Tides of deception ✺ Outlander/Stephen Bonnet Fanfic

♤ 49. Headstart

In the dimly lit meeting room at the naval headquarters, Bertie adjusted his coat as he took his place before the officers gathered, the air thick with tension. Across the table sat three men of higher rank—stern-faced, rigid in posture, and less than amused by the rumors now circulating about Stephen’s actions. Captain Henshaw, a sharp-eyed man with an unyielding stare, leaned forward, fingers steepled as he began.

"Bertie," he intoned, his voice low, heavy with accusation, "we understand you’re close to Captain Bonnet. This is the second report in recent days of his behavior being… less than appropriate."

Bertie gave a slow nod, but his expression was one of steady resolve. “I am, indeed, familiar with the man, sir. A rogue, as we all know, but he’s served the Crown well—countless times.”

“Then what do you make of these claims?” asked the youngest officer, Lieutenant Markham, whose narrow gaze betrayed a sense of indignation. He shuffled the papers before him, detailing the allegations brought forth by the Duke's men, who’d stormed into headquarters only hours after the incident. “Murder of a nobleman? Disgraceful conduct?”

Bertie let his fingers lightly drum on the table, his mind racing even as he kept his voice measured. “I can’t deny he’s a stubborn soul, Lieutenant, but what happened with the Duke… it’s complex.” He glanced down, as if searching for the right words, then looked back up, meeting each officer’s gaze in turn. “The Duke was… a dangerous sort himself. He had a personal vendetta against Bonnet and his men—perhaps driven by his own misdeeds.”

Captain Henshaw scoffed, lifting an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. “Is that an excuse, Bertie? We deal in law, not personal vendettas.”

Bertie’s jaw tightened for a moment. “I’m not excusing it, Captain,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “But I know Bonnet well enough to say he wouldn’t have acted without cause. Impulsive, yes. Hard-headed, absolutely. But even he wouldn’t risk his life and the lives of his crew unless he saw no other way.”

A hush fell over the room. Captain Henshaw’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering beneath his composed demeanor, but he seemed to sense Bertie’s sincerity. After a long pause, he exhaled slowly. “Well, then. Since you seem to believe there’s more to this… situation, how do you propose we proceed?”

Bertie took a moment, adjusting his coat as he gathered his thoughts. “Give it time,” he suggested, his voice almost a murmur but unmistakably steady. “Let me make inquiries of my own. I’ll see if there’s any truth to the accusations, one way or another. Besides, tracking Bonnet isn’t exactly straightforward. We’d need to muster additional men and resources.”

Lieutenant Markham clenched his jaw, frustration evident as he glanced at Henshaw. “Delays mean giving him a head start, Captain. We should act now before the trail grows cold.”

Bertie shifted his weight, his tone gentle yet resolute. “Markham, I understand your eagerness. But patience may benefit us more than a hasty pursuit.”

The lieutenant met Bertie’s gaze with a hard stare, yet said nothing, his discontent clear. Captain Henshaw rubbed his temples, sighing as he weighed their options.

“I’ll admit, Bertie, your logic isn’t without merit,” Henshaw finally conceded, his tone grudging. “But if I learn you’re covering for him…” He left the threat hanging, his eyes cold.

Bertie inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Understood, sir.”

As he turned to leave, Bertie’s mind churned with mixed feelings—understanding Stephen’s decision but nonetheless feeling the sting of disappointment in his friend’s reckless choices. This act had put everything they’d worked for in jeopardy, a testament to the dangerous line Stephen had always walked.