OOG: We can continue the previous conversation, or Robert can summarize his activities for the next few days to a week, as everyone recuperates from their injuries and prepares for the next adventure.

Also, this will be a good time to revisit the equipment page and update it. Robert and Louis will have access to any reasonable personal gear, and the government will supply any transport they desire.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:18, Tue 10 Jan 2017.

OOG: I'm good with mixing both present conversation for a bit and more OOC planning or broad details.

---

"I will stay by your side," Louis says, her eyes hard with the light of battle. "They murdered my dear cousin, and for that, they will pay. One way or another," she wipes a tear from her eye, "they *will* pay."

O'Rourke nods in agreement. "I have not spoken to my superiors, so I don't know what position my government will take. Considering the arms originated in America, I would think we would want to be involved."

Robert glanced over at his wife and squeezed her hand.  His eyes met hers with love and respect shining through.  "I am blessed with a wife of great heart and courage.  We'll see these blackguards through for all that they've done not only for your cousin but for everyone at risk here."  He smiled at O'Rourke, pleased at her answer as well.  "Agent O'Rourke, we've been good battlefield comrades and I would be pleased to work with you if your superiors allow such.  Your aid and insight has been invaluable in this investigation."

He nodded to the older RN captain who chaired the panel.  "We accept the offer, my wife and I that is.  I would like permission to work with Agent O'Rourke as well."

---

OOC:
In addition to healing up I think that investigation of the Martian smuggling clan would be well worth the effort.  Knowledge of their activities might point to some location of the arms transfers.  Also we'll want to search Derry's quarters and desk.

The adventurer's club will be a good source also as they might have word of strange happenings.

Did anyone follow the escaping Germans?

An interview with the remaining American woman might turn things up.

As for gear, I'm not sure what we might want...

Robert's commander, Captain Hamish Alexander, nods at Robert. "Very well. Commander, you are hereby reinstated as an active officer in Her Majesty's Navy, effective yesterday evening. You are assigned to detached duty until the weapons are either captured or destroyed."

He looks to Louis. "As a dual citizen, I can offer you a civil service position approximating a naval leftenant."

Louis nods. "I accept."

"Thank you. As for you, Agent O'Rourke, the consuls general will determine your role in this operation. I will pass along the recommendations you have received." O'Rourke nods, and Alexander continues. "Whatever equipment you require is at your disposal. We will do our best to provide support, but our manpower resources are stretched to the limits. Open warfare will press us sorely, and we must not allow that circumstance to develop."

OOG: Should I present a summary of Robert's line of investigation over the next week, or would you rather play it out?

OOC: I'm ok with summarizing things about town.  There may be other lines of inquiry that suggest themselves that can be played out or summarized as we get more information.

Playing out some of the interactions of the characters themselves might be of more interest.

Robert stiffens a bit and salutes.  "Thank you Captain, it is good to be back in the service even under such dire circumstances." He smiles down at Louis and clasps her shoulder in an affectionate and encouraging gesture.  "Welcome to the service Mrs. Darlington or should I say Leftenant Darlington."

OOG: I will pull together a synopsis that you can round out. It may take me a day or two, though...

IG: "Since I'm not actually in the military, my dear, it's just Mrs. Darlington." Louis smiles and covers his hand with hers.

"Very well, then," Alexander says. "Let us be about it." He rises, and the others follow suit, signaling that the meeting is over.

Robert turns to Louis.  "Let's return home and rest.  A good meal would be appreciated as well, perhaps we can stop along the way home." He turned to O'Rourke.  "Would you like join us Miss O'Rourke?  You are welcome as our guest."

Syrtis Major (Monday, April 1, 1889, 8:00AM)

Robert, Louis, and Maude O'Rourke are taking breakfast at a cafe located a block north of the Darlingtons' flat. The last week has been both busy, and frustrating.

Louis and Maude are healed enough to travel; the Martian medicines have proven to be a step above the human art in many areas. The British medical establishment has even opened a teaching school in Syrtis Major to study the ancient Martian medical techniques, and the ladies have benefited from their newfound knowledge.

Louis' employer and uncle, devastated by the loss of his daughter, has closed his investigative business and is preparing to return to America.

Gelber, his cohorts, and the weapons are gone, lost somewhere among the canals and warehouses surrounding Syrtis Major. The Martians are generally unwilling to help, save for Verinus' family. His kinfolk are outraged at the family's callous murder, but they have been manifestly unwilling to speak to the police or military authorities.

The American government has assigned O'Rourke to help track down the weapons. There are indications that even more weapons are in the smuggling pipeline, but that's literally all they know at the moment.

The German government is stubbornly refusing to aid in the investigation, to the point of sending more troops to their compound in Syrtis Major.

The RN and Royal Army have requested reinforcements, but they will not be forthcoming for at least three months.

Robert looks up from his meal to see Bessie Womack approaching on the sidewalk. She is dressed in trousers and an American style shirt, in a style much like Louis affects in informal settings. She steps up to their table and glances at each of the ladies before looking to Robert. "May I have a moment of your time, Commander?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 19:58, Sat 14 Jan 2017.

The work over the last week had been frustrating in the lack of progress yet Robert was intensely pleased as both his wife and their new American friend rapidly healed.  It was possible that he could have made more progress had he not spent so much time in the hospital holding vigil bedside with both Louis and Maude.  He'd spent time in the last few days attempting to gain the confidence of Verinus' family but the work was slow due to his awkward command of the Martian language.  Still he would continue to pursue the task and with Maude and Louis again active perhaps they could make more progress there.

Now though with the sun shining and his beloved wife healed and beside him it is time to enjoy a fine meal and good company.  He'd grown to respect the American Secret Service agent and wondered if all American women were such fireballs.  Certainly Louis and Maude as well as the two smugglers had all been strong and confident and yet feminine.  He'd even considered inviting Maude to share the spare bedroom in their flat while the investigations were underway to facilitate their work.  He'd not yet broached the subject with Louis knowing that she might be sensitive to their newly married privacy.

Meanwhile he started slightly as Bessie Womack approached the table. Robert hid his surprise by rising and giving her a slight bow in a gallant gesture.  "Certainly miss Womack, I am at your service.  Would you care to join us?"  He motioned to a chair and moved to pull it out for her.  "You know my wife Louis and miss Maude O'Rourke?"

"Thank you," Bessie says as she sits down. She glances at Louis, who is watching her with interest, and then to Maude, who is wearing a much less charitable expression. The ex-smuggler flushes and lowers her eyes. "First, I must apologize to you, Miss O'Rourke. I did attack you with the intent of taking your life. Saying it was not personal is scant recompense, but it is the truth." She shrugs. "I was protecting my... lover," she clasps her hands in front of her on the table, "and all I could see was her in danger."

"You have a conditional pardon for that, which I agreed to," O'Rourke says in a chill voice. "My orders are to cooperate with you, or," her eyes grow hard, "bring you in dead or alive if you break those conditions."

Bessie nods jerkily. "For what it's worth, I agree with you." She takes a breath and looks to Robert. "Commander Darlington, I am sorry that you and your wife, and," she looks down for a second, "her cousin, became embroiled in this whole situation. I am here to make amends for my foolish decisions that have contributed to the current dilemma."

Robert remained quietly polite.  He deeply abhorred the actions of Bessie and her lover and had she been a man he would have challenged her to a duel.  She'd not only been involved in the death of Louis' cousin and the wounding and near death of his wife but in the injury and death of several good men and Martians.  Then of course there was the deep treachery of cooperating with the Germans and supplying weapons to the feral Martian tribes.  Women and children would die should the tribes have their way not counting the soldiers and sailors that would perish under the guns of the more heavily armed foe.  Yet as a woman she was owed a certain consideration and gallantry at least as long as she was behaving within civilized norms.

He looked at Bessie as she offered her apology.  Robert remained silent for a moment and then nodded.  "Your apology is accepted Miss Womack.  Who are we not to accept the desire for redemption when offered with a honest heart."  He leaned forward and his expression hardened.  "But God help you if you are false Miss Womack for I will have no mercy."  Robert took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.  "Now, how can you help us in our present circumstances?"

Womack nods calmly at Robert's threat. "There was a time when I could agree with such a sentiment with a clean conscience." She smiles, but there is only sadness and a sense of acceptance. "My life is forfeit; all I may do now is try to undo some of what I have set in motion. To that end, I wish to join in your quest to find the smuggled weapons."

Louis' face goes still, and her eyes are death itself. She takes a breath, and looks to Robert.

O'Rourke nods slightly, and her smile would freeze a lava flow. She also looks to Robert.

Robert listened quietly.  He glanced first at his wife and then at Claude.  After a moment he stood and extended his hand to Maude.  "Miss Womack, I believe you and accept your aid.  Welcome."

Womack takes his hand. "Thank you, Sir."

Louis takes a breath. "What shall we do next?"

Robert took a deep breath.  "Please sit down Miss Womack."  He again offered her a chair.  "Would you care for tea or coffee?  We have stronger libations if you feel the need as well."  While they settled their guest he turned to the American woman'  "Perhaps you can explain some of the background that brought you here to Mars Miss Womack and how you think you might aid us."

The waiter attending your table walks up as Bessie sits down.

"Coffee would be fine."

"Right away, Miss," the waiter replies, and leaves to get her order.

At Robert's question, she sighs. "I'm from Georgia, originally."

(Robert knows that the Confederate States seceded from the US in 1860, and then voted to rejoin the US in 1870. War was narrowly averted by the American president's brilliant diplomacy, one part of which was his plan to abolish slavery - and help the southerners to transition their wealth from the slaves to other assets, and to enfranchise the freed slaves. Many of them chose to move to the other planets, there to start their lives anew.)

"My family didn't do so well in the Secession. When I came along, things hadn't improved much. So, I set out on my own. It's a long story, but I met Claude, and we decided to move here so we could live a little more openly. She had the contacts for smuggling, and I provided the needed paperwork."

"I can help by following paper trails to the suppliers. The government will need proof, not just allegations when this matter goes to court. I am not the only person involved in this trade, Commander Darlington. I have evidence that there are more weapons smugglers than just Claude and I out there."

Robert sipped his own tea quietly as he listened to Bessie speak.  He was peripherally aware of the events in the USA almost 40 years ago.  There had been speculation as he recalled of the possibility of a civil war that might put the War of the Roses and the English Civil War together to shame but it had not come to be.  Mainly it was a source of wardroom banter as to how the powerful USA might have broken up in a civil war with British intervention on the side of the southern states.

"Your knowledge of the paperwork and commercial trails for this foul business could be very valuable Miss Womack.  Such things certainly are not my forte.  When you say that more parties are involved do you have any evidence or even speculation as to their identity?  There is no point in tracking down the recent shipments if the Germans merely shift to other suppliers."

"Perhaps they could," Louis interjects. "But it is still the same person, Gerber, at the heart of the matter. That narrows the search, since we start with his organization."

Robert nodded.  "Well, what exactly do we know about Gerber?"

OOG: I misspelled his name; it's Gelber. Sorry.

IG:

"He is an attache with the German Embassy," Louis says.

"He's in their intelligence service, called the Abteilung," Womack adds.

O'Rourke nods. "According to his dossier, he's Prussian, inevitably, and holds the rank of Major. He's unmarried, and has no other family here on Mars."

Robert considered again...

"Unmarried, Prussian and with no family here on Mars.  That leaves little in the way of leverage or weakness.  Does he have any known vices or habits?"

Womack and O'Rourke shake their heads in unison.

Louis notes their reactions, and smiles grimly. "His superiors would surely consider a man most carefully before installing him in such a critical posting. Although, it seems that a sense of morality was not among their preferred qualifications."

Robert shrugged.  "Well then, we'll have to go about this the hard way."  He looked about as he made up his mind.  "Ok... Miss Womack as you suggest see if you can start investigating the supply lines of gun smuggling.  What is your plan and what help do you need from us?  Perhaps I might help along the docks if your investigations take you there."

While she answered Robert looked to Louis and the other American.  "I think our first step will be to talk to the family of the slain Martian boatmen.  They won't talk to the authorities but I think they will speak to us."

Womack smiles grimly. "I can tell you this; every gun they smuggle comes in via the British Merchantile fleet. Everyone else is subject to intensive searches, except for the diplomatic pouches. No embassy has enough traffic to account for the shipments I've seen. The Germans ship their military supplies in, of course, but they do not buy American arms."

Louis and O'Rourke nod in unison.

Robert stands and begins to pace.  It is evident that the news of the smuggling path has angered him greatly.  "Blasted merchants always grubbing for money.  They'd sell their mothers if there was money to be had.  As much as stopping the slaughter of civilians and seeing Gelber to justice I do want to put those traitors behind bars."

Louis stands and takes his hand. "We will see that they are, my husband."

Robert goes to the liquor cabinet and brings out four glasses and a bottle of gin.  He pours a little bit into each glass and hands it around.  "Pardon for the strong drink ladies but I think it is well called for now."  He raised his glass; "Confusion to Gelber and the traitors."

The ladies raise their glasses. "To their confusion."

"And to their destruction," Louis says quietly as she sips her gin.

"So," Maude O'Rourke says as she lowers her glass, "do we go together, or split up to begin this business?"

Robert set his glass down and looked about the room.  "We should go in pairs at the very least.  Gelber knows of us and we cannot discount the fact that he will have agents in town that may seek violence."

Louis nods. "I will settle the bill, while you discuss the particulars." She goes to speak with the staff.

Womack looks at O'Rourke. "I regret that we found ourselves on opposite sides of the law. If it is worth anything, I promise to not betray you. Not after what happened to Claude."

Maude sighs. "I won't say that I like this arrangement, but I think you're being sincere." She looks to Robert. "I think we should talk to the Martians, while you and Louis investigate at the port. You will get much further with the Brits," she grins at the word, "than us Americans."

Louis steps up to Robert's side. "The check is paid."

Robert listens as Womack spoke.  He tried to assess her sincerity as well and could only decide that she seemed trustworthy on the surface.  They'd have to watch her but her knowledge could come in handy.  At least the woman had no reason to love the Germans which spoke in the favor of her help being honest.

He smiled and nodded to Maude.  "You're right of course, my accent and experience will help with the sea and space going types." He glanced over at Louis with affection as she returned.  "My wife and I will investigate the docks then.  Miss Womack, do you know anything of the British merchants who might have been involved in this trade?"

Womack shakes her head. "I do not. I know that Claude kept a journal, maybe she noted it there."

Robert perks up at the mention of a journal.  "While I don't want to pry into personal matters or raise unfortunate reminders, could you or perhaps Louis go through Claude's journal?  Might there be other papers that could shed light on suspicious activities?"

"Oh!" Louis says with a smile as she remembers. "We still have her journal, my dear. I put in in our secretary when we returned home."

Womack smiled wistfully. "When you are done with that, I'd like to have it. It's all I have of her."

"We also have some letters," Louis says quietly. "I shall gather them with the journal, and return them."

Womack smiles. "Thank you, you are most kind."

Robert considered.  "It may be best to have Miss Womack aid us in the review of the journal at our house.  I recall there were entries that confused us mightily."  He grew more serious as well.  "And of course the journal and letters are yours Miss Womack."

"Not to invite myself, but I would also like to accompany Miss Womack," O'Rourke says.

OOG: Assuming there are no objections...

IG: The group makes its way back to the Darlingtons' flat, where Louis produces the items taken from Claude. Womack sits down with Louis beside her to pore through the diary. At length, she looks up. "Other than the descriptions of the shipments, the only information she recorded was her British contact she only called 'McD'. She paid him five hundred dollars on the last shipment."

Robert brewed tea for the ladies and poured himself a gin and tonic as they reviewed the journal. "McD...  how long ago was the payment made, can you tell?  That might provide some further triangulation."

"I remember that Claude bought a new dress a fortnight ago," Womack says. "We tried to keep the businesses private as much as we could."

"A fortnight... well that would give us a bit more of a time frame.  We'll want to examine the records of arrivals and departures as well as the logs in customs.  It should help pinpoint at least a few likely suspects."  He rose and offered Louis a hand.  "Shall we go ladies?"

As if they were of one mind, Louis and O'Rourke check their pistols, and slip them into hidden holsters. Louis takes Robert's hand, and Womack walks toward the door.

O'Rourke looks at Robert. "Shall we meet for lunch at the Explorer's Club, then?"

Robert checks his own pistols, the large Webley supplemented by a smaller pocket pistol as a back-up.  "Yes, I'm sure we'll be quite hungry by then and can check back in a private booth."

He took Louis' hand and headed out the door with the three women.  He and Louis would go to the docks and do some sniffing about.

Syrtis Major (Monday, April 1, 1889, 9:30AM)

Robert and Louis take a cab and arrive at the warehouse district located off Meepsoor Road about a mile east of the Shipyard District. They both recognize the area, since it where the shootout occurred.

There is a fair bit of traffic on the main road, with heavy freight wagons moving about. There is also a visible police presence, with an officer on every third corner.

Robert asks the cab driver about the heavy police presence.

The cabbie is a young man, barely out of his teens. "There was a great awful gun battle here a week ago. Some people were killed, and the Germans are madder than wet hens. The army is out on maneuvers, so it's up to the police to watch things here in the city."

"You have much information, young sir," Louis observes.

The cabbie shrugs. "People talk, m'lady."

"Indeed they do," she says wryly.

Robert continues the line of questioning as the cabbie seems willing to talk.  "What have you heard about the gun battle?  Why are the Germans in particular angry?"

"A bloke and three women got into a shootout with some Germans. One of the women and several Germans were killed. The police, the army, and the navy are all in it, too. The people who started it got arrested." The man shrugs. "I don't know what it was all about, though."

Robert nods sagely. "And what about the Germans?  It seems an awful lot of cheek starting a shoot out in British territory?"

"They claim it was self-defense, if you can believe that. Once the police and the army showed up, they jumped in some canal boats and hauled off up the canal."

Robert shook his head, making a show not entirely put on of disgust and contempt.  "Did anyone track them down?  Any red blooded man would want to see those cowards put paid."

"I don't really know. Someone said they just vanished among the other boats on the canal."

Robert growled in legitimate frustration. "Any red blooded Englishman would demand to put paid to these dastards.  Do you know anyone that might have been around the docks and seen more about the boats they used?"

"The stevedores know more about the boats than anyone, save the boatmen themselves."

Robert exchanged glances with Louis as the conversation continued.  "Well, perhaps we'll have to pay the stevedores a visit.  Is there a pub that they tend to frequent nearby?"

"Aye, the Martian Winds, two blocks that way," he points to the south. "Beggin' yer pardon, but my next fare has arrived." Robert looks up to see a group of workers approaching the cab.

Robert tips the man handsomely and offers his arm to Louis.  As they move off he speaks softly to her.  "I think that a visit to the public house later in the day after our primary investigations are complete is in order."

Louis nods. "I agree. Where to, now?"

"Let's go look at the log in customs to try and pinpoint this captain.  Then we can talk a bit on the waterfront and finally see what the stevedores have to say."

The Royal Navy's Customs Office is located near both the Interplanetary Port, and the Meepsor Canal, serving both in one facility. It is located in a large warehouse, which Robert and Louis arrive at in short order.

Robert's credentials are enough to gain him entry to the facility. He stands just inside the entrance gate, and sees there are several offices to his right, and a dozen warehouse doors to his left. A long line of freight wagons sits on the street, waiting to load the incoming cargo.

Robert walks down the line of offices looking for that of a supervisor.

One of the office doors is labeled "Customs Manager".

Robert will knock and then enter.

The office is typical of government offices Robert has seen, to the point of the desk he finds himself in front of being nearly identical to his own. A filing cabinet sits behind it, and there is an inner door to the right of the desk. Further to the right, a window, lightly dusted with ochre dust, looks out into the customs warehouse.

A young man of Asiatic descent looks up from his work with a polite smile. "How may I help you, Sir," then he sees Louis, "and Madam?"

Robert opened the door and motioned Louis in ahead of him.  "Thank you sir.  I am Commander Robert Darlington retired from her majesty's navy and this is my wife Louis.  We are investigating the recent unpleasantness with the riot involving the Germans.  Part of this entails tracking down a certain ship captain.  We were hoping to gain permission to look through the customs and arrivals logs to narrow down the identity of our quarry."

"Oh," the man says with a nod. "You will need to speak to the manager. She must authorize any access to our records." He steps around the desk. "She is on the customs floor. If you will be so good as to follow me, I will take you to her."

Robert nods agreeably.  "Certainly, we appreciate your assistance in this matter."  He motions to Louis and then follows to the manager's office.

The secretary leads the way though the office doorway, and out onto the customs floor. On Robert's left are the exit doors, with handcarts stacked high with wooden crates and boxes of all descriptions. Groups of workers labor to lift or slide them into the waiting cargo wagons.

Some of the larger and heavier crates run on rollers, set in metal frames bolted to the floor, while the smaller items are moved by handcarts and muscle power.

To Robert's right, the inspectors work from a row of a dozen cubicles spaced across the floor. Beyond them, stacks of crates and boxes stand waiting to be inspected. Another set of large doors is just visible beyond, leading to what Robert knows is the port itself.

They walk the length of the warehouse, stopping to let a handcart or two pass, and nipping over the roller tracks between crates. Finally, the secretary points ahead. "There she is."

They walk over to a middle aged woman who is speaking to one of the uniformed customs inspectors. She turns to them as they walk up. She wears an inspector's uniform with a brassard indicating her rank, and she smiles at her subordinate. She appears to be of Indian descent, with olive skin and straight black hair pulled into a bun.

"Mizz Duvall, may I present Commander Robert Darlington and his wife. They are investigators who wish to inspect our logs."

"Indeed," Duvall says with a nod. "Please, give me a moment to finish here, and I will speak with you."

The secretary leads Robert and Louis to a relatively safe spot a few feet away. A minute later, Duvall approaches them. "Now, how may I help you, Commander?"

Robert follows easily through the familiar hustle and bustle of cargo and people.  He is careful of Louis making sure that she stays safe but more realistically pointing out some of the more clever methods of moving heavy objects about with a minimum of effort.  When the reach the manager he introduces both Louis and himself but says little more in public.

When they reach a more private place he hands the manager a private letter of introduction written for just this sort of activity.  "Mrs. Darlington and I have been activated as private agents of the Crown to investigate not only the unpleasantness with the Germans most recently but the shocking breadth of arms smuggling and corruption in the Royal armory.  We seek to track down a certain ethership captain who has an arrangement with the smugglers by looking through your logs of arrivals." He paused.  "Your complete discretion and that of your supervisor would be greatly appreciated for the foe places little value on human life."

Duvall listens to Robert's introduction, and then she reads the neatly typed letter with a carefully neutral face. They were out of earshot, but not completely away from others on the floor.

Finally, she nods. "We have heard rumors of smuggling, although we have not seen anything on the scale of a major smuggling ring. Our problem, "she indicates the large building beyond with a wave of her hand, "is that we simply cannot inspect more than a tithe of the cargo we receive in any meaningful way. I have twenty inspectors on duty during our busiest part of the work week, while we receive approximately five thousand tons of cargo per day. Further, unless we break open every crate, we have no way to tell for certain what they contain."

Duvall sighs. "What we do is certify our shippers and receivers as to their trustworthiness. You are welcome to review our logs, and the shippers to whom we have issued certificates."

Robert nods sympathetically. "We faced the problem in the Navy trying to enforce quarantines along the African coast or around Venus.  There were never enough men and ships."  He motions back toward the offices.  "There may be patterns that we can discern among the shipments with the additional knowledge we've picked up."

"Then I am more than willing to let you be about it," Duvall says with a grim smile. "Lothar, if you would show them the logs and the certificates, hopefully that will help them." The man who escorted Robert here bows fractionally. "Yes, Ma'am." He looks at the pair expectantly.

"Thank you ma'am.  We'll let you know what we find.  Also if you can keep this inquiry as silent as possible it would be beneficial to the health of my wife and myself."  He nodded to Lothar and followed the man.

Lothar leads the way to an office in the same area as the manager's office. There are rows of wooden and metal filing cabinets here, all neatly labeled by month and year. "Let me know if I can assist you with anything," Lothar says with a nod as he exits the room.There are several wooden tables with matching chairs, and gas lights for illumination.

"Oh, boy." Louis says, puffing her cheeks in a low whistle. An overhead fan rotates slowly, but the room is still stuffy.

Robert shakes his head as he looks at the rows of cabinets.  "This is part of the reason I was a line officer and not in the staff.  I always hated the paperwork."  He walked over to one of the cabinets and gave it a little kick."  He sighed.  "What time frame does the diary point to?  We can start there."

Louis steps up beside Robert and takes his hand in hers. "We can get through this, my dear." She pulls out the diary and opens it to the last entry:

5-15 2300 – whse 37A JW Dist. Red/Blue not Red/Black Wm.
M. 76 – 4x10 + 8k
M. 86 – 2x10 + 4k
M. 73 – 40x10 + 80k
M. 87 – 3x10 + 12k
CM. 73 – 10x10 + 10k
4000- in
500- RMM McD.
100- pol.
20 - dress
15 - boots

Robert looked over the list again and shook his head.  He kissed Louis on the cheek.  "Perhaps the 5-15 is May the 15th and the 2300 is 11 PM?"

"Yes, I think so." Louis runs her finger down the page. "We know about the warehouse, but I'm not sure about JW. We never did see the actual crates, but I'm wondering if this part is the description. The weapons are described, and then this last part is about the money. Do you see anything there that may help us?"

Robert looked over the notes they had taken.  "Well perhaps JW and Wm are initials.  Wn could be short for William.  The colors might be the description of a ship color?"

Louis' eyes narrow as she studies the entry. "Wait a moment. Red and black." She bites her lip in a most alluring manner as she thinks, and then her face lights up. "The crates! She's describing the crates; JW Black and Red." She grins at Robert. "Whiskey. Johnnie Walker, red, blue and black label, to be exact."

Robert thinks for a moment and then laughs.  "Whiskey..." He shook his head.  "Rum and gin is more the drink of a sailor and Englishman.  So they smuggled the rifles in whiskey crates or barrels.  That's clever, especially if they used kegs and immersed the rifles in the liquid.  It's an old trick for smugglers."

Louis nods. "Either way, it gives us a place to start. How many shipments of whisky could have come in at around midnight on the fifteenth?"

Robert moved over to the wall of filing cabinets.  "Well, let's see what we have for that time period.  It should be in the records." He opened cabinets until he found the time period in question and started looking for records of a shipment of American whiskey.

With Louis' assistance, Robert locates five shipments that include American whiskey. "Hm," Louis says as she flips though the records, "they don't show an exact description of the crates, though."

Robert spread the files out on the table before them.  "Can we see where they were cleared for customs?  There might be an address or vendor to whom they were sold."

Louis frowns. "Look at the number of rifles they shipped," she points out. "It would have to be an oddly shaped crate, and not one that would pass as a shipment of liquors."

Robert frowned as well.  "That's true, but would a rifle fit lengthwise in a keg of whiskey?  Or they may have bribed the inspector to ignore the difference with the manifest."

"Or, the rifles were stored in the same consignment as the whiskey," Louis suggests, "not necessarily in the whiskey shipment itself."

Robert nods slowly.  "True... guns and liquor are the life blood of smugglers."  He shuffled back through the papers.  "So what stands out among these five shipments that would tell us something odd was going on?"

"I don't know. They're all shipments of a hundred pieces or so." Louis sits down and pores over the paperwork. "Robert," she says at length, look at this." She points to the declarations page of a shipment. The shipment was received from a Clyde McDermott, and Robert also notes, the shipment contained a diplomatic pouch for the German Embassy that, of course, bypassed any Customs inspection.

"A hundred pieces or so... that would put an upper limit on the size of the crates and volume of the shipment."  Robert leans over the desk, his hand brushing lightly along Louis' shoulder.  He reads the document and nods and then pulls out their notes.

500- RMM McD

"So... maybe our Mr. McDermot is the 'McD'.  And that would be 500 Reminingtons?  Let's see where else our friend is mentioned."  He starts to stack the shipping documents over the last few weeks or month to sort for the name.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:56, Sun 07 May 2017.

"Pounds, more likely," Louis comments. "These entries seem to involve transactions. Four thousand in, twenty and fifteen for clothing, five hundred to our elusive friend, and then a hundred to P-O-L, whatever that is."

She digs in to help Robert look for McDermott. The only Clyde McDermott they find is the chief officer of the RMS Windsong, a ship based in Hong Kong, but is a frequent visitor to Syrtis Major. Their prior visit was three months ago, and they left for Earth two days ago.

"It looks like our bird has flown the coop.  We could get a naval vessel to chase them down.  As the first officer he may be doing this smuggling on the side."

Louis chews her lip as she thinks. "We will need to tie this shipment to Gelber, though. Otherwise, all we have is circumstantial evidence of McDermott's involvement." She taps the paperwork. "I think this shipment with the diplomatic pouch is the best place to start. It would be a bold move to so obviously tie the Germans to the smuggled weapons, but Gelber may have been foolish enough to assay it."

Robert considers the options and slowly nods.  "We'll be breaking the law going after the diplomatic pouch but I'm confident we'll find the smoking gun so to speak.  There isn't much that the authorities can do to a diplomat other than expel him but the evidence can be used to hang McDermot."  He paused and considered.  "We should also look into other pouches addressed to Gelber as well.  They man lead to other conspirators."

"Hm." Louis looks through the documents for a few minutes. "Here," she says at last. "On Windsong's last visit, there was also a German diplomatic pouch, and it was signed for by one of Gelber's men. i recognized his name from the list of those killed in the fight."

Robert nods.  "That shipment then as well should be checked.  It may lead to other smugglers.  On either shipment who were the consignees for the cargo?"

Louis flips the pages, comparing the entries. "There are four consignees," she says as she brings out a small notebook and a pencil. "Devin Webster, Karl van Dorson, Charles Englemann, and Errol Givens. The first two men took the prior shipment, and the last two the most recent one."

Robert takes the names and regards them.  "Let's see what the files say about these men."

OOC: is there information about the people who took the cargo or will we need to ask the staff here?

The files list their addresses as Warehouses 32A, 34A, 37A and 40A in the nearby warehouse district. There is no other information about them.

Robert looks at the notes.  "37A, that was one of the places listed in the diary."

"Yes, and where we met the German soldiers," Louis affirms. "Perhaps we should visit the other warehouses?"

Robert rose and began to put the records back.  "It's a start, more than we've had before."

After a few minutes, the files are back in their proper places, and Louis has a page of notes in her neat handwriting. "Where shall we go first?"

"Let's start with 32A and work our way up systematically.  Let's ask the manager if he has any information on the owners of these places.  He may have other files than these."

Louis nods. "She might, at that." Robert and Louis step out of the file room, and immediately spot Ms. Duvall. She is standing a few feet away, speaking to a trio of customs inspectors beside their station.

"Mrs. Duvall, excuse me if I might have a word with you at your leisure."  Robert waited until she was free and then asked if she might have information on the other locations such as owners and even shipments that had gone to them.  He'll explain that they might contain clues to their search.

Duvall takes a minute longer with her staff, and then steps over to Robert and Louis. "I'm sorry, we don't keep separate records of where goods go after they leave our facility. I do know that many of the larger shippers have the nearer warehouses."

She thinks for a moment. "If I wanted to know about a building owner, I would ask the local fire brigade. They had some trouble with fires a few years back, and the city council passed some fairly strict inspection protocols. With your credentials, they would probably give you the owners' information."

Robert considers their options and then nods.  "Thank you Ms. Duvall, you and your staff have been most helpful.  I think we have several leads that may allow us to track down some of the criminals."  With suitable thanks and directions to the fire brigade he departs with Louis.

As they walk toward the station he speaks up.  "The fire brigade should have a very good feel not only for the actual owners but perhaps something about their habits and certainly an idea of the internal layouts."

The nearest fire brigade station is three blocks from the Customs warehouse. When Robert and Louis arrive, the station's doors are open, and the crew has rolled out one of the pumpers to wash it. Three men are engaged in this task as the pair approaches. One of the men, a solidly built, dark-skinned man, looks in their direction, and then peers more closely at Louis.

The former frontierswoman's look had changed significantly since her nuptials. Gone were the rough shirts, mannish pants and the short hairstyle. Now, her red hair fell down over her shoulders in a natural wave, and she wore a ladies blouse and tailored trousers that left no doubt as to her gender. To be sure, such an outfit would have drawn attention on Earth, but in the colonies, it was considered a practical mode of dress.

His eyes widen, and he stands straight, the dripping cloth in his hand forgotten, as she approaches. "Hullo, how may we help ye?"

Robert notes the attention that Louis garners but says nothing.  He's happy with his wife and confident of their relationship.  "Good morning, I'm Robert Darlington and this is my wife Louis.  We are working for the crown colony and wish to speak to you about a few of the warehouses around here that may be involved in illegal activities."

Two more firefighters step around the apparatus and gather next to their comrades. They are all wearing undershirts, heavy canvas pants held up by suspenders, and firefighting boots. The silent pair also sneak glances at Louis as they listen.

"Good morning, sir, and," he bowed slightly in Louis' direction, "madam." He frowned thoughtfully at Robert's statement. "We've seen contraband during fire calls, since some things are not allowed because they are flammable," he muses. "Other than that, we fair much keep to ourselves." The others nod in agreement at their apparent leader's statement.

Robert nods in agreement. "I served a number of years in her Majesty's navy on blockade and inspection duties.  You learn what to see and what not to, I understand."  He handed the leader his credentials.  "Still, the men we are tracking down are smuggling armies through the colony to the Martian tribes.  This isn't just contraband tobacco or French perfume; it's life and death for us all."

The man takes Robert's identification and pales when he mentions the arms smuggling. "I dinna help ye much, but the fire inspector might." The man points down the street. "His office is three blocks down on the left."

Robert nods and retrieves his papers.  "Thank you gentlemen and God speed."  He turns back to Louis and motions her onward.  Once they are clear of the station he speaks to her.  "I think they know more than they're willing to say but I'll not push it.  They need to maintain some degree of neutrality in the community, especially in a rough neighborhood in order to do their jobs safely."

"Yes, I suppose they do," Louis murmurs as they move off. She walks beside him with her easy gait, looking ahead and down. After they cross the block from the firehouse, she glances at him. "Do you know where they sell those fireman's uniforms?" Her cheeks are flushed, and her pink tongue comes out against the backs of her teeth as she smiles crookedly.

Robert let's his hand find Louis' as they walk.  He smiles down at her and with a glance to see that they are momentarily alone on the street leans down and kisses her.  "I think I know a few costume stores where they sell those uniforms."  He leans in and kisses her again, holding it as his tongue explores her mouth and then pulls back, his own cheeks flushed and eyes bright.  "Maybe a break from our investigation is in order." His free hand is on her hip as he keeps her close with the grip on her hand.

Louis laughs, her eyes alight with love and desire. "Let's speak to the fire marshal first. Then, we can go to the port and borrow one of their ashore rooms." She squeezes his hand and bumps him playfully with her hip.

The navy keeps a barracks with private rooms for officers who have to remain ashore while their ships are in port. Since Robert was now active, he could request a room at no charge. The barracks in question is just over a mile away, in the same direction they are walking. This is a main street, so there are wagons and the occasional hansom cab driving on the street.

Robert gives Louis a playful slap to her bottom, the male styled trousers giving him better access than a skirt and ruffles. "You are a randy wench.  We'll find a second hand shop along the way and see what we can do.  I can think of a few things that might look good on you as well my darling."  His eyes are twinkling and he gives her a peck on the cheek as he reluctantly lets her go.

After a bit of directions from a neighborhood policeman they quickly find the fire marshal's office.  Robert knocks and they go inside a small office crowded with large drawers for holding building drawings and sketches.

"Yes, but I am your randy wench, my sailor man." Louis bumps against him as he smacks her bottom, and giggles at his mentioning the second hand shop. "We can go back to the ones naer the Adventurer's Club."

At the fire marshal's office, they find the marshal and his assistant working at their desks. The assistant's ancestry is somewhat uncertain; dark skin and eyes, but European in his features. The fire marshal is tall and wiry, with classic Irish features. "Good day," he says politely. "How may I help you?"

Both men look briefly at Louis, and then return their attention to Robert.

Robert takes a glance at his wife as well, pleased that she's attracting attention and proud that she is all his.  He turns back to the two and steps forward.  "I'm Lcdr Robert Darlington and this is my wife Louis." He hands them his credentials.  "We're acting as agents of the Crown in an investigation of treason and smuggling of weapons to hostile Martian tribes.  There are several warehouses in the area that we've implicated in moving smuggled goods and wanted to see what you knew of them in the course of your duties."

The men shake their heads. "No, all we've seen are legitimate goods. Well, unless you count the fruits and vegetables people try to ship in. Not that they are our business, but I always warn the owners about it."

Robert has heard that the Government is cracking down on offworld shipments of plant material in a bid to protect the local flora and fauna from offworld bugs.

Robert nods, a little disappointed but then if the smuggling were obvious it likely would have been reported some time ago.  "And what do you know about the owners of each of these warehouses?  Also do you have floor plans that we might examine?"

"We have some information about each of the owners, in case there is a fire on their premises." The inspector turns to his assistant. "Please find whatever the Commander needs."

"Yes, sir." The assistant turns to Robert. "Our records office is next door. If you will follow me, I will pull the ones you need." He steps out of the office, and enters at the next doorway. The room is much like the records room of the Customs building. The assistant turns to Robert. "About which warehouses are you seeking information?"

Robert motions Louis out ahead of him.  "Certainly, thank you."  He follows along and after a moment's thought answers; "It will be warehouses 32A, 34A, 37A and 40A."

It takes the assistant a few minutes to gather the documents, and he sets them before Robert and Louis. "I regret that we cannot allow the documents to be taken out of this room, but you may inspect them here."

Robert nods; "Thank you, we understand." He holds out a chair for Louis and then sits himself.  "Splitting the paperwork in two piles he digs into one and starts to read about what he can."

The pair pour through the reports and look over the floor plans. The warehouses are all laid out in nearly the exact same way. A quick check of the architect's stamps verifies that the same person designed them.

"This is interesting," Louis says at length. She passes a group of three reports to Robert. "These reports all mention crate debris and packing materials stacked in the warehouses. That's a fire code violation."

Robert looks at the reports carefully.  "Excuse me sir," he asks of the inspector. "With a violation like this they could be cited, correct?  Could you allow me to pose as an inspector with my wife as an assistant and go into the warehouse for an audit?"

The inspector shakes his head. "I could not. What I could do is allow you to accompany me. Which warehouse did you wish to see?"

Robert tapped the paper on the warehouse with the annotation for loose packing materials.  "That one if you would."

Louis spreads the three reports out on the table. "There are three warehouses with the same complaint laid against them. Numbers 34A, 37A and 40A."

"I can take you to see them all," the inspector says with a nod. "If you will excuse me, I have to finish up in my office, and then we will get started."

Robert shook his head.  "That would speak of some haste in unpacking large shipments if they are leaving packing material lying about."  He rose from the desk as well. "Thank you inspector, please take your time.  Can we bother you for a cup of tea while we wait?"

"Of course. I will have my assistant make some for us."

The assistant arrives a few minutes later with a tea service, and pours for Robert and Louis. "The inspector will be ready in a few minutes."

Robert thanks the assistant and sips some tea.  "Louis, what do you think of the significance of the discarded packing material in these three warehouses?"

"If you are thinking that people are breaking crates to find their smuggled goods, then I agree with you," Louis says. She smiles wickedly. "After we look at the warehouses, maybe we can go to the Explorer's Club, my husband?"

Robert nods and then in response to Louis' question winks.  "I think we have a few stops to make along the way to pick up the goods that we discussed before we reach the club.  Then I think we'll have everything we need."

Louis giggles. "I like that idea, my love."

The assistant looks at them both curiously, and then shakes his head. "I shan't inquire," he says. "I'm a married man, myself, you see."

"I do," Louis says with a nod and a lurking smile.

"Excuse me while I see if the inspector needs anything else." He leaves the room.

Robert favors Louis with an affectionate smile and a sparkle in his eyes.  He doesn't respond to the assistant, choosing to maintain some level of dignity before the man.  When he leaves Robert swiftly steps over to Louis and takes her in his arms.  He kisses her deeply, his hands roaming over her body hungrily for a long, long moment.  Finally he breaks the kiss, his groin pressed into her stomach by the firm grip of his hands on her derriere.  "You are a lusty wench and I like it."

"Oh, my," Louis giggles. "You know just what to say and do to your wench, too."

The sound of footsteps in the hall warns them just in time, and Louis steps back to straighten Robert's collar as the inspector steps into the room. "If you are ready, we may begin the inspections," he says with a smile.

Robert gives her a quick smack to the bottom as they break free before turning to the inspector with only a slight blush.  He gathers his hat and nods.  "Thank you Inspector, we appreciate your cooperation in this matter.  Should we pose as an assistant of some sort during the inspections?"

The inspector pretends to have not notice their antics, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth for a moment more imagined than seen. "Yes, of course. That is a splendid idea."

He leads the way out and the trio proceeds to the closest warehouse on foot, since it is but four blocks away. The first stop on their journey is Warehouse 32A. The inspector steps up to the rear door and knocks.

A rather portly man dressed in workman's clothes opens the door. "Yes?"

"Fire inspector, here to examine your building."

The man frowns. "We had your inspection not a fortnight ago."

The inspector smiles and nods. "Yes, I know, but I have new inspectors in training, and we are going over the latest inspections again."

The man sighs. "Very well, please come in and I will fetch the manager."

The inspector leads the couple inside, and they soon begin the inspection. The inspector leads them around the building, and he points out where he'd found the packing materials. The area is now clean, with nothing out of the ordinary in view. The building's floor is about 20% full of wooden crates and boxes of all sizes. Robert and Louis see four workmen about, plus the manager.

Robert follows along, willing to say nothing as the inspector stays quiet as well.  He walks along quietly and enters the warehouse along with the inspector and Louis, offering her to enter first after the inspector.  Inside he looks around carefully, shaking his head a bit as his eyes meet Louis'.  He walks across the floor and strolls by the crates, looking about.

The warehouse is devoid of the least scrap of the evidence described in the report. The inspector finishes his rounds, writes a few notes in his notebook, and leads Robert and Louis to the next warehouse on the list, Warehouse 34A.

Much the same scene plays out there, and then it is on to Warehouse 40A.

"It appears that the inspector's reports were taken to heart, and someone removed the evidence," Louis says quietly as they trudge along the street between the warehouses.

Robert nods, frowning at their lack of success.  "There might be street urchins or the like that could remember odd goings on around these warehouses, assuming that they weren't able to disguise the movement of the contraband as normal shipments.  The weapons would have to gotten out of town somehow."

"Tis possible," Louis says as she watches a freight wagon rumble past and stop at the warehouse in front of them. The wagon is drawn by horses instead of Martian draft animals, and it has stopped at Warehouse 40A.

The trio arrives at the warehouse door, and find the wagon is being loaded from the doorway by four men carrying small crates in their hands. The wagon itself is unremarkable - the bed is shoulder height above the ground; the wheels are nearly seven feet tall. A tan canvas cover stretches over the bed, held up by metal stanchions attached to the wooden sides.

"Excuse us, please," the inspector says, and the men stop their work to allow the three to enter.

Robert glances at the crates as they pass by.

OOC: big enough for weapons?

The crates are all about the size of small steamer chests, and the men are carrying them with rope handles that wrap around the crates. The handles are adjustable, and the workmen carry them to facilitate their work.

Brent notes any identification on the wagon and then heads inside with the inspector and Louis.

The wagon is painted in a forest green and gold livery, of which Robert has seen at least twenty examples during the day's activities in the warehouse district.

They step inside to find a bustling warehouse, with men moving crates out the main doors to a row of wagons. The inspector leads you to the area where he'd found the packing materials, but it has been removed. The inspector steps up to Robert.

"There is a shipment just coming in from Customs. Maybe you can find what you're seeking there." He points to the front of the warehouse, where a pair of wagons are being unloaded.

Robert nods and strolls over to the front of the warehouse.

Robert walks across the smooth floor, stepping around groups of workmen and their burdens as they transfer cargo from all points at once, it seems.

"Look out!" Robert steps around a packed cargo cart - and is struck heavily on his right side. He lands on the floor, and is dazed when the left side of his head strikes the floor. Everything goes dark for a few seconds, and then he sees two dark faced men bending over him, with concern in their eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, we didn't see you walking there. Can you get up?"

Robert shakes his head and clutches at the bruise.  He rolls over and lays still for a moment before rising to a sitting position.  After another moment he nods and holds up his hands.  "I think so, here, help me to my feet."

He's been hit harder, but it's been a while. Robert is able to regain his balance, and he looks around to see a group of workmen peering at him. "We're glad you're not hurt, but can you come over this way so you don't risk being struck again," one of them says as he gently directs Robert to a safer place.

Robert groans a bit and allows himself to be moved. "What hit me?"

"We was movin' a cart, sir, and we didn't see ya until it was fair too late." The man, a lean fellow in warehouseman's coveralls, looks carefully at Robert. "Maybe you bein' seen by a doctor?"

Robert started to shake his head and winced at the pain.  "No, there is no need for a doctor.  Let's rather continue the inspection."  He looked about to distract from his pain.  "What is in those crates?  Are you transporting hazardous materials?"

The man's gaze sharpens. "Well, beggin' your pardon, sir, but what sort of an inspector are you? I mean, you don't have a uniform." He's still polite, but suspicious now.

"I'm a trainee actually." Robert exerted what authority he'd learned as an officer while nursing a big knot on the head.  "The department has decided to try out potential apprentices informally as part of the interview process before hiring them.  It saves a lot of time and money not to mention the cost of a uniform if the bloke doesn't work out."  He sounded a bit sour; "Personally I'd prefer the old way; at least I'd be getting paid to be hit on the head.  It's all this new fashioned efficiency."

The man nods. "Well, I suppose so. I can't rightly say what's being carried in here, much less if it's dangerous. The bills o' ladin' are in the office," he points to Robert's right, "if'n ye want to ask the manager."

Robert takes a need breath and starts to nod in agreement before wincing in pain.  "I'll go see what the manager has, thank you."  He walks slowly over to Louis and sighs. "That hurt."

Robert looks around, but Louis and the inspector are nowhere in sight.

Robert heads to the office.

The manager's assistant looks up from his desk as Robert steps into the doorway. "How may I help you, sir?"

"I'd like to see your manifests for the items in the crates to determine if you have any hazardous materials if you please."

The man nods. "Certainly, sir, as soon as you can produce credentials that allow you that access."

Just then, another young man appears in the doorway. "Someone just heisted a lady out the back door! Call the constables!"

Robert's explanation is cut short as he hears the word.  He grabbed the young man by the collar, injury forgotten.  "What?  Which direction did they go and who took them?"

"I... I don't know, sir! The lady hit one of them really hard, and they just dragged her outside. I heard a wagon, so I think that was how they left. I ran here for help, so I don't know which way they went." He is too shocked to resist Robert's grip.

Robert growls in frustration.  "They must have attacked me at the same time to distract attention."  He looked to the inspector.  "Call out the police that my wife has been taken."  Looking back at the boy he asked.  "Which direction did they head and describe the wagon." As he spoke Robert was striding rapidly to the entrance from which Louis had been taken.

"It was one of MacLean's freight wagons, but they had horses instead of the Martian critters hooked to it," said the young man. "They took the man who was with her, too. They went that way," he points east.

Robert arrives at the back door, and finds that the wagon is gone. He looks around, and spies a bit of white cloth lying against the building a few feet from the door. There is no sign of the wagon.

"Who took them?  Were they employees of the warehouse?" Robert listens briefly for an answer and then heads over to pick up the piece of cloth.

"No, they were MacLean men," the young man replies. Robert instantly recognizes one of Louis' handkerchiefs; he'd given it to her about a month ago.

He hears footsteps to his right, and looks to see a pair of police officers approaching.

The nearer of the pair, a burly Scot, speaks up. "Who called about a woman being attacked?"

Robert glances around a bit and then straightens up and heads over to the police.  "My wife and the fire inspector Mr. Laurence were abducted by a set of teamsters, Mclean men according to this young man."

"Mr. Laurence I know," the officer says with a frown. "Describe your wife, please." He waves at another officer to join them. "Masters, please begin taking notes and his statement."

Robert glances down the street.  "Louis is quite tall for a woman with long red hair worn loose.  She is in a blouse and tailored trousers.  She's American by birth."  He shook his head impatiently.  "We need to pursue them while the scent is warm.  There is treason and murder in play here." Robert handed the officer their letter of introduction and lowered his voice.  "We are on the business of the Crown in search of gun smugglers."

Masters, the other officer standing with you, writes something on a page in his notebook, and tears it out. He extends it to one of the more junior officers standing nearby. "Take this description, and get it out on the wire, immediately. Kidnapping victim."

"Yes, sir." The officer hurries away at a trot.

The officer quickly reads the letter. "You are the second person to hand me such a letter in the space of an hour." He gives it back. "You're working with an American Secret Service agent, a woman?"

Robert nods to the officer.  "Yes, a miss Claude Remington.  Where did you encounter her if I might ask?"

"She said her name was Maude O'Rourke," the officer said as he produced a calling card from his tunic pocket. He extended it to Robert.

Robert looked at the card.

The ivory colored cardstock is printed with a compact script reading:

"United States Secret Service

M. O'Rourke

Special Agent"

Robert nodded.  "That's her.  Where did you encounter her?"

"She stopped at our station; said she was investigating reports of smuggling." He turns as someone calls his name. "Ah, there she is, now."

Robert turns to see O'Rourke striding purposefully toward him. "Robert, what happened?" She calls as she walks up to him. "Where is Louis?"

Robert shook his head.  "Now, we need to get after the kidnappers."  He turned slightly as O'Rourke approached. "She's been abducted."

"Damn," O'Rourke growls. "You two must have stumbled onto something important, then." She half turns as Bessie Womack appears from behind her. "Louis was kidnapped," she says without preamble.

Womack sighs. "I suppose we should have anticipated something like this. These are dangerous people."

Robert is obviously upset although his emotions are under stern control.  "We were digging into the shipping companies that seemed to be linked with the shipments of weapons.  We didn't find anything that would have warranted note."  He glanced about.  "We should pursue these men as there is no telling what they will do.  And they don't only have Louis but the fire inspector who was with us."

O'Rourke nods. "How did they take her?"

"They dragged her off in a cargo wagon."

Womack looks intently at Robert. "Do y'know which company's it was?"

Robert gritted his teeth in impatience.  "It was MacLean's."

"I know where to look for her, but the police won't be of much use in helping her," Womack said flatly.

"What do you mean?" O'Rourke looked at the shorter woman suspiciously.

"When we spoke to the Martian canal boat people, I noticed several MacLean's wagons around one of the warehouses. I asked one of the younger girls about it, and she said there was a family that dealt with them, and that they were, in her words, 'bad people'."

Robert frowned. "Let's go now and deal with this while the police prepare their paperwork.  Time is of the essence!"

The trio start off toward the canal, leaving the police to their work. They are so engrossed that they don't notice Robert and the ladies leave. Womack leads them to the corner, and they turn toward the canal.

O'Rourke turns to Robert. "I have only my pistol. Do we need to arm ourselves more heavily, first?"

Robert shakes his head quickly.  "We haven't the time to go back for rifles.  I have my own two pistols and that will have to be enough.  Speed will have to be our ally." He looks to Womack.  "Do you have a weapon?"

"She won't allow me one," Womack said as she touched O'Rourke's arm for a moment. The redheaded agent glanced at her, but made no comment as Womack quickly withdrew her hand. "I know I wouldn't allow someone like me to have a gun, either." A light blush tinged her cheeks, and she looked back to Robert. "I will take my chances, Sir. My life is forfeit, in any case."

Robert nods sympathetically to Womack.  "You're a brave woman and I'm glad we have you with us." He turned back to the O'Rourke.  "Let's go then."

A few minutes later, the trio arrives at a warehouse fronting the canal. Four canal boats are tied up at the pier, with stevedores attending to the cargo loading. Robert counts fifteen dock workers, and a half dozen men standing around looking a lot like guards.

OOC: Any onlookers nearby or along the way that we could ask about a wagon headed to the warehouse?  It would be good to track the wagon that contained Louis as we head toward our destination.

Robert notes that there are four MacLean wagons moving about, some drawn by Martian draft creatures, and some by horses.

OOC: Any idea which the wagon carrying Louis was drawn by?

OOG: Robert remembers that they used horses, which are faster than the Martian beasts, but don't pull as much weight.

OOG: with all the activity is there a side or rear to the warehouse that might be less guarded?

The side of the warehouse opposite the dock seems to be quiet.

Robert assesses the situation for a moment and then backs up around the corner.  "Let's go around the alley out of sight and come around to the far side of the warehouse.  We should look for a door or window for entry or maybe a closer vantage point to the activity on the dock."

The women nod in unison, and wait for Robert to lead the way. The alley is empty, and the back door is located in the same place as the other warehouses Robert has visited here. If this warehouse follows suit, there are two large open areas, a dividing wall, and then offices and more open area to the front.

Motioning for the women to keep a watch, Robert moves up to listen at the door and then check it.

Robert hears the sounds of workmen talking, and scraping and thumping of heavy objects being moved. The door is unlocked.

Robert slowly opens the door and peers inside.

There is no one in the room, which is stacked nearly full of crates of all sizes and descriptions. There are passages between the stacks, and Robert hears more of the same working sounds coming from toward the docks.

Motioning the two women to follow him Robert threads his way through the stacks toward the dock.

The trio makes their way to the central wall of the warehouse. There are several workmen busily moving crates about, and none of them pay Robert any mind, although the ladies draw a curious glance.

The interior doors stand open, and Robert looks around them toward the canal. Through the open door, he sees a canal boat leaving to the west - and then he spots a tall redheaded woman at the stern of the vessel. Louis! She surges up onto the sterncastle, and there two burly men snatch her back aboard the craft, and she is dragged forward out of sight.

When he sees Louis he turns to Womack.  "Go!  Get the police.  Have them get an airship and track that vessel headed west."  With that he surges forward to run toward the dock.

Syrtis Major (Monday, April 1, 1889, 12:00pm)

An hour later, Robert and the ladies are standing at the docks near the warehouse where Louis was last seen. The police have searched the canal traffic, but have turned up nothing about Louis.

"They must have moved her to a different boat, or concealed her somehow," O'Rourke says quietly.

"I might have a way to find her," Womack says. "We can speak with the Verinus family; maybe one of them will tell us something useful. We did get a good look at the boat."

Robert is beside himself with anger and worry.  He barely restrains himself as the police investigate but in the end the habit of naval discipline proves strong.  He nods to O'Rourke; "Aye, or disguised the boat.  Enough time has transpired to make this a search for a needle in a haystack.  Right now all the police can do is search outgoing traffic and interrogate the people here in the warehouse to make things a bit more difficult."

He looked at Womack, his eyes brightening. "That's right, the Verinus will have no love for these blackguards.  If the police are done here let's go see if they will help."

Syrtis Major (Monday, April 1, 1889, 1:30pm)

Robert, O'Rourke, and Womack are standing with Verinus' eldest cousin and his family. They were shocked when Verinus and his family were murdered, and they vow to help track their killers, and to help save Louis.

Although there are dozens of canal boats on the water here at any one time, the cousin receives a report of a redheaded woman who was spotted aboard a canal boat headed down the Oenotria Canal, leading to the city of the same name. They are well ahead, and the main canal has several smaller, connecting canals branching from it.

A canal boat is brought up to the dock, crewed by four strapping young Martian lads. They are not trained for combat, but they are experienced boatsmen. The eldest looks to Robert. "We are ready to leave at your command."

Robert nodded and thanked the elders of the Martian clan. "Make sure we have rations and whatever else is needed for a long pursuit."  He looked at Womack. "We are likely to face combat before the end of this.  Can I trust you with a weapon?"

Womack nods, her eyes downcast. "Yes. I want the chance to find my Claude's killers."

Robert looks her in the eyes for a moment and then he reaches into his pocket and hands Bessie a pistol.  "Claude's killers yes and help us wrap up the rest of this coil of vipers where ever it leads."

Womack takes the pistol and stores it in one of the pockets of her shoulder pack. "Thank you."

Robert holds out his hand to shake. "You are welcome.  I can understand your sense of loss."

"Thank you." Womack grasps his hand for a moment, and then retrieves it with an awkward smile.

Robert does not prolong the moment but turns to the Martians.  "We're ready then.  What route do you recommend to track the kidnappers?"

"They go to Oenotria. We must follow." The crew immediately casts off and begin to pole vigorously. "We must hurry to catch them." The canal boat arrows out into the traffic on the canal; the crew keeps a close watch as they handle poles and then oars to move the boat.

Robert can feel how relatively light the boat is - there are only seven people and their supplies aboard, rather than them and four or more tons of cargo. It also occurs to him that this boat is smaller than most of the other boats plying the canal.

Robert watches the operation of the canal boat with a fair bit of professional interest as they move along.  He addresses the crew. "We should make better time than them with a smaller boat and no cargo.  I am a sailor on Earth but not familiar with your craft.  Can I help?"

The senior boatsman nods. "Watch ahead of us; we are making all haste to catch up." The trio works in close concert, propelling the boat ahead with an economy that Robert would not be able to duplicate. He'd seen many crews, but these three young Martians were parts of a machine that pushed their craft onward.

They pass through the canals' nexus, and then they enter the Oenotria Canal proper. There is considerably less traffic headed outbound, and only a few boats approach as they move along. Three bridges pass by, and then the landscape changes as they pass out of the city. Stately Martian buildings give way to reddish tan hills, barren and forbidding in the distance.

The canal is about half full, as this is the season of flow. The water level will gradually decrease as the summer wears on, forcing the canal boats to the deeper channels in the canals. For now, though, the boatsmen take advantage of the shallow water to pole along instead of relying on the slower oars.

A light wind blows across the canal, carrying with it the Martian dust and the scent that many describe as ancientness. It reminds Robert of Thebes in Egypt.

Robert nods in return.  "I will watch and stay clear."  He moved to the bow and laid his rifle wedged securely on the deck out of sight but ready for use.  "Have your weapons ready but out of sight he called to the human women.  Watch behind and to the sides in case they have an ambush for pursuers."  Robert pulled his telescope to his eye and scanned ahead eagerly every few minutes.  The open air and the sandy hint in the air stirred his blood with the memory of exotic places and adventure.

O'Rourke and Womack take up positions on each side of the boat. The Secret Service agent has her Winchester repeater next to her, and the ex-smuggler has Robert's borrowed Webley.

When darkness falls on Mars, it is total and absolute. Bereft of a moon, the night sky is hazy with dust, and speckled with the brighter stars that manage to shine through. Navigation is nearly impossible in the gloom, so the boatmen ease them to one side of the canal and drop anchor about twenty yards from shore.

There is food to prepare, and a place for everyone to sleep.

Robert is obviously distraught by the failure to catch up to Louis's captors but he does his best to maintain a steady outward appearance.  He takes the first watch while the others eat, only taking a bit of food when everyone else is fed and settled.  "I'll get the first watch.  I have some thinking to do anyway."

The food is warm, thanks to a curious little stove that uses a flammable brick of material that gives off little light or smoke.

The ladies settle down to rest, and Robert sits on the main hatch cover to eat and watch. He sees and hears nothing except for the wind during his watch period.

Robert stays wide awake through anger and concern for Louis.  When the time comes to finish his watch he nudges O'Rourke awake.

The ladies have laid their pallets just aft of the cargo hatch, where they have some shelter against the wind. As Robert approaches, he sees O'Rourke asleep on her right side, and Womack curled up at her back, not quite touching her. Womack stirs when Robert steps close, and she rolls away from O'Rourke.

The agent awakens and nods to Robert. She pulls on her boots, picks up her rifle, and goes to stand watch.

Robert returns the nod and quietly explains the situation.  As O'Rourke leaves he settles in her spot and lies down to sleep as best he can.

Morning arrives with the blood red sun climbing over the horizon to the east. The boatmen start off again as soon as the morning light permits. Bessie Womack rises and prepares a light breakfast of tinned biscuits, jam, and tea. The air is chilly, but the wind has died down during the night.

Robert speaks to the elder of the boat men.  "How far ahead of us do you figure them to be?  Is there a likely destination that they seek?"

"They are likely an hour ahead," the Martian replies. "We are smaller and faster, and they cannot travel at night any more than we can."

The boatmen bend to the task of propelling their craft forward, setting a pace that Robert has seen only with trained crews in rowing sculls. The morning passes into noontime, and the crew takes turns eating some sort of cake as they labor. The ladies set a makeshift table on a crate; sandwiches with sliced cured beef and cheese, and water to drink.

Late in the afternoon, the elder crewman points ahead. "There they are!" The craft is two hundred yards ahead, moving down the center of the canal channel. The craft is nearly twice the size of Robert's, and he sees at least four men on the deck. Even though they have a sail set, they are about two to three knots slower.

Robert peered ahead for a moment as if shear willpower could resolve the kidnappers.  He perches on a high point on the raft and unships his telescope to watch for the boat ahead of them.

When the enemy come in view he readies his weapons.  "Do you have anything we could rig as barriers of some sort to protect against gunfire?"

"I think we should avoid gunplay," O'Rourke says. "These wooden boats will not stop a rifle round, and Louis is over there somewhere."

Robert sees that the crew is going about their duties, although one of the men is looking aft at them with more than passing interest. There are no other boats on the canal here, so they will surely draw at least some notice as they close the distance.

Robert nods to O'Rourke and moved to take shelter.  "Let's get the three of us out of sight.  If they see humans overtaking them in a boat they'll be suspicious.  With luck we can approach within hailing distance by posing as an express boat."

The only place to be out of sight is behind the low cabin in the center of the boat. Robert and the ladies have to sit with their backs against the wall.

"You aren't considering trying to board them now, are you?" O'Rourke says with concern plain in her manner. "They could kill Louis long before we could get to her."

Robert frowns; "Do you think it would be wiser to follow them where they land and try to rescue her then?"

"I think it would be wise to pass them by, and then see where they go," O'Rourke replies. "Few people think that someone in front of them is actually following them."

Robert laughs.  "I am so put out here so far from the sea.  I like that idea.  We can hide here on deck covered by the cabin."

Robert and Maude O'Rourke tell Bessie Womack and the Martians of their plan, and they quickly agree to it. The swifter boat passes the larger one, and settles in a hundred yards ahead. The humans move around so as to not be visible as the ships pass.

There is no sign of Louis, but Robert spies two men still wearing MacLean livery moving around on the deck.

The slow-motion chase continues until late afternoon, when their quarry moves close to the edge of the channel and sets anchor, apparently intending to pass the night there. Robert's boat does the same, having slowed their pace to stay a hundred yards ahead of the other boat.

O'Rourke approaches Robert. "We can either keep following them, or attempt a rescue tonight."

Robert stretches a bit after being cramped in the boat.  He frowns as he thinks over Maude's suggestion.  "I'm eager to rescue Louis.  There is too much risk to her life to leave her in their hands even though it would be desirable to follow them to their destination."

The agent nods. "I have no insight into the best course of action. If we move on them now, though, we will face the entire compliment of that boat, and we will have no way to reach Louis if someone decides to harm her."

"If we can actually see her before we attack, that would be much better," Womack puts in.

Robert frowned.  "How many did you count in the boat?"

Robert and the ladies confer, and they conclude that they've seen six men aboard the boat. No one has seen Louis, though.

Robert muses; "Six against our three...  I don't like those odds even with surprise."

"So, we dare not attack them. What are our other choices?" O'Rourke asks, thinking out loud.

"Let's approach silently under cover of darkness and see what we can see or hear."

"We can do that," O'Rourke replies. "How do we get over there? This boat is too big, right?"

"We'll have to swim I think."

The ladies look startled. "We don't have clothes for that," Womack says with wide eyes.

Robert stifles a laugh.  "I'll make the swim myself ladies.  You can look away while I disrobe down to my small clothes."

Syrtis Major (Tuesday, April 2, 1889, 9:30pm)

The Martian crew and their passengers partake of their evening meal as darkness settles over the canal. The two boats are anchored about a hundred yards apart, and the boatmen report that the canal is between three and six feet deep at this side. They also caution that the bottom could be littered with debris, so Robert should be careful about standing in his bare feet.

As with the previous night, the wind rises to what Robert would call a fresh breeze, stirring up more ochre dust, and obscuring the night sky.

Robert stripped to his small clothes but kept his boots on.  He brought a knife and a pistol wrapped in oil cloth just in case it was needed.  "Are there any creatures in the water that I need to worry about?"

"Just watch for the kokos," the elder Martian says. "I've only seen small ones, though. I don't think there are cissawaans in this part of the canal." He shrugs. "Just be wary."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:57, Sun 20 Aug 2017.

"Kokos?"  Robert looks a bit uncertain.

The Martian makes a writhing motion with his arm, and closes his fingers like a mouth. "Kokos. They wind around and crush, then eat."

Robert shivers a bit. "I'll be careful.  The noise of the wind should disguise any small splashes or ripples.  I'll approach from downwind to make it easier for me to hear them and harder for the reverse."  He slipped into the water and made his way slowly with just part of his head above water.

The water is cold, but Robert is an experienced swimmer. It takes him all of fifteen minutes to swim the hundred or so yards to the moored craft. As is their custom, the canal boats have lanterns at bow and stern to prevent collisions in the dark. This makes it easy for Robert to navigate, though his own boat is barely visible in the dusty night air.

He pulls up ten yards or so from the canal boat. He hears snatches of a conversation, but he can't make anything out over the wind and water.

Robert looks for the figure of a guard or watchmen on the deck as he listens.  He also tries to make out the difference between Martians and humans in the conversation.

The lanterns' glow show that no one is actively looking over the waist-high bulwarks. He sees another faint glow from amidships, though.

Robert moves toward the darker area amidships.

He is able to make it to the ship's side without incident. The vessel is typical of Martian design and manufacture - tightly fitted wood joints caulked with something other than the creosoted rope Robert was familiar with.

The boat's rail was four feet above the water, giving her a freeboard of about two feet. These boats usually drew only two to three feet of water, so the water was probably not much deeper than that here.

From the ship's side, Robert could hear snatches of conversation:

"...damn stuffy German..."

"...what about the woman..."

"...drop her in the desert..."

"...could identify us..."

"...no one out here but the Martians..."

Robert listened for a long moment, barely restraining the urge to swarm aboard regardless of the danger to himself and Louis.  He looked up at the structure of the ship to see if there was a scuttle or deckhouse to use as cover to take a look above.

There are gated openings in the bulwars where cargo and people can pass through. They are all closed at the moment.

No drains?

There are none that Robert can see. It doesn't rain on Mars, and the canals don't have waves higher than a foot even in the worst winds.

Drat...

Continue to listen then for a while, maybe 10 minutes or so.

"...in the morning..."

"...get some sleep..."

Nothing else.

Robert moved back to the boat and climbed aboard.  "They definitely have Louis."

"We cannot simply pull alongside and ask them to give her back," Womack says.

O'Rourke nods. "That course of action would likely result in harm to Louis."

Robert shook his head, angry.  "They spoke of dumping her out in the desert."

"do do that, they would need to reach the canal bank," O'Rourke says as she thinks. "They can't do that from the main canal, since the banks are at least ten feet tall, and the water doesn't even reach them right now."

"They would need either a dock, or a side canal," Womack says. "Maybe we can ask where the next one is."

Robert took a deep breath and calmed down.  It was a different feeling for him to be so concerned about one individual after an active life spent on his own in the navy.  "We might be able to get ahead of them and lay in wait.  If they do pull aside we can either ambush them or rescue Louis when they leave her behind."

A brief consultation with the boatmen reveals that there is a side canal with a dock a half days' travel ahead. The site served a mining camp that has been abandoned for several years.

Robert considered for a moment and then decided.  "Let's get ahead of them and lay in wait there.  Can we conceal the boat or will it need to continue ahead to stay out of sight?"

The boatmen confer for a moment. "We would have to continue; there is no place to hide ourselves here."

"Continue on then, far enough to hear our pistol shot but out of sight.  If there is no sign of struggle and the boat passes you then come back and fetch us."

The boatmen agree and return to their duties. "I will stay with the boat," Womack says quietly. "I'm not much for sneaking about in the desert, but I can ensure that we will return for you."

O'Rourke nods in agreement.

Robert nods thankfully to Womack.  "Then let's lay on and get it done."

Syrtis Major (Wednesday, April 3, 1889, 11:30am)

The night passes without incident, and the boatmen get you all underway at first light. It is nearly noon by the time you reach the smaller canal's entrance. The boatmen put in close to the bank, which is low enough to climb up from the canal boat's deck.

"There will be not much time," the eldest cautions. "They will be able to see us very soon."

Robert takes food and water as well as his pack.  He grabs rifle and pistols and helps O'Rourke up the bank.  "Move on and wait for our signal and thank you."

The boat moves away, the crew straining to put them back in the middle of the canal and back on course.

O'Rourke and Robert clamber up the bank, finding that the canal here is bounded by a low levee that stands four feet above the land level. The levee is about ten feet wide at the top, and twenty feet wide at the base.

The landscape here is barren and desolate, with outcroppings of rock jutting up from the ocher sands of the Martian desert. A breeze stirs up dust at Robert's feet.

Robert looks for cover to allow them to watch any approaching boat and handle an attempt to take Louis off the boat.

The levee is about chest high, so it offers good cover and concealment from the canal. As he looks up the side canal, Robert spots a group of what looks to be posts standing on the levee about two hundred yards away.

Robert does a quick sweep down the canal and then over at the posts with his pocket telescope.

The larger canal boat comes into view as it rounds a bend in the canal about two hundred yards away.

The posts are arranged in a rectangular pattern, but that's all Robert can see.

Robert ducks into cover and readies his rifle.  He motions the women to get ready as well.

O'Rourke ducks down at his signal, her Winchester repeater in her hands. "What do we do when they arrive?"

"Watch and wait.  We intervene if and when Louis is in danger."

The canal boat makes its way to the side canal entrance and turns into it. They pass by Robert and O'Rourke, who are well hidden on the other side of the levee. The wind is up enough to mask any conversations, but they can hear the thump of the boatmen's poles against the bulkwarks as they push the boat along.

The boat continues up the canal, approaching the area with the poles.

Robert motions to the women to crouch and hurries along behind the levee toward the posts.

Robert and O'Rourke approach to within 50 yards of the poles, which they now see is a rickety dock jutting a few feet out into the canal, with a set of wooden steps leading to the top of the levee. Why the dock is here is a mystery, since there is nothing man-made, or Martian-made, about.

The canal boat comes alongside the dock, and two crewmen clamber out to secure mooring lines fore and aft.

Robert scurries forward to the nearest cover, using the height of the levee as well to keep him out of easy sight.

Robert and O'Rourke work their way forward until they are about fifty yards from the dock. They are both belly down behind small, rocky outcroppings. The Martian dust is fine, pervasive and smells positively ancient, reminding Robert of the tombs he'd visited in Egypt.

They have barely settled in when a knot of figures starts up the steps. There are two men - and Louis is leading the way. She is hatless, and her hands are bound behind her.

Robert growls and makes sure the Mauser is loaded. "Take the near one when it comes to it.  Fire at my word."

"Right," O'Rourke says in a low voice. She levels her Winchester, and waits for Robert's order.

Louis steps up onto the levee, followed by the two men. The one nearest to her shoves her hard in the back, sending her tumbling down the slope. The other man laughs and raises his rifle to his shoulder...
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:30, Sun 03 Sept 2017.

"Now," followed immediately by the crack of the Mauser.  He glances down the sights to see if another shot is required.  "Bessie, up along the canal bank to cover the Martians!"

OOG: Assuming this is for O'Rourke...

IG: The American's rifle cracks an instant after Robert's shot, and both men stagger and fall as the heavy bullets plow through their torsos. O'Rouke leaps to her feet and races up to fall prone at the lip of the levee. "Go, Robert!" she calls.

Louis rolls up onto her knees, her lower face bloody. She twists around to look in Robert's direction.

On the canal boat, Bessie hears two rifle reports in quick succession.

Knowing that her boat would provide almost no cover in a situation such as this, Bessie can do nothing but wait at this point.  "Come on...let's have that signal...", she murmurs to herself, as she checks her Webley yet another time.

Robert gets to his feet and dashes toward Louis.  He glances ahead to make sure he isn't exposed to the boat pulled up to the little dock.

Knowing that her boat would provide almost no cover in a situation such as this, Bessie can do nothing but wait at this point.  "Come on...let's have that signal...", she murmurs to herself, as she checks her Webley yet another time.

The weapon is fully loaded with six rounds.

"Mister Robert and the lady will be okay," the lead boatman says with confidence. The two younger Martians nod in agreement. "They are honorable - for humans."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:13, Mon 04 Sept 2017.

Louis turns her head as Robert rushes up to her. "Robert?" Twin streams of blood trickle from her nostrils, and her right eye is encircled with a black bruise. Her blouse is ripped at her right shoulder, and one pant leg is torn open at the knee. She is covered in Martian dust and small bits of gravel from her tumble down the levee.

Behind him, O'Rourke's Winchester cracks twice more.

The tall American looks out into the middle distance and lets out a little sigh, her hand reaching up towards the precious locket hidden beneath her shirt without her consciously realizing it.  "Yes, they certainly are...", the former criminal says, with her voice trailing off a bit uncomfortably at the end.

Robert meet's Louis' eyes for a moment, a look of relief in his own eyes.  "Yes, we're here for you."  Hearing the crack of the rifle he swings the Mauser around to deal with the Martians in the boat.

"There are, or were, eight men aboard," Louis says loudly enough for O'Rourke to hear. The agent ducks as a fusillade of gunfire cuts across the top of the levee; the bullets kick up puffs of dust as they strike the ground and whiz over their heads.

Bessie hears at least a dozen shots from her vantage point.

"Make that five," O'Rourke calls back. "I hit one."

Robert stops to untie Louis and give her a quick but passionate kiss.  He hands her the Mauser and a pistol along with a small bag of ammunition.  "Let's see about making that none or get them to surrender."  He pulls his own pair of pistols out.  "We can spread out along the levee and then Bessie and our boat should be coming along behind them soon."

Louis returns the kiss with interest, and her eyes glitter as she takes the Mauser. "It's not my Sharps, but they will be just as dead when I hit them." She pushes a clip of ammo into the rifle and closes the bolt, pocketing the remaining rounds in the clip.

O'Rourke slides to the bottom of the levee and runs back toward the canal entrance, crouching to avoid being seen.

Louis pokes her head up, and ducks back down with a squeak as a gunshot sounds. "This reminds me of a turkey shoot," she says. "They will blow our heads off if we try to shoot at them."

Robert checks his ammunition.  "I'll head over a bit to distract them with blind fire with the pistol.  That should give you at least one clean shot darling."  is eyes glitter as well with pride and passion for his bride.

He moves a dozen or so yards to the right and fires his gun blindly over the crest of the levee while waving his hat.

"Thank you, Robert." Louis smiles at him, and then crawls up the slope to a firing position.

Robert waves his hat and fires two rounds from his Webley. Three shots come back in his direction, and then the ladies' rifles bark in unison.

Dense silence follows, and Louis risks a quick look. "Robert, I think they're giving up!"

Robert takes a quick look and calls out.  "This is Commander Robert Darlington of the Royal Navy Surrender and we'll spare your lives. Throw down your weapons."

"We give up!" A voice called in an American accent. "Don't shoot."

"I have you covered," O'Rourke calls out. "Drop those guns." The agent kneels at the back edge of the levee, so she can drop back down into cover.

Louis moves up enough to sight her Mauser on the boat. "I see four men, and two bodies," she says a moment later. "That squares with the eight men I counted, but there could be more of them."

Robert walks quickly to the dock, his pistol drawn and cocked.  "Everyone on your knees.  Is this all of you?  Whose in charge?"

The boat is about twenty yards from the dock, drifting slowly toward the main canal. "He was," one of the men says, pointing to another man lying face down in a spreading pool of blood. "Damn woman shot him."

Bessie notes that the firing has stopped.

Bessie decides to get going, hoping that the medical knowledge that she'd gleaned from her father during her formative years won't be needed.  "Let's go," she says to the Martian at the ferry's helm, "Towards the gunfire in all *haste*, if you please!"

The young Martians comply, moving the small boat quickly toward the side canal's mouth. They round the corner, and see the larger canal boat. Four men stand on the deck with their hands in the air. Maude O'Rourke is standing atop the levee to Bessie's right, rifle in hand.

Further down the levee, there is a rickety wooden dock jutting out from the bank. Louis and Robert are standing atop the levee near the dock, also with guns in hand.

Robert sees their canal boat come into view and begin to ply their way toward the other canal boat. Bessie is standing on the deck with Robert's pistol.

Robert glances up and waves at the approaching boat and returns to their prisoners.  "Louis could you please search the boat while I deal with these gentlemen." He frowns.  "Your ex-prisoner was my wife and I don't appreciate that you kidnapped her and were taking her out into the desert for nothing good.  I expect complete cooperation from you if you wish to remain out of a set of shallow graves in the sand."  Robert looks each in the eye.  "Now, may I expect your cordial cooperation?"

The three men. still aboard the boat and about thirty yards from Robert, nos as one. "No trouble, mister."

The other canal boat continues up toward the larger one, finally pulling along the larger boat's left side. One of the Martians secures a line between the boats, bringing them both to a halt.

Robert strides swiftly to the larger boat and kicks the weapons out of easy reach.  As their boat comes alongside he waves to Bessie.  "Come aboard and cover them closely while I secure their hands."

It takes a few moments for the Martians to push the larger canal boat back to the dock. Robert climbs aboard, followed by Louis and O'Rourke. The secret service agent steps over to begin searching the men while ignoring their protests. She finds four knives and two pocket pistols, and sets them on a convenient barrel head.

Robert turns to the captives.  "Now, what is this all about.  Start from the beginning if you would gentlemen."

"They," the man points at the bodies on the bank, "hired us to take them up this canal." The other two nod in agreement. "We didn't know they were taking the lady out here to drop her off or anything. They did say something about people trying to attack us, and that we should be ready."

The ex-smuggler waves back and helps the Martians to secure their craft, looking visibly relieved that none of her companions appear to be severely injured.

Bessie gives the prisoners a dark frown, and her voice sounds both tightly controlled and clearly ominous. "Could you please tell us who decided to rough the lady up?"

"That one," Louis answers, pointing to the two bodies on top of the levee. "He shan't be doing it again." She steps up beside Robert and smiles crookedly at Bessie. "I tried to jump overboard, and the late gentleman took offense." She smiles at Bessie. "I could use to clean my face. I mashed my nose when they pushed me down the hill."

"We didn't do nothin'," the youngest man said. "We were paid to take them up the canal, and to keep our mouths shut about it."

The American woman slowly nods in approval, clearly glad to know that there'll be one less woman-beater on Mars.


Bessie reaches down to grab her black doctor's bag, and gives her patient a reassuring smile in return as she walks over to her side.  "I'll see to it, Louis...and perhaps give you something to ease the pain a bit too."  A wan ghost of her former frown returns for a moment as she begins to work on the remnants of the nosebleed, carefully keeping Louis' line of fire to the prisoners clear as she does so.  "Your black eye will take a week or two to fade away completely, I'm afraid..."

Louis stands stoically, her rifle cradled in her arms, as Bessie cleans her up with a gauze pad and a bottle of distilled water from the kit. Her nose is red and sensitive to the touch, but it doesn't appear to be broken. Once some of the dust is wiped away, Bessie sees that Louis' cheek is superficially scraped below her blackened eye.

Robert listens to the story spun by the prisoners.  "Do you know who those two work for?  Where were you headed?"  He turns to Louis, a look of relief on his face as Bessie treats her nose.  "Louis, did those two let any information go about where they were headed or who they worked for?"

Louis shook her head. "No, they just said they were going to take me for a little walk, and that my nosy husband had caused them to take me."

"They just told us to bring them out here," the young man repeated. "This is our boat."

Robert nods to Louis and smiles tightly.  "Nosey husband..."  He turns to the prisoners.  "So you were waiting at the docks and happened to get a job to help kidnap a lady.  You know that kidnapping is hard labor at best in front of a magistrate?"  Robert paused.  "What do you know about these two who hired you?"

The three men stare at Robert, a trio of apprehension and fear. "We didn't know why they wanted the lady. They said she was a little crazy, and she'd say all kinds of things."

"Very funny," Louis shoots back at O'Rourke when the agent smirks at her.

Bessie lets out a brief and cheerless chuckle as she looks at the frightened prisoners.  "If the lady in question is 'a little crazy', then I'm the god-forsaken Angel Maker herself!  She locks eyes with them then, almost as if she were disciplining a gaggle of rowdy students.  "Take it from one who *definitely* knows, boys.  Resorting to a criminal's life simply isn't *worth* it, in the end."

--
Bob K.

Robert isn't amused.  "Who did these men work for?  Were they English or American?  What did they have to say of the Martian tribes or Germans?"

O'Rourke steps off the boat and begins to search the dead men's pockets.

"They just talked about the upcoming troubles with the Martians. Told us to not be here in three months, just clear out."

The former criminal looks at Robert and Louis for a moment, her voice sounding more than a bit worried.  "I definitely don't like the sound of *that*."

Robert glanced at Louis.  "Can  you search the boat dear while I deal with these blackguards?"  He turned back to the three, frowning.  "And where were you headed, did they say?"

"They only told us we would be close to Oenotria territory. We wouldn't take them too far in, though. It's not safe there," the man glances at the Martians, "if you're not a Martian."

Louis steps around the men and disappears down the open hatchway into the hold.

"You'll not have to travel that far either."  He turned to O'Rourke; "Did you find anything on them? They are our particular link to the organization at the moment."

O'Rourke straightens and turns around. "They don't have any sort of papers, but I found a matchbook cover, and what looks to be a map. They're also carrying a fair bit of money. German marks."

"German marks, why am I not surprised.  What does the map show?  And a match book cover?"

The American woman frowns noticeably at the mention of that particular currency, but otherwise listens patiently to hear what O'Rourke has to say.

O'Rourke hands both items over, and raises a rifle to show. "This is a brand new 73 Winchester, just like in the shipment."

"I have a dozen more down here," Louis says, popping up from the hold. "There are also supplies of food, clothing, and medicines there."

The map is crudely drawn in pencil, but it appears to show the canal, with three side canals and an X drawn near the third side canal.

Bessie stares right at the prisoners, giving them a threatening grin that in *no* way implies humor.  Her tone of voice is deceptively lighthearted.  "Well, well, well!  Who are *those* for, I wonder?"  Her eyes narrow then, making her angry grin all the more disturbing.  "Care to *enlighten* us, boys?"

Robert looks at the map and the rifle.  "They're definitely traitors.  It's too bad they were shot and killed as they deserved to be hanged."  He sounds angry.  "The medicines and supplies can go to our Martian friends as some compensation for the losses of their family."

He bends over the map further.  "I'm not familiar with the canals here and we did not bring a good map.  We'll need some help."  Robert calls over the Martians to look at the map to see if they know where it might represent.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:42, Wed 20 Sept 2017.

"The third canal is in Oenotrian territory; very dangerous for humans now," the eldest Martian explains. "It is another four days' travel to arrive there."

The prisoners fall silent. They look about nervously, obviously awaiting some word as to their fate.

Louis climbs out of the hold. "They also have some trade goods, such as fabric and lumber," she reports.

The ex-smuggler thinks for a moment before suggesting, "I think we should let 'em go, but seize all of their cargo, as a lesson to them that they're in the *wrong* business." She gives the worried men one last glare.  "You're gonna have to explain your failure to deliver the goods to your customers without anybody to back up your story, but I think that just *running* would be a more survivable option for you in this case."

Robert considers the prisoners.  "So what do you know about these rifles in your cargo?  Don't you know what the hostile tribes will use them for?  You'd be as good as dead with the rest of us and our Martian allies."

The three men hang their heads. "We didn't really know what they were carrying," the middle one says. "We know about the troubles in Oenotria, but we didn't know that they were makin' it worse."

The youngest, a man of barely twenty years, looks at Bessie. "What are you going to do to us, Miss?"

The redhead sighs, her anger draining away under the frightened gaze of the very young man.  "Despite my suggestions, I'm not really the person in charge in this case. So um..."

Her voice trails off uneasily as she looks over at Robert and his wife, clearly deferring to their better judgement.

--
Bob K.

Robert looks at the three men for a long moment.  After a bit he nodded slightly.  "You've fallen in with bad company and are lucky not to pay with your lives.  You'll walk back but you'll go back alive."

"It's thirty miles back to town," the youngest man sputters.

"Oh, pipe down," the oldest man says sharply. "We can make that in two days, and I'd rather be footsore and alive, than rested and dead."

"Are you going to give us water, at least?" The third man regards Robert calmly, as if accepting of his fate.

Robert nods as the older man interjects some reason.  "I don't want you back in town right away spreading word to the wrong people so walking solves one problem."  He nodded to the older man; "And it solves the problem without having to make the solution final.  I'll let you take all the food and water you can carry.  The walk will be good for you and give you time to think about just who you work for in the future.  And I'd keep quiet if I were you as the friends of these fellows may come after you even if I don't."

"But..." the youngest one starts.

"Quiet!" The older man barks. He looks at Robert. "That's better than we deserve. We will do as you say."

Bessie gives Robert a brief, approving nod before turning to look at the former prisoners one last time.  "I recommend you stay out of trouble from now on boys...since the next person you'd cross would probably be a lot less merciful."

Ten minutes later, the trio has food and water, carried in sacks slung over their shoulders. They trudge off their canal boat, and start across the Martian wasteland back toward Syrtis Major.

"What about these?" O'Rourke points to the dead man on the deck, and then at the corpses on the levee. "I suppose we should at least build a cairn for them."

The American looks at the bodies and lets out a barely perceptible sigh.  "Yes.  As wicked as they might have been, they are still children of God, after all..."

Robert meets the eyes of the older man and nods.  There is a flash of understanding and even sympathy despite his anger at their collusion in the kidnapping of his wife.  "Before you go you'll need to do one last task.  Gather stones and cover the two dead.  I'll not leave even enemies exposed to the elements.  We owe them that respect."

The men do as Robert bids - after O'Rourke searches the bodies once again. An hour passes, and the men depart.

Louis steps up to Robert, drapes her arms around his neck, and kisses him thoroughly. She pulls back, her eyes meeting his. "Thank you for rescuing me."

O'Rourke grins and looks at Bessie. "We helped; don't we get a kiss?"

Louis takes a breath, and then shakes her head. Robert can tell she was about to say something, and then thought better of it.

(Bessie can't see Louis' face, so she didn't see that last bit. O'Rourke is looking at Bessie, so she missed it, too.)

"All right."  The redhead's pale cheeks seem to color just a little as she adds with just a touch of awkwardness, "Um...I suppose there's no harm in that."
She then gives the sharpshooter a little and rather chaste kiss on her cheek.  "Thank you for helping out..."

Maude's cheeks color as the smaller girl kisses her. "Uh, you're welcome." The corners of her mouth quirk in a furtive smile, and she glances sidelong at Bessie.

"If you two are done," Louis says with a gentle smile, "perhaps we can see about this boat." She looks at Robert. "I suppose we could go back with it as a prize."

Robert returned the hug and kiss with a desperate strength that bruises. "I'm so glad you are safe and back with me," he speaks softly as their eyes meet.  "I'm not sure what..." Robert leaves the last unsaid as he keeps a stiff upper lip.  He notes the slight interplay but thinks little of it, his attention being on his wife.

Taking a deep breath he squeezes Louis' hand before pulling slightly away.  "Let's get the boat in tow and take it back.  The rifles will be evidence for sure."  After a moment he chuckles.  "And a prize for certain by maritime tradition."

"Thank you, my love," Louis replies as she senses what her husband hasn't said. "I am well, due in no small part to you."

"Well," O'Rourke says after a moment. "We have much to do." She looks around at both boats. "We have two boats, and one crew. That is a conundrum."

Bessie smiles just a bit before clearing her throat noisily.  "Um, yes...that sounds fine..."

Robert finally looks away from his wife with a last squeeze of her hands.  "We'll tow it back.  It will be slow but I can work as well to help move us along."  He calls the Martians over and asks them about towing their prize back to the city.

The crew confers in their own language, which Robert catches enough of to understand that they believe poling the larger boat while towing the smaller one is the best course of action.

"We think to use this boat to tow ours," the eldest Martian says. "We need someone to steer our boat, though."

Robert nods; "I'll steer the smaller boat.  I have some skill in that at least.  And everyone should arm with one of the rifles while we have them available."

"I'll go with you," Louis says.

Robert takes Louis' hand again his eyes say all that is necessary.

The crew sets about readying both vessels for the return trip by rigging a stout hawser between them. "We do not need to move our supplies," the eldest explained. "When we stop for the night, we will bring the boats back together."

"I will stay aboard this boat," O'Rourke says. "The rifles are evidence, and I'd like to look at our late friends' possessions and papers more closely."

"Louis, can you see that everyone is armed with a rifle and ammunition before we go?  I will help with the boats."  Robert lent a hand with the rigging of tow ropes and familiarized himself a bit more with the steering oar on the smaller boat.

With that, the ex-criminal turns her gaze away somewhat shyly from Maude for now, and helps Robert and Louis with their preparations to travel.

"Yes, of course," Louis says, setting about her task. She checks that each person has the correct ammunition for their own weapon.

She steps up to Bessie. "Can you shoot a rifle?" The tall woman has one of the new Winchester repeaters in her hands, along with a box of cartridges.

Once things are ready Robert will prepare to shove off.

Realizing the degree of trust that Louis' actions imply, Bessie gives her a little smile. "Well, I'm much better with a pistol, but I'm willing to give it a try."

"Trust me, you point it and fire it, and the bad guys will keep their heads down," Louis says with a chuckle.

It takes another half hour to arrange the boats so the larger one is headed back toward the main canal, with the smaller boat in trail.

At Robert's command, the boats start off. They make the turn back to Sirtis Major, and ply their way down the main canal.

As the move down the canal Robert stays focused on steering the boat at least as first as he was unfamiliar with the craft. "I think we've made the right decision about Bessie.  I'm sorry that she lost her lover but activity and a sense of purpose is what is best for her.  I know I would be heartbroken if anything happened to you.  In all my service I've never felt so worried than when you were taken Louis."

Louis steps over and puts her arm around his waist. "I was afraid that they would harm you when you came for me. They told me only that I would be dropped off out here to get us out of their way for a while. Apparently, they had other plans." She leans in and kisses him.

"It looks like Bessie and Maude are getting along." Louis points out where the pair are sitting close together aboard the larger boat.

Aboard the large canal boat, Maude and Bessie are sitting on folding chairs near the stern. "I don't understand why they would kidnap Louis," O'Rourke says. "They would have to know that Robert would stop at nothing to find her. Worse, they tried to kill her. That would have infuriated the government and the military."

Robert puts his own arm around Louis' shoulder, tucking her in under his arm as he snuggled her close.  "We must have been getting close for them to attempt something so blatant as a kidnapping.  The Crown won't stand for that sort of thing and the Navy certainly not."  He returned her kiss, letting the contact linger.  "I'm sorry those two that took you died so cleanly.  I would have wanted to know more of their plans.  Even so now we have more leads into their operations in town.  I just hope we are ahead enough to prevent a devastating war.  If the Martians rise with genocidal fury the governments of Earth will respond and there will be death and suffering all over the planet."

He smiled at the two women sitting in the other boat.  "I'm glad to see those two happy.  They are both brave women."

Despite the favorable conclusion of the conflict, Bessie looks uneasy as she replies, "I hope it wasn't just used as a nasty means to draw us all away from Syrtis Major for some reason.  We *are* about two days out from there at the moment..."

Louis nods. "I am glad that you and Maude shot them before they could shoot me." She glances at Robert. "You would approve if they became more than friends?"

Maude chews her lip as she thinks. "Yes, you're right. What better way to rid themselves of us? A child could devise that course of action, and we fell right into it. Of course, we had no choice in the matter. Robert would have come on his own, if it had become necessary. Love is like that." She takes a sharp breath and looks at Bessie. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

The ex-smuggler manages to give her a wan, sad smile.  "No offense taken, Maude...to be honest, I'm very happy and grateful to have experienced love at *all* in my life, despite it ending so..."  Her voice catches, and she looks away for just a moment as she tries to rein in her remembered grief.  "...so badly."  Feeling her eyes welling up for what seemed to be the thousandth time, Bessie fumbles for a handkerchief in one of her pockets.

Maude extracts a handkerchief from her vest pocket and presses it into Bessie's hand. After a moment, she speaks quietly. "My friends call me Em."

Robert chuckled a bit, able to laugh now that the immediate and deadly threat was addressed.  "I'm glad we shot them out of hand as well.  The first, the only priority was seeing to your life." At this he squeezed her tightly.

He looked over at the two women talking quietly and shrugged.  "It's not something I'm familiar with and there are those that disapprove of such things in man or woman."  Robert paused; "They are both good women and deserve happiness.  If they were to fall together then I'd not object.  No... more than that... I would be happy for them."

Louis smiles and leans against Robert. "I am a lucky woman, Robert Darlington. Who knew, when we were aboard that ship, that you were the one for me? You are truly a gentle man," she spaced the words out, "but you are also a man of action."

Robert kept Louis tucked in under his arm, her warm and soft body pressed against his hard form.  "And I am proud and fortunate to have you by my side and bearing my name Louis Darlington.  It was desperation and more than a bit of divine madness that brought us together in that wreck.  Your courage, determination and intelligence as we made our way through the Martian desert and all its hazards were what made me decide that I could not live my life without you."

It takes the former criminal several seconds to get her grief back under control, but she manages to smile just as little at Maude as soon as she does.  "Thank you Em.  You can call me Bess if you like..."

Syrtis Major - Oenotria Canal (Wednesday, April 3, 1889, 7:00pm)

The rest of the afternoon passes without incident, and they do not meet any other boats.

When nightfall comes, the boatmen ease over to the right side of the canal, and anchor in the shallow waters at the edge of the central channel. There are about fifteen minutes of light remaining before the stygian Martian darkness descends on the canal.

Brent climbs up on the canal bank and looks around with his telescope being careful not to silhouette himself.

The canal bank is about twenty yards away through waist-deep water. However the canal channel does reach the bank at a spot a hundred yards past their anchorage. He could use the smaller canal boat to reach that spot. The bank is steep, but a man could scramble up it on all fours.

Robert will wade through the water to the bank.