By Valuth
I wrote this story fairly early on.
While not part of 'Uniform' per se, some parts mentioned refer to
situations that have occurred in 'Uniform' so far.
Opening his eyes, he turned on the
light. He couldn’t sleep right now. As much as he wanted to, and probably needed
to, he just couldn’t. He got up from the bed and walked over to his desk,
removing an unmarked file from the top drawer, then lay the file on the desktop.
Sitting down, he opened the much handled folder. Inside were a group of news
clippings and several official reports. He looked at several of the newspaper
clippings first. “Teens Save Airliner”, “Duo Subdues Terrorists”, then
there was her favorite, “Cop and Teen Subvert Terrorists”. He had to
chuckle over that one as well. He hadn’t been a cop then, just getting ready to
enter the WGPC academy in London. Who would have thought one little trip would
have caused so much of an upheaval?
Putting the clippings to one side
he found the report and gazed at it. It was the closing file of a yearlong
investigation that had everyone jumpy about flying all over again. He had
managed to get hold of a copy from the archives when he was Chief Detective.
Reading it made him realize they had been incredibly lucky, and the terrorists
on the plane incredibly susceptible. He pulled out the main report out to peruse
it.
******
Dat file submitted by Detective
Adam McLeod August 15, 2054. Flight 173. File number Z33240-15.
After reviewing reports and talking
with persons closely involved (List is appended) with Flight 173, it has been verified that four(4) Port
Guavan nationals tried to take over Flight 173(Pan Delta) from New York to
London in an attempt to promote
dissention in the still consolidating British Admission to the World Government.
Since no physical weaponry was detected at New York, through security checks or
otherwise, it must be assumed that weaponry was somehow planted on the plane by
persons unknown with access or ground crews on shift at the time, or at a
preceding destination. ( Ground crew lists have proved inconclusive. All
personnel accounted for and have since cleared of any wrongdoing. The flight
crew assigned to flight 173 has also been cleared of collusion. Previous
destinations have also produced little results.)
Since regulations for taking
certain contraband objects on flights( 9/11 Banned Materials Policy), security
has been enforced to the utmost until this event. Subsequent investigations as
to how the weapons were slipped past has brought even stiffer rules on objects
taken to inner cabins of the planes themselves. Evaluation personnel have added
almost 100 items to the original list.
All have concurred as to the fact
that the terrorists did intent to fly the jet into Buckingham Palace. Some
observations are sketchy however, as to the extent of the two teens involvement
and how it was accomplished that the plane was returned to the hands of the
flight crew. Several have suggested that medications were involved( this has
subsequently been partially established) but not as to how it was done.
What has been proven in that the younger of the two, Lady Charlyne Westlake, has
some knowledge about drugs and what can be accomplished with them. This
information was validated by the fact that the mother is a research scientist
and so would indicate that the teen was not using illegal drugs, just had a
knowledge of drugs in general, through an interest in her parents' work. It has
been confirmed that the terrorists did consume some liquids (it would appear
that it was water) brought to them by the afore mentioned teen, under pretext of
assisting the terrorists in their goals. However, no indication of consumption
of the drugs has been accounted for.
The elder of the teens,
Richard Fraser, was subsequently able to help move the terrorists out of sight
of other members of the terrorist party and incapacitate them further. As with
prior events, how this was accomplished also remains uncertain. None of the
terrorists was killed or harmed in any way, something that has even WGPC
officials involved with this investigation stymied. What information that has
come to light has stated that the two were able to contain the lesser important
guards, but it was Fraser himself who managed( this part has not been confirmed
as to how) to miss being shot and take the leader of the terrorists to the floor
of the cabin. Those around did hear an odd noise( hissing) but had no idea what
it was. It was thought that it might be a pressure leak in the cabin. This was
dismissed after a thorough examination of the plane. The leader was able to
eject Fraser from on top of him and able to rise to his feet before starting to
scream something in his native tongue. Translations from an in cabin recorder
have proved useless. One word was being repeated over and over, that being
dragonbreath?(Translation
has since been confirmed at this time.) Fraser was unhurt in the altercation,
although several people thought he did look a bit dazed. Blood did appear on his
shirt, possibly from the terrorist, again, this has not been confirmed. After
the plane was secure and both teens were able to relax, it was noted that Lady
Westlake was talking to Fraser in low tones and he did look pale, tired and
still dazed. He did seem to have some kind of injury at that point from reports
of passengers around them. Physical examination later that day showed him in
excellent health albeit exhausted from the flight itself. Testing of the blood
from the shirt was inconclusive since both Fraser himself, and the terrorist
leader have the same blood type, O positive.
The leader was subsequently bound
and placed in the lower galley with his associates. All seemed completely out of
sorts when taken from the plane and their leader was still repeating undefined
word in his own tongue. When all had recovered from whatever was done to them
there was no trace of any drugs of any kind in their systems. Blood tests
themselves proved negative. Effects had lasted approximately five(5) hours.
Terrorists themselves had no recollection of what had happened after they
had taken control of the jet. Checking with toxicologists has verified there
are no drugs at this time that can accomplish this, singularly or
combined unless the terrorists
themselves were allergic to whatever was given them. Chances of this being the
case of all four is relatively nil. Residual traces of drug( If indeed there was
one) would have been in their blood as long as five hours or longer.
In talking with the two, we found
there was no relationship prior to their meeting on the plane. Both have
confirmed the other's participation and what they had been able to do to the
terrorists, but one odd item was found in their written reports. Both denied
giving drugs to the terrorists, yet there were odd looks passing back and forth
between the two when questioned together. Separately their stories remained the
same with no deviations being noticed. Moments of agitation were observed in
both, yet attributed to the natural nervousness of anyone being confronted by
police. It was also assumed Fraser's agitation might have been due to the fact
he thought his further admission to WGPC was in jeopardy. Reassurance was given
at the time that this would not be the case (Commendation subsequently awarded
for courage under fire.) Lady Westlake’s might have also been attributed to the
fact that her behavior might not be considered acceptable with her grandfather(
Lord Robert James Gray, Earl of Warbrook). One thing was later discovered was
that both had been protecting an older gentleman in the same row as them,
identification finally revealed as Sir Malcolm Metcalfe, Ambassador to Canada
(Lady Westlake’s grandfather).
September 12, 2054
It has been bandied about by some
WGPC personnel that both teens seem suited for this kind of life. Opinions of
Fraser have some allusions he won’t be at the bottom of the pile for very long.
He seems to have found his niche. From my own observations of him at Heathrow
and at the training facility on subsequent occasions, he is going to be one to
watch. As to Lady Westlake, she also seems suited for a life in this field or in
the military. My own opinion is I don’t believe she is called to be one of the
minor nobility. In addition, it seems the two of them have struck up a further
friendship since the aborted takeover attempt of the flight.
******
Grinning, Richard Fraser wondered
if McLeod ever knew how much of a friendship they had developed. No, he hadn’t
stayed at the bottom for long. Three years in England had accomplished that.
When he had come back to the States, he had been assigned to his old stomping
grounds in Detroit briefly, then transferred to Chicago after another promotion.
It all seemed so long ago, but he still remembered that flight vividly. Charlie
even agreed they had been lucky. They could have both been killed. He looked at
the news clipping once more and grinned at how young they had looked, even with
his beard at the time he still looked too young. Charlie though,
looked just the same. He ran his finger over one of the pictures of them
together.
Since that time they had both
bounced back and forth to events special to one or the other, Charlie coming to
his commissioning ceremony three years later, and the dance after. No-one
thought she was a teenager that night. Some of his fellow graduates even tried
to get dates with her, unsuccessfully of course. She had shown little interest
in anyone but him that night. The WGPC had even presented her with a civilian
award for her participation in the flight 173 event, and one of the Detective
Commanders suggested she might find a job there later if she so desired.
Later, when she had gone to the
Royal Military College in Canada, he had participated in her ceremonies. They
had looked a bit odd that night, both in dress uniforms, his, the WGPC, hers,
the WAAF. His favorite remark of hers that night had been giving thanks the
uniforms didn’t clash. They had spent a quiet evening enjoying the party and he
had seen her to her barracks before he left for his hotel, then back to Chicago
the following day.
One thing they had never stopped
from day one was playing chess. He figured that they had each won half of all
the games played. His game had improved to where he could almost beat her a
great deal of the time. They sent their messages through computer, by e-mail,
instant messenger, delayed messages, even on the phone a couple times. They had
still worked their schedules around so they could meet.
When she had gone out to Cold Lake,
they had still met, the most recent occasion had been when he had been promoted
to Detective Commander. She had come especially for that event, seeing as the
party was in his honor. He grinned about her asking what color the newest dress
uniform was and telling her, she had arrived in the most stunning golden gown he
had ever seen. Her brother Ian had come with her and had promptly gotten himself
lost in the crowd after handing her over to him. They talked almost all the
night, on the dance floor and off, pausing when some reporters had weaseled
their way into the party and accosted them. She had spoken a few words with them
and when they had quizzed her about things she was doing in the States she had
simply stated she was visiting some friends. What noone had seen was her hand in
his and the squeeze she had given him when she'd said 'friends'. One of the
reporters asked what their relationship was and gotten thumped on the head by
another reporter who told the poor guy who they were. They had both laughed over
it and walked away.
The next day at the airport, he
figured that had been the turning point and had started checking out rings right
after. When he found the perfect ring he figured he would go to Cold Lake and
see her on her birthday and propose. She turned the tables on him and had been
planning on coming back for his birthday eleven days before hers. She had
managed to pull her leave so they could spend both birthdays together. Her
birthday present to him had left him weak in the knees. His proposal was
accepted and the night had been a wonderfully long one. They definitely had been
running on adrenalin the next day. The remaining days were spent together and
when she had headed back to the base at Cold Lake, he was already missing her.
A month later the letter from the
World Government had arrived. That had been the most trying time for him. He
couldn’t tell her, not then at any rate, he wanted to talk to the Colonel about
them first. There had been another awards ceremony; she had once more come to be
his date that night, both of them starting to make more permanent plans. She’d
gone back to arrange her transfer, but something had come up after she had
gotten back to Cold Lake. He hadn't been able to get hold of her, her brother
Ian couldn’t tell him much except that she had gone to do some climbing. Some
kind of an emergency had arisen and she had been called in to help because of
her SAR qualifications, Ian had explained. As it happened, the next day came the
declaration for him to ‘vanish’. It had been the worst timing imaginable. He was
told what would happen and given information on a private jet waiting at the
airport for him. While on the flight, he had felt a ‘shock’ run through his body
and realized that Charlie now thought him dead. He sat through the rest of the
trip desperately wishing he had told her. The entire trip had been a blur.
Upon his arrival in Sydney, he was
given a car and told to take a roundabout route to Koala Base. During the drive,
he felt like he was being watched. He had stopped several times, and never seen
another car, plane, copter, or other vehicle. Just before he reached an
overnight stay, he had heard a cry and jammed on the breaks of the car. Looking
around, he saw her in the car, completely dressed in white. He tried to talk to
her, but she looked at him, not comprehending. The only thing he felt he could
do was show her some sign language he knew and pray.
At his stop over, he watched his
‘funeral’ on TV and almost fell off his chair when he saw her. She had dressed
for him, he knew. He recognized her clothing. He breathed a deep sigh of relief
that she was okay. Suddenly, she had made the same sign he had made in the car.
Smiling he knew she had understood. Now all he had to do was find where
the heck she had disappeared to.
When he had seen her at Koala, he
almost didn’t recognize her. She had definitely changed and he believed he had
had a great deal to do with it. Up until that night he had no idea she knew
Captain Scarlet, but finding out he was the kid at the airport from so long ago
threw him. Her reaction in dealing with Leader had frightened him. Of
course her being 'killed' had hurt. The idea of being so close and not getting
the chance to talk more, then finding out she had been faking had both had him
on his knees in relief, and worried what would happen next.
A brief discussion in her room, when he had gotten the picture had
proven she was overjoyed to see him, and for that he had given silent thanks.
The spontaneous joke on Paul on Cloudbase had them both laughing at the look on
his face. The whole thing had been perfection, then he'd almost started laughing
again when she'd sent him a mental image of a hedgehog in a red tunic, choking.
She disappeared again only sending him a note where to come on his next leave.
When she had come to the gate of the military base, they had gone to her
quarters and continued their talks for almost two days more, over a chessboard
this time making some more serious plans, to rebuild their relationship, and
eventually to get married. From what he had seen of his soon to be
mother-in-law, their eloping had been the best thing they had ever done. Funny
as it seemed, only the Colonel had known exactly what they were going to do,
showing up to give the bride away. Charlie hadn't been surprised so he had
thought she had made him aware of
events. He knew she was very fond of the Colonel.
Ah well, things were still
happening and she finally made it to Cloudbase. He rubbed his eyes. She should
be back soon. The assignment wasn’t a serious one. If anyone would keep her safe
it was Paul, but then he knew what shenanigans she might try and pull. He leaned
back in his chair and closed his eyes. Six more hours then he was on duty in the
radar section. Boring. He groaned to himself.
The door to their quarters opened
and she entered, tossing her cap onto the desk. He grinned as she leaned over
him and gave him a quick kiss. His hand went to her waist.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,
Captain,” she gently admonished.
“I know that, Lieutenant. Something
just wouldn’t let me sleep, however,” he replied, pulling her onto his lap,
returning her kiss with one with more substance to it.
“Hmm and what was that, might I
ask?” she questioned. He observed a slight wince from her.
“Oh, you know how it is, a bit of
jet lag, having to file some reports, wondering if that first assignment would
go okay,” he replied with a grin.
“So you read the file again?” she
asked looking at the desk, and glancing at the picture closest to him.
“Sure. It’s highly entertaining. I
don’t think they will ever figure it out,” he said.
“Someone will. How can you not
figure out telepathy?” she chuckled.
“Well, if Detective McLeod
couldn’t, then I doubt anyone will,” he remarked.
“Well I know I want a shower and
then I plan on getting some sleep. Hasn’t anyone ever considered changing our
vests to something similar to flack jackets? Much more practical and a bit more
protection. I don’t like seeing Paul getting shot. I know I should be used to
it, seeing as I know what will happen, but come on,” she said. “A little
more protection can’t hurt.”
“How bad?” Rick now asked.
“Severed the spinal column. He
should be up and dancing in about five hours. He was a bit cranky though,” she
said. “I think some of the guys in the Mess were putting on half a cow for him
to eat. I sure wish I could do that, and not gain an ounce.”
“You and all the Angels. So it was
nothing serious though? What about you?” he asked.
“No, nothing serious. I got winged
though. Doctor Fawn was busy with Paul, so Mat fixed me up and told me, to tell
you, to tie me to the bed so I don’t go to the gym,” she chuckled. “When did you
two start ganging up on me?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s doing
that on his own. Lets see your arm,” he instructed.
He undid her vest and dropped it on
the chair then he helped remove the jacket gently. Once he could see the wound,
he looked at her. She winced slightly as he touched near it.
“Better wrap it if you’re going to
have a shower. You know how cranky they get if you have to change them too
often.” He chuckled. “Or do you want me to help you?”
“How about you get into bed and get
some sleep. I won’t be that far behind you,” she replied.
“Hey, one thing I’ve been meaning
to ask someone. Maybe you can tell me,” he said grinning.
“What?” she asked, as she slipped
out of her uniform and lay it out for the next day. She just knew he was going
to try and zing her.
“Why is it that your uniforms look
so good on you and the other female agents and ours don’t?” he said with an
innocent grin.
“Whoever your tailor is just
doesn’t understand we like to see cute butts. Tell them that the next time you
get a uniform and pray that you don’t get a pair of pants like mine,” she
cracked back. “Of course that would show off things a bit better. Hmmm.”
“Charlie!”
“Well you asked,” she said laughing
as she went into their bathroom.
“I should never have asked. I’ll
kill Pat for that”, he groused.
She poked her head back out.
“Oh if it’s him, in his case its
called flat butt. Nothing will improve that. Ever,"
she snickered.
“Hey! Who told you that you could
look?”
“I’m not touching him, I’ve only
looked. I used to check out the Team as well. Flight coveralls conceal too much.
Dress uniforms now… merrowf!” She teased playfully, giving him a hard
look. “Oh if you're going to think like that I'll just sleep on the couch. You
know what I really love to check out Fraser.” Her voice husky.
“Would you stop that!” he
complained, flushing.
“You’re the one broadcasting. I can
only ‘hear’ your thoughts if you are,” she chuckled. “Want me to teach you how
not to broadcast?”
“Its just you that can hear it
right?” he asked dubiously.
“Far as I know, yup,” she replied
retreating to the shower.
He heard the water and lay back in
the bed and tried to get comfortable. Just as he found a good spot, he felt an
overwhelming desire to check the alarm times on the clock. He had to turn over
to look and heard her giggle again. She'd been 'influencing' him again.
“That is so not nice,” he
called out.
“You weren't asleep.”
“No, but that's beside the point.”
“Well you’re closer than I am
aren’t you?”
“But I was comfortable,” he
complained.
He heard her chuckle once more and
closed his eyes, He finally heard the water being turned off and snuggled down
under the blankets a bit. He heard her brushing her hair and then heard her hit
the light panel to turn out the lights. The faint rustle of her pajamas
indicated she was by the bed. Moments later, she was in bed herself and getting
comfortable. Opening his eyes sleepily, he looked at her just as she yawned.
“Rest for you now,” he said.
“Uh huh,” she relied, closing her
eyes. “Just make sure you get some sleep too. They don’t need you running on
nerves again.”
“I have never run on nerves and you
know it,” he pouted.
“Uh huh, suuuuure. What about
Koala? When did you get any sleep?”
“I slept when you did. I promised
I’d be there and I was, right?” he groused, cuddling up to her.
“Yep, you were,” she said dreamily,
snuggling close to him, her face resting against his throat.
“Charlie?”
“Mmm?”
“Nite Sweetheart,” he whispered, in
her ear, then closed his eyes.
2002
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