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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Odyssey - 24. Chapter 24

September, 1797

             

“Our Portuguese friend is back early this morning, my lord,” Calvert observed.

“He should have just stayed here,” Granger joked. Da Colma had spent the entire day with them yesterday, joined for the most part by Cochrane. He had not left until well after sunset, and had been fairly inebriated after a good supper and lots of wine.

“I’m glad he did not,” Calvert said softly, so only Granger could hear. Granger bit back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

Andrews approached them, doffing his hat. “I am hoping to depart with the launch this morning, my lord. We should start loading stores aboard, while I am going to go shopping for additional supplies.”

“I hope you enjoy your expedition, Mr. Andrews,” Granger said.

“It has been quite enjoyable so far, my lord,” Andrews said. “In fact, I am amazed at how cooperative everyone has been. It is reminiscent of our time in Funchal.”

Granger stared at Andrews, making the man uncomfortable, but he was only staring because he was in shock. Andrews had reminded him that it was quite possible the Portuguese were trying to get rid of him as quickly as possible, just as they’d done when he’d been in Madeira. “I wonder if they are expecting a ship we are not supposed to know about.” Granger mused.

“Surely Sir Tobias would not have arrived in Amboyna yet, my lord,” Calvert said.

“That does not mean they have not found another source to test their system. I wonder if any ships have left port since we arrived.”

“I have not seen any, my lord,” Calvert said. “We cataloged the vessels in port when we arrived, and they appear to all still be here.”

“They would not have to send a ship from Rio,” Granger noted. “If they wanted to warn another vessel, and did not want to raise suspicions, they could dispatch a rider to a nearby port, and send a ship from there.”

“Indeed they could, my lord,” Calvert agreed.

“In any event, it makes no difference to us, as we must get those stores anyway. We will take advantage of either Portuguese hospitality or duplicity to do so.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” they both said. They concluded their conversation just as da Colma strode through Bacchante’s entry port, saluting smartly.

“Welcome back,” Granger said informally. He and da Colma had worked out an easy relationship, and had shed their cumbersome titles about halfway through their day, yesterday. Da Colma came from one of Portugal’s oldest and most distinguished noble families, a background that was quite similar to Granger’s own. With the inherent sense of superiority over foreigners that was endemic to Englishmen, Granger was loathe to acknowledge that da Colma was his social equal, but within the recesses of his brain, he did just that. Further, as the adjutant to the Viceroy, da Colma was in an exalted position, one that probably dwarfed the normal position of a frigate captain. In the end, both men had silently agreed that they were on a similar hierarchical level, and had relaxed around each other.

“I feel as if I never left,” da Colma said.

“And you did not need to, as I would have been happy to offer you a berth for the night.”

“It was a most tempting offer,” he responded, with a slightly flirtatious air. Granger could sense Calvert’s annoyance with this handsome Hussar, but he wisely kept it hidden. “But as you recall, this is my day to show you Rio and its environs, so I wanted to make some preparations.”

“I hope you did not go to any great efforts on my account,” Granger noted.

“No more than I would normally expend for a visitor as distinguished as you are,” da Colma said. “I have planned for us to return before nightfall, but if we are delayed on our travels out of the city, it may be necessary to return in the morning. Would that meet with your approval?”

“Of course,” Granger said. “Mr. Calvert, you have the ship. I will return no later than tomorrow morning.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Calvert said. There was no way he could hide his nervousness over trusting Granger to this handsome Portuguese man overnight.

“Then let us be off,” Granger said. He followed da Colma into the boat, and the Portuguese crew pulled at the oars energetically, guiding them quickly to the quay. A carriage was waiting to take them to a very ornate house.

“This is my home while I am in Rio,” da Colma said. “I felt that I would offer you a change of clothing, into something more casual, and then we can ride out and see the countryside.”

“If I am to ride, that is probably a good idea,” Granger said, even as he stared down at his dress uniform.

A man appeared but said nothing. “This is Pedro, one of my valets,” da Colma said. “He will see that you are outfitted.” Granger greeted Pedro, who merely acknowledged his greeting and then led him off. The man clearly did not want to talk, so Granger silently began to disrobe. Pedro took his clothes, much as Winkler would have, and handed him more casual gear to wear instead: trousers, a looser shirt, and a green jacket made of lightweight cotton. Granger looked at himself in the mirror and found the reflection seemed odd. So used was he to seeing himself in his uniform that this green coat seemed slightly ridiculous.

“Good, my lord?” Pedro asked, the only thing he’d said since they’d come to his room.

“Good,” Granger said, and smiled. Pedro found him some boots that fit remarkably well, and then led him back down to the main entry area. He found da Colma waiting for him, dressed much as he was; only his jacket was of a light blue color.

“You look quite handsome,” he said to Granger.

“Not if I am standing next to you,” Granger replied, getting a smile for his playful flirting.

They mounted horses and headed out of town, escorted by two soldiers. “It is wise when travelling in the country to have an escort,” da Colma said. “While there are usually no incidents, sometimes escaped slaves will seek to rob wealthy travellers.”

“It is much the same in any country, I fear.”

“It is,” da Colma agreed. “Only here, the problem is worse, and the Viceroy does little to stop it.” They rode through the outskirts of the city, and Granger was not surprised at the poverty of the people who lived here. There were slums in London, and in all of Britain’s major cities, but somehow, these people seemed worse off, and perhaps more desperate. He felt strangely conspicuous, trotting through their neighborhoods on his hardy steed, guarded by only two soldiers.

“Perhaps he does not see the problem,” Granger said, a backhanded way of implying that the Viceroy did not venture out much.

“He does not, but even if he did, he would not have the resources to expend to solve the problem.”

Granger looked at him questioningly. “I would have thought that he would have the authority to address the issue of local security.”

Da Colma shook his head. “Authority without resources is useless. The Viceroy has, to all appearances, a very exalted position. He is Lisbon’s representative here, and the various governors are theoretically accountable to him.”

“Theoretically?”

“The provincial governors get their orders directly from Lisbon,” da Colma said. “The Viceroy can rant and rave at them, but he cannot compel them to do much of anything. It divides the local government, and makes things inefficient and contentious at times.” They began to follow a trail that appeared to head toward a mountain. The further toward the mountain they got, the steeper the trail got, and the more the jungle seemed to close in around them.

“Perhaps that is the way Lisbon wants it?” Granger asked, with a smile.

“And that is most perceptive of you. That is exactly why things are this way. There is no chance of an organized opposition to the Crown when the local officials are so divided, but their loyalties are to Lisbon.”

“So what does the Viceroy control?” Granger asked.

“Rio and some of the surrounding areas.”

“Perhaps you will someday be able to take over his exalted position, and reap the rewards.”

Da Colma laughed. “It is an exalted position, or it would be if the occupant were exalted, but the rewards are minimal. A Viceroy is paid a pittance, and must augment his income through business dealings.”

“Business dealings?” Granger asked.

“Surely affairs of commerce are beneath our consideration,” da Colma said with aristocratic disdain. They were on a narrow path now, climbing quite steeply. The leaves of the nearest trees brushed against him from time to time as they wound their way up toward the top. Granger almost felt claustrophobic, as if the natural environment were just waiting to swallow him up.

“I have found that it is best to avoid the world of trade, providing those activities are reasonably legal,” Granger said carefully.

“Reasonably legal?” da Colma teased.

“You are no doubt aware of my capture of the Precieuse off Funchal, and the ensuing consequences to the officials there for their collusion with the French,” Granger said.

“It has made you reviled amongst the Portuguese trading community and feared by colonial administrators,” he said. “Among the aristocracy, we laughed our asses off.” Granger joined him, laughing at that.

“The administrators I have met so far do not seem to hold me in much fear. They have largely been rude and unaccommodating.” Granger looked out at the jungle and saw a large serpent not more than three feet from them. He felt his skin tingling at the sight of that wretched creature, but certainly showed no sign of his fear to the others.

“Perhaps,” da Colma said. “But besides the governors of Salvador and Recife, they have not done anything detrimental to you. And I suspect that when Lisbon finds out about that, we will have openings for two new colonial governors.”

“I cannot believe I am that popular in Lisbon,” Granger joked.

“You are not, but your government is,” da Colma responded seriously. “We are a small country and a shadow of our former selves when it comes to power. We are not so unlike Spain, who must forever look nervously at their northeastern border. Only in our case, it is the Spanish themselves who remain a persistent threat. It is only their incredible inefficiency that has saved Portugal so far. The French are not so incompetent.”

“Yet you ally with Britain,” Granger said, to elicit further conversation from him.

“We are a seafaring people. Our destiny lies with the sea. England commands the seas, so we are natural allies. The detestable Dutch have done much the same thing, casting their lot largely with Britain. It has served us better,” he said with a smile. Holland was currently occupied by the French. They emerged briefly from the jungle to a beautiful vista of the harbor, but that was not their stopping place, evidently, and they were soon reabsorbed into the jungle, snakes and all.

“It is a natural alliance,” Granger agreed.

“That is why the scheme you uncovered was so problematic,” da Colma continued. “It made it seem as if Portugal were flaunting and abusing the protection offered by your Royal Navy. You should be aware that it was not so much the trading activity that so vexed Lisbon, it was the aid offered to French warships that made it treasonous.”

“So you are saying that if a similar smuggling operation were uncovered, Lisbon would turn a blind eye?” Granger asked pointedly.

“I cannot say what Lisbon would or would not do,” da Colma said, backing up rapidly.

“You cannot say for certain, but you must have an opinion, and that I would be most interested to hear.”

They finally reached the peak of the mountain, and Granger was relieved to find himself in a broad, clear place, free of the confines of the forest he’d just been through. Da Colma dismounted, with Granger following his lead. They walked the rest of the way to a vista point that allowed him to see the entire harbor. “This is breathtaking,” Granger said, admiring the panoramic view.

“From here, Rio is at its most beautiful,” da Colma said. “None of the ugliness of the people is visible.” Granger hadn’t really thought the people were ugly, he’d thought they were poor. The serpent, on the other hand, was much more in line with his definition of ugly.

“I can see that your compatriots are busy,” Granger said, pointing at Bacchante, which looked like a small toy from this distance. There were small boats surrounding her, loading stores onto her.

They went over to a large rock and sat down next to each other, just enjoying the scenery in silence. “I have been sent to this place, and find that I am often bereft of civilized company,” da Colma said. “Having you here has been a welcome reprieve from that.”

“Why did you come here?” Granger asked.

“There is a fear that if the war goes badly for us, the government will need a place to regroup.”

“You mean that if Portugal is overrun by the French and Spanish, there are plans to set up an alternate capital here in Rio?” Granger asked, amazed.

“Precisely.”

“I would have thought that the Azores, or Madeira, would be preferable, if only because they are closer.”

“The decision on where to go was made without my consultation,” da Colma said, grinning. “Brazil is a vibrant, vital place. It is so new and so big, with so much potential. Can you not feel the energy?”

Granger surveyed the port, and the anchorage. “I can,” he agreed. “But why you?”

“I am young, and presumably healthy enough to survive these tropical climates. I am intelligent, smart enough to see the machinations of those around me. And I am powerful, too powerful to be ignored even by the likes of an arrogant ass like the Viceroy.”

“You forgot handsome and charming,” Granger said, flirting.

“I assumed that was a given,” da Colma joked back.

“It is. In fact, you are so charming, you almost made me forget about the question I asked you.”

“I am wondering why it is so easy to trust you,” da Colma said. “I am wondering if that makes you dangerous.”

“Perhaps you trust me because you know I will not intentionally harm you,” Granger said. “I cannot see that it makes me dangerous.”

“But you have been, and you can be,” he replied.

“What can I say that will allay your fears?” Granger asked, frustrated and confused.

“You want to know what I think about a smuggling operation, and you are asking me that because Mr. Cochrane has uncovered the scheme to be put into action here in Rio.” Granger said nothing. “Is our trust to be only one way?”

Granger gave him a wry grin. “It is not. And indeed you are smart and perceptive.”

“You will pardon me for being parochial, and only worrying about Portuguese interests here,” da Colma said. “If British merchants, in conjunction with the British Consul, propose to use Rio as a waypoint in their journey home with goods, who am I to object?”

“And if those ships stop in Rio and discharge some of their cargo, is that not a violation of the mercantile code which Portugal operates under?”

“It is for the Viceroy to worry about such things, and in any event, such arrangements are common enough to be ignored.”

“Provided they are not too large,” Granger added.

“That is certainly an expected provision,” he said.

“And what if those goods are transferred to Portuguese ships for shipment, not to Britain, but to Europe directly?” Granger asked.

“That would appear to be a matter of concern for London and their mercantilist code, not Lisbon,” da Colma said simply.

“But what if those goods were shipped not to Lisbon, but to L’Orient or Cartagena?” Granger asked.

“It could perhaps be a concern here, but only if there were irrefutable proof that such a thing was happening. It is likely that to truly expose such an arrangement, one would have to capture one of those vessels while they were entering or leaving L’Orient or Cartagena. In that case, the responsibility would rest with naval forces patrolling the French or Spanish coasts.”

Granger said nothing, but merely digested da Colma’s statement. In other words, there was no reason for anyone here in Rio to interfere with the trade, since they could profit from it while remaining insulated from its true purpose. They could claim ignorance, and point to their counterparts in the home country as being responsible for exposing the arrangement. As soon as it was exposed, the Viceroy would crack down on those involved with a vengeance, if only to prove his own innocence. “You have made things very clear,” Granger finally said.

“I hope you are not angry with me,” da Colma said, concerned.

“On the contrary. I appreciate your candor. It is the mark of a true friend.” That got a smile from the sophisticated young Portuguese man. “Rio is the central link, the lynchpin to this entire arrangement, but without adequate proof of duplicity, it is impossible to sever the deal. That proof can only come from Europe.”

“It would be madness to attempt to contravene an arrangement that will generate substantial wealth here merely on idle speculation,” da Colma said, further validating Granger’s statement.

“That leaves me in a quandary about what my best course of action should be,” Granger said, opening up to da Colma.

“I would think you would merely sail away and attempt to accomplish your mission and return home. If you find further proof of the plan you mentioned, then you must act on it. If you do not, then you would look like a fool if you did something, anyway.” Granger paused to admire da Colma’s political instincts, and was reminded briefly of Cavendish.

“I am wondering what would happen if I replaced Sir Malcolm as Consul,” Granger mused.

“You would certainly not endear yourself to the Viceroy, and you would not be able to rely on his support if you were to request his expulsion of Sir Malcolm from Brazil,” da Colma said. It was much the way Cochrane had described it. Granger was surprised that da Colma did not even question whether Granger had the authority to remove Pollton. How secret were his orders, and his mission? Did Pollton know? Did the Viceroy? Or did da Colma just make logical conclusions?

“Sir Malcolm could certainly stay here in Rio as a private citizen, but I am wondering if he is best placed to look out for His Britannic Majesty’s interests.”

“I think that anyone else would be sidelined and disregarded by the Viceroy. Your Mr. Cochrane, for example, would find that performing simple consular duties may be quite problematic.” Da Colma stood up and walked toward the cliff, risking a surely fatal fall if he got too close. Granger followed him, oblivious to any danger, since heights did not worry him.

“I am trying to convince myself that leaving things as they are is in everyone’s best interests.”

“You are wondering if I am telling you to do that, because I have something to gain, or because I do not want any conflict,” da Colma said, slightly petulantly.

“Actually, those ideas never crossed my mind,” Granger said, although they both had. He just didn’t think they’d be the primary motivators for da Colma.

“Listen to me,” da Colma said severely. “This must play itself out at either end of the chain, either in the East Indies, or in Europe. To do anything to upset the chain now would be to jump in before you could prove anything. You would be accusing powerful people of planning a crime, and you would have almost no proof even of that.”

“That is why you are here,” Granger accused. “So that when this does blow up, and when the consequences are levied, there is someone here to assume the reins of power and make sure the colony continues to function.”

“I do not make predictions, because I am usually wrong, but if I were to make one in this case, purely out of idle speculation, I would submit that if you were to call here at Rio within two years, you will have to address yourself to me as the Viceroy, and you will discover that Mr. Cochrane is your Consul.”

“But that can only happen if I let this play out,” Granger said.

“That is not the only way it can happen, but it is the most likely way,” da Colma said with his impish grin.

“I think, though, that if I do nothing, I must explain myself to His Majesty’s ministers back in London,” Granger said. That was only partially true. The real issue was his need to alert London to what he suspected was happening here, but he was under no obligation to share those concerns with da Colma.

“And how would you accomplish that?” da Colma asked.

“I am not sure,” Granger said, even though he already had his plan of action sketched out in his mind. “I will have to ponder it.”

“We must begin our return journey. It is not wise to be in the jungle at dusk.”

“We will be eaten by large serpents or bears?” Granger joked.

“No, we will instead become prime targets for the mosquitos, which are voracious,” he said. Granger nodded, and followed him back to the horses. They retraced their steps, with Granger trying to appreciate the beauty of the jungle while overlooking the creatures that resided in it. It was with a sense of relief that they emerged from the forest, only they did not head toward Rio, they headed further away from town.

“And where are we going now?” Granger asked pleasantly.

“I have learned you enjoy baths. There are mineral springs not far from here. I have arranged for us to enjoy them, as well as some food and entertainment.”

“That sounds splendid!” Granger said. He suddenly yearned for a fresh water bath, and while mineral water was not the same thing, it would do in a pinch.

The place da Colma took him to was like a grotto, with a large central pool that seemed to branch off into smaller caves, where presumably there were pools as well. “The water here is warm, and consistently so,” da Colma informed him. “It enables one to languish for some time.”

“They look spectacular,” Granger noted. “I would think that they would be quite popular.”

“Perhaps, but not when we want to use them,” da Colma said, chuckling. “The only people here with us will be those that we choose.” His eyebrows went up suggestively, and Granger understood the meaning behind that. Da Colma was suggesting that they invite women in, women of easy virtue. Granger was momentarily flummoxed by that, as he’d only encountered that suggestion once, in Gibraltar. Then, it had been suggested by a fellow officer, so there was no real consequence to declining. Here, female company was being offered as part of a diplomatic mission. Did the Portuguese consider it bad form to refuse to fuck a whore offered as a gift?

“I am quite content with the present company,” Granger said, getting a curious look from da Colma. “Should you fancy a guest for your own benefit, I will certainly not object.”

“I would not want to offend your sensibilities,” da Colma said. It was amazing the way the two of them seemed to understand each other.

“I can promise you that you won’t offend my sensibilities, but I cannot promise to avert my eyes,” Granger said, raising his own eyebrows.

A grin broke out across da Colma’s handsome face. “Then let us prepare to enjoy the baths.” They went into separate dressing rooms and shed their clothes. They came out at the same time, wearing nothing, and Granger could not stop himself from admiring da Colma’s handsome form. He was short, which tended to diminish him, but his muscular chest and torso, along with his bulging calves, made him quite the imposing figure. Granger hurriedly got into the big pool before he got an erection. The pool was quite warm, intoxicatingly so.

A waiter brought them a glass of some sort of fruit flavored concoction that tasted like it had a sizeable amount of rum mixed in. “This drink is marvelously cool,” Granger observed.

“It is not as cool as you may think, because you are drinking it in a warm pool, but it is significantly chilled. The fruit and rum are mixed together, and then allowed to chill overnight here in the cave.”

Granger and da Colma drank a number of these rum drinks in quick succession, so quickly that Granger realized he was quite intoxicated only when it was too late. Da Colma appeared to be just as drunk, if not more so. They splashed about in the water, joking, and then they would be serious, and discuss the affairs of the world with a sober tenor, only to turn around and splash and carouse. Granger was surprised at how relaxed he was around da Colma, and how that would have worried him if the Portuguese Colonel weren’t just as relaxed.

“Let me show you this part,” da Colma said, and led Granger off into one of the caves. It was simply a smaller pool connected to the larger pool, with a cave that echoed when they talked, making them laugh. Da Colma led Granger to a cave further back, and stopped Granger short of the entrance. “Look quietly,” he whispered.

Granger moved forward and peeked around the rock to see three beautiful women lounging on the side of the pool. They were completely nude, and all but begging to be fucked. Granger felt da Colma move up behind him, felt his chest press against Granger’s back. “Let me move so you can see better,” Granger said, and slid down into the water a bit.

“Which one do you think is the most beautiful?” da Colma asked with lust dripping out of his mouth.

Granger moved lower still, until he felt da Colma’s hard cock bump against his taint. Da Colma pulled back instinctively, and Granger moved up slightly. When da Colma moved forward again, Granger lowered himself down again, and this time da Colma left his cock there, lodged against the back of Granger’s balls. “I’m not sure,” Granger said. He felt da Colma begin to move back and forth slightly, rubbing his dickhead against Granger’s taint. “Which one do you fancy?”

“The one in front of me, perhaps,” da Colma said. He pushed forward with more purpose, and Granger adjusted his body to take da Colma’s cock up his hole. He reached around and grabbed the head of da Colma’s dick and lined it up, then pushed back into da Colma as da Colma pushed forward. Granger felt that familiar, wonderful feeling of being filled up by another man, and then he let his body take over, not a tough thing to do as intoxicated as he was. “Oh yes,” da Colma panted. “Oh yes! This is wonderful!”

Granger was lucky in two things, and unlucky in one. He was lucky in that Calvert had fucked him last night, so there was still some residual lanolin to ease da Colma’s passage. He was also lucky in that da Colma was not too well endowed, and was thus easy to take. But he was most unlucky in that the handsome Portuguese Colonel was not equipped for endurance, since he came within a minute of entering Granger. “Wonderful,” Granger lied when da Colma was done and pulled out of him.

“Exquisite,” da Colma said, grinning. After that, they floated around in the pools for a bit longer, then rinsed off in fresh water. Donning their clothes, they returned to da Colma’s house for a late supper. Granger returned to his ship that evening, but as it was almost dawn when he pulled himself aboard Bacchante; it may just as well have been morning.

Copyright © 2014 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

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Once again, Mark, you've produced a chapter revealing George's leadership skills maturing. That which seemed to him to be a quick & easy solution seems to require greater consideration for the consequences are less well-defined. It will be interesting to see how he negotiates a complicated diplomatic path. Perhaps George will stick around Rio a bit longer to see whether his hunch of a mystery ship does come into port? Hehehe! Looking forward to how this unwinds! Thanks, Mark!

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On 11/27/2012 10:58 AM, Rosicky said:
Once again, Mark, you've produced a chapter revealing George's leadership skills maturing. That which seemed to him to be a quick & easy solution seems to require greater consideration for the consequences are less well-defined. It will be interesting to see how he negotiates a complicated diplomatic path. Perhaps George will stick around Rio a bit longer to see whether his hunch of a mystery ship does come into port? Hehehe! Looking forward to how this unwinds! Thanks, Mark!
A review! They were pretty sparse on the last chapter. My whining there is a bit reminiscent of a character in a different story. ;-)

 

George really doesn't have the luxury of waiting around. He's a busy boy. He's got people to see, things to do, and men to ....

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So much information I don't know how to review chapters 23 and 24. It's such a complicated tangle for George to solve, I had to read each chapter twice. I still don't know if George's brother is a good guy or a bad guy. Believe me, we are all reading with great interest. It' just sometimes difficult to comment on such skillful writing. Eagerly waiting for the next chapter. blush1.gif

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On 11/27/2012 11:49 AM, davewri said:
So much information I don't know how to review chapters 23 and 24. It's such a complicated tangle for George to solve, I had to read each chapter twice. I still don't know if George's brother is a good guy or a bad guy. Believe me, we are all reading with great interest. It' just sometimes difficult to comment on such skillful writing. Eagerly waiting for the next chapter. blush1.gif
LOL. Thanks. I was just giving you guys a bad time. It is a tangled web. We'll have something new to think about in the next chapter or two.
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Money really does make the world go round and has for a very long time. The gist of the problem is just as da Colma summarized it, the evidence is not conclusive unless the contraband is found inbound to France or Spain. However, the viceroy and the English consul are two pimples that need popping and perhaps Granger can figure out a way to socially lance them and still leave them in situ. (And perhaps just a tad bit less full of themselves.) Ok, that's a tall order that the author may avoid, but it would be nice to see the pompous asses fall on them.

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Well, already made a few comments in the forum but wanted to get my two cents in here as well... I still think Granger should send the Britsh Consul packing on a ship bound for England, this would at least disrupt any flow of goods coming toward Rio before Granger can get to the Far East and deal with Maidstone and Bertie... He could remove the consul on the grounds of not fulfilling his duties because of how run down the consulate is and how his actions are playing out in Rio in regards to payouts of prize ships, etc.. This would dovetail nicely with the reason the Honorable Mr. Cochrane was sent out to Rio... This would remove an essential cog in the plan without tipping Granger's hand that he was aware of the nefarious plan that is afoot...

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Well poor George doesn't seem to have anything but problems. Doing nothing doesn't seem to be our boy's desired method of dealing with problems, so I can't wait to see how Mark works this out......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On 11/27/2012 04:12 PM, JimCarter said:
Well poor George doesn't seem to have anything but problems. Doing nothing doesn't seem to be our boy's desired method of dealing with problems, so I can't wait to see how Mark works this out......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Well, if things were easy, it would be boring. :-)
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George has Calvert, Somers and Andrews brain storming this. Now add in da Colmas' take on it. What ever he does will have consequences and it all comes to rest on his shoulders. The King and Privy Council have given him a task requiring the strength of Samson and the wisdom of Soloman to accomplish. Great chapter, thank you.

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Sometimes waiting to see how things play out is the only thing one can do. It can be hard for people of action to sometimes realize that life moves on regardless of direct action.

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