Chapter 33 - Infiltration
The Nautilus, Coast of Island X: September 30th

After speaking to an equally baffled Pavan, the news that the League heard was not what they wanted. The Nautilus had not fired a single shot, so the explosion must have come from the Island itself. Finding Ishmael and Nemo had just become far harder than what they hoped. Had those two done it?

The League hurried to prepare for the conflict. Skinner went to wipe his grease paint off and Jekyll to get his potion. Sawyer and Quatermain had to go for their guns and to top up how much ammunition they were carrying. Mina changed into more suitable clothing for fighting. Meanwhile, Pavan brought the Nautilus back to her birthplace. The acting captain steered with an expert hand, but he was still cautious. He had never steered the ship in these waters himself before.

Skinner and Mina made their way to the conning tower of the Nautilus and out into the open air. It was bad weather. The winds were strong and the rain heavy. There wasn't much light due to the black clouds overhead and the fact that they had the cover of night.

"Is this a good time to mention that I don't like heights either?" Skinner asked, removing his coat and guiding Mina to where his arms were. She seized hold.
"Then I wouldn't look down," Mina replied but her voice was harsh, like a growl as she allowed herself to turn into a more vampiric state.

Without warning they were up in the air and Skinner couldn't help but give a little shout in alarm. They went to an impressive height as Mina forced herself to ignore him, she could feel his pulse on her fingers; the blood gushing through his veins. She struggled to focus. Not Skinner, she couldn't feed on him. Not him, just a little longer.

Mina looked at the Albatross and tried to concentrate on reaching it. The wind threatened to push her out of the air but she kept on track with a furious determination. She needed her willpower of steel now more than ever.

It did not take them long to make it onto the ship. Skinner had to admit the Albatross was impressive. It wasn't anywhere as near as big as the Nautilus but still, for something like that to be able to fly! There were thirty or so masts, each with two screws on top to give her flight. Amongst it all, there were multiple cabins on the deck, which Skinner guessed he would have to check later. The wind and the amount of air the screws projected made it very difficult for Mina to fly. He hoped she was strong enough to hold on.

She dropped Skinner onto the back of the Albatross and he had to roll to break his fall. She left to serve as an efficient distraction. Most of the men had the sense to run, but some remained to fight. The thief couldn't help but smirk as he managed to find a way down below. He was going to enjoy making the Albatross drop like a stone- provided he didn't fall with it.

(*Meanwhile*)

Pavan brought the Nautilus to a suitable docking spot, perhaps a mile away from the fortress, and the crew then hurried to unload two of the three automobiles. They had one with a roof and the other without. The League insisted that none of the crew went with them. Pavan was the only exception and that was because he could drive. He was in the automobile with a roof with Jekyll whilst Quatermain and Sawyer were in the other without a roof.

The two automobiles set off quickly. The wheels chewed at the gravelled dirt beneath them and the engines were chomping at the bit as they hurried to the fortress. Sawyer was driving the other Automobile, which contained only Quatermain. They were headed to the back of the fortress, where the more discreet exit lay. Their automobile had no roof, and so they were pounded by the heavy wind and rain. Quatermain had to keep hold of his hat and it made his fingers numb.

Pavan and Jekyll were heading to the front of the Fortress. They were the big distraction. The one thing they depended on. The Mysterious Men did not know of Quatermain's existence or even if Sawyer was alive. They would not expect them. It was an excellent scheme if it worked and everyone was kept safe. Now all that was left for them to do was cross their fingers.

Sawyer branched off from Pavan before anyone in the fortress could see them. They drove off and did not use their headlights to aid their concealment. They were the ones who were going to have to get Nemo and Ishmael. Sawyer just hoped the plan wasn't so simple the Mysterious Men would suspect it.

They arrived at the back of the fortress in good time and thus far undetected. It was where all the supplies were handled and it was far easier to conceal themselves and their Automobile here. The crates and barrels and empty trays proved useful in hiding the automobile. To be sure, they covered their transportation in a nearby canvas. It also stopped it from filling up with the rain. Sawyer had Nemo's sword in the automobile. He took it out and kept it at hand for Nemo.

The two froze as they heard footsteps. They grabbed their guns and ducked out of sight. A young boy that appeared, facing away from them. He had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He must have run to get out of the battered building.

"Now what?" Sawyer whispered.

Quatermain put his finger to his lips. They had to hope he would move of his own accord. Sawyer peered around a crate with baited breath. He was looking in their direction, towards the automobile. He knew the covering did not belong. He came closer, at which Sawyer hid again.

Quatermain gestured for him to remain still as he made a move, slipping away to the side. Sawyer pulled a face of confusion. The boy would see him if he came much closer. If the boy ran off he'd raise the alarm. They'd have to catch him, but then what? He hoped Quatermain had a plan. Sawyer thought he'd do whatever it took to get Nemo back, but he wasn't going to hurt a kid. Dammit, why was he even here?!

Sawyer could hear him taking hold of the canvas that covered the automobile and pulling at it.
"Oh no," he murmured. More footsteps and the boy came into Sawyer's sights, and he into the boy's.
"Uh, hey," Sawyer remarked.

The boy was about to bolt when Quatermain spoke up. "Don't move." The boy turned with a gasp, stepping back. He saw the rifle hanging limp in his hand. His face paled. He shuffled back towards the closest weapon he could find: a plank of wood.

"Get away from me!" he shouted. He held the plank in the air, ready to swing. Despite his efforts to show otherwise, they could see the slightest shake in his hand; his gulps; and his jittery breathing. They could see his fear.

The child's eyes darted back and forth. He was debating on fleeing so Sawyer spoke up. "The two prisoners, they still in the cells?"
For a moment the boy did not reply, he had no intention of revealing anything.
"Speak up," Quatermain warned. "Tell us, and you're free to go."
Slowly, the boy nodded his head. "I. I think so- The cells are near where the explosion hit," he gulped, pointing to his left. Sawyer cast a glance at where he gestured to where he pointed. Quatermain was too well experienced to look.

But it made no difference. He launched the wood like a javelin towards them with all his strength. For a young boy, he threw it with an impressive degree of strength and accuracy. Quatermain had to duck to evade it. Without looking back, the boy ran behind the safety of the crates; he continued to run around the perimeter of the fortress. There went their element of surprise, again.

Sawyer was about to make chase but Quatermain stopped him.
"We haven't the time to get after him. He's gone the long way around at least. Come on!"

The two hurried into the fortress and began the search. The hallways were tall and wide. It was immense, to say the least, but all the same, it was… cold. The stone walls were dark and damaged, dusty and decayed with age.
"Stick together, this place is too big to be getting lost in," Quatermain said as they climbed a flight of stairs.

Sawyer concentrated on staying focused. They were so close now. This was it - the final stretch. He gripped Nemo's sword tighter. The fight for Nemo and Ishmael seemed to finally be coming to an end.

(*Meanwhile*)

Ishmael awoke, coughing and wheezing with the dust stealing away his senses. His eyes felt welded shut and his throat clogged almost with cement. Terror scrambled for a grip on his heart and his pounding pulse deafened him. He struggled to breathe and he couldn't move. Bricks, dust, and debris pressed down upon him without mercy. It felt like his hips and ribs were going to shatter. He groaned in pain.

The explosion had disorientated him. He could barely acknowledge the position he was lying in amongst the rocks. But he knew he had to get up. He needed to find Nemo and leave this hell behind. Now could be their only chance. If only he could unbury himself.

With a grunt, he tried to wriggle free but there was no way for him to move. He felt something sharp threatening to dig into his back. That was the greater threat. There was nothing for him to do but lie still, pinned, trying to gulp precious air. His choking continued relentlessly. The dust rose like smoke, delving deep into his lungs and tasting damp and gritty.

"Ishmael?!" he heard a voice call out between coughs. Nemo. It was Nemo. Ishmael couldn't see him in his makeshift crypt.
"Captain?" he croaked out.
"Where are you?"
Ishmael's coughing started again. The dust was unbearable.

"I. I'm trapped. I can't see a thing!"
"Keep calling out to me; I will find you."
Ishmael could hear him clambering over rubble a fair distance away. He kept shouting and calling. It didn't take long for Nemo to follow his voice. Ishmael felt the gradual relief of rubble being pulled away from him brick by brick.

Nemo clawed at the rocks, flinging them away from him. He'd managed to unbury his head at least. The air wasn't so heavy now. Ishmael kept coughing, hoping to clear the muck from his airways.

"Are you hurt?" Nemo asked him.
Ishmael shook his head. "No. I'm alright for now." They both froze, hearing the cruel creak of a metal door.

"Run, Captain," Ishmael whispered. Nemo heard him, he understood what he said, but chose to ignore him. He continued to move rubble and rocks. Ishmael saw a shadow coming towards them. "Please, it's you they want."
"I won't leave you in harm's way."
"You can't-"
There was the sound of the cocking of a gun. "Don't move!"

Ishmael sent him one last pleading look before any more men appeared. Nemo refused. He would not risk losing anyone else to this island. A group of men arrived, filling the dilapidated hallway. There were half a dozen of them, each armed with guns of different sizes. Nemo's hand wandered to his kirpan. He could fight. Ishmael knew he could stop them all if he chose to, but with him in harm's way, he wouldn't risk it. All someone had to do was pull the trigger. There was nothing more either of them could do.

"Hands up!"

Nemo obeyed. There was nothing Ishmael could do. They would take Nemo captive again, and he couldn't stop it. A small struggle ensued as Nemo resisted against his hands being bound together behind his back with a thin rope. They took his kirpan from him and threw it on the ground. Two of the men started to escort him out, but when he saw that they made no effort to bring Ishmael along, Nemo stopped.

"What about that'n?" one of the men asked.
"Leave him. We don't have the time to dig him out. We have to go, now. "
Nemo's reluctance to move grew in ferocity but the ample opportunity to fight had long since passed.

With a powerful gust of strength, they forced him out of the door, almost carrying him out. Ishmael called after him, but nothing came of it. The men left with Nemo, leaving Ishmael to suffocate in the dust.