CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Pawn to King four.

Joseph Proctor slowly looked around the office in what could only be disappointment. Today was Sukoloff’s funeral and nobody, apart from him and Henn seemed in the slightest bit perturbed. Tzavros and Steele were heads together laughing over some private joke. Bayfield had walked through whistling and Tretow made a brief appearance only to say, "Yo, morning, guys. Nice day for it." Then he had left humming some tuneless melody.
    Proctor sighed as he watched Henn going through his usual routine on auto-pilot, the daily business of PIA had to continue regardless of how they felt. After so long without one hint of trouble, three deaths had been reported in and around New York from wasp stings. Panic was beginning to creep into the hearts of the authorities. Scientists and entomologists were working together to determine if some deadly new strain of killer wasp had evolved and how to cope with the situation should it worsen. Henn had his scientists working on the problem, trying to find some antidote or inoculation to the sting.
    Then there was Professor Sprecville, who remained in his child like stupor no matter what drug they used to try and reverse it. Tzavros was supposedly working on that problem, but had achieved no success.
    The biggest enigma was that of the impostor and the curious disappearance of his body. What made this so much of a dilemma was that the morgue was a restricted area and only top personnel had access to it. There was the possibility of yet another infiltration, perhaps another cloning.
    Then there was the madness spray and everyone in some way seemed affected, mostly Bayfield with his incoherent nonsensical sentences. Klyne was the latest victim, proudly walking around telling of his miraculous escape, but luckily omitting the superman chapter. He would have to be kept an eye on, an experience of that magnitude would effect the hardest of men. Most worrying of all, was that PIA’s controller had been affected. Proctor knew that in reality he should report the matter so Henn could have enforced leave. This was not his nature, instead he had decided to dally just a while longer in New York to secretly watch the situation.
    "Take over from me, Joseph. I need to go and say goodbye," said Henn sadly.

Henn slowly walked into the rest-room and stood dazed. This could not be happening, all those years they had thought they had been prepared for it, after all death was an occupational hazard. Had they even thought about it or were they just two young men living it up. Was anybody ready for that final show-down?
    He stood near to the shiny ebony coffin with its half lid risen. The white quilted silk lining only enhanced the false painted pink of his friends usually so pallid face. Henn smiled at the dark suit and the straightness of the tie.
    "For once you look smart, old friend. Quite a-la-mode and you were right, it doesn’t suit you at all." He blinked as he remembered the good times they’d had together and Sukoloff’s rule of never say die—don’t care or say goodbye. He had kept to those rules even after death. His last will and testament simple read, "To Alex Henn, I leave everything that was mine."
    Henn touched the cold face and sighed. "OK, Vacily, your rules. No goodbyes. Wherever you are, live it up a bit. But don’t catch all the lovely angels, leave some for a friend."

Henn sat solemnly next to Proctor in the large black limo. In front of them was the hearse containing Sukoloff’s remains and behind one more car. Henn turned around and frowned, one car? It had been the same at the church, with the only mourners being the occupants of this one car behind them.
    As they stood at the open grave Henn could take no more. "This is disgusting, I expected this place to be crowded. Where’s everyone from Pia? Where’s all the ladies that supposedly adored him?"
    "Who made all the announcements?"
    "I left all the arrangements in Peter Steele’s hands. I ordered a large obituary for the newspaper and one for our notice board. Was Vacily so cold that nobody cares, or is it just me that feels this hurt?... Just look at them!" He was pointing to the only other so called mourners.
    Dressed in a maroon jacket and brown trousers Tzavros looked surprisingly smart, but as usual minus a tie and leaning against a tree. Steele stood next to him pointing at a provocative angel on a nearby grave. He was dressed more for a party than a funeral, with a light grey suit and inappropriate jazzy tie. Bayfield was smiling again and also minus a tie while Tretow was seeing how far he could throw a stone.
    "I thought they’d be some reaction from them. Maybe we’ve just trained them to be unfeeling. Do you know what happened when I told Jodie? I said, I’m sorry but Vacily is dead, she turned around and smiled then said, ‘I know, but I don’t mind,’ then walked off."
    Proctor was beginning to look angry as a laugh drifted across from Steele and he signaled him to join them. "Steele, I hate to ask but you did make all the arrangements did you not?"
    Steele looked from Henn to Proctor and smiling said, "I made the arrangements. Did you know he wanted a party and not tears? He really doesn’t need this, you’ll see."
    Proctor watched in horror as he walked away, nobody knew about Sukoloff’s death. They had counted without the madness spray and it affecting their chief enforcement officer to the extent he thought funerals were unimportant.
    "He’s right you know," Henn chuckled. "This would have annoyed him. Too much damn emotion he’d have said. Right, just one more job then we can hopefully get back to normal." Dropping a chess piece wordlessly on top of the coffin, he turned away.

Sukoloff propped himself up on one elbow and smiled down at the dozing figure, he wondered just how many people could do this, laze around loving and living on the day they were buried. Then he sighed, today meant the end of a dream, now everyone would know about his death and he would no longer be able to walk about freely. Soon he would have nowhere to live and no money. If he had just managed to talk to Henn. Eventually he might have convinced him that he was far from dead, now it was too late.
    He started at the slight noise and woke Jodie. "Someone’s in the apartment."
    "So soon? I thought we’d have the rest of the day... No, of course not. Alex would want to get this over with."
    "Quick, get under the bed!"
    As Henn entered the small apartment he breathed deeply. "There it is again! It smells like snow!"
    "Yes, sometimes I smell that, something in the air maybe or an air-condition fault. Let us get on, I abhor this."
    Henn breathed hard as he looked around. A photo of Jodie took pride of place on a sideboard and two glasses had been left half full. Henn smiled as he saw the chess board with its pieces still waiting for the big finish. He touched one of the pawns and reminisced over that match, this had been the last game they had played together. It had been an exceptional game, lasting many days and Henn knew he was winning.
    "Right, Queen’s Knight to King’s Bishop five.... Take Knight. Alex!... Would you accept a draw?"
    "Have you seen the board? I have the greatest advantage in strength and position. I suggest you resign."
    "No, I have a draw."
    Henn had smiled smugly. "Queen to King’s Bishop four... Take Knight.... Check, Vacily."
    "King to King’s Knight two."
    "Resign, old friend, because I’ve got you. Go out gracefully... No? So be it... Queen to King’s Bishop seven... Check."
    Sukoloff had answered immediately. "King to King’s Knight one." That had been the last move he had made.
    "You should have resigned, Vacily," sighed Henn.
    Henn looked closely at the board and smiled, the black King was still on the board! This morning he had removed it—this afternoon he had dropped it onto Sukoloff’s coffin.
    Proctor could only sigh as Henn quietly spoke. "OK, my friend, we’ll finish the game if you want it so badly. Bishop to King’s Rook six."
    "What did you expect to happen? Do you want me to move the piece for him?"
    "Only he would know where the next move was to be and he was losing. He hated losing, against me anyway. If he was here he’d bang the table and sulk, then start a new game."
    The phones impatient ringing made them both jump, then they listened as the answer-phone clicked on. "Hi, I know you in there so don’t pretend you not. Pick it up, Vacily. Come on, this Zav. OK, so you not in there. It not over you know. Steele has given you little extra time to talk Sepia Two into joining team. Tomorrow be too late and you can’t quit on us now. As temporally leader of Sepia I hereby call meeting for tomorrow morning in Lab One. We need you."
    "This is going too far," said Proctor. "We have to inform all the group that we have some kind of madness."
    "Damn, there goes Pia, but you’re right, Joseph. We’ll do it in the morning. Come on let’s go before I really am convinced that glass was half full when we arrived, when it was empty all the time."

Henn was in the office early in the morning going over and over various reports, mostly what he had briefly written at the time about Bayfield and his mad ramblings. The photos, oh God, the photos. Tzavros’ secret codes, Sepia Five this is Sepia Three. Tretow’s communications wire—the impostor—the KIJAC captives—his experiences and Klyne’s escape.
    As the young agents came in for their daily orders he looked through everything very carefully. The magazine on Class Ones, the photos. This was not true, it could not be true.
    "Alex, do we call an investigation."
    "Have I got it, Joseph? The madness?"
    "I think so, maybe I have as well with the things I have been thinking. You because of the voices you hear. Me because of the things I think."
    "Dr Taylor, come to my office please," said Henn into the intercom. then he began to laugh loudly. "No way, not in a million years will I do that."
    Proctor frowned and Klyne, Galloway and Dwire looked up as Henn leapt up and ran to the chess board.
    "Is it more voices?"
    Henn was looking closely at the board. "No voices. I found a piece of paper on the table. I thought it was from you, or maybe Tzavros. I thought you were all trying to humour me. But I don’t know!"
    "Humour you? About what?"
    "About the chess game. You all knew how much I wanted this game to be finished and the paper says, resign Alex." He sat down then immediately jumped up again. "Another piece of paper and the smell of snow. Oh, look at this! What kind of move is that? Certainly not one of the Russian’s. Maybe Steele’s. Rook to King eight, PTO" As he slowly moved the piece he turned the page.

Check... Mate, my friend.

Proctor gave a choked laugh as he looked at Henn’s face. "It is Check Mate. You left your King behind three Pawns. He would have known all along that he could get you and obviously, so did someone else."
    Henn stormed back to the table and again pressed the intercom. "This is your controller. Would all Sepia agents report to my office immediately."
    Dwire and Galloway watched the door expectantly, wondering what a SEPIA Agent was. After ten minutes and no appearance, Henn tried again. "Would the Sepia team vacate Lab One and come to my office now."
    Only Dr Taylor entered the office and he said worriedly, "Have we a problem, Alex?"
    "We have several cases of what could be madness or... " Henn passed him a file. "Well... Read that will you, then tell me your thoughts on the subject. Mine and many others future might just be in the balance." Then again he shouted into the intercom. "This is your controller and I demand that we hold a Sepia meeting this instant, otherwise the team will be disbanded."
    Dwire grinned and watched the door, this base was much more interesting than London. This time, the sound of the rising anger in their controller caused a reaction and Bayfield arrived with his head down and hands in pockets.
    "Ah, Mr Bayfield. Sit down please." Although he obeyed, he twitched nervously. Henn winked at Proctor and looked at his watch. "The others are very late aren’t they, Mr Bayfield. And here’s Mr Tretow! The communications inventor, or are you a remote viewer?"
    "No sir? I’m a..."
    "Silence man. You are a member of Sepia and are number Five. Bayfield is your newest member at number Six. Am I right?"
    Tretow nodded subduedly and threw a warning look at Tzavros and Steele as they entered.
    "Good, my so called top agents. Sit please. Mr Tzavros, as you are acting leader of Sepia, you will do all the talking and I want no interruptions from any other member. Let me start by telling you what I know of this group.
    "Sepias take on the most difficult and dangerous missions. They are going by the same principals as Pia, but have not received any clearance. Therefore they are not part of Pia. It is against all rules to be a member of any other counter organisation and all who do, face dismissal from Pia. You have your own code; your own communications; a separate leader. Not one thing is connected with us. All of you here have at some stage helped a member suspected of being in counter intelligence. Worse, suspected of being a member of Kijac without informing me of your suspicions. Now questions, Mr Tzavros only please. How many have you recruited into this Special team?"
    Tzavros was running his hand through his fair hair and he tried wording something to Tretow. "Mr Tzavros?" shouted Henn. "Your answer please."
    "Eight, Sir, only four need concern you."
    "I am the one to tell you if it concerns me or not," shouted Henn thumping the table. "Names, numbers and their job with the team."
    Tzavros stuttered a bit and the inevitable accent appeared. "Sir, Niet, telling to you members I can’t."
    "Mister, do you still wish to be a member of this organisation?" shouted Henn again banging his fist on the table.
    Tzavros was blinking too quickly and began biting his lip. "Zav, you have permission to go with all apart from Sepia Thirty and Thirty One."
    "Mr Tretow, would you and your interrupting device keep quiet. Mr Tzavros, I’m waiting."
    He slowly began, but kept his eyes on Tretow the whole time. "I tell to you this, I Sepia Four, with workings on science and operations. Mr Steele is Three, he operations leader, because he trained that way. Mr Tretow is Five and main communications, because he invent wire. Mr Bayfield is Six and operations, because, well, just because. We active members and form ground crew. That it."
    "Continue, Mister, in English."
    "That what I speaking in. Maria Tretow is outside communications and liaisons officer. Because she outside. She not Pia. One other lady is ground crew, because she can’t fly. One medical officer who you not to know. Becau..."
    "Stop this! Stop the stupid game of pretending you can’t speak English. All my agents are proficient at languages. I speak perfect Russian..."
    "Da, you speak Roos-kiy like Steele speaks German."
    "Steele can’t speak German."
    "Exactly!"
    "Mister Tzavros! The two anonymous members, are they Pia?"
    "Yes, but non-active and we have to protect them both. Even if team becomes recognised by Pia, one will not be known as Sepia or attend meetings unless you yourself approve."
    "OK, that leaves Sepia One whom I presume is your leader and Sepia Two." Henn said scowling. "Who are they?"
    Tzavros looked around the room, then at Tretow who shook his head. "Sepia Two is reserved place for someone who we hoped would be invited into team. But you have no more worries as our leader has quit and without him there can be no team."
    "Quit did he? I see. Mr Tretow, are you wired up?"
    "Yes, Sir, but he’s not talking at the moment. He’s a bit worried about the feed back problem that we have. But he did say that it would be better if he quits as he just doesn’t know how to explain the birth of the Sepia team. He also said that he doesn’t want any of his men punished for this. That the team was a good idea with the very best agents in it and Pia needs them."
    For the first time a smile played across Henn’s lips as he spoke. "I think I’d better talk to him don’t you? Pass me the wire." Four quite audible gasps could be heard and Henn nodded. "I take it that is a no! Dr Taylor, have you an opinion yet?"
    "Incredible as this seems, the evidence points to your conclusion. I haven’t had any recent psychiatric reports on you, but in my opinion you are sane and I would dearly love to meet the leader of the Sepia team."
    "Would somebody enlighten me on just what is going on?"
    "In just a minute, Joseph. Mr Tretow, call your leader. In that infernal code if you must."
    Tretow glanced at the others then called out loud so that everyone understood, "Sepia One this is Sepia Five... Meeting being held to disband your team... Please attend... If you must then use D Mode... We do not wish to end team."
    Everyone waited expectantly, then Tretow shook his head. "Nothing, Sir, it might be because we are holding a Special meeting with non-Sepias present."
    "All non-Sepias clear the office please." Nobody moved until Henn shouted. "Misters, are you a member of Pia’s Special division? Then please leave this instant. Trixie, I’m sorry but that includes you. I think Dr Taylor and Joseph should stay if there no objections."
    "I don’t know, if we got to say meaning of team then I think only you," sighed Tzavros.
    "Mr Proctor would have to stay. I mean... Well he would wouldn’t he? We also need a surgeon as well as our own medical adviser. I propose they stay." Tzavros nodded at Bayfield’s suggestion and as Dwire, Galloway and Klyne reluctantly left, Tretow put out another call.
    After another ten minutes of silence, Henn began tapping the table impatiently. "Your leader is shy isn’t he."
    "He’s had a bad time. You just wouldn’t believe what he’s been through," said Steele.
    "I think I would, the worse time of his life, yet maybe the best. OK, try this." Henn passed Tretow a paper. "Use your wire and tell him that."
    Tretow frowned and looked worriedly at the others. "I don’t understand, Sir?"
    "Send."
    Tretow bit his lip and rubbed his large nose. "OK, here goes. Last game invalid. You’re a cheat. New game... Pawn to King four."
    The door slid open and a furious Sukoloff stormed in and slammed his fist on the table. "Never do I cheat. You lose. Check Mate it was and I won. Pawn to King four... My friend."
    Henn was grinning widely, Taylor was laughing and Proctor was shaking his head and frowning. "Vacily? Then who did we bury?... The one who was killed, was he your double?... Then who was the one who died in debriefing... Are you the one who was with Dwire?... What has happened?... Why did you not tell us that you knew you had been replicated?... Why make us all think that you were dead?... Did you suspect one of us?... Did...."
    "Let him speak first," said Henn finally managing to interrupt. "He’s got quite a story to tell. Vacily, am I Sepia Two?"
    "You know don’t you? You’ve known all the time. I couldn’t tell you and you knew."
    "No I didn’t, or maybe I did. It was the photo, that’s what finally made me think that if anybody was going to do the impossible then one smart Russian would be the one to try. Welcome home, my friend."
    Sukoloff was smiling now as relief washed over him but Taylor was wide eyed and flushed with excitement. "Vacily, please tell us how, there’s so much I must know. Can I please take your pulse, I must see if there’s any difference."
    "Sorry you can’t, I don’t appear to own one. Oh, you’re wondering about the physical, we will give you access to our notes on how that was done. Small cheat though, it’s Zav’s chest X-ray. You can take one of me later but what you see on it doesn’t effect my fitness. That I assure you, is good, the survival test was my own work, as Alex knew, with important things, never do I cheat."
    Henn interrupted again. "But you did, you cheated death."
    Proctor was becoming jittery now. "What are we going on about? How did you cheat death?"
    "Always remember that I didn’t cheat death. Something happened to give me extra time. I could be snatched back at any time. Death for me is just as inevitable as it is for you. The body you buried yesterday was me. I died, you could say I missed the celestial train. My x-ray will show the damage the bullet did. I’m sorry but I don’t like to talk about the actual moment that it hit. I am ghost."
    Proctor jumped to his feet and shouted. "Ghost! Dead! Oh, come on don’t you all realise what is happening here. It is some kind of drug that makes us believe in the impossible. Oh, I admit it, I have thought the same things, smelt the same strange smell that is always about when he is. I have not heard the voices. Be realistic, look at him, does he look like a ghost? Or does he look like a perfectly healthy individual?"
    Henn was starting to look very proud but it was Tzavros who spoke. "We all thought we mad. Especially when he rescued us in D Mode. When he does that, then only Tret and Gent know he around. Tret is the one who talk to him. You, Mr Henn, can hear him hence voices. Proctor wasn’t convinced. "Then you are not who you say. Alex, think will you, try and clear your mind, ghosts do not exist."
    Taylor passed over the magazine. "Just read that, then look at the photo. Alex had a small section blown up so that you can really see. I believe it and I’m not mad. Tzavros, I’m sorry but I also know your secret member. Such a brilliant mind wasted because the likes of me thought his theorems were madness. I think now he has nothing to worry about and will help me to learn more."
    Proctor snatched at the magazine and began to read, then he flicked to the photo. Class Two photographed at the moment of death in New York. It showed Tanen kneeling next to a bloodstained body. Kneeling with him was a shadowy but recognisable figure looking straight into the camera. In his hand he held a reddened card. Proctor looked at the blow up of the transparent hand and the clear writing on the card, PIA Vacily Sukoloff. He began to laugh. "It is some kind of forgery, it is superimposed."
    Henn passed him some more showing Sukoloff and KIJAC, the wide lens had picked him up. In a tree, two seconds later in another tree, another click of the lens and he was laying flat under the bench, just minutes later he was on Fifth Avenue with Jodie and seen by Proctor.
    Proctor again tried with the superimposed trick photography and so Tretow suggested. "Try D Mode, or slow vertical lift."
    "What is this D Mode?"
    Sukoloff looked smugly at Henn and vanished. Both Proctor and Henn gasped then stood open mouthed. "Where did he go? Oh, I am not sure I like this at all. Alex, is he still here?"
    Henn was laughing but more like a child who is not that sure if it was Santa Clause who had brought all the gifts. Proctor backed up as Sukoloff walked through a wall, then floated upwards, somersaulted and floated down again.
    "Believe me yet? Or shall I do something else?"
    "Not in my office you don’t, shall we go for a drink? I think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, you can still drink can’t you? Yes of course because I saw that glass move in your apartment."
    Proctor had sat down now. "You are dead! You are really dead?"
    "That's what they tell me."
    "Why did you pose for the camera?"
    "Difficult, I don't understand it myself. At the moment of my death I heard a voice. He told me how to think myself solid and to think myself to another place. I still don't know who this person is but he told me that my destiny was to save Pia and much more. He told me that if something happened in front of a mortal that telling them to forget would remove their memory. It worked with Tanen and Bird but not with Tretow, plus I keep forgetting to tell people to forget. I saw the photographer and held up my card, I didn't think he saw me, but as we have learnt, the camera did."
    "I think Henn is right, a drink is needed."
    "Am I still an active agent, Alex?"
    "Yes, Vacily, and leader of a very Special team that both me and Pia are proud to be a part of."