The Chase of the Saltire: An Adventure in Multiple Parts

[Rob Wright]

Me thinks that Grant is still upset over taking Jock's place in the hospital during the operation to secure Jock's freedom

As to the number of sides, we are only up to five at the moment

Sit back gents, pour yourselves a drink and enjoy the rest of the ride.

Rob

[Livingston]

Yes, "us"! I am sure that we all are collectively concerned about me leaving a good looking corpse.

[Rob Wright]

It is finals week right now but I will finish the tale when I have finished my tests.

Rob

[Rob Wright]

VII

Jock and Stefania stood on the bank, their poles in hand, staring up at the commotion taking place in the windy sky. Across the from them stood Steede and Peele, glasses and bird guides in hand.

“This is not good,” Jock said as he began to pack up the fishing gear. “This is definitely not part of the plan.”

Stefania gathered her skirts in her hand as she hurried off towards the steamer with Jock keeping pace behind her. “We must hurry!” she called out her Italian accent coming to the for when she was excited.

“Yes, yes, all in due hasre,” Jock said as he carefully packed away the poles and gear. “Oh my, they packed the ‘92 bottling? I really must have a word with my butler, I specifically requested the ’79!”

“Get in! Stefania called out as the steamers boiler reached full boil, belching gouts of thick black smoke from its stack.

“Tally ho!” Jock cried out as he grabbed a hand rail as Stefania released the brakes and the steamer leaped forward throwing dirt and grass in its wake as she steered it down the rough track towards the airships. “I say, this reminds me of India!” Jock called out over the wind as Stefania careened between ruts and rocks, barely missing tree’s as Jock clung to the hand rail whooping with enthusiasm .

“Well, this is quite a pickle. Didn’t see this happening,” Steede said as he opened his bird guide. “Quite the extravaganza we’ve come across.”

“Shall we retire to the steamer?” Peele said with a twinkle, “this should make for an interesting day drive.”

“Allow me,” Steede grinned tipping his hat to her.

Grant ran past Ensign Mender and onto the bridge. He ignored the shouts from the bridge crew and Captain Panache as he went to the emergency locker and busted open the lock.

“Grant, what has gotten into you?” Captain Panache asked as he tried to keep The Saltire under control.

“They ruined my best sporran! I’m going to make them pay!” Grant cried as he brandished the double barrel flare pistol widely about the bridge.

Shouts went up as the double barrels crossed all upon the bridge followed by cries of “Are ye daft! This is an airship!”

Rebecca slid the brass knuckles from the special pocket in her skirts, sliding them over her fingers and began to inch closer towards Grant.

Grant ignored the outcry and raced off the bridge, past Big Mikey, and down back into the bowels of the airship.

“Was that a crewman?” James asked looked around.

“In a roundabout sort of way, yes,” Captain Panache replied as he strained to bring the wheel about. “I want the engines at full throttle!”

Master M grinned. His airships engines were steadily overtaking The Saltire. “Prepare the grappling hooks! I wan to board her!” his grin was cold as he gripped his cane and rose from his command chair. “I will have my revenge,” he hissed loudly.

To Be Continued....

Rob

[Jock Scot]

Well, I suppose if I can't go fishing with a pretty lady, then, a spot of "daring do" with a pretty lady is the next best thing. Maybe I might get a chance to take a shot or two at some errant dirigible?

[Rob Wright]

VIII

Jock let out a whoop as Stefania passed him the rifled Double Barrel Mach IV Elephant gun. “I say, this is a hand crafted Weber! Delightful craftsmanship!” jock’s face was alight with glee as his hands gripped the gun.

“Hold on! I’m going to swing us around!” Stefania called out as she gave the steamer’s wheel a hard spin and lifted the rear wheels up and around sending sprays of gravel forward.

Jock snapped the Weber to his shoulder, spotted, and gave the double triggers a delicate squeeze. The explosion of the rounds boomed across the land as the recoil slammed into Jock’s shoulder. The rear prop of The Tesla sputtered and blossomed into smoking flame.

“Drat,” Jock muttered as he ejected the spent shells and inserted two fresh rounds. “Bloody wind.”

Stefania didn’t say anything as she grabbed the shifter, popped the clutch and the steamer leaped forward its boiler screaming as id caromed down the road towards the field.

Grant connected the safety line to his utility belt and popped the hatch that allowed access to the top of The Saltire. Swearing violent oath’s he braced his feet firmly so he was immobile facing towards the now smoking Tesla. He opened the double barrel flare pistol and removed the standard emergency flares. Out of his hidden pocket beneath the apron of his kilt, he took out two special shells. Shells he had spent months crafting.

“That’s it, come closer, I’ll teach you a lesson you will never forget! NO ONE DESTROYS MY RUBBER CHICKEN SPORRAN AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!”

“Such heroics,” Master M chuckled. “A grand gesture but futile in the end. All forward turrets, Fire upon that man!”

With a hydraulic whir the main turrets trained their guns on Grant. Shells were rammed home and ballistics presented firing solutions.

Grant aimed the flare pistol and fired the first barrel. The recoil knocked him back his leather kilt fly up as he landed on his back his booted feet kicking in the air. The shell screamed forward a trail of white smoke following as it collided with the main turret pod and exploded. The Explosion ripped open the pod sending men and metal spewing out into the atmosphere as The Tesla rocked and dipped.

Jock steadied the Weber as Stefania floored the steamer racing along the meadow. He squeezed the triggers as he sighted the dipping Tesla. The first shell missed the forward engine assembly and exploded far forward in a dazzling explosion raining shrapnel on The Saltire.

Grant cried out and swatted at his body screaming, “I’m on your side! Not me them! Don’t let your jealousy of my good looks take over! Them! Not me!” He kept gesturing at The Tesla.

“Who is that up there?” Stefania asked. “It looks like a manic monkey.”

“Only a lunatic would go out on an airship like that under these conditions,” Jock said as he reloaded the Weber. Another explosion ripped through The Tesla as Grant’s second shot took out the remaining forward turret pod. “Though I must say whoever it is, is getting in some lucky shots.” Jock hefted the Weber to his shoulder again.

Captain Panache arms were vibrating with the strain of the engines. “Ensign Mender! Prepare the crew for boarding action! I’m swinging us around!”

“Aye aye Captain!” Ensign Mender snapped off a proper salute and rushed to his station followed by Big Mikey.
John looked at Rebecca and raised an eyebrow. “This should be interesting<“ he said in a low voice. Rebecca nodded and gripped her brass knuckles.

“Ram them!” Master M as The Tesla sputtered, it’s engines bean to seize up as cut oil and fuel lines choked the life from them. “I will not be robbed again!”

Captain Panache spun The Saltire around and the powerful engines propelled the airship forward as Ensign Mender extended the boarding ramp and Big Mikey operated the ramming spike.

“Oh my that does not look good,” Jock said as the two airships hurtled towards each other.

James!” Stefania cried out as she could only gaze upwards and observe as the ramming spike shattered the bridge of The Tesla anchoring The Saltire to the wounded airship.

“Forward men!” Captain Panache ordered as his crew raced across the gangplank in a swirl of pleats, making quick work of the resistance they met with on the other side. John and Rebecca followed cautiously, knowing the deviousness of Master M.

Grant leaped forward onto the bridge landing among the shattered bodies of the bridge crew. He looked around and spotted Master M crawling towards an open escape hatch. “Oh no you don’t, you’re going to pay for what you did.” Grant brushed his golden flowing locks back from his face.

Master M looked back and let out a cry as his nails scraped against the metal deck. “NO! Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t worry,” Grant grinned as he slowly raised the flare pistol. Master M whimpered as Grant’s finger began to squeeze the trigger. The bridge exploded as the access hatch was blown. The shockwave sent Master M flying into the escape pod and knock Grant onto his back again his kilt flying up.

Captain Panache raced onto the bridge his blade at the ready.

“Is that Grant?” Big Mikey peered into the smoky bridge as he knocked two skulls together.

“No time to waste! Grab Grant and lets get out of here!” Captain Panache ordered.

Ensign Mender lifted Grant in his arms and the crew of The Saltire hurried back to their airship.

Jock and Stefania were waiting at the edge of the meadow as The Saltire disengaged and gently pulled away to land a few hundred yards away as The Tesla Drifted out over the sea and exploded as it skimmed over the waves.



Epilogue

Grant lay upon the hospital bed as the nurses began to treat his wounds. Miss Peele had assumed the position of head nurse at the last minute while Steede was examining the records. Grant moaned and knocked back hands as they tried to undo his kilt.

“Leave it on! Don’t touch it!” he cried as the pain killers began to take effect.

“Now sir, we need to remove it, you have wounds under there!” a nurse pleaded with him.

Miss Peele knew there was a pocket underneath where grant kept valuables. Steede thought that was where the plans they were sent to find may be hidden. Or at least that is what they had been led to believe by Mother. Deftly she thrust her hand beneath the kilt and suddenly stopped.

“Oh my!”

Grant’s cries of joy could be heard across the ward as patients and staff looked towards the emergency room.


Master M slid the coins across the counter as the station agent handed him the ticket to France. “Have a good trip sir,” the agent said without feeling.

“Oh I will,” Master M said, “I will.”




The End

[Jock Scot]

Dammit I must be getting past it! One shot should have done the trick.

Well done Rob, a great fun story and even poor old GRANT seems to have ended up enjoying himself. He does seem to be a little unsteady under fire though, the odd bit of shrapnel flying about is nothing to get excited about,I would have thought.

[BEEDEE]

Grant and a kilt check by Emma Peel? Someone's imagination ran riot. Now I know this is a work of unbridled fiction!!

Brian