A Quiet Fight – Escape

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Fabio Freitas E Silva | Dreamstime.com – Steam punk vintage computer

Escape

They saw no one on the trip to the roof. Once on the roof, Abigail and Wynn moved a crate to block the door. She pointed to the glider and said, “get a harness on.” She began to take off her clothes with no regard to Wynn. Wynn coughed a little. Abigail did not pause as she pulled off the undergarments, “Surely you’ve seen the female form, Mr. Waynard. Probably in several shapes.” She pulled on the tight pants.
Wynn responded, “Oh Aye…Just never anyone …I was familiar with.”
Abigail fastened the buttons on her jacket covering her chest. “Pity’s for you. I’ve always found friends the best.” She looked thoughtful, “Although the romp with Kaum Legit family was about as fun as you can imagine.”
Wynn stammered, “I didn’t know they…others…how?”
Abigail tapped his cheek with an open hand, “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” She worked over the harness tugging at buckles and nearly doubling him at times. She continued, “You have to know the Kaum Legit before they invite you to any …gatherings. They found my interest in other women more compatible with their own views.” She moved him to the glider and got him strapped in. Whistles started blowing in the yard. She said, “I guess they found Malcolm and Stiles.” She got into the frame of the glider and lifted the frame.
Wynn said, “This will just prove I am guilty.”
Abigail said, “They already think that…except for Monroe. And we need you more than she does.”
Wynn helped lift the frame, “Sergeant Harvey doesn’t think I did it. At least not the barracks part.”
Abigail said through teeth as she adjusted the frame, “How open minded of him.” The whistles were getting continuous and moving to the yard. “No time to practice. If we don’t get off this roof, we crash into the middle of yard. If you scream like a banshee, they will see us and follow us to our landing zone. Understood.”
Wynn nodded and then said, “Yep.”
“You ever cloud surf?”
Wynn’s eyes went wide, “Shit…crazy stuff.”
Abigail turned back and looked at him. He looked sheepish and said, “When business was slow, I may have tried once or twice.”
Abigail shook her head and pulled on her goggles, “Right. Just like that only the ground is only 50 feet away and we don’t have safety gear.”
Wynn grabbed the frame, “Makes this more of a thrill. Are we leaving or are you going to keep lecturing me until someone comes banging through the door.”
“Cheeky bastard.” She made a motion and said, “Run Wynn…Run I said.” The glider made an awkward hopping motion towards the edge. Then Abigail ignited the rocket booster in the back and the frame lurched forward. “Lift your damn feet you damned lunk.” Wynn lifted his feet and the glider seemed to loft a bit. Abigail lifted her and the glider cleared the roof wall and moved upward. There were whistles and shouts and pointing in their direction from the yard. She shouted, “Close your eyes or you will be as night blind as they will be.” Wynn squeezed his eyes shut. Abigail dropped a bright magnesium flare towards the yard. It burned with a brilliant white light as it slowly fell to the ground. Abigail twisted the glider hard to the right and pulled up. She used buildings as a screen while the light fell. The whistles and shouts became frustrated screams. There were occasional rapports of gunfire but nothing was in Abigail’s direction. She circled a bit over the Thames and then doubled back towards Hyde park. The noise of the yard faded behind them as they got over the trees of the park. After crossing the boundary of the park, she circled and began to descend. A meadow became the apparent landing spot and Abigail said, “Loosen your legs for a landing.” Wynn lowered his legs a little bit in an odd crouching position. As they approached the ground, Abigail pulled up the glider and they came to rest at a small awkward trot. Abigail finally stopped and said, “There…that is how it’s done.” She began to unsnap the restraints and pulling off the glider. Wynn followed suit and pushed the glider off with effort. Abigail said, “Help me with this beast. Our ride will be here in a moment.”
With a tired effort, Wynn folded the light cloth while Abigail quickly disassembled the frame into a collection of tubes. He was still wearing the harness and holding the cloth when the wagon rolled up. Stephanie smiled brightly, “You look better already.”
Wynn bowed and then almost fell over, “The sight of such loveliness makes my head light.”
Abigail snapped, “I’ll give you a quiet room back at the cafe.” She grabbed the wavering man and moved to the back of the dray wagon, “Wynn, you are in the back with me. And if one finger strays under the tarp, I will break it at the knuckle. Now get this moving before the bobbies guess I landed here.”
At the back, Wynn said, “You first.”
Abigail knelt and made a cup with her hands, “You nearly passed out from bowing and you still want to be the knight. You can save that shit for Stephanie. I say chivalry is a tool of the patriarchy to oppress women by perpetuating a myth of weakness. Use my boost or I will throw you in.” Stephanie giggled.
Wynn sighed and accepted help into the back of the wagon. Abigail laid the rods in the back next to Wynn and jumped into the back of the wagon. Wynn held onto the cloth from the glider. Abigail laid down in the back and Stephanie covered them over and then got the wagon moving just as whistles sounded in the distance.

Author’s Note

They escape via the glider.  Gliders can be done in tandem. I am not sure how much they can carry, but they can do tandem flights.  Wynn will need more recovery. He is running on adrenaline and that will eventually run out. Look for more on Friday.

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A Quiet Fight – Getting to Wynn

Getting to Wynn

The uniform was hardly practical – the skirt and blouse were loose and would only help fleeing criminals. Victorians are not ready for women dressing as men. There was a set of keys with the parcel of clothes. The pain had passed from her foot, but she was still limping. She would pay dearly tomorrow for walking tonight, but needs must.

She saw her first guard, two floors down. She did not recognize him. She approached quickly and the guard said, “Hoy, what are you doing here?”
Abigail kept her head down, “I was told this was a short cut to the front gate.”
The guard relaxed, “Sorry poppet. You’ve been given a goose run. There’s just cells down this way.”
Abigail brought her hand with the syringe down hard on the man’s neck. He started and hissed, “That hurt, you…” and then he collapsed. She pulled out a flask and splashed a bit on his face and poured some in his mouth. She leaned over the unconscious man, “Poppet me, you ass. I’d break your fingers if that didn’t mess up our story.” She rummaged in his coat for a set of keys and headed down one of the side aisles. As she walked down the cell block she saw Roly Malcolm . Sergeant Malcolm  said, “Trouble, Stiles?” Abigail ignored the question and moved to open the cell door. Malcolm came up snapping, “What the hell are you doing? Ya’ ain’t supposed to open that one.”
Abigail ignored the question and shoved the door open. A weary Wynn Maynard looked at her with a grin and a weak thumbs up.
Roly Malcolmn grabbed her shoulder, “What the hell are you doing?”
Abigail spun around and smacked his face with the key ring. He fell and landed on his back with a whoosh. Abigail fell on with her knee in his gut and he screamed silently as his diaphragm seized in pain. Wynn came out and stared at the fallen gaoler. Abigail slapped Sergeant Malcolm and he wheezed. She said, “Stephanie says you should cripple him. Monroe says she can use him. I say it’s your choice but be fast. The desk nob will take the fall for the escape. You attacked a dutiful officer in the course of escaping. Monroe is going to bend him after this – if he’s useful.”
Wynn scratched his ragged beard. He knelt next to the wide eyed Sergeant Roly and said in a quiet snarl, “Lieutenant Monroe thinks you might be useful so you get to live.” He hit Roly’s face hard and there was a gush of blood from his nose and choked scream. “You tried to kill me. Your boss killed my friends.” He smashed Roly’s hand hard and there was a crack and another muffled scream. Other prisoners were waking up to the noise.
Abigail hissed, “Finish up. Wynn.Kill him or knock him out.”
Wynn leaned over, “you live tonight. Betray me or mine again and your widow will get pieces.” He smashed Malcolm’s face hard and Malcolm went limp. Abigail pulled Wynn up by the gaol garment and moved him towards the door.

Author’s Note

Wynn is finally out… sort of. Now Abby just has to get him out of the complex.  I am definately in a “Just in time” mode. Some of this was typed last night. I have written out considerably so now it is a matter of getting the typing caught up with my writing.

A Quiet Fight – Wynn in the Cell

In the Cell

As Wynn paced the cell, the spy hole opened. Sergeant Harvey spoke quietly. “I am going off shift. Detective Monroe told me to slip this into your cell. She also told me to let you know Roly and Stiles are on the shift tonight. Could you please not hurt them too much?” A parcel appeared in the serving door. “Then find the bastards who burned the barracks and finish them off.”
Wynn took the package and opened the set of clothes and hissed, “What? No shoes?”
The serving door closed and the sergeant said, “Cheeky ass.” Then he closed the spy eye.

Author’s Note

It is a very short entry especially after a break. I have been doing a lot of writing but not so much typing. As my backlog is almost gone, I guess I will need to spend some time typing.

A Quiet Fight – Launch

steampunk-computer

Fabio Freitas E Silva | Dreamstime.com – Steam punk vintage computer

Launch

Abigail assembled her wings at the top of the north anchor of the Tower Bridge. Other than the Clock Tower, it was the tallest structure in London. She had considered the clock, but security was lighter on the bridge and the bride was marginally closer. When the wings were assembled, She donned a helmet and goggles and then attached the wing assembly. She pulled the levers experimentally and the wide wings flexed. She moved to the edge of the ledge and was instantly buffeted by the inshore breeze along the Thames. She smiled, pulled her goggles down and jumped off the ledge.
The first moments of free fall almost caused her to scream like Alice had. Then the wings caught the air and started to lift. She flexed the wings and began to climb. In a circling fashion, she climbed above the bridge and headed north west in a zig zag patter. Below her the streets of London and its sites passed under, dimly lit by the gas lamps of the streets and shops. The night was moonless and a bit cloudy. Once she was over Whitehall and Great Scotland Yard, she circled for a few moments, observing. Bored guards walking along the grounds would not be looking up and her dark clothes and the dark wing would be hard to see even if they were. Big Ben rang in a new hour and a shift change began. The new guards arrived and dispersed across the court. The old guard quickly headed indoors to escape the damp London night.
Abigail waited a few more minutes to let the new guard get settled and then began circling slowly down to the station and gaol. Beatrice had told her which building to land on. She came down fast and landed with and thump and a tumble twisting her ankle. A sharp pain shot up her leg. The wings came off her quickly. She lay on the ground, moaned a little and collected herself.
She cursed a bit. Landings were never easy. She had more than a few in her younger days, but they were nearly always in a field and she simply could roll in the grass. She took inventory of herself. The ankle moved but was pained. There were some cuts and scrapes elsewhere and she would have an ugly bruise on her shoulder. She could move but she was sore.
She pulled out her satchel and found the small vial and her syringe. She had included some medications in case Wynn was hurt. Now she would use the local anesthetic on herself. The shot burned viciously as it went in. She got up and walked back and forth a bit. The pain dulled and soon she could not feel her ankle or foot. Pain dealt with, she secured her wing apparatus and then found the package Beatrice had left for her.

Author’s note

DaVinci had a model for hang gliding so it is not too much of a stretch for Abigail to have one of her own. She imported the tubing which would be the heaviest portion. Getting the silk would be no problem.  I have her landing on a roof. That would be tricky: too far and you fall off; not close enough and you crash into a wall.  That she managed with only a twisted ankle is pretty amazing.

A Quiet Fight – Preparation

steampunk-computer

Fabio Freitas E Silva | Dreamstime.com – Steam punk vintage computer

Preparation

Abigail pulled the gliding wings out of the attic on to the floor. Stephan looked at them and whistled appreciatively, “There is no way you could have smuggled those.”
Abigail tapped the supporting frame tubes, “Like this? Of course not.” She began to disassemble the frame, “But I added some additional couplings. We couldn’t get the frame metal on Earth.” She inspected the shroud that covered the wings, “But the fused silk came from the Orient.” She looked at Stephan, “I’ve glided the Himalayas, the California Sierras, and the Alps.” She folded up the silk, “Once I took off the Eiffel Tower with Alice. She screamed all the way to Monmarte.” She grinned, “After she slapped me. She gave me the most passionate kiss ever. Did you know Parisian moulins are rarely locked and almost always have some nice straw on the floor?”
Stephan smirked and then eyed the contraption, “And if Wynn snogs you?”
Abigail laughed, “He will finish the trip unconscious.”
He looked at her, “The Yard gaol is five stories at most.”
Abigail went up to the attic and pulled down two long cylinders. To Stephan, “Boosters. Not a great solution, but it will help us clear the fences and make it to park.” She examined the deconstructed assembly. “I just need the guards to ignore me. Beatrice has agreed to help with that.”

 

Author’s note

A short entry today. Everyone has heard of the Moulin Rouge. In the Mid 1800’s it was one of several windmills on the outskirts of Paris on the Monmarte hill. That area of Paris was not yet built up much so the moulins were windmills for grinding wheat. All this was before it became a center of avante garde art.