The Baltic War(245)

To his relief, he saw that Stephen Hamilton was coming through the gate.



"What the bloody hell is taking so long with Wentworth?" he half-shouted. "The soldiers'll be rallying any moment."



Cromwell nodded. "What I figured."



Hamilton glared at him. "And what are you doing here?"



"I believe I owe the man a debt, of sorts. Seeing as how I had him executed once, in another universe." And with that, Cromwell passed through the door.



Andrew stared at Hamilton. After a moment, with a rather odd look on his face, Stephen shrugged. "It makes sense, you know. If you look at it the right way."





"He just sits there. Won't move, won't say anything." William Short shook his head. "We haven't known what to do."



Cromwell moved around William and his brother, leaned the halberd against the fireplace, and came to face Wentworth. The earl of Strafford was slumped in a chair by the fireplace, looking very haggard, as if he'd barely slept that night. Which was probably the case, in fact.



"Thomas," Cromwell said gently. "Look at me."



Wentworth's eyes came up. Cromwell extended his hand.



"In how many worlds can you serve the same faithless king? Be it a hundred, Thomas—be it a thousand—he'll betray you in every one. Come, man. Let's try it a different way."



After a couple of seconds, hesitantly, Wentworth extended his own hand. Cromwell took it and drew him to his feet.



"Elizabeth," the earl of Strafford murmured. "My children."



"They're already on the barge," said Hamilton, who'd come into the chamber. "Now, let us go."





They had to pass through gunfire on the way. But it was just matchlocks, fired at too great a range—and fired too hurriedly, at that. By now, the savage marksmanship of Donald and Sherrilyn had taken its toll on the Tower's mercenaries. And they all knew that to climb onto the Outer Wall was nothing but a death sentence.





"Okay, listen up, everybody!" Harry bellowed, once the barge cast loose and had gotten well out into the Thames. He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. "Once we get out of London, we'll be coming alongside that small boat following us that none of you should be looking at right now even though I'm pointing to it myself. Just take my word for it. We'll do the switch then. So, Gayle—you and Oliver and Darryl and Vicky and Stephen make sure you're ready to go. Four people will be switching the other way, too."



He lowered his hand and planted it on his hip. Then, made a flourishing gesture with his other hand.



"For the moment, ladies and gents and kiddies, just relax and enjoy your cruise on the lovely Thames. The show is about to begin. Maestro Gerd, take it away!"



Melissa had been staring at the ruins they'd left behind of what had once been St. Thomas' Tower. Except for possibly the Bloody Tower and the White Tower, it had been the most famous part of the world-famous Tower of London. Her face seemed gaunt. Now, hearing Harry's last words, her head came snapping around.



"What are you talk—"



"And one!" cried Gerd gleefully, triggering the detonator. Less than a mile upstream, a goodly part of London Bridge was suddenly engulfed in smoke.



Melissa half-rose from her seat. "My God! You blew up London Bridge!"



"Nah," said Harry, waving his hand dismissively. "That's just the smoke bomb—"



"Stink bomb, too!" interjected Jack Hayes eagerly.



"—that we set off first. Make sure there's nobody around."



Melissa was just gaping at the sight of the bridge. Her face, pale by nature, now looked as white as a sheet.



After ten seconds or so, her head jerked, as if something had finally registered. "What do you mean—nobody around? Nobody around for what?"



Harry frowned at her. "What do you think? For when we—"



"And two!" Gerd cried gleefully, working the detonator again. In the distance, there seemed to be a much smaller puff of smoke emerging from within the larger cloud. Perhaps a second later, London Bridge—parts of it, rather—began collapsing into the river.



"Actually blow up the bridge," Harry concluded.



Sherrilyn began rocking her head back and forth. Then, started singing, in a rather pleasant mezzo-soprano but one that was noticeably off-key.





"London Bridge is falling down,

Falling down, falling down,

London Bridge is falling down,

My fair Lady."





"I can't believe it, Harry!" Melissa shrieked. "You blew up London Bridge!"



"As a matter of fact, we didn't. We could've, but with all the people living in those shops on it we were afraid there'd be way too many casualties. So we just blew up some parts of it where nobody was living. Blew 'em up pretty good, too, so it'd look like we tried to drop the bridge but didn't quite manage to pull it off. Look, Ms. Mailey. I don't tell you how to do grammar, how's about you don't tell me how to do commando."