The Victory Conspiracy on going

The Victory

Cameron had listened intently to Father Johnathon, gleaming information that HMS Victory played its part in the search for the manuscript, the search had been to find what artefacts were missing from the Spanish galleon. Researchers had found new information giving an insight to that fatal day. Cameron was slowly piecing together the sadness Nelson felt in his desperation to find the truth.
Cameron made a snap decision to visit Portsmouth Naval Dock yard to find clues, although the Victory had been in dry dock since 1922 when she was saved for the Nation* ( https://www.hms-Victory.com) he felt sure that something was pulling him there.
The train journey had been quicker than he thought, fields upon fields had flashed by as the sat staring out of the window,his mind had wandered on and off as soon as he sat in the comfortableno seat. Images jumped into his head. Billowing smoke noises, shouting of commands, he felt uneasy crouching down almost on his knees, a quick glance down he noticed he was wearing loose three quarter length trousers his arms he did not recognise as his own, the body he had slipped into was definitely not his the man's movement was fluid he knew exactly what he was doing reloading the cannon, the heat around him intensified. Suddenly Cameron was flung forwards with such ferocity he came head to head with an enormous canon ball. Grappling to stand up he banged his head, falling down onto his knees his eyes darted left then right what was going on around him he wanted to know. Men in white leggings long blue coats muskets at the ready were racing up deck, cannons were rolling back and forth with each fire, the ropes flinching with the full weight of the gun. Half excited half terrified Cameron stayed transfixed on the man striding down the steps his frame seemed about average for the crew though his appearance resembled the picture books. Standing no less than 6 feet away was the great man himself Admiral Nelson, he was talking to someone in his direction, Cameron was frozen, hoping that no one could see him, his mouth became dry, there was commotion to his right, four men carrying huge wicker trays made there way past Admiral Nelson and up the steps. The image started to blur, gone, the images had vanished.
Taking deep breaths Cameron placed his hands on the seat bringing himself back into the present day. Looking around the few people who were on the train were getting on with their own business, he didn't seem to have alarmed anyone.

Wondering were he was, he looked at his phone nearly 10:03. "Excuse me"  said Cameron as a young lady was passing bye, " Are we near Portsmouth?"
"Nearly, only another twenty minutes." Replied the young lady.
Cameron had noticed she was wearing a light blue twin set with gold buttons on the cuffs. She wore black knee length with a block heel. Was this confirmation that what was happening in his vision 200 years ago was real.
He'd been dreaming for over two hours yet it felt like five minutes.
Visiting HMS Victory Cameron was hoping to gleam more to what happened that fatal day, there must be clues.
Suddenly Cameron was overwhelmed with a passion that he had never know, a passion that sought justice, valour and honour, why had so many men died? After all, these people had led their  country to honour, won victories above and beyond the requests of the Monarchs, only to be accused of false lies, ending in their bloodshed. When the serfs and common people turned against them in a flurry of rhetoric perused by words from the Church and Crown, followed by fear from the sword, burnings and rape were then used to control the masses.
Cameron put these last thoughts out of his mind, now was not the time to think negatively, or was it positively: oh,no another conundrum Cameron inwardly smiled to himself.
Feeling the need to close his eyes Cameron was soon off, he received a vision, a man seated with his back to him was looking towards a pained glass window there were curtains hanging, thick drapes tied back Cameron couldn't see through the glass yet felt grey shapes drifting by. The man wore his hair long reaching past his shoulders it was white hair, like a wig with tight curls in rows like the ones judges wear. Cameron thought. He wore a distinctive blue long jacket with gold braiding very ornate, the cuffs, collar and shoulders were all decorated in the same braiding. Turning his gaze back to the room the walls were pale Wedgwood blue (Cameron chuckled he knew about Wedgwood blue from his Nan she had collected pieces from Prince Charles's wedding to Diana) with white embellished plaster framing each section, the ceiling copied the pattern, every where Cameron looked he sensed wealth and fine taste. The man turned to face Cameron, he was startled the man was none other than Admiral Nelson himself! He spoke in a tired soft voice, " this is my last journey out to sea, I have tried in vain to find an item, Nelson wrung his hands I know not what it is I am searching for, no one has come forth to help. The letters you wrote have all been returned saying they no not what I am seeking. I feel dread, suspicion, this warrant on my life is very serious. Friends and colleagues are not wanting to get involved, I feel, because it might compromise their own position. There is a hand of fear behind the letter from a greater power than I know." Nelson stopped speaking.
Returning back to what Father Jonathon had said:-
Nelson had been given an ultimatum to find an object and return it to the King of Spain or die.
Weeks had passed turning each day into another step of despair, no word came Nelson knew his time was up when a sealed letter arrived, laid on his writing desk aboard the HMS Victory, Nelson opened the letter, blood seeped out across Sapir paper no more needed to be said.