After the really positive response I got to my 7pt oneshot on Paris (thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed it!), I have started writing one of the many awesome ways my mind creates to kill sailors…
The case was inspired by a concert was really held last year with a RAN band, civilian orchestra and a real cannon (with not-real explosives). I was almost disappointed that it all went off without a murder (kidding!)
Please note, that this is NOT related to episode 3.8 "Under Covers" . I just like the pun of the title
Also, this is about the case and the characters and will not be (too) shippery.
It had turned out to be a wonderful day. The crowd that gathered on the foreshore had arrived slowly at first, the threat of rain holding people away. Once the weather stabilised, the families had come, as well as music lovers and friends of the performers.
As a result, the atmosphere was energised, with excited children running back and forth between their parents' picnic blankets and the food stalls.
To one side, a group of men sat. They were not the type of attendees usually expected at this type of day. Their clean uniforms and tidy haircuts marked them apart from the other, more casual and relaxed concertgoers. Their covers had hardly designed for this climate and more than one mother had thought to herself that those boys would have very red faces that night.
The concert was drawing to a close. The final piece to be played was the main reason people had come. The 1812 overture was great on its own, but this day, it was being played with an instrument most fitting. The canon was the reason that most of the little boys (and to be honest, a great number of the dads) had been convinced that an orchestral concert in the park would be a fun way to spend their Saturday.
The piece was reaching its climax and the crowd waited, anticipating the loud blast soon to come. Some of the mothers covered ears of young children and the little boys could hardly stand still.
It came, right on cue, met by squeals of delight and applause.
And then, another sound. The unmistakable, high-pitched scream of a woman who had just witnessed something horrific.
One of the young Seamen lay a few feet away from his buddies. Their faces and crisp, white shirts were splattered with drops of red. Their young friend heaved a breath but did not exhale. His head fell sideward as shocked families backed away from the gruesome sight.
Almost forgotten at the edge of the stage, the mouth of the cannon emitted wisps of smoke, unaware of the chaos it had just created.