Author's note. These stories were written before I had got a serious grasp of the complexities of the character of Ed Straker. Please forgive me. Archived here after reconsideration. All stories/art work etc available on my website: Lightcudder's World
Chapter 1
August 2009
Peter Claybourne's mutilated body lay on the path, his blood pooling underneath him in obscene imitations of Rorschach patterns, his sightless eyes staring in horror up at clouds and light and shadows above and his handgun still in its holster.
A man wearing a close-fitting charcoal-grey suit and with white cuffs framing his long-fingered hands, approached the scene. Sunlight reflected in his cropped ash-blonde hair and sunglasses hid his eyes as he walked towards the small group clustered around the victim.
There was a hissed intake of breath as Straker saw the corpse for the first time and he bent down, heedless of the congealing blood to place one hand on the unseeing eyes, and close them for the last time.
'Dear God, what a mess,' he said. 'If you had waited for back up Pete, none of this would have happened.'
He straightened up, and wiped his blood stained fingers on a handkerchief to remove the stain of death.
'I want his body taken to the Medical Unit as soon as you've finished clearing up here,' he instructed the waiting team. 'I'll be waiting.'
He did not wait for their acknowledgement, secure in the knowledge that they would do as ordered.
But his face tightened with anguish as he turned away, sickened by the coppery stench of blood and the sight of the ruined corpse of one of the longest serving members of SHADO. Then he crossed over to the two remaining security team members in the care of the SHADO paramedics.
'I want your reports on my desk in three hours. I also want clarification of why Colonel Claybourne went against my express orders by authorising this operation. If he had survived this incident he would be facing a Court Martial for his actions. You might want to bear that in mind.' Straker's voice was hard and he walked away without another look.
….
The Saab pulled into the portico of Harlington-Straker Studio and Straker turned off the engine. He waited, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the vehicle. He did not want to have to get out and face the reality of this day, to have to deal with the post-mortem for Peter Claybourne, his acquaintance and associate for years. To have to deal with informing the staff that Pete was dead. To have to tell his family. To face the silent accusations from the Security Department that he, Straker, was somehow responsible for the debacle that led to Peter lying on a cold steel slab in the mortuary, being autopsied and inspected by Shroeder. He did not want any of this.
The tap on the window startled him out of his contemplation.
'Mr Straker? Is everything all right?'
Straker looked up. 'Yes, just wondering where I left my work mobile. Miss Ealand probably has it tucked away in her office.' He smiled, but his eyes were distant as he left the warmth of the car to walk into the studios.
His secretary looked up at him. 'Commander Straker, I am so sorry to hear about Colonel Claybourne. What do you need me to do?'
'I need the contact details for his relatives, Miss Ealand. I know he divorced some years ago, but he had family in Canada and I think there were a couple of recent girlfriends. I'd like to inform each of them, as soon as possible.' Straker was subdued as he went into his inner office to pick up the cigarette case from the desk and flick up the lid in one practiced movement.
'Straker.'
'Voice Print identification positive. Commander Straker,' the computer voice confirmed and the entire room descended. There was no sound, just the room itself, moving downwards with a hum of machinery as he waited, tight lipped.
The door by which he had entered now opened onto an austere white corridor. The only colour was the sign 'SHADO'.
He was no longer aware of the sign. Alec and he had worked here since SHADO's inception, and he knew every inch of its reinforced concrete walls, knew every conduit, every circuit and every installation. He had helped designed the base, and had overseen its creation from the first blueprints to the day when SHADO opened for business. And he had been in charge of the complex and its vast and ever-growing network of bases, support units and staff members since the day the first computer was switched on and the first UFO was destroyed in Earth's atmosphere. And now, just a few years after that start, Peter Claybourne was dead.
Keith Ford looked up as Straker entered the control room.
'Commander, is it true about Colonel Claybourne?' he asked.
'Yes. He walked right into the trap. They are bringing him in soon. Let me know when the ambulance arrives.' He strode the few paces to his office and closed the door where he dropped into the chair behind the bulwark of his desk to rest his head in his hands for a brief moment. There was too much to do to be able to spend time mourning Peter Claybourne, but memories of those first days of SHADO flashed into his mind.
Pete, dressed in torn and oil-stained overalls, crawling along the narrow conduit tubes to access yet another faulty connection in the electronic systems. Pete laughing as Alec Freeman struggled to get suited up in a mock decompression exercise. Alec, Pete and Craig pouring him a glass of champagne to toast the successful launch of the first lunar shuttle.
Pete, refusing to wait for back up despite Straker's specific orders.
Pete. Dead and dissected by aliens.
At least there was irrefutable proof of his death. Unlike Craig Collins, Peter's body could be laid to rest.
One more statistic for the IAC. One more death to be hushed up. One more casualty on his conscience. He should have insisted that Claybourne remain in the base instead of dashing off to play the hero. Pete had become more than a little unpredictable, rushing into situations without careful planning, but Straker had intended to give him a change of scene in the next month by promoting him to the new Hawaiian complex. He should have removed Pete from active service straight away.
Now it was too late. Was it his fault? Should he have foreseen this tragedy? And how reliable was Colonel Claybourne's old team? There were now serious doubts in his mind over the reliability of SHADO's Security Section.
Damn you Pete, Straker thought, you always thought you knew best. You were so convinced of your own immortality that you put everyone else at risk. Your whole team could have died alongside you. I don't know if I can forgive you for that. How many more deaths will I have to deal with?
His intercom flashed and Miss Ealand, efficient as always, relayed a list of names and telephone numbers.
He reached for his phone and began the first of the calls.
….
It was appropriate weather for the funeral of Peter James Claybourne, "Harlington Straker's" Security Chief. Dark and overcast, with dampness in the air that foreshadowed heavy rain, the sky on that Wednesday afternoon was sullen and depressing. Straker stood at the back of the small country church listening to the priest's eulogy. The majority of the mourners were SHADO staff, paying their last respects to a man they had known and respected. The Security department stood together as if to support each other with Jenson surrounded by his colleagues. As if aware that he was being watched, he looked around with eyes devoid of emotion or recognition and stared back at Straker.
He studied the scene; Alec Freeman in the middle of the congregation with Colonel Lake, and Keith Ford, the bright flowers and wreaths on the oak coffin and the priest, solemn and deferential.
Straker remained alone. His presence here was an intrusion into the grief of a close-knit community. He was an outsider and as soon as the service had concluded, he returned to his car and drove away. He would mourn Pete Claybourne in his own way. Peter would be cremated according to his last wishes and Straker intended to carry out the final request of his colleague.
'Ed, when I die I want to go into space. Make sure that whatever happens, my ashes end up on an orbit that takes me way past Saturn out to edges of the Solar System.' Claybourne had been celebrating Moonbase's first successful defence of Earth and the conversation, as so often happened, had come round to their own mortality with both Claybourne and Freeman expressing a desire to be 'buried in space' as they put it.
Straker remembered his own request. 'I don't care what they do with me, as long as I can get some sleep,' he had said with a cynical laugh, exhaustion creeping into his voice despite the elation at having been victorious in their first lunar defence.
But that was a long time ago. Pete was dead and he had to pick a new Security Chief, preferably one who would follow orders. Tomorrow he would have to start the serious business of finding a replacement. He would have to go through the personnel files with care. There would be no mistakes this time.
….
Harlington Straker security was busier than normal for a Thursday morning. Director, actor, production team; it didn't matter if you had a pass signed by God and authorised by the Pope himself. Today you were not driving through the Harlington Straker entrance until your security clearance had been double-checked. And then re-checked. Every little detail was picked over while tempers flared and the queue got longer and, by inverse proportion, more short-tempered.
Straker's Saab overtook the waiting queue of traffic and came to a halt outside the Administration area. He looked over at the chaos and frowned, then turned and strode into Reception.
Miss Ealand, watching from her office overlooking the main entrance, gave a rueful smile as Colonel Freeman walked over to try to intercept his boss.
'What the blazes is going on out there?' Straker thumped his briefcase down on the desk.
'Good morning, Ed.' Alec Freeman's quick voice cut into the conversation. 'You can blame it all on me. Miss Ealand had nothing to do with this. We received a threatening letter earlier this morning, addressed to you.' He paused to look sideways at Straker. 'I spoke to security and asked them to be a little heavy-handed with procedures today. It might be enough to stop this joker – as long as it is a hoax and not the real thing. Look Ed, I really need to talk to you about setting up a protection detail -.'
'No Alec. I am quite capable of looking after myself.' Straker interjected.
'….at least for a couple of weeks.' Freeman continued as if the interruption had not happened. 'I'm not going to argue Ed, this will happen whether you like it or not, so you may as well shut up and stop complaining. Besides, until we replace Peter we do need to be a little more careful.'
With a look that would wither a lesser man Straker nodded at Freeman, picked up his briefcase and entered the undercover world of SHADO.
…..
Straker signed the last of the documents and returned them to their folders as the door to his office opened and Alec walked in, carrying two mugs.
'Hot and sweet with extra caffeine. Just what you need Ed.' Freeman's voice was jovial but Straker could detect an undercurrent of concern. 'Look, why don't you leave the reports and take a break. Go and look round the studios. Heaven knows it's been long enough since they saw you there. Some of the producers are beginning to wonder if you still exist. Fresh air might do you some good as well.'
Straker leaned back in his chair. 'I don't think they would be pleased to see me today after the chaos this morning. Speaking of which…' he looked at Alec and sighed. 'Yes, I know. I overreacted this morning and sorry, but I was hoping things might get a bit easier. Anyway, I've been looking over the personnel files and I've realised that Peter Claybourne will be a hard act to follow.'
'Anyone in mind? Or are you looking at making an external appointment?' Freeman queried.
'I'll keep an open mind about that for now,' Straker said, unwilling to express his concerns about the Security Department, and in particular Michael Jenson. Since Pete's death the interim Security Chief had been acting in a manner that could be described as erratic. Granted he had been found unconscious after the alien attack, and had complained of headaches, but Straker had a gut feeling that there was something more sinister in his behaviour and he regretted not spending more time with the security division in the past days. He had a feeling that there was more to Jenson's behaviour than mere resentment at Pete's death.
'I'm going to miss him Ed.' Alec Freeman admitted. 'Claybourne was one of the few people who was with us from the start.' He paused, looked sideways at Straker sitting there. 'I didn't see you yesterday at his wake. Any particular reason?'
Straker was silent for a few moments, his interlaced fingers tapping against his lips. 'His team believe I was responsible for Peter's death. Even though I had ordered him to stay out of the target zone until back-up arrived, he went ahead and got caught as a result. It wasn't the first time he had done that.' He leaned forward and picked up his paperweight, rolling it in his fingers and thinking. 'I told them that I would have court-martialled Peter if he had survived, Henderson or no Henderson,' he stated with a note of bitterness in his voice. 'I suppose in time they'll get over it, but the new Chief is going to find it hard going. It's not easy to replace someone like Pete.'
Freeman nodded and picked up a thin stack of folders from the conference table. 'These the short listed candidates?'
Straker nodded. 'I've whittled it down to four. I'll take the files with me and make a decision tonight. With any luck I can get the security complement back to full strength by the end of the week.'
Once Alec had left, Straker flicked the switch to lock his office door and dialled a number. It was not against the rules to use his security clearance for personal matters, but it was frowned upon. He didn't care though. Pete Claybourne's last wishes would be granted.
Ten minutes later it was all arranged. He would collect Pete's ashes from the Crematorium tomorrow. SHADO had been Pete's family and it was Straker's duty to see that Peter Claybourne's mortal remains ended up where they should, on that long curving trajectory out into space.
He unlocked the office door, picked up his briefcase and went out into the bustle of the control room.
'Lieutenant Ford, contact Moonbase and tell Lt. Ellis that I'll be arriving tomorrow for a twenty-four hour visit. I'll contact her later with the details,' Straker said before continuing in a dry tone, 'and then you can notify Colonel Freeman that I am going out to the studio for some fresh air, as per his instructions. Then I am going home.'
He headed out of the building towards the studio lots to spend the next half hour in his role as Ed Straker, film executive before calling it a day with a sigh of relief. All part of the job.
Late that night with the last of the paperwork locked away in his briefcase, he relaxed. It was quiet in the house; no sound of passing traffic disturbed the peace and there were no neighbours. The building was as safe as SHADO security could make it with alarms and sensors, bullet proof glass, panic room. Everything designed to protect him, yet somehow it all conspired to make him feel even more vulnerable, too isolated and cut off from the real world, and there were times when he would have relished the noise from a crowd of drunken revellers wandering home in the early hours, to confirm that he was a part of the world. Once he was inside this fortified prison he was alone.
Shaking his head at his own foolish thoughts he went over to sit at his piano and brush his fingertips across the dusty keys. He had made his decision regarding the replacement for Claybourne. It would not go down well and he expected opposition to the appointment, but his mind was made up. He flexed his fingers and began to play.