PASSAGE OF TIME

By Valuth

I wrote this story fairly early on. While not part of 'Uniform' per se, some parts mentioned refer to situations that have occurred in 'Uniform' so far.

Opening his eyes, he turned on the light. He couldn’t sleep right now. As much as he wanted to, and probably needed to, he just couldn’t. He got up from the bed and walked over to his desk, removing an unmarked file from the top drawer, then lay the file on the desktop. Sitting down, he opened the much handled folder. Inside were a group of news clippings and several official reports. He looked at several of the newspaper clippings first. “Teens Save Airliner”, “Duo Subdues Terrorists”, then there was her favorite, “Cop and Teen Subvert Terrorists”. He had to chuckle over that one as well. He hadn’t been a cop then, just getting ready to enter the WGPC academy in London. Who would have thought one little trip would have caused so much of an upheaval?

Putting the clippings to one side he found the report and gazed at it. It was the closing file of a yearlong investigation that had everyone jumpy about flying all over again. He had managed to get hold of a copy from the archives when he was Chief Detective. Reading it made him realize they had been incredibly lucky, and the terrorists on the plane incredibly susceptible. He pulled out the main report out to peruse it.

******

Dat file submitted by Detective Adam McLeod August 15, 2054. Flight 173. File number Z33240-15.

After reviewing reports and talking with persons closely involved (List is appended) with Flight 173, it has been verified that four(4) Port Guavan nationals tried to take over Flight 173(Pan Delta) from New York to London in an attempt to promote dissention in the still consolidating British Admission to the World Government. Since no physical weaponry was detected at New York, through security checks or otherwise, it must be assumed that weaponry was somehow planted on the plane by persons unknown with access or ground crews on shift at the time, or at a preceding destination. ( Ground crew lists have proved inconclusive. All personnel accounted for and have since cleared of any wrongdoing. The flight crew assigned to flight 173 has also been cleared of collusion. Previous destinations have also produced little results.)

Since regulations for taking certain contraband objects on flights( 9/11 Banned Materials Policy), security has been enforced to the utmost until this event. Subsequent investigations as to how the weapons were slipped past has brought even stiffer rules on objects taken to inner cabins of the planes themselves. Evaluation personnel have added almost 100 items to the original list.

Passenger reports

All have concurred as to the fact that the terrorists did intent to fly the jet into Buckingham Palace. Some observations are sketchy however, as to the extent of the two teens involvement and how it was accomplished that the plane was returned to the hands of the flight crew. Several have suggested that medications were involved( this has subsequently been partially established) but not as to how it was done. What has been proven in that the younger of the two, Lady Charlyne Westlake, has some knowledge about drugs and what can be accomplished with them. This information was validated by the fact that the mother is a research scientist and so would indicate that the teen was not using illegal drugs, just had a knowledge of drugs in general, through an interest in her parents' work. It has been confirmed that the terrorists did consume some liquids (it would appear that it was water) brought to them by the afore mentioned teen, under pretext of assisting the terrorists in their goals. However, no indication of consumption of the drugs has been accounted for.

The elder of the teens, Richard Fraser, was subsequently able to help move the terrorists out of sight of other members of the terrorist party and incapacitate them further. As with prior events, how this was accomplished also remains uncertain. None of the terrorists was killed or harmed in any way, something that has even WGPC officials involved with this investigation stymied. What information that has come to light has stated that the two were able to contain the lesser important guards, but it was Fraser himself who managed( this part has not been confirmed as to how) to miss being shot and take the leader of the terrorists to the floor of the cabin. Those around did hear an odd noise( hissing) but had no idea what it was. It was thought that it might be a pressure leak in the cabin. This was dismissed after a thorough examination of the plane. The leader was able to eject Fraser from on top of him and able to rise to his feet before starting to scream something in his native tongue. Translations from an in cabin recorder have proved useless. One word was being repeated over and over, that being dragonbreath?(Translation has since been confirmed at this time.) Fraser was unhurt in the altercation, although several people thought he did look a bit dazed. Blood did appear on his shirt, possibly from the terrorist, again, this has not been confirmed. After the plane was secure and both teens were able to relax, it was noted that Lady Westlake was talking to Fraser in low tones and he did look pale, tired and still dazed. He did seem to have some kind of injury at that point from reports of passengers around them. Physical examination later that day showed him in excellent health albeit exhausted from the flight itself. Testing of the blood from the shirt was inconclusive since both Fraser himself, and the terrorist leader have the same blood type, O positive.

The leader was subsequently bound and placed in the lower galley with his associates. All seemed completely out of sorts when taken from the plane and their leader was still repeating undefined word in his own tongue. When all had recovered from whatever was done to them there was no trace of any drugs of any kind in their systems. Blood tests themselves proved negative. Effects had lasted approximately five(5) hours. Terrorists themselves had no recollection of what had happened after they had taken control of the jet. Checking with toxicologists has verified there are no drugs at this time that can accomplish this, singularly or combined unless the terrorists themselves were allergic to whatever was given them. Chances of this being the case of all four is relatively nil. Residual traces of drug( If indeed there was one) would have been in their blood as long as five hours or longer.

Private discussion with teens

In talking with the two, we found there was no relationship prior to their meeting on the plane. Both have confirmed the other's participation and what they had been able to do to the terrorists, but one odd item was found in their written reports. Both denied giving drugs to the terrorists, yet there were odd looks passing back and forth between the two when questioned together. Separately their stories remained the same with no deviations being noticed. Moments of agitation were observed in both, yet attributed to the natural nervousness of anyone being confronted by police. It was also assumed Fraser's agitation might have been due to the fact he thought his further admission to WGPC was in jeopardy. Reassurance was given at the time that this would not be the case (Commendation subsequently awarded for courage under fire.) Lady Westlake’s might have also been attributed to the fact that her behavior might not be considered acceptable with her grandfather( Lord Robert James Gray, Earl of Warbrook). One thing was later discovered was that both had been protecting an older gentleman in the same row as them, identification finally revealed as Sir Malcolm Metcalfe, Ambassador to Canada (Lady Westlake’s grandfather).

Personal Appendium

September 12, 2054

It has been bandied about by some WGPC personnel that both teens seem suited for this kind of life. Opinions of Fraser have some allusions he won’t be at the bottom of the pile for very long. He seems to have found his niche. From my own observations of him at Heathrow and at the training facility on subsequent occasions, he is going to be one to watch. As to Lady Westlake, she also seems suited for a life in this field or in the military. My own opinion is I don’t believe she is called to be one of the minor nobility. In addition, it seems the two of them have struck up a further friendship since the aborted takeover attempt of the flight.

******

Grinning, Richard Fraser wondered if McLeod ever knew how much of a friendship they had developed. No, he hadn’t stayed at the bottom for long. Three years in England had accomplished that. When he had come back to the States, he had been assigned to his old stomping grounds in Detroit briefly, then transferred to Chicago after another promotion. It all seemed so long ago, but he still remembered that flight vividly. Charlie even agreed they had been lucky. They could have both been killed. He looked at the news clipping once more and grinned at how young they had looked, even with his beard at the time he still looked too young. Charlie though, looked just the same. He ran his finger over one of the pictures of them together.

Since that time they had both bounced back and forth to events special to one or the other, Charlie coming to his commissioning ceremony three years later, and the dance after. No-one thought she was a teenager that night. Some of his fellow graduates even tried to get dates with her, unsuccessfully of course. She had shown little interest in anyone but him that night. The WGPC had even presented her with a civilian award for her participation in the flight 173 event, and one of the Detective Commanders suggested she might find a job there later if she so desired.

Later, when she had gone to the Royal Military College in Canada, he had participated in her ceremonies. They had looked a bit odd that night, both in dress uniforms, his, the WGPC, hers, the WAAF. His favorite remark of hers that night had been giving thanks the uniforms didn’t clash. They had spent a quiet evening enjoying the party and he had seen her to her barracks before he left for his hotel, then back to Chicago the following day.

One thing they had never stopped from day one was playing chess. He figured that they had each won half of all the games played. His game had improved to where he could almost beat her a great deal of the time. They sent their messages through computer, by e-mail, instant messenger, delayed messages, even on the phone a couple times. They had still worked their schedules around so they could meet.

When she had gone out to Cold Lake, they had still met, the most recent occasion had been when he had been promoted to Detective Commander. She had come especially for that event, seeing as the party was in his honor. He grinned about her asking what color the newest dress uniform was and telling her, she had arrived in the most stunning golden gown he had ever seen. Her brother Ian had come with her and had promptly gotten himself lost in the crowd after handing her over to him. They talked almost all the night, on the dance floor and off, pausing when some reporters had weaseled their way into the party and accosted them. She had spoken a few words with them and when they had quizzed her about things she was doing in the States she had simply stated she was visiting some friends. What noone had seen was her hand in his and the squeeze she had given him when she'd said 'friends'. One of the reporters asked what their relationship was and gotten thumped on the head by another reporter who told the poor guy who they were. They had both laughed over it and walked away.

The next day at the airport, he figured that had been the turning point and had started checking out rings right after. When he found the perfect ring he figured he would go to Cold Lake and see her on her birthday and propose. She turned the tables on him and had been planning on coming back for his birthday eleven days before hers. She had managed to pull her leave so they could spend both birthdays together. Her birthday present to him had left him weak in the knees. His proposal was accepted and the night had been a wonderfully long one. They definitely had been running on adrenalin the next day. The remaining days were spent together and when she had headed back to the base at Cold Lake, he was already missing her.

A month later the letter from the World Government had arrived. That had been the most trying time for him. He couldn’t tell her, not then at any rate, he wanted to talk to the Colonel about them first. There had been another awards ceremony; she had once more come to be his date that night, both of them starting to make more permanent plans. She’d gone back to arrange her transfer, but something had come up after she had gotten back to Cold Lake. He hadn't been able to get hold of her, her brother Ian couldn’t tell him much except that she had gone to do some climbing. Some kind of an emergency had arisen and she had been called in to help because of her SAR qualifications, Ian had explained. As it happened, the next day came the declaration for him to ‘vanish’. It had been the worst timing imaginable. He was told what would happen and given information on a private jet waiting at the airport for him. While on the flight, he had felt a ‘shock’ run through his body and realized that Charlie now thought him dead. He sat through the rest of the trip desperately wishing he had told her. The entire trip had been a blur.

Upon his arrival in Sydney, he was given a car and told to take a roundabout route to Koala Base. During the drive, he felt like he was being watched. He had stopped several times, and never seen another car, plane, copter, or other vehicle. Just before he reached an overnight stay, he had heard a cry and jammed on the breaks of the car. Looking around, he saw her in the car, completely dressed in white. He tried to talk to her, but she looked at him, not comprehending. The only thing he felt he could do was show her some sign language he knew and pray.

At his stop over, he watched his ‘funeral’ on TV and almost fell off his chair when he saw her. She had dressed for him, he knew. He recognized her clothing. He breathed a deep sigh of relief that she was okay. Suddenly, she had made the same sign he had made in the car. Smiling he knew she had understood. Now all he had to do was find where the heck she had disappeared to.

When he had seen her at Koala, he almost didn’t recognize her. She had definitely changed and he believed he had had a great deal to do with it. Up until that night he had no idea she knew Captain Scarlet, but finding out he was the kid at the airport from so long ago threw him. Her reaction in dealing with Leader had frightened him. Of course her being 'killed' had hurt. The idea of being so close and not getting the chance to talk more, then finding out she had been faking had both had him on his knees in relief, and worried what would happen next.

A brief discussion in her room, when he had gotten the picture had proven she was overjoyed to see him, and for that he had given silent thanks. The spontaneous joke on Paul on Cloudbase had them both laughing at the look on his face. The whole thing had been perfection, then he'd almost started laughing again when she'd sent him a mental image of a hedgehog in a red tunic, choking. She disappeared again only sending him a note where to come on his next leave. When she had come to the gate of the military base, they had gone to her quarters and continued their talks for almost two days more, over a chessboard this time making some more serious plans, to rebuild their relationship, and eventually to get married. From what he had seen of his soon to be mother-in-law, their eloping had been the best thing they had ever done. Funny as it seemed, only the Colonel had known exactly what they were going to do, showing up to give the bride away. Charlie hadn't been surprised so he had thought she had made him aware of events. He knew she was very fond of the Colonel.

Ah well, things were still happening and she finally made it to Cloudbase. He rubbed his eyes. She should be back soon. The assignment wasn’t a serious one. If anyone would keep her safe it was Paul, but then he knew what shenanigans she might try and pull. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Six more hours then he was on duty in the radar section. Boring. He groaned to himself.

The door to their quarters opened and she entered, tossing her cap onto the desk. He grinned as she leaned over him and gave him a quick kiss. His hand went to her waist.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Captain,” she gently admonished.

“I know that, Lieutenant. Something just wouldn’t let me sleep, however,” he replied, pulling her onto his lap, returning her kiss with one with more substance to it.

“Hmm and what was that, might I ask?” she questioned. He observed a slight wince from her.

“Oh, you know how it is, a bit of jet lag, having to file some reports, wondering if that first assignment would go okay,” he replied with a grin.

“So you read the file again?” she asked looking at the desk, and glancing at the picture closest to him.

“Sure. It’s highly entertaining. I don’t think they will ever figure it out,” he said.

“Someone will. How can you not figure out telepathy?” she chuckled.

“Well, if Detective McLeod couldn’t, then I doubt anyone will,” he remarked.

“Well I know I want a shower and then I plan on getting some sleep. Hasn’t anyone ever considered changing our vests to something similar to flack jackets? Much more practical and a bit more protection. I don’t like seeing Paul getting shot. I know I should be used to it, seeing as I know what will happen, but come on,” she said. “A little more protection can’t hurt.”

“How bad?” Rick now asked.

“Severed the spinal column. He should be up and dancing in about five hours. He was a bit cranky though,” she said. “I think some of the guys in the Mess were putting on half a cow for him to eat. I sure wish I could do that, and not gain an ounce.”

“You and all the Angels. So it was nothing serious though? What about you?” he asked.

“No, nothing serious. I got winged though. Doctor Fawn was busy with Paul, so Mat fixed me up and told me, to tell you, to tie me to the bed so I don’t go to the gym,” she chuckled. “When did you two start ganging up on me?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s doing that on his own. Lets see your arm,” he instructed.

He undid her vest and dropped it on the chair then he helped remove the jacket gently. Once he could see the wound, he looked at her. She winced slightly as he touched near it.

“Better wrap it if you’re going to have a shower. You know how cranky they get if you have to change them too often.” He chuckled. “Or do you want me to help you?”

“How about you get into bed and get some sleep. I won’t be that far behind you,” she replied.

“Hey, one thing I’ve been meaning to ask someone. Maybe you can tell me,” he said grinning.

“What?” she asked, as she slipped out of her uniform and lay it out for the next day. She just knew he was going to try and zing her.

“Why is it that your uniforms look so good on you and the other female agents and ours don’t?” he said with an innocent grin.

“Whoever your tailor is just doesn’t understand we like to see cute butts. Tell them that the next time you get a uniform and pray that you don’t get a pair of pants like mine,” she cracked back. “Of course that would show off things a bit better. Hmmm.”

“Charlie!”

“Well you asked,” she said laughing as she went into their bathroom.

“I should never have asked. I’ll kill Pat for that”, he groused.

She poked her head back out.

“Oh if it’s him, in his case its called flat butt. Nothing will improve that. Ever," she snickered.

“Hey! Who told you that you could look?”

“I’m not touching him, I’ve only looked. I used to check out the Team as well. Flight coveralls conceal too much. Dress uniforms now… merrowf!” She teased playfully, giving him a hard look. “Oh if you're going to think like that I'll just sleep on the couch. You know what I really love to check out Fraser.” Her voice husky.

“Would you stop that!” he complained, flushing.

“You’re the one broadcasting. I can only ‘hear’ your thoughts if you are,” she chuckled. “Want me to teach you how not to broadcast?”

“Its just you that can hear it right?” he asked dubiously.

“Far as I know, yup,” she replied retreating to the shower.

He heard the water and lay back in the bed and tried to get comfortable. Just as he found a good spot, he felt an overwhelming desire to check the alarm times on the clock. He had to turn over to look and heard her giggle again. She'd been 'influencing' him again.

“That is so not nice,” he called out.

“You weren't asleep.”

“No, but that's beside the point.”

“Well you’re closer than I am aren’t you?”

“But I was comfortable,” he complained.

He heard her chuckle once more and closed his eyes, He finally heard the water being turned off and snuggled down under the blankets a bit. He heard her brushing her hair and then heard her hit the light panel to turn out the lights. The faint rustle of her pajamas indicated she was by the bed. Moments later, she was in bed herself and getting comfortable. Opening his eyes sleepily, he looked at her just as she yawned.

“Rest for you now,” he said.

“Uh huh,” she relied, closing her eyes. “Just make sure you get some sleep too. They don’t need you running on nerves again.”

“I have never run on nerves and you know it,” he pouted.

“Uh huh, suuuuure. What about Koala? When did you get any sleep?”

“I slept when you did. I promised I’d be there and I was, right?” he groused, cuddling up to her.

“Yep, you were,” she said dreamily, snuggling close to him, her face resting against his throat.

“Charlie?”

“Mmm?”

“Nite Sweetheart,” he whispered, in her ear, then closed his eyes.

Valuth

2002

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