"This is the Captain speaking. We are in for some rough weather. It's an early winter storm and has some nasty winds and other wonderful blessings like snow and hail. Buckle up! We are in for a rough ride."
The captain was as good as his word. The plane began a series of twists and jumps as the fierce storm struck. The sound of hail hitting the plane was deafening. It was like being inside a snare drum with a mad drummer in control.
Then their flight turned into a disaster.
The submarine had arrived at its destination without anyone knowing or detecting its presence. Captain Alexis Kromanskia had received his orders and was surprised. But orders were orders and if this hair-brained plan worked he'd undoubtedly be rewarded. It seemed so odd that the west was now their enemy. During the war it was the supplies from the United States and Canada that had kept their nation from being devoured by the Germans. It had been a close race so he knew that their country owed the West much more than a polite thank you. It owed the West its very existence. Now the good relationship between both groups was strained. He cared little for the politics or the teachings of Lenin. But he never let his feelings out. No, in his society any one who questioned the direction of the politburo would soon find himself out of a job and subject to retraining in one of the Siberian gulags. So he was here to retrieve some atomic bombs. The world was going mad and it was still the dead of night.
So from what his orders read, a Peacemaker, one of the US giant bombers would make a run down from Alaska and do another practice bombing run on San Francisco in preparation for their attack on Soviet cities. Why were the politicians so blind? Had they not seen the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Did they not know that nuclear
war was a war that no one could win? Even a stalemate was a recipe for disaster.
He had taken every precaution in approaching the West Coast of North America. There were both American and Canadian naval ships plying the waters and listening to their sonar.
After the war, Canada, a small nation of 15 million had the fourth largest navy in the free world. They were specialists in U-boat detection. It wouldn't be much different if they used their skills to discover a Russian intruder. He had experienced a depth charge attack back in 1944 in the Mediterranean. Then he had been lucky. But he never wanted to test his luck like that again.
Now within 18 hours the B-36 would be on its fateful run. He had no idea how his compatriots had arranged for the jettison of the atomic bomb nor had he discovered how many Soviet spies were now in the American armed forces. That sort of information was too dangerous to possess. He had no need to know and he really didn't want to either.
Only once, two nights before, had he been really frightened. The radioman had detected a plain English SOS from a small fishing boat near by. The latitude and longitude were clearly stated. That fishing vessel was only about 30 miles away. What had shocked the radioman was the instant reply. A Canadian destroyer which was almost directly over them had answered. Maybe if it wasn't so interested in rescuing the fishermen it might have heard the ping of a sonar echo. That ping would have finished their voyage once and for all.
So now he had to wait. His submarine had been specially modified to receive the bomb. A team of bomb technicians with Geiger counters and other devices were now waiting in the bowls of the ship until it was time. He had no torpedoes or any form of defence. All the weight of weapons had been removed to accommodate the bomb. It was estimated that the bomb would weight 6 tons. A crane had replaced the deck gun. If things worked out the bombardier on the plane would jettison the bombs and they'd float down under a parachute canopy. The charges developed to explode the bomb would be used, but they would be cut away and so the explosion, if anyone was watching from the ground or the air, would be recorded and the assumption that the bombs had been destroyed would be the only conclusion possible.
So the plan had been carefully crafted. But plans, like men, were not impervious to change. One thing he had learned in the last war was that change was the norm while all the plans of mice or men, as some wit once penciled, counted for nothing when it came down to reality.
Chapter Five - The Fall Of Rome
There were misgivings in the passengers as the two small sailing ships left their home port. To leave at dawn as the sun started to lighten the houses on the hills over looking the harbour was like someone using a knife to cut out one's heart. Marcus looked and put his arms around his wife. She too had come up on deck for a last view of their home. In a few hours they would be pushed by the wind down into the Mediterranean Sea and with the guidance and expertise of the Phoenician sailing master Italy would be lost forever from their sight. The sailing master would navigate their two small ships past the rock where Atlas once held the world on his shoulders and out into an ocean so vast that no one knew where if ended, but only where it began.
The others too were watching as the distance between the ships and land widened. Soon it was only a memory that was left, as the land disappeared and the sea became the only thing in view. Water. Endless stretches of water.
Octavia had tears in her eyes and Marcus could feel her slim body quiver with pent-up emotions.
"Oh, my darling, I know it's hard to leave everything behind, but we both know what awaited us if we stayed. In a matter of weeks we will be in a new land and can start a new life. Britain is said to be a good land where the plants grow succulent and are filled with goodness. You'll see. It shouldn't be long. But our homeland will be suffering a horrible fate. We as a nation lost what we knew was right. Our politicians become interested only in their own wealth and how they could gain more power. We have all heard the stories of the debauchery where success was measured in flagons of wine and how many women could be conquered whether they were virginal or married. Roman lost its conscience. And when we lost that who could the normal Roman citizen turn to for help? Our legions became lazy and were being used to prop up one leader against another. I cry for Rome, but it is our chance for a new life that I can see our future. Maybe in time and hopefully within our life span Rome can rise up out of its abyss of moral decay. Maybe a true leader who is interested in the people and not in his own wealth will surface and save what is left of the Roman Empire. That is what I pray for."
It was with a thankful hand that his wife Octavia reached up and caressed her husband's cheek.
"My husband, I know that all you say is true. It is hard to see your whole life and your friends and everything you have ever known disappear over the horizon. I support your plans for our children and us. I am thankful that Scripio and Augusta have come with their household. At least we can start a new life without being entirely alone."
So the two ships with Fabius's ship in the lead turned west and headed for the passageway that would lead them out into the unknown ocean.
It was up to the sailing master to bring them safely to Britain. He too had his family with him and so there was more than just the reward of silver and gold pieces at stake.
The sailing master was looking in the direction of the horizon where the ships were heading.
"Did I not tell you that the Haboob would only last a short time? But now we are on our way. We have just begun, but in a week or two you and your family and those in the other ship will get used to the motion of the waves. My wife is not a sea-woman. She was always afraid that my ship would sail off the edge of the earth and fall into the fires of damnation and into the hands of the gods of the Underworld. But I've never even seen anything like the edge of an ocean. She is now in my cabin being violently seasick and praying to the gods for help. Oh, God guard us from women. We can't live without them but living with them is a hardship at times."
* * *
It was a coughing sputtering twosome who reached the surface. Arthur thrust a pole in their faces and pulled them closer to the barge. Finally they were hauled up onto to the deck of The Fat Lady.
It was a moment or two before either of them had the strength or inclination to move. Just bre
athing the cool fresh air of the B.C. afternoon was a reward and confirmation that they were alive.
"Jake are you hurt?" his father asked.
"No, I don't think so, but I'm not sure. God, I feel like I have been through the ringer." He turned and tried to get to his feet, but he felt the numbness and it stopped him. His father gave him his hand.
"Come on, son, get out of that wet suit. Sarah, you had better get into something dry too. That was a very brave thing you just did."
It was a few more minutes before Sarah could speak. She looked as Jake was helped to the galley. Right now anything warm would be welcome. She suddenly got the shakes and had to grab the wall to steady herself.
"Well, I guess all that ends well is nothing to complain about, but don't ask me to do any more work today. Even if I was being paid a million dollars I don't think I could lift another rope, cable or anything."
Jake's voice a little worse for wear tried to make a joke. "Lady, we do this on every trip. It sort of adds a little spice to our lives!" But he couldn't keep up the charade. "I want to thank you for what you did down there. I've been in tight spots before, but being squeezed between two big water soaked logs with only a few minutes of air left in my tank isn't something I want to repeat. It was a close thing. I own you my life."
Sarah looked at him. The colour was starting to come back into his face, as he sipped the steaming coffee that Arthur had placed in front of him. She reached for her coffee and understood. Arthur had added a stimulant and the whiskey certainly added strength to the brew. It was certainly welcome.
"That was because of my girl guide training. It's part of the pledge we take to rescue drowning river rats whenever and wherever we find them. But you did give me a scare. You're lucky that you didn't break something! Shouldn't you go see a doctor?"
"I'll be fine. Bruised but fine. I think that this is the last of the expeditions for The Fat Lady this year. I'll have to get the crane looked at. It's too risky to use it when the gas pedal is not working properly. When the cable released I was luck that I wasn't cut in two. If it had sprung back onto the barge anyone in its path would have been sliced like a hot knife through butter. When we get back to land this Lady is going into dry dock."
The way Sarah felt she wanted to be treated the same way. "Let me see you walk. The way you stumbled up the steps just now it looked like you had forgotten how."
Jake gave her a funny look. "Why, not only are you a noted archaeologist, a fair hand at working on a barge, and good at emergency rescues, but does your repertoire include being a Florence Nightingale?"
"No, not really but that goes back to my girl guide training too. You know the advice is always to get the patient back onto their feet as soon as possible. Besides, if I let you finish the drink that Arthur keeps doctoring, the doctor won't be able to tell what part of you is numb from drink or numb from being squeezed by those logs."
"Are you always this argumentative on a Friday afternoon?" Jake asked, as a smile started to cross his face.
His father gave Jake a swat behind the ear. "Jake, she's right and you should go and see a doctor. Tomorrow Dr. Tynor is in town, so it wouldn't hurt just to have him check you out. That girl is smarter than any of us and besides you owe her your life. As the Chinese believe, or is it the Japanese when you save a person's life your life becomes theirs? By rights you are now her property, so behave. Get up and show us that you can walk under your own steam. I just about had to carry you to get you in here."
Jake slowly pulled himself to his feet. The first few steps were awkward, but as he worked out the stiffness he started to walk properly.
He came over to Sarah and reached down and pulled her into his arm. "I'm not sure about this belonging to someone business, but you are something else and I just wanted you to know have grateful I am."
Sarah wasn't really prepared for or expecting a kiss. It took her by surprise. The intensity and the fire of it raced through her body. It certainly wasn't the effects of the whiskey that made her light-headed. When Jake separated his lips from hers, she looked up and saw the sparkle in his eyes.
"I think I should push you back in the river if that's the sort of reward you are offering. I'll take another one please," she laughed.
It was a happy threesome who brought The Fat Lady back to dock. Jake was feeling better, but he had promised his father he'd see the doctor tomorrow.
Now, I've got to check on my roast. We are having a party and so far as I'm concerned we have more than a few things to celebrate," Arthur said.
Sarah looked up and smiled. "Am I invited?"
Arthur turned and touched her hand. "Sarah, you are the guest of honour. Dinner is at 7:30. But I've got to rush. I don't want to burn the centre piece of our dinner."
Sarah watched the old man hurry up the gangplank. "I like your father. He's a nice man!"
Jake laughed, "you had better not tell him that. It might crack his austere façade. But I agree with you my Dad's great.
"What are you going to do between now and the party?" he asked.
"Well, if you must know I'm going back to my motel room and get in a hot bath and soak until I can get all the grime and tannin and aches out of this body of mine.
You should do the same. Besides with that pint of whiskey your father poured you, you'll suddenly discover that your world will be turned upside down. Anyway a bath will do you good too. But I'm happy that you are alive. I'd hate to lose the only mountaineer educated in archaeology that I've met. Besides according to your father I have more that a passing interest in your well being. I'm not too sure what the going rate is for indentured servants, but when I get back to my work I'll check out the Source Book. I'm sure I can find the going rate."
She turned and started to laugh. It was the laughter that signaled a better understanding between the two of them.
"I'll see you tonight. Up here it's safe to walk the street. My father's home is on the rise just at the edge of the river bend. Too bad, I'm in such poor shape or I'd offer to show you a special skill in body massage." Jake walked away without looking back. If he had he would have seen Sarah stop, turn and smile.
So her first day on the river had been an adventure, an adventure she didn't want to repeat. But she was happy for all that. Jake and his father had turned out to be real people. There was no phoniness in them and she was thankful for that.
The hot bath made all her aches and pains subside. She stayed longer than she should have, but the warmth was so luxurious. After diving down to rescue Jake she had thought she would never be warm again. It was a close call. He could have easily drowned. What would she have done if that had happened? She didn't want to think about it. He was more than the key to where her father might be. He had started something that she had been afraid to awaken. If he had drowned in the cold murky river, part of her would have died too. She had only known him for 24 hours, but in that time she had discovered that she had missed out on some of the things that every man and woman needed. Whether their relationship would ever go anywhere was still an unanswered question. It was too soon to even say it was more than an embryonic thought. God! The water felt wonderful. Slowly and gradually she felt her body regain some of its warmth. She could still feel the terror as she swam down to where Jake was imprisoned. She never wanted to do that again.
Sarah thought everyone in the hamlet was attending the party. She recognized Molly from the restaurant. There was the owner of the motel and the reservations and duty clerk. The others were obvious friends of the Dorchet's.
In the centre of the backyard was a pig roasting on a spit. It was no small roast like she had thought, but a bloody full sized porker. The barbecue was not some small hibachi, but a real life fire pit. So Arthur had understated what he was going to have for dinner. It must have been planned weeks ago. The Fat Lady had sung her last song for the season. The chill in the air was the signal to put the barge into dry dock. Thank God, there was no tragedy this afternoon. This would not have been a cele
bration but something more heart rendering.
"Sarah, we were wondering where you had got to. Here let me introduce you. You know Molly and Bart from the motel. Over there is Clyde from the grocery store…" Arthur introduced her and she no longer felt like a complete stranger.
Even the corporal from the Local RCMP detachment had come with his wife.
Jake watched her as his father introduced Sarah around. The old man was in his glory. Jake realized he was lucky to be here breathing the cool evening air. He watched Sarah. Every movement, every breath he found beautiful. Now he could fulfill the promise or the near promise he had made to her. He could take her up the mountain where he had found the remains of an aircraft. But in doing that what would be accomplished? Wouldn't it only raise more questions and more heartache? She had already told him that she had never known her father. To be left at 18 months without a father would be hard on anyone. Going to the crash site would probably not address her questions. But maybe she needed to just visit the site. Maybe it was a way to let go of the past.
"You look lovely tonight!" he said, as she turned and smiled at his greeting.
"Well, I guess that bath did wonders. It certainly felt like it did. You look refreshed too. I take it you followed my advice?"
"Yes, I sometimes listen to and follow good advice. But you didn't need a bath to look wonderful. When you came down to rescue me I thought I was seeing an angel."
"Jake, I'm not used to outlandish praise. But if you thought I was an angel then you were very much mistaken. Some might even call me a bitch and a hard taskmaster. So please don't put me on a pedestal. I could never stay there and be happy."
Arthur Dorchet came to the rescue, as an awkward silence seemed to overtake them.
"Jake, you're neglecting your duty. You promised me that you'd carve. The mob is getting restless."
Jake nodded in agreement, "I forgot. Well, we don't want to have a riot. Sarah, I hope you are hungry."
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