Longer Than Always

Ed Straker dropped off a large package at Harry Andrews' desk, a desk that for many years Miss Ealand had occupied. Miss Ealand was now Mrs. Dexter, and living in Dorset, married happily, not knowing that Shado was anything but a shape that followed you when the sun was in the right position. The amnesia drug had been improved and modified over the years. As always, it had done its job. Like him, it never faltered.

"See that gets posted right away."

Andrews looked at it sadly. It bore an address in Jamaica that he recognised, with a hotel location for the return address.

"Commander, I-"

"I'm not interested, Andrews. Just see to it. No calls, I don't wish to be disturbed, I have work to catch up on." The Commander disappeared into the relative sanctuary of his studio office. "Straker." His voice sounded weary, even to him, but the mechanical voice recognition response came, and he thumbed the switch for the lift to descend into the bowels of Shado headquarters. It did not surprise him that eyes were quickly diverted elsewhere as he made his way to his office in his characteristic, deft stride, mouth stretched in a line that gave away nothing. He allowed himself one sigh of relief when the doors closed behind him. He could handle anything but their pity, the damnable pity that followed him around like a hungry animal.

As usual, his in tray was full. That in tray was his refuge, he mused. That in tray was his camouflage from a callous world. He picked up a folder, noted that UFO activity continued to pick up in Wales. He'd concentrate on that, double the teams that were already out on duty. He reached for the phone, but it rang, startling him.

"Straker," he said tersely. "Andrews, are you hard of hearing? Maybe I should start looking for someone else who can actually conduct themselves in a professional manner as my executive assistant. I told you I didn't --I see. Tell her I'm not available at the moment. No, never mind, switch me through." He waited a moment. "Yes, Dr. Diaz, I'm here. I'm busy. Are you well? Yes, I did, as a matter of fact I'm sending you the last of his personal belongings now. Are you sure you want me to put your resignation through? We still need you here, you know. I see. Thank you, it was the least I could do for his family. Good-bye. Do I sound preoccupied? Well, I have a lot on my agenda. No. No. Good-bye."

It gave him satisfaction to hammer down the phone in its appropriate cradle. He would not do anything they wanted. Never. He intended to live out the remainder of his life in his way. The people who were trying to interfere with him could go to hell.

A half-hour worked its way into history, and he was nearly at the end of his in-basket of work. Several phone messages memos were at the bottom of the basket, and he knew exactly what they were about. They all had names of callers he knew. Graham Lancaster. Stanley and Frances Brisby. He didn't want to hear their voices. He had shut them out, the way he had shut down the place called Silk Wood Manor. It was a place of the dead now. When he had time, he would bury the ghosts for once and all, and sell it. Sell it to some young newly married couple who still stupidly believed in a thing called hope.

The doors parted, and he took all the messages and tossed them in the vaporiser.

"What do you want, Colonel?" he said without looking up.

"You know Ed, I've got to hand it to you. I forgot what a damn good Intelligence agent you were. I've tried everything to find out where the hell you're staying and where the hell you put her and I've drawn a blank. Mind if I have a drink? I don't suppose you will."

"I'm busy, Colonel."

"There was a time when you called me Alec."

"Its late, Colonel, go home to your daughter. Take the weekend off."

Alec took a glass and filled it with whisky from Ed's dispenser. He drank it in one gulp, and poured himself a second. Ed started to read another folder.

"This has got to end, Ed."

"Go home, while you still have one." Ed muttered without looking up.

Alec threw the glass above Ed's head and it smashed into the colour mural with a loud crack, creating a fissure in it and yet Ed did not stir. He paused for several seconds. When he finally looked up, meeting Alec's eyes, the Australian's were full of rage while Ed's were sullen and empty.

"What did you hope to accomplish from that?" asked Ed.

Alec brought down his fist on Ed's desk with a resounding thump, causing everything on it to shift position. Ed threw down his folder. Alec, with a sweep of his hand, pushed everything off the desk in a fluid motion.

"God damn you, get out of here!" Ed snapped at him. Alec suddenly leapt to his side of the desk, griped the swivel chair with Ed still seated in it, and brought it around to face him.

"Talk to me, Ed. There was a time when you confided in me."

"You're wasting time, leave me the hell alone!"

"I was at Nate's funeral. You gave the eulogy brilliantly. But did you say how you felt about losing a man who was at your side for years, a young delinquent who made the mistake of pick pocketing your wallet for what he thought was a bit of cash, only to find himself at the losing end of your Glock? A man whom with you on his back, after you'd seen the potential in him, turned from just another crook into a professional who saw you as a father figure, and in the end died for you? You think you should have been inside that cosy little Martha's Vineyard cottage, but instead you were walking on the beach. How were you supposed to know that a convict who had been put away by the prosecution in a rape trial in Boston had been released on probation and had wired a simple table lamp to kill your lawyer friend? Only he didn't kill the right person, did he? He blew Nathaniel Zouri to bits."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Carmella says that since she left to go and practice in Jamaica, in the poor section where Nate was born, that you've just sent her Natters belongings, and that you sound like you don't even want to talk to her. She said you didn't even react when she told you she'd found out she was pregnant with his baby. They made love the night before your wedding Ed. Remember the wedding, Ed? Remember Silk Wood Manor?"

"We needed her more here, in Mayland. Someone has to -- never mind."

"Has to replace Claire? Remember Claire Straker? The woman you married just a few days ago? Remember your dead wife?"

"Get out of here. Get out of here now."

Alec grabbed Ed by the arms.

"Ed, you've got to listen to me. Constantine told me the kind of shape you're in. The kind of shape any man would be in if that happened to his wife."

"Don't touch me! You're never to touch me! Nobody is to touch me ever again! Do you understand? How much clearer do I have to make myself? Now get out of here! Don't force me to say it again!" Enraged, Ed rose up and threw Alec aside, onto the floor, and for a moment he seemed to sense the levity of what he'd done. Instead of offering a word or a hand, a startled Alec watched him grab his Nehru jacket, step over his friend and march out of the room, the doors closing behind him. His love was sleeping. She'd sleep forever.

Once she had said to him she'd love him longer than forever. Yet that was a laughable amount of time when compared to the time he would grieve. No shorter than eternity, until the longed-for end came, and the earth swallowed him.

Until then, he'd breathe. He'd exist. He'd survive. But oh, he wouldn't live. He wouldn't live. He got into her car. Her little Volvo.

At one point he turned on a dirt road and instantaneously hit the horn as a car came into his line of sight, headed right straight for him. It was no good, he jerked the wheel, but it was too late, he threw his hands up across his face, and the car smashed right into his, making the world go away.

Not far away, in a private nursing hospital, a patient that was missing several fingers off her right hand, and who had her forehead bandaged, shot straight up in bed. The medical telemetry monitors attached to her all squealed the alarm and nurses and doctors ran in, and stared at her in astonishment. She was pushing the blankets off her, and she looked at her mangled hand, her face contorted, but the expression quickly vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Edward. Edward needs me. Call Mayland Hospital." The words came slowly, and with struggle, but they came.

"I never saw anything like this in my life! She was comatose, brain dead!" one nurse whispered to the doctor.

"Never say anything like that in front of a patient," Claire Straker scolded in that hesitant, painfully slow manner, as though her tongue got in the way of her words. "That was the-that was one of the first things I was taught as an intern." She ignored them examining her, and instead stared unsteadily at her mangled hand. Two and a half fingers were missing. Her lower lip trembled. "I want Edward. Dear God, I want my husband. I know he's-he always comes to see me-I couldn't tell him I could hear him-I want my husband," she screamed.

* * *

Ed Straker was sitting on a plaid chenille throw spread out on a thatch of grass on the hill that surrounded Silk Wood Manor. He was using a Swiss Army Knife to cut an orange he'd chosen out of a wicker picnic basket. A light wind was doing its best to take away his title as man with most perfectly groomed blond hair. He passed a wedge to the winged creature next to him.

"You know, Ed, there are millions and millions of us, and even more millions of you. Not that numbers have any meaning for us. Thanks, I like oranges. Now where was I?"

"You were saying there are millions of Guardian Angels," Ed said, and shoved an orange wedge into his mouth. Still chewing on it, he poured himself a glass of iced coffee, and chose a thick ham club sandwich with extra bacon out of the basket, and offered it to the creature. She took it and he fished around for a similar sandwich for himself, then passed her a Pepsi in a can. "You know, if someone had told me angels like soda pop, I never would have believed them. Go on, I'm listening," he said, seeing her expression, and thinking she looked a lot like Claire.

"I was saying there are millions of us and we're all assigned humans at their birth. And of all the humans, I get this tiny, adorable little boy named Edward. What happens when he grows up? He becomes the most aggravating, insolent, stubborn, pain in the wings an angel ever had to guard."

"Well, that's the turn of the cards. Here, have another orange wedge. Can you actually fly?"

"Ed, don't interrupt me, I wasn't finished."

"I was listening."

"Actually what you're doing is dying, which is why I'm here. What's the matter with you, Ed? Usually you're one of the most reverent humans I've ever known, with perfect faith. You sat at Claire's bedside for all that time and you willed her to live, and you for some reason only a man with a corkscrew mind like yours would come up with, not to share your grief and worry with anyone. Oh no, not you. Instead you disappear and you tell people she died, because you're such a big, strong man you can't lean on your friends when you're in pain."

"I didn't want anyone around us. I didn't want anyone to see her that way, suffering the way she was. She'll never work as a physician again, not with that hand the way it is. Not even the bacteria can grow new fingers. They told me to turn off her life support, and I wouldn't. Then she started to breathe on her own, and they still claimed her brain had stopped functioning. I knew it wasn't true. I thought she'd come back to me. "

"What happened to your faith, Ed?"

"No, a better question is why must I continually suffer when I think I've found happiness at last? Am I being punished for John and Mary? For all the men and women I've had to send to their deaths because they fought the aliens? What kind of a four star General do you work for, anyway? He deserves a court martial for treating a fellow officer this way."

"I take it you're not worried you'll be hit by a lightning bolt for that kind of talk?" she laughed.

"A lightning bolt would be a walk in Regent's Park compared to the last five, six years." he replied sadly. "Why am I dying this time?"

"You've been abusing drugs for days and you have to ask? Pills to sleep, pills to stay awake, pills for depression, pills for anxiety."

"Blame the pharmaceutical companies, not me. I needed something. I had a job, remember? How else was I going to do my duty and stay sane."

"You could have quit Shado and started a normal life."

"A normal life? With a handicapped wife who has to face the fact that her entire life just totally changed? She's as dedicated to medicine as I am to Shado. It'll destroy her. Just as much as it would if I ever lost Shado. I'm going to go on serving even if I have to crawl to work. Forget about me taking any time off, too. You may not give a damn-"

"Ed," she scolded, with a grin and a sip of Pepsi.

"You may not give a rat's behind about numbers, but Henderson's sister does, and I had to go on both knees just to get two weeks worth of honeymoon time. She'll try and get me removed from Shado after this. I just know it. She isn't as benevolent as people think. She's Genghis Khan in a Marks and Spencer dress. Besides, I don't care what happens to me. Why should I?"

"Because other people do. Like Alec Freeman, who was trying to goad you into sanity, so he could help you. You hit Alec Freeman."

"An M47 'General Patton' tank could hit Alec Freeman and not leave a scratch." Ed shrugged. "So am I dead?"

"You're going to be okay, just flat on your back a while. You should know by now that you're a favourite of Whom you call a four star General. That's why He guided you to the set of circumstances that got you infected with the bacteria to keep you around, which is going to kick in any moment now, and detoxify your body. The same bacteria that did precisely that same thing in the body of your soul-mate Claire Spencer Straker, who is yelling at the floor nurse at this very minute, demanding she be given a phone." The creature smiled. "Incidentally, Ed, Eugenia, or Gene as she prefers to call herself, pulled you to safety or you would have been blown up with the Volvo. You're going to get to know Eugenia very well." she smiled.

Ed dropped the sandwich he'd been about to take a bite out of to the grass, and stared. Then light came into the solemn blue eyes for the first time in days. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"Claire is all right?" he stammered.

"Would your Guardian angel lie to you? Just ask Stanley, he'd be shocked you'd even ask that question. Claire started to come out of the coma the moment you were injured, and the second they began to lift you onto the stretcher and into the medical helicopter, by the way that gadget is a poor excuse for an angel," the creature added, fluttering her wings with a touch of pride, "the moment they did that, she sensed your pain, even in your unconscious state, and she woke up. Normally her speech centre and other functions would be affected by the brain injury caused by the blast, but the bacteria is speeding along her complete recovery."

"She needs me! Send me back," Ed Straker commanded in all his former glory, standing up.

"I'm not keeping you here. Godspeed, Ed." the creature smiled.

Ed Straker gave a prolonged scream of pain, and thrashed about as the doctors held him down, fastening harness straps around him. He gasped, and his head fell back hard against the pillow, and he was sweating profusely. Alec, who had gone white at seeing Ed in terrible agony, spoke softly to him as he wiped his friend's forehead gently with a damp flannel.

"Easy, Ed. Your leg was broken and they had to straighten it out so they could set it. You were too full of barbiturates and sedatives and God knows what else for them to give you any additional pain medication. You had a seizure on the way here, we almost lost you." Alec said sorrowfully, grasping Ed's hand. "I'm an idiot for not recognizing that you'd drug yourself up to the eyeballs. I thought your behaviour was odd. Thank God we finally tracked down where you were. I put a homing device on you when I grabbed you in the office."

"Alec. Claire's alive. Fairleigh Hospital. Alive."

Alec looked grave.

"Ed, she died in the-"

"ALIVE! I had her put in private hospital. Under the name Nightingale. Claire Nightingale. Call them, please. Please. The angel said she was awake. She needs me, Alec. Her life isn't going to be the same again. She lost part of her right hand, she lost fingers. They said she was brain dead, they said a lot of things. I knew she wouldn't leave me. I couldn't have lived if she'd left me alone. I pleaded with her to wake up and she never did. Please, please, Alec. Please." Ed's fingers closed tightly around the Australian's. Alec gawked at Ed.

"You son-of-a-bitch! You told us all she was dead. Why in the hell did you say she was dead?"

"I don't know, I went a little berserk, I've been taking pills like they were candy ever since the bomb went off. I can't remember when I slept last, I'd just stay with her instead of sleeping and then go back to work. Please Alec. Please."

Alec dug in his jacket for his mobile, muttering several not so polite statements about the trials and tribulations of having Ed for a friend.

"Fairleigh, you said?"

"Fairleigh. Can I have some water? I'm so thirsty," Ed groaned.

"Doctor?" Alec asked. "Can I give him some water and then have some privacy with him?"

"Sure, just make sure he doesn't go anywhere, we may want to put a couple of steel pins to hold that leg together as soon as he is strong enough for surgery, but for now, that brace will do."

Alec's mobile rang and he put down the pitcher of water he'd picked up.

"Freeman. Yes, this is Alec Freeman. WHAT? Yes. Yes. What shape is she in? Heh heh heh, well she's a Straker now, causing hell and wrecking things comes with being given that name. Yeah. Yeah. He has? Yeah, sure. I'll pay the taxi to pick her up and the personal nurse to accompany her, and you can bill Mr. Straker for expenses. Mayland Hospital, yes. Casualty department. Tell her Ed's going to need her and she has to hang in there, and he isn't going to care how many fingers she has, or how she looks. Tell her he's pretty banged up, but that a woman that acts like a cross between an Amazon and a succubus saved his skinny arse. Tell her as usual, I don't have the sense to leave his side and that I'll be with him until she gets here."

"Tell her I love her," whispered Ed, closing his eyes weakly.

"Tell her Ed just said he loves her."

"Don't tell her I totalled her car." Ed said with a suggestion of a smile on his lips, without opening his eyes.

"Tell her Ed turned her car into scrap metal and she can beat the shit out of him when she gets here. Yeah. Goodbye."

"Alec?" Ed whispered, opening his eyes again. "Don't go."

"Calm down, I'm the one who's brain dead, having you as my best friend. Here, drink a little. Slowly now. I'll raise your bed, that'll be easier. They're getting your usual suite ready upstairs. Slow, now. That's it. Don't worry about getting water on that gown, Mayland has plenty of them." Alec put Ed's glass down and took his hand in his and absent-mindedly patted it, content.

"She must like malt whiskey."

"Claire? Are you kidding? She probably wouldn't even be able to read the label."

"Not my Claire. Your guardian angel. She must like malt whiskey. Mine likes Pepsi," Ed said sleepily, holding on to Alec's hand tightly.

"You're more badly hurt than they thought."

"She likes oranges too, Alec. And she had such beautiful wings. Beautiful wings..." Ed's eyelids closed and he settled into sleep.

"Angels that drink malt whiskey," muttered Alec, tucking the blanket in around Ed's sleeping form. He pulled his chair a little closer, and something on the stool across from Ed's bed caught his eye. A shimmering bottle of malt whiskey.

"Shit. Now I'm hallucinating." Alec rubbed his eyes, and looked again. It wasn't there. Did he hear a musical chuckle? Hell no, he was only worried about Ed, that was it. Anyone would imagine things with a friend like Ed, and the scrapes he got into.

But he looked around nervously before he turned his attention back to Ed, where it belonged.

* * *

Ed Straker, two days later, obviously must have been feeling better, because he had been yelling (well all right, what Ed was doing wasn't exactly yelling, not in Ed's condition) at Alec ever since he'd woke up in his customary rooms at Mayland Hospital.

"Ed, they'll let her come up as soon as they check her over. They wanted to do some microsurgery on that hand of hers."

"They can do it later, I want to see my wife!"

"Stop working yourself into a tizzy. You don't have the energy to spare. You make a Nazi concentration camp victim look like Luciano Pavarotti. Now eat your breakfast."

Ed made a sound which was a cross between a growl and a whimper, and picked up the plate from the aluminium tray and used it as a catapult to hurl the breakfast at Alec. Alec stood there calmly, removing bits of tomato and scrambled eggs from his lapel. He went over to Ed's bed, and took away Ed's coffee. The amazingly blue eyes widened.

"Alec Freeman, put that back now. That's an order. I put you on the floor once, I can do it again."

"You're so weak, you couldn't arm wrestle a baby, but you're certainly acting like one. Besides, if you insist on playing with your food, you can't have your coffee."

"Give me the coffee, Alec, or as God is my witness, I'll sack you."

"Pathetic, isn't it, the way addicts carry on." Alec remarked, and sipped Ed's coffee. "Hey, this isn't the Interceptor fuel we get at the Shado restaurant, this is actually French Roast. So this is how the ruling class live, eh? We peasants get the weak crap in the paper cups, you blue bloods get the best stuff in porcelain mugs."

"You're calling me an addict? You? The Australian with 100 proof breath? I'm going to put more craters on that pockmarked face of yours, Alec. I'm going to get out of this bed and take off this damn cast and beat the thinning hair follicles out of you."

"You try it and a dozen Shado security men will snap you in half like a Parker pen, since I'm acting head of Shado. Incidentally, Ed, I've been talking with Claire, and she reminded me all your luggage and hers was in that cottage that blew up."

"Your point is?" Ed responded, watching Alec drink his coffee out of his mug in resentment.

"It hasn't sunk into that silver head of yours? The emperor has no clothes."

"Oh......my......God. My clothes. My suits. My underwear. My Nehrus. Gone."

"I hear Harrods is having a July sale," the Australian suggested brightly.

"My tailor is going to require hospitalisation when he hears about this," Ed moaned, sinking down in the bed.

"I don't think Nathaniel would want you to be without someone to annoy you, so I stick to your side, which shows how stupid I am."

"I miss Nate a great deal, Alec. I haven't let myself think about him much, I never knew how attached I was to him. I took your advice and called Carmella, tried to get her to come back, but she just said she was so glad Claire was alive, and that she was happy with Nate's family, and she couldn't wait for the baby to be born, but that she was going to stay in Jamaica." Ed's voice trailed off.

"Don't look so glum, if Claire comes and sees you like that she'll beat the hell out of me. Plus if you don't eat, she'll stomp on whatever is left of me after she finishes with me. Now shall I order another breakfast for you or do you want to just eat the eggs and bacon off my suit?"

"I want some coffee. I get coffee, I eat."

"I see the Commander is still his wonderful, cooperative self." Graham Lancaster said from behind Alec. "Nice egg on your suit, Alec. Matches your complexion."

Alec grinned and got on the phone to the kitchen to order Ed's breakfast.

"Graham, what the hell are you doing here? I have the vague memory of sacking you. Are those daffodils for me?" Ed asked. He seemed happy to see him.

"I was hoping you'd hire me back. From what Alec told me, when my good friend Nathaniel went to sartorial heaven, so did all the clothes I helped you and Mrs. Straker pack. I thought you'd need someone to drive you and Mrs. Straker around to do clothes shopping. Plus the larder at Silk Wood Manor will need refilling."

"I suppose so. Are those daffodils for me? Don't tell me, let me guess. Frances sent them?"

"Yes, Sir. She's out with Angel in the corridor. We all went to see Mrs. Straker in the recovery room. She looked well, although she was complaining they wouldn't let them see you yet, a bit groggily. Can I bring the Brisbies in?"

"I guess I better prepare myself for a lecture about how thin I am," sighed Ed, but he looked considerably contented, thought Alec, opening the curtains and letting the sun in.

"You're skin and bones, Straker." Alec said, washing out Ed's cup and pouring fresh coffee with two sugars in cream for Ed in it.

"Shut up, Alec and hurry up with that coffee. Then see if you can find me a comb and mirror, and my God, I haven't shaved in a while, I can't have visitors looking like this," Ed said, feeling his chin.

"Actually you look very dashing with a moustache and beard, Sir."

Ed grinned, hunted for and found the gadget that raised his bed as Graham arranged the daffodils in a vase, and added them to the other flower arrangements Alec had brought in to make Ed's hospital room more cheerful. Alec handed him his coffee, then after a few satisfying sips, Ed allowed Alec to hold up a mirror as Ed shaved with an electric shaver from the night table drawer. It was a slow process, since Ed was still shaky. Alec didn't bother to offer to do it for Ed, knowing Ed would never allow himself to show dependence on Alec in front of Graham, proud twit that the Commander was.

"I miss my straight razor already. Think we could sue British Airlines to get it back?"

"We could, but you'd probably slit your throat with it, considering how bad you're shaking. That looks fine, Ed. Want a splash of aftershave?"

"I guess I lost the stuff Claire gave me in the explosion. Alec, how is she, how is she really?"

"She's hanging in there until she sees you. The physical therapy types are telling her she might actually have some control of her injured hand, maybe even be able to close and open the fingers she has left. For a while though, she'll just have to feel you up with her left hand when you two finally have that honeymoon that got interrupted."

"Alec."

"Yes, Sir?" Alec grinned.

"Oh, never mind. It's so good to have your crude, uncensored self around me again."

"Did he just pay me a compliment?" Alec asked Graham.

"My Lord. I think he actually did. Perhaps he's got a fever."

"Clowns. Both of you. God, look at my hair. I look like a hedgehog caught in an electric current. Okay, I think I'm ready to face my public."

There was a knock on the door, and Graham answered it. In came Keith Ford. Ed was startled for maybe a nanosecond, and then he sat up with no less intimidation and dignity than he did when he was seated at his desk.

"You look well, Sir."

"Don't be an arse, Lieutenant. What's this about?"

"If I could speak to you and Colonel Freeman in private."

"I'll see you later, Lancaster."

"I know when I'm not wanted." Graham smiled and slipped out the door.

Alec was gruff. Not that the evidence of that was any new revelation, thought Ed.

"Commander Straker is on medical leave Keith, whatever this is, it's trouble he doesn't need right now. I'm in char-" Alec saw that Keith for a moment was distracted with studying the eggy stain on the Australian's jacket in quizzically. "I'm in charge. Now what is this all about?"

Ed had quietly folded his arms, waiting, stern and he knew only Alec, who had known him since man had invented the wheel, caught the amusement in the Commander's blue eyes. The potential for blackmail was overwhelming, but Alec usually went by Marquis of Queensbury rules and he decided not to worry about the possibility that Alec would tell Keith Ford that the Shado Commander had doused Alec with egg in a moment of frustration and helplessness.

Not yet, anyway, Ed thought with concealed amusement.

"This concerns the Commander directly."

Keith produced a file from a folder. The folder had the heading "Appropriation for food supplies" Ed took it from him with only mild surprise. Unless the Lieutenant had a death wish, this was no joke. Ed reached for the bifocals which he occasionally used for reading, and started in on the pages of small print and studied the photocopies inside. Minutes went by. Alec watched the blood drain out of his face. Finally, Ed removed the bifocals and looked at Keith Ford. "This was your pet project. I see that all the necessary verification is here. Well, well, well. When the dust is settled on this matter, I'll see about getting you Captain's stripes."

"How will we handle this, Sir?"

"Alec will go directly to the Commission with what he's found. Then, I confront Angela Henderson. The rise of UFO activity in Wales suddenly takes on a new clarity for me. The material in this report you and your staff put together cannot be ignored or overlooked."

"Will someone tell me what the fuck this is all about?" Alec growled, taking his usual chair at Ed's bedside. It was a familiar tableau.

"Fuck is a splendid word for a situation as grave as this one. Alec, you'll recall that General James Henderson's car, with Agatha Henderson in it, was attacked by a UFO in a confrontation that cost Henderson his life. It seems that he and his sister were returning from Pontypridd, Wales when the UFO hit. Well, Alec, I had other matters on my mind when General Henderson was killed. So it never occurred to me to question that he'd have a sister who would take his place as holder of the purse strings. Even though I worked under him, and finally at his side for several years as we investigated the alien threat and I helped him put together the blueprint for Shado, and in that time he never mentioned one. Alec, pour yourself a whiskey and get me another cup of coffee, I think we're going to need our wits about us for this little caper. Anyway, Henderson didn't talk much about his personal life. I knew only that he'd had a marriage that didn't work out and he was paying alimony through the nose. As a matter of fact he once remarked to me that what was needed in this business was an understanding wife. But I digress. Well, our enterprising Lieutenant Ford here has found solid evidence that Agatha Henderson isn't Henderson's sister at all. She's someone malleable the aliens found, lured with visions of grandeur and they used her to convince him that he did indeed have family, a sister he never knew about. They used her to pick his brain in the last years of his life when cancer was eating away at his body, when he was most vulnerable, and when that didn't work, they staged the UFO attack and killed him and she miraculously escaped, because they enabled her to."

"Shit!"

"It gets better, Alec. She, with the assistance of the aliens, managed to forge documents to be conveniently left in his safe, indicating that he was leaving her his estate, and his wish was that she occupy his position of authority after his death. In time, her intent was to get me out of the way, and slowly but surely bring down Shado headquarters by making subtle changes here and there in all our systems, until we, and Earth was wide open for a major invasion starting in Wales. Remember the unexplained failure of the sprinkler system in my studio office? The idiocy of not getting it checked out? She had intended to trap me in my office and burn me alive, but Jeffrey Blaine's stupid error in leaving an unattended burner made life easier for her. Only I wasn't there that day. Then there was the incident with my personal jet recently. Engine trouble in the Dassault Falcon. Only she hadn't counted on how diligent my mechanics are. I wouldn't be surprised at all if she had a hand in the bomb blast at the cottage at Martha's Vineyard. She certainly knew exactly where I was going, I told her. In the meantime Ford here was beginning to intercept some strange changes in SID's day to day programming. The orders seemed innocent enough, but eventually would have put SID out of commission altogether. No wonder she's been relatively cooperative with me when I'd approach the commission for funding. She was sitting on this little gem. She never expected that Ford and other staff assisting him would find the crack in it. Well, since I'm laid up here, you and Alec will have to handle this for the most part. First, I want all codes and security criteria and implementation changed immediately. I want SID rechecked to make sure there is no systems failure or crash. I want Shado shutdown procedures and command codes changed with only we three gentlemen aware of it. I want a secret video conference briefing of senior staff members with the assurance that any order or change Agatha Henderson tries to implement behind Alec's back will be acknowledged but not carried out. And then, finally, I want a simulation of Shado being brought to its knees, and I want it to look good. The UFO attack will come from the coordinates in Wales that are in the folder, and everything that flies will be secretly standing by to knock the bastards out of the sky for good. Finally, I will handle Agatha Henderson. The penalty in a military organization for treason is a firing squad. That won't be necessary, I can shoot straight enough. She tried to fill a General's shoes. Let's see if she dies like one."

The expression in Ed Straker's face was no less devastating than an atomic bomb at ground zero. Alec imagined he could even feel the heat coming off the Commander. Even Keith Ford, who must have reasonably predicted Straker's reaction to what he'd turned up, took an involuntary step backward at the pure hostility revealed in the beautifully boned face. Well, this was one fallout Alec Freeman intended to stay in.

"Lieutenant, you did fine work. Dismissed. Colonel Freeman will be in touch with you. Keep me informed."

"Yes, Sir."

Alec waited for Keith to go, and handed Ed his coffee. Ed turned the cup of coffee around in his hands without tasting it.

"You're quiet, Alec."

"Agatha whatever her last name is made two mistakes," Alec said, after a good long pull at his whisky.

"And those would be?"

"First, she plotted to bring down Shado headquarters."

"Not a wise decision, I agree."

"The second was a far more idiotic blunder."

"I'm waiting, Alec." Ed said with a suggestion of a smile. The two men exchanged one of their rare, mutual admiration glances at one another. Visual hugs.

"I figure you'd know what was coming."

"I can guess. She tried to harm me."

"Yeah. And for some reason that gets me riled up."

"It doesn't exactly warm the cockleshells of my heart either, Colonel," Ed said with a chuckle.

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. Well, Boy Wonder Keith Ford has certainly got my work cut out for me. He earned that promotion. I better go and get your adoring public, then report to Shado and later on Claire will come and see you when Constantine and the others get finished with her."

"Alec."

"Yeah, Ed?"

"I'll be in this hospital room alone with an 800 pound cast on my leg and a physique that would make a 90 pound weakling look like that Austrian fellow, Arnold something or other."

"AH-nold." Alec grinned. "Besides, you have standard Shado security outside your door at all times, and I think Graham is armed."

"Yes. If you say so. At any rate I'll be still feeling helpless."

"You? Helpless? Bullshit."

"Helpless." Ed repeated firmly. "So I think you better equip Miss Kingsley with the proper toys and have her come spend sometime with me. If she's going to be in my face for the next couple of years we might as well get to know one another. Put her on the payroll. Throw her in the sea without teaching her to swim. Something tells me she won't sink."

"Ed."

"Alec?"

"The next time you throw egg at me it won't be the aliens you have to worry about."

"Nonsense, Alec. The two of us couldn't hurt a fly if we tried, not at our ages. We're a couple of pussycats. Now go find out what's holding my breakfast, and the Brisbies up. And tell Graham the first thing I want to buy is some decent aftershave and then a brand new Volvo for Claire, not necessarily in that order, come to think of it. At any rate Joel sent me a rather substantial cheque both for the Foundation and to compensate me for what happened at the cottage, so I should start accumulating a wardrobe again soon. And most likely a new tailor."

"After what I saw in your face a couple of minutes ago, if you're a pussycat I'd hate to see what a full grown lion looked like."

Ed grinned at Alec. He watched him go out. Then he sank against the pillow again, weary. His fingers drummed against the cup in frustration. With a sudden movement he threw off the blanket and stared at the cast protruding from underneath his inadequate hospital gown, and sighed. He was due for surgery again in a couple of days to have the damned steel pins inserted again. He stared at the wheelchair in the corner of the room that he realised would have his name on it for the next couple of months. The room suddenly seemed cold, and he covered himself up again, and finished his coffee.

"Claire." he said to the empty room. He pinched his nose and sighed deeply again, and stared out the window in silent misery. Eventually the noon sun filtered in and threw a shadow to cover him that made it appear as though he was behind a cell door.

* * *

Time passed, and a woman slipped inside his room tentatively, carefully balancing a tray with his breakfast and a single rose in a crystal vase in her left hand. Seeing him, she set down the tray and drew a chair near him, and sat. She listened to his breathing as if it was a choir of angels, quietly weeping with joy. He was deeply asleep. Pain was etched into his features like scrimshaw on ivory. After a while, his eyes moved rapidly beneath his pale lids. Rapid eye movements, she realised. Dreams. Her husband was dreaming.

"No, no, Claire, don't, don't," Ed muttered. "I can't lose you again!"

"Edward, sweetheart, it's all right, oh my darling. Wake up."

Ed stirred, and he focused and she smiled at him.

"Claire, Claire!"

"I'm here, I'm here finally, it's all right, let me hold you. Oh God, you're so frail!"

"I'm fine now. I'm finally all right. We're together."

"Frances better work overtime to fatten you up is all I can say. Oh you feel so good to me. You smell nice. Standard gift shop aftershave isn't bad."

"Claire, don't nuzzle me like that, I'll have to go take a cold shower."

"We could manage with the leg cast."

"Frances and Angel would walk in on us," he whispered into her neck.

"They've been married for twenty-odd years, it wouldn't come as a shock to them."

"I missed you, God, I missed you. I'm just having you grafted on to my skin, then I'll feel normal and I won't long for you when I'm away."

"Edward, my hand--"

"Doesn't matter a tinker's damn to me. The most beautiful hand in the world. I know. I'll find you a job that's just as satisfying as your work here was.

Claire, Why do we get cheated out of everything normal people have. I'm beginning to resent it. Know what else I'm beginning to resent? The Brisbies not bothering to see me."

"They went to Silk Wood Manor. You're going to be surprised by the renovations going on in our home. You remember our home, the one you almost sold?"

"Don't start in on me, you were in a coma and you didn't exactly sit up and sing a chorus of Handel's Messiah."

"Don't you complain about me being in a coma, you killed my car in cold oil."

"You have nothing to bitch about, all my clothes are ruined."

"You can go to Shado in that backless number you're wearing."

"Yeah, that ought to finally improve my popularity there."

"I've always said you had nice legs."

"For a stork."

They looked at one another for a long time, then broke into tears.

"God, have you got any idea of how dark this world is without you here next to me?"

"I'll never let you go again Edward. I'll never do this to you again."

"If I hadn't been so selfish, I might have been with you in that blast, I might have saved you and Nathaniel."

"None of us would have survived and what would that have accomplished. Pins and needles, Edward. Water over the bridge. We're here now. Listen, I have to go."

"Damn it, no!"

"Just for a half hour. Physical therapy. Besides your bodyguard trainee is waiting for you."

"Three seconds ago you promised never to leave me again. I'm going with you to PT. I won't hear a word of protest against it. I can talk to her there. Damn it Claire, I can't stand this feeling of helplessness I get from being in this contraption."

"I can't help but resent Carmella from not coming back and doing the reconstructive surgery on your bones . She was the best woman in orthopaedics for miles around. We'll find someone though. Just look at us, Edward. We have more screws and bolts in us than a automobile."

"Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein, I know. At least we're breathing. When am I getting this fucking thing off? It itches like hell."

"Month if you're lucky. Maybe more. After they put the pins in. Thank God that woman pulled you out of my car. I wouldn't have wanted to wake up to a world in which I'd have to bury you. I could hear you talking to me while I was in the hospital. I just couldn't respond. I knew something had happened to you, I know when you're hurting."

"I prided myself on never needing anyone. You shot that to hell."

"Thank God I did. If you had to try and live under the pressures that you do without anyone caring about you, you would have shrivelled up into a ball. There's only so much comfort and security you can have from Alec being around. You keep a certain part of yourself locked away from even that teddy bear of an Australian. That's why you need me to remind you it's okay to be human, that nobody is going to come and point fingers at you and lock you in a dungeon because you allow yourself the luxury of feelings. God, Edward, you're one of those most human humans I know. It doesn't take away from your toughness one iota. Thank God for it too. Alec told me about Agatha Henderson. The little bitch. I'd like to shove what's left of my hand down her throat."

"I don't remember you being this combative. I think I better have Constantine give you the once over."

"Oh pleeeeease. If I hear one more word from her about adjusting to my handicap and the ability of the human animal to adapt, I'll throw up. She did have one piece of good news. The results of the extensive research she did on Jackson's project shows we aren't dying at all. He just was shooting himself up with way too much of the bacteria he cultured from the samples of our blood cells. Our blood right now is teaming with the little critters, because our immune systems have kicked in fighting our injuries. Once we settle down, the bacteria will go back to being their quiet little dormant selves again." Claire appeared jubilant.

Ed closed his eyes tightly in relief for a second.

"Thank God. Thank God. I'll have to track my angel down and have her convey my apologies to the General. And break out another can of coke for her. Or is it Pepsi she liked?"

"Husband, what in the name of Hippocrates are you talking about?"

"Dream."

"I'm beginning to get jealous of you dreaming about anything other than me. Now if you insist on coming along and browbeating and intimidating the poor PT technician I've got to get you into that wheelchair."

"You better find me a robe then, or else the entire hospital will be able to see whether I'm circumcised or not in this skimpy outfit."

"Thank God you aren't. I couldn't stand the thought of even missing out on that part of your delicious skin. Damn it but you're a sexy man. Must be the cast. Erotic."

"You've definitely fallen on your head somewhere along the way. I have no memory of your hormones impairing your brain cells like this, but I like it. We can tell that PT fellow that there are more forms of physical therapy then he can shake a rubber ball at."

"God! Don't say the word ball! I'm facing months of squeezing that thing."

Ed looked meaningfully down at his hospital gown with a wince and she grinned.

"That isn't what I'm talking about." Claire protested, stroking his downy chest hairs, and feeling the tiny stubs of beard the electric shaver had left behind around his mouth as she kissed him, and he returned it with enthusiasm. She could feel some of the tension leave his body, but she knew because of the Henderson problem his reflexes were like a Slinky toy, all coiled up, wanting to set off by itself.

"You're doing a great job of physical therapy, but its benefiting me, not that hand of yours," he said at length.

"All right if we come in?" Alec stuck his head in, Graham followed suit.

"No." the Strakers responded in unison, but were outnumbered. A middle-aged woman came into the room with them that Ed didn't recognise. She looked at Claire for a good ten seconds as Alec started up the coffeemaker and Graham pulled the wheelchair up, drawing a sour look from him that made Claire snicker.

"I apologise to butt in on your personal life, Commander, but we've got everything set up at your home for the video conference. We're temporarily going to fake a communications breakdown to set it up, make it look like a mass security glitch while you get the word out to your departments. The subject is under scrutiny constantly, we have her domicile wired, we've tracked down all her Internet, phone and mail connections for the last year. It's all in the report, Sir. Judging by the UFO activity in Wales, something's in the books like you guessed. We'll just speed things along to make them show their hand. I made some suggestions on security protocols at Silk Wood Manor, we'll want to get you into some training to get you back on your feet at least figuratively, the safe house set up is all ready to go, the new technologies are relatively secure and unobtrusive, we have the helipad finished at last and we've taken your personal Shado car and upgraded the standards in it, and put in a few toys you might appreciate."

"Two questions." the Commander said crisply.

"Of course, Sir."

"Who the hell are you and do you actually breathe between sentences?" Ed said. Alec guffawed, Graham rolled his eyes and Claire grinned as the woman extended a hand and Ed shook it, looking into the woman's eyes, measuring her worth in the blink of an eye.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm head of security at the Canadian Shado headquarters, and Alec rang me and assigned me to this operation. He also suggested I handle matters for you until you replace Nathaniel Zouri. I haven't met your wife, Sir."

"I think Edward wanted to know your name." Claire said, extending her good hand.

"Lane. Yvonne Lane. Alec and Graham tell me you're considering a new car. I suggest you just take one of the Shado cars. It will be easy enough to make modifications to the steering wheel so that you won't have any trouble with the injured hand. I heard what happened of course. To both of you. We all did. There's no way to express how sorry we are. Mrs. Straker, if I could just comment on something, I worked hotel security for an AMA convention of surgeons your father attended. Very nice man. Charming man. Commander, we're here to transport you to Silk Wood Manor, and Graham even has a temporary wardrobe for you. I figure whether you were circumcised is your personal business." At Ed's cup and saucer sized eyes, she reminded him, "Your room is wired and on video for security reasons, Sir."

"Just as long as someone doesn't upload the two of them groping each other the way they were a minute ago as streaming video to the Internet," Alec said.

"Alec."

"Yes, Mein Kommandant?"

"Forget what I said earlier, it isn't good to have you back around me."

"Oh stop picking on Alec. Come on, let's get you into your clothes. I can forget about my pt session for now," Claire said, snickering.

"Cover the camera first, Colonel Freeman." Ed crossed his arms. "You'll find the camera lens in that sculpture on the window ledge that you brought me as a get well pressie."

"You're too observant for your own good, Ed." Alec said, crossing over to the sculpture and picking it up.

"You bring a abstract bronze sculpture into my room Alec , and I start to wonder what you're up to. Just because my leg is smashed up and in this cast, it doesn't mean my brain is. You're not a man who has that much interest in having art around unless its a Baccarat liquor decanter. But you're crafty."

"Actually Mrs. Straker could go to her PT session, I can walk her there and stay with her until its over. No reason to believe that she isn't in the same danger you are, Sir. Colonel Freeman and Mr. Lancaster have stressed to me that as long as Mrs. Straker is secure, you're secure, and as long as you're secure so is Shado. Your well being depends partially on her. As well as my department doing its job too, Sir."

"Sound reasoning." Ed looked at Alec and Alec nodded. "Go with her, Claire. I can put myself at these gentlemen's mercies with reasonable safety. I think."

"We got the clothing we brought for you from Nathaniel's wardrobe at Silk Wood Manor, Ed." Alec said casually. "I particularly think you'll love the red silk shirt with the little gold dice pattern on it."

Ed Straker's expression turned to sheer desperation and Claire giggled.

"I can't stand the sight of blood so I better go."

"Blood?" Yvonne said in puzzlement.

"Alec's and Graham's if they actually try to make my husband wear one of Nathaniel's shirts." Claire said, remembering fully well that all of Nathaniel's things had gone to Carmella and a few of Nathaniel's buddies in Shado.

The two women went out.

"Fill me in on that woman, Alec," Ed said in no uncertain terms as Graham assisted him in sitting up on the edge of the bed, and Alec handed him a cafe au lait.

"I thought you were asleep when I brought that sculpture in."

"That's what you were supposed to think. So why did you bring Yvonne Lane into my already crowded life?" The Shado Commander sipped the beverage, thinking Alec was getting to where moonlighting as a barista was a definite possibility and then gave it back to Alec. Graham helped Ed slip on a short white cotton robe, and helped him settle into the wheelchair, and took him into the bathroom. Alec took a report out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Ed.

"Summarise it for Christ's sake, Alec. I'm a busy man."

"Okay, okay. I think Yvonne is the person to take over Nate's position. I've known her for about a year now. A little anal retentive, but not so much that she is closed-minded when the situation calls for thinking outside the box. Great qualifications. Perfect resume. Fairly solid psych profile."

"Graham, in future, I like colder showers," Ed said, holding on to the railing and stepping under the warm spray. Ed revelled in the feel of the Bronnley lemon and lime scented shower gel on his skin and stepped fully under the water, flattening his hair and humming to himself as he lathered up and used the hand spray to flush the foam off. "Christ, it feels good to actually get clean. I was beginning to kill the plants in the room with my sweat. Okay, let's get me dry, groomed and deodorised then into that red silk shirt with the tasteful gold dice print, Alec."

Fortunately for the annuals of sartorial history, Ed Straker knew Alec and Graham couldn't produce the dreaded garment in fact, so instead he wore a blue pinstripe button down Turnbull and Aster borrowed from Graham and a pair of grey off the peg pleated trousers that his tailor had hurriedly adjusted so that they fit over the cast. He hadn't bothered with the tie, and Graham had protested so much it seems like the end days were coming, or something. And to think Claire says I'm fussy about my appearance? For the sake of a peaceful life he'd accepted the burgundy tie, ignoring Alec's grins. The few belongings he still had were all packed up neatly, and he slowly got into the Chinook helicopter that awaited him on the roof of Mayland Hospital, glad to be rid of the wheelchair. On a whim, Alec had traded places with him and had allowed him to fly it himself to Silk Wood Manor. His content mood lasted until he removed his headset, and transformed from Ed Straker, private citizen to Ed Straker, not all that benevolent tyrant of Shado. Claire, squeezing the damn therapy ball in her mangled hand at regular intervals, watched him with affection from the seat in back of him. He set the Chinook Alec had stolen for him on the helipad as easily as if it was a chess peace he was placing on a board, and looked at Alec questioningly. He didn't quite recall there being a helipad near the driveway, but there it was, recessed runway lights and all. God knew what the neighbours were thinking. Eccentric nouveau riche ex-Air Force Colonel film executive with new toys, probably. Since the Straker Foundation had been dipping its fingers in a worldwide fondue, zipping here and zipping there would make sense. Poor, you were crazy, but with his bankroll, you were eccentric. Besides, not many were poor in this part of the United Kingdom, and they generally kept themselves to themselves.

"Hell this is summer, couldn't you at least make this rain warmer?"

Alec eased Ed up and into his wheelchair as Claire held an umbrella over him, both of them grinning.

"You're the one who insisted on moving to Gloucestershire, so zip up your Barbour and your lips. Your jet is airworthy by the way, waiting for you at Heathrow. The mechanics practically melted it down to a pool of grease on the tarmac and built it back up again to insure Agatha hadn't hidden any more nasty surprises in it. Welcome home, Ed. We've created a tiny piece of Shado right here for you for now until you're strong enough to go back to the real thing."

"It doesn't exactly match the Georgian decor, but Alec and the others have got a bank of computers, video screens and radar equipment functional temporarily in the safe room and well, you'll see." Claire smiled, accepting Graham's help to get out of the chopper. "They had a swimming pool and Jacuzzi installed, and even a miniature shooting range so that you can practice, plus a gym and physical therapy area. There's no part of Silk Wood Manor you can't navigate around in, Louis and his cronies installed ramps everywhere. You still have the version of Locomotive 1 that Carmella gave you so you can get around. I didn't think you wanted either Graham or Yvonne pushing you in that thing. Welcome home, darling."

. "I take it the local authorities know and approve of Silk Wood Manor's being turned into an air base? New Scotland Yard? The local Constabulary? Where'd you get a Chinook from anyway?"

"One lousy whirlybird with bells and whistles, you call that an air base?" Alec scowled. "You're getting soft."

"The security aspects have been handled, Sir." Yvonne assured him. "You'd be amazed what a few pounds can do when deposited into the proper accounts, and the flash of an Aegus clearance card."

"I'm trying to think like an indignant civilian who wouldn't want artillery shells in her rose bed, and worry about what you came up with as a cover for this little scheme. Oh oh, is that Keith Ford coming toward me at the speed of light ? Easy, Lane, that is who it is. Report." Ed said, concealing his amusement at her pulling a nasty looking firearm out of a shoulder holster and going into firing stance, aiming at a startled Keith. Nine millimetre Millenium. Too showy by far, and Nathaniel would have probably compared it to a water gun, but it still could place slugs where she wanted. God, how he missed Nathaniel. Lane lowered the gun way too slowly for Ford's peace of mind, Ed noticed.

"Sir, there are indications that the timing of the attack has been moved up."

"To when?" Ed began attempting to push himself along to follow Ford, but Alec stepped behind the wheelchair, and tapped him on the shoulder. Claire sighed. It had started. So much for a honeymoon. Ed gave her a smile he didn't feel. He reached out and squeezed her good hand briefly, ignoring Ford's expression at the uncharacteristic gesture.

"0200, Sir."

"Shit." Ed cursed with feeling. "Okay, let's move up that conference, hurry up Ford, don't wait for-"

"We already initiated the glitch mock-up, Sir. All departments in all headquarters, particularly in Wales, are standing by to Launch Operation Henderson, Sir, just waiting for your word to set it in motion."

"Impressive, Ford. You're guaranteed that new stripe I mentioned, provided the world is still here after all this is over. Move this damn thing, Alec, move it!"

"He's recovering, he's his lovable bastard self again." muttered Alec, pushing the wheelchair so fast that Ed expected it to lift off any second.

Ed took off the headset for a moment, sat back in the chair, pushed his fringe of snowy hair back from his forehead, sweating. He grinned as Frances offered him a tray with coffee and roast beef piled high with all the trimmings, and on sourdough French, too. Between anxious theorizing about who the new head of the Church of England would be, she'd been putting the Aga through its paces like it was a steeplechaser. That made Ed wonder how Wrong Way was doing. The last he'd heard, Peter, Arthur and Daisy were excitedly getting the horse ready for some race in September. Angel looked like droplets of water on a skillet, looking at all the technology Ed's staff had set up in the safe room. Claire sat nearby, squeezing the therapeutic ball. Their eyes met and they smiled briefly at one another.

Ed took a hefty bite out of the sandwich, then set the tray down under the table. Frances moaned and retrieved it.

"Edward Straker, as God is my witness, I'm going to get supper down that skinny torso of yours," Frances declared.

"Frances, he's got the headset on, he can't hear you. No, don't disturb him now, he's waiting for the system to shut down. Let Edward be Edward, Frances. Bring that tray over here, I'll finish the sandwich for him. I made one disappear and I'm already hungry again, I'm afraid." Claire chuckled.

"It's nerves, Ma'am," Graham said.

"Do you think just for once you could call me Claire?" exploded Claire in frustration.

"Yes Ma'am. Claire. Sorry. Claire, if it's any compensation, we're all a bit worried about the Master."

"The Master?" Alec guffawed. "Now there's a nickname I can spread around in Shado HQ. Yeow!" Alec exclaimed. Ed had removed the headset for a moment and heard Alec's threat, and had punched Alec's thigh meaningfully. He pointed to the tray, Frances happily retrieved the sandwich for him, to her consternation he broke it in half and handed one half to Claire, who chuckled. The other he crammed into his mouth, not bothering with the crumbs that fell to the floor. Alec handed him the coffee, grinning at Frances. He drank a good deal of it down, then back on went the headset.

The silver map, with its coloured graphic of the world and the solar system, twinkled. Each light designated the locations of Shado headquarters, based around the world. Next to that was the all important grid screen. It was blank, but Ed knew it would soon designate Peter Carlin's team's positions, where they were hiding, waiting to swoop down like hawks to make a meal of unfortunate field mice. Generally, Ed mused, he had dedicated his life to protecting the field mice of the world. Not this time. With any luck, the UFO's would be the field mice. He'd made it plain he wanted them blasted out of existence with not even a trace of a whisker and no promise of cheese.

He looked at his Certina wristwatch. Only seconds to go. It was up to them now. He grabbed the microphone and brought it to his lips, which were pulled in the customary slit of a terse line and began to bark orders into it. Claire could practically feel the energy coming off him. This man, her husband, was all that stood in the way of alien world dominance. She had seen the brutalised bodies, the missing organs. It mustn't happen. It wouldn't happen. This man didn't belong to her. He belonged to the world. He had to. She smiled at him. His job was difficult. Her job was easiest. To have courage, and faith, and love him for longer than always.

As the lights on the graphic of England and Wales and Moonbase shut out, a hushed silence fell upon the room. Ed acknowledged it, strained to hear something, anything over the headset. They'd initiated the ploy. England and Wales and Moonbase as helpless as a newborn. What the aliens hadn't counted on is that the baby was already full grown and it had teeth, he thought with a sadistic pleasure. And he was the father.

Then the microphone came alive. Agatha Henderson and her band of monsters had seen the shiny Farlow lure in the water, smelled the mouth-watering bait, and had snapped for it, swallowed it down. Ed Straker regretted for right now he couldn't personally jerk the razor sharp hook, but this would have to do.

"UFO's, Sir!" Ford's voice came over his headset and pointed to the grid, which had become active.

"Spinners never looked so good to me," Ed said.

"I know he's gone balmy now." Alec quipped, having put his own headset on and disposed of his tumbler of whisky in a much practiced gulp.

"Commence Operation Henderson. I repeat, Initiate Operation Henderson!" Ed's voice crackled over the microphone and was answered with delighted affirmatives. He watched as the map lit up again, watched as the grid filled with everything that possessed missiles and wings, and sat there, knowing his people were about to spoil the aliens' day. What a pity that all he was behind was a microphone and not a preferred instrument panel in an Interceptor.

"Take that enema up the bum, you alien pond scum." Angel said.

Frances gawked.

"Stanley Mitchell Brisby! That wasn't very Christian of you."

Ed half turned, seeing Frances' expression, and he slipped the headset off long enough for Claire to fill him in, gave an appreciative sharp laugh and patted Angel on the arm.

"Like our Nam days, Angel." Ed said softly.

"Too right, Q-Tip." Angel said enthusiastically.

Ed put the headset back on, and his expression darkened, and his lips met again in the familiar slash of annoyance and frustration. A trickle of sweat ran down his cheek, even though the safe room was at a comfortable temperature.

"The sons-of-bitches got Captain Carlin. He's bailed out. Our air and sea rescue have him, though, and Barry is returning the favour," Alec explained.

"That wisp of a girlie is flying those things? What has the world come to with the weaker sex in a cockpit?" Angel complained. Claire folded her arms and adopted a stern manner, even though she knew the reverend was joking.

"Stanley, dearest Stanley, I'm about to do to you what I did to that partridge yesterday, let you have it with both bores." Frances said sweetly. Angel grinned at her. Ed Straker took off his headset, and breathed a sigh of relief, smiling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our side won. No serious injuries. Took the buggers by surprise the way we planned. Let's hear it for Commander Ed Straker! Hip, hip, hooray!" Alec cheered and they all echoed it, much to Ed's embarrassment.

"Save it for Captain Ford. If he and his team hadn't uncovered her little scheme--"

Keith Ford was picking up the telephone, having torn off his headset.

"Someone on the line for you, Sir."

Ed grinned and accepted the telephone. He hit the switch so that everyone in the room could hear the conversation.

"Straker." he said pleasantly. "Why, Agatha, how nice to hear from you!"

"You think you've won, Straker, but you haven't won, it isn't over, they won't stop until they crush you and your organisation, you slimy, mother fucking pig!"

"Now, now. That isn't proper language for the sister of a General. You are the sister of General Henderson, now aren't you? Oh, right, actually you're Jean Skinner, and for the promise of a Swiss bank account and a mink stole you sold your own kind out. People like you always lose, Miss Skinner. You were playing cards at high stakes with the wrong person. I'm calling your bluff. The only card you have left in your hand is the Ace of Spades. Winner, which in this case and every case is me, takes all."

"You haven't won yet, Straker. The aliens had a little surprise left for you on my request, do you hear me? Your life is worth nothing! NOTHING! You'll see!" The line went dead.

"Don't know about you, but that makes me worry, Sir." Yvonne said. Ed nodded, tossed the telephone down wearily.

"Didn't sound like a bluff to me either. Alec, get down there and encourage the lovely Miss Skinner to give us the details, will you?"

"I ought to stay with you," protested Alec.

"I'm a big boy now, I can tie a Windsor knot by myself. Besides I've got Frances and her keen eyesight and her rifle to protect me, and Claire can throw that ball at anyone who comes near me. Now go, Alec. The sooner you find out, the safer I'll be."

Alec was grim, and Ed patted him on the arm, and pointed to the door.

"If he as much loses one strand of that lovely hair, Yvonne-" Alec threatened, handing Ed a key fob.

"He won't Colonel, I give you my word," she replied to Alec, and he went out.

"Edward." Claire said, worried, taking the wheelchair and wheeling him upstairs to the privacy of their bedroom as his staff scurried about. They got there just in time to see steel shutters close over the Palladian window he admired so much, and the lights blazed on to compensate for the loss of view. Not that you could see anything in the rain and gloom outside.

"Don't tell me, let me guess. New security protocols? Yvonne Lane?" he groaned, shoving the key fob absentmindedly in a pocket.

"She even had them install additional security features in the Grade 2 gates. You'd be more comfortable in bed, Edward."

"I'll be a sitting duck in bed, Claire. Do you think you can find me some coffee? Oh. Never mind. Here comes Frances again. She wants me plump to the point where she can stick an apple in my mouth, and roast me with a couple of jacket potatoes in the Aga."

"You're skin and bones, Edward Straker, and what's wrong with people who love you worrying about you enough to make sure you have a meal now and then?"

"Frances, forget it, you know how he is. Where's Angel?"

"If I know Angel, he is still in the situation room, dreaming about being back in a cockpit again. Who knows, he may go back Down Under and re-enlist."

"Over my dead body." declared Frances to a slightly smiling Ed. She handed Ed some coffee and a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

"Well if Agatha's little friends are coming after me, no man could have a better sweet than lemon drizzle cake before he faces the Pearly Gates."

"Keep that pessimistic drivel up and I'll make sure you never eat one of Frances' meals again, Straker." growled Claire.

"I'm beginning to wish she was still in the coma. At least back then I could do all the talking. Yeow! Quit hitting me wife, you made me spill some of the coffee."

"On yourself, I hope," Claire said, tossing him her napkin and pulling up a chair beside him. She forked a piece of her own slice into his mouth.

"I'm having deja-vu all over again. Didn't we do this at the wedding, Straker?"

"We did it a lot more messily, Straker."

"Oh it's so wonderful to see you two together again." Frances said, dabbing with her pinafore at her tears and disappearing out the door.

"God Edward, you look so tired. You ought to nap. You were bent over that console for hours. At least close your eyes a while."

"Can't. I promise to do it when Alec gets through with that woman. If anyone can beat the truth out of her, it's him." Ed stretched and yawned.

"Edward, for God's sake it's past 3 am in the morning. You dozed on the helicopter, but you need more rest than that!"

"What I need is rest, yes, yes, what I don't need is a nagging wife, nagging wife." grinned Ed. She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. "Where's that precious ball of yours?" he asked.

She produced it out of a pocket.

"Squeeze that thing after you eat."

"I'd rather be doing something else, Straker."

"Why are you closing the door, Claire? Claire, why are you closing - that was my slice of cake, Claire. Claire, take your hands off my belt buckle-for the love of Jesus, Claire!"

"I'm just following my physical therapist's orders, Edward. Squeeze the balls, Dr. Straker, he says." she grinned.

"Does that piece of my anatomy look like it has Property of Mayland Hospital stencilled on it?"

"As many times as you've been in hospital, it should have. Aren't you proud of me for following my therapist's advice?" Claire knelt in front of the wheelchair and he broke out in a sweat.

"Hell, yes, you're rising to the occasion nicely. No, wait, that's me rising to the occasion nicely. Claire, I can't literally be caught with-oh Christ-oh God-JESUS! my pants down like this."

"Of course not, Edward, how silly of me."

"You stopped."

"You're very observant, Commander."

"I was beginning to enjoy the therapy."

"Make up your mind Commander, a second ago you said you couldn't be caught with your pants down like this. Then again, you were a shade of puce at the time." she pointed out, rising.

"Sure I wasn't a mellow yellow?"

"Puce, a vibrant puce."

"You're certainly coming along with that injured-"

"I thought you were the fellow who was coming, along that is-"

"With that hand." he grinned at her. They looked at one another for a long time then he held out his own hand and she put her mangled one in it and bit her lip against the tears that lately had come often. He looked sorrowful, knowing she wouldn't mend inside for a long time after the scars had healed. How could she, the blast had taken away the one thing she loved. He had to be strong with her. He needed her to be strong as well.

"It's so ugly, Edward. I can't stand to look at it!"

"Nothing to do with you could ever be ugly. I love you. Let me hear you say it to me too." he said in the voice that resonated in their bedroom and in her heart. "I waited for so long by your bedside, waiting for those eyes to open." he reminded her firmly. "I waited to hear it. Say it now."

"I love you, Edward Straker." she said shyly, her hands locked in his hair, sweeping to the back of his neck and staying there to coax him forward. She snuggled against his chest as he took her and pressed her against him, his moist mouth seeking, then closing over hers decisively. Outside, lightning began to herald the beginning of a summer storm. His hand closed over her breast and she pulled off her blouse, then unhooked her black brassiere to make it easier for him. There was a knock on the door which at first they didn't hear, with him teasing the tip of her nipple with his tongue and her growing moans. Then it got louder and more urgent. They both sighed. He put his Commander's mask on.

"Recess over, sweetheart." she said and quickly made herself presentable.

Ed sighed, quickly fastened his zipper, hooked his belt and ran his fingers through his hair, no time for a comb.

"Come in, Ford." Ed called.

"How did you know it was me, Sir?"

"Distinctive knock. Report."

"Sir, we just heard from Colonel Freeman."

Ed fought down the impulse to see how many pieces he could snap Ford's scrawny neck into. He reminded himself the wide-eyed, perpetually nervous looking sheep of a man had saved his arse.

"And?"

"You better take a look at this yourself, Sir."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Keith! Just tell the Commander!"

"Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am. There's another UFO left."

"A single UFO? Well, don't just stand there, blast it out of the sky!"

"We've got Skydiver with Captain Billings at the controls headed for it, but that'll take fourteen minutes we estimate."

"What's its location?" Ed pushed Claire away and propelled himself down the ramp toward the situation room without help. Yvonne Lane was hurrying up, and had somewhere along the line traded in the Millenium for a high-powered rifle.

"Sir. It's over Gloucestershire, headed straight for Silk Wood Manor, estimated time of strike eleven minutes."

"Pins and Needles, Edward, we've got to get you out of here!"

"No time. Get everyone into the safe room. Keith, take Mrs. Straker into the safe room."

"NO! I'm not leaving you. I know you, Edward! You'll do something stupid. Please Edward, don't make me go!"

"How are we fixed for Molly, Lane. Ford, that was an order, Straker, you're still under my command and you'll do what I say. Now get her into that room along with everyone else!" Yvonne might have had the rifle, but his voice was what sounded like the crack of rifle shot. Keith pulled her away, with her looking at him desperately, and his heart filling with growing pain as if it was a carafe being filled with a bitter liqueur. If he had to die, well, he had chosen that path a hundred centuries ago. But to never see her face again, to never touch her, to never see the womanly poise turn into a girlish giggle? The victory with the aliens had been swift, and sweet, and now a Pyrrhic victory, if it meant losing her again.

None of his agony showed in his face despite the sound of her sobbing echoing in his ears as Ford ushered her around a corner. He sealed that fraction of his heart up and waited for Lane to answer, scowl stamped on his fine features, mouth one long dark crease.

"We don't have anything ground-to-air, Commander. We'll just have to put up a fight with what we have when it comes in close enough."

"You'll be fried, Lane. No. I want for you to take your team and stay in the safe room. I want someone to be with my wife. She's going to need someone who cares about her the way I suspect you do if I don't come back. I want you to swear to me that you'll do everything for her that you can. You'll have the Brisbies' help. Is Alec on the way here? I thought so. Get on the phone and tell him to turn around, and that's an order directly from me. Graham!"

"Sir."

"Get me outside. I have an idea that may work."

"But Sir! You'll be helpless in that thing!"

Graham Lancaster actually took two steps backward at the rage in Commander Ed Straker's face.

"We'll see who is helpless when the dust settles!"

"Bloody damn, I can't let him go off like that! The man's likely to try something daft!" Graham said as Straker departed out the door, homicide latent in the stars that passed for his blue eyes.

"That's the Commander, whom we've all sworn to obey. You have your orders." Yvonne said quietly.

"But Yvonne, that man-"

"That man is Ed Straker. If anyone can pull a rabbit out of a top hat with a hole in its bottom, you're looking at him. Now come on Graham, we've got to make sure everyone's in the rabbit hole. You get through to Colonel Freeman, although if I know him, he's going to be making like the US Cavalry and he won't listen to a word you say to the contrary."

"The US Cavalry?"

"For Pete's sake, Graham. Indians. Wagons in a circle. The good guys coming in at the last minute. Don't you ever watch westerns? Forget it. Go make that call."

* * *

Ed Straker gulped. The space between where he was on the ground and where the door to the Chinook helicopter was seemed to him like peering into a black hole, yes, now the only question was, how the hell did he get into the pilot seat? He moved the wheelchair as close as he could manage, set the break, stood up balancing himself on the armrests, shaking like he was the Dassault Falcon in turbulence, and after two maddeningly slow tries, he was standing up on the chair, holding on to the side of the mechanical beast. Sweat was pouring down his face at a rate to compete with the rain. Lightning was flashing. I'm nuts, he thought. The weather ought to slow them down too, give me an advantage. At least that's my theory. Now, let's get this baby open and me inside. That's my Beantown boy, Eddie Straker. Where have I heard that? Oh yeah. Madison. First day I strapped on a chute for real.

"Sir."

"Yeah Straker?"

"Sir, the ground looks a lot further away then it did in the simulator, Sir."

"You got your chute on, Straker?"

"Yes, Sir, but uh, I don't think I can do this Sir, honestly, I don't Sir."

The other men in the plane snickered. The instructor had only to give them a look, and they shut up. It was a trick Ed learned, and performed on hapless Shado personnel much later. Especially Ford.

"Where you say you were from again?"

"Boston, Sir. I'd like to go back there someday, Sir, maybe find me a wife, a car, two kids and a dog, Sir, and respectfully if I jump out of this thing I'm more likely to turn into something someone could spread on their wheat toast, Sir."

"You made it outa' your momma's womb, didn't you, Straker?"

"Respectfully, Sir, my momma didn't have a 15,000 feet long womb, Sir. Sir, I think I'm going to hack up my breakfast bacon and eggs on my fatigues, Sir."

"Boston, you said? Beantown? From now on you're Beantown Eddie. Even a Beantown boy has to bail outta the womb sometime." The man that was a young Ed Straker's senior officer aimed for and pushed Ed forward right as Ed was in the middle of a sentence. He hadn't figured the amiable young man for a scaredy cat come first jump day, but then you lived and you learned. Besides, Straker was the only guy that remained polite while being hysterical. That took talent, and Straker had a lot of talent. He'd only figured Straker to be a pretty boy that only wanted to wear the uniform to draw the girls, but oh, mercy, how wrong he'd been. The skinny young blond tadpole with the toothpick frame had taken to the United States Air Force like a mallard to water, and the harder you leaned on him, the more he showed you up. He'd known generals that didn't have the ability and guts that Straker had. He took punishment with a show of perfect teeth and a perfect yes sir. He sometimes just needed a little push. A small push. Like now.

"I think I want to-yiiiiiiii!Oh SWEET JESUS! No ground! Shit! Okay, okay, okay, altimeter, shit, doesn't feel like I'm falling, shit, okay, okay, goodbye terminal velocity goodbye Straker, Is the damn altimeter ever going to reach 5000, good sweet Christ, this is a ball! Okay, okay, okay, okay, damn the earth is coming up too fast! Pull! Pull! Don't pull! Don't pull! PULL! SHITTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

Ed grinned at the memory, and he glanced at his wristwatch. Nine minutes.

"Even a Beantown boy has to bail outa the womb sometime," he said aloud, in an more than fair imitation of the man he'd written to practically every day since he'd been stationed in Thailand, just before his Phantom had gone down. The man's wife had told him that her husband, who had lost his life to prostrate cancer instead of the military combat he loved, had cherished Beantown Eddie's every word and had wept when Ed's name turned up on the MIA rolls. He forced open the door, breathing heavily with the exertion and hurled himself inside the cramped cockpit. Pain in the leg on impact almost blinded him and knocked him out, but he pulled himself up into a standing position, made it in back by holding on to the sides of the interior of the chopper and he grabbed a chute from the cargo area. Seven minutes. With the chute securely on, he came back slowly, every movement sheer agony. It was an eternity before he got the doors slammed shut, his head into the helmet, strapped on the headset, lowered himself into the seat and lifted her nose into the driving, relentless rain and soared away. Helpless? Not him.

A few seconds later, Alec Freeman recklessly landed the Shado chopper on the helipad like an Aborigine shaman having a vision as Yvonne and Graham and several others rushed out to meet him. It took him all of three seconds to notice that the helicopter was gone, and Ed's wheelchair had been deserted. It lay on the ground, desolate.

"That idiot! That stupid idiot! What the hell does he think he's going to do? IDIOT! Fucking idiot!"

By the time Alec Freeman was passing out Mollies from the back of the chopper, there were tears in his eyes.

"Colonel, we've got him on the radio," Yvonne was saying as she switched the setting on the Molly to armed.

"God damned Yankee idiot. They'll eat him alive with their firepower. He should have waited for Billings."

"Billings is still several minutes behind. He radioed the UFO's position to the Commander."

"Why? So that Ed could be the piece of raw meat to dangle in front of the shark? When I get a hold on that son-of-a-bitch's balls he's going to wish he'd never been born. How they gave him Sky One I don't know. Yeah yeah don't look at me like that, I know Peter's in hospital. All of you take positions on the roof and on the ground, I'll back you up. We may get a crack at the bastards yet. Why the hell did you let him out of your sight, Lane? I ought to bash your damn Canadian head into the ground until it came up in Taipei!"

"I couldn't disobey a direct order."

"I told you what a bloody fool he was! I told you he gets himself in trouble more often then a stacked blonde sheila with the morals of a dingo lies on her back!"

"Merde, Alec, it's hard enough having to hear her crying. Get off my back. Nobody is more enraged at what happened than me."

"Who are you talking about? Claire?"

"Graham tried to give her a brandy. She claimed if the Commander wouldn't take one, she wouldn't. She says she can feel him out there, still alive, in pain but still alive."

"They have that bizarre psychic connection. Let me go and see her for a second, try and reassure her. Then I'll join the team." Alec hoisted the strap of the Molly across his shoulder.

"Better have some of that poison of yours first, and don't let her see you crying, or she'll really panic."

"Crying? Me! How dare you even suggest-!"

Yvonne just ran off, and started to give orders to her team members. Alec roughly brushed tears out of his eyes. You die on me, Straker, and I'll kill you. That's a promise from these old Aussie bones. If that UFO scorches you to a crisp, no bacteria is going to save that bloody minded neck of yours.

And what will I do in a world that doesn't have you in it, Ed? Don't do this to me. Please--

* * *

"Yeah copy, she's coming up on my screen now. Nice talking to you, Captain, but in the next few minutes I'm either going to be a very busy man or a dead one," Ed Straker was saying into his radio headset. The instrument panel went crazy yelling warnings at him. There was an eerie sound and a blast of heat, and he realised with a sick feeling he'd been hit, probably the cargo bay, but he was alive still . The instrument panel was going screwy, and the cockpit was shuddering like a dying elephant from loss of air pressure, but they weren't having their little disagreement at a height where he'd have to worry about oxygen, but he had to worry about smoke, so he put on the oxygen mask just in case. Ed fired the machine guns and the UFO veered, and that was all he needed. He removed his belt and he aimed the helicopter directly at the UFO. "3,900 litres of fuel save what I used up getting here, you bastards, and I'm going to need every drop." He tied the belt in a fashion as to keep it on a level path, headed right for the UFO. It had swerved and was coming straight for him. He guessed he had maybe ten minutes to impact. "We'll see who is helpless when the dust settles!" And he put one hand on his chute pull. And he put all his muscle into opening the door as the smoke got thicker.

It didn't bulge. He tried again. Nothing. No joy.

It didn't bulge.

Six minutes. And counting.

He was helpless. He was going to die alone, in the cramped bowel of the helicopter, helpless. He was trapped. Nothing he had done was any good. It never had been. He'd never feel her touch again, or smell her scent, or listen to the music of her cries when they were making love to one another. He was finished. He was helpless. He was nothing more than a trapped, helpless animal. And the dogs were not far behind, howling with glee at his predicament. He was the fox, without a prayer. Soon they'd tear out his throat.

Against his will, he sobbed.

"GOD DAMN YOU ALIEN BASTARDS! You're not winning! Do you hear me? I'm not dying like this! I'm not helpless!" he screamed at them through the mask, on the edge if not over the waterfall of hysterics. He pushed himself up and tried to get on his feet but a sudden lurch of the cockpit knocked him off balance and he went down hard, hit his knee with a scream. To his horror, when he tried to get up again, neither leg would hold his weight. There were only two options now. Die or crawl.

He crawled.

It hurt more than anything had hurt in his life.

He had to hold on to the side of the cargo bay as the wind whipped at his skin without letup. The UFO fire had cut away a huge ragged hole with a seared edge in the bottom of the cargo bay. Smoke was pouring into the cargo bay from a fire that was headed precariously close to the extra fuel tanks. No time to worry about it.

"Even a Beantown boy has to bail outa the womb sometime!" he yelled. And he hoisted himself through the hole. Seconds later, the UFO fired at the Chinook and both went up in a blaze of flames. The Chinook flamed to almost all ash. The Spinner started falling.

Alec Freeman had the Molly strap over his shoulder and a pair of high powered night vision binoculars pressed to his eyes, (when I finally take these things away, I will probably look like a raccoon for the rest of my natural life, he brooded) and was freezing various parts of his Australian self off from being in the rain in only his brown Nehru or so he imagined. If Yvonne, who was right next to him, was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a Commando sweater, then he wasn't going to complain of the cold. Besides, he was too damn busy wondering what the hell a man named Ed Straker was doing to worry much about getting pneumonia. He was too busy praying that a man named Ed Straker had beaten impossible odds again. But even the most sagacious, resourceful cat eventually ran out of lives, bacteria or no bacteria. Stop being a pessimist, Freeman. Ed's out there. He'd find a way to survive. You know he would. Dear God, he had to.

Keith Ford ran out to meet them, braving what was left of the storm, coming up from behind them and nearly got blasted with Molly fire by a overzealous Yvonne. Alec knew she wanted to kill something. Anything. He knew because he wanted to himself. Keith gave her a curious look, and she spat on the ground, and moved away from him. Straker was gone, and Ford had something to do with it. Or some misguided, twisted assumption like that.

"Don't mind her, Keith. It's that time of the month for her, or something. What do you have for me? Good news I hope?" Alec said, knowing by the man's expression the truth was far from it.

"Billings just reported he saw the UFO go up in a ball of flame, but no sign of Commander Straker's aircraft, Sir. Billings says that-"

"ALEC! RUN! It's coming our way! RUN!" Yvonne screamed, and followed her own advice.

Alec tossed the Molly aside and ran. Then he realised Keith Ford remained standing in the middle of the doorway leading to the manor, looking up in the sky at the approaching UFO like a rabbit frozen just before a snake was about to make it a meal and he called himself seven kinds of an idiot for doing it, but he ran back just as the flaming, downed UFO screeched its proximity, and he grabbed Ford and he ran again and the UFO hit Silk Wood Manor, and the main building of the country estate exploded, and the sheer force knocked him and Ford to the ground, seemingly draining all the air out of his lungs. He raised himself up. Ford was still, blood seeping from a cut in his forehead. He couldn't see Yvonne. He could hear the horrible screams of one of her team that had been set afire, smell the stench of flesh. Alec started taking off his jacket and running toward the man, but a secondary explosion knocked him off his feet again, and this time he blacked out.

The fire spread swiftly to the other parts of the manor. . By the time the fire personnel came to fight the blaze, the grand old lady that had been Silk Wood Manor was in tatters.

The end.

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