly. Seemingly this was her private way of saying 'welcome back'. Quatermain nodded, touching the brim of his hat.

Mina smiled, adjusted her scarf and headed inside the Nautilus to help Nemo's men. There was the slightest of springs in her steps, barely noticeable, but Quatermain could see it. Deciding it best, he climbed aboard The Swallow.

It was good to finally be back.

"Oh, my stomach," Poirot groaned.
"You've only been on the ship for a few seconds, Poirot. You'll be fine," Sherlock grinned, puffing away on his pipe. They then descended a few stairs to come to the main room and a few other rooms, which was shut away behind a door. They didn't expect to find that there was water on the floor, at about ankle depth.

"They've scuttled it," Sawyer exclaimed.
"Then we'll have to be quick," Quatermain muttered.

The first room had been stripped of the things of the highest value or importance. There was only a wooden box and basic furniture left behind. A few pieces of paper were lying about on the table but they were yet to look into the next few rooms.

Quatermain and Poirot went into the other rooms, hoping to be more fortunate with their findings. The other few rooms were also completely empty - stripped of anything valuable they once held. Even though the ship was destined to sink very shortly, whoever owned this boat was taking no chances in leaving evidence behind.

"So those other people in the automobile, who were they? I never got a good look at 'em," Sawyer asked as he looked around the room for anything that was hidden, trying to see something that would help their case. His head was hurting, but he needed to stay awake. He also wanted answers to the many questions that flew through his mind.

"They were some of the greatest criminals in the world," Sherlock said as he lifted the lid on a wooden chest. It contained first aid supplies, which had almost been exhausted.

"Such as? We know a lot of those. We could do with specifics," Sawyer remarked half-heartedly as he watched Sherlock take something out of the box... a blue tattered shirt- once belonging to Nemo. It was covered in blood. Sawyer guessed it was the one he wore when he was captured.

Sawyer was about to speak about it, but Sherlock answered "Arsène Lupin and Monsieur Zenith - both infamous gentleman thieves. Their cunning can rarely be challenged but they aren't too dangerous. They're not the ones you need to worry about. There was also Fantômas. He is lethal and even the most intelligent would struggle to outwit him. There were also new names amongst them, Nyctalope was one of them. From what I was able to determine, he can see in the dark. I am unsure of the other, Robert Champeau. He seemed ordinary- perhaps a medical practitioner."

"Well, they must be able to hold their own if they're with the rest of them," Sawyer said.

Whilst Sherlock had been talking, Skinner had made his way onto the ship after helping Jekyll inside the Nautilus. He was clothed and painted so everyone could see where he was. He stood halfway down the stairs, where he waited. "Hang on. I think they're all French, and somehow I don't think it's a coincidence," he pointed out.

Sawyer looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Was the thief onto something?

"What are you all doing anyway?" he added.
"Trying to find a lead," Sawyer replied.
"You'd better take it easy, mind. I don't want you passing out on me like Jekyll almost did," Skinner said.
"Hyde had a rough fall," Sawyer answered, waving off Skinner's concerns for himself.

"Mr Skinner?" Sherlock inquired, brow furrowed.
"Allo, Sherlock. Still meddling in other people's business I see," he grinned.
"Wait, you know each other?" Sawyer interjected.
"We've known each other for years. He met me on a case. It was good fun, don't you think?"

"If solving all your thefts is considered fun, then yes. It has been a long time indeed. You look… different."
Skinner laughed. "That's because I don't 'look' anything. I wound up turning myself invisible. It's not as great as they think."
Sherlock seemed somewhat taken aback, but murmured "I see."

Finding the strength in his voice Sherlock continued "You were saying about there not being a coincidence- what makes you think that?"
"There's another one called Jean Robur whose name has gotten involved in all this. We don't know if he's still alive. Not to be presumptive or anything but for him to have a French-sounding name and his ship to play the Chant du Depart. That can't down to chance- we aren't that lucky."

"Robur?" Sherlock said. "We overheard that someone under that name had received a message from Lupin." Skinner's gaze shot up towards Sawyer. Things weren't looking good.
Skinner cringed. "So now either he's alive, or he's got a relative. Ishmael's not going to take that news well."

"You don't suppose other countries are following suit, do you? Making their own Leagues?" Sawyer suggested.
"If the French Government have any sense about them, then they would not be letting their League fight our own. It would put neither nation in a good position, not with a potential war looming. I doubt you know what they want Nemo for at this point?" Quatermain pointed out. Sawyer shook his head. "It might just be for revenge," Quatermain added.

Poirot returned from his brief and fruitless search of a room. "Messieurs, do not forget who is in their company. Arsène Lupin would not allow anyone to kill out of revenge. He does not commit such atrocities himself and would not permit anyone else to do so," Poirot justified thoughtfully.
"I'm pretty sure he's the one with the moustache and he sure didn't seem so bothered about killing when he was shooting at us. He almost killed Hyde - and me come to think of it," Sawyer grumbled.

"He has a good aim on him. He could have shot you in the head and had done with it. Lupin won't kill - that doesn't mean he won't break skin and bone. Besides, this friend you're looking for seemed quite unharmed when we saw him," Sherlock said.
"Well, that's something at least," Skinner said. "But I'm not trusting Nemo's welfare with some cocky little thief."

Sherlock looked to see if the wooden chest held any more answers like a secret compartment or an extra lock. He found nothing.

Sawyer went into the final room to see what he could find. When he first opened the door he was met with more water. He ignored it and went inside. After a few minutes, he returned triumphantly with a small but heavy box. It was locked with a hefty padlock. The water in that room was much deeper and had so gushed out into the rest of the rooms. Their shoes and half of their shins were surrounded by water. Poirot grumbled at the condition of his clothes.

"Let's grab whatever you can see and get out of here before we end up taking on too much water. I can feel the ship tilting and I don't fancy being fish food," Skinner said. Sherlock lifted up the small chest and took it off the ship, in case it still held some precious answers. Poirot followed him, more than eager to leave. Sawyer carried the box he had found. Quatermain was about to leave but decided to pick up the few bits of paper on the table- just in case.

With that, the League abandoned The Swallow to her fate.