Aside from a few minor alterations in paragraph construction and punctuation
(mainly due to difficulties with OCR scanning process), this story is posted
as it previously appeared in 21rst Century Fiction, Issue Number 2 (1992). |
A ‘Captain
Scarlet and the Mysterons’ story
BY COLIN TAYLOR
The Mysterons.
Sworn enemies of Earth.
Possessing the ability to re‑create an
exact likeness of an object or person.
But first, they must destroy.
Leading the fight, one man Fate has made
indestructible.
His name ‑ Captain Scarlet.
Forty
thousand feet above the earth's surface, Cloudbase, Headquarters of the
Spectrum Organisation, navigation beacons glowing brightly, hovered
effortlessly in the blue‑black sky.
The full moon shone down onto the vast expanse of the flight deck and
the trio of Angel aircraft clamped to it.
The beauty of the
night was lost on the figure gazing pensively through a porthole into the
darkness outside. Colonel White was apprehensive as the News programme
approached. He'd been warned by his agents to expect trouble. Exactly what the
problem might be was not clear, but the intelligence from his agents could
usually be relied upon.
As the signature
tune surged, he moved back to his desk and ordered Lieutenant Green to relay it
to all parts of Cloudbase. "This concerns all of us," he said, by way
of explanation. The lead story concerned the closure of the Trans‑Alpine
road tunnel, owing to its age and also the fact that insufficient toll money
was being taken to cover the ever‑increasing costs of the tunnel,
everyone seeming to prefer the much faster monorails.
The next item
concerned the impending World‑Presidential Elections. Although the
current incumbent was generally well thought of, the leading challenger,
Senator Grayson, was rapidly catching up in the opinion polls. Grayson was a
relative newcomer to the Senate, only having been elected to the House three
months before.
The main thrust of
his campaign seemed to be an attack on the fiscal policies of the current
Government, accusing them of squandering valuable resources on pie‑in‑the‑sky
schemes and calling for major cuts in the Armed Forces.
The Newsreader
then handed over to a Reporter in the main Parliament Building where Senator
Grayson was, at that moment delivering a speech to the entire Parliament. The
atmosphere had already been whipped up to a fever pitch when the Senator
delivered his final broadside: “In
addition to keeping massive Armed forces when the whole world has been at peace
for decades, he still persists in squandering millions so that Spectrum can go
chasing phantoms. I say ENOUGH! We have humoured these deluded individuals in
their castle in the air for far too long. It's time we stopped their fantasies
about Alien attacks from Mars ‑ I stopped reading fairy stories when I
was five! I demand that the World President stops this lunacy NOW!”
The House went
wild. A chant of “Stop Spectrum Now”
started somewhere on the floor and spread rapidly until the everyone seemed
To
be chanting in unison.
Grayson
allowed himself a half smile of pleasure. It was so nice to have an appreciative
audience.
“Cut
it!” The voice that Lieutenant Green
heard was of an old, worried man. The Colonel had known that the Senator was no
fan of Spectrum, but hadn't realised that things were this bad. At that moment,
a light flashed on Lieutenant Green's console. He pressed a switch and listened
for a moment before announcing, “Chief of Staff for you, Colonel.”
“Thank
you, Lieutenant, put him on." No matter how bad the situation, Colonel
White was always polite.
Down
in the Amber room, Captain Blue was deep in thought. "Sorry, I was miles
away,” he explained as he realised that Captain Scarlet had just said
something.
“I
said that I thought I could smell burning when I saw you thinking. It looked
painful," said Scarlet with a grin, just avoiding the newspaper that Blue
hurled at him.
“I
was actually thinking about that news report," Blue stated.
“Yeah,"
retorted Captain Magenta. "That Grayson really has it in for us."
"I
shouldn't worry too much," said Captain Grey. "These politicians will
rant about anything if they think it'll get votes. He'll find another target
next week, you'll see."
“I'm
not so sure," said Scarlet. "Senator Grayson is a very powerful man.
His favourite hobbyhorse is spending cuts and since we haven't heard a peep
from the Mysterons for months, he's bound to say that we aren't needed
now." Indeed, this was true. Since the abortive attack on the Trans‑European
Monorail, three months before, the Mysterons had been conspicuous by their
absence and, indeed, some people were beginning to think that the war of nerves
had been called off. Scarlet was not one of them.
“You
heard what he said on the News," replied Blue. "He doesn't believe in
the existence of the Mysterons anyway, so he's bound to think we're wasting our
time up here."
Up
in the Control Room, Colonel White's face was grim as he listened to the Chief
of Staff. "Finally," the General continued, "Cloudbase is to
proceed with all speed to Glenn Field, to await landing instructions prior to decommissioning."
"With
all due respect, General ‑" White began, but it was too late. The General's face had already disappeared
from the screen. "Cease operations indeed!” he growled.
"The
General was right though, about there having been no Mysteron attacks,
sir. Perhaps they HAVE called the war
off," said Green sympathetically.
"No,
Lieutenant, I don't think so," replied Colonel White grimly. "I feel
certain that they would have announced the fact. No, they're still waiting for
their chance and these orders might
just be it. Get me the World President!”
The
World President was blunt to the point of rudeness. "The orders were quite
explicit, Colonel. The Spectrum organisation is to cease all activities
immediately and Cloudbase is to proceed to Glenn Field, where it is to be
handed over to the World Air Force."
"Would
you mind telling me why, sir?" asked Colonel White with as much patience
as he could muster.
"Cost,
Colonel," came the reply from the man on the screen. "Do you have any
idea how much it costs to keep an organisation like Spectrum in business?"
"The
cost is high," agreed Colonel White. "But the Mysterons –“
"The
Mysterons are no worse than any other terrorist group," the President
interrupted. "I'm sure that the normal security forces are quite capable
of dealing with any situation that may arise."
"The
Mysterons are no ordinary terrorist organisation," snapped Colonel White.
"They have powers we cannot begin to comprehend. Surely you don't deny the
attempt on your own life."
Indeed,
after the crew of the Zero‑X had mistakenly opened fire on the Martian
Complex, the Mysterons had stated that their first act of retaliation, in what
had become known as the "War of Nerves", would be to assassinate the
very man who was now, seemingly, denying the existence of any threat.
“If
you recall, Colonel," the President sneered, "of the two men you sent
to guard me, one tried to blow me up, and the other one kidnapped me!"
Colonel
White winced ‑ the President had hit a raw nerve. The Colonel had sent
bodyguards, in the shape of Captains Brown and Scarlet, to escort the World
President to the Spectrum Maximum Security Building in New York. On the way,
however, something had happened to them. The bodies of the two officers had
been found near the burnt‑out wreckage of their Saloon Car, but not
before Captain Brown had exploded, completely destroying the Maximum Security
building and nearly killing the President.
The
discovery of Captain Brown's body had alerted the Colonel that Scarlet, too, had
been affected and he ordered the Angels, already flying as escort, to intercept
him and the President. Scarlet and the President had ejected from the Passenger
Jet in which they had been flying and still holding the President at gunpoint,
Scarlet had stolen a car and had driven himself and the President towards
London. The chase had ended in a dramatic shoot‑out on the top of the
London Car‑Vu, with Scarlet falling eight hundred feet to his death and
Captain Blue saving the President in the nick of time from the collapsing
tower.
What
few people outside Spectrum were aware of was that when the body of Captain Scarlet had been returned to Cloudbase
for Doctor Fawn to carry out a post‑mortem, it was found to have healed
completely. Scarlet had returned to life, but had lost the controlling
influence of the Mysterons. Thus he had become an invaluable asset to Spectrum
in the war against the Mysterons.
“With
respect, Sir, the officers in question, were being controlled by the
Mysterons,” Colonel White asserted. "They would have been totally unaware
of what they were doing."
“So
you say, Colonel, I think it's about time we faced facts, “ the
President replied. “All these so‑called Mysteron attacks are carried out
by human beings, just like you and me. There's no evidence that aliens are at
work. There is evidence, however, that Spectrum is costing a very great deal of
money. Money that could be more profitably used elsewhere. You have your
orders. I suggest you carry them out." With that, the President's face
disappeared from the screen.
“Politicians!"
snorted Colonel White angrily. "All they ever worry about is money."
He pressed a button in front of him and his desk gently rotated until he was
once more facing Lieutenant Green. "Lieutenant Green, assemble everyone in
the Conference room in five minutes," he ordered.
"S.I.G.
sir,” replied Green, reaching for a switch.
Several
thousand miles away, in the President's office in Geneva, a figure slumped
forward in his chair. The strain had been intense. When the Colonel's image had
faded from the screen, the figure had seemed to collapse inward like a deflated
balloon. With an effort, the figure raised its head and stared at the other
occupant of the room. "How much longer must this go on?" he whispered.
"Until
we have achieved our aim, Mr President," Senator Grayson smiled. This
wretch was so easy to control. It would be child's play to eliminate Spectrum.
That old fool Colonel White would obey orders, no matter how strange they might
be, he was sure of that.
"Cease
Operations?" Scarlet's voice was incredulous as Colonel White had broken
the news.
"Yes
Captain, he was emphatic on that point. “Spectrum is to cease all operations
with immediate effect," Colonel White replied.
"But
what about the Mysterons, sir?” asked Captain Blue.
"You
all saw for yourselves on the Video. He just doesn't believe in their
existence."
They
all lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
A
strange thought entered Scarlet's head. He dismissed it as being too crazy for
words. It forced its way back and the more he thought about it, the more it
seemed to make sense. "Colonel," he began, but before he could utter
another word, he was interrupted by a voice that none of t them had wanted to
hear again. The voice was clear, as it always was, deep and filled with
infinite menace.
“THIS
IS THE VOICE OF THE MYSTERONS.
WE
KNOW THAT YOU CAN HEAR US EARTHMEN.
WE
HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOUR UNPROVOKED ATTACK ON OUR MARTIAN COMPLEX.
YOU
ARE ALREADY POWERLESS
WE
WILL BE AVENGED."
"Well, I suppose
that means that we're back in business," smiled Captain Magenta.
"We were never out
of business, Captain," snapped Colonel White crossly.
"What did they mean?
'We are already powerless?" asked Captain Blue. "Spectrum is still
operational."
"Officially, we're
not," retorted Colonel White. He turned to Lieutenant Green. "Get me
The World President."
"S.I.G. sir."
Green tried several times to make contact, but to no avail. “It's as if they
are deliberately ignoring us," The young Lieutenant stated.
"That does it,"
Colonel White thundered. "I'm going to see the President in person and
find out what he's playing at. Captain Blue, since it was you who rescued the
World President from the Car‑Vu, I'd like you to accompany me."
"S.I.G., sir,"
Blue acknowledged.
"Should I alert the
Angels, sir?" asked Green.
"No
Lieutenant," White replied. "They may be needed to defend
Cloudbase."
"Surely you should
be escorted by at least one Angel?” suggested Scarlet.
"No, Captain,
Cloudbase is more important than any one individual. They will remain here in
case they're needed."
"Well let me come
with you then," he ventured.
"No, you are to remain here in charge.
You are to keep a round‑the-clock radar watch. Is that understood?"
"S.I.G., sir,"
Scarlet replied resignedly.
With that, White strode out, closely followed
by Captain Blue. Ten minutes later, the Spectrum Passenger Jet, with Colonel
White and Blue aboard, stood on the deck of Cloudbase, awaiting launch
clearance.
In the cockpit,
Lieutenant Green's voice could be heard clearly over the radio. "This is
Spectrum Control, You are clear to go."
"S.I.G.,"
replied Blue, pushing forward the throttles. The Passenger Jet rolled forward
and then lifted gracefully into the air, the moonlight glinting on its wings.
"Colonel White and
Captain Blue have taken off successfully," reported Lieutenant Green to
Captain Scarlet, now seated at the Colonel's desk.
"Thank you
Lieutenant," replied Scarlet.
"I'm sure the
Colonel will be able to sort things out," said Green. "But I still
think he should have had some kind of escort.”
“I
know what you mean,” replied Scarlet. "But he was adamant that the Angels
were not to leave Cloudbase." As he said this, the answer came to him.
They could provide an escort, of sorts, without having the Angels leave
Cloudbase. "Start Horizontal Jets, Lieutenant," he ordered. “And lay
a course for Geneva."
"'S.I,G.
Captain Scarlet," smiled Green, reaching for a control. His chair moved
along its travelator until it reached the correct place on the console. He
touched another control.
Outside,
jets flared into life and the huge bulk of Cloudbase, Angel aircraft still
firmly clamped to the flight deck, gently picked up speed. There was no way
that it could ever hope to catch the Passenger Jet, but at least if the Colonel
needed the Angels, they would be close at hand.
In
the Passenger Jet, Colonel White and Captain Blue were discussing the
situation.
"Why
do you think the World President has turned against us, sir?" asked
Captain Blue.
"I
don't know for certain," replied White. "But I have a feeling that
there's more to this than meets the eye.”
"Could
he have been taken over by the Mysterons?"
“It's
possible, but I wouldn't have thought it likely," replied White after a
moments consideration. "They've already made one unsuccessful attack on
him. One of the few things we know about the Mysterons is that they never
repeat an attack. No, Captain, one of the few things we can be sure of is that
the one person who hasn't been taken over is the World President."
The
Swiss chalet was large and comfortable, obviously a family home. A series of
framed photographs stood on the Grand piano, showing the various members of the
family. Starting with a wedding group the collection had grown to encompass the
new members as they had been born and later, started school. There was even
one, taken only a few weeks ago, showing the whole group skiing in the nearby
Alps. Now, save for the lone figure watching the News Programme, it was empty.
None of the items made an impression on the figure until the World President
appeared on the screen. The figure concentrated hard as the President started
to speak.
"My
Fellow People of Earth, I have decided that, on account of their continued
resistance to my orders and the attempts on my life made by two of its members,
the Spectrum Organisation is to be considered a subversive organisation and all
equipment is to be impounded immediately. In addition, all Spectrum personnel
are to surrender to the security services immediately. Failure to do so will in
their immediate arrest."
The figure sank back and relaxed. Things were working
out just fine.
The programme Controller at the television station
allowed herself a small moment of
displeasure. It had been a good broadcast but that new
vision mixer hadn't been quick enough cutting away from the picture of the
President. The audience out there might have seen him sag as he'd finished his
speech. Then again, the old boy didn't look all that well anyway. He looked as
if he was under strain.
She shrugged.
She'd probably find it a strain doing his job.
On
Cloudbase, the News broadcast had been watched in horrified silence. Lieutenant
Green's normal smile had vanished, to be replaced by a worried frown. No‑one
said a word. With no‑one to defend them, the peoples of Earth were
doomed. The Mysterons would win. All this because a politician had changed his
mind. Or, as Captain Scarlet surmised, was persuaded to change it. Something
started to niggle at the back of his mind. Something he'd just seen had started
an alarm bell ringing somewhere in his subconscious.
"Lieutenant
Green," he said slowly. "Do we have recordings of all the news
broadcasts over the last twenty‑four hours?"
"Yes
Captain Scarlet," Green replied. "They are recorded as a matter of
course."
"Play
them back," ordered Scarlet.
"All
of them?" Green asked in disbelief.
"All
of them," Scarlet confirmed.
"What
are you looking for?” asked Captain Grey.
"I
don't know for certain," admitted Scarlet.
"But
there's something in one of these broadcasts that feels wrong somehow and I
want to know what it is. Whilst Captain Grey and I are reviewing the tapes, try
and contact Colonel White to advise him of the situation."
"S.I.G.,"
replied Green and pressed a switch.
Scarlet
and Grey started to watch the video screens.
"He's
WHAT?” thundered Colonel White.
"That's
right sir," Green's voice sounded apologetic over the radio. "The
World President has just announced that all Spectrum personnel are to surrender
to the Security forces immediately."
"Thank
you, Lieutenant." White shut off the call. "First we cost too much,
now we're subversive," he muttered, lapsing into thought.
"Geneva
ten minutes away, Colonel."
"Thank
you, Captain," replied White.
At
that moment, the radio crackled as a channel was opened.
"Spectrum
Jet," said the voice. "This is Flight Seven Three. You are under
arrest. You are to land at Geneva airport. Any deviation in flight path will
result in your being shot down. Over."
The
two officers looked out of the cabin windows. On each side they could see World
Army Viper aircraft, upon which the Angel aircraft had been based. They had no
alternative. "Flight Seven Three,” Blue responded. "Will follow you
to Geneva. Out."
"Try
and contact Cloudbase, Captain," ordered White.
“S.I.G.,”
replied Blue, reaching for the radio switch.
The
pilot of the lead Viper was obviously monitoring their radio, for as soon as
Blue had opened the channel, his voice came back over the radio: "Flight Seven Three to Spectrum Jet,
you are to make no unauthorised radio calls. Failure to comply will result in
your immediate destruction.”
Colonel
White had had enough. "This is Colonel White, Commander‑in-Chief of
Spectrum. By whose authority are these orders?" he demanded.
“The
World President's," came the apologetic reply.
A
new voice came over the loudspeaker: "This is Geneva Control to Flight
Seven Three and Spectrum Jet. You are clear to land on Runway Two‑Seven."
Captain
Blue had no choice. "Roger, Geneva
Control," he acknowledged.
The
Passenger Jet banked onto Final Approach. The sun was just rising over the
hills. It would be another fine day. Colonel White was in no mood for sunrises.
Captain Scarlet
yawned, stretched and looked at his watch. Six A.M. He and Captain Grey had been working half the night. The first
part had been easy, editing out the other news items of no interest such as the
Trans-Alpine tunnel report. That just left them with two hours ' worth of
Political news.
“Just what are we
looking for?" Captain Grey had asked as they were starting.
"Something, anything that seems out of
place," replied Scarlet. So they had watched the video over and over
again, forwards and backwards until they both felt that they could recite every
word that the politicians had uttered that day. "Yesterday, now,"
thought Scarlet grimly. "Come on," he said to Grey. "Let's go
and grab some coffee."
"Good
idea. I could do with a break," agreed Grey.
As they walked
down the corridor, Grey said cheerfully, "I don't know what sort of people
become politicians, but they all seem to say the same sort of thing. Take the
World President for example. I always thought that he was a nice guy, but he
seems to have changed his whole attitude in the past few weeks. He's even been
going on about Spectrum the same way that Senator Grayson does. It's almost as
if they have the same speech writer."
The alarm
inside Scarlet's head ringing again. Faint though it was, it was clear. He now
knew that he'd have to concentrate on the President.
"I’m going
to have another look at the Presidential broadcast," he told Grey.
“But what's the
point?" protested Grey. "We've both watched them until we can recite
every word verbatim."
"I
know," agreed Scarlet. "We've been obsessed with what's being said. I
think we should be checking on what isn't." He turned on his heel and
started back down the corridor.
Sighing to
himself, Grey followed him.
“This is
ridiculous, Colonel," fumed Captain Blue.
"These guys are treating us like common criminals."
"Unfortunately,
Captain that's just what we are, as far as they're concerned," replied
White calmly.
As soon as the Passenger Jet had landed and
rolled to a halt, it had been surrounded by heavily armed security guards. On
stepping from the aircraft, the two officers had been arrested, their equipment
seized and were now locked, in the absence of cells, in a small rest room in
the Control Tower of the airport.
Colonel White
had immediately demanded to see the World President. The Guard Commander seemed
rather uncomfortable at having to arrest Spectrum officers. In fact, for a few
moments, he had looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought
better of it. He had promised to see what he could do. That had been two hours
ago. Since then, they'd heard nothing.
"If only
we could get to see the World President," began Captain Blue. He was
interrupted by the sound of the door being, unlocked. White stood to welcome
the visitor. The door opened and a guard entered, followed by a small,
bespectacled man, carrying an attaché case. The guard saluted and left the
room. They heard the door being locked.
"Good
morning, gentlemen. My name's Johanssen. I shall be your defence counsel. Now,
I have already put in a plea of not guilty for you both, but I shall need to
hear your side of the matter in order to proceed further."
Captain Blue
was the first to break the stunned silence. "Defence Counsel? You mean
we're on trial?"
"Quite so,
Captain. A full Court Martial," replied Johanssen. "Now, as I was
saying - "
White
interrupted him: "Mr Johanssen, what exactly are we charged with?"
Johanssen
looked uncomfortable. "I'm afraid the charges are very grave indeed.
Mutiny, Treason and Armed Insurrection."
"Armed
Insurrection!" thundered White. "What the devil are you talking
about, man?"
"I'm
afraid so, Colonel," Johanssen replied. "The Prosecution will be
pressing for the maximum penalty."
"Which
is?" asked Blue uneasily.
"Johanssen
shuffled uncomfortably, took off his spectacles and polished them as if to put
off the fateful moment. "Let me put it this way, Captain," he replied
sheepishly, "no-one's ever been found guilty twice!"
“There!” Scarlet's voice was triumphant.
The two
officers had spent another two hours peering intently at the flickering screen
in front of them. This time they were concentrating on the Presidential
address, running it backwards and forwards. Captain Grey felt his eyes
beginning to twist in their sockets with the strain. Finally, Scarlet had
stopped the tape and then started to play it frame-by-frame. He knew he'd
almost got it. He'd reached the last few seconds before the end of the
broadcast. Just a few more frames, slower and slower until...
“We've been
over this tape and found nothing,” protested Grey. "Let's face it, we've
been barking up the wrong tree for the last few hours.”
“That's just
it,” replied Scarlet. "The evidence has been under our noses all the time.
Watch carefully."
Scarlet rewound
the machine a few frames and then pressed 'play'.
“All Spectrum
personnel are to surrender to the security services immediately," the
voice on the tape proclaimed. "Failure to do so will result in their
immediate -" Scarlet stopped the tape and switched to single-frame. The
two officers watched the President as he mouthed the word arrest in slow motion
. Then, the clue Scarlet had been looking for, the President's head appeared to
drop and his eyes to close. Unfortunately, the programme cut back to the studio
before they could be certain.
"Well?"
asked Scarlet expectantly.
Grey thought
for a moment. "He looked very much to me," he said slowly, "like
a puppet that's just had its strings cut."
"Yes, and
did you notice his eyes? They looked glazed," replied Scarlet. "I
think he was in some kind of trance, as if he'd been drugged." He rose
from his seat. "Come on, let's
report this to Colonel White."
The figure in the Swiss apartment sat down to breakfast and opened his
newspaper. He smiled when he saw the headlines:
SPECTRUM COLONEL ARRESTED
He read the report carefully, Yes indeed, things
were working better than he could ever have hoped.
"What do you mean, you can't raise them?"
Scarlet snapped angrily at Lieutenant Green.
"That's
right, Captain Scarlet," he replied unhappily. "I can't make contact
with either Colonel White or Captain Blue."
"Keep
trying," ordered Scarlet. He had the strangest feeling that something,
somewhere was horribly wrong.
Breakfast
completed, the figure stood and prepared to go to work in his office in Geneva.
From his smart suit and neat attaché case, it was clear he was a man of power
and influence. He paused for a moment in front of one of the photographs on the
piano. Vague, half-forgotten memories stirred gently in his mind. He turned
away and picking up his case, left the room. Later, when he had time, he'd
dispose of the photographs. They belonged to a past he no longer cared about.
He got into his car and drove away. The annoying thought crossed his mind that
he'd have to take the mountain road now that the tunnel was closed.
Still, it had
been necessary. It cost far too much. At least, that was the reason he'd given
for its closure. The real reason, only he knew.
Not far away,
another figure was waiting, binoculars trained on his quarry. It was bitterly
cold that high in the mountains, but the figure was oblivious to it. Only
humans feel the cold.
Once, as Conrad
Turner, he had been a hero in the struggle for world peace, one of Spectrum's
finest officers. Because of this, he had been placed in charge of the Zero-X
mission to investigate the mysterious signals that had originated on Mars. Now,
because of a tragic error of judgement in destroying the Mysteron city, he had
not only brought the wrath of the Mysterons upon the earth, but had also become
their agent, a puppet totally subservient to their wishes. His name - Captain
Black.
Through the
binoculars, Black could see the elderly gentleman kiss his wife and children,
climb into his car and then drive away. He Knew what he had to do. He put down
the binoculars and reached for the long bundle beside him. Unwrapping the
bundle revealed a high-powered rifle with telescopic sight. Putting the sight
to his eye, he waited.
"I still
can't make contact, Captain," reported Lieutenant Green unhappily.
"Keep
trying," Scarlet replied grimly. Something was definitely wrong. The
Colonel wouldn't miss a report willingly.
At that moment,
a light flashed on Green's console. He pressed a switch. "This is Spectrum
Control. Go ahead," he said, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
"This is
Spectrum agent Five Three Five. Security forces are hunting me," the
message came as a hurried whisper. "Colonel White and Captain Blue have
been arrested and are being held in Geneva airport pending Court Martial."
"Court
Martial!" echoed Scarlet in disbelief.
"Hang
on," whispered the agent. "There's something going on." The
Spectrum officers heard the microphone being put down. For a few moments they
heard only background noise.
"What's
going on?" muttered Grey
“I don’t
know,” said Scarlet. "I suppose we'll have
to -" he was interrupted by the
radio. The agent was now panic-stricken and made no attempt to whisper.
"Oh my god! they've found me. There's someone with them. It's the Pres -
" There was a burst of automatic fire, a scream then silence.
The Spectrum Officers looked at each other aghast. If an agent had lost his
life in getting that snippet of information to them, the stakes were high
indeed.
The President
kicked the body lying on the floor of his office. "Get that out of
here," he ordered.
"Yessir,"
replied the new Guard Commander. He turned to his men. "Right, you heard
what the President said, get that body shifted."
Grunting a little at the strain, they dragged
the body out, leaving the President and the Commander alone.
The President
dismissed him. "Thank you Commander, that will be ail."
"Yessir!"
The commander saluted, turned on his heel and marched out. As he marched away,
he reflected on how drawn the old guy was looking these days. Pressure of work,
he thought to himself.
As the door
slid shut, the President's head sagged onto his chest. His head ached. Things
were wrong, he knew, but the more he tried to think, the greater the pain.
Things had been fine until... until... but the memory just wouldn't come.
Mind still
churning like a boiling liquid, he fell into an exhausted steep
The elderly gentleman was enjoying his drive to
work despite the slipperiness of the road. "One would have thought,"
he pondered. "That by the latter half of the twenty-first century they
could have come up with a better way of keeping the mountain roads clear of
snow. Ah well."
He contented
himself with the fact that, since he would be retiring after this case anyway,
he wouldn't have to worry about it much longer. He drove steadily enjoying the
bright sunshine. Yes, he thought, it had been a great idea to move to the
Alpine cottage. Away from the bustle of the City, but only half-an-hour's drive
from it. It was one of the perks of being the chief Judge in Geneva. That he
was the oldest and most respected pleased him immensely.
As he motored sedately down the
mountainside, his thoughts turned to the case that he'd have to sit today. A
Court Martial. It made a change from
all that fraud and robbery. A shame too, that such eminent officers should be
brought before him. "Thus are the mighty fallen, he mused.
Lost in his
thoughts, he
passed a sign without noticing it. The message it bore was simple: DANGER!
AVALANCHE.
On the hillside
above, Captain Black lined up the cross-hairs precisely, then squeezed gently
on the trigger.
The motorist
had no chance.
With a roar,
the charges, laid by Captain Black, exploded and started an avalanche. The
driver was shaken from his reverie by the sound. He looked up and saw the
avalanche thundering towards him. His foot stabbed at the brake pedal, but to
no avail. Wheels locked, the car began to skid uncontrollably. The sound of his
scream of terror was lost as the wall of snow and ice, moving faster than an
express train, engulfed the car and swept it over the precipice into the gorge
below.
Black made his
way down the mountainside.
The last flakes
of snow settled on the now buried wreckage of the car and driver.
As Black
watched, twin circles of light spiralled down from the sky and came to rest
briefly before disappearing. He looked up to see the judge standing next to
him, his re-created car a little way behind. In a lifeless monotone, Black
asked, "You know what to do?"
"Yes,"
the judge replied lifelessly. "I know what I must do."
With that, he
got into his car and drove away.
"Well,
gentlemen," said Johanssen, "I think that's all I can do for the
moment. Obviously, I'll need to see the relevant Spectrum records in order to
check the veracity of your statements."
"I'm
afraid that's out of the question," said Colonel White gruffly.
"Security, you understand."
"Colonel
White," Johanssen sighed. "Tomorrow, you and Captain Blue will be
fighting for your very lives. I need some evidence for your defence. Judge
Kaufmann, is a very fair man, but he is going to need convincing that these
Mysterons are more than a figment of the imagination."
"Very
well," White grunted. "What sort of information do you require?"
"Oh I
don't know, really, some case notes perhaps. For example, the assassination of
the Director-General of the United Asian Republic.
"But
how-" Blue began in an astonished voice
"-are we
going to retrieve the records?" White continued firmly, cutting off Blue's
question with a barely perceptible shake of the head.
"Ah, I'm
sure we could fly to Cloudbase," Johanssen replied with a smile.
"Myself and one of you, that is. One of you will have to stay here as a
gesture of goodwill."
"A
hostage, in other words," said Blue sarcastically.
"Please,
Captain," replied Johanssen. "I am trying to help you. But in order
to do so, I need your help. One of you must fly to Cloudbase with me."
”Very well," White sighed. "I shall remain here. Captain Blue, you
will fly Mr Johanssen to Cloudbase. Give him any information he requires."
“With respect
Colonel-" began Blue.
“Captain
Blue," White rebuked him sharply. "We may both be under arrest. but
until we are both cashiered, I am still your commanding officer. You will give
Mr Johanssen every assistance.”
"S.I.G. sir," Blue replied
sheepishly.
“Would it not
be better if you came with me, Colonel? After all, you would know exactly what
evidence we could use."
"No, Mr
Johanssen, I have every confidence in Captain Blue. In any case, I would have
more hos - GUEST value."
Johanssen
looked as if he was about to argue, but then thought better of it. "Thank
you, Colonel." Johanssen smiled weakly, He went to the door and knocked on
it.
White gestured
to Blue and they both turned their backs on Johanssen.
"I knew
what you were going to say just now," murmured White. "That's why I
interrupted you," He nodded towards Johanssen who was deep in conversation
with the guard. “Keep an eye on him."
"S.I.G.
Colonel," replied Blue.
"Coming
Captain?" called Johanssen. Without another word, Blue followed him from
the room.
White gazed out
of the window. Far below him, through
the thick plate glass window, he could see the tiny figures of Blue and
Johanssen as they climbed into the Spectrum Passenger Jet.
Moments later,
It taxied onto the runway and then took off. Soon it had banked over the,
mountains surrounding the city and disappeared into a bank of cloud. He
turned away from the window, lost in thought. Why was Johanssen so set on going
to Cloudbase? How did he know about that particular case? Obviously, there was
more to Mr Johanssen than met the eye.
Twenty minutes
later he was disturbed by the sound of the door being unlocked. It was
pushed open by a security guard carrying a tray which he put down on the table
in the centre of the room.
"The
condemned man ate a hearty breakfast," thought Colonel White grimly.
"Oh!"
exclaimed the stranger at the door. "I was expecting to see two of
you."
"Who the
blazes are you?" White demanded as the stranger closed the door behind
him. There was an audible click as the guard locked it.
"Nielsen,
Alexander Nielsen," the stranger replied, putting down his briefcase and
offering his hand. "I have been appointed your Defence Counsel, but I was
told that there were two of you."
"What did you say?" White
asked him slowly.
"I said
that .I have been appointed as defence Counsellor, for you and Captain Blue,”
replied Nielsen 'Where is he?"
But White
hadn't heard him, his mind was racing. Vague ideas were coalescing into
horrifying certainties even as he thought about them.
”Mr Nielsen," I need you to get
me out of here," White said quickly.
”I'm afraid
that's out of the question, Colonel," Nielsen replied sympathetically.
"I was told that there was no chance of bail being granted in
your case."
"Mr
Nielsen," White said firmly, I need to contact Cloudbase urgently.
"I'm sorry
Colonel, but I was told that you were to be kept incommunicado until
tomorrow."
White reached
over and grabbed Nielsen by the lapels and shook him.
"Listen,"
he thundered, "if I don't warn them in time, everyone on Cloudbase is
going to die."
”Warn them of
what?" Nielsen asked still shaking from White's grip.
White told him.
"Strange,"
thought Blue to himself as he flew the Jet towards Cloudbase. "The old
boy's a bit quiet. I'd have thought he'd have been chattering like a monkey,
this being his first flight in a Spectrum jet. Ah well." He concentrated
on contacting Cloudbase.
Beside him, in
the co-pilot's seat, Johanssen sat motionless. No flicker of emotion crossed
his face. He just sat there, like a Waxwork.
"Captain
Blue to Cloudbase, Captain Blue to Cloudbase, Come in Cloudbase." With a
smile of relief, Lieutenant Green reached over and pressed a switch on the panel
in front of him.
"Go ahead,
Captain Blue," he acknowledged.
"We are
en-route to Cloudbase. Please confirm your location,” Blue's voice came over
the loudspeaker.
"We are
seven hundred miles south of Geneva," replied Green. "Travelling at low-safe cruising."
"S.I.G.,"
Acknowledged Blue.
"Is the
Colonel with you?" asked Captain Scarlet, who was standing just behind
Green.
"No,
Captain Scarlet," replied Blue. "He's still being held to ensure my
return. I have our defence lawyer with me. He's going to help us to collect
evidence."
"S.I.G.
Captain Blue." Scarlet signed off. "I'm going back down to the
archives," he informed Green. Something that Captain Grey had said had
struck a chord. The World President was being influenced, that he knew. But by
whom?
"Mr
President! Mr President." No reply. The guard began to tap on the door.
Perhaps the old boy had fallen asleep in his office.
No reply.
Worried, the guard knocked harder. Soon, he was hammering on the door.
Inside, the
World President was oblivious to it all.
The guard tried
the door. Locked.
In desperation,
he reached for his radio and called for reinforcements. Within minutes they had
arrived. "It's the President," the guard explained hurriedly. "I
think he's in trouble."
The Guard
Commander unholstered his gun, took careful aim and fired.
Ordering
"Cover me!" He kicked the door open and dived through the opening.
Rolling on his shoulder as he hit the floor, he came to rest behind a sofa.
Cautiously, he peered around the side. What he saw made him leap to his feet.
The President, slumped back in his seat, appeared lifeless.
"Get an
ambulance!" he yelled to the guards who had started to enter the room. He
went to the President and started to look for vital signs.
The Spectrum
Passenger Jet touched down gently on the flight deck and with a roar of reverse
thrust, came to a halt.
Captain Blue
shut down the engines and followed by the still silent Johanssen, disembarked.
"We'd
better go to the Control room first, Mr Johanssen," Blue informed him.
Still Johanssen said nothing. He still had the blank expression that Blue had
noticed before.
"Perhaps
he's ill," thought Blue to himself. "Perhaps I should get Doctor Fawn
to look at him." Turning away from Johanssen for a moment, he pulled down
his cap microphone. "Doctor Fawn, this is Captain Blue. Do you think you
could spare a few moments to look at Mr Johanssen. He looks a bit
off-colour."
"Certainly,
Captain," replied the doctor. "Bring him down to' Sickbay."
"S.I.G.
Now Mr Johanssen -" Blue's voice tailed off. Johanssen had vanished.
"Come on
man!" Colonel White growled impatiently to himself.
Nielsen had been away for half an hour already. White had managed to convince him of the urgency of his request. But Nielsen had yet to convince the Guards. Unaware of Captain Scarlet's actions, and their consequences, he consoled himself that Captain Blue would still take another thirty minutes to reach Cloudbase. So long. as Nielsen could get a message to Lieutenant Green within the next half hour, they could prevent a disaster.
He was Interrupted in his thoughts by the sound of the door being
unlocked. Nielsen rushed in, clearly agitated. He reached into his case for an
object and calling "Catch!", threw it across the room to White. To
White's surprise, it was his Spectrum cap.
He donned the cap and
pulled down the microphone.
“This is Colonel White to
Cloudbase," he began.
On Cloudbase, Lieutenant
Green's smile at hearing from the Colonel faded, when he heard his message.
Then it was his turn to convey bad news.
“He's what?" White
thundered in disbelief.
“That's right sir,"
Green's voice sounded apologetic. "Captain Blue landed ten minutes ago and
Johanssen's disappeared."
White was appalled. "You've
got to find him at all costs. Use every man we've got. White out," he said
signing off, his microphone swinging back up onto the peak of his cap.
"We're too late!"
he told Nielsen.
Lieutenant Green pressed a switch. His voice was relayed throughout
Cloudbase. "This is Lieutenant Green to all Spectrum Personnel. I have
just received a call from Colonel White. There is reason to believe that there
is a Mysteron agent aboard Cloudbase posing as Mr Johanssen, the lawyer. He
must be located Immediately, repeat Immediately!"
"How did you manage to get my cap?" asked Colonel White
gratefully.
"When I left
here," began Nielsen, "they took me up to the Guard Commanders
office. He wasn't there. They told me that he'd been called away to the
Presidential Palace on urgent business. In fact, they all seemed to be running
around like headless chickens." He noticed the plate that had been left
some time before. "Oh! you haven't eaten your breakfast."
"I'm not hungry," replied White.
"May I?" asked
Nielsen politely. "I missed out on breakfast this morning and it's a shame
to see all this going to waste."
"Please do,"
invited Colonel White. "But it'll probably be cold."
"Oh, I don't
mind," replied Nielsen airily. At that he picked up a sausage and bit into
it. "Mmm, It's good," he said rather indistinctly
"Can we return to the
story?" White asked patiently. "You mentioned that the guards were in
a state of confusion."
“Oh yes," said Nielsen finishing his mouthful. "There
was a rumour flying around, that the President was critically ill in
hospital."
"What's wrong with
him?" asked White.
"No‑one seemed
to know very much," replied Nielsen. "But the official line seemed to
be pressure of work.
“Mm, I see,” said White
pensively.
"Anyway," Nielsen
continued, picking up another sausage from the plate and biting into it.
"They put me in a room where Captain Blue's and your caps were being kept.
It was a simple matter to slip them into my case while no‑one was
looking. Unfortunately, your guns weren't there otherwise I'd have brought
those too."
"Well, I'm very
grateful for all you've done Mr Nielsen, You ran a great risk. I'm sure that if
anyone can get us acquitted, it'll be you –“
His voice tailed off. "Mr
Nielsen? Mr Nielsen, are you all right?"
But Nielsen could no longer
hear him. The half eaten morsel dropped from lifeless fingers. Eyes staring,
his body pitched forward and fell to the floor.
Captain Scarlet walked slowly down the corridor, alert for any clue.
Like everyone else on Cloudbase, he was combing every inch, looking for the
slightest thing out of place. Doctor Fawn's Laboratory - Nothing. No matter where he looked, he'd
come up with the same.
Johanssen just had to be
around somewhere.
He was just about to turn
the corner into corridor twelve when his epaulettes flashed blue and his cap
microphone swung down into position. "Go ahead Captain Blue," he said
into the microphone.
"Corridors fifteen to
twenty clear," reported Blue. "How are you getting on?"
"Nothing so far,"
replied Scarlet. "I'm just about to search corridor twelve though I ‑"
His voice tailed off as a wave of nausea swept over him. It could mean only one
thing ‑ the presence of a Mysteron.
Since he, himself, had once
been under the influence of the Mysterons, an experience he had no recollection
of, he had developed a sort of sixth sense, able to detect the presence of a
Mysteron. It was this sense that was warning him now.
He became aware that Blue
was calling him.
"I think I'm quite
close to him," he whispered into his microphone.
Indeed, Johanssen was, at
that moment, crouched behind one of the main power conduits leading to the
hover combines. If, for any reason they were ever shut down, Cloudbase would
plunge from the sky.
"S.I.G. Captain
Scarlet," replied Blue. "I'm on my way.”
Scarlet waited patiently
until Blue arrived. The feelings of nausea had passed now. He placed his ear to
the hatch, hoping to catch any sound that might betray Johanssen. Other than
the sound of the machinery inside, he could hear nothing.
Inside, Johanssen crouched,
silent and motionless. Like a waxwork. Blue arrived two minutes later, closely
followed by Captains Grey and Ochre.
“Is he in there?"
asked Blue breathlessly.
"I think so,"
replied Scarlet. "Though I can't hear anything."
"Well,” said Ochre,
"there's only one way to find out." With that, he pressed the door
release and hurriedly stood back.
The door slid quietly back.
There was no reaction.
Drawing his gun, Scarlet
led the way.
The setting sun shone
brightly through the porthole, casting brilliant reflections from some pieces
of equipment and throwing others into deep shadow. The gentle hum of machinery
filled the air.
"Johanssen,"
called Scarlet . "We know you're in here. Give yourself up now, before
it's too late."
“You're already too late
Earthman," called Johanssen. "Cloudbase is doomed." The voice
was clearly Johanssen's, but under the control of the Mysterons, had an added
note of arrogance in it.
"What do you
mean?" called Scarlet, a note of anxiety creeping into his voice. But
there was no reply.
Signalling the others to
stay back, Scarlet slowly made his way further into the room, alert for any
signs of trouble. Ducking behind some machinery, Scarlet crept slowly towards
the point from which Johanssen's voice had emanated.
"Johanssen,"
called Captain Blue. "We have you completely surrounded. Give yourself up
and let us help you."
Not a sound came from the
Mysteron.
By now, Scarlet had managed
to move round behind Johanssen's position. Cautiously, he peered from behind a
piece of machinery.
Quickly ducking back out of
sight, he pulled down his cap microphone and whispered into it: "Captain
Blue, Johanssen's sitting behind a power conduit."
"S. I. G,"
replied Blue faintly, I'll bring a Mysteron Gun."
Blue was referring to the
one weapon that could be certain of destroying a Mysteron.
In fact, it had been here
on Cloudbase, during the abortive attempt on General Tiempo's life, that it had
been discovered that high voltage electricity was capable of destroying a
Mysteron. It had been a relatively straightforward matter to devise a weapon
capable of harnessing this effect.
"No!" Scarlet
whispered fiercely. "The electron beam would probably damage the power
control circuits in the conduit."
"What are we going to
do then?" asked Blue anxiously.
"He doesn't appear to
be armed," replied Scarlet. 'I'm going to try to reason with him."
"Good Luck Captain
Scarlet." Blue signed off. With that, Scarlet's microphone swung back up
to the peak of his cap.
Drawing a deep breath, he
stood up, steeling himself against anything that might happen. "Mr
Johanssen," he said firmly. "You're beaten. Give yourself up now and
we can help you."
Johanssen sat motionless,
giving no sign that he'd heard Scarlet.
Scarlet moved closer.
"Mr Johanssen?" Still no reply.
Scarlet reached out and gently touched Johanssen and when there
was still no response, shook him. Scarlet hauled Johanssen to his feet.
By this time, had he been joined by Captain Blue.
"Well he seems harmless enough," he said to Scarlet. "I wonder
what he was going to do."
"I don't know,"
replied Scarlet. "Perhaps he was going to ‑" He suddenly noticed a wisp of smoke.
"It's a booby trap!" he yelled. "Get out of here, all of you!"
Indeed smoke was coming
from Johanssen's body and clothing in the same way it had just before Captain
Brown had exploded. That explosion had been capable of destroying the Maximum
Security Building. Scarlet had seen the videotape of those events and knew that
this blast would certainly destroy Cloudbase.
"What about you?"
called Blue from the doorway.
"Get out of
here!" yelled Scarlet. "There's only one way to save Cloudbase now,
and I'm the one to do it. See you later." With that, he drew his pistol and
took aim at the window.
Blue suddenly realised what
Scarlet intended and pressed the button to close and seal the hatch. As the
hatch slid home, Scarlet fired.
The sound of the breaking
glass was drowned by the roar of escaping air as the room depressurised,
blowing loose items of equipment out into the empty void outside. Scarlet and
Johanssen were dragged toward the window by the air pressure. Closer and closer
until finally Johanssen's body disappeared through the hole and began to fall
to earth. Scarlet scrabbled for a handhold to prevent himself from suffering
the same fate. He grabbed for a stanchion and was just able to grasp it.
Pulling himself upright, he could see out of the hole. The air pressure was
decreasing now and he could hold on without too much trouble. Johanssen's body
was already a tiny dot in the distance. A dot which at that moment exploded
into a huge fireball, the same way that Captain Brown had before him.
‘Strange,’ thought Scarlet
to himself, ‘It's not as cold as I would have expected. In fact it's quite
warm.’
Slowly he became aware of a
pink mist that seemed to appear from nowhere. Faint singing filled the air.
Captain Scarlet had been so
engrossed with the view that he had failed to notice how thin and cold the air
had become until it was too late. Gasping for breath, he lost consciousness and
toppled out of the window.
"How long was the
President unconscious before he was discovered? asked Jaeger, the Senior
Consultant examining the unconscious figure of the President.
"We don't know for
certain," replied the registrar.
“The Guard said that he'd looked in on the President some time before
and he'd been fine then."
"Hm, I see," said
Jaeger thoughtfully. He picked up a sheaf of clinical notes and studied them.
"Vital signs are still very weak, It's a good thing you put him onto life‑support.
I doubt that he'd have lasted this long without it."
“Do you think he'll live,
sir?" asked the registrar.
"It's too early to
say, as yet,” replied Jaeger. "I've never seen anything like it. It's
almost as if he's burnt out."
What do you think could
have caused it?" asked the registrar as they turned to leave. "Pressure of work perhaps?"
“I doubt it," replied
Jaeger, holding the door open for his younger colleague.
"I’ve seen exhaustion
before, but it's never been as bad as this. Perhaps you should ask him ‑
if he recovers." With that, he cast a final glance at his patient and then
closed the door.
The Security Guard snapped
to attention as the two Medical men left the room. "I shall be sending a
nurse in to lock after the President," Jaeger informed the guard.
"Yes sir," the
guard acknowledged, saluting smartly. With that, the two medical men strode
away down the corridor, leaving the guard to his solitary vigil.
Colonel White's hammering
on the door had brought muttered curses as the Guard unlocked the door. Curses
that died in his throat as his gaze fell upon Nielsen's body.
"Don't just stand
there, man," White had thundered at the guard, standing open mouthed at
the door. "Do something!"
The tone of Colonel White's
voice had shaken the guard from his shock. He fumbled for his radio and called
for medical assistance. Doctor Harvey had arrived five minutes later.
"He was dead before he
hit the floor, Colonel." The doctor looked rather uncomfortable as he made
his diagnosis.
"What was the cause of
death, doctor?" asked White, glad that the doctor had done the decent
thing and closed Nielsen's blankly staring eyes.
"I would say some kind
of systemic poison, Colonel," replied the doctor. "Though I'll have
to wait for the results of the post‑mortem examination to be certain. The
question we must now ask ourselves is: How did he come to be poisoned?"
"I would have thought
that that was obvious, doctor," White replied crossly. "He was eating
food from that plate."
Harvey wagged an admonitory
finger. "Tch, tch, one should never jump to conclusions, Colonel, it can
lead to all sorts of trouble. For example, take my sister ‑"
But White didn't hear him.
An appalling thought had just occurred to him. His own words echoed and
re-echoed in his mind. 'We was eating food from that plate, that plate...’ The very plate that had been intended for
Captain Blue and himself!
"Anyway," Harvey concluded. "I mustn't bore you
any longer with family anecdotes. I do have other patients to see to.
Hopefully," he chuckled, "a bit more lively than Mr Nielsen
there." With that, he picked up his hat and left, followed by the guard,
closing and locking the door, after him.
Colonel White fumed to
himself. It was bad enough his defence lawyer dying in front of his eyes,
having eaten food meant for his clients, without the doctor having to make a
joke of it.
On reflection, he mused,
perhaps he had been rather hard in his judgement of the doctor. Although he,
himself had had to come to terms with losing good men, even friends, to Death,
that most relentless of enemies, it must be particularly hard for those whose
training demanded that they battle to keep their patients alive no matter how
long the odds. The joviality was just the doctor's way of coming to terms with
it. He turned and gazed out of the window.
Dusk had fallen and the
city was alive with a myriad of twinkling lights. The snowy peaks of the
mountains glowed gently in the light of the moon, just beginning her nightly
voyage across the trackless ocean of the night sky. As the red and purple hues
of evening gave way to the velvet cloak of night, a red pin‑point caught
his eye. He shook his head sadly. "Mars, planet of War, and what a
war!" he murmured quietly to himself. Pensively, he continued to gaze at
the brilliant glow above him.
Suddenly, he noticed a
small green glow just beside it. 'Oh, it's just an aircraft,’ he thought to
himself. ‘Probably going to land in a minute or so.’ But as he watched, he realised that the lights were stationary.
Discounting helicopters and helijets, which wouldn't hover for so long without
moving, left just one possibility...
Relief mixed with anger,
White rummaged under a seat cushion, for his cap where he'd stuffed it when the
guard came in. Putting it on, he pulled down the microphone. "This is
Colonel White to Cloudbase," he snapped. "Report your exact
position."
Lieutenant Green was
surprised to hear from Colonel White and especially in such an abrupt
manner. "Cloudbase is
approximately ten miles from Geneva, Colonel," he replied.
"Just as I
thought," growled White. "Let me speak to Captain Scarlet."
"I'm afraid Captain
Scarlet is dead," replied Green.
"How did it
happen?" asked White.
Green told him everything
that Captain Blue had told him. When he had finished, White was satisfied that,
at least, Cloudbase was still operational;
the broken window and equipment, lost when the room depressurised, could
be replaced at leisure.
"Where's Captain Blue
now?" asked White.
"He and Destiny Angel
are searching the area for Captain Scarlet.”
The Spectrum Helicopter
settled gently onto the snow‑covered ground, the down‑draught from
its rotors kicking up a flurry of fresh snow. As the shimmering disc slowed
down, Captain Blue jumped from the cockpit.
"Tell Cloudbase that we've found him," he called to Destiny
Angel. He had to shout above the whine of the turbines.
"S.I.G.," She
called back, smiling with relief. She was glad that Captain Blue had picked her
to fly this mission.
Captain Blue shivered and
pulled his parka more tightly around him. His footsteps crunched in the freshly
fallen snow towards the huddled form of his friend. He'd known that the fall
from forty thousand feet would make a terrible mess of Captain Scarlet's body,
but his stomach still lurched when he turned the body over. It had been worse
than usual. Steeling himself against his feelings, he unzipped the body bag
that he'd brought with him and set to work.
Nearby, two pairs of eyes
witnessed the scene. They had just had time to get under cover before the
Spectrum Helicopter had swooped into the valley, its rotors slicing the silence
of the night and echoing from the mountain peaks.
They saw Captain Blue
finish his grisly task, pick up his burden and carry it to the waiting
Helicopter. Moments later, the Spectrum Helicopter lifted noisily into the air
and flew away. As the sound of rotors faded away, the two watchers stood up.
"You know what you
must do?" asked Captain Black, his voice a lifeless monotone.
"The Mysteron
Instructions will be carried out," replied the newly created Mysteron.
With that, the two figures
toiled up the snow‑laden slopes to where Black's car was waiting behind a
small outcrop of rock. They got in and drove away.
As the Spectrum Helicopter
sped towards the comforting bulk of Cloudbase, Captain Blue opened a radio
channel to Lieutenant Green.
"We have recovered
Captain Scarlet's body and are en route to Cloudbase," he reported. "E. T. A. twenty minutes."
"S.I.G.," acknowledged
Green. "Doctor Fawn is already standing by."
"S.I.G.," said
Blue, breaking the channel.
Destiny knew, on seeing
Blue's face as he climbed back into the helicopter, that Scarlet was in a bad
way.
“Captain Scarlet, he will
be all right?" Destiny had asked Blue.
Don't worry, Destiny,"
Blue had reassured her. "With a little help from Doctor Fawn, Captain
Scarlet will be back on his feet in no time."
That thought had served to
comfort Destiny during the flight.
Blue, too was lost in
thought. He wondered exactly how long Scarlet's injuries would take to heal. He
had the distinct feeling that the shorter the time that Captain Scarlet was out
of action, the better.
Had anyone been able to
look inside the engine compartment of the helicopter as it winged its way home,
they might just have noticed two pale circles of light come to rest on the
turbine casing before blinking out of existence. The effect was dramatic. A
turbine blade snapped off at the root
and smashed its way through the casing, severing fuel lines and electrical
circuits.
The first that the
occupants of the helicopter knew was the dull thud as the fuel exploded.
"Mon dieu!" Destiny
gasped. "I have lost
control!"
Indeed, the helicopter
began to plunge earthwards, a long ribbon of flame and smoke streaming out
behind.
As Destiny struggled with
the controls, Blue desperately tried to contact Cloudbase. "This is
Captain Blue to Cloudbase, come in Cloudbase." No reply. Obviously, the radio
had been damaged by the explosion.
Narrowly missing a mountain
crag by inches, the blazing helicopter plummeted, like a barely guided missile,
into a snow‑filled valley. Seconds from impact, Destiny gave a final,
desperate, pull on the controls. The nose of the helicopter began to rise as
the madly spinning blades bit into the air once more and began to provide lift.
But it was too little, too
late. With a splintering crash, that echoed through the airframe, the tail
clipped a tree top. The nose dipped again and the helicopter hit the ground,
the landing skids snapping like matchwood. The wreck slid along the ground on
its belly, ploughing a giant furrow in the snow and finally coming to rest in a
snow‑filled hollow.
Silence once more settled
upon the valley.
Captain Blue was the first
to regain consciousness. He offered a swift vote of thanks to the designers of
the safety harness that had saved him from injury in the crash. He undid the
harness and leaned over to check Destiny. She was still unconscious. There was
a nasty looking gash on her forehead but fortunately it had stopped bleeding.
Once more he tried the radio. Nothing.
Pulling down the
microphone, he tried his personal radio, built into his cap. Still no reply.
‘Perhaps the impact's damaged
it,’ he thought. ‘I'll have to go for help.’
Blue stood up and
immediately fell to the deck with a gasp as the searing pain from his ankle
lanced upward.
He sat up. To remove his
boot in order to examine his ankle would be foolish. Even if only sprained, it
would swell, preventing him from putting his boot back on. Walking barefoot in
the snow, he knew, would be extremely foolhardy.
Gingerly, he stood up,
using the back of his seat for support. Gently putting weight onto his foot, he
decided that his ankle was badly sprained, rather than broken. With a bit of
luck, his boot would help to support it. Limping painfully, he made his way
back to the rear of the cabin to examine Scarlet's body. Although he was not
yet breathing, the worst of the cuts and abrasions had healed. Blue had never
ceased to be amazed at his friend's recuperative powers.
Once more he zipped up the
bag and then slowly made his way to the exit.
A combination of the cold
and the impact had jammed the hatch. Try as he might, Blue could not budge it.
There was nothing for it, he decided, He would have to blow the hatch. Flipping
open a panel marked 'EMERGENCY HATCH RELEASE', he pulled the handle inside.
With a sharp crack, small
charges detonated, hurling the hatch free.
The concussion knocked an
already shaky Blue off his feet. His ears rang as his head hit the bulkhead
behind him. Gingerly, he put his hand to the back of his head and winced at the
new pain to be added to his collection. His fingers came away sticky with
blood. He grabbed his cap and feeling slightly sick and more than a little
dizzy, carefully got to his feet. He stumbled rather than climbed out of the
hatchway and fell into the snow, gasping as the icy air hit his lungs.
He sat up slowly, head
pounding like a steam hammer, He got up and stumbled over to where the blown
hatch lay. Laboriously, he dragged it back to the wreck and finally, after
several attempts, managed to place it over the hatchway. At least now, he
reasoned, Destiny would stay reasonably warm until he could bring back some
help.
Still panting from his
exertions, Blue looked around him at the valley floor. Apart from the wreckage
of the helicopter, there were no signs of life in the valley. He looked higher
up the hillside. Above him, he could see the lights of a building. Maybe he
could find help there. Full of hope, he began the long, painful walk.
"Captain Blue, come in
Captain Blue." Lieutenant Green was becoming worried. The helicopter was
twenty minutes late already and there had been no message from either Captain
Blue or Destiny Angel. Anxiously, he switched to the frequency allocated to the
Emergency Locator Beacon, fitted to all Spectrum vehicles. Not a whisper.
Obviously something was wrong. Quickly, he opened a channel to Colonel White.
Colonel White stood gazing
intently from the window. The flashing of his epaulettes, accompanied by a high
pitched bleeping and his cap microphone dropping down into position alerted him
that Lieutenant Green was calling him.
"Go ahead Lieutenant
Green," White replied into the microphone.
"Colonel," Green
said hurriedly. "I've lost contact with the helicopter bringing Captain
Scarlet's body back to Cloudbase."
"Slow down
Lieutenant," said White calmly.
"Tell me everything !hat's happened, slowly and carefully."
“Well sir,” Green's voice
was steadier now, "Captain Blue called in forty minutes ago to say that he
and Destiny had found Captain Scarlet's body and were bringing it back to
Cloudbase. Since then, there's been no word at all."
"What about the
Emergency Locator Beacon?" asked White
"I've already tried,
Colonel," Green replied. "There's no response at all."
"Launch Angels One,
Two and Three, Lieutenant," White ordered. "Tell them to search a
fifty mile radius around the area where Captain Blue was last in contact and
alert all Spectrum agents to look out for them. Keep me informed on their
progress."
"S.I.G., Sir,"
Green replied. He closed the channel and pressed another button. "Angel
One," he ordered. "Immediate Launch!"
Within seconds the lead
Angel's engine had reached full power, the deck clamps were released and with a
blast of steam, the sleek fighter was catapulted along the flight deck into the
air.
Lieutenant Green pressed
another button. Down in the Amber Room, The other three Angels heard his order.
"Angels Two and Three, Immediate Launch!"
Rhapsody and Symphony
dashed across to their seats, picking up their helmets as they ran. As soon as
they were seated, Hatches closed in front of them and their seats were quickly
lifted up into the remaining two Angel aircraft, still clamped to the flight
deck. as soon as the seats had locked in position, the clear injector tubes
retracted into the deck. Like Angel One before them, they throttled up to full
power before being launched along the deck and into the air.
Within seconds they had
climbed away from Cloudbase and joined Angel One.
Lieutenant Green's Voice
was faint but clear in the Angels' headsets: "This is Cloudbase to all
Angels. Proceed to designated search areas. Locate Spectrum helicopter
containing Captain Blue, Captain Scarlet and Destiny Angel."
"S.I.G.,"
acknowledged each girl in turn before banking and descending to begin the
search. Powerful radar, housed in the needle‑like prows of their aircraft
probed far ahead of them looking for the smallest sign of their friends. Even
so, it would still take hours to find one small helicopter in the mountainous
terrain beneath them.
Captain Blue was exhausted
by the time he reached the chalet. The walk had been longer and the hillside
steeper than he'd thought. The deep snow had made every step difficult. He was
light‑headed with concussion and the pain from his ankle.
The chalet was quite large,
of classic Swiss design, its snow-covered roof clamped tightly down. A
welcoming light glowed warmly over the front door and a gentle stream of smoke
issued from the chimney.
Captain Blue smiled to
himself as he approached the door. He'd be glad to sit down and warm himself by
the fire and then ask the occupants if he could call for an ambulance for
Destiny. Grasping the heavy iron knocker, Blue rapped on the door.
"Good evening,” began Blue. "My helicopter has crashed
in the valley and I wonder if I might..." His voice trailed off as he
recognised Grayson's face as the Senator opened the door.
Blue turned to run but his
foot slipped on a patch of ice. He yelped as his ankle gave way under him and
he crashed to the ground, groaning.
His cap lay disregarded
where it had fallen in a pool of shadow. Blue could only struggle weakly as
Grayson first removed his gun and then half dragged him inside. Leaving Blue on
the sofa, Grayson telephoned for the police.
Blue struggled to get up,
but the pain from his ankle was too great. He sank back on the sofa as Grayson
loomed over him.
"Well, my Spectrum
friend," he sneered It looks as if You will be standing trial after all.
He put his head back and laughed. The Plan could not possibly fail now.
For want of anything better
to do, Colonel White stood at the window, gazing at the outside world. The
airport traffic was much less now and would soon cease altogether as the
airport closed down for the night. Already, many of the smaller hangars were in
darkness. Soon the rest would follow.
An Intercontinental Airlines
Stratojet, the last few passengers having boarded, waited for the passenger
terminal walkways to retract before slowly taxiing out across the apron and
turning onto the end of the runway. This late at night, take off permission was
immediately granted and it began to roll along the runway, its brilliant take‑off
lights cutting a swathe through the darkness in front of it. Soon the
nosewheels lifted, followed by the main undercarriage and the huge bulk of the
aircraft was airborne. Soon it had disappeared from view.
Colonel White was hungry. He hadn't eaten since he'd left
Cloudbase, seemingly an eternity ago. On the table behind him a tray of food
lay untouched.
Even though the poisoned
meal, along with the unfortunate Nielsen's body, had been taken away for
examination, he had no intention of risking the same fate.
With a click, the door was
unlocked and pushed open. A squad of six armed guards entered followed by the
Guard Commander.
"Colonel White,"
he announced. "I am to take you under armed guard to the city Detention
Centre where you will be held pending Court Martial."
"I see," replied
White levelly.
“I'm sorry, sir," the
Commander added apologetically, but we do have our orders."
"I understand,
Sergeant," replied White.
"But are those really necessary?" he asked indicating the
handcuffs swinging from each guard's belt.
The sergeant considered for
a moment before shaking his head.
"No, I can see that you won't cause any trouble. Right then,"
he said, steering White gently by the arm. "Shall we go?"
With all the dignity he
could muster, Colonel White shook the sergeant's hand free.
"I am quite capable of
making my own way, thank you," White rebuked him crossly.
"Sorry sir,"
apologised the sergeant. He was about to lead the way when he noticed White's
cap. "I'm sorry sir, I must ask you to give me your cap," he said.
White fumed and finally
handed it over.
“Thank you sir,"
smiled the sergeant, leading the way.
White fumed and then,
followed by the guards, left the room.
The Police arrived within minutes and formally charged
a still muzzy Captain Blue with treason. After a police Surgeon had cleaned and
dressed the worst of his cuts, he was bundled unceremoniously into a police van
and driven away.
Grayson approached the police officer in charge.
"Thank you for handling this matter so efficiently," he said. "I
take it you have men out searching for his accomplices?"
"Don't worry sir," the officer reassured
him. "We've got a helijet out looking for them right now."
Indeed, at that moment, the crew of the police helijet
had spotted the wreckage of the Spectrum helicopter. Whilst the observer
relayed its position to headquarters, the pilot brought the helijet in to land
beside the wreck. The powdery snow erupted upwards under the blast from the
vertical jets and the helijet was momentarily enveloped in a white cloud. As
the pilot set the engines to idle, the observer leaped out and ran across to
the wreck. He clambered inside and checked the occupants. The girl, he decided,
would be OK, but the Spectrum captain would never be O.K. again. He was cold to
the touch and there was no sigh of heartbeat. He heard a sound from the cockpit
and went to investigate.
Destiny Angel opened her eyes to find a police officer
looking down at her. "It's O.K. miss," he reassured her. "You're
safe now."
"Where is Captain Blue?" she asked
hesitantly, fearing the worst.
"He's being taken care of, miss," the
officer reassured her. "He went to
get help."
He opened the first aid kit he was carrying and
started to dress the wound.
"You're lucky," he informed her. "It
was only a flesh wound." He finished applying the dressing and closed the
case.
"Merci," Destiny thanked him with a smile.
The smile soon disappeared when she saw his face.
"I'm sorry, miss, but I have to arrest you for
being a member of a proscribed organisation. You are not obliged to say
anything," he cautioned her, “But anything you do say will be recorded and may be given in
evidence."
Destiny was too shocked to
reply. Silently, she let herself be led to the waiting helijet where she waited
whilst Scarlet's body was collected and loaded aboard.
Mission complete, the
Helijet lifted gently into the air and set course for Geneva, leaving the wreck
of the helicopter like a discarded toy in the snow.
Doctor Harvey was not a
happy man. In all the years of his career, he'd never seen anything like it.
When the body of the luckless Nielsen had been brought in for post mortem, he'd
thought that the cause of death would be easy to find. That had been six hours
ago, just before the doctor had been due to go home. Really, he should have
left it until the morning, but he'd been so sure that he'd be able to have the
answer within, at most, half an hour, that he'd started work. Since then, he'd
carried out every test in the book and each one had been negative.
He pressed a key on his
computer and a picture of the molecule that he'd been able to isolate from
Nielsen's blood flashed onto the screen. It matched no known toxin on the
toxicological databank.
Once again, he pressed the
key that asked the computer to analyse the origins of the toxin. Once again he
read the slip of paper that the computer had produced:
TEST
SAMPLE 43/69/02: |
|
CONSTITUENT
ELEMENTS: |
CARBON HYDROGEN OXYGEN NITROGEN CHLORINE OTHER ELEMENTS UNIDENTIFED. |
IDENTIFICATION: |
NEGATIVE. |
BIOLOGICAL MECHANIM: |
UNKNOWN. |
SOURCE: |
FOOD SAMPLE PROVIDED. |
PROBABLE SOURCE OF CONTAMINATION: |
UNKNOWN |
Harvey sighed. This would mean more work, writing this
lot up for the medical journals. He looked at his watch. Eleven fifteen. He was
tempted to leave it until the morning, then thought better of it. He was so
late now that another half hour wasn't going to make much difference. The
dinner party he was supposed to have gone to would have finished by now. Sadly
he set to work.
The Report, strangely enough, caused him less trouble
than the post mortem. Basically, he just had to sort the results into a coherent
form, write up some background notes and a covering letter to the editor. He
waited for the last sheet to come out of the printer, signed it with a flourish
and stood up. That was finally it, he told himself, he was definitely going
home this time. He took off his lab coat just as the door was pushed open by a
hospital porter, whistling to himself and wheeling in a large trolley. On the
trolley was a blanket‑shrouded form.
"Another customer for yer," the porter said
cheerily. "Helicopter crash. Where d'you want it?"
Harvey sighed wearily. "Put it on the slab
please," indicating the one next to the slab on which Nielsen's body
lay. "I'll deal with it in the
morning." He looked at his watch again. Eleven forty‑five. It very
nearly WAS morning.
"Right y'are then," the porter replied
lifting the body onto the slab. "Right then," he said. "I'll see
you in the morning." With that, he wheeled 'his trolley out of the door.
His tuneless whistling echoed down the empty corridor.
Harvey sighed to himself. Where on earth did they get
porters from these days? Shaking his head sadly, he strolled over to the slab
on which the blanket covered form lay. He lifted the shroud from the corpse's
face. Strange, for someone who'd been killed in a helicopter crash, his face was
remarkably unmarked. "Ah well", he thought to himself. "It'll
keep until morning." With that, he let the shroud fall back over the
corpse's head, picked up his coat and hat from the coat hook behind the door
and left, wondering what excuse he could give his wife THIS time.
Angel Two banked gently round and commenced another
sweep. For what must have been hours, the aircraft criss‑crossed the
search area. Ultra‑sensitive instruments, mounted in the nosecone of each
aircraft, probed for the smallest clue as to the position of the missing
helicopter. Rhapsody Angel pulled back slightly on her control column.
Obediently, her aircraft rose over an approaching ridge. Once clear of the
obstacle, she pushed gently forward and the aircraft swept down into a snow filled
valley. Rhapsody yawned. It had been a long night At that moment, her radar
contacted something small and metallic on the valley floor. As she got closer
she was finally able to identify the object. She turned for a second look.
There was no doubt about it.
Triumphantly , all feelings of tiredness gone, she called
Cloudbase:
"Angel Two to Cloudbase. Have located Spectrum helicopter.
Position International Fix System Two Zero Two Four."
"S.I.G.,"
Lieutenant Green acknowledged cheerfully. He pressed a switch, opening a
channel to all the Angels. "All Angels,
return to Cloudbase.” He waited
to receive an acknowledgement from each girl in turn before opening a channel
to Captains Grey and Ochre, waiting patiently in another Spectrum helicopter
down on the flight deck
"This is Control to
Captain Grey. Spectrum helicopter located at I.F.S. Two Zero Two Four."
"S.I.G.,"
acknowledged Grey, starting the helicopter's engines.
Soon the Helicopter had
lifted off from Cloudbase and set course on its errand of mercy.
Within minutes, flying at
maximum speed, the three Angel aircraft swooped out of the darkness. One by
one, they approached the flight deck and prepared to land, decelerating by
means of retro rockets and adopting a nose‑high attitude. Whilst this happened,
‑.he launch deck rose gently on hydraulic rams to meet the incoming
aircraft. As soon as each aircraft made contact, clamps engaged, locking it to
the deck which then gently descended once more. With in a minute, Rhapsody and
Symphony were once more in the Amber Room below.
Harmony, as lead Angel once
more waited in her aircraft.
A shaft of moonlight streamed through the window of
the dark, deserted mortuary and fell upon the shrouded figure on the slab, illuminating
it in a ghostly white light. The ghost analogy was even more apt as the figure
sat bolt upright. The shroud fell away from Captain Scarlet's face and he
looked around him.
"Obviously not Cloudbase," he mused. "I wonder
where I am." He shivered and realised he was naked under the shroud.
Pulling it tighter for warmth, he looked around him. On the coat hook behind
the door, he saw Harvey's Lab Coat. ‘Better than nothing, I suppose,’ thought
Scarlet to himself, trying it on. The result was a far from perfect fit,
Scarlet was at least six inches taller than the doctor, but at least he
wouldn't be quite so conspicuous but his bare feet might arouse some comment.
Fortunately, there were some overshoes, also behind the door.
The corridor outside, though brightly illuminated was
deserted, as Scarlet found when he cautiously peered outside. Then he noticed a
sign on the door opposite: PATHOLOGY LABORATORY. So, he was in hospital, though
how he came to be there instead of Cloudbase Sickbay was still a mystery.
Picking a direction more‑or‑less at random, he walked cautiously up
the corridor. As luck would have it, the first door he came across bore the
legend: MALE LOCKERS.
Perhaps he'd be able to find some clothes in there.
Gently, he pushed the door open and peered inside. The room was in darkness. He
entered and closed the door behind him. Finding the light switch, he turned it on and started to rummage through
the lockers. Of his own uniform, there was no sign, but he managed to find a
passable suit and shoes. He looked at the now discarded Lab coat. It would make
a pretty good disguise in a hospital. Someone walking the corridors this late
at night was bound to be questioned by an inquisitive nurse. But not, he
reasoned, if that person were, or at least appeared to be, a doctor. The coat
he'd 'borrowed' was far too small.
He'd just have to find another. Another few minutes of
looking through the lockers turned up a lab coat of the right size. Scarlet put
it on and stepped out into the corridor.
The Spectrum Helicopter settled gently beside the
wreckage pinpointed by Rhapsody Angel. Captain Ochre winced when he saw the
gaping hole punched out by the explosion.
Captain Grey had already seen it and pulled down his
cap microphone.
"Captain, Grey to Cloudbase," he began,
"we have located Spectrum Helicopter. It looks as if they were forced down
by engine failure. No signs of life, so far. Will call again when we have
investigated further."
"S.I.G.," acknowledged Lieutenant Green.
Captain Ochre shut down the engines and followed by
Captain Grey, disembarked from the helicopter. Carefully, they made their way
towards the wreckage.
The moon was just dipping below the mountain peaks now
and the two Spectrum officers had to use torches to examine the hulk.
"What do you think?" Grey asked Ochre, the
more aviation minded of the two.
"It looks like turbine failure,” replied Ochre.
"Destiny did a good job getting it down in one piece."
Presently they came to the hatch. From the slight
buckling of the edges and the scorch marks on the paintwork, they could tell
that the hatch had been blown free then, for whatever reason, placed back over
the hole.
"At least one of them got out O.K.,"
commented Ochre stepping inside, leaving Grey waiting outside. Ochre came back
out almost immediately. "They've gone," he informed Grey.
'What about Captain Scarlet's body?" asked Grey.
"That's
gone too," replied Ochre, climbing out. As he did so, the beam of his
torch fell on a footprint in the snow, the first of a long trail, leading away
up the hillside.
Captain Grey opened a channel to Cloudbase. "The
helicopter's deserted, but we've found some tracks leading away from it. We'll
follow them and see if we can find the others. They were probably rescued by
someone who saw them come down."
Up in the Cloudbase Control Room, Lieutenant Green
acknowledged the call. "Good luck," he added before signing off.
Technically, it was against Spectrum communications regulations, but Green had
the feeling that his colleagues would need all the luck they could get.
The cell was small, windowless and furnished with only
the bare minimum, a two tier bunk, a table and a couple of chairs. A door led into the small room, more of an
alcove, in which the W. C., wash basin and shower cubicle were to be found. The
only light came from a bare bulb, protected by armoured glass, recessed into
the ceiling.
Colonel White looked at his watch. Three fifteen. He'd
been in the cell, beneath the main Hall of Justice for more than three
hours. Food had been brought, of
course, but he still did not dare touch it. His guards had been as good as
their word, they hadn't bound him, but he knew that it would be foolish to try
and escape. He'd just have to put up with whatever his captors did to him until
he could think of a way out of this mess.
Wearily, he
eased himself onto the lower bunk. The springs in the mattress groaned slightly
under his weight as he lay back and closed his eyes. He was just drifting off
into sleep when he was disturbed by the sound of the cell door being unlocked.
Quickly he sat upright, all ideas of sleep forgotten. The door creaked open and
in marched a prison Warder. "Got some company for you,” he informed White
with a grin. He looked back over his shoulder. "0. K. lads, you can wheel
'em in," he called. Two police officers, one supporting Captain Blue as he
hobbled in, the other escorting Destiny Angel, entered the cell.
"Captain Blue! Destiny Angel!" White
exclaimed as he noticed the cuts and bruises each was suffering. "What
happened?"
“We'll be fine, Colonel," replied Blue. "Our
Helicopter crashed."
The police officer supporting Blue helped him onto one
of the chairs, Destiny took the other. The police officers and Prison Warder
left, closing and locking the door behind them.
"Crashed? What do you mean, crashed?" White
asked in surprise.
"I do not
know, Colonel," Destiny replied. "One moment, we were flying back to
Cloudbase with Captain Scarlet's body all, the next there was an explosion and
I could not control the helicopter."
"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" White's voice carried a
note of urgency that Destiny had never heard before. She pulled her hand back,
as if stung, from the plate of food that she'd been about to sample.
"There is every reason to believe that the food
we have been given has been poisoned," White explained. "A poison so
deadly that it kills within seconds."
"How can you be so sure, Colonel?" asked
Captain Blue.
"Some time after you left with Mr
Johanssen," began White. "I had a visit from a man called Nielsen,
who informed me that he was to be Defence Counsel for you and myself. That and
the fact that Mr Johanssen had let slip about the Director‑General of the
United Asian Republic, a case that had never been released to the media, suggested to me that our Mr Johanssen was in
fact a Mysteron Booby Trap, with the aim of destroying Cloudbase."
"Your message only
just reached us in time, Colonel," Blue replied.
"But what about the
food?" asked Destiny.
“Unfortunately for Mr.
Nielsen, he had missed breakfast so he helped himself to the food that was
intended for us. His body is now awaiting post mortem.”
"Mon Dieu!"
Destiny gasped, putting her hand to he mouth.
Silence descended on the
three. The same appalling thought struck them. Someone was trying to kill them.
But who? And why?
The problem with hospitals,
Captain Scarlet decided, was that there weren't enough corridor plans.
"Maybe the designers of this place ought to try and find their way
out," he said to himself. So far, there had been no signs of life, not
even a porter he could ask for directions. As he approached a door, he could
hear voices. Perhaps it was a staff room or something. He knocked on the door.
No reply. He knocked again. Still no reply, though the voices were definitely
coming from the other side of the door.
He tried the door. It
opened revealing a darkened room, the only illumination being from a television
screen in the corner. Scarlet found the light switch and pressed it. Revealed
by the light was an assortment of easy chairs and low tables with magazines and
newspapers strewn carelessly across their tops. A set of French windows,
presently curtained, led out into what would be a small garden. This was
obviously a day room, probably for some of the patients.
A brief burst of music
attracted Scarlet's attention back to the television.
“Good morning," the
Newsreader began. “Here is the three o'clock news. Concern is growing over the
health of the World President. He was found by one of his security guards and
rushed to Geneva General Hospital, where he was placed on life support. We can
now take you over live to the hospital for an up‑to‑the‑minute
report."
The scene changed to an
outside view of the Hospital, bathed in the glow from spotlights set into the
lawn around it. The Reporter was standing next to one of the presidential
security guards, who was looking rather nervous in the glare of world
publicity.
"An informed source,
close to the Government," the reporter began, "stated that the
President is now off of the danger list, but his condition remains
poorly."
"I have with me
Sergeant Frank Harker, one of the Presidential guards. Now Sergeant," the
reporter said, turning to Harker. "Will you tell us, in your own words,
exactly what happened?"
Nurse Daniels’ instructions
had been very clear on one point in particular, on no account was she to
administer any treatment to the patient without a doctor present. Since Jaeger
had left those instructions, some two hours had elapsed and it was time for the
patient to receive another injection. Of Jaeger there had been no sign. With a
sigh, Nurse Daniels had decided that, under the circumstances, ANY doctor would
do so she'd set out to lock for one.
As she left the patient's
room, the guard, waiting outside snapped to attention.
"I'm going to fetch a doctor
so that we can administer treatment to the President," she informed him.
"Very good,
miss," The guard acknowledged. She shuddered at the sight of his rifle
then walked away down the corridor.
"Thank you very much,
sergeant." The reporter continued, turning back to face the camera.
"I'll now hand you back to the studio."
"Thank you," the
Newsreader acknowledged. "Earlier this evening, we were able to interview
Senator Charles Grayson, front runner in the Presidential election campaign."
The scene shifted to a
plush office. Grayson was sitting at ease in his high‑backed leather
upholstered chair. "It was good of you to see us, Senator," the
interviewer began. "I'm aware that you are a very busy man."
"Yes, indeed,"
Grayson replied. "Particularly now that the World Security council has put
me in charge of bringing those Spectrum traitors to justice."
Scarlet sighed and shook
his head sadly. Grayson could never resist an opportunity to smear Spectrum.
Nurse Daniels was getting
agitated, she could not seem to find a doctor anywhere. AS she approached a day
room, she saw that the light was on. Putting her head round the door, she saw a
white coat. She didn't care who it was, they would do.
Captain Scarlet's thoughts
were interrupted when he heard a woman's voice behind him. "Excuse me
Doctor..."
The interview with Grayson
came to an end and the Newsreader
carried on with the next story.
"Earlier
this evening, two members of the banned paramilitary organisation, Spectrum,
were arrested after an abortive attempt to assassinate Senator Charles Grayson,
who has been an outspoken critic of the Organisation. The Senator, who was not
at home at the time of the attack, is said to have been shocked by the audacity
of the attack. It is thought that the assault failed when the helicopter,
carrying the Spectrum terrorists, crashed in a valley close to Grayson's
cottage, killing one and injuring the other two."
Scarlet,
however, was unable to see any of this. He was being led, down a corridor, by a
desperate nurse Daniels. For all her youth and lack of size, she was a force to
be reckoned with. "Now look, nurse..."
Scarlet
protested to no avail. He stopped himself. To blow his cover now could be
dangerous. This nurse could bring security troops down around his ears.
"Now
look, nothing!" she snapped back, dragging him by the wrist. The President
needs his treatment and I'm going to make sure he gets it!"
The
cottage was in darkness when Captains Grey and Ochre reached it. They had
followed the footsteps from the crash site and been led here.
"It
looks deserted," Grey observed.
"I'm
going to look around the back," said Ochre.
“S.I.G.,"
replied Grey. "Be careful!" he added as an afterthought.
"Yeah,
don't worry," replied Ochre with a smile.
Carefully,
he picked his way around the side of the cottage. All the windows were closed
and in darkness. Finally, Ochre reached the back garden. It was much darker now
that the moon had set and he found it necessary to use his torch, Suddenly he
froze. A pair of golden eyes were staring at him. Obviously some kind of guard
dog, perhaps a Doberman or Rottweiler. Very slowly, he drew his pistol and
prepared to fire.
"Good
boy," he called to the creature. He blinked and the golden eyes
disappeared, to be replaced by a pale blur running towards him. his finger
tightened on the trigger then relaxed as the furry form purred and rubbed
itself around his legs, A cat!
Ochre
realised that he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a rush. He put his
gun away and bent down to pick the animal up. It appeared to be a pedigree
Persian, little more than a kitten. It purred contentedly as he tickled it
gently under the chin.
The
cat leapt from his hands, startled by the high pitched tone and the flashing of
his epaulettes as his cap microphone dropped into position. "Go ahead
Captain Grey," Ochre acknowledged. The cat had decided to show off a
little. It walked slowly away then lay down and rolled over onto his back,
front paws drawn up to his chin, back legs splayed apart. It looked appealingly
at Ochre.
"Are
you O.K.?" Grey asked. "I was expecting you back by now."
"Er
Yeah, I had a close encounter with a cat," Ochre replied
"A
cat?" There was a note of disbelief in Grey's voice. "Yeah, a cat.
Big fluffy Persian. A pedigree one by the looks of it," replied Ochre.
"Still no signs of life," he continued. "I guess we’ll have
to..."
The
cat had decided that it was cold. It got up, strolled over to the patch of
ground under the kitchen window, gathered itself, then sprang for the window
that had conveniently been left open for it.
Captain
Ochre became aware that Grey was calling him.
“Sorry
about that," he apologised. "The cat's just shown Me the way in. Give
me two minutes. I'll let you in through the front."
"S.I.G.,"
replied Grey.
Gingerly,
Captain Ochre opened the window further and climbed in. By torchlight, he
picked his way through to the front of the house, the cat trailing happily at
his heels. Ochre opened the front door to admit Captain Grey.
Grey entered but left the door on the latch, in
case a hurried exit was required.
"What
are we looking for?" asked Ochre as they began to search.
"We know that at least Captain Blue or
Destiny managed to make their way here," replied Grey. "We have to try and find out what
happened to them."
The
inside of the house was immaculate. "In fact", thought Captain Grey,
"It's more like a museum exhibit." Indeed, although there was a well
kept larder, there were no signs that anyone ever used the contents. There were
no empty food containers in any of the bins and the waste‑paper basket
was also empty. In fact, the only apparent inhabitant of the cottage was the
cat, presently busy grooming himself.
Eventually,
the two Spectrum Officers found themselves back, once more, in the lounge.
There had been no evidence whatsoever that their colleagues had visited this
place.
"Hey,
what's this?" Grey asked, as he picked up one of the photographs from the
lid of the piano. By chance, it happened to be the photograph, taken a few weeks
before, of the skiing party.
"Do
you recognise him?" he asked as Ochre looked at the portrait. Ochre
nodded. "At least we now know who this place belongs to. But who are the
others?"
Although
wrapped up warm against the snow, the father figure in the photograph was
Senator Charles Grayson.
The
sound of an approaching car made further investigation impossible. The two
officers ran from the house, slamming the door behind them. It would be
dangerous to be discovered in the Senator's private cottage.
As
Grey sprinted for the cover of some shrubs, his foot slipped on a patch of ice
and he fell sprawling. As he hit the ground, he noticed a scrap of blue.
Without thinking, he grabbed for the object and dived the last few feet into
the bushes, landing on Captain Ochre. The car sped into the drive, the beams
from its headlights sweeping over the area so recently occupied by Captain
Grey. The car came to a halt, its, lights were doused and silence returned as
the sole occupant switched off the engine.
From
behind the bush, Grey and Ochre watched as the driver got out of the car and
let himself into the cottage.
"Phew,
that was close," panted Captain Ochre.
“Yeah,
too close," replied Captain Grey, reaching inside his tunic for the bundle
that he'd picked up and stuffed there.
"So,
Captain Blue was here," said Ochre, looking at Blue's cap that Grey held
in his hands.
"Yeah,"
agreed Grey. "If Grayson was here when Captain Blue arrived, he'd have had
him arrested. Captain Blue has walked straight into a trap."
"Let's
get back to the helicopter," suggested Ochre.
"Good
idea," agreed Grey.
On
Cloudbase, a light flashed on Lieutenant Green's console.
"Go
ahead Captain Grey," he acknowledged.
"We
have followed the footprints to a cottage owned by Senator Grayson," Captain
Grey began. "There were no signs of life, but Captain Blue was there, we
found his cap.
"I
can confirm that," replied Green. "Spectrum agents report that
Captain Blue and Destiny Angel have been arrested and taken to the main Hall of
Justice in Geneva. They are being held on charges of attempted murder, brought
by Senator Grayson himself."
"That
figures," muttered Grey. "That guy's out to try and crucify us."
A
thought had been nagging at Captain Ochre.
"We
saw a photograph in the cottage of Grayson with a young woman, aged about
thirty and a couple of children,” he said into his own microphone. "Do
records have any family details on him?"
"Hold
on," Green replied. He accessed the relevant computer. Within a fraction
of a second, it had scanned through its memory. The printout was brief:
INFORMATION NOT AVAILABLE ‑ CONSULT WORLD
GOVERNMENT DATABASE, GENEVA
"I'm sorry,"
Green apologised as he passed the information to his colleagues. "I'll
pass on any more information that becomes available."
"S.I.G.," Grey
and Ochre acknowledged before closing the channel.
Captain Grey was puzzled by
Ochre's request for information.
"Why the interest in
Grayson's family life?" he asked as they began to trudge down the hillside
towards the helicopter.
"We searched that
house from top to bottom, right?" began Ochre.
"Right," agreed
Grey.
"That was quite
definitely a family home."
"So?"
"So where were the
family?" asked Ochre.
"Away for the weekend,
perhaps?" suggested Grey.
"The place was too
neat, too tidy for a family, no matter how tidy, especially one with children.
That place was like a museum. You know, where they show what life was like
years ago, only there's none of the mess that you'd find in a real home."
"I thought that,"
agreed Grey. "But I'm still not sure what you're getting at."
"Neither am I,” sighed
Ochre. "I thought that the information might help. Perhaps we ought to go
to Geneva.”
“I agree," replied
Grey. "But not in this," he indicated as they boarded the helicopter.
"it's far too conspicuous and vulnerable to anti-aircraft missiles. We'll
requisition an S.P.V."
"I'd hardly call and
S.P.V. inconspicuous," pointed out Captain Ochre, starting the
helicopter's engines.
“I know," replied
Grey. "But it's a good deal tougher."
Indeed, the Spectrum
Pursuit Vehicle was capable of taking just about any punishment thrown at it
and if necessary, dishing it out by means of a high‑powered cannon,
normally concealed within the front part of the vehicle.
Captain Ochre could see the
logic in this. With a deft touch on the controls, the helicopter rose gently
from the ground and set course, away from the fights of Geneva, towards the
hiding place of the nearest S.P.V., a filling station near the mouth of the
Trans‑Alpine tunnel.
Duvall, the owner of the
station, a small, balding man in his fifties was glad to see. them. Since the
closure of the tunnel, through traffic and hence business, had been minimal.
Captain Grey wasted no
time. "Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle Three Two Four, please," he
requested.
"Identification
please, m'sieu," Duvall was taking no chances.
Captain Grey showed him his
pass.
"Merci," said
Duvall, pressing a concealed switch under the cash register. With a smooth
whine of machinery, the building containing the car wash slid backwards,
revealing a large rectangular hole in the concrete hardstanding. A concealed
lift whirred into action bringing the silvery‑blue bulk of the S.P.V. up
from its underground garage.
Captain Grey had one more
request of Duvall.
"Do you have any paint
spraying equipment?" he asked him.
"Yes M'sieu, it is
kept in the paint shop."
"What's the
idea?" asked Captain Ochre, puzzled by the strange request.
"Those," replied
Grey, indicating the Spectrum Badges emblazoned on each side of the S.P.V.,
"are a dead giveaway. I'm going to spray them out, to make us slightly
less conspicuous. With luck, anyone seeing us will think that the S.P.V. has
been captured by the Army."
The job took about ten
minutes in all. Because the large bulk of the S.P.V. prevented it from entering
the paint shop, the spraying had to be carried out outside, by torchlight. Not
a brilliant job, Grey would have been the first to admit, but it would do.
Fortunately, Duvall had carried
out some minor maintenance on the S.P.V. a week or so before, so he still had
some paint left over. In addition, he had also been able to furnish the World
Army insignia which now replaced the Spectrum Badges.
"It's amazing what can
fall of the back of a half‑track," he said, by way of explanation.
"Good luck
M'sieu," Duvall called after them as the S.P.V. rolled across the garage
forecourt, its headlights brilliantly illuminating the road in front of it. It
turned onto the main road towards Geneva. Duvall waited until the tail lamps of
the S.P.V. had disappeared from view before making his way back to his office
to report.
"Spectrum Agent Two
Two Seven to Cloudbase", he dictated into a hidden microphone on his desk.
"Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle Three Two Four requisitioned by Captains Grey
and Ochre at 0345 hours."
Once under way, Captain
Grey reported to Cloudbase. "Captain Grey to Cloudbase," he began.
"Captain Ochre and I have requisitioned S.P.V. and are en‑route to
Geneva."
"S.I.G.," came
the acknowledgement from Lieutenant Green.
A few minutes later, the
S.P.V. reached a fork in the road. Through their T. V. monitors, by means of
which they saw the road ahead, whilst sitting backwards in the S.P.V., the two
Spectrum Officers could see the road sign just before the fork.
The road to the left led to
Geneva, via the mountains. The other arrow on the sign, pointing to the right‑hand
fork, again indicated Geneva, this time via the Trans‑ Alpine Tunnel, a
much shorter route. This road, however had a large TUNNEL CLOSED sign blocking
it.
“Well," said Captain
Ochre. "It looks as if we'll have to take the Mountain route."
"Oh no we won't,”
replied Grey. "Hold on."
With that, he gunned the
engine of the S.P.V. which surged forward. The sign never stood a chance. With
a splintering crash, the S.P.V. hit it dead on, shattering it and sending
slivers of wood flying in all directions. The S. P. V sped on as if nothing had
happened.
As they approached the
tunnel, they both noticed something strange about it.
"Strange," said
Captain Ochre," I thought these tunnels were illuminated."
"They were,"
agreed Grey. "But since they were closed, there was obviously no need to
keep the lights on.”
The brilliant beams from
its lights lancing through the sable blackness within the tunnel, the S.P.V.
sped towards Geneva.
Nurse Daniels busied about
her tasks, a bemused Captain Scarlet watching her. Since he had little idea
about what she was doing, he agreed with any suggestions she made.
Scarlet picked up the
consultant's notes and read through them. A tot of the notes went straight over
his head. "I need Doctor Fawn to make sense of this lot," he thought
to himself.
One thing that was clear,
though, was that the World President was now off of the danger list, his comatose
state had reverted to normal unconsciousness.
He gazed at the sleeping
form of the President. The face that had looked so tense and drawn on the video
screens had relaxed and looked years younger.
Scarlet's train of thought
was interrupted by a muttered curse from the nurse. "I'm sorry nurse, you
were saying?" said Scarlet hurriedly.
"This vial is
empty," she replied. "I distinctly asked for a new one. I'll have to
get a new one from the Dispensary." With that, she left.
As the door closed, a sound
came from the bed. The President stirred slowly. Scarlet moved over to his
bedside.
As the President regained
consciousness, he became aware of a face hovering above him. NO! not THAT face.
He opened his mouth to scream in fear and loathing, then let his breath out
slowly. His vision had cleared and THAT face had faded to be replaced by that
of a stranger. Yet, in a strange way, he felt as if he knew the face from
somewhere. His memory was vague and cloudy and eluded him, yet he knew that
this was the face of a friend.
He became aware that the
face was speaking to him.
"Mr President, Mr
President." Scarlet's voice echoed and re‑echoed inside his head.
"Can you hear me?"
The President opened his mouth to reply, but no sound would come.
With an effort, he managed to nod. His dry tongue scraped over parched lips.
Scarlet suddenly realised the reason for the President's muteness. He was
thirsty. Hurriedly, looked around the room. There was a small jug of water end
a glass on the locker beside the President's bed. Hurriedly, he filled the
glass and then gently tilted it to the President's lips.
"Easy, sir,
easy," Scarlet advised him as he gulped down the liquid. "More?"
Scarlet asked as the last few drops drained from the glass.
At a nod from the President,
Scarlet refilled the glass and again put it to his lips. Scarlet took the empty
glass away and placed it carefully on the locker before helping the President
to sit upright.
"Th‑thank
you," said the President weakly. He looked slowly about him. "Where
am I?” he asked weakly.
"You're in
hospital," Scarlet informed him. "One of your bodyguards found you
unconscious in your office. Do you remember anything before that?"
The President winced, the
all‑too familiar pain, like fire, seared through his skull.
"Are you all right,
sir?" asked Scarlet worriedly.
"I... have... a...
headache," the President gasped, slumping back onto the bed.
Scarlet could only watch,
powerless to help, as the President t writhed in agony, wave after wave of
agonising pain racking his tortured body.
"What's that
ahead?" Captain Ochre had been the first to notice the faint glint of
something further up the tunnel reflecting the headlights of the S.P.V.
"Let's take a
look," replied Grey, slowing the vehicle.
As they got closer, a
myriad tiny reflections sparkled, as if a million tiny fireflies were on the
road in front of them.
As the S.P.V. came to rest,
all was revealed. Brilliantly illuminated by the headlights, a twisted pile of
scorched metal, the remains of a family saloon car, its nose buried in the
rocky wall of the tunnel.
The two Spectrum Officers
descended from the S.P.V., its metal skin gleaming softly in the light
reflected from the walls of the tunnel. Broken glass, the remains of the car
windows, crunched under their boots. The sound echoed eerily in the tunnel.
As they approached, they
could see that the car had been gutted by fire. Both mien felt their stomachs
lurch when they saw the inside of the car. The four occupants were burned
beyond recognition.
Captain Grey found himself
hoping that death had been instantaneous. As he turned. away from the wreck, he
noticed a yellow gleam on the road in front of him. He walked slowly towards
it. Picking it up, he brushed the dirt from it. It was a car registration
plate, the holes in it indicating that‑it had been torn free when the car
had crashed.
"What have you
found?" asked Captain Ochre, noticing the plate in Grey's hand.
"It looks like the
registration plate from the car," replied Grey, pulling his cap microphone
into position. "I'll ask Lieutenant Green to run a check on it."
"We can't,"
replied Ochre. "Radio can't penetrate this deep into the mountains. We'll
have to wait until we're out of the tunnel."
Sheepishly, Grey allowed
the microphone to swing back up to the peak.
Since there was nothing
further they could do for the luckless passengers of the car, they once again
took their seats.
Quickly, the seats jacked
themselves into position on the hatches which then slid shut.
Captain Grey gently manoeuvred
the bulk of the S.P.V. around the tangled wreckage before accelerating away
down the tunnel, its tail lights turning the wreck to the colour of blood. A
colour which faded and died as the vehicle disappeared from view.
After what seemed hours,
but in reality only minutes, the attack passed off. The World President lay on
the bed, eyes shut, breathing shallowly. Slowly, he opened his eyes again.
"How long have you
been having attacks like that?" asked Scarlet .
"I... can't...
remember," answered the President weakly.
"Please try to
remember," Scarlet urged. "It's vital."
The President racked his
brains. Nothing.
"I'm sorry," he
apologised. "I can't remember."
"Well," asked
Scarlet, trying a different approach. "What's the last thing that you can
remember?"
The President thought for a
moment.
"I seem to
recall," he began slowly. "A large conference in Bermuda."
Scarlet remembered it well.
After the Mysterons had threatened to destroy the conference, Spectrum had been
asked to ensure the safety of the delegates. On this occasion, however, they
had only just succeeded. The mysteronised tanker aircraft had crashed into the
conference hotel just seconds after evacuation had been completed.
"Do you recall what
happened?" asked Scarlet.
The President concentrated once more.
"There was some threat
to the conference," the President said slowly as his memory drifted slowly
back. His brow furrowed with concentration. "Some force called the Mys...
Mys..." He faltered.
"Mysterons?" ventured Scarlet helpfully.
"That's it!" the
President smiled. "The Mysterons. I asked Spectrum to ensure the safety of
the delegates."
His
memory was beginning to clear at last. "I think they succeeded too,"
he added as an afterthought.
"They did,"
confirmed Scarlet.
The President smiled
weakly. "I really must go and see them to pass on my thanks and
congratulations."
"Strange," thought Scarlet to himself. "He has no
memory of the last three months." He noticed, too, that the President had
lost the harsh tones of late. In fact he was more like he used to be.
Scarlet decided to take a
risk. "Then tell me sir," he ventured. "Why did you decide to
ban Spectrum?"
The change in the President was startling. Slumping back onto the
bed, eyes staring, the very life seemed to drain from his face. "We have
humoured these deluded individuals in their castle in the air for far too
long," he stated in a lifeless voice. "It's time we stopped their
fantasies about Alien Attacks from Mars." His voice trailed off. He lay
motionless, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Scarlet passed a hand in
front of the President's eyes. Nothing, no reaction at all.
He was about to shake him
then paused. The words uttered by the President sounded so familiar. He'd heard
them only recently.
Suddenly he had it. Scarlet
leaned over the President and looked deep into his eyes.
"Who told you?"
he asked. "Was it Grayson?"
Was there a faint flicker
of recognition deep within? Scarlet tried again.
"Grayson," he
said, louder. This time there was definitely a flicker, the eyes narrowing
momentarily.
Scarlet knew that, if he were to try any further questioning on
the subject, he could push the President over the edge into an abyss of
screaming madness. He sat back, lost in thought. Perhaps Doctor Fawn would be able
to find a cure for whatever it was that had afflicted the President. He'd have
to find a way of getting him to Cloudbase.
His thoughts were
interrupted by the door opening. Expecting the nurse, he turned back to gaze at
the patient.
"Thank you, doctor.
That will be all." Scarlet turned his head slowly towards the visitor.
The voice had been
horrifyingly familiar, he'd heard it many times before. One glance confirmed
it. GRAYSON!
Scarlet decided to bluff.
"I'm afraid that no visitors are allowed. The President is a very sick
man."
"Indeed?" Grayson
raised a surprised eyebrow. "I was given to understand that the President
was off of the danger list."
"Even so, Senator‑"
Scarlet began.
"Anyway," Grayson
continued, ignoring Scarlet's interruption. "When I asked Jaeger, the
specialist, how the President was, he suggested that I should come and see for
myself."
"Very well then, but I
must ask you to keep it as short as possible."
Scarlet knew he was beaten.
To check with the consultant would probably result in his cover being blown and
subsequent arrest on who knew what trumped up charge. He stood up.
“Thank you so much doctor." The smile on Grayson's face sent
a chill up Scarlet's spine. A chill and what else? A momentary feeling of sickness
passed over Scarlet as he left the room.
Could it be?
Scarlet had made a mental
note, whilst he'd been watching the News in the day room, to find and have a
friendly chat with the guard who had discovered the President's comatose form
and try to discover whether the President had received any visitors before his
attack. Since his interview with the
President, Scarlet knew that this was, indeed, the case. He also had a pretty
good idea of who that visitor was, but he needed proof. Scarlet knew now that
he would definitely have to speak to the guard.
He'd been on duty outside
the door of the President's room when Nurse Daniels had taken Scarlet in to
look at him. Now, however, he'd been replaced.
The replacement snapped to
attention as Scarlet approached. The man was a lot younger than Scarlet, a fact
that the Spectrum officer put to good use.
“Where's the other
guard?" barked Scarlet. "The one you relieved?”
"I, ah, well, that is
he said something about going down to the cafeteria for a drink,” stammered the
guard under Scarlet's ferocious stare.
Fortunately, Scarlet had
seen signs for the cafeteria on his way up here, so he knew where it was.
"Thanks!" he called back over his shoulder as he
sprinted down the corridor.
The guard shook his head wearily.
These doctors were all the same. Yell at you one minute, thank you the next. At
least you knew where you were in the Army. At least, you did when the
politicians kept their bright ideas to themselves. He watched bemused as the
young doctor that had just asked him where his mate was ran straight into a
much older one, bowling him over.
"And where do you
think you're going young man?" fumed Jaeger as he picked himself up from
the floor.
It was Scarlet's turn to
stammer. "I, er, that is, the Cafeteria."
"Humph!" snorted
the consultant. "Most people I know tend to run away from the place.
What's going on? Are they about to shoot the cook?"
Er, no, sir," replied
Scarlet. "I have to meet someone down there."
Jaeger raised his eyes
heavenwards. If only these young housemen would reserve that sort of thing for
their spare time. On reflection, hadn't HE been just the same in his days as a
houseman?
He sighed. "Go on
then. I can't be bothered to reprimand you now. I have a very important patient
to treat. But don't let me catch you running in the corridor again." As he
turned away to walk towards the President's room.
"No sir. Thank you
sir," Scarlet called after him before turning the corner and sprinting for
the lift.
Jaeger heard the distant
sound of running footsteps and sighed. That young man was going to end up in a
lot of trouble one day.
AS the lift doors slid
shut, Scarlet breathed a sigh of relief. The man he'd just bumped into was obviously
the consultant under whom the President was being treated. Fortunately, he'd
assumed from Scarlet's manner that he was a newly qualified doctor.
It would have been
interesting, Scarlet thought, to follow the consultant to the President's room
and see his reaction to Grayson's presence there. However, without a reasonable
explanation, that was going to arouse the consultant's suspicions. Scarlet's
luck had held for too long already. No. It would be better if Scarlet carried
on with his original aim of seeing the Security guard and leave Grayson to the
Consultant who would, no doubt, call Security and have him removed. That was a
prospect that Scarlet found most enjoyable.
The lift came to rest and
the doors slid open. Scarlet stepped out into a large dining hall, tastefully
decorated with potted palms and plants. In the middle was a small pond into
which a small fountain splashed merrily. Recorded birdsong floated gently from
hidden speakers. The overall effect was of a large indoor garden. Scarlet
decided that it could be very restful, somewhere to relax and have a meal after
a long day on the wards.
This early in the morning,
most of the tables were empty, the few customers being night workers. Scarlet's
gaze passed over the room and soon located his quarry. Sergeant Harker was
sitting at a table enjoying an early breakfast. Scarlet's mouth watered at the
sight of the food. He hadn't eaten for hours. Manfully ignoring the hunger
pangs, he casually strolled up to Harker's table.
"Sergeant
Harker?" he asked politely. The other man looked up from his meal and
nodded. Scarlet continued. "I've been asked by the specialist treating the
World President to ask you a few questions. Nothing serious, just a few little
details that need clearing up."
Harker, chewing on a
mouthful of food waved Scarlet to a chair.
Scarlet waited for the
sergeant to finish before starting to question him.
The Spectrum Pursuit
Vehicle sped from the mouth of the tunnel and rolled to a halt at the toll
booth. With a smooth whirr of machinery, a hatch opened and the seat mechanism
gently lowered Captain Grey to the ground. As the seat came to rest, Grey
released his safety harness and walked quickly over to the operator's cabin.
Captain Ochre, meanwhile, had contacted Cloudbase and reported their discovery.
"That's right,
Lieutenant," Ochre replied to a question from Lieutenant Green.
"About ten miles inside the tunnel."
"And you say that the
car was burnt out?" asked Lieutenant Green
"Totally,"
confirmed Ochre. "There was no way the passengers could have
survived."
"I have all
that," said Green when he'd finished taking down the details from Captain
Ochre. He pressed a control and his chair moved along the console. He entered
the details of the vehicle registration, found by the two Spectrum officers and
awaited the printed slip of paper from the computer banks. Within seconds it
had slid from a slot.
Green quickly re‑opened
the communications channel to Captain Ochre.
The toll‑booth
operator had been more than glad of Captain Grey's company. Since the tunnel
had closed, he had technically been unemployed but, since he was close to
retirement anyway, the management had let him stay on to warn people that the
tunnel was closed.
It didn't matter one little
bit that Spectrum had been banned. That was down to the politicians. The same
politicians, probably, who'd ordered that he be unemployed, just because the
tunnel wasn't making money. He aired his grievances to Captain Grey.
"Them and their
blasted balance sheets," he growled. "Especially that slimeball
Grayson. I knew there'd be trouble soon as I saw him. Drove up, with his greasy
smile ‘Letter from the President for you,’ he said, laughin'. Then he drove off
before I could open the letter. I'm not surprised."
"Why?" asked Grey.
"What did it say?"
“It was from the President
alright," replied the operator. "It was the order to close the
tunnel. That's the last time I vote for that guy, I can tell you. Put me out of
work it has."
“Do you still have the
letter?" asked Ochre who had just joined Grey and had only heard the tail
end of the conversation.
"Course I have,”
replied the operator. “Hang on, I'll go and get it." With that, he
disappeared into his office.
"Any luck?" asked Grey.
"Yeah," replied
Ochre. "Lieutenant Green was able to run down the car registration.” He
broke off as the operator emerged from his office.
"Here you are,"
he smiled. "I knew I had it somewhere." He passed the letter to
Ochre. There was no mistaking the Presidential seal affixed to the bottom.
"Who did you say gave
this to you?" asked Ochre, handing back the paper.
"Senator
Grayson," growled the operator.
"One final
question," began Ochre. "Do you remember if Grayson had anyone with
him in the car?"
"No," the operator
said after a moment's thought.
"You're sure about
that?" Ochre asked excitedly.
"Positive,"
replied the operator.
"Thanks," said
Ochre gratefully. "You've been a great help. Come on," he called to Grey. With that, he turned and ran
back to the S.P.V. followed by a rather puzzled Captain Grey.
"Thank you, Sergeant.
You've been most helpful." Scarlet stood up. Harker had confirmed that
Grayson had been the last person to see the President before the latter's
collapse. That, coupled with his behaviour just before the Senator had entered,
convinced him of one thing ‑ the World President was in mortal danger. He
would have to be rescued and taken to Cloudbase where, perhaps, Doctor Fawn
could take care of him. He headed once more for the lifts.
Once the two Spectrum
Officers were safely ensconced in the S.P.V., Captain Ochre felt free to tell
Grey what he'd learned.
"Lieutenant Green was
able to trace the owner of the car we found," he told Grey ,"It
belonged to none other than Senator Charles Grayson.
“Then that means..."
began Captain Grey.
"Yes," agreed
Ochre. "The REAL Senator Grayson is dead."
And Grayson's attacks on us
weren't just empty rhetoric. He really DOES want to smash Spectrum."
"Yes," agreed
Ochre. "It ties in with the Mysteron warning that we were already
powerless."
"Then we'll have to
find the President and convince him that Grayson is a Mysteron," replied
Grey.
“That's going to be easier
said than done," muttered Ochre as the S.P.V. accelerated away from the
Toll booth. He opened a communications channel to Lieutenant Green. "This
is Captain Ochre to Cloudbase. Please advise on the current location of the
World President."
Lieutenant Green was
surprised at Ochre's request. Fortunately, the computers were able to come up
with the information within seconds. He was even more surprised at Ochre and
Grey's discovery.
Once the report was
complete, he opened another channel.
"This is Cloudbase to
all Spectrum agents. You are advised that Senator Charles Grayson is a Mysteron
agent."
Outside, the Cloudbase
navigation beacons glowed a little less brilliantly as the sable blackness of
the night sky began to give way to the first dim light of the approaching dawn.
The lift doors slid open.
As he stepped out, Scarlet noticed that the other lift had just left this
floor. Any further thoughts in that direction were driven from his mind by the
blood‑curdling scream of terror from the direction of the President's
room. He broke into a run. As he reached the room, he paused. The customary bodyguard
had gone and the door was slightly ajar. He paused, holding his breath and
listened. The only sound was of someone breathing, almost panting. Scarlet knew
there was no time to waste. In one fluid motion he had kicked the door open and
dived through. Cautiously, he rose to his feet and looked around him. Nurse
Daniels was standing beside the bed, her clenched knuckles pressed tightly to
her mouth, eyes staring, oblivious to all save the figure sprawled lifelessly
on the bed. The single bullet hole in the head said it all, the dark powder
stain around it indicating that it had been fired at close range.
Jaeger had obviously seen
too much, thought Scarlet. He became aware once more of the shallow breathing
of the nurse. Gently, he released the grip of her hand on the sheet that she'd
pulled back from the consultant's head and pulled it back over his sightless
eyes. As he did so, he noticed a flash of blue from the corner of his eye. He'd
have to check up on that after he'd taken care of the nurse.
Taking her free hand, he
led her unprotesting into the corridor. A little way up the corridor, was a
small row of seats. Scarlet sat her gently down on one of them. Her eyes were
still wide, still seeing the horror in the bed.
"Shock," muttered
Scarlet to himself as he slipped back into the room. He looked around until he
finally spotted it. He reached down under the bed and his fingers closed upon a
familiar shape. As he'd thought, a Spectrum Pistol, from the colour coded top,
Captain Blue's. How it came to be here, Scarlet had no idea, but he knew that
it must not be discovered near the body. After all, What better way would there
be to incriminate Spectrum even further than by kidnapping the President,
killing the specialist treating him, probably the only witness to the
kidnapping, and then planting evidence implicating Spectrum, Quickly he hid the
pistol inside his lab coat.
Once more, he slipped
outside. The nurse sat motionless. He waved a hand in front of her eyes. No
response. He'd get nothing from her. All he'd be able to do for her would be to
call for a doctor. There was a telephone on a nearby table. A small placard was
attached to the wall next to it. 'FOR MEDICAL STAFF ONLY' Scarlet read. He
shrugged his shoulders. This was an emergency after all He picked up the
handset.
"Geneva hospital, two
minutes," Captain Ochre reported to Cloudbase.
"S.I.G.,"
Acknowledged Lieutenant Green.
"Yes?" the voice
of the duty sister at the other end was tetchy, impatient. The impatience soon disappeared
when Scarlet requested a doctor be called to attend the stricken nurse and that
a police surgeon be called.
"Right," the duty
sister told the caller. "The doctor will be with you in two minutes. In
the meantime, will you give me your name?"
But Scarlet had already
replaced the receiver and was running for the lift. As he ran, Scarlet's mind
raced. Grayson had the President as a hostage, that he knew. What he didn't
know was how much start Grayson had. The consultant had been murdered as he'd tried
to stop Grayson. The body had been placed in the bed so that, to a casual
observer, the President would have appeared to be sleeping and to delay the
search. It had been by the merest fluke that Scarlet had been in the hospital.
Had he not, the crime might not have been discovered for several hours ‑
the nurse would probably have remained in a state of shock for hours.
On the plus side, however,
the murder and also the fact that the President would not have been very mobile
in his current state of health, meant that Grayson would have taken a great
deal of time to make good his escape.
Scarlet suddenly remembered
the other lift descending just as he'd stepped out of this one. The lift doors
slid shut and he pressed the button for the Ground floor. With luck, he could
still catch them.
The lift came to rest and
the doors began to open. As Scarlet stepped through, there was a loud bang as
the main support cable snapped and the lift car disappeared from view. A few
seconds later, the sound of the car hitting the bottom of the shaft echoed
upwards.
Scarlet looked back at the
hole. He'd have been killed if he'd been inside the car when the cable broke.
Perhaps it had been a delaying tactic by the Mysterons.
"You okay,
fella?" A young doctor came forward to help him. "You could have been
killed."
"I'm fine,"
replied Scarlet, brushing off the doctor's attempts to help him. "Did you
see where Senator Grayson went?" he asked.
"Yeah, he went that
way," replied the doctor, pointing towards the exit
"Did he have anyone
with him?" asked Scarlet .
"Yeah, fella in a
wheelchair," replied the doctor.
"How long ago was
this?" asked Scarlet.
"About two
minutes."
"Thanks," the
Spectrum officer called back as he sprinted through the main doors.
The cold air outside made
Scarlet gasp. He shivered. A man could catch his death, he thought wryly. The
sound of a car engine attracted his attention. He could see the tail lights of
a saloon disappearing into the distance. Grayson had obviously had a car
waiting. Scarlet looked around him for some form of transport.
His gaze settled upon the
only vehicle in sight. A little conspicuous perhaps, but at least it would be
fast enough. Scarlet walked quickly up to it. The crew were absent, obviously
inside the hospital building.
Fortunately, the keys had
been left in the ignition. Scarlet climbed in.
The two ambulance crewmen
wheeled their now empty trolley along the corridor towards the exit satisfied
at the feeling of a job well done. Mother and baby were doing well.
"Tell me, Mick,"
the younger of the two began. "Why don't you write a book about the
ambulance service, from our point of view. I'm sure it'd sell."
The older man wasn't
convinced. He'd spent the best part of thirty years on the job, the last five
on attachment from the British Ambulance Service. He couldn't see anything
worth writing about. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I dunno," he
said slowly. “After all, who's going to want to buy it?”
"Lots of people, I'm
sure," the younger man reassured him.
"Yes, but why me?"
Mick protested. "I'm not a writer."
"But what about your
poems?" insisted the younger man. "All the guys at the station enjoy
them. And don't forget your articles for the service magazine. That one about
the cat was hilarious."
Mick smiled at the memory.
Perhaps a few of the funnier anecdotes...
All further thoughts of a
literary career were shoved to the back of their minds as they approached the
glass doors leading out to the ambulance bay. As the doors slid obediently
open, the both heard the sound of the ambulance's engine.
"OY! GET OUT OF THERE!" Mick's voice
thundered. But it was too late.
With a squeal of tyres the ambulance sped away from
the bay, its open rear doors swinging freely and banging on the sides as it
careered across the hospital grounds in hot pursuit of the fleeing Grayson. As
he approached the gate, Scarlet pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor. The
ambulance leapt forward through the gateway.
At that moment, he spotted the lights of the S.P.V.
bearing down upon him. He wrenched the steering wheel hard over and hit the
brakes. The two vehicles missed by mere inches, the S. P. V screeching to a
halt, the ambulance burying its nose in a tree with a sickening crunch.
Captain Ochre waited just long enough for his hatch to
open before releasing his harness and leaping from his seal. He sprinted over
to the ambulance, ready to give the maniac inside the benefit of his opinion of
them. As he approached, he could see the figure inside struggling to release
himself from the wreckage. He grabbed the figure's white‑clad shoulder
and swung him round.
"Of all the stupid..." he began.
"Captain Scarlet!" he exclaimed as he recognised the figure.
“Senator Grayson's got the President," Scarlet
told Grey as he helped him from the ambulance.
"I've got some news for you," added Grey.
"Our friend Senator Grayson's a Mysteron."
Of course! That explained the faint feeling that
Scarlet had felt when Grayson had dismissed him, thinking that he was a doctor.
"Come on!" said Scarlet, starting to run
towards the S.P.V. "We've got to catch them."
The two ambulancemen, running for all their worth,
reached the S.P.V. at the same time as the Spectrum officers. As they ran, the
had seen the near miss and the subsequent meeting between the ambulance and the
tree.
“All right then," panted an enraged Mick.
"What's the big idea?"
Once before, some joker had hidden his ambulance
whilst he was answering an emergency call. He hadn't found it funny then,
either. This was about the only thing that could enrage the normally placid
man.
"I'll explain later," replied Scarlet
quickly.
"You'll explain now!" an enraged Mick,
lunging at Scarlet. It took the combined strength of Captain Grey and the other
ambulanceman to restrain him until he'd heard what Scarlet had to say.
"But what about my ambulance?" Mick
protested.
"Captain Ochre," Scarlet called. "Sort
the crash out with the hospital will you?" he asked as Ochre popped his
head out of the open hatchway.
"S.I.G.," replied Ochre descending to the
ground.
"Watch yourself," Scarlet warned him.
"Remember, you're still a wanted criminal."
"Yeah," replied Ochre, with a grin.
"I'll be careful."
"Now, if you wouldn't mind sir? said Scarlet,
indicating that the ambulanceman should get into the S.P.V.
"What?" asked Mick, puzzled by Scarlet's
suggestion.
"Get in!" said Scarlet bundling him inside.
"If the President is as ill as we fear,"
said Grey by way of explanation as Scarlet steered the bulk of the S.P.V.
through the gateway. "We'll need someone medically trained to look after
him."
If we can get him back alive, that is, Scarlet thought grimly to himself.
As the sound of the S.P.V. died away, Ochre turned to
the young ambulanceman beside him. "We'd better get started," he told
him. "then NI buy you some coffee.
"Thanks," replied the young man. "But
what about Mick? I thought he was going to knock seven bells out of your
mate."
"He'll be okay," replied Ochre.
Indeed, after his initial misgivings' Mick found that he was actually enjoying the ride as Captain Scarlet skilfully guided the S.P.V. along the winding roads through the mountains. Fortunately, there were no junctions or exits for another ten miles or so and despite the delays, they soon began to make up the lost ground between themselves and Grayson. As they travelled, the two Spectrum Officers each took the opportunity to bring the other up to date with everything that had happened to them.
When they had finished, Scarlet turned to the ambulanceman. "I'm sorry we had to kidnap you Mr..."
"Mick will do," replied the ambulanceman with a smile. He hadn't had so much excitement in years.
"All stand for his honour Chief Justice Kaufmann." The Clerk of the Court's voice snapped Captain Blue out of his scrutiny of his surroundings.
Court Number One was impressive. Unlike the other courts, this had retained its original wood panelling which had been cleaned and polished until it reflected the overhead lights with a warm golden glow. Under other circumstances, Blue was sure that he would have found it restful.
They had been brought in a few minutes before. From the windows of the corridor outside, Blue could see the early morning traffic as people drove in to work. The early morning sun shone from a cloudless sky, its rays warming his face. Judge Kaufmann obviously liked to start early. The spectators in the visitors gallery had started an excited murmuring as they noticed the Spectrum uniforms.
On account of their injuries, Captain Blue and Destiny Angel sat in the seats that had been provided. Colonel White, however, elected to remain standing. Rigidly to attention, face expressionless, his eyes stared straight ahead of him.
The murmuring of the audience ceased as Judge Kaufmann entered. Silently he entered the chamber and took his seat.
The Clerk of the Court rose. "Colonel White, Commander‑in‑Chief of the banned Spectrum Organisation, you and your colleagues are charged with High Treason in that you did criminally conspire to assassinate the World President. You are furthermore charged with failure to obey the orders of the World Government and the attempted murder of Senator Charles Grayson. How do you plead?"
Colonel White could only splutter in furious disbelief. After the years of service he'd given, first to the World Navy, then the Universal Secret Service and latterly as Commander‑in‑Chief of the Spectrum Organisation, to be charged with such crimes was against all reason.
Finally, he felt able to speak. "My lord," he began, "I wish to protest in the strongest possible terms. Not only have we no defence counsel, we have had no chance to prepare our case, since we had no real idea of what charges were being brought against us."
"I note, your protest," replied the Judge. "However I would like to point out that TWO counsels were appointed and I understand that you rejected both of them." White was speechless.
Captain Blue leapt to his feet and gasped at the sudden pain from his ankle. "Objection!" he yelled. "The first Counsel was a Mysteron booby trap, intended to destroy Cloudbase."
"Please spare us your fantasies Captain," the Judge rebuked him. "Otherwise, I may be forced to have you committed. Your objection is overruled. As I said before," the judge continued. "You have seen fit to reject the Counsels appointed for you. I therefore appoint you, Colonel White as Defence Counsel.”
"Should I enter a plea of Not Guilty?" asked the Clerk of the Court.
"Don't be ridiculous!" retorted Kaufmann. "Let it be entered that the accused REFUSED to plead."
The Clerk frowned. It was unlike the old boy. Normally, he would have directed that 'Not Guilty' be entered on the record. Still, his was not to reason why. He completed the form as instructed.
SPECTRUM INFORMATION CENTRE ‑ GENEVA
NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT IDENTIFICATION
The figure nodded slowly as it read the sign then
reached for the door control.
The door slid open and admitted a tall figure wearing
a long overcoat. Just visible beneath the hem were pair of jackboots. As the
moving floor carried him toward the Security desk, automatic guns tracked the
figure.
"I require copies of the records concerning the
first Mysteron attack on the World President,” the figure told the Security
Guard.
"Identification please," demanded the Guard.
A pass was produced, carefully scrutinised and then returned. The door to the
vaults slid open at the touch of a hidden control under the Guard's desk.
Within minutes, the figure had the tapes he required.
"Come to get evidence to clear Colonel White?" the Guard called to
the figure as it left the vaults.
"Something like that," came the reply as the
floor carried the figure towards the exit. The door slid shut. It was strange
that such a well known Spectrum officer should risk arrest to come here in
person to collect the information, the Guard thought to himself. Perhaps, under
the circumstances, he was the only one able to. Momentarily, he toyed with the
idea of contacting Cloudbase, then thought better of it. The Spectrum Officer's
pass had been genuine. Shaking his head wearily, he returned to his book. He
had nothing better to do. When the World Army officers had come, he'd been deep
inside one of the vaults. For some strange reason they had neglected to check
whether there was anyone there other than the Sergeant, who was now helping them
with their enquiries.
It would be foolish to try to escape ‑ he'd
probably be shot as soon as he left the building ‑ so he'd remain at his
post until he too was arrested.
Captain Blue slumped onto his seat dejectedly. Colonel
White stood silently in the dock. The Counsel for the Prosecution rose to
speak.
"My Lord," he began, "I intend to show that these criminals
have attempted to perpetrate the most heinous of crimes known to our
society." The man's voice was low, almost monotonous. Captain Blue knew
that he'd heard it before. If only he could place it...
Whilst he had been addressing the Judge, the
Prosecuting Counsel had managed to keep his back to the accused. Finally,
however, he turned to face them. As he did so, Destiny gasped and put her hand to
her mouth. It took a moment longer for the others to realise why.
Then they saw what she had seen. Under the powdered
wig and ornate robes was the pallid complexion of none other than Captain
Black.
"It's a kangaroo court, Colonel. We don't stand a
chance," whispered Blue to White.
"I know, Captain," was the whispered reply.
"I know."
Despite its size, the S.P.V. could move swiftly on
even the most sinuous of mountain roads and had rapidly made up the lost ground
between it and the saloon which was now only a matter of yards ahead.
"We'll have force them off the road,"
Scarlet told Grey.
S.I.G.," replied Grey.
"How are you going to do that?" asked Mick,
worriedly, he had no wish to pick up bits of body from the wreck of a car. He'd
done quite enough of that in his time. "We've only got a small first‑aid
kit aboard."
"Don't worry," Grey reassured him.
"Captain Scarlet knows what he's doing."
Gently, he eased the vehicle forwards until it was
running next to the fleeing car. The driver floored the accelerator pedal and
the car shot forward. Scarlet, however, could not be beaten so easily. The
S.P.V. easily caught it and regained its station.
Scarlet waited until they were approaching an open,
snow covered field before making his next move.
The slightest of touches on the controls brought the
two speeding vehicles closer and yet closer until with an almost imperceptible
bump, they collided. The effect on the saloon was dramatic. With a squeal of
brakes, it left the road, tearing a hole in the fence surrounding the field and
hurtled into it. Totally beyond control, it ploughed a deep furrow in the snow,
finally coming to rest in a deep snowdrift.
Scarlet slowed the S.P.V. to a more sedate pace before
driving back to the hole and manoeuvring through it. Because the. S.P.V. had
been specially designed to cross any terrain, it was able to cross the snowy
field and pulled up a short distance away from the saloon. As their respective
hatches opened, Scarlet and Grey drew their guns, Grey his own and Scarlet the
one that he'd liberated from the President's room at the hospital.
"Cover me," Scarlet ordered as he started
towards the saloon.
"What about me?" asked Mick as he unbuckled
himself from his seat.
"Wait here until I call you," replied
Scarlet . "There's no point in risking your life needlessly.” With that, he walked slowly toward the
saloon, ready to dive for cover at the slightest sign of trouble.
As he approached, he noticed something strange. There
was only one passenger visible. Scarlet could see him slumped forward over the
steering wheel. Perhaps the President was laying on the rear seats Confident
now that there was no danger, he pulled open the door.
Gently, he grasped the driver's shoulder and eased the
unconscious form back from the wheel. He gasped as he recognised the face,
blank and expressionless, though it was. The last time he'd seen that face had
been at the hospital, moments before Grayson had entered the room. Grayson had
eluded them. The driver of the car, in a deep trance, was none other than the
World President.
"Captain Grey, Mick!" he yelled.
The two men ran as fast as they could across the
difficult terrain.
The ambulanceman checked the President's vital signs.
"He's alive, just," he confirmed. "But we'll have to get him to
a hospital quickly."
"Right," acknowledged Scarlet. "Captain
Grey." He turned to the other officer. "Contact Cloudbase and have
Doctor Fawn put on standby."
"S.I.G.," acknowledged Grey, pulling down
his Cap Microphone.
Whilst Grey made the call, Scarlet helped the
ambulanceman to carry the President to the waiting S.P.V.
"Our nearest helicopter is stationed at a service
station near the mouth of the Alpine Tunnel," explained Scarlet.
"Once we reach it, we can have the President on Cloudbase within
minutes."
The call completed, Grey rejoined his colleagues in
the S.P.V. which carefully drove back onto the road before accelerating towards
the Service Station and the helicopter waiting there.
Captain Blue rose to his feet once more. "Your
Honour," he protested, “These accusations are totally without
foundation."
"Objection overruled," replied
Kaufmann. "And if these outbursts
continue young man, I shall have you removed from the court."
Blue returned to his seat seething with rage. Colonel
White laid a restraining hand on Blue's arm.
“It's as if they're not interested in anything we have
to say," Blue whispered to White. White nodded slowly in reply.
Meanwhile, Kaufmann had directed Black to continue.
"I will now call the first witness," Black
told the court, "Senator Charles
Grayson."
"Drilling completed sir," reported the site
foreman.
“Right, start laying charges," replied Baxter,
the project manager. “The sooner we blow this tunnel, the sooner we all get
paid."
Fortunately, he was only being called upon to seal the
entrances, not bring down the whole of the tunnel, but even so, he did not like
tunnels one little bit. They always seemed to cause problems when they were
blown. Now quarries, they were much easier. Still, he was being paid good money
to blow up this tunnel, so blown up it would be, his own thoughts on the matter
would have to be set aside.
The Turbines on the Spectrum Helicopter whined into
life. As Captain Grey carried out the pre‑flight checks, Scarlet helped the
ambulanceman to carry the unconscious form of the President and lay it in the
passenger cabin.
"Phew!" he panted. "You people really
earn your money, having to do this all day."
“It's nice to be appreciated." Mick smiled.
“Can I give you a lift back to Geneva?" Scarlet
shouted over the roar of the helicopter lifting off.
“That's very kind of you," shouted the
ambulanceman in reply.
As the sound of the Helicopter faded away, they
climbed back into the S.P.V.
Scarlet's epaulettes flashed green. "What is it, Lieutenant Green?" he
asked as his microphone dropped into position.
"We have located the Mysteron Grayson,"
reported Green. "He is currently testifying in the trial of the Colonel,
Captain Blue and Destiny."
"Of course!" Scarlet was triumphant.
"Why didn't I see it before?"
"See what?" Green was confused.
"This whole trial is a Mysteron plot. They find
Colonel White guilty of trumped up charges and have him executed, using our own
judicial system and by carefully laid propaganda, render Spectrum useless.
Lieutenant," he asked. "How can we stop the trial?"
"New evidence is the usual way.," replied
Green. “Or failing that, a Presidential Order, dropping all charges."
"If I'm right, they won't listen to any evidence
that won't suit them," said Scarlet. "So It'll have to be the
Presidential Order. Tell Doctor Fawn that he's got to find out what's wrong
with the President, quickly. In the meantime, I shall return to Geneva and
attempt to rescue the Colonel. I shall take the Tunnel route, so I'll be out of
contact for about twenty minutes."
"S.I.G.," acknowledged Green.
Another sign had been erected in the mouth of the
tunnel. Once more splintered wood flew in all directions as Scarlet drove the
S. P. V. straight through it and into the tunnel. Had Scarlet read it, he might
have considered taking the mountain route. Instead of the previous TUNNEL
CLOSED, this sign had borne another message, abrupt and to the point: DANGER:
DEMOLITION IN PROGRESS.
"Thank you Senator, you may step down."
Grayson smiled at Black's instruction. He was sure that his evidence would
drive the last nail into Spectrum's coffin. It was a pity that his star
witness, the President, had been rescued by Spectrum. He scowled at the memory
of the chase. Fortunately, his Mysteron masters had helped him to evade capture
and brought him here to testify. He stepped down from the witness box.
Black turned once more to the Judge "My
lord," he began, "with the aid of my final witness, I shall prove
that Colonel White has been the mastermind behind this conspiracy. Before I
call him, I would like to say that he is a serving member of Spectrum."
This revelation caused a stir in the gallery.
Blue and Destiny looked at each in amazement. White
stood, his face emotionless, his whitening knuckles the only clue to the cold,
silent fury within. Who could betray Spectrum in such a manner and more
importantly, why?
The muttering from the visitors quickly grew in
audibility until Kaufmann rapped sharply with his gavel. "Silence!"
he roared. A deathly silence descended upon the chamber.
"Very well," Kaufmann informed Black.
"You may proceed."
"Thank you,” replied Black. "This Officer
who has given many years of service to Spectrum has turned State's Evidence
because of his revulsion at the tyranny exhibited by Colonel White.”
Tyranny! Whoever the Judas was, White would personally
kick him out of Spectrum. He'd personally overseen the setting up of the
organisation and there was no way he was going to see it destroyed
by a traitor from within.
Black had finished his
preamble. "I now call the Officer to give his evidence. Captain Scarlet."
White and Blue looked at
each other in horror. Their most trusted of allies, so often risking his life
for his colleagues now so callously turning against them. It was unbelievable.
"Captain Scarlet!"
Destiny's voice, pleading, appealing to him, carried across the court‑room.
The figure climbing to the witness box ignored her.
"Silence!" snapped
Kaufmann. Destiny fell silent.
Black began his questioning.
"0. K.," ordered
Baxter. "Sound the alarm." Obediently, the site foreman pressed a
button on the console in front of him. The moan of the siren echoed over the
site as the workers made for safety. When satisfied that no‑one remained
in the tunnel, the foreman cut the siren. The last echoes died away and silence
descended as Baxter connected the detonator.
"Detonating in ...
three ... two ... one..." said Baxter.
As his finger reached for
the detonator button, he became aware of a sound emanating from the tunnel. His
finger jerked away from the button but the circuit had already been made. As
the first rumble of the explosion reached him, he became aware of a silvery‑blue
shape appearing at the tunnel mouth, a shape which sped away split seconds
before thousands of tons of rock filled the tunnel. Open mouthed, Baxter and
the. foreman watched the S.P.V. as it disappeared into the distance.
"How is he,
doctor?"
As soon as the helicopter
had landed, Captain Grey had escorted the President to the Sickbay where Doctor
Fawn had begun an exhaustive examination in an effort to find the cause of and
more importantly, the cure for the President's illness. Grey had waited
patiently until it appeared that the doctor had finished before asking the
question.
"Physically, he's
fine," replied the doctor. "But it appears that the President has
been under a phenomenal strain. I would say that it's a miracle that his mind
hasn't snapped altogether." He put down the syringe that he had just used.
"I've heavily sedated
him," Fawn explained. "It's essential that his mind is rested before
we can question him. You ought to go and get some rest yourself ‑ you
look exhausted."
"Yeah, perhaps you're
right," agreed Grey. “It HAD been a long night.” With that, he made his
way to the Room of Sleep.
The Prosecution's
questioning of Captain Scarlet had. at first. been relatively harmless, basic
facts establishing his credentials and background information concerning his
career prior to joining Spectrum.
Captain Blue turned to
Colonel White. "I don't get it, Colonel," he whispered. "Why is
he helping the Prosecution."
"I don't know,
Captain," White hissed through clenched teeth. "But I'll have his
commission for this." He turned his attention back to the court
proceedings.
"Now, Captain," Black
prompted. "Will you tell the court about the plan to kidnap the World
President?"
"Captain Brown and I
were detailed by the Colonel to take the World President to New York, where he
was to be held at the Spectrum Maximum Security Building."
"Can you prove
this?" asked Black.
“Yes Sir," replied
Scarlet.
In response to a request
from the Prosecution, a large video screen had been lowered from the ceiling.
After a moment of static, the picture cleared to show a picture of the
Cloudbase Control room.
White was seated at his desk. He reached over to his controls and
pressed buttons to open communications links with Captains Scarlet and Brown.
'Captain Brown, I'm putting you
in charge of this mission," said the Colonel.
“Yes sir ," replied the unseen Captain
Brown.
“I don't understand,
Colonel," Blue whispered. "How did they get the transcripts?"
“Scarlet obviously went to
the records centre," replied White. "His pass would have given him
clearance to extract any information he felt fit." Their gaze returned to
the screen.
The scene had changed to the Maximum Security Vehicle. Inside, Brown and
the President were in conversation.
The M. S. V. pulled up outside the Maximum Security Building and Brown
led the President inside. They entered the lift to the underground chamber
where the President was to be kept.
To White and Blue, the next
scene was all too familiar.
The two figures on the screen wore now sitting on either side of a desk.
The world President tried to make conversation. Brown made no reply. The
President tried again. "Captain Brown‑" the President ventured,
"Captain Brown are you all right?"
Captain Brown sat motionless in his seat, like a waxwork. Suddenly, a
wisp of smoke appeared from his clothing. Then another. The President reached
for a button on his desk. The wall behind him ,Swiftly
opened upwards, his seat swept back out
of danger and the wall closed just as
Captain Brown's body exploded, completely
destroying the building.
The screen went blank.
"So you see, members of
the Jury," Black said as he turned to face them. "Colonel White not
only instructed Officers under his command to kidnap the World President, but
one of those Officers attempted to kill him."
White could stand no more.
"I object!" he thundered. "That evidence has been distorted!”
"Are you denying that
it was you who appeared on the recording?" asked Kaufmann.
"No sir, but..."
began White.
"Then your objection is
overruled," snapped Kaufmann testily.
The Clerk of the court
frowned once more. He'd attended many cases at which Kaufmann had presided.
This was totally different. It was almost as if a double had taken the old
chap's place. A double with no interest in seeing that justice was done.
Fuming, White sat heavily on
the chair that had so far remained empty.
With a squeal of brakes, the
S.P.V. pulled up in front of the Hospital.
"Well, It's been nice
meeting you," Mick said as the hatchway opened and his seat was lowered to
the ground.
"Thanks for your
help," Scarlet replied.
Captain Ochre, already
alerted by Scarlet's radio call, stood waiting as the ambulanceman released his
harness and stood up.
“I've sorted the crash out
with your control, so you needn't worry," Ochre informed him.
"There's a pot of coffee waiting for you in the Cafeteria," he added
as he strapped himself into his seat which then jacked itself back into
position.
"Thanks. Good
luck," Mick called after them as, with a spurt of gravel, the S.P.V. sped
away towards the Hall of Justice.
Black continued to question
Scarlet.
The sense of betrayal was
too much for Blue. He leaned over to the Colonel. "If we get out of this
alive," he whispered in cold fury, "Indestructible or not. I'm
personally going to find a way to kill Captain Scarlet."
"We have to face facts,
Captain," the Colonel replied, a little calmer now. "It's obvious
that the Mysterons have regained their hold over him."
The original Scarlet had
been killed in a car crash. Although the Mysteron influence had been shaken off
by the fall from the Car‑Vu, the body that had been taken back to
Cloudbase had still been that of the Mysteron duplicate.
White had always had to
consider the possibility that some day the Mysterons might, once more, reassert
themselves. This had obviously now happened.
Destiny said nothing. A
single tear rolled down her cheek.
“The court will now
adjourn," Kaufmann announced as soon as Black had finished his
questioning.
"What about the case
for the defence?" asked Blue.
"You will be heard
after the recess," snapped Kaufmann. "
For all the good it
will do you, he thought to himself
"All Stand," the
Clerk of the Court ordered, relieved that he could go outside for a breath of
air ‑ the atmosphere within the chamber was electric. He had a distinct
feeling that there was more to this case than met the eye.
The Court rose and waited
for Kaufmann to leave before, themselves, leaving the room. The guards led
Blue, White and Destiny back to their cell.
The S.P.V. came to rest at
the foot of the steps leading to the Hall of Justice.
Scarlet had already released
his harness before the hatch was fully open. "Come on!" he called to
Ochre as he sprinted up the steps.
Ochre, laden with Mysteron
detector and gun, following, saw Scarlet stopped by a Security Guard. Scarlet
was obviously in no mood to be interrupted. With a blow to the jaw, the Guard
spun round and collapsed unconscious, his helmet rolling down a couple of steps
before coming to rest.
Without waiting for his
colleague, Scarlet ran inside. The entrance hall was huge, ornate columns
reaching up from the marble floor to the high vaulted ceiling above. Signs
indicating the various courtrooms pointed in all directions. A court official,
busied on some errand, made to walk past. Scarlet grabbed his arm.
"Excuse, me," he said politely, "can you tell me where the trial
of the Spectrum Officers is taking place?" The man looked as if he had a
problem believing what his eyes were telling him.
"Come on man, tell
me!" Scarlet snapped.
"Th‑that
one", he said, pointing towards the closed doors of the main court.
"Thank you,"
replied Scarlet, releasing the official The official scurried away, still
disbelieving the evidence of his own eyes. He had seen identical twins before,
but they had never quite been as similar as that.
Scarlet quickly made his way
to the doors. He was about to press his ear to the dark oak panels when he was
overcome by a deep feeling of nausea, worse than any he had previously
encountered. Slowly he began to
sink to his knees. At that moment, the door opened. Scarlet looked up. He
blinked with disbelief. There, framed in the doorway was ... himself!
Weakly, Scarlet felt inside
his coat for Blue's gun, but the Mysteron had already drawn his own pistol and
taken aim at Scarlet's head.
The Mysteron smiled coldly.
"The Mysterons have modified this gun," he informed the kneeling
Scarlet. “It will destroy you as you have destroyed us in the past."
His finger tightened on the
trigger. Scarlet closed his eyes in defeat.
"Goodbye Captain
Scarlet."
The high pitched whine of an
electron gun filled the air.
Scarlet opened his eyes, the
feelings of nausea gone, and looked up. The Mysteronised Scarlet stood frozen
for a moment, a shocked expression on his face, before falling lifelessly to
the floor, his gun skittering away across the floor.
Captain Ochre, smiling
broadly, lowered the anti‑Mysteron gun.
"Lucky I brought this
gadget," he said helping the still shaky Scarlet to his feet.
“I'll say," replied
Scarlet with a smile. “But how did you know which one to shoot?"
"Simple," replied
Ochre. "I ran into some poor demented soul muttering about two Captain
Scarlets. It seems that he's been working in the Court where the Colonel is in
trial and he recognised you as the chief prosecution witness."
"So that's why he
looked as it he'd seen a ghost," said Scarlet, lifting the shoulders of
his Mysteron counterpart.
"There was also the
fact," Ochre added. "That when you left me behind, you weren't in
uniform." He grabbed the Mysteron's legs and between them, the two
officers managed to carry the body into the cloakroom.
“Do you know what I'm going
to do when we get back to Cloudbase?" Scarlet asked as they struggled with
their burden.
“No, what?" asked
Ochre.
"Lose some
weight," replied Scarlet. "I weigh a ton!"
Once in the cloakroom, they
locked for a suitable hiding place for the body. "In there," Scarlet
suggested, pointing to a the half‑open door to a cupboard. Opening the
door revealed mops, a bucket and assorted cleaning materials, obviously, the
cupboard was used by a cleaner.
Between them, the two
Spectrum officers pushed the body into the cupboard, covering it with a dust
sheet, and then closed the door.
"What now?" asked
Ochre.
"I think we ought to
find the Colonel and the others,” replied Scarlet. "But first," he
added, grabbing an overcoat from a coat‑hook and passing it to Ochre.
"You'd better make yourself a little less conspicuous." The coat was
large and baggy. So much so that the anti‑Mysteron gun and could be
concealed within it. The Mysteron detector, looking as it did, like a slightly
unusual camera which, after all was what it was, Scarlet slung over his
shoulder.
"So where do we start
looking?" asked Ochre as they left the cloakroom.
The court‑room was
empty when they cautiously entered the visitor's gallery.
“Obviously the court's been
adjourned," said Scarlet.
“Let's try the cells,"
suggested Ochre.
Fortunately, there was a map
of the building on a nearby wall and after only a few seconds, they had located
the cells.
"Hm, that's very
interesting," commented Ochre, pointing out a feature on the map.
"Yes," agreed
Scarlet. “Come on, time's getting short.”
Since it was a Saturday,
most of the building was deserted and their footsteps echoed eerily along the
corridors. A short flight of stone steps led down to the detention area.
The guard yawned and looked
at his watch for the umpteenth time. Even though he had only been on duty for
an hour, he was bored. There had been excitement this morning, it was true,
when the prisoner in blue had tried to escape. "The tranquillising dart
should be wearing off about now," he said to himself.
Any further thoughts were
forgotten as he heard footsteps approaching. Perhaps the warders had come to
take his charges away. The rotten lot hadn't even offered to bring him back
something from the canteen.
He was surprised therefore,
when a doctor, stethoscope hanging around his neck, and a man wearing an
overcoat, obviously too large for him, strode into view.
"Open up!" ordered
Scarlet briskly. The guard turned to unlock the door then stopped himself.
"Do you have some sort
of identification, sir?" he challenged hesitantly.
"I'm sorry,” replied
Scarlet. "I left it outside in the rush to get here. You see, the old man
is very ill and needs regular treatment. When he missed his appointment at the
hospital this morning, I feared the worst. This gentleman here," he
indicated Ochre, "is the old man's solicitor. He contacted me and we
dashed over here. I only hope that we're not too late."
“I'm sorry," replied
the guard. "But I have my orders. No‑one is to speak to the
prisoners under any circumstances."
"O.K. then," said
Scarlet. "I tried. But it'll be your neck on the block if the old man
doesn't attend court tomorrow. I'm sure it'll do your promotion prospects a power
of good when it's discovered that you were the one responsible for his death.
That's what I'll tell everyone, that you prevented me saving his life."
The guard wavered.
"Perhaps a couple of minutes wouldn't hurt," he said, unlocking the
door.
“That's the spirit!"
smiled Scarlet, slapping the guard on the back.
Captain Blue slowly became
aware of faces looking down at him. It took him a moment to recognise them as
Colonel White and Destiny Angel. His head ached from the after‑effects of
the anaesthetic dart. He groaned.
“How do you feet,
Captain?" asked White, concerned as ever for the welfare of his staff.
Blue shook his head to clear
it and immediately wished that he hadn't. "I'll be okay, Colonel," he informed White. “I
just wish that the steam‑hammer would stop."
"You took a great risk,
trying to escape," Destiny said quietly.
"I know," replied
Blue. “I thought I could get away with it."
“Well at least the guards
used tranquillising darts," said White as he helped Blue to his feet.
"We have to be thankful for that."
Before Blue could reply, he
was interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked. Quickly, the two
figures were ushered in and the door locked behind them.
It was Destiny who first
recognised the taller of the two figures beneath his unusual clothing Blue,
heard her exclamation of "Captain Scarlet!" That was enough. With a
yell of 'TRAITOR!" he lunged at the figure, his fingers locking around
Scarlet's throat. Scarlet struggled, but Blue was a man possessed, anger and
hatred lending strength. Scarlet was on his knees before the combined strengths
of Ochre and White could drag Blue away. They held him firmly as Scarlet,
gasping for breath, slowly got to his feet.
"Captain Blue!"
snapped White. "You are still an Officer of Spectrum. Kindly act like
one." Despite the circumstances in which they found themselves, the
Colonel was still very much in control. His rebuke brought Blue to his senses.
He stopped struggling but continued to glare malevolently at Scarlet, gently
massaging his sore neck. Destiny, in true Gallic style, stood in front of him
and spat in his face. A single tear trickling down her cheek, she turned her
back on him.
Before Scarlet could utter a
word, White had turned to Ochre.
"Captain Ochre,"
he ordered. "You are to place Captain Scarlet under arrest."
Ochre was confused. "I
don't understand, Colonel," he replied.
"Captain Scarlet has
been giving evidence against us at the trial," White explained.
"Evidence which has been edited to give a totally false picture. It is
therefore clear that the Mysterons have once more taken control of him."
"Colonel‑"
began Scarlet.
"Be quiet!"
snapped White. "Consider yourself under arrest."
For the first time, White
noticed the anti‑Mysteron gun, that had been hidden inside Ochre's coat.
"Captain Ochre,"
he ordered. "You are to cover Captain Scarlet. If he makes a false move,
you are to fire. Is that understood?"
The answer was as unexpected
as it was brief: "No sir."
White was furious.
"What did you say?" he asked angrily.
"No, sir," replied
Ochre. "I have been with this man since early this morning, when we met at
the hospital. Apart from five minutes when we arrived, he hasn't been out of my
sight."
"There was still time
for a Mysteron replica to have been made,”
insisted Blue.
"Indeed there WAS a
Mysteron copy ‑" admitted Ochre.
"See!" interrupted
Blue ecstatically.
"But I destroyed it,”
Ochre continued undaunted. "It had overcome the REAL Scarlet and was just
about to finish him I off."
"Can you prove
this?" asked White.
"We left the body in a
cloakroom," replied Ochre.
"Well there's no way of
checking whilst we're under arrest," sighed White.
"Perhaps there
is," replied Ochre. "What was the Captain Scarlet that you saw
wearing?"
“Spectrum uniform,"
replied White.
“Well there you are,"
smiled Ochre. "The Captain Scarlet that I have spent all morning with, has
been wearing what you see now."
Blue was still not quite
convinced. "Colonel, how do we know that this man in front of us is the
REAL Captain Ochre, not a Mysteron?"
White noticed the Mysteron
Detector, still slung over Scarlet's shoulder. Give me that detector," he
ordered. "Slowly."
Carefully, Scarlet eased it
off of his shoulder and passed it to the Colonel.
"Captain Ochre, If you
wouldn't mind..." said White, raising the detector. Ochre stood against
the wall as White pressed the button, activating it. After a few seconds, he
operated the second lever and a photograph popped up. It was a perfect X‑Ray
photograph. A Mysteron would have been opaque to X‑Rays, the result being
a normal portrait photograph of the subject.
"It seems that I owe
you an apology Captain Ochre," admitted White. "You too
Captain," he said to Scarlet.
"Me too," admitted
a sheepish Blue offering his hand to Scarlet who grasped it warmly. "It's
a terrible thing, suspicion," he added.
"I'm so glad that you
are not a traitor," added Destiny, taking Scarlet's free hand.
White cleared his throat
noisily when he noticed this and Destiny let go as if electrified. The Colonel
had very strict views on such matters whilst on duty.
"Have
you come to get us out?" asked Blue.
“I
think it would be better if I had your report first, Captain," White said
before Scarlet could reply.
“Yes
sir," he replied.
When Scarlet and Ochre had finished, White
sat for a moment, deep in thought. The more he thought about it, the more he
became convinced that the whole
trial was no more than an elaborate farce, with one aim, to find him and the
others guilty of crimes for which there was a mandatory death sentence.
A break‑out was too risky ‑ people might
get hurt. No he would have to come up with a plan...
"Captain Scarlet, Captain Ochre, he said after a
moment's thought . "Listen carefully, this is what I want you to
do..."
Ten minutes later, Scarlet and Ochre left the cell,
Ochre once more wearing his overcoat.
“Is he okay?" asked the guard.
"It's too early to say," replied Scarlet.
"But I've done the best I can."
With that, they strode towards the stairs. The guards
sighed. He wished that they had stayed longer, just for a chat. He looked at
his watch again. Roll on lunch‑time. He looked down at his ample
waistline and sighed once more. He knew that he really ought to lose some
weight, but he was a big lad and needed a lot to keep him going.
Sadly, he returned to his solitary vigil.
"So what do we do now, Colonel?" asked Blue.
"We wait, Captain. Our only hope lies with Captain Ochre and Captain
Scarlet."
At the main doors to the court‑room, the two
Captains split up, following their respective orders. "Good luck, Captain
Ochre," said Scarlet, before turning on his heel and heading for the
cloakroom, in accordance with the Colonel's plan.
"Thanks," muttered Ochre to himself.
"I'm going to need it."
After a brief detour, he made for the exit.
Unencumbered as he now was, by the equipment he had previously been carrying,
he was able to run for the doors.
Once outside, he paused only to discard the overcoat
before sprinting down the steps to the waiting S.P.V. As he reached for the control
to open the hatch, he heard a yell behind him. An irate security guard, an ugly
bruise staining his cheek, had just left the building and had started to run
towards him.
With a gentle whirr, the seat lowered to the ground.
Ochre prepared to strap himself in when he became aware of a buzz past his ear.
A moment later, he heard the crack of the guard's rifle. The guard had adopted
a kneeling position, his rifle in the firing position. Quickly, the hatch
closed as, with a whine, the next bullet ricocheted from the metal of the
S.P.V.
"Pnew! That was close," muttered Ochre to
himself, starting the S.P.V.
As it sped away from the Justice Building, he called
Cloudbase.
Lieutenant Green was relieved when Ochre called.
Relief which soon turned to worry when he learned that the Colonel and the
others were not yet safe. However, he set his personal feelings aside as he
received his instructions from Captain Ochre.
“I have all that," he told Ochre. He closed the
channel and opened another to Geneva Hospital.
The Secretary was apologetic. "I'm sorry
M'sieu," she informed Green. "Doctor Harvey hasn't come in this
morning. I believe he had something of a late night last night. It could be
that he has overslept."
“Well, do you have a number to contact him?" asked
Green.
"Why yes
M'sieu," replied the secretary. "But," she added, "I'm not
supposed to tell anyone."
"You must, people's lives depend on my getting in
touch with the doctor."
She thought for a moment. Hospital rules were strict
on that matter... yet the young man's voice held a note of sincerity that she
found impossible to refuse.
Green thanked her hurriedly then made the call.
The alarm clock sat mute on the bedside locker, having
long ago rung to exhaustion. Beside it sat an long‑forgotten cup of tea,
a deep brown skin floating on the by‑now cold surface of the liquid. The
only sound in the room was that of muffled snoring emanating from somewhere
under the blankets on the bed.
The telephone, an antique model with a bell, jangled noisily.
It finally succeeded where the alarm had previously failed. With a faint groan,
the huddled form moved slightly. A lone hand worked its way out of the cocoon
of blankets and groped for the receiver. The fingers touched and then grasped.
The arm withdrew, the handset drawing the coiled cable behind it.
"Yes, What is it?" the muffled voice said
sleepily into the telephone. There was a pause as the caller explained what he
wanted.
"What!" Doctor Harvey sat bolt upright. The
telephone flex, already straightened out by the distance it had travelled, was
suddenly pulled taut, flicking the teacup onto the floor.
"Blast!" cursed Harvey. “Oh nothing,"
he explained to the caller. "I just spilled my tea."
He yawned and swung his legs off of the bed.
"Tell your colleague to meet me here," he informed the caller.
"It'll probably be quicker."
“Thank you, sir," replied Green, closing the
channel.
Captain Ochre's epaulettes flashed green.
“Go ahead Lieutenant," Ochre said as the Cap
Microphone dropped into piece.
“I have been in contact with Doctor Harvey,"
Green informed him. 'He suggests that you meet him at his house, Grid Reference
Four Two Seven Seven."
"S.I.G.," replied Ochre. "I'm very
close to that position now.”
Harvey stood up, put his feet into his slippers and
then winced. The tea he'd spilt had managed to land in one of them. Slowly, he
removed the offending slipper and up‑ended it into the cup. "It's
going to be one of THOSE days," he said to himself as a thin stream of
brown liquid trickled into the cup. He put the slipper down once more and
barefoot, went to his room to dress.
He'd been right. His wife hadn't understood. She'd banished him to the spare room. On the
other hand, she had brought him his
tea this morning, so perhaps she hadn't been as angry as she'd made out.
Captain Ochre arrived ten minutes later, the S. P. V
crunching noisily up the gravel drive to the doctor's house. Harvey was more
than a little surprised. He'd been expecting a jeep or some kind of saloon.
He was even more surprised to find that he was
expected to sit facing the rear of this strange looking vehicle. Still, he was
prepared to try anything once.
With the banging of the gavel, the babble of voices
was silenced. The assembled court rose as Kaufmann once more entered the
chamber.
"We have already heard the evidence for the
prosecution," the judge informed the Jury. "We will now hear the
evidence for the defence."
"For all the good It's going to do us,"
muttered Blue to himself as Colonel White rose slowly to his feet.
"Ladies
and Gentlemen of the Jury," White began, "It is with a heavy heart
that I find myself addressing you."
Grayson let himself relax in his seat. He knew that
White and his friends didn't stand a chance. Like a lamb to the slaughter...
"When I first became aware of the charges brought
against my colleagues and myself," said White, looking levelly at the
Jury. "I thought that some ghastly mistake had been made, a
misunderstanding that would soon be rectified. These thoughts, however, were
forgotten when not one, but two attempts were made on our lives."
"Objection!" Black had leapt to his feet.
"The Accused is making wild and uncorroborated claims."
"Objection sustained," replied Kaufmann.
"With respect sir," there was a noticeable
edge to the Colonel's voice. "The claims that I am making are neither wild
nor uncorroborated. As you, yourself, pointed out before the recess, two
defence counsels were appointed to us. The first, on being taken to Cloudbase,
turned out to be nothing more than a Mysteron..."
"Colonel White," Kaufmann's voice was like
ice. "Since you persist with this ridiculous fantasy about aliens, It is
clear that your evidence is inadmissible. You may stand down." There was a
murmur from the gallery.
“With respect, Sir," began White.
“That will be all, Colonel,” interrupted Kaufmann.
“Sit down."
The foreman of the Jury rose to speak, a worried frown
upon his face. A short, greying man in his fifties, who had served once
before as a juryman, many years before,
something about the day's proceedings worried him.
“Excuse me, your honour," he began, "I admit
that my knowledge of the law is rather more limited than your own and far be it
from me to impugn..."
“Yes, yes, what is it?" snapped Kaufmann testily.
‘This is definitely wrong,’ thought the Clerk of the
Court to himself, ‘The old boy had never been rude to a member of the Jury
before.’
"Well," said the foreman nervously. "I
would at least like to hear what the accused has to say. After all, If we are
to decide his fate..." The rest of the sentence was lost as the rest of
the Jury, as one, murmured their agreement, the murmuring grew louder as the
spectators is the gallery above agreed with him. Soon, it had increased in
volume, with "Quite right too" and "Let him be heard"
flying across the chamber.
"Silence!" Kaufmann roared, smashing his
gavel down on its block. He glared around the chamber as the hubbub died away.
"I WILL NOT tolerate this behaviour in this court. If there are any more
such outbursts, I shall have the chamber cleared and a new Jury
appointed."
"Yes," Blue whispered to Destiny. "A jury of 'yes' men.”
Calmly, White rose once more to his feet.
"Surely, there can be no harm in the truth,"
he said looking straight at Kaufmann. "If this is a fair hearing."
There was a note of challenge in his voice. The
Jury murmured its agreement.
Kaufmann knew he'd been beaten. "Very
well," he glowered. "You may continue."
Thank you," replied White. "Ladies and
Gentlemen of the Jury,” he began, turning to face them. "You are, no doubt
wondering why, when two separate counsels were appointed to us, I am standing
before you. The answer is simple. They were murdered, the second having eaten
food intended for Captain Blue and myself. As my first witness, I intend to
call Doctor Charles Harvey, the doctor who carried out the post mortem
examination."
Moments later, Harvey was ushered in, briefcase in
hand, a shock of tousled hair betraying his hurried journey.
Doctor Harvey," White began once the ritual of
oath‑taking had been completed. "You carried out the post‑mortem
examination on the late Mr Alexander Nielsen."
“That is correct, yes," replied Harvey.
"Would you please tell the court the cause of
death?"
Harvey opened his case and removed a sheaf of papers
and began to read: "The patient seemed to be showing a kind of Haemo‑"
“Briefly, please," White interrupted. "Just
the basic details."
Harvey stopped reading, and blinked. He'd put a lot of
effort into the report, now he was going to have to summarise it.
He took a deep breath. “The basic details," he said looking pointedly at White, "are
that the poor man was poisoned by a fast‑acting systemic poison."
"Exactly which poison was used?" asked
White.
Harvey frowned and rubbed his chin. "Ah, well,
that's the question. It matches no toxin known to medical science. Detailed
chemical analysis reveals very little, the computers were unable to identify
all the constituents."
"I see," replied White. "Can you tell
me the source of this poison?"
"That's simple," smiled Harvey. "His stomach
contents were absolutely laced with the stuff. He was killed by the food he'd
eaten."
White was not going to get caught in any loopholes:
"Exactly what food had he eaten?" he asked. "Was there any
chance that something he'd eaten before coming to see me had been
poisoned?"
"None at all," replied Harvey. "The
food samples taken from your cell were heavily contaminated. They were the
source of the poison."
"Thank you, doctor." Harvey smiled as he
stepped down from the witness box.
"So you see," White addressed the Jury.
"The man sent to defend us at this trial was an unwitting victim of an
attempt on the lives of Captain Blue and myself. However, this was the second
attempt to destroy us. For details of the previous attempt, I shall call Captain
Blue." Kaufmann glowered at White, but knew that there was nothing, as
yet, he could do.
Briefly, Blue covered the events leading up to the
meeting with Johanssen then, in greater detail, described the events on
Cloudbase. "...We finally trapped him behind a power conduit,"
finished Blue
"What happened then?" asked White.
"Captain Scarlet moved in whilst I kept Johanssen
talking," continued Blue. "I tried to reason with him but he just
told me that we were too late to save Cloudbase."
"Go on," urged White.
"We moved in on Johanssen to find his body
smoking in the same way as Captain Brown's," continued Blue. "I
cleared the room and left Captain Scarlet with Johanssen, his plan being to
shoot out the window and let the depressurisation carry Johanssen away from Cloudbase."
"What was the result of this action?" asked
White.
"Johanssen's body exploded several seconds
later," replied Blue. "If it hadn't been for Captain Scarlet's quick
thinking, Cloudbase would have been blown to pieces."
"What happened to Captain Scarlet?" asked
White.
“I guess he must have been blown out by the
decompression," replied Blue. "We found his body several miles away.”
“Thank you, Captain," said White. "You may
stand down.” Blue Quickly left the witness box.
White turned once more to face the Jury.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," he began.
"Before I call my next witness, I feel that you should be acquainted with
some facts. You have already seen that an attempt was made upon the life of the
World President by two Spectrum Officers. This is documented fact, which I do
not deny.”
“Is this relevant?" snapped Kaufmann. White
turned to face him.
“Yes, sir," replied White, "it is." He
turned once more to the Jury. “I admit, too, that I put Captain Brown in charge
of the operation," he continued. "However, the mission I gave the two
officers was to PROTECT the World President from assassination. I have since
learned that within minutes of my order reaching them, BOTH men were involved
in a fatal car crash.
The foreman of the Jury stood, a thoughtful expression
on his face.
“Excuse me Colonel," he interrupted. "Are
you telling us that the two men that attempted to kill the President were
impostors?"
"That is what we at first thought, yes,"
replied White. "However, what we later discovered was that their bodies
had been re‑created by the Mysterons."
“Are you saying that they had been brought back to
life?" the foreman was rather confused on this point.
“Yes," replied White. "But with one major
difference. They had no will of their own. They were mindless robots, used by
the Mysterons for their own ends. As you have already seen, their first attempt
to kill the World President involved turning the reconstructed Captain Brown
into a walking bomb."
“This is ridiculous!" retorted Kaufmann.
"But perfectly true," continued White,
ignoring the interruption. He continued: "As you have also seen, Captain
Scarlet was the other officer in the car. He too was killed in the crash."
Black rose to his feet. "My lord," he
protested. "This fantasy has continued for too long."
"I agree," replied Kaufmann. "What's
more, Colonel White, You have perjured yourself in open court. As you have
already seen, Captain Scarlet has given evidence to this court. Or," there
was a sneer in his voice, "are you claiming that he too is one of these
Mysterons? We have heard quite enough." He turned to the Jury.
"Members of the Jury," he began summing up. "You have
heard..."
The Clerk of the Court could not remain still any
longer. There was definitely something irregular going on.
"My lord," he began as he stood up, "I
have been Clerk of this court for many years and in all that time, there has
never been an occasion where the summing up has begun before both sides have
presented their respective cases, no matter how fantastic their stories might
seem. In fact, you, yourself‑"
Kaufmann turned on him: "Do you presume to tell
me how to conduct this trial?" he snapped angrily.
"N‑No sir," was the nervous reply.
"Then sit down. I will not have junior staff
telling me my business. I shall speak to you about this later." Quaking,
the unfortunate Clerk returned to his seat. There was no doubt about it, the
old boy was becoming decidedly arrogant. His wife and children must be going
through hell, the Clerk thought to himself.
Now the distraction was over, Kaufmann turned once
more to address the Jury: "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, You have
heard‑"
"NOTHING!" yelled Captain Blue, no longer
able to contain his anger at this travesty. "The Colonel hasn't been given
a chance to present his case." He turned to the Jury, to appeal directly
to them. "In the name of Justice, I ask you to at least hear him out. You
wanted to hear his evidence before."
The foreman thought for a moment, then sat down. The
other members of the Jury gathered around him. After several tense moments
of muttered discussion, the Jury
returned to their seats. The foreman stood once more.
"Your Honour," he began, "we agree with
the Clerk of the Court. We do not feel that we can' come to a just and fair
verdict unless we hear everything that the Colonel has to say."
He sat down amidst, a round of applause from the
Visitor's Gallery.
"Silence!" Kaufmann had to scream to make
himself heard above the commotion.
Finally, the noise faded away. Kaufmann conceded:
"Very well," he sighed. "You may continue."
Grayson frowned. It was proving to be more difficult
than he'd expected. He consoled himself with the thought that his enemies' fate
was already sealed. Try as they might, there would be no escape for them.
Colonel White continued: "As I was saying,
Captain Scarlet was killed in the car crash. The Mysterons created a double of
him, which they used to kidnap the World President."
He then went on to describe the gun‑battle at
the top of the London Car‑Vu and the subsequent events.
The members of the Jury looked incredulous at the
fantastic story that was being told.
Grayson saw the expressions and relaxed, White was
signing his own death sentence. His smile grew broader as White finished his
narrative.
"I therefore call my next witness," said
White. "Captain Scarlet."
The atmosphere was electric as the panelled door
opened to admit Scarlet. The figure moved to take his place in the witness box.
"Captain Scarlet," began White. "In
your own words, will you tell us what happened when Captain Blue brought Mr
Johanssen to Cloudbase?"
"Yes Sir," replied Scarlet. He told the
Court of the events leading up to the search and subsequent discovery of
Johanssen's body.
"What happened then?" asked White.
"I knew that we had to get rid of the body before
it exploded," replied Scarlet. "Since it would have taken too long to
use normal escape routes, I decided to blow out the window, the air pressure
doing the rest.”
"Go on,” encouraged White.
"When I blew the window," continued Scarlet,
"Johanssen and I were carried towards it. I managed to hold onto a
stanchion to stop myself from being blown out too. I was able to see the body
as it tell. It blew up just afterwards."
"What happened then?" asked White.
Scarlet thought for a moment. "I think I must
have passed out," he said slowly. "I remember regaining consciousness
in a mortuary..."
At that moment, there was a faint cry from the body of
the court and a figure stood up. "But you were left for me to..." said
Harvey, pointing at Scarlet.
For a moment, White was unable to recognise the
startled figure. Then he realised who it was. "Ah! Doctor Harvey," he
smiled. "Would you like to finish what you were saying?"
"I, er,
that is. No, I must be mistaken," stammered the doctor.
"Let me see if I can guess what you were going to
say," suggested White. "You were going to say 'you were left for me
to carry out a post‑mortem. Is
that correct?" Dumbly, the doctor nodded.
"And I suppose that when you came to carry out
the examination, the body had gone?"
Again, the doctor nodded. "I thought that someone
had moved it,” he said quietly.
He stared at Scarlet and shook his head slowly.
White decided to gamble: "Is the man standing in
the witness box the same man that you were asked to examine this morning?"
"He appears to be," replied Harvey
carefully. He could be locked up in a padded cell for less.
"And the body was dead?" asked White.
“Of course he was dead!" snapped Kaufmann.
"You don't carry out post‑mortems on living people."
White ignored him. "What was the presumed cause
of death?" he continued.
"Well,” replied Harvey, brightening. He was on
safer ground now. "I was told that it was a helicopter crash, but the body
appeared to be unmarked."
"Thank you," said White. “You may sit
down." Gratefully, Harvey returned to his seat.
“The evidence is inadmissible," snapped Kaufmann.
"He was not in the witness box." Captain Blue groaned.
White was not shaken. He addressed the Jury
directly. "If you remember, Doctor
Harvey has already taken the oath. Does it really matter where he gives his
evidence?"
The foreman thought for a moment. "No," he
said after a moment's thought. “I don't suppose it does.”
Kaufmann tried again. "How do we know that the
witness hasn't a twin brother who was killed?"
White turned to Scarlet. "Captain Scarlet.
Describe the room in which you found yourself,” ordered White.
When Scarlet had finished, White looked for Harvey.
“Doctor Harvey. Is that a correct description of your
laboratory?"
The reply was immediate: "Yes sir."
White turned to the Jury. 'So you see, Ladies and
Gentlemen of the Jury, an independent MEDICAL witness has confirmed the facts
about Captain Scarlet's amazing powers of recovery."
He turned back to Scarlet. "Will you please
continue Captain?"
The smile had disappeared from Grayson's face. He had
the first faint feelings that something, somewhere, had gone wrong.
Doctor Fawn looked for the umpteenth time at his
patient. He was relieved to see that the enormous stress seemed to have eased.
The heart rate seemed to have slowed too. When the President had been brought
in, it had been pounding fit to burst. He was just about to turn away when
patient stirred slightly. That was a good sign. Fawn now knew that the President
was in with a fighting chance.
“Thinking that I was a doctor,' continued
Scarlet, “The nurse led me to the World
President's room. The nurse had to leave for a few minutes and whilst she was
away, the President regained consciousness long enough for me to speak to
him."
Grayson frowned. There was definitely something wrong.
Scarlet actually seemed to be helping his Spectrum cronies.
He felt inside his jacket for the reassuring weight
that he know would be there.
“What exactly did the President say?" asked
White.
"At first, he was confused," began Scarlet.
"In fact he thought that I was someone else and had some sort of attack as
a result. When the attack passed, I asked him how long he had been having such
attacks. He couldn't remember. In fact, the most recent event he COULD remember
was the Bermuda conference, three months ago."
"Did you notice anything else?" asked White.
"Yes, sir," replied Scarlet. "I noticed
that the President had lost the hard quality from his voice. However, when I
asked him why Spectrum had been banned, he went into a trance."
"Did he say anything more?" White pumped,
trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
"Yes sir. He said: 'We have humoured these
deluded individuals in their castle in the air for far too long. It's time we
stopped their fantasies about Alien Attacks from Mars. "'
"What happened then? asked White.
"The President seemed to withdraw into
himself," replied Scarlet. "It was as if he'd been switched off.
Though he did seem to react to one word, but a visitor arrived and I had to
leave."
"I see," replied White. "Please
continue."
Grayson, worried now, felt inside his jacket once
more. The safety catch released with an almost imperceptible click.
"Why don't you turn on them?" he thought to
himself. "They must be destroyed, we must not fail."
Unaware of the drama in the court‑room, Doctor
Fawn had worries of his own. His patient was tossing from side to side and
murmuring to himself. He put his ear to the President's mouth, to catch the
muttered words.
The words were ‑frightening enough: "...destroyed ... must not fail,” but he felt a chill run down his spine
when he realised that instead of the President's gentle drawl, he was hearing
the familiar tones of Senator Charles Grayson.
Scarlet finished his story. He had omitted certain
information that he knew that the Colonel already knew.
"Thank you, Captain," said White. As Scarlet
left the witness box, White turned to the Jury.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," he
addressed them. "It is clear from
the evidence presented by the witnesses for the defence that..."
"You don't expect us to believe your story about
Captain Scarlet rising from the dead?" interrupted Kaufmann.
"Surely that's a matter for the jury,"
replied Blue
"But it's quite preposterous," retorted
Kaufmann.
"I would remind you that according to classical
aerodynamics," replied White calmly, "it is quite impossible for a
bumble bee to fly.”
Scowling,
Kaufmann subsided. The Colonel's logic had beaten him. There was a quiet chuckle from the visitor's
gallery as someone enjoyed the Judge's discomfiture.
White turned once more to the jury.
“I was about to say, it is clear that you have been
brought hare under false pretences. The events of the last forty‑eight
hours lead me to conclude that this whole trial was arranged as part of a plan
put the Spectrum organisation out of business, leaving tie Mysterons free to
wreak havoc on the earth. In the minds of those responsible, there was never
any intention that Justice, real justice, was to be carried out. We were to be
destroyed, using our own laws as the weapon."
There was a stir from the gallery. White ignored it
and continued: "The first attempt was to destroy Cloudbase, by means of a
booby p that substituted himself for our defence lawyer, Mr Nielsen. In the
attempt Captain Scarlet was killed and a Mysteron double was created, a double
that testified against his colleagues, using evidence that had been subtly
altered to tell a quite different story.”
Grayson stiffened. White was getting uncomfortably
close to the truth. Nervously, he felt
once more for the gun.
White continued: "When the World President
ordered Spectrum to cease operations, it was because it was necessary to the
Plan. He was just another tool, to be discarded when no longer required. If you
remember, Captain Scarlet told us that he found the President in a
disorientated state and so had been confused with someone else. By a strange
coincidence, that same person had visited the President soon after, the result
being that the President slipped into a coma. It has been patients in a coma
can still respond to certain stimuli, words or music perhaps. Captain Scarlet
found that stimulus. It was the name of the person that the President feared
and hated above all others, the person who had been controlling his mind for
the past three months.” The revulsion
was plain in White’s voice as he looked around the chamber for the one face he
knew would be there. White’s eyes
narrowed as he spotted his quarry. I
have you now, he thought.
He returned his attention to the Jury, sitting with
rapt attention.
“I should point out that no normal man would have been
able to accomplish what he did. But
then, you are no normal man, are you Senator?”
In a blur of speed Grayson reached for his gun. It was a good try, but not nearly fast
enough. With an ear-splitting whine,
the electron beam hit him square in the chest and Senator Charles Grayson, or
rather his Mysteron double, fell dead.
The clatter of his gun hitting the floor was the only sound to break the
shocked silence that had descended on the chamber.
Doctor Fawn was worried, nothing he did seemed to
help. For the last five minutes, the President had been deliriously tossing his
head from side to side and groaning. Spasms of pain wracked the tortured body.
Suddenly, he gave a scream of pain and then slumped back, gasping. Doctor
Fawn bent to examine his patient and was startled to see his eyes opening.
The look of pain had passed, but the President had a puzzled expression on his
face.
“What's going on? Where am l?" he asked weakly.
"You're safe, Mr President,” Fawn reassured him.
"You're in Cloudbase Sickbay."
The President tried to sit up then fell back onto the
bed.
"I feel as weak as a kitten," he said.
"I'm not surprised," replied Fawn checking
the President's vital signs.
"You've been very ill." Satisfied that his patient was well
enough, Fawn helped him to a sitting position.
"I feel so dizzy," said the President,
accepting the glass of water that Fawn offered him. A thought suddenly came to
him. 'Why am I in Cloudbase? Surely it would have been quicker to take me to
the local Hospital.”
"It's a long story..." began Fawn.
Carefully, Captain Ochre emerged from his hiding
place, the anteroom that he'd earlier discovered on the building plans.
"Whew! That was close," said Blue.
"Good shooting Captain," White congratulated
him, momentarily forgetting Kaufmann. That moment was enough:
"Nobody move!" the automatic in the Judge's
hand was small but wicked looking and aimed straight at Destiny Angel.
"You! drop the weapon." With a shrug of despair, Ochre put the
Electron Gun on the floor and kicked it away from him. He didn't dare risk
Destiny's life.
"Now raise your hands, all of you." Slowly,
the Spectrum officers obeyed Kaufmann's order.
As Doctor Fawn told his story, long hidden memories
surfaced. Oblivious now to the outside world, the events of the last three
months, until now, just a meaningless blur, became clear. At first, Grayson's
suggestions had seemed harmless enough but after a while, the President had
found himself giving orders that became increasingly hostile to all that he had
held dear. Soon he'd fallen down the slippery slope until the domination was
complete. He'd known that Grayson's orders were wrong, but he'd been totally
unable to resist. The memory of the death of the Spectrum agent made him feel
sick, but there had been nothing he could do to stop himself giving the order.
The grip on his mind had tightened until... Nothing. There was no recollection
at all of the last twenty‑four hours. He became aware that Fawn had
stopped speaking.
"Well I'm very grateful to you all, doctor,"
the President said, rather shakily. "In fact, I'd like to thank Colonel
White in person."
Hadn't he been listening? "Mr President,"
repeated Fawn. "I've just told you that the Colonel, Destiny Angel and
Captain Blue are currently standing in the main Halls of Justice, on trial for
their lives!"
"Stand together, all of you." The Spectrum
officers had no choice. They moved into the body of the chamber.
Idly, Blue glanced around the court‑room, searching for inspiration. He
started when he realised that apart from Kaufmann, Black and his colleagues the
chamber was deserted.
“Where is everyone?" he whispered to Destiny.
Black must have heard him. "They are no longer
necessary, Earthman."
This was the first time that Colonel White and
Captain, Black had come face‑to‑face since Black had taken command
of the Zero‑X. Since it had been the Colonel who had ordered him to take
charge of the mission, it was, he supposed, his fault that Black had been
reduced to this state. It therefore fell to him to do something to put things
right. He addressed his former colleague: "Captain Black. Why not come
back to Spectrum and let us try to help you."
“You're wasting your time Earthman," replied
Black, his voice dull, lifeless. White wouldn't give in that easily. Perhaps a
direct personal appeal...
“Captain Scarlet was taken over by the Mysterons too
but he managed to break free. Please let us try to help. After all, you were
only carrying out my orders."
All eyes were on Black. How would he react? For a
moment, it seemed that a flicker of recognition appeared in his eyes. He opened
his mouth to speak.
"I..." The voice was
no longer that of the Mysteron agent. It was that of Conrad Turner, Spectrum
agent. But before he could say another word, a brilliant light filled the
chamber. An all too familiar voice addressed them:
"EARTHMEN, WE ARE PEACEFUL BEINGS AND YOU HAVE TRIED
TO DESTROY US.
BUT YOU CANNOT SUCCEED.
YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND GUILTY OF CRIMES AGAINST THE
MYSTERONS AND ARE TO BE EXECUTED IMMEDIATELY."
"But listen!" pleaded Blue. The appeal went
unheeded. The Mysteron voice continued:
"THERE CAN BE NO APPEAL AGAINST THE JUDGEMENT OF
THE MYSTERONS.
WE SHALL CONTINUE THE WAR‑OF‑NERVES UNTIL
WE HAVE DESTROYED ALL LIFE ON EARTH
WE SHALL BE AVENGED".
The light faded. All eyes had been on the ceiling, the
apparent source of the light. They turned once more to Captain Black. All the
life had drained from his eyes. He turned once more to Kaufmann: "You know
what you must do," White sighed. It had been a good try.
Everyone turned their
attention to Kaufmann. From his position in his raised seat, he could shoot all
of them. To attempt to rush him would be futile.
Scarlet knew that there was
one chance. He took it.
Kaufmann saw the movement
and fired.
Scarlet's leap fell short,
the bullet in his chest knocking him to the floor, blood pouring from the wound
and staining the expensive carpet.
The others made to help
him, but Kaufmann's voice stopped them: "The next person to try any false
heroics will get the same."
The Spectrum Officers
returned their gaze to the Mysteron sitting above them.
Through pain‑misted
eyes, Scarlet could see his goal in front of him. Consciousness failing fast,
he reached for the familiar shape. His fingertips brushed, then grasped.
Slowly, ever more painfully, he pulled the object towards him. Knowing he had
seconds, he rolled onto his back and squeezed the trigger. He was aware of the
whine of the electron gun followed by a muffled thud then silence...
Lieutenant Green received
the message from the Television Studio and turned to the World President who
was sitting at Colonel White's desk.
“World Television are
standing by, sir," he informed him.
"Thank you
Lieutenant," replied the President. "I only hope we're in time."
He turned to the camera: "My fellow citizens of Earth," he began,
"I am speaking to you from Spectrum Headquarters, Cloudbase..."
Captain Blue looked up at
White. "He's dead, Colonel," he said sadly.
As soon as the ray from the
electron gun had destroyed the Mysteronised Kaufmann, Blue had rushed to help
the stricken Scarlet. But it had been too late, Scarlet had given his life to
save his colleagues.
"Well at least he
managed to destroy the Mysteron..." replied White.
A sudden thought occurred
to him. He turned to look for Captain Black. The Mysteron Agent had vanished.
White turned to Captain
Ochre: "Did you see where Captain Black went, Captain?"
"Well I know it sounds
crazy sir," began Ochre, still trying to comprehend what he had just seen.
"But Captain Black just seemed to vanish into thin air. I tried to grab
him but it was like trying to catch a shadow."
The Mysterons had no
intention of letting their agent be captured by Spectrum and had used their
powers to spirit him away.
Blue rose to his feet and
looked around the empty Chamber. 'What happened to the Jury?" he asked the
Colonel.
"I don't know
Captain," replied White.
“One thing’s for certain,”
remarked Ochre, a former member of the World Police Corps. "Without Judge
or Jury you can't have a Court case.”
“He’s got a point,
Colonel," added Blue. "But what about the ban?"
“We’ll deal with that
later," replied White decisively. "Captain Ochre, contact Cloudbase
and arrange for them to pick us up."
“S.I.G. Sir,” replied
Ochre. At that moment, his epaulettes
flashed green and his microphone dropped into position.
“Talk of the devil!"
smiled White.
“Go ahead Lieutenant
Green," acknowledged Ochre.
“The world President has
recovered consciousness," announced Green, “and is currently making a
World Television broadcast from Cloudbase.”
"What's he talking ,
Lieutenant?" asked White into Ochre's microphone.
"I think it would be
better if you heard for yourself, Colonel," came the faint reply. There
was a momentary pause and then the President's voice could be faintly heard:
“... and with immediate effect, all charges against the Spectrum
organisation are to be dropped."
Some hours later, a
conference was called.
“Members of Spectrum,"
began White, surveying the gathered faces before him. "Together, we have
confronted the gravest threat yet to Spectrum's existence.
“It is still not clear
exactly how Senator Grayson was able to exert so much influence over the
President, but Doctor Fawn tells me that the control was released when Grayson
was killed. We can only assume that he was being used as a channel by the
Mysterons.
“Doctor Fawn has also confirmed
that Captain Scarlet will recover completely within a few days." He
noticed Destiny's gentle smile.
“However," he added sternly, "I shall reprimand Captain
Scarlet for disobeying my direct order and risking Cloudbase." There was,
however, a slight twinkle in his eye that told Destiny that, on the other hand,
the reprimand just might be forgotten.
White was interrupted by a
visitor. "Ah, Mr President!" he smiled.
"I just thought that
I'd look in before I left, Colonel,* said the President. "To pass on my
thanks and congratulations to you all.”
There were murmurs of
appreciation from the gathered officers. The President paused for a moment, as
if deep in thought.
"I do have something
of a problem, though. Now that Senator Grayson is dead, there is no‑one
to stand in the elections. I was wondering if perhaps YOU might consider the
job. I assure you that I'd give you all the assistance you might need."
Colonel White seemed to be
at a loss for words: "I, ah, that is...”
“I think the Colonel's
trying to say that he's rather busy," ventured Blue, coming to his
commander's rescue.
"Er, yes, yes,"
blustered White, beginning to regain his composure. "Thank you, all the same, sir, but I have enough to do
keeping the Mysterons at bay."
"Ah well," the President
smiled. "It was just a thought."
Ochre excused himself, he
had been detailed to fly the President home, and escorted him to the waiting
Passenger Jet.
As the footsteps faded away
down the corridor, White returned his attention to the conference.
“Captain Grey," he
said picking up a piece of paper from the desk in front of him. "I think
you might find this of interest."
“What is it sir?"
asked Grey curiously.
"The bill for
re-spraying one Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle," replied White. He showed the
total to Grey, who whistled in disbelief.
"Normally," White
continued, "the costs of such a deliberate defacement of Spectrum
equipment would be deducted from your salary." Then the Colonel smiled.
"However, under the circumstances..." With that, he tore the bill
neatly in half.
His smile faded when he
noticed Blue's thoughtful expression.
"Is something wrong,
Captain?"
"I was just thinking
of Captain Black, Colonel," replied Blue. "For a moment, in the court‑room,
it seemed as it the his real personality was about to break free from the
Mysterons."
“Yes, Captain,"
replied White. "He was a good officer. Perhaps some day we'll find a way
to help him."
The navigation lights of
the giant structure known as Cloudbase blinked into life once more as the golden
disc of the setting sun sank gently below the horizon, marking the end of
another day.
The next attack might come
tomorrow, perhaps in six months, but until the Mysterons called off the War of
Nerves, Spectrum would be waiting.
THE
END
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