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Lii’s Story (story)

The sword glistened in the sun as it arced through the air. Chop! A crate fell into pieces as the evasive runner dodged yet again. The runner quickened his pace as he saw the merchant ship Revilo ahead of him. But he was not finished yet. Three men, garbed in all black robes were sprinting after him. People scattered as the chase continued. The runner leaping through a huddle of trade stalls, knocking over apples and oranges. They poured over the floor, and as the ninjas came after him, one slipped and fell. His head connected with the cobbled ground, and he was out cold. The remaining two ninjas ran after him and suddenly they found themselves gaining on their target, because the runner had been accosted by two Barbour-guards. He shoved them off, but the damage was done, the ninjas were almost on him and, in despair, the runner pulled his curved sword from within his own clothes and swung viciously at his assailants. Then, merely 30 yards from the Revilo, his target, a battle ensued. A two against one. The crowds in the harbour now huddled around the edges, crouching behind crates, their eager eyes watching the display of swordsmanship. The battle moved slowly towards the ship, the runner skillfully ducking, weaving and parrying his attackers’ blows. He knew he could not beat them, but if he could get them near enough the ship, he may have an advantage.


And, how right he was. As they neared the Revilo, the runner flipped acrobatically onto the rungs which lined the edge of the huge ship. The ninjas, temporarily paralysed, stopped, and the runner kicked one of the swords into the air and caught it. Then, the ship cast off, very slowly. In desperation, the ninja with his sword jumped and caught hold of the edge of the ship. But he could not stay there. He was slipping, slowly, and then the runner, with a triumphant smile on his face kicked the straining fingers of the ninja. And with a cry, the robed figure fell into the sea.

There, on the shore, the last ninja stared after the retreating ship as it sped up. This was not over.

Lii Kazuko sunk into his bunk bed with a sigh of appreciation.  This was more like it.  After 3 months on the run from those persistent ninjas, he had finally lost them.  But he knew it had been close.  As he had vaulted over the side of the ship, he had had a brief moment when he thought what could of happened.  And and it had all started 4 months ago in Nagoya, south-east Japan.

The year was 1874, and the emperor  Okubu Toshimichi was in power.  He was not a hard ruler, yet, nor was he an easy-going man.  He ruled the country with power, but he heavily favoured the nobles who ruled the provinces.  And it was this that made people dislike him.  However, people never really considered doing anything about him, because, quite frankly, he had done nothing official wrong.  But there were things like the treatment of workers on farms that went unnoticed and so, that  was when the Sons of the Dragon was created.  A secret society dedicated to the downfall of the Emperor.  At first many disagreed with this society, as the Emperor’s deeds were not known to many, and certainly all the nobles supported him.  But then as the Sons of the Dragon started to expose the emperor’s true evilness, things started to speed up. Everyone had been content to ignore the small things, like tax going up, but when the Emperor ordered his men to march through Nagoya and kick out all the locals who lived there, capture some as slaves and burn their houses; that was when people started switching sides. 

And so it was that many nobles started secretly supporting the SOTD.  They would never openly declare their support for them, but they were always ready to hide a fugitive or supply food or even weaponry.  The movement of the SOTD increased in size, and by then nearly all of the country was riddled with the SOTD.  It was like an undercover rebellion.   But, our story starts in Nagoya, the day Emperor Okubu ordered his men to plunder the town.




It was a cold day in Nagoya and Lii was up early once more.  He stumbled down the cold-cobbled streets of his beloved hometown, towards the well where he drew water each morning.  He wore a thin linen tunic, but in this weather, it was normally more than enough to keep you warm.  But today, everything seemed different.  Colder, silent, still.  And as Lii lowered the bucket down into the well, he shivered violently, and paused, suddenly frightened.  Then, he looked up at the sky, and saw clouds.  But not any old clouds.  These were storm clouds, dark and billowing, threatening rain.  And then it started.  Droplets, plip, plop.  Slowly, the quickly and then a torrent or water, and Lii was sprinting back towards his house. As he ran the wooden houses on either side of him, were now obscured and the ground below him had become slippery and as he pushed his door open he noticed dripping water from the ceiling above him.  It had not used to be like this.  The Government would repair your houses to a certain degree, but ever since those Sons of the Dragon had started their subtle war against the Emperor, conditions had got harder.

But then again, maybe the SOTD had a point.  The Emperor was certainly not the nicest of men.  Everyone in the country had heard the rumours of the conditions the workers were in, in the North.  But no one dare spoke of them.  The Emperor had ears and eyes everywhere. 

An hour later the rain had finally stopped and Lii could return to the well to collect water.  People were now venturing out of their houses.  Lii noticed that there was none of the old friendliness in the air as there had been for many years.  The secret war had sapped the whole country of resources and confidence.  Many friends had been pulled apart because their allegiances were different to each other.  Some thought the emperor was scum, others hated the SOTD.  Lii was not sure where he himself stood.  His friend Gensai had run off with the SOTD after cursing Lii for his “loyalty” to the Emperor. Gensai had not listened to Lii when he explained he was unsure whose side he was. 

The last Lii had heard, Gensai and his SOTD friends had been caught on the run in Southern Japan, whether Gensai had got away, Lii did not know.  But the future was black.

Lii’s family were very lazy, and as he looked through the veiled bamboo-curtain he saw his parents still fast asleep. They made him do all the hard work, without much reward, but at least he had a home. His brother Sandali had angered his parents by refusing to work as hard as they commanded. He was now exiled from the family, although Lii still went to see him occasionally when his parents were not looking.. Sandali would encourage Lii to join him in the forest where he lived. Lii had considered it, but since Sandali has joined the SOTD, he had been too scared.

Lii was just sitting down to serve himself some oats for breakfast when he heard a shout from the outskirts of the village. Then a scream, followed by more similar noises and then the sound of fire. Lii jumped up quickly and raced to the door his heart pounding. What on earth had caused this noise? He plunged through the door and looked left down the long dusty street. What he saw was horrific. Soldiers, the emperor’s of course were flooding down the street pursuing villagers. Some hacked at the houses with huge metal swords, others lit houses up with burning torches. People were fleeing grabbing what they could and running. Lii was petrified momentarily, and then he knew that he too had to run. Soon he was caught up with the rest of them, he would escape! And then he remembered. His parents. He spun round and found himself pushed violently into the mud by a fellow villager. Then he pounded back to his house, dodging others, and back towards the danger. Then he saw his house, 30 metres away and now that was about the distance between him and the soldiers. Suddenly to Lii’s horror, one pushed open the door to his house and drew his swords as he entered.

Lii instinctively hopped over a barrel lying at the side of the road and hid from the majority of the soldiers. About a quarter however remained plundering and pillaging the houses, and one of those houses was his. What would they do to his father and mother? Two of them had gone inside. And then he heard his mother screaming as Lii sneaked around the back of the house. He peered through the back and window, and what he saw would remain with him forever. He did not know what had made the soldier do it, but he knew he would never see his parents again…alive.

Then, a different emotion overtook him and he darted through the window past his dead parents and grabbed a large hunting knife off the wall. Hearing the disturbance, the two soldiers, who were leaving turned. Lii plunged the knife into the first soldier, and in his rage he hurled himself into the other. The first screamed in pain and Lii stabbed his knife again and again and again, and he was no more. Then the other regained his footing and this was when Lii realised that he could be one of the greatest swordsmen to live. The soldier swung his blade at Lii, but Lii with his comparatively tiny knife parried it beautifully sending the soldiers weapon gracefully through the window. It embedded itself in the earth outside and he could just see it handle sticking up above the window. Then he turned to the soldier. Fear was written all over his adversary’s face. But for some reason, now Lii had calmed down, he knew that to kill in cold blood was wrong. He had always had a temper, and his temper had made him kill a man. It had always been like that. But this had gone too far. He just let the man go. Just like that. And the soldier knew a gift when he saw one and fled backwards out of the house, wary of Lii’s dagger held menacingly in his hands.

And then he sunk to his knees. And tears flooded out. His world, although not altogether a happy one had still been a life. But now, his parents had been snatched away from him, and his village overrun. There was nothing much left for him here.

Three days later and Lii was traveling through the forest to try and find his brother Sandali. The soldiers had all but destroyed his village with his house being one of the only houses left standing. That was a poignant reminder, that he had put up a fight to the evil Emperor’s men.

Lii now knew for certain where his allegiances lay. The Sons of the Dragon was his future. And now he felt foolish to of rejected his brother and Gensai his greatest friend, who may now even of been dead. He would not make the same mistakes again. All that was in his heart was revenge. Yet deep down he knew that it would always be wrong to take a life, even if that person was a truly evil one.

He wondered if ever the opportunity came, would he be prepared cold-bloodedly to kill an unarmed man? He knew he was not like that. But what he did know was, that Japan was a doomed country unless someone did something about the Emperor. And that was what the SOTD offered. And he would do his part.

But for now he did not have a clue exactly where his brother was. All he knew was “the woods” which just so happened to be 15 miles wide and 7 miles long. Also, his brother might have fled, because of the soldiers. If his brother had gone then he did not know where to go.


Posted by on July 21, 2013 in Action


To Catch A French Man

Please note that this story was originally called “Sons of the Dragon”.  Although it is in that series, there is a new, recent publication by me that is an introduction to the series, which I have named “Sons of the Dragon”.  Cheers.  Enjoy the story.

It was one of those nights, thought Kimoto as he stepped inside KFC. He looked around in distaste at the hoards of people queuing towards the counter which was embossed with red signs, describing the latest fatty meal which could be bought. Kimoto knew he looked out of place, but that did not matter. He walked towards a door at the side marked toilet and pushed it open. No one was watching him. No one would notice if he did not come out. He was now in a small corridor with two doors at the far end marked ladies and gentlemen. He went straight into the ladies’ toilet, looking around to check that no one was watching him, and locked the door behind him. He then focused on the mirror to his, hanging loosely from the wall. He swung it up to the right and it clicked into place. He then stroked his index finger in a strange combination of movements and suddenly a deep grating sound could be heard very softly, not audible outside, and the tile below him that he was standing on, started to sink into the ground. When he has disappeared from view the mirror swung back into place and there was no evidence to show that he had been there. The door’s lock automatically unlocked and that was that.

Once the “lift” had stopped at the bottom of the shaft, Kimoto found himself staring at blackness all around. He could not see a thing. Then he spoke clearly in a monotonous voice. “Eins, dos, trois, four, Kimoto.” Suddenly light erupted around him and they brightly illuminated a corridor straight ahead of him with a solid wall at the end of it. There was no other way to go. But Kimoto knew this way well and he walked confidently, down the thin corridor, towards the wall. Closer and closer, and then he stretched out his finger and touched the wall. Or rather it went straight through it and his body followed. He was then in a box shaped room with a door at the far end. The door opened and a man stepped out, Spanish-looking. He was holding a gun and looking extremely expressionless. He was holding a pistol. Kimoto, however, was not in the least fazed by this and said,

“Son of the Dragon, let me in.” The man started at him hard for a few more seconds and then a bright smile broke out all over his face.

“Ah, Professor, it is good to see you!”

“And you Riez, I must say, Kazanka has done a very good job with that hologram, for a moment, despite having walked through it for ten years I was nearly convinced that it was a brick wall. I was most. . .unnerved. Anyway, I am afraid time is of the essence at the moment. We have business to see to.”

“I understand Professor. Let us go inside.” They both turned towards the door, Riez’ gun now in a holster on his belt. Once inside, the dull room outside was in startling contrast to the room he saw now. The room was quite big, with four desks connected together in the centre of the room, each holding computers. Two men sat at tow of the desks and they both looked up in delight at Kimoto and Riez. At the far end of the square-shaped room was a big electric screen with a map of Chinatown in a vibrant blue colour. On it, dots, representing cars were moving around the screen like little pinpricks of light scrambling for attention. On the walls on the right were pictures of front views, side views and back views of men.

“I have information for you, friends, we will be busy tonight. Jacques is about to strike again.”

– – –

“So, let me get this straight, Jacques is gonna strike Barlow’s warehouse tonight, but why? There’s nothing valuable in there.”questioned Kazanka. “I thought we go in for more, edifying stuff than a warehouse raid, why not hand it over to the police?” Kimoto pondered this question and then replied,

“Yes, I thought you’d ask that question. Well, for one, for some reason they are stealing ordinary stuff, like cigarettes and the like, I suppose just to make money and it’s true, Jacques ain’t usually into that kind of thing. But that doesn’t matter. We need to catch him, that’s why we’re not telling the cops, ok? And if we tell them they’ll bungle it and Jacques and his mob will find out and get away scot free. Again.”He scowled around at the three men.

“Right, I see!”said Kayato. “But how we gonna strike them? I assume we want them alive, right?”he added on a darker note.

“Ok, this is what we’re gonna do, but we gotta be careful, understand. He gets wind of this and him and his mates, about twenty of ’em, will mow us to pieces. Or that’s what we hear. Twenty, that’s a lot of guns.! So, at 11 tonight Kayato will drive up to Barlow’s warehouse, fully armed of course and leave the car there. Kayato will then be picked up by me and Kazanka on a drive-pass. . .”

“Wait a sec! What’s the b****y point of that?”shouted Riez, his South American temper flaring up as it so often did. “They’ll know that someone’s onto them. . .”

“Riez, you must listen to my plan before judgement. Right.”Kimoto looked around to check he had everyone’s attention. He did, and then continued, “On this car will be every kind of surveillance device I can think of. Miniature camera, heat sensors, x-ray viewing and the lot. Then at half 11 when Jacques and his men are supposed to turn up, Riez will hide down the road and see if they leave a guard outside the warehouse. Now Riez, if they do, kill him with a silencer and take his place. Then, while Jacques and his men are inside, Kayato will mount an attack on the warehouse with a mounted machine-gun, but don’t hit Riez because in the confusion, he will slip inside and mingle with the guards. Kayato will clear off and hide several blocks away in case of emergency and keep track of the affair with the surveillance. Meanwhile me and Kazanka are going to climb overhead in the silenced helicopter I’ve been working on for ages. At this point Riez will drop a couple of smoke grenades and spread panic, that they’re under attack and that kinda thing. Then lead Jacques up to the roof, saying you can escape that way and we’ll grab him in the heli’. You all got it?” There were nods around the room, “Good! Let’s go!”

Kayato revved the engine and turned the corner and then he saw the warehouse. It had a row of other warehouse alongside it, there were no normal houses in the road. The actual building was exactly like a house you would live in, except it was black and seven storeys high. There was a light smattering of rain falling and it was bitterly cold. He parked outside and ran along the road and hopped into a waiting car with Kimoto and Kazanka inside.

“You did it?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good, now when we drop you off, get the buggy with the mounted machine-gun and hide down Fern Avenue. Attack when Riez buzzes you on the telecom, ok?”

“Yes, I understand, good luck Professor, Kazanka.”

Riez peered around the corner in his night-vision goggles. Yes, there they were. Two lorries drew up by the side of the warehouse. Men cradling guns jumped out the back of each and from the front of one a man stepped out with a driver. He had a commanding presence about him. He was definitely Jacques. Riez watched as the men kicked at the flimsy door of the warehouse. It crumbled and they filed inside, Jacques going in last. “Darn!”Riez thought to himself. Three guards had been left outside. Riez switched on his telecom and called Kimoto.

“R calling K, eins, dos tres four. We have 3 fireguards outside our door. Repeat: We have 3 fireguards outside our door. Request instruction?” A voice crackled back:

“Put 2 in the bin and use the third.”was the short reply. Riez swore to himself! It would be no easy task. But he had better get on with it.

Moving stealthily in the shadows of the other warehouses, Riez slipped forward, loading his pistol. Then he attached a silencer. He took aim. Phut. One dropped dead. Another swung round in amazement and: Phut. Dead. The third was about to shout when: Phut. Three dead. Riez knew he had to work fast. He ran over, casting furtive glances at the warehouse to check no one was watching. He dragged the first away. Then the second. And then the third. They were all hidden behind the huge rubbish bin across the street. Riez did not know what he would say if someone came out and asked why there was only one guard, not three. He hoped no one would come out.

Then a buggy appeared at the end of the road. It was Kayato. Riez almost raised his gun to shoot at him by instinct and then he remembered. He ran to the warehouse door and took cover as the firing started. Glass exploded everywhere as windows shattered. Kayato whizzed past and swung round just as the door opened and five armed men ran out confused. More gunfire. Riez did not have time to see if Kayato had got away but slipped through the door. The first thing he saw was a pile of crates stacked ready to be loaded into the lorry. He noticed men carrying boxes to it and then returning for another load. He joined in, unnoticed by anyone. He was safe. The gunfire had stopped.

Kimoto twiddled a nob on the control panel of the silent helicopter. It flew higher, up and up above the clouds. Kazanka said,

“2 minutes till target.” Kimoto nodded and they flew on.

Riez walked up the stairs towards another pile of boxes. Ignoring this he walked on up another flight of stairs to where Jacques was. He looked at his watch. One minute to deadline. He fingered the grenades in his pockets nervously. This was not going to be a piece of cake. He reached the floor before the roof and stopped and looked around and in the dimly lit room he saw Jacques and two men hunched over a portable computer. They didn’t notice him come in and he slipped around the edge of the room still unseen and settled down behind some boxes in the corner. He waited. And he waited. His telecom beeped. The signal. Riez took out a smoke grenade and hurled it at the ceiling. Kaboom! The explosion rocked the room and opaque smoke filled the room. There were shouts of confusion and Jacques screamed,

“Where shall we go? Is it an attack. Stan, you there?” Riez had moved quickly. He had jabbed the man he assumed was Stan in the neck and shot the other man with his silenced pistol. Then he had thrown the second grenade into the air. He then answered Jacques, in place of Stan.

“I’m here, this gas is poisonous, quick, the roof.” Jacques shouted his agreement. Riez grinned to himself as he heard the gunfire that Kimoto and Kazanka has set up to make it sound like the warehouse was under attack. He climbed up the ladder followed by Jacques, who in the smoke could not see that he was not Stan. Then they were on the roof. The helicopter was not there yet. Riez swore and said,

“We’ll try to get away once the attack has stopped.” Jacques was slumped on the roof exhausted and shocked.

“Yes, yes that’s fine. . .”he replied. “But who the blimming heck is attacking us. I don’t understand. . .!” Then he was interrupted by a voice,

“Boss, it’s Stan, what happened. ..”said a head poking up form the skylight. Then he saw Riez. “What the. . .?” Riez drew his gun and fired. Or he meant to. Nothing came out. He had run out of bullets. Jacques was stunned into paralysis but Stan was not remotely disabled. He hurled himself at Riez, lashing out wildly. Riez ducked away and jabbed him in the face and he rolled away onto the edge of the roof. But he was up within seconds and ready to face Riez who swung a fist at him. But it caught him dead in the face and he stumbled and then regaining his balance in amazing speed knocked Riez out with a swift punch. Stan had one second to celebrate his triumph when machine-gun fire rang out and he was thrown off the roof. A black blur whizzed threw the night air onto the roof. Its name was Kazanka. He scooped up Riez and shoved him onto the waiting helicopter, hovering inches above the roof. Then, he looked around for Jacques. But he was nowhere to be seen!

“Where the heck is he?” But in the confusion, Jacques had made good his escape and was now in one of the lorries driving away from the warehouse.

In the helicopter Riez had just come round and was saying,

“What the heck happened? One moment I has Jacques and the next some thug attacked me. Where’s Jacques?”

“We don’t know yet, he’s got away, but Kayato’s attempting to find him. He’ll call when he gets him but if I know Jacques he will be in hiding.”replied Kimoto.

“Where are we going, then? HQ?”questioned Riez.

“No, or course not!”replied Kimoto, as if surprised by Riez’ question. “We’re on standby, for if and when Kayato picks up Jacques!”

Kayato revved his car down the motorway. He had changed vehicles when he had learned of Jacques’ escape and he had just found a lead into where he might be. He had asked a man if he had seen a lorry come past and he had seen one turning onto the motorway, but five minutes ago. Kayato was now going over a hundred miles per hour dodging other cars and receiving verbal abuse for the milliseconds that she passed a car. Then he saw it. Just on the horizon was a lorry which matched the description Kimoto has given him. He switched on his telecom and while driving said,

“KO calling K, I’ve seen a falcon flying down the motorway.” The message was acknowledged and then came the hard bit for Kayato. He was slowly gaining on the lorry and he did not think that Jacques knew he was after them but he still had to be careful. Then suddenly Kayato noticed a nozzle sticking out of the back of the lorry, aiming in his general direction. Then Kayato knew that he was not the target. Everyone else was. Then the firing started. Bullets tore at cars, sending them crashing into each other, producing explosions. Kayato swerved to avoid a hail of bullets and then pulled out his own handgun. It was all he had, but it would have to do. Now the gun was aiming at him. Kayato moved over to an opposite lane attempting to fire at the driver. She had him in clear sights and then he remembered. Jacques should not die and if the driver was hit, then the lorry would crash and Jacques would definitely die. Kayato drove alongside the lorry which was still spewing bullets out wreaking havoc behind it. Then suddenly, a gun poked out of the side of the lorry’s canvas, and it opened fire, missing Kayato but hitting cars on the other side of the motorway. Kayato wondered how long he would be able to hold out. He just hoped Kimoto would get here soon. He scanned the sky to his left. No sign of the helicopter and then he looked to the right. There he was, a black speck on the horizon, getting bigger and bigger. Kayato almost cheered and then he saw bullets flying through the air towards him. There was nothing he could do. They tore through the metal car roof and hit him on the chest and he was flung out of the car door which has swung open through the sheer force of the bullets. Kayato lay still in the grassy centre of the motorway, with cars whizzing past him on both sides and the lorry carrying on into the distance.

Kimoto, Kazanka and Riez looked down in horror form the helicopter as they saw the fire strewn path that the lorry has left in its wake. For about half a mile dilapidated cars lay burning across the road, bodies pitched randomly on the tarmac. And then suddenly the trail stopped and as the helicopter moved off in pursuit of the lorry they noticed an innate form lying on the grassy verge in the middle of the motorway but they did not pay it a seconds’ thought because it was just like hundreds they has just seen. The lorry was now within shooting distance and Kazanka was all for opening fire but Kimoto restrained him.

“Look, all of these lives will be wasted if we can’t capture Jacques. If we get him, we’ll get so much valuable information.” Kazanka completely disagreed with this,

“Look Kimoto, how many more lives will be spent today through this futile operation. Why, we don’t even know where Kayato is. He’s probably dead and we could just end this nightmare right here, right now.” Kimoto winced as he heard these words. They had all been wondering where Kayato was. He had not made contact for a whole hour, since saying he had sighted Jacques’ lorry.

“I’m sorry Kazanka, I too am worried about Kayato but we must capture Jacques alive. Think of how many lives it will save in the future.”

“It doesn’t matt. . .”Kazanka started but he was interrupted by Riez.

“Kazanka, Professor Kimoto is right, we must not waste this opportunity.” Kazanka, surprised by the force in Riez’ voice, remained silent and continued watching the lorry as they grew closer.

“How are we going to get him alive then?”said Riez.

“I have a plan, but it is quite audacious, but I can think of nothing else that can work.”replied Kimoto.

“And what is it?”said Riez.

“You will see. Although I advice you to hang on tight, if this goes wrong we’ll all die, though if it’s any consolation Kazanka, “He pointedly stared at Kazanka, “Jacques will die, if we die!”

“Brilliant. . .”muttered Kazanka, “Personally, I’m not ready to die yet, or ever for that matter.”

“Hang on then!”shouted Kimoto. He was lowering the helicopter above the lorry which was still quite oblivious to its presence. The helicopter went lower and lower and then,

“Kimoto, surely you’re not thinking. . .”

“Shut up!” They were going at 100 miles per hour and the metal runners were about to hook onto the top of the lorry. Crunch! There was a horrible grating sound as they connected. The driver of the lorry desperately tried to free itself from the grip of the helicopter, but to no avail. Cars all down the motorway were moving out of the way, screeching to a halt to watch the daredevil battle between the helicopter and the lorry. Then it all happened really quickly. Kimoto managed to unhook one of the runners, therefore knocking both the lorry and the helicopter off balance. The lorry tipped sideways as did the helicopter, but the helicopter disconnected and the lorry fell on its side and skidded, spinning towards the metal barriers lining the side of the motorway. It bounced several times before coming to rest in the centre of the road. Meanwhile the helicopter was spinning downwards towards the ground but Kimoto managed to right it just at the last second and they rose away clear of the ground and they regained height and hovered in the air about 50 metres up. Men flooded out of the upturned lorry, brandishing guns, obviously in the mood for revenge. They were about to open fire at the vulnerable helicopter when a police car screeched to a halt nearby, its sirens wailing. A policeman got out and was cut down by a hail of machine-gun fire from one of Jacques’ men. Then the actual car was blasted into non-existence by about ten guns. This, however, gave time for Kimoto to put the helicopter into a dive. Kazanka and Riez stuck their guns out of either side, blasting their enemies, who scattered and took cover, now only about 5 remaining. Kimoto landed the helicopter and Kazanka and Riez jumped out cradling their guns. Three of Jacques’ men were hiding behind a burning car. Kimoto saw them and using the guns built into the helicopter, blasted them and the car apart. Kazanka and Riez moved forward swiftly finishing off the two men. They held their guns in front of them as they began to search the lorry for Jacques. And to their shock and horror, he was nowhere to be seen. Then Kimoto’s voice came down from the helicopter.

“Guys, bad news, I assume you haven’t found Jacques.”Kazanka and Riez nodded dejectedly, surprised that Kimoto knew. “Yeah, well, I just got a call form someone in authority. I asked him to scan CCTV of the city a couple of hours ago before Kayato picked up Jacques’ trail. It seems that Jacques left the lorry just before they reached the motorway!”


Posted by on December 8, 2012 in Action, Adventure, Crime


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Please note that this story is my best story at the moment and the one that is being edited and continued.  Check here regularly for updates.  By he way, this is completely different from the original draft published.



Chapter 1




I woke up with the sun flooding into my room. I was in a daze, sleepy and warm. I was curled up in my bed clothes, cosy and with wandering thoughts. Life was good as the 15 year-old son of King Gwynne Maddock, Lord of all the Welsh Kingdoms. The land was peaceful and prosperous, no early bugles sounding. I yawned. It was the 5th November in the year of 1090, my father’s 5th year in office. Not so long ago, Rhi Bran ruled as the Lord over all, after ridding our land of the foul Norman oppressors.


Wales was split into 6 Kingdoms ruled by one King in each; each Kingdom was made up of many cantrefs. A Supreme Lord was set from one of these seven over us. They were chosen by vote of all the Kings every tenth year. God, we believed, presided over us as a higher being than even my Father. The kingdom I myself lived in was named Powys. The other 5 were Deheubarth, Gwynedd, Brycheiniog, Morgannwg and Gwent.

The latter was ruled by King Ithael. He was the previous Lord of the Cantrefs and if my father, God forbid, were killed, he would resume control of the 6 Kingdoms until a successor could be voted in. A long pause ensued as I dozed. King Ithael. . .was he bad or good? Rumours were flying around. At the time I had thought he was a little over-bearing but overall just a good ruler, just like my Father. Oddly, it seemed, no rumours flew around about my Father.


My father was a hard man, quick to anger and not slow to speak as his holy man would often remind him. However, he ruled fairly and would never harshly punish. But he was hard on me, saying that I was no knight, which was quite true, but he thought that it was a failing of the worst kind. I was an archer, as was my mother in her prime. People saw not the use for the Longbow, forgetting that a certain Rhi Bran, the first Lord of Wales, used one to drive the Ffreinc from Wales back to England. I could hit an apple at 200 yards with ease or when I sailed down the river past the border of Brycheiniog I could send a message through the window where Aerona Ceannadach lived in her Father’s castle. I liked her a lot. She was all-right for a girl. And she liked me yes, but we saw too little of each other for our friendship to flourish.


And now to my mother. An archer of real worth in her time and the one who taught me the way of the bow when Father’s back was turned. Father gave me the strictness I need to be brought up well, but my Mother the love and care. I wish my Father had shown me more attention as he did to my brother Garran, my Father’s champion at the time. He was a great soldier, I could not deny him that, but like my Father he saw my love and skill for the bow as a disgrace and preferred to ignore me rather than acknowledge pitiful me as his brother.

“Flynn, classes now!”my Mother’s voice called that morning interrupting my train of thought.

“Of course Mother!”I replied in a perhaps too charming voice, for she gave me a quizzical look.

The rest of that day was spent in classes, poring over Mathematics and other such studies. But this was not for me. I loved the great outdoors and wanted nothing more than to be in the woods hunting with my horse, with the breeze blowing through my short cropped hair and the sun brightening the path in front of me. But that was not to be for the rest of that day. The next day, however, was to turn out quite differently.


– – –

I woke at dawn as normal and quietly at that. I did not like to bother my servants at this hour, paid little as they were, they deserved their sleep. I was not the prince who lounged around while my servants did everything from making my bed neat to brushing my hair. Unlike my brother I did too often remark.


My bedroom was in the heights of one of the four towers of Castell Caerdydd my residence. The tower was where I and my family made leisure and sleep. From the window of my richly furnished room, I could see the green grass of my father’s fields. Later in the day I could see the serfs ploughing the fields with their trusty oxen. Sometimes I could see the blue river Taff swirl on a curly path over the horizon. On a clear day I could see Castell Coch, in which resides Aerona. A visit to my Father’s room is a scarce commodity but when I do so I could see just to the border of England where many a skirmish had been fought between my Father’s men and that of Red William, the son of great William The Conqueror. Red William was not as influential as his predecessor but he has barons who supported him with mighty armies. Thankfully the Ffreinc had not invaded with a big force for nigh on 10 years, at that time. I always thought that my father had the hardest Kingdom to control because of its size. That and the fact that he had to fend off occasional brave Ffreinc raiding parties who dared step over the border. Maybe that added to my father’s stress. Oh yes, and he was Lord of 6 Kingdoms of course.


Anyway, I was dressed in a fine tunic which I used for hunting. As I passed my brother’s room I could hear his snores resonating around his room. I always felt intimidated by the long corridors of Castell Caerdydd. I always preferred our home of respite in Caernarfon, the main city of Powys, bustling with life, although I could not hunt there. It took me a fair few minutes to walk down the cold stone stairs of the castle. Then I went down another portrait lined corridor to the castle’s great hall. I noticed my father’s seneschal Siarles preparing for his Lord to break his fast. He looked up with a forced smile as I entered.

“What is it you are doing Your Highness?”his smile flickering as he noticed my plain tunic, which I considered fine material.

“Fetch and saddle my horse, my bow and a sheaf of arrows!”I commanded. His face turned disdainful as I said this. But he did as I said. This was the only servant I was lazy with because I disliked him. He returned with my horse clattering over the cobbles of the courtyard where I had decided to wait. I slung my bow over my shoulder and clipped the sheaf of arrows to my belt. The seneschal looked despising at this and as I mounted my horse he turned in disgust.

“Let him. . .”I thought.


The gates were opened as I rode out on to the paved road leading from the castle. On my left loomed the forest of Caer Ffing. I always felt free there, so there I went to hunt. I spurred my horse on into the trees, my eyes darting around for life. My horse was a sturdy one, a gift of my late grandfather Llewelyn. It was a fine mare, the lightest of all horses, perfect for hunting. I cherished its beauty and fine brown skin. I had called her Lynne after my ageing grandmother. My grandma was one of the finest seamstresses in the whole Kingdom and possibly in Wales. Some I knew, boast of her skill as they used to in times past of Rhi Bran, my hero of archery. Most of my clothes then, although not fancy like my mother’s are made by grandmother. Aye, she was a fine master of her art.


Anyway, I had just noticed a set of tracks leading off into a dense thicket to my right. It was a deer, I had thought but then I remembered what Owain, my Father’s favourite tracker and my best adult friend, had said. A deer has prints much like that of a wild boar. The distinguishing feature between them, he had told me, was the smudge which came after the print. A deer moves lightly but a boar drags its feet as it runs. It was a boar, then, I realised. I was told by father not to tackle a boar on my own but I disregarded this as it was a small print and set off after it.


After a while I heard scuffling from a bush and saw movement amongst the leaves.

“Ah, there it is!”I thought, eagerly nocking an arrow to my bow. Aiming at the spot where I saw it move, I waited to see if it would appear. All of a sudden a fat brown nose poked out of the bush. A small one I noticed, glad that I hadn’t tackled something too big. I was about to let loose when I got the biggest shock since Garran pushed me into the castle’s freezing moat. There was sound coming from a different bush. A deeper grunting sound. I steadied my arrow on the bush and waited, aware that the smaller animal had scurried off. I moved my horse back, fearful of what might come out.

And I was right to be scared as the biggest boar I had ever seen charged out of the undergrowth. I knew I should have run but I loosed an arrow instinctively. It flew well wide of the mark. There was nothing for it but to leap with my arrows and bow off the horse onto the ground as the boar’s huge tusks punctured Lynne’s side. Regardless of the danger, no doubt I was furious at the ill-treatment of my beloved horse, I charged forward at the turning boar having discarded my bow. All I held was an arrow and my small hunting knife which was less than half the size of the boar’s tusks. It was foolish, what I did and the boar avoided my hurling body and turned to regard me on the floor helpless, my dagger lying feet away. I had been stupid and now I was going to pay. The board reared its ugly legs to finish me and then suddenly froze in mid air. It dropped dead. Two arrows protruded from its side. I saw Owain and my Father standing over me, clutching bows, Father evidently ashamed of having to resort to feathered death!


I don’t remember much else because of the thunder that erupted from my father at my foolishness. I tried to explain that I was tracking a small boar and the big one had just appeared. But he was having none of it, curse him!


I discovered later from Owain that a messenger had arrived at the castle with news of a huge herd of wild boar on the loose in the forest. I suppose I should be grateful for them coming after me.


Well. . . anyway, they confiscated my bow and suchlike, just waiting for an excuse they had been, all that month.

I went to bed very distraught and angry but acknowledging my stupidity.




I was deep in a dream about the Knights Tournament I had witnessed only the month before and as Aerona Ceannadach daughter of respected King Brychan I was expected to attend, and I had not regretted it. Some regarded Brycheiniog as a weak Kingdom because of its brilliance in the line of industry and in particular agriculture. It was true, that we did not like to fight and did not have a war host. However we had a Mobilization law meaning that everyone owned a weapon which could be called upon in times of war.


I am sorry to say that in my fifteen years of life, my father, the honourable Brychan, had had many a dispute over things with King Ithael. Not a war dispute but disagreement over simple things like travelling through the territory of Gwent, Ithael’s Kingdom. Handsome though he was, there was something most mysterious about him.


But enough of him. The six Kingdoms of Wales were ruled by six Kings and one over them all, that is King and Lord Gwynne of Powys. Aye, he had a charming son, Flynn. Many despised his talent with the bow, most of all his father. But they did not know what his bow might do in the future. Yes, he could be a little foolish, but he never failed to entertain. Aye, and he had a fine mare, so named Lynne after his dear grandmother, who was the most renown seamstress in Wales. Oh yes, many of my clothes were spun by her ageing hand. Having said that she was Flynn’s grandmother, his clothes were dire. I liked my clothes a lot. Often as I listened to my parents discussing the finer parts of harvest I gazed up at the carefully woven tapestries of the great hall and dreamt about a new dress I desired or the wish to see Flynn in garments better than a beggar.


Anyway, that day was a good day in the way that it was not raining but I also had a chilling experience. I woke late as usual to my servants tidying my room. They did it on a strict rota without fail, whether I was asleep or not. Sometimes I pretended to be asleep when they came in I could check their hands didn’t go anywhere they shouldn’t. I watched them dust the fine wooden chest-of-drawers and tie back my luscious pink curtains. I looked on in pity as dirty hands emptied my chamber pot out of the window in to the moat. Then occasionally they slipped on the polished wooden floor and I would stifle a giggle, remembering that that is not what a future queen would do. Future queen. If my Father died I would become the ruler of Brycheiniog. And my Father’s death was not altogether unlikely, due to his old age, although I by no means wanted him to pass away. The thought of being queen astounded me. What would it be like to have to discuss politics with your advisers? Or to entertain boring unknown Lords from other areas, from the cantrefs which made up the Kingdoms. I could not do it. Not then. But maybe one day.


As usual, that day I did my sleeping act and waited for the servants to go before I stretched, yawned and heaved myself out of bed, sleepily. However after splashing some water on my face, from the basin the servants had laid beside my bed, I felt much better, refreshed and ready to face the bleating of my seven year-old younger brother Aidan and the calm collected manner of my sister Marged.


Not long later I was at the great hall where Father entertained guests of all kinds. From nobles to serfs, anyone who needed a meal may pay a little and be granted food. Today, it seemed, there was a special group, with men-at-arms and several knights. There were no peasants merrily lining the wooden tables, downing pints. No frivolity, no travelling jongleur playing cheerful music. The soldiers at the tables were silent, tired looking, as if they had been walking all night. I went to find my Father. At that time of the morning, he would usually be in his dressing quarters with Mother. I proceeded to that place and knocked on the door. I hear my Mother’s voice from inside, well brought up rich voice calling,

“Is that you Aerona dear? Come in.” I pushed open the door and stepped inside, glad to see the familiar figure of my Mother, rather than any of those drowsy soldiers.

“Good morning, Mother. How are you on this fine day?”I said.

“Very well ,dear. Now what is it you want? If you’re looking for your Father, he is in an important meeting with someone!”she said, telling me what I wanted.

“With whom?”I asked.

“That is not for you to know, but you understand that he must not be interrupted?”she questioned me, her steely eyes boring into me.

“Of course, Mother.”I replied sweetly and hurried away, shutting the door loudly behind me. Then I hurried off to the meeting room where my Father would be with his guest. Contrary to my mother’s wish of course.


The meeting room was behind a solid oak door and solid wall so I had no hope of seeing the visitor but after many years of eavesdropping I knew what to do. Looking, each way down the long corridors, past the inbuilt crevasses in the wall, I checked that no one was coming. Satisfied I bent down and placed my ear next to the small crack in the bottom of the door. I could hear faint voices.


“I cannot. . .”my Father’s voice.

“But my Lord Brychan, surely you can consider. . .”

“Never!”roared my Father again, “You are asking me to side with the. . .”Then a different voice, spoke in a sickly tone. A shiver ran down my spine as I pressed closer to the door.

“You know things will go badly with you if you don’t.”it said. Then my Father’s voice,

“Is that a threat? It’s all very well asking me to make a new. . .”

“You have been warned!”came the horrible voice again menacingly. I wanted to push the door open and attack the man who had behaved this way in my father’s castle.

“The answer is still no. . .”said my Father. “If you come one more time, on this matter, I will tell King Gwynne. You can make this move into the fog yourself and see what happens, I am perfectly hap. . .” The sickly voice interrupted again,

“In that case, that is all. Goodbye. It seems that I have failed.” But the voice sounded the opposite of someone who had failed. There was something knowing in his voice. Then I suddenly realised my predicament. I was outside the meeting room eavesdropping. There would be no other way to explain it. What other reason would I have had for being down here. I gathered my skirt and fled for the nearest inbuilt crevasse and flattened myself against the wall. They would not be able to see me here. I prayed that they would go the other way, to the great hall. The door opened, and I risked a quick glance round the wall. Two guards stepped out and stood either side of the door. Then I saw my father emerge flanked by four of his men. Then more soldiers and finally someone else, but I couldn’t make out who it was in the jostling of the guards as my father said some more words to the man I couldn’t see. To my relief they went the other way down the corridor. I craned my neck to try and see the man with the sickly voice but all I could make out was occasional flashes of a black cloak and a ruby encrusted sword hanging at his belt, glistening in the fire light of the torches on the wall. They rounded the corner and that was the last I saw of the mysterious sickly voiced stranger.


Thinking back to the conversation later that evening I remembered the veiled threat in the stranger’s statement, my father’s anger at it all and the commanding presence in the assured way he concluded his “failure”. I would have liked to ask my Father about the visitor, but there would be no way of concealing my presence outside the door if I had, and my father would be inexplicably angry if he learned of this. So I let the matter drop. It slowly slipped out of my mind until the evening and as I went to bed that day I pondered over it.


Narrator: 1 Month Earlier-Bristol Castle


Bristol Castle stood proudly in the rising sun, its moat reflecting the brilliant light onto the four cylindrical towers which punched the sky on each corner of the castle. Their red roofs seem to highlight the magnificence of the great castle. Recently built it had served the Normans brilliantly in defending the surrounding region from barbaric Welsh pillagers from the west. The red roofs blinding colour seemed to have intensified that morning. Maybe that was because of the presence of Red William, King of England. The castle had been in a state of feverish preparation since word had reached the Baron of this castle that the King was arriving. Now he was here.


High above the great hall where the Baron and the King were feasting, on one of the towers balconies, Baroness Gabrielle frowned and gazed over the beautiful landscape. She wondered what the King had come to see her husband about. The Baron reckoned it was to do with setting new taxes on the land and as one of his most trusted advisors the Baron thought he would consult him first. Gabrielle did not think so. Why would the King give only a couple of days notice of his arrival unless it was something important. Something very important. And very important things meant, possibly, days of travel for her husband or the deployment of his troops into battle. Maybe it would be a full scale assault on Ireland, or even an attack on the barbaric Scottish from the North. Both foolish ideas, the Baroness men’s Team Tabknew. But there was something different about this. There was not the usual glamour that a King would travel with. Just a small band of him and some knights. Nothing else. When he had arrived, the King had actually been disapproving of the fuss made over his arrival by her husband.


Suddenly the Baroness’s train of thought was abruptly halted when the wooden door behind her opened, which directly followed on to a spiral stairwell. A brown haired servant poked his head around the door and suddenly remembered who he was talking to, bowed and waited for leave to speak.

“Speak.”said the Baroness.

“The Baron requires your presence to bid farewell to our important visitor.”he said in a well educated voice. The baroness sighed and announced her compliance

“I will be down in a minute.”she said. The servant disappeared and the Baroness was alone once more. She took one more look at the bright shining sun and reluctantly followed the servant’s footsteps.

The Baroness arrived in the courtyard to find her husband looking tired but managing to hold his pompous-looking poise while the King, Red Willam climbed onto his horse and made ready to leave with his entourage. It was a very unusual way for a King to travel this way but such was the nature of the visit the Baroness supposed. The King looked over towards the Baron and his wife and nodded towards the latter and said,

“Farewell Lady Gabrielle.”The Baroness looked up in surprise at this compliment. It did not literally mean that she was a Lady but it was a praise of the highest kind. Charmed by this, the Baroness curtsied and said,

“Farewell Your Highness, may you have a speedy journey.”

“Goodbye Bernard and remember what I have told you. Convey the details to your wife, but no-one else. Thank you for your. . . warm welcome.”he smiled and grimaced and then he rode off out of the gate and back to London.


When the Baron and Baroness had entered, the fire had been burning nicely, sending a warmth around the room. Now, a chill seemed to have descended, as the Baron told his wife the reason for the King’s visit. Baroness Gabrielle was stunned,

“Go to live there? It was bad enough living here, but there?”the Baroness was livid. “Bernard, what the King asks of you is too much. You would leave the Castle wide open and live in that dump, just to get money? You are rich already, why risk everything for a small amount of extra money? If you were caught making negotiations there, they would kill you.”

“What the King is offering me, is not a small amount of money. And anyway, I do not have to make any negotiations. There is our ally, doing that for us. He is paid well enough not to get scared at the last, and he doesn’t seem like that sort of person either. . . But anyway, all I have to do is kick start it all by making my presence known to our ally. He will do the rest and when it is safe we will go with our army and rid ourselves of the tiresome ally and we will have our own. . .”

“NO!”the Baroness interrupted angrily. “Thousands of our men will die. Never can we go. . .”

“There will be no battle. The plan is well thought out and none of those foul. . .”the Baron was cut off as soon as he cut off his wife’s comment,

“Believe me, they’ll skulk around in the shadows until they think of a wa Englandy to get you out of. . .”

“THERE IS NO ARGUMENT! I have agreed to do as the King says. In a few days time, I will go and discreetly give our ally the all clear to start the plan. Then very very soon, we will take control. They will never stand up to our mighty armies. Our ally thinks he will have control and we will be overseers, after it all, but in fact we will be in control and the King our overseer! Imagine having fifty castles under your control instead of one!”the Baron’s violent outburst was enough to send Baroness Gabrielle into tears and it did. Why did they have to do this?


Chapter 2




So far in my life, the 9th November was probably the worst day I had ever had at that point. That day I woke up early at about five and waited for several minutes to make sure no-one else was up. Hopefully, at seven, when the servants rose, I would have had my bow back. But I wasn’t stupid enough to hope Father would not realise that I had reclaimed my bow. Getting the bow back from the cellar would be a challenge, but do-able. But Father checked the wine cellar, where he left the bow, every day and he would be sure to notice its absence. So I decided to find a bow which looked like it. This was harder than I thought : it seemed that as my bow was of a high quality, none of the castle bows would do. They looked different. I decided that I had to make one. So from dawn to evening, the day before, I had carved a bow. It would not have worked very well, but it looked like my real bow enough to fool my father’s keen eyes. I also re-painted a spare quiver I had to look like my real one. And by the time I crept down to the wine cellars this morning, I had equipment suitable to fool anyone.


There was always a guard on duty outside the cellar’s single door as valuable items were kept down there, not to mention the castle’s gold. I had devised a simple way to get inside. With my bow and quiver slung over my back, I grabbed a couple of stones out of my pocket. There was a long corridor stretching past the entrance to the cellar with a little passage leading to the door. I crept up to the passage and satisfied that no-one was looking either way; I peeped around the corner. There was the guard, pike on the ground, leaning against the wall, day-dreaming. I pinged one of the pebbles at him, hitting his fore-head and causing him to look-up, astonished. Then I made tapping noises to draw his attention, and was rewarded with a sleepy,

“’Oo’s there?” Then I coughed loudly and the guard grabbed his pike and walked up the small passage. I then made running noises loudly and crept off in one direction and hid myself in an in-built crevasse. At that point I was wondering whether I had bitten off more than I could chew. In a last ditch effort to get him away from the cellar, I hurled the other pebble down the corridor. It clattered noisily, echoing eerily. The guard swung round and started walking away from me. I seized my chance and hurtled out of hiding into the small passage-way leaving the bewildered guard wondering what the source of all the weird noises was. I felt slightly sorry for him, but I slipped through the cellar door gleefully, glad that the door was not jammed. Just as I shut the door I heard the guard returning and breathed a huge sigh of relief.


Once inside, I looked around. I had not often been in there at that time and I marveled at the way the ceiling seemed to curve upwards and out of sight. It had to be some sort of optical illusion because I could never really see it clearly. Castell Caerdydd is renowned for its architecture, but living there all my life, it had not seemed all that special. But there was something about this room that was amazing. It made you stop still. . .


Years on I was to realise that it was a wine cellar and stank accordingly. There was a big stack of wine bottles about twenty metres high. I wondered how I could be transfixed by this. Then I saw it. My bow. It hung from a wooden rafter along with my quiver. Joyfully I ran towards it, forgetting that there was a guard outside and he would be startled by sounds from an apparently empty room. And that was when I made my mistake. Taking my bow down, being on tiptoes, I slipped and fell headlong into the wine stack. Oops. No laughing matter. My head knocked a bottle of fifty year old wine onto another bottle and another and another until five or six bottles lay in a smashed red heap on the cobbles. I froze. I was petrified. Had the guard heard? A yell! He had. I grabbed my bow and quiver and sprinted towards a huge pile of chests of gold and dived behind them, just as the door opened and the guard looked in, pike raised.

“What the____”he said. (Example of foul language). The guard was gazing at the mess of broken glass and expensive wine. I ducked my head as the guard scanned the room anxiously.

“This is beyond me!”he muttered. He turned and hurriedly left the room, obviously going to look for someone high up to deal with the situation. I took my chance and fled the room, and ran up the passage, in the guard’s footsteps. I saw him just reaching the end of the left corridor. Not good. That was the only way back to my room. If I went after him I risked being caught. Turning the other way I sped off like a lightning bolt. I ran until I reached the courtyard and then I turned off down another passage-way, knowing that this would at least take me back to the living quarters, where I could wait until this fiasco was over. I slumped down on a wooden chair and thought. They had no way of the knowing it was me. They would probably just say that it was the guard, meddling with the bottle, trying to take a sip and then knocking the bottles off, I had thought, wrongly.

Anyway, I was glad I got my bow and quiver back. Bow and quiver. BOW AND QUIVER! I had forgotten to plant the fake bow and quiver. Yes, there were two bows on my back, and two quivers. I-was-doomed. Desperately I looked around, trying to think of something to do. Maybe my Father won’ have seen that the bow and quiver had gone yet, I thought desperately to myself. Praying silently to myself, I ran as fast as I could, back to the corridor. There didn’t seem to be anyone about. I stole down the cobbles to the turning to the cellar. The door was shut. Maybe they hadn’t seen fit to inform Father at this early hour. After all, it was only a few bottles breaking. The most expensive bottles of wine I had thought grimly to myself. I walked cautiously down to the door and pushed it open.

“Flynn, I believe we have something to talk about!”someone said in a stern voice.

It was my father. I gulped.


What happened then, I do not like to say. But the long and short of it was that they burnt my bow, real and fake, along with the quivers and I was sent to bed early (very early- eight in the morning) after a strong lecture on “How a Prince should behave” and “Bows are for girls”.


Not the best day. I wonder whether I’ll ever be able to shoot a bow again. I went to sleep more dejected than ever Hopefully tomorrow would be better I had thought probably rather optimistically..





My siblings and I shared a tutor. A month ago he had fallen ill. It was apparently something to do with food poisoning. Anyway, he obviously could not teach us because of this, so we had no lessons for a while. This was no hardship as Elocution, Court Behaviour, Mathematics and Reading and Writing were not my favourite subjects. However I had missed Weaving and the long afternoons spent drawing the surrounding country-side. Aidan of course missed none of this (he still got to do swordsmanship)but Marged was bitterly disappointed, as she was more the intellectual type. One year younger than me, she would always say,

“Oh Aerona, how can you stand doing that boring weaving? You must indulge yourself more in the fine arts of Mathematics and Reading. I really don’t get what you see in gazing mournfully at the hills and drawing them.”To which I would tell her to shove off (very un-future-queenly) and she would slink off in a sulk. I sometimes think that she had designs on the throne and bemoaned my hatred of Elocution and Court Behaviour, which was, she would say: “Tremendously important”. Enough about my siblings (in particular my sister).


So, the tutor was ill and everyone generally had nothing to do. There would often be arguments and rows, ending with a dark air hanging around for days to come.


So, for a month, we had no tutor. Until the 8th November. Father had hired one from Gwent, a man called Euan Evans, saying that our old tutor would not be coming back. We had lessons that day. At least it relieved our boredom.


Evans was a proud man. He preferred to teach us the history of Wales, rather than anything like Mathematics or Reading. Occasionally he did those but very rarely. He was thinly built with mean lips, always in a sneer, when he saw me. Yes, he disliked me because of my don’t-carish attitude over the history of Wales but he also had a grudging sense of awe about me, because of my royal heritage. He seemed to like Marged a lot because of her love for studying, but he did not have much time for Aidan. Why it was only the morning after he came that he snapped at Aidan for merely forgetting that Rhi Bran lived in the forest all his life rather than on an island in a river.


So that day was fairly tedious. Ten minutes into tutoring I had forgotten that it was a new teacher and settled into the monotony of lessons. It was that boring.


The next day was not that different except he kept going on about his glorious home Kingdom of Gwent.


We sat in a small room on the ground floor of the castle, listening to his dull voice for several hours. His shaggy grey beard bobbed up and down as he gesticulated. His bald head shined in the light of the lamp above us as Marged listened intently to him. He always wore a brown tunic, all his garments were plain. All except the beautiful shiny ring which was on the fourth finger of his left hand. It was a sign of his marriage to his wife and he wore it grudgingly, almost as if he would rather wear dark colours all the time.


However, as I said, on the 10th he talked about his Kingdom Gwent and for the first time he said something of interest. It was about Rhi Bran, the master archer who used to live in the forest for years and finally came out of hiding with a large army and drove the Ffreinc from our land. The odd thing wss that Euan spoke of the Normans in scared awe, rather than in disgust. He read a passage from an old book written by a Ffreinc monk who had converted to Rhi Bran’s side. It read like this:


Of all the forest’s wonderful creatures, none other than the legendary Rhi Bran captivates my mind. Surprisingly it is not the red squirrel or the black and white badger that holds a place in my heart, despite my years in the greenery, but the archer, who rid Wales of my race the Ffreinc. I realised the atrocities they committed in the beautiful country, Wales. I am glad to this day, that I chose the right path. Thus I was allowed a place in Gwent alongside Rhi Bran in his final years. I was not made to follow my fellow country-men back to England where they retreated but was given a place beside him. To me, it felt like I was no longer a Norman, but in my part of the rebellion against my race’s rule I gained Welsh blood. Rhi Bran died four years ago and I fear that I will soon go. But I fear not as those who terrorized the simple Welsh farmers. For their afterlife will be unpleasant and they will pay for their crimes. I myself, sacrificed pleasures on this Earth, to live a life scurrying from place to place, sleeping in hedges and meadows, drinking unclean water. But I know my reward will come when I die. And as I, my friends, Tomas, Iwan and the rest die, those who read this manuscript will learn the lesson. I do fear that one day others will try to gain Wales, namely the Ffreinc, my own people. When they attempt to, remind them of the battles that Rhi Bran won, and let them know that the Welsh people will never lie down and let them maraud over their beautiful countryside. Stay in England, where you still do not belong, but never try to conquer Wales. Every last one of them will go down fighting. They will hide in the forests, you will never have rest, you my countrymen, if you conquer Wales. This is my warning. I will die soon but I have no fear. Goodbye.


Marged was not moved by this at all. She had a discussion with Euan for half an hour debating the validity of this. They both came to an agreement that this monk was a fraud. I however believed differently. There was something that rung true about his account. And it reminded me of someone. Flynn.




The man moved cautiously down the corridor glancing from left to right occasionally as if fearful of being seen. Maybe he was fearful of being seen. He reached a door and listened intently for a moment. Nothing stirred apart from a small noise. Deep breathing. It was a girl, made obvious by the way she breathed. She was asleep, and deeply at that. The man pushed the door open carefully and stopped again to check he had not woken the sleeper. Satisfied, he walked across the room and brought something out of the pocket of the long tunic he was wearing. He nudged the girl gently. She did not move. Then harder he pressed down on a pressure point in her neck. She sat up with a start and was evidently about to scream when a hand clamped over her mouth and the man whispered

“Shh! Make a noise and I’ll use this.”he indicated the object in his hand. A knife. It gleamed in the moonlight peeping through the curtains. The girl was terrified. The man said in a low voice,

“Get up! You will walk in front of me the whole time and you will not make a sound. Do you understand?” The girl nodded hastily, afraid of incurring the wrath of the knife. Silently they walked out of the room together, the girl still in her nightgown, trailing across the dark corridor. Minutes later they were at a door. It was opened by someone from the outside. The man with the girl whispered,

“I’ve got her here, well behaved she’s been, my Lord. . .” The man outside interrupted angrily,

“How dare you use my name, you fool. Imbecile. I came here specially tonight and you go blathering. I could have got my servants to come, but no. I, in one carriage came with but one servant, my bodyguard who I can trust and you nearly wreck it. Imagine if someone was listening.”There was silence for a moment and then the girl piped up,

“What do you want with me? Who are you?”

“All in good time, my dear.” The moon light glinted off the sheaf of his sword. It was a reddish gleam, of a ruby. The girl gasped in shock and horror.

“You!”This was too much noise for the liking of the first man who slapped his hand round her face,

“Shut up!”Then he changed his tone of voice to talk to the man with the ruby encrusted sword. “Er, I was just wondering about my payment. . .”he said.

“You have already been paid.”replied the man with the sword. His voice was monotonous but in its own way angry.

“Ah yes, well you paid me for the job but my silence is another matter.”he replied. The man with the sword simply replied:

“I’ll see what can be done.”The first man looked pleased at this.

“Can I have a look at your dagger for a moment? It looks high in quality.”said the swordsman. The kidnapper looked mystified at this as it was a simple kitchen knife. But he complied nevertheless. The swordsman turned the dagger in his hand and then in a sudden swift movement he twirled the dagger above his head and punctured it into the kidnapper’s forehead. There was only a look of shock on his face as he realised. And then he died. The swordsman grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her along with him into the night leaving the dead man with blood seeping down his head into the ground. Moments later a carriage clattered off down a cobbled road towards the Kingdom of Gwent.




The 10th November was the day when my life changed in ways I did not know were possible. I woke up bright and early and went down to breakfast and much to my surprise I discovered my Father already up and around, in the great hall having a conference with his advisors. Now, this only happened when there was a crisis in the Kingdom so I knew something big was up. I soon discovered. And I was shell-shocked. Nothing could have prepared me for this news. The previous night, it seemed, Aerona had been kidnapped from the castle and taken away to places unknown. No one knew who had done it. But it was not a straight-forward tale of abduction. There was an unanswered question on everyone’s mind. The tutor of the children of King Brychan., Aerona’s father, had been found dead with a knife wound in his head. Some were arguing that he had heard the kidnapping taking place and had gone out to see what was wrong. It seemed he had been killed by the abductor, obviously panicked that someone might raise the alarm. However, contrary to this view, the majority found it most mysterious that the tutor was found outside the castle rather than in it. Also, his rooms were on the other side of the castle. So why was he up and about? There was heavy belief that the tutor was involved in the kidnapping but no one could prove this and if he was part of the plot why was he killed? But all tiny details aside, the princess of a Kingdom had been kidnapped and was presumably being held for ransom.


There was an air of doom and gloom around the whole of Wales that day. My Father had sent horse riders to comb the country but by that evening nothing had been found. The only clue to the whereabouts of Aerona, were tracks leading to Gwent but they could have been anyone’s. Now, we did not know at the time, but those tracks were the right ones.


I went to bed that evening still in a state of despair. I slipped in and out of sleep, touching blissfulness and then being snatched away by my thoughts. I was just finally getting to sleep when my door creaked open and because of the day’s events I was quite touchy I sat up quickly and grabbed my dagger but it was only my Father. I heaved a sigh of relief and asked,

“What is it Father?”

“Flynn? Something had just happened. It means that we have to go fairly early tomorrow to King Brychan,”explained Father. So make sure you’re ready!” My heart soared at this news! No sitting around all day, but possibly chasing after the vagabond who took Aerona. I had assumed it was about Aerona.

“Is it to do with the kidnapping, Father?”I asked.

“No. Now get to sleep now. And make sure you’re up early!”The door shut. So it was not about Aerona. I thumped back down to Earth. I had imagined fighting hordes of enemies from Aerona or going on a daredevil attempt to get her back. But no. I was tempted to run after my Father and demand to know what had happened. His face had certainly looked grave but it could have just been the flickering light playing tricks in my mind.


The next morning the 12th November I woke later than I had wanted, I suppose it was to do with the late night talk with my Father. I hurried around putting on a new tunic which had been laid out for me by the servants. I did everything so quickly that I did not notice that it had snowed last night. Finally, once we were ready to leave-Father, Garran and I and my Father’s usual retinue of servants and soldiers-I noticed the snow. It was beautiful. The early morning Sun shone down on it making it sparkle like thousands of people winking at me from the ground. Icicles hung from trees, melting even as I watched.

“Let’s go!”I heard my Father’s voice sound, muffled because of the snow. We thundered off down the cobbles and then onto the dirt tracks, now coated in white fluffy snow. It was fun at first, riding in the snow, your horse flinging it up in the air. But then halfway to the castle, about two hours later, the jolly chatter which had buzzed through the group turned into the chattering of teeth and cloaks being drawn more tightly around oneself. Also, the snow had melted further and every now and then a horse slipped sending a cascade of snow in the air only to annoy a rider behind him. My Father had to silence several arguments which if had happened in the guard’s mess room would have ended in a free for all on the floor. At last we arrived at the castle where King Brychan lived. I noticed all the journey that Garran had pretended not to feel the cold, but it showed soon enough as he huddled round the fire like everyone else, shoving me viciously out of the way.


My Father had gone off to speak to King Brychan in a meeting room. I gathered the news from titbits of what the soldiers were saying. King Brychan wanted to separate his Kingdom from the other Kingdoms and be independent for no apparent reason. My Father, great friends with King Brychan and also being Lord of all the Kingdoms decided to try and dissuade him. But so far it was not working at all. They had two meetings. The first when we got to the castle and the second in the afternoon. Meanwhile, Garran and twenty soldiers sat merrily draining casks of beer but I sat in the corner on my own. Did they not know that what was taking place was sensational. For the first time since Rhi Bran was Lord of all, a King wanted to break away from the rest of Wales. It was unheard of. And all they could do was sit there and drink beer, for goodness’ sake. I was frustrated. First Aerona disappears and then someone we all thought a trustworthy man demands independence. I gathered later from my Father that King Brychan had been very certain that he wanted to have independence but he had not looked too pleased about it. It was very strange.


Just before the second meeting started and my Father was sitting gloomily discussing the situation with his advisors (the negotiations had not gone too well) the great halls door’s swung open and a gust of snow blew in. King Ithael marched in surrounded by his guards. Everyone looked up. My Father said,

“Ah, King Ithael, how good to see you!”however his face betrayed that it was not good to see him.

“Good day, my Lord, I’ve heard that there is some business going on with old King Brychan. Something about making independence.” He looked enquiringly at my Father who was about to reply when another door opened and King Brychan entered,

“Lord Gwynne, are you ready for our meeting, I assure you that my mind cannot. . .”he stopped as he saw Ithael.

“Ithael.”It was said with no emotion but it was quite clear that he was not wanted. There was a cold look in his eye which seemed to want to say something but that there was something in the way. Something stopping him saying it.

“I thought I’d join the meeting, some tosh about inde. . .”he was interrupted by my Father,

“Not here. Lets go. . .”he indicated the door and he, King Brychan, King Ithael and all their advisers went out. The hall erupted into a babble of voices, suddenly everyone was interested.




The meeting room was warm and cosy. It consisted of a large wooden round table with three chairs around. A fire was burning merrily in the corner. But somehow, above the warmth of the room, a cold chill hung like a sheet of ice ready to break at the slightest movement. King Brychan sat, sullen and foreboding, daring someone to contradict his desires. King Gwynne sat, despairing, and distressed. But in contrast, King Ithael had his feet up on the table, his cloak hung on the back of his chair, looking quite at ease with the situation. King Gwynne spoke first,

“Now, look here Brychan old boy, I’ve always given you a special place at my table and the first choice of my Kingdom’s girls for your knights but this is just too much. After all we’ve been through together. Surely you remember the Battle of Cochelli where we fought side by side. And now this. Perhaps you are unsatisfied, thought I can’t think why. But if you are please voice your. . . opinions and we may be able to rectify the problem.” King Brychan merely glanced at Gwynne and spoke,

“I’m telling you, I want independence and I only asked you so this can happen without bloodshed. . .”

“You do realise,”came a cold voice, Ithael, “that the combined armies of Wales would crush your army immediately and your pitiful. . .”

“ENOUGH, Ithael!”roared King Gwynne. “Your opinion is valued, but to threaten someone here, is a crime. I ask you to keep a lid on your emotions. . .despite the circumstances.”he glanced at King Brychan.

“Of course, my Lord. I am deeply remorseful!”said Ithael in his silky unnatural voice. “I only wished to convey my. . .disappointment at Brychan’s decision. For we have always been good friends.” This was obviously not true because suddenly all the servants lining the room shuffled their feet and coughed nervously. Gwynne stared straight into Ithael’s eyes and rebuked him soundlessly. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the voice of King Brychan,

“Can we please just get on with this. Some of us do not wish to sit here all day.”

“Well, I’m not sure, really this should be put to vote. . .”said Gwynne but he was hurriedly and surprisingly interrupted by King Ithael,

“My Lord, I suggest we allow dear Brychan here to have independence, although I don’t doubt that he will come back to us in good time, after finding that farming won’t keep the Normans out.”he grinned around the table nastily. “Possibly he finds the handling of his daughter’s kidnap rather. . . inadequate, I wouldn’t blame him. . .”

“HOW DARE YOU?!”shouted Gwynne angrily. “How dare you suggest such a thing? This meeting is cancelled. As High Lord of all of Wales, I decree that the Kingdom of Brycheiniog is now independent. All trade routes will be cut off until a diplomatic treaty can be arranged. That is all.”

– – –

I was so bored. King Ithael’s arrival had been the last interesting thing to happen and that had been four hours ago. In the time between the soldiers had got drunker and drunker and Garran had fallen asleep in a haze of wine, very un-princely. Therefore I decided that I could go for a wander. Besides, there was no chance of me getting in any trouble because everyone was asleep or slouched over the wooden benches in the great hall. I left by a sidedoor and found myself in a sloping stairwell, evidently leading down to a wine cellar. I was about to go back when I heard voices. My natural instincts told me not to go away but listen. I don’t why my instincts told me this but it was probably was because the voices were both in a deep rich strange language. Then suddenly I realised that it was French! It immediately struck me as odd, because we Welsh hated the Normans, who spoke French, and that they would not be allowed anywhere near our country let alone inside a King’s castle. I carried on listening for a while and I picked up occasional words which I happened to know, but I did not know enough to make sense of it. Then I heard one of them address the other as Baron Neufmarche, because Baron is the same in French as it is in the language I speak. So, I thought, not only are there French in the castle but one of them is high ranking. I had heard the name Neufmarche used with great contempt by my Father. I knew that he was an important Baron in England. I was just creeping down the stairs to get a glimpse of the two Ffreinc but suddenly I heard them start to come up the stairs. Quickly, making far to much noise I hurried up the stairwell, but they heard me and shouted,

“Ei, who there?!”in broken Gaelic obviously not wanting to be noted as a foreigner. But I did not wait to be discovered and I rushed away through the door and into the hall, where my brother, Garran was sleepily pulling on his cloak and he said drunkily,

“Where on Earth ya’ been, we’re going. Father’s lost the discussion, he’s getting ‘is independence!” All around me were soldiers mounting their horses, and I could see my Father riding around commanding the men to hurry. Then I noticed him address a few words to King Brychan, and they were evidently not happy ones, because my Father had a sour look on his face. At my father’s words Brychan turned away angrily. Then I saw Ithael. And for some strange reason he was grinning. But it was an evil grin, not a happy one. Something had gone his way.


We left soon after, and a very subdued party headed back to Castell Caerdydd. There was no joyful chatter as we headed homewards, the snow melting beneath our feet. But none of this seemed to bother me. I was more preoccupied with the two French men I had heard talking in the wine cellar. Why were they there. How could Normans possibly, these days, get into Wales unnoticed, without inside help. And then it hit me. What if they had something to do with the kidnapping of Aerona. These thought were swirling around me, and I wanted to let it out to someone. I decided on Garran. I think it was probably not the best time to do this, seeing as he was still feeling the affects of the wine and he had a thumping headache. But I sidled up to him while we were riding and I said,

“Garran?” he looked at my,

“Yeah, what is it, can’t you give me a moment’s peace?”he replied annoyed as our steady canter continued.

“I’m sorry, but it’s important”I said.

“Really, can’t it wait until we get back to the castle? I’m. . .”he complained.

“No, it can’t, it’s basically like this. . .”and I told him all I had seen and heard from the Frenchmen, not including my suspicions about them being involved in Aerona’s kidnapping. He then looked at me with something like anger on his face,

“What kind of rubbish are you coming out with these days. It’s probably just some fantasy you’re made up in your silly head and made it big and real. I’m telling you now, no Ffreinc could get within a mile of Wales without been spotted, let alone into Wales. Besides, surely you aren’t thinking of telling Father? What with all the troubles he’s got at the moment. Aerona’s kidnap, Brychan getting independence. Do not worry him with your cock and bull stories about imaginary Normans in Welsh castles.” And with that, leaving me speechless, he rode off to join his friends. I was paralysed with anger. I was tempted to tell father about the Ffreinc just to spite Garran, but deep down I agreed with him, Father had enough on his plate at the moment. It would not be wise to tell him. Besides I did not know if he was still smouldering over the wine incident. But deep down, I knew something very serious was up, but I could not quite place my finger on it.




Posted by on May 7, 2012 in Action, Adventure


Journey to Kraznir


The last space shuttles burst through the atmosphere, leaving the stricken Earth for the last time. Behind them, thousands of cities lay deserted as the planet veered on a collision course with the Sun. The average temperature was 40 degrees centigrade, and near the equator, people had just crumpled up and died.

Journey to Kraznir

by Harry legg

Carlos Quince loaded his Meteor-60 gun. It was a large black piece of equipment. He and his men around him knew the target! Bella Diece Seis! There was heavy rivalry between the two Spanish families. It had escalated to war in 2083, but then the meteorite hit the Earth and it had been halted, but only temporarily. But now it had started again, as Mars had been settled. The big convoy of spaceships packed with people from different countries had landed in the Slisnian Crater, as it was now known. Over 30 years had past and still the settlement had spread in all directions to the newly formed city of Kraznir. A new sort of train service had been set up using materials salvaged form the remains of the Earth and metals they had found in the crust of Mars. But now, the Earth was uninhabitable and the side facing the Sun was a layer of fire. The planet did not spin on an axis any more, it was hurtling towards the Sun. Experts estimated 4 or 5 months until it collided with the Sun, if there was anything left of it by then.

The Moon had been settled finally in 2054 by the Russians who had found a way to pump oxygen into the Moon’s atmosphere. But without a spacesuit, you could only spend up to an hour outside and by then your would be panting. In 2074 Mars had been landed on by two British astronauts, Charles Brown and Jamie Sanders. Since then missions, to and from Mars had occurred, much like the Apollo missions, resulting in preparations to settle Mars. Unfortunately, they had not foreseen the catastrophic disaster about to occur. The attempt now had to happen with 4 billion people instead of 3000. They were poorly equipped, but the main thing was; they were alive on Mars 30 years on.

The Moon had been give to the countries of Europe, while Mars was settled by the rest of the world. However, the races had mixed together, and everywhere had different races inhabiting it.

Carlos snapped out of his thoughts and concentrated on the door where Bella was meant to appear. They would stun her, kidnap her and get away and head for the boss of the Quince family in Kraznir. There, they would demand a ransom and hope they could kill Beni Diece Seis, Bella’s brother, when he inevitably came to rescue her.

“Sir, target sighted!”said Carlos’ cousin Ricardo. He nodded:

“Make sure your weapons are set on stun! We can’t afford to make a hash of this.” He glanced provocatively at Sanches his nephew, “remember, we need her alive!” Sanches glared back at him and then turned to level his gun at Bella.

“Fire!”yelled Carlos. Windows smashed; the red stone of the ground flew everywhere. Bella was out cold as Carlos jumped down to retrieve her. He could hear voices coming from inside the wrecked building. Then, Sergei Diece Seis emerged, shell-shocked. Carlos said,

“Got your sister, haha!”Sergei screamed back at him,

“Give her back you slime-ball!” Carlos fired once at his chest. He would come round in an hour or so and surely go and tell his clan. Sergei was the youngest of Bella, Beni and himself. He was the least dangerous and that was why he was left alive. Beni was seldom seen by anyone because of the death threats he received from the Quince family.

Most of the old Spanish families had been killed in the meteorite collision on Earth or the aftermath of the inpact. A few old people remained but theirs were the only two families left with a significant number of members left alive.

‘The Inter-Country Police’ as they were called had had to break up many fist-fights between the two families in the newly formed bars in the city, ‘New Worldtropolis’, situated in the Slisnian Crater.

– – –

George Papatopolous was fed up. He had been playing FIFA 99 on his X-box 1440 and had beaten ‘Worldtropolis United’ 3-2 with ‘Kraznir City’. He was 30 years old and strong. His brown hair and dark eyes were very striking and put a fearful look into most people’s faces. They imagined that his strength would mean he was a bad person. However he was the complete opposite of that. He was a nice man with a cheerful personality and had plenty of friends. One was Beni Diece Seis, possibly his best friend but he did not see it like that. All his friends were equal.

Beni had rung George up with a peculiar story about his brother Sergei getting knocked out by someone from their rival family. This, he did not care about. He knew that the rivalry between the Diece Seis family and the Quince family was great. George did not want to get involved. But the thing that had disturbed him the most was the kidnapping of Bella Diece Seis. He liked her a lot and had been told many times by Beni to go out with her. But he, George did not want to go that far. He had a special job with the MIA, Mars Intelligence Agency. He had sworn not to marry until he was fifty. By then, she would be with someone else. Beni was coming to see him about helping to find Bella. What hope was there? And besides that, he could not help. He was due to go on a mission for the MIA. He was determined to say ‘no’ to Beni. He would find it hard, but he had to do it.

1 Hour later

Beni Diece Seis opened the door. “He had changed,” thought George. There were dark lines of tiredness under his eyes. He was worried about his sister. George could tell that much.

“Hello Beni.”he said.

“Allright.”came the grumpy reply. Then he continued,

“Look, George, I need your help. Please come with me. . .”

“No, I can’t. I would if I could but I’ve got a mission coming up!” Then Beni grabbed him by the shoulders:

“I need your help, seriously, can you imagine me on my own?”

“On your own? What the heck are you on about? What about your clan? It’s not just your war!” Beni looked at him in surprise,

“You see, that’s the thing! The clan has backed out of the war. They say it’s getting too bad, what with the kidnapping of Bella. They’ve abandoned me and Bella. I don’t care about them any more. Sergei wants to help but I have forbidden it, he’s just too young.” George sighed, surprised by the the sudden outburst.

“Ok then, I’ll come, but believe me, chasing some villains to Kraznir is not gonna be easy!” There was now a look of joy on Beni’s face.

“When do we leave?”he asked.

“Tomorrow! Be here at 6.”replied George.

– – –

The train stations on Mars were built largely of red rock. However ‘New Worldtropolis Central Station’ was different. It mainly consisted of scrap metal salvaged from Earth. It was the most Earth-like thing on the whole of Mars. However, the tracks were in the air and there was only one rail along which metal capsules ran.

This was what George and Beni boarded that morning. But, right from when George had left to meet Beni, he had known something was wrong. He would suddenly turn round and see a black cloak disappear out of view or a face peering out at him from the shadows. Cities on Mars were essentially like Earth cities, including manky filthy sub-urbs. George knew he was being followed, skilfully yes, but still too obvious. He was willing to place all his money on the fact that his shadow was from the Quince family. “What had he got himself into?” he thought as he entered the station. He found Beni and quickly explained that they were being followed. Beni merely looked annoyed, not surprised, he had evidently been expecting this. What reassured both him and George was the gun concealed in their jackets in a hidden pocket. If someone tried something they would be ready.

They boarded a capsule along with several other people. They could see their adversary jostling with the crowd, in an attempt to get on. But the attendant set the capsule going and the enemy was forced to get into the second capsule. He looked furious! The speeds were set on both capsules, so there was no way of him gaining any ground on Beni and George. They were both relatively safe, until they got to Colonia, the sort of halfway point between ‘New Worldtropolis’ and ‘Kraznir’. But they had decided the previous night to scour Colonia once they arrived. They were glad they were stopping there; they would need somewhere to lose their tail. The capsule moved on and on, still no change in distance between it and the one behind. Beni was satisfied. He knew who that man was. Cherlo Quince, an easy one to lose at Colonia.

– – –


“Sir, Carlos, it’s Cherlo calling.”The kidnappers, about five of them, were in a small deserted building in Colonia with Bella. They were due to leave for Kraznir in 3 hours.

“Pass me the phone!”said Carlos. “Yes, what is it Cherlo? Let me guess, ya lost them?”

“Ah, no Carlos, I’m in the capsule behind them. We are due to arrive in Colonia in 10 minutes. Cherlo was expecting a decent bit of praise for providing this news. However, he was to be disappointed.

“Imbecile! Why didn’t you warn me sooner? We’ll have no time to get away now!”

“But I. . .”

“Shut up! When you get to the station, blast them! I don’t care if you’re arrested!” he slammed the phone down and yelled to his men,

“Grab Bella, everyone to the station, guns loaded, we may be in for a fight! That’s assuming Cherlo messes up again. . .which is more than likely.” Within a minute the house was empty and a car and a suitcase containing Bella whizzed off to the station.

– – –

Cherlo was determined to do something to make up for his earlier failure. There were only three minutes left until their arrival. Instead of passing red rocky ground, there were occasional houses all around. He drew his Meteor 60 and set it on stun. There were shocked gasps from his fellow passengers and then silence. There were all out cold. He then set his gun back to normal. He tried to heave open the heavy windows but they held fast. He swore. Then his recklessness nearly killed him. He fired several shots at the window. The first shot bounced off with no damage to the window, the second cracked the target and the third went straight through, creating an enormous gaping hole. The big problem was the first shot. It pinged around the enclosed space and luckily for him, hit one of the passengers. However, the second shot ricocheted and pounded into Cherlo’s thigh. He screamed out in pain as his femoral artery was ruptured causing him to slump back in his seat, gasping for breath. There was blood streaming down his leg. He was loosing blood fast. He was dying and he knew it. Then he passed out. Within an hour, he would be dead unless someone got him to hospital in time.

From the other capsule, Beni and George had watched the whole scene in amusement, along with their fellow passengers. Someone had called the police and all the capsules had been shut down between ‘New Worldtropolis’ and ‘Colonia’. Heli-ambulances were milling around the scene and forensic officers had determined the man responsible for the death of one of the passengers and nearly of himself. Cherlo was rushed off to hospital, although many thought he did not deserve it, especially the victim’s family. Meanwhile the other passengers were rescued and they told the ‘Inter-country Police’ all that had happened.

Incidentally though, this had been good for the Quince family after all. Carlos, his men and Bella had boarded the train to Kraznir five minutes after the train with George and Beni was scheduled to arrive. But the train line had been stopped and restarted half an hour behind time. Carlos was almost in Kraznir. “It was a lucky escape” he thought as they zoomed towards their destination. Then he laughed an evil laugh. Everything was going his and his boss’s way.

– – –

George and Beni were greatly annoyed to hear that certain members of the Quince family had got on the train to Kraznir with a large ‘suitcase’. Beni was furious at the way they were treating Bella; carrying her round in a suitcase like a useless item. He was determined to get her back. He and George were going to have a look around the whole city of Kraznir for Carlos. Kraznir was the largest city on Mars and the most ruthless and criminalised as well. It was the perfect place for the Quince family to hide someone. The moment they got off the train they would be followed and probably on camera. That was why they enlisted Sergei and another Diece Seis member to disguise themselves and make sure the real George and Beni could search in peace. They would also be disguised as no one in particular. With luck they would find Bella or the Diece Seis family would have to pay the ransom, a huge sum.

The train was too quiet for Beni’s liking. It was a normal train, one of the few left on Mars. His carriage was empty and there was a man who kept looking through the adjacent carriage door. However, they arrived at Kraznir without an unfortunate event.

As they walked into the high street the first things they saw were astounding. There were shops to each side with cars in the middle of the road. The problem was that all the cars were honking at each other and drivers were out arguing. Everywhere you looked there were pickpockets stealing, occasionally getting caught, and punched in the face by the angry victim. The shops were largely betting shops or drug shops. Beni and George had been expecting bad things, but this was shocking. There were fist-fights breaking out all over the place and dogs snarling at each other. It was the picture of the opposite of law and order.

Carlos Quince smiled as he watched George and Beni’s progress through the city. Their disguises had not fooled him. He was perfectly happy to let the doubles wander around. Pitiful attempts to conceal themselves! Bella looked horrified as she saw the trap her brother and his friends were walking into.

“You know what to do guys, don’t you?”Carlos questioned his men tentatively. The others nodded.

“When he comes into this barn,”said Carlos, “everything and everyone will be up on the balcony except Bella. She will be tied up and gagged in that corner.”

– – –

George and Beni were at a lost as to where to look until a small boy came up to them saying,

“Ahh, senore Carlos, es muy er. . .horrible!”George and Beni stopped suddenly, halted in their tracks. They looked at the boy, who was dressed in tatters and whistling noisily, and nodded to each other,

“Hey. . . er, boy, you there. . .”The boy turned to them,

“Si?”He had big round innocent eyes. The two men did not notice that he was Spanish.

“This Carlos, what is his name?” The boy replied over enthusiastically:

“Quince! He pay me lots money for his dirty work. . .no no no, to. . .day he give me dollar, pero. . .er. . .but Casa De Cuernos I go, luego, tomorrow and he pay me! Must go now! Adios!” The boy had been speaking hesitantly and with a heavy Spanish accent. He ran off, money jingling in his pocket as Beni and George headed for ‘Casa De Cuernos’. Little did they know, that within the ‘House of Horns’ was a trap.

– – –

It was now night time on Mars. Kraznir was not however, a city to be shut up for the night. Bars would be open, their light flooding the darkened streets. Few would try to sleep. Even fewer would suceed because of the noise. However the ‘Monte Carlo’ district was the only place where it was silent. Rich people would pay to live in this area, about as much money, as you would use in your whole life, to stay for only a month. But for Carlos Quince and his men, it was the perfect place for his ‘business’. He had bribed, or maybe threatened, the manager of the ‘Monte Carlo’ district and he had ‘agreed’ to let them stay for a month free of charge. No one was allowed in that district without the permission of the tenants and therefore there was less chance of being discovered by some ‘nosey-parker’.

Beni and George had to get into the district somehow. There was an electrified, ornately disguised, fence and a crash barrier with a guard box by it. Each guard had an old-fashioned rifle, but it was still a weapon and it could kill, so Beni and his friend would have to be very careful indeed. They were also aware that the guard’s gun had no stun setting. Whereas, theirs had.

They approached the guard box cautiously. They could see the guard leaning back in a chair, smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. He obviously did not expect any trouble. The wind rustled the leaves of a nearby tree causing a shiver to tingle down the two friends’ spines. There were no stars in the sky. It was a sort of eerie night. They could see houses looming up on either side as they reached the door. Beni loaded his gun, set on stun. George kicked the door open. Beowwww! The guard rocketed backwards and hit the window. It smashed and sent glass fragments flying everywhere. Silence. George and Beni stopped. Had anyone heard them? It did not seem like it.

“Stupid window!”whispered Beni to George as they lugged the heavy guard onto the floor.

“Shh, someone might. . . !”George grabbed Beni frantically.

“Not likely. . .” retorted Beni. He was surprised to hear George say in a fierce whisper,

“Listen! These are real gunmen we’re dealing with! This is not a game!”

“I know, sorry George.” came Beni’s meek reply. They moved past the barrier and walked through the blocks of houses. Finally at a corner they saw a sign:


Casa De Cuernos

It was the start of a huge complex. Once they reached the corner they could see a main house with two barns on either side.

“A farm?”queried George.

“Yeah, ‘Casa De Cuernos’ means ‘House of Horns’, it used to be a training ground for bull fighting.”came Beni’s knowledgeable reply.

There was a separate fence around the complex but it was easy to climb over as Beni and George noticed when they scaled it. There was no noise coming from the house. Surely they had not missed them? They walked up to the main house. Oddly, it was open. They stepped in. The light was on, but that did not worry the two men as that was normal in Spanish culture. It was a sort of entrance hall they were in. There was a wide flight of stairs in the centre, leading up to the first floor. The carpet was red and expensive paintings hung on the aromatic wooden panels of the wall.

George motioned to Beni to be absolutely silent. There was one room adjoining the hall. They tiptoed towards it. Beni listened intently at the door. No noise. They opened the door and found themselves in a small study. Still, no sounds could be heard from the house. There was a desk in the centre of the room. Beni read the papers which were strewn all over the desk. It was mostly bills. The walls were packed with bookshelves which in turn were full of books. There was nothing interesting in the room. Onwards they weaved, out of the study and up the stairs. There were 6 doors, none of them had windows, completely opaque. They prised open the first door. Empty. The second door. Empty. The third. Empty. All the rest were completely empty.

“Well, they must have gone!” said George rather flatly. Beni, also looking despondent moaned,

“Wasted! All that time wasted. We’ll never get Bella back!” he had expected some sympathy from George. He, however was staring wide eyed into space at nothing in particular. Beni was furious,

“Well, I suppose you don’t care!” he said angrily, knowing perfectly well that George did care. “You don’t care that. . .”

“I’ve got it!”suddenly shouted George. “The barns! Bella’s in the barns!”

“Why on Mars would she be in the barns?” asked Beni incredulously.

“Don’t you see?” Beni obviously did not, so George continued,

“The boy we met was a set up. Why else do you think this house is deserted? The barn is trap and we were so nearly fooled!”

“Ahhhhhh!”realised Beni. “We now have the element of surprise. I’m guessing we’ll just walk in the front and have guns turned on us!”

“So we’ll have to go in the back.”concluded George.

– – –

“We have to find out which barn they’ve got Bella in! And we need to see the layout of the barns. Also, I wonder if there is a back entrance?”said George Papatopolous.

“Agreed!”replied Beni Diece Seis.

They walked up to the first barn door, guns drawn. Ears to the wood, they listened! Nothing. They kicked at the door. Crack!. And again. It swung open as a wooden bolt clattered to the floor. The outside of the other barn was the same as this one, so they assumed the inside would be too. There was a balcony above an open straw covered floor and that was it. No machinery, no nothing. They walked up the flight of stairs leading to the balcony. Nothing there either, apart from a small back door.

“Bingo!” exclaimed Beni. “Our way in. We’ll surprise them and Bella will be ours!” He looked overjoyed at that thought.

Carlos was restless. He and his boss Rodriguez had been waiting for Beni and George to arrive. They had watched them explore the other barn. They had taken longer than expected. But finally they were coming. And then they disappeared from view.

“Where are they, Carlos!”said Rodriguez, impatiently.

“I think they’ve gone round the back. . .!” Suddenly realisation hit Rodriguez like a mallet.

“Quick, they must have found the back door!”yelled Rodriquez pulling out his gun. Crash! The back door smashed open. Shots rang out all around them as several of the Quince family were shot dead. However, the battle was far from over. Rodriquez’ men dived for cover and returned fire. Beni was hit in the leg and passed out. George fired at a beam above them all sending a huge chunk of wood flying at Carlos’ head. Carlos jumped to the side but to no avail. There was a ominous cracking sound as his neck snapped. Rodriquez winced at this and fired more vehemently at George. It was heading for a sort of stalemate when there was a shout from Rodriguez’ only companion left standing:

“Stop this! I’ve had enough. Already my two brothers are dead!” Rodriguez looked astonished at this and then turned to shoot his man. But his companion was too quick, setting his gun to stun, he shot Rodriguez in the head and then threw his gun to the floor. George seeing it was safe to come out, walked out from behind his cover and said,

“I think we have an ambulance to call!” Then looking at Bella he said, “Beni will have some good news when he comes round!”

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Posted by on February 5, 2012 in Action


The Jedi Revival

500 years on from Star Wars Episode 6

“Jank, go on, slash him low!” came the voice of the instructor Obi-wan-Ufrani.  Rel-is-janko was the most skilled Jedi in the whole of the Jedi temple, except today he was tired.  He had been fighting since two in the morning with his rival and hated enemy Rau-kin-kautox.  They were using practice swords instead of the standard Jedi lightsabre.  But they still were surging with electricity and packed quite a punch.  Janko had just turned beautifully in mid-air and was about to perform an,in reality, killing blow.  However Kautox was one step ahead and with a quick satisfying jab had stunned the surprised Janko.  He was about to viciously finish him off when Ufrani shrieked in alarm for him to stop.  Unfortunately, it was too late.  Janko was caught head on and went flying back with the electric charges pulsing through him.  For a moment the room was silent as other padawans turned and looked along with their masters.  Zuewwww.  Janko was back up, but this time with his real lightsabre drawn.  He charged towards his rival who hurriedly discarded his practice lightsabre and donned his double lightsabre menacingly.  Obi-wan shouted,

“No, stop!” but to no avail.  The lightsabres clashed, Janko, his anger spurring him to fight his hardest, despite the exhaustion he felt, cut, blocked and attacked every part of Kautox’s body.  Kautox defended well but he was no match for Janko.  Some of the surrounding Jedi tried to intervene but were called off by the sound of Ookini-kur-sunka saying,

“No, it’s too dangerous, we must let them fight!”

This is just something I wrote when I was bored, it isn’t meant to be brilliant.  But feedback would still be appreciated, however, I don’t know whether I’ll continue it.  Hope you enjoy it.

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Posted by on January 6, 2012 in Action


Tags: , , , , ,

Colonel Gaddafi

Please note, this is a rap and could probably only sound good if I read it out to you but I thought I’d put it up anyway 🙂

A guy called Gaddafi

was walking down a street

wondrin’ ‘oo he’d meet

then a shot rang out.

he dived for cover

screamed for ‘is mother

and shouted out, “oh, oh, oh, oh brother!”

Ya see. . . Gaddafi was a tyrant,

his Mum was a pirate,

tha’s why he need a big bodyguard,

An attack every day,

was what ‘e was used to,

but t’day was different

he was hit, hit, hit, hit dead.

They called for the medics

and rushed, ‘im to hospital

the whole world rejoice,

as Gaddafi was dead,

lying in ‘is bed

in ‘is ome, ome, ome, ome stead.

But a strange thing happened,

Gaddafi weren’t dead

So ‘e got outta bed,

and killed all ‘oo ‘ated ‘im.

Nato ‘erd

an came to find ‘im

They came for Gaddafi

but ‘e was hiding in a, a , a, a pipe.

But then they found ‘im

he weren’t very ‘appy

they treated him like. . . a baby in a nappy,

an’ dat was de end of Colonel Gaddafi

they shot ‘im through de head,

made sure ‘e was dead,

and left ‘im in a pile, rotting in ‘is bed.


Posted by on October 22, 2011 in Action


The Hidden Reich

Note: As this has been copied and pasted from my word processor, some under-linings and bolds are missing:)


The woman crept down the streets of Manchester. She was in the district of Droylsden. It was a year after the Second World War. Mist hung in the air like children watching a Heinkel fly overhead. The houses either side of her were bombed down, leaving a pile of rubble in its place. Charred ash was scattered across the road. It crunched underfoot, a constant reminder of the fires which had burned the streets of Britain for many a month. Finally she reached the door. Pulling her shawl around her head she knocked tentatively. No answer. She knocked again, louder this time, her cloak blowing in the chilling breeze. The door opened. A woman with cold green eyes stood there. She beckoned mysteriously for her to come in. They were inside in a dusty passage leading to the door. It opened and they went inside. From the corner of the room came a voice,

“Good evening Mrs Flitch, how is the baby?”

“Very good, but my stomach hurts, he is coming out today, you here me!”

“Of course, Mrs Flitch. If you will lie there, I will try and get your baby out.”

“Thank you.”Mrs Flitch lay on the bed in the centre of the room, the eagle eyes of the door-woman watching her intensively. A minute later the crying began, the doctor trying to sooth her,

“It’s all right, Mrs Flitch, he’ll come!”

“But will I?”was the pained reply.

“Of course you’ll pull through, you and your baby will be alive in an hour!”assured the doctor.

The pain got worse for Mrs Flitch.

“It’s coming, arise out glorious leader’s grandson.”exclaimed the doctor. Mrs Flitch was in excruciating pain, writhing in agony on the bed. Then the baby was out. Mrs Flitch was dying, it was clear to all in the room. The doctor whispered to her,

“Name him, quickly!” And Mrs Flitch breathing her last breath said,

“Hans.” The doctor cared nothing for Mrs Flitch now, at last a new Reich would arise one day.

– – –

It was 2034. Hans Flitch was 88 years.

“We have to plan it for 2074, and by then I’ll be long gone!” he said to the doctor, a different doctor now.

“My Lord, I have found a way to postpone your death.”replied the doctor.

“Do not fool me with such twaddle doctor, my faith in you is severely diminished after the experiment with the parrots!”said Flitch angrily.

“But, My Lord, I have researched this extensively and even conducted experiments on myself with it. My Lord, if you’ll allow me,”he pointed to the door as a figure entered, “My clone!”

“This is certainly remarkable, but are you suggesting that I clone myself, I would very much like to witness the rise of the Fourth Reich. Surely I would forget everything if I was cloned?”protested Flitch.

“My Lord, it would be effectively be giving you a new body, I have found a way to transplant your brain into the new body, as well as your important organs. The rest of your body would take time to develop to normal. The process would take at least three years, but you would be able to think normally and remember all your previous body’s doings. My Lord, this is your only hope of being around when the Fourth Reich rises in 2074.”said the doctor.

“What would happen to my old body, doctor?”asked Flitch

“Err, destroyed or buried. . .your choice!”said the doctor nervously.

“How. . .delightful. When does the process start?”said Flitch.

“A week!”replied the doctor, “Maybe two, anyway, how about a demo from my clone here. Obviously it hasn’t had my brain put in it, because, I prefer my old body. It think like any normal human, it will give you an idea of the sucess of the experiment!” Flitch nodded thoughtfully and then suddenly in one quick movement punched the clone. The clone started bleeding and swung back, Flitch ducked,

“Hmm, very realistic!”he said as the clone started swearing at him. He brought out his pistol.

“Now the real test!”said Flitch. Bang bang. The bullets went through where the heart was. Blood spilled out and the clone was no more.

“Huh, I got that heart from one of the clones!”complained the doctor, “But still, it has proved that there will be no danger involves for you. When shall we start the operation?”

“Now! Have it done for Miroslav Himmler to and all the leaders of each 4th Reich Cell. In three years time doctor, I expect to be a lot younger and have my memories about me. If not, well, Miroslav Himmler will kill you first.”

– – –

3 years later, Hans Flitch got up as a 20 year old man. He smiled and looked in the mirror. Perfect. A younger Miroslav Himmler walked up behind him. The doctor looked pleased.

“Allright?”he said.

“Oh yes, 3 years out of action hasn’t been good”replied Flitch, “But it seems to have worked. I feel fresh. Anyway, what’s been happening while I’ve been. . .away?”

The Hidden Reich

By Harry Legg

Part 1:Hitler Grandson

Chapter 1:The Battle For The Airforce Memorial

The memorial near Englefield Green had the appearance of a tranquil temple. At least it did until Hitler’s grandson Hans Flitch gathered a terrorist force in Britain. Now, it’s normally beautiful lawn was covered in barbed wire and sandbags protected the base of the building. The memorial had a ground floor with walls of white stone and a courtyard inside with pillars at the edge partly obscuring the names of countless allied air force members who had been killed in action and had no known grave. Then upwards to the north still adjoined to the courtyard was a higher sort of keep with a brilliant view of London. Twenty years ago the planes constantly flew over, taking passengers to and fro. Tall buildings had punched the sky. The island where the Magna Carta was signed could be seen clearly in the foreground. Things had changed. Half of London lay flat on the ground as the result of North Korean bombers. Heathrow airport was nearly completely gone after continued terrorist attacks. The Magna Carta was completely forgotten and the Nazis had control of half of Britain, or at least what was left of it.

The year was 2074.

The world was in turmoil. China and Russia had completely flattened each other’s countries with nuclear bombs. Japan had been hit by a wave of radiation and so had North Korea, but it didn’t matter much for them as they just invaded South Korea and avoided the sickness while making war on Britain. The middle east had been overrun by Al-Qaeda. America were about to intervene when they were suddenly swamped by two huge tidal waves. Canada saw that America were weak and decided to attack causing a huge war. Half of Africa died of starvation because their trade routes dried up leaving lands up for grabs as European countries charged in to create another pointless struggle. Recently the British Prime Minister had been killed in bombings and had been replaced by a completely incompetent man who just made things a whole lot worse. The Airforce memorial was being heavily guarded by SAS men who were trying to prevent the Nazis getting revenge. Every man stationed there was wondering what was happening elsewhere but their attention was all directed towards protecting the memorial from a terrorist attack.

Suddenly a radio crackled into life in the squad commander’s hand who had been posted at the memorial. A rather unfortunate job! He spoke sharply into it.

“Yes?” A distorted voice and gunshots in the background could be heard,

“Nazis, advancing through the village. . . up road, I being chased. . . AHHHH. . .”More gunshots closer this time. Then the radio went dead. The commander immediately knew what had happened. He pressed a button on his radio,

“Corporal Jones, take A squad to the front gate. Sergeant Jensen, load the Ak48s and watch from the keep. Sergeant Riley, take defensive positions in the garden. I’ll take my lot and blockade the door. The memorial must survive, you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”came three battle hardened voices through the radio.

Hans Flitch and his men carried sub machine guns loaded with 15 calibre bullets. They wore bullet-proof vests and a pistol hung at their sides. Flitch breathed in through his nose. Ahhh. The scent of blood wafted through his nostrils. At last. Hitler would have revenge and through his grandson. Few people knew Hitler had a grandson at the end of the second world war and they were all dead. Now everyone knew. Hans Flitch had control of half of Britain and he himself would take out the last memory of the allied victors. Banbury memorial was a heap of smoking wreckage. Tower Hill memorial had been bombed to the ground along with many others. But this time Hans Flitch had decided to lead the attack himself. And this time they were going to do it the old style way, a nice raid with a good gun-fight and memories to last Flitch a life time. He himself was going to shoot the unfortunate leader of the petty resistance. He was going to make sure every single bullet in his sub machine gun was spent. At last Britain’s era of idiotic anti-nazi prime ministers would come to an end. Hans Flitch should have been worried by the other wars in the world. But he wasn’t. Ever since World War 2 a fourth Reich had been built underground. It was about to burst out of hiding places. In Russia, Europe, even Australia and America, millions of hiding Nazis would swarm out and wipe out the memories of Winston Churchill, of Roosevelt, of Eisenhower and of De Gaulle. The world would be too busy killing each other to notice the rise of the Fourth Reich. For years and years underground in tunnels deep below the surface of the Earth an army was waiting to kill and the time was near, very near, very very near.

Flitch and his men drew near the gates of the memorial. Suddenly gun shots rang out. Around him his men began to fall.

“Withdraw!”he bellowed. The Nazis returning fire all the way ran to the trees on the far side of the road. Five of his me had died. He would have to plan his next move more carefully. He signalled to a man near him who had an AK47 slung over his back. An old make. But it would do.

“Fire!”he yelled. Fworrrrrk. Kaboom. Stone went flying everywhere. Shouting British voices could be heard from within the walls. Gun fire. The Nazis swarmed forward, guns blazing. Two of his men stormed through the gate killing half a dozen unaware SAS men. Flitch and his main body advanced to the gate only to discover that his advance party had been blown to smithereens by AK48 fire. Flitch raised his gun and fired several shots at a bush near by. A man fell sideways into view, blood seeping through his forehead.

The commander was worried. Already the Nazis had control of the garden and were destroying the memorials front end with constant heavy fire. Air Force men’s names were wiped out to be forgotten forever. Suddenly the commander watched Flitch’s men retreat apparently with Flitch but little did they know that some had stayed. Flitch and some Nazis lay unseen in a bush watching their comrades disappear through the gate. The commander had thought the Nazis were winning but as far as he was concerned the Nazis had now given up for no apparent reason. A party ensued as they assumed they had beaten the Nazis away to live another day. Flitch smiled happily. The trap was sprung. He and his 3 hand picked men sneaked in side. Bottles of wine lay around them, smashed and drunk soldiers were tottering around. One said,

“Hic, eh, ters t’ nazi!”

“Nonshunse!”his friend replied. Hans Flitch and his men mowed them down viciously. Up in the keep the commander, one of the few who wasn’t drunk and didn’t ignore the gun shots peered over the balcony. They had been tricked he realised. Hans and his men were gone but in their place were three bombs. The commander gasped. And that was the last thing he did. Boooooooom!!!!! A fireball flashed into the air. Outside the memorial Hans Flitch and his men watched the explosion gleefully. Next was control of the rubble which was London. Then he would awaken the Fourth Reich in Britain and Russia. The rest he would save as a surprise for later. The British part of the Reich he needed to suppress any rebellions and the Russian part to take out the Korean bombers who as far as he was concerned were a bunch of idiots playing games with bombs. They played no part in his plan whatsoever.

Chapter 2: Defective Agent

The Fourth Reich Cell 6-Russia

Rudolf Schneider was a secretive man.  In 2045 he had joined the 4th Reich in Russia aged 17.  Since then he had risen to second in command of the Russian Reich.  In 2049 he had witnessed a brutal murder by his superior.  Ingrid Auzen was the Czech ambassador to Russia until Miroslav Himmler the head of a terrorist movement in the same country polished him off.  Many believed Himmler was the leader of the Russian Mafiya except they overlooked the fact that he was German.  They also didn’t notice that his family tree clearly indicated that he was the grandson of Heinrich Himmler the notorious head of the dreaded SS in the time of the second world war.  Miroslav Himmler was in fact the leader of the Fourth Reich in Russia.  No one knew.  That was how secret the Reich was.  One man had been most unfortunate to cross paths with Himmler.  And that person was Ingrid Auzen.  Schneider had been assistant boy to him, carrying his weapons when he saw the murder.  That was when he started looking for a way to alert the whole world.  It had taken him time but he had found a way.  He was going to put it into action that very night.

Miroslav Himmler sat in his office deep in thought.  He had a metal desk loaded with papers in German, emails from Hans Flitch on how the British Conquest was shaping.  He had two things on his mind.  The first was how he would conquer North Korea.  Recently he had been told to surge out of the tunnels which had been his and a hundred thousand Nazis’ home.  He was to do it tomorrow.  The 23rd August.  The problem was that Russia and China had nuked each other.  Fortunately as they were in the part of Russia which stretched down the side of China they had not been affected by the original bombs but the radiation was a major problem.  They had sealed the metal door which led up to the surface through a disused quarry.  But one step outside and his men would all die.  That was why he had started the tunnel.  It would take at least two days to reach South Korea where the North Koreans were.  He was meant to emerge tomorrow.  Flitch would be furious with him but he did not care too much about this.  He cared mostly about the news that there was a spy in his network.  But he believed different.  It cannot be a spy he had told himself because No one could get in without being checked and double checked.  No.  It must be a man trying to defect with enough information to alert the world to the Hidden Reich.  There was only one way out.  Through the tunnel to South Korea.  There the spy could get a ship to Australia.  It would be hard for the spy.  But once the Nazis had conquered the Koreans he could easily escape.

Chapter 3: The Intercontinental Reich

ASIS (Australian Secret Intelligence Service) HQ Sydney

Karl Johnson and his colleagues were fed up with the world.  They knew that soon someone would try to damage Australia.  Karl was the head of ASIS the secret service which dedicated all its time to protecting Australia.  Ever since the Nazis has risen in Britain he had been working on trying to figure out where other Nazis may rise up.  And then Russia and China destroyed each other for no apparent reason.  America were invaded and were hit by tidal waves and Europe started an inter continent war in Africa.  His investigations had ceased as he had attempted to check on local terrorists to see if they were inactive.  they hadn’t moved an inch.  The real reason however was that the Hidden Reich in Australia had wiped them out with spies.  Johnson slumped back in his chair exhausted.  He was trying to make head and tail of a radio message he had received from somewhere in Russia.  He played it back to himself.

“Am in Hidden Reich in Russia . . . about to make movement . . .wipe out Korea.  i must escape when . . .arrive. . .must get to Australia. . . beware hidden reich. . .bang bang!”  there had been two gun shots and then the message had ended.  They had no idea who it was from whatsoever.  As far as Johnson could tell, there was a hidden Fourth Reich everywhere including in Australia.  But he could not believe that.  People would laugh at him if he even suggested such a thing.  The Prime Minister already had a bad enough view of him enough!  The caller must have been discovered while radioing the message.  Johnson had agents now posted all over the country looking for signs of a hidden Reich.  So far nothing had been spotted.  he had decided to conduct quiet investigations.

The man who was killed in the radio recording was indeed Rudolf Schneider.  He had decided to risk a radio message to Australia.  He had got through and was just about to say Miroslav Himmler’s name was he was shot in the head twice by the very same evil man.  Himmler had smiled.  Task one complete!  He was a bit surprised by the spy’s identity.  he had expected to find a nobody.  But still, who cares. . .

_ _ _

Karl Johnson stared at the screen.  On it a map of Australia shone out at him.  he was about to go to a barbecue with his wife when he noticed a bleeping on the screen.  A radio message from Queensland.  Ah he thought, Agent 09 is calling.  he sighed.  Back news evidently.  The voice came through clearly with faint gun shots in the back ground.

“Sir quick the Nazis have emerged from an underground hideout.  They are gunning everyone down.  Brisbane had fallen.  the army are fighting back but there must be at least a million Nazis.  Sir I must go, m life is in danger!” The sound of a car engine could be heard and then nothing.  Johnson flicked a switch on his desk.

“Crawtold, the army must get fully involved, this is not a little party, this is war, get a move on.!”

“Yes Sir!”came the stout reply.  His source in Russia was right.  A hidden Reich.  He must alert America and Britain.

10 Downing Street

“Message from Runneymede sir.!”  A man in suit and tie hurried in.  “It’s bad!” he said.  The message enclosed details of the Airforce Memorial raid.  The news was inevitable but it still shocked him.  In the last twenty years the world had turned upside down.  Australia had just embarked on a huge war with the Nazis but already Brisbane had fallen.  The cricket ground there lay in ruins.  Gladstone had been bombed.  The Nazis had planned and planned for years.  Now it had happened.  And already they had control of three quarters of Britain and parts of Australia.  News was flooding in how Nazis had emerged in South Korea from a tunnel.  On the good side, America and Canada had stuck on a ceasefire and were preparing to fight any Nazis which came in their country.  The one country that could fight the Nazis didn’t have any to fight.

Shane Tedders fired a burst at the Germany flooding out of Gladstone.  Satisfied he observed four Nazis clutch various parts of their bodies and fall down.  Next to him a tank blasted a hole in the Nazi wave but it was just filled by others.  The efforts were futile.  An old fashioned bazooka ricocheted through the trees where the Australians were hiding killing dozens.  Suddenly Shane had an idea.  On the left of the Nazi advance stood a Water Bank where the citizens of Gladstone would receive their water from.  He called a couple of me and signalled to them to throw their grenades at the Water Bank.  One of them missed the target and exploded killing a Nazi, another went straight over doing no damage whatsoever.  But Shane and two others hit the target and all the Nazis turned and look.  At the distraction the Australians rained bullets down on the Nazis.  Then the water suddenly fell sideways like a tidal wave.   It engulfed the German army killing hundreds in the stampede that followed.  Then water broke the barricade that the Germans had set up.  It flooded through the gates and wipe out the entire army of Nazis apart from about 30 who turned and fled weapon less.  The Australians chased them down and killed them all and a huge cheer rose up from the soldiers.  The tide had turned, literally, the Nazis in Australia were no more.  Celebrations were sparked all over the country and Karl Johnson sat back in his chair.  He sighed.  But deep down he knew the Nazis still had a strong grip on the world.  The man who had thought of blowing up the Water Bank deserves a medal he thought.  Yes, but after that he said to himself reluctantly, it was time to call Al-Qaeda.

Chapter 4: The Bomb Maniac

Al Qaeda HQ Pakistan

Kunan Bin Izra was wanted in 28 different countries for terrorism.  He had a habit of killing colleagues when they did something wrong.  But the same could be said for when they do something right.  If Kunan saw the slightest threat from anyone he would immediately kill them and their families.  That would be the end of it.  Recently the world had got a whole lot better for him.  He had control of all the Middle East except Kazakhstan which he considered not worth anything as anyone who stepped in their got a blast of radiation.  He didn’t care about the Nazi uprising seeing as they didn’t have any nuclear bombs.  He only cared about what the Americans might do when the turmoil was over.  If it ever ended.  They might be a little bit angry about their president being assassinated in three days time.  So he decided not to admit it.  If anything it would keep the Americans busy with finding who did it.  Inevitably the conclusion would be drawn from the fact that some fake Nazis were going to be seen running from the scene.  His men never minded dying if they were caught.  Why, because if they were not caught they would be killed when they got back to the Middle East or particularly Pakistan where Kunan’s HQ was.  Life was good for him.  Only one thing bothered him.  The Australians had contacted him asking him to use their secret weapon.  The secret weapon of Al Qaeda was a bomb known as Cyclops.  It was unstoppable.  Strictly speaking it was not a bomb, but he killed it one anyway because he adored bombs.  He was a bomb maniac.  Once it had been rumoured that he had blown up an ants nest with a mine by sending an annoying cocky junior terrorist to step on it.  And then the person who spread the rumour was killed with a nano bomb.  A quite ingenious invention which he had tested on this very same man.  It sort of blew up a lung.  Not nice.  No, not nice at all.  Back to the subject of Cyclops.  How had the Australians even known.  Kunan wrote something on a strip of paper.  “Execute all personal working on the Cyclops Project”  Satisfied he called his messenger to deliver the death sentence.  Unfortunately for the messenger he was too slow and was told to take the message and be executed himself as well.  Cyclops was a ball of plasma which he could launch at any point in the world.  Then it would expand until his target surrendered as every living thing inside the plasma ball died.  Unfortunately it was not reusable.  How technology had changed since 2012 when he became part of Al Qaeda.  Once upon a time in 2066 the Americans had possessed a Cyclops.  Kunan had planted a spy in the centre where it was being produced and the spy set it off, killing over a thousand people including himself until some hero guy found a way to stop it.  The spy’s fate was like many other before him.  Kunan did not like to include how likely death was in the job description.  if they refused, he killed them.  So either way they died.  And another thing, hero guys were beginning to get on his nerves.  He killed that one too.  Such was the pleasure of life.  But would he bomb Northern England where the Nazis were?  He would think about it.  But then, no one contacted Kunan Bin Izra as an equal.  Maybe he would Cyclops Britain-the whole of it- then he would bomb Australia with normal bombs.  Happy medium.

Chapter 5: Red Alert

32 Melbourne Road Sydney

Shane Tedders was in a bad mood.  He had just received a medal for his brain display on the battlefield.  But he had been promoted in a special way.  He was now working under Karl Johnson.  The next day Tedders was to be sent to Britain by parachute to place the second part of the Cyclops bomb in Northern Britain.  Unfortunately there had to be the second part for the bomb to work as I sort of aiming device and so Tedders had been given the dangerous job.  When he landed from the parachute jump-assuming he was not seen-he would steal a Nazis uniform and plant the second half of the bomb.  Then he would have to get out somehow.  They had not told him how.  But he would figure out a way.  Al Qaeda had grudgingly agreed to activate the Cyclops bomb as the Nazis were a slight threat to them.

Over the North Sea

The Hawker Hardra 74 was the latest stealth plane make.  It was silent and it blended perfectly with the storm that was raging above the clouds of the North Sea.  Wind battered at the metal side of the plane.  Lightning slashed down below them.  They could see the rain pouring beneath them.  They were above the storm.  Then suddenly they dived downwards.  This was the signal for Shane Tedders to open the parachute door.  He had to cling on to the bar above the gaping hole into space to stop himself being sucked through too soon.  Then a red light flashed by his side.  Five seconds to jump.  Orange light.  Three seconds.  Green light.  go.  Tedders flung himself out into the freezing night air.  He had to force himself to count to ten before opening his parachute or it might catch on the plane.  Tedders could see nothing.  A thunderclap.  He opened his parachute and suddenly he was thrust upwards.  Then he came steadily down, down, down. . .

Suddenly a huge flash of lightning lit up the dense clouds!  He looked up.  And to his horror his parachute had caught fire.  Suddenly he was falling faster.  He fumbled around wildly with his hands.  Ach.  How could he slow himself down?

There was nothing he could do.  He let himself fall towards a grey surface looming up in front of him.  OOF!  He hit the ground.  He was dead.

2 Hours later

Shane opened his eyes.  Where was he?  He was not dead.  Great.  The first thing that came into his view was a yellow sign saying in German:

“Achtung, hochspannung”  which means quite simply, “attention, high voltage”.  Tedders looked around.  He could see grey walls all around him.  And then. . .  a metal reactor.  Uh oh.  Quickly he manoeuvred himself towards the wall.  Then he stopped.  Voices were only just audible on the other side of the wall.  This made his task even harder.  He had to get over the wall and almost silently at that!  For the moment however, he was safe.  As safe as you can be next to a high voltage reactor.  He used his backpack as a headrest.  Then he remembered, that inside his backpack was a map.  Quickly he located himself and stood up cautiously knowing that there were people just behind the wall.  Then it hit him!  How on earth was he meant to get up the wall, especially without making any noise?  If he jumped his fingertips might just hook themselves on the wall.  He jumped and his fingers caught the top of the wall.  he winced with the pain.  His muscles wanted to pop out of their sockets.  his legs searched franticly for footing!  There were none!  He heaved and the chest was over the wall.  he could now see to smartly dressed German soldiers talking loudly.  Trying to be as silent as possible he got his knees onto the wall.  He had done it.  Then in his excitement he slipped and slapped his hands on the wall.  The soldiers swung round.  “Feuer?”asked one.  “Nien!” the other replied aiming his sub-machine at Tedders.  He, however thought differently.  He swung his left leg into one of the guards neck and heard a familiar breaking sound and the other knocked the gun away from the conscious Nazi.  The Nazi reached for his brown leather holster as Tedders jumped off the wall and kicked him where it hurts, following up with a knee in the face.  The man was out cold!

Tedders looked around.  The reactors walls were behind him.  Then, all he could see was rows upon rows of army barracks.  He wondered how many soldiers wasted their lives in their.  He hated the Nazis.  They had destroyed countries and killed thousands, and if planting a bomb would get rid of them, then he would do it.  Even if Al-Qaeda were involved.  According to his map, if he walked down the path between the barracks, he would see the main complex of this Nazi camp.  But that would mean getting through the barracks without being seen.  He quickly sprinted to the nearest wall and listened intently for noises inside.  He estimated that each building contained four Nazis.  This meant that he had to do it quickly and get out, though how he didn’t know.  He could hear two men talking inside.  He moved on cautiously levelling his sub-machine gun that he had taken from the Nazi at the door.  He was about ten buildings through when one of the doors further down opened.  He darted into cover and listened as one said,

“. . .Yes, I heard they found Arnold and Franz out cold by the reactor, they are considering raising a full scale alarm!”  This was said in German but Tedders knew little enough to get the general idea.  He was now being searched for.  The men walked away and disappeared from view.  He carried on his systematic walk, checking that no-one was about to come out of a building before passing on.  Then he heard a shout,

“Achtung!”  He turned round to see a Nazi ponting at him about 60 metres away.  A bullet whined over his head sending concrete fragments everywhere.  Tedders darted in between two buildings and ran as fast as he could.  He distinctively could hear boots on the rough ground maybe only 30 metres away.  Wow, they’re fast.  Onwards he went until he found an empty building.  There were four bunks and he rolled under one.  Footsteps grew closer and then slowly further away.  Tedders held his breath, his heart pumping wildly.  Surely they could hear it.  but no, the danger had passed.  He was safe for now.  He pulled out his map and consulted it carefully.  The target building was nearer than he had expected.  It should be just round the next corner.  He was just about to get up and go when he heard casual voices in German at the door.

“We have to get our guns and join the search, apparently he was seen around here. . .”  the door opened and four Nazis hurried in.  Tedders squeezed into the far corner of the bed, praying that they would not see him.  They all grabbed their guns except one who said,

“Achtung!”  It appeared that he had lost his gun.  “Ug, I remember,”he said, also in German, “My gun is gone, it must be under my bed..”Tedders heart stopped, he lay perfectly still wishing the ground would swallow him up.

“Ah don’t worry,” replied one,” it’s here,”he handed the searcher his gun.  Tedders’ heart started beating again.  Phew.  All of the Nazis left.

Chapter 6: Fooled Them

“They have stopped the general alarm, the target seems to have got away!”

“Good!” came the reply. (Note )German language sometimes spoken.

The door opened and the men were gone.  Hans Flitch paced nervously around his room.  The two senior Nazis he had just spoken to obviously were very power-hungry.  He thought he was lucky to escape alive from the meeting.  Maybe his fears were misplaced.  However, the danger seemed to have passed.  All the same, he reckoned he had better keep an eye on things.  At least the alert in the North Base (his one of four main bases) had ended.  He was in the West Base and worried about the situation.  They didn’t exactly have proof of how the man had got in, but then again they had know idea how he got out either.  Von Schlitcht seemed pretty certain but Colonel Hans-Marsh was looking unsure.  Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.  Bingo!  He had it.  At each of his four bases were heat sensors.  They could be set to count the number of people in a specific area.  He picked up a security line phone which got him through to each base in no more than 10 seconds.  He dialled a single digit: 4!  This got him the radio control of the North Base.  A voice crackled through back to him.

“North Base, radio here, please state rank and purpose!”  Hans Flitch impatiently replied,

“Commander and Supreme Nazi, Fuhrer of the Fourth Reich, now get my your Commander and on the double.”

He heard a garbled frightened reply,

“Yes sir, right away!”  Twenty or so seconds later he could hear the voice of the North Base Commander,

“Sir?”  Flitch hurriedly explained,

“I have a feeling the intruder is still in your base, search immediately with high intensity heat sensors. . .”

“But sir, we have searched the whole. . .”

“DO IT!”  Hans yelled into the phone.

“Yes sir!” came the scared stammered reply.  Flitch slammed the phone down.  If the intruder was still around it meant danger and he suspected that this danger may force him to surrender, depending on what it was.  It was imperative that the business was cleared up once and for all.

Ten minuted later a voice came through,

“Sir, we have counted the number of people in the North Base.  It seems that there are one too many people there!   We have also located the target, heading towards the North gate”there was panic in the man’s voice.

“Find and destroy, repeat, ‘find and destroy’, if he is left alive I will skin you alive, the whole mangy lot of you. . .!”Flitch replied.  The radio conversation ended.  Doubts flooded into his mind, what was the intruder doing, did he need him alive, had he made a mistake of ordering his termination.  And what if the man had completed his objectives?

Chapter 7: Back To Haunt You

– – –

Tedders knew he had been discovered for the second time, how he did not know, but we he did know was simple.  Run.  he had planted the first half of the bomb and was now seeking a way out.  From sneaking around he had noticed an armoured jeep near a gate at the North of the base.  He headed for there as quickly as possible, his gun out in front of him.  Suddenly a man came around the corner.  Pangatactatac.  He wasn’t taking chances.  He as a person, hated killing, but he had done it so many times.  The man fell dead at his feet and he carried on sprinting in the same direction.  He swung round the corner, and there it was.  In front of him was a big open concrete space with four armoured vehicles in the centre.  However, his troubles were not over.  Two guards turned and started shooting at him as he dived for cover behind a Jeep.  He noticed that this vehicle had a small machine-gun fixed to the door.  He reckoned he could fire and drive.  But how could he get in, without being shot.  Then suddenly, his trouble doubled as four or so Nazis appeared behind him and took aim.  He had just enough time to squeeze under the car, before the ground where he had just been, was eaten up by bullets.  Tedders was now being shot at from two directions.  Sparks fizzed around him.  Slowly and steadily, he poked the sub-machine gun’s nozzle out from under the car and pulled the trigger and held it down.  Two screams met his ears and he observed two Nazis diving for cover, leaving a couple of dead bodies behind them.  Tedders rolled out from under the car and keeping his head down, vaulted into the jeep.  The seconds that it took for the Nazis who had escaped his fire to take aim, were enough to enable him to swivel the machine-gun turret.  He blasted rounds and rounds at the men on either side.  And they fell all around him.  He screamed with joy as he revved the engine sending it gathering pace as it neared the gate.  It was a flimsy gate but he knew it would take some power to smash it.  He reached maximum speed and felt his hair blow into the face.  Wind rushed around as Nazis watched either injured or just stunned by what was taking place.  He crunched through the gate.  HE WAS ALIVE!  On he drove, out onto a road which led to the coast.  He was free.  But behind him, three Jeeps came, faster, faster, faster and bullets rang out. They pinged against the bodywork of the vehicle, completely harmless. Tedders looked around, he grabbed a grenade and pulled the pin out. He lobbed it behind him. BOOM. Two of his pursuers went up in smoke. And to put the cherry on top, the other enemy crashed into the wreckage of his comrades and the whole scenario ended in a big ball of flames. Tedders observed this through his wing mirror. He smiled. But Karl Johnson would never get to congratulate him. Tedders had had enough of battles, he was going to join his friends at the in the incredibly top secret COLON-X group. He had been linked to this group. It was a mixture of Countries Secret Service, defectors or people who wanted the world to return to normal. As far as the ASIS were concerned, he had completed his mission but had died in doing so. The Nazis were going to get justice.

– – –

“A shame!”said Karl Johnson.  “That Tedders chap was a valuable man! Assuming he’s dead. We observed a wreckage of three armoured vehicles. He is dead unfortunately. But still, at least he did his job!”  He was talking to his second in command,  Mitchell Henry.

“Shall I contact Al-Qaeda now sir?”he asked.

“Yes, it is time for Shane Tedders to be avenged.  Also, send a message to the North Base of those dirty, flea-ridden Nazis and tell them to surrender or they will all be annihilated.”

Chapter 8: The Unstoppable Cyclops

– – –

Kunan Bin Izra pressed the red button on his desk.  He then spoke calmly into a microphone which slid into view,

“Activate Cyclops 1 and prepare Cyclops 2 for action.  If we do not get the money from the Aussies we must destroy their nation.  I think it is safe to say we will get out money.”  the voice on the other end of the phone confirmed the activation of Cyclops 1 and the preparation of Cyclops 2.  Bin Izra slumped back in his chair.  Finally, some action and the wiping out of the Nazis.  They had, at first, not been a threat, but they had started to irritate him when one of agents in Britain was killed.  he knew he was the most powerful man in the world.  He just had not started to show it yet.  But he was about to.  In fact, right then, in the North Base, twenty men had died already.

– – –

Franz Zelt heard an odd beeping sound outside.  It had started about ten seconds ago and now a strange bubble was expanding towards him.  He backed off.  The rest of the men in the control centre he was in, pushed their chairs away and rushed to the exit.  They were assuming the worst.  They called to him, but he stood firm as the bubble drew closer, larger.  Suddenly, a rat ran out from under a table, into the bubble!  It was dead, instantly.  Zelt realised what it was.  But it was too late.  He was wedged between a table and the bubble.  The bubble lurched through his body.  His heart stopped beating suddenly, and he was dead.  He felt onto the table and rolled over while the bubble moved over the rest of the building.  But he had landed on the RED ALERT button.  A loud whooping sound filled the whole North Base.  The Commander, who had been having a cup of tea and a slice of Sauerkraut, sloshed the drink down his front.  A red alert.  The highest alert, only used for critical situations.  Suddenly he heard a commotion outside.  He got up and pulled out his pistol.  He heard voices,

“Commander, there is some bubble, killing everyone!”  the door swung open.  The Commander reacted with ridicule,

“What kind of cock and bull story is this?  Some bubble, killing everyone.  Absurd!”

“But sir, the message we got earlier, the threat, this is it!” the men cried.

“Insubordination, nonsense, a bubble killing people, raving ma. . .”  he stopped.  The men in front of him fell dead on the floor and a bubble advanced towards him.  Helplessly he fired at the bubble, but to no avail.  He was dead, before he knew it.  No one escaped the North Base.

– – –

“That should do it!”  Kunan Bin Izra stopped the Cyclops bomb.  It faded into nothing.  He had just watched the bubble making speedy progress after an armoured vehicle, trying to escape the base.  It had been swallowed up.  The vehicle exploded and was no more.

Karl Johnson, smiled grimly as he too watched the death of the last Nazi in the North Base.  He switched the screen off.  Justice.  Now, the next stage.  He would send a message to Hans Flitch, pretending he had planted Cyclops bombs in every base.  He typed the message in and sent it.  He felt immensely pleased, the tide was battering at the Nazi defences now.

Chapter 9: In The Shadow Of The Bismarck

4 years later: 2078

The Bismarck 2 and Von Austel coasted serenely through the water around the southern coast of Australia.  Its high-plasma cannons swivelled to face the oncoming row of Australian Battleships approaching, all armed with 20-inch shells.  The latest standard: or so they thought. . .

– – –

The Nazis were all but lost.  The Australians had control over Britain after kicking out the Nazis and replacing the helpless British.  Al Qaeda and Karl Johnson had formed a powerful alliance and had crushed resistance all over the world.  The stage of the world was as followed.

Asia, was out of use because of nuclear fallout.  Al Qaeda had control of the Middle East and the whole of Africa after an endless struggle with European countries.  America and Canada had formed a powerful alliance and had shut themselves off from the world.  Australia had the whole of Europe, including Britain and the most of Australasia and Japan.  The main forces were America, Australia and the Nazis.  But, no one, apart from the Australians and the English, specifically knew of the Alliance between the two cricket rival nations.  In 2076, Australia had forced the Nazis out of Britain and into hiding in small parts of Russia.  Hans Flitch was re-gathering strength while the Australians and Al Qaeda secured parts of the world.  At that point Britain was weak, but independent.  Then, overnight, everything changed.  The Australians declared war and in one swift fake battle took control of Britain.  But the alliance the two had, had to remain secret in order to kill two birds with one stone.  Al-Qaeda and the Nazis.  The plan was for the Australians to cement themselves in with the Middle Eastern terrorists and then strike them when they were closest of friends.  So far, this was working, or so they thought.  Two problems.  One was the Nazis.  They were still alive and kicking, though weaker.  The second was, the terrorists had something up their sleeves.  They suspected the Australians might break away and destroy them.  So, they took the necessary precaution, and planted Cyclops bombs in every major city in Australia, and one in Java, just to make sure of surrender, if needed.  The Australians found a Cyclops bomb and realised, but there was nothing they could do about it.  If they attacked Al Qaeda, the other bombs would be activated.  Also, they absolutely could not risk fighting tow nations at once.  So they left it at that.  Everyone was in the dark.

Chapter 10: The Dawn Of Plasma

– – –

Back in the present the era of new weapons were beginning.  Starting with the Cyclops bomb, a huge plasma ball, the latest being the plasma cannons fitted on the Bismarck.  As they came within firing distance of the Australian ships, the plasma cannons had been shooting for ten seconds.  A thousand or so metres away, balls of flame erupted from the ships and three went down without shooting.  Still, ten remained.  Half of them were on fire and out of control, with only some in tact.  then the Von Austel’s plasma cannons fired.  The other ships didn’t stand a chance.

Hans Flitch rubbed his hands together with glee.  His two finest secret weapons were unleashed.  His warships were now sailing full pelt, back to his base-in Magadan-in the North East of Russia.  But, why were they sailing back?  Because of the following:

Flitch stared up into the roof of the domed building.  Three pointed warheads were attached to a launching mechanism.  He looked at the screen.  The glowing green screen showed a map of the world with all the major cities labelled.  He pressed his finger down on Canberra.  Then on Washington D.C.  And finally on New York.  Now, you may be thinking these are normal nukes.  Well, fortunately your wrong.  These were plasma bombs, big on destruction and absolutely no radiation.

Yes, you will get to read about an even bigger bang than even a nuclear bomb.  Flitch pressed the red “fire” button.  The ceiling opened, and the air of a world, which will never be the same again, flooded in.  The missiles rocketed into the sky.  Flitch smiled.  Tomorrow, he would be the world’s most powerful man.

If you like disasters, read my next book, you will NOT be disappointed.  Do you like New York Yankees stadium?  I certainly hope not.  Because it will not be there soon.


Part 2:Three Races United

Chapter 1: The Sons Of The Dragon

Kayato Asuko jumped out through the debris of the falling apart tunnel.  She gasped.  Around her, New York lay in shreds.  Her home, if she could call it one was obliterated.  She was dressed in a black Karate-like suit and he hair lay untidily down her back.  There was enough dust on her to keep her warm.  She looked like a ghost.  but she was alive.  Just minutes earlier a voice had boomed through the streets as she was weaving between the crowds of people, being chased by an angry shopkeeper whom she had stolen from.  It had said,

“Warning, Warning, unidentified missile approaching New York.  Everyone take cover.”  Everyone started screaming.  Some dashed for cover.  But only she and the rest of the Sons of the Dragon had sufficient cover.  She had tore back to the tunnel and had been about to warn the other Ninjas when she remembered.  They were out on a mission for an Australian who had called earlier.  She as the youngest, aged 16 was left behind with Old Kanu Sun.  She had unfortunately died of a heart attack from the shock.  Asuko was on her own.  She was still too stunned to move, taking in the surroundings.  She had to get out of New York.  She set off at a running pace.

An hour later, she was still running.  This time on the decimated road that lead out of New York.  This was what her training had done to her.  An impeccably fit girl, with fighting abilities better than any black belt.  The Karate-like suit she was wearing was actually  the highest grade of Jujitsu, the most lethal martial art known to man-kind.  All was quiet for several minutes.  Then suddenly a siren came into hearing.  A fleet of fire engines roared down the stricken road, slowing down to get round or over different obstacles.  Then they saw her.  The doors of one engine opened and two firemen jumped out,

“Hey, a surviour!”

“Yeah, there were none in Washington I hear.”

“Not half!”came the reply.

“Apparently Canberra, in Australia got it.  Must have been those frigging Nazis in Russia or where ever they’ve holed themselves up.”

“Yeah but why us. . .”

“Ahem!”Asuko got their attention.

“Yeah, what?  Oh yeah, we gotta take any survivors to Pennslyvania!”

“Heck, that’s a long drive, suppose the police have to check them for radiation or whatever.”  Two words in that sentence made Asuko’s heart go cold.  Police.  She was the youngest most wanted criminals in new York.  Suicide to go to the police.  Radiation.  Help.

“Ach, you fool, it’s not radioactive, got a Geiger counter ‘ere.”  He held it up to Asuko.  “See, nothing, codswallop what ya said.”

Asuko was relived but she remembered the police bit.  Time to get out of here.  She walked forward and jabbed the two arguing men in the neck.  They were out before they hit the ground.  The other firemen saw this and shouted,

“Get ‘er, what is she doing?”  Two firemen jumped at her.  She was already in the abandoned fire engine.  The two men collided.  Asuko grinned and reversed into the vehicles behind her, barging her way out.  She was stuck.  She opened the door and jumped.  Over the heads of her adversaries and through the window of another fire engine.  She reversed again, the men still screaming at her.  Then she was away.  The vehicle swung round battering the other fire engines.  A water tank burst.  Liquid flooded out on top of a firemen attempting to stop her.  Asuko pushed on the accelerator and gathered speed.  Time to go to Pennslyvania, to Harrisburg, not to the police but to her cousin, Achunko Asuko.  Behind her two fire engines were turning to chase her, but her vehicle was faster, because of the loss of weight.  However they were gaining on her.  She was on on a long stretch of road.  She secured the steering wheel and climbed steadily out of the window, her hair slapping against the side of the fire engine.  She reached for her shoe and opened a secret compartment.  Out came a knife.  Then aiming at the second water tank she hurled it straight at it.  Poing.  It had stuck fast, but had not punctured the tank.  She noticed a bend coming up.  Into the cabin she climbed again, observing the fire engines behind her gathering speed.  One of them had given up and tuned back.  Adrenaline rushed through her as the engine drew alongside her.  The fire man yelled above the wind,

“Who are you?  Stop!”  Asuko looked around for options.  There were none.  She was just about to swerve to the left when she heard a faint “pop” sound out side.  The fireman’s face turned into astonishment.  It was like he had seen a ghost.  A spurt of water powered into his face.  He screamed and let go of the steering wheel.  The fire engine turned awkwardly left.  It erupted in a ball of fire on a field of barley and rye.  Onwards to Harrisburg.

Chapter 2: Ejector Seat

The flight from Kansas to Washington D.C. was usually uneventful. The air hostess was preparing herself for another boring flight to Washington, helping passengers put their luggage on the plane. She observed a muscular teenager arrive, with barely any suitcases or anything. Eyeing him longingly she showed him his seat at the foreground of the plane’s 400 seats.

However, there was more to this guy than met the eye. One: he carried a Sig Sauer in a hidden right-hand pocket. Two: he carried information of the exact location of the Nazis secret Russian location. Three: he knew that the Nazis last Fourth Reich cell was about to break out in Europe. Four: he was the youngest operative for Colon-X. Colon-X was a secret service of all countries looking to overthrow the Nazis by secret-works, not all out wars. They had recently received a huge boost by gaining Shane Tedders. He was a valuable man and had lots of information on what Australia were planning to do to the Nazis next. If they could co-ordinate what they did and what the Australians did perfectly, the Nazis would crumble rapidly.

Another thing the hostess didn’t know that she would be dead by the end of the day.

The plane sped down the runway and into the air. Its motors propelling it higher until it hit cloud cover. Later, they were flying into Washington D.C. Airport controlled airspace when the Captain received an urgent message from the airport control tower. He looked at it alarmed and to the surprise of his co-pilot and the passengers and not least the hostess who fell over with a tray of drinks, he yanked the steering wheel to the right. The plane veered round into the other direction.

In the passengers compartment the hostess was trying to calm everyone down. Then a voice came in to hearing,

“This is your pilot speaking. I am sorry to have to report that an unidentified missile is due to strike Washington D.C. In a minute. We have been ordered to turn back. There is a high likelihood that we shall be consumed by the blast. Long live the president!” The plane erupted into screams and shouts. The muscular sixteen-year-old barged his way through the crowd of people milling about in the main aisle, the hostess trying to control them in vain. His name was Jack Wright and he doubted that the president would live long after the missile struck. Suddenly a huge noise filled his ears as the missile hit Washington! Plasma shock-wave after shock-wave flattened buildings upon buildings. Jack felt the plane lurch, even though they were miles away from the blast. Or so he thought. The wind had hit them, then came the shock-wave. It smashed into the plane and caused the whole of the outer plane to catch fire. The cockpit where the pilot was, was burnt out apart from the seats which was slightly singed. Wind was rushing in from every angle. A man flew out of the cockpit into the open air, never to be seen again. The plane dipped downwards throwing more passengers out of the window to their deaths. Now on a course to the ground the plane was going faster, helped tremendously by gravity. Then Jack Wright noticed it. On the metal panel that he was clinging onto, hung a parachute. It was half open but he reckoned he could easily jump with it. Tightening the buttons on his coat and securing the documents in his pockets he unwound the parachute. As soon as he let go of his handhold he flew into the air. The plane continued on its ascent as he Jack Wright descended safely to the ground. BOOM! The plane, or what was left of it, blew up as it smacked the ground. 403 people had died in just ten minutes. This war was getting worse. The sooner he got the documents to Colon-X, the sooner the Nazis were gone and the sooner the whole palaver ended and people stopped dying. However, he was not as safe as he thought he was. Around him, fires blazed and the heat was almost unbearable! He was stuck in a ring of fire, a ring which was closing in on him. Suddenly he heard a chugging of a helicopter above him and the end of a rope ladder landed on his shoulder. He looked up astonished to see Shane Tedders face smiling down at him.

“C’mon, grab hold, we knew you’d make it!” Jack Wright was hauled to safety as the ground he had been occupying was swallowed up with flames.

Chapter 3: Swim For Your Life

His pursuer was gaining on him and he knew it. His name was Karl Warne. He avoided an obstacle in the water and dived for the depths. Suddenly a shadow overwhelmed him. He was caught!

“Got you Karl!”shouted his friend Giorgio triumphantly, “Gottcha and you know it, hahah!”

“All right, all right, you win.” Karl Warne was dressed in a bathing suit and he was extremely muscular. He is was 15 and his appearance was powerful and striking. He was the under-15 Australian Swimming Champion, and catching him for quite an achievement. The obstacle I referred to was in fact an annoyed fat lady, clearly startled by the chase around her. She was now waddle-swimming through the water towards them,

“Uh-oh. . .” mimed Giorgio. She burst into flow:

“Young vagabonds,”heads turned, “Going helter-skelter around the Sydney Swimming Pool-I’ll have you know, I sponsored them- like raving lunatics. Unless this very roof falls on my head, I swear that I’ll get you kicked out of this pool. . .”then a voice boomed above them,

“This is the swimming pool manager, I am sorry to have to tell you that an unidentified missile had been sighted targeting Sydney. This may be the last thing I’ll ever say, so I want to wish you all good luck. Fighters are trying to shoot down the missile, however I have to tell you that the same had happened to both Washington D.C. And new York. The end is nigh. Goodbye.” The swimming pool turned into a big screaming sound as babies started to cry and men comforted their sobbing sweethearts. Then an explosion. And a split second later the roof fell in. Karl grabbed Giorgio’s hand and pulled him under the water as a shock-wave destroyed Sydney’s largest swimming pool. The roof had well and truly fallen in and as he and Giorgio attempted to get their bearings they observed the fat woman getting thwacked on the head with a piece of metal. He was tempted to laugh when he realised that there was blood streaming out of her head. She was dead, and so was everyone else in the Swimming Pool apart from them it seemed. That included his mother. He choked back tears as he and Giorgio rapidly swam for the surface avoiding metal floating to the bottom of the pool. He silently swore to himself that he would get revenge for his Mum. But now was not the time for sentimentality. He pulled Giorgio to the edge of the pool and they heaved themselves up onto the side. As Giorgio did this he put his hand on a piece of metal ceiling. He swore viciously and slid back into the pool, shocked. Karl pulled him out.

“That was ho. . .” Then he stopped and took in the surroundings. The whole complex was a heap of smouldering ashes. They stood up, astounded. Surely the world had just ended. Then Karl remembered the speech from the Swimming Poll manager. In Washington AND New York. He gulped and took it in. Everything he loved and knew was gone. All he had ever aspired to do, like swim at the Olympics was a thing of the past now. He and Giorgio sprinted to the smouldering doorway and out into the open. He wretched and threw up as he saw a rotting dead body to his left. He tried to breath in fresh air but all he got was a lungful of smoke. The air was stiflingly hot, almost unbearable.

“Where now?”gasped Giorgio.

“Out of here!”Karl panted in a reply. They ran on for ages, past heaps of charred stone houses, past the corner shop they knew so well, then to his house. They stopped. Giorgio glanced guiltily at Karl. His parents were on holiday. Karl’s Mum was not so lucky. He had already lost his Dad, fighting against the Nazis. Surely not his Mother too. But it did indeed seem to be the case. Karl pushed his way down the garden path and smashed his foot through the door. And there to his immense surprise was his Mum, live as life itself.

“KARL!”his Mum screamed happily at his,”You’re alive, oh my gosh!” They rushed to each other and embraced and exchanged kisses.

“How did you survive Mum? Karl asked perplexed but nevertheless overjoyed.

“Ah, I was in the kitchen when I heard the radio say,

‘Missile approaching’ and whatnot! Me being sensible Mum, didn’t panic but legged it to the basement. Clever old me!”She smiled, “and more importantly, how did you and Giorgio survive?” Karl looked awkwardly at his best friend, as he had been forgotten in the latter conversation.

“Ah, pot luck, dived under the water, though it got mighty hot around there, didn’t it Giorgio?”

“It certainly did!”replied Giorgio rubbing his burnt hand.

“Oh Giorgio, let me look at that!”cried Karl’s mother shocked. “Oh gosh, that looks nasty. Two ticks!” She rushed off through a battered doorway and fetched a piece of cloth from a decimated armchair. She wrapped it tightly around the burn and tied it off with a tight knot. “That should help!”

“Thanks!”said Giorgio, gratefully but obviously embarrassed. “That feels a lot better!”

“Now, time to find hel. . .!”Karl’s mother started and then stopped. They could hear a chugging noise above their heads, quite clearly. Instinctively, they rushed out of the house and waved into the sky hollering,

“Help, help!” Then they stopped as Karl motioned for them to be quiet. Above them on a rope ladder hanging on a helicopter stood a man in combat clothes hanging next to someone Karl knew quite well. It was Shane Tedders.

“Shane?”queried Karl.

“That’s me, sorry to here about your Dad, now get on board before the authorities come, time to move it to the Pacific Ocean!”Seeing the surprised looked on all three faces he said,

“I’ll explain on the way!”

roof falls on my head, I swear that I’ll get you kicked out of this pool. . .” Then a voice boomed above them,

“This is the swimming pool manager, I am sorry to have to tell you that an unidentified missile has been sighted targeting Canberra. This may be the last thing I’ll ever say, so I want to wish you all good luck. Fighters are trying to shoot down the missile, however I have to tell you that the same had happened to both Washington D.C. And new York. The end is nigh. Goodbye.” The swimming pool turned into a big screaming sound as babies started to cry and men comforted their sobbing sweethearts. Then an explosion. And a split second later the roof fell in. Karl grabbed Giorgio’s hand and pulled him under the water as a shock-wave destroyed Sydney’s largest swimming pool. The roof had well and truly fallen in and as he and Giorgio attempted to get their bearings they observed the fat woman getting thwacked on the head with a piece of metal. He was tempted to laugh, when he realised that there was blood streaming out of her head. She was dead, and so was everyone else in Canberra apart from them it seemed. That included his mother. He choked back tears as he and Giorgio rapidly swam for the surface avoiding metal floating to the bottom of the pool. He silently swore to himself that he would get revenge for his Mum. But now was not the time for sentimentality. He pulled Giorgio to the edge of the pool and they heaved themselves up onto the side. As Giorgio did this he put his hand on a piece of metal ceiling. He swore viciously and slid back into the pool, shocked. Karl pulled him out.

“That was ho. . .” Then he stopped and took in the surroundings. The whole complex was a heap of smouldering ashes. They stood up, astounded. Surely the world had just ended. Then Karl remembered the speech from the Swimming Pool manager. In Washington AND New York. He gulped and took it in. Everything he loved and knew was gone. All he had ever aspired to do, like swim at the Olympics was a thing of the past now. He and Giorgio sprinted to the smouldering doorway and out into the open. He wretched and threw up as he saw a bloody dead body to his left. He tried to breath in fresh air but all he got was a lungful of smoke. The air was stiflingly hot, almost unbearable.

“Where now?”gasped Giorgio.

“Out of here!”Karl panted in a reply. They ran on for ages, past heaps of charred stone houses, past the corner shop they knew so well, then to his house. They stopped. Giorgio glanced guiltily at Karl. His parents were on holiday. Karl’s Mum was not so lucky. He had already lost his Dad, fighting against the Nazis. Surely not his Mother too. But it did indeed seem to be the case. Karl pushed his way down the garden path and smashed his foot through the door. And there to his immense surprise was his Mum, live as life itself.

“KARL!”his Mum screamed happily at his,”You’re alive, oh my gosh!” They rushed to each other and embraced and exchanged kisses.

“How did you survive Mum? Karl asked perplexed but nevertheless overjoyed.

“Ah, I was in the kitchen when I heard the radio say,

‘Missile approaching’ and whatnot! Me being sensible Mum, didn’t panic but legged it to the basement. Clever old me!”She smiled, “and more importantly, how did you and Giorgio survive?” Karl looked awkwardly at his best friend, as he had been forgotten in the latter conversation.

“Ah, pot luck, dived under the water, though it got mighty hot around there, didn’t it Giorgio?”

“It certainly did!”replied Giorgio rubbing his burnt hand.

“Oh Giorgio, let me look at that!”cried Karl’s mother shocked. “Oh gosh, that looks nasty. Two ticks!” She rushed off through a battered doorway and fetched a piece of cloth from a decimated armchair. She wrapped it tightly around the burn and tied it off with a tight knot. “That should help!”

“Thanks!”said Giorgio, gratefully but obviously embarrassed. “That feels a lot better!”

“Now, time to find hel. . .!”Karl’s mother started and then stopped. They could hear a chugging noise above their heads, quite clearly. Instinctively, they rushed out of the house and waved into the sky hollering,

“Help, help!” Then they stopped as Karl motioned for them to be quiet. Above them on a rope ladder hanging on a helicopter stood a man in combat clothes hanging next to someone Karl knew quite well. It was Shane Tedders.

“Shane?”queried Karl.

“That’s me, sorry to here about your Dad, now get on board before the authorities come, time to move it to the Pacific Ocean!”Seeing the surprised looked on all three faces he said,

“I’ll explain on the way!”

Chapter 4:Four Heroes United

In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, stands the world’s most secret, underwater base ever and probably the most advanced as well. It was a kind of bubble on a huge metal stand bolted to the seabed. It was the HQ of Colon-X and its appearance was of one of the most high-tech bases you can find. The bubble itself was not see-through and there were no obvious entrances but it looked like a solid grey ball on a huge metal pole. The thing is, it was not as harmless as it seemed. If it came under attack which was very likely it would just be one flick of a switch which would activate about a thousand plasma cannons which would unfold out of the greyness. But nor was the complex small. It was probably the height of fifty football stadiums and as wide as twenty pitches. It was huge. It housed half a million operatives and was expanding by the day as more dissatisfied people were selected from the ranks of normal people. There were about a hundred floors in the complex, twenty of which were the homes to all who were part of Colon-X. The other eighty were a mixture of things. Some were training floors, other executive offices and still others, where people behind desks sat analysing or planning operations that were being planned for that. In the dead centre of the bubble was the head of Colon-X’s quarters. His name was Sam Chandra and was a very secretive man, no wives, no nothing. Some families lived together. The whole building was a great mixture of different languages, races, skills, colours, style and made the place an exiting place to be. It was also the home of many grave news pieces. Telling of how the world got worse. If there were disasters, like the plasma bombs, huge meetings would be called to brief people on new lines of work which may occur as a result of the disaster. The only unsymmetrical part of the building was the chute that led off to the right of the bubble, towards a black metal submarine bay. This was the way they got food. Every week, a submarine would be sent to get food from illicit sources or the subs would be used as a way of getting outside news or scouting or even for taking operatives to their mission. Another way of going somewhere from the bubble would be by plane. When Colon-X made sure no one was anywhere nearby, they would sometimes let a plane fly out through the top of the bubble.

This was the new life that Shane Tedders, Giorgio, Karl and his Mum had to adapt to. Karl’s Mum had got a job in the communications office while Karl, Giorgio and Jack Wright their new friend were trained for a special mission. When they found out the mission they were surprised. Jack had brought information on the next uprising of the Fourth Reich. All over Europe. They had to find the Reich, infiltrate it and stop the Reich from posing a threat by the time the 15th of October came, the scheduled date of the the latest emerging of the Reich. How four people, he Karl, Giorgio, Jack and Shane were going to disable a Reich he did not know. But he knew that they had dismantled his life, so they were going to get justice at last. From three kids and a man, he thought unsurely.

As Karl walked alongside Giorgio towards the lunch area on the SHOOTING FLOOR he thought about how sceptical of Colon-X he had been at first. Why had he and Giorgio, (he suspected just himself, his best friend was lazy) been selected for some secret service. He knew the world was bad, but surely not this bad. However, when he looked at the world map, he saw all the markers of where the main powers were. He was convinced. The world really was that bad after all.

The shooting had been difficult. He had kept missing and the instructor had got a bit annoyed and threatened to kill him. Hopefully this was a joke. A week ago he had been a normal boy, as normal as you could get in the current world, and a week on he was learning to shoot a rifle. Crazy.

Chapter 5: Nazis in Harrisburg


Kayato Asuko peered cautiously round the corner. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was in the main street of Harrisburg. Asuko had seen enough of the large town to know it’s obliviousness of the war. The street was wide and on either side of a large bustling pavement, were shops of all kind. Her cousin, Achunko, owned a pub down here, she knew that much. But there were about five pubs in view. Asuko also knew that he would not be behind the bar most of the times. He was the manager and part of something else that Asuko did not know about. All she knew was, that it meant Achunko was often away in some far off place in the world. He was likely not to be at home.

Asuko entered the first pub carefully, she knew the atmosphere of many American public houses.

“Hey, we don’t serve little kids in here, now get out!” a man from the bar yelled above the noise and a thick layer of smoke. Asuko hesitated before moving out, which was lucky because a machete intended for her thudded into the wall ahead of her. She quickly darted out of the door again. Yes, she could take anyone in there, but getting into a fight could seriously jeopardize finding her cousin. The next two pubs she tried were more civil and she inquired of her cousin. One man said his cousin was in the Angry Squid hotel across the busy road. Just as she was turning to go, the man leapt up from his seat and grabbed her by the neck,

“Now you pay me! Or die!” he breathed in her face, pulling out a knife. The barman shouted,

“No, you stop, none of that in here!” he was running to the table. THUNK. The knife hit the man in the chest. He fell over clasping his chest.

“Money, little girl, or you get it!”

“I don’t have. . .”Gun fire. Tactactactactactac the man was thrown against the wall. A man appeared at the door,

“Come ‘ere Kayato!” It was Achunko. How pleased was she to see him. They hugged and then stopped. Eyes were staring at them from all around the room. The barman was recovering from his small knife wound, he looked up and said,

“Guns in my bar? What the. . .”

“I do believe it is my bar!” came a voice from the stairs on their right. A man was pointing a gun at them. Achunko’s finger tightened on the trigger of his machine-pistol.

“Don’t try anything Achunko” he said as a door at the back was kicked open. A uniformed man stood there with an assault rifle. And behind them in the doorway was yet another uniformed gunman. Then suddenly, a couple of the customers at the bar drew guns. They pushed the innocent customers into the corner.

“Oh deary me, has dear Achunko of Colon-X walked straight into a trap? I do believe he has!” he laughed an evil laugh and then said,

“Do you see what my friends are wearing on their arms, oh yes, a swastika!” he smiled and carried on,

“I wonder how we shall needle the location of the Colon-X secret base out of you Achunko, will you need a bit of persuasion? Now, drop the gun, or Kayato gets it!” Obediently the gun clattered to the ground.

– – –

Kayato and Achunko stood rooted to the spot as the chief Nazi boasted triumphantly at how they had fallen into his trap. But Achunko had not been listening. He whispered in Kayato’s ear.

“Run, head to 24 Pelican Street, go!” Kayato did not look to happy to leave him but she was used to surviving on her own. She dashed for the door and ran out into the street. Behind her she could hear shouting,

“Stop her!” But Kayato melted like butter into the thick crowd. She darted right down a road, then left and finally lay panting inside a dense bush. She had easily lost her pursuers. Now, 24 Pelican Street. Where on Earth was that? She sighed and lay down her head. She would think about that tomorrow. She was soon asleep.

Chapter 6: Hanover and Fitzgerald

Karl, Giorgio, Jack and Shane all disguised as American tourists pushed their way through the crowd of passengers from the air-plane. It was hot for Berlin and signs of their war with France were evident. They had been fighting over Kenya but called a cease-fire when the Nazi situation became a real threat to them. However their borders were heavily guarded and you could see armed soldiers in twos wherever you went. But finding the Nazis was even harder. As the day went on they had searched an old house but the only thing they found was a couple of mouldy boxes. They had retired to separate hotels. Karl and Giorgio together and Jack and Shane in a hotel 30 minutes away from their counter-parts.

The next day in Berlin dawned bright and apparently jovial. That morning a news broadcast had declared that there were no Nazis in Germany. However, Karl and Giorgio did not agree with that. The previous night they had been tipped off by a mysterious man that some illicit activity was occurring in an old abandoned mine. They were going to investigate and find out the truth. Then, Jack and Shane would follow on an hour after down a different mineshaft if Karl and Giorgio had not returned. Giorgio was not too pleased with this as Jack and Shane got to relax for an hour or so:

“Why do you get to rest? We found out about the mine, so why don’t you go there and take your fair share of business?” Karl looked annoyed at this considering that he had started the conversation and prised out the information that night. He did sometimes wonder about Giorgio. He was a good person, but always quite lazy. His fitness had increased and his general all-round effort had gone up but inside he was the same person Karl had known a year ago, slopping about in Maths classes. Shane spoke firmly to Giorgio,

“Listen, we can easily tell Sam Chandra, and he can get you a job cleaning bins back at HQ!” Giorgio shut up at this and changed the subject to equipment,

“So, what d’we take then. Our guns of course. . .”

“Nope.”said Jack. “We don’t want you starting a fire-fight with Nazis armed with machine-guns.”Even Karl looked annoyed at this,

“What? No guns? What if they shoot at us anyway, they’ll batter us.”he ranted and then calming down. “Surely we’ll have something to protect ourselves with!” Shane hastily replied,

“Oh yes, don’t worry you’ll both have a stun grenade, a smoke grenade and a knife!”

“What about a real grenade which kills?”then he stopped looking apologetically at Shane, “sorry, I was getting carried away, it’s just. . .!”

“Don’t worry Karl, and you too Giorgio, everyone feels snappy and nervous before their first mission. But what you have to realise is that these are real soldiers we’re up against, even if it ends up being a boring old mine, you will one day have to fight them. You have to be cautious. Not marching into their HQ with all guns blazing, ok?” he paused, letting his words sink in and then carried on. “Right. You’ll have a torch, a grappling hook and a . . . “

“A grappling hook? What on Earth is the point. . .?”Karl frowned at Giorgio who had just said this, signalling to him to shut up. Shane continued outlining the mission:

“Just find out if the Nazis are there and take a look at their numbers and then be back here in an hour. If you aren’t back or haven’t called us in an hour we will come in for you, understood?” Karl and Giorgio nodded. “Let’s go then, remember, you’re only kids still, and personally I think putting you in on this mission is a bad idea, but Sam didn’t think so, evidently!”

When they reached a mile from the mine they stopped. They could not afford to be heard approaching their destination as there could well be guards. Karl and Giorgio got out and Jack said,

“We’ll be here, just be back here in an hour or call us, or we’ll come in!” Karl and Giorgio sprinted over the hilly grassy ground and dived to the ground at the top a mound. Karl whispered to Giorgio,

“Ok, get the night visions out!”he was referring to the infra-red goggles they both had. The Sun was setting and darkness was starting to creep up around them. Karl wondered what the Nazis would be like. Would they even be there? And if not where were they? He felt a shiver tingle down his spine. He was rushed out of his thought by a nudge from Giorgio.

“I can see the entrance to the mine. There doesn’t appear to be anyone there!”he said.

“All-right, let’s move on!”replied Karl, automatically taking charge. They ran over the grass, both grateful for their night-vision goggles. About a hundred metres from the mine they found the last mound before the entrance. The entrance was not a shaft but a simply constructed big hole with wooden supports forming the frame. They advanced towards it with a feeling of dread upon them. What would they find through the entrance? Both of them turned on their torches illuminating the door. And at last they were in. Flashing light on the wall, perhaps a little to openly, they tiptoed forward. They seemed to be in a sort of passage. At one point they passed a door on which was written: HANOVER AND FITZGERALD. They decided to move on and check the rest of the passage. Their conclusion on the sign was that it was simply the old company who used to operate in this mine. Onwards they trod and at last they could noises and see a fairly dim light ahead of them. At this Giorgio fearfully switched off his torch. Karl, however, being more methodical, brought out his communicator and tapped in a message which read:

Light seen at end of passage. Voices as well. Will investigate. K&G.

Karl and Giorgio carried on walking, ever aware that at any moment they might be discovered. The noise, got louder, voices in German could be recognised, and the light was brighter. Then they found themselves on a balcony about 20 metres wide with metal steps running down on their right to a smaller balcony which then went on to the floor. Karl and Giorgio dropped flat to the floor and crept to the edge. Peering over the top they could see thousands of men below in a huge open space, marching around, doing weapons practice. To their right was a guarded area behind which a man sat facing away from them, writing. The noise was horrendous. A horrible smell of blood and sweat wafted up to them forcing them to gag. Karl had his communicator out and had already written:

Thousands of Nazis training. Army. Huge hidden area. Will investigate. Need more time. Half hour xtra needed. K&G.

Then a bell rang loudly and suddenly everyone stopped working. Karl and Giorgio thought they had been discovered. But fortunately it appeared to be a break. The men headed for a double door at each side of the training area. Karl whispered to Giorgio:

“Look, now’s our chance to take a look around. Even the guy over there has gone!”he pointed at the now empty desk. Giorgio looked doubtful at this suggestion.

“What if we’re discovered?”he said fearfully.

“There is always a risk. If we never take risks, we’ll never get anywhere!”replied Karl who was already sprinting down the steps. They got a closer look at some of the weapons. Giorgio foolishly picked a gun up and pointed it at the wall and squeezed the trigger. No noise came out but a jet of light which lit up the wall and then burned a huge hole in it.

“Put that down, you fool!”said Karl angrily. He was about to have a go at Giorgio more when voices could be heard from the huge double doors.

Chapter 7: A Bit Of Both Kinds Of Luck

“Quick!”said Karl looking around. “Hide!” he and Giorgio dived behind some boxes and nestled themselves in the centre of them. Within a minute the whole massive training complex was full. Karl and Giorgio lay fearfully with the enemy within metres of them. They estimated that the training area was at least 3000 metres wide and a mile long. Then their hearts skipped a beat when they heard someone say in German,

“Ich erhalte eine neue Gewehr aus jenen Kästen heraus, hat ein Idiot ein Loch in der Wand und herauf die ganze Munition benutzt gesprengt.” Karl and Giorgio spoke German perfectly as that was one of the things they had been trained to do back at Colon-X HQ. What the Nazi had said was,

“I will get a new gun out of those boxes, an idiot has blasted a hole in the wall and used up all the ammunition.” Hearts in their mouth, Karl and Giorgio tried to stay hidden around the boxes. They wished the ground would just swallow them up. The Nazi, sweating heavily, opened the box and pulled out a gun. Thankfully for Karl and Giorgio, he did not see them and went back to his training. They heaved a huge sigh of relief. Karl, keeping his body low managed to send a garbled message to Jack and Shane.

Nearly got caught. Safe for now. If not out in hour and half come in and rescue. K&G.

Karl and Giorgio lay waiting for an hour and finally the men took another break. Quickly, when everyone had gone they rushed from their hiding places feeling extremely bad with their pins and needles. Up the stairs to the first balcony they rushed when they heard a shout.

“Achtung!”It was the man behind the desk, evidently the leader. A bullet whizzed past their heads and pinged into the rock above them. They were now on the main balcony heading for the door which would take them to the passage which led to the open air and hopefully safety. The man behind the desk had hit an alarm and a klaxon wailed overhead. Terrified they tore down the corridor. They could hear people running after them. Down the passage they ran , the end was now in sight. But then an unfortunate thing happened. Giorgio tripped and they lost valuable time getting up. Then to crown their bad-luck the door which they had ignored earlier swung open and a Nazi cradling a gun stood over them. He hit out at them but Karl jumped up and kicked him in the chest. But the Nazi was strong and barely felt it. He grabbed him and Giorgio at the same time and shoved them violently backwards into the wall. Their other pursuers caught up with them and stun darts hit them both. Everything went black. . .

– – –

Shane and Jack lowered themselves cautiously down the mine shaft. They knew that Karl and Giorgio had been captured or something else terrible had gone wrong. No voices could be heard as they dropped to the floor. They seemed to be in a big stone floor. Opposite them was a balcony. The very same balcony on which Karl and Giorgio had stood only hours before. The whole training area was uncannily empty. Shane and Jack rather foolishly walked out unto the middle. They stood there for a moment pondering over where everyone was. They suddenly a voice said very calmly from behind them:

“Good evening, I assume you are friends of the two boys who so stupidly came marauding round our base? They assured us that they had friends who would get them out. We took them word for word and naturally waited for you to come for them.”

Chapter 8:Last Man Standing

“Could we have been so stupid?”thought Jack. The stupidity of their actions sunk in. In the message that had been sent to them by Karl and Giorgio it had stated thousands of Nazis. As he and Shane turned round they noticed soldiers on the balcony. A trap. A man surrounded by troops was marching towards them. It was the man who had spoken to them. Shane gripped his AK48. Pitiful laughter from the chief Nazi.

“Hahahaha, oh you think you can shoot two thousand men single-handed?” As if to prove his point he fired a round from his pistol at the floor. “Come now, let us be reasonable. I just want to know who you are. . .”

“Oh yeah!”said Shane sarcastically, “and just let us go afterwards I suppose?” The chief however did not seem fazed at this, instead he merely nodded and said,

“Well, I didn’t ask you to come here did I? Anyway, let’s go somewhere slightly more private!” He glared at his men who obviously were petrified of him.

They were led through the doors into a sort of prison block which consisted of a few rooms with narrow beds. As they roughly were pushed into one they noticed Karl and Giorgio in another room. They looked fine apart from a massive bruise Karl was sporting on his left cheek. Shane and Jack expected to be interrogated but instead they were left alone in their cells.

It was night time in the underground base but everywhere still seemed functional. The Nazis were preparing for something. Karl, Giorgio, Jack and Shane discovered they could communicate without the guard noticing by tapping on the walls using Morse code. A plan of escape had been constructed using this way of talking to each other. At 10 O’clock they were going to put it into action.

It was time. Giorgio stuck his fingers down his throat and puked all over the door. The guard looked round in alarm and swung open the door.

“Vot ist the matter?”he asked Karl.

“My friend is sick!”was the reply.

“I go get doctor!”said the guard.

“No you won’t!”

“Vot!”the guard turned round again and was met with a strong uppercut which sent him flying into the far wall. The guard outside Shane and Jack’s cell looked round in surprise but the only words he could get out were:

“Ach. . .!” before a running Giorgio crashed into him. Karl grabbed the first fallen guard’s gun and mowed down the guard at the door of the prison block. He unlocked the door of Shane and Jack’s cell and they all acquired guns. But before they got there the door slammed against the wall and machine gun fire ricocheted all around them. Diving for cover in the cells around them they returned fire quickly forcing the German to retreat. A couple of bodies lay on the floor blocking door. Suddenly a grenade bounced through the door. It blew up and thick smoke started to envelope the room.

“Gas, quick to the door!” Guns blazing they rushed through the door. Taken by surprise the Nazis panicked and flooded out into the training area scattering fellow soldiers. Charging forward the four of them, Shane, Jack, Karl and Giorgio fired and fired setting off grenades causing chaos among the Nazis. Then a huge bomb went off covering the training ground in smoke. Heading for the balcony they thought they were through. But then two things happened. Random machine-gun fire ripped Jack’s legs apart causing him to be immobilised, the Nazi chief appeared and shot Shane through the heart killing him instantly. Karl could not believe what was happening.

“Noooooooo!”he screamed. Two friends he had grown to trust and love had been taken away from him. Thirsty for revenge he hurled himself at the laughing Chief. They struggled with each other and then: BANG! Giorgio who had been yelling for him to escape with him had shot the Nazi dead. The havoc they had caused behind them was slowly clearing. The balcony had collapsed around them and the only place they could go was into the Chief’s office. Behind them bullets whizzed after them but they had just managed to get out the other side of the office into the weapons storage room. Climbing over boxes they headed for a door to the right of the room. If it did not get them out it would mean their certain death. Nazis were pouring after them. Just as they opened their last resort the door in which they had just entered the room blew open. Then Karl’s heart jumped. It was the passage leading to the outside world. The door through which their captors had emerged during their last escape attempt. They got through the door just in time as bullets marked the spot they had been in a second ago. Sprinting out of the mine they ran until they got to the jeep. No Nazis had followed them. But Karl’s heart wrenched as he thought of his friends who had died. Giorgio started the engine and they headed. To the town. They impatiently queued through the traffic jams of Berlin until they got to their hotel. They had to contact Colon-X before the Nazis moved out of their hidden base. Rushing up to their room they pushed open the door. Fumbling around for the radio transmitter Giorgio said to Karl who had just entered the room,

“Must call HQ. . .!” And they were the last words he said. BOOM! The radio blew up shredding Giorgio apart. Karl watched in horror and then succumbed to unconscious as a piece metal hit him in the head. On the streets of Berlin however, tanks had just rolled into the city. The Fourth Reich had control of Berlin in minutes.

Chapter 9:The Berlin Resistance

As the news filtered through to Kunan Bin Izra he chucked the cigarette he had been smoking away. So, Berlin had fallen. Well, it was time to call Herr Braun. Yes, soon that mongrel Flitch would be no more and the false alliance he had with Australia would be a thing of the past.

– – –

Karl woke up. His vision was blurry. Two figures, he could make that much out. Over the next minutes his sight was restored.

“Hello?”came a voice from a woman in a white coat. “How are you?” Then a man in khaki said,

“Hello. I am Major Jap Stan of the Berlin resistance. Berlin fell hours ago. The German army couldn’t do a thing. The Nazis had equipment unbelievably technologically advanced. We formed a resistance as soon as the Nazis were sighted. We believe Hans Flitch himself is here.” Karl spoke for the first time,

“There was another boy with me.”

“Sorry, he was dead when we found you. We ran through houses asking people to join the resistance, until we came to you, only got about ten members though.”he smiled anxiously. But Karl was not listening any more. Once again his vision had gone blurry. Giorgio, gone for ever, his best friend in all the happy days of his life in Australia. How had they even known the hotel where he was staying. Revenge. That was what he wanted. He wanted to see Hans Flitch machine-gunned to pieces, shredded. His sight clearing, he jumped out of bed. Then noticing how dingy it was he said,

“Where are we?” The nurse, trying to get him back into bed, replied,

“An underground base of about three rooms. We’d been planning this for ages, suspecting the Nazis to rise in their ‘home town’.”

“The exit to this place leads to this lady’s house’s cellar. They, the Nazis I mean, have no clue that she is involved! Filled in Major Jap Stan. “Seeing as you’re so eager to hurt the Nazis, why not come with me and Herr Vaughan here.” He pointed to a muscular man in the door. ‘Herr Vaughan’ advance towards the boy, looking as if he was going to punch Karl. Actually he was offering his hand for a shake.

“Oh!”said Karl, “Sorry!” the huge man scowled back at him.

“Yes anyway,”said Stan in a bright voice, “we leave right away, time to wreak havoc around Berlin. We received a message from the Australians and their allies. They’re mounting an attack within the hour. So, it’s in and out back here ASAP, understand. Lay your bombs and scarper!”

Soon, after about forty minutes, the three of them were back at the underground base.

“We planted bombs on all the anti aircraft guns didn’t we?”said Stan as he sunk into a mouldy arm chair.

“Yeah!”replied Vaughan. “It’s about time to set ’em off. Wait, is that aircraft I hear?!”

“Uh-oh!”was all Karl could say.

“The bombs! Activate them!”shouted Stan as the planes zoomed over head. Bombs activated came a cry from the next room.

“Outside everyone quick!”as they heard explosions coming from their charges they had set.

Within a minute they were watching explosions from the Australian bombs lighting up the sky above the Nazi’s command centre.

“They’re using the new Helga-F-50. Berlin will fall in no time!”shouted Vaughan gleefully. People were in the streets watching joyfully. Then something awful happened. Some sort of gigantic turret was rising up out of the ground about fifty metres away. The house it had been under was literally thrown to the side. People started screaming as the turret opened fire. It was a plasma gun. The Australian planes were engulfed in plasma. Only fragments fell to Earth of the planes because most had been burnt to a crisp. The turret lowered back into the ground and a metal casing slid over the broken soil. The owner of the smashed up house was distraught. But no one cared about her, only the monstrosity of the weapon. It was unstoppable. Those planes had no chance.

Chapter 10:Traitor In The Ranks

Hans Flitch sat in thought in his base at Magadan. He was perfectly safe here. No one knew where he was. However, he did not feel safe. Yes, his troops had conquered Berlin but something told him it was all too good to last. His soldiers all thought the war was going well. Quite simply, it was not. All he had were remnants in Korea, Miroslav Himmler was not too happy to go on another offensive after the failure in Australia, and the last Hidden Reich cell which could emerge from America if he wanted but he knew the Americans could destroy them. They were better spent rounding up secret service agents. They had caught one recently as a matter of fact . The American Reich was the smallest cell, containing only 3000 men. Not nearly enough for anything useful, apart from the science section they had. It boasted the most prolific scientists in the world and they were cooking something up for him. However, it was not an offensive weapon but an escape route. They were designing a space shuttle. If everything failed then he would hop over to America unseen and head for the moon. The shuttle would contain enough space to contain the whole American Reich. He was hoping that he would not have to resort to flying to the moon. But then again it would be a good place to plan his operations.

– – –

Precisely 4340 miles away Franz Hanover and Gordon Fitzgerald were deep in conversation with Heinrich Braun.

“Listen, we only need to assume control. The troops are completely on our side!”said Hanover.

“Yes, but have you forgotten spies may exist. Flitch may already know. . .”protested Braun.

“What about those friends you’ve got in the Middle East, eh? We are completely in control. Nothing can stop us. If Flitch knows, then who cares. What can he do. Move his whole army out of Magadan?”said Fitzgerald.

“You know perfectly well he’s got nukes. . .”explained Braun but was cut off by an angry Hanover:

“Our plasma cannons can easily deal with them, we can shoot ’em down half a continent before they get here.”

“Ok, ok, but we have to keep this secret until Al Qaeda scrap their alliance with the Aussies. Agreed?”

Hanover and Fitzgerald nodded. Then they could get rid of this stupid man.

– – –

Kayato knocked cautiously on the door of 24 Pelican Street. It had a shabby appearance which reminded her of her old grandmother’s house in New York. The door swung open and a man with a scowl on his face stood imposingly on the doorway.

“Er, hello!” The man briefly stared her in the eye and then slammed the door in her face. Kayato had had enough. She jumped and karate kicked the door with all her might. It flew open hitting the retreating figure of the unfriendly man.

“Kayato Asuko.”said Asuko with an air of let me in or I’ll bash your face in. The man, at the sound of Asuko, looked intrigued and beckoned her inside, checking that no one from the street was watching. Still he had not said a single word. Kayato followed him carefully. They passed two empty cobwebby rooms in the dimly lit house before coming to a metal door. The man tapped on the door in a particular rhythm. At first there was no answer. Then the words,

“Enter operative!” He swung the door open. Suddenly they were in a bright homely looking room. Three men sat slouching on sofas with magazines sprawled on their laps.

“Well, well, well, what ‘ave we ‘ere?”said a burly looking fellow who most likely was the leader. The door-man went over to him and whispered something in his ear.

“Ah-ha!”said the leader in a loud voice causing Kayato to jump.

“What news of Achunko?”he asked.

“Er, well, I was looking for him in a bar and some guy threw a machete at me. Achunko arrived bang on time and well. . .shot him.”The leader shook his head at this. Kayato continued. “Then a Nazi guy appeared and captured him. Achunko told me to run and. . .well, I did.” the leader swore viciously.

“Great!”he said sarcastically. “I suppose they’ve taken him to the warehouse on Pilano Road. The place where we’ve been trying to find proof that the Nazis are using it as a base, and haven’t!” Everyone looked expectantly at him. Then he continued: “So, Guy and Ray, tomorrow night we go in and get ‘im out!”

“But boss, how’d’ya know he’s in there?”questioned one of them.

“Yeah!”agreed the other.

“Jus’a feeling boys. Now get prepared for t’night! Kayato, you’d better get some sleep, ‘cos you’re comin’ t’night.” explained the leader. Just as everyone were getting up t leave Kayato piped up:

“Er, who are you?”

“Colon-X, secret international service, looking to beat the Nazis by foul play instead of straight battles. An’ that’s all ya need t’ know. Right, food then bed. Then we go get Achunko back!”

Chapter 11:Friends Reunited

Jack had been in his cell for days. The underground base had been used scarcely after they had taken over Berlin. A few hours ago he had heard sounds of bombing and then a horrible noise and then silence. He had lost the use of both of his legs. His life was agony. Had Karl and the others got out alive? Then suddenly he heard the sound of keys on the door. He swivelled round on his wooden bed to look at the door. There, at the door, keys in hand stood Karl and Major Jap Stan.

“Karl!”Jack said in a croaky voice. “You’re alive. Where’re Shane and Giorgio?”

“Dead.”was the sad reply.

“What?”said Jack disbelievingly. “Them, dead?”

“Yes, the Nazi chief got Shane and a planted bomb at the hotel did for Giorgio!”said Karl

“I know the name of that blasted chief. Heinrich Braun I think it was. I hate ‘im.”said Jack

“Quick, we must get out. There aren’t many Nazis around at the moment. Look I have Jack’s wheelchair.”warned Stan. “Oh yeah,”he said to Jack, “I’m Major Jap Stan of the Berlin Resistance.”

They wheeled Jack out of the prison cell. A guard appeared but Stan dealt with him with a pistol fitted with a silencer. They were now in the training area.

“Why’s there no one around?”inquired Karl of Jack.

“I think they’re planning to attack the rest of Germany. They’re mostly on the ground. WAIT, DUCK!”he shouted. Karl and Stan threw themselves to the floor as a bullet whistled overhead. It was the Nazi chief, Heinrich Braun. A well aimed shot from Stan hit him in the thigh. They did not have enough time to finish him off and had to get into the passage leading to the outside world. As they got into a car outside Braun pressed a button on his desk and operated the outside cameras then hesaid into the intercom which connected to all his troops,

“Stop occupants of red Volkswagen, SD45 E45W!”and then he passed out.

The red Volkswagen raced through the city wheels squealing as they screeched round bends. The Nazis were after them, machine-guns pinged bullets off the armoured car. In the back Karl returned fire. One of their pursuers’ engine blew up causing their fellow motorbikes to crash into a wall. Thinking the danger had passed, Karl lowered his gun and shouted above the wind,

“Head for the main road out of here, we have to get to the airport at Hamburg!” Then, out of no where a tank appeared and opened fire. Luckily for the occupants of the target, they managed to swerve away. Round the tank they went and finally they came to a road block.

“Great!”muttered Jack as they crashed through the barrier. Bullets chased them down the road but to no avail. They were on their way to Hamburg, which was in the control of Australia. There, they could make contact with Colon-X.

Chapter 12:Mutiny

The Von Austel and the Bismarck coasted serenely through the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Their giant plasma cannons glistened in the midday sun. No battle ships dared oppose them. Earlier that week they had obliterated a coastal town of Australia. Then it all went wrong. The captain of the Bismarck was alerted by his second in command that an urgent message from HQ in Magadan had been received. When he heard the message his heart stopped for a second. The message ran like this,

“Urgent. Return to base. Berlin cell have rebelled. They are sending plasma wielding planes to deal with you. Al-Qaeda are with the Berlin cell. Hans Flitch.”

The captain hurried to the bridge to see the Von Austel turning to a new course, heading back to Magadan. The captain shouted orders for the Bismarck to turn around. Then suddenly he knew something was wrong. As a mere precaution, both the ships had their gun turrets out but he noticed that the Von Austel’s turrets were swivelling towards them. The Captain yelled:

“Quick, evasive manoeuvre, 180 degrees left. All gun stations engage enemy Von Austel.”

The crew looked bewildered for a moment and then they got down to work. But the Von Austel’s turrets were in firing position and suddenly they let off a blast at the main gun turret of the Bismarck. It destroyed it completely and now only two smaller turrets were left. Then the captain understood. The Von Austel’s captain was with the rebel Berlin cell. Quickly he sent a message to HQ at Magadan to warn them. Then all the plasma cannons aboard the Von Austel opened fire. The Bismarck was no more.

Deep below the ocean in Colon-X communications room was in turmoil.

“Am I believing what I am seeing?”said Sam Chandra amazed. “The Krauts just blasted their best warship out of the water. What on. . .”

“Sir!”interrupted the urgent voice of a radio operator. “We have picked up a message from Australia to America. It says:”she then began to read:

“President O’Neil. We regret to inform you that Al-Qaeda have joined sides with a rebel Nazi cell. Hans Flitch has been rendered nearly powerless as his funding from the company ‘Hanover and Fitzgerald’ has ceased. We implore you to help. You may know that they have planted Cyclops bombs all over Australia and in the Philippines. They will activate them should we not surrender. We are going to surrender. I beg you, fight them.”

Chapter 13: The Big Man’s Son

It was night time as Kayato, Bob Newman (the leader), Guy and Ray stealthily crept threw the night towards the warehouse. It was situated a mile out of Harrisburg in a sort of country lane. It was a moonless night and the greyness of the building was intensified. It looked in many ways like a normal house except that all the windows had lights on and one had metal bars stopping any access to that particular room. After hours of observation they had decided that the time was ripe to get Achunko back. They assumed he was the inhabitant of the barred up room. Just ten minutes earlier, ten or so men had left the drive of the warehouse. The garden which ran all around the warehouse was a dense mixture of shrubs and trees. It was perfect cover for any assault on the building. They had decided to attack the building with a diversion. Guy and ray would hurl grenades at the opposite end of the house to where Achumko was. They would also use a machine-gun to distract the guards. This would happen while Kayato and Newman climbed up the window and removed the bars enabling them to escape with Achunko.

At 5 past 1 Kayato and Newman scaled the wall and hung on ropes underneath the window where Achunko was. Then they checked that no one was in the room before pinning a note to the window describing to Achunko what would happen. But unfortunately for them CCTV cameras spotted the note and the guards inside knew what would happen.

Jarken Flitch, the son of Hans was in charge of the warehouse. On seeing the CCTV footage he said,

“Jones, get the heck down there and see to it that those men hidden in the gardens are disposed off. I will deal with our visitors myself.” A minute later when Ray and Guy threw their first grenades, riflemen on the roof opened fire instantly killing Gus. Ray however blasted the rooftop with machine-gun fire. Meanwhile Kayato and Bob smashed the window and jumped in.

“Achunko!”cried Kayato joyfully.

“Kayato, how good to see you. I take it, that the noise over there,”he pointed out of the window, “is Ray and Guy’s doing?”said Achunko

“Oh yes, who else would?”said Newman. Then a voice spoke from the door:

“Yes, I would dearly love to know who else is in Colon-X.”They all turned to see Jarken Flitch holding a STEN sub machine-gun. “Sorry to spoil the family reunion! And, ah, it is little Kayato Asuko, how good to see you, ah wait a sec!” Jones had just run in breathless,

“Got them sir, both of ’em, lying dead on the ground, see, us American mercenaries aren’t so bad!”

“Traitor!”yelled Newman.

“Huh, gotta be on the right side when it comes to war, but, lost all m’ men I did, hope you pay me well!”responded Jones.

“Oh, sorry, a little inconvenience occurred today on the subject of your payment.”said Jarken.

“Oh, an’ what was that then?”queried Jones suspiciously.

“Oops, my mistake, it hasn’t happened yet!”then Jarken shot Jones through the head. “Never pays to be a traitor, does it?”he said to his prisoners. “Oh yes, please be so kind as to put that nasty ickle pistol away, don’t want to hurt anyone, do we? I’m on my own in this house, you see, don’t wanna take any risks!”he said with a sickly smile, watching his enemies guns being placed on the bed. “Right, down the stairs.” With the three of them in front, they walked down the drive towards the road. “A few of my friends should be here soon. The ones I believe you saw leaving.”Thump!A figure emerged from the bushes and hit Jarken over the head, rendering him unconscious.

“Ray!”exclaimed Kayato, “We thought you were dead!”

“Ah, Guy got killed, poor man, and I started a machine-gun battle with ’em, ’till I was near the end o’ my bullets. Problem was, there was only one of ’em left, but he was willing to sit there all night , so I played dead and he went away to hsi boss thinking I’m dead, anyway: well, well, well, we’ve got Flitch’s son ‘ere, should be fine picking to bargin with, ‘specially with the rest o’ the world being under the Nazis and those Al-Qaeda, knew we should never of trusted’em.”said Ray excited at his catch.

“Quick, guys, I can hear those Nazis Jarken was on about a minute ago. Let’s get into the house and find some weapons.”

“’Thinking lady!”said Newman as they hurried into the house.

As a car stopped at the drive and 10 men all armed with sub machine-guns got out, the others had holed themselves up in two windows facing the drive. Kayato and Achunko in one and Newman and Ray in the other. Jarken Flitch was bound and gagged under the bed in the Asuko’s room.

As soon as the Nazis realised something was wrong they loaded their weapons. Jarken was meant to meet them outside the gate. So, naturally they decided to check the house. Kayato and the others did not want a huge fire fight so they had decided not to blast them while they were still in the garden but to pick them off as they came into the rooms. Kayato, in her room could hear the Nazis searching other rooms. Then suddenly gun shots. Newman’s room had been searched and the intruders repelled viciously by the pair of defenders. However the remaining 8 or so decided to grenade the room. An urgent radio message from Ray signified this. Kayato knew she had to do something. Searching her room hurriedly she found a coil of rope. She told her idea to Achunko who agreed. Then she radioed Newman, explaining it. Leaning out of the window she threw one end of the rope to Ray, who caught it and tied it taught. Suddenly an explosion rocked the house. Ray had started climbing the tight rope along to Kayato but he had thought of a better idea. He dropped onto the lower window sill and onto the ground. Then, cradling his gun he ran inside. Meanwhile, Newman’s door had blasted open. Kayato knew it was too late for him. Fierce gunning could be heard and then silence. Thud. Kayato looked out of the window and saw Newman on the grass dead with a pool of blood draining into the ground. Then suddenly everything happened at once. A police van drew in through the drive and twenty or so officers ran into the house guns at the ready. Achunko grabbed Kayato and they rushed out of the door. Across the landing they could see the Nazis. Down the stairs were the police. Then everyone had had enough of creeping around and every gun started firing. Achunko took a shot to the shoulder. Kayato killed at least three Nazis while the police hid behind cover, cowardly blasting the staircase apart. The air filled with smoke. Achunko and Kayato slid down a drain pipe into the garden where they found a startled Ray.

“What on Earth happened in. . .?”Bang. A shot form the window. It hit Ray in the arm, who screamed in pain. There, in the window was a police officer, shouting hands up. They all dropped their guns.

“Stay there and lie down!” they lay down as the officer trained his gun on them. Then something odd happened. There was a strange whistling noise and then the police officer fell backwards into the room.

“Darts never fail!”said Ray, revealing an anaesthetic dart shooter on his arm. Gunshots were still being heard from the house.

“To the car, quick!”said Achunko. As the car drove away from the gun fight which was still raging they noticed headlights in the distance. Parking the car in the shadows they hid behind a bush and watched the vehicle get closer and closer. It was obviously in some state of emergency. Two armoured jeeps with mounted machine-guns whizzed past. They did not notice the poorly concealed car lurking in the shadows. In an hour or so they were back in the shabby house stuffing themselves with food hungrily.

“We’ve gotta be back in the Pacific by tomorrow. A plane will come and pick us up to take us back to HQ. Gosh I need a break. Turn the radio on Kayato!”said Achunko, “it was certainly a pity to lose Bob and Guy!” The radio crackled into life.

“. . .speed limits are down to 50km on highway 30. Last night, police raided a house a mile away from Harrisburg after reports of gunshots from local residents. A fierce gun battle ensued. Radio Harrisburg are sorry to have to report that 5 police officers died and 3 are critically injured with 7 sporting minor injuries. The police were attacked by Nazis who are suspected to be part of a wider movement who. . .”Ray turned the radio off and said,

“Huh, who cares, did you know they identified Jarken Flitch correctly. The FBI are chuffed I expect. Hey, ‘Chunk old boy, d’ya reckon we’ll ever get the world back from Al Qaeda and the Nazis. You can’t tell whose side anyone’s on. There’s the Flitch Nazis, the Berlin Nazis and blimming Al-Qaeda. Anyway, all Colon-X operatives are being recalled to base for a briefing on what they call the final mission. They think we can finish the Nazis off with one swipe. I think it’ll be the Heinrich bloke who gets the chop first!”

“What d’ya mean?”said Achunko lazily.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re gonna assassinate Braun first, then Flitch and finally Kunan Bin Izra.”said Ray excitedly.

“You really think that would be possible?”started Kayato. “Listen, everywhere apart from America is in Nazi or Al-Qaeda’s hands bar the few European countries that are still resisting. Africa is run by Bin Izra as is the Middle East. Europe is a gonna. Australia too. I can’t see what anyone can do about it. Everyone’s got hard feeling for the Aussies anyway, ‘cos they invaded Britain. The only way I can see of us getting the world back to normal is by turning the Nazis against Al Qaeda and eventually they’ll kill each other off.”

“Everyone, you forget that Hans Flitch is hiding somewhere cooking his evil plans up and that there is a high chance that there is an American Reich which was being led by Jarken Flitch. No where is safe. They could nuke us. Even use those plasma bombs again. But I don’t think they want to. They want complete control over the world. A world that has people.”

“True!”admitted Ray. “Everything hangs in the balance. We have to do this final mission in good time or America will fall. They can’t hold out for ever. The final assault on the US hasn’t started yet. They have prepared every kind of defence they can think of. But in time, America will fall, unless we hit ’em hard soon”!

“Well said!”agreed Achunko.

“Mmm. . .”mumbled Kayato thoughtfully.

– – –

Hans Flitch was in North America. In the Chichuahuan Desert to be precise. He was at the rocket site. He had earlier that week received intelligence telling him that the Von Austel was planning to attack and destroy Magadan with its long range plasma cannons. With the change of sides of the Von Austel came the Berlin cell’s knowing of the location of his secret base. It was only a matter of time before they came and dealt with him. He had no defence suitable to destroy the Von Austel and so he had decided to take flight rather than fight in a futile way. The planning of Operation Crater had been difficult. How were you meant to build the world’s biggest space shuttle without being desert. For this reason he had created an underground base in the middle of a huge desert. He had created the shuttle to supply for 3000 men for 10 years. Hopefully by then he would be sufficiently powerful enough to return to the Earth and conquer it again. Yes, it may be a far-fetched way to go into hiding but it was fool proof. No one would try and get him off the moon because of the defences he would build. To have enough food in one place for 3000 men for 10 years is quite a remarkable achievement but to build a big enough space shuttle was extraordinary. In 5 minutes, half the Chichuahuan Desert would open up and a shuttle the size of Chicago would fly into the air and out into space.

5 minutes later the space shuttle lifted off for the moon. Radios went crazy reporting it. Special newspapers were published. Hans Flitch had left the Earth.

End of Part 2

Part 3 is being written at the moment 🙂


Posted by on July 31, 2011 in Action, Future, History, War