A Hidden Queen

Chapter 93

James Philips stands in the very recesses of the Almilitary building. He was well groomed with his dirty blond hair loosely tied back and the freshly shaven chiseled jawline flexing with tension. His tall muscular frame leans away, scrutinizing the old, rusted oak door. The office was quiet. A little too quiet. He bangs his fist against the hard wood; his anger further rising with no answer.

The tanned features twist sourly at the tightly closed obstacle. The dank hallway recked of cigarette smoke, shoe polish and old leather. Smells that accosted the nostrils and made the eyes water. James was not even sure why he was here attempting to arouse Smithen from his office. The man had been utterly boorish the last they met; but the recent information brought back with Jackson and Horgan from Morga, sent a wave through James' spine.

Vane had received his note, but Horgan had been snatched by Demon Johnny before being able to return to the Private. The recounted story was deeply interesting, further feeding his doubts about Josephine's true fate. As he continued to ponder over it, the nagging desire to search for her grew. He soon found his feet taking him to pester the old man for support and funds. However, James would have a better chance of raising the dead than finding Smithen. He had successfully ignored his calls to his home, and now he was being so bold as to ignore him here at the very center of Military power.

A deep growl snarls his lips. He steps back, intending to kick the door in when another one opened down the passageway. Admiral Hawthorne pokes his dark caramel hair out from behind the door frame. The hazel eyes narrow questioningly as he fully steps out of the office.

"Commodore? What are you doing here?" Hawthorne questions approaching him.

"I am looking for Governor Smithen. He refuses to answer my calls to his home, so I was attempting to reach him here. Is he not in his office today?"

"You mean you do not know?" Hawthorne asks in genuine confusion before waving his hand. "It does not matter. No, he is not here. But come, you may speak your inquiry to me."

"My business is not with you Admiral." James curtly snaps.

"You are a soldier of Herr Majesty's Royal Navy. Everything you do is my business, Mr. Philips." Hawthorne reprimands coldly. "So, if you wish to state what you desire than I suggest you watch your tongue and come with me."

James pinched his lips into a thin line, biting his tongue as he came into step behind the Admiral. They had not gone past three doors before stepping into a plush lavish office. The space was not humble by any means. The leather wing back chairs and deep red velvet couch with a gold laden arch recked of London design and flamboyancy. The hellish scene was further plunged downward with the big bulky cherry red desk sitting in front of the bay windows. The Admiral seemed to shrink behind it as he lounged in a chair of the same design.

Hawthorne gestures for James to take a seat across from him. The taller man sank into one of the leather chairs, making him feel trapped and unable to rise. He wiggles himself forward, preferring to lean his weight onto his knees than be swallowed whole by the chair's cushions.

"Now. What do you want from Fredrick so badly that you felt the need to try to break down the door?"

James opens his mouth in a brief pause. He did not know how the Admiral would view his request to search for Josephine and The Cyclone once more. He had barely made it out of the trials concerning his first attempt to find her and bring her home. He was unsure of how he would be taken bringing the idea forward once more. However, James could not say he really cared either. He was going to do this one way or another. He inhales deeply, resting his face into a hardened scowl.

"I wish to ask permission to search for Ms. Carter. I have come across new information that may concern her being alive."

"New information? How did you come about this?"