This is a work of fiction any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is unintentional.
“I’m sure things like this don’t happen to James Bond,” I thought to myself as the eyes drew closer, the rumbling noise growing louder. Then I could smell it, a horrible pong which nearly defied description. But at least I knew my fate.
A moment later it happened. The eyes drew closer and so did the noise, then a warm, wet but rough tongue played across my face. The lioness which had helped me so often was here again, her sisters wouldn’t be too far away. I pushed her away, unfortunately not down wind. Try staying with a large cat in a warm confined space, they stink.
Thinking I was playing with her, she purred louder and rolled over on her back for me to rub her belly. Even if I had been in the mood, I could not have complied with her wish, because she rolled off the beam and fell through the ceiling taking about a dozen of the tiles with her. She crash landed on two security men, pole-axing one and making the other a little shocked to say the least. Following my command, she bashed him on the head, just hard enough to put him to sleep as well.
I managed to swing down from the ceiling cavity and land safely on my bare feet. I’d thrown my shoes down first. I was covered in dust and I suspected my clothes were ruined, but if I didn’t act quickly a few bullet holes would make them beyond repair not to mention their wearer.
Thankfully all these secret service men wear ties and belts, so tying them up was easy as was gagging them. I then dragged them behind some furniture so they wouldn’t be seen immediately.
Beating off some of the dust, I stepped back into my shoes and collected the extra guns. I shoved one in the waistband of my skirt and emptied the magazine from the other, placing it in my bag. I looked more as if I was demolishing ceilings than working for my government, curious that.
The room was some sort of ante-room near the presidential suite from my recollection of the plans. Neutralising the cameras was easy, taking no more than a thought, dealing with the woman who came through the door was another matter.
As I saw the door moving I ran to the wall from which it opened, to try and strike her from behind completely forgetting seven foot of lioness sitting in the middle of the floor washing her paws.
“Oh my lord!” she gasped as my little helper glared at her and roared, whereupon she fainted. Maybe my luck was changing.
I dragged her into a corner and stripped her down to her underwear. She was slightly bigger than I was, but at a pinch her suit would do. Once dressed, I searched for something to restrain her with, only a telephone flex seemed available. That was too harsh, so I whipped off her bra and tied her wrists behind her with that. Her legs I did bind with the telephone cable. I hoped her embarrassment might also act against her calling for help, not to mention the pair of tights I’d tied around her mouth.
Wearing a lilac coloured suit and hoping my face wasn’t too dirty, I stepped through the door and began to make my way to the library. This had been refurbished in the recent works and was one of the rooms where the attack was possible.
The lioness went into invisible mode. Okay, if this sounds a bit too convenient, remember they are thought forms which only appear solid in the mind of the beholder, in this case mine, although I hadn’t actually sent for any of them, I was glad of the company.
I spotted two security men stood either side of a doorway ahead of me. As they were looking for someone with a navy suit and I was wearing lilac, they didn’t twig who I was. Nor did they see the invisible lioness, well they wouldn’t would they until she revealed herself stood on her hind legs between them, two deft smacks with her paws left yet more of the secret service with headaches and bout of unconsciousness. I left her on guard as I restrained them with ties and belts, and removed the projectiles from their guns.
“Hal, where are you you SOB.” Called the voice as a third member of the security team entered the room.
“No,” I hissed too slowly, as the lioness bounded over and flattened him. This time the floor did the work for us, sadly breaking his nose in the process and a few of his expensive dental prosthetics.
I pushed the lioness out of the way, and scolded her, “I wanted this one conscious so I could get some directions, you could have eaten him later. Bloody cats!” With that she gently swiped me at the ankles and I went sprawling onto the carpet.
I was just about to retaliate when I realised someone else had entered the room. The lioness crouched ready to spring; I made her disappear because she couldn’t help against my new foe. It was Oliver, I could sense him and the temperature began to fall.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” called Oliver and I felt my blood run cold.
The problem with thought forms is that you can’t actually kill them. If you zap them hard enough they might just dissemble enough to be beyond reforming; obviously I hadn’t zapped Oliver hard enough. Now we were playing on his home territory which made the encounter even more interesting.
“Jamie Curtis; I know you are in here; you cannot escape so why not stand up and take what’s coming?” called the voice in mocking tones.
I looked towards the windows; it was still daylight although the sun wasn’t shining directly into the room. Looking at the situation, I began to wonder if this was as far as it was going to go; in which case I hoped John was having more luck. I held onto the Sekhmet pendant and prayed for help, rapid fashion.
I needed a miracle and fast. Oliver was moving around the furniture and getting closer to my hiding place. Then a couple of things happened; he was no longer between me and the window – a possible emergency exit. I began to creep towards it as he continued to call me to show myself. I had barely made it level with the window when someone in an office at ninety degrees to the room opened a window, a flash of reflected sunlight streamed through the window and onto my body, I immediately felt the energy rush and with it knew I had received my miracle.
Transforming into a living facsimile of the ‘Eye of Re’ it became difficult to remain behind the sofa as I was now longer than it. I stood up as Oliver turned around and looked into the solar disc above my head. A moment later a beam of light not unlike a huge laser flashed at him. He laughed and exploded. I hoped this time I’d hit him hard enough, but I had my doubts.
The noise would bring security men and the smell of burning would make it difficult to evade them. My current manifestation would also not exactly help me to blend in, I needed time.
As one of the security team began to open the door, I threw energy at the handle. I heard a yell of pain and the door swung shut again. I remembered they were fire and security doors, with a thick piece of metal through the middle of them. The frames would be similarly constructed, an idea came to mind.
I’m sure that a solar disc has never before been used for welding, but that was what I did – welded the door to its frame. I could hear the shouts of incredulity the other side of the door as they could see the charring around the edges. At first they quite naturally thought the room was on fire, hot handle and burn marks. However, they couldn’t see any smoke or flames from the windows which were open.
It would only be a few minutes before they attacked from the other door, I needed to make myself scarce because in this mode any human who mixed it with me was doomed to meet his ancestors and I’d had enough of killing unless it was absolutely necessary.
My body modified back to its normal shape and size. A security man came rushing in sprawling headlong over my outstretched leg. The second one stopped with my gun pointed at his head, he dropped his weapon and raised his hands. I gave him one of my stares and he began to look very blank. I told him his colleague was madly in love with him as he was with his colleague and that they should kiss cuddle and do all sorts of lovely things together, now! He gave me a beaming smile and waltzed into the room, shutting the door behind. I smiled and moved on.
It struck me as I walked through the building that the sprinkler system or fire alarms had failed to activate when I was welding doors or blowing up thought forms. I wondered if I was heading on the right track.
A second thought occurred to me: they must have a full scale alert on at the embassy with me running amok. I had no idea how many personnel they had there but now, they had about eight less active than originally. If they didn’t have real guns this could have been good fun, sort of adult hide and seek.
“Good fun?” I said to myself, then mentally berated myself for such a dumb thought. I should be home now making John’s dinner or making something else with John, but that sort of thought was distracting me. I dropped it and began to go back to my more appropriate ones. A full scale alert would mean they wouldn’t allow the president to enter the building. Surely that would be the case, wouldn’t it?
Maybe it would depend on who made those decisions and whose side he or she was on? That made life difficult again. If I’d run amok in Sekhmet mode they would have had to have taken the president somewhere else; however, I hadn’t and now it was too late for that particular strategy. I had to find the bomb and disable it.
Where was it? I had absolutely no idea, not an inkling or even the germ of an idea. I tried to imagine where I’d put it and decided I’d have blown up the car on its way into the drive or on the road. Enough explosive and you can destroy a tank let alone a limo.
Their plan required the stooge flying the aircraft, so it had to be somewhere that could be reached by aerial attack. To my mind that meant rooms on the outside or as the building was roughly square with a small courtyard, one of the rooms adjacent to the courtyard.
I was now three rooms away from the reception room where I’d zapped Oliver, I stepped into the corridor and walked away from the direction of the trouble, my ID badge flapping as I walked. It bore no resemblance to me, but I had enough skill to make anyone who looked at it not notice the difference.
Who was I anyway? I read the badge, “Marlene Krupps;” I read out loud, “Intelligence Analyst,” whatever one of those is?
“Miss Krupps,” a man in military uniform said nodding at me. At least my psycho-fogging was working. I was glad of that as he was carrying a powerful looking pistol on his hip.
I needed somewhere to stop and think and then I spotted a sign for restrooms. Why do they call them that? They’re toilets or lavatories not even bathrooms, hardly places to rest. But whatever they were called, I entered the ladies one and realised I needed to use its facilities. Afterwards; I washed my face and hands and combed my hair and tidied up my make up; all the while trying to figure out where to start looking for the bomb.
The windows were frosted glass presumably because women used them to change clothes and things. There were lockers and one or two pairs of shoes there. Mine were nicer, so I didn’t swap any. I went to the window and discovered that it could be opened and it overlooked the courtyard.
I began to mentally scan the rooms I could see. I suspected there were about twenty I could see from the window. I would need about ten minutes once I got into that mode and I began to centre down, projecting my mind into each room.
I had no idea what shape or form of explosive they would use. My gut feeling was Semtex, because there was loads of it about, it was easy to keep and safe to handle. It also kept for relatively long periods. Terrorist groups had used it many times and it was a very efficient explosive. I had vague recollections of it being manufactured in Czechoslovakia or somewhere in that direction before the break-up of the Soviet Bloc. Presumably, it was made all over the place now. Sadly, I didn’t know if that was what I was looking for, so I tried to home in on very negative feelings, such as murder.
My premise was simple, whoever made or planted the bomb was feeling very negative towards a person they wanted to destroy. If I could home in those feelings, I might find where the bomb was planted. Well, I liked it anyway and it was as likely to render a solution as looking for explosives of indeterminate nature.
I set to my task and was making modest progress when a woman walked into the room. “Whatcha watchin’?” she asked chewing gum between words.
“The latest Harry Potter movie,” I replied.
“Ha freakin’ ha!” she mock laughed, “Shut the freakin’ window will ya?”
“I can’t do that,” I apologised.
“Why not?”
“It’s not in my job description.”
“What?” she said and chewed half a dozen times before adding, “What are you talkin’ about?”
“My job description, I’m employed to open windows not close them, that’s Amelia’s job.”
“
You outta your freakin’ mind?” she practically screamed at me.
“No, but you are;” I replied quietly and stared into her eyes.
For a moment she stood very still, then placing one hand on her hip and raising the other arm, flexed it at both the elbow and wrist after which she began to sing, “I’m a little teapot short and stout…” I returned to my task of ‘window shopping’.
With the musical accompaniment, my task did not become easier and I sent her into a sleep mode, from which she would awake back as normal but without any memory of meeting me. Maybe I should become a psychotherapist if I survived the day?
I scanned all the rooms but found nothing that led me to suspect any of them. I tried to recall the schedule Todd had shown me, but it was gone and someone pointed up at the window through which I was looking. Time to move on, and quickly.
With footsteps sounding behind me, I stepped through a doorway and found myself in a stairwell. Footsteps from below, meant I began to climb and quickly. Running up the steps on my toes meant there was little sound of my heels and I slipped through the doors onto the next floor.
“Hi Marlene,” called a guard and I sent him chasing wild geese to the floor below. I was now on the top floor but no nearer finding the bomb. Oh for a sniffer dog, or even a sniffer cat if there is such a thing. I felt like crying, I was hot, bothered, hungry and thirsty not to mention tired and dispirited.
I stepped into what looked like someone’s apartment, smiling at my silly idea of a sniffer cat. I had a quick scan around the place after jamming the door shut. A bedroom, a sitting room, bathroom and small kitchen. I stole a hunk of bread and cheese and drank a glass of grape juice.
I checked out the wardrobes but the clothes were too big for me and the wrong sex. Trying to think what to do next, I laughed at my earlier idea of sniffer cats once more, trying to envisage cats doing anything to please mere humans unless they felt so inclined. Then I had a brainwave. Sniffer cats might be difficult, but not sniffer lions, well okay, lionesses and invisible ones at that.
I assembled my troops and telling them that I had no idea what they were looking for, sent them off to find what they could. The three of them could cover more ground than I could and hopefully would be just as efficient. I instructed them to hide if any danger threatened them and to report back to me. Then I sat down and made myself a cup of coffee and waited. The noise from below seemed to quieten down and I somehow slipped into a snooze.
It must have been more than a snooze because I didn’t hear anyone enter the apartment, let alone work out how they got past my door jam. “Well, what have we here?” said a voice and I woke with a start. “Keep perfectly still and put your hands on your head.” My sleepy eyes focussed on the barrel of an automatic pistol.
“Who are you, because you ain’t Marlene, and where is she?”
“I’m a British secret service agent who is trying to keep your president alive.” I told the truth because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“You’re the woman they’re looking for.”
“No that’s my twin sister.”
“I could shoot you.”
“But then I couldn’t introduce you to my evil twin.”
“Don’t bullshit me, you’re trying to kill the president.”
“If that was the case, why haven’t I killed you?”
“I’m not the president,” he smirked back at me. This was becoming tedious.
“But you are in my way, preventing me from carrying out my terrible plan.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” He seemed rather pleased with himself.
“Unfortunately, one of my accomplices is right behind you. I would therefore suggest you lower your gun and surrender it to me.”
“Haw haw,” he laughed like a donkey braying.
“If you don’t you could get hurt.” I gave him a last chance and he laughed again. “Not too hard,” I said to my little friend and she whacked him around the head with a large paw. His gun tumbled to the floor and I picked it up. The safety was still on it, and it had no ammunition.
My girls had returned, none of us were any the wiser about the bomb, or its placement. I was now becoming seriously worried for the safety of the president and myself.
I sent a text to John. “Not doin 2 well. No further 4ward. Being hunted, they think I’m the villain. Do what you can and quickly. Love Jamie xxx.”
I received one back. “Have spoken to HQ, will advise US of mix up. They say 2 surrender, I say keep moving. Will do what I can. Love J.xxx”
There was no way I was going to surrender, not until it was all over whatever that meant. But what could I do, sit on the roof and try and shoot the plane down? Well it was one solution, but not realistic with a pistol or three. A quick transformation and zap it with Sekhmet bolt? Not if it was dark, and besides what would stop them blowing up their bomb anyway? Not much unless I could find it. I felt like crying, this was so frustrating. Even James Bond would have trouble with this one and he’d have the support of Q or P, or whatever and a bag of special effects; all I had was three lionesses and an Egyptian goddess, plus a few special effects of my own.
Despite John contacting the embassy, I suspected I would be shot on sight. I glanced out of the window, the day was turning to dusk and the president would be here soon. I cursed myself for falling asleep, it had wasted precious time.
My cats had searched much of the building with no result. This meant they either missed the explosive, or it wasn’t there. I had to go back to the presidential suite and see why I felt so negative about the atmosphere there. Was there something happening there; was it a trap; could it be a diversion?
If Oliver was here, his controller or controllers must be near. They know I’m here as the spanner trying to get in their works. The problem is, who is safe and who isn’t? I have to treat them all as potentially hostile – nothing new there then. They were certainly treating me hostilely.
There was a loud knock at the door, my heart skipped a beat. I moved towards it, gun drawn ready. “Rog, aren’t you ready yet?” called a woman’s voice, “the President will be here anytime. Rog, you okay?”
Standing by the side of the door, I threw it open and grabbed the unwitting visitor and yanked her in. The gun in her face tended to focus her attention. She was a captain in the Marines, and I half expected some sort of response from her but there wasn’t any. I watched as her face went almost white and then she keeled over in a faint.
She was about my size and blonde, at last things were going my way. I undressed her and tied her up, then slipped into her uniform. Okay, I could now be charged with impersonating a US officer or shot as a spy – no change there. I tied my hair back and pulled on her hat and tinted glasses. I looked a bit different. Sadly, her shoes were too small so I had to keep on my own but I was in a dress uniform and hoped no one would notice too quickly.
I told my girls to patrol and inform me if they found anything. I set off for the presi suite, toutes suite. I saluted and blustered my way down to the first floor, time was running out. My mind kept bringing up the absent fire prevention equipment and I reasoned that a large water type fire extinguisher could contain enough explosive to do the job. However, the problem with this argument was I hadn’t seen any near there.
My stomach began to churn as I approached the rooms that had given me such a bad feeling and I knew I could be walking directly into a trap. I had no choice. The air began to feel colder and heavier. I flicked off the safety on my most accessible pistol. It was probably pointless but it gave me something protective to do.
Grabbing a folder off a desk I passed, I managed to blag my way through the security on the door. Then someone shouted that the British agent had been spotted and they all took off in that direction. I slipped through the door.
“Switched allegiance have we Captain Cutis?”
I jumped, spun around and pointed the now cocked gun at the voice.
“That will do you no good in here,” said the man stood opposite me.
“I reckon I could put at least three slugs in you before you could do anything much,” I replied, meaning every word of it as my finger eased on the trigger.
“Very possibly, but you would die with me.”
“Perhaps, I don’t see how but I’ll take your word for it.”
“No you won’t see how, cunning isn’t it? What are you seeking Captain Curtis?
“You know damned well what I’m searching for! I threw back at him.
“A bomb, perhaps?” he said smiling.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Please don’t mess with me, we know all about you and your little helpmate from Egypt. There are no windows here, so you are on your own Captain, or might I call you, Jamie?”
“I’d prefer to keep it formal, I try not to kill friends,” I offered as a retort.
“Very droll, Captain. Yes, very good. Would you like me to show you the bomb which is going to kill the president?”
Feeling very uncomfortable but having no other strategy, I nodded. He gestured around the room.
“Well, where is it?” I demanded.
“Here,” he said pointing all around the room.
“Where?” I said loudly pointing the gun at his face.
“All around you Captain.”
“What, in the fire alarms?” I checked out my suspicions.
“No, in the walls. The room is plastered in explosives, the fire alarms are the detonation system.”
“What? But that will blow up half the building?”
“Yes it will, obviously the plane was carrying a bigger bomb than we thought,” he smirked at me. “It also means if you shoot me, it is highly likely that one of your bullets will hit the wall and set it all off.”
“It would save the president’s life,” I spat back.
“No, it would just mean we would kill her as she got out of the car.”
“Why not just do that in the first place?”
“We want to start a major war in the Middle East.”
“But a lone assassin in an aircraft won’t do that?”
“Who says he will be alone, you’ll be there too.”
“I don’t have any Middle Eastern connections,” I declared.
“But you do dear lady, an Egyptian one and it so happens that is where all the participants who we shall implicate, are from. So you see, we have enough to make life very difficult for your leonine friends.”
I began to feel my muscles becoming stiff and my arm dropped towards the floor. I tried to resist but it was hopeless.
“Ah, I see you’re beginning to succumb to the power. I have to congratulate you as a worthy opponent, but the dark side always wins.” He laughed at me as my gun pointed at the floor and I squeezed the trigger.
Comments
Still slugging
Jamie's resolve is impressive, despite her frequent self doubts she keeps pushing on. I guess that pulling that trigger seemed to be the only available action left.
Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."
dunno why
but it seems to be getting a bit Dick Barton!
Madeline Anafrid Bell
Dick Barton
I went to school with Dick’s thick Scottish cousin, Dumb.
I did, in fact spend two years at a boarding school near Dumbarton.
☠️
Arggggg The Dreaded Cliff Hanger
Angharad, our friendship is getting on shaky ground. Whoever is manifesting Oliver is able to use him anytime anyplace. Jamie's cats may be manifested but can't touch Oliver. It also seems as If Jamie's Eye of Re only removes Oliver at the moment as he keeps returning and returning and..., Same Oliver or new manifestation?
Jamie, quit playing with the bad guys and girls and put them down..., HARD!
Hugs Angharad
Barb
Life is meant to be lived, not worn until it's worn out.
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl
eek!
not good at all!
Blimey
I’m just a bit breathless. Talk about action packed. If this story was a comic it would be full of speech bubbles with Kapow!!! and the like.
More action in one episode than an entire series of Love Island….
Great stuff. If you can keep up. Even Jamie must be feeling the pace. Adrenalin only lasts so long.
Thanks Angharad xxx
☠️
A very big boom
indeed. Seems she is finally meeting her main opponent.
So, kaboom?
No wonder the bomb couldn't be found. It wasn't a bomb but a room bomb.
And now Jamie is in a pickle and just fired the gun towards the floor. And if the room is the bomb, then kaboom? Or not.
This chapter is like watching the serials that used to be shown before the main feature.
Others have feelings too.
I wonder if...
this is what you would call a Boom Boom Room?
Sammy