The Sleeping Army Awakes

Part 25 Site seeing

The first pictures of Kopce Milosti and Sir Percy's building site came in crisply. The drone was flying high, but the camera had an excellent zoom and Ruthers was very good at honing in on the action. There was a long convoy of yellow and black machines making their way down the main road.

"Ye Freds Ruthers. Look at all that Fredding machinery pouring into Pissy's site." Sir Gilbert said, "With all that black and yellow it looks like the whole place has been invaded by huge wasps that fart clouds of back smoke!"

"Indeed sir!" Ruthers said, dutifully staring  briefly at the images. "It appears to be an irregular hive of activity." 

The humour was lost on Sir Gilbert, whose companies had always done their best to eradicate any extant species of insects, all over the world, and who had never had any interest in their nesting habits in the first place.

"What are you wittering on about Ruthers?"

"Very little sir  Gilbert!"

  Sir Gilbert  ignored him as usual.

"Didn't expect Pissy to get so organised so quickly. Look at all those Fredders!" Sir Gilbert said, spittle leaving his mouth almost like bats leaving a cave, such was his annoyance.

"Indeed sir!" Ruthers intoned.

"I suppose that it would be unsporting of me, to get that blighter Perseus bumped off when we have a current wager in progress?" Sir Gilbert asked hopefully.

It always cheered Sir Gilbert up a bit to kill off a rival, or indeed a potential rival, or an innocent bystander, if push came to shove, and there was something to shove them under, like a bus, a tram or a herd of stampeding wildebeest.

"Regrettably it would be exceedingly bad form sir! And in any case it would show a certain lack lack of moral fibre!" Ruthers replied. "It would hardly be playing the game on a straight wicket. Playing on a sticky wicket, with wonky ground might even make future wagers difficult to negotiate if people think that they are in danger of being bumped off in the middle of the bet... but if I might make proffer a suggestion?"

"Proffer away old family retainer!" Sir Gilbert encouraged.

"Well I just wondered that if the Sir Percy hunting season is off for the moment, then there are many other candidates that would be more deserving of the fate and less unsporting to shuffle off this mortal coil. That secretary of Sir Percy's, Spencer Butler, for instance."

"No! No! No! Ruthers you nincompoop! " Sir Gilbert said, "That would be the most unsporting, underhand, sneaky, and damned right dastardly act of ingratitude. I owe that young fellow a favour. A bet is a bet and a debt is a debt. That courageous young man knocked over the assassin in the Chinese and probably saved my life! In any case he is clearly the brains of the family," Here he put his hand up to his mouth and continued in an aside, "he must be, because Perseus has absolutely none,"

"Most droll sir" Ruthers commented hollowly, attempting something that was meant to be laughter, which never quite hit the mark, sounding more like the last few litres of water pouring out of a large bottle and going down the plug hole of a large basin.

"Damn it man I need a worthy adversary." Sir Gilbert said and pounded the side of the full length mirror, "I would actually like to poach him."

"I don't think that we have a large enough pan sir!" Ruthers remarked dryly, "Would sir like me to procure one?"

"No! No! No! Ruthers you imbecile. Have you been at the sherry you old twit?" Percy shouted, "I don't mean that sort of poaching you cretin."

"I must apologise for the confusion," Ruthers defended, "But you did get your last chauffeur boiled in engine oil."