Work on the new Haven residence was proceeding apace, although the nomenclature was naturally causing confusion as to whether they were talking about a new home for the Haven family or a property in New Haven, Conneticut. Which was even more baffling as none of them owned property in North America. Anyway, it would not be soon until the place was fully kitted out for its dual purpose of being both a family home and a bed and breakfast when they were living in Swanage for the other half of the year.
At the end of one of these days, the family had gathered around the fire to relax a bit. "This is all looking pretty good, if I do say so myself," Lord Haven smiled, looking at the paintwork. "The white paint does blend well with all the items attached to the walls."
"Even if the deer head is a bit ghoulish," Zipp added. "I guess that hunting trophy was left there by a previous owner."
"Do you think it's haunted?" Pipp asked. "Because if it is, that'd be so cool."
"Hunting never was to my taste," Lady Haven admitted. "Probably because of our exploits in exotic parts of the world."
"This is news to me," Pipp said. "Where have you been?"
Lord Haven noted this. "Well, one of them occurred in the country I come from. As you know, I was born in South Africa and lived there for about twenty years. I met your mother there, actually."
"What were you doing there, mom?" Zipp asked.
"I was bored of all the landed family things and wanted adventure," Lady Haven replied. "May seem a bit hard to believe now, I know, but we had quite a lot of exciting adventures!"
"Could you tell us one?" Pipp asked. "PLEASE?"
"Of course!" Lord Haven said. "Now then, cast your mind back in time to the early 1990s. Back then, your mother and I were members of an organisation called the Saviours. Parts of the country had severe problems with scrap metal thieves, and myself and my friends put it upon ourselves to try and save as many steam engines as we could."
South Africa, 30 years ago...
Richard looked out of the cab of his engine as he backed it into the nearby yard. "Keep calling me back, Phil!" he called.
"Of course!" 'Phil' replied. 'Phil' was the nickname he used for Elizabeth, an aristocrat who had decided to travel out there to assist with rescuing steam engines. Quite how he'd gotten to Phil from that was a mystery.
"So, what are we rescuing today?" asked the engine Richard was driving. He was this gigantic red slab of a steam engine, with four leading wheels, eight driving wheels, and four trailing wheels. He had a high running board, with white trim, and a circular boiler with a round topped firebox and plate festooned in pipework. A pair of smoke deflectors adorned his smokebox. The tender was similarly massive, and carried plenty of oil and water.
"A Class 15," Richard replied. "One of your brothers, Pieter. Sadly, these blasted scrap thieves seem to think they're especially valuable."
Pieter replied in Afrikaans, a language which Richard could not speak. However, he could figure out from the tone that it was voicing frustration.
"Twenty feet!" Phil called.
"Right, here we go," Richard said, and rolled Pieter into the other engine with a bump as the couplers connected. He then jumped out to get the pipes connected up.
The other engine looked very similar to Pieter, but was painted black. He looked quite scared. "You're not here to take me to a scrapyard, are you?" he asked. "Because if you are, I'm not going."
"We're not," Phil told him. "Tell them that the Saviours are still out there."
The engine instantly looked relieved. "Thank Grubb," the engine replied. "I've been out here for days, not knowing if scrap thieves are in the area."
"Look sharp!" a man called. "Incoming trucks. They look like Toyotas. Probably scrap thieves."
Richard cursed under his breath and got the pipes engaged. "No time to waste! Get onboard and get ready to move!"
The trucks continued to approach as the final checks were made. Phil and the second man, who was armed, boarded the engine that was being towed as Pieter dug into the rails and began to shift the heavy load.
They rumbled onto the main line just in time, doing about forty miles an hour as the trucks drew level.
"They're alongside us!" Phill called down the radio.
"Keep them from getting close!" Richard replied. "If they board the footplate, you'll have a harder time driving them off. I'll try and get us some support."
Haven swung back and picked up a submachine gun before moving back to the other side of the cab. She aimed and fired at the tires on the lead vehicle, sending it flying into the air and crashing into a tree.
Unfortunately, more of their friends came in to support them, including one truck that had been fitted with a belt fed machine gun on the back. It opened fire as Phil and her ally ducked. Bullets bounced off the metalwork, but then again the intention was not to damage the engine. It was to keep heads down.
The other man readied his pistol. "Get ready. Prepare for boarding."
Phil nodded as the first man ascended the ladder. A well placed shot caused him to fall backwards and onto the ground.
More of them started the climb, but the top one fell on them and knocked them all to the floor.
At the front, a heavily armoured truck had drawn level with Pieter, armed to the teeth. A group of men clambered onto the top, equipped with blowtorches and various firearms. Their leader, a large, bald man, began issuing orders in Afrikaans.
"Get down!" Pieter called to Richard, who dived down as a deafening shot rang out. A bullet narrowly missed the controls and smashed a cab window.
"That was lucky!" Richard called.
The second was not so lucky. The round smashed into a pipe and blew it open.
"Oh no. We're losing steam pressure."
"Can you get us some support? A .50 cal is keeping us pinned back here!"
Richard grabbed the radio as best he could, trying to speak over the noise. "David, you there? We need support. Bring the chopper!"
"Understood. I'll be with you in a few minutes."
"We may not have that long!"
"Try to hold on as best you can."
The armoured truck drew closer, with one of them attempting to take swings at Pieter with his blowtorch. Luckily, he missed in all cases.
More weapons fire rang out as several more trucks appeared, each armed to the teeth.
"Barrett M82," Richard noted. "How did they get their hands on one of those?"
He chose to increase speed despite Pieter's steam leak.
"One of them is very close to my cylinder cocks!"
Richard responded by engaging the cylinder cocks, blasting the truck with steam and forcing it to pull away.
"Cavalry's arrived, boys."
Richard looked out of the cab as a helicopter arrived. It opened fire with twin miniguns, blasting the trucks with gunfire and rockets, designed to deal with lightly armoured vehicles.
Phil heard the noise as well as she punched another man off the second engine's footplate. The noise of the gunfire signalled the battle was almost over with the remaining trucks retreating.
"You should be safe now," she told the engine as they rattled away. "What's your name?"
"Nelson," the engine replied.
"That was quite the story!" Zipp said.
"I know," Lady Haven smiled. "We've had quite an exciting life, your father and I."
"Do either if those engines still exist?" Pipp asked.
"Yes indeed," Lord Haven nodded. "Pieter eventually ended up in the care of a friend of mine, who keeps him in a secure compound. The engine we rescued is now in a museum in Scotland, and we must visit him some day."
Lady Haven then got a beep to her phone, and smiled. "The dry cleaner says your clothes will be ready for pickup tomorrow, you two," she said.
"Thanks," Zipp said. "Here's hoping he doesn't mix them up again."