---

SNAFU Part 30

by Angharad

This is a work of fiction any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is unintentional.

*****

Cairo is about two hours ahead of GMT, which meant it was eleven o clock there when the computer picked up activity on a middle eastern web site. We saw a group of masked, heavily armed men standing around three others. The three were blindfolded and obviously restrained. They also looked drugged or injured.

I began to tune into them. I was hoping to remote view then astral travel to them, try and cause some sort of distraction and also give a signal to the circling helicopters. However, because the men were barely conscious, I couldn’t tune in strongly enough to locate them.

Time; being of the essence; meant I didn’t have time to try and douse their whereabouts from a map. Without their vibes; it might not be very accurate anyway. Things were looking as if I had made a bit of a ‘SNAFU’. How was I going to find them?

Then it occurred to me, that if energy can travel down phone lines to give us pictures on our computers, what would happen if I tried to reverse the process. It would have to be, a very gentle effort or the delicate electronics would blow. On a bad day; I simply had to look at a computer and it would crash. I prayed this was not a bad day.
I asked Don to lock the door and to just stand guard. I sat in front of the computer and imagined a small part of me acting like a minute energy bolt entering the computer and following back the messages which were incoming.

It felt very strange. It was like a ghostly fish swimming against a strong tide. I had to keep concentrating, so as not to overdo the energy but maintain a contact with it.
I reached the ISP we were using. That was easy compared to the next stage. I now had to trace the incoming message I wanted from probably a thousand others also using the same computer bank.

I was feeling despair at the size of the task, when I got lucky. On about the eightieth I tried; I found what I wanted and set off again. This was going to happen several times. It was a very long shot. But I was giving it my all.

Then the worst possible thing happened. I was distracted. “Jesus Jamie, the other lot said they’re gonna kill John.”

Suddenly I was back in the room. “Don, please I need you to keep quiet.”

“But Jamie, they said they were going to kill the Brits.”

“I heard you. I need to finish what I started. Then I’ll see what I can do for John. If they wake him up, I can find him. If they don’t; I really don’t know what I can do.”
Once more I set off through the computer, there was banging on the door, and shouting from without. I continued, saying to Don,” If anyone comes through that door, shoot them.”

“What?” He asked in alarm.

“Tell Bell that if he doesn’t piss off now, I shall implement him in the failure to save the Americans. I’ll destroy his career. Tell him you’ll shoot him if that doesn’t work.”
I started again, ignoring the noise from the door; I managed to get back to the ISP and onto the link I’d found earlier. Thankfully, it was still the same. I began to trace it back.

Another ISP, more permutations to check out. The thought occurred to me, “What if they’re using a radio connection somewhere along the line?” Then I realised they couldn’t because, the Americans or Brits would pick up the signal and home in on them. At least that was what I believed.

On I journeyed, my ethereal fish swimming against an electronic tidal wave. Another ISP; another frantic search. In some ways I was beginning to get feel for the energy, so I was easier to track. What I didn’t know, was if I’d be in time or if my scheme would work.

After what felt like an age, I felt the energy was growing stronger. I felt myself projected into the laptop and camera in the room in which the acts were being filmed. Now I had to increase my power, in doing so I deliberately crashed the laptop.
The terrorist operating the camera noticed and called the other to stop and wait until he fixed it. The other refused, saying to film the murder, or ‘execution’, as he called it and send it later.

Bugger! He wasn’t supposed to do that. I had no choice now other than to try and damage the digicam. I concentrated my energy on this and just as he was brandishing a large knife at the throat of the US soldier; I blew the camera.

That bought me some time, now how do I get a signal to the waiting helicopters. I wasn’t strong enough to manifest one of my girls on a building I’d not seen. I was aware that I had caused chaos in the terrorist camp. The would be executioner was shouting abuse at the camera operator. Then I noticed one of them was wearing a mobile phone on his belt. I had a thought.

I began to imagine it calling another mobile, in this case John’s. Amazingly, it did, or at least his voice mail. Now all I had to do was send a Morse message of ‘lioness’ and keep repeating it. Morse is no longer used as a signalling language, but most radio operators in the military or intelligence services would recognise it. I was sending pulses into the phone. In the continuing melee which was happening, none of them noticed his phone was on. “Please be monitoring for this and get a fix on it.” I prayed to no one in particular.

In a large aircraft flying miles away, and at the GCHQ monitoring service at Cheltenham in England, someone picked up a signal. “Sir, I think I’m getting the word ‘Lioness’. It’s in Morse and very faint. Could be a mobile.”

“Lioness. Jesus, that’s the signal. Get on to the Yanks, we need to triangulate and track it.”

In the giant Boeing aircraft flying somewhere over the middle east; loaded with tons of electronic monitoring equipment; a similar scenario was being acted out. It was also happening on board a Royal Navy frigate cruising in the Gulf. In two minutes a bearing was found and shared between the collaborating nations. Seconds later, three helicopters loaded with marines and Egyptian special forces were heading for their target.

Just then the owner of the phone realised it was switched on. He listened, it was on but nothing was audible. He shrugged his shoulders and switched it off. Alas for him, it was too late. Nemesis was on its way! Finally, they got the camcorder to work at about the same time the stun grenades came through the door.

I withdrew back to London. In a dreamlike state, I asked Don what was happening with John. “We don’t know anything, it’s gone quiet.”

I was exhausted, but I had to try again. I imagined I was swimming in those grey, limpid pools. Bathing in his love for me and mine for him, I kept telling him, “I love you, hang on in there; I’m trying to find you. Help me to help you.”

In the dark recesses of mind; I thought I heard him calling back. Imagination or wishful thinking? Then it happened again. “I’m here. I love you too Jamie. I’m here.”
I began to tune in. It was dark. He must be blindfolded. I tried to tune into his bodily senses. He was lying on his side, his arms were hurting, they were tied behind his back. His chest hurt, quite badly. Had he been shot or stabbed?

I felt my own chest racked with pain, breathing was difficult. I needed help fast. I felt tears roll down my face. He was hurt, and quite badly. He was in pain and growing weaker. “Hang on there.” I sent to him.

Where was he? I switched to remote viewing. It was difficult because he was so weak; but I had some sort of link. I focused on the map of Cairo and projected myself above its streets. Helicopters were still quartering the skies. I concentrated on the buildings below. Cairo is an enormous place. It wasn’t there when I had lived in Egypt before, several millennia before. Now it was a dirty, noisy, smelly but thriving city.

I floated above it, trying to zero in on the weak signals John was sending me. I was half despairing and half hoping. I had to keep positive, but I was tired and he was hurt. Between us, not the best combination. I felt his energy fading, then it stopped.

“Oh no.” I heard myself scream a thousand miles away. Then I picked up the signal again, it was closer. I focused my whole being upon it and pinpointed it to one block. The signal grew weak and began to fade again. I noticed the name of a shop next door and tried to come back to my body. The way was blocked.

“How nice of you to come home.” Said Harriet. “Come back to die have you?”

I could barely answer her; I felt so weak. I wanted to ask her to allow me to save John and she could do what she wanted with me, but I knew I would be wasting what breath I had left.

“What a pity it’s dark; you can’t call up your little helper, Re.”

“It doesn’t become you to blaspheme.” I managed to hiss at her.

“What are you going to do about it? Send for Sekhmet? Ha! What a joke. Sekhmet the destroyer!. Ha, so where is she? Doesn’t she do nights?” She continued to mock me.

“By Osiris, your mockery will bring you pain. Be careful about whom you jest and blaspheme.”

“Save your warnings for babies and weak souls like yourself. We are in the kingdom of my master now. His Lordship Set. I am his servant and I know he will be glad to see the back of you. I hope he will let me tear out your soul and eat it, like those horrid felines of yours do with his human helpers.”

“I don’t believe you.” I wanted to make her angry. “I think you are far more likely to be a servant of shit.”

“Ho ho, very funny for a dead woman.”

“But I’m not dead Harriet. It’s you who is that, and will remain so, but only for eternity or longer.”

I felt her dark energy come closer, its iciness was horrible. “It is you who will soon be dead for all eternity.”

“We’ll be together will we?” That was a prospect beyond all horrific descriptions.

“No; in destroying you I shall ask Set to redeem me and set me free again.”

“If I have angered him anything like as much as you say, he’ll be very cross if you kill me before you tell him.”
“You may have a point there. You will stay here. I shall consult my master and return.” She disappeared. It wouldn’t be for long, I was so tired. It looked as if I was going to die. In desperation I sent one of my girls to comfort John. Or I tried to. Then things went black.

Apparently, my last effort was granted by the gods and a lioness walked through a street and into a house watched by an astonished Egyptian policeman. Moments later he heard shots fired and called up reinforcements. There was a short gun battle as the authorities realised they had found the British captives. They were both badly injured but still alive, as were their captors. The shots were fired at the lioness. I had saved him, sadly I didn’t know this, I was unconscious.

My earthly body fell off the chair and Don could find no vital signs. Then he heard the cheer from outside the door. He opened it, they saw me lying on the floor, and despite his protests not to touch; they carried me off in an ambulance.

In Cairo, John was rushed into surgery. He had been shot. While under the anaesthetic he slipped out of his body. His vitals crashed and they fought to restore them, but he was looking for me.

The first rays of the sun were breaking the darkness of the sky as Harriet came back to kill me. She was almost drunk with the prospect. Instead of just me lying there she found me and a man bent over me.

“Who are you? Stand away from her.”

“Who are you?” Replied the man.

“I am her executioner.” She replied. “I have waited nearly three thousand years to do this.”

“Why?”

“Because she betrayed me.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replied, “Jamie is the most honest and loyal person I know.”

“She wasn’t Jamie then.”

“I don’t believe you.” He continued to stand between us. “Come on girl,” He whispered to me, “Send in one of those pussycats to sort her out.”

“Leave us now or die.” She had decided to get tough.

“Make me.” Replied John, sounding like a defiant schoolboy.

“You don’t know with whom you quarrel,” she spat at him.

Back in the ambulance Don was crying, his tears dripping onto my lifeless body. He reached across and held the statuette of Sekhmet. “Lot of good this did her.” He said to the paramedic. “Come on you bitch, help her,” he said to the statuette.

The first rays of sunlight reached into the operating theatre and onto the body of John Anderson. Just as he was about to be squelched by Harriet, some stronger force pulled him back into his body. He felt pain, excruciating pain; but his heart started and he began to breathe.

Around the neck of my ethereal body, was an ethereal statuette which Harriet had not noticed. A weak ray of sunlight fell upon it and I felt consciousness return to me. I was weak but alive; at least on the astrals I was. Another ray of light fell upon the statuette, then another and another. Energy was surging back into me. Would it be in time?

I felt the coldness as Harriet approached me. “Prepare for eternity.” She said as she came towards me.

She leant over me and I smelt her cadaverous breath. “By Osiris you need a good toothpaste.” I said, sitting up and firing a bolt of light at her.

“What ?” she screamed as I felt my physical size increase and the now strengthening sun powered up my solar disk.

“You have blasphemed me once too often. Take this to your master.” I felt the words reverberate from me followed by a bolt of light which would have melted a battleship. She disappeared in a flash, quite literally.

I felt the pain of the re-entry of my spirit into my body. It had been placed in a mortuary, in a cool drawer awaiting post mortem. God; it was cold. Upon recovering consciousness I began to shiver, then as my limbs began to regain some movement, I began to kick and bang on the sides of the drawer. No one seemed to come for ages. When they did, I’d nearly died from hypothermia.

I came to in a hospital bed. “I have never known an adult recover consciousness after no vitals for three hours,” said the man in a white coat. He was talking to my parents. "Some children do if they get very cold, like falling into icy cold water. They go into a sort of suspended animation.”

I coughed. If I had caught a cold because of that bloody fridge, I was going to sue them. They all looked round at me, blinking back at them. Then my mother in customary fashion burst into tears and nearly hugged me to death. This was nearly more dangerous than Harriet.

The family reunion was a very tearful and emotional affair. I seem to have this habit of waking up in hospital with my parents at my bedside. Something my father remarked upon. What he said was, “Jamie; I thought that becoming a nurse meant you spent some time in hospital, not a hospital bed.”

“Well, Daddy it’s very tiring being a nurse, so you have to take your perks where you can.”

The conversation continued in this vein for some while until they decided I looked tired and they left. I dozed for a while, and when I woke there was Don, his large dark eyes beaming. “John’s going to be okay. I thought you’d like to know. I’d like to say thank you for saving that ungrateful mule who also happens to be my best friend.”

“How do you know I saved him?” I wasn’t sure at this point I had.

“There was a lioness seen at the place they were holding him. A local plod investigated, there was a gunfight, and John and the ambassador were rescued. I think it bears all the hallmarks of a Jamie instigated event.”

“If you say so.” I yawned, “But I’m so glad he’s safe.” I was nearly dozing off again, when he produced the biggest bunch of flowers I have ever seen. He noticed my eyes grow larger.

“These are from a certain lady in a large white house; somewhere across the sea. She says, “With grateful thanks, Susan.” I didn’t know you were on first name terms with a US President.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, “Susan and me, we’re like that.” I crossed my fingers over to illustrate the point. He stood and shook his head in disbelief.

“You are one helluva girl, Jamie Curtis.”

“Tell me about it,” I responded.

“I mean it. I don’t think anyone else could have saved the Americans and our lot.”

“But I didn’t. The troops on the spot did that.”

“Only because you gave them a signal.”

“Can you prove that?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Well then, all I did was collapse in my chair and end up in hospital.”

“When you feel better, I’d like to talk to you about that,” he said.

“No. What is gone is over. No past reflections,” I said firmly.

“But there are some guys who will want to know exactly how you did it. They will keep asking until you tell them.”

“They can ask as much as they like. No one can prove I had anything to do with anything.”

“That would please Col Bell.”

“Bollocks to Col Bell.” I said. “I’ll bet he was mightily disappointed when I recovered.”

That Don didn’t deny it, meant I was correct in my assumption. Hopefully, now it’s all over we can get on with our lives. Sadly, my naivety meant I was wrong; yet again.
I didn’t hurry my recuperation. I decided that I had earned my rest, so effectively took a month off. Apparently, it was decided that because of my high standard of work, they passed me in my exams without me sitting them. Now that was magick.

I stayed sick to avoid the questions I know would be asked of me, by the men in suits. I couldn’t answer them. No, rephrase that; I wouldn’t answer them. I know how I do what I do and why it happened, sort of. They would be unlikely to believe me and would submit me to all sorts of tests. I don’t want to do that. I just want to be ordinary, but we rarely get what we want.

I was at home one day when I had a visit from Dr Fellowes. It was quite a shock. He told me he had come to Oxford to see a colleague and popped by on the off chance I was in. He asked me if I ever wore the pearls he gave me, and I said I did, but would understand if he wanted them back.

“No, Jamie, I don’t. I’m pleased that you’re making use of them.” He paused, “Have you had any contact with Beryl?”

I felt embarrassed. “No, I haven’t. Surely you of all people should know that you need to move on.”

“I know Jamie, but I do miss her.”

“She’s standing behind you, Richard,” I said, seeing her exactly as I said.

He spun around. “I just wish I could see her. What is she saying? Is she okay? Will I ever see her again?” Tears were rolling down his cheeks, but he was smiling with happiness.

“She is well. She tells me to tell you to get a life.” I chuckled at the next part of the message. “She says for you to ask Liz to go out with you. She was smiling as she said that.” I related to him. “Who is Liz?” I asked. This was like a psychic soap opera.

“Liz is my secretary. Her husband died with cancer about two years ago,” he was blushing.

“Well Beryl approves of her, and someone called Vince approves too,” I chimed.

“That was her husband. So he thinks it’s okay?”

“Seems like,” I said.

“I’ve brought you some more of her jewellery.” He said pushing a box onto my lap. “I’m sure Beryl would like you to have it.”

I wasn’t and pushed it back. “Why not give it to Liz if your relationship blossoms?” I asked.

“I’d rather buy new for her. Beryl was so special to me that the only person I can think of as being equally special; is you. I hope you’ll accept this in recognition of that specialness.”

I was not at all happy to do so, but not to seemed boorish. “Please Richard, promise me that if I accept this, you won’t give me anything else, ever again.”

“I can’t promise any such thing,” he replied in great disappointment.

“Then I can’t accept this,” I said passing him back the box.

“Jamie, I am a very wealthy man. I can afford to do this, and I want to do this. You have given me immense pleasure, reassured me of something beyond this life and rekindled my faith. I think it is worth every penny. So please accept it.”

“I have my pride too, Richard.”

“It isn’t about pride, it’s about love. We had no children, I see you as my substitute daughter. I’m sorry if that offends, but it’s a dream I have. So please take them now, or I shall leave them to you in my will. You’ll get them one way or another.”

How could I refuse after that? I just don’t like being spoiled. No, that isn’t quite true. I love being spoiled, but not with material things.

The day after, I got a phone call. “Hi Jamie, it’s Don. John is out of intensive care and they’re hoping to fly him home on Tuesday or Wednesday. Would you be available to meet the plane?”

I’d had the odd message from John, but he was very poorly. I couldn’t go to Egypt for reasons I’d rather not discuss here, and besides I was having a sickie. So I got regular updates on his condition. After all we’d been through together; one way and another; I wasn’t sure how I felt about the relationship anymore. He had apologised for all he’d said, but that didn’t unsay it. He’d agreed he was wrong, but that didn’t unsay it. He had hurt me to the bone. I wasn’t sure I could afford to let him close again. The problem was I loved him. My question is; is love enough? I don’t know the answer.