A cold flash of fear washed through Drex as Greg’s words sank in. “Arrest me?” He raked a hand though his too-long hair. “How? I’ve been so careful.”
“A bloody anonymous note. Less than an hour ago,” Greg panted. “I was with Manchester when a messenger delivered it. He hasn’t had much time to prepare.”
Another chill coursed through Drex. He lifted his fingers to his mask. “And my identity? Does he know that, too?”
Greg shook his head. “The note didn’t disclose your name, thank God. But you cannot breathe easy yet. Your escapades on the high seas are practically legend.” Greg scoured the dock with a worried gaze. “You’re an embarrassment the Admiralty wants eliminated. Make no mistake, Manchester will go to any lengths to see you hang.”
“Damn it!” Drex scanned the docks of the East India Company, panic gnawing at his gut. “I’ve got to get out of the harbor. Manchester can trap me too easily here.”
Greg held out his hand. Drex shook it, then pulled his friend into a brotherly hug.
“Godspeed, and be careful.” Face tense, Greg stepped away.
Drex clasped his friend’s shoulder in reassurance. “Thank you for everything. I’ll be in touch.”
After a nod, Greg sprinted down the gangplank. Drex watched him go with a curse. All his plans were ruined now. The Admiralty knew of his presence and Lady Christina had disappeared. What else could go wrong?
Drex turned and shouted, “All hands! Up anchor, ahoy!”
-21-
Shelley Bradley
Men of all sizes and ages sprang to his bidding in seconds. Some turned the heavy capstan, raising the anchor. Others climbed rigging and unfurled the headsails against the breeze. A few trimmed the remainder of the sails, while more experienced hands swung the foreyards about to their sailing positions.
“Hurry!” he whispered to the stationary ship seconds later. “Move your wooden ass out of here.”
Finally, the vessel succumbed to the pressure of the breeze and the bow tipped into the water. The Dragon’s Lair was away.
The frigate gained by mere feet, at a pace even a snail would be ashamed of.
The mouth of the East India harbor yawned before him, the far-reaching chasm wide open. Beyond that lay the Thames and freedom. But other vessels, schooners, barks, brigantines floated in the still water, scattered around him.
Few flew an identifying flag. Drex prayed none were the Royal Navy, lying in wait to surround him and his crew.
He glanced up at the gray, cloudless sky. Where had this morning’s stiff breeze disappeared to?
Minutes ticked away; The Dragon’s Lair crawled through the water. Drex paced the deck, observing the still around him with trepidation. Where were the boys in blue hiding?
From the aft crow’s nest, his crewman Davie boomed, “Look, Captain!
Behind us. Limeys!”
Drex whirled to find a sea of blue-jacketed sailors marching double-time past a warehouse—and up the docks toward him. From his spyglass, Drex saw their stern captain in a stiff-backed stride leading soldiers who carried Brown Bess rifles, exactly like those in his hold. Drex knew what the lethal weapons could do in the hands of men trained to use them.
His friend and first mate, Hancock, stood beside him on the quarterdeck.
“What’ll we do, Cap’n? Shoot èm?”
Drex paused, watching the Navy men swarm aboard dinghy after dinghy, then push from the dock. They rowed in unison, each dip of their oars bringing them toward The Dragon’s Lair.
-22-
The Lady and the Dragon
“Not yet.” He shouted to the crew, “Ready your rifles, but hold your fire.
Load the cannons and listen for my call. Start a starboard tack into that breeze and keep at it!”
“Aye,” the men shouted as one.
“We’ll outrun those limey bastards,” cried another.
Hancock turned away. The British continued their advance.
Sweat broke out across Drex’s back as he stood stock still, fists clenched, while The Dragon’s Lair inched across the water in a right-facing glide. Off the larboard side, the British sailors rowed toward him, each strong arm in synchronicity.
He could see the fear in one sailor’s wide eyes, the awe in another’s gaping mouth, as they confronted a notorious adversary.
None of those faces belonged to Ryan.
On the Navy Captain’s square countenance, Drex read confidence in his smile of anticipation. The man sensed victory, and, as the half dozen small boats pitched and glided closer, Drex feared the captain’s instincts were correct.
The first dinghy bumped the frigate’s side. Then another. Uniformed men from each small boat reached for a rope and hook. Once thrown, the sailors would board The Dragon’s Lair and fight. If victorious, they would capture every man aboard. Drex had no illusion about their punishment; he and all his crew would die. His heart banged against his chest when he thought of the grisly manner in which the British killed men they considered traitors.
He shouted to his crew, “Take aim at any man in a blue coat.”
The rag-tag bunch of men rushed to the rail, rifles poised for battle.
Drex hesitated, then raised his own rifle. “Fire!”
The kick of the weapon set him back a step while explosion after explosion rent the air. A British sailor fell back into the boat, clutching his arm. Another, with a ball though his head, fell into the water with a final splash. Drex swore.
The Navy Captain, chest heaving, screamed orders at his men, who scrambled for their weapons. Drex noted with grim satisfaction the efficiency with which his own crew reloaded.
-23-
Shelley Bradley
Hearing the clink of a metal hook against the rail above the bow, Drex spun. As a sailor swung over the side, he raised his weapon and pointed it at the intruder. When the man hopped on deck, the barrel of Drex’s rifle greeted him.
Another volley of explosions sounded. The scents of gunpowder and blood mixed with salt in the pungent sea air.
“Do you want to die?” Drex asked the young sailor.
The man swallowed. “N—no, sir.”
A blessed gust of wind seized the air, filling the Lair’s sails. The frigate surged forward. Drex saw the Navy’s dinghies struggle against the gale. Relief slid through him.
The wind showered Drex with cold sea spray. “Dive over the side and tell them I pushed you.”
The wide-eyed boy hesitated an instant before leaping over the railing and into the harbor.
Drex lowered his gun with a sigh and kicked the hook into the water. He was getting too damn sentimental for life at sea.
The wind kicked up again in a reassuring gust. Drex whooped in triumph as relief slid through him like hot syrup. By damn, they were going to outrun the British.
“Cap’n!”
Fighting the gust carrying the Lair even further from the Navy boys, Drex whirled to find Hancock striding his way. His friend wore a giant grin. “We made it! And only three men hurt. Don’t worry none; ain’t more than scratches.”
Eyeing the British dinghies, now looking much smaller as his frigate coasted forward, he asked, “How many of theirs dead? Two?”
“Four, I think.”
Drex grunted, his lips pursed with regret. “Another offense Manchester will hang me for if he catches me.”
Hancock nodded silently.
-24-
The Lady and the Dragon
With a wave and a “Carry on,” Drex strode to the quarterdeck to take the helm and scan the horizon for more surprises. As if this day hadn’t hurled enough surprises at him already.
Damn! Who could have written Manchester an anonymous note? No one else but Greg knew of his recent activities in London. Had he been followed?
Perhaps, but why an anonymous note? Did he have a traitor in his midst?
Drex shook his head tiredly. This facade of the Black Dragon was becoming increasingly complicated. It had started simply; he chased and boarded British warships by catching them off-guard at night. After searching the crew and not finding Ryan, he set the men in dinghies with food and fresh water, then burned the ship. Tidy and effective, with no loss of life.