They easily found the office for the ferry dock, as the directions they received from the guard at the train station took them directly there. Two heavily armed guards crossed their rifles when the trio approached.
“It’s OK, they’re with me,” Victor said, reassuringly.
“Sorry sir,” one of the guards told him, looking uncomfortable.” Our orders prohibit anyone from approaching the ferry today.”
“Did something happen?” Victor asked.
“We don’t know sir,” the man answered a little too quickly.
Lewis watched Victor’s easy going countenance turn hard, as he took a step forward, stopping inches from the guard’s face. “I want some answers, mister!”
The guard paled but didn’t move. “Truly I’m sorry, but I am unable to answer you. The base is north of here, less than a mile, maybe they could help you.”
“Let’s go find out,” Victor said through clenched teeth, as he turned on his heel and marched off.
“Boy, you scared the crap outa that guy,” Fink said when they were out of earshot of the guards.
Lewis poked Fink in the ribs. “Hey, let Micheal handle this,” he spoke quietly, leaning over by Fink’s ear.
“But that was awesome. Did you see that guy shaking?” Fink said. “I’ll bet they knew exactly what was going on and they just didn’t want to tell us.”
Victor spun towards Fink, grabbing him by the collar. “If you don’t shut up, I swear I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Fink interrupted, his face suddenly impassive and perfectly calm.
“Hey, hey,” Lewis muttered, separating them and stepping into the gap.
Victor was shaking with rage, and Fink seemed relaxed, almost limp. Lewis pondered how much back up Victor would have if the two of them went to blows there in the street, and where it would leave him. He turned to Victor. “Come on, he’s a civilian, and he doesn’t know the rules.”
Victor still looked upset, but he continued on his way without saying anything more. Fink tagged along like nothing had ever happened. Ten minutes later they reached the gates of the base. Victor explained to the guards why they were there and what they had come to find out. One of the guards looked at the papers that Lewis and Fink presented, and then he let them through the gate. At the duty office they found an aged cavalry captain in charge.
“I’m Captain Church, what can I do for you boys?” he asked after he closed the ledger he was working on and leaned back in his chair to give them his full attention.
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“Please pardon the intrusion sir,” Victor said, holding his cover in both hands. “But we need to travel to Landee, and the sentries could not tell us why there is a holdup.”
“Slow down son,” Church drawled. “Why do you need to go there? And who are these people?”
“I have orders to rejoin my ship there and resume my duties, also to escort Lieutenant Lewis here to Landee with all haste,” he indicated Lewis “This other man is Fink, he helped us out of a sticky situation in Port Mist. Are you able to help us?”
“It may be that I could nudge you in the right direction. The ferry won’t sail until tomorrow,” Church looked sympathetic. “However, a load of critical supplies is due to leave in a few hours I think. So let’s find out if we can get you a berth on that vessel. I want to stretch my legs anyway.”
The captain had his NCO take his place in the office and led them outside. They walked toward the base’s internal piers, stopping a few times as Church and Victor acknowledged salutes and one time to make way for a general’s entourage. When they arrived at a guard post near the water, Captain Church spoke quietly to one of the sailors on duty. They nodded a few times and then the sailor hurried off towards an office building.
Shortly they were joined by a naval officer, after providing instructions Church bade Victor to explain his situation. The officer listened to Victor’s story, and then thanked Church.
“I’ll take it from here, I don’t think it will be a problem,” he told Victor. “we’ll get you and your friends to Landee.”
He took them to the pier, where they met Lieutenant Nash, a grizzled old shipmaster who walked with a pronounced limp.
“I’m told that I can’t carry passengers, except by written order from a lieutenant commander or higher,” Nash sadly informed them. “You brought me a lieutenant, I’m afraid that ain’t gonna cut it.”
“How long before you steam out of here?” Victor asked.
“Ninety minutes.” Nash answered.
“Nash is by the book,” Church commented after they left the pier. “We might be able to see the base commander on this side,”
They walked for about five minutes before arriving at an office building with a sign that read:
Defenders of Andar
Northern Naval Command
Rear Admiral Slane U.H.
Victor stared at the sign. “Admiral Slane is the base commander here?”
“Yeah, although I’ve never met him,” Church admitted. “But I hear that he’s a reasonable man, shall we find out?”
“You bet,” Victor said, looking more enthusiastic than Lewis was used to. “I read about him, if it’s the same man, wounded fighting pirates. He’s a hero.”
“That’s him,” Church said, holding the door open for them.
“We have an urgent need to see the admiral,” Church explained to the sailor at the desk. “It’s time sensitive.”
“Yes Captain,” she said. “Take the elevator up two floors and you will be in the admiral’s lobby, good luck.”
They were upstairs talking to the assistant when a man in a wheelchair rolled out of a conference room, followed by two captains and several commanders. They were all in dress uniforms and the man in the wheelchair wore the insignia of a rear admiral, upper half. The military men snapped to attention and saluted the group; even Fink stood very straight and looked impressed.