A Spectrum story for Christmas

By Marion Woods

Rhapsody Angel closed her email account and picked up her printing as she left her quarters. She strolled across Cloudbase to the Officers’ Lounge, thinking that was the best place to start her search for Captain Scarlet. She was excited and wanted to share her news as soon as possible.

Captain Scarlet, Captain Blue and Captain Ochre were on ‘stand-by duty’ in the Officers’ Lounge. They were occupying themselves playing the latest popular board game, which had arrived yesterday from General and Mrs Metcalfe as a birthday present for their son. None of them looked up as the door opened at Rhapsody’s approach; they were too busy arguing about whether Captain Blue’s last move, which more or less guaranteed he would win, was valid.

“It says in the rules that you can’t do that,” Ochre asserted, waving a pamphlet at Blue.

“Where does it say that?” Blue retorted. “I’ve read them too, you know.”

“But if you do that it’s going to be a very short game every time we play it,” Scarlet reasoned. “It’s cheating, Adam.”

“It isn’t,” Blue asserted. “It’s just a very stupid game with a design flaw that nobody but me seems to have noticed.”

“We’ll have to ban him from ever playing it again,” Ochre said, throwing the rule book down on the table.

“He’s spoilt it anyway,” Scarlet said, laying his cards down beside the pamphlet. “Now we know what to do to win every time what’s the point of ever playing it again?”

“Sorry,” Blue said, although he didn’t look it. “I had no idea it was going to cause such a fuss, or I wouldn’t have done it.” He sighed, glanced up and saw Rhapsody, who was grinning at them from the doorway. “Hi, Rhapsody! You’re just the distraction I need to save me from these two sore losers.”

“I am not a sore loser!” Ochre protested. “You cheated.”

Scarlet got to his feet. He left his friends to argue about the rules and went to greet his fiancée.

“Hello, Dianne. Mum sent me an early birthday present and Blue’s ruined it before we’ve hardly had chance to get all the counters out of the box.” He grinned. “I ought to know that it is never a good idea to play those sort of games with Adam; he always wins.”

“Never mind, Paul. You can donate it to the general staff lounge and they’ll think you’re wonderful! Apparently, that game is sold out almost everywhere.”

He nodded. “Tell you the truth, it is rather a silly game. I’d much rather chat with you.”

“Good! I have a surprise for you.”

“Great, I like surprises.”

“I’ve managed to book a special treat for our leave. Guess where we’re going?”

Scarlet rolled his eyes heavenwards, in a parody of deep thought. “Brighton?” he suggested, hopefully.

“No! Be serious.” She couldn’t contain herself any longer. “We’re going to Paradise Peaks!”

Scarlet’s face was a bemused blank.

“You know,” she urged, “the super-deluxe winter resort in the Swiss Alps. It’s been closed for some years and now, after a thorough refurbishment, it’s reopening in time for Christmas.” She beamed up at him and explained, “I’ve always wanted to go there ever since Lady Penelope told me about it when we were in the Federal Agents Bureau together, and, now I’m going there with you! What could be better?”

“Right… sounds… great.”

“Oh, Paul! You’ll love it! Fine dining, excellent wines, superb views and this particular weekend, there’s a special Christmas event with all sorts of entertainments and parties.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “I can’t wait,” he said and took the opportunity to lean in and kiss her cheek.

Rhapsody felt the sudden jolt of uncertainty. “You’re not just saying that, are you, Paul?”

“No, I’m not just saying it. It’ll be fantastic, just as long as after the entertainment and the parties, the fine dining, wine and due consideration of the excellent views, I get you to myself for the rest of the night.”

“Oh yes, of course. I’m sure there’ll be time for some of that…”

“For some of that, we will make time,” he announced decisively.

Rhapsody blushed. “We leave tomorrow on the London shuttle and I have booked us on the next flight to Geneva. Don’t be late!”

The approach road to Paradise Peaks had been cleared of the latest snowfall and was well gritted. Obviously nothing was to be allowed to hamper the revels of the reopening and large advertising hoardings proclaimed the forthcoming events with increasing hysteria.

“I hope the place isn’t going to be too crowded,” Scarlet remarked, as they joined the queue of traffic to enter the gates of the resort.

“I am sure they’ll want to keep their reputation for exclusivity,” said Rhapsody. “It’s a big selling point; you know the sort of thing: ‘maximum privacy with the ultimate in comfort’. We might even see some famous people this weekend.”

“As long as we don’t know any of them, or more to the point, as long as they don’t know us in our professional capacity. We’d better make sure we stick to our real names, as well, and not use our codenames any longer.”

“Yes; it’s odd isn’t it? I’m always calling you Paul when we’re on Cloudbase, but somehow ‘captain’ or ‘Scarlet’ slips easier off the tongue when we’re off base.”

She smiled at him and he grinned back.

“Must be the frisson of knowing you’re misbehaving by using a given name while you’re on duty,” he replied.

“Must be.”

He wound down the window and handed the security guard their reservation documents.

“Welcome to Paradise Peaks. Please to follow the signs for car park B. When you are there a valet will show you where to park and assist with your luggage. In reception, you can book into your apartment.”

The inside of the resort hotel was certainly opulent, but the room they were shown to had a view down the valley, over the car parks.

“Oh dear,” Dianne sighed. “I guess that’s why it was the last remaining room when I tried to book.”

“Never mind, we can always go out onto one of the terraces and turn our backs on this mundane view,” Paul replied. “Look, if we draw the curtains we can’t see the car parks at all!”

“True, only we can’t see anything! Still. I’m not going to let one small disappointment ruin our holiday,” she replied. “Shall we unpack now, or change and go and have a drink before we eat?”

“Unpack; then we can feel virtuous while we’re eating and know that we haven’t got to do anything except relax after our meal. I’ll book us a table for… half past. That gives us forty minutes to sort ourselves out.”

The restaurant was starting to fill up when they walked in to claim their table. Dianne was glad that she’d chosen to wear one of her elegant couture dresses and coerce Paul into wearing a smart suit, for their fellow diners were dressed to the nines. They were shown to a table with an excellent view over the distant peaks and not too close to the small stage, where a grand piano, some music stands and a drum-kit, hinted that there would be dancing later. For now there was the hum of background music, carefully calculated to make it impossible to over-hear anyone not sitting next to you.

The menu was extensive and, Paul noticed, over-priced by a considerable amount. For once he was glad Dianne had a small appetite and refrained from encouraging her to eat more. His own appetite tended to be minimal, unless he was recovering from an injury, when it seemed that his retrometabolism demanded fuelling with copious amounts of food and drink. He played it safe and ordered a house wine.

“Hmmm, this poached lobster tail is lovely. Want to try some?”

Dianne proffered a sliver of the food on the end of her fork.

He chewed it thoughtfully. “Very nice.”

“How’s your venison carpaccio?”

“Good.” He returned the favour with a slice of venison.

“I shan’t fit a single one of my outfits if the food is all going to be this wonderful,” she complained.

Paul grinned. “I can live with the idea of you not wearing much, but you might get arrested if you leave the room…”

“Behave!”

They sat in silence as the waiter cleared the dishes away and sipped their wine while waiting for their main course: a roast duck salad for Dianne and a fillet steak au poivre for Paul.

“Phew, I am full to the eyebrows. I won’t be able to dance a step,” she said, when she pushed away the plate and finished the last of her wine.

“I wasn’t planning on dancing tonight,” he replied. “It’s been a long day and I fancied an early night.”

“I thought you might, but while you don’t need much sleep,” Dianne reminded him, with a wry glance, “I do.”

“I know, darling, and I’ll behave. Promise.”

“Oh Paul, I do love you and I promise that after a good night’s sleep, I won’t be such a party pooper.”

He reached across and raised her hand to his lips. Dianne chuckled at him, and looking at her blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight, he knew it would be a tough promise to keep.

They were making their way across the reception towards the lifts, when a fleet of black limousines drew up at the doors and black-suited security flunkeys got out to open the door for the VIP inside the middle car.

“Someone likes to make an entrance,” Dianne remarked. They stood and watched while waiting for the lift to appear. The centre of the security cordon was a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, middle-aged man, with a high forehead, strong nose and jawline set in a sallow complexion.

“Paul, isn’t that…?”

“Yes, it is. Akatai Jumaniyoz, the Supreme President of Khorasam. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

“Taking a holiday, like everyone else?”

“He rarely leaves his compound in Xiva.” The lift arrived with a genteel ping and they stepped inside. “I hope he’s not here to cause trouble.”

“What kind of trouble could he cause in Paradise Peaks?” Dianne asked, as she pushed the floor selection button and the doors closed.

“I remember Bl… Adam saying something concerning secret negotiations with the World Government about a supply deal from their oil and gas reserves. Didn’t Ochre have to go and police some conference in Xiva about six months ago?”

Dianne nodded. “Yes, Rick did go to Xiva, now you mention it. He brought us all back some lovely hand-woven silk shawls.”

“Did he say if the negotiations were a success?”

“If he knew, he also knew better than to gossip about it. If the … Charles hasn’t mentioned it to his elite squad, then I suspect Rick didn’t know.”

“I wonder if we should contact-”

“We should be on leave, remember? Everyone’s entitled to a holiday, even a Supreme President, so let the man have some peace, Paul.”

They had reached their room.

“Yes, you’re right, Di. Enjoy your stay at Paradise Peaks, Mr Supreme President!”

With an exasperated, and disbelieving grimace, she led the way into their room and closed the door after him with a firm click.

“Good morning, beautiful. I ordered you breakfast in bed,” Paul said, as he placed a tray on the bed beside the sleeping Dianne and threw open the curtains.

“What? What time is it?” She sat up, bleary-eyed and a little annoyed.

“Seven-thirty.”

“What? I’m on holiday!”

“I thought you’d want to see what I am assured is the spectacular sunrise over the mountains. So, there you have fresh orange juice, a pot of breakfast tea and two slices of toast, butter and marmalade, to go with the approaching dawn.”

“Thank you.” There was precious little gratitude in her voice as she glared at him.

“And then, after you’ve breakfasted, I’ve hired us both ski equipment and a jet pack booster, so we can explore ‘the myriad scenic ski runs that are a speciality of the resort’.”

“Did you spend all night reading the brochure?” Dianne asked, as she poured herself a cup of tea.

“Most of it,” Paul admitted. “When we get back, before dinner and dancing, of course, I booked you a session in the sauna with a facial, hair treatment and massage.”

“Damn you, Paul Metcalfe. I am never going on holiday with you again.”

“But, Di; surely you don’t want to waste a precious minute of the few days we have here?”

“I want to relax!”

“After a day’s skiing and a spa treatment, dinner and dancing to the Paradise Quartet, you’ll be totally relaxed.”

“I will be knackered. So you can forget about any high-jinks tonight.”

“Di?”

“Forget it.”

“I thought you’d be pleased. After all, you raved about the scenery after what Lady Penelope told you.”

“Yes, I want to explore, but not until I’ve had a few days’ rest.” She sighed and said in a more placating manner, “I know you don’t need to rest as much as others do and you dislike just idling about, but I’ve had a busy three months on duty; I wanted to idle, just for a while.”

“Sorry, Di. You’re right, I hate sitting about with nothing to do and tend to forget that others are not as cursed as I am. Look, darling, if you want, I’ll go skiing on my own and leave you to rest up.”

“No, Paul; I wouldn’t dream of it. We’re on holiday together and we’ll go skiing together. Come here, and kiss me.”

He obeyed with alacrity.

“Only tomorrow,” Dianne pleaded, “Let me sleep a little longer, please?”

 

Two hours later, having duly admired the sunrise, Dianne left their room wearing her skiing gear and made her way to the lift. Paul had already gone down to collect the skis and get a route map of the best trails to follow and, now that she was fully awake, she was actually looking forward to the day. On the way down the lift stopped at the next floor and the door opened. Three black-suited security men stepped in, hustling her into a corner while one of them scanned her with a metal-detector.

“What do you think you’re doing? Leave me alone!” she protested angrily, but the men took no notice.

Once they were sure she posed no threat, they ushered

Akatai Jumaniyoz, and a fourth bodyguard, into the lift.

Seeing the occupant was an attractive – and obviously annoyed – young woman, the President was apologetic.

“Your pardon, Miss,” Jumaniyoz said in heavily accented English, with a bow of his sleek, dark head. “My officers are badly mannered, but they have to be thorough.”

“Oh, I quite understand; I was rather taken by surprise, that’s all. Please, don’t consider it, Mr President.”

“You know who I am?”

Cursing her unguarded politeness, Dianne said, “Yes, I do, sir, probably because my father works for the World Government and it seems I was born with an innate knowledge of the world’s leaders.”

She smiled, hoping that would close the conversation.

“You intrigue me. What is your father’s name, dear lady?”

Reluctantly she replied, “Lord Robert Simms, sir.”

“Ah, Lord Robert Simms. I know of his name, although I have not had the pleasure to meet him. He is well-respected. I am delighted to meet you, Miss Simms. I like to use my English skills but rarely am given such a charming opportunity to speak it.”

“Your English is excellent, sir.”

“You think so? This pleases me greatly. I have need to be a good English man, as too many people try to hide their true intentions from me by speaking it. They think I – a mere barbarian in their eyes – cannot understand them. Often I do not disabuse them of this believe, you understand me, I hope?”

“I do, sir.”

“Your father taught you well, dear lady. Now, I would make amends for the rough handling of my men.”

“There is no need, sir.”

He ignored her. “To be truthful, my dear Miss Simms, I miss the gentle company of a woman, for my dear wife could not travel with me. She is at home with our new child. Only…” he held up eight fingers, “eight weeks since he was born to us. Great was our joy!”

“Congratulations, sir!”

“You are most kind. So, I would be in your debt if you would dine with me this evening and allow me to speak more English with you? I would offer more but, sadly, I am busy until then.”

The door opened and she saw Paul waiting by a pile of gear, across the reception area from the lift. Relieved to have a polite way to decline the invitation, she said:

“I’m afraid my fiancé and I are also going to be out all day, Mr President. I’m not sure what time we’ll be back.”

Jumaniyoz’s gaze followed the direction of her hand gesture, and examined Paul with wary eyes. “Your fiancé? This is the young man?”

Dianne nodded, glancing at Paul. He had started making his way across to the lift the moment he’d seen her and the President’s party emerge. His military bearing and the forceful glance he directed at the bodyguards were enough to make them hold back, but they were wary of his approach and he saw several of them reaching for their side-arms.

“Good day, sir. I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr President,” Paul said clearly, with a short bow. “Colonel Paul Metcalfe, formerly of the World Army Air Force, at your service.”

“Good day to you, Colonel. I have just invited your charming young lady to dine with me this evening and I am delighted to extend the invitation to you also. She tells me you are out all day?”

“That’s very kind of you, sir. We do have plans for the rest of the day that preclude having a dinner engagement.”

Jumaniyoz looked disappointed, and in a burst of sudden sympathy, Dianne said, “But, Paul, I’m sure that, if we are back, we’d be delighted to have a pre-dinner drink with President Jumaniyoz, wouldn’t we?”

Paul was unable to hide his surprise and the President looked delighted.

“That is good. I shall expect you both. Come to the sixth floor at 8 o’clock. I shall look forward to it. Good day to you, dear lady.” He took Dianne’s hand and raised it to his lips.

Jumaniyoz strode off surrounded by his bodyguards and out to his waiting limousine.

“How did you manage to get roped into that?” said Paul, watching the limousine pull away from the hotel.

“He said he wanted to make amends for his men barging into the lift and pushing me about.”

“Did they, by Jove?”

“Yes, but given who they are, it is to be expected and no harm was done, so don’t feel you have to avenge my honour, or anything silly like that, will you? Besides, he seemed genuinely disappointed that his wife wasn’t with him and said he just wanted some female company. And he has invited us both…”

“You seem happy enough to humour him, Di.”

“Well, I know Daddy gets lonely on diplomatic trips from time to time, so why shouldn’t a Supreme President? Especially one who has had to leave behind his wife and an 8-week old son. Besides, I don’t know anything detrimental about Jumaniyoz, as far as… sexual misdemeanours go, anyway.”

“Okay, well, we’ll see, won’t we? I don’t suppose any harm will come of it if we’re both there. Now, grab those skis and let’s get going,” Paul said. “I’ve planned a route that will take in all the sights and make the best use of the daylight.”

“Okay, Paul. Lead on.”

They took a ski lift to the top of the mountain behind the hotel and skied down the easiest route, just to get back into the swing of things. Towards the bottom of the run, there were lights strung amongst the trees and on specially erected poles, with a neon representation of Santa’s sleigh piled with presents suspended above an outdoor ice rink that lay between the hotel and the car parks.

Interspersed with the trees and poles, were animatronic snowmen. About 6 feet high, they consisted of two white round balls, with ‘faces’ of fixed red grins, a narrow twig-like nose and small dark eyes that flashed brightly when someone went past. These sensors caused the snowman to emit a throaty ‘ho-ho-ho’-style chuckle and wave both its arms.

“Call me a wimp,” Paul said, as they skidded to a stop at the end of the run, “but those snowmen are creepy. A bit like scary clowns, if you know what I mean?”

“More annoying than creepy,” Dianne said, as she stared back up the slope. “That laugh’s going to get very irritating very quickly.”

“It must all be a part of the Christmas Extravaganza that starts this evening,” Paul said, pointing a ski pole back up the slope to the small concrete building that housed the winch gear. “Look over there, see it? A robot Santa in a real sleigh complete with Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blixen.”

“But no Rudolph,” Dianne pointed out, with a laugh.

“I expect they’re holding Rudolph in reserve.”

“Could well be. Maybe he’ll show up at the Extravaganza? You know, we don’t have to go along, but it could be fun. They’re going to have local craft stalls as well as events. I might find some tree presents or last minute gifts for the girls. And I still need to find something for Adam; he always buys me something really nice and I struggle to return the favour.”

“He doesn’t buy them,” Paul explained. “He tells his mother to buy them and she ships them up to Cloudbase.”

“Oh, I know that; Karen’s told me that’s what he does, but I don’t mind; his mother has excellent taste and ensures that he always gives me – and the other girls - something lovely. So far, all I have for him is a box of pale blue monogrammed hankies from Liberty’s. Hardly spectacular, I’m sure you’ll agree?”

“What do you buy the man who has everything?” Paul remarked casually, as they trudged back to the ski-lift. “I have this problem twice a year. Trouble is, he makes it worse by saying ‘you don’t have to buy me anything’ and, what’s even worse is he means it. So, of course, I have to get him something then. Even my mother’s running out of ideas now.”

Dianne grinned up at him. “You two men are just…” She sighed, shaking her head. “But, I know what you mean, and you’ve just reminded me that I need to find something a little bit special for your mother too…”

Paul laughed. “Okay, I get the message, Di. We’re going to the Extravaganza, scary snowmen or no scary snowmen!”

They spent the rest of the day away from the resort, exploring the mountains and admiring the scenery. They were both competent skiers and only returned to the hotel in the late afternoon, as the light began to fade. From a distance the gaily-coloured lights in the trees looked magical. There was a queue of cars at the resort entrance, obviously full of people coming for the evening’s entertainments.

“Good job I booked a table for dinner,” Paul remarked, as they returned the skis to reception and made their way towards the lift.

“Yes, I’m famished! But don’t forget we’ve got drinks with Jumaniyoz at eight,” she replied. “And I have that spa treatment you booked me in for too, so I’m going to look like a peeled prawn when we turn up there.”

“You could never look anything other than beautiful,” he assured her, as the lift whisked them up to the seventh floor.

“I’ll change and take my dressing gown with me to the spa. What do you plan to do while I’m away? Apart from shower and shave, of course.”

Paul opened the door and stepped into their room, switching the light on as he did so.

“Oh Paul!” Dianne gasped.

The room was a mess: the drawers and wardrobes had been emptied onto the floor and their cases lay open on the bed.

“What did you do with your jewellery?” he asked.

“Put it in the hotel safe, of course,” she replied, “but this doesn’t look like a robbery, Paul. Even if the jewellery wasn’t here, some of those couture dresses would fetch a good price, not to mention our luggage.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I reckon Jumaniyoz’s goons have turned the place over as part of the pre-drinkies security checks.”

She glanced at him. “Did you bring any of your ‘work’ things?”

“I have a radio, some ID and a gun. All of them are on my person and never leave my side.”

“So much for having a holiday,” she moaned, and flopped down onto the bed.

“Di, you know how it is. I have to go if I’m needed.”

“Of course you do, darling. I do know. Do we call reception about all this?”

“No, that would cause more trouble. I don’t want the local police involved and anyway, once they knew who the chief suspects were, they’d only cry ‘diplomatic immunity’ and probably put us in gaol. You go and have your spa session as if nothing has happened and I’ll tidy up. A quiet word with the Supreme President ought to be enough to ensure this never happens again.”

“What will you tell him?”

“Enough. Now, you go and have your spa session and don’t worry about this. I’ll sort it out.”

“Okay, Paul.”

Dianne felt refreshed and invigorated after her spa session. She felt sure that Paul would have been able to sort things out, warn off Jumaniyoz’s heavies and that the rest of their holiday would consist of nothing but the small pleasures she’d so looked forward to.

When she got back, the room was certainly tidier. But there was no sign of Paul. There was a small pile of miscellaneous items that it had been beyond his wit to find a home for, so she put them away with a tender smile.

Then she looked around for some note to say where he’d gone, but found nothing. She rang Reception and asked for any messages: there were none. She dressed carefully for the engagement with President Jumaniyoz, while sombrely considering if she ought to contact Cloudbase and report Captain Scarlet’s unexpected disappearance in circumstances that could suggest political thuggery, if not actual maleficence.

She glanced at the clock. 7:45pm… it occurred to her that Paul might have gone early, perhaps with the idea of challenging Jumaniyoz’s bodyguards over their actions, but if so, he really ought to have left a note because – unlike Adam seemed to - she couldn’t always second-guess his mind. She left a note by the phone saying that she had gone up to the President’s suite as arranged, and, at the last minute, slipped a small pearl-handled gun into her clutch bag. It had been a present from her mentor Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward during the time they’d worked together, and she’d always considered it more of a good luck charm than a weapon, but it was functional and having it with her was reassuring.

When the lift opened onto the sixth floor, it revealed a corridor lined with security men. Jumaniyoz was a controversial figure in world politics and, Dianne supposed, felt that he could never be too careful, even here at Paradise Peaks.

“I have an appointment with the Supreme President,” she explained to the man who appeared to be in charge.

He nodded and escorted her to the main door of the suite. She could hear voices inside and as the door opened to his knock, she recognised one of them as Paul’s.

He came over to greet her, a smile on his face, but wariness in his eyes. “Hello, darling. My word, you look lovely tonight.”

“Hello, Paul. Thank you. I had a wonderfully relaxing time at the spa.” She turned to Jumaniyoz. “Good evening, Mr President, how nice to see you again.”

“Dear lady, the pleasure is all mine.”

He graciously conducted her to an armchair and snapped his fingers to one of his staff.

“What would you care to drink, Miss Simms? We have a wide collection of excellent beverages.”

“A small gin-and-It, if you have one?”

The waiter nodded and went towards the well-stocked bar.

“It seems that we do have it,” Jumaniyoz said, with a slightly bemused smile. “Forgive me, I do not know so many drinks. Myself, I do not drink alcohol.”

“Forgive me, Mr President, I should have thought. A soda water and lime will do as well.”

“No, no. My guests shall have what they wish for. I invited you for drinks and I know many think that means alcohol. I ordered them to make provision. It is my pleasure.”

“You are very kind.” Dianne smiled and took the drink the waiter presented to her on a silver tray.

When they were unlikely to be overheard, Jumaniyoz said quietly:

“Colonel Metcalfe has spoken to me of the unpardonable intrusion into your rooms, my dear lady, and I wish to make my apologies. My Security Chief of Staff is, as you know, very thorough but he has over-stepped the mark and I will reprimand him accordingly.”

“I can’t deny that it was a terrible shock, sir; but the man was only doing his job,” she replied, glancing at Paul to see if this reaction was what he wanted. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Jumaniyoz continued, “Please to accept my apologies on behalf of the people of Khorasam, and this small gift, as a token of our grief at upsetting you.”

He handed her a large, square, leather box, decorated with an elaborate pokerwork design. Inside, nestled on a padded bed of dark silk, were a pair of ornate silver earrings. They had an abstract design in a large circle and seven pendants of delicate silver chains, threaded with semi-precious turquoise beads.

“Oh, they’re beautiful! Thank you so much, sir.”

“In my country it is a traditional design,” he explained. “The symbol in the middle is a ram’s horn. It represents good fortune.”

“I will treasure them,” she assured him, handing the box to Paul, so he could examine them.

“Magnificent,” he said, handing the box back. “Very generous of you, sir.”

Jumaniyoz inclined his head, highly gratified at his gift’s reception. “But now, my dear young friends, you must tell me what you think of this remarkable place we are in.”

They spent just over an hour with Jumaniyoz, before he explained that he had another appointment and they bade him goodnight.

“He’s a strange man,” Dianne remarked, once they were back in their own room. “But I quite like him.”

“That ‘my English isn’t very good’ act slips sometimes,” Paul replied.

“His English is excellent.”

“So it should be, he studied at the London School of Economics.”

She laughed. “Politicians – you can never trust them, can you? What’s he doing here, Paul; did you find out?

He shook his head. “Not in so many words, but I did find out that President Olafson is staying nearby, so I suspect it is some hush-hush trade talks, or a security matter.”

“How did you find out?” she asked, giving him a wry glance.

He grinned. “I spoke to Adam, of course, and he spoke to Seymour.”

“You can take Captain Scarlet off Cloudbase, but you can’t take him out of Spectrum, eh?”

“We agreed, Di.”

“So we did and I’m not nagging – honest. How was Adam? And Karen?”

“He was fine and she wasn’t mentioned.”

Dianne rolled her eyes. “They’ve fallen out again, haven’t they?”

“I have no idea,” Paul replied, his amusement obvious in his tone, “and I didn’t ask. Now, are you going to wear your lovely new earrings, or put them in the hotel safe when we go down to dinner?”

“They are beautiful, but a trifle ostentatious and they won’t go with this dress, so I think it is the safe for tonight. Let’s go and eat. I’m ravenous; it must be all this fresh mountain air!”

The restaurant was full and the Paradise Quartet had difficulty making themselves heard over the chatter. Dianne told Paul about Lady Penelope’s adventure at Paradise Peaks under cover as ‘Wanda Lamour’, a vocalist with the Cass Carnaby Five.

“I don’t think this combo could sabotage any plane,” he remarked genially. “You can hardly hear them!”

Dianne agreed. “But you can see why I’ve always wanted to come here, can’t you? I can’t wait to tell Penny that I finally made it.”

“Does she know you’re in Spectrum?”

She blushed. “Not officially, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have found out. Penny has contacts across the globe.”

The music stopped and the manager of the hotel came to the microphone.

“Mesdames et Messieurs, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paradise Peaks! Tonight is the opening of our fantastic Christmas Extravaganza! I invite you all to go down to the sporting enclosure, where a Christmas market is taking place, with fair rides, and on the ice rink, an ice-dancing show will commence in thirty minutes. But before that, please step out onto our terrace, to witness our most honoured guests, His Excellency, President Jumaniyoz of Khorasam and President Olafson of the European Triumvirate, start proceedings by switching on our exclusive, state-of-the-art animatronics show!”

There was a ripple of excited applause.

“You don’t think he came here just to do that?” Dianne remarked in surprise.

“No; but Olafson might have and if they’ve been in talks, perhaps Olafson suggested Jumaniyoz join him, as a show of Euro-Khorasi friendship?”

“I didn’t think they were that friendly.”

“They aren’t, but Khorasam has something the Triumvirate wants. Plus, there is the added bonus that it will annoy the hell out of the Bereznians.”

She grinned at him. “Did you ever consider the diplomatic service as a career, Paul?”

“Oddly enough: no.”

“I wonder why ever not?” she teased.

Out on the balcony there was a superb view over the sporting arena. The ice rink was floodlit and there were now coloured bulbs strung between the posts and the entrance to the ski lift. A dais had been erected and the wooden frame was draped with European and Khorasi flags amongst hundreds of coloured lights. A uniformed band marched up and down, making a great deal more noise than the Paradise Quartet. At the moment Dianne and Paul took their places they were playing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ with some enthusiasm.

“It’s quite exciting, isn’t it?” she asked, turning to smile up at Paul. But her smile faded as she saw the frown etched between his dark brows. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, the frown deepening. His face had gone deathly pale and a film of sweat glistened on his skin.

“Paul?” She placed a hand on his arm.

Captain Blue had often spoken about what he called ‘Scarlet’s sixth sense’: a mysterious ability to sense the presence of danger, especially Mysteron-induced danger. Dianne had never witnessed it before, but she had no doubt that this was what was affecting her fiancé.

“Paul, what’s wrong?” she repeated urgently.

“I don’t know,” he replied slowly, his voice sounding distant, as if his very soul had evacuated his body. “There is something… I can’t focus on it.”

“The Mysterons?”

He shook his head. “I… I don’t know. There is something out there.” He pointed towards the mountain slopes beyond the resort.

“We should check with base,” she said.

“No time.” He was suddenly much more authoritative as the moment of faintness evaporated. “I must get down there!”

He turned and pushed his way back through the crowd, ignoring their protests at his perceived ‘rudeness’.

Muttering apologies, Dianne followed him.

The Khorasi national anthem started playing loudly over the hotel’s sound system as Paul raced across the foyer. Knowing that she couldn’t keep pace in her evening gown and heels, Dianne paused and hurried to the lift, pulling her Spectrum communicator out of her clutch bag as the door closed and the mechanism began to work.

“Rhapsody to Cloudbase, can you hear me?”

“Receiving you strength four, Rhapsody.”

“Has there been a Mysteron threat – a recent one, I mean?”

“Cloudbase is on action stations,”  Lieutenant Green admitted, “but it is nothing to do with where you are.”

“What was it?”

“There was the usual introduction about revenge and then they said: ‘Khorasam has reached the peak and everything will slide into chaos when the snow takes revenge’. Captain Blue and Captain Ochre have flown to Xiva and the Angels are patrolling the oil fields and pipelines. We don’t quite know what to expect. The weather stations say that there is no snow forecast, despite the cold, but we know the Mysterons have pow-”

“Lieutenant, it has nothing to do with pipe lines or oil fields! The Khorasi President is here, at Paradise Peaks, about to open a Christmas fete with President Olafson. Captain Scarlet sensed something was wrong. He’s gone outside to see if he can prevent whatever-it-is from happening. I’m about to go after him.”

“Holy smoke! S.I.G., Rhapsody; I’ll inform Colonel White. Captain Grey and Magenta are on base and can leave immediately.”

The lift door opened and Dianne ran to their room, struggling with the electronic key as she continued to talk to Cloudbase.

“Hurry, Seymour! The very least we have to worry about is that President Jumaniyoz has a small army of security staff with him, and at the first sign of danger I wouldn’t be surprised if they opened fire indiscriminately. Hundreds could die! The Triumvirate would never be able to support Khorasam against Bereznik after that. I’m not sure what we can do to prevent disaster, but I know Captain Scarlet will die trying.”

Dianne quickly made the transformation to Rhapsody Angel, throwing off her evening gown and stepping into her winter sports gear, before slipping her communicator and pistol into the pockets of her padded coat. Grabbing her ski gloves, she ran back to the lift and urged it to ‘hurry up!” on its descent to the ground floor.

Her communicator bleeped and she opened it.

“What?” she snapped.

“Rhapsody Angel, this is Colonel White.”

Oh great, I’m in for it now! she thought, but the colonel was above such petty concerns.

“I agree that your surmise about the meaning of the Mysteron threat is plausible. We cannot afford to take chances. Evacuate the buildings and, as far as possible, clear the area of civilians.”

“S.I.G., sir.”

“Then, offer the dignitaries as much protection as possible until Grey and Magenta or Blue and Ochre arrive. Both teams have been despatched to the danger zone and the Angel flight will reach you before either of them. Spectrum Geneva has been alerted and ground troops will be on their way shortly.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll do what we can.”

“Good; and Rhapsody…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take care. Cloudbase out.”

“Yes, sir, you old pussycat,” she muttered, as she closed the communicator and slipped it back into her pocket.

She gave a moment’s thought about how to evacuate the building, and then broke the glass on the nearest fire alarm with her elbow. Immediately a piercing wail started and distant bells clanged. The staff stopped what they were doing in alarmed surprise and, being well-trained, started to urge people away from the bars, shopping concessions and reception counters, preventing them from rushing to the lifts to fetch their belongings and ushering them out into the frosty night.

That should do it. Now: to join Paul.

When Captain Scarlet reached the security cordon around the dais he was faced with the problem of trying to convince the guards to let him through. The wailing fire alarms had spooked the crowd and there was a ripple of unease as more people came out into the arena. Under the circumstances, the security guards were not open to reasoned argument.

“There’s something wrong,” Scarlet said forcefully, hampered by not being able to explain exactly what he feared and who he was. “Listen to those alarms! The presidents are in danger!”

The guard was not convinced and in halting English, asked Scarlet to step away before he was arrested.

“Look, I work for… for the World Government. President Jumaniyoz knows me. Let me through!”

Two burly guards dragged him away to the edge of the crowd listening to Olafson who, apparently unaware of the fire alarms, was making the same short speech in French, German and English.

“I now call upon my honoured guest, the Supreme President of Khorasam, to join me in declaring this extravaganza, open!”

“Great is my pleasure in so doing,” Jumaniyoz replied. “The people of Khorasam wish the people of Europe joyous festivities and send kind feelings of brotherhood to all men.”

Together, the two men pushed a large red lever forward and all around the enclosure lights flickered on while the band played ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas’. The centrepiece of the display was the neon-coloured Santa in his sleigh, which flickered back and forth along the length of the ice rink. At least it had the effect of distracting attention from the red warning lights over at the hotel.

Reassured by the politicians’ calmness, the crowd cheered enthusiastically as the two men shook hands and waved to the watching throng. Cameras flashed as journalists recorded the moment for posterity.

Absolutely nothing untoward happened. Captain Scarlet became even more concerned.

Rhapsody was drawing close to where Scarlet was being interrogated by the security guards. She could see that her fiancé’s anxiety had not lessened: he was paler than ever and under the glare of the lights she could see an unhealthy sheen of sweat on his face. Obviously, his sixth sense was still telling him that something was wrong.

She studied the surrounding area. The ski slope was now illuminated all the way to the top of the ski lift and a laser light show reached up into the darkness throwing a fountain of colours against the backdrop of the snow-white mountain tops. It was nothing if not spectacular.

As well as the resident guests, there were many local families who had come specifically for this event and hundreds of children, captivated by the wonderful sights, were shouting excitedly, jumping about waving flags and clapping their hands, all of which added to the exuberant carnival-like atmosphere.

Smiling, despite her own anxiety, Rhapsody looked up the ski-slope in the direction that several children were pointing.

The animatronic snowmen were all moving slowly down the slope in a jerky line, their grating ho-ho-ho getting louder as they approached. Behind them came the life-size animatronic Santa: six enormous reindeer, gaily–painted sleigh and all. It was indeed a spectacular sight and the nearest child was asking her amused parents if ‘Santa’ would have presents for them all.

“Peut-être, Jeanette. L'hôtel a bien dit qu'il y aurait des surprises pour tout le monde.”

Rhapsody was distracted by a shout and turned to see Scarlet make a break from his guards and dash towards the two politicians. She also broke into a run, dodging the groups of people who were already starting to move towards the ice rink and the craft stalls.

“Stop!” one of the guards screamed after Scarlet and drew his gun. Luckily, there were too many people for him to risk a shot and he started running after his prisoner.

Rhapsody dodged two small children and changed direction towards the dais. Captain Scarlet had reached the steps and with a mighty right hook dealt with the security guard at the foot of them. He sprinted towards the astonished Olafson and Jumaniyoz, who were still together by the lever, milking the approval of the crowd.

As he approached a shot rang out and with a cry of pain, Olafson fell to the floor.

“Get down, Mr President!” Scarlet yelled at Jumaniyoz. “The Mysterons are attacking!”

With a flying rugby tackle, Scarlet brought Jumaniyoz down behind the wooden bench that held the power switch, which was the only cover available, and, as much as he could, shielded both presidents with his body.

Screams rang out as people realised the area was under fire, and groups scattered in all directions. Rhapsody reached the steps and dodged several guards, as they raced in the direction of the shooting. She skidded to her knees beside Scarlet and the presidents.

“Where’s it coming from?” she gasped. “The guards are as bemused as me. It isn’t one of them.”

Scarlet pointed up the slope. “The snowmen.”

Open-mouthed in surprise, Rhapsody followed his pointing finger. The two dozen animatronic snowmen had changed direction and were moving towards the dais; each had an extended arm, from which emerged the nozzle of a weapon.

“How on Earth?” she asked.

“Captain Black. That’s who I could sense. I’m afraid the Paradise Peaks version of Santa Claus isn’t interested in whether we’ve been naughty or nice. He’s just out to kill us all.”

Rhapsody examined Olafson, who was clutching his shoulder and weeping in pain and shock.

“He needs medical help and soon,” she confirmed. “Lie still, Mr Olafson, help is on the way.”

“Is it?” said Scarlet.

“Yes; I contacted Cloudbase and the Angels are on their way, along with several colour-captains.”

“Spectrum?” Olafson gasped. “Now I recognise you! You’re Captain Scarlet. John Henderson told me about you.”

“Yes, I’m Scarlet. Now take it easy, Mr President.”

“I do not understand,” Jumaniyoz said. “What is happening?”

“Colonel Metcalfe and I are Spectrum officers, Mr President,” Rhapsody explained. “Please, do as we ask. Keep down and maybe we’ll all get out of this alive.”

“Who is attacking us?”

“We believe it is the Mysterons, sir. Their premier agent, the renegade Spectrum officer, Conrad Turner, who was codenamed Captain Black, is here. Our base received a warning that they intended to attack you.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Olafson asked.

Rhapsody paused for a moment; to admit they were there by accident might make things even more complicated.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“And are you really the daughter of Lord Robert Simms?” Jumaniyoz said wistfully.

She smiled at him.

“Never mind that,” Scarlet interrupted, before she could answer. “We need to get you and President Olafson to safety.”

He turned to look towards the hotel. The snowy ground had been churned up by a multitude of feet, and there were several bodies between the arena and the car parks. Where the snow remained, it was speckled with blood-red spots.

“Do you know who started the fire alarms?” Scarlet asked.

“I did,” Rhapsody admitted. “On Colonel White’s orders. He must’ve assumed the presidents were inside, so that the hotel would be a target. I’m afraid I didn’t think to point out his error. Sorry, Paul.”

“Hmm. Well, it hasn’t helped,” was Scarlet’s dour response. “Assuming the snowmen are aiming at anybody in particular, they’re lousy shots and there were so many people milling about it’s no surprise there’re casualties. Still, the fact that they don’t seem to be able to hit a barn door at fifty paces might mean we can get the presidents inside, to comparative safety.”

Rhapsody shook her head. “It’s some distance, Captain, and all in the open.” She turned back towards the slope. “Even if the snowmen are lousy shots, they’ve lined up across the mountain side and they’re shooting at anything that moves. We can’t rely on the security men to help, they’re pinned down just like we are. I don’t see how we can…”

“Santa’s sleigh.”

“What?”

“I’m going to hijack Santa’s sleigh.”

“You think you can sweet-talk the reindeer into going where you want them to?”

He grinned. “No, I always leave the sweet-talking to you.” His face grew serious again and he continued, “Black’s in that sleigh, I’m sure of it. If I can get to him, I think we may find that the attack falters or even stops. If it doesn’t, we’ll have the sleigh as cover.”

“Paul, do you really think it’ll work?”

He smiled at her. “I certainly hope so, but right now I don’t have any other ideas, do you?”

Rhapsody shook her head.

“Keep the presidents here and wait for the sleigh. When I give the signal, you make sure Jumaniyoz gets into the sleigh and I’ll come and help Olafson. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Good luck, darling,” she whispered, as Scarlet got to his feet and sprinted for the stairs.

Slithering in the slippery mud, Scarlet zig-zagged his way across the event arena towards the cover of the ski lift. Several shots came close, and one even hit him in the arm, but he made it to safety with only the slightest flesh wound, and he knew that his retrometabolism would soon take care of that. Pressing his back against the wall of the ski lift engine room, he stood motionless, catching his breath through teeth gritted against the searing pain and took careful note of where the snowmen were.

There was a ragged line of them still moving down the slope, taking the occasional pot-shot at anything that moved, even the bunting strung between the trees.

So, they can see movement and they’re programmed to fire at it, but they don’t understand what it is they’re firing at, he reasoned. I need to let them to get closer, so I can get behind them and then… the sleigh…

He turned his attention to the sleigh. The animatronic reindeer moved jerkily, but with a purpose lacking in the dogged descent of the snowmen: they were obviously being ‘driven’ in a way the snowmen weren’t. Scarlet concentrated his gaze on the ‘Santa’ figure in the driving seat. There was no doubt it just did not have the same artificial look about it that it had had when they’d first seen it, and, with a satisfied nod of his head, he realised the ‘Santa’ figure was none other than his arch-enemy, Captain Black.

The Mysteron agent looked as hollow-eyed as ever, beneath the obviously fake white beard that obscured most of his face.

I was sure he was somewhere about! How dare he appropriate Santa Claus for his evil? Is nothing sacred?

Wary of being noticed by the Mysterons’ agents, Scarlet slipped around the side of the winch room and waited. Long minutes passed before he peered around the corner again. One of the line of snowmen was now level with him, and only about fifteen feet away but, to his relief, Santa’s sleigh was still at some distance. It was moving slowly towards the presidential dais and it seemed that even the Mysterons could not speed up the mechanical animatronics of the reindeer that gave the sleigh its mobility.

Nevertheless, time was running out.

Close up, Scarlet noted that the snowmen moved on basic caterpillar tracks and deep within the dark eyes of the nearest snowman tiny red lights glowed and flashed. With a grin, he realised they were the movement sensors, no doubt originally intended to do no more than activate the arm waving, ho-ho-ho greeting.

Spectrum had known for some time that the Mysterons were capable of taking over machinery as well as human beings and, in the case of inanimate objects, they didn’t always have to destroy them completely first – or so it appeared from the cases they’d investigated.

Black’s presence must be allowing the Mysterons to control the snowmen; and, as I really can’t imagine they were originally equipped with built-in weaponry, Black must’ve done some D-I-Y on them. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to disrupt them; they’re not that sophisticated, after all.

Scarlet moved stealthily until he was behind the nearest snowman. Grabbing it round its middle, he swivelled it on its tracks so that it was facing along the line of snowmen rather than down the slope. As he’d expected, the sensors detected movement and the snowman fired.

Ho-ho-ho!

The next snowman in the line wobbled unsteadily and smoke began to pour out of the joints. Its gun fired wildly and as Scarlet’s snowman fired again, it toppled over and exploded with a satisfying bang.

Scarlet had darted back behind the shelter of the engine room the moment ‘his’ snowman had fired, as the last thing he wanted was for Black to realise that he was the cause of the ‘malfunction’. He gave a wicked grin as he heard the snowman firing again, and peered round in time to see a second snowman explode.

That should keep Black occupied while I … he sighed… try and get onto the sleigh. After all, every Santa needs a little helper…

He’d given some thought as to how he was going to get onto the sleigh and now he jumped onto the ski lift as a seat went by and let it lift him up towards the summit. He intended to get behind Black and launch a surprise attack, but as his ski-seat cleared the building, he saw that the sleigh had changed its trajectory and was moving ponderously towards the murderous snowman, which had just destroyed another of its colleagues.

As the lift continued to carry him higher, Scarlet realised it would now pass above the sleigh, and no sooner had an alternative idea popped into his mind, than he acted on it. He slid off the seat, hanging at full stretch as it jerked upwards and then let go as the sleigh passed beneath him. It was more by luck than judgement that he landed heavily on Captain Black.

The force of his landing tipped the sleigh upwards, snapping the traces that connected it to the reindeers. Close to, it was apparent that the reindeer were far larger than life, no doubt in order to pull the heavy, wooden sleigh, but deprived of their power source they stuttered to a halt and several of them fell over. Under the impetus of Scarlet’s fall, the sleigh spun round and began to slide down the slope independently, gathering speed.

Black was incapacitated for just long enough for Scarlet to get to his feet and throw a punch. He smiled with a grim satisfaction as his fist connected with Black’s jaw.

“Happy Christmas, Conrad,” he snarled.

“Scarlet! I might’ve known you’d turn up,” Black retorted, manipulating his jaw with one hand as he struggled to get upright again.

Scarlet punched again, but this time Black was ready for him. He parried the blow and pounded his fist into Scarlet’s stomach, winding the younger man.

Scarlet fell back with a gasp and Black threw himself on top of him. Grabbing Scarlet’s hair, he began banging his head up and down hard onto the reinforced edge of the sleigh. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Scarlet squirmed to get his arms free and pushed with all of his might against Black’s shoulders. He managed to create just enough room for him to bring his knee up high enough to kick Black in the groin.

Mysteron or not, that was enough to break Black’s hold and he fell back, his eyes watering.

Scarlet went onto the attack; pulling his assailant to his feet he threw another punch into his face. Black slipped and as Scarlet threw himself towards him, the sleigh bucketed over a ridge in the snow and tipped them out onto the hard compacted snow. Black was up first; he aimed a kick at Scarlet, connecting with his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. He threw himself down on his enemy, but Scarlet had squirmed away and the lunge missed.

The fight became a brutal and vicious street brawl with no holds barred. Both men kicked and punched, swerved and slithered on the icy surface as they sought for dominance. Scarlet broke Black’s nose with a wild punch, feeling a bone in his hand snap from the impact even as a wave of satisfaction surged through him. Blood stained the snow as both men were cut and grazed and it was increasingly difficult to keep their balance as the surface became churned up, but they fought on, neither man willing to admit defeat.

They were standing just out of each other’s reach, circling warily while trying to catch their breath and recoup their strength, when Black said:

“You can’t defeat me, Scarlet.”

“Sod off out of it; go back to your alien masters, Conrad, if you’re so worried about fighting me.”

Black wearily parried another punch. “The Mysterons will be revenged,” he growled.

“Yada-yada-yada… heard it all before. I am not going to let you attack those people,” Scarlet panted.

A grim smile played at the corner of Black’s bruised mouth. “I was never going to attack them,” he taunted.

Momentarily disconcerted, Scarlet turned his head to see what possible threat he might’ve missed, and in that micro-second of distraction, Black struck.

The pair went down locked in a grim embrace as Black tried to throttle Scarlet with his bare hands. They started to slide down the mountainside, gathering speed and rolled over a small precipice into a deep snow drift, but their impetus carried them on. Snow was sticking to their already damp and ice-cold clothes, and it impeded their movements, preventing any further exchange of punches but binding them together like a giant snowball.

In the distance Scarlet heard the sound of gunfire and explosions.

Damn it… this was all a diversion from the real attack… Dianne!

With superhuman effort, he finally broke Black’s hold on him, by pushing his thumbs into his eye sockets. Cursing, Black let go and their fall came to an end in a jumble of limbs and a pile of snow.

Scarlet crawled away, wiping his hands on his trousers, and staggered to his feet. Ignoring the chaos behind him, he looked down towards the events arena. There were flames amongst the Christmas stalls and the coloured lights were sparking randomly, as the cable swung about in the increasingly forceful wind, the power earthing itself in the ground in jagged flashes of blue-white energy.

Scarlet registered it as a potential threat: he had known that electricity was his Achilles heel ever since Spectrum had discovered that Mysteron agents could only be killed with any certainty by electrocution. There was always the slight possibility that it wouldn’t happen to him, given his unique status as the only human being to escape the Mysterons’ thrall, but they’d never dared risk finding out for sure.

Scarlet started running downhill towards the ruined dais, stumbling and slipping as he went, but driven onwards by fear that Dianne might have been hurt. The danger to the politicians posed by the attack was very much a secondary concern, but he was conscious of it, nevertheless.

The line of snowmen assassins had been broken by ‘his’ snowman, but there were still enough of them to pose a threat to anyone moving around the dais or in the event arena. As he was still behind them, he was safe from attack, or so he thought, until a bullet whizzed past him from away in the trees.

He looked that way to see where it came from, but carried on towards the arena area. He thought he could see a man-shaped figure camouflaged in white moving in the trees.

Hell and damnation! That must be our security forces, who think I’m a danger to the presidents… or they might be just more Mysterons. He gave a snort of derision at himself… ‘Just’ – who am I kidding…?

He jinked away from the trees, trying to keep behind the animatronic assassins so that they provided a shield, however inadequate: a good marksman would have no difficulty picking him off.

But his luck was in. Captain Black had also survived and had finally staggered to his feet. One eye socket was empty and his face was covered in bloody matter, but he was still in dogged pursuit of his quarry: Captain Scarlet.

The marksmen in the trees turned their attention to the new target and a volley of shots thudded into the snow around the fast-moving Captain Black. Pausing to glance behind, Scarlet thought some of the bullets had hit Black, but if they had, they did not impede his progress.

Cursing, Scarlet took off again, running in a zig-zag towards the Presidential dais, taking care to dodge the sparking electricity cables. The snowmen’s aim was as inaccurate as ever and posed very little threat, but he was conscious that it would not be long before the security marksmen turned their attention back to him.

He glanced up and saw Dianne standing in the middle of the dais, waving to him as he approached.

“Get down!” he yelled. “They’ll shoot you!” His throat was still sore from Black’s attempted strangulation and he cursed as his voice gave out on him. “Get down, Di; for God’s sake, get down,” he croaked in barely a whisper.

One of the snowmen was attracted by her movement and a shot – thankfully wide of its target – whizzed in her direction. She got the message and dropped out of sight immediately.

Scarlet increased his speed, skirting the immediate area of the dais so as not to put Dianne and the presidents in jeopardy; he planned to approach from the far side, effectively using the structure as a screen. The pains and bruises of his fight were becoming a faint memory as his retrometabolism kicked in, but he was very thirsty and, even though he knew he’d pay for it later, he ignored the gnawing hunger that always accompanied a recovery.

A security guard ran out of the trees ahead of him and paused just long enough to take aim at him. Scarlet darted behind the first of the Christmas fair booths and found to his delight that it was a gingerbread stall. He grabbed a handful of gingerbread men and crammed them into his mouth as he dropped to a crawl and continued to make his way towards the presidents on the dais.

The wail of the emergency sirens in conjunction with the hotel’s alarms was deafening. The fire engines and police cars that had arrived in response to the fire alarm were adding to the confusion that had already been caused by the hotel staff’s attempts to evacuate the building. At the same time Spectrum’s newly-arrived ground forces were trying to prevent anyone from leaving before they had been tested with a Mysteron Detector. Consequently, there were many hundreds of frightened and confused people milling about, which provided ample cover for Scarlet to move towards his destination, but effectively blocked him from keeping track of Captain Black’s movements.

He was nearing the dais steps, when the movement of the crowd forced him to take a step back. He saw two medics with a stretcher climbing the stairs.

“Keep down!” he shouted, and, responding instinctively to the tone of command, the men ducked, just as a bullet whizzed over their heads.

Startled, the group of people closest to Scarlet made concerted efforts to move away from him, leaving enough room for him to get closer to the dais.

“What are you doing?” he demanded in a stentorian shout.

“Olafson needs medical attention,” one medic replied in accented English, even although he wasn’t sure where in the crowd the questions were coming from. “We’re moving him to the ambulance.”

“Machen Sie einen Weg frei!” one of the presidential security guards ordered. “Faites place! Clear a pathway!”

Scarlet tried to resist the surge of the crowd, who were trying to obey that order, but he was swept along by the tide of humanity towards the ice rink and had to watch the security men help Olafson crawl onto the stretcher and then slide it across the dais towards the waiting ambulance men crouching on the steps.

At least they’ve learned to keep their heads down, he thought. I wonder where Dianne and Jumaniyoz are. Just be careful, my darling girl...

The stretcher-bearers were not making much progress as they tried to carry Olafson to safety while remaining in a crouch to protect themselves from gunshots. From the way they were laughing and applauding, some of the crowd apparently thought they were watching a kind of comedy performance, but Scarlet could see there was still danger all around. He was torn between following the stretcher and returning to the dais to help President Jumaniyoz and, more importantly, Dianne.

He hesitated, and suddenly realised the shooting had stopped.

Gradually, the crowd’s movement took on a life of its own as people swarmed and milled about, lacking direction or purpose, but feeling safer in a throng and too anxious to stay still. The early victims of the attacks had been taken away in ambulances or police vehicles, and in an impromptu first aid station two paramedics were treating the inevitable cuts and bruises. Nearby, three nurses were busy reassuring the nervous and soothing frightened children.

Scarlet used the counter of a deserted stall to get above the heads of the crowd and peered back up the mountain.

All but the middle three snowmen had been destroyed, and the smouldering parts of the others littered the slope. The remaining snowmen had their eyes trained on the arena, and although they appeared harmless, Scarlet felt sure they were still operative and would react to any motion they detected, if the Mysterons ordered them to. The sleigh was where they’d left it, stuck on a small rock, and someone had had the good sense to turn off the power to the lights, so the trailing cables were no longer live and dangerous.

Where’s Black?

He concentrated for a moment, straining his ‘sixth sense’ to detect the presence of any Mysterons. It was known that Captain Black could be transported out of dangerous situations by his alien masters and the fact that he wasn’t to be seen could well mean they had done that now, acknowledging the failure of their threat.

Scarlet pulled out his communicator and called Cloudbase, demanding the exact wording of the threat.

“‘Khorasam has reached the peak and everything will slide into chaos when the snow takes revenge’,” Lieutenant Green quoted back in response.

“Dammit,” Scarlet hissed. “This is not over yet. The threat wasn’t against Olafson or even against the both of them, it is specifically against Jumaniyoz.”

“Colonel White here, Captain Scarlet; your duty is to protect President Jumaniyoz at all costs. Do you understand? No harm must come to the Supreme President.”

Spectrum’s commander-in-chief rarely revealed any trace of anxiety, however perilous the situation seemed, but this time Scarlet detected a slight tremor in his voice and realised The Old Man was worried.

“Understood, Colonel,” he replied as calmly as he could. “You can trust Rhapsody and me to do our best. I’m sure Captain Black is still around here and that he has something else up his sleeve even now. The Mysterons just don’t give up so easily.”

“Captain Blue reports that he’ll be with you in about ten minutes,” Green advised him.

“Good, tell him to find me or Rhapsody, with luck we’ll both be with President Jumaniyoz.” Scarlet paused and then added, “Oh, and Greenie, tell him to get a move on. Scarlet out.”

Rhapsody peered around the edge of the dais to watch President Olafson’s stretcher party vanish into the crowd and then turned to President Jumaniyoz, who was crouched beneath the bench that held the electrical switch.

“He should be safe very soon,” she assured him. “There are enough police and I saw some Spectrum ground forces out. They’ll make sure his ambulance gets away quickly. I think he’ll make a full recovery.”

“That is good – for him,” Jumaniyoz replied grumpily. “But what shall we do, Miss Simms? Your fiancé seems to have vanished and where is the rescue party for us?”

“No, he is there. I saw him. I think he’s trying to find out who is controlling these… snowmen and stop them.”

“You know more than you are saying to me,” Jumaniyoz said warily. “I thought you an unspoilt young lady, but you disappoint me.”

“With respect, Mr President, the sort of ‘unspoilt young lady’ I imagine you mean became the stuff of legend over a century ago. I have built a career for myself in the security services, and I’m proud of what I’ve done. What is more, I am good at what I do and don’t need any rescue party to protect me – or you.”

He gave her an apologetic nod and an admiring smile. “I see that Spectrum chooses its personnel wisely. So now, Miss Simms, what do we do?”

She looked back up the mountain.

“Captain Scarlet said he was going to send the sleigh down for us, but it looks to be stuck and the reindeer are no longer attached, so I don’t think it’ll be moving any time soon. For the moment at least, I think we should stay where we are. Your remaining security men still have the perimeter surrounded, and hopefully, Scarlet and the other security forces will stop the attackers before they can even get close to us. If we move we risk drawing the enemy’s fire and Captain Scarlet won’t know where we are, which will make protecting us more difficult,” she explained.

As she finished speaking, three sleek, white, delta-winged jets swept over the area.

“The Angels!” she exclaimed, pointing skywards. “Spectrum is here!”

The planes circled round and roared back over the hotel site and down the valley.

“They are leaving!” Jumaniyoz said indignantly.

“No, it’s aerial surveillance. They’ll be reporting back on the situation and then they’ll return to support the ground offensive, as necessary.”

“Can’t they land and fly us out of here?”

She shook her head. “An Angel jet on the ground is vulnerable and, besides, the cockpit is too small. I expect there’s a magnacopter on the way. Symphony Angel is an experienced chopper pilot, so you’ll be in safe hands.”

“You know a great deal about these women pilots, for a Spectrum ground agent.”

“I’ve been fortunate enough to work with them before,” Rhapsody replied. Olafson may have revealed Paul’s Spectrum identity, but he didn’t know her, so she saw no reason to enlighten Jumaniyoz: the more confusion and uncertainty she could sow about their true identities the better.

“And Colonel Metcalfe – if that is his name - have you been fortunate to work with him before?”

She shook her head.

“You are both very good actors, then.”

“It’s our profession, Mr President. And, as Captain Scarlet is known to be the very best there is, I am honoured to work with him. Any Spectrum agent would be.”

“Are you even really Dianne Simms?”

Rhapsody smiled secretly. “I know her: she’s harmless enough.”

“Well, to me you will always be Miss Simms.”

“It is as good a name as any, Mr President, and I doubt Lady Dianne would mind sharing it.”

The Angel patrol flew overhead and Rhapsody watched Angels Two and Three peel off to fly around the area, while Angel One flew straight over the hotel and up the line of the ski lift.

Suddenly, from the shelter of the trees a ground-to-air missile erupted and zoomed upwards. Rhapsody gasped in fear, although Angel One was able to avoid it easily enough. Jumaniyoz swivelled round at the sound of her alarm. She pointed.

“It’s okay; the Angel pilot took evasive action,” she reassured him.

The night sky was lit up by an explosion as Angel Two’s air-to-air missile found its target. The noise reverberated around the caldera and echoed down the valley. Members of the crowd, still corralled together in the arena, screamed in fear or surprise and the agitation grew as, following on from the explosion, a deep, almost primordial, rumbling was heard. It grew louder and there was an ominous tremor in the ground beneath their feet.

Rhapsody had an excellent view of the avalanche as a dense slab of snow slowly broke away from the deep drift that anchored it to the mountain top and gathered speed as it careened down a steep slope.

“What are they trying to do? Kill us?” Jumaniyoz shouted, jumping to his feet in alarm.

“Keep down!” Rhapsody ordered, pulling him down beside her. A bullet whizzed by and buried itself in the back of a Khorasi security guard. He fell forward onto the near-frenzied crowd below the dais.

“The avalanche is nowhere near us,” she said, holding Jumaniyoz down. “The Angels won’t risk firing again now that’s happened. We’re in no danger as long as we keep down.”

“Where did that rocket come from? How many terrorists are there out there?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted.

“There must be hundreds!”

“Possibly, but it may just have been an automatic launcher, programmed to fire at movement, the same way the snowmen are. It doesn’t mean there is actually a large force of terrorists here. Believe me. I’m sure the marksmen are looking into it as we speak.”

“They haven’t even removed all of the snowmen yet,” he grumbled. “The European Triumvirate’s security services are not very efficient!”

“Perhaps they’re dealing with the rest of the terrorists first?” she said acerbically. “Mr President, please accept that this attack has been planned well in advance, and the whole forest may be packed with men or booby traps.”

“How could it have been? My visit here was top secret. Nobody knew about it, apart from my own Head of National Security in Xiva.”

“Why did you come at all?” she asked.

Jumaniyoz glared at her and then realised her question was a genuine one and that she, at least, was on his side. He replied, “To discuss potential Khorasi energy supplies for Europe and the possibility of European military support against… several threats to Khorasi independence: external and internal threats.”

“And just how much do you trust your Head of National Security?”

“I would have trusted him with my life. In fact, I did trust him with my life.”

Rhapsody nodded. “Perhaps, when all this is over, it might be wise to allow a Spectrum team – or even just one officer – to come to Xiva and do a little investigating,” she suggested, wondering if it was possible that the Head of National Security had been Mysteronised before all this even started. “For now, the threat to you has been at one remove: the snowmen, and while that remains the case, we’re best staying where we are and waiting for Spectrum’s orders to move when they are certain it is safe.”

She did not want to contemplate the possibility that every dead marksman became a potential recruit to an army of Mysteron agents.

Jumaniyoz appeared to accept her analysis of the situation and shuffled a little to make himself as comfortable as he could.

“Very well. Once again, Miss Simms, I will place my life in your hands.”

Oh, how bloody marvellous… she thought, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Captain Scarlet had decided it would be too much effort to try and reach the dais without support; Jumaniyoz’s security men were a trigger-happy bunch at the best of times, but now they were positively menacing and the tourists were all doing their best to keep out of their way. Even assuming he could get to the steps he was more likely to get shot on sight than welcomed with open arms.

He watched the Angel flight soaring overhead and the distant avalanche before he allowed the movement of the crowd to take him to the gate where Spectrum ground forces were checking everyone with a Mysteron Detector before allowing them out.

Can’t go that way, then.

He moved further around the edge to where he could see the roadway hoping for sight of an approaching SPV. What he saw was even better: a magnacopter, piloted in this instance by Melody Angel, was landing in the nearest car park – someone having helpfully towed the parked cars out of the way. Moments later he saw Captain Blue and Captain Ochre coming down the steps.

He drew his communicator from his pocket.

“Captain Scarlet to Captain Blue. What took you so long? I’m over here…”

Startled, Blue looked around, spotted his friend and then nudged Ochre, pointing towards Scarlet, who was waving to attract their attention. Both men changed direction and hurried to the arena barrier.

“Geh zurück und warte bis du an der Reihe bist,” a policeman warned Scarlet, as he began to climb over the barrier to greet his colleagues.

“It’s okay, officer, Dieser Herr ist uns bekannt,” Blue said. “Ich kann für ihn bürgen.”

The policeman looked intently at Captain Blue and Captain Ochre and then more sternly at the unkempt Scarlet. “Okay, Kapitän. Er gehört Ihnen.”

“Vielen Dank, Offizier.”

“Allons-y,” Scarlet said, grinning as he vaulted over and joined his colleagues. “I love it when you talk dirty…” he remarked jovially to Blue, before sobering up and adding, “Are there spare uniforms on the ‘copter?”

Ochre nodded.

“I’m going to get changed, that way I might get some respect from these groundlings. Rhapsody and Jumaniyoz are still on the dais, across the arena. He doesn’t know her codename, by the way – or at least, he didn’t. The snowmen have them pinned down. There were marksmen in the woods, but I don’t know what they’re doing now. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since they stopped taking pot shots at me.”

“We’ve confirmed that they’re Triumvirate forces,” Ochre informed him, as they walked quickly back towards the magnacopter. “I expect they’re more concerned about Olafson than anything else.”

Scarlet rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “So much for goodwill to all men in the festive season,” he grumbled. “If they’ve packed up and gone home without securing this entire area from attack, I’ll be making a formal complaint to the World President.”

“You do that,” Blue remarked, “But before then, join us at the arena gate, will you? We have a job to do.”

Scarlet nodded, but warned them, “They’re using a Mysteron Detector. How’re you going to explain me to them when I show up as a positive?”

“Leave that to me,” Blue said. “Just hurry up; The Old Man’s getting antsy.”

“S.I.G., Captain Blue.”

Scarlet ran the rest of the way, called ‘hello’ to Melody and dived into the crew quarters to get changed into his Spectrum uniform.

Melody was waiting as he came out.

“Rhapsody?” she said succinctly.

“With President Jumaniyoz. They’re hemmed down by some… mechanical assassins, but they’re safe enough – I hope.”

She nodded and said, “Good luck, Captain Scarlet,” as he walked to the exit adjusting his radio cap. “I’ll be ready for a quick take off.”

“S.I.G., Melody.”

Scarlet had much less of a problem going where he wanted to now he was in uniform. He joined Blue and Ochre by the gate and they walked through without being challenged.

“That’s slack security,” Scarlet said, frowning. “What if they let anyone in a Spectrum uniform through? Captain Black’s around here somewhere, I’m sure of it.”

Ochre grinned, shaking his head. “I’ve got no idea what Blue said to them after they’d tried to use a Mysteron Detector on us, but from the way he said it and the looks on their faces, they’d have laid down in the mud for us to walk on if he’d told them to. It sure scared the Hell outa me.”

For a moment Blue’s stern expression lifted. “German’s a good language to read the riot act in.”

Scarlet laughed. “I’d have enjoyed that.”

As they approached the dais, Jumaniyoz’s security guards trained their weapons on the Spectrum officers and challenged them.

“Captain Blue, Spectrum,” Blue announced clearly. “I’ve been sent to escort the Supreme President to safety.” He proffered his Spectrum ID.

From the dais they heard Jumaniyoz’s voice calling out, and although they had no idea what was being said, they were relieved when the security men moved aside and allowed them through.

“Keep down,” Scarlet advised, as they climbed the steps.

An apparently random bullet thudded into the ground close by Ochre’s boot, and instantly he crouched lower.

“I knew the snowmen were still dangerous,” Scarlet said.

“And it’s not often you get the chance to say that,” Ochre muttered.

Blue reached Rhapsody and the President first.

“Hello, Captain Blue,” she said, giving him a sketchy salute before he could speak. “Spectrum Agent 386, assigned to the Presidential security detail with Captain Scarlet, reporting that President Olafson has been safely evacuated with a flesh wound but President Jumaniyoz is still here. As you can see…”

“I can indeed, Agent 386. Well done. Mister President, I am Captain Blue of Spectrum and I’ve been assigned to get you to safety, sir, as fast as possible.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Jumaniyoz said, glancing beyond him at Ochre and Scarlet. “However, I will not leave without Miss Simms… your Agent 386. She has saved my life many times, Captain.”

“We will be evacuating Agent 386 as well, Mr President,” Blue assured him. “Now, we have to get you both to the magnacopter, without attracting the fire of those snowmen.”

Jumaniyoz interrupted: “Before you make any suggestions, Captain Blue, I must insist that your plan does not involve me being carried, like Olafson, nor crawling away from the dais. There are news cameras everywhere and I would not bring dishonour to Khorasam by skulking away from danger. I will walk upright to your magnacopter, under my own power, or not at all.”

Blue looked surprised, but Rhapsody sighed and shrugged.

“I’ve tried to reason with the President, but he insists on those conditions, Captain,” she volunteered.

“Then we need to disable the snowmen before the President can be moved,” Scarlet interjected. “Ochre, that’s down to you and me, I think. Captain Blue will need to stay here with the President and Agent 386.”

“What do you have in mind, Captain Scarlet?” Blue asked.

“From the final market stall in the line we’d have a clear shot up the mountain. I feel sure we could take the snowmen out from there.”

“Couldn’t the Angels do it?” Ochre suggested. “It’d be much quicker.”

“You weren’t here at the time, but the last time a missile was fired it started an avalanche, Captain. Luckily, it didn’t come down on the hotel, but it’d be too risky to fire again,” Rhapsody said. “They haven’t evacuated all of the civilians yet.”

“Not to mention me,” Jumaniyoz added sharply, glaring at Ochre.

“Then we don’t have much choice,” said Blue. “Captain Ochre, Captain Scarlet, go and … eliminate the snowmen.”

Ochre couldn’t prevent a snigger at the sheer incongruity of the order, but he bit back his amusement quickly enough when Blue gave him a stern look.

“S.I.G., Captain Blue,” he said briskly, and followed Scarlet off the dais.

Rhapsody watched them go, shared a brief smile with Blue and then explained the situation, at least as far as she understood it.

“Did anyone notice where Captain Black went after the fight with Captain Scarlet?” Blue asked.

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s been pretty chaotic here and the lights keep failing. It doesn’t help having to stay down under the bench and keep as still as possible, either.”

“No,” Jumaniyoz interjected angrily. “I expected better security from the European Triumvirate. It is not acceptable that my personal security should have been delegated to this young woman.”

“May I remind you that ‘this young woman’ is a top Spectrum agent,” Blue replied hotly. “Not even Captain Scarlet himself could have done any better, sir.” He looked around and continued, “The dais is open on all sides and extremely vulnerable to attack. Blame the organisers, if anyone’s at fault.”

“I do not blame Miss Simms, Captain; she has behaved courageously. I blame the Triumvirate for failing to make sure the area was free from terrorists.”

“With respect, sir, Spectrum’s certain that Paradise Peaks is under attack from the Mysterons. A threat against you was received on Cloudbase just before the attack commenced. I’m sure you’re aware of the danger the Mysterons pose to all human life.”

Jumaniyoz nodded. “I know what is said about them, Captain, but I also know that it is not accepted as a universal truth. The President of Bereznik himself has warned me that he considers the Mysterons are no more than a ploy by the World Government, intended to keep the free world in its thrall. And I am sure you are more than well aware of his opinion of Spectrum?”

“Yes, sir; I am well aware of that.”

Jumaniyoz shrugged. “Get me and Miss Simms out of here safely, Captain Blue, and I may be more inclined to doubt the Bereznian version of events.”

“S.I.G., Mr President. I intend to do exactly that.”

Ochre and Scarlet moved as quickly as possible through the crowd.

“D’you reckon Black is still around here, Paul?” Ochre asked, as they reached their destination.

“My gut instinct is ‘yes’,” Scarlet replied. “He must’ve been here for some time before the attack because nothing will convince me the snowmen were designed with hidden weapons, or that it was a coincidence they lined up and advanced on the dais. Besides,” and he paused, “I did him a fair bit of damage and even if he’s as retrometabolic as I am, he’s going to need time to recover. He’s lying low in some bolt-hole, I’m sure of it.”

“Better keep our eyes peeled then,” Ochre said, taking his gun from its holster. “If we start taking out the last of his weaponised toys, he’s bound to come after us.”

Scarlet nodded. He had not worked with Captain Ochre often, but he knew that however frivolous Richard Fraser might appear, he was an exceptional professional and dedicated to doing his duty.

“Are we close enough to take them all, Rick?”

Ochre studied the line of snowmen and shook his head. “Not the furthest two. We’ll need to break cover.”

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” Scarlet crouched down on one knee and aimed his gun at the closest snowman. “Fire at will, Captain!” he ordered and shot three bullets into the snowman.

Beside him, Ochre did the same and smoke poured from the joints of the machine. It spun round and several bullets whizzed off harmlessly into the darkness

“Again! Don’t let it get into range of the others’ movement sensors,” Scarlet snapped.

Six more bullets hit their target before the snowman rocked back and toppled over, its gun firing twice more straight into the air before it exploded.

“Got you, y’bastard,” Scarlet muttered. He glanced at Ochre who was grinning. “Good shooting. The other two haven’t moved.”

Ochre nodded. “Do we rush them?”

“No; you provide me with cover and when I’m clear, you aim at the closer of the two. I’ll run up the slope and double-back onto the farther snowman. Okay?”

“Is that safe?”

“Safer than you doing it,” Scarlet said matter-of-factly, as he changed the ammunition clip on his gun. “Just try and keep out of the range of their motion detectors, they only attack movement. It’s their Achilles Heel, as Blue would say.”

“S.I.G.,” said Ochre. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The snow crunched under Scarlet’s feet as he ran around to the far side of the ski lift winch house and up the slope. Once out in the open he would be a sitting target for any Mysteron agents remaining in the vicinity, and the thought gave him a thrill of excitement. This was what he lived for: it was the reason he had not remained sunk in a bottomless pit of self-pity and depression after the events at the London Car-Vu.

From what Spectrum knew, the Mysterons’ attacks were driven by a burning need to revenge Captain Black’s attack on their Martian complex, and to himself, at least, Scarlet admitted that he, their only independent-minded former conscript, was driven by much the same emotion. Of course, he still had his sense of duty and his human empathy for others, but when it came to the thrill of the chase and the heat of battle, he knew himself well enough to admit that his driving force was to be revenged on every Mysteron he could lay his hands on. They would learn to regret having tangled with Colonel Paul Metcalfe.

In the distance, he heard Ochre open fire on the snowmen and swerved round to begin his attack down the slope. Realising he was at the same level as the sleigh, he improvised, and set it moving towards the targets, jumping in as it gathered speed.

He opened fire as the sleigh bucketed down the slope, but his bullets went wide, as he was jolted about.

Never mind; this ought to flatten them both…

He was holding on with both hands, throwing his weight from side to side in an effort to keep the sleigh on the right track, and, consequently, he did not see the mortar launched from the trees. It hit the back of the sleigh side-on, and the impact threw it up in the air, as the wood splintered. Scarlet was thrown forwards, rolling uncontrollably down towards the snowmen, one of which had turned around to face up the slope.

Bullet after bullet buried themselves in the snow, missing Scarlet by inches. As his fall slowed, he kept low and continued to roll towards his attacker.

When the sleigh had been hit, Ochre had broken cover and now he laid down a barrage of covering fire. Ponderously, the nearest snowman turned towards the movement, but it was already smoking when it began to shoot, and Ochre was able to dodge clear quicker than it could react to his movement. He threw himself down and lying on his side in the snow, he emptied his ammunition clip into the machine, which burst into flames and exploded, the flying shards of hot metal posing a greater risk to Ochre than the bullets had ever done.

Then he looked towards the final snowman.

Captain Scarlet was on the ground at its base trying to disable it, or at least prevent it from moving. Ochre could see his colleague’s red-handled gun lying some way back up the slope, but there was no way he could reach it without risking getting shot. He rummaged in his uniform pocket and pulled out another ammo clip, only to find that was empty.

Crawling forward, he circled round behind the snowman, and then stood, gripping its head between his arms and twisting hard.

Something snapped. The sensors in the dark eyes flickered and died, and the raised arm fell back.

“Well done, Captain,” Scarlet said, from where he was starting to get to his feet. “You’ve killed a snowman.”

Ochre grinned. “At least I won’t have traumatised a generation of kids by destroying Santa’s sleigh.”

Scarlet chuckled. “I’m sure Santa has a spare.”

From a distance came the sound of cheering, as the crowd celebrated the defeat of the snowmen.

“I wonder if Spectrum will be able to spin this as a Christmas Extravaganza special,” Scarlet mused.

“I doubt it,” Ochre said, suddenly sombre, “Too many people have died or been hurt for that.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. How callous I must sound,” Scarlet said apologetically.

“Nah, don’t sweat it, Paul. We all say things in the heat of the moment that we might not want repeated or remembered.”

“Thanks, Rick. Let’s go and help Blue escort President Jumaniyoz and the much more important Agent 386 to safety.”

“S.I.G., Captain Scarlet.”

Jumaniyoz got to his feet as soon as it was clear that the snowmen no longer posed a threat, and despite Blue urging him to be careful.

“We can’t be sure there aren’t other Mysterons still at large, sir,” Blue explained, without much hope of being listened to.

“Nonsense, Captain. You saw your colleagues remove the threat. I refuse to stay hiding under this bench any longer! It is beneath the dignity of the Supreme President of Khorasam. I want to be taken to a safe place, immediately.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Come, dear Miss Simms, we shall go from this place of danger and discomfort together.”

Jumaniyoz held out his hand to Dianne and, with a wry glance at Blue, she took it.

To the cheers of the crowd, the President made his way towards the steps. His remaining security men gathered round him in a protective cordon as he went down from the dais.

Feeling very superfluous to requirements, Blue watched and after a moment, he contacted Captain Scarlet.

“The President and Agent 386 are moving towards the magnacopter, with his bodyguards in place,” he informed his friend.

“What are you going to do?” Scarlet asked.

“Start the clear up and organise a thorough sweep of the area to make sure there are no more booby-traps or pockets of resistance. I suggest you and Captain Ochre accompany the Supreme President – and Agent 386.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“S.I.G., Captain.”

Scarlet and Ochre hurried down the slope towards the crowd that thronged around Jumaniyoz. They were still some distance away when a scream rang out and there was a flurry of movement on the other side of the ice rink barrier.

“What’s that? What’s happening?” Ochre asked, knowing Scarlet’s encounter with the Mysterons had left him with enhanced eyesight.

“There’s something there… Oh Christ! Come on, Ochre – run!”

“What is it?” Ochre panted, as they reached the ice rink.

“The reindeer - Santa’s bloody reindeer!”

“What the…?”

Closer to the action, Ochre could see it was no joke. The six larger than life animatronic reindeer were advancing into the crowd in the direction of President Jumaniyoz, impervious even to the hail of bullets from his astonished bodyguards. Anyone getting in their way was gored by the sharp antlers and trampled under the metal hooves.

In their desperation to escape, people were pushing and shoving each other, and the weakest were most at risk.

It was Ochre who saw the child. Barely more than a toddler it had somehow been separated from its family in the crush, and was sitting alone on the ground, crying and frightened. The adults around it, also frightened, were ignoring it in their own anxiety to avoid the death-dealing reindeer, even though some of them were tripping over it in their haste to escape. With a gasp of shocked understanding, Ochre realised it was directly in the path of an approaching reindeer.

Without a second thought, he ran and swept the child away from those merciless hooves. The child screamed even louder, but clung to him in fear. With no idea where its parents were, he carried it to safety on the far side of the ice rink and looked for a responsible adult to hand it over to.

Scarlet was trying to get to Rhapsody. Jumaniyoz had her firmly by the hand and was yelling orders to his men to force a pathway through the crowd. The bodyguards were still taking futile pot shots at the reindeer, or firing overhead to make people move out of the way.

If one of them hits anyone, there will be a stampede and dozens will be killed, Scarlet realised. He ran forward and pushed past a hulking bodyguard, who threatened him with his gun.

“Mr President,” Scarlet called. “Please tell your men to stop firing! They will cause a stampede.”

When Jumaniyoz ignored him and carried on urging his men to carve a way through to the magnacopter, Rhapsody yanked her hand away and, avoiding the President’s lunging grab, tried to get to Scarlet.

“Be careful, Dianne!” he called.

Two of the reindeer were very close to the President and one lowered its head to impale him on its antlers, while the other, head swinging side to side, kept the bodyguards at bay.

Scarlet ran past Rhapsody and pushed his way to the President’s side, throwing himself in front of the man, just as the reindeer stuck.

The antler drove deep into his stomach and tore the flesh apart as it withdrew.

“Get Jumaniyoz out of here,” Scarlet yelled, as waves of red hot pain gnawed at his body.

Stunned by the horror of the moment, it took Rhapsody a moment to obey. Grabbing Jumaniyoz’s hand, she dragged him in the direction of the rapidly approaching Captain Ochre.

“Scarlet says get him out of here,” she gasped, unaware of the tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

Ochre grabbed the President none too gently, twisted his arm behind his back and thrust him ahead of him, exactly as if he had him under arrest.

“Move your ass, Jumaniyoz,” he snarled.

“How dare you talk to me like that? Let me go!”

“It’s just your luck that you got the one Spectrum officer that failed the diplomacy exams. Now just do as you’re told. You’ve caused more than enough trouble already.”

He frog-marched the man to safety.

Rhapsody had turned back to where the reindeer were now attacking the bodyguards, who were powerless to hold them off as their weapons were useless against the Mysteronised machines.

“Paul!” she cried, as she saw Captain Scarlet slumped against the scaffolding for the big neon sign of Santa and his sleigh. The hands that clutched at his stomach were red with blood, but the colour of his tunic and the black trousers hid the fact that he was haemorrhaging his life away.

She sank to her knees, heedless of the people around her and began to sob. “Oh Paul…. I never imagined it could be this bad…”

“Clear!” Captain Blue’s voice rang out above the pandemonium. Moments later she saw the beam of an electron rifle bury itself in the flank of a rampaging reindeer. The beast staggered, slowed and finally stopped moving. This proved to all of the Spectrum agents, if proof were needed, that the Mysterons were behind the attacks.

“Clear!”

A second voice rang out over the event area. Having been contacted by Captain Blue, Melody Angel had left the safety of the magnacopter carrying the vehicle’s Mysteron gun. Now, she climbed onto the barrier and fired at one of the reindeer which also came to a halt.

By the time Blue’s gun had recharged, Rhapsody had got to her feet and was heading purposefully towards Scarlet. By the time she reached him, two more of the reindeer had been effectively neutralised by Blue and Melody, while the Khorasi bodyguards had joined forces, thrown away their guns and were ripping one of them to pieces by hand.

The last animatronic animal was the largest and it was now running straight at Captain Scarlet, its head lowered in attack.

“Watch out!” Blue yelled a warning. “Paul!”

Rhapsody saw the danger and with the final vestiges of her strength she pulled Scarlet over so that the machine ran head-down into the strut of the scaffold.

Scarlet was unconscious from loss of blood and he lay crumpled on the blood-soaked muddy ground. Rhapsody knew she wouldn’t have the strength left to lift him alone, and turned to look for help.

One of the Khorasi bodyguards pulled her to safety as the mechanical beast rammed the strut again and again.

“Leave me alone; let me go to him!” she begged, beating her fists into the strong body of the guard, but he ignored her pleas, held her firmly and began to move her away from the incident.

The strut, weakened by the repeated attacks, began to buckle and slowly, almost gracefully, the scaffolding collapsed, burying both the reindeer and Captain Scarlet under an explosion of shattering neon tubes.

Epilogue

“Ding-dong, merrily on high, in heaven the bells are ringing!

Ding-dong, verily the sky is riven with Angels singing:

Glor…or…or...or…or…or…or…or…or…or…or…or...or...or…or…or…or…or…or…ria,

Hosanna in excelsis!”

Captain Scarlet gave a dry smile and applauded.

“We haven’t finished yet; there’s still verse two,” Symphony Angel informed him.

He looked at the two women standing at the foot of his bed, wearing flashing reindeer antler headbands and carrying sprays of plastic holly, and sighed.

“Look, Karen, it isn’t that I don’t appreciate you coming to entertain me while I recover, but honestly? Please go and ding-dong somewhere else.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, we thought you’d like us to sing you some carols, seeing as how you’re stuck in Sick Bay on your own.” There was a pout on Symphony’s lips that did not bode well.

“I know it is and I do – really – appreciate it, but… I… well, I have a rotten headache and I’m… still feeling rather tired,” Scarlet lied.

“We practised specially,” Destiny said, her large eyes looking balefully at Scarlet.

“I can tell that you must have. I mean you’re both very good.” He sighed. “If Doctor Fawn allows me to get up, I’ll come along and listen to you at the carol concert later. I promise.”

“Come, Symphony, we know when we are not wanted. Let us go and practise some more for the concert tonight.”

“I do hope you feel better soon, Paul,” Symphony said, as they gathered their sheet music. “Perhaps, if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, we could come and sing carols for you then?”

“What a wonderful idea! I’ll look forward to it,” he lied. “Bye for now, Angels!”

They left, muttering to each other under their breaths.

“You can come out now,” Scarlet said.

Captain Blue came out of the bathroom and grinned. “I know I may be next-door to tone deaf, but that was truly awful.”

“Wasn’t it just? At least you could put your fingers in your ears; I had to lie here through the edited highlights of ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’, ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ and ‘Good King Wenceslaus’. I think I’m having a relapse.”

“Will you go to the concert? It’ll probably sound better when there are more than just the pair of them.”

“Dianne said she’d come and get me, so as long as Fawn gives me the all-clear, yes, I’ll be there.”

“Let’s hope we get a silent night…”

“Ha-ha! Now, before the songbirds arrived, you were going to tell me what’s happened since I was attacked by the reindeer.”

“So I was… let me see. Olafson’s recovering well; he’s sent the colonel glowing reports of you and Dianne. Unfortunately, we didn’t find Captain Black, although there were signs he’d been about. All the booby traps have been cleared away and the resort’s been declared safe again, although the animatronics were all dismantled and the Extravaganza was cancelled out of respect for the dead and wounded. Still, it seems that bookings at Paradise Peaks have gone through the roof… go figure that if you can, because I can’t.”

Scarlet shrugged and shook his head. “There’s no such things as bad publicity?” he suggested. “What about Jumaniyoz?”

Blue laughed. “He’s fine but still as dumb as an ox. You know, he put in a complaint about Captain Ochre.”

“And?”

“And The Old Man spiked it, but he did warn Ochre to try and be more aware of VIP sensibilities in future.”

“Any chance of that?”

“None whatsoever.”

Scarlet sniggered. “Well, that seems to wrap it up for that little adventure. Any more news?”

Blue shifted slightly in his chair. “Uh-huh. Your mother phoned me.”

“Oh, no… I’m sorry, Adam. I’ve told her not to do that.”

“No problem. She’d seen what happened on the newscasts and read about it in all the papers and… well, not to put too fine a point on it, she’s worried that you might not be fit enough to go home on Boxing Day for the family get-together.”

The one silver lining to the whole mission had been the possibility of missing the Metcalfe family gathering, so now, Scarlet asked, rather anxiously: “What did you tell her?”

Apparently, Blue completely misread the cause of his friend’s anxiety and hastened to reassure him, “That’d you be fine and you wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Scarlet winced and Blue added by way of an explanation, “I figured you wouldn’t want to spoil her Christmas, after all.”

“Adam, have I ever told you that you’re a bloody great…”

“Yes?” Blue prompted.

When confronted by his friend’s innocent expression, Scarlet amended his choice of words. “Mind reader.” He sighed. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to spoil Mum’s Christmas.” A sudden idea came to him, although he felt it might be clutching at straws. “But what if Fawn says I can’t go?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that; the last piece of news I have for you is that Fawn gave you the all-clear just before he left Cloudbase to spend Christmas with his family. You’re free to go!”

“Oh…”

Blue stood to leave and then snapped his fingers. “Oh, one more thing before I forget. Dianne’ll be waiting for you down in Hangar Bay 3 to catch the last London shuttle. Colonel White’s given you both a 72-hour furlough, as your last leave was ruined. So, you can leave on the last shuttle and come back after your get-together in Winchester.”

“What?” He stared at Blue who was smirking and sniggering to himself. “Sometimes, Svenson, I think you do it just to torment me. When’s the last shuttle?”

“An hour before the carol concert… in,” he glanced at his watch, “about 40 minutes.”

“And Dianne’s coming too?”

Blue nodded. “Merry Christmas, Paul?”

Scarlet gave a cheery grin. “A very Merry Christmas, Adam!”

Author’s notes:

As I am sure everyone knows, Paradise Peaks was the hotel that featured in the Thunderbirds episode, ‘The Cham-Cham’. I thought that by the time of Captain Scarlet’s adventures it would probably be due a refit, so that was where the grand reopening idea came from. If I am completely honest, the murderous snowmen were inspired by a scene from The Beatles film, ‘Help!’. I remember saving up my pocket money to go and see that at the local cinema when it first came out.

The germs of the story came from a conversation with Caroline Smith, who encouraged me to give it a go, so I owe her my thanks. My sincere thanks go to Hazel Köhler for beta-reading above and beyond the call of duty. There are bits of this that got put in after Hazel had worked her magic, so any mistakes you spot are mine and mine alone. I also owe Hazel thanks for a recent weekend of nostalgia, watching ‘The Man from UNCLE’ on DVD, while sipping wine. When we stopped doing that, we had a session of brain-storming ‘how to get yourself out of the hole you’ve written yourself in to’. Without that inspiration, Scarlet would’ve been left dangling and that shouldn’t happen to anyone, especially at Christmas.

Thanks also to Chris Bishop, for hosting the best website around.

‘Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons’ and ‘Thunderbirds’ are the work of Gerry Anderson and his team of talented collaborators. Where would we be without them?

Apologies to everyone if the German is not quite right. Credit to that goes to Google’s online Translator. Perhaps it can also be put down to Captain Blue’s less than perfect grasp of languages, but he does his best! On the other hand, I know I can rely on Colonel Chris to put my French to rights, so all thanks to her for that.

I’ll take this opportunity to wish Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone, and a Happy Birthday to Paul Metcalfe and everyone else who has a birthday over the festive season!

I hope you enjoyed the story.

Marion Woods

13 December 2019

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