Chapter 34 - Rescue and Retrieval
(Continued)

"If that kid was telling the truth then that means the cells have moved. I'm sure the plans said they were on the other side of the building," Sawyer said.
"We'll check where he said first since it's closer in case they're in trouble with the explosion," Quatermain answered.
Sawyer nodded and began to lead the way.

He'd studied the scraps of plans that they had and it had given him a good indication of where to go. Quatermain was more than willing to put his trust into him. But if the boy had been right, then he could only hope Nemo and Ishmael were unharmed. The state of the walls around them was worsening as they progressed.

Despite being so prepared, ready for danger at every twist and turn, they came across no guards. No one was trying to stop them or deal with the damage of the blast. He wondered if the rest of the League's role as a distraction was working. But they remained alert. There could be no mistakes or ill-judged assumptions. Quatermain knew Sawyer was well aware of that fact. He was keeping his eyes wide open this time around.

Getting to the cells was easy, given the lack of walls left standing strong to prevent their entry. Sawyer and Quatermain picked their way into the hallway, not letting the great gorges in the stone beneath them escape their notice. They kept their guns at the ready, unsure of what to expect. They both covered their noses and mouths with their bandanas to keep most of the dust out.

"This place is a mess," Sawyer murmured in between gentle coughs.
"Let's hope they're still here-"

The sound of coughing caught Quatermain's attention. Sawyer heard it too and gestured in the direction of its origin. Quatermain gestured for him to hang back and make sure no one appeared.

Keeping his gun at the ready, Quatermain went closer to investigate. He found Ishmael lying pinned amongst the rocks and rubble. Ishmael looked up and jumped. His red irritated eyes grew wide. "Mr Quatermain! are you..."

Quatermain crouched down beside him, leaving his rifle on the floor and slipping the bandana off for a moment. "Not important, Ishmael. Are you alright?"
More coughing interrupted him but he nodded. "You need to get Nemo. They took him again!"
"They won't be getting far. Let's get you out first."

Quatermain called out for Sawyer before replacing the bandana. He appeared and at once understood what was needed of him. Together they began to dig Ishmael out of the mess, freeing his shoulders, then his arms and chest. Soon the load above him was light enough for him to claw his way out of. Quatermain helped him to his feet and steadied him as he took deep breaths. He held his hip in pain, gritting his teeth. He moved his shirt up to inspect it: the skin already showing a large tender bruise deepening in colour.

"You sure you're alright?" Sawyer asked again, picking up Nemo's sword back up from the floor. He saw his kirpan amongst the rubble and picked that up too.
"I can hold for now. We need to find Nemo," Ishmael said.
"How many was there that took him?" Quatermain asked.
"Six? Seven? I didn't see clearly. But he might already be on the Albatross-"

Quatermain raised a hand. "Makes no difference. Skinner and Mina are grounding her."

Ishmael sighed in relief but his ears perked up hearing groaning. It was Nyctalope's friends.
"The others are waking up, we should leave. Here, I can carry that in case you need to shoot," Ishmael said, gesturing to the kirpan. Sawyer handed it to him since it had no sheath and his hands were full. They then slipped away unnoticed.

Ishmael led the way, almost as if his loyalty drew him in the right direction. The three went to the middle of the fortress finally halting when they heard arguing.

"I'm telling you to go and lock him on the Albatross," one demanded.
"Idiot, they'll find him. The League are already swarming around the ship. I'd take him to the back of the Island and find a basement or even a boat and put him where they won't think to look. We've enough ground to work with," the second said.

Sawyer and Quatermain decided to go in for a closer look but Ishmael stayed back for now. His hip and his frequent urges to cough would not benefit the rescue attempt. Sawyer gave Ishmael one of his guns in case of emergency and Sawyer took the kirpan back from him. For now, they needed their element of surprise and Ishmael did not want to ruin that for them.

So Sawyer and Quatermain crept forwards. They soon discovered the floor ahead had completely collapsed, making a staggered ramp to the floor below them. A light came from flickering bulbs on a chandelier-like frame above them. Nemo was sat on the floor not far from it, facing sideways from his rescue party. Quatermain could see him trying to escape his bonds. He kept his movements discreet, trying to use a shard of glass to slice through the strands bit by bit. Doing so meant he had cut himself a few times too. He seemed desperate to escape.

True enough, there were six men close to Nemo. None of them had the sense to stand behind him. They were too busy bickering about what to do with him.

"Try to get his attention," Quatermain whispered to Sawyer, he gestured for him to hand him the kirpan and Sawyer did.
Quatermain slipped away, closer to Nemo but out of his line of sight. If he could slip Nemo his kirpan then he'd have more luck in holding his own until they could get down there to help.

Sawyer waved at Nemo and heaved a careful breath, making just enough noise. It worked. Nemo glanced up but looked away almost at once. He kept slicing away at the ropes that held him but the glass was cutting him more than the rope. Once Nemo looked back to him, Sawyer put his hands together in front of him and gestured dropping it. Nemo understood and, although puzzled, let the bloodied piece slip from his hands. Blood trickled down his fingers.

With the men's disagreement moving towards a compromise, Quatermain had to take his chance. He weighed the kirpan in his hand and watched the men. None were facing his direction and they seemed distracted enough. Deeming it the best chance, he let the knife fall quite close to Nemo. Nemo turned to look around for the source of the noise. Quatermain ducked down out of his sight. If Nemo received a shock there was a chance they'd lose their stealth. Nemo's eyes grew wide upon seeing it.

With eager fingers, he shuffled closer and reached for it. Quickly he started hacking away at the bonds. He was almost free when one of the men noticed his arm moving behind him. Quatermain picked up his gun and looked for a target. The chandelier above them looked tempting.

"Hey, what have you got-"

Quatermain fired the shot. And the seventh man had to dive away to avoid being crushed by the falling mass of metal. The lights convulsed and shut off. Nemo took his chance and ran for cover, not quite being able to cut the rope.

Sawyer and Quatermain managed to push the men back to cover with their shooting, giving Nemo some breathing space. Sawyer shouted for Ishmael and he came at once. Ishmael at once limped down towards his captain. The two hid as bullets hailed their way. Ishmael used it as an opportunity to take the kirpan from Nemo and cut him free.

"Stay hidden," Nemo said, taking the kirpan back from Ishmael. Without another word he left the safety of the rubble, moving to bring down a shooter. Knives were not Nemo's weapon of choice, but the graceful ferocity was always there.

Nemo knocked the gun away from him, and he stepped in close, driving the blade into the man's chest. He pulled the knife free again, as another came towards him. He snatched at the gun with one hand and pushed the man away to the side by the back of the elbow with the other. The man lost his grip on the weapon and Nemo finished him with a kick to the head.

"Nemo," Sawyer called down from his vantage point, tossing something down towards him. Nemo caught it with ease. It was his sword. As shots hailed his way, he rushed to cover beside Ishmael, waiting for another opportunity to help the fight. He hurried to put his belt on and feeling the familiar weight by his side was a great comfort. But his services were not needed again. Quatermain and Sawyer's combined firepower was able to deal with the small group.

"It's clear," Quatermain said as silence hit the destroyed room. Sawyer made his way down to the floor to meet Nemo and Ishmael as they rose. Ishmael wobbled on his weakened hip and Nemo's hand shot out to steady him. He sent a look of concern but Ishmael shook his head to dismiss it.

"Good to see you in one piece. Come on, we gotta go. The others are buying us time outside." Sawyer said.
"Captain," Ishmael said, his voice damp with concern and his face bright with realisation. "The plans, we can't leave them."

Nemo looked him in the face. "You are right. Those documents cannot remain in Robur's possession."
"You'll have to be quick. Hyde's formula doesn't last forever," Quatermain reminded them from above them.
"We'll have to go the way we came anyway. There's an automobile outside," Sawyer pointed out. He began to climb up the rubble and stopped halfway to help the others up. Nemo went first, managing to get most of the way up but Sawyer offered him a hand with a smile. They had him back, they had them both back!

Quatermain watched over them, keeping his eyes on the doorways should more men come inside. Out of the edges of his vision, he saw movement. One of the guards had appeared from behind the rubble close to the League, crawling on all fours. He'd miscounted.

"Ishmael, look out!" he exclaimed, aiming his rifle.

Ishmael turned quickly. The man leapt to his feet and lunged at him with a knife. Quatermain fired at him in mid-air but the knife still grazed Ishmael's side. Ishmael's foot slipped and he fell back. He yelped and his hands shot towards his hip. But the guard was not dead, he moved towards Ishmael again, determined to attack him with his dying moments. Quatermain's gun was empty, he raced to reload.

Nemo rushed down to Ishmael, sword drawn; a single powerful swing finished the man. As if to be sure, he kicked him away and the guard fell onto his back. He turned his attention to Ishmael, but Sawyer was already helping him up.

"You alright?" Sawyer asked. Ishmael nodded, although his hip pained him greatly. Sawyer kept a steadying hand on his arm. "You got cut?"
" 's just a scratch," he said, moving his shirt to prove how shallow the knife wound was. He was a little surprised to see it was deeper than that, but they had time. Quatermain offered him a handkerchief. He pressed it against the wound and hissed. "Thank you. Whoever he was, he had it in for me."

Quatermain and Nemo nodded.

"We can't leave those plans with Robur," Ishmael repeated.
"Don't worry. We won't," Sawyer reassured him. "If they're in the cells, we've gotta go that way anyway, but we should get you to the automobile. You can barely walk and I doubt that fall did you any good."
Quatermain couldn't ignore the concern in Nemo's face. "Lead the way, Nemo. I'll stay at the back," Quatermain said.
Nemo nodded in agreement. Knowing time was of the essence he began to lead the way, hand on his sword. He was not going to be caught out again.

The path was uneven and it made it difficult for Ishmael to walk. Sawyer had given his Winchester rifle to Ishmael as a means of balancing himself a little more. It at least meant Sawyer had both arms free to catch him whenever he stumbled through the rough terrain. Even being occupied as he was, Sawyer couldn't stop thinking about the man who had tried to stab Ishmael. Surely he'd known he couldn't have fought and survived. Maybe he just didn't know when to quit. Maybe it was something darker than that… he didn't know. All he could do now was to help him get through.

"The cells are this way," Nemo said as he came to a crossroads.
"The exit is straight ahead," Quartermain gestured. "Here, Sawyer, I'll take Ishmael the rest of the way. You should go with Nemo and make sure you both get out alright."
Carefully Sawyer passed Ishmael onto him. Ishmael returned Sawyer's Winchester with gratitude.
"We'll meet you at the automobile. Be quick, I don't know how long our distraction is going to last," Quartermain warned.

Sawyer nodded "Let's go."
They took off at a jog, finding the cells to be as they had left them.
"Where were they, Nemo?"
"My room, or what remains of it," Nemo answered, his voice strained as he tried to unbury his desk. Sawyer helped him to drag rocks away, kicking up more dust and making them cough.

"What do you think caused this explosion?"
"It is hard to say, perhaps the gas pipes, but then, murder has been on someone's mind for some time now on this island."
Sawyer didn't quite understand what that meant but he left it, for now, he'd found the desk, collapsed in a heap.

Nemo yanked at a drawer and found the plans to be safe inside. He picked them up carefully with his uncut hand to prevent any blood from getting onto them. Placing them in his pocket, he said. "Let us leave. There is nothing more I want from this foul place."

"Hey!" a voice exclaimed. Nemo looked up from where he crouched. He stood at once. Sawyer looked behind him to see it was Nyctalope and his friend who had been in Belgium, the one with chestnut coloured hair. Sawyer aimed his Winchester at them before he'd even seen they were unarmed. He was surprised to see Nyctalope was still alive, let alone standing so healthily after he'd shot him in the chest. Nyctalope also seemed to recall who his shooter was. For a moment there was silence, an eerie quiet as Sawyer tried to read what they were thinking. The other two stood still, unsure of what Sawyer was planning.

Sawyer understood that to escape Nemo and he would probably have to fight but he didn't want to just shoot them. Neither of the two in front of him were that old - they looked younger than him. His mind betrayed him back to thoughts of himself and Huck. He didn't want to fight, nor did they have the time to. They had to get back for Ishmael.

"You can't leave- not with those," Nyctalope declared, looking at Nemo's pocket.
"Walk away, Nyctalope. This is none of your concern," Nemo warned, his hand returned to the hilt of his sword. "Champeau, you'd do well to advise your friend against this."
"War is my concern," Nyctalope retorted. "Leave by all means but the plans must stay."
"I already shot you once. I don't think you'd much appreciate me doing it again. Back off, kid. You don't get a say in this," Sawyer said.

Whatever discussion that was to follow shattered with the sound of crumbling rocks above them.

"Get back!" Sawyer shouted as rubble fell. Champeau retreated backwards but Nyctalope dived forward, past the wall of tumbling rocks.
"Leo!" Champeau exclaimed, choking on foul air, stuck on the other side.

Sawyer was too busy looking for Nemo to see Nyctalope had scrambled to his feet. Suddenly he began to fight Sawyer for the gun. Sawyer clung to the weapon with all his might but Nyctalope was strong, really strong. They tumbled to the floor as they struggled. Nyctalope managed to climb on top, pinning him on his back; Sawyer knew he wasn't going to be able to last much longer.

"Nemo!" Sawyer bellowed, trying to see where he was. He caught a glimpse of him. The bottom his leg was stuck under some of the newly fallen rubble. Was that the one he'd injured on the Nautilus? He pushed at it with all of his strength, and he'd almost freed himself. Sawyer looked back to Nyctalope and increased his efforts. All he had to do was hold on. He couldn't let go. A little longer was all they needed.

Sawyer wrapped his whole arm around the weapon, clinging to it like a spiteful child, but his grip was slipping. He hoped the weapon didn't break. Nyctalope seemed to know he was running out of time. With an iron grip, he held the gun with one hand and punched Sawyer hard under the ribs. Sawyer felt like it rattled his organs and turned his liver to mush. But he didn't let go, he wouldn't regardless of how many strikes he took. He heard the grumble of a rolling rock and the hush of a sword as it was drawn from its sheath.

Nyctalope looked up in alarm to see Nemo free. He didn't have time to react to it. With a gust of strength Nemo kicked him in the right shoulder, throwing him backwards. He hit the wall and bumped his head. The face of immense pain Nemo made escaped Sawyer's notice. He'd rushed onto his feet and aimed the gun, but he was no more willing to shoot now as before.

Nyctalope groaned as he sat up and reached for a rock, one last desperate attempt to retrieve those plans but he froze. Nemo's sword caressed the great artery in his throat. He slowly fell back, leaning on his arms from behind. He swallowed hard. Nemo could not put his foot flat against the ground.

"Enough, monsieur. These papers come with me. Your leader has betrayed you. You have no reason to act on his behalf."
"I act on my own behalf, Captain," he hissed. Nemo moved the blade closer, at once ridding him of his resentment.
From the other side of the wall, they could hear Champeau calling out to Degains and Coqui. Nyctalope looked concerned but didn't dare move.

Nemo moved his sword away by an inch, "Go and care for your friends, Saint-Clair. I expect they are wounded. I do not wish to harm you. Those papers you try so admirably to protect would bring war. They prevent nothing."
He nodded hesitantly, eyeing the sword "Alright… alright."

Nemo lowered his sword completely. He limped away from him, although he did not look away. "Lead the way, Sawyer."

He did so and the two hurried off. They did not get far, rocks and debris blocked their path entirely. "Dead end," Sawyer grumbled. "Nemo, do you know a way around this?" Sawyer turned to look at him. Nemo leant against the wall. He raised his leg from the floor and kept his eyes clamped shut.

"Hey… You alright?" Sawyer asked, going over to the captain.
"I will be. I just need a moment. It's my leg again-" Nemo suddenly stopped, shaking his head. "Nevermind, It's not important. There is another way to get to that doorway but it is a longer path."
"Looks like we've no choice. Here, let me help you. You must have hurt your leg pretty bad."
"I will be fine. I can keep up."
"I might have worded it as an offer, but there wasn't actually an option of declining. Last time you said you'd be fine you got yourself hip-deep in trouble," Sawyer smirked. He took Nemo's arm and slipped it over his head.

"Thank you, Mr Sawyer. For risking so much to find Ishmael and I. Last time there was no such hope to comfort us."
"Hey, you're in the League now. There was no way we were going to leave you out here, not now, not ever. Come on, let's get you home."

Together they hurried to get back to Ishmael and their automobile. They could only hope they were not too late.

(*Meanwhile*)

Now the danger of the League had passed, Nyctalope rushed to move the wall of rubble away, his strength proving useful in making a gap large enough for him to squeeze through.

"Leo, thank God you're alright," Champeau exclaimed.
"Are you hurt?"
"No. Where are Jean and Rene? Have they run off? I couldn't see them in their cell."
"I. I haven't seen them." He turned to look at their cell, half-filled with rubble. "Jean! Rene! Are you here?"

They froze as they heard a groan and a feeble voice. It came from the far corner of their room.

Nyctalope and Champeau looked at each other in horror. They moved closer, straining to see through the debris, hoping for an indication of where to start digging. For a moment they couldn't see them amongst all the dirt.

"There, at the back. Jean! Jean, wake up!" Champeau shouted, seeing he was unconscious. The explosion had caused a great crack to emerge in the wall. It was enough for Nyctalope and Champeau to squeeze through one at a time.
They began to grab at the rubble unhesitatingly, launching it away from their friend.
"Where's Rene?" Nyctalope cried, looking around.
"Wait, is he- yes! Chief, he's here, he's under Jean."

With Nyctalope's help, Champeau was quickly able to unbury them. Chapeau waited before he moved him, taking his time in checking it was safe to move him if he'd hurt his back… it felt like forever until Champeau gave the all-clear to carefully drag Jean to a clearer spot. Champeau treated his injuries as best he could. It looked as though Degains had used himself as a shield to protect Rene from the debris. Jean was in a bad way, but Nyctalope did not know what exact injuries he had. Blood covered most of his face. Rene was only just starting to come around and was the one who was responsible for the noise. He looked dazed but saved from any further injuries.

Nyctalope worked on trying to reassure him and helped where he needed to. He sat him up and looked at the bump on his head while Champeau helped Jean. Rene was able to clarify that Jean had pushed him to the floor and leaned over him on all fours to save him, at the expense of injuring himself.

"Leo, I need my bag," Champeau said, his voice was urgent. "It was in Robur's room."
Nyctalope understood. He got to his feet, sure that Rene would be fine. He took off as quickly as he could, ignoring the growing burn of his own wounds, racing against time to save his friend.