Author’s notes ….
A novelisation (after a fashion) of the episode ‘Manhunt’
[written by Tony Barwick]. Though I have taken a few liberties with the dialogue
and made, in some cases major, embellishments.
Eternal gratitude to Chris Bishop and Marion Woods; for being
such excellent, tactful and thorough betas.
The title was Marion’s suggestion.
By Sage Harper
We found
out today that the Mysterons too can make major mistakes.
Captain Black had been
spotted after breaking into the Culver Atomic Centre, though we had no idea why
he’d be there, and ended up becoming exposed to a short life isotope.
So it was up to us to find him by tracking him as a radio active source.
It was
probably the biggest break we would ever get, a chance to capture Black. So we
listened very attentively to what Colonel White had to say, completely psyched
at the challenge. Would like to say I gave it my undivided attention, but, umm,
well, that’s not strictly true.
I tried
to, of course, but I just couldn’t help stealing glances at Symphony. She was
right next to me, so close I could smell her perfume. It was so gloriously
intoxicating. Good thing we weren’t there too long or I may very well have been
compelled to do something very
unprofessional, if you see what I mean.
“Guess
we’ll have to take a rain check on the coffee,” Symphony said as we walked back
from the officers’ lounge.
“Yeah, oh
well, some other time, eh?”
“Sure, I’d
like that.”
We had to
split off at that point; her to Angel One, Scarlet and I to the hangar.
“See you
later, Symphony,” I called by way of
goodbye.
I nearly
always call her Symphony. It’s not like I don’t know her real name or anything.
It’s 'Karen' by the way, which is nice enough but just so mundane. Such an
exceptional person needs a name to suit, and 'Symphony' fits the bill. I really
should explain that to her sometime. In case she has the wrong idea and thinks
I’m being impersonal.
When we
got into the SPJ, Scarlet gave me a knowing look.
“Coffee,
eh?”
“Yeah, you
know, hot caffeinated beverage?”
“Oh,
that’s what it is … hope you don’t make it yourself, you wouldn’t want to scare
her off.”
“Right,
thanks for the tip, buddy. Here’s one for you: butt out.”
“All
right. Sheesh… no need to be so
touchy.”
Good thing
he’s indestructible or I’d have beaten him to a pulp. Okay, he’s my best friend
and everything, but God, sometimes he can be so annoying.
“I was
just making conversation. You’re not angry, are you, Adam?”
“Nah…
course not.”
“Good. I
can’t have a field partner who won’t speak to me.”
Obviously
not, it was more than that though. Sure we had our bickering and disagreements
but ultimately we get on too well for any bad feeling to last.
Our first
task was to go to Stone Point Village to pick up an SPV. Black had been spotted
in that area, and tracked by the Geiger counters in the observation vans.
A few local personnel were manning those, with Grey over seeing the operations.
Everything seemed to
be going so well; which of course is never a good omen.
When we
reached the gas station where the SPV was stashed, there didn’t seem anyone
around at first.
Then the mechanic appeared. He said he was expecting us and also said some other
stuff that didn’t seem quite right. I just dismissed that as me being paranoid;
after all, Scarlet was giving no hint of the guy being a Mysteron. He has this
whole sixth sense for detecting them.
The
mechanic went off to get the key behind a counter, and I was about ready to
follow him. Scarlet stopped me though, and it all fitted into place. It seemed
like watching a movie as the mechanic pulled out a gun and Scarlet shot him
through the glass.
The whole
thing was all over in a few seconds. The look on Scarlet’s face will always stay
with me, though. It was almost identical to the expression he had while shooting
at me, at the Car-Vu not so long ago. He was one of them that day, and even
though I don’t doubt he is completely back with us now, he still gets that cold
look, like his humanity has evaporated. Though I guess maybe that’s just the soldier in
him.
“Guess you
knew it was a trap,” I said.
“I
suspected it,” he retorted.
“How?” I
asked, having pretty much figured it out but wanting to get his perspective too.
Helps to clarify we’re thinking along the same lines.
“He didn’t ask for our identification,” he
said, simply.
Yeah,
that’s what I’d figured.
I know how
that must look to some people, like he’s the super-hero and I’m just the
sidekick. Ochre often teases about me being Scarlet’s puppy or something. It’s
really not like that, though. We’ve just figured out a dynamic that works; Paul
works best when he’s in charge, and by taking the ‘sidekick’ role, I can temper
him. It doesn’t bother me what the others say and think. You can’t truly
understand how a relationship works from being an outside observer.
We checked
everything out. We found the mechanic’s body – the real one. This never gets any
easier. Even if it’s not really our job – cleaning up, after the incident,
I mean.
We just
got running round saving the day, and looking all dashing in our uniforms, while
Spectrum’s ‘civilian affairs’ department work in sorting out this stuff. Don’t
know how they do it. Must just switch off any emotion and not consider that only
hours ago that body was an actual person, with family and friends who will
grieve for him.
I’ve seen
death so many times before and it’s not pretty or peaceful. The look of pain and
fear in the eyes of the dying says as much. Paul still has that look when he
gets mortally wounded, even though everyone is confident that by the next day he
won’t have anything to show for it. The doctors can bang on about the
‘amazingness’ of retrometabolism, but they don’t see him dying. It’s so crazy to
think that. He’s like a weeble toy: he gets knocked about but never stays down.
Of course
I’m the one who sees everything. Who sits and comforts him far beyond the point
when he couldn’t even tell I was there. It just makes me feel better, probably
serves as a comfort to Paul as well, never thought to ask.
“Don’t get your prints on anything,” I
absentmindedly told Paul as he wandered around snooping. “We wouldn’t want to
mess up the evidence.”
He rolled
his eyes, insisted that ‘he knew’ and
carried on.
We
realised Black had been here, but was long gone with the SPV. Killing the
mechanic to get it, obviously. This apparently wasn’t going to be a simple
mission after all – but then when do we ever have those?
Finally,
some proper action. Brad – I mean Captain Grey – managed to get a fix on Black.
So the chase was on, trying to find Black after he’d apparently left the road with that stolen
SPV. I let Scarlet drive; he’s better at all this hot pursuit business.
And if he drives, then I’m spared him giving
me a running commentary
of how I should handle the car. Sometimes I feel like grinding to a halt and
announcing that, ‘actually Paul, I do know how to freaking drive’.
Would be a
bit hypocritical though, seeing as I can be just as bad.
We drove
past a field with a broken fence, and I saw fresh tire tracks.
“Hey, that
could be it,” I said.
So Scarlet
stopped and reversed back. There was no one else around, they must know
Scarlet is on the road and have decided to leave it to him. Not that Scarlet
isn’t a good driver; at least he can get from A to B without crashing… most of
the time. I just think that sometimes he forgets that we are driving ordinary
civilian type vehicles on normal roads, rather than haring around in a tank or
something.
Well obviously, Black
had been there. Fresh SPV tracks are pretty distinct. They neatly looped
through, then went out to the road.
Having
clearly been too late to stop Black, I could tell Scarlet was steaming. Most
people get the impression he is emotionless when on duty. Which is kinda true
compared to other officers, but having worked with him for such a long time
already, I can pick up the subtle changes in his mood.
“Come on,
we’d better head back,” he said, grudgingly walking back to the car. He can’t
handle near misses very well; he always takes them way too personally.
It was
then I saw something glinting in the grass and picked it up.
“What have
you got?” Scarlet asked, still eager to get back.
“A
medallion,” I said absentmindedly, taking in its familiarity, which was so at
odds with the setting. “It’s Symphony’s.”
He came
over to have a look.
“Are you
sure?”
I rolled
my eyes.
“Of
course, it’s hers; I gave it to her for her birthday. Remember?”
He seemed
distracted by something in the distance.
“You’re
right. And look over there.”
We looked
at each other and gave wry smiles, for being so dumb for not noticing the
freaking great plane until now.
Then it
truly dawned on us that the plane was Angel One, which had come to rest in a
grove in the corner of the field. For a moment I couldn’t bring myself to
consider what that must mean.
There was
no sign of a struggle or anyone around.
“He must
have taken her, as a hostage,” I said, feeling a total numb shock wash over me.
“That
seems the most likely thing. She must have attempted to intercept him.”
Scarlet
reported the situation to Colonel White, while I walked back to the car. Still
with the medallion in my hand.
For that
moment, I hated Symphony. It came as such a surprise, having done quite the
opposite for so long. I hated her for disobeying orders, and ruining the plan.
For being her typical Capricorn self: charging on ahead, stubbornly, and not
thinking.
Most of
all, though, I hated the way it made me feel; the worry curdling in my stomach, making me
want to throw up. It felt like Black had taken part of me hostage too.
Grey
radioed through,
to give us the latest development concerning
the chase, just before Scarlet got back to the car.
“Grey says
that Black’s gone back to Culver,” Scarlet said.
“Yeah, I
heard.”
So he
started the car and we headed back to the road, the way we came.
“Black
must have realised he was radio-active and be attempting to disguise his own
radiation
by going
back at the Centre,” he hypothesised.
I just
carried on looking out the window, lost in my own thoughts.
How stupid
could she be? Was she trying to reason with him or something? Well, sorry, Doll,
but it’s probably a bit far gone for that! Him being possessed by evil aliens
and all… God, that sounds like something from a B movie! Is that why everything
is secret, because anyone outside the organisation would just laugh at the
absurdity? Or be totally freaked out, I suppose.
Then all
the worst case scenarios started to play over in my head.
“The
radiation is good for another twenty-four hours; he can’t have got far,” Scarlet
said. “Come on, Adam,” he added, perhaps a little too bluntly.
His voice
seemed so disconnected and far away. Even though I was right next to him.
“Adam,” he
said again, this time his voice softer. That finally snapped me out of it.
“Better
not let the colonel hear you call me that,” I teased.
He
grinned, as if to say, ‘welcome back, buddy’.
“Yes sir,
Captain Blue.”
I smiled
back; couldn’t help it.
“SIG
Captain Scarlet. Let’s go get him.”
And after
all that, we sat around waiting at Culver, for hours. We knew Black was hiding
there – we could see the SPV in the compound. Seriously though, the only plan of
action was to wait it out in the security guards’ office, just sitting there;
though for a bit of variety, we could always pace the floor.
Well, this
sure as hell wasn’t in the job spec.
“Are we
just going to sit around looking at each other?” I demanded.
“Our
orders are to wait.”
Oh great,
now even the super-impetuous Scarlet was against me.
“I’m going in,” I announced, because, hey, I
can be rash and stupid too.
“No, you
are going to wait with the rest of us. Playing the hero will do no good.”
“What
about Symphony?”
There was
a twinge of hysteria in my voice, unsurprising considering that I’d been
imagining the worst, over and over, for hours. Scarlet put a hand on my
shoulder, whether to comfort or restrain me was impossible to tell.
“I just
hope she’s all right.”
Well, gee,
Paul, that’s so comforting.
Symphony could be dying somewhere but you won’t do anything about it
because for once in your damn life you want to go by the book?
So of
course I sat, waiting some more, stewing it over. Giving Paul the worst evils,
which he never saw, having his back turned on me, playing solitaire the whole
time. That and tea is his usual essentially British response to a crisis. Oddly
comforting I guess, but not a fat lot of help in practical terms.
At last,
something happened. Reports came that the SPV in the compound was starting to
move. There was really no need for comment, but a babble broke out as everyone
had their say and the adrenalin started pumping. Action, at last! We all headed out to
the gate. There was probably no reason for us all to be there, but
we were all desperate for
a piece of the action. Maybe we
should have realised the mistake of deserting the other posts, but at the time
our only concern was capturing Black.
Disjointed voices I didn’t
care to identify came in bursts;
“He’s
crashed the gates.”
“Blue and
I will follow.”
“Alert the
roadblocks, he’s heading straight for Ochre’s.”
“SIG …
Stand by, Captain.”
All things
considered, I love these moments. When everything swings together and the action
flows, with us keeping our heads, but feeling the exhilaration bubbling in our
gut. It’s the kind of thing you dream of as a kid. But this time was
different; all I had felt was a leaden dread, turning my blood cold at the thought of
what might happen next, to Symphony. They really should have written something
into the training manual about how you’re supposed to deal with these things.
The driver
of the SPV, noticing the roadblock, swung off the road, and, misjudging the
tightness of the necessary turn, ploughed straight into a tree.
Can’t
imagine the maintenance department being happy about that. Come to think of it,
the Forestry Commission won’t be best pleased either.
Cars
screeched to a halt and the flood lights kicked into life; but the SPV door
stayed shut.
Hmm… OK, a stand off; that was covered in the
training manual, can totally deal with that.
Scarlet
grabbed the megaphone (Spectrum issue; compact but effective, according to the
brochure) and acted out what could only be described as a cop movie cliché.
“Captain
Black, you are surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”
Everyone
waited, almost not daring to breathe; Scarlet was of course the ring master of
our little circus.
What are they all waiting for? We needed to get
in there, to save Symphony. That was why we were there, right?
The
standard procedure is to wait for a minute. Though obviously being nearly as
impatient as me, Scarlet only managed thirty seconds.
“All
right, we’re coming in.”
Then he
looked to me for moral support.
“Don’t
look at me, you said it,” I muttered.
Well
honestly, would you march up to some guy possessed by evil aliens with even a
second’s hesitation? Nah, didn’t think so. Besides we needed a strategy. We
couldn’t just barge in. Anything could go wrong; Symphony could be used as a
shield for a start. If she was still alive, of course… but I couldn’t bring
myself to think that. I had to believe this would all turn out fine.
What the hell was wrong
with me – I’m a trained officer, why couldn’t I just do what I knew I should?
Scarlet was starting to give me pitying looks… I really hoped no one else had
noticed.
“It’s too
quiet,” Scarlet noted.
There was
a hint of fear in his voice; having got so wrapped up in my own thought, I had
almost forgotten he was even there. I started to feel bad for snapping at him
earlier. Of course he cared about Symphony. She was like a kid sister to him.
“Well, go
find out why.” My impatience was making me flippant. “You did just say you
would.”
“We would.” He gave a knowing look. That
he understood my response had as much to with my feelings about Symphony as
doing my duty.
“Yeah,
‘course, after you, my indestructible comrade.”
Captain
Scarlet did go first, stepping into the dark interior of the SPV. We both braced
ourselves for coming face to face with Captain Black - once Spectrum’s best
asset, now its most feared enemy. Scarlet checked his gun and I tried to
suppress my twitching nerves.
He shone
his torch around inside. It was deathly quiet; I was so tensed up and oddly out
of sync it felt like everything was underwater.
“Symphony!” he exclaimed after a moment.
Surely
not…
He stood
aside and I passed, not caring about anything else, just needing to see her.
She was
slumped against the far side, apparently unconscious, in the driver’s seat.
No sign of
Black, but right then I truly didn’t care. I was just so relieved to see her.
After what
seemed like an eternity, but could only have been a moment, Symphony murmured
softly and her eyes flickered open. Remembering where she was and probably her
recent ordeal, her eyes widened in terror.
“It’s
okay, honey, it’s over now.”
She looked to me, and
recognising me, knew she was now going to be all right, then burst into tears.
Instinctively I closed the gap between us and held her.
“Hey, come
on, it’s all right … I’m here … he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Scarlet
pretended not to have seen or heard anything ‘unofficial’, stepping away
discreetly to give us a moment alone.
During the
journey back to Cloudbase, Symphony said very little, which was a contrast to
her usual good-natured banter. She was withdrawn, leaving a vulnerable scared
shell, and pulling the thermal blanket tighter round herself; not because of the
cold, but of the still present fear that Black would appear and inflict more
damage. I
didn’t want to think what he might have done to her, my blood boiling with
impotent rage at her suffering. It hurt so badly to watch
her like this, but I couldn’t leave her.
The
silence ended up being oppressive. Obviously, I was going to have to say
something, anything, the first thing that came to mind. Which happened to be a
dirty joke. So I told it to her, and for the first time in what seemed like
forever, she laughed. Possibly just with the sheer exhilaration of the mood
lifting, but it was me that prompted it. That was better than any sweet
nothings.
The
colonel called us to the control room for a debriefing as soon as we touched
down. We had to be serious and
sensible for that, which was a shame. By that point Symphony and I, giddy with
relief, had been telling progressively more obscene jokes. Really hadn’t
expected her to have such a repertoire; she always seemed such a clean-cut
country girl.
Just like
I’m a high-class, super-rich Bostonian. Hmm… touché.
“How are
you feeling, Symphony?” the colonel asked.
His voice, usually void of emotion, showed great concern for her. He
really does care about the girls. They’re like surrogate daughters to him – or
something.
“She’s
fine, Colonel, just badly shaken,” I answered on her behalf, reaching across
under the table and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. It was almost a reflex.
Then she
found her voice.
“I’m
sorry, Sir; I feel I let you down.”
“It’s all
right, Symphony,” White reassured her. “But remember, initiative should never
clash with discipline.”
I thought
that was a fucking cheek. If we followed all the rules we would never get any
work done. He should know that from me and Scarlet.
“Yes sir,”
Symphony bowed her head slightly, reprimanded.
Between
the three of us, we filled Symphony in.
Explained how Captain Black had made her radioactive and let her escape
as a diversion while he removed his own radiation and left through the unguarded
gate. To be honest, it made us look really stupid, and I know everyone was
really pissed about Black slipping by.
The
colonel then dismissed us.
“Symphony,
one thing puzzles me,” Lieutenant Green said as we were about to leave.
“What’s
that?”
“Why
didn’t you stop the SPV just outside the gate?”
With a
hint of a smile she replied, “Don’t tell anyone this, Lieutenant: but that’s the
first time I’ve ever driven an SPV!”
I made a
mental note to bring that up at the next meeting, in such a way that wouldn’t
embarrass her, of course. She probably didn’t even know I’d overheard.
Scarlet
was walking with me, and could tell I was riled about something.
“Go on,
out with it, I’m ready,” he said.
“What does
the colonel mean: ‘initiative should never clash with discipline’?” I ranted.
“How’s that supposed to work? Anyway, what about all the times we did just that
and got praised?”
“He does
have a valid point. Symphony was
reckless, landing and following Black like that,” Scarlet tried to pacify me.
“You can’t seriously expect him to say ‘oh that’s fine, but be more careful in
future’. There has to be some kind of reprimand, for the record. Anyway I think
she got off rather lightly.”
He was
right, but there was no way I was going to back down.
“That is
no excuse for him to lay into her, anyone could see how shaken up she was; she
learned her lesson,” I insisted.
“So Karen
can do the most stupid things imaginable and you will rush to her defence?”
Scarlet queried. “How sweet!”
Argh! That
was tough to answer.
He looked
thoughtfully for a moment.
“You
really do love her, don’t you?”
Whaaat?
Where’d that spring from? … God, I must have been carrying on like a love-sick
kid for him to notice! That was even worse than anything he could say.
I didn’t
answer, and luckily he let it drop. The answer was obvious, for me at least.
Still, I couldn’t say anything. It was none of his business, and anyway he
probably had it figured out already.
He didn’t
give any indication of taking my silence as confirmation.
“Well, I
am going to go write my report, then head for the gym,” he said to change the
subject. “Fancy coming along?”
It was one
of our long standing jokes; I hate the gym. Anything is better than trundling
along on the treadmill like a hamster. Not that I don't keep in good shape, you
have to for this job, but I only put in the bare minimum there. Would rather be
water skiing any day.
“No
thanks, pal, I’m gonna get something to eat… See you later.”
By the
time I had finished my own report, the alarm clock’s luminous screen read 23:15.
It had taken longer than I’d expected. So much had happened I had to figure out
what was right to say in an official document.
Behind the
clock is a photograph of Symphony in a silver frame. Couldn’t really see the
details of it but didn’t need to - I knew it so well. The picture was of
Symphony riding a horse when she was staying at her mother’s ranch just before
joining Spectrum.
The whole
light and atmosphere of the photo made it so perfect. It was obvious how happy
she was and her smile warmed even within a picture. It was nothing like how
fragile she appeared after today.
I got up
and decided to walk without figuring out a destination.
Symphony
was on the promenade deck. The haunted look still on her face as she watched a
solitary cloud drift across the sky.
“Are you
okay?” I asked.
I so badly
wanted to do something; reassure her, hold her, make everything all right.
Well
anyway, I just couldn’t get up the bottle to do anything more than stand beside
her, watching the sky.
“No, I
couldn’t sleep.” She was going to say more, but held back. “Guess you couldn’t
sleep either, right?”
“I haven’t
actually tried, had to finish my report. Then I wanted to check you were okay,
because, well, you know.”
“Hmm… You
know Ads, I don’t think I do.”
In my
head, the words came in a flurry. The most obvious screaming out above the rest.
I couldn’t say that, though. It wouldn’t be right to. She was vulnerable and
might think … then there were all the other doubts.
“I, umm,
care about you … a lot.”
Oh, for fuck sake, Svenson… That the best
you can do?
“Ah! So that would explain you wanting to
march in and rescue me,” she grinned, her normal self breaking though.
“Yeah,
Black probably would have killed both of us if I had. Good thing Scarlet talked
me out of it, all things considered.”
You’re babbling, shut up.
“I think
it’s real sweet you wanted to save me. Got my very own knight in shining
armour.” She gave a coy smile.
“Well, I
don’t know about that. I didn’t
actually save you.”
“It’s the
thought that counts.”
Symphony
gave a yawn, and that started me off too.
“We really
should get to bed,” I said. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
She
started to protest, as the Angels’ quarters were about as far out of my way as
possible. Then she smiled, knowing I wasn’t going to back down.
“That’s
real nice of you,” she said, taking my proffered arm.
We didn’t
say a word until we reached her door, too engrossed in our own thoughts.
“You’ve
been really great, thanks,” she said.
I nearly
told her, right there and then; but of course, I found an excuse not to. Same as
all the other times.
“It wasn’t
a big deal or anything.”
“Well, it
was a big deal to me,” she gently insisted. “So thank you.”
“You’re
welcome.”
“Ah, ever
the perfect gentleman,” she smiled.
Then I
remembered something.
“Here’s
your medallion, I guess you’ll be wanting it back.”
“Oh Adam,
thank you! I thought I’d never see it again.” She leaned in closer and kissed me
on the cheek.
“It’s no
big deal… Well, umm, good night,” I managed to splutter.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to talk to her
without morphing into a babbling moron.
“Yeah,
night, Ads. Sweet dreams.”
I don’t
think I’d fooled her for a moment – her smile was far too knowing and her eyes
sparkled with a light that had been missing since Culver.
Strolling
back toward my own quarters I replayed the kiss. It wasn’t the first time she
had ever kissed me. Karen was pretty and demonstrative, ‘touchy-feely’ I guess,
with her friends. Almost always in the company of at least one of the guys; I
get the feeling Pat has a crush on her, but don’t think the others do. They
haven’t noticed the way I feel about her, or at least I hope not.
So really I was
probably making way too much of it.
Still, I
smiled remembering how I could smell her scent as she leaned closer, feel
softness and warmth of her lips. My desperate desire to reach for her, prolong
the bliss of it. Not that I actually did, of course.
For all my
despair of Ochre’s behaviour, I do envy him sometimes. How he can be so open
with his feelings, and near effortlessly charm into bed almost every woman that
takes his fancy. Why do I always have to be ‘the perfect gentleman’ when the
opposite looks so appealing?
As for
sweet dreams … oh, they would be, that was a given. I tried not to read too much
into it. I couldn’t anyway, with sleep rapidly catching up with me.
Figure it out in the morning.
Seems like
a good plan. I’ll go sit with her some place quiet, and talk, over coffee.
Which, no,
I won’t make myself.
OTHER STORIES BY SAGE
HARPER ON SPECTRUM HEADQUARTERS
Sage Harper’s Table of Captain
Scarlet fic (on LiveJournal)
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