Chapter 10/ Captured by old enemies
On the Aurora, moored on the British embassy grounds, Passepartout was making things ready for the trip to Scotland. The guests would stay in Miss Rebecca's cabin. She and Jules Verne would stay in Alexandria looking for the lost ship until he and the Master returned. He had already seen to provisions and was waiting for a delivery of meat.
Having the lady aboard the Aurora again would be nice. Passepartout missed the time he had entertained her at the hospital. She had laughed and smiled as he read and acted out books to her. Such appreciative audiences were rare. That wouldn't be repeated on this trip, of course, not with a husband around.
Lady Katharine had been kind enough to speak French with him and Jules. Her English was good, but the accent was hard to take sometimes. It changed the sound of words. English was a ridiculously tough language to deal with under the best of conditions. Passepartout remembered the weeks he had spent in Scotland at her home. It had taken him the entire visit just to get used to the way the servants talked. Some of them didn't speak English at all, only Gaelic. He had asked a housemaid to walk with him around the estate to interpret… a very pretty one.
A knock came at the door of the main cabin. The meat.
Passepartout opened the door to a man carrying a large basket. He thanked him in French and tried to take it and shut the door; but the man heaved the basket into his stomach and pushed him to the floor. Passepartout landed on his back. As he fought to get his feet under him again, a large barrel opening to a very large caliber weapon was pulled out of the basket and pointed in his face. Three others followed him. One of them was in an all-to-familiar dark uniform.
Not again.
The intruders tied him up and made the Aurora ready for flight. A fifth man joined them, walking with a limp and showing a recently broken nose. One large trunk was carried onto the dirigible. The uniformed League officer spoke to the newcomer for a moment and ordered Passepartout to set the Aurora to flight heading north.
Katharine watched as the hotel maid packed her trunk. She would have preferred to handle it herself, but had become tired after lunch. Andrew noticed it and called the maid. He and Phileas were waiting downstairs, talking about the trip to Scotland on the Aurora.
She would love to travel in Phileas's dirigible again. It was so smooth and relaxing.
A porter knocked at the door for her trunk. The maid opened it. He was carrying a trunk on his back as he brushed the maid aside. Another man came in behind him with two other steamer trunks on a cart. "Excuse me," the maid said. "Do you have the right room? This lady didn't ask for extra trunks."
"There is no mistake," the porter said. He then backhanded the maid so hard she flew back and landed on the floor, unconscious in a tumble of rumpled skirts.
Katharine jumped from her seat on the bed. She grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on. It was the parasol she used on her mornings in the courtyard. It had a sturdy oak shaft that came to a pointed tip at the end. The porter came around the bed at her, laughing at her weapon of choice.
His victim was well armed, whether or not he recognized it. The porter took one step too close and got the point of the parasol in his thigh. When he bent down in pain, the handle hit him across the nose. As he went down, the other came in from the side.
Katharine held her parasol up, sword like, as her cousins taught her before she could handle a real sword. She saw an opening and made a thrust for his sternum.
The man saw it coming. He jumped back in time to avoid the point, and caught her weapon, yanking the parasol out of her hand. The force of the pull sent her off balance just long enough for him to get hold of her.
Stepping forward, Katharine put her shoe heel into his instep.
The man let out a low, growling cry of pain and anger, but she didn't get the effect she was hoping for. He kept his hold.
The porter came back up from his moment of pain with a bloody, angry face. He got behind her, pinning her arms and holding her tight. He lifted her off the floor, leaving her feet dangling in the air, unable to do any more harm.
The other pulled a bottle and a handkerchief out of his coat pocket. He poured the bottle's contents onto the cloth and covered her face with it.
Mary Kate tried to cry out, but got a lung full of awful smelling fumes. She tried kicking at him, but her feet were tangled up in her skirts.
In seconds, their captive's struggles ended. The porter helped the other guide her into an empty trunk.
Phileas Fogg and the Earl were just finishing their plans. The trip back would be straight west with the winds and then north up the channel. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the offer, the Earl said. This will make the trip back much more comfortable for Katharine. It's quite generous.
"Not at all," Phileas brushed it off. "I'm quite happy to be of service to old friends."
Phileas liked these people very much. There was the fact that the lady was now over a month late getting home to her child, and quite weak from the ordeal she had so narrowly escaped. It could, however, be a lingering gratitude to the earl. If the man hadn't stepped in two years ago, Phileas may have found himself the lady's husband. Not a dreadful fate, just one he didn't want.
Had there not been such a determined rival, Fogg was certain Countess Weatherby would have married him off. Matchmaking and marriage traps were becoming an art form of late. Phileas had several friends that had been snared in ingenious ways. Eleanor was never lacking in ingenuity or imagination. She had suckered him into the initial introduction despite all his efforts. The rest would have been just a matter of time.
A hotel porter came to speak to Andrew, ending his what ifs. "Sir," the porter said, "your wife requests yours and Mr. Fogg's presence."
Surprised, Andrew and Phileas followed the man upstairs to Katharine's room. On the way, Andrew spoke a thought similar to Phileas's earlier musing. "I find myself in gratitude to you often, it seems. We will need to repay you one day. Though, I cannot imagine how for the debt that most matters."
"What is that?" Phileas said.
"My daily and future happiness," Andrew said with a smile. "If you hadn't fought so well and so long against Mary Kate's aunt's plans, she might be your wife now instead of mine."
They reached the room with the porter in the lead. The moment they were both inside, the door closed. Two men jumped each gentleman. The attackers found their hands full. Fogg pushed the men attacking him off within moments. They fell back flat on the floor. One came back up. Phileas caught hold of him at the shoulder, slamming him into a wall.
Andrew was doing well for himself, too. He had sent one flying across the room with a backhand and was dealing with the other with more precision. A loud voice ordered them to stop. They turned to where it came from and found a gun barrel leveled at Fogg's head.
"Well, if it isn't Phileas Fogg. Won't the master be pleased?" the man with the gun said.
Phileas looked into the cold eyes of a man in League uniform.
The League man walked up closer, face to face. He was dark, with dark hair and eyes. The officer smiled with an ugly expression of arrogance and malice. "You are a surprising bonus. If you are here, Miss Fogg must also be nearby. Yes, the master will be well pleased."
"Where is my wife?" Andrew said.
"You will be reunited with her shortly," the League man said. "She is well and unharmed, although she gave quite a fight. I would advise you to see that both she and you are more cooperative in the future. The master doesn't take kindly to opposition."
"Your master," Fogg added with an air of confidence not appropriate to their situation, "should learn from the past and accept defeat."
"Your momentary victories are minor irritations to us," the League man said. "That and nothing more." He ordered them both bound and gagged. Once done, the men were wrestled into the extra trunks brought for the purpose. Pinned inside, they were treated to a heavy dose of chloroform until they were quiet enough to be transported.
As the Lorraine sailed back into the harbor with the Marianne and pirate ship in tow, Rebecca noticed the Aurora high above leaving the coast. "That's odd. They weren't supposed to leave until tomorrow morning. I hope Phileas left my supplies. I hadn't packed anything yet."
Jules watched the Aurora climb higher in the skies. His luggage was similarly not prepared for his stay Rebecca's hotel yet. The change in plans seemed peculiar. Fogg was a man of habit and schedule. He could think of nothing that should have changed the timing of their departure.
On shore, they went to the hotel for any message left to explain the change. What they found was a perplexed hotel clerk.
"The lord and lady left with no one's notice, and without paying their bill. One of our maids had been found unconscious in the lady's wardrobe. She says a porter attacked her. Miss Fogg, this message was left for you." The clerk handed an envelope to Rebecca.
Rebecca opened it. It had not been left by Katharine or her cousin. Rebecca turned away and read it, getting angrier at every line. "I know who the devils are now," Rebecca said. She handed off the message to Jules.
Miss Rebecca Fogg,
The Earl, his lady, and Phileas Fogg are prisoners of the Count. You are not to follow us. Stay in Alexandria. Any attempt at rescue will bring the master's fury on them. You will be watched to assure your compliance.
Advise the Highland Trade Company their activities are to end. Their ships to leave the Mediterranean. If all three ships are not seen off the coast of Italy in eight days' time, the earl and lady will be killed. The couple may be restored to their home in the future if the company remains compliant.
The letter wasn't signed. But Rebecca only knew one group who called their leader the master or count. "Of course, they make no promises as to Phileas's return or continued existence," Rebecca said.
Jules handed the letter back to Rebecca. This was double the bad news for him. If the League didn't know of his presence yet, the watcher would soon tell them. They had been after him for a long time because of his visions. Verne didn't relish being in their hands again, but into the fire he would go to extract Fogg. The question was how, with a watch on them and no transportation.
William Robertson came to the hotel shortly afterwards to find no earl or lady and a furious Secret Service agent in the lobby. He read the message and heard her explanation of who and what the League of Darkness was.
The fleet had eight days to get from here to Italy, so the letter read. That would be hard sailing, but it could be done, wind willing. That wasn't their way, and it wouldn't play out that way, but the orders were doable. The part about Miss Fogg sitting on her skirts in Alexandria with her cousin and friends abducted by wolves… Robertson had been told by several sources how she had put James down two years ago. The woman wasn't going to sit still.
"You need to get your ships out of here," Rebecca said. "Their spotters must see you heading out of the area, or they will kill Earl and Lady McCollum. I would, however, like to take you up on your offer of help. Without Phileas, I am not as well set as I once was. The contacts in this region were his, not mine. This watcher needs to be found and gotten rid of so I can search for our lost people. Captain Abel will lead me to their base once I can leave."
"What sort of help would you like," Robertson said.
"Sir James and you were quite good at flushing out watchers before. I am hoping you can do so again. We need to find out if this person sends reports or just monitors me. Once we know that, we can decide what to do."
"Agreed. And once you have dealt with this, how are you and Captain Abel going to get up the coast?" Robertson asked. "You don't have the Aurora. Our ships will be gone. You don't just hire a ship to take two people on a trip. You don't take a British Naval vessel into hostile waters and expect it to be ignored either."
"I will deal with that when the time comes," Rebecca said.
She would find a way. Robertson didn't doubt her resolve. But there was no reason for her to do so if he could handle it for her. As soon as he had read the message, a plan formulated itself. It would serve everyone just right, if their friends would agree to it. "Let me see what I can set up."