[d20M] League of Extraordinary Gentlemen -- UPDATED 12/4! NOTHING STRESSFUL GOING ON!
- Thread starter Wulf Ratbane
- Start date
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
could it be... an update?
All right you smart-asses... heh...
Let's see what we can do...
Give me 10 minutes of silence to set up the story threads.
Wulf
LuYangShih said:Perhaps "Coming Soon" should be viewed from the Dwarven definition of "Soon".
All right you smart-asses... heh...
Let's see what we can do...
Give me 10 minutes of silence to set up the story threads.
Wulf
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Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
PROLOGUE
Somewhere in London, in the well-furnished, dimly lit apartments of Mr. Campion Bond, cigar smoke drifted lazily through the yellow lamplight like fog on the Thames. Bond frowned; the handsome, athletic man seated before him seemed perfectly at ease despite the pungent smoke. Somehow, Mr. Bond suspected that his guest’s comfort with cigar smoke was more likely gained in seedy saloons than in the company of proper gentlemen.
“They are late,” said Bond, still frowning—though even as he spoke the door was pushed open by a delicate white hand. Ms. Mina Murray stepped into the room, heels drumming, dressed snugly against the night air, and trailing just behind her billowing, ever-present scarves came Alan Quartermain—a man of action well past his prime. They were followed by Dr. Henry Jekyll, nervous and polite as ever; and behind him, silent and stern, came the scourge of the seas, Captain Nemo. They entered the room and fanned out; a beat, and the door closed behind them.
They waited a moment for the broad, massive back of Mr. Bond to turn and face the door. As he did so, he stepped aside, revealing their guest for the evening. Both men were dressed in black, Mina noted, though one look at the handsome face and cool blue eyes of the stranger and she knew the two men could not be more different. The stranger rose as he caught sight of Mina.
“Greetings, Gentlemen,” said Bond, deliberately rankling Mina. “Do not bother to sit as I will be brief. The Queen has need of your services once again. This gentleman is an agent of the President of our former American colonies. It seems they have a problem, and Mr. West here is not up to tackling the task alone. He has been sent to meet you all and get a feel for your talents; however, as time is apparently of the essence, I suggest we dispense with the pleasantries. Sir, if you would be so kind as to lay out the matter before us.”
“All right,” West said. “The renowned scientist and inventor Nikolai Tesla has gone missing from his laboratory in Colorado Springs.” He paused for a moment, but only Nemo registered the slightest hint of recognition, and little else. “His disappearance was rather sudden—he practically vanished overnight, leaving behind many of his belongings, including most of his notes and experiments. The President suspects—merely suspects, mind you—that Tesla’s disappearance may be the work of dissidents within our own military who hope to turn Tesla’s mind from civic projects and towards military uses.
“Frankly this never would have happened under President Grant but…” he paused. “Even so, I doubt the tale is true. Personally, I hope some clue to Tesla’s whereabouts can be found in his notes, but as he is in the habit of encrypting his notes in ancient greek, latin, and Arabic, any clues to be found are beyond my means. I’ve sent an educated colleague to Colorado Springs but, in the meantime, the assistance of such learned scholars as yourselves would be much appreciated.”
He paused to smile at Mina—though to her credit, he noticed, she did not smile back. “Time is indeed of the essence: Wherever Tesla has gone, it is clear that his knowledge must not fall into the wrong hands. The man’s mind is a weapon in itself.”
Bond stepped in. “Barring any questions, you will accompany Mr. West to New York, and from there you will travel by rail to Colorado Springs to scour Tesla’s notes—for clues. Captain Nemo, the Nautilus is prepared for immediate departure.”
Somewhere in London, in the well-furnished, dimly lit apartments of Mr. Campion Bond, cigar smoke drifted lazily through the yellow lamplight like fog on the Thames. Bond frowned; the handsome, athletic man seated before him seemed perfectly at ease despite the pungent smoke. Somehow, Mr. Bond suspected that his guest’s comfort with cigar smoke was more likely gained in seedy saloons than in the company of proper gentlemen.
“They are late,” said Bond, still frowning—though even as he spoke the door was pushed open by a delicate white hand. Ms. Mina Murray stepped into the room, heels drumming, dressed snugly against the night air, and trailing just behind her billowing, ever-present scarves came Alan Quartermain—a man of action well past his prime. They were followed by Dr. Henry Jekyll, nervous and polite as ever; and behind him, silent and stern, came the scourge of the seas, Captain Nemo. They entered the room and fanned out; a beat, and the door closed behind them.
They waited a moment for the broad, massive back of Mr. Bond to turn and face the door. As he did so, he stepped aside, revealing their guest for the evening. Both men were dressed in black, Mina noted, though one look at the handsome face and cool blue eyes of the stranger and she knew the two men could not be more different. The stranger rose as he caught sight of Mina.
“Greetings, Gentlemen,” said Bond, deliberately rankling Mina. “Do not bother to sit as I will be brief. The Queen has need of your services once again. This gentleman is an agent of the President of our former American colonies. It seems they have a problem, and Mr. West here is not up to tackling the task alone. He has been sent to meet you all and get a feel for your talents; however, as time is apparently of the essence, I suggest we dispense with the pleasantries. Sir, if you would be so kind as to lay out the matter before us.”
“All right,” West said. “The renowned scientist and inventor Nikolai Tesla has gone missing from his laboratory in Colorado Springs.” He paused for a moment, but only Nemo registered the slightest hint of recognition, and little else. “His disappearance was rather sudden—he practically vanished overnight, leaving behind many of his belongings, including most of his notes and experiments. The President suspects—merely suspects, mind you—that Tesla’s disappearance may be the work of dissidents within our own military who hope to turn Tesla’s mind from civic projects and towards military uses.
“Frankly this never would have happened under President Grant but…” he paused. “Even so, I doubt the tale is true. Personally, I hope some clue to Tesla’s whereabouts can be found in his notes, but as he is in the habit of encrypting his notes in ancient greek, latin, and Arabic, any clues to be found are beyond my means. I’ve sent an educated colleague to Colorado Springs but, in the meantime, the assistance of such learned scholars as yourselves would be much appreciated.”
He paused to smile at Mina—though to her credit, he noticed, she did not smile back. “Time is indeed of the essence: Wherever Tesla has gone, it is clear that his knowledge must not fall into the wrong hands. The man’s mind is a weapon in itself.”
Bond stepped in. “Barring any questions, you will accompany Mr. West to New York, and from there you will travel by rail to Colorado Springs to scour Tesla’s notes—for clues. Captain Nemo, the Nautilus is prepared for immediate departure.”
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Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
SCENE ONE: LONDON TO NEW YORK
SCENE ONE: LONDON TO NEW YORK
Once under way, Nemo seemed both eager and yet unusually at ease. Barking orders to his crew, he hustled off to his cargo area to begin tearing into boxes of technical equipment.
“It’s here somewhere... You!” Nemo collared a passing sailor. “Run to the comms and tell them to scan every frequency.”
Mina crashed into the room, all hustle and bluster like a rolling wake, and the rest of the group came rolling in behind her like so much flotsam and jetsam. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to contact Tesla.”
“How exactly do you intend to do that, from the middle of the ocean?”
“Electron pulses, modulation of amplitude, frequency... I won’t pretend you could understand my technological devices.”
“And Tesla can?” Mina asked.
Nemo stared blankly. “Assuredly. Now please... Follow me, or get out of the way, I have some modifications to make.”
West cleared his throat. “If Tesla is on the run... and I’m not saying he is... don’t you stand the risk of scaring him into deeper hiding?”
Quartermain agreed. “And if he’s met with foul play, surely they’ll be waiting for someone to contact him as well.”
The group argued back and forth for some time, unable to decide whether to contact Tesla or to simply follow the leads they already had. Eventually they agreed it was worth a try, but the conversation bogged down again immediately. They couldn’t decide what they wanted to say to Tesla. What if other ears were listening, after all? Too little, or too much, either way could make matters worse.
“Look, it doesn’t matter what we say,” barked Mina, “if you simply send it in a cipher that only Tesla will understand. We already know he uses encryption, so we’ll use a mathematical recursion, including three translations, pictographs over phonemes, and at least one ancient language with no known modern analog.”
Griffin removed his glasses and peered closely at Mina. “What the hell... Are you a spy?”
Nemo had finally made the necessary modifications to his ship’s communication array, and ultimately it was Nemo who settled on the simplest, safest message of contact. He wasn’t a man who made his decisions by committee. Not on his ship.
At his command the Nautilus surfaced and he broadcast his message on the highest, rarest frequencies. He cleared his throat, pressed a button on the console, and spoke clearly into a small black grille.
N E E D H E L P ? N E M O
“Is he even gonna know who you are?” Griffin scoffed.
Nemo stood tall. “All true men of science know Nemo.”
“Now what?” asked Quartermain.
“Well,” Nemo said, stroking his beard. “We’ll have to stay on the surface if we want to receive contact.”
“Won’t that slow us down?”
“Depends on the weather,” he said, “but the short answer is, of course it will. I recommend we return to the surface intermittently to check for a reply. In the meantime, I’m going to build a portable receiver that we can take with us overland. If we do receive contact, we can check back with the Nautilus at harbor and...”
“Triangulate,” Mina said. “Clever.”
---------------------
Over the next few days they surfaced periodically, repeated the message, and waited for a reply. They were not far out of New York harbor when, at last, they received contact.
But it was not what they expected.
Nemo’s device was meant to translate incoming energy waves into sound, but all they heard was a high pitched whistling and chirping.
“What is that?” asked West.
The greatest scientific minds Britain had to offer were in agreement on one thing. Nemo looked at Quartermain. Quartermain looked at Jekyll. Jekyll looked nervous and twitched with every ebb and flow of the noise.
“I can tell you one thing...” he stammered. “It’s intelligent speech.”
---------------------
Soon enough, they docked at New York. There was no fanfare or grand welcome waiting for them; their dock was nearly abandoned, save for a small messenger boy who ran straightaway to West.
“Urgent telegram!” he yelled from two paces away. “Urrrrgent!”
West took the scrap of paper and pressed a coin into the boy’s hand.
W E S T.
C O V E R B L O W N.
C O L. M C G E E I N C O M M A N D.
C A U T I O N.
A.
“Something’s up,” West said, handing the impertinent messenger boy another nickel to finally send him running.
“Well,” said Nemo, trundling down the gangplank with his portable scanner. “No time like the present. Let’s see who’s out there today.”
Nemo turned on his receiver. There was a moment of silence, then a loud crackle, pop, and whiff of ozone.
Something appeared on the docks with them. It was vaguely man-shaped, though it seemed more a parody of mankind than any natural thing. It was hunched, mishapen, with long arms and wicked talons. Most unusual of all, it appeared to constructed entirely of crystal.
As the group stood open mouthed, it took a wide swipe at Nemo and sent him sprawling away from his receiver.
Griffin was the first to act as his self preservation instincts took over. He chose the better part of valor and dove behind a stack of barrels on the dock.
West drew his pistol and started fanning shots into the thing’s chest, but the bullets merely glanced away from the hard carapace. Quartermain backed up and started fumbling with his own rifle, his fingers shaking, finally cracking the breach and ramming home two long, impressive looking slugs.
“Oh my...” Jekyll squealed. Something was definitely not right with Henry. “Ohhhh....”
Nemo regained his composure and his cutlass came whistling out and across the thing’s back—to no avail. But he had its attention. It clawed once at him, ripping through Nemo’s ornamental breastplate to the flesh beneath. Crimson blossomed on the captain’s chest.
The creature’s other claw smashed down heavily on Nemo’s electronic receiver and sparks raced up its arm. It seemed to slow down visibly, but it was clearly undeterred.
“It’s after the receiver!” shouted Mina. She leapt forward and pushed hard against the crystal construct. “Get off!”
“Mina, no!” Quartermain lowered his rifle and grabbed at Mina, muttering under his breath. “Stupid woman!”
“HI HO! WOT’S ALL THIS THEN? BIT OF A DUST-UP?”
Jekyll was gone—Edward Hyde stood in his place, eight or nine feet of muscle and degenerate humanity.
-----
Edward bared a mouthful of pre-human fangs in some semblance of a grin and waded into the fight, knotted fists swinging like wrecking balls. He grabbed the crystal construct by one arm and dragged it into his gaping maw, but his other arm slid off the creature before he could get a proper grip. Consequently, his attack did little-at best he managed to chip one of his own teeth on its crystalline carapace.
Either West was pre-armed with knowledge of Jekyll’s condition, or he simply didn’t care, because he continued to fan his pistols uselessly into the monstrous melee. Quartermain also managed to get off a shot-- and yes! A slight crack appeared where the enormous 60-caliber round slammed home. But clearly, it wasn’t enough.
“We need bigger guns,” Alan mumbled.
Mina shouted to the crew of the Nautilus. “The deck guns!”
The crew stood agape, watching the spectacle, until Nemo too took up the call. “Load that harpoon!” he bellowed. He pointed to a colossal cannon-like contraption bolted to the deck. Polished-brass precision-tooled metal intertwined with colorful couplings that slithered back into the recesses of the submarine. It glinted in the sunlight and might perhaps have appeared beautiful, save for the wickedly barbed harpoon the crew rammed into place. There was no mistaking the Nautilus’ deadly deck gun as a thing of beauty.
Save to Nemo, of course.
He smiled with a father’s pride as the crew swiveled the gun into place and put the crystal construct in the crosshairs. A hiss of hydraulics presaged the onslaught and Nemo stepped aside just as the cannon boomed. The harpoon struck the construct full on, cracking it significantly, but ultimately bouncing off and falling to the dock.
Griffin had finally shed his clothes and bravely approached the construct from behind-evidenced only by a small barrel of goods that mysteriously (and somewhat ponderously) lifted itself from the dock and came crashing down on the construct’s head... to no avail.
Unfazed, the construct turned its attention to the most dangerous target it could find. Edward Hyde was soon dripping with his own blood-- a new experience, but apparently not an entirely unpleasant one. He grinned and grappled away with the construct with newfound vigor, trying once again to rend it apart.
Griffin took advantage of the moment. He scooped up several coils of cable from the fallen harpoon and looped it around the construct's neck. Hyde seemed prepared for Griffin's plan, or at the very least he was the first to respond: he pushed away from the construct with all his might. West and Quartermain opened fire again, sending it staggering back a few more steps towards the edge of the pier.
Just as the construct seemed ready to fall over the side, it straightened and regained its balance. Thinking quickly, Griffin grabbed the rope and jumped off the pier.
The invisible man was not slightly built. His added weight was too much-- or just enough-- and the construct toppled off the pier. It sank like a stone into the murky waters of the New York harbor.
Edward shook the blood from his eyes and smoothed down what was left of his vest and shirt. Setting his hat at a jaunty angle, he strode off into the crowd.
"WHERE CAN A FELLA FIND A BIT O' FUN AROUND HERE?"
Though some folks had been mesmerized by the fight itself, the sight of Hyde striding towards them sent them all into a panic. Griffin had climbed from the water and stood glistening like a ghost, laughing while the water dripped off his naked body and women shrieked in horror.
Edward shook the blood from his eyes and smoothed down what was left of his vest and shirt. Setting his hat at a jaunty angle, he strode off into the crowd.
Only then did the rest of the League realize the mayhem around them. Mina rushed to soothe Edward while West moved to intercept the policemen finally arriving on the scene. His holstered guns were still smoking, but it was his federal badge and suave smile, flashing in the sunlight, that caught their attention.
"Nothing to see here," he crooned. Behind his back, he waved Mina past, and she hustled off after Edward.
Mina hustled a few paces for every one of Edward's, but she caught him quickly enough. "Edward!" she cried. Edward rounded on her with a growl, and she quickly lowered the finger she'd been wagging in his face. Instead, she placed her smooth hands, palms down, on Edward's broad chest. Just enough to hold him back.
"Come back, Edward. Plenty of time for fun later. Let's you and I get something to eat first." She motioned him back to the Nautilus. Edward shrugged, and by the time they walked back to the docks, Mina was arm in arm with Dr. Henry Jekyll.
-----
Gathered in the Nautilus, the group looked out of the huge, bowl-like belly port-hole at the construct. It was standing there, destroying Nemo's portable scanner which had sunk to nearly the same spot. Over and over, the creature thrashed away at the equipment. It was beyond destroyed, but it did not cease.
"Net that thing!" Nemo ordered. Within moments, a huge net drifted down over the construct. It flailed its claws at the net, severed a few strands, but was soon hopelessly entangled. Soon, it stopped moving entirely.
Nemo rang his communications officer. "Can we listen to it out there?"
"Aye, cap'n." They watched as an insect-like boom entered their view and slowly approached the creature.
Sure enough, there was the high-pitched chittering noise they'd heard before.
"Tune in the scanner and pipe it down here, too," Nemo said.
The scanner was silent for a few moments while the creature chittered away. Quartermain listened, deep in thought. "I... Gentlemen, I believe this creature is... Atlantean. It should have come to me sooner..."
"Atlantean?" said Griffin. "Great, he can f'in walk home."
Abruptly, the scanner came to life. There was a brief exchange; a high-pitched whistle; and the construct exploded into a million glittering motes of crystal.
"Assemble a crew to retrieve those materials-- all of my equipment, and especially any bits of crystal you can find."
Several crewmembers in bulky diving suits crept slowly through the murk and began collecting Nemo's samples. Nearly everyone looked on in eager anticipation, save for Mina and West.
"This is a dead-end, here," complained West. "I'll have your portable laboratory transferred to my train and you can study it further on the way to Colorado Springs."
"Aye," said Nemo. "I'm eager to see this train of yours, as well. I have heard... stories."
West grinned, taking Mina by the hand and leading her to the upper decks. "I think you'll all be impressed."
"I very much doubt it," grunted Quartermain.
SCENE ONE: LONDON TO NEW YORK
Once under way, Nemo seemed both eager and yet unusually at ease. Barking orders to his crew, he hustled off to his cargo area to begin tearing into boxes of technical equipment.
“It’s here somewhere... You!” Nemo collared a passing sailor. “Run to the comms and tell them to scan every frequency.”
Mina crashed into the room, all hustle and bluster like a rolling wake, and the rest of the group came rolling in behind her like so much flotsam and jetsam. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to contact Tesla.”
“How exactly do you intend to do that, from the middle of the ocean?”
“Electron pulses, modulation of amplitude, frequency... I won’t pretend you could understand my technological devices.”
“And Tesla can?” Mina asked.
Nemo stared blankly. “Assuredly. Now please... Follow me, or get out of the way, I have some modifications to make.”
West cleared his throat. “If Tesla is on the run... and I’m not saying he is... don’t you stand the risk of scaring him into deeper hiding?”
Quartermain agreed. “And if he’s met with foul play, surely they’ll be waiting for someone to contact him as well.”
The group argued back and forth for some time, unable to decide whether to contact Tesla or to simply follow the leads they already had. Eventually they agreed it was worth a try, but the conversation bogged down again immediately. They couldn’t decide what they wanted to say to Tesla. What if other ears were listening, after all? Too little, or too much, either way could make matters worse.
“Look, it doesn’t matter what we say,” barked Mina, “if you simply send it in a cipher that only Tesla will understand. We already know he uses encryption, so we’ll use a mathematical recursion, including three translations, pictographs over phonemes, and at least one ancient language with no known modern analog.”
Griffin removed his glasses and peered closely at Mina. “What the hell... Are you a spy?”
Nemo had finally made the necessary modifications to his ship’s communication array, and ultimately it was Nemo who settled on the simplest, safest message of contact. He wasn’t a man who made his decisions by committee. Not on his ship.
At his command the Nautilus surfaced and he broadcast his message on the highest, rarest frequencies. He cleared his throat, pressed a button on the console, and spoke clearly into a small black grille.
N E E D H E L P ? N E M O
“Is he even gonna know who you are?” Griffin scoffed.
Nemo stood tall. “All true men of science know Nemo.”
“Now what?” asked Quartermain.
“Well,” Nemo said, stroking his beard. “We’ll have to stay on the surface if we want to receive contact.”
“Won’t that slow us down?”
“Depends on the weather,” he said, “but the short answer is, of course it will. I recommend we return to the surface intermittently to check for a reply. In the meantime, I’m going to build a portable receiver that we can take with us overland. If we do receive contact, we can check back with the Nautilus at harbor and...”
“Triangulate,” Mina said. “Clever.”
---------------------
Over the next few days they surfaced periodically, repeated the message, and waited for a reply. They were not far out of New York harbor when, at last, they received contact.
But it was not what they expected.
Nemo’s device was meant to translate incoming energy waves into sound, but all they heard was a high pitched whistling and chirping.
“What is that?” asked West.
The greatest scientific minds Britain had to offer were in agreement on one thing. Nemo looked at Quartermain. Quartermain looked at Jekyll. Jekyll looked nervous and twitched with every ebb and flow of the noise.
“I can tell you one thing...” he stammered. “It’s intelligent speech.”
---------------------
Soon enough, they docked at New York. There was no fanfare or grand welcome waiting for them; their dock was nearly abandoned, save for a small messenger boy who ran straightaway to West.
“Urgent telegram!” he yelled from two paces away. “Urrrrgent!”
West took the scrap of paper and pressed a coin into the boy’s hand.
W E S T.
C O V E R B L O W N.
C O L. M C G E E I N C O M M A N D.
C A U T I O N.
A.
“Something’s up,” West said, handing the impertinent messenger boy another nickel to finally send him running.
“Well,” said Nemo, trundling down the gangplank with his portable scanner. “No time like the present. Let’s see who’s out there today.”
Nemo turned on his receiver. There was a moment of silence, then a loud crackle, pop, and whiff of ozone.
Something appeared on the docks with them. It was vaguely man-shaped, though it seemed more a parody of mankind than any natural thing. It was hunched, mishapen, with long arms and wicked talons. Most unusual of all, it appeared to constructed entirely of crystal.
As the group stood open mouthed, it took a wide swipe at Nemo and sent him sprawling away from his receiver.
Griffin was the first to act as his self preservation instincts took over. He chose the better part of valor and dove behind a stack of barrels on the dock.
West drew his pistol and started fanning shots into the thing’s chest, but the bullets merely glanced away from the hard carapace. Quartermain backed up and started fumbling with his own rifle, his fingers shaking, finally cracking the breach and ramming home two long, impressive looking slugs.
“Oh my...” Jekyll squealed. Something was definitely not right with Henry. “Ohhhh....”
Nemo regained his composure and his cutlass came whistling out and across the thing’s back—to no avail. But he had its attention. It clawed once at him, ripping through Nemo’s ornamental breastplate to the flesh beneath. Crimson blossomed on the captain’s chest.
The creature’s other claw smashed down heavily on Nemo’s electronic receiver and sparks raced up its arm. It seemed to slow down visibly, but it was clearly undeterred.
“It’s after the receiver!” shouted Mina. She leapt forward and pushed hard against the crystal construct. “Get off!”
“Mina, no!” Quartermain lowered his rifle and grabbed at Mina, muttering under his breath. “Stupid woman!”
“HI HO! WOT’S ALL THIS THEN? BIT OF A DUST-UP?”
Jekyll was gone—Edward Hyde stood in his place, eight or nine feet of muscle and degenerate humanity.
-----
Edward bared a mouthful of pre-human fangs in some semblance of a grin and waded into the fight, knotted fists swinging like wrecking balls. He grabbed the crystal construct by one arm and dragged it into his gaping maw, but his other arm slid off the creature before he could get a proper grip. Consequently, his attack did little-at best he managed to chip one of his own teeth on its crystalline carapace.
Either West was pre-armed with knowledge of Jekyll’s condition, or he simply didn’t care, because he continued to fan his pistols uselessly into the monstrous melee. Quartermain also managed to get off a shot-- and yes! A slight crack appeared where the enormous 60-caliber round slammed home. But clearly, it wasn’t enough.
“We need bigger guns,” Alan mumbled.
Mina shouted to the crew of the Nautilus. “The deck guns!”
The crew stood agape, watching the spectacle, until Nemo too took up the call. “Load that harpoon!” he bellowed. He pointed to a colossal cannon-like contraption bolted to the deck. Polished-brass precision-tooled metal intertwined with colorful couplings that slithered back into the recesses of the submarine. It glinted in the sunlight and might perhaps have appeared beautiful, save for the wickedly barbed harpoon the crew rammed into place. There was no mistaking the Nautilus’ deadly deck gun as a thing of beauty.
Save to Nemo, of course.
He smiled with a father’s pride as the crew swiveled the gun into place and put the crystal construct in the crosshairs. A hiss of hydraulics presaged the onslaught and Nemo stepped aside just as the cannon boomed. The harpoon struck the construct full on, cracking it significantly, but ultimately bouncing off and falling to the dock.
Griffin had finally shed his clothes and bravely approached the construct from behind-evidenced only by a small barrel of goods that mysteriously (and somewhat ponderously) lifted itself from the dock and came crashing down on the construct’s head... to no avail.
Unfazed, the construct turned its attention to the most dangerous target it could find. Edward Hyde was soon dripping with his own blood-- a new experience, but apparently not an entirely unpleasant one. He grinned and grappled away with the construct with newfound vigor, trying once again to rend it apart.
Griffin took advantage of the moment. He scooped up several coils of cable from the fallen harpoon and looped it around the construct's neck. Hyde seemed prepared for Griffin's plan, or at the very least he was the first to respond: he pushed away from the construct with all his might. West and Quartermain opened fire again, sending it staggering back a few more steps towards the edge of the pier.
Just as the construct seemed ready to fall over the side, it straightened and regained its balance. Thinking quickly, Griffin grabbed the rope and jumped off the pier.
The invisible man was not slightly built. His added weight was too much-- or just enough-- and the construct toppled off the pier. It sank like a stone into the murky waters of the New York harbor.
Edward shook the blood from his eyes and smoothed down what was left of his vest and shirt. Setting his hat at a jaunty angle, he strode off into the crowd.
"WHERE CAN A FELLA FIND A BIT O' FUN AROUND HERE?"
Though some folks had been mesmerized by the fight itself, the sight of Hyde striding towards them sent them all into a panic. Griffin had climbed from the water and stood glistening like a ghost, laughing while the water dripped off his naked body and women shrieked in horror.
Edward shook the blood from his eyes and smoothed down what was left of his vest and shirt. Setting his hat at a jaunty angle, he strode off into the crowd.
Only then did the rest of the League realize the mayhem around them. Mina rushed to soothe Edward while West moved to intercept the policemen finally arriving on the scene. His holstered guns were still smoking, but it was his federal badge and suave smile, flashing in the sunlight, that caught their attention.
"Nothing to see here," he crooned. Behind his back, he waved Mina past, and she hustled off after Edward.
Mina hustled a few paces for every one of Edward's, but she caught him quickly enough. "Edward!" she cried. Edward rounded on her with a growl, and she quickly lowered the finger she'd been wagging in his face. Instead, she placed her smooth hands, palms down, on Edward's broad chest. Just enough to hold him back.
"Come back, Edward. Plenty of time for fun later. Let's you and I get something to eat first." She motioned him back to the Nautilus. Edward shrugged, and by the time they walked back to the docks, Mina was arm in arm with Dr. Henry Jekyll.
-----
Gathered in the Nautilus, the group looked out of the huge, bowl-like belly port-hole at the construct. It was standing there, destroying Nemo's portable scanner which had sunk to nearly the same spot. Over and over, the creature thrashed away at the equipment. It was beyond destroyed, but it did not cease.
"Net that thing!" Nemo ordered. Within moments, a huge net drifted down over the construct. It flailed its claws at the net, severed a few strands, but was soon hopelessly entangled. Soon, it stopped moving entirely.
Nemo rang his communications officer. "Can we listen to it out there?"
"Aye, cap'n." They watched as an insect-like boom entered their view and slowly approached the creature.
Sure enough, there was the high-pitched chittering noise they'd heard before.
"Tune in the scanner and pipe it down here, too," Nemo said.
The scanner was silent for a few moments while the creature chittered away. Quartermain listened, deep in thought. "I... Gentlemen, I believe this creature is... Atlantean. It should have come to me sooner..."
"Atlantean?" said Griffin. "Great, he can f'in walk home."
Abruptly, the scanner came to life. There was a brief exchange; a high-pitched whistle; and the construct exploded into a million glittering motes of crystal.
"Assemble a crew to retrieve those materials-- all of my equipment, and especially any bits of crystal you can find."
Several crewmembers in bulky diving suits crept slowly through the murk and began collecting Nemo's samples. Nearly everyone looked on in eager anticipation, save for Mina and West.
"This is a dead-end, here," complained West. "I'll have your portable laboratory transferred to my train and you can study it further on the way to Colorado Springs."
"Aye," said Nemo. "I'm eager to see this train of yours, as well. I have heard... stories."
West grinned, taking Mina by the hand and leading her to the upper decks. "I think you'll all be impressed."
"I very much doubt it," grunted Quartermain.
Last edited:
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
SCENE TWO: COLORADO SPRINGS
SCENE TWO: COLORADO SPRINGS
West's train was actually just a single rail car-- but what a car it was. Luxurious accomodations on one end, laboratories and workspace on the other, and hidden gadgets throughout. His car was coupled to the back of a freight train, just a few cars ahead of the caboose.
The group traveled by rail nonstop to Colorado Springs, and from there they took horses into the rugged mountain country to approach the base. The base was in a flat depression between two peaks, and heavily wooded save for an area directly around the base itself. The trees there were flattened-- not splintered or broken, but flattened down against the ground in a swirled pattern, like a child's hand might smooth down the grass-- if the child had the size and strength of a titan, that is. The flattened area had to be several acres across, and in the center stood a tall Tesla coil. The coil stood dormant, surrounded by several smaller outbuildings.
Expecting trouble, they had approached by night, leaving their horses behind and walking the last couple of miles just to the side of the beaten trail that headed back to town. They could see a light burning in only one of the buildings-- the guardhouse. And it was occupied.
They watched and waited for a while, long enough to spot another guard ride by the guardhouse on horseback. He waved to someone inside and continued his ride around the perimeter of the base.
"I got this," said Griffin, already removing his robe and other scant clothing. "Piece of cake."
"Quietly, Griffin!" said Quartermain.
"And don't KILL anyone," said Mina.
There was no reply. Either Griffin was ignoring her, or he was already gone.
"Do we really want to leave him alone with all of Tesla's inventions?" asked Nemo.
"As long as he's invisible," West said, "he doesn't have pockets."
-----
Griffin ran around the perimeter of the compound, staying close to the treeline, and eventually took up a position on a fallen log. From there, he was confident he could ambush the approaching rider. He grabbed a stout branch and held it ready, crouching low to the log.
Soon enough the doomed rider came past. Griffin held still and quiet, and just as the horse stopped and snorted, he swung his makeshift club at the rider’s nose. The guard swooned backwards in his saddle, then started fumbling for his pistol.
"Help!" The guard managed to clear his holster and fire a warning shot.
"F---," said Griffin.
"F---," said his comrades, back at the entrance to the camp.
To his credit, the guard took aim at Griffin’s club. Before he could fire, Griffin tossed it away, laughing.
"What are you gonna do now?" said Griffin, his voice suddenly coming from just behind the guard’s shoulder. "I'll tell ya: You’re gonna die…"
Griffin clubbed the guard with both fists, hard across the back of his neck, and hauled his limp body off the horse. The horse bolted off into the trees.
Griffin thought for a moment about pursuing the horse, but the sounds of stirring in the camp soon set him back into action.
"Let me just get the goods off this corpse…" he muttered to himself.
The guard let out a slow, ragged, breath. Not quite dead yet.
Annoyed, Griffin pulled the guard’s knife out of his belt-- and made him a corpse.
He grabbed the pistol and set off at a low, loping pace for the compound.
-----
The rest of the group wasn’t about to sit idle, not while they had their own chance to throw their ill-formed plans even deeper into the crapper.
"Wait here!" West pulled out his badge and marched into the camp like he owned the place.
"Intruders!" he yelled at the guard emerging from the guardhouse. "You’ve got intruders in the camp."
That was true enough, and the guard had no difficulty believing it. "What do we do?"
"You got weapons in this place?"
The guard nodded, eager to comply and be commanded. "Yeah, we lock em up in the storehouse at night. I got the key."
"Well, let’s go then!"
West tailed the guard out of the guardhouse and into the midst of the compound. They passed a long, low building ("Barracks," West thought to himself, "doors at both ends…") and turned the corner to find a smaller building. The guard fumbled with the key only a moment before throwing the door open and stepping aside for West.
West peeked in. It was a small shed, filled with barrels and racks of rifles. It was close to the barracks, too—only five feet from the other door of the barracks.
"Help me out here a second," he said, entering the building. The guard followed him in.
"Who are the intruders?" he asked.
"Ahh…" West said. Before he knew it, his bluff was unraveling.
The guard looked suspicious for just a moment—then looked past West, his eyes widening in surprise.
A rifle lifted itself off the rack and buried itself, bayonet first, in his gut. He dropped to his knees and screamed. The bayonet twisted and pulled free.
"The intruder!" West yelled, pulling his gun and firing a shot wide of the rifle.
"Help!" the guard yelled. He fumbled his own gun into place and fired his own wild shot.
The floating rifle laughed, and it was soon joined by a floating bullet. The rifle opened its breech, and the bullet floated in. The breech complied, twisted, and slammed shut. The guard’s last thought, as the rifle planted itself against his forehead, was that the rifle and that scheming bullet were clearly in this together.
And Griffin blew his brains out the back of his head.
"Great!" yelled West. "Just great!"
The rifle dropped to the ground.
"You’re the only one in here," said Griffin, still chuckling. "Let’s see you bluff your way out of this one…"
"Son of a bitch!" West slammed the door shut. "Help me out here, Griffin!"
There was no reply. "You bastard!" West struggled to move one of the barrels against the door, decided it was probably gunpowder, and quickly abandoned that plan.
"Griffin, you bastard…" he muttered.
"The bastard’s still here," Griffin said. A rifle floated off the rack, loaded itself, and lay down across one of the barrels at the back of the small room. "Why don’t you give me a hand here and load some of these guns? We’re gonna need them in about… 6 seconds."
"Mina said not to kill anybody…"
"Uh huh."
There seemed to be a whole lot of shouting going on outside. West checked his pistols, and started loading rifles.
-----
After the second gunshot, the rest of the group pretty much gave up on any hope of salvaging what should have been a simple infiltration. Nemo sighed and unwrapped the bundle he’d been carrying. Jekyll couldn’t tell what it was, but from the way Nemo was brandishing the thing, it was clear which was the unpleasant end. Nemo sighted down an array of barrels and checked that each had a miniature harpoon loaded and peeking out.
"Ohh, dear Lord," said Jekyll.
"Easy Henry…" said Mina. "Everything’s gonna be ok…"
"I hope everything’s gonna be ok," she thought. She looked over at Quartermain, who had his own elephant gun loaded and ready. "Just don’t… look, don’t kill anybody innocent."
Quartermain looked at Nemo. Nemo looked at Quartermain. They both looked at Mina and nodded.
Then they ran into the compound, guns at the ready.
-----
West and Griffin had loaded just a few of the rifles when they heard the key turn in the lock.
On the outside.
They were trapped, but West wasn’t about to approach the door. From behind a barricade of powder kegs, he strained to hear the conversation outside.
"… got all the rifles…"
"Colonel’s comin’..."
-----
Quartermain headed left around the guard house. Most of the guards were either looking or exiting through the rear of the barracks, away from him. He crept forward at his first chance, tossed his gun onto the roof, and pulled himself up.
He peeked over the top:
The guards had someone locked in the guardhouse.
Mina was running flat out into the compound, yelling, "Don’t kill anyone! Don’t kill anyone!"
Jekyll was running after Mina’s skirts.
Nemo had stopped to look into the guard house and, satisfied that no threat was at their backs, was now walking slowly around the right side. Nobody seemed to see him—yet.
And there was the Colonel, no doubt, with two shotgun toting guards just behind him.
"What in the hell is going on!?" the Colonel bellowed.
His guards brandished their shotguns: One pointed directly at Mina. One pointed directly at Dr. Henry Jekyll.
Mina, to her credit, was as cool as ever.
Henry was staring down double barrels of death.
Mina slowly edged away from Jekyll, away from the back entrance to the barracks, away from the weapons shed, but most especially, away from the Colonel and his henchmen. She was about halfway back along the edge of the barracks when Henry finally lost it.
"Please... please, don't point those guns at me. I don't like to be threatened..."
"Shut it!" one of the guards yelled. "The Colonel's askin' the questions here!"
"I said... I said... I DON'T LIKE TO BE THREATENED, YOU PUNY F---!"
The guards opened fire on Edward just as he finished his transformation. Even at relatively close range, and with shotguns, their shots weren't terribly accurate-- and understandably so. Henry Jekyll had suddenly changed into a gigantic, raging proto-primate. His huge, gorilla-like arms, tipped in massive claws, lunged for them. One shot went wide; one shot grazed Edward but did little other than to annoy him. He grabbed one of the unfortunate guards, hauled him into his embrace, and pulled his arms off with all the ease and sadistic glee of a child pulling the wings off a fly.
"SHOOT ME AGAIN, MOTHER F-----! GRRRAAAAAAAUUUUGH!"
The other guard didn't have a chance to comply with Edward's request. Quartermain opened fire, blowing the poor fellow's arm off at the shoulder. He turned to run, still in shock, but Nemo stepped forward, and his dark face was like the grim countenance of Death himself. He opened fire with his massive machine-pistol and turned the man into hamburger.
To their credit, the brave men of the U.S. Army rallied to the occasion, rallied around their Colonel. They pulled every makeshift weapon they had on hand-- boot knives and bayonets, broken broomsticks and bedposts-- and piled out of the barracks as fast as they could. Several ran for the front, a few more started piling out of the windows, and some unlucky few barreled out of the rear entrance to the barracks, in the dark alley beside the weapons shed-- where Edward waited.
He took them one at a time and killed them with wild abandon, laughing all the while.
They piled out in thicker numbers, pushing from the back, desperate to get to the melee-- unaware that they rushed like lemmings to their doom. They heard the cries of their comrades, begging for help.
Begging for mercy.
Hyde killed them two at a time. His massive jaws ripped the top off one man's skull, and Edward slurped the contents like a melon, spewing blood and gore over himself and the man locked in his grip. Edward tore him apart, too, and flung the remaining gobbets in several directions.
He killed them three at a time, even as they piled up around him, flanking him, plunging their weapons into his flesh. Edward flailed around him, using a ragged limb-- an arm? a leg? who could tell, now?-- as a makeshift club. The more brutal, the more gory the brawl, the more Edward seemed to enjoy it. He scarcely noticed that he was slowly dying. Certainly, Henry Jekyll would have been dead many times over.
West's pistols barked over the sound of the melee, blowing the lock off the shed. The door flew open and West started firing across the alley, into the press of bodies framing the doorway of the barracks. Just to his left, he could see Edward looming, roaring, dripping in blood.
Quartermain had edged down to the end of the barracks, and standing over the alleyway, he joined West in picking off soldiers. Edward didn't know it, or he didn't care, but to West and Quartermain it was clear that his situation was really pretty desperate. Eventually, the press of bodies started to thin out. West wedged himself in next to Edward and blasted away carefully with his pistols at anybody that made it inside Edward's reach.
Meanwhile, Mina had edged down to the corner of the barracks, when she suddenly felt the cold press of sharp steel against her neck.
"Call him off!" the soldier cried.
"I wish I could," Mina said calmly.
"Call him off!" A trickle of blood appeared on her neck.
"This one lives!" Mina said, looking over at Nemo. "We need a prisoner!"
Nemo's gun was trained on the soldier, but he knew there was little he could do with Mina serving as a human shield.
The guard was baffled at the bravado of the waifish woman. He had little time to suss it out-- the woman, the dark man, the monster-- because a loose fieldstone came floating around the corner behind him, unseen, and splattered his brains out.
"Griffin, you bastard," said Mina. The whole thing was going to hell in a handbasket.
"PLEASE!" she screamed in desperation. "Don't kill the Colonel!"
Nemo responded by opening fire on the Colonel, who had turned to run. The Colonel went tumbling down like a deer. It was a fine, long range shot by Nemo. Of course, any closer, and the Colonel would have been shredded by the tiny harpoon flechettes.
They could hear the sound of footsteps running off into the distance.
"Be right back," said Griffin, chuckling.
"CAN WE JUST KEEP ONE PERSON-- ONE PERSON-- ALIVE HERE?" Mina begged. Since the beginning of the encounter, her standards had slipped and slipped and slipped away.
From his perch atop the barracks, Quartermain watched as Hyde prepared to dispatch the last of the foes around him. He paused for a moment, but his conscience got the better of him.
"Better step away, West," he said.
James West looked up into the eyes of Hyde. There was no mistaking the bloodlust there; he wasted no time backing slowly out of sight, allowing Hyde to finish off his opponents. The raging behemoth vented his anger on the huge pile of soldiers at his feet-- he'd killed a dozen, maybe two dozen, even-- before he finally collapsed.
Nemo rushed to his side just in time to stabilize Henry Jekyll. He finished his work and helped Jekyll to his feet. They joined Mina, Quartermain, and West, standing over the Colonel. The Colonel was just coming around when West suddenly reached out and pistol whipped him into unconsciousness.
"This is unsalvageable," Mina groused. "How do you intend to explain all this? You just knocked him senseless, how do you intend to explain that?"
"All I know is," West reasoned, speaking slowly, "If he's unconscious, I don't have to explain NOW."
"Hmmm..." Jekyll said. "My bag... I have some drugs in my bag, special drugs... They might help us in our interrogation. Of course they might also drive him irrevocably insane... Hmm..."
"Let's question him before we start f---ing with his brain, please." said Griffin.
"Just a little bit of smelling salts, Henry," said Mina. "But let's get him to his quarters first."
They moved the Colonel to his quarters and tied him securely to his chair. Jekyll brought him around for the gruelling interrogation: the layout of the base, any potential traps, the whereabouts of Tesla and his notes, and so forth. The group made themselves at home, sipping tea while the Colonel took questions from them all.
It was all amazingly straightforward. No traps. Nothing sinister. Tesla was simply gone, one day. His notes were in the underground laboratories, still. The group started to get the unmistakable queasy feeling that they'd just slaughtered a whole lot of relatively innocent men.
At long last, it was over. "Anyone else have any questions before we knock the Colonel out again?" West asked.
The was silence for a moment, then the Colonel spoke up, his voice wavering just a bit.
"Well, yes," said the Colonel. "I have some questions. How about you let me go? Who the hell are you? Hell, here's a simple question: How about a spot of tea for me?"
West turned, taking a cup from Dr. Jekyll and handing it to him with a grim smile.
"Colonel, enjoy your sedative laden tea."
SCENE TWO: COLORADO SPRINGS
West's train was actually just a single rail car-- but what a car it was. Luxurious accomodations on one end, laboratories and workspace on the other, and hidden gadgets throughout. His car was coupled to the back of a freight train, just a few cars ahead of the caboose.
The group traveled by rail nonstop to Colorado Springs, and from there they took horses into the rugged mountain country to approach the base. The base was in a flat depression between two peaks, and heavily wooded save for an area directly around the base itself. The trees there were flattened-- not splintered or broken, but flattened down against the ground in a swirled pattern, like a child's hand might smooth down the grass-- if the child had the size and strength of a titan, that is. The flattened area had to be several acres across, and in the center stood a tall Tesla coil. The coil stood dormant, surrounded by several smaller outbuildings.
Expecting trouble, they had approached by night, leaving their horses behind and walking the last couple of miles just to the side of the beaten trail that headed back to town. They could see a light burning in only one of the buildings-- the guardhouse. And it was occupied.
They watched and waited for a while, long enough to spot another guard ride by the guardhouse on horseback. He waved to someone inside and continued his ride around the perimeter of the base.
"I got this," said Griffin, already removing his robe and other scant clothing. "Piece of cake."
"Quietly, Griffin!" said Quartermain.
"And don't KILL anyone," said Mina.
There was no reply. Either Griffin was ignoring her, or he was already gone.
"Do we really want to leave him alone with all of Tesla's inventions?" asked Nemo.
"As long as he's invisible," West said, "he doesn't have pockets."
-----
Griffin ran around the perimeter of the compound, staying close to the treeline, and eventually took up a position on a fallen log. From there, he was confident he could ambush the approaching rider. He grabbed a stout branch and held it ready, crouching low to the log.
Soon enough the doomed rider came past. Griffin held still and quiet, and just as the horse stopped and snorted, he swung his makeshift club at the rider’s nose. The guard swooned backwards in his saddle, then started fumbling for his pistol.
"Help!" The guard managed to clear his holster and fire a warning shot.
"F---," said Griffin.
"F---," said his comrades, back at the entrance to the camp.
To his credit, the guard took aim at Griffin’s club. Before he could fire, Griffin tossed it away, laughing.
"What are you gonna do now?" said Griffin, his voice suddenly coming from just behind the guard’s shoulder. "I'll tell ya: You’re gonna die…"
Griffin clubbed the guard with both fists, hard across the back of his neck, and hauled his limp body off the horse. The horse bolted off into the trees.
Griffin thought for a moment about pursuing the horse, but the sounds of stirring in the camp soon set him back into action.
"Let me just get the goods off this corpse…" he muttered to himself.
The guard let out a slow, ragged, breath. Not quite dead yet.
Annoyed, Griffin pulled the guard’s knife out of his belt-- and made him a corpse.
He grabbed the pistol and set off at a low, loping pace for the compound.
-----
The rest of the group wasn’t about to sit idle, not while they had their own chance to throw their ill-formed plans even deeper into the crapper.
"Wait here!" West pulled out his badge and marched into the camp like he owned the place.
"Intruders!" he yelled at the guard emerging from the guardhouse. "You’ve got intruders in the camp."
That was true enough, and the guard had no difficulty believing it. "What do we do?"
"You got weapons in this place?"
The guard nodded, eager to comply and be commanded. "Yeah, we lock em up in the storehouse at night. I got the key."
"Well, let’s go then!"
West tailed the guard out of the guardhouse and into the midst of the compound. They passed a long, low building ("Barracks," West thought to himself, "doors at both ends…") and turned the corner to find a smaller building. The guard fumbled with the key only a moment before throwing the door open and stepping aside for West.
West peeked in. It was a small shed, filled with barrels and racks of rifles. It was close to the barracks, too—only five feet from the other door of the barracks.
"Help me out here a second," he said, entering the building. The guard followed him in.
"Who are the intruders?" he asked.
"Ahh…" West said. Before he knew it, his bluff was unraveling.
The guard looked suspicious for just a moment—then looked past West, his eyes widening in surprise.
A rifle lifted itself off the rack and buried itself, bayonet first, in his gut. He dropped to his knees and screamed. The bayonet twisted and pulled free.
"The intruder!" West yelled, pulling his gun and firing a shot wide of the rifle.
"Help!" the guard yelled. He fumbled his own gun into place and fired his own wild shot.
The floating rifle laughed, and it was soon joined by a floating bullet. The rifle opened its breech, and the bullet floated in. The breech complied, twisted, and slammed shut. The guard’s last thought, as the rifle planted itself against his forehead, was that the rifle and that scheming bullet were clearly in this together.
And Griffin blew his brains out the back of his head.
"Great!" yelled West. "Just great!"
The rifle dropped to the ground.
"You’re the only one in here," said Griffin, still chuckling. "Let’s see you bluff your way out of this one…"
"Son of a bitch!" West slammed the door shut. "Help me out here, Griffin!"
There was no reply. "You bastard!" West struggled to move one of the barrels against the door, decided it was probably gunpowder, and quickly abandoned that plan.
"Griffin, you bastard…" he muttered.
"The bastard’s still here," Griffin said. A rifle floated off the rack, loaded itself, and lay down across one of the barrels at the back of the small room. "Why don’t you give me a hand here and load some of these guns? We’re gonna need them in about… 6 seconds."
"Mina said not to kill anybody…"
"Uh huh."
There seemed to be a whole lot of shouting going on outside. West checked his pistols, and started loading rifles.
-----
After the second gunshot, the rest of the group pretty much gave up on any hope of salvaging what should have been a simple infiltration. Nemo sighed and unwrapped the bundle he’d been carrying. Jekyll couldn’t tell what it was, but from the way Nemo was brandishing the thing, it was clear which was the unpleasant end. Nemo sighted down an array of barrels and checked that each had a miniature harpoon loaded and peeking out.
"Ohh, dear Lord," said Jekyll.
"Easy Henry…" said Mina. "Everything’s gonna be ok…"
"I hope everything’s gonna be ok," she thought. She looked over at Quartermain, who had his own elephant gun loaded and ready. "Just don’t… look, don’t kill anybody innocent."
Quartermain looked at Nemo. Nemo looked at Quartermain. They both looked at Mina and nodded.
Then they ran into the compound, guns at the ready.
-----
West and Griffin had loaded just a few of the rifles when they heard the key turn in the lock.
On the outside.
They were trapped, but West wasn’t about to approach the door. From behind a barricade of powder kegs, he strained to hear the conversation outside.
"… got all the rifles…"
"Colonel’s comin’..."
-----
Quartermain headed left around the guard house. Most of the guards were either looking or exiting through the rear of the barracks, away from him. He crept forward at his first chance, tossed his gun onto the roof, and pulled himself up.
He peeked over the top:
The guards had someone locked in the guardhouse.
Mina was running flat out into the compound, yelling, "Don’t kill anyone! Don’t kill anyone!"
Jekyll was running after Mina’s skirts.
Nemo had stopped to look into the guard house and, satisfied that no threat was at their backs, was now walking slowly around the right side. Nobody seemed to see him—yet.
And there was the Colonel, no doubt, with two shotgun toting guards just behind him.
"What in the hell is going on!?" the Colonel bellowed.
His guards brandished their shotguns: One pointed directly at Mina. One pointed directly at Dr. Henry Jekyll.
Mina, to her credit, was as cool as ever.
Henry was staring down double barrels of death.
Mina slowly edged away from Jekyll, away from the back entrance to the barracks, away from the weapons shed, but most especially, away from the Colonel and his henchmen. She was about halfway back along the edge of the barracks when Henry finally lost it.
"Please... please, don't point those guns at me. I don't like to be threatened..."
"Shut it!" one of the guards yelled. "The Colonel's askin' the questions here!"
"I said... I said... I DON'T LIKE TO BE THREATENED, YOU PUNY F---!"
The guards opened fire on Edward just as he finished his transformation. Even at relatively close range, and with shotguns, their shots weren't terribly accurate-- and understandably so. Henry Jekyll had suddenly changed into a gigantic, raging proto-primate. His huge, gorilla-like arms, tipped in massive claws, lunged for them. One shot went wide; one shot grazed Edward but did little other than to annoy him. He grabbed one of the unfortunate guards, hauled him into his embrace, and pulled his arms off with all the ease and sadistic glee of a child pulling the wings off a fly.
"SHOOT ME AGAIN, MOTHER F-----! GRRRAAAAAAAUUUUGH!"
The other guard didn't have a chance to comply with Edward's request. Quartermain opened fire, blowing the poor fellow's arm off at the shoulder. He turned to run, still in shock, but Nemo stepped forward, and his dark face was like the grim countenance of Death himself. He opened fire with his massive machine-pistol and turned the man into hamburger.
To their credit, the brave men of the U.S. Army rallied to the occasion, rallied around their Colonel. They pulled every makeshift weapon they had on hand-- boot knives and bayonets, broken broomsticks and bedposts-- and piled out of the barracks as fast as they could. Several ran for the front, a few more started piling out of the windows, and some unlucky few barreled out of the rear entrance to the barracks, in the dark alley beside the weapons shed-- where Edward waited.
He took them one at a time and killed them with wild abandon, laughing all the while.
They piled out in thicker numbers, pushing from the back, desperate to get to the melee-- unaware that they rushed like lemmings to their doom. They heard the cries of their comrades, begging for help.
Begging for mercy.
Hyde killed them two at a time. His massive jaws ripped the top off one man's skull, and Edward slurped the contents like a melon, spewing blood and gore over himself and the man locked in his grip. Edward tore him apart, too, and flung the remaining gobbets in several directions.
He killed them three at a time, even as they piled up around him, flanking him, plunging their weapons into his flesh. Edward flailed around him, using a ragged limb-- an arm? a leg? who could tell, now?-- as a makeshift club. The more brutal, the more gory the brawl, the more Edward seemed to enjoy it. He scarcely noticed that he was slowly dying. Certainly, Henry Jekyll would have been dead many times over.
West's pistols barked over the sound of the melee, blowing the lock off the shed. The door flew open and West started firing across the alley, into the press of bodies framing the doorway of the barracks. Just to his left, he could see Edward looming, roaring, dripping in blood.
Quartermain had edged down to the end of the barracks, and standing over the alleyway, he joined West in picking off soldiers. Edward didn't know it, or he didn't care, but to West and Quartermain it was clear that his situation was really pretty desperate. Eventually, the press of bodies started to thin out. West wedged himself in next to Edward and blasted away carefully with his pistols at anybody that made it inside Edward's reach.
Meanwhile, Mina had edged down to the corner of the barracks, when she suddenly felt the cold press of sharp steel against her neck.
"Call him off!" the soldier cried.
"I wish I could," Mina said calmly.
"Call him off!" A trickle of blood appeared on her neck.
"This one lives!" Mina said, looking over at Nemo. "We need a prisoner!"
Nemo's gun was trained on the soldier, but he knew there was little he could do with Mina serving as a human shield.
The guard was baffled at the bravado of the waifish woman. He had little time to suss it out-- the woman, the dark man, the monster-- because a loose fieldstone came floating around the corner behind him, unseen, and splattered his brains out.
"Griffin, you bastard," said Mina. The whole thing was going to hell in a handbasket.
"PLEASE!" she screamed in desperation. "Don't kill the Colonel!"
Nemo responded by opening fire on the Colonel, who had turned to run. The Colonel went tumbling down like a deer. It was a fine, long range shot by Nemo. Of course, any closer, and the Colonel would have been shredded by the tiny harpoon flechettes.
They could hear the sound of footsteps running off into the distance.
"Be right back," said Griffin, chuckling.
"CAN WE JUST KEEP ONE PERSON-- ONE PERSON-- ALIVE HERE?" Mina begged. Since the beginning of the encounter, her standards had slipped and slipped and slipped away.
From his perch atop the barracks, Quartermain watched as Hyde prepared to dispatch the last of the foes around him. He paused for a moment, but his conscience got the better of him.
"Better step away, West," he said.
James West looked up into the eyes of Hyde. There was no mistaking the bloodlust there; he wasted no time backing slowly out of sight, allowing Hyde to finish off his opponents. The raging behemoth vented his anger on the huge pile of soldiers at his feet-- he'd killed a dozen, maybe two dozen, even-- before he finally collapsed.
Nemo rushed to his side just in time to stabilize Henry Jekyll. He finished his work and helped Jekyll to his feet. They joined Mina, Quartermain, and West, standing over the Colonel. The Colonel was just coming around when West suddenly reached out and pistol whipped him into unconsciousness.
"This is unsalvageable," Mina groused. "How do you intend to explain all this? You just knocked him senseless, how do you intend to explain that?"
"All I know is," West reasoned, speaking slowly, "If he's unconscious, I don't have to explain NOW."
"Hmmm..." Jekyll said. "My bag... I have some drugs in my bag, special drugs... They might help us in our interrogation. Of course they might also drive him irrevocably insane... Hmm..."
"Let's question him before we start f---ing with his brain, please." said Griffin.
"Just a little bit of smelling salts, Henry," said Mina. "But let's get him to his quarters first."
They moved the Colonel to his quarters and tied him securely to his chair. Jekyll brought him around for the gruelling interrogation: the layout of the base, any potential traps, the whereabouts of Tesla and his notes, and so forth. The group made themselves at home, sipping tea while the Colonel took questions from them all.
It was all amazingly straightforward. No traps. Nothing sinister. Tesla was simply gone, one day. His notes were in the underground laboratories, still. The group started to get the unmistakable queasy feeling that they'd just slaughtered a whole lot of relatively innocent men.
At long last, it was over. "Anyone else have any questions before we knock the Colonel out again?" West asked.
The was silence for a moment, then the Colonel spoke up, his voice wavering just a bit.
"Well, yes," said the Colonel. "I have some questions. How about you let me go? Who the hell are you? Hell, here's a simple question: How about a spot of tea for me?"
West turned, taking a cup from Dr. Jekyll and handing it to him with a grim smile.
"Colonel, enjoy your sedative laden tea."
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Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Scene Three: The Great Train Escape
With the unconscious Colonel in tow, they raced back to town. West’s Pullman was waiting for them—but not as ready as he’d hoped. They’d gotten his car through the switching yard ok, but they’d hooked him up with a load of freight heading back east.
“Why isn’t my Pullman at the rear of the train?”
“Well, sir,” the yardman spit, “I didn’t figure yer wanted to be behind that one…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the car full of fattened hogs.
“No time to argue, anyway…” Mina said. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She hustled past the men with the Colonel, a coat draped over his head to conceal his identity.
“Yer friend there gonna be all right?”
“He’ll be fine, fainting spell… ahh….” Dr. Jekyll quickly boarded the car.
“Don’t look to good yerself,” the yardman mumbled.
West took one final look at the train before boarding. Engine. Coal car. Pullman. Lumber. Swine. A line of boxcars and flatbeds trailed off behind.
“All aboard… Let’s get the hell out of here…”
The train gained steam and chugged east, and the group chatted peacefully for about an hour. Mina watched the landscape of the American west sliding by.
“Oh my,” she said. “Are you aware that there’s a man riding alongside the train?’
West dashed to the window. Riding full-tilt alongside the train was a grim-faced, weather-worn man. His lapels flapped in wind but West could see his badge.
“Is that the law?” Quartermain asked.
“Worse,” said West. “He’s Pinkerton.”
“THE Pinkerton?” Quartermain had heard the name before. Detective. Bounty hunter. Take your pick.
“Well, no, at least I don’t think so. But he’s FROM Pinkerton.”
The Pinkerton agent spotted the crowd gathered at the window and hollered over the sound of pounding hoofs.
“Give up the Colonel!” he demanded.
“Can’t do that!” West shouted back.
Pinkerton’s man drew iron and put a shot through the window of the Pullman car.
“The hell with that!” shouted Quartermain. He pulled his hunting rifle down from the luggage rack and began loading.
“Oh, no…” whined Jekyll.
“It’s all right, Henry,” Mina assured him. “We’ve got to defend ourselves!”
“No, look!” Henry insisted. He pointed out his window on the other side of the train. There was a small posse riding along the other side, trying to draw close enough to board the train.
“Well, I guess we know where this is going,” said Griffin. He started stripping off his clothes.
Mina wasn’t happy to see that the train was surrounded, but she was more concerned with what she saw ahead of them: a thick plume of black smoke.
She quickly grabbed Dr. Jekyll. “Come with me, Henry… Get away from the window, it’s not safe…”
She led Jekyll away, but leaned in close to West to whisper in his ear.
“Is there a trestle ahead, by any chance?”
West’s eyes lit up: they’d lose their pursuers there. “Yes! There’s a trestle!”
“Well, not anymore,” Mina hissed. She moved on with Henry, desperate to keep his nerves under control. The last thing they needed right now was a visit from Edward Hyde.
Nemo ran ahead a bit where he could safely get a clear look. He pulled a gold spyglass from inside his jacket and scanned ahead.
Clearly, there’d been some attempt at sabotage, but the trestle was only damaged. Still, it didn’t require his amazing analytical skills to realize that the trestle would never hold the weight of the entire train, freight and all; frankly, without a better look, he didn’t trust it to hold so much as the engine. He ran back to the Pullman and threw open his traveling chest. “Better be in here somewhere… Yes!”
Nemo came up with a small explosive charge and grabbed Quartermain. “We don’t have long to make this work. Do you think you can get to the front and pull the joining pin to the engine?”
“Are you mad? Do I look like I’m strong enough to de-couple the whole damn train?”
“Well, you’d bloody well find the strength somehow! We’ve got to get out from under steam. I’ll place this charge behind us to blow the trailing cars; that will lighten the load up front. The freight should slow of its own accord, and we’ll be able to break our own momentum easier without the engine.”
“This is insane,” Quartermain yelled. “Let me just shoot somebody.” He pushed past Nemo to the back of the car.
“What’s going on?” asked Jekyll. Nervous beads of sweat were starting to appear on his forehead. His eyes flicked from Nemo to Quartermain as he struggled to put together the whole picture.
“Nothing, Henry, nothing stressful…” Mina caressed his brow.
Nemo put his hand on Quartermain’s chest. “Get out, clamber over the coal car…”
“Sure, I’ll just scamper right over it, it’s not as if I’m an old man or anything…”
“…Over the coal car to the engine. Warn the engineer. We’ll handle the coupling back here with this.” He slapped his demolition charge down on the coupling behind the Pullman.
“Wh…What’s that?” Henry asked.
“Nothing stressful going on!” they all shouted.
The posse’s patience had worn out, and shots started to shatter the windows. Henry Jekyll cowered on the floor under Mina’s protective arm.
“Okay, I’m going!” Quartermain yelled. He sprinted for the front of the train and was gone.
Nemo called after him. “Remember! Don’t try to pull the pin until you hear the explosion!”
“EXPLOSION!?” yelled Henry. He struggled to stand. “EXPLOSION?”
Mina and Nemo were flung aside as Henry heaved upwards—all nine feet of him.
“F*CK THIS!” Edward bellowed. He reached down and yoinked the pin. Nemo groaned as the freight cars immediately slid away, his demolition charge still attached to the coupling.
My sentiments exactly, thought Griffin. He’d had enough of the League as well—and to prove his point, he threw his naked body off the train at 30 miles per hour. A puff of dust, followed by a thunderhead of pain-induced profanity was all that belied his actions.
The engine, the Pullman, the posse, the freight, all screeched by as Griffin staggered to his feet, bloodied and bruised, but alive.
“I wonder if the old man will pull that pin after all?” he wondered aloud. “This, I gotta see.”
Griffin raced off after the train.
With the unconscious Colonel in tow, they raced back to town. West’s Pullman was waiting for them—but not as ready as he’d hoped. They’d gotten his car through the switching yard ok, but they’d hooked him up with a load of freight heading back east.
“Why isn’t my Pullman at the rear of the train?”
“Well, sir,” the yardman spit, “I didn’t figure yer wanted to be behind that one…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the car full of fattened hogs.
“No time to argue, anyway…” Mina said. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She hustled past the men with the Colonel, a coat draped over his head to conceal his identity.
“Yer friend there gonna be all right?”
“He’ll be fine, fainting spell… ahh….” Dr. Jekyll quickly boarded the car.
“Don’t look to good yerself,” the yardman mumbled.
West took one final look at the train before boarding. Engine. Coal car. Pullman. Lumber. Swine. A line of boxcars and flatbeds trailed off behind.
“All aboard… Let’s get the hell out of here…”
The train gained steam and chugged east, and the group chatted peacefully for about an hour. Mina watched the landscape of the American west sliding by.
“Oh my,” she said. “Are you aware that there’s a man riding alongside the train?’
West dashed to the window. Riding full-tilt alongside the train was a grim-faced, weather-worn man. His lapels flapped in wind but West could see his badge.
“Is that the law?” Quartermain asked.
“Worse,” said West. “He’s Pinkerton.”
“THE Pinkerton?” Quartermain had heard the name before. Detective. Bounty hunter. Take your pick.
“Well, no, at least I don’t think so. But he’s FROM Pinkerton.”
The Pinkerton agent spotted the crowd gathered at the window and hollered over the sound of pounding hoofs.
“Give up the Colonel!” he demanded.
“Can’t do that!” West shouted back.
Pinkerton’s man drew iron and put a shot through the window of the Pullman car.
“The hell with that!” shouted Quartermain. He pulled his hunting rifle down from the luggage rack and began loading.
“Oh, no…” whined Jekyll.
“It’s all right, Henry,” Mina assured him. “We’ve got to defend ourselves!”
“No, look!” Henry insisted. He pointed out his window on the other side of the train. There was a small posse riding along the other side, trying to draw close enough to board the train.
“Well, I guess we know where this is going,” said Griffin. He started stripping off his clothes.
Mina wasn’t happy to see that the train was surrounded, but she was more concerned with what she saw ahead of them: a thick plume of black smoke.
She quickly grabbed Dr. Jekyll. “Come with me, Henry… Get away from the window, it’s not safe…”
She led Jekyll away, but leaned in close to West to whisper in his ear.
“Is there a trestle ahead, by any chance?”
West’s eyes lit up: they’d lose their pursuers there. “Yes! There’s a trestle!”
“Well, not anymore,” Mina hissed. She moved on with Henry, desperate to keep his nerves under control. The last thing they needed right now was a visit from Edward Hyde.
Nemo ran ahead a bit where he could safely get a clear look. He pulled a gold spyglass from inside his jacket and scanned ahead.
Clearly, there’d been some attempt at sabotage, but the trestle was only damaged. Still, it didn’t require his amazing analytical skills to realize that the trestle would never hold the weight of the entire train, freight and all; frankly, without a better look, he didn’t trust it to hold so much as the engine. He ran back to the Pullman and threw open his traveling chest. “Better be in here somewhere… Yes!”
Nemo came up with a small explosive charge and grabbed Quartermain. “We don’t have long to make this work. Do you think you can get to the front and pull the joining pin to the engine?”
“Are you mad? Do I look like I’m strong enough to de-couple the whole damn train?”
“Well, you’d bloody well find the strength somehow! We’ve got to get out from under steam. I’ll place this charge behind us to blow the trailing cars; that will lighten the load up front. The freight should slow of its own accord, and we’ll be able to break our own momentum easier without the engine.”
“This is insane,” Quartermain yelled. “Let me just shoot somebody.” He pushed past Nemo to the back of the car.
“What’s going on?” asked Jekyll. Nervous beads of sweat were starting to appear on his forehead. His eyes flicked from Nemo to Quartermain as he struggled to put together the whole picture.
“Nothing, Henry, nothing stressful…” Mina caressed his brow.
Nemo put his hand on Quartermain’s chest. “Get out, clamber over the coal car…”
“Sure, I’ll just scamper right over it, it’s not as if I’m an old man or anything…”
“…Over the coal car to the engine. Warn the engineer. We’ll handle the coupling back here with this.” He slapped his demolition charge down on the coupling behind the Pullman.
“Wh…What’s that?” Henry asked.
“Nothing stressful going on!” they all shouted.
The posse’s patience had worn out, and shots started to shatter the windows. Henry Jekyll cowered on the floor under Mina’s protective arm.
“Okay, I’m going!” Quartermain yelled. He sprinted for the front of the train and was gone.
Nemo called after him. “Remember! Don’t try to pull the pin until you hear the explosion!”
“EXPLOSION!?” yelled Henry. He struggled to stand. “EXPLOSION?”
Mina and Nemo were flung aside as Henry heaved upwards—all nine feet of him.
“F*CK THIS!” Edward bellowed. He reached down and yoinked the pin. Nemo groaned as the freight cars immediately slid away, his demolition charge still attached to the coupling.
My sentiments exactly, thought Griffin. He’d had enough of the League as well—and to prove his point, he threw his naked body off the train at 30 miles per hour. A puff of dust, followed by a thunderhead of pain-induced profanity was all that belied his actions.
The engine, the Pullman, the posse, the freight, all screeched by as Griffin staggered to his feet, bloodied and bruised, but alive.
“I wonder if the old man will pull that pin after all?” he wondered aloud. “This, I gotta see.”
Griffin raced off after the train.
Last edited:
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
SCENE FOUR
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