Lola had never run so hard in her life, and never wanted to at the same time. She knew that they had to get around the corner and as far from the corridor possible. None of them spoke, focusing on their steps, on the path in front of them, on their breath. Morgan was dragging his leg and she was practically dragging him along the hard ground, with Matheson's help.
They didn't stop running until they saw the daylight streaming in front of them. It was just as they felt like their lungs would burst, and they would drop to the ground. With the last bit of energy, they pushed forward and suddenly, they were around another corner and tumbling out into daylight.
People looked at them like they were made, tripping and panting. Morgan sank onto the ground, his face contorting in pain.
“Where are we?” Lola managed to pant, and Annabelle looked around.
“About a block from the headquarters,” she said. “How Wesley found this close that led into the tunnels is beyond me... But I suppose that's why he is the biggest mind in the military.”
At that moment, they heard a crash, an explosion, a rumble. It was faint, but each of them had been listening for it.
“No!” Lola cried. “No, no, no!” she sank to her knees, her eyes filling with tears and her body overcome with emotions.
“Lola!” Shauna reached out for her, and her strong arms went around her.
“He didn't have to...” Lola wasn't making any sense, but everyone knew what she was speaking of.
“He didn't have to, but someone had to,” Matheson said, softly. “He's a hero.”
“He's a martyr and I'm sick of all of you trying to be so,” Lola sobbed out.
No one had an answer for that. Time seemed to stand still as they stood, listening to Lola's sobs; their own hearts breaking.
“Lola, we should go,” Shauna said at last. “Let's get inside headquarters, tell them the plot has been stopped.
“Tell them what he did,” Lola said. “We can tell them that.”
“Yes, of course,” Shauna said. “He will be remembered as a hero, I promise you that.”
“I'm sorry,” Lola said, suddenly. Shauna looked at her in confusion.
“What are you talking about, Lola? There is no need to apology.”
“I'm sorry for helping Aaron with his own plot,” she said. “I never thought of the impact it would have on you...on all of you. I should have told him that he was ridiculous, that faking his own death. I see now what pain death can cause, even for the few moments you thought it was real. I shouldn't have assisted him.”
“That had to be done,” Shauna said, her head held high. “Just as Wesley had to do what he did. I do not hold it against you.”
“We shouldn't have done it,” Lola sobbed. “We should have never set all of this in motion.”
“Life sets us on a path we have no control of,” Matheson said. “All we can do is learn to live.”
“Or to live without,” Lola took a deep and shaky breath. “Let us go.”
The walk back to military headquarters was mostly in silence. Morgan gritted his teeth against his pain, but managed to hold his chin high as he walked in. He was the one who Peckard spotted as he rushed through the halls. Quickly, Peckard also recognized Matheson and Corrigan, and registered their grim looks.
“What' happened?” he asked. “Something terrible?”
“Yes, and no,” Matheson said. “You look just the same, sir, by the way. All these years.”
“It's good to see you, too,” Peckard replied. “Although I regret that it is under these circumstances. Tell me what's gone on. I didn't hear an explosion, so I assume the city is still intact.”
Lola collapsed in tears again against Shauna's shoulder and Peckard's brow furrowed.
“I uh...Madame, excuse me, I didn't mean... What has happened?”
“It's Wesley, sir,” Matheson said, and Peckard's face fell.
“I am so sorry to hear that.”
“Is there somewhere to sit?” Matheson asked, and Peckard motioned to his office, which was becoming rather full.
No sooner had he done so that Gilles was carried out on a stretcher.
Annabelle raised an eyebrow, her calm face leaning in.
“Is he dead?” she asked the surgeon, who shook his head.
“No, he'll live.”
“Now, why did they make that choice?” she asked, and barged into the office.
Aaron looked taken aback by his sister's entrance.
“You're not supposed to be here,” he said.
“You're not supposed to be doing strenuous activity,” she countered, going to her husband's arms. Harold kissed her gently on the forehead.
“My love, as happy as I am to see you...where are the children?”
“The children are safe,” Annabelle said, as Shauna entered. “We're sure of it.”
“You're here, too?” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “I hesitate to ask what part in this plot you both had.”
“We decided,” Annabelle said, without wavering. “That we had as much right to fight as you did. Why is Gilles alive?”
“Tannoy is dead,” Aaron replied. “One of them needs to be alive to charge. But I heard no explosion...Lola, goodness,” he suddenly got a look at her face. “You've been crying.”
“Gilles isn't the only one dead,” Lola managed and Aaron knew what had happened at once.
“Oh, no,” he said. “Say it isn't so.”
“I wish I could,” her lip began to quiver. “But he saved us all. He chose to stop the fuse. We heard an explosion, but nothing is damaged so somehow...somehow he saved us all. The charges were right underneath this building.”
“Of course,” Harold realized what Lola was saying. Attacking the military headquarters would be much more painful to the city than the palace, in a way. The king had heirs. The military had only a few strong minds. “But Lola, are you sure?”
“We heard the explosion,” Lola said. “There's no way he could have survived that.”
“I'm so sorry,” Harold said.
“Lola,” Aaron touched her side, and she turned to him. “We're here.”
“I know,” she said, her lip trembling. “I know...I've forgotten how to live without him, how to be strong without him. Even when we are apart, I knew he was somewhere in the world, loving me, supporting me...even when we fought, I could feel his presence, always with me, and now... now...”
“We will get through this,” Aaron grabbed both her wrists. “Just like we've done as children.”
“I don't know if I can get through this,” Lola had never considered herself a weak person, nor had she been one to show many emotions outside of the stage. However, she felt like she was going to collapse, her legs trembling and her head spinning. She sank onto the edge of Peckard's desk, and everyone fell into silence.
They had survived all of this, and this would have been the most triumphant moment. Except one of their own was gone; so the moment seemed like a complete loss instead.
“I imagine,” Peckard's voice came calmly. “You'd all like to go home. I've ordered some carriages; they will take you wherever you want to go.”
“We should...” Lola was trying not to sob. “We should retrieve his body.”
“I can send men down to do that,” Peckard replied. “He's a hero, Countess Rippon, he won't be forgotten.”
“What about us?” Shauna managed to speak up. “Are we...to be safe?”
“You saved the headquarters, the palace, and most of the city,” Peckard replied. “The Bamber family will come to no harm. We will pardon you, Lord Bamber, from your crimes. You acted in self defense.”
Shauna choked.
“So he can...he can live out in the open again?” Shauna asked, in disbelief. “We can raise our daughter without fear?”
“You can,” Peckard said. “You have my word on it.”
“Oh my!” Shauna threw her arms around Aaron, who hugged her tightly. “We're free. We're free.”
It was a heart wrenching scene. There was such extreme happiness on one side, and such extreme sadness on the other. Peckard ducked his head, saying nothing. These men had come so far since they were scared powder monkeys on his ship. They had grown up, made lives for themselves, and had families, created legacies. He exchanged a glance with Matheson, who was clearly sharing his thoughts. Their world had shifted so much in a few years, and in some ways, they had all been so successful. In other ways, they had completely failed.
“Report back here when you are ready,” Peckard said. “Take your time, heal, all of you.”
“Yes, sir,” Harold said.
“Lord Bamber,” Peckard said, before they rose. Both Harold and Aaron turned to look at him, and Peckard had to conceal a smile. “There is....if you want to come back to the military...we'd like you here, daily, I think. You undersell the power of your mind, sir. It's best here, helping the whole fleet, than confined to one ship. When you are ready.”
“I don't mean to cause a fuss, sir,” Aaron said. “But out of pity is not how I...”
“It's not pity, man,” Peckard said. “If you think I'd risk the military on pity for your health and your grief, you are sadly mistaken. Unless you are telling me untruths about your part in this matter, your mind is more than adequate when...”
“When my body is not,” Aaron said, his voice low.
“I see things as they are, Lord Bamber,” Peckard replied, and Aaron felt like he was 8 years old again.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” Shauna spoke up, nudging her husband. “It is what we discussed, as much as my husband does not want to...admit it. It is an answer to our prayers. This whole day has been...except for...”
“Go now,” Peckard said, before she started sobbing again. “All of you deserve peace for a few days.”
They helped each other to their feet, heads bent and voices subdued. Not one of them was left behind, limping or shedding tears. Peckard wanted to say so much more to them, but he could not find the right words. Instead, he found a few foot soldiers, giving them instructions to find Wesley's body.
“And be respectful,” he said. “That man was a national hero, I have no doubt he'll get a state funeral. Bring him to me when you can.”
“Aye aye, sir,” they said, and headed off. Peckard sank into his desk chair, putting his hand to face. It had been a day from hell, and it was days like this that he considered retiring. He would like Harold to take his place, but he wasn't ready; not yet. There would come a time when his protégé could handle any scandal and work through any issue, and Peckard could easily step aside from the Navy.
For now, he wanted him to heal, to rest, and to be with his family.
Peckard pulled some paperwork towards him, noting that some of it was crumpled, no doubt by Lola. She had a way of making sure she left her mark on everything, the Countess Rippon did.
Dowager Countess he corrected himself. She would no longer have her husband's title to walk beside.
He hated it, that young men continued to die while old men like him survived. That wasn't the way the world was supposed to be. However, it was the way the world had always been; old men dreaming up new ways for young men to die.
He tried to lose himself in his paperwork, filling in the appropriate lines and writing letters that he had been putting off. He tried to focus on the words on the page, the ink seeping into the parchment, but his mind kept drifting.
He was grateful when he heard a knock on what was his door.
“Sir?”
“Did you find him?” Peckard looked up, and then nearly dropped his pen.
Wesley was standing in his door way, looking confused at his statement. His clothing was singed, and he had a bloody wound on the side of his head, but he was standing well enough.
“Find who, sir?”
Peckard tried to keep his jaw from dropping.
“Your wife thinks you are dead,” he said.
“Oh,” Wesley did seem a little shell shocked, but he was standing there, clearly alive. “That is a shame. I imagine she is quite upset.”
“They all are,” Peckard answered. “So unless you want to stay dead, I suggest you head home in haste.”
Wesley's eyebrow rose, going through the blood seeping from his head. It wasn't a deep wound, Peckard saw, but it was enough to raise him out of the ranks of the young, timid child he had once been.
“I've seen what happens to families when that happens,” he said. “It's not what I want for Lola....I think we have to do things one way or another.”
“Of course,” Peckard said. “I admire your bravery. Which way do you want to do things?”
“Oh,” Wesley actually blushed. “I think I'll live.”
“Good man,” Peckard said. “Do you want a carriage?”
“Uh--” Wesley touched the blood on his head. “I better, yes.”
“Right,” Peckard got up, and then paused, pouring him a drink. Wesley took it without question, clinking his glass with Peckard. “You and Lord Bamber are free, by the way. There will be no charges of treason, or desertion, nothing. You saved us all today.”
“Thank you, sir,” Wesley said. “It was just duty. And...repayment, to the universe, if you will. “
Peckard held his gaze.
“All of us, son, have done things we aren't proud of. Tomorrow is another day to make things right with the world.”
“Sins of the father, sir,” Wesley admitted, and Peckard realized that it was emotion seeping into his broken voice. “I wouldn't want to...my father...”
“You are not your father,” Peckard said. “I knew him, and no one considers the two of you the same, or even similar.”
“I killed...”
“Sometimes, death is necessary,” Peckard answered. “Fret no more, Earl Rippon, the way ahead is clear.”
“Yes, sir,” Wesley ducked his head and Peckard did see the young timid boy once more.
“Come along,” he said, finishing his drink and taking him by the arm. “You've done enough for today.”
He managed to get Wesley into a carriage, giving them strict instructions to go to Bamber Manor and nowhere else.
Once he was gone, Peckard breathed a deep sigh. Tomorrow was another day, he had told Wesley. Sometimes, it was all they could do to survive until tomorrow.