David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Eighty-Three

Previously: Mercenary Leon fails a mission because of David, better known as the Prince of Wales. Socialite Wallis Spencer is also a spy. MI6 makes them a team. David becomes king. David abdicates, they marry and he becomes Bahamas governor. The Donohues scheme to meet David and Wallis.
Sidney walked into the secret room of his father’s bedroom closet in their home on Eleuthera. He wondered which weapon to take with him to the meeting of the Burma Road Boys in Nassau tonight. The organization had given him the mission of infiltrating disgruntled black laborers who, according to the whispers on the streets, were up to no good. Sidney’s long slender ebony fingers glided across a collection of various makes of revolvers but in due course pulled his hand away. He was there to observe not obstruct. Anyway, he was among his own people. He felt safe. He also felt like a traitor.
This mercenary business is more complicated than I thought.
To take his mind off the moral dilemma facing him, Sidney went across the room, thinking he would need money to feed himself and to pay for a bed, since the meeting would last late into the night and he didn’t want to cross back to Eleuthera in the darkness. On another table was his father’s treasure trove chest, filled with cold gold coins, pound sterling, half crowns and pence. Then there were bank certificates. His father Leon did not like depositing money into a bank which might create a trail leading back to him. But would it not be just as incriminating if the authorities found all this money in a house on poor Out Islander Eleuthera, Sidney wondered. He shook his head. That was a problem for another day. He grabbed a handful of coins and left the room. Sidney still couldn’t make himself spend the night in the bed where his parents slept.
Going down the hall to his own room, Sidney changed from his beachcomber wear to his old fishing clothes filled with holes and still smelled of fish guts. As he pulled up the pants he frowned. He wasn’t aware of it, but his thighs had thickened. He was becoming a man.
The sun was still high in the sky as he walked down the lane to the rickety old pier. People smiled and waved. The fat boy who once teased him for sounding like a girl—and received in turn a bloody nose—took off his hat and bowed. The community didn’t know exactly why, but Sidney had become a man to be feared and respected.
“All aboard!” Jinglepockets hollered as Sidney walked across the pier.
With ease the young man jumped on board and collapsed on a coil of ropes.
“What a wonderful day for a leisurely trip to Nassau. Not a care in the world.” Jinglepockets winked at him.
They had lost sight of land when Sidney cleared his throat and tried to start a casual conversation.
“You go to Nassau quite a bit, don’t you, Jinglepockets?”
“That’s where they pay the most for the fishes, yes.” He looked at Sidney and smiled. “And you’re not the only one who uses me as a water taxi to the big city.”
Sidney chose his words with care. “Do you ever hear scuttlebutt on the dock?”
“Oh sure. I hear all sorts of things. But a wise man knows when to just hear and when to listen. A man like your papa Leon should have told you that years ago.”
Sidney laughed and stayed quiet until the docks of Nassau appeared on the horizon.
“Okay.” Jinglepockets kept his eyes to the sea. “What is it you want to know?”
“Have you heard of Burma Road?” His mouth went dry.
“Everybody knows about Burma Road,” Jinglepockets started like he had a big yarn to tell. “It ain’t no road at all. It’s a big stretch of scrub brush on the south side of the island. The English who been to Asia say it reminded them of the part of Burma where they built a road one time. Toughest bunch of brush they ever did clear. So they call the land on the south end of the island Burma Road.”
“Oh, I’d heard of it too,” Sidney chimed in. “I just wanted to know what it was and why people were talking about it all the time.”
“The government is interested in it,” the old man told him. “Why, I don’t know and I don’t want to know. You live much longer if you don’t ask questions.”
The fishing boat hit the dock, and Jinglepockets jumped out to tie it up to the mooring. Sidney joined him, stood close and whispered, “Who are these Burma Road Boys?”
“Oh, you don’t want to mess with them.”
“Where are they?”
Jinglepockets nodded toward a low ridge of hills to the north. “Over there, where the poor folks live.”
“Can I get a place to sleep over there for the night and something to eat?”
“Folks gotta eat and sleep. I imagine if you got the money you can get just about anything you want over there.” He grabbed Sidney’s wrist. “Don’t flash those gold coins around. It won’t be healthy.”
Sidney smiled. “Oh, I save those for you, Jinglepockets.”
“Listen, boy, this is serious. I’ve known three generations of your family. Your grandpa was a good man. Your papa was a good man. If you live long enough you’ll be a good man.”
A shadow flew across Sidney then he grinned. “My papa taught me how to take care of myself.” He slipped a gold coin into the old man’s palm. “Be here in the morning to pick me up and I’ll have another coin for you.”
As he turned to walk away, Sidney heard Jinglepockets yell at him. “You be careful! I’m serious. I want my gold coin!”

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