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"Death Maze"
An Avengers Fanfiction
The second of a series of adventures bridging the year and a half between broadcast episode 3.26, "Lobster Quadrille" (Cathy Gale, March 1964) and episode 4.01, "The Town Of No Return" (Emma Peel, September 1965)
Disclaimer: Some copyrighted characters have been borrowed
June 1964
Steed goes to the dogs. Rita finds her way.
John Steed was seated at the bar with a mug of lager in front of him. One-Ten entered the pub through the front door and took up a seat next to him. He didn't glance sideways as he ordered a stout. Steed pretended to watch the game of darts that had developed on the other side of the room.
"I take it you aren't happy with the Wootton Bassett mission," Steed opened.
"You left so many loose ends it's hard to even call it a mission," One-Ten laid into him. "We don't know who the Bookhounds were getting the locations from, nor who they were transmitting them to. All you did was disrupt the conduit."
"Still, I'm sure all the men are grateful for the few weeks of safety they'll enjoy," Steed retorted.
"Bah!" One-Ten scoffed, barely managing to keep his head turned away. "The enemy will just find another way to communicate the locations. Instead of being driven to ground, they'll be laying low now. You and Miss Fox have botched this thing royally."
"I'll tell Miss Fox that you wish her well with her recovery," Steed said cheerily.
"That's what we get for sending a civil servant to do an agent's job. You should have listened to me and taken a professional."
Steed ignored the barb. "So Penbrough and the other enemies we took at Wootton Bassett couldn't give us any leads?"
"No. They weren't lying when they said they didn't know the man they were working for, at least according to our wringer. They got the secret locations by phone and were paid in cash. What's your plan now, Steed?"
"Start checking libraries." Steed took a careful swallow of the lager in front of him. "Find out if anyone has looked into The Field Guide to Pictish Symbol Stones. That was the latest entry on The Bookhounds' reading list."
"Do you realize how many libraries there are in England?"
"Only historical libraries would carry an obscure title like this. That narrows it down a bit."
"That's still a hundred or more. They're not likely to give you information on who was interested in a particular book over the phone," One-Ten scowled.
"Exactly. Miss Fox and I shall have to check each branch in person."
Once again, One-Ten had to fight the urge to turn and face Steed. "Miss Fox? You intend to keep using her? Quite frankly, we were disappointed with her performance. Thought you'd want to dump her as quickly as possible. Don't tell me you're thinking of having her as a regular partner?"
"No," Steed confessed. "But if there's anyone who can talk to a librarian, it's Miss Fox."
-oOo-
Rita Fox entered the office of Charles, the Head of Operations. He was in the process of removing his trench coat and hanging it on oaken coat tree. His black jacket and bow tie made him look as if he had just come from a night at the opera. Rita had to admit he appeared quite spiffy, in spite of being three or four stone overweight.
"You asked to see me?" she ventured humbly. Rita looked very conservative in her brown leather calf boots, red plaid flannel skirt, white blouse with a delicate ribbon at the neck, and of course, her luxuriant red hair, swirled up and held in place by two cloisonne clips.
"Ah, Miss Fox," he began. "First, let me apologize for the Ministry's miscue in assigning you to the Blackpoole murder. When we found the nineteenth-century book in Blackpoole's possession, we were certain that Mr. Steed would need your services to complete the investigation. As it turned out, the secret behind the Bookhounds was merely a simple cipher, not something requiring the skills of a literary expert such as yourself."
"I was the one who detected how the books were used in the scheme," Rita said defensively.
"Oh, of course dear! I read Steed's report." Charles gestured apologetically. "I didn't mean to diminish your contribution. I'm just sorry you had to get exposed to mortal danger in Steed's ill-advised handling of the situation."
"That's not a fair assessment," she said defiantly. "Steed risked his life repeatedly. You should have seen him. He was..." Rita's voice trailed off.
Charles seemed genuinely amused. "He was what, my dear?"
"He was magnificent," Rita finished meekly.
"Ah, I see." The rotund Head of Operations gave a broad smile. "Mr. Steed has been known to have a certain effect on women. I'm not surprised that you're in his thrall."
"I am not in his thrall," Rita objected tersely. "When I first went to see him, he wanted nothing to do with me. He got me drunk and dumped me back in my apartment. Later, he manipulated and used me."
"The lady doth protest too much," Charles grinned.
"However, Steed is a gentleman," she finished, "and he put his life on the line for your principles. For our principles."
Charles nodded patronizingly. "Of course, my dear. In any event, you needn't endanger yourself in the field anymore," he continued. "I'm looking at other avenues for us to utilize your particular research skills outside of the Ministry."
Rita turned pale. "You're going to cashier me?"
"Oh no, my dear. Merely look for a more optimal placement, one that doesn't involve the direct dangers of being exposed to the enemy. Surely, that should please you." There seemed to be hidden meaning behind Charles' words.
Rita's instincts told her it would best to retreat for the time being. "Whatever you think would be best, sir," she acquiesced.
"Ah, that's more like it. I'll let you know when I've come up with something."
-oOo-
Rita was frantic when she arrived at Steed's apartment.
"Steed, they're going to put me out to pasture! All because of this Bookhounds affair. My career, over—at only twenty-eight!"
"Good afternoon, Miss Fox," Steed greeted her. "Come inside for a drink."
Rita was so upset she forgot to insist that she never drank alcohol. Steed strolled over to the bar and decanted a mysterious fluid into a glass. She seated herself on the couch, allowing her wounded right thigh to dangle over the side. When Steed handed her the glass, she downed it in a single gulp. It was heavy and red, and had an immediate effect.
"What was that?" she asked, carefully annunciating her words.
"Oloroso sherry. Not as strong as heavy port, but getting there." Steed smiled. Rita straightened her flannel skirt and checked the adjustment of the cloisonne clips that held her ample red hair in check.
"Thank you, Steed." Rita began again, more calmly this time. "They weren't happy with my work on the Wiltshire mission. I need to do something to salvage the situation."
"I've spoken to One-Ten," Steed responded. "I've already informed him that I'll need your services for another week."
"But the Head of Operations said—"
Steed waved his hand dismissively. "Charles is a bit of a blowhard. You mustn't take what he says too seriously. I've chosen you to help me complete this investigation, and complete it we will." He handed Rita a second glass of sherry. She sipped it more slowly.
"I've had Thornton look into what libraries are likely to have a copy of The Field Guide to Pictish Symbol Stones," Steed began.
"He's your man at the Ministry who helped us discover the link between the books and secret locations, isn't he?"
"That's right; he works in Cleanup. Thornton's come up with a list of one hundred and thirty seven libraries," Steed continued. "I've split it into two, geographically. You'll work your way from Bristol up through Birmingham, and I'll take the route through Norwich and Leeds. We'll meet up in Manchester, if neither of us discovers something first."
"You mean I'll be working alone?"
"Yes, undercover. Visit each library and see if anyone's checked out or asked about the book recently. You'll have to use charm, deception, trickery—whatever it takes to get the information."
"Now we've gone into your area of expertise," Rita said slyly.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Steed smirked. "If you find any connection with the Bookhounds, don't try to do anything on your own. Contact the Ministry, and they'll inform me when I check in. Then you just wait for me to arrive."
"And if you find something first? Will you send for me?"
Steed hesitated before answering. "If I encounter a situation that requires your unique skills, I'll certainly send for you," he said carefully.
Rita frowned. "So you're saying I shouldn't hold my breath. How do I get in contact with the Ministry?"
"Just use any public call box and ask for Mount Olympus. We have a system to patch through to Whitehall."
"And it works from anywhere?"
"It's called MYTHOS—Ministry Telephonic Help Operator System, or something like that. Speak carefully, since they'll be checking your voiceprint. Your code name will be 'Alopex'."
Rita smiled. "That's Greek for 'fox'."
"I've been accused of having a sense of humor. If you need to talk to the Head Of Operations, ask for Zeus."
"What's your code name?"
Steed grinned broadly, and sipped some of the sherry himself. "Bacchus, of course."
-oOo-
