Crown Jewel: The Battle for the Falklands by Peter von Bleichert Read Free Book Online

just men,” he said with a forced sleepy smile.  Filled with respect for the young Prince, the governor watched Albert shamble up the old creaking stairs.  He signaled the butler to follow.
    Albert’s upper floor bedroom awaited, cozy and warm.  Modest in décor, it had a wood-fired stove that radiated heat and a soft glow.  As the butler retreated, Albert slid under the soft bed’s thick duvet.  Swaddled in comfort, he peered out a small window to the black sea.  On the horizon was the flicker of a ship’s deck lights.  With his head sinking into the soft, cool pillow, Albert surmised that the lights likely belonged to a cruise ship filled with eco-tourists returning from the Southern Ocean.  He fell asleep.
     

4: WAYLAY
     
    “ We're surrounded.  That simplifies the problem .”—Chesty Puller
     
    T he rotor blades of the Apache thumped and turned slowly.  The helicopter floated along the meadow.  Its belly brushed tall, swaying grass.  Ahead were the thatched roofs of simple houses.  Horses scattered and ran away over the hills.
    Albert was at the machine’s control.  Relaxed, he looked up through the cockpit glass at the bright stars of the clear night, then down to his co-pilot’s helmet.  The man in front of him never seemed to answer any questions.  One of the house doors opened.  Light spilled out into the dark night, and, one by one, children emerged and lined up against the brick wall.
    The helicopter’s cannon rattled and flashed.  The children fell in exaggerated spinning deaths.  Albert screamed.  The co-pilot turned, and, beneath black empty eye sockets, a skeletal jaw hinged open in a mocking silent shriek.  Albert screamed again.
    ◊◊◊◊
    “Your Royal Highness.  You were screaming.”  Government House’s butler stood in the door frame.  His face, shadowed by hall light, betrayed his concern.  Albert was drenched in sweat.  Major Fagan, now in his fatigues and a beige beret that covered his salt and pepper hair, peeked around the corner.  Albert recognized theSAS’s cap badge.  It was Excalibur.  The longsword was pointed down, wreathed in flames, and worked into the cloth of a Crusader shield.  Beneath was the motto, ‘Who Dares Wins.’
    “You all right, then, Captain?”Fagan asked with his thick Yorkshire accent
    “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Albert answered.  “Thank you.”
    “Very well, sir.”
    The butler said he would fetch a glass of water, and he shut the door.  The room was swallowed by darkness again.
    Suddenly, came muffled thumping, and Albert had to ask himself if he was really awake.  Then, hurried footfalls in the hall.  Albert swung his legs out of bed.  His bare feet hit the cold floor and confirmed he was in fact awake.  He clicked the nightstand light on.  The muffled thumps became the crackle of gunfire.  Albert looked out the window and saw flashes on the mansion’s lawn.
    “Captain Talbot.”  The chamber’s door was thrown open again.  Fagan leaned in, pistol in hand.  “Come quickly.”  Still fogged by alcohol, jet lag, and sleep, Albert sat slumped at the edge of his bed.  “ Now , sir.”
    The order blasted away the last of the fog in Albert’s mind.  He complied and moved toward the voice.  Seeing he was only dressed in pajamas, Fagan threw a Kevlar vest at Albert.
    “Put this on and follow me.”
    Crouched, Albert and Fagan moved along the House’s upper hall.  A grenade exploded downstairs.  The mansion shook.  The blast was answered by a string of automatic gunfire and shouts.  Someone was coming up the stairs, too.  Major Fagan knelt and raised his SIG Sauer handgun.
    “Don’t shoot,” a voice said.  It was Governor Moody and he had an Uzi submachine gun in hand.  “Albert, are you all right?”
    “So far,” Albert answered as he looked over his pajamas and body armor.  “What’s happening?”
    “I’m not certain.  The security detail and the mansion guard have failed to answer their