Disclaimer; All views expressed here are not those of the sight on which it is published. All characters belong to Hal and Di McElroy et al.

Warning; Violence, graphic images. This chapter, like many from now on, is rated M.

Chapter Three;
In All Due Respect, Sir

"Of course not." Marshall's voice cut across the radio, filling the bridge and causing the X to look up from her seat in the Captain's chair. Ever the gentleman, the CO had forced her to take it when she'd become determined not to leave the bridge. While Spider's injury was skin deep and would only require a good gauze covering, bandage and pain killer, the X's injury appeared to be ongoing. It was a common injury, a twisted ankle, but a debilitating one nonetheless. She was rotating it slowly, an exercise Swain had suggested, as Marshall continued. "Of course you aren't going back for her."

"Sir, we…" The CO started, but Marshall cut him off.

"I've allowed a lot from you in my time Mike, but don't ask this of me. Something goes wrong out there and we're both strung up by our ankles."

The CO frowned. "She's an in…" Again he lost out.

"Flynn, I'm serious. A patrol boat in the middle of an international disaster? No one will blame you for blundering into this Mike, but if you stick around you're as good as finished. We're talking military enquiry. You, me and your team will be out of here faster than you can say 'good intentions'."

But Mike was getting angry. He knew Marshall, knew he wasn't a stickler for rules like he probably should be, and couldn't understand why Marshall had picked now to be difficult. He looked up at his crew; the 5 others on the bridge were looking to him for leadership. He wasn't going to let them down. Rules be damned, the Hammersley was at war now and in warzones rules meant nothing. "In all due respect sir, no. We're going back for our chef." He threw the phone back at RO who caught it in shock and hung up on the Commander. The phone didn't move and the CO knew that Marshall knew better than to try and call back. Once the CO had something in his mind, he didn't let it go.

"What now sir?" The X asked, looking up at him and her words brimming with silent admiration.

"Dress for shore search." He looked up at the figure of Buffer who was standing by the engine controls with Charge, watching everything. "We need to find Bomber and get out of here before the cavalry arrive, because the minute they do everything will get a whole lot worse."

The beach was quiet, much like it had been earlier that day when they'd lost Bomber, and Buffer frowned. Behind him the remaining men of the boarding party looked around them. They had a lot of things to look for, things they needed like a checklist to finding Bomber, and the first started with the boxes. They were where they'd left them; alas empty of the crossbows, but Buffer ordered Pierce and Dutchy to carry them to the RHIB anyway. Once they were aboard Rhino darted off back to the Hammersley. His orders were to bring them back and then stay off the coastline until Buffer radioed back. Meanwhile they were to sneak into the jungle as quietly as they could manage to search for something, anything, which could provide them with clues that would lead them to their lost crewmember.

"Caesar, Archie. You go left. Swain, Pierce. Right. Dutchy, you're with me. Radio if you find anything. Meet back here in 40 minutes if nothing goes wrong." Buffer ordered, pointing people in their directions. Swain nodded, leading the wiry brunette Pierce off into the bushes on their right. The same direction the ambush had come from earlier. Caesar, a heavy-set man who did actually look a bit like his namesake Julius Caesar, led the dark-skinned Archie to the left. Buffer just stood and watched them go. Dutchy, meanwhile, had already started into the scrub ahead of them. A good-spirited young man, Ryan 'Dutchy' Van Gould-Cooper had come from a wealthy family, but he didn't show it. Buffer liked working with the junior sailor because he trusted him. He was Buffer's second favourite behind Spider, but with that impetuous Seaman still on the Hammersley, Buffer strode after Dutchy into the scrub.

20 minutes into their search they came across a small hut in the distance. Despite being surrounded by trees on their side, they could see that the house opened up to what looked to be a makeshift street. Clearly they had stumbled across a village. There were no clear maps outlining the area as no one had bothered to intrinsicly map the island. Because of that the crew of the Hammersley had no idea of what lay before them inland, and even some of the coastline lay unchartered. The CO had commented when they'd first realised they were heading for Libertile that navigating was 'going to be a step back in time to the good old 19th century'. It had been in jest, but he'd been right.

"Crew? Sit-Rep. We've come across a village. About 19 minutes due west of our starting location." Buffer radioed. He waited a minute, looking at Dutchy, but nothing. All he could hear was white noise. The radio crackled as if someone had picked up their radio, but they heard nothing. Buffer looked at Dutchy. He shrugged. Casting their eyes around them for any sign of life, they continued towards the village. All was quiet as Buffer crept out into the main street with Dutchy but he could see the faces in the windows. He lowered his gun slowly and called out to them.

"We're Australian Navy. We aren't here to hurt you, we're just looking for someone. A Navy woman. She was with a group of islander men, who were carrying crossbows." The faces shrank back as he mentioned the men.

"You think they speak English?" Dutchy asked, the Able Seaman casting his eyes around him warily.

"They certainly understood when I mentioned the men. I think they're af…" He stopped as a bush rustled to his left and he lifted his gun again, but Pierce and Swain just stepped out into the main road. He lowered his gun and gave them a wave. They came over.

"Find anything?" He asked them.

They shook their heads. Swain lifted up something, an arrow, and showed Buffer. "We found this on a hut further down the hill." He motioned back to the way they'd come. "Stuck to the door like a warning or something."

Buffer took it from Swain. "Why would you say warning?"

Swain's voice was silent but emotionless. "Because the bodies of the occupants lay inside. They'd been attacked, their throats cut, stabbed in the eyes."

Buffer looked around him. "This is why no one will talk."

"Would you?" Pierce piped up, the 23-year-old giving Buffer a crooked smile. Buffer agreed. He certainly wouldn't. He shoved it in his breast pocket then looked back at Swain. "Have you heard from Caesar and Archie?"

Swain shook his head. "Nothing. They shouldn't be far away though. Pierce thought he saw them when we were at the house."

Buffer looked to Pierce who nodded. "Yeah, at least I think it was them. There was someone moving out there."

But Buffer was suddenly worried. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't Caesar and Archie. Pierce was already pointing out to Dutchy a point three metres away where they'd 'seen' the Seaman and Leading Seaman. The bushes were silent. There was no one there. Buffer, lifting his gun, strode towards it slowly. As he did a door to his right opened and a man of about 50 came running out waving his arms and yelling at Buffer in some islander dialect that Buffer couldn't understand. Then, as the man reached him, things began to slow down. The bushes behind him, where Swain and Pierce had stepped out, rustled and out burst four men. One, they were pleased to see, was Archie. But, his gun up and firing blindly back at the men behind him, he was being chased by three men with crossbows. They fired, missing the quick-moving Seaman, as Swain and the others brought up their guns to fire. They managed to cut down one insurgent, but the others kept coming. Noticing the old man beside him had frozen, Buffer turned his attention on the villager, but it was too late. An arrow, clearly intended for Buffer, caught the man in the chest. His eyes bulged as the arrow snaked it's way into the man, the force of the shot pushing his body back at an odd angle. Then, like with most blows, his body convulsed and the angle of his back went even further. With a sickening crack his spine broke and the man collapsed. The arrow, meanwhile, had continued through and imbedded in the door behind him. Buffer's eyes darted between it and the insurgents then one words came to mind. Retreat.

"Men, fall back to the beach." Buffer screamed, not bothering to use the radio. Then, gun held high, Buffer ran with the others.