CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Henn sat back contentedly in his chair and smiled, the madness that had affected his men had vanished overnight and everything appeared to have returned to normal. He was amazed at how quickly he himself came to terms with Sukoloff’s condition and how, after such a short time, took it for granted. Unless, that was, something occurred which abruptly reminded him. Like the time Sukoloff hitched a lift in his car, missed the front seat and landed heavily on the hood, leaving the now too familiar Sukoloff identity stamp.
    Kurt Tzavros worked almost continuously in Lab One, firstly trying to find a drug that would make Professor Sprecville talk and secondly to find the antidote for the wasp’s sting. Though now, an attack on a wasp guarded KIJAC base would not involve threatening the lives of PIA agents. Once the base had been located the SEPIA special pilot would be assigned to that particular job. Tzavros also spent time with his experiments on Sukoloff, taking brain waves; checking for extra magnetism; looking for anything that was slightly out of the ordinary. Fundamentally, learning the make up of a Class One.
    Henn was horrified to learn that the Russians shared the same blood group and they had undertaken a transfusion to see how Tzavros reacted to Class One blood. Despite the presence of many non SEPIA agents Henn loudly shouted. "Never do something so stupid again. I don’t want all my agents suddenly floating instead of walking."
    Sukoloff broke his train of thought by calmly walking out of the office washroom.
    "How many times do I have to tell you to use the conventional way of entering my office."
    "Which way that is?"
    "Try using the main door. My agents think you have a very nasty case of the jiffy tummies."
    "Why?"
    "Well, think about it, Vacily, you’re always going in the john and not coming out for hours. Or we’ll be in the middle of a meeting and you come out, but nobody can remember you going in. Use the normal elevator for a change."
    "You know I have difficulty with that. I can’t seem to gauge the speed right and my feet drop through the floor. I think that might cause just a bit of panic if someone else got in to find me stood on my ankles. No, I’ll use my own personal elevators. Fly from my apartment to reception washroom; pick up my card; back to the washroom to here or Lab One. Very quick, you should try it."
    Henn smiled, yes he had been in the elevator whilst Sukoloff had been practising. The elevator came to a sudden, unexpected halt and Sukoloff had not, instead he had disappeared, leaving only his feet poking through the ceiling. Yes, it had been most off putting.
    "How is the lovely Jodie?"
    His blue eyes flashed as he answered. "You should know, she spends more time with you and Trixie or with her brother and father than with me."
    "One night a week she’s with Trixie, one with us all when you and I play chess, one night with her family and the rest of the time she’s with you."
    "She’s never with me."
    "Most mornings you’re both in late because you can’t bear to be apart. What do you want from the girl? Her to be with you every minute of the day?"
    "Yes."
    "You don’t own her, Vacily. Does she even know how you feel about her?"
    "Of course she does, I just think we should spend more time together."
    "Every minute of the day?" Henn said twitching to prevent a laugh. "Not bothering to work or see anybody else? My friend, you have been struck down. You’re in love, real love and she doesn’t even know."
    "Of course she knows."
    "Do you tell her? Or take her flowers? Do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl in the world or is it the same no emotion which you use on everyone?"
    "Leave it, Alex, she knows, flowers indeed." Sukoloff moved uncomfortably in his chair and added, "I’m Russian, not French."
    A wide grin spread across Henn’s face and he lowered his head as he spoke. "The problem is that you’re not busy enough, so I’ve found you a job. You can go on a stakeout with Klyne."
    "Stake out?" he said squinting angrily. "Me?... That’s boring, get Jade Bird to do it."
    "She has the flu, again."
    "Tanen, he’s over concussion."
    "And missed so much of his training that he’s going to re-start. Don’t forget that Klyne’s only a junior and not qualified to take out trainees. You’re perfect for the job... Vacily! Use the door! Oh, forget it." Henn sighed as again Sukoloff headed for the washroom and the elevator to the car-park.

Sukoloff lowered the car window and looked up at the sky. A storm was growing in magnificence and made him yearn for the freedom of flight. To indulge in the pure enchantment of gliding silently through the electrically charged clouds and to hear the immense roar of the thunder as lightning discharged across the sky. Klyne, who had other thoughts, was continually shattering his daydream with incessant idle patter.
    They were watching a small group of claustrophobic houses within a large quadrangle when suddenly from one of these ran two men. Sukoloff and Klyne immediately pursued them but the chase had hardly begun when a gruff voice boomeranged across the square towards them.
    "If you want to live, then stop. We have you surrounded."
    Sukoloff looked around and sighed, if he did not have the responsibility of Klyne then this would be easy, they would find it very difficult to shoot what was not there.
    Both men were man-handled into a battered truck and driven a small distance, then once blindfolded they were marched into another building. Sukoloff gave a brief smile then sent a long distance message.

Henn was in the middle of one of his long lectures to his newest agents. "I will repeat that again. In future you will obey orders from me only. Taking instructions from someone else without base clearance could not only mean a failed mission but an agent’s death."
    Then Tretow ran in, skidded across the floor, examined the grid and without even an, excuse-me-sir, pressed the intercom and shouted. "All Sepia agents. Main office now." Then he calmly sat and began writing. The young agents were astounded as Henn unquestioning dismissed them and PIA’s top agents ran into the office, all from a single command from a man who only ranked top thirty.
    Tretow began immediately the Sepias arrived. "Message from Vacily. Mispronounced as usual. He has given me co-ordinates of a base, probably Kijac. Him and Klyne have been captured and taken somewhere within a mile radius of that base. Vacily is going to stay with Klyne."
    "That wire you guys use comes in handy. OK, let’s mount a rescue party and see if we can find them. Before he grows impatient and turns them all into frogs," Henn said smiling.

It reminded him of an old castle torture chamber. Rough stone blocks formed the floor and the only decorations along its cold, grey walls were rusty manacles. A short, pig like man in KIJAC uniform appeared to be sealing the only door with what looked like wax. It puzzled him that the door had been bolted from the inside preventing entry, but not escape. Wooden shutters on the two windows blocked any natural light from entering the cold tomb. Two other men, their faces obscured by the gloom stood in the centre of the room.
    Sukoloff offered no resistance as the manacles snapped over his wrists. All he could do was stare at the floor. Finally the truth seemed to sink in and with a sharp intake of breath he glanced quickly at Klyne. Even in the gloom he could see a painted circle and within it a large pentagram. Surrounding it were candles that were, as yet, unlit. Brass bowls filled with liquid adorned each point of the pentagram. Sukoloff let out a low angry moan as one of the men in the centre turned grinning at him whilst chanting strange words. A moment of panic grabbed him and forgetting Klyne, he tried to fly. Pulling against the manacles he tried to use D-Mode in a desperate attempt to free his hands.
    "It won’t work, Sukoloff, I’ve paralysed you. Oh, the effects are only temporary but I’ve finally got you, Sukoloff. Do you know what this is?" said the man pointing at the circle.
    "I know black magic when I see it. Let Klyne go."
    "No, No Sukoloff," he laughed. "That would spoil the fun. Do you want to know how I got here?"
    "Not particularly, but I suppose you’re going to anyway."
    "I’ve been waiting for the chance for over ten years. You and Henn stopped us then. But not this time. My dear friend King did another test on his machine and called me back. Unfortunately the first test brought you back."
    "I didn’t go anywhere."
    "Only because of Sasam. We all know where you should be and that’s where your going now. Next time, when Sasam is completely operational it’s Armageddon time and you won’t be here to prevent it."
    "Let Klyne go, you don’t need him," said Sukoloff beginning to struggle against the chains and to kick at the air.
    "Mr Sukoloff, what’s wrong?" asked a very confused Klyne.
    "Just do as I tell you. Don’t disobey me because if you do... It will cost you your life." Then he snarled at the man in the centre and the rarely seen emotion of pure hate showed on his face.
    "I’ve got you, Sukoloff," he hissed as Sukoloff tried to compose himself. He had to do this slowly. He had to send one final message.

Tretow began to write, then frowned and spoke aloud. "Say again, Vacily? Vacily, are you listening?... No good, he’s just sending and by the sound of him he’s panicking. This is all I can make out." He gave the paper to Henn who having scanned it, passed it over to Proctor.
    "You’re good at anagrams, can you get anything?"
    "This is perplexing. The first line is ‘Sam is an Armada... No that cannot be correct. Sam is Armageddon? Does anyone know a Sam?" Everyone answered negatively. "Right, Next line. ‘Wasps to guard... Going to X... Me.’"
    "Wasps must be going to guard Kijac base. That has to be it surely?" Henn said frowning.
    "Perhaps the wasps are guarding Vacily and Klyne?... Yo, Sir, I’ve got it! Sam! That’s Sasam surely?" added Tretow.
    Proctor sat for some time fiddling with the words and occasionally he would piece a few words together, but eventually he sighed. "I do not know, I cannot get much at all. Are you sure he’s not receiving?"
    "Just repeating," said Tretow.
    "OK, this is all I can assemble, ‘Sasam is Armageddon. Wasps to guard, going to X... Me... Can save Klyne... Scar is here... Something... Help... Tell Jo I something for ever, good bye my friend.’"
    Suddenly Tretow jumped up yelling. "Something is very wrong, all he’s saying is ‘Goodbye, my love.’"
    Grabbing at the paper, Henn began writing, filling in any letters Proctor had missed, then giving a deep sigh he said. "I’ve got it. God just listen to this! ‘Sasam is Armageddon. Wasps to guard. Going to exorcise me. Can save Klyne. Scar is here. Call Tretow. Need help. Tell Jodie I’ll love her for ever. Goodbye, my friend.’" He slammed the paper down and stood, fear evident in his eyes. "Damn it! Damn it. There doing an exorcism! Their killing him! Tretow, call your mother... Steele, make ready for war."

"Let Klyne go, Scarab, he’s done you no harm," said Sukoloff trying hard not to betray his fear.
    "No, Sukoloff, I want him to see this. I want him to know just what is working for Pia."
    "He knows, so why bother putting him through this?"
    "Does he know? That was a clever bit of catching, Sukoloff. But it’s not right to prevent a man from dying. You’re only allowed to catch after death, not before."
    "What’s he talking about, Sir!? What does he mean?" Klyne almost screamed the words and pulled harder against the chains. Sukoloff could only answer with a shake of his head as he watched Scarab light the candles one by one. With the last one lit, he joined the other two KIJAC men in the centre of the pentagram. Again Sukoloff struggled, letting out a howl of rage as he did. With one tremendous effort he faded just long enough to slip out of the chains. It took him a good five minutes to pick the lock on Klyne’s chains and by that time Scarab was chanting, at first in English, then switching to Latin.
    "I call on you, the forces. I have caught the man who cheated you. He stopped a man from dying. He caught him before he hit the ground. I have them both, the catcher and the caught. I call on you, Oh, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, to claim what is rightfully yours."
    Klyne watched in horror as Sukoloff started running wildly around the room; banging on the door; shaking the bars on the windows and crashing into the walls. Trying pathetically to cross over the painted white line of the circle, yet seemingly unable to get passed the candles. He yelled loudly every time a flame was near him, as if the small flames were an inferno. Klyne listened to the chanting and the barbarous laughter coming from the man Sukoloff had called Scarab and shuddered violently.
    With his face haggard, his eyes wide and glistening with fear, Sukoloff ran over to Klyne. "Klyne! You must do as tell you!" he shouted. "You will things hear. Do what tell you, you will be unharmed. That man, Scarab, has called supernatural forces and two men must die."
    Klyne looked from Sukoloff to the room; at the numerous shadows cast by the flickering candles; at the pentagram and the people within it. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend all he could see. That must be it! When I fell from the plane I must have hit my head. There is no way this is real. Everything happening here is all straight out of a horror story. Maybe it’s a dreadful joke? Perhaps all these top agents play ghastly tricks on unsuspecting minor agents. That’s it! Some kind of initiation ceremony into Pia and there’s the proof! Sukoloff, still trying in vain to cross over a silly painted line into the circle. "Sir? Why don’t we make a run for it? All we have to do is unbar the door."
    "We would let death past these walls. This for me only. Not world."
    Klyne put his head to one side as a faint noise drifted across the room. Indistinct and far away came the unmistakable sound of horses. Then he began to laugh as Sukoloff dropped to his knees and began to speak in Latin.
    "In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus sancti, Amen." Again Klyne could only laugh, he knew Latin well enough to know that the Great Sukoloff was praying, but not well enough to know what the other joke player Scarab was saying.
    The sounds of horses’ hooves were becoming louder until the whole room was resonating to the beat. The candle flames grew bright and bent as in a strong wind and Sukoloff stood.
    "Pater noster, qui es in coelis..." he said loudly, at the same time he grabbed hold of Klyne’s wrist making the young man gasp from the chill of his touch. "Klyne, do as tell you. Two he want, two he get!"
    Klyne shivered as he looked into Sukoloff’s face. All the things he had heard from other agents, all the rumours about this fearless Russian, why could he only see a face registering stark terror. If this was an initiation ceremony, then this man deserved an Oscar. Maybe it was a dream; perhaps some overpowering nightmare, or perhaps KIJAc was using hypnotic gas, it was anything but actuality.
    The noises became so loud Klyne wondered if they were, beyond doubt, within his head. His ears began to hurt and his nose trickled with blood. Then the four grey walls seemed to disunite and from each came a black horse each carrying a heavily cloaked man. The air turned foul from the horse’s steamy breath and made him cough and reel. The candle flames moved furiously as they galloped and reared around the room and cast shadows of a multitude of frenzied red eyed horses across the grey walls.
    A wind whipped up now, growing in intensity until it too howled its wrath at all within those four walls. He could faintly hear Sukoloff as he stood beside him. "Close your eyes! Don’t look into face of horsemen."
    Klyne looked up briefly to see one shinning, black devil horse coming towards them—its fire red eyes flashing—its nostrils flared. At the same time the two men within the circle began running around screaming in sheer terror, stepping close to the edge of the circle and dragging the laughing, chanting Scarab with them.
    "Close your eyes and don’t open them until room is silent. If look his face you die. Klyne! Close them, damn you."
    The wind became more intense, screaming the sorrow of all lost souls and Klyne felt Sukoloff’s grip on his wrist tighten. He felt himself being dragged forward. The horsemen were all around now and Klyne could feel their steeds hot sweaty flesh brushing against him. Their fiery acrid breath forcing him to breathe shallow and reluctantly. He forced his head down as the temptation to look became overwhelming and the burning in his wrist from Sukoloff’s grasp began to oppress him. He could still hear Sukoloff calling out in Latin, over and over the same phrase. "In Nomine Patris..." on and on.
    The wind hit a crescendo and the struggling candles gave up their despondent fight for life. At that precise moment Sukoloff pushed Klyne over the line, grabbing the arm of Scarab as he did and pulling him yelling away from the safety of the circle. There was an unearthly scream, thereupon the room became tranquil and the wind restrained.

Klyne lay for what to him, seemed like eternity. His eyes so tightly closed a pain shot across his brow. Fear; a dark foreboding he had never known in his life was gripping his heart much as a strong vice gripped malleable wood. Even when he had been falling from the plane to what he had been certain must be death, the formidable terror he felt now had not been present.
    The room was silent now, yet his head still spun with the last remaining echoes. His ears retained the final song of the cyclone, while other sounds broke through his disorientated brain. He heard the faint sound of gunfire. People were shouting—someone was calling his name. Could it be that the terrible horsemen had returned to claim him? Someone was calling Sukoloff in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar...

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