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SNAFU Part 47

by Angharad

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

*****

“Just what do you think has happened?” John asked as he drove my car back towards Grosvenor Square.

“We met a chameleon.”

“What, one of those lizard things that catches flies?”

I nodded.

“Does Storey know someone is keeping pets in his embassy?”

“I’m willing to bet he does, or did.”

“Past tense—that bad is it?”

“I fear so. I couldn’t put my finger on what was so different about him this morning.”

“This morning? Why does that worry me?”

“You’re old fashioned and jealous; both very laudable qualities in a suitor.”

“In a what? Jamie, I thought it was your dad who was doing the historical research?”

“Can we leave my car somewhere near the office and get a cab?”

“I thought we were in a hurry?”

“We are, but I haven’t finished paying for it yet and I’d hate to lose it. Besides, it might help to disguise our approach.”

“Okay,” he drove into the office car park and we left the car, him handing me the keys as we ran out into the street to flag down a cab.

“Where to, Guv?”

“US embassy and make it snappy.”

“Ain’t the President there?”

“I don’t know, but I do know we’re not, so please step on it.”

“Right you are, Guv.” The cabby busied himself with driving his cab. I hoped he couldn’t see the edge of the holster projecting just beyond John’s jacket. I poked it back inside his jacket and told him to do his jacket up. I think he thought I was being flirtatious when I said, ‘your weapon is showing,’ and he glanced down at his trousers. My face fell and he blushed.

“So, what do you think has happened?” John asked changing the subject away from his armament.

“I’m not sure, but they’ve got Storey. The man I had dinner with last night is different to the one you met this morning.”

“Different? Couldn’t he just have had a bad night or something, he has got a lot on his mind.”

“It was a different man, he had lizard eyes.”

“I didn’t notice that, are you sure?”

“I saw them, John, his defences slipped for a moment and I saw what I was feeling: something was very odd about him.”

“You saw what you were feeling?”

“Yes, his energy was very funny, when we shook hands he felt very strange—nothing like last night when I shook hands with the real Storey. This was more like Oliver.”

“I thought you’d dealt with him.”

“Nah, he’s worse than a boomerang kid, he just keeps coming back.”

“Boomerang kid?”

“John, don’t you ever read newspapers?”

“Sometimes, why?”

“Boomerang kids are those who parents encourage them to leave, only for them to return home when they realise how expensive it is to live in their own place. It often happens several times.”

“Yeah, okay–I’ve got ya.”

“Good, now how much longer is this going to take?” I looked out of the window and didn’t recognise anywhere, “This isn’t Grosvenor Square.”

“Hey, Driver, what are you doing?” said John loudly banging on the glass.

“Getting rid of you two,” he called back and pointed a gun at us.

“As soon as he stops, get out,” I hissed at John, “and don’t look back until I tell you.” The cab stopped in a quiet street exactly below a street light. It would be just enough energy to enable me to transform.

In the moment it took him to pull the car into the kerbside, I’d pushed John out and switched into the Egyptian One. No shots were fired, but there was an awful smell of burning flesh and a mess over the cab as his viscera exploded with the sudden heat he felt.

“Jeezz-us,” I heard exclaimed as I switched back. “Did you have to kill him?”

“’Fraid so. Come on we have to run.”

As we did he said, “How long have you been doing that?”

“Doing what?” I glanced into his eyes and wiped that instant from his memory.

“What did you say?” he asked looking perplexed, “I was going to ask you something but I can’t think what?”

“Where will we get a cab round here, perhaps?”

“Could have been, there’s one.” He ran ahead and flagged it down and we jumped inside. This time we got to Grosvenor Square without incident although getting into the embassy was more difficult.

“Mr Storey is out,” said the guard, so I had to give him a little of the fluence and he let us in and gave us visitor badges. He then went and sat at his desk and I instructed him to arrest Storey if he showed up unless I told him otherwise.

“How do you do that?” asked John still trying to remember what I caused him to forget.

“Easy, why?”

“I hope you won’t do it to me.”

“Would I do a thing like that?” I asked innocently.

“Hmmm,” was all he’d say in reply. “Now, oh leonine one, where does your goddess intelligence tell you they’re holding Storey?”

“I think we need to ask it—or them.” John jumped nervously as I called up a pair of lionesses, “Find Robert Storey and let me know where he is—do not let yourselves be seen.” I sent off my search party.

“How long will they take?” asked John feeling less anxious now they’d gone.

“You don’t like my girls, do you?”

“They look so real.”

“They are.”

“Yeah, like real lions can simply walk through walls or doors?”

“How else will they search the place, he’s hardly likely to be sitting in his suite awaiting rescue, is he?”

“How would I know? He could be.”

“You wait here,” I said to John shoving him in an unused office. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Where are you going, Jamie?”

“To check out his rooms.”

“How do you know where they are?”

“Storey and I go way back—but that’s another story. Trust me,” I gave him a huge smile and went off. I met one of the big cats coming out of his rooms—he wasn’t there. Hardly a surprise.

“Excuse me? Should you be up here?” challenged a woman military cop.

“Yeah, just doin’ some liaisin’ with Bob, if ya know what I mean?” I winked at her.

“You that Brit agent who saved the President?”

“Why? You have a problem with that?”

“Hell, no, ma’am, I’d like to shake your hand.” She reached out hers and I’ll never learn, as soon as I put mine in it, she pulled out a gun and pushing it into my abdomen said, “Mr Storey said you was a double agent.”

“I think he might be mistaken. If I was why would I risk my neck saving your president?”

“Don’t evade the issue, you spies are a devious lot.”

“Put the gun away and lets go and see Mr Storey together.”

“I can’t do that, ma’am.”

“If you don’t I shall make a complaint about you.”

“Go ahead, but the gun stays.”

“I see. Might I suggest that a friend of mine is right behind you and she gets nervous when she sees me under threat. She then becomes unpredictable.”

“You cain’t fool me with that ol’ one.” I did try to warn her, I nodded then lioness growled quietly and my would be captress went white and turned around, whereupon four hundred pounds of large moggie reared up and knocked the gun away. I cautioned her to wait before applying any coup de grace, so she sat in front of the woman purring. The WMP went very white and collapsed in my arms. I emptied her pistol and put it back in her holster.

“In a moment you are going to wake up—you’ll feel great, as if you’d just had a refreshing sleep, and you won’t remember challenging me or seeing anything unusual. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she opened her eyes and I helped her to stand up.

“Well, Doreen, you were going to take me to see Bob Storey.”

“I was? Oh yeah, I sure was, this way Capt Curtis.” She led me down to the duty
officer. “We need to see Mr Storey, Loo-tenant.”

“He ain’t here, who’s this anyhow?”

“Capt Curtis, British secret service.”

“You the woman who saved the President?” he asked.

“She is, Sir.”

“Sure good to meet ya, Captain.” We shook hands and this time no guns were drawn or lionesses appeared.

“You know this building pretty well?”

“Like the back of my hand, ma’am,” he replied.

“If I wanted to imprison someone here without being discovered, say for a few days, where would I best do it?”

“What illegally incarcerate someone, like after abduction?” He was quick, this young man, I could see how he’d become an officer.

“There ain’t nowhere, like that, someone would see ya or the CCTV would.”

“So every attic or basement storeroom has CCTV?”

“No, but most corridors do.”

“So, you can see me on TV now, can you?” I asked innocently.

“Sure,” he turned to his monitors and flipped through the channels. “Hey, there’s some malfunction, the camera is on but we cain’t see ya.”

“So they do go wrong then?”

“Not very often, ma’am. I’ll get maintenance on it.”

“Maybe it’s me, I have a funny affect on machines.” Coincidently, as I spoke his whole bank of screens went down.”

“Aw hell an’ tarnation, ma’am, we’ve got a real emergency.”

“Whoa, lieutenant, just wait a second, answer my question and they’ll sort themselves.”

“I cain’t, this here is an emergency.”

“Lieutenant, nothing is more important than my instructions, is it?”

“No, ma’am.”

“So, where would you incarcerate someone?”

“In the basement, ma’am, behind the cleaning stores. No one never goes there.”

“Do you know this place?” I asked the young WMP.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Take me there, would you?”

“Sure will, though it ain’t got nought but spidey cobwebs and dust.”

“I’m sure I’ll cope.” I said smiling.

She led me off to an Otis elevator, and we went down three floors. Then we wandered down several corridors, there was no one about but most of the doors seemed shut and probably locked anyway. On either side of the corridor, appeared a lioness and each of them checked out one of the sides of the corridor. Towards the end, they met with some resistance and came back to flank me. There was something odd about the end room.

“Do you have pass keys?” I asked her.

“For these I do, not the Pres or VP, or the Sec of State. Ya know, VIPs and visiting dignitaries.”

“Could you open this door?” I pointed to the one next to the suspect room. She did looking very perplexed. I put my finger to my lips. The room was an abandoned crockery store, with the odd broken cup and saucer lying about, and helpfully, an intact glass. I quietly shoved it against the wall and listened. Voices were murmuring on the other side of it. I beckoned my guide and invited her to listen. Her perplexed look got much worse.

“What in hell’s goin’ on in there?”

“I don’t know, but unless you have talking detergents and mops, it certainly isn’t cleaning supplies.”

“What d’we do?” she looked very anxious.

“Summon back up, and make sure we loaded our gun?”

She called on her security radio for back up and suggested I leave the area. I suggested differently and she accepted my opinion. The lieutenant arrived two minutes later with two more MPs, big strapping blokes.

He instructed one to open the door. The pass key wouldn’t fit. So the Lieutenant began banging on the door---not always the wisest thing to do when you don’t know what’s behind it.

For a moment nothing happened, then there was a smell of sulphur—God, that was awful and we withdrew to a safe breathing distance. He sent the woman MP to get gas masks. “What the hell is in there?” he asked me.

“I’m not sure, but I suspect it’s Mr Storey and some nasty things to guard him.”

“Nasty like what?”

“You don’t really want to know.”

“How can I beat them then?”

“With difficulty. Get me some salt and a bucket of water.”

“Salt and water? You’re kidding me?”

“It won’t work for long but there’s no sunshine down here, so I can’t do much to help.”

“Guns?”

“Not unless you want to waste ammunition.”

“Shit, what do we do?”

“Throw salt water over anything that moves.”

“Will that stop them?”

“Long enough to attempt a rescue.”

“Of who?”

“Mr Storey,” I smiled.

“But I saw him go out earlier.”

“Ah–ah, you thought you saw him go out.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“There is a subtle difference between actually seeing something and thinking you saw it.”

“Yeah, I know, I ain’t stoopid.”

“I know, Lieutenant, but I’m trying to explain something you wouldn’t understand if I told you the truth.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, we’re dealing with thought forms produced by a group of very powerful sorcerers who want to kill the President.”

“What like Harry Potter?” Oh boy what do these guys do when they grow up?

“Yeah, only this is real, not figments of JK Rowling’s imagination. They can and will hurt you.”

“No shit?”

“Absolutely none, scout’s honour.” I lifted three fingers to my temple to emphasise the point.

The buckets of water and containers of cooking salt arrived, as did another officer with a small explosive device. I took them into a side room and after performing a small ritual blessed the salt and the water. They all had expressions of horror on their faces. I then flicked a small amount of water and salt over each of them.

“This will protect you for about two minutes, once we get entry.” I doused myself with the same.

“I thought garlic was best, ma’am.”

“Not unless you’re planning on casseroling them, then I’d add celeriac, too.” This made everyone laugh and the mood lightened. I mixed the salt into the water and after the required incantations pronounced it ready.

“Throw the salt water over anything and anybody in that room. Ignore what you see, imagine that you have something like Luke Skywalker’s light sabre with you, powered by the sun. Also imagine you are surrounded by a powerful white light. Guns, are useless and you are more likely to get hurt with them—so no guns, Okay?” They all nodded. “I know it sounds strange but trust me, on this.”

Finally, I laid a line of salt halfway along the corridor and charged it. In my incantation I made it act like a firewall which would permit the passage of me and mine but no other elementals or thought forms. I set it flaming watched my two girls looking on from the other side of the line. They would protect our backs as we started the rescue.

The door was blown and with flashlights and gas masks we charged into the room, I cast pentagrams at horrible creatures, and was rewarded with bits of goo flying all over the place. Storey, or I presume it was he, was being guarded by a very large serpent which appeared to breathe sulphurous fumes at any who went near.
I threw a pentagram at its middle which caused the smoke to emerge from there instead, and followed it up with a bucket of the salt water across its face. It had the same effect as pouring salt on a slug—it melted into a mess of sticky slime. I and another MP grabbed the victim we assumed was Storey, he was swathed in bandages and I threw salt water on him just in case. We dragged him out and evacuated the room in just over a minute, closing the door with a padlock as we left. Then with two of the stronger men carrying our rescuee, we ran off down the corridor and back to relative safety.

Once the bandages were removed, we could all see it was Storey, except he seemed in some sort of trance. I couldn’t shift it, so decided to leave it to the doctors to try–it could just be drug induced. He was carted off to the sickbay and a doctor summoned.

“How did ya know he was in there?”

“I didn’t, it was a guess, but if I was the enemy, that’s what I’d have done.”

“Glad you’re on our side, then.”

“Yeah, the side of the angels.” I collected John and we called by to see how Storey was doing. It was a drug and before we left he was conscious and we spoke briefly. He was very tired but thanked me for saving him. I reminded him we hadn’t finished yet, and a nest of vipers in a supposed safe place wasn’t anything to be pleased about. He told me he’d organised a clean-up from a specialist CIA team who dealt with such things. If they were cleaning up for me, I’m not sure I’d be too happy, but they weren’t, so we’d have to make do as we could.

“Thanks,” said John as we left.

“That’s okay.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Why?”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you, not you keeping me out of the line of action.”

“You’re protecting me now,” I said shoving my arm around his waist and making him put his arm around me.

“It’s not the same though, is it?”

“Horses for courses. You keep me physically safe and I keep the bogeymen away.”

“Grrr,” he said as we walked to the cab and all I could do was chuckle.