Peter Steele silently stood in the murky alleyway and watched shadows dance around the walls of the adjoining buildings. He knew it must be around 2pm, but down here in these alleys time seemed to stand still and it could, to all intents, have been twelve hours later.
    Startled by the vision of a ten feet long cat as it flashed up before him his heart thumped in his chest. Its call strangely amplified as it bounced off the walls and echoed in and around the trashcans until it had reached an eardrum bursting pitch. He cursed his nervousness as a tiny cat with a small yowl walked past him towards the larger one. Doing so caused the giant shadow to shrink until eventually it became the normal sized shadow of a tiny street cat.
    "Steele!" shouted Tzavros touching him on the shoulder. With adrenaline risen by his encounter with the giant cat, Steele swung round with his fists raised.
    "Wow, jumpy aren’t we? What up?... Oh, you not sit up all by yourself and watching late night horror? You know how this effects you. Next time, keep on lights and hold girlfriend’s hand."
    "Thanks, Zav, now let’s give this place a look over."
    Steele began checking the walls wishing a giant hole would appear to swallow him into its depths, but hoping it would swallow Tzavros by mistake. His revenge came shortly as Tzavros crawling around on the ground ran across some potent urine. By the time its offensive odor had reached Tzavros’s nostrils it had already seeped through his trousers to his knees. Curses rang choicely around the alley as, having leapt up in disgust, Steele mentioned he had smelled urine in that part of the alley earlier and so had avoided searching there.
    The search continued in stony silence, though only for a short while. Only a few minutes later Tzavros’s flashlight picked out the red splashes of the vagrant’s blood on the cobbles, then he yelled in triumph. "Look this, Pia issue lighter."
    "Drop it did you?"
    "No, this not mine. Not yours. Is somebody’s from Pia. One or more our agents was here. Nobody said they was here. Why would they not say so? Unless they don’t want us to know about being here. Whoever fingerprint is on it, is our man. Or might be woman, right?"
    "Well I might have more than that," said Steele grinning. "There are blood stains on the wall right here with one beee-utiful hand print. If he is an Pia agent then we’ll have his fingerprints on record."
    A bullet slammed into the wall just behind Steele who instinctively dove for cover, closely followed by Tzavros who luckily avoided any puddles, at all. Then both men opened fire at the orange muzzle flashes ahead of them in the gloom that revealed the extent of the armory attacking them.
    Dryly Steele commented, "that’s a lot of guns out there. Maybe we’ve found out something we shouldn’t have."
    "Tzavros… Um, Is code what?"
    "Alpha for Christ’s sake!"
    "Is what I said. Tzavros, Code Alpha, emergency link to mission control," said Tzavros quickly into his Communicator. If they had found out something important then whoever’s’ army was shooting at them was not going to get it.
          "We have situation and Steele he says, help!" While he awaited an answer the question of who was missing a lighter searched through his mind.
    They made a run for the cover of the large metal trashcans at the far end of the alley as the enemy closed in on them. Then they heard it! At first a thump inside one of the trashcans, then closely followed by an unearthly yowl. The KIJAC agents also heard it and stopped firing to stand and look in the direction of the noise. The very air itself was shaken by another unearthly yowling that this time was much deeper—louder—angry and demonic.    

Without warning a large trashcan lid took off and landed, still spinning, in the middle of the alley. Moments later the entire contents of the trashcan, bottles, tin cans, rotting vegetables and the odd confused rat erupted suddenly and flew up the alley towards the KIJAC men.
    The lid began to move again, only slightly at first, then after picking up speed it span and hovered in mid-air shortly before it too set off towards the beleaguered KIJAC men. Seconds later another bottle that seemed to originate from nowhere was seen to be waving from side to side while slowly moving up the alley at a height of about three feet. Terrified screeches came from the retreating KIJAC men and one man in particular began to shout hysterically.
    "Look!... Oh, God!... Look I tell you. Don’t you see?"
    "There’s two of them!"
    "It’s a trick, shoot," cried another.
    "Shoot who?" asked someone else. The question caused utter pandemonium. Many agitated voices began talking at once, some because they could see someone and others because they could not, finally, one voice carried further than the others and was heard clearly.
    "It’s that Pia agent we bumped off yesterday."
    With that, the alley suddenly became KIJAC-less and as the bottle span unseen and silently onto the top of a full trashcan, two shaking PIA men stood up.
    "Vot that vos?" inquired a shaking Tzavros.
    A harsh laugh came from Steele before he whispered, "Zav, I was hoping you weren’t going to ask that. Have we lost an agent?"
    "Yes, what’s-a-name in level 4 and Vinton, why?"
    "Lord, do you believe in ghosts? I mean... I mean... I don’t know what I mean. Oh, you know what I mean, don’t you?"
    Tzavros nodded his head, then changed his mind and shook it as he stuttered, "No! No... No, I don’t ghosts believes in. No, do I now? I do now, no?" He looked up and down then gasped. "Reports, how we are putting this in our reports?"
    "How about a brave little wine bottle chased Kijac away helped by a self motivated trashcan lid." said Steele sarcastically.
    "Funny man, da I see it now. Nice Pia home for prematurely retired and distressed agents here we come."
    Agents Bird and Tanen arrived in the back-up car and ran up looking more than slightly disappointed at the lack of action.
    "Battle over? Phew it stinks a bit. I’m glad we don’t have to crawl around in this."
    A subdued Tzavros called in to Henn informing him of their find. They waited until Bird and Tanen drove off then took one more look down the alley. Dancing shadows still played along the broken brickwork but now everything looked so quiet and innocent.
    "Steele?" said Tzavros as they slowly drove home.
    "What?"
    "What is disgusting pong?" he asked beginning to cough. "Oh, you didn’t stand in something did you? You and your flat feet."
    Peter Steele threw him a smug look as he spoke. "I thought it was your new after-shave, Zav. It’s just that I’m to much of a gentleman to mention it." A fierce scowl appeared on Tzavros’s face and he half closed one eye that Steele took as a warning he was heading for some retaliation, Russian style and he said no more.

Henn found Sukoloff’s report concerning the day of the massacre on his desk, he picked it up and began to read, apprehensive at the outset, but twitching nervously by the time he had finished

Henn could only tut at the contents of the report, then he frowned. "Sasam? Now what’s that?"
    Before Proctor could answer, Steele and Tzavros entered, immediately everyone in the office backed away.
    "One lighter, Mr. Henn," proclaimed Steele triumphantly. As he reached out his hand the alarms sounded shrilly and the lights echoed their warning notes. Agents with guns at the ready ran alertly into the corridors.
    Once there, Steele looked dumbfounded at an equally dumfounded security guard that was anxiously trying to reset the control panel at his desk. Steele’s authoritarian voice boomed its disapproval. "OK, very funny. Who set off the alarms? And why? Those alarms are for dire emergencies as you know, invasion and suchlike. So, who did it?"
    The large man who oozed negative alertness shrugged his shoulders. "Nobody, Sir," he mumbled. "I’ve been at my post for ages and nobody pushed that button. Sir, it just went off, all by itself."
    Henn, who had arrived amid a bustle of agents, had overheard the guards’ comments and retorted angrily. "That is ridiculous, alarms don’t just go off, at the very least they malfunction. I want maintenance to check all electrical installations immediately." He stormed back into the office and stopped suddenly as his nostrils screeched an urgent warning to his brain. "Mr. Steele, Mr. Tzavros, I suggest you go and get some rest. Be back first thing tomorrow and make your report then. And... If I may make so bold... May I also suggest one or both of you take a long shower, either alone or together, and return both refreshed and in some fresh clothing. The smell in here is not pleasing."
    Irritated, both Steele and Tzavros tramped through the door and out of the office.

The night seemed darker than usual with even the moon herself being uneasy about making an appearance. Consequently, both men were more than slightly apprehensive as they approached the base. Steele, his voice not betraying any sign of nerves, inquired, "Zav, it’s not midnight yet is it?"
    Tzavros answered with a laugh that was sardonic but subdued. "You not scared of imaginary spectral spooks are you? I thought told you about watching silly movies?"
    Steele sighed, he had fully expected some cynical comment and had already prepared his riposte, "No, I’m not, I was worried about you and your, ‘Vot that Vos!’ By the way, have you got any identification on the fingerprints yet?"
    "Not yet. I was busy, tomorrow, maybe."
    Both men then became silent and took to the job in hand. Their perfect working companionship and continuous training became evident. Not a word of instruction was necessary from one to the other as they climbed towards the base, each one knowing by experience exactly what the other was doing. Occasionally however, as when Steele’s feet had slipped yet again on the wet drainpipe, Tzavros would chip in with a choice comment that generally relieved the tension. In this case, the comments concerned his partner’s general lack of either fitness or poise. Steele however, was amply rewarded when Tzavros also slipped on the same drainpipe; his clasped hands and silent look to the heavens provoked a substantial amount of Russian abuse.
    A short while later the two men gained entry and stood in the gloom of what appeared to be a very small room. Suddenly they were temporarily blinded as the room flooded with light.
    Their eyes adjusted and they found themselves facing some ten or so armed men. Steele gave a long groan as he saw the guns pointed at their heads. Finding it rather pointless to offer any resistance, they allowed themselves to be marched off to a much larger room. By fleetingly reconnoitering their new surroundings, Tzavros ascertained this must be the main operations room. It was also obvious that with at least ten armed guards trying to keep them there, escape would prove to be difficult.
    The room although larger than the one in which they had been captured was still small, though it certainly appeared to be well equipped judging by the number of hi-tech computers, printers and consoles flashing and clicking as data was transferred both to and from other bases within the network.
    Their short wait ended when a man dressed in an obvious KIJAC uniform stepped forward, a self satisfied grin stitched onto his adipose red and purple face.
    "Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted them. "I’m so glad you could join us, please sit down." Declining the invitation they were then, for their pains, roughly forced to accept. Harsh ropes soon had them held fast to the chairs as the man continued gleefully. "This is so good, Pia’s two top men and I’ve got them. I’m sure that headquarters will reward me highly for this."
    Steele looked across at his unemotional friend and tried to read his thoughts. As usual, he found it difficult, Tzavros might just as well have been going to a picnic for all the concern he was showing. To accept the inevitable was the Russian’s motto, but not Steele’s, he felt angry and unashamedly he showed it. His anger was mostly at the thought that PIA’s so called finest had been lured into a trap. Anger at what was undoubtedly going to be an exercise in how not to talk when under pressure and anger at what these people had done.
    "I suppose it was you and your playful little group that killed all those innocent people. May we know why?"
    "Wasn’t that good," said the man smiling cruelly. "We got two birds with one stone. Not only with a successful test on the Guardians but the joy of killing one of your longest serving and best agents."
    "Well I hate to be bearer of bad news you grinning braggart. But you didn’t even scratch one our bulb changers let alone one our best," Tzavros said giving one of his finest laughs.
    Before the man could answer a loud shriek came from the corridor and a panic-stricken guard ran in.
    "Out there!..." he shouted hysterically. "Help me! Oh, for God’s sake please help me. My gun... It’s... It’s... Empty!... The wall is full of holes."
    All in the room burst into laughter that was silenced as all the computers simultaneously crashed and the trembling guard began his hysterics again. "See, I told you... Don’t you see?... Oh, you must be able to." He ran to Steele and frantically blubbered. "You see him don’t you?... He was your man... Please help me."    

Steele shook his head unable to see anything where the man was pointing. Then he found himself beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable when smoke began to rise from one of the consoles and Mr. Hysterics continued. "Look! Look! He’s rewiring everything. For goodness sake stop him or he’ll blow it all up." He stopped briefly, put his hands over his ears, and screamed. "What!... No! No! It wasn’t me. Don’t you understand? It wasn’t me." Then he dropped to his knees and said pleadingly. "Look, I’m not that good a shot even if I’d tried. No please! I’m sorry you’re dead but don’t hurt me. I’m sorry." After his outbursts the man collapsed into a whimper and although they could neither see nor hear anything the remainder of those present were distinctly restless as sparks and smoke rose in volumes from the consoles.
    "Ignore it, Zav," said Steele biting his lip. "This is some kind of new torture to force sane Pia men to talk. They’re trying to scare you into thinking Vinton is here." He turned his head to look at the cool, collected Russian, and gasped. Tzavros had turned doughy white and his amber eyes were wide giving him the expression of a very sickly bushbaby. Besides this uncommon expression, he was shaking almost as badly as the unfortunate Mr. Hysterics.
    "You all right?" Steele expected the usual retort and was horrified at the answer.
    "Neit!... This I like no, neit, neit. Somebody right now me with the untying is. Ice for fingers somebody has."
    The sudden return of a strong accent worried Steele and he turned his head to look behind his friend, "Zav, you’re imagining it, there’s nobody behind you. Vinton is dead and the dead stay dead. What’s gotten into you, man, falling for something like this?" Then the rope that had seconds before held his friend’s hands so tightly floated across the room to the fleshy man in the KIJAC uniform who unsurprisingly backed away sharply.
    "See I told you all that it was him," began Mr. Hysterics again as he ran.
    Steele began to kick against his ropes and again looked towards Tzavros who sat as if he were frozen solid. "Zav? I thought you were free? Come on, man, move it, move it. Tzavros! Move man." Steele just couldn’t believe it, the cold-blooded, emotionless Russian, for probably the first time ever was experiencing real fear and showing it. "Wake up, man, are you free?"
    Slowly he turned his head to face Steele and in a voice barely recognizable spoke, "Da, I free. Steele! Someone alive who should be dead, I feel breath!" Both men sat rigidly as fear touched their very souls. The rope continued its dance in the air then went around the blubbery neck above the KIJAC uniform causing the whole ensemble to collapse instantly with fear. The free end of the rope then headed erratically towards Tzavros until its frayed end dangled invitingly in front of him. Steele heard his friend give a choking gasp and watched as his hand moved limply and reluctantly up to the rope. One by one then, his stiff fingers wrapped slowly around it until finally it was in his grasp. Steele gulped loudly as icy fingers began to untie his rope. He felt it part and he jumped up instantly and swung round, to face... Nothing.
    Steele helped his friend to stand and removed the rope from his stiff hand, then he removed the rope from the captive’s neck. All sign of boastful bragging had by now long since left him and he stared strangely and vacantly into space and offered no resistance. The computers meanwhile gave one more gushing splutter of sparks.
    Wordlessly Steele searched the building, for some reason none of the other KIJAC men had stayed for the party and all he found of any importance was one computer printout.

From agent X20. Raid on building C expected tonight.

    "I’d better call into Henn... Steele, code... What’s today’s code?"
    "Omega."
    "That was last week... I remember... Steele, code Alpha, link to Mr. Henn please."
    "Which code is that, Mr. Steele?"
    "You know which code it is. Sorry, Trixie, Beta."
    "Mr. Steele? This is Henn. Base is on alert, as you know. Please stick to the codes given to you. Today is Omega. Have you anything to report?"
    Steele blinked and looked up as the moon decided it was safe enough for her to appear. Anything to report!? Oh yes, he had plenty to report, but how was he going to report it?
    "Er, yes, Sir, it looks like we were expected but we have a captive and I doubt if we’ll get any more trouble from this base, Sir."