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

Just before Gwen Johns was about to call out a greeting, I managed to put my finger to my lips and showed her the gun in my other hand. I hoped she wouldn’t squeal or scream, I know what women are like...I am one!

To her credit, she didn’t. She went a sort of greeny white colour and fainted. Exactly what I needed, not. Sometimes, life seems so futile, other days it’s simply a waste of time. Ducking under the window, I nipped over to her garden and helped her back into her house.

“What are you doing with a gun?” she gasped as she came round and was able to sit up.

“I’m sorry, but I had to show it to you in case you spoke. I had to let you know it was serious. Sorry about the shock.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Where are the kids?”

“They’re out with Brian at his parents. They’ll be back in about an hour, I expect.”

“Call them and tell them to stay there until you call again.” I instructed her. “I have some unwelcome visitors to deal with.”

“What, on your own?” she gasped in astonishment.

“Yes, believe it or not, if I wait for a support team, World War Three will happen.” I said deadpan, “If you hear shots, or I don’t come back within half an hour, call this number and tell them what happened.” I said scribbling down John’s mobile number.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Jamie?”

“No, I make it up as I go along.” I smiled back at her, wondering if my gift for flippancy had outlived its usefulness. “I’ll be okay, back in half an hour. Stay away from windows and keep down, you’ll be safer that way.”

“Good luck.” She hissed to my back, as I crept quickly out of the door and back towards my own house.

“Now what do I do?” I said to myself as I slipped back into my own garden. I reached the side wall of the house. I needed to know how many of them there were, and where they were. I leant against the side of the house and imagined myself upstairs in my bedroom. I could see they had been in there.

Remote viewing the rest of the upstairs, I started on the downstairs. My parents were in the lounge, huddled together on the sofa, my father had a cut on the side of his face. Someone would pay for that! One of the goons from the farm was watching them, he had some sort of gun in his hand.

In the dining room, the one I had seen from the garden was pacing to and fro. Were there any more? I had a feeling there was, the woman was there, I just knew it.

“She draws near.” Said the dark haired woman, from the kitchen, “I can sense she is near.”

“You don’t expect me to believe all that mumbo jumbo stuff, do ya?” said goon number one from the lounge.

“What you believe is your affair.” She dismissed him, “I am saying what I believe.”

Outside, I was becoming increasingly agitated. If I called for help, my parents could be hurt or worse. If I went in gung ho by myself, we could all be killed. I needed an alternative. I had a strong sense of wickedness from the house, somebody in there had some nasty connections to the other world. It was time to call in some extra help.

I sealed the house with a giant pentagram. No one was leaving unless I said so. I then began to systematically fill the house with light. I began in the attic and moved down through each of the rooms. The effect of this was like microwaving each room. Thankfully, we had no pets, but mum’s orchid would be destroyed, along with any other house plants.

As the minutes ticked by, I closed my web upon them. I heard shrieks from within. “She is here, quickly, you must get her or we are dead.” So screamed the female voice from within the house.

I felt one of the men begin to search the house. If he returned to the dining room, he would survive. If he continued moving about, he had less than three minutes to live.
I heard him scream. Then seconds later, the second man opened the door and met the wall of fire outside it. He shouted and fled back in the house. Unharmed, I walked in through the open door.

“I tell you, the place is surrounded by fire.” I heard the male voice speaking frantically to an accomplice, obviously the woman.

“It’s an illusion, she is playing with your mind.” Replied his colleague.

“Well you fuckin’ try it then, smart arse,” he screamed back at her.

“I shall.” She snapped back at him. She walked into the kitchen and straight into me. “I knew you would come, and vanity makes you think you can save your parents by yourself? Kill them,” she shouted to the man. I heard two shots.

“You bitch,” I shouted and hit her across the face with my pistol. She fell back, but then stood up without a mark on her.

“For that you will die,” she spat at me. She then sprang at me and knocked me over, the gun flying from my hand, clattering across the kitchen floor. I rolled away from her, and up into a crouched position. I knew her energy felt strange, she began to transform before my very eyes into a gorgon.

Her long dark hair became a sea of writhing snakes, and her facial features became horrible. With great difficulty, I managed to close my eyes, and throw myself out of the room.

In the hallway, I grabbed the mirror from the hallstand and from its hanging on the wall, I grabbed the samurai sword dad had brought back from Japan when he did a lecture tour there. I shook free the scabbard, which fell to the floor with a clonk.
I walked backwards towards the kitchen. “That’s right, Jamie, come and die,” called the coldest voice I have ever heard.

“We’ll see about that,” I whispered to myself.

“Oh very clever,” said the voice, seeing me advancing with the mirror, “All you need now is a sword and a cloak of invisibility. What a pity, most modern homes don’t have them these days.” She cackled this last bit at me.

I walked, awkwardly to within about a yard of her. The smell was ‘orrible. I could feel the air moving from the gyrations of the snakes. She still hadn’t seen the piece of Japanese steel held close to my chest, in my other hand. So far so good.

“Turn around girl, prepare to meet your doom, you know you cannot resist me.” I could feel her trying to control my mind, I had to act and quickly. I closed my eyes and spun round in a circle slashing with the sword as I went. As I did so, I prayed I’d held it the right way round, cutting side outwards.

The slashing felt some resistance and a gurgled shriek. I stepped away and slashed again. My eyes still closed, I stepped away again, I heard something thud on the floor, the gurgling was horrible. I stepped from the room, feeling for the doorway. I did not look back, the sword in my hand, my now trembling hand, had a mixture of red, bloodlike fluid and something else – a thick, green, viscous goo.

I ran into the lounge, my parents were still huddled on the sofa. The man with the gun was stood in front of them. “One more step and I will shoot them next time.”

I stopped in an instant. “What do you want?” I asked.

“Drop the blade.” He snapped at me. I did as I was told.

“I want you to tell me what you know, then I shall kill you. I will probably then kill your parents.”

“What if I don’t tell you.”

“Then you can decide which of them dies first.”

“Why didn’t you kill them earlier, when I heard the shots.”

“I thought it might be a good idea to see how good you were. My friend Medusa, thought she was strong enough to take you. I see she was wrong.” He looked at me, “Oh the old mirror trick. I’m disappointed in her.”

“ It worked for Perseus. If you come up to my room, I’ll show you what I’ve got.” I said to the gun man.

“I’d be delighted to see what you have, it looks very nice. However, seeing as Sid was daft enough to meet you earlier. I think I would prefer to keep you at arm's length and with these two to bargain with.” He indicated my parents with the gun.
“Your friend walked into a trap.”

“I’m sure he did. Now, turn off the fire outside.”

I did as he instructed. The sun began to shine on the large, Victorian mantle mirror in the lounge. It began to reflect on to my face. I felt its power entering me. If I did this it would have to be very quick and with the gun pointing away from Mum and Dad.

I called up one of my little helpers to wander behind him and attract his attention. She did as I asked. He spun round muttered some imprecation and fired at my little friend. As he did so, I saw the solar disk form above me and I grew to fill the room, an instant later he was hit by the equivalent of a super laser, which blackened his skin as he was thrown backwards against the wall. He was dead before he hit it.

In Sekhmet mode, I went into the kitchen and cleansed up the mess, scorching the head with its still wriggling hair and then the body which lay in a pool of gunk by the sink. As I finished this job, I heard sirens and saw flashing lights outside. “Just what I needed,” I said to myself. “They are not going to believe this.”

As they approached the house each one of the armed response team saw a flash and forgot what they were there for. The neighbours watched them suddenly stop and appear confused before re entering their cars and speeding off again. My day was improving.

Before the goddess left me, I rushed back into the room and touching my father’s head healed the wound. I then touched them both, and they went to sleep. When they awoke, they would remember none of the ordeal they had undergone.

Sadly, I had no captives to question, so that was a wasted opportunity. However, my priority had been my parents and they were safe. I called up some help from the department and the mess was cleaned up two hours later. While I was waiting I phoned Gwen Johns and told her everything was now safe.

During my wait, I also had time to consider what clues they had given me. The last man I dealt with, the one guarding my parents, “Wondered how good I was.” What was the context of his query? Did he know about my Egyptian connection? He knew his friend was able to transform into a gorgon, so why wouldn’t he know about me? Yet, he didn’t believe her when she told him I was near.

I knew this lot were involved with the impending attack on the president, and obviously they had contacts with some dark group, from which, presumably Medusa had come. I presumed further that she had a similar sort of link with the energy of the ancient gorgon as I had with Sekhmet. Thankfully, mine was more adaptable. I did wonder how she would turn someone to stone, maybe like the White Witch in Narnia, or would it be more metaphorical, simply paralysing them? I didn’t know, nor would now unless they had her sisters around. I didn’t fancy the idea too much, maybe I should keep the sword handy.

It’s always bothered me that in fantasy stories, despite the high tech aliens or whatever, who have travelled zillions of miles or through time, they still end up sorting things with swords and spears. Why? I chuckled as I recalled the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, where Indiana Jones attempt to rescue the damsel in distress, was blocked by a sword wielding giant, whom he shot. Because that is how real life is. All right, I know I just used a sword, but then the only way to kill a gorgon was by decapitation – read your Greek myths. I had a horrible thought, if they all end with the good and bad guys slogging it out with swords, I hope John and Don are better at it than I am, I was rubbish.

I still could not remember where I had seen that woman, the one with the funny hair cut. It was bugging me. Who was she? My search of the house and the car gave little or no information. She left no handbag, the car was on false plates. There were no clothing labels, nor anything in the pockets of anyone. Fingerprints would be checked, but it all took time, a commodity of which we had little. What’s that Chinese curse – may you lead an interesting life? Oh boy!

Once things were cleaned up, I was able to bring my parents out of their sleep. They seemed well and accepted the suggestions I gave them of it having been an ordinary day, except for a minor accident in the kitchen where there were some scorch marks. I claimed responsibility for them, well that part was true.

After I settled them down, I showered and packed my bag for the morning. It would be an early start.

It was, at four thirty I left home. I yawned most of the way to London. The traffic was light but increasing as I parked at my office, changed and had breakfast with John and Don. Their eyes practically came out on stalks as I described my latest adventure, and they both issued a warning of concern for my safety.

“It’s amazing, a year ago I would not have believed any of this paranormal stuff existed outside the walls of a cinema, and that would all be fake. Now, I seem to be faced with it all the time. I don’t understand it, I don’t like it but I have to accept that something is happening I can’t explain. It has both saved and threatened my life and that of my friends and colleagues. So it’s both unreal and real.”

“It is manifested by men.” I added to John’s statement.

“And women,” chipped in Don.

“Okay, and women. But that’s why we are witnessing it. Usually it happens on another plane, on the astrals, but we, humans, that is, are making it happen here.
Qabalistically, we’re bringing it down into Malkuth, the sphere of the physical world.”

“Can we keep it simple?” asked Don, “I don’t have a PhD in occult sciences.”

“Qabalah makes it simple, it gives us a map.” I hurriedly drew a diagram of the tree on a paper napkin, and showed quickly how things pass down the tree into the realm of the physical. Of course it involves four worlds which overlap…” I said, really getting into my subject.

“Whoa,” said Don, “Too much information. I believe you, can we leave it there and concentrate on the business in hand. You’re off to the US Embassy,” he said to John, “and you, great leader, are off to Whitehall. While l’il ole me, is off to solve the rest of the case while you two sit on your fat arses and drink tea.”

“That’s about it,” quipped John, “and who said slavery was dead?” We all laughed at this, especially Don.

“As we can’t get air cover, we need to find that plane. Tonight, the president sleeps at Buck House (A slang reference to Buckingham Palace, which began life as Buckingham House). Tomorrow she’s at the embassy for two nights. We have about thirty hours to stop this thing.”

“Jamie, it’s got to be worth making this better known to the intelligence world.” Pleaded John, “We haven’t got a hope in hell of stopping this by ourselves. I mean even with your Egyptian friend, I doubt you can shoot down a plane, even if you saw it coming.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried. I’d prefer we stop these maniacs before they get airborne. But what power is available, I wouldn’t know. Sekhmet did once set out to destroy the world, according to Egyptian mythology. She was stopped by being tricked into getting drunk.”

“Better keep you off the booze then,” quipped Don.

“I suppose you had. However, I don’t want to destroy the world or anybody else. I’m actually trying to stop that happening, however ironic that may seem.”

“We know princess,” said John with a smile that melted my heart all the way to my knees. “which is why, we’re trying to help you.”

I leant across and kissed him, while Don hid his eyes and muttered things about, “not in front of the horses.” The people with whom I work, are bonkers.

I changed into what I considered to be appropriate clothes, a navy silk suit with a light blue fleck in it, matched with a light blue silk blouse and navy bag and shoes. I left my hair down, I would be wearing an earpiece later, so my hair would hide some of it. I also had a holster secured to my inner thigh containing you know what. It wasn’t very comfortable, but a shoulder holster would have shown under my jacket. I paid quite a lot for this suit, wearing a transceiver would be bad enough, giving a small lump at the back of my waist, but a gun tucked under my boob with a fitted jacket…no way! I had practised releasing the gun, it was a fiddle but okay, and took no more time than it would from a shoulder thingy. All I had to remember was not to cross my legs.

I put on my ID and went to Whitehall, the briefing was brief. “Protect her life at all costs.” As this was a nonsense, I could have protected her with an Apache or a fighter jet, but they would neither believe nor fund it, ‘all costs’ became meaningless civil service jargon. Maybe I should have asked if the ‘all costs’ came in triplicate. I was sent to Buck House, to await the arrival of our VIP. I cadged a lift with some other security personnel, mainly MI5. No one said anything, but the atmosphere in the car was heavy enough to reduce the miles per gallon significantly.

We were all admitted to a service entrance, no need to disturb HM, and sent off to our various posts. In the entrance we all set off the metal detector. “Are you wearing a gun, sir?” asked the security guard of the agent in front of me. His response was not very polite, “I think that is uncalled for. Please remove it and re-enter the detector.” The snotty agent was going to make an issue of it, until the security guard’s backup, clicked his Heckler & Koch safety catch loudly. The upshot was, we all had to show our weapons, and walk through the metal detector without them.

There were a few whistles when I removed and replaced mine. Was I blushing or had it suddenly got warmer in here?

If I could only get near the President, I could warn her. However, I suspected that was not going to be possible. Whoever was keeping her from my communication was unlikely to stop until they had succeeded in their dreadful plan. It wouldn’t stop me from trying, then I hardly expected it to work. But who knows, sometimes these guys are so rapt in their scheme they overlook the obvious. I certainly hoped so.

The security plan was simple. US secret service form the immediate body guard, we provide a guard to them. Simple, on paper at least, in practice… Well, things have been known to go a bit awry.

Our liaison was an MI5 senior agent, a Mr Acland, who had worked with Royal Protection for years and overseen overseas VIPs as part of his brief. We spoke briefly and he explained my duties, keep my eyes open and follow instructions coming through the transceiver. “Any questions?”

“Just one, what happens if the threat is from inside rather than outside the security services?”

“What did I mean?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“If I knew anything I should report it to a senior officer at once.”

“Tried that, nothing happened.”

“Look here, young woman, every agent here has been vetted at least three times by different agencies. I have every confidence in them. With the exception of yourself, they are all experienced agents. How you came to be included, is a mystery.”

“I know exactly why.”

“Oh yes, and how’s that?”

“I saved her life last time she was over here and she requested I was included.” I saw his superior sneer turn to a scowl, maybe this could be fun after all?

“I have no record of this.”

“No you wouldn’t, it’s secret.” I said quietly and smugly.

“If you are taking the piss, Curtis, your arse is in big trouble.”

“If you are doubting my integrity, your pension could be coming early.” I replied so only he could hear it.

“Don’t you threaten me, you…you… schoolgirl.” He became very red in the face.

“I shall speak to the PM about your sexist behaviour, unless you apologise immediately.”

“You, speak to the PM! Don’t make me laugh.” He made a self conscious false laugh as he said this. He reminded me of Basil Fawlty, and it was all I could do to keep a straight face.

“I happen to know the Prime Minister personally. I have been to Chequers and sat next to him at a dinner, as his guest. I also know President Susan Carlton, having met her more than once. Please don’t write me off because of my apparent youth, I’m older than I look and have a higher kill rate than Billy the Kid. I am waiting for your apology.” I maintained eye contact as he struggled with his conscience and his future prospects. Finally, and with great difficulty he managed to croak an apology.

I’m sure it made his day, and I know he’d be checking my file as soon as he finished, ‘the little girl who bit back’. I hate bullies, especially sexist wankers like him.

I collected my transceiver and made my way to the reception room, Christ, it was big enough to hold a football match in. Anyway, in two hours Her Majesty would receive the US President, they would exchange symbolic gifts, shake hands and speak briefly to the assembled dignitaries, media and security personnel. It would be a nightmare to police, and although I was sure how the real attempt would be made, there was always the potential for another individual or group to try something. So we were all on high alert. What fun.