.bmp) |
Illustration for "ALEXANDRA AND THE OLD QUEEN ELEANOR MYSTERY" created by the author. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen J. Williams. |
 |
First published: 1st November 2017
Status: COMPLETE & PUBLISHED.
Revisions: 5 [last revised January 2019]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 01
Previous episode: NONE.
Next episode: “Alexandra gets the jungle fever.”
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 11 - 200021 - 5 – 1969
This story originally appeared on the author's original website called: 'The amazing adventures of Jericho Tibbs!' and was transferred to the new site: 'The Temporal Detectives' in due course. That 'legacy' site is still available but receives no updates or new material.
.bmp)
THIS EPISODE MAY CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS:SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE & BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES INCLUDING PROSTITUTION AND DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES - DRUG REFERENCES - ANTI-RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING - COMMENTS AND BEHAVIOUR THAT MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE BUT WERE CONSIDERED 'NORMAL' IN THE TIME PERIOD. |
IF YOU ARE BELIEVE YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANYTHING CONTAINED IN THIS WRITTEN WORK, THEN DON'T READ IT AND CLOSE THE PAGE! CAUTION: “THIS EPISODE COULD CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE [including sexual violence] HORROR AND GRAPHIC, STRONG SEXUAL REFERENCES. RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 18+ years only.”  |
This episode has an average reading time of approximately 75 minutes.
This story can be found in "The adventures of Alexandra: Series 1" which can be obtained from 'Amazon.com' and all good bookshops!
 |
| EPISODE NOTES: |
The little boat had been drifting for some days upon the slow current of the warm Indian Ocean. The stern had a loose and flapping piece of dirty canvas slung across it, shielding the sole occupant a little from the hot sun.
Well, that wasn’t quite accurate; whilst ship’s cook Franklyn Moneypenny was apparently the sole human survivor from the wreck of the Queen Eleanor, there was someone else sharing the small boat with him: ‘Nelson’ the old Queen’s ships cat lay sleeping under the canvas too – curled up by Frankie’s head – the pair had served on several ships, over the years they had been shipmates and now lay sleeping under the salt encrusted canvas together.
Frankie stirred slowly and lifted the canvas just enough to peer at the skyline – nothing but blue sky and green sea, no birds, planes or ships in sight. He fumbled in his trousers pockets and found the little fob-watch, which had been given to him by his father, the day young Frankie left for sea. He blinked several times as he focused upon the time: 6.35, he wondered if that was PM or AM. He groaned and turned upon his back, staring up at the filthy grey canvas and wondered how many days the pair had drifted.
The fat ginger cat also stirred and pushed himself against Frankie’s outstretched hand, as if saying ‘Hello’. Frankie managed a grin and stroked his little friend gently. “Time for a little water my old friend.” He whispered with cracked and dry lips. He pulled the large China flagon from the old crate stored under the seat and pulled the cork, sniffing at the spout and gently swirling the jug. The little splashing noise made Frankie smile; they still had some water left – not much now, after drifting for about a week he quickly reasoned – then lifted a shallow saucer from the crate and with great care poured a little water onto it.
“He we go; share and share a like shipmate.” He spoke softly and watched the cat lapping up his ration of the precious liquid. Frankie took a shallow swing from the jug and rubbed a little upon his lips. "Good job I was re-stocking this fucker when the storm hit. Now, that was a piece or luck - or was it?"
He now faced the real awful prospect of dying slowly of starvation and/or perishing of terrible thirst. He eased himself up a little and stared at the horizon; nothing but sky and sea. His prospects for survival didn’t look good.
He actually laughed, as he recalled removing his hat and replying: "You get some bloody terrific ones from down here as well!" Franklyn ran both hands over his face and spoke to the cat; "What a fucking woman. She knew exactly what I meant and just smiled. Then she climbed the ladder real slow; like she was letting me have a real good look at heaven on earth. She stopped at the top and shouted down for me to tell young Hugh to bring her some cold lemonade. Her bloody panties couldn't hide her big fanny and there it was staring at me as I looked up. For fuck sake, her old man is one lucky bastard!"
Franklyn was still smiling when he noticed the sun was low on the horizon and now knew his old watch was showing 6.35 PM. “Bake during the day and shiver through the night!” He muttered and cussed several times, searching in the crate for a full tin of anything; he found beans [again!] and started to open it with the short little knife that he always carried in his boot.
“Good job you’re not fussy Nelson; otherwise, you’d go hungry around here.” Frankie grinned at the cat sitting at his feet, who watched him break open the tin and place a spoonful on the saucer – which Nelson scoffed down leaving not a trace of beans or sauce.
Frankie ate from the tin and stared across the gently moving waves at the sunset. "Some fuckers would pay a small fortune to see this - bloody tosser's - I'd sooner have the lady and the ladder any day!" He chuckled and lifted his leg slightly and farted loudly, adding; "Fucking beans!" The cat moved back under the tarpaulin and napped, well away from Frankie's rancid arse.
“Rescue or rain.” He said softly and washed the empty tin with seawater and placed it, upturned, with several others in the bow; they were all bone dry.
“Rain or fucking rescue.” He repeated and pulled the other piece of dirty canvas about his shoulders and watched the sun sink. Frankie smiled at the big cat, which now curled into a ball by his legs and drifted off to sleep. Leaning back against the stern’s rudder-handle, Frankie again slipped into thoughts and half-dreams about old Queen Eleanor’s demise. But the ladder and the woman's panties and peach shaped bum soon dominated his dreams and he really didn't mind a bit. He dozed quietly with only the noise of the sea for company, apart from the cat of course!
2. FOUR WEEKS EARLIER....AND DEFINATELY 1969.
The captain nodded his approval and peered down the gangway at the three passengers who came aboard with young Mr. Roberts [the Second Officer] who was now taking them to their cabins. “Fuck; it’s bad enough having a woman on board without her looking like that.” He muttered and the Boson had to agree; “She’s a fucking stunner alright.” The Boson smiled to himself and returned to the engine room, whilst the captain paced the bridge and cursed; that’s what this shitty trip really needed: a bloody woman on board for bad luck he told himself; several times but could do nothing about it now.
Still, the lady was a doctor and that may prove very useful on a trip like this. The old Queen (against Board of Trade regulations) wasn't carrying a MO (Medical Officer) on this trip to save money. The shipping company liked to be frugal - or tight-fisted bastards - as the Boson would say. Still, the crew couldn’t moan too much; they were being paid ‘wrecking’ rates for this trip. That made Captain Cole smile a little and he started to shout orders for the ship to get underway to his deck crew through a megaphone.
The Queen Eleanor left her home port for the last time on the evening tide. No fanfares or well-wishers saw her off from the Dockside: but a couple of burly dockworkers did wave and shout: “Goodbye and good luck!” Some of the deck crew waved back; actually, a little sad that it was the old Queen’s last departure from her home port. The captain watched from the bridge and wondered which ship the company would give him next. He hoped it was the new cargo vessel that the company had just taken delivery of and that meant the American routes. "Bloody New York!" He muttered; oh yes, that could make life interesting for him.
“I’ll stick to alcohol.” He muttered and tipped the glass he had filled into the cracked and worn sink. "I wonder how the big man's doing." He asked Alex and dropped onto the threadbare armchair, by the cabin door. She grinned again; "As long as Wilson passes the damn Inspectors Exam, he should get his promotion: that's right isn't it Jericho?"
Jericho nodded, then slightly smiled; "Ah, but who will we get as his replacement, that's the big question." Owen groaned; "As long as it’s not bloody 'Jumbo'. I can't understand a bloody word that mad Scot says."
Alex threw her hands up in mock despair; "God no, please tell us it’s not him!" She spoke to Jericho with real concern in her voice, but Jericho just chuckled and relaxed back on the sofa.
“I’ll get that.” Owen pulled open the door and Hugh Dougal stood smiling but looking a little ill-at-ease in the Stewards outfit that the Boson told him to wear. “Good evening, Madam & gentlemen. I will show you to the Dining Room as Dinner is scheduled for six PM. You will, of course, be dining with the ship’s Captain and Officers.” Hugh gestured down the brightly lit corridor and both Alex and Jericho rose together with Owen following.
“Who’s that?” Alex asked the young man, pointing to the large ginger cat sitting at the foot of the stairs, who appeared to be watching them with his sole good eye. “That’s Nelson, the ship’s cat. He is a very good mouser.” They walked to the stairs and young Hugh stopped; “Well he’s the Cook’s cat actually, they both joined us together at Liverpool. Apparently, they have been on several ships over the time they have been at sea.” He pointed up the stairs and added; “Please follow me, the Dining Room for Officers is located in the Officer’s corridor.”
The Dining Room was surprisingly spacious, and the table well set with cutlery, glasses and plates. Owen lifted the Menu Card from his napkin and smiled; “Lamb with mint sauce, Chateau potatoes and green peas. That’ll do me.”
Alex sipped her water glass and tapped the Menu card; “I am impressed; a choice of two main course’s. I’m going with Sirloin of Beef, new potatoes, green peas and creamed carrots, followed by a Chocolate & Vanilla Éclair.”
Young Mr. Robert’s joined the table and ordered the Lamb & Mint sauce with a can of ‘Long-life’ beer. That caught Owens interest and he also ordered a can of the beer. Jericho had the Beef with no desert and actually did enjoy his meal. They sent their compliments about the meals to the cook. Mr. Roberts apologized that the captain and the chief Engineer [the only other officers on board] couldn't join them for dinner. They were sorting out a minor problem in the engine room. That made Jericho smile: on an old ship like this, any 'minor' problems with the damn engines were actually a major problem! He kept those thoughts to himself. But Mr. Roberts was a congenial host and made light conversation, especially with Alex. The young man really couldn't hide his interest in her. That also made Jericho smile.
"I think he would have loved a nice sea voyage." Murmured Alex and swallowed down her glass of brandy. Owen chuckled; "What; on a tramp steamer about to flounder and bump off the entire crew?" Alex shrugged; "You know what I Mean."
Jericho was under a blanket on the sofa. That always amazed Alex, when they had to play husband and wife that Jericho could sleep soundly on any old sofa, couch or chair. She had to smile to herself about her Inspector; in all the times they 'slept' together on missions as a married couple, she had never worried once about him making sexual advances to her. Alex knew full well, that she certainly wouldn't feel that safe with many other men. "He’s a bloody true, old English gentleman; right down to his pyjamas, little wonder Lizzie fell for him." She whispered to herself and dropped off to sleep; smiling.
3. STRANGE STORIES AFTER DINNER.
The following day had glorious weather and the team relaxed on the deck. Jericho sat in a deck chair under a drab grey umbrella and read "War & Peace' in the original Russian language. He sipped a glass of cold white wine and occasionally looked up from his book and watched the calm sea. He spoke quietly to Owen, who was dossed in the deckchair next to him; "Almost like a bloody cruise ship holiday; pity about the sinking and deaths that will unfold soon."
Owen sighed loudly; "Christ's sake Alex! Couldn't you find a swimsuit that covered a little bit more?" Alex was wearing the height of ladies bathing fashion for 1969: the bikini. She just waved his words away and laid her blanket and pillow down. Even Jericho had to take a second look; the little black bikini barely hid her ample charms - and as usual - she looked absolutely stunning. She sat on her blanket and rubbed the lotion over herself. A couple of sailors stood by the rail and just stared as they rubbed the rail with a couple of dirty cloths.
Nothing of note was recorded for several years. But in 1955, her wireless room received an SOS late one winter’s night, on a rare Atlantic trip to New York. The wireless operator rushed to the captain’s cabin and woke him from a deep sleep, brandishing the call written in his log. A certain RMS Titanic was sinking after striking an ice-berg – unfortunately for the hapless operator - he had been secretly drinking and was promptly thrown in the brig!
But he never changed his story and even repeated it at his discipline hearing; he was removed from sea duties and later dismissed. He maintained the story was true for the remainder of his life. The final story retold by Mr. Roberts had happened just six years ago, a few days after the Kennedy assassination and so, was largely overlooked by the media at the time. A body fell from the sky and landed in the sea just yards from the ship; it was recovered and created a mystery still unsolved to this day [1969]. The young man was badly burnt, as if killed in an explosion and carried no identity papers. His clothes were so burnt they yielded no clues to his name, only his strange shoes may have solved the mystery [but they didn’t] they appear to have been made of plastic and rubber, looking like running shoes without the spikes.
The dinner party broke up and the passengers took a turn around the decks before returning to their cabins and the Queen Eleanor steamed on. The captain never did speak to Jericho about his 'wife's' clothes; He enjoyed the views too much! The days and nights passed slowly, but skirting the African coast, she encountered a tropical storm, and the crew was impressed by their passenger’s resilience to stormy waters.
4. ALEX GETS FIRST CLASS SERVICE! |
He watched every night himself and - rather unusually for him - never missed dining with the passengers. He had the privilege of sitting opposite her and the real pleasure of catching her crossing her long legs or bending forward over the table in those low-cut dresses. He explained to the Chief and the Boson that it helped 'crew morale' and gave the men something to look forward too. No one in the crew disagreed with that!
He had been treated to Alex wearing the tiniest pair of red panties he had ever seen; they hid nothing. Franklyn had no idea they made woman's knickers’ that small. He had also found out, that the woman must shave her private parts. "What a fucking shaven haven!" He said to himself and wondered how he could get the damn pictures developed.
She knelt slowly and ran a finger over the swollen head of his big cock; "Ah, wet already. Good boy." She whispered and enclosed the cock's end with her wet, warm mouth and began to suck. 'I don't think he'll last long. I do hope he can recover quickly, or I may be a little disappointed here.' She thought, as she slowly ran her tongue around the throbbing cock's top and swallowed a little. 'Tastes good, bloody good.' she told herself.
Young Hugh was pulling off his jacket and breathing heavily. He had heard about this happening to young stewards on the company's cruise ships, but simply couldn't believe it was happening to him.
Then he realised - quite suddenly - that he was ejaculating too. He shouted out and emptied his second load into her. They lay together panting, exchanging long wet kisses, their tongues in each other’s mouths. Alex lay back groaning; she certainly hadn't been disappointed with the young man's performance, despite his obvious inexperience with women. They must have lain together for some minutes and then Alex ran her hands over his face and kissed him. She giggled; "I think I need another shower. You probably need one too. Do you want to join me?" He nodded and gently pulled his cock from inside her and lay back, breathing heavily.
The strange death of young Hugh Dougal, during the night of 'white light' soon followed those words. On a quiet warm evening, a strange cloud formation began to appear above the ship, so both crew and passengers gathered on the deck to view the odd phenomena - the dark clouds appear to be riddled with flashing bright lights and with a suddenness that even surprised the very experienced officers and crew; a new, strange storm swept over the old Queen. With rolling waves and torrential rain, the ship was tossed about like a plastic toy. Jericho, with Alex and Owen following, headed for the bridge and joined Captain Ward who was struggling to keep control of the rolling ship.
The bridge was suddenly illuminated by a burst of bright light, so intense that you simply had to close your eyes until it passed. The storm abated quickly, and it was the Boson bursting through the deck hatchway onto the bridge shouting frantically that actually shocked everyone; he looked and sounded totally distraught.
The Boson told them to take young Hugh to the medical Bay and be gentle about it. They grunted and easily lifted the boy’s body between them. Slowly the little group made for the old Medical Officers cabin which doubled as his surgery.
Jericho held Alex and Owen back for a few seconds, he sounded quite grim; "No Collector appeared, this death was unscheduled and that's nearly impossible. The only explanation is that the boy was out of his natural time period. Now that is interesting." His mirror buzzed gently, and he discretely read the message without smiling. Jericho sighed; "We've been assigned the case of the boy's missing soul." Owen grunted; "One down; twenty-one to go."
Jericho stood quietly in the corner, arms folded, deep in thought. Finally, he sighed loudly; "Members of the crew who die while we're in the wrong time period, will not have their souls collected. That explains nicely why no souls were collected when the Queen Eleanor disappeared in 1969. The whole bloody ship was in the wrong time."
The door opened slowly, and young Mr. Roberts stuck his head around the door; "The Captain wants to see you on the bridge.... there’s been a couple of strange developments that you should really know about." Jericho waved the officer in and Mr. Roberts pulled off his hat and stood by the table staring at the body of Hugh; covered with the white sheet. Jericho smiled and tapped the young man's arm; "What strange developments?"
Mr. Roberts coughed - he looked a little distraught actually - and nervously rubbed his hands together. "The small lifeboat that was kept at the stern has gone and..... with it the bloody cook and his mangy cat." He pulled a hankie from his trouser pocket and wiped his face; "According to old man Parish [an elderly seaman of many years experience] the bloody cook was replacing the stores in the lifeboats with new provisions and stuff, when the storm struck, and the boat just flew over the side - complete with the cook and his damn cat - the old man has only just told the captain. This was the first opportunity he had, with Hugh dropping dead and all that...."
"You said developments, what else has happened?" Jericho asked quietly. Young Mr. Roberts looked out into the corridor and slowly closed the door; "The captain used the sexton to fix our position and it wasn't right." Owen, Alex and Jericho all exchanged a knowing glance. "Why wasn't it right?" Jericho asked and folded his arms. Mr. Roberts took a deep breath and looked quite grim; "We're about a thousand miles off course, we're somewhere in the Pacific Ocean which is bloody impossible!" He wiped his face again and re-checked the corridor.
"The Captain and the Chief have both checked the ship's clocks; every one of them has stopped at 6.10pm." He held up his wristwatch; "Every single watch has stopped at that time; the exact time when the strange storm struck." He walked to the door and turned slightly; "The captain has to turn around and go after the bloody cook; can't leave the poor bugger drifting out there." He managed a smile and replaced his cap; "So don't worry when you feel the old Queen turning one eighty." He added and disappeared through the door.
Owen shrugged his shoulders; "No bloody dinner then." Alex and Jericho just stared at him and then smiled. "Well, we can do something about that." Alex said and rolled up her sleeves.
6. THE ISLAND.
With no cook, Alex and Owen knocked up a curry for the evening meal; for themselves and the crew - that went down really well with the men, and the captain thanked the pair with real gratitude. "You’re a bloody lucky man Mr. Tibbs, your wife is intelligent, brave and beautiful and can knock up a bloody decent curry!" The captain smiled and Alex demurely acknowledged his compliment. Owen grinned and gave the thumbs up; for a young monk from Medieval England, he was an excellent curry cook!
Mr. Robert's rose from the table and fixed a white apron on; the captain stared at him. The young man grinned; "I'm going to help with the washing up." He spluttered out and started to collect dishes from the table. Captain Cole waved him back into his chair and leaned close to him; "Mr. Roberts, you’re a bloody officer, not a bloody galley boy. Just order a couple of the youngsters to do it."
Mr. Roberts slowly removed the apron and nodded; "Sorry Sir... I just thought..." The captain waved his words away and grunted; "Go and relieve the Chief on the bridge, so he can get his bloody dinner." Mr. Roberts said nothing more and headed for the bridge - suitably rebuked. The captain slumped back in his chair and sighed; "He's actually going to make a good officer - in a few more years - I take it, he's told you about our.... unusual situation?" Jericho nodded. The phone on the wall buzzed and the captain jumped up and answered it. He replaced the receiver with some puzzlement on his face.
"What is it?" Jericho asked, though he had a good idea what the call was about. The captain ran a hand over his face; "There's a bloody Island off starboard." He said simply and headed for the bridge. The team left the table for the deck with Owen muttering; "Which bleeding side is starboard?" Alex grinned; "Just follow us."
They stood by the railings and could just make out the island in the gathering gloom of night. It was the little flickering lights in two separate locations that caught their attention. "Fires; bonfires on the beach probably." Jericho said and pulled his mirror out. "It’s inhabited then." Owen stated and stared hard at the dim lights.
The boson appeared behind the team and coughed; causing Jericho to plunge his mirror back into his pocket. "Sorry, to disturb you people, but the captains made a decision about young Dougal." Jericho smiled; "What about young Hugh?" The boson wiped his face and did not smile; "We've no way to store the body. I mean we don't have a fridge big enough to hold a body, so the captain’s decided to bury the boy on the island. At least that way, it could be retrieved later by his family or someone. There would be no chance of that, if we bury him at sea."
Jericho nodded at the good sense of that and obviously said nothing about the fact, that the year was 1757 and his family or friends could never recover the body in 1969.
The boson turned to go and added; "We'll do it tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to come and pay your respects - if you wish." He walked back down the deck towards the bridge ladder and disappeared. "I think he saw your mirror." Alex said quietly to Jericho, who just nodded and pulled his mirror back out; "I was just reading that in 1757, this island was inhabited by two fierce tribes who attacked and killed each other on a regular basis. They were also cannibals and cooked up their victims on the beaches; some sort of primitive ritual I suppose."
Alex grimaced, and Owen sighed; "Charming. I take it they won't be interested in my curry recipes." Alex and Jericho just groaned, and the team headed back to their cabins. "This bloody old tub does carry some guns? - doesn't it?" Owen muttered. No one answered because they didn't know.
The following morning after a light breakfast, the landing/burial party gathered on the foredeck. The body of young Hugh had been carefully wrapped in white bed sheets and then placed in a canvas bag which had been sewed together by his friends, a real old tradition of the sea. Everyone watched in silence as his body was lowered into the lifeboat.
The captain had opened the ships armoury [on Jericho's suggestion] and issued two of his mature men with rifles. He carried a pistol and a bible - for the burial service.
Owen managed to persuade the captain to issue him with a rifle; he really did smile at that; much to the dismay of Alex, who told him that she didn't approve of guns; especially in the hands of youth. Owen just smiled and clutched the rifle with some reverence. "Probably thinks he's bloody Ale Capone." Alex muttered to Jericho as they climbed into the small boat, and it was lowered away.
The little outboard motor powered the boat towards the shore. As they approached, they could make out a blackened pile of stones near the tree line, still with a little whispery grey smoke rising. They beached a few minutes later and heaved the boat up onto the sand - to prevent the tide dragging it back out. Cole, Jericho and Owen left the boat and headed for the stones - the remainder waited by the boat with Alex - rifles at the ready.
Cole wiped a hand across his face and stared down at the bones sprawled across the stones; a smashed and burnt skull lay nearby. There were numerous, older bones and skulls littered around the grim site - including quite small ones - "Probably women or children's." Jericho spoke to Cole, who admitted he wanted to vomit.
"Sweet fucking Jesus, fucking cannibals in the late 20th century don't make sense. How is that possible?" The captain said quietly; Jericho and Owen didn't answer because they knew the year was really 1757 and the people of these islands had not yet been civilized or introduced to Christianity, by some very brave Missionaries.
Owen tapped Jericho on the shoulder and pointed towards the small mountain that dominated this part of the island. "Near the top of the hill, there appears to be some kind of wooden stockade and it doesn't look that overgrown." Both Jericho and Cole Ward stared up at the small structure. "Well, there's been or is, some civilized fuckers around here." The captain muttered and looked back down at the bones.
"I really don't think this is the proper place to bury young Hugh; do you?" The captain asked Jericho, who had to agree with him; the bloody savages would probably did the body up and feast on it. That really did turn Owens’s guts. He pointed – again - to the mysterious structure; "That's a bloody flag hanging from the tower - at the end - isn't it?" Jericho nodded; "It's an old Spanish flag I think."
That's when a shot rang out, followed quickly by a couple more. The sailors with the lifeboat were firing at the tree line and with good reason; at least twenty natives had appeared. An arrow bounced off the stones and another slapped the sand next to Owens’s boots. He pulled back the bolt on his rifle and pushed it forward, raising the rife and then fired. One native dropped to the ground and the remainder charged. A spear went past Jericho's head, and the three men ran back to the boat.
Jericho stared back at the now crowded beach and could clearly see a big white male standing, arms folded, watching them. He was dressed like the natives except for a magnificent, feathered bonnet and curved sword.
He made a gesture with his arm and the native warriors fell silent and he turned away, disappearing back into the jungle; the natives quietly following. Old John Ebbs was taken to the medical room and Alex managed to remove the arrowhead and stitch him up. He was given some brandy and antibiotics. He confessed that he preferred the brandy, rather than the damn needles.
Cole Ward chuckled and headed for the bridge; he really did have a growing passion for that woman and smiled to himself.
7. THE CAPTAIN'S TABLE.
Cole pulled her back into his arms and kissed her with some strength. More anger that passion she thought. "Your fucking mine now." He said and kissed her again. She pulled away and managed a smile, whispering that she had to go. He shook his head and took hold of her arm and started to walk her to the door, saying; "No my darling. You’re fucking mine now and with me your going to stay." She could see that he actually meant those words. She shuddered and tried to pull away. He held on tight and with his free hand slapped her hard across the arse. Alex yelped and he pulled her back to the table and chairs.
Ho ho ho,
He'd go to France without delay.
Halla-ralla-ray, halla-ralla-rah.
He'd go to France without delay.
Halla-ralla-ray ho ho!
And when the father came to France
Ho ho etc.
'Twas seven sick nuns he found by chance
Halla-ralla-ray etc.
He saw these nuns in the convent yard
All lying down on benches hard.
To one he said, "What can I do?
I'm priest as well as doctor, too."
The sick nun made a quick reply,
"Oh treat me, Father, ere I die."
He took in hand his mighty prick
And he fucked that nun so very quick.
The others ran that they might see,
And they asked the priest what could it be.
"A medicine stick in my hand I hold
To cure all sick nuns in my fold"
Another nun who lay close by
Cried, "Father, none so sick as I!"
He fucked each nun with all his might
And said he'd come another night.
Their pleasure gone they looked in vain
For the priest who carried the medicine cane.”
His big rough hands slid down and took hold of her shorts and tugged them down with just one pull. A small tube of ‘KY’ jelly tumbled to the floor. He just grinned and Alex’s hands were on the waistband of his grubby shorts, and she quickly reciprocated by pushing them down. Her eager hands gripped his cock, and she was well pleased. It grew rapidly to her gentle caress and just kept growing. Both kicked off their shorts and Alex slowly squatted down and eased the monster into her mouth. The big man groaned as she licked, sucked and stroked his cock.
Carefully and slowly she - facing away from him – lowered herself onto his lap. His big cock slowly eased into her bum hole and Alex settled on it, cursing a little. Slowly at first, she began to ride his cock. He gripped her around the waist with one hand whilst the other probed her open wert fanny. Alex groaned; his fingers worked her vagina beautifully and she squirted again.
Captain Cole had posted an armed watch on both the bridge and the stern. He had moved the old 'Queen Eleanor' some miles out to sea and stopped. That warm afternoon, he conducted a burial at sea for young Hugh Dougal which everyone attended. Hugh's body was placed under ship's flag [the Red Ensign] and part of the railings was removed. The large table from the medical Room was used to slide his body over the side. It had been weighed down with pieces of metal and chain; anything that was heavy.
Alex heard Jericho explaining that was impossible, but the captain insisted he answer, come up with something; anything. Finally, Jericho managed to get Cole to accept a brandy and sit. Alex slipped from her bath and wrapped a bath robe about her. She quietly opened the door and smiled, greeting the captain with some warmth. His aggressive mood changed immediately. Jericho did smile to himself; Alex would be the best Magicians Assistant - ever, [all magicians’ assistants were used for distraction.]
The Chief was watching through binoculars and shook his head in disbelief; "It's a fucking pirate ship! - Sorry about the language Miss - it does actually appear to have bloody cannons poking out the sides." He nearly laughed; "What the fuck is going on? Sorry again Miss."
"They're fucking firing at us!" exclaimed Mr. Roberts.
"No shit Sherlock." The Chief said and turned to the captain; "All we have are a couple of rifles and some flares." The captain lowered his glasses; "Get the men ready chief, soon as she's close enough, fire a couple of flares into her. Get Simm's to do that - he could knock the wings off a fly."
Another shot from 'The Boudicca' smashed through the forward store and set the place alight. Captain Cole Ward sounded the ship's alarm and ordered the fire-fighting party forward. He gripped the ship's wheel with the helmsman and said with some authority; "Find something to hang onto, but this will hurt them more than it does us." He turned the 'Queen Eleanor' hard into the Pirate ship.
Captain Cole turned the Queen again and increased speed. The pirate ship was now sinking by the bow and ablaze; but the pirates were still firing, and musket balls slammed into the woodwork of the old bridge.
"The bastards are abandoning ship!" yelled Jim Grieves - the Helmsmen - as a bullet shattered the swinging lamp by his head. Jericho could see a small boat being rowed away from the pirate ship with about a dozen men aboard. They were heading for the Queen and still firing.
10. S.O.S. - LITERALY: SAVE OUR SOULS!
Owen and Alex had attended the wounded; they had been lucky. The pirate attack had cost them one dead and three injured: not seriously. Jericho sat in his cabin and called up the Duty Controller; she listened to his request and nodded her agreement. Souls were being lost and more could fall into the darkness unless some drastic action was taken. A Knight of God was on their way; and apparently, Wilson was keen to join his colleagues. Even the normally dour Controller smiled at Jericho's audacious plan to get them aboard.
The little man gripped a tit and his other hand disappeared into Alex’s panties. The big man leaned forward and flipped open the small, mirrored cabinet on the wall opposite. He pulled a tube of KY jelly out and said quietly; “My turn to provide the lube.” Alex smiled as she felt the other man tugging down her lacy panties.
Alex lay on the floor, her back against several pillow, with her legs open and the two men took turns fucking her: hard. She loved it and had a couple of small orgasms. They changed position and Alex climbed on the eager little man and pushed his monster into her wet and gaping vagina. She lifted her arse to the big man, and he mounted her as well. Both men fucked her hard and she a huge climax, spraying cum everywhere while groaning, panting and screaming.
The captain placed his cup down; "Time to take a few readings of the stars, I think." He pulled his old sexton from the cupboard in the chart room and headed for the deck. Jericho watched him go; Captain Cole was every inch a sea captain, clam under extreme pressure and not afraid to make decisions. He was also an excellent sailor. But he had a real, growing fixation for Alexandra and that could prove a problem. Jericho found himself smiling at that thought; why was he surprised by the man's passion for Alexandra!
"Here we go, right on time." Jericho muttered and their attention was turned to the Queen's slow-moving stern. A little white light was flashing. The bridge phone buzzed, and Owen took the helm, whilst Jim answered it. "This is great; I'm driving the damn ship." He said to Alex, who just sighed and whispered; "Boys and their bloody big toys." Jim looked quite puzzled; "There's a little boat a stern of us, a small motor launch. What the fuck - sorry miss - is it doing out here, in the middle of nowhere?"
Jericho smiled at him; "After what happened today; I wouldn't be surprised by anything." Jim had to agree with that observation. The captain had returned to the bridge and was watching his stern. "It can't be the bloody pirates; it’s a motor launch." He said to Jericho, who wiped his face and smiled; "More lost souls in this mad place?" The captain nodded. "Tell Mr. Roberts to bring our visitors to the bridge." He instructed Jim and then stared at Owen, happily gripping the ship's wheel and just sighed.
The team assembled on the fore-deck - after a very reluctant Owen had to be nearly prised from the ships wheel - and James explained what he had in mind. Jericho nodded his agreement with it; they would have to cut their losses - three souls had already been lost - they needed to save the remaining nineteen.
That's when they realised the old Queen had stopped. Jericho touched the nearest railing and could feel no vibration; that was not good. Young Mr. Robert's quickly appeared and looked anxious and distraught; "The bloody engines have failed. The Chief reckons that's it. The pumps have failed and we've no spares on board. We're adrift with no control over her."
"How long will we have power for the lights and air conditioning?" Jericho asked the young officer, who continually wiped his face. "About twelve hours before we run out of diesel for the emergency generators; the tight-fisted bastards - sorry miss - at company HQ had decided that since the ship is being scrapped, we didn't need too much of the stuff; and no real spare parts either." He walked slowly away; head bowed a little. James sighed; "Well, that's that. We have to go with the plan now."
Just after midnight, in dull moonlight, Jericho and the team climbed carefully down the wet rope ladder into the motor launch. Owen chuckled and said to Alex; "Someone in Supplies has a bloody weird sense of humour, look at the name." Alex glanced down and did smile; the little boat was called 'The Celeste.'
They settled in the small cabin and Owen asked Alex why she was suddenly so moody. She sighed; "That bloody captain Cole made a pass at me. It took me quite by surprise. The things he said to me were very flattering, but totally inappropriate. I told him I was a very happily married woman, and do you know what he said?" Owen grinned and said 'no' quietly. She never finished her story; Wilson appeared in the small hatchway and said simply; "We're underway. This should be some show."
The motor launch pulled away and rocked and pitched in the swelling sea. "This may get rough, so hang onto something." James shouted above the rising winds and waves. Owen wiped spray from his face and pointed to the sky; "The storms back." They crowded into the cabin and stared through the windows; they could see the old Queen in the distance; her lights flickering, and she seemed to be lifting up and down. "Poor bastards." Was all Wilson said, as he gripped the fixed table.
The storm must have lasted less than fifteen minutes and then the sea was quiet again. Jericho and James watched through binoculars as the old ship appeared stationary, but at a strange angle, in the distance. Wilson pulled out his mirror; "It's 1969 again." Owen leaned forward and screwed up his face; "Do you know, I think she's sinking." James lowered his binoculars and said quietly; "She is, they are getting in the two remaining lifeboats." Jericho placed his glasses down and asked Wilson for the bottle of brandy, he had in his old canvas bag. Owen fetched some plastic cups and Wilson poured everyone some brandy.
"There she goes." James muttered as the old Queen Eleanor slipped from sight. "Did they make the lifeboats?" Alex asked with some real concern in her voice. Jericho nodded - he looked quite grim; this was one part of the job; he really couldn't stomach sometimes. "It won't do them any good; we're miles from the normal shipping lanes. They don't get picked up." He said quietly and sipped his brandy.
She nodded and slipped back into the small cabinet; mostly to hide her tears from her colleagues. That was the first real time she had witnessed the power of the Knights; little wonder 'THE BOSS' picked his Knights with great care: they were just short of being angels. Now, they had to just let the poor bastards die in the lifeboats; so that their souls could be saved from the darkness of real death. That thought did not comfort Alex.
11. INTERVIEW WITH THE ANGEL.
The team sat in relative silence outside the angel's office and Jericho pressed back against the wall; if he had another lifetime, for all the time he spent sitting, waiting and being bored outside Angel Margret's office; he would be well over a million years old! [Slight exaggeration there I think!] He glanced at Alexandra, sitting next to him, and really couldn't refrain from smiling; she certainly knew how to surprise people - even her colleagues - who thought they knew her well.
Wilson sighed and placed his hand on Alex's; "Well, I've always said you had a soft spot for the living, but that was a blinder." He chuckled and leaned back on the marble bench. He slapped Owen with his free hand; "Stop chewing your bloody nails. When did you start that?" He asked and Owen just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we could make up some sort of story...or something." He said to Wilson, who shook his head; "If you hadn't noticed; you can't lie to a bloody angel. It's impossible." Owen grunted and went back to sucking his fingers.
"Sorry boys." Was all Alex said softly and received chuckles and smiles in return. "Using 'The Celeste's' radio to call for help wasn't in the plan my girl. That bloody German freighter was off course by nearly eighty miles, and they picked it up. They should never have been there, but they were. Nineteen men got a second chance at life and that doesn't happen every day. You know damn well that we'll stand with you. Like those bloody overdressed tosser's - the three Musketeers - it's one for all and all for one." Wilson chuckled again and slapped Owens’s hand - again.
Mr. Colgate [the angels personal secretary] appeared in the doorway and gestured for them to enter. They rose slowly and walked into Angel Margret's private office. "Let Jericho do the bloody talking girl." Wilson whispered to Alex as they lined up in front of the angel's large, ornate desk. She was sitting reading a piece of thin glass and glanced up at Team 74. "Nineteen living humans have been returned to the current timeline. By any measure, that must be a good thing; except they all should have passed over. That's bit of a problem, isn't it?" She asked no one in particular.
Jericho looked up and didn't smile; "If I could just explain Ma'am..." But the angel interrupted her Inspector. "Jericho, you’re not under investigation here, nor is Mr. Wilson or young Owen.” She didn’t smile, adding; “Just our feisty Alexandra who does seem to have a problem with following instructions." She sighed and placed the glass sheet down and peered at Alex. "Do you have any logical explanation whatsoever why you did what you did?" Alex nodded. "Excellent. Let’s hear it." The angel smiled a little and Jericho noticed that; he actually relaxed some. "Well, you see Ma'am; I thought that if the ship had been taken by a rogue time portal, then the crew of that old ship wasn't intended to die, they were just...eh, well misplaced. So, when James returned them to their own time; they should still be living. So, they can face their own destiny in the correct time, and they couldn't do that if they were all dead. If you see what I mean Ma'am?" Alex almost smiled; but stopped herself. She saw the look on Jericho's and Wilson's faces; Wilson actually ran a hand across his and muttered something under his breath.
The angel stared at Alex and clasped both hands together on her desk; there was no expression on her face. Finally, she said quietly; "Misplaced? They were misplaced?" Alex nodded and did smile - a little; "Yes Ma'am. Misplaced and we found them and returned them to where they should be." Jericho joined Wilson in running his hand over his face. Owen just chewed his fingers and tried not to grin, due to nerves. "Stop that Owen and don't do it again." She waved a hand at him, and he stopped immediately - and for good!
"Misplaced? Now why didn't I think of that?" The angel sat back in her chair and stared at Team 74. She picked up the glass sheet and then replaced it. "Misplaced?" She said quietly and relaxed in her chair. "So, nineteen souls who were lost - sorry - misplaced - were returned to the current Human Timeline and that caused some changes - agreed?" She asked the team, who all nodded their agreement. "Good, I'm glad we can agree on that at least."
Alex slapped his arm and said firmly; "No." Wilson laughed at seeing Owens’s disappointed face and the team members disappeared back to the lighthouse for dinner. Alex and Owen walked behind Wilson, who was reading his mirror – arm in arm – and smiled at each other. Owen whispered; “Maybe we should take up acting as a career. If we weren’t already dead!”  |
Captain Cole Ward was cleared at the Board of Trade inquiry, over the loss of the Queen Eleanor and the three men who apparently went missing on board, during the fierce storm. He had no recollection of the time travelling incident; James had cleared all their minds of that. He left the shipping line and started a small charter service around the Caribbean Islands with his old friend, the Boson. For years, he occasionally suffered a delicious dream about a beautiful woman that he had never met, but was passionately in love with. He died in 1983 after his charter boat was lost in a storm off Kingstown. His soul was collected and processed.
Boson Philippe Harris worked a few other ships for the shipping company that had owned the Queen Eleanor. But left their service and joined his old friend; Captain Cole, working his Charter Boat Service. He died in the same storm that claimed the captain. His soul was collected and processed.
Second Officer David Roberts gave up the sea after the Queen Eleanor incident and worked as the Postmaster in a small Dorset Village. He married and had two children. He died in 2007. His soul was collected and processed.
Ship's Steward Hugh Dougal had indeed suffered a heart attack; his condition had not been detected by any medical he received, whilst working for the shipping company. He was just 22 years old. Sadly, his soul was not collected; due to him being out of his ordained time period. It remains missing to this day.
Seaman John Ebbs could never understand how he received the scar to his shoulder, but he continued to work on various ships for the next decade, until he finally retired to North Wales and lived out the remainder of his life, in a small cottage by the sea. He never married and died in 1989. His soul was collected and processed.
Chief Albert Freeman was promoted and became skipper of the cargo ship; "The Norseman' and ran cargo between the UK and Scandinavia, until his retirement in 1990. He didn't enjoy it long; he was diagnosed with bowel cancer the following year and succumbed some months later. His soul was collected and processed.
Seaman Reginald Simms remained with the shipping company until his retirement in 1989. He joined the RNLI and went out on several rescues before ill health forced him to retire again. He died in 1994 and his soul was collected and processed.
Seaman Tony Groves was reported; Missing - believed gone overboard - from the Queen Eleanor. His body was never recovered. Sadly, his soul was not collected and remains missing to this day.
Seaman Jim Grieves [the helmsman] worked several other ships before retiring from the sea and ran a small bar in Cornwall. He proved a very popular character and host; the small bar flourished. He married twice and had three children by his two wives and two more by his mistresses. He died in his bed from influenza that turned nasty. His soul was collected and processed.
Seaman George Parish was transferred to another ship of the Shipping Company and served a few more years, before being found dead in his bunk one December morning. His body was removed for burial when the ship reached North Africa. He had no family. His soul was collected and processed.
Captain Joseph Deadleggs [the Pirate] real name Walter Cuthbert Humble and the survivors of 'The Boudicca' were adrift in their lifeboat for some months. They resorted to eating their dead comrades and drinking urine. The captain was the last man standing and died some nine weeks after the loss of his ship. All witness to the strange metal ship were dead; thus, there is no historical record of its appearance in 1757. His soul was collected and quarantined until 2200; as was most of his crew.
The Queen Eleanor wasn't the only ship to disappear in those waters over the centuries. There have been at least three other investigations by Temporal Detective teams in that place. The Inquiry by the Board of Trade, into the loss of the Queen Eleanor concluded that she had floundered in a fierce storm after losing engine power and steering. The three missing men are believed to have been swept overboard and lost. It was accepted that the injured men had been hurt in the storm and subsequent sinking.
One mystery remains unsolved to this day; there is no historical record of a white man on the island inhabited by the fierce cannibals, in the early part of the Eighteenth century. But in 1975, a hurricane struck the island and destroyed part of the old cemetery. Some workman clearing up and reburying the dead, found a stone tomb broken open and the human remains hanging out. It belonged to a certain Senior Jose Felipe who died in 1774. What did prompt some questions was the strange fact, that the skeleton's skull had amalgam fillings; not invented until the nineteenth century! Inspector Dawn Daniels and Team 62 have been assigned the case; there is no resolution yet.
 |
