A WILLING CAPTIVE

A “Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons” short story

By Lady Hawke

The following story is based on the 1967 TV series created by Sylvia and Gerry Anderson. It is a continuation of my previous story “Two of a Kind” which takes place following the series episodes. Any discrepancies to Century 21 Productions is due to my lack of information and ignorance beyond the 32 aired episodes. There is no intention to alter the Andersons’ vision. My only aim is to entertain. Enjoy and write me in care of Chris Bishop with any comments regarding either story. I would be pleased to hear from you.

When several weeks had passed with only Mysteron false alarms, Colonel White decided to call his most valuable officers to Command Control for a briefing. Before the silver-haired colonel sat three Spectrum men, all wearing their color-coded uniforms and attentive expressions. “I’ve called you here,” White stated from behind his circular dais, “to announce a new initiative at Spectrum. As you are aware, the Angel pilots are required to regularly perform aerial drills and mock fighter maneuvers. As it has been several months since you, yourselves, have experienced such drills, I’m sending you three to a new facility in North America. Powell Military Academy in Rockport, Maine. I’ve been told it offers some fresh and ingenious exercises for those officers who have been away from the academy several years. I trust you three will evaluate these facilities and not disappoint me or Spectrum in successfully completing the drills. I’ll expect a report upon your return. We could all benefit from advanced exercises in hand-to-hand combat and battle tactics. Don’t you agree?”

Uncertain whether the colonel wanted a verbal response to his question, Captain Scarlet glanced at the two men beside him. Captains Blue and Ochre just nodded. “If it means a tactical advantage over the Mysterons, Sir, of course we agree,” he said.

Colonel White ducked his chin approvingly. “Good. You’ll leave in an hour. Pack only what essentials you’ll need for two weeks. You’re to maintain Spectrum’s presence, remain in uniform, and be ready for a recall if the Mysterons surface with a new threat.”

“SIG, Colonel,” Blue chimed rising from his stool. Scarlet followed suit and headed for his locker where he kept his few personal belongings. “Well,” Blue ventured from his own storage closet, “either we’re getting old and rusty, or Colonel White’s feeling antsy.”

Scarlet grimaced at the reference. “Antsy? What do you mean?” He pulled his shaver and comb from their shelf, tucking them into his travel bag.

Blue shrugged. “No news from the Mysterons for weeks, no real threats, only minor false alarms. The colonel can’t help but worry that something big might be just around the corner. He’s keeping us busy so we’re primed for the next threat.”

Closing his locker and zipping his travel bag closed Scarlet shook his head. “The colonel is the most level-headed man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t get antsy, Adam.”

Captain Ochre strode around the bank of lockers, his own travel bag tucked under his arm, ready to go. “The colonel’s conducting maintenance drills,” he said with a half smile. “He knows if we just stand around here and switch duty shifts with each other, we’ll get antsy.”

“So you’re saying he’s using reverse psychology on us,” Blue asked.

“No,” Ochre assured. “He thinks we’re getting old and rusty.”

Scarlet only smiled and moved to leave with his companions when his shoulder epaulets blinked, beeping a light grayish brown. Scarlet paused and answered the hail, his cap mike swinging into place before his lips. “Yes, Dr. Fawn?”

“Captain,” came the doctor’s deep Australian voice through his private earpiece, “I need you to report to sickbay for a few minutes. I’m to conduct some minor surgery. Colonel’s orders.”

“SIG. I’m on my way.” He exchanged a nod with Captain Blue before murmuring, “I’ll see you in the hanger. Keep the engine warm.” He strode off to meet with his physician. Within a half hour he rendezvoused with Blue and Ochre feeling only a twinge of discomfort at his shoulder where Dr. Fawn had slapped on a temporary bandage. Within an hour the small incision would be healed, leaving no scar. “Did I miss anything?” he asked as he followed Captain Blue up into the cockpit of the Spectrum jet.

“Nothing much,” Blue assured. “We heard we’ll all be getting new pistols, though. It seems Spectrum’s designers have created owner-specific grips.” He sat down in the copilot’s seat as Scarlet slid into the pilot’s. Ochre had already strapped into a passenger seat behind them. “The guns’ll be able to recognize our DNA and body temperature.”

“Yes,” Ochre offered from behind Scarlet. “It’ll prevent a Mysteron reconstruction from using the gun of the Spectrum officer it’s just replaced. Dr. Fawn has discovered through comparative studies of your blood and that of Dr. Laurel Tighor’s, that there is a molecular difference between an original person and his reconstruction.”

Dr. Laurel Tighor. Scarlet swallowed. It had been only four months before when the name had meant a vibrant, intelligent young woman, a professor of psychology and lover of sunsets, natural beauty, and quiet serenity. Now the name only garnered a shadowed guilt bordering pain. The woman had unwittingly been involved in a university experiment to recreate Scarlet’s Mysteron-triggered recuperative abilities in another human, using the captain’s own retrometabolistic blood as a serum. The experiment had ultimately been a failure, leaving Tighor vulnerable to illness as her body’s own immune system fought off the alien DNA. She had died at the hands of Captain Black who, seeing her as another indestructible foe, had used Scarlet’s stolen Mysteron gun to murder her.

“Captain Scarlet,” Lieutenant Green hailed through the cockpit’s speaker. “You’re cleared for launch. Enjoy the R and R.”

Blinking back into the present Scarlet spoke into his cap mike. “SIG.”

“Some R and R,” Blue chided from beside him. “Running in the rain, crawling through the dust, swinging through the trees? That’s relaxing?”

“At least we’ll be busy doing something,” reminded Ochre as Scarlet snapped his last restraint in and pushed the jet’s joystick forward. The plane rolled along the airbase carrier’s runway and dove out into the morning glare of a promising day. “As I was saying,” Ochre continued, “Dr. Fawn noticed during his post-mortem examination that elements of Dr. Tighor’s reconstruction were definitely different. With these new guns programmed with ID chips to our present DNA, we’ll be able to avoid such circumstances as when Captains Brown and Indigo were lost to the Mysterons and their reconstructions were able to infiltrate our ranks.”

Despite his distracting thoughts Scarlet was able to counter, “But in a close fire fight, if we were to lose our own weapons and pick up another’s, we wouldn’t be able to use it. We’d be defenseless.” He shook his head. “The chances don’t outweigh the risk.”

“I disagree,” Blue argued. “The threat of one of us being taken by the Mysterons is ever more probable since they’ve begun their new war of nerves. We need that small bit of insurance. Besides, how many times have you needed to use my gun instead of your own, Captain?” he asked.

“Four months ago,” Scarlet snapped then fell silent. He was sure Captain Blue would remember the incident. Cornered with a Mysteron gun held at his chest, Scarlet had shot Dr. Tighor in the heart with Captain Blue’s gun. The hope was that Tighor’s Mysteron reconstruction would recover from the wound, her own identity reclaimed as had happened with Scarlet three years before. The attempt had failed, and so Scarlet had found himself again pitted against the woman he had grown to love, this time with the more lethal Mysteron gun in his arms. Twice saved by him, Tighor had been twice killed by the same, loving hands.

“S…sorry,” Blue murmured. No further discussion was offered. They arrived at Rockport’s seaside military academy within two hours, were cleared for tactical drills, and given a three hour seminar on the base’s facilities and purpose. By dinner Captain Blue was excitedly touting the complex’s mixture of on-site, realistic simulations and computer virtual reality devices. “This one facility can provide every training scenario a soldier would need to become proficient in over eighty-seven tactical and military skills,” he said digging into his plate of roast pork with hungry relish. “Spectrum could save a lot of money having us train in one place instead of sending our troupes on fake combat missions abroad.”

“I disagree. There’s something lost when you’re sitting with a remote monitor over your head, knowing what you’re looking at is only a 3-D, computer generated enemy,” Captain Ochre countered skewering his salad. “You don’t enjoy the true reflexes and adrenaline rush of a real encounter, even those within a mock battle.”

“That’s why they have the outdoor training facility on the grounds. Physical training, combat exercises, it’s all still here. What do you think of the place, Captain?” Blue asked glancing Scarlet’s way.

Captain Scarlet dipped his spoon into his soup and hesitated before answering. They were sitting in the officer’s mess hall. U.S. Army, Marine and Air Force officers were seated around them indulging in the culinary faire as well. He didn’t wish to insult his hosts. “The complex is very sophisticated, and the grounds are as beautiful as they are well-suited to the military’s needs,” he agreed. “But nothing replaces on-site experiences. You can train only so much into a soldier, through simulations or other means. One is never fully ready to face the enemy and predict the outcome until such time as one does face that enemy.”

“The enemy being…?” Blue challenged.

“One’s enemy takes many forms,” Scarlet warned setting down his spoon and picking up a roll to butter it. “A man can be at odds with himself at times.”

Ochre smiled. “I believe the captain’s being philosophical to please the masses,” he whispered into Blue’s ear as he reached for the salt. They surveyed the room to see the military brass talking quietly amongst themselves yet stealing glances their way. The Spectrum officers were colorful fish in an aquarium of khaki grays, greens and navies. “We are the visitors here,” Ochre reminded. “Don’t be surprised if some of the student recruits skip their classes to watch us at our drills. They’re no doubt curious about Spectrum.” He perked up in his seat and set his fork down. With a grin he announced, “We could garner some recruits, ourselves, while we’re here.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Blue chided. “If this facility offers what we need, we may request its use regularly. It’s between the North American government and Spectrum if this place gets to be our new permanent training camp.”

“Meanwhile we’re here to establish good relations and test out the facilities,” Scarlet reminded nibbling on his roll.

“Old and rusty, my eye,” Blue grumbled. His sky blue eyes gleamed with mischief, however. Scarlet knew him to always be ready for a challenge. “I say we give these grunts a sprint for their dollars.”

With a smug grin, Scarlet nodded. “Agreed, Captain Blue.” Further speculation was saved until they had retired to their quarters for the night. Drills would begin in the morning. As they unpacked their few belongings Scarlet offered, “I think I’ll take a walk around the grounds. Alone.”

Blue considered his serious demeanor. “What do you want us to do?”

“Stay here in case anyone stops by. If they ask, say I’m in the shower.” Scarlet slid his pistol into his holster and readjusted the kepi atop his head.

“You’re suspicious of something, Captain. What is it?” Blue inquired rising from his bunk by the curtained window.

Scarlet could only shrug. “I’m not sure, Adam. A feeling only. Probably nothing.” With a sigh he concluded, “Tomorrow we’re issued our new weapons and begin field drills. Perhaps I’m just antsy. Like you said. I need to let off some steam.” He forced a smile. “I’ll see you later.” He strode out into the corridor of their barracks, following the stripe-rimmed carpet to the exit. Pausing at the doors Scarlet scanned the military academy’s campus with its path-lit shadows and dark sky. “Just a feeling,” he murmured and stepped out into the night for a stroll of the area.

As Scarlet surveyed the well-lit trails and lush-landscaped campus his eyes discerned the many places where an ambush could be set. If any of the academy’s students were about, he saw none of them during his stroll. Yet his internal alarm system was somehow heightened. Was it a Mysteron threat he sensed? Or was he just on edge because it had been so long since the enemy had announced its intentions? Would the Mysterons ever again warn the world and Spectrum of their planned attacks, or were they now inclined to keep their objectives to themselves? Was it this uncertainty which had Scarlet on edge? With a frown, he turned back toward the barracks and his comrades. He would try to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

Practice drills began at sunrise, before breakfast. Dressed in a blue, slick running suit, Blue jogged the quarter-mile track, his oxygen monitor beeping his fitness level. "They certainly want us to work up an appetite," he complained. Beside him, clothed in a matching red suit, Scarlet humphed in agreement, but refrained from comment. Ochre, with his well-toned jogger legs, was already ahead by several meters. “I forgot just how enjoyable these military drills could be,” Blue huffed as he picked up the pace to catch Captain Ochre.

Scarlet smiled. “Old and rusty,” he breathed and sprinted forward leaving his friend behind. It wasn’t until nine-thirty that they were allowed a ten minute shower before returning to uniforms and downing their morning meal. “I could eat an entire hen’s worth of eggs, I’m so hungry,” Scarlet sighed as he settled into his chair at the mess hall table. Setting down his cap, he dug into his omelette with cheer.

“Did you notice our fans in the bleachers?” Ochre asked as he too partook of the food before him.

Scarlet nodded sipping his hot Earl Grey tea. He had seen the young military recruits leaning against the backside of the bleacher seats along the perimeter of the track as they had jogged their five miles. “We’re the talk of the campus. Get use to it.”

Blue glanced around the mess hall before adding. “Maybe Rick’s right. We’re either gaining a fan club or we’re the laughing stock of the academy. Three old coots trying to regain our youth. Pretty sad picture, if you ask me.”

Scarlet smirked. “Speak for yourself, Captain. It’s only been six years since I was one of those gawkers. Uniforms always fascinated me as a young man. I’m sure they were just doing some wishful thinking.”

“If you recall,” Blue reminded, “we weren’t wearing our uniforms at the time. Jogging shorts don’t exactly seem dignified, much less prim and proper attire for a Spectrum officer.” Blue scooped into his eggs and mumbled over his food, “You can be sure, though, they’ll be out at the observatory tower watching our camo-drill later.”

Scarlet shook his head over his teacup. “The academy commander, General Willets, promised we’d have the field to ourselves. No distractions, no interruptions.”

“Good.”

“Yes,” Ochre agreed spreading jelly on his toast. “Classes started at seven-thirty. All academy students were told to report to their instructors.” Then he smiled, toast poised at his lips. “We can watch them conduct their drills on the camo-fields later, though.” He shrugged. “Return the favor.”

Blue joined in Ochre’s enthusiasm. “I’m looking forward to it.”

As the three finished their meals and moved to leave, Blue took up the lead. They were to meet Major Houston at the training field for a tour of the area before beginning their exercise. There, they would trade their colorful Spectrum attire for camouflage-wear and prepare for the first of several drills. The object: to secure the observation tower, with its tracking scopes and paint-bullet rifle, without being detected.

Striding out into the central courtyard, Blue flinched and sank to his knees clutching his shoulder when a large, dark object fell from the sky.

“Adam!” Scarlet yelped as he moved to support his fallen friend. “What happened?”

“Look,” Captain Ochre announced kneeling to consider the rectangular item lying beside them. The brick was chipped and still smattered with traces of dried mortar. “Someone wanted to send a definite message.”

“Someone doesn’t want us here,” Blue groaned gripping his injured shoulder where the projectile had smashed against flesh.

Scarlet scanned the multi-storied buildings around the square. “Unfortunately, I agree with you, Captain. This was no accident. That brick didn’t just fall from a building. We’re not that close. It was thrown from a window.”

“One of the academy cadets?” Blue asked with a grimace.

“Possibly. Someone must have pried that brick from a retaining wall and bided his time.” Scarlet helped his injured friend to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you to the infirmary. We’ll see to that shoulder before we meet with Major Houston.”

Once Captain Blue’s shoulder was evaluated and immobilized in a sling, the three proceeded to the camo-field. Major Houston apologized for the incident before showing the Spectrum officers around the arena where they were to conduct their exercise. As they strolled the grounds, Houston regretted, “You’ll have to stand down from the drill, I’m afraid, Captain Blue. Your left shoulder’s too bruised for such strenuous activity.”

“I understand, Sir. I’m disappointed, but eager to learn some advanced techniques while my companions here scratch in the dirt without me.”

Houston chuckled. “You can stand with me in the observation tower and oversee my evaluations. Once we’ve completed a post-drill critique, Captains Ochre and Scarlet here will be sent into the field again to implement their improvements.” The major paused beside a tree to overlook the open field with its abundance of brush, grasses and trees. With a sigh, he announced. “We’ll do it until we get it right.”

“SIG, Major,” Scarlet snapped. They prepared for their drill.

Since Blue’s bruised and strained left shoulder left him sidelined, he climbed up into the tower to oversee the field beside Major Houston. Bending over the extra field scope to watch, Blue commented, “Now this could be rather interesting.” Ochre and Scarlet were sent into the field’s far quarter to begin their approach. Blue kept an eye on the brush and greenery for any sign of his companions.

At the southern perimeter, captains Ochre and Scarlet began their creeping, stealthy trek across the field. As they sank to their stomachs to crawl toward the closest cover Scarlet’s head began to pound. In his gut a fluttering sensation told him something was amiss. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. When he paused and pressed his fingertips against his throbbing, camouflaged temples, Ochre asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Scarlet mumbled from the dried grass. “I’ll be fine. Continue forward,” he instructed. They proceeded through the brush. The aching in his head faded. When Ochre and he had made it nearly three quarters of the way to the observation tower undetected, that warning sense returned. Again he paused along their intended path.

“Watch out!” Ochre warned. “Get down!” Bullets flew and hit the tree trunk beside him.

Scarlet ducked in time to see the sniper rifle barrel swivel to glisten in the sun. The shot had been fired from the observation platform. Major Houston and Captain Blue were in danger. His warning sense had been right. A Mysteron assassin was near. Without his cap, however, he couldn’t warn his friend. “I’m going up there. Adam’s in danger.”

“What are you-“ Scarlet bolted forward before Ochre could finish his question. Swiftly he made his way to his friend, dodging and twisting, hiding among the greenery and bushes to avoid being an easy target for another shot. When he had slid behind a bush just sixty meters from the tower, Scarlet finally called out, “Captain Blue! Are you all right?” As Scarlet peaked from his hiding spot he could see the sniper pivoting the gun in his direction was none other than Blue himself. Scarlet’s own voice had betrayed his location.

“I’m fine, Captain,” Blue called back, leaning over and sighting along the weapon set atop a tripod. “I’m just fine.” Blue squinted through the rifle’s long-range scope. “But you gave yourself away. The point of the exercise is to stay hidden.”

“What?” Concerned and confused, Scarlet stood away from his cover. He saw Blue lower the rifle barrel toward his chest. The weapon fired. Grunting in pain Scarlet landed hard on the ground. A dark red smear adorned his camouflage jacket. Scarlet gasped a tight half-breath from the impact.

“Got ya!” Blue cried triumphantly. “Not that you made it challenging.”

Scarlet looked again at his chest. He had been hit by a rubber bullet with paint ball. He’d lost the exercise. “But, I was sure something was wrong,” he murmured to himself. Stiffly he climbed back to his feet. Ochre soon joined him.

Behind the two Spectrum officers, hidden from view, stood a dark figure a rifle poised in black-clad arms. What Scarlet hadn’t realized was that there had indeed been a sniper, a Mysteron agent, who had targeted both Captain Ochre and the British officer. When the shots from the tower had wrung out, Captain Black had lost his chance to fire. He faded back into the bushes to await another opportunity.

Afterward, during lunch, Captains Ochre and Blue had a good laugh as Blue explained, “Since my shoulder’s too sore to be crawling among the ants with you two, the major suggested I man the targeting gun.” He shrugged. “I thought it might be fun.” Then he smiled. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Scarlet, eating his meal in silence beside them, declined from explaining the reasons for his actions, despite Ochre’s curious questioning. Somehow Scarlet’s warning sense had betrayed him, and it had put his comrades in jeopardy. He didn’t wish to admit the false alarm to either man. The British captain remained stalwart for the remainder of the day, unaware his friends stole concerned glances his way.

After further calisthenics and athletic exercises, the day’s activites were complete. Drills were to recommence the next morning. As of the moment, Scarlet was in last place of the rating’s standings. Scarlet was still broodingly quiet while Blue, who had gained extra points for his actions, was self-satisfied and talkative through the remaining exercises, despite his still throbbing arm being confined in a sling.

That evening in their quarters, Scarlet sat at his desk trying to read a tactical field manual. As his companions dozed upon their bunks from the day’s busy schedule, however, grim reflections repeatedly distracted the British officer. He knew the Mysterons had been silent too long. The aliens had something planned for sure, though they were not telling. The enemy had hinted at a greater agenda than revenge. Scarlet, himself, had been an unadvertised target for a time.

Could the Mysterons be learning human traits? Could they have grown deceitful, devious, declining to inform their adversaries of their intentions? If so, he and the Spectrum Organization had to be ever on the alert to any abnormal movements of humankind. A tall order, considering humans made mistakes and could be expected to fall to greed, selfishness, pride, and other failings from time to time. Perhaps the Mysterons could be just as fallible now that they seemed to have adapted to this world’s vices. An advantage for Earth? With a sigh Scarlet resigned to the futility of reading and shut the textbook before him. Perhaps if he ‘slept on it’, as Blue had once suggested when Scarlet was troubled, he would feel more focused and enlightened by morning.

Scarlet’s sleep was restless that night, however. He was unaware that his mumblings awakened both Blue and Ochre. Their concern was voiced the next morning at breakfast. “You tossed and turned half the night, Old Buddy,” Blue informed, his fork poised over his stack of buttermilk pancakes. “You seem to be taking your failure at the camo-field a little too hard. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Adam,” Scarlet assured, picking at his own plate. “It’s just that…” With a huff he admitted, “I felt something yesterday. The way I can sometimes tell when a Mysteron is near. I was sure you were in trouble. I… guess that sixth sense of mine isn’t all that reliable.”

Captain Ochre grinned over his eggs. “To err is human,” he assured. “Don’t let it ruin your score. The big blond guy here already has a big enough ego.”

In reply Scarlet forced a smirk. “Are you accusing me of slacking, Captain?”

Again that sly grin. “No. I’m just wondering if Colonel White was right.”

Scarlet straightened in his chair. Seriously he inquired, “About my ability to detect Mysterons?”

“No,” Ochre dismissed with a sour grimace. “That one of us is getting old and rusty. Lighten up, Paul.” Ochre sighed at the missed humor and returned to his breakfast. Further conversation dragged until the exercises began again.

In an unoccupied lecture hall Major Houston reviewed the failed stealth exercise of the previous day. The discussion included surveillance video shot from various hidden cameras along the field route. Scarlet and his comrades listened and watched as the major used his pointer to indicate alternate strategies of approach. So far, no mention of Scarlet’s blunder, though the captain was waiting for the reprimand. Then, as the video switched angles, Captain Ochre raised a finger to the hanging viewscreen. “Look,” he announced. “What’s that?”

All four men examined the passing frames more closely.

“Go back,” advised Blue. “I didn’t see anything.”

“In the bushes behind Captain Scarlet and me. I thought I saw a shadow,” Ochre explained. Houston rewound the tape a bit then hit the replay button on the machine atop his lecture podium. “There,” Ochre insisted. “A shadow.”

“A shadow of what?” Houston asked squinting to consider the screen. The suspicious image vanished. “Perhaps a bird flew by overhead, or it was a squirrel. Those pesky rodents are always setting off the perimeter alarms. They chew on the cameras’ power cables. Damn things think we’re handing out seed at a bird feeder, especially now that autumn’s in full swing.”

“Try a still frame, Major,” Scarlet suggested leaning forward in his chair and urging his own eyes to distinguish the blurry target. With a reluctant sigh, Houston complied, rewinding the tape then advancing it frame by frame. “That’s it,” Scarlet confirmed with a nod. “That’s what you saw, Rick.” A shadowy figure appeared for a moment on the viewscreen, then disappeared in the next frame. “Go back one, Sir.” Houston poked the reverse button then froze the image.

Hidden among the spreading branches of a thick bush was a black silhouette. Its borders were obscured by the foliage, but there was no doubting the size of the shadow. “Too big to be a squirrel,” Blue observed from his seat. “That looks like a man kneeling there.”

“That can’t be,” Houston countered. “There was no one out on the field but Captains Scarlet and Ochre. And they were slinking along the ground as they should have been. Where’s the man to go with that shadow?”

“Precisely,” Scarlet agreed with a grim frown.

“Wait,” Blue interrupted. “You’re not suggesting…”

“A Mysteron agent,” Ochre finished. “Your feelings were right, Captain Scarlet.”

“It would seem,” Scarlet contended sitting back in his chair. With a determined breath Scarlet scrutinized his options. His eyes narrowed at the indistinct form stalled upon the screen. “We can’t be sure. The image is too fuzzy, too brief for a confirmation.”

Captain Blue wasn’t so indecisive. “Well, shouldn’t we at least put the base on alert? Contact Colonel White about this?”

Straightening his shoulders, Scarlet folded his hands atop the long table before him. “No, Adam. I made a mistake yesterday. I won’t be accused of paranoia. This image may only be a fluke of the camera equipment. Until we have real evidence of Mysteron intervention, we can’t send the entire base on alert. A false alarm is just what the aliens would like us to do.”

“I’m not in complete agreement with you, Captain,” Blue countered, “but I’ll comply with your caution.” Together, the officers finished their briefing and returned to the camo-fields to conduct another stealth drill. This time Scarlet was successful in reaching the target undetected, as was Ochre. Blue, the contention of earlier forgotten, was congratulatory. “I’m glad to see your mind’s back on your work,” he said.

Several more days passed and still no Mysteron threat was evident. Scarlet, too, had nearly forgotten his previous concerns when his internal warning system kicked in again. This time, it was target practice on an open range. Blue was firing his new handgun and making some progress with the improved sight. Ochre was talking to the firing range instructor, Sergeant Douglas, who assured them, “Only the original owner can fire his weapon. It’s the best solution, considering the Mysteron threat. All other precautions have been ruled minimal risk. According to military statisticians, this is Spectrum’s best option.”

Scarlet continued his protest from his stance before the target range. His blue eyes narrowed along the pistol’s sight. Pausing before firing he argued, “I’m still not convinced, Sergeant. There have been times, in a firefight, when there’s been a need to grab what was available. It wasn’t necessarily our own weapon.” As he stated these reservations, his head began to ache. Reaching for his temple, he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could warn his fellows, however, shots fired from the target range. All four men dove for the dirt, their guns flying from their hands. “It’s a sniper!” Scarlet yelped his hand aching from the impact of a bullet. He could tell from their twisted bodies that his friends and Sergeant Douglas were all injured and bleeding as well. “Stay down,” he ordered.

“Those weren’t rubber bullets,” Blue admitted grasping his arm.

“Where’s my gun?” Ochre asked gruffly.

Scarlet probed the firing range for their sniper with a sweeping glare, trying to discern where the enemy was hidden. “There!” he said pointing to the figure striding from the bushes to the right of the targets. “It’s Captain Black.”

“Stay where you are, Earthmen,” the dark-clad figure droned drawing near, his rifle held at the ready. “I do not intend to kill, but one of you must leave with me.”

“What for?” Scarlet challenged, even as he reached for the gun beneath his leg.

“They’re at it again,” Blue assured. “They want you for something, Paul. And they won’t say what.”

Black pivoted his rifle toward Blue’s head. “Captain Scarlet, you will leave with me or this one dies.” In response, Scarlet tugged the gun out from beneath him to glance down and notice the ochre stripe atop the barrel. Even if he were able to aim, Scarlet wouldn’t be able to fire. “I will kill him,” Black assured his pallid finger moving to the rifle’s trigger.

“All right,” Scarlet answered releasing the gun and shoving himself from the dirt. Only grazed by the Mysteron’s weapon Scarlet stood before his foe, hands raised. “I’ll leave with you, Captain Black. But you must guarantee their safety.”

“We want only you,” Black answered lowering his gun. Scarlet stepped forward to join his side.

“You can’t go, Paul,” Blue warned from the ground. “They’ll use you. They’ll make you give up Spectrum cipher codes.” Scarlet looked back at his friend, remembering the time when Mysteron agents had kidnapped Captain Blue, deceiving him into almost revealing such codes.

“I’ll be all right, Captain. Get yourselves to hospital for your injuries. I’ll contact Cloudbase as soon as I can.” As Scarlet turned to leave with Black, he saw the Mysteron still had his rifle aimed at his comrades. Blue must have grabbed for his weapon. Black fired and Scarlet spun to see the pistol skid away in a cloud of dust. "No, Adam,” he warned. “Don’t try anything.”

Though Blue wanted to protest further, he watched from the dirt as Scarlet was led away. He didn’t try for his gun again. Instead he considered his two other injured comrades. Captain Ochre had a weeping hole in his side, but was still conscious. Douglas seemed dead with a bloody smear at the center of his chest. Blue’s right arm had been punctured through the muscle. It was quickly numbing to his commands. With a growl the American captain knew he must see to the wounded first. When Black and Scarlet were out of sight, Blue rose to his feet and helped Ochre to sit. “Careful, Rick. We’ll get you taken care of.”

Grimacing in pain, Ochre grunted, “He wasn’t surprised. Scarlet was expecting this.”

“Are you sure?” Blue countered supporting his friend with his still bruised left arm. “If so, why didn’t he let us in on it? He jeopardized all our lives by not putting the base on alert. The Colonel should know about this.” Blue shook his head as Ochre rose to his feet beside him. “This isn’t like Paul.” Blue brooded over the incident until he and Ochre had returned to Cloudbase.

Later, in Command Control, Colonel White listened grimly to Captain Blue’s report.

“So, Captain Black has finally resurfaced and succeeded in his attempt to obtain Scarlet.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. Captain Scarlet said he had a feeling something was awry, but he dismissed it as I did. We were both caught off guard.” He slumped slightly at the aching in his right arm. Dr. Fawn had just finished removing the bullet and immobilizing the arm in a sling. He was on medical leave and useless to help his captured friend. “Captain Black must have somehow sneaked through the base’s security perimeter. The surveillance cameras show nothing. We only got a glimpse once of a shadow, but Paul, I mean, Captain Scarlet said it wasn’t good enough evidence to put the base on alert.”

“It’s not your fault, Captain,” White assured. “This day was bound to occur. We can only wait for Scarlet to contact us.”

“But Colonel, we can’t just sit around and-“

“Yes we can, Captain. You and Captain Ochre are on medical leave until further notice. We’ll handle it from here. Dismissed.” As Blue reluctantly turned to exit Command Control, he paused when White addressed his communications officer, “Lieutenant Green, are you getting a satellite fix on Scarlet’s location?”

“Yes, Sir,” Green answered from his seat as he slid along the floor conveyor to the transmission readout. “The microchip Dr. Fawn installed beneath Captain Scarlet’s skin is emitting a strong signal. He’s on the ground moving North/Northwest of Powell Military Academy. It looks like they’re heading for the nearest airport, Warren Airbase.”

“He’s got a tracking chip?” Blue asked stalled at the door.

“Just as Scarlet anticipated,” White surmised, ignoring Blue’s outburst. “They’ll be leaving the immediate area by plane. I want Warren on secret alert. They are not to move any troupes or set up any roadblocks. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Sir,” Green acknowledged twisting his chair to contact Warren Airbase with the news.

“He knew all along,” Blue continued from the door. “Captain Scarlet set himself up as bait? He, you , Sir, set us up as secondary targets. We could have been killed, Colonel.” The captain approached the commander’s round dais. “Now he’s defenseless.”

White considered the younger man’s solid stance. “He’s defenseless, but the only man for the job, Captain,” the colonel assured. “Our covert operations team has pieced together a report that the Mysterons may have a command base here on Earth. This was the only way Spectrum could surmise to discover that base.” White turned his attention back to his communications officer. “Lieutenant. Launch all Angels. I want a discreet reconnaissance mission. Understood? They can’t give away the fact that we’re tracking Scarlet.”

The sleek Angel aircraft were airborne in minutes, heading for the Maine training facility. Once over the target area, the fighters swept the skies, outwardly seeming to survey the ground for additional Mysteron activities. In truth they were monitoring Scarlet with their onboard electromagnetic sensing equipment. “Colonel,” Destiny reported in. “Captain Scarlet is still on the surface. We’re tracking his location. He’s definitely heading for Warren’s Airbase.”

“Once there, Captain Black will probably force him to requisition a Spectrum jet,” White surmised. “Destiny Angel. Fall back. Don’t get too close. Black will assume we’ll have the base on alert, but I don’t want you three buzzing around making him nervous. We’ll let him take off. Then follow discreetly.”

“SIG, Cloudbase.”

Captain Scarlet was compliant as Black had him drive his Spectrum saloon toward the North American air base. Finally, hands busy upon the steering wheel, he ventured, “When are you going to tell me what you want and where we’re going?” Silence was his only answer. Black had so far only given him directions. Perhaps with patience Scarlet could discover more of what the Mysterons intended, whether the alien race had all along planned to conquer the Earth when they had initially claimed to be peaceful. If he had a chance to gain intelligence information, the last thing he and Spectrum wanted was the Angels shooting his plane down. To keep up appearances, Scarlet decided to play his hand. “Unless you can assure me of my safety, I will try to escape. You must realize that.”

“Do not worry, Captain. You will not be harmed.”

“Then what do you want? Information? I’ll die before I give you Spectrum’s cipher codes.”

Black leaned back in his seat, gun at the ready. With a satisfied smirk he gave Scarlet a sideways glance and reminded, “You can not die, Captain.”

Scarlet swallowed that truth. They didn’t have to kill him to put the captain or others in jeopardy. He realized, then, he indeed needed to stay with this agent in order to fulfill his mission. If Scarlet could locate their supposed base, discover the Mysterons’ true intentions, the information would be invaluable to Spectrum, to Earth. Nonetheless, he understood his peril. There would be only choice opportunities to escape, to pass what knowledge he had garnered. The Mysterons had tried twice to obtain him. Now they had succeeded. His foes would never release him without good reason. Scarlet must be cautious and observant waiting for just the right moment.

Black interrupted his thoughts with a growling command. “Drive the saloon in through the security gate of Warren Airbase. Show the guard your pass, then drive on to the Spectrum hangars.” So. Black wanted a Spectrum jet. With it, he could quickly whisk the captured Spectrum officer to any location with a strip of land large enough to serve as a runway. Scarlet followed the Mytseron agent’s instructions. The guard at the gate gave no indication he was aware of anything amiss, yet Scarlet noticed the security lieutenant gave the saloon’s passenger more than a passing glance. Colonel White would have already directed the base to reinforce security, but to refrain indicating alarm. Warren Airbase, it seemed, was also following orders to assist in the collection of perhaps vital intelligence on the enemy.

Once Scarlet navigated the saloon through the Spectrum checkpoint, Black instructed, “Head for the hangar, Captain.” Scarlet complied, turning the wheels into the unpretentious arch-roofed building. Inside, hidden among what looked like empty shipping crates piled amid the hangar floor were Spectrum’s fully equipped vehicles, ready for deployment as needed. Now Black needed one to transport his hostage to an undisclosed Mysteron base somewhere in North America. Spectrum Intelligence had been uncertain of its exact location. That was now Scarlet’s job.

He parked the saloon in a side slot along the outer wall of the hangar. Black raised his pistol. “Exit the vehicle and walk to the Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle behind those crates,” he ordered.

“I thought we’d be taking a passenger jet,” Scarlet countered as he slid from the saloon to stand beside the vehicle.

Black waved his pistol away from the car toward a tower of wooden boxes. “You will follow my instructions and pilot the SPV, Captain Scarlet. Remember your comrades at the Powell Training Academy. You would not want additional Earthcitizens to be injured,” the deathly pale agent cautioned.

With a comprehending nod, Scarlet reminded, “I’ll need to use my ID to clear it with security.” Black only followed, pistol innocently at his side, as Scarlet stepped to the young man jawing gum and leaning back in a chair just outside the hangar office. “I need to requisition a Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle,” he told the boy. The fellow tugged at his grimy overalls and pushed his chair back onto its four legs before rising to duck within the glass paneled cubicle. When he returned he was carrying what looked like a common clipboard, but was in fact a sophisticated DNA scanner. After accepting Scarlet’s thumb swipe against the sandpaper-like surface, the young mechanic nodded the Spectrum captain’s clearance and pointed out through the glass office windows to a particular stack of crates. “Thank you,” Scarlet acknowledged and led Black to the SPV. One tower of crates, upon close inspection, revealed its hidden door, tiny hinges set into the crates’ aligned joints. Swinging the door open, Scarlet considered his now third chance to escape the single weapon pointed again at his back. The Spectrum officer could have ejected from the saloon along the road. He could have ducked behind the parked vehicle and dove for the relative safety of the hangar office. Now, Scarlet watched as Black followed him in to the hollow enclave where sat a silver SPV. He let the door swing back unassisted to camouflage the crates' contents once more. Scarlet could have used such a barrier to slam the gun out of Black’s ready hand. Now, he simply poked the electronic door release and climbed up into the armored vehicle with Captain Black his constant shadow.

Scarlet strapped in and activated the forwardview monitor set into the rear wall of the driver’s compartment. “Once around the block, Conrad. Then home for tea?” he quipped as Black sat across the center isle from him and secured himself with single-handed dexterity, never letting the gun or his eerie dark eyes to waver from their target.

“Drive out of the hangar, then pivot 180 degrees to starboard,” Black said.

“Why?” Scarlet asked. When Black declined an explanation, he shrugged. “And I thought we might enjoy some pleasantries before afternoon tea.” The forced humor was of course lost on the Mysteron. It seemed no humanity had survived the former Spectrum officer’s resurrection.

Scarlet eased the accelerator forward monitoring the viewscreen as the SPV burst from its wooden cocoon in a shower of splinters. The torpedo-like vehicle rolled out into the sunlight beyond the hangar. “One hundred eighty degrees, Captain.” Black ordered again. As Scarlet reluctantly complied, pivoting the vehicle to face the hangar, he watched in horror as Black raised a pallid hand to activate the SPV’s rocket cannon.

“No! You can’t,” Scarlet insisted even as Black pressed the trigger and launched an explosive missile in through the open hangar doors. Inside, the flammable wood and refueling tanks exploded in a ball of incendiary fireworks. The hangar and all within were cleansed in a roaring torrent of heat and flames. As Scarlet sat, a helpless witness, all evidence of their passage was instantly incinerated. “I’m sure you had some twisted reason for that!” Scarlet demanded. A young mechanic and several other innocent people had just been murdered before his eyes. In answer to Scarlet’s outburst Black only nodded.

Minutes later, Destiny, Rhapsody, and Harmony roared over Warren’s Spectrum hangar. Their long range sensors had detected the take off of a Spectrum jet. “Something’s wrong, Sir,” Destiny informed Colonel White. “Part of the airbase is ablaze. We can see firefighter equipment on the scene. And we’re not getting Captain Scarlet’s homing signal from the airborne jet.”

“I’m registering him still on the ground, Colonel,” Lt. Green informed from his station at Command Control. “They’re heading South now, toward the city.”

Colonel White ordered, “Destiny Angel, follow the jet for twenty minutes. It’s most probably a Mysteron decoy. Let’s give Scarlet a head start before you return to track him.”

“SIG, Cloudbase,” came the French woman’s reply.

White turned to Lt. Green, “Contact Captains Grey and Magenta, Lieutenant. Have them follow on the ground in an unmarked car. They should be to Warren’s Airbase by now.” Once that was done, White ordered, “We’ve played ignorance long enough. Lt. Green, I want you to hail Scarlet. If he’s still in possession of his cap and conscious, maybe we can garner some intelligence before Black cuts him off.”

“Yes, Sir,” Green acknowledged and spun in his chair to contact Captain Scarlet.

In the SPV Scarlet answered the call, though Black warned, “Say little or I will shoot to maim.”

Scarlet eyed the pistol in Black’s pallid hand. “Yes, Colonel?” he asked into his cap microphone.

“Are you unharmed, Captain? We’ve got you in a Spectrum jet heading North/Northwest at 180 KPH.”

“I’m fine, Colonel,” Scarlet answered as he piloted the SPV along one of Maine’s rural roads. So. The tracking chip was working, and Cloudbase knew he was travelling in the opposite direction from the decoy jet. “There may be injured in the hangar, Sir. Captain Black-“ He had to interrupt his expose. Black had raised his gun to Scarlet’s heart.

“We understand. We’ll have medical personnel there immediately. Has Captain Black issued a ransom or explained his reasoning for taking you?”

Scarlet thought fast. This was his one chance to reveal some clue to his superior. Unfortunately, he knew too little as yet to pass along. He needed to learn more before making his escape. “No, Sir. I’m not-“

Captain Black swiped Scarlet’s cap from his head. Flinching at the action, Scarlet sent the SPV careening toward the graded shoulder of the road. He was just able to pull the vehicle back on course before it collapsed into the bordering ditch.

“There will be no further communications, Captain,” Black ordered crushing the microphone beneath his foot. “You must not know where we are going.” Suddenly a smaller, more slim pistol was in Black’s hand. Had the Mysteron agent possessed the second gun all along, or had it just materialized with the help of the alien’s magical technologies? Black squeezed the slim weapon’s trigger. As Scarlet collapsed in his seat, Black took over the driving from his side. The anesthetic dart’s effect was instantaneous; Scarlet knew nothing of their final destination.

On Cloudbase, Spectrum continued to track Captain Scarlet’s whereabouts until he disappeared off the wall screen. “What happened?” White demanded spinning his dais from the projected map to glare at Lt. Green.

“I’m not sure, Sir,” Green stuttered. “They’ve either discovered the microchip or-“

“Good God, Man,” White swore a fist drumming the desk before him. “Under what circumstances would that tracker chip stop transmitting?” he demanded.

“It could have been subjected to excessive radio waves, electrical fields, some electronic jamming device, or it could be blocked either by water or earth.”

“You mean he could be underground?” White asked, the man’s ice blue eyes narrowing to the possibilities. Had he sent his best qualified officer into a situation where no one could assist? With a fuming sense of guilt the colonel commanded, “Have Captain Grey search Scarlet’s last known location. There may be some clue.” After a moment White also ordered, “And have the Angels shoot down that decoy jet. We’re not playing Captain Black’s game any longer.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Green answered. Then he reminded, “Sir, their last known location is only fifteen miles from the shoreline, Penobscot Bay.”

“Understood, Lieutenant. Contact Powell Military base and have them launch a submarine. If there’s a Mysteron base along the coastline, I want it found.”

Then a call came in from Spectrum police. A small group of medical doctors had been killed in a train accident. The incident seemed suspicious. An eyewitness had seen the doctors leave the scene, but had identified the train victims as those same doctors. White ordered a check of the doctors’ credentials. “They may somehow be involved in Scarlet’s kidnapping. The Mysterons may want him for some medical experiment.”

Green guessed, “Perhaps they’re still interested in knowing Captain Scarlet’s unique physiology, Sir.”

“Let’s hope he’s able to escape,” White said. “If torture is their purpose, they’ve got a victim who can physically withstand every atrocity. I’m not sure Scarlet will be able to hold out mentally. He may talk if it’s secrets they want.” White realized, then, that like Dr. Tighor, Scarlet had always been their greatest security risk as well as Spectrum’s greatest asset. Now, White had handed Black that asset willingly.

Blue paced the sickbay, his shoulder and arm still restricting his duty status. “Are you saying Colonel White anticipated this? Even though Captain Scarlet knew the risk of his transmitter failing, he still went willingly to the wolves?”

The visiting Lt. Green plopped into a chair and disagreed, “I’d say the captain was a cautious captive. The colonel trusts his instincts. Captain Scarlet’ll know what to do. We just have to wait for something we can do.”

Blue wasn’t so certain. With a resigned sigh he offered, “Thanks, Griff. Keep me informed. If I can help shed some incite…”

“We’re all concerned,” Green admitted. Then the Trinidadian straightened with a cheerful grin. “At least you and Captain Ochre are feeling better.”

“Yeah,” Blue contended. “Just not quickly enough. Rick’s got a punctured lung. At this rate, we’ll still be useless even when there is something we can do.”

Captains Grey and Magenta had finished their sweep of the area where Scarlet’s transmitter chip had gone silent. There was no sign of the SPV, no trace of the missing captain. The rural Maine roadway was empty except for some abandoned road construction equipment a few meters back, waiting for the return of the next workday.. “He just vanished, Sir,” Grey reported into his cap mike. “Could the Mysterons have somehow disintegrated him and the SPV then reconstructed them elsewhere?”

“And is he now under their control again?” Magenta wondered aloud beside him.

White was just as serious in his wanderings. “We can only hope the tracking device reestablishes its signal. Keep alert and keep me informed, Captains.” Once their microphones had swung back up to their visors, Magenta frowned. Waiting wasn’t going to be easy.

Scarlet awakened from the tranquilizer dart. Groggy, he surveyed his surroundings. He was strapped to a medical chair. Doctors milled about him. He was shirtless, and they had obviously extracted the microchip from his shoulder. “You won’t be giving away your position to anyone,” one doctor assured. “I’m Dr. Weston, Captain Scarlet.”

“Are you going to tell me what you want from me?” Scarlet demanded.

“No need. You’ll be cooperative enough, shortly, Captain. We’re replacing Spectrum’s microchip with one of our own.” They lowered a clear cap from the ceiling. Its surface was studded with diodes and wires. Scarlet watched and struggled in his bindings, but he was immobilized. The cap settled upon his skull.

Just then Captain Black entered the lab. “Your friends are baffled, Captain,” he informed. “They do not realize we are right under their feet.”

“This complex is underground,” Scarlet surmised. “They can’t track me. Cloudbase doesn’t know where I am, do they?”

“We are growing in number, Captain,” Black continued. “We are gaining in strength against you. Your Mysteron guns may kill us, but only one at a time, and they can also kill you, Earthman. Here, we are shielded under a shell of non-conducting materials able to withstand an atomic holocaust. You, too, are safe here.”

Scarlet frowned at the implication. His transmitter chip was useless beneath this fortress. Now it had been destroyed. His comrades could not track him. He was lost even to himself. The Mysterons had constructed a nuclear resistant base beneath the surface. The aliens had something planned, but so far they had been mute. Now they had him strapped to a medical chair. “What are your intentions?” he demanded. For a moment he imagined a nuclear war. “If you destroy the earth’s surface with nuclear weaponry, you’ll spoil it for yourselves as well. In the subsequent radiation, nothing could survive.”

“It is not bombs which shall kill the humans,” Dr. Weston explained. “There are many types of disasters.”

“Natural, then,” Scarlet observed. Had they discovered a way to control weather or perhaps move celestial matter onto a collision course? “Or…or biological.” With that thought, Scarlet struggled within his bonds again. Black smiled assuredly as the doctors began their treatment, activating the electronic-laced cap atop the Spectrum officer’s head.

Above, Captain Grey stood beside his Spectrum saloon, patting the fender in irritation. “I don’t understand. Where could they have gone? They couldn’t have just vanished.”

“But you said you saw Captain Black do it,” Magenta argued. Eager to please, the younger officer was searching the surrounding brush for tire tracks, the transmitter chip, footprints, any clues. “Wait! What’s this?” Beside a pile of crumpled traffic cones, Magenta knelt to inspect a peculiarity. “It’s a seam in the pavement.”

Grey strode over to examine the scene. “Yep,” he agreed. “You certainly found something. That doesn’t look like it’s supposed to be there. Let’s take a closer look around. We might even find an entrance.”

Magenta smiled. “We found the base,” he announced triumphantly. “We better call the colonel.”

Scarlet awakened from a dreamless sleep. He was on a bed, dressed in civilian clothes and soft shoes. Where was he? Standing he checked the room. It was nothing more than a cubicle, only enough space for a single cot and chair. “How are you feeling, Mr. Metcalfe?” Dr. Weston asked stepping into the room through the sliding door.

“A little dizzy, but otherwise fine, Doctor. When can I leave?”

The doctor smiled. “The test results are most promising. We’ll know soon if we’ve found a cure for your condition.”

“And that is?” Metcalfe inquired sitting down atop the bed and holding his head. The room was growing fuzzy.

“You’re suffering from a severe form of Nigerian flu, Mr. Metcalfe. You’re free to move about the medical facility, but don’t tire yourself out. You’re past the contagious stage, so there’s no need to worry about making others sick. Oh, by the way. You have a visitor.” Dr. Weston turned toward the door. As he left the physician allowed another man into the small space, a pallid faced man in dark clothing.

“Do I know you, Sir?” Metcalfe asked.

The dark man smiled and spoke in a deep monotone. “I am Conrad, your brother, Paul. Do you not remember me?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Conrad. I guess I’ve been feverish and my memory’s fuzzy.”

Conrad nodded once. “Understandable. You have been sick for many weeks. But you are feeling better now?”

“Well enough to leave this place,” Metcalfe answered.

“Then, how about a walk about the complex.? There are some things I wish to show you,” Conrad suggested. With a nod Scarlet rose from his bed and steadied himself before following the dark figure out into the bowels of his temporary home. As they strolled through the complex Conrad explained some of the machinery. He also offered incite into their situation. “This is our refuge from the invaders,” he said. “The Mysterons have taken over the surface, Paul. You were to be our best chance to redeem our world, but you fell ill. Now that you are better, we can again look forward to seeing sunshine and breathing fresh air.”

“The Mysterons?” Scarlet asked, his hand returning to steady his head.

“They are invaders from Mars. They took over many of us, killing our families and replacing them with their own reconstructions.”

“I remember!” Scarlet attested. “They want to take over the Earth, destroy us all and live here themselves.”

Conrad nodded. “The Mysterons killed our parents, our sister, your wife, Paul. There are few of us left. We have sought refuge down here in this underground sanctuary. But now the time has come to retake our planet.”

Scarlet paused beside a bulky data panel. “My wife? Rebecca is dead?”

Conrad nodded. “I am sorry, Brother. They came to the house at night, three days ago while we were trying to save your life here. Rebecca and our parents thought they would be safe at home. Now we know no one is.”

Scarlet bowed his head and leaned against the wall. “My wife. Dead.” He could feel tears swelling behind his closed lids. He did not see the satisfied smirk on Conrad’s lips nor the doctor hovering behind some machinery watching them. “They must die too, Conrad,” Scarlet stated. “They’re a menace to us all.” He raised his now glassy blue eyes to his brother. “I’m ready for whatever mission you have for me. What do you need me to do?”

Conrad squeezed Paul’s shoulder. “Many of Spectrum’s officers are now Mysteron agents. They are plotting against us even now. We will plant a bomb they can not defuse.”

“Captain Black,” Dr. Weston called stepping from behind a machine to confront them. “Young Paul, here, is just recovering from a close call with death. He’s still weak. He needs more medical treatments before he’ll be well enough fulfill his destiny.”

“We have little time, Dr. Weston. The Mysteron agents have found our sanctuary. They will try to breech our security and kill us all,” Black droned with a dark glare. He turned softer eyes to his brother. “Paul. Do you feel strong enough to leave?”

Scarlet nodded. “I’m ready, Brother.”

“I must insist on another treatment, Captain,” Weston argued. “This base is impenetrable from outside bombs or artillery. Unless they find the lift shaft, there’s no way Spectrum forces can invade our little sanctuary.”

“Another treatment, then, Doctor,” Black growled. His dark eyes returned to the younger man beside him. “I will see you before you leave, Paul. For Rebecca and our parents, we will save the entire Earth. They will not have died in vain.”

Once Black had walked away, Dr. Weston guided the still weak Scarlet to the medical facilities. With the help of two orderlies, he was again strapped into the chair and the clear, wired helmet was lowered over his black hair.

Captain Blue, no longer in a sling, tested his still sore arm and paced the deck of sickbay. “I’ve got to get out of here, Dr. Topaz. I’m wounded, not incapacitated.” He stiffly threw up his arm at the female doctor. “What good am I when Captain Scarlet’s missing, and I’m just getting in your way here? I’m sure there’s something I can do to help.”

“All right, Captain. I’ll dismiss you to light duty. That’ll at least free up another officer to mount the assault on the underground Mysteron base.”

“Thank you,” Blue chimed and marched out of the sterility and smack into Captain Ivory. The woman fli