SPECTRUM IS WHITE

Chapter 11

A trick… It’s got to be a trick.

But… how could they have done it? former Admiral Charles Gray mused. How could they have compelled him to mistake that series of numbers for the World Navy identification he had received so long ago? It seemed so impossible, but…

The Dream Spinner. They had put that ‘identification number’ in his mind by way of the Dream Spinner.

But if it was the case, then all the things those Spectrum people were telling him, about his mind having been tampered with by that damned contraption, about false memories planted in his head… then they would be true?

Wouldn’t they?

Gray had tremendous trouble considering that eventuality. So many of his memories were gone, the mere idea of those that were left being false was… maddening, to say the least.

No. They’re trying to manipulate me… They want to deceive me.

Why would they do that? This is so troubling…

The English Captain didn’t want to let go. Seeing that Gray was still incredulous about this whole I.D. number issue and all it could imply, he pursued, relentlessly, presenting other arguments, other so-called ‘proofs’. Gray didn’t want to listen, and obstinately used every means to resist. He pretended again he was tired and that he needed to rest. The younger man did not permit him that. He pressed on, ruthlessly.

It went on for two full hours.

Captain Scarlet could see Colonel White was wearing out. But still, the older man refused to give. He had ignored Scarlet, insulted him, even threatened him a couple of times, almost jumping at his throat on at least one occasion, but catching himself just before actually doing so. The Spectrum captain couldn’t help but notice that, despite Doctor Fawn’s assumption that a mere word or move could set him off, the colonel was actually getting more and more in control of his outbursts of temper.

He imagined it could only be a good sign.

How can I reach him? Scarlet was asking himself. This was getting really frustrating… His commander didn’t recognize him, didn’t listen to him, refused to take any food, and still considered himself a prisoner. How was it possible to make him understand that it wasn’t the case, that he was one of them? That here, on Cloudbase, he was among friends, and therefore had absolutely nothing to fear?

Sure, this interrogation room was not a familiar environment for him, Scarlet pondered. Cooped up like this in here, he could not see what Cloudbase really was.

And what if…

Well, why not? It could work.

Charles Gray could see the eyes of the young captain light up, as if an idea had suddenly come to his mind. He had confirmation of that when the Spectrum officer called upon Corporal Jarvis and another security guard. The two men entered and, following the captain’s orders to them, Admiral Gray found himself back in shackles. This time, however, his feet remained free.

“You’ve had enough, then?” Gray asked the red-clad officer. “I am to go back to my room?”

“No,” the captain responded shaking his head. “There is another place I want to take you.”

“Ah!” Gray pondered this a few seconds and thought he had it all figured out. “I don’t need medical care anymore, so I will be going to the brig…”

“Wrong again, sir.”

Captain Scarlet was answering with as even a voice as he could produce, trying not to alarm Colonel White. He saw, however, the flash of concern in the older man’s eyes, as he was obviously worried about where he was going and what would happen to him. Scarlet smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, sir. I have already promised you, nothing bad will happen to you.”

“Why these shackles, then?” White mumbled, showing his hands, now restrained to that damned belt.

“Mainly for security. As we’re going to walk through Cloudbase’s corridors, I don’t want you to try and make a break for it.” Scarlet paused. “You’ve already tried it.”

“If you were in my situation, you would probably do the same,” White replied dryly.

Scarlet paused a second, before answering, with a very calm voice. “Actually, I WAS in your situation, once. And it’s because of what you did THEN, that I’m so willing to help you NOW.”

Colonel White stared intently at him, obviously wondering what he was talking about. Captain Scarlet didn’t add anything else and put his cap on, before dropping his mic. “Lieutenant Green? I have a couple of favours to ask of you…” He glanced at Jarvis who nodded to him that the prisoner was now ready to go. “First of all, have the corridors between the interrogation room and the Promenade Deck empty of all personnel until further orders… and then notify the Angel pack to get ready for a demonstration. I’ll give you the word shortly.”

The mic returned to its place on the visor and Scarlet turned to his commander, who was still scrutinizing him with a curious look. The captain gestured toward the opening door. “This way, please, sir…”

“’Promenade DECK’?” White repeated. “What is this Cloudbase of yours, anyway? A carrier, or something like that?”

“Oh, that’s right…” Scarlet said innocently. “We haven’t told you that, yet…” He took the colonel by the arm and gently guided him toward the door.

* * *

Cloudbase’s Promenade Deck was the only strictly non-duty area of the entire hovering military base. It was the favourite spot of many Cloudbase officers, including Captain Scarlet and Colonel White himself. The Spectrum supreme commander often went there to relax and do some gardening. It was also there that he usually gathered with Scarlet, Rhapsody, and Doctor Fawn for Sunday tea. It had become something of a tradition, started almost from the beginning of Cloudbase’s active duty, three years earlier. Captain Black was of the gathering, in those days, and Scarlet remembered how he and Colonel White always had those animated discussions on sports… most noticeably team sports. It was during those conversations that Scarlet had learned of Colonel White’s love for them… Especially basketball. That he was captain during his time at King’s College, and that he had led his team to victory three consecutive years. Thinking of his commander as an eagerly sportive teen was something of an odd concept for Captain Scarlet.

That, of course, was some years before a still very young Charles Gray enlisted in the Navy and trained to become an officer.

Captain Scarlet was hoping that the familiar setting of the Promenade Deck would somehow trigger something in Colonel White’s memory and compel him to at least listen, and consider what he was trying to make him understand.

All the way to the Promenade Deck, Scarlet explained about Cloudbase to his amnesiac commander. At first, White feigned complete indifference, but as the Spectrum Captain continued his depiction of the hovering carrier – going into such details as how it was constructed, four years ago, in different factories around the world and then assembled in space before being brought down into the stratosphere to sit at about 40,000 feet above Earth – it became quite apparent the Colonel’s interest had been stirred. He didn’t ask any questions. He merely listened carefully to what Scarlet was telling him. He took great care not to look TOO interested, though. But Captain Scarlet was not blind to the obvious.

He may be taking mental notes on the enemy’s strengths, the British captain mused. Or maybe he hopes I’ll accidentally indicate a means of escape. He may be brainwashed and disoriented, but he’s still the strategist. Unfortunately for him, I won’t be that careless…

The door leading to the Promenade Deck opened before Scarlet and he entered. White followed and passed before him to step further into the large room. He looked around him, with unconcerned curiosity, at all the trees and exotic plants that thrived in there. Aside from the absence of animal sounds, anybody could believe he had stepped in some flourishing part of the Rain Forest.

Scarlet stopped the security guards before they could walk into the Promenade Deck and asked them to wait outside, by the door. It slid closed and the young Brit quietly approached, as White came closer to the large bay window that enabled visitors to look outside. He did so, staring indifferently at the clear blue sky and white clouds passing by, his back turned to Scarlet. The latter left him to his observation and deep thoughts, hoping it could somehow yield some results.

“Lovely setting,” the colonel then said in a flat tone. He turned back to face Scarlet. His features were expressionless. “Can I go to my room now?”

The Captain stared at him very quietly for a few seconds, trying to see if that set face was keeping something from him. He couldn’t decipher anything.

“So this place doesn’t remind you of anything?” he asked.

His elder shrugged his shoulders. “Should it?”

“You like this place a lot. The little free time you allow yourself, you mostly spend it here, stargazing, doing some gardening, writing… On Sunday, whenever it’s possible, you receive some of us from the senior staff for tea, here.”

“Really?” White scoffed mockingly. “I didn’t know I was such a good-intentioned commander… Or that I was such a sucker for traditions…”

Scarlet rolled his eyes. I much prefer him SILENT than sarcastic, he told himself. He really can be disagreeable when he’s like this…

He wasn’t giving up on his commander yet. He approached him and took him by the shoulder.

“Come close to the bay window, sir.”

White obeyed passively. Scarlet pointed toward the flight decks they could see very clearly, from where they stood. “On the higher deck, you can see the Angels,” the captain explained. “Our interceptor jets. They’re the best in the world.”

Admiral Charles Gray looked down. He could indeed see three white, sleek interceptors, standing in Delta formation, on the higher and narrower deck. He remembered having seen those jets quite recently, skimming the treetops over his head.

“I hope you properly thanked those pilots for having saved your life,” Colonel White noted matter-of-factly, addressing Scarlet.

The latter answered with a rueful smile, but said nothing.

“We’re really 40,000 feet up in the air?” White asked him.

“Yes, sir. Why do you ask? Are you wondering how you’d escape from such a height?”

“Curiosity, that’s all,” White mumbled quickly.

Scarlet didn’t believe him in the least. But he did not make any remark on the subject. He shrugged. “Then I’m glad something DID catch your interest, after all.”

“Yes, right,” White replied with annoyance. “Really interesting.” He turned back to the door. “Get me back to my room. Or my cell, wherever you want me.”

“I want you HERE, for the moment,” Scarlet retorted dryly, seizing his arm to stop him from leaving. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” White answered, tiredly. “What now?”

Scarlet dropped his cap microphone. “Lieutenant Green, launch all Angels.” He motioned to Colonel White to look through the window. The older man did so, staring down at the three interceptors on the higher deck. Less than thirty seconds later, the first one literally catapulted itself into the sky. Fifteen seconds after, the two remaining Angels followed and joined the first one.

The three of them turned around and came back toward Cloudbase, flying in close, perfect formation. They passed by the Promenade Deck like lightning, waggling their wings in unison. Colonel White’s eyes followed them as they shot upward into the sky. The Spectrum commander seemed less than impressed. Or rather, he didn’t seem to care at all about what he had just seen.

“Don’t tell me you brought me up here to try to impress me with this demonstration!” he scoffed, turning toward Scarlet. “What is this, a show of force? Trying to make me understand that our efforts against your kind are useless?”

Scarlet stared at him incredulously. “You believe that’s what I’m trying to do right now, sir?”

White did not respond. Scarlet sighed. He led his commander to a nearby set of chairs and table and made him sit there. He took the other seat. “I brought you here, hoping it would somehow jolt your memories of what and who you truly are.”

“I know who I am.”

“Yes. ‘Charles Gray, former World Navy admiral’. I lost count of the times you’ve said it. What about that ‘mistaken’ I.D. number? How could you explain a Spectrum identification number ending up in your head?”

“I hope you’ll tell me.”

“NOW who’s playing games, sir?” Scarlet gave another sigh and dropped down his cap microphone. “Lieutenant Green, recall the Angels,” he said. He paused, looking at White. “The… operation didn’t work as we hoped it would.” Scarlet heard the disappointment in Lieutenant Green’s acknowledgement; he knew exactly how the young man was feeling. The mic returned to its place. “You’ve seen the Angels take off countless times,” he explained his commander. “That’s why I asked for this demonstration…”

“Like you said, ‘so it would jolt my memories’?” White noted flatly. “Sorry, Captain. There are no memories to jolt.”

“You believe there aren’t,” Scarlet replied persistently. “But they are there. They’re just buried very deep. We just have to dig further to reach them.”

“This is becoming very tiring… Why don’t you tell me what your superiors want from me and be done with this charade?”

“There is nobody else here to answer to than yourself, sir. And right now… you’re quite unable to take command. That leaves Captain Blue and me.”

“The two of you?”

“You left us in joint command before leaving for the surface on holiday, some days ago.”

“Simple captains in charge of so huge an organisation? And your commander… a colonel?” White’s tone was sardonic enough.

Scarlet shook his head. “Spectrum ranks are not what they appear, sir. They serve to protect our anonymity.”

“As the codenames? ‘Scarlet’, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Your friend, I’m not sure… But you’re definitely military.”

“Right again, sir. My family has a long military tradition. I was in the WAAF before joining Spectrum. I had the rank of Colonel.” Scarlet paused a second, before adding, carefully: “Does that remind you of anything?”

White shrugged. “Not a thing. Should it?”

“You’re the one who actually convinced me to join Spectrum.” Scarlet paused. “And you did it here… You and Captain Black, to be precise.”

He watched for White’s reaction. He saw none.

“Captain Black?” White repeated. “By the name, obviously one of your own.”

“For a time he was your right-hand man in Spectrum. The best of us. Your friend and mine. You knew him under another name: Conrad Turner.”

Again, Scarlet watched and waited; White did nothing more than shrug. “That name isn’t familiar to me.”

“Are you sure?” Scarlet insisted. “You’ve mentioned it, already, when you were brought up here to Cloudbase, delirious with fever.”

“Oh yes… I think your psychiatrist told me that, too.” White shook his head. “Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell at all.”

“Then why did you call out his name while you were feverish?”

“You’re sure I really did that?”

“I have no reason not to believe Doctor Fawn. It was in his report.”

“And I have no reason to believe you.”

Scarlet scowled. He stared intensely at his commander, who met his gaze without flinching. He was serene enough; no deception apparent in his look. It could be possible he didn’t remember Conrad, after all; the fever could simply have brought up the memory of the renegade captain from the Colonel’s subconscious.

“It may surprise you, sir,” Scarlet then said evenly, “but I DO believe you.”

“Indeed, you surprise me, son,” White answered back sarcastically. He held out his hands, the best his restraints allowed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to call you that.”

Clearly, he remembered the words that had been exchanged between the two of them, during that fight they had in the wood. Scarlet smiled quietly. “No offence taken,” he said. He nodded toward White’s bruised face. “And sorry to have been so rough on you.”

Colonel White lifted an eyebrow. “This is even MORE surprising,” he replied. “I remember that you wanted to kill me, before saving my life when that gun exploded…”

“I’m sorry to say that I would probably have killed you if you hadn’t tried to make me angry.”

“So it’s something I said that stopped you?” White paused. “What mistake did I make?”

Scarlet sighed. “Let’s say I realised you weren’t at all what I thought you were and that, obviously, you weren’t responsible for your actions.”

“Even with what I said concerning the girl?” Scarlet didn’t blink. If White thought he would provoke a reaction, he was mistaken and would wait in vain. He shook his head. “I’m sorry I said that. I lied, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“How is she, anyway?”

“Rhapsody’s quite fine. She didn’t suffer much from her ordeal. In fact, she’s already back on duty.”

White looked down. “I’m glad she’s all right,” he said in an undertone. “She saved my life, I know that… Putting her own on the line…”

“She did it because she thought we would be able to help you. She has faith in you. A lot of us have.” Scarlet scratched his ear. “However, I suspect she might be disappointed that her little demonstration with the others just now was fruitless…”

White gave him a puzzled look. The young officer nodded toward the bay window. “She was at the helm of one of the Angel jets that just took off from the upper deck.”

“She’s a combat pilot?” White mused.

“Yes, sir. That’s her principal duty.”

“She’s not… a spy?”

Scarlet shook his head in negation. “She was a detective, in one of her earlier jobs,” he explained. “Trained by the best. That why she was sent after you with Captain Ochre, when you disappeared, two days ago.”

“I thought she was a spy.”

“Spy… Militarist agent… Bounty hunter… Double agent, maybe?” Scarlet shook his head. “You were wrong on all counts about Rhapsody, sir. She didn’t trap you to hand you over to your enemies.”

White pondered that for a few moments. “Well, what you’re saying right now may be true or not,” he said evenly. “I don’t know, really. What I know is that I really didn’t want that young lady to get hurt.”

Scarlet nodded slowly. That must be true too, he mused. He seems far too sincere to fake this. Rhapsody is right. There is still enough of the old man’s real personality present in him. Surely, he can be helped…

“Is that why you protected her from Jonathan Dempsey?” he asked the colonel carefully.

“She reported that episode?”

“She told me you tore into that man with your bare fists. Beat him to a pulp.”

“I lost control,” White murmured, looking down at his hands. “Happens a lot since I was put through that… Dream Spinner treatment. One of the consequences of that, I suppose…” He paused. “Well, anyway, I don’t regret giving that swine the lesson he deserved.”

“That’s what you call what you did to him?” Scarlet asked, scratching his ear again. “A bullet in the head? A lesson?”

The colonel gave him an odd enough look. “You mean he’s dead?”

“Yes, quite dead,” Scarlet responded, watching every reaction from his commander. “We thought you had… executed him. Obviously, it wasn’t the case. You don’t even seem to know he had been killed.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“Do you have any idea WHO might have killed him?”

White kept silent for a short instant, pondering that. Shelby’s final words concerning Dempsey came to his mind. “No,” he finally said, “I don’t have the slightest idea.”

Scarlet narrowed his eyes at the older man. “I’m sure you’re lying,” he noted. “You DO know who killed that scum.”

White frowned deeply. “What do you care, anyway? You’ve just said it yourself. Dempsey was scum. Why would his death have any significance to you?”

“His death, no. But who killed him… I like to know who I’m up against.” Scarlet paused. “A Mysteron would have killed him without a second thought. So I’m betting it’s Commander Shelby who did it.”

Charles Gray frowned. He wasn’t surprised that the young officer should know Shelby’s name. The girl would have told him about that too, he realised. He didn’t pick it up and chose to engage in another subject.

“Still with those ‘Mysterons’ of yours, then? WHAT are they, Captain?”

He still didn’t know who and what the Mysterons were but considering all the secrecy these Spectrum agents kept around them, there was certainly something really terrible about them. I wouldn’t believe it, they said, Gray mused inwardly. What is it they’re keeping from me, anyway? He didn’t know why, but the more that word was mentioned around him, the more uncomfortable he became. The hairs on the back of his head were even starting to stand right up…

“You’re not answering my question,” Scarlet noted. “So I’ve guessed right, haven’t I?”

“And you didn’t answer MY question. So we’re even.”

“You asked it just to divert the conversation,” Scarlet replied. “You’re still trying to PROTECT those men…”

“And WHY shouldn’t I? They’re my men… They saved me from that damned Dream Spinner!”

“No, they’re not, and they didn’t… Truth to tell, they are THE ONES who had hooked you to that thing!”

White became livid; he quickly stood up to face the younger man.

“You’re trying to set me against my own people!” he accused him.

“Oh, come on, now!” Scarlet replied, groaning. “They’re not your people! They were manipulating you!”

“No, YOU are manipulating me!” White spat out, still accusingly. “Or at least, you’re trying very hard… But I tell you, you won’t succeed!”

Scarlet gave an exasperated sigh and slowly came to his feet. “Still, you REFUSE to see the obvious,” he retorted sharply. “Why can’t you accept the truth of what we’re telling you?”

“Because it’s not the truth!” White almost shouted at him.

“Oh, yes, it is!” Scarlet replied with the same tone. “And you know it.” He poked his commander’s chest. “You know it, here, in your heart.”

White took a step back. “DON’T touch me!” he hissed between his teeth.

“Colonel, we’re all your friends here, and…”

“Don’t call me ‘Colonel’!” White shouted again. “I’m not a colonel!” He eyed the younger man with an icy glance. “And I’m certainly not your friend,” he added in a murmur.

There was dismay in Scarlet’s blue eyes as he stared back at his commander. “You’re really a stubborn mule, you know that?” he realised with bitterness in his voice. “I thought I knew that, but now I see just how obstinate you can be…”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“You don’t seem to understand the problem, sir. We’re taking enormous risks, everyone on the senior staff, by trying to help you on our own…”

“I’ve never asked you for anything!”

“Notwithstanding the risks we’re taking, and the consequences for us, what YOU risk, sir, is far less enviable. We all know that, and we don’t want you to suffer any humiliation or disgrace.”

“Then you should have killed me in the woods,” White replied with deadpan aplomb. “That would have spared us all a lot of trouble.”

Scarlet stared at him incredulously. “No, on the contrary,” he said sadly. “The trouble would have been far worse…”

“Right. You would have passed over the chance to get your hands on a very valuable prize… one who could provide you with important information and whom you could torment all you like.”

“You can’t BELIEVE that!”

“What am I to believe, then?” White barked furiously. “You’re trying to convince me of some foolish assertion that I am your commander! That I was brainwashed to do the bidding of… of some terrorist group you call the Mysterons! I say YOU are doing the brainwashing, Captain, RIGHT NOW! You’re obviously working in the interest of some Militarist officials, who want to drive me completely mad so I become totally useless to the cause! You can be proud of yourself! Your family can be proud of you, too! Militarists, the whole lot of you, I bet!”

Scarlet bristled, hearing those words. “My family fought on the same side as you during the British insurrection,” he replied icily. “I was too young when that occurred, but my father, my uncles, my grandfather, even my great-grandfather… You INSULT them by calling them Militarists. All of them were in the British Army, sir, but NONE of them hesitated to take a risk, and adopt a cause they believed in, for the freedom of their country. Like YOU did yourself.”

“Words,” White mumbled. “Those are only words…”

“Metcalfe men don’t believe in mere words, sir. We believe acts are needed to support those words. And acts have always defined who and what we are!”

White frowned, staring with perplexity at the younger officer’s grim features. “Metcalfe?” he repeated with a murmur.

“That’s my name, sir,” Scarlet said with a nod.

I’ve heard that name before… Charles Gray told himself, rather troubled. Yes, indeed… The name was associated with the cause… He knew of a very influential and dedicated old general by that name, who had decided to give his support to the so-called rebels, encouraged by his son and grandsons… He was with that delegation that had met with World President Bandranaik… It’s so confusing… WHEN did I learn that? Who told me of all this…

“The eldest has your name, Charles. Must be about your age, too. With a young boy of his own…”

Lord, White realised, recalling that. Father…

His father, Alexander Gray, had told him, shortly before…

Captain Scarlet saw a flicker of pain cross Colonel White’s eyes. Obviously upset, his commander turned his back on him. “Get me back to my room,” he heard him say dully.

What is it? Scarlet wondered, perplexed. Just my name COULDN’T have had such an impact on him… It would be too easy…

There must be something else.

“Something wrong, sir?”

“Leave me alone, damn you!” White shouted at him. “I’ve had enough of your lies!”

Scarlet sighed. He realised the older man was about ready to jump at him. He would probably have done it if he weren’t restrained like he was. It was a mistake, bringing him here. He seems worse than when we arrived… The British captain shook his head in consternation. He should have known better than to try to deal with him on his own. The best course of action would have been to leave Doctor Weiss to take care of the colonel.

Scarlet was giving up hope that this situation could be kept a secret from Intelligence much longer. They will take him in. They’ll deal with him themselves… Maybe Adam was right. Maybe it would be better this way. This is their job, after all. Let’s just hope they won’t be too rough on him, and that they will help him shake off the state he’s in right now.

As for US, we still have to stop the Mysterons and those people who have done this to him!

“All right, sir. I’m finished with you now. If that’s what you want, I’ll have you taken to your room in sickbay.”

Scarlet took his commander’s arm, and, as gently and carefully as possible, began to lead him toward the exit of the Promenade Deck.

And suddenly, Colonel White stopped dead, having taken only three steps. “Wait…”

Scarlet turned to face his commander, and found him staring intensely at a precise spot. Frowning, the captain looked in the same direction and discovered the object of his elder’s attention. He froze too.

It was a white rose tree. The only one on the Promenade Deck… It had only four or five flowers still blooming on it, but it was still beautiful.

His eyes riveted on the tree, Colonel White approached it slowly. Scarlet let him do as he pleased. Upon reaching it, the Spectrum commander crouched down, still gazing at it with a very intense look.

“That tree…” he said hesitantly.

“It’s yours,” Scarlet explained calmly. “Your pride and joy. You, exclusively, tend it. You forbid anyone to touch it.”

“It’s been trimmed recently,” White continued.

“Yes, by you. Before you went on the surface, some days ago...”

White didn’t say anything. He was literally fascinated by the tree. His shackled hands delicately grazed one of the roses. White petals fell between his fingers. Almost despite himself, a single word came to his lips. A word he whispered almost inaudibly. “Elizabeth…”

A door opened in his mind. He could see images, in quick, successive flashes. Being recalled to London… boarding a private plane with his beloved wife, Elizabeth… the craft experiencing trouble as he fought desperately at the helm… the dive… the crash… and the awful sensation of loss and loneliness, more devastating than any physical pain, as he woke in that helicopter, after being rescued…

“My wife… She was with me… How is she?”

The sorry look of the young man who was tending to him, and the uneasiness he felt in him was more than sufficient to tell Charles Gray that something was so terribly wrong.

He fell to his knees, as the painful realisation sank into his mind and heart at the same time.

“Dear lord,” he murmured. “Elizabeth… This tree… this tree is for her…” He swallowed hard, shaking his head, looking at the tree with total disbelief. And yet, he couldn’t dispel the truth that was imposing itself on his mind. He fought off the tears that were threatening to overcome him. “I’ve lost her…”

Standing behind, Scarlet understood instantly what was happening to his commander, as he saw him bow his head. At the very moment when Scarlet had almost despaired of making him see the truth, memories were coming back to him. But not at all pleasant memories. He was remembering about his wife… about the tragedy that happened so many years ago. The British captain felt a wave of sorrow for the older man. How terrible it must be, to wake up to reality like that, and to discover that the one you care about most in the world is not there anymore…

How would I feel, myself?

He put his hand on the Colonel’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry, sir. It must be… hard, I know…”

“You really think you know?” There wasn’t any aggressiveness in Colonel White’s voice. Only pain and sorrow. And doubt that anybody would understand what he could be feeling right this moment. He continued staring at the tree. “It was… a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

Scarlet hesitated a second; then he sighed. “Seventeen years, sir.”

“Seventeen years…” White echoed absent-mindedly. He shook his head. “That’s why I can’t remember her older… I can’t believe this… So long ago… I…” His features became hard. “How could have I forgotten about THAT?”

Scarlet thought of answering, but stopped himself right away. He sighed deeply. “Again, I’m sorry, sir.”

White faintly nodded his thanks. “I need to… gather my thoughts, Captain… IF indeed, I am your commander…” He stared a moment again at the rose tree, before turning to raise a quizzical enough look toward the younger man still standing behind him. “Then I must have… private quarters on this base of yours?”

* * *

Before agreeing to his commander’s demand to take him to his quarters, Captain Scarlet took him for a visit to sickbay. He wanted to make sure he was all right after he had remembered the truth about his wife. White didn’t resist; nor did he protest. He was quite calm and willingly answered the simple questions Doctor Weiss and Doctor Fawn asked him. The subsequent physical and psychological check up lasted more than two hours; having been satisfied that his recovering memories had not brought some injury to her patient’s still fragile psyche, Doctor Weiss, after having agreed with Doctor Fawn that there was now no danger in it, prescribed him a mild tranquillizer.

Only after that did Scarlet take his commander to his personal quarters.

Free of any restraint, Colonel White looked silently around, assessing everything in the room. He paid more attention to the personal stuff adorning the place – things he recognized, and others he didn’t – pictures and framed medals hanging from the walls, a couple of antique trinkets, trophies of all sorts… He looked curiously at the highly detailed plastic model standing in honour on a high chest, just under a large oil portrait. That last thing he knew very well… Just to be sure it was authentic, however, he checked the signature. Satisfied that it was the real thing, he turned around to come back toward a silent Captain Scarlet, seated on the visitor’s chair in front of the antique oak working desk.

White pointed toward one of the medals hanging in a frame. “That’s not genuine,” he noted evenly.

Scarlet shook his head. “A copy, then. You must be keeping the original in a safe place.”

White nodded, without elaborating more on the subject. He gave another, thoughtful glance around.

“Feels like home,” he said quietly. There was some sadness in his voice, Scarlet noticed, as the older man sat down on his leather armchair. He settled himself comfortably, before picking up the picture of his wife which stood on the desk. He stared at it intensely, almost with veneration in his eyes. He nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s the last picture that was taken of her,” he explained. “It was about two weeks before… the plane crashed.” He paused a few seconds, before continuing, “We had just arrived at this little cottage in the Highlands. Elizabeth had inherited it from a long-lost uncle… We were to spend a few weeks’ holiday there. A little peace and quiet. Unfortunately, I was recalled to London. I… I was a key witness in some kind of hearing, or something…”

“For the U.S.S.?” Scarlet suggested. He did know about his commander having played an important role in cleaning up the London Bureau of the Universal Secret Service, years ago. Though during the British insurrection, the section had performed invaluable service to the rebels, it had become, in the following years, the shame of the whole U.S.S., infiltrated by double agents, triple agents, and spies, bribes exchanging hands on a daily basis… It took some dedicated men like Scarlet’s own grandfather, the then almost retired Paul Blake, and Charles Gray, along with a lot of investigation and legal procedures, to bring that U.S.S. section back to its old glory.

“I wish I knew exactly,” White said, shrugging. “I still can’t remember… What I DO know, however is that Elizabeth would not let me go alone. She wanted to come with me. She would not budge one inch in her decision. She was… quite stubborn, you know. So we boarded that private plane together.”

White stopped, seeming to remember something. Scarlet saw him remove the cardboard on the back of the frame; a yellow piece of folded newspaper clipping slid into the open hand of the Spectrum commander. He unfolded it to reveal the news article Scarlet had seen on the computer the day before; the one relating the plane accident that had occurred seventeen years ago. The captain shook his head.

“I didn’t know you kept that in there.”

“Yes, well… Call me a masochist if you want… Despite what it represents, that was the very last reminder I had of my wife. I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.” White carefully folded the paper and put it back behind the photograph, in the frame, before putting the same frame flat on the desk’s surface. “She was thirty-three when that crash happened. And pregnant. The child was to be born two months after… Dear Lord, I can’t imagine it was… seventeen years ago.” He stopped, staring at the picture, lost in his thoughts. “While I was recovering in the hospital, after the crash, I learned that she was expecting a girl. Elizabeth had been informed of that shortly before we boarded that plane. She never told me. I suppose she wanted to keep it as a surprise.”

“You seem to remember quite a lot, sir,” Scarlet remarked. “And it’s surprising how… well you’re taking all this.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Captain,” White replied dully. “But it’s been years… I can’t change anything now about what happened then. It doesn’t make it any less painful, however…” He shook his head. “I still can’t get over the fact that I’ve forgotten about it. It should not have happened.” He looked at Scarlet. “I KNOW I still don’t remember everything about her… But, a lot is coming back to me… As for the rest…” White gestured hopelessly into empty space. “My memories are still quite fuzzy…”

“Well, if you’re remembering about her, there’s a good chance the rest will come back shortly to you.”

“You really think so, eh?” White gave a sigh, in which it was easy to read frustration. “I don’t understand… I mean, I’m inclined to believe that you told the truth… That the fact that I forgot about my wife’s… being gone for so many years, isn’t a simple amnesia, following the Dream Spinner treatment I received… That, in fact, the memory of her still being alive was planted in my mind…” He scrutinised the young captain with a quizzical glance. “WHY do that? Why make me believe she was still alive, in the first place?”

Scarlet gave it some thought. He shook his head again. “I don’t really have an answer. But maybe… they thought it would increase your efficiency in the mission they had for you. Perhaps they thought that having a wife to come back to was an additional motivation.”

“By ‘they’… you mean those Mysterons of yours.”

“They had a hand in what happened to you, sir.”

White shook his head, still obviously doubtful. “I wish I could believe you implicitly, Captain. But I can’t shake the feeling that I CAN’T TRUST you entirely. There’s still nothing to tell me you haven’t staged this whole affair.”

“Would I go this far?” Scarlet asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, I…” White sighed, taking his head between his hands. He ran his fingers through his silver hair and slightly grazed the dressing that covered the swellings on the back of his head, still a vivid reminder of what had happened to him. He raised his eyes to look at Scarlet. “I admit… you’re familiar, somehow…” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if I can trust you, that is true, but I’m sure that I know you.”

Scarlet smiled reassuringly. “That’s a step forward, anyway…”

“You said your family was involved in the insurrection,” White continued. “And that your name is Metcalfe…”

Scarlet nodded. “Yes, sir. Paul Metcalfe.”

“I know of men bearing the Metcalfe name…” White continued, frowning. “Wasn’t your grandfather called Samuel? A former Militarist… He was part of the delegation that approached President Bandranaik to request World Government support against the Militarists…”

Scarlet smiled again. “That was my great-grandfather, actually… Before the civil war, he was indeed a convinced Militarist… but he saw what the Government had become, and joined the rebel cause as his son and grandsons had done. He didn’t want his great-grandchildren – my cousins and me – to grow up in a Military State.”

“Great-grandfather?” White repeated.

“That WAS almost twenty-five years ago, sir,” Scarlet explained, shaking his head. “Samuel Metcalfe died in July 2052…  five years after the end of the civil war… And three months after the World President made him one of the  first four-star generals in the newly formed World Army/Air Force, for his actions during the insurrection.”

White scowled. “Now I feel old…”

Scarlet laughed. “You’re still young enough to give us a run for our money, like you did yesterday, sir… You’re certainly not old… My father is only a couple of years older than you…”

White stared Scarlet straight in the eyes. “What is your father’s name, Captain?” he asked, a sudden thought coming to his mind. ‘It’s not… CHARLES Metcalfe?”

Scarlet frowned. “You remember that, sir?”

“No, not exactly. I…” White sighed deeply, then shrugged. “Just recalling a conversation I had with MY father, a very long time ago…” He stared again at the puzzled younger man. “Talk about a coincidence…” He cleared his throat. “You also said your grandfather was in the U.S.S…”

Scarlet nodded. “My maternal grandfather, yes.”

“Not a Metcalfe, then.”

“No. His name was Paul Blake. I was named after him.” Scarlet rubbed his chin. “And you knew him.”

“So you said, already,” White noted, still apparently defiant.

The younger man stared at him, thoughtfully. “It’s the truth, sir. I’m not lying to you.”

White closely scrutinised the young man’s face. He wasn’t able to read anything deceitful in his clear blue eyes. He slowly shook his head. “You seem sincere enough…”

“I am, sir.”

White was still intensely gauging the younger officer. “Let’s just say for now that I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt… To you and that organisation of yours”

Scarlet blew out a sigh of relief, before answering with a roguish smile. “I suppose that, FOR NOW, it will be enough…” Yes, for now, he added inwardly. At least, we’re progressing, here… But there is a lot more work to do before winning his trust completely.

But… was it enough, at this point, to think he would reveal what the Mysterons’ plan might be? The British captain realised fully that his commander, still confused enough, could very well interpret this as the final chapter of an elaborated scam to extract information out of him.

Scarlet hesitated a few seconds, looking at Colonel White with a wondering look. Then he decided to give it a try. This was his job, anyway… And time was really running out. He started out, unsure. “About the Mysterons, sir… I hope you won’t take it the wrong way, but I have to ask you…”

A beeping sound at the door interrupted Scarlet and drew his attention. “Who’s there?” he called, turning toward the door.

“It’s me, Captain Scarlet.”

It was the voice of Captain Blue, coming from the loudspeaker. Finally, Scarlet thought with satisfaction. He hoped his partner had found something in his latest search. Perhaps something that would at last convince White to confide in them. They certainly had dire need of that. Under the circumstances, Scarlet was prepared to wait before asking his commander about the Mysterons’ plans.

“Come in, Captain Blue.”

The door slid open and Captain Blue stepped into the Colonel’s quarters, a folder under his arm. With one quick glance, he grasped the situation. A couple of hours ago, Scarlet had called him in the Control Room, to tell him about what had happened on the Promenade Deck. He was pleasantly surprised to see that White was still out of restraints.

“How’s it going?” he asked Scarlet.

“Slowly,” his partner replied. “But… it’s encouraging.”

“So I see. You’re not at each other’s throats.”

“The… ‘admiral’ admits he doesn’t trust Spectrum entirely,” Scarlet explained. “But it seems that now he’s more willing to listen.”

Blue nodded slowly. “Glad to hear that.” He stared at Colonel White, who returned the same intense look. “You look tired, sir. How are you doing? Considering… what you just learned?”

“I feel tired… Captain,” White responded, shaking his head. “But I can’t rest. Right now, I…” He hesitated, then turned in Scarlet’s direction. “How did those doctors of yours put it?”

His compatriot nodded and addressed Blue. “He’s working purely on adrenaline… given what was done to him. Fortunately, rather than fight us, his energies are focused on trying to sort his thoughts out and to understand what happened to him…”

“I can see HOW it’s good.” Blue paused a second, staring at his commander, before turning to Scarlet. “How much can we tell him before he…?”

“Before it sets me off?” Blue turned again toward Colonel White, who had uttered these words, very calmly. The older man gave him an understanding nod. “I’m quite aware of that aspect of my condition, Captain. Before being captured by Spectrum, I was taking some medication to… fight that.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t always a complete success.”

“Do you… feel any craving for that medication, sir?” Blue asked with concern.

“Your doctors told me it was addictive stuff. If indeed it is true, I don’t feel any need for it… for now.” White addressed a wicked smile to Blue. “Perhaps I’ll find another way to vent the frustration…”

“By ‘getting at me’, perhaps, sir?” Blue retorted flatly, remembering the threatening words White had addressed to him, some hours earlier in sickbay.

“Right now, I’d be foolish to try, wouldn’t I?”

The smile on Colonel White’s face broadened. Blue couldn’t decide if he should respond to that smile with a scowl, or a grin of his own. He chose the latter, and added a shake of his head. “I’d say you’d be better served to wait and hear what I have to say, before deciding to try and strangle me.”

“You have good news?” Scarlet asked, expectantly.

“It depends on your point of view.” Blue paused again a few seconds before brandishing the folder. “I found information on Jackson Bennett.” He checked the colonel’s reaction to the mention of that name. He saw the older man frown.

“I already know what’s in that,” White declared.

“You think you do, sir?” Blue replied. “I may surprise you, you know…”

“Blue, stop beating around the bush,” Scarlet cut in at this moment. “What did you find?”

Captain Blue opened the folder, and started reading the file within, pacing around the room. “It’s on the Navy enlistment rolls of the British Military, during the time of the Militarist Government, that I found the name of Jackson Bennett… Brilliant subject. His record was remarkable for twelve years, serving on various British warships. Militarist partisan to the core, very loyal to the regime of the time, even to a fault. His loyalty – some would say fanaticism – had pushed him a couple of times to perform acts that did not meet with the complete approval of his superiors, who transferred him frequently. They probably felt they didn’t need a loose cannon in command of a warship, because, despite his record, he never advanced to the rank of captain. The highest rank he received was that of commander.” The American captain stopped in front of Colonel White. “His career ended abruptly in 2046. He was first officer on board the Sir Francis Drake destroyer, commanded by Captain Charles Gray, when the latter decided to turn his ship against the British Navy, in order to protect a rebel base in the Orkney Islands. Needless to say, the captain’s decision didn’t please Commander Bennett at all…”

“That will be quite enough, Captain,” White grumbled dryly. “I do not need to be reminded of what happened then. I killed him. I found him going through my things in my cabin. He drew a gun on me. We fought for it, I won. And shot him with his own gun. The Militarist authorities have wanted my head ever since, for murdering such a ‘loyal officer’.”

“You didn’t murder him,” Blue replied.

“That’s right, you were at war,” Scarlet added. “Bennett was…”

“A traitor, Captain?” White interrupted. “Forgive me… But seeing that I decided to side with the rebels… it would seem it was me who would be considered a traitor…”

“I was going to say ‘an enemy’, sir,” Scarlet replied softly. “And no, you were never considered a traitor. But rather a hero.”

“Oh, right… You’re still trying to mellow me so you can earn my trust,” White scoffed. “What difference could it make, anyway? I shot Jackson Bennett and he died. End of story.”

“Well, it’s not the end you seem to think, sir. You didn’t let me finish.” Blue closed the folder and put it on the desk, looking closely at his commander. “You did find him searching your cabin. You fought with him for the control of a gun. He was shot. But you didn’t kill him. He didn’t die.”

Scarlet almost jumped. “What?”

“What are you saying?” White said in turn, frowning.

“You didn’t kill Jackson Bennett. The gun went off by itself during your fight with him. The bullet hit him. He was severely wounded, but he didn’t die… You left him in the care of your onboard medic and his life was saved.”

“Wait a minute… That can’t be right!” White protested. “I REMEMBER tearing that gun out of his hand and shooting him down like the dog he was! He was dead, at my feet!”

Blue tapped the folder. “I have YOUR own report confirming what I say, sir.”