Odyssey Part Two

 

The night after our skirmish with Lawwell and Regan, we anchored close to Otter Ferry and visited the Oystercatcher to have a few drinks and let Andy Goram have a leg up with the local bikes. To everyone's surprise, when we arrived, there sitting in the corner was Jorg Albertz Demon Hunter, dressed in his customary long black coat and taking his time over a pint of Loch Fyne ale.
'What are you doing here?' I asked and he put down his newspaper and blew smoke in my face.
'Been tailing a werewolf along the coast for the past few days and his trail led to here. More to the point, with such evil abroad, what are you doing here Spiers, and in such great company? I thought you were chasing that old stoat Devine before he pupped your wife?'
'Well I am but he's totally off the grid, can't find him anywhere. I don't suppose you'd care to help us with a bit of your black magic?'
'Keep away from that stuff, Corduroy Boy, there's enough darkness in your life without inviting more in. Anyway, I've got to go, the trail of dead sheep leads to another yacht moored off Portavadie and I'm popping in tonight to set it on fire. The local livestock should be safe from Delahunt for a while after this little prank.'
And with that he was gone. I mean really gone, he walked out the door and quite literally disappeared into the darkness. I know because I chased him to the door in an effort to find out what he meant about Jim Delahunt savaging sheep up and down the Fyne coast but he'd gone, just like that.

After Albertz left, we supped a few ales while Goram took the local farmer's daughter over the jumps out back and were ready to leave just before midnight. We boarded our dinghy at the jetty outside the pub and Richard Gough rowed us in on his own. We were climbing aboard HMS the Walter Smith when all of a sudden a great yell went up from the port side and dark figures pounced on us. 'Pirates!' yelled Gough, pulling out his cutlass but they were on us in seconds and a great clash of steel was heard as the Rangers 90s Squad Marines battled what looked suspiciously like a band of cut-throats led by... yes, there was no mistaking it, led by Michael Paton and Zander Diamond.

'Kill the Protestant bastards!' screamed Diamond.
'Cut their Orange throats!' yelled Paton as they crossed swords with Ferguson and McCall who stood their ground while Ferguson broke open the musket locker and threw one into my hands. Now here I was in a right old quandary: do I fire on Paton and Diamond even although I agree with everything they're saying or do I protect my mission to save my wife by siding with Rangers? In the end I didn't have to bother as Andy Goram, having been left ashore to finish off a farm girl, was bringing up the rear on his own in a rowing boat and he appeared on the scene levelling a small cannon at Paton and Diamond's freebooters who, seeing that they were totally outgunned, apologised, said their fathers were Protestants and that it was all either a big joke or a misunderstanding and they all slinked off the sides of the boat and into the water to swim to the shore.  They were met there by the police who had arrived to arrest them for sectarian crimes but upon finding out it was only Protestants they were attacking, decided to let them off and sent them on their way with a chuckle.