In a Spider's Web: Operation Prometheus Part VIII

Operation Prometheus. August 26, 2084. Local Time: 5:10 AM. Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Status: [REDACTED]

"In the name of who?!" Even with a gun to her head, Kelly is still belligerent and incredulous. "This was the territory of Williamsbourg. It's now under the control of West New York. What in the world does the Iberian Royal Guard have to do with either nation?" I clutch the ladder. Since I'm directly under Kelly, and since the trapdoor is barely large enough for one person to fit through, there's a slim chance that the guards haven't noticed me. 

"Yeah, we're not divulging that information," the guard snorts. "But there is some information that we would like you to divulge. You and your partner. Yes, we saw him coming up with you." So I guess they have noticed me. That throws a wrench in my plans. I don't see a gun trained on me, and considering that we're directly under the watchtower platform, there's no way they're getting a good shot at me from the platform itself. 

"You know, you could at least be courteous enough to tell us how you knew we were here," Kelly magnanimously claims. 

"Like I said, we're not divulging that information. In fact, we're not going to be divulging any information except for this: we are going to take the two of you into this watchtower. We are going to interrogate you. You will tell us everything. Not just about what you're doing here, or why you're here, but everything that you know about your nation's military, government, technology, and psychology. At the end, if we have been satisfied with the information you have provided to us, we're going to tie you up, dump you on a raft, and send you off to sail the high seas. Sound fair?" I can't see the guard since I'm behind Kelly on the ladder, but if I could, I'm pretty sure he'd be grinning his ass off. 

Then again, if I can't see him, surely he can't see me, can he? He mentioned that he saw me coming up with Kelly. That gives me an idea. I pass my hand through the ladder, hooking my elbow onto it so that both my hands are now free. I reach down for my belt, but before I can grab it, the guard begins to address me.

"No, no, no, please, do not reach for your sidearm or gas grenade or ninja star or whatever it is you have in there. It really is best if you go quietly into the night." The guard pauses for a minute, before continuing. "Come think of it, why don't I just shoot the both of you and call it a day?" I do know the answer to that question, incidentally.

"Oh, I know why. You need this information that we have. If it was of no consequence to you, you'd have shot at us already. I doubt you'd hit that shot, to be honest, it's pretty dark out, but you'd have definitely started shooting. Possibly, we could be your big break, the key to your next promotion. Am I somewhere in the ballpark?" I ask, wondering if I can't make something of this line of questioning. To be honest, I'm also legitimately confused as to why they didn't just start shooting at us, to begin with.

The guard snorts again. "I need neither promotion nor validation from something so petty as a military rank. I am a member of King Frederick's personal legion, blessed by the Hand of God to spread the Spanish Way around the world. In times of light and darkness, in times of war and peace, we will engage in our mission of purging the unfaithful from Orbis." He begins a rant about "Glorious Hispaniola," the royal lineage of European monarchs, and a bunch of other crap that I can't say I really give a rat's ass about. I capitalize on the opportunity to grab the grenade from my belt. I lean off to the side a little, so that I can get a better view of the inside of the watchtower platform. While Kelly is still blocking the majority of the view, I can now see the Iberian guard a little better. He's still got the pistol pointed at Kelly's head, but he doesn't seem too focused on her, choosing instead to put his energies into ranting about... man, I don't even know. 

Leaning off to the side, I notice that Kelly has also picked up on the guard's distractedness. I think to myself: if we time this just right, we might be able to get out of this thing. But we've got to time it just right. 

I pull the pin on the grenade and begin counting in my head.

One Mississippi. I reach up the ladder to tap Kelly on the leg.

Two Mississippi. Taking advantage of the distraction, Kelly whacks the gun out of the guard's hand, causing him to stagger back. I don't even think he's noticed, he's still ranting about the Pope and Spanish nationalism and whatnot.

Three Mississippi. I backhand the grenade up the trapdoor. 

The grenade explodes, forcing both Kelly and me to hang on for dear life as the force of the explosion attempts to push us off the ladder.