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SNAFU Part 46

by Angharad

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

*****

I lay in the bath, soaking up the warmth from the hot soapy water, it was bliss to my aching muscles and bones. It was also something I didn’t believe would happen a matter of hours before. Then I was beginning to think, I would be blown apart rather than gently shuffling off this mortal coil.

There was a knock at my door and the same clerk who’d brought me to this room entered and held up a black and gold dress. “I got this from the same woman whose uniform you borrowed, she’s pleased to help.”

I looked at the dress, it wasn’t my idea of style, but it should fit and it was better than my birthday suit or the robe hanging on the back of the door. “Tell her thanks, I’ll get it cleaned and returned to her,” I said back.

“No that’s fine, she wants you to have it.” I lay there wondering what was wrong with it that she wanted rid of it. “She’ll be able to tell everyone that she helped foil the plot by loaning you her clothes, when she gets Stateside.”

I felt a little sad at this revelation. Surely she had helped as best she could anyway? Oh well, I waited for my visitor to leave and got out of the bath after showering myself down. I dried my hair and improved my appearance with the mascara and lippy in my returned handbag. I used the perfume on the shelf - Chanel No 19. Hmm, it’s quite nice. I slipped on the underwear they’d supplied–Playtex–is this standard US Army issue? It wasn’t as nice as my own but it fitted reasonably well. I pulled on the tights, or pantyhose as the pack said, and slipped on my own shoes. Despite the bashing around they’d got, they’d cleaned up really well, as had my bag.

I was ready to meet the President, without needing to save her life, I hoped. The woman clerk was waiting for me outside my room and led me down to the smart apartment they had turned into the Presidential Suite, it was apparently for the Vice President, when they visited. My mind boggled at the expense involved, it seemed nearly as plush as the Presidential one.

“Do come in, Captain Curtis, or do you mind if I call you, Jamie? “

“Not at all, madam President.”

“Mr Storey reported to me about your Ancient Egyptian yarn, surely you don’t believe all that stuff do you?”

“Not only do I believe it, it happens to be true.”

“Oh come on, Jamie, it might do to play games with a security officer, but surely you can tell me what’s going on?” I felt my heart sink, head and brick wall came to mind.

“What is preventing you from believing me? Your religious upbringing, scientific beliefs, or what?” I said challenging the older woman.

“It’s preposterous, you know it is.”

“Any more than the son of a Jewish carpenter being declared a god after he supposedly resurrected from a sealed tomb?”

“That’s different, it’s documented in the holy scriptures.” She blushed, possibly at my blasphemy.

“They aren’t contemporary with the events they describe, and have been doctored since. I’m not trying to disprove your religious beliefs, I’m trying to get you to think outside the box, or however you lot describe lateral thinking.”

“You have to admit, believing in the powers of ancient gods, is pretty unusual?”

“Is it? I used Qabbalistic stuff to escape from Set.”

“Isn’t that Jewish?”

“Originally yes, and yes I used the Hebrew names of God from it.”

“Doesn’t that prove that Judaeo-Christian stuff is stronger than these old pagan ideas.”

“It was Christian insofar as Golden Dawn had Christian roots, but the magick I used predates Christianity by a long chalk.”

“I’d heard it was all done in twelfth century Spain.”

“Only the written commentaries by people such as Isaac Luria, remember it’s an oral tradition, supposedly dating back to Moses if not Abraham. It probably has its origins in Babylonian or Egyptian magick and religion.”

“Anyhow, that’s all academic–how are we gonna catch these sonsofabitch?”

“I’m still working on that. You’re safe for the moment, please don’t go anywhere without telling me.”

“Jamie, I’m President of the United States, I can’t let a few dead Egyptians stop me carrying out my duties.”

“I’m sorry, Madam President, you might have to. If they get it right next time, possibly on a permanent basis.”

“But I’ve got you to stop them.”

“I’m not Superman, you know.”

“I know, Jamie–you’re better–you’re a woman, we’re stronger than men.”

My heart sank a little, how many presidents did they have to kill, she only got in because they got her predecessor, and his vice president was taken ill. After Kennedy, you’d think they’d learn, but Reagan was shot as well although—fortunately—he survived. They don’t seem to learn. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

“I know you will, Jane Bond with magical overtones–how can we lose?” I didn’t like to contradict her, but she had more confidence in me than I did. I almost felt like saying,

‘Don’t you realise how bad these guys are?’ Instead, I went to dinner with Mr Storey.
He was very good company, telling me about his childhood in Baltimore. I suppose staying at the embassy was as close as I’d got to America, being called up and sent to the Middle East didn’t exactly give me much time to explore the world, and I was only nineteen now. I was also aware that I’d killed more men than Billy the kid. I tried to reconcile it with the fact that I might have saved many times that number. In the middle of the dessert this thought assailed me.

“You’ve gone quiet, have I said something to offend you?”

“What? Um no, of course not,” I blushed.

“So what is it?”

“I was just thinking how many men I’ve killed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that man in the Presidential Suite, the Sergeant I microwaved.”

“He was trying to kill you, wasn’t he?”

“Tell that to his wife and kids.”

“He doesn’t have any. Besides, we’re not taking any action against you, so we will describe him as being a casualty of a terrorist attack.”

“Aren’t there witnesses who will say otherwise?”

“I don’t think anyone will say anything, he must have been barbecued by an explosion, there was only one as far as we know. He was killed by person or persons unknown–that’s the official version. You’re not implicated in anyway. You are mentioned as trying to save the President, and succeeding in that task. You might even get a commendation from Congress.”

“No thanks. I’m not into commendations, besides wouldn’t it deflect from all you Yanks doing your best as well?”

He blushed at this remark. “We’re not doing a very good job are we?”

“I don’t know, this dinner has been delicious, even if I couldn’t manage all the steak. How do you people eat all of it?”

“We lead the world in conspicuous consumption, in obesity and diabetes. Need I say more?”

“So why don’t they start the scale down at the top. Surely if the elite ate less, the rest would follow?”

“The elite don’t eat that much; they already know what’s sensible and most are also health and appearance conscious.”

“What about drink?” I said this because he’d had three glasses of wine to my one.

“Ah that’s different,” he winked and ordered another bottle.

That night, I slept in the embassy, and despite all the excitement, I did sleep soundly although I did dream of Egypt and my past life. I knew Set would be livid at my escapades so far. If I lost, eternity would be very difficult, he’d make sure of that. Even in my sleep, I found myself chanting Hebrew God names to keep him at bay and the most vivid of these dreams occurred just before I woke.

I was seated at a table with Robert Storey, we were eating live animals, even the vegetables were screaming at us and bleeding as we cut them. He saw my horrified look and calmly said, “Collateral damage, there’ll be plenty more before my master finishes.”

I was feeling sick when I woke up, and almost vowing never to eat meat again, I’d even look twice at a carrot before I munched my way through it in future. I wondered if something in my dream indicated that Storey was also a bad guy. His master? What was that about? His energies felt fine, he could also have killed me, or was the plan to do that later; after they got the president ? By keeping track of what I was doing, there was more chance of stopping me or laying traps. Damn, this business was so difficult, not knowing who to trust.

I showered and dressed in the clothes that had been left for me, a suit and blouse. If these were from the same donor, she must have a very depleted wardrobe by now. I’d just had breakfast when John and Don arrived. I introduced them to Robert Storey.

Storey led us to an office and we sat with cups of coffee while we discussed what we knew so far. John knew not to say too much, as did Don. “The trail has gone cold, we tried to intercept the aircraft, because at that stage we didn’t know if there was much of a bomb on board or what was going to happen in the embassy.”

“Our forensic team are still going over bits of the aircraft, they worked all night in conjunction with your Special Branch people.” Storey, looked as if he’d been up most of the night as well, he yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long twenty four hours.”

We all agreed on that. “So where do we go from here?” asked Storey.

“Ask Wonder Woman, she’s the navigator.”

“I hope that’s not a jibe at my sense of direction, John Anderson.”

“Jamie, would I do such a thing?”

“I think we keep following up leads and pool what we get, how does that sound?” As I said it, I knew that neither the Yanks nor us would tell everything, we’d be trying to neutralise any further threat.

“Maybe we should have sent one of our guys with you?” said Storey.

“What, and have one of us stay with you?” I asked.

“That wasn’t what I meant entirely, you know, have someone acting as a liaison between our teams.”

“Why don’t we just agree to inform each other of any new information?”

“Why do I get the impression that neither of us is trusting the other?” Storey looked at each of us in turn.

“Several of your countrymen have tried to terminate me. Could that have something to do with it?”

“Yeah, but that was before...” As he looked at Don, I caught sight of his eye, it looked rather reptilian. It was only for a micro-second, but when I tried to probe his energy, it was behind a firewall. There was something not Kosher about Mr Storey. I needed us to get away from here and from him and quickly.

“I need to get some of my own clothes, generous as you people have been, it isn’t quite the same as my own, I also need to visit the office–I asked for some searches to be done, I’d like to see what they found.”

John gave me a very strange look then seemed to read my mind and said nothing. I looked at him and he mentioned the car was outside and he and Don were ready when I was. I think Story was uptight when we left although I did agree to keep him informed of new developments, I think he began to realise that I’d twigged him, which meant we were possibly in more danger than before.

“We’ll meet again, Jamie, hopefully in more happy circumstances.”

I shook his hand and for a moment felt the energy inside it, it wasn’t nice. “For you or me, Mr Storey ?”

“Both of us I’m sure, we’re all working towards the same end, after all.”

“I do hope so, after all remember, the good guys always win.”

“Especially with you around, eh?”

“No, it is written, in the second Book of the Dead, that Set shall have his dominion amongst the dead, but that the world of the living, shall, under the protection of my lord Horus, triumph over the dead and celebrate with my lord Osiris, the victory over death. That means the good guys win...”

“Does it now, sounds more like wishful thinking of some old Egyptian, someone who couldn’t face his own mortality. But then you believe all that stuff, don’t you?”

“We shall see who’s right, won’t we?” The three of us walked towards the car.

“Nice guy,” said Don.

“So why’s Jamie got a problem with him?” John was getting better at reading me.

“I don’t know whose side he’s on, but I strongly suspect it ain’t ours. The car will be bugged and I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Like what?” asked John.

“It’s been tampered with. Oh, maybe I’m imagining things, it’s been a long few days.” I flipped the hair out of my eyes.

“We could get a cab back to the office, get someone to check ours out.” Don, ever the practical one ran ahead and flagged down a cab. About fifteen minutes later we were back at the office.

I checked my mobile, it had a text from Col Bell asking why I wasn’t with the president. I sent him one back, ‘Needed clean knickers!’ I practically savoured it going down like the proverbial lead balloon.

Don had managed to locate the airfield in Surrey, so he went off to sniff about down there. John felt that I was at risk on my own, and insisted on driving with me back to Oxford. We took my mini, because it wasn’t as well known as his 4x4, and an hour and a bit later we emerged at our house. Daddy was there, still researching his Browning.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said pecking him on the cheek, “How’s Bisto going?”

“Hello, darling, Bisto?”

“Yeah, Old Bisto, you know, browning, gravy browning...”

“Oh yes, very droll.” He looked at John and they shook hands, “How are you, young man?”

“Probably owing you and Mrs Curtis an apology.”

“What for?”

“I’ve said some awful things to you about Jamie and this family, and I want to say that I take them all back. I was totally wrong and out of line. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. I hoped you’d eventually understand what Jamie went through and that she’s as near perfect a woman as you’ll ever find, as well as being rather beautiful.”

“Agreed.”

“Look, you two, one of you put the kettle on, I need to collect some clothes, we can’t stop, Daddy, duty calls.”

I packed a suitcase and included some casuals as well as more formal stuff. I also changed into some corduroy jeans and a jumper. I could leave the case in the boot of my car and have small store of clothes to use—and thus, be able to change at the office. They had a shower there, so it could be worse.

After a cuppa and snack, I did some sardines on toast for everyone, we set off back to London, this time John drove and I snoozed. “We’re home,” he said patting my knee.

I looked around, “This isn’t the office.”

“No, it’s my flat.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what I thought.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t brought you back to ravish you, I’ve got two bedrooms. I just thought it would be easier to get an early start than driving from Oxford.”

“Yes, good idea.” He took my case and led me up the steps to his flat. It was on the top floor of an oldish house, but not Victorian or that old. It was a three storey house, and his flat had its own staircase, outside. It was very narrow and the handrail was a bit rickety in places.

“Is this yours or do you rent it?” I asked.

“Why? Looking for a man of property, are you?”

“Not especially, I just thought it might be a good idea to fix the loose handrail and I wanted to know if I complained to you or your landlord.”

“Me. If you think that’s bad wait until you see the bathroom, and the kitchen—maybe you’d better not go in there...”

He opened the door to the flat and bid me enter. The place was immaculate, the bathroom was small but in good order, with a separate loo; as for the kitchen, it was super, smaller than Mum’s but everything was there and the sink was clean and clear of dirty dishes.

“Your room,” he said opening the door to a modest sized bedroom, with a three-quarter bed and small wardrobe and chest of drawers. I felt the bed, it was comfortable.

“Thanks,” I said and kissed him, “Where do you sleep?” He showed me his room, which was larger and had television on top of the chest of drawers. The bed was a double and there were two wardrobes. It looked out over the street. The back garden belongs to the guy on the ground floor, and the woman on the middle floor has the front garden. I however, have the garage, so officially the drive is mine. Did you want to make an inspection, ma’am?”

“Of the drive, Sergeant?”

“No the garage, ma’am.”

“I don’t think I need to do I?”

“It’s where I keep my bike and loads of other stuff.”

“I didn’t know you cycled?”

“Why, do you?”

“Yes, I thought everyone knew that.”

“No, not everyone,” he blushed, “please no jokes about military intelligence.”

“When I saw you and Don, it went up rather a lot in my estimation.” I put my arms around his neck and pulled him towards me, and our lips met. We kissed and my body ached for him, but he pushed us apart.

“Not yet princess, we have work to do.”

“We do?” I pouted feeling disappointed

“We have a band of would-be assassins to catch.”

“Oh, that, yeah.” I shrugged, he was right.

“There’s a nice little curry house down the road, hungry?”

“Um,” I tapped my tummy, “Yes, but not for curry, I’m not terribly keen on them.”

“They do an extra mild one.”

“Do they do any English food?”

“Yeah, I’m sure they do.”

“Okay, let’s go then.” I brushed my hair and put on some fresh lippy and we set off for this Indian restaurant.

The meal was adequate rather than memorable and I felt full and sleepy as we walked back to John’s flat. “So what was wrong with Storey?”

“I don’t know, it almost felt as if he was completely different from the man I had dinner with the night before.”

“What? An imposter?”

“Shit! John you are a genius,” I kissed him hard on the lips and broke off. His face was a picture. “Come on we need to get back to the embassy.”

“Explain, please,” he said as he followed me in running back to his flat.

“I will on the way, come on, we need to hurry or he’s going to be toast.” I didn’t add, ‘he may be already.’