My apologies, gentle reader, on the length of time since my last update. This has been a difficult part of the story and I find myself being torn between telling a story and telling John's story. (Hope this makes sense…) At any rate I wasn't able to quite get the boys back on land at Cape Town quite yet… But it should happen very soon, like by the next chapter.
I continued to feel a bit lost in this part of the story and in particular this one chapter. I will be very grateful to any and all comments and reviews that can steer me in the right direction.
Depending on feedback, I hope to get the next chapter and dry land up for review later this week.
Thanks again for those of you who've taken the time to comment. It means so much to writers on this board, and really does help us in determining the direction the story should go.
Per the usual disclaimer. Also I used a couple of sentences from Series 1 in this chapter. See if you can find them.
"Culver? What do you mean, 'Culver done it?' What proof have you, Fellowes?" John shook his head in disbelief at Thomas' accusation.
"Well… I've no hard facts, tis true, sergeant. But Simon has been asking me a lot of questions about the mission and what my unit has planned. Wanted me to promise to let him know which militia group we'd be assigned to once we got to the Cape. And, once he heard that Jamie had gone above deck for fresh air, he volunteered to go find him. He was up there for quite a long time, in my opinion."
Thomas paused. "Mind if I smoke, Sergeant?" Fellowes took a cigarette from his pocket and left it hanging from his lips, waiting for John's approval.
John looked at Thomas carefully…Trying to divine if the man was telling the truth or just stirring up the pot to make Culver look like the guilty party. He knew there was no love lost between the cerebral Simon and the egocentric Fellowes. John wouldn't put it past Thomas to try and discredit Culver out of pure dislike of the man.
Bates nodded at Thomas it was okay to smoke but added, "And assuming you've nothing more to add to the subject, I'd prefer you take yourself and the cigarette outside of my cabin,"
"B-but Sergeant," he stammered.
"Enough" growled John. "I've got a lot to mull over, Fellowes. Leave me be so I can think in private."
"Aye, well, will do Sarge. But if you want me to keep me eye on Simon, I'll be happy to do it for you." Thomas looked hopefully up at Bates… The fact that Fellowes desperately wanted to get the okay to spy on Culver, was not lost on John. He felt a basic mistrust of the self-centered bastard and also because John felt he knew Simon quite well. Thomas' story just didn't ring true to Sergeant Bates.
"No, that won't be necessary Thomas." Seeing the crestfallen look on Fellowes face John added. "But thank you for your information It could prove valuable in deducing who committed this traitorous act. But, in the meantime, I'll continue to investigate on my own."
Thomas nodded and was heading out into the hallway, when John added. "Oh, and Thomas, not a word about what you've just told me to anyone… Understand? If you're wrong about your assertions, then it's important that whoever did this deed remains in the dark. Do I make myself clear?" John arched his eyebrow at Fellowes waiting for him to acknowledge what he'd said.
"Perfectly, sergeant." Thomas snapped back, his cigarette still hanging from his mouth. And with that he closed the door to John's cabin and went out for his smoke.
John's mind was still reeling from Fellowes accusation. Simon Culver… it just didn't add up. True he'd been born in South Africa, raised by his missionary parents there until they moved back to Britain 15 years ago. So he may have acquired an affinity for South Africa having spent his formative years there.
But during training, Simon had seemed to go out of his way to make sure the men were well coursed in Boer culture and community, as well as their language. He'd drilled Bates over and over again on the correct pronunciation of words; until John's thick Irish tongue was able to master the regional dialect. He felt confident that thanks to Culver he could pass for a native born Boer.
John decided to share Thomas' information with Robert immediately. He left his cabin and headed directly to Colonel Crawley's stateroom. On his way up, the sergeant made a mental note to congratulate Robert on his promotion to full colonel. He'd noticed the new rank marked on Robert's uniform when he first saw him onboard. But Bates hadn't said anything to him about it as other matters came up for discussions that were more important at the time than a move up in rank.
He rapped forcefully on Robert's cabin door and heard the shuffle of papers and then the sound of someone walking towards the entrance. Robert opened the door, and Bates snapped to attention.
"Sergeant Bates, requesting a meeting with the Colonel" he said.
"Bates of course, come in," Robert replied. He always welcomed any chance he had to connect with his former batman. "What brings you here? Is there any more news about Smythe's assailant?"
"That's why I've come, sir. Thomas Fellowes came to my cabin after your address to the squad. .He made some pretty accusatory statements towards one of the men appointed to this mission."
"And who would that be?" Robert's curiosity was piqued
"Simon Culver, sir."
"Simon Culver?" Robert repeated Bates words and then looked at him with incredulous eyes.
"Is Thomas sure? What proof does he have? I have to be honest with you Sergeant, of all the men in this squad, I would have thought of Thomas as being the perpetrator, not the informant in such a crime. I don't mean to question the man's honor, but Fellowes has always struck me as someone who does not play well with others. Someone to whom the concept of 'team player' is foreign to, which makes any comments he makes suspect. His motives never appear to be pure."
Bates smirked in agreement. "My feelings match yours in this case, Sir. Fellowes is not my idea of a selfless human being, let alone soldier. I told him to keep his accusations to himself for now. He'd requested my permission to spy on Simon, but I told him 'no', that I would handle things on my own. I really didn't want him sniffing about Culver, especially knowing that his perspective would be far from objective."
"Good call sergeant." Robert nodded in agreement towards Bates. "What do you think we should do next?
Bates raised his eyebrows at the word "we" uttered by the Colonel. He wasn't sure he wanted to have Lord Grantham involved in the investigation. Again, while John respected and yes, even dare say admired Robert, he also had intimate knowledge that on occasion the man tended to bumble his way through some situations. Not that he was an oaf or unintelligent, more like somewhat unfocused, a bit absent minded and not really into doing the research before taking action. But a braver and more honorable man, Bates had never met. He liked to think that he had a very accurate and balanced assessment of the Colonel, and outside of the restraints put upon them by rank and stations in life, he would be proud to call him "friend".
"Perhaps it would be better if I just investigated on my end, Colonel." Bates worded the next sentence carefully. "If the men saw you down walking amongst them below deck, they're going to become suspicious and probably alter their behavior, be on guard so to speak."
John was relieved to see Robert nod in agreement.
"You're right Bates, of course. Carry on with your plan on your own, just be sure to keep me updated on any developments."
"Of course sir, you'll be the first to know," John was relieved that the colonel had agreed not to become any further involved.
"Thank you for your time, Colonel." He saluted as he turned to leave and Robert returned the salute, dismissing John.
Once ensconced within his cabin, John sat wearily on his cot. It was still early afternoon yet he felt exhausted by all that had happened so far today. He ran his hands through his hair and then palmed his forehead with his elbows propped up on his knees. He drummed his fingers along the top of his head, hoping to jumpstart some thought process on how to capture Jamie's assailant. To be honest, he hadn't a clue how to reveal who the traitor was.
A couple of minutes passed by as John continued to determine the next step. He was brought out of his worries by an incessant knocking at his cabin door.
"Who is it?" John demanded.
"It's Private Culver, Sarge. I need to speak with you regarding a very important matter." Simon's voice sounded quietly strained.
"Come in, Culver," John called out wearily to the private.
Simon checked the outer hallway to make sure no one was following or would see him enter John's cabin
"Sorry for the intrusion, Sarge, but I've got something here from Jamie that I think will be of interest to you. Hopefully help you solve who Jamie's assailant is." Simon dug into his pocket and removed a couple of pieces of paper with writing in what looked to be a list.
"What do you have there Culver?" John queried.
'"A list Sergeant Bates. Jamie gave it to me when I found him up on deck this morning."
"What?" exclaimed John. " I thought you didn't find Jamie when you went looking for him?"
"Aye, that's what I told the men when I got back below deck, Jamie gave me these papers and told me to guard them with my life. That he'd found them peeking out from under someone's locker, part of it touching the floor." Simon spoke rapidly barely catching his breath.
"Whose locker, man?" Bates stood up and found himself inches away from Simon's face.
"That's the thing Sarge. He said that there was a traitor in our midst but just when he was ready to tell me who he believed it was we heard the crash of a door opening and Jamie put his finger to his lips and indicated he wanted me to return below deck. I think he was going to tell me who when he got back down, but as you know, he never made it."
"Let me see the list." John spoke gruffly to Simon.
Culver handed it over gingerly to his sergeant.
John looked at the list and shook his head in disbelief. What he was holding was a list naming every member of the special mission unit as well as a physical description of each man. It was divided into units… so there were a total of 3 units with four men in each unit.
John couldn't help but startle at seeing his name on the list, circled with a big star next to it. Apparently he'd been indicated as someone of special interest to whoever compiled the list.
"I'm keeping this for now, Culver. Thank you for bringing it to me."
"Of course, Sarge. If there's anything I can do to help, further. Just tell me."
John debated over whether or not to tell Simon about Thomas' accusation concerning him, but decided against it. "I'll let you know if anything comes up in the future, Simon."
Bates nodded towards the door, indicating to Culver that he should leave.
"Aye, Sarge. See you later this evening?"
Bates looked at Simon with a raised eyebrow. "This evening?"
"Oh, sorry Sarge. Thought one of the boys would have already invited you. We're having a card game tonight. Starts at 20:00 in the rec room below deck near the sleeping quarters. Know how you love cards and Thomas made friends with the keeper of the keys for the Mess Hall. There will be much "liquid refreshment" available also thanks to Thomas' new found alliance. Hope we see you there." Culver headed out the door and left John to ponder his next move.
Bates tossed around a few ideas in his mind, but finally decided to just put the list in a safe place in his cabin for now.
He shuddered at the thought that today might serve as a template of how the remaining 16 days at sea were going to be like. This first day had been a challenge. And John knew he was at his limit for handling anymore surprises for the day.
Perhaps a game of cards with the men and a sampling of brews might not be a bad idea after all. Bates thought about it a little more and finally concluded that yes, a little recreation with the men sounded more and more like just what he needed after a day like today.
Thankfully, the rest of the day was uneventful, which suited Sergeant Bates just fine. A few minutes before 8pm he showed up at the rec room.
He recognized 6 men there already as members of the special mission squad, and one unknown soldier who wore a white smock over his uniform. John surmised that this must be Thomas' new friend…The keeper of the storeroom keys and supplier of the beer that would be fueling the game this evening.
Culver spied John as he walked in the room and immediately headed over to greet him. "Glad you could make it Sarge'!" Simon practically gushed. "We can get started now that you're here. We arranged the table to accommodate 8 players."
John took a seat and immediately found a beer placed before him. He counted out his cash and had it transferred into playing chips and prepared himself for an evening of beer and cards, hopefully not in that order.
The game went swiftly. Within the first couple of hours over half the table had been eliminated. As it approached midnight, John regarded the pile of chips before him. To his consternation, during this past hour there had been a steady erosion in the number of his chips in direct opposition to the ever increasing number of empty bottles of brew that had taken over his section of the table.
John could hold his liquor well, and had a high tolerance for alcohol. His problem was not that he didn't know his limit, it was that he often chose to go past it and tonight was one of those nights. Perhaps it was the horrific assault on Jamie, or the realization that there was a traitor in their midst and the implications it held for the mission, or the pressure to figure out who the assailant was, but John just needed some sort of relief from all these pressing issues. And booze was a quick and readably available answer to his problems this evening.
The pot was huge and John was in a battle one on one with Thomas. Fellowes had just made a huge raise, more than all the chips John had at hand. He looked at Thomas intently hoping for some kind of tell that would let him know if Thomas was bluffing or really did hold a superior hand. He wished he hadn't drunk so much, as he couldn't quite remember the betting sequence, which may have helped him figure out the strength of Fellowes hand.
Bates head was starting to hurt and he made up his mind that this would be his last round no matter the outcome. He needed to go to bed… his head was screaming with a pounding headache and his mouth was beginning to taste like cotton.
He regarded Thomas again…noticed that insouciant smirk upon his face and decided then and there to call the bet. "No guts no hero" he thought to himself. He'd be damned if he'd allow a miserable bastard like Thomas to force him to give up.
"All in" Bates called as he pushed his entire pile of chips into the center of the table. As soon as he did, he regretted it, as he saw the slightest upturn in the corner of Fellowes' mouth.
"Three queens, King high" he muttered as he laid down his cards.
"Very nice, Sgt. Bates… very nice indeed," Fellowes sneered. "Let's just see what I've got in my hand. Been so long since I peeked at it, I think I've forgotten."
With that, Thomas fanned his cards out in his left hand and began to lay down his hand…one card at a time…
"Let's see…um.. one Jack…. Two Jacks…"
John could feel his heart beating rapidly threatening to pound right out of his chest…
"Three Jacks… wow, looks like you have me beat their Sarge." But John wasn't fooled. He could hear the lack of sincerity in Fellowes voice.
"Hmmmm but wait, what do we have here?" Thomas was about to go into full blown gloat… An Ace? And, oh look! Another Ace! Why I do believe that's a full house, Sergeant. Sorry about that, but you appear to have lost."
John's fists clenched and he could feel the blood rising to his face. It wasn't that he was a bad loser. It was the self-indulgent manner that Thomas blew up his victory at John's expense that really irked Sgt. Bates. He could accept being defeated fairly, but he did not appreciate being humiliated at the same time.
"Better luck next time, Sergeant" Fellowes called out to John as he got up from the table and was preparing to go back to his cabin. "But seriously, Sarge. What chance did you hope to have against a champion?"
The unmitigated gall of the man! John's immediate action was to turn around and punch Thomas' shiny white teeth through the back of his skull, but he controlled himself for the sake of the mission's unity. He had to set an example to the men. Much as he'd love to do some major damage to Fellowes dental work, and permanently reconstruct his smarmy smile, John held back.
"Well played, Fellowes" he replied as he walked away. Looking back, John took some small comfort in the disappointed look on Thomas' face. It almost appeared that Fellowes had wanted a physical confrontation with his sergeant and readily showed his displeasure at not being able to bait him into reacting.
It was a small victory for John and had come at quite the price. Half a month's wages… Good thing he'd be on this ship for the next two weeks. No need to spend any money while on board.
John returned to his cabin ready to call it a night. He flopped ungracefully onto his bed, his feet dangling off to the side and attempted to get comfortable, not even bothering to change. Quickly the combo of the booze and the gentle rocking of the ship resulted in him drifting into a deep sleep.
A few hours later he awoke with a start. John had always been an early riser, but he sensed that this was way too early to get up as he arose from his bed. With no porthole it was difficult to figure out whether it was day or night outside. He slowly and carefully stretched his arms out and moved his head from side to side in an effort to relieve the crick in his neck.
He soon realized that his waking up was probably more than partially due to his need to get to the head. He stood up shakily and stumbled out his door in the direction of the shared lavatories.
Once relieved he found himself wide awake at what he was sure was some ungodly hour. He'd left his watch in his room, but rather than go back and get it, he decided to do a bit of exploring. The ship was fairly quiet outside of the dull thud of the lifeboats gently bumping along the side of the ship and the sound of the waves as the Dunottar knifed its way across the Atlantic.
John had a vague idea of where he was in the ship and the location of most of the major staterooms and lounges around the different decks. His thoughts strayed to Jamie and how he was doing. Last he had heard, Smythe had yet to regain consciousness. Bates had asked to be apprised of Jamie's condition, in particular when he would be awake and coherent, so that he could be the first to speak to him concerning his attacker's identity and also out of whose locker did Jamie find the list containing all of the unit's members. John was sure it was one and the same person, but he wanted Smythe's confirmation before he took action.
He decided to make his way to the sick bay and see for himself exactly what condition private Smythe was currently in.
John hadn't bothered putting on any shoes when he'd gotten out of bed, so he made no sound as he wound his way through the walkways and stairs leading up to the medical offices of the ship. As he approached the sickbay area, Bates could see a light on in one of the private rooms designated for the sickest patients.
The closer he got the more concerned he became as he was unable to see the sentry that had been assigned to guard Smythe. John had reasoned that whoever it was that had tried to kill Jamie yesterday would probably be desperate to attempt to finish the job as soon as possible in order to keep from being discovered as the spy.
John picked up his pace as he got closer to the light and Smythe's room. He stumbled over something as he was about to open the sickbay outer doors. Righting himself before he hit the floor, Bates was shocked at the site of the guard sitting flat on his ass with his legs splayed out in front of him. John bent over the guard to check on his condition and as he got closer to the comatose soldier it became obvious that the man reeked of alcohol. Bates didn't have the time to deal with the soldier right at the moment, as his attention was focused on the sight of somebody standing in Private Smythe's room.
Bates stood up and raced inside the sickbay and directly to Jamie's room. When he entered he saw a man standing next to Jamie's bed, up towards his head. He was holding a pillow and it was obvious to John that the man planned on smothering private Smythe where he lay.
With an impassioned roar, Bates leapt across the room at the potential murderer and grasping him by the shoulders tossed him up against the wall. John leaned into the man and pinned him there by laying all his weight against him. The assailant wore a watch cap, pulled low over his face. John raised his arm to pull the cap off the man and in doing so gave his foe the opportunity to free one of his arms.
Bates yelped in pain as he felt the cold steel of a knife blade dig into his flesh along his right ribcage. He swallowed through the pain, and as the man tried to stab John again, grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it sharply until he heard a satisfying snap. The palm of Bate's hand was sliced open by the blade, but John didn't mind as he heard his opponent scream in pain, dropping the knife from his useless hand. John clenched his fist and punched the man in the solar plexus rendering him unable to put up a fight.
Breathing heavily as he held the now unconscious man up against the wall, John reached for the cap and pulled it off the attackers head. John didn't need to see his face to identify the man. His ginger hair gave him away…
XXXXX
John sat on the examining table as the ship's doctor tended to his wounds. Luckily they were both superficial, quite painful but not in the least life threatening. Once bandaged and cleaned up, Bates headed back to his cabin.
Doogan had been taken down to the brig after he had regained consciousness and placed in a separate cell apart from the other prisoners. John planned to interrogate Mick himself in the afternoon. But first he would meet Colonel Crawley in a couple of hours, fill him in on what had transpired overnight and inform him that the traitor was now safely put away. John assumed that Doogan would be handed over to the British authorities once they landed at Capetown and that the trial and the sentencing would be swift with the punishment quickly dealt.
John closed his eyes, hoping to catch an hour or more of sleep before reporting to Colonel Crawley, but sleep wouldn't come. His mind was spinning over the events of the past day and a half. Frankly, he was still a bit shocked at discovering that Mick Doogan had been the traitor all along Red haired, freckle faced Mick with the map of Ireland on his face had been the spy embedded in their special mission group. John had a hard time imagining what could have possibly happened to turn Doogan into a turncoat. He could have understood Culver even, over Doogan as a spy. But, Doogan? ...What? ...Why? John hoped that after the interrogation he'd have some answers or at least some understanding of what drove Mick to betray his country.
But for now, Bates needed some sleep. He closed his eyes again and willed himself to try and go back to sleep, having left word he wanted to be woken up by 7am, Eventually, his lids grew heavy and John fell into a fitful sleep.