Fourth Vector Ch. 50

The other man was laying on the ground lifelessly. Bancroft felt a flutter in his chest as he recognized the bloody face.

"By god, that is Jack," he muttered just loud enough for Clark to hear. He leaned closer to his deputy. "After all this time, he's in our clutches at last."

Clark didn't respond to that directly. Instead, he turned to look at the fisherman who brought them over. "Have you felt his pulse?"

The fisherman acted like it was some novel idea that he never considered. "Well, no, your honor! We just assumed he was dead."

Bancroft turned to look at Clark. "Go check it, will you? Check his pulse?"

Clark moved with purpose toward the cage. He slipped to one side and crouched down, putting his fingers against Jack's neck. Bancroft waited for several tense seconds as Clark counted before he finally looked back at him.

Clark shook his head back and forth.

Bancroft couldn't help the grin that came upon his lips. He turned back to the fisherman. "You'll be rewarded for this. You'll be rewarded greatly for bringing me to the body of my old enemy."

Seeing gold in his eyes, the fisherman grinned. "All in a day's work, your honor! Can I expect payment in gold? Or perhaps land?"

Bancroft gestured for the guardsmen to release Jack's body. While they were doing so, Bancroft turned to look at the fisherman. "You will get payment once I have secured my place back at the capital. You will leave your name with my deputy here and once we are back in power, you will be paid richly."

The fishermen seemed to come back to reality with that statement. His lower lip pushed out, almost like he just figured out he'd been had. "B-but can I have something now? Any gold with you? After all, you're the emperor!"

"Silence," said Bancroft. "You'll get payment when I have access to my treasury. For now, you'll just have to be thankful that you served your emperor well. That should be payment enough for the time being."

The fisherman looked like he wanted to continue this dispute but it was only after he was surrounded by the remaining guardsmen that he gave up the fight, giving his name to Clark like a docile puppy.

In the meantime, Jack's body was placed on the back of a small truck, the only vehicle that Bancroft was using to get his small party south. The guardsmen would sit with the corpse in the back while Clark would drive.

"Come on," said Bancroft, gesturing to Jack's body. "Let's get out of here. We need to keep moving south."

The two men gestured to the guardsmen to keep moving but it was only once the fisherman began to yell again that they stopped in their tracks.

"What about him?" asked the fisherman, pointing to the other man still in the cage. "He's a traitor too! Do you want his body as well? I can sell him too!"

Bancroft took a long look at the man still left in the cages. He was obviously Javan by appearance, but he had the same kind of grit and determination that told Bancroft he was one of the many Javans that had gone over to Easterbrook's side years ago.

"Let him rot," said Bancroft, staring down at the man. "We have what we need."

With those final words, Bancroft climbed back into the truck while the guardsmen climbed into the bed. Clark turned on the lights now that it was getting darker and soon, the Emperor of Java was moving south again, the body of his long-time foe just behind him.

Perhaps this day wasn't a total loss after all?

*****

Around the same time as Jack and Cory's escape attempt was being foiled, rescue efforts aboard the Visby were coming to a close. In the preceding twelve hours, the ship had worked around the clock to locate all the survivors from the battle, but most notably those from the Destiny. Joined by the Valiant, they combed the seas and managed to rescue a good number of survivors, including Abigail and Kyle from the senior officers.

Unfortunately, there had been no sight of Jack alongside a handful of other sailors by the time midday came around. By that point, Kat and Russ had been forced to admit that the best likelihood for finding him lay with the small fishing communities along the coast.

"We'll find him, Kat, I promise you that," said Russ after the last launch boat was pulled in. "It's only a matter of time. We know he's still alive, don't we?"

"Barely," muttered a very haggard Kat, who'd managed to get only a small amount of sleep over the night. "I can still feel the bond but it's very weak. Incredibly weak, Russ."

He nodded, knowing the same feeling that she had. "We'll find him," he repeated. "And at least there's good news from the army. Greg and Ambros are reporting that Bancroft's army has broken. The Javans are now retreating to the south in complete disarray."

That news should have been a cause for celebration, but until Kat knew where Jack was, she could only manage a very brief smile.

"I'm going to go check on Abigail," she said. "I want to make sure she's doing all right."

In actuality, she just wanted to be in the other woman's presence. Abigail was the only other person who knew the pain she was in right now, as well as being her next closest link to Jack.

She found Abigail recuperating in one of the officer's rooms on the Visby, which had been given over to her to stay in once she was bandaged up from the infirmary. Abigail's wounds were relatively light, the biggest question about her injuries was whether they had affected the baby at all.

And judging by the doctors aboard the ships, the baby had emerged unscathed through the fight--a great relief to everyone.

Abigail had been getting some rest in her bed but she turned toward the door as soon as Kat entered. One look at Abigail's face told Kat that she hadn't been getting any rest whatsoever.

"Can't sleep?" she asked Abigail upon entering the room.

Abigail shook her head. She moved to sit upright in bed, letting the blanket fall away from her body. She was wearing only a simple tank top, and Kat could still see the bandages on her back, where she'd taken the brunt of the explosion.

"Can you blame me?" asked Abigail once she was sitting. "I can't do anything without thinking about Jack. I don't know anything about where he is. I don't even have the stupid bond that you have to tell me whether he's alive or dead."

With those words, Abigail broke down and started to cry. Kat crossed the distance toward her sister-wife and wrapped her arms around her.

"I know we're going to find him," said Kat, soothing the other woman's hair. "Russ thinks he's been picked up by the fishing villages along the coast. That's our best chance of finding him, especially now that the battle is over and we can move the army south."

Abigail gave her a worried look. She had heard the news with the rest of the fleet about a half hour earlier, and it changed many of the assumptions regarding finding Jack.

"That's what's really bothering me right now," said Abigail. "What if he's been picked up and brought back to one of those Javan villages? The Javan countryside is going to be swarming with soldiers now, especially since that army was broken. Raving bands of Javan soldiers will be all over the place, and they are going to turn nasty if they encounter any Western prisoners or survivors."

"We can't think about that right now," replied Kat. "I know it's hard not to but as long as Jack is alive, we have to hold out the hope that he'll stay alive."

"As well as finding him as fast as possible," said Abigail. "Which is why I think we need to transfer back to land."

Kat gave her a confused look. "Transfer back? Right now?"

Abigail nodded. "If our army starts to move south, I think they'll have a better chance at finding him. We're going to be limited with what ground we can search here. Especially if Bancroft's army has been defeated, we can fan out our forces and find Jack quicker. But I think we need to be on land to help coordinate that."

What Abigail was saying made sense to Kat, especially given how the search aboard the Visby was now called off. If they were going to find him, it seemed smarter to be with the army now so that they could lead those efforts.

Kat nodded. "We can transfer back as soon as you're ready. I'm ready to go when you are."

Abigail put a determined look on her face. "Just help me put my naval jacket back on and I'll be ready."

*****

It only took a little more than two hours for the two women to transfer to land and link up with the Western Army, now situated inside the town of Mobust, but looking like it was ready to move out. Greg and Ambros had shifted their headquarters to the town once the Javan Army broke, shortening their lines while preparing to go after their defeated foes.

Inside the main command tent, Kat and Abigail found Ambros, Greg, Vera, Santino, and Aedan discussing their options. Upon sight of the two Galicians queens, Vera quickly crossed the distance and hugged them tightly.

"Any word?" she asked, turning her tear-streaked face toward the two women. Nobody needed to clarify what Vera was awaiting word on.

"Not yet," said Kat, shaking her head. "He's still out there though. We just know it."

"Not at sea though?" asked Greg. "I take it that's why you've come back here to Mobust?"

"Russ has called off search efforts," said Abigail. "We've recovered everyone we can from the waters off the coast, but there's still a chance he could be with one of the small Javan fishing towns along the coast. We're better off turning our focus there."

"At least we can do so with no resistance in front of us," said Ambros. "By all reports, I have Javans fleeing in just about every direction but north. They are running as fast as they can to try to put distance between us and them. The gods only know where Bancroft is. So far, we have no report of what he's done after the battle, even after we picked up their commanding general."

"Commanding general?" asked Abigail.

"A man by the name of Scott Menard," said Greg. "He was picked up just a little bit ago, trying to organize a defense with some nearby Javan troops. The troops saw us coming and they panicked, running away from the scene. In doing so, they left Menard to fight on his own. I never thought I'd see the day that Javan arms were in such terrible condition."

Ambros added onto that statement. "We have men talking with him right now but the gist of the situation is that he doesn't know what happened to Bancroft either. He reports that he was with Bancroft this morning and pleaded with him to pull back their overextended army--something Bancroft wouldn't do. No surprises there by what we know of the man. Anyway, once the army broke, Bancroft went south with a small portion of his forces. We're not entirely sure how large they are but we can assume he's out there somewhere with the remnants of his broken army."

"And he could still be dangerous," said Greg. "No matter if he has twenty men or two thousand, we can be assured that Bancroft isn't going to go down without a fight. He'll fight to the death to stay out of our hands, and it's likely he's going to make for the only safe place he can find in an attempt to regroup."

"Do we know where he's most likely to go?" asked Aedan. "Belfort is lost to him, correct? The Tyroleans are approaching west. He's running out of land with which to run to."

Greg looked at the map. "Right now, we can assume every city of size from here to Belfort could be an option. I doubt he'd go into Thessaly. He's hated there as much as he is in Tyrol. He'll look to stay in Java proper, but I think it's important that we spread out the army in groups of regiments to cover as much ground as possible. That way, we'll be doing our best to find Jack at the same time."

"I hate to even suggest this but what if we find Jack and Bancroft in the same place?" asked Santino. "Surely that doesn't bode well for the cause."

Everyone gave Santino the same look. It was something like an angry glare for even suggesting what he did. Greg was the first to respond to that particular question.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said quietly. "Because if it does, Jack is going to be in a world of trouble."

*****

That evening, the truck that carried Java's emperor as well as the emperor's greatest enemy stopped a short distance away from the sea. It had been moving all day, although it hadn't made much progress south. Part of the reason why was because the truck had crushed some broken glass on the road on the way south, leading to a flat tire that delayed them for hours before they could find the tools to change it.

For that reason, the small convoy prepared to bed down from the night a little ways from the road, using the three guardsmen as security while both Bancroft and Clark tried to decide what to do with themselves.

With daylight failing, Bancroft was the first to retire, using the truck bed as his sleeping quarters for the evening. While it wasn't the palace in all its opulence, it certainly beat sleeping on the ground.

For the most part, Clark had been given responsibility for Jack's body, and he moved it out of the truck bed and right next to a small fire that he'd started before turning in.

Of all people, Clark seemed to be the least surprised when Jack actually made a noise, showing the first signs of stirring about an hour into his fire. Clark watched the man come to, his eyes opening and trying to adjust to his new surroundings.

"You might want to keep quiet," said Clark quietly, still staring into the flames. "Bancroft thinks you're dead. From my understanding, you've had a lot of experience at playing possum recently."

Jack pivoted his head around to look at the truck. From there, he could see two of the guardsmen keeping a close eye on the truck while the third circled the grounds. By appearance, it looks like Jack was alone with this man, and he was soon squinting his eyes to see who it was.

"Admiral Jason Clark," muttered Jack under his breath. "I haven't seen you in a long time."

Clark didn't even bother to look at him. "And no doubt it was under better circumstances."

Jack causally craned his head and looked back toward the truck. "Why does he think that I'm dead?"

"You've been unconscious for most of the second half of the day," said Clark, using a stick to push some wood deeper into the fire. "From what I've been told, you tried to escape from some fishermen a few villages back."

At that moment, Jack remembered the feeling of the rifle butt against his face. He remembered trying to get away with Cory before being surrounded.

"What happened to Cory?" asked Jack, a hole forming in his stomach. "Is he still alive?"

Clark shrugged. "I'd assume so. We left him with the fishermen. He certainly didn't like it when we took you away. That's not exactly surprising though, is it?"

"I suppose not," said Jack, clearing his throat quietly before looking around for something to drink. It had been almost a full day since he'd had any kind of water, and he was beginning to feel the effects of going without.

Clark seemed to notice his predicament and tossed a small canteen toward him.

"Drink up. You'll need your strength for the journey ahead."

Jack took several big gulps, letting the water overflow out the sides of his mouth before stopping. The water was almost too good after a full day without.

"You still didn't answer my question," said Jack once his throat was clear. "If you know that I'm alive, why doesn't Bancroft?"

For the first time, Jack saw a gap in Clark's armor. The older man sighed as he chose his words carefully.

"One way or another, he'll find out eventually," said Clark who finally turned to look at him. "Whether you're alive or dead is of little matter to him. Not where we're going."

"Where are we going?"

"To the south," answered Clark. "To the city of Corsham. Ever been there?"

To Jack, Corsham was a backwards city in the hinterlands, a good distance from the cosmopolitan capital city of Belfort. It was the next city of any size that would be reached in the journey south, and Jack supposed it was only natural to head that way.

"Can't say that I have," said Jack. "Although the name is familiar to me."

Clark actually chuckled. "It's where Bancroft was born. He grew up there, all those years ago. He's probably the only man of prominence to ever come from Corsham, and after he became emperor, they rushed to rename many of the streets after him."

"It's fitting then that he'll go there," said Jack. "After all, it might be the only city that still recognizes him as the emperor after today."

Clark shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "The events of today were unfortunate. Many good men died, and a good many of them ran when they should have stayed and fought. A pity for them that the fate of the empire weighs on their shoulders." Clark grunted and pushed another log into the fire. "But it's of no consequence to the Emperor. After all, Corsham represents a second chance for him."

Jack shook his head in confusion. "Second chance? How could he possibly hope to have a second chance?"

"The people of Corsham will be loyal to Bancroft. He hopes to display your body, alive or dead, to the good people of the city and use it as a base of operations to reconstitute what's left of his army."

Clark found new vigor in his speech after he saw the look of disbelief on Jack's face.

"You may think it hopeless but you forget that Zander's army is still coming up from the south. There are a good ten to fifteen thousand men with him. If that army can be used as a nucleus, there's a good chance this shattered army in the north can reinforce them."

Jack shook his head. "Then he's completely mad then. This army that was shattered today will not continue to fight for him. They were barely older than kids anyway. Most of them probably just want to get home to their parents, not raise yet another banner for a lost cause."

Clark glared at him. "The cause is not lost, Jack. As long as Bancroft is still alive, there's still a chance."

"You're dreaming, Admiral," replied Jack. "Even if you could count on assembling an army in Corsham, my army isn't far behind. They are going to push south until they take Belfort, ending the war. He wouldn't even get a chance to assemble forces before he'd be pushed out."

Clark raised his chin. "Corsham can be easily fortified. It's in a naturally defensive position."

Jack chose not to argue with him. It seemed that Clark hadn't changed a bit from the man that Jack always knew--loyal, yet stubborn.

Even still, there was a hint of bitterness in Clark's words. Almost like he hated the path that needed to be walked, but did so only out of necessity.

At that moment, Jack saw an opportunity, albeit a small one. Clark held much of the fate of the war in his very hands.

"You don't have to keep following him," said Jack quietly, never once referring to Bancroft by name. "His end doesn't have to be your end."

Clark stiffened visibly and looked at Jack out of the corner of his eye. "What are you talking about?"

"Just think about this, will you? I know you're a smart man so you'll know that my logic is true. Bancroft is finished. Even if he gets to Corsham and displays my body as a symbol to rally a new army, he'll never get the chance. He'll be caught, defeated, and killed by my Western Army once it arrives. He's played his last card and it didn't work out for him. That's the reason why he's here with only you and three other guardsmen. You're the last people who still believe in him."

Clark grunted under his breath but said nothing in return. Jack continued.

"You're a good man, Jason Clark. You've served as his number two man longer than most people have been alive. You've always been the deputy, the servant, the man behind the scenes. Has Bancroft always rewarded you for your sacrifice? Does he even respect what you've done for him? What you continue to do for him?"