Hasn't changed a bit, has it?” Aaron asked, as the carriage approached military headquarters at break neck speed. “Still the same old dusty building full of washed up generals and admirals.”
Harold eyed him with annoyance.
“Is that your plan, then?”
“Only if you like,” Aaron said, with a smile. “What's yours?”
“Go to them and inform them that I have the information, but they have to promise me your safety first, if they want to have it.”
“Blackmail at the highest level,” Aaron said, with a smile. “I like it.”
“Mm,” Harold said, as they rolled to stop. He moved to bolt out of the carriage, and then stopped, glancing back to Aaron.
“Go,” Aaron promised him. “I'll be right behind you.”
“Not on your life,” Harold said, holding out his arm. “Come on, brother, we'll go into together.”
“Puts a wrench into your plans, then, doesn't it?” Aaron asked, as he accepted Harold's help. He at least had the good sense to pull his hood up over his head, and keep his nose turned down as they crossed up the stairs. However, when they got inside the bustling building, the change of light threw him off and he tripped up the last step.
It caused a commotion, and although Harold caught him, the hood was thrown off.
There was not a man walking in the hallway who did not know the face of the deceased Lord Bamber, the formerly boisterous and charming Aaron.
One could hear a pin drop in the marble hallway.
Admiral Peckard cleared his throat at the end of the hallway. Peckard had been in command on the ship that both of them had practically grown up on. He had been a father figure to both of them, a gentle but firm guiding hand. Now, instead of expressing shock that Aaron had apparently risen from the dead, he simply raised an eyebrow.
“Gentleman,” he stepped aside, indicating the open doorway behind him. “Into my office, now if you please. Who else do you need, Mr. Harper?”
“Top honors,” Harold managed.
“Right,” Peckard turned to a stunned page boy beside him, who couldn't believe his eyes. He had heard the story of how this great Lord had died, but this was unthinkable. “Anything else?”
“Lord Bamber hasn't eaten yet,” Harold said and Aaron smiled.
“Grapes, if you please, sir.”
“Uh huh,” Peckard resisted the urge to swat both of them upside the head as he got them inside. They had precious few seconds until the top ranks would join then, and he used it to his advantage, slamming the door. “Sit,” he pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. “Now, before either of you speak, let me tell you I suspected this from the start.”
“What?” Harold asked, in shock.
“The two of you,” Peckard shook his head. “There was no way you'd be separated by death. Your funeral, Mr. Bamber, seemed....odd.”
“Do you think anyone else thought that?” Aaron asked.
“No,” Peckard said. “Just those of us who knew you well. So what we have here is treason, you know that. You better have a good argument.”
“Aaron and Wesley decoded the documents,” Harold said “And we are all in danger unless we stop it.”
“Stop what?” Peckard asked.
“That's uh... I need their protection first,” Harold said “Or I assure you, sir, everyone will die.”
“Wonderful,” Peckard said, as his door opened. There wasn't an officer among them who didn't do a double take.
“Amazing,” Captain Hamilton said, unimpressed as he closed the door behind him. “This is going to be an entertaining day.”
Aaron and Harold glanced to each other, and Harold cleared his throat, repeating the information.
Peckard looked more annoyed at the repeat request.
“You are threatening us, man,” he said. “Do you understand that?”
“I am...”
“He is protecting his family,” Aaron spoke at last. “Which is mine as well. That is all.”
“That is not an excuse to blackmail half the Admiralty!”
“Sir,” Harold said “Before the generals, my duty is to protect King and country, and that includes his nobles. As one of his favorites, before his...untimely demise...were Lord Bamber and his family. I inherited the title only because he chose to go to the noose.”
“Instead of you,” Peckard was smart.
“Someone had to swing,” Aaron said. “And to be honest, I wasn't sure if I was going to live. I didn't actually intend to.”
“We need to get this information into the right hands within minutes,” Harold urged. “So if you are not going to agree to it, gentleman...our terms are firm. Either Aaron lives and Earl Rippon can retake his place, or we all die. Every one of us, our families, and the nobility.”
Peckard wanted to put his fist through the desk. The two of them had always been like this; always together; always thinking, and always looking out for each other. He wasn't at all surprised by this outcome of events, now that he thought about it.
“Fine,” he said, and his colleagues looked at him in shock. “What choice do we have, gentlemen?” he asked. “In my experience, Mr. Harper tends not to exaggerate.”
Hamilton sighed, glancing to colleagues.
“Let me hear what you have to say, sir.”
“On my terms?”
“On your bloody terms,” Hamilton replied.
Harold glanced to Aaron, who nodded, and produced the papers. Harold handed them over to Peckard, and Aaron coughed, clearing his throat as he leaned over.
“Are you likely to die for a second time, Mr. Bamber?” Peckard asked, barely looking up.
“Some water, that's all,” Aaron said, and Peckard pointed to his side table while he read.
It only took half a glass of water before Peckard shook his head, slamming the papers down on the desk.
“Good God, you could have just told us,” he said, going to his map of the city. The others crowded around, and for a brief moment, Aaron and Harold found themselves completely ignored.
“We could have,” Aaron said. “And negotiated later.”
Harold raised an eyebrow.
“If Wesley was here, he'd disagree.”
“Wonder how he's doing,” Aaron said.
“Oh, Wesley has it under control, whatever he is doing,” Harold said, as the men turned back to him. However, they didn't acknowledge either of them, rushing out the door to mobilize their troops.
Only Peckard eventually remained in the room with them, leaning against the desk and crossing his arms.
“Is there something you'd like us to do, sir?” Aaron asked, and Peckard growled deep in his throat. He knew, however, there was no point in fighting with them about the way they had gone about things.
“How is Earl Rippon?” he asked at last. “I suspected he was with you, when he just disappeared off the face of the Earth.”
“He's alright,” Aaron said. “Should be at the theater, stopping a back up plot to assassinate Lola, which would be the first step to bringing down the Rippon monarchy. My cousin and Wesley's heir know I'm alive, you see, so they thought they'd kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
“There's never a dull moment in your lives, is there?” Peckard shook his head. “You'll be safe, Mr. Bamber. As will your family, don't worry. Do you need troops sent to the theater?”
“Might be useful, if Wesley needs some back up,” Aaron replied. “He's pretty sharp though.”
“Stay here,” Peckard said. “Mr. Harper, come with me if you want. We won't be a moment.”
“Aye, aye sir,” Harold rose, giving Aaron a look as they exited into the hallway. Peckard met him with hardened eyes.
“Do you know what you just risked, sir?” Peckard asked him, once they were in the hallway.
“Nothing more than Mr. Bamber once risked for me,” Harold said “I knew we had time before the fuses might potentiality be lit.”
“You have nerves of steel,” Peckard answered. “But your commission, never mind your life could have been...”
“Sir,” Harold answered. “It wouldn't have mattered.”
“Do not do yourself a disservice,” Peckard answered. “Your legacy in the British navy goes beyond your title, your heart. And you almost just threw it away. Do not ever do such a thing like that.”
“With all due respect,” Harold answered. “What was I suppose to do?”
“Come to me next time you have a treasonous plot you want to resurrect,” Peckard said. “Now, stay here and don't make anything worse.”
“Aye, sir,” Harold said, knowing when to take his leave of a situation. The hallway was becoming chaos, troops were mobilizing, and Harold knew that if he even so much as tried to explain the encryption further, they would clap him in irons.
Inside the room, Aaron was staring out the window, his fingers drumming on his knees. He looked up to Harold with a look Harold hadn't seen before.
“What is it?” Harold asked, concerned. Aaron shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said.
“All these years,” Harold said “You think I don't know when something is troubling you?”
“I miss this,” Aaron said, indicating the chaotic noise around them. “The adrenaline, the office, the maps, even Peckard. I thought I would be fine but this...this is difficult.”
“Well, the British Navy is crafty, if nothing else,” Harold said. “I'm sure they can come up with something to get you back into the swing of things.”
“It won't be the same, though,” Aaron said. “Even if they can fix all the scandal.”
“Aaron, nothing is ever the same,” Harold sat in the chair opposite him. “From one day to the next, a seemingly normal life or not. We can't go back to 4 years ago, 10 years ago, yesterday, no matter what the circumstances.”
“Well, I can dream, can't I?” Aaron said, at last. “Are we to help or just sit here?”
“Sit here or swing,” Harold said, leaning back. “I hope Wesley is doing alright.”
“The brightest brain among us?” Aaron asked. “I'm sure he has everything under control. I just hope the women folk have gotten out of the city by now. Lord, I feel so useless.”
“Aaron, without you, we wouldn't even know there were charges laid,” Harold pointed out. “We'd be sitting in blissful ignorance.”
Harold paused and they both had the same thought.
“What a way to go,” Aaron smiled at last. “At least they'd talk about it for years afterwards. The Bamber legacy would have gone out with a bang, instead of a whisper.”
“There's still time,” Harold said, standing up. There was a knock at the door then, and he turned. “Sir?”
He was expecting one of the higher ranking officers to come in. He hadn't expected the door to open and then close again, slamming behind the man standing at the door.
He hadn't expected Gilles to be standing in front of them, gun cocked, disguised as a midshipman.
Aaron tensed, watching as his cousin pointed the gun between them.
“Sit down, Lord Bamber,” said Gilles. “Or shall I say, Mr. Harper. You usurper.”
“Outside, sir, there are half a hundred...”
“And they won't come in here,” Gilles assured him. “They are too busy trying to stop the explosives, which they won't.”
“If they don't, you die in here with us,” Aaron pointed out.
“And my son takes your title,” Gilles said. “As he should have all along.”
“You've got this planned down to the last detail, I give you credit,” Aaron rose his chin.
Gilles cocked his gun.
“You have no idea,” he said.