Chapter 9
The transport had been arranged for 20.00 hours. They had let him have a shower, earlier, and he had stood under the hot spray for a long, long time, one hand pressed against the wall, head down, feeling the water pour over his shoulders, over his body, washing away his tension and tiredness. He turned the heat up gradually, until it was as hot as he could bear, and then just stood, leaning, thinking, as the water cascaded over him.
Breathing the hot, moist air, he slowly relaxed, slowly tried to come to terms with what was going to happen to him. He thought of her, of Alec, of his past and whatever future he would be facing in the next hours. There were regrets, certainly, but also an acceptance of what had happened, what must be. And finally, resigned, he lifted his face up to the spray, the water washing away any tears that he may have shed, unseen.
Enough. He known what might happen when he had set out on this course of action, and now he must see it through to the end.
A bitter end though.
He closed his eyes in silent prayer.
And then he rubbed his fingers through his drenched hair, switched off the shower and stepped out into the heavy steamy atmosphere. He stood, naked, rubbing his face with the small hand towel that he had found, neatly folded, at the bottom of the small overnight bag. It had been Rachel's. He could sense the fragrance of her still clinging faintly to the soft fabric, or perhaps it was just his imagination, his desperate loneliness, wanting it to be so. He held onto it until he could no longer discern the scent. Then he folded it carefully, meticulously, and put it aside.
He finished drying himself, briskly and efficiently now, and dressed in the clean clothes Alec had brought. Pale jumper, dark suit. His hair was still too long though. He frowned as he felt it hang over his collar. An impressive bruise had formed over one eye and another was beginning to make itself felt on his jaw. He grimaced as he gently massaged his sore skin, feeling the unwelcome heavy stubble. Still, in a while it wouldn't matter.
Silently they entered his cell and handcuffed him. There was no conversation. It was past the time for that.
He was used to the routine by now; hands out, cuffs on; follow the guard, no talking. And they anticipated no problems with him. But when he left the building and saw the discreetly armoured van pulled up outside, with the supervising officer who would be travelling inside with him he halted, shocked and despairing. As if he had suddenly realised exactly what was going to happen to him in the next hours.
There was only one thing he could do now to try to save the situation. With an angry roar of rage he lunged for her, grabbing her by the throat in an attempt to throttle her.
'This is all your fault. If you had only lent me your gun as I pleaded,' he managed to shout hoarsely before they forced him to the ground and restrained him, despite his desperate, frantic struggles.
Elizabeth Anderson gasped for breath, the marks from his clutching, strangling, strong fingers livid on her throat. She looked down at him, saddened and dismayed.
'I can't go with him now,' she told the duty officer. 'It's not fair on either of us. It will only distress him more. He's clearly no longer rational.'
She turned away distressed. She had transferred to the SHADO HQ a few weeks earlier with Straker's approval, and had recalled that night on the hill last year when he had talked about killing himself, when she had refused to lend him her gun, when he slept in her arms like a child. She had volunteered for this duty, knowing what he had suffered the last year and how he had responded to her on the hill.
She was hoping to be able to bring him some sort of peace before they carried out the execution. She hoped to be able to talk to him about his son, about how death was not the end, and how he would be reunited with John, as he had wanted so much to be reunited with him last year.
'I'll go. After all it was initially my job. I've no worries about him attacking me. Once we've got him confined in the van he won't be able to cause any problems.' Mark Butler, the Acting Chief of Security stepped forward to take the position that he had been assigned before Lt Anderson's request to travel with the prisoner was approved.
Straker was suddenly still. Pinned down on the ground he was unable to move, but he was frozen, rigid, as if waiting for a momentous event to occur. It all hinged on this one moment in time.
Everything.
Alec Freeman, waiting in the background, stepped forward, his face bleak and unfathomable. He nodded.
'Very good, Mark. You can take Lt Anderson's place.' the duty officer agreed, and Ed Straker slowly relaxed, as if he was no longer able to fight against the overwhelming strength of the team holding him securely pinned to the ground.
They dragged him, unresisting, into the van, and chained him securely to the bench, his arms twisted to one side, so that he was not able to move easily. It would not be a comfortable ride, or a short one, but that was of no concern now.
He was quiet now, not making a sound. As if he had finally given up all hope.
They set off. It was a small convoy, only the van, unmarked and unremarkable, and one car, following behind, driven by Colonel Freeman, grim faced, silent, alone. The others, Foster, Henderson, the firing squad selected by Freeman from the SHADO security team, had gone ahead. They would be waiting for his arrival.
Straker, chained in the van, arms aching with the discomfort of the unaccustomed position, was silent. He had nothing else to say, nothing else to do now, just wait. A long thirty minutes went by, seemingly endless. Straker sat, and thought, and hoped. And prayed.
And then;
Butler leaned forward. 'Sir,' he spoke in a courteous tone, 'if I remove your handcuffs, will you give me your word that you won't attack me?'
'My word? What value does the word of a self-confessed traitor have?' Straker voice dripped with cynicism.
'Commander. If you give me your word, then I will release you. I need to talk to you, but I would prefer to do it from a position of trust, not coercion.'
Straker took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the hard, bare metal of the van. Then he lifted his hands as far as possible, to have the cuffs removed.
'You'd better have a good reason for this.' he said quietly to Butler as the chains were removed. Rubbing his wrists and arms, and stretching to relieve the aching discomfort, he peered at the young Security team leader in the gloom of the interior. 'Butler. You joined SHADO some eighteen months ago. Moved up the promotion ladder and now you're Acting Security Chief. Why risk everything by taking my cuffs off?'
Butler paused, then opened his jacket and took out a second gun. 'Here sir, you might need this.' he said, handing it over to Straker.
'What in Hell's name is going on, Butler?' Straker felt the gun, tested its weight, its sights, its balance, the magazine, then slipped it easily and naturally into his waistband at his back. For all his concern at the surprising turn of events, he was not about to forego the opportunity to be armed.
'Sir, if I might explain,' Butler began but was halted by Straker's expression.
'I could shoot you right now.' Straker told him coldly.
'But you won't sir. I know you won't. You want to know what is going on? Very well then.' Butler took a deep breath and began.
'For some time now there has been a small, but gradually increasing group of us who feel that the aliens are gaining the upper hand in their battle and that SHADO are destined to be defeated in the near future. We have been in contact with some of these aliens in their nearby base here on Earth, and we think that it is about time that the people of our world knew exactly what was going on in SHADO. We need your help…' Butler paused, and stared at his superior officer.
Straker stared back. Not blinking, not speaking, not moving. Butler began to fidget uncomfortably, his hands twisting together, his eyes flickering around the close confines of the small transport vehicle.
'What do you need me to do?' The question brought a short gasp of relief from the security man.
'Well Commander….'
'No, not now. Never again. Call me by my name; Ed.'
'Very well,…Ed. We want to help the aliens establish a proper base here on Earth. A base that they can use to develop their technology so that they can begin to gain access to our planet. To do this they need to be able to get here safely, without fear of being attacked. You can help us, sir. You still have the master command codes and gateway codes for all SHADO forces. If you give us those codes so that we can help the aliens to secure a secure haven here on Earth, we will ensure that you are given safe passage to anywhere in the world. Or of course, you could stay here and help us.' Butler waited.
'Help you in what way?' Straker was interested, leaning forward, wanting to know more.
'You said at your Court Martial that SHADO is fighting a losing battle. That the aliens are going to win. You are right of course. They are going to win, so why not be on the winning side? Work with them to help them in their fight. Who knows where that might lead to? They are not interested in politics, simply survival. There will be positions of great power and influence to be filled when they are in control. You could fill one of those positions.' He stopped, waiting for Straker to reply.
'Interesting.' The reply was curt and thoughtful. Straker pulled out the gun that Butler had given him. 'There's only one problem.'
Mark Butler blanched as Straker sighted down the gun.
'No Mark, not you. I am very tempted by your offer. The problem is currently not far behind us. Alec Freeman. He will have to be dealt with, sooner rather than later. He knows too much. He will be in charge of SHADO shortly, and he has the expertise and knowledge to circumvent any attempts by outsiders to assist the aliens. Tonight at Midnight, whatever happens to me, he will be given control of the new command codes and I will no longer be able to access them. He needs to be eliminated. Is the driver of this van working with your group?' Straker asked.
Mark nodded.
'Then get him to stop. Alec Freeman will come up to see what has happened. I can get rid of him quickly and we can be on our way. You did say the aliens have a base nearby? Once Alec is out of the picture you can take me there and I can give you all the information you need, including the additional recognition ciphers for Moonbase and the Skydivers. In the confusion following Colonel Freeman's death, I anticipate we will have quite some time before the IAC will be able to make any rational decision on a successor for the post of SHADO Commander.' He smiled a predatory grin at Butler, running his fingers along the smooth barrel of the gun. 'Well? Your move I think.'
Butler leaned against the partition separating the driver from the cargo hold and thumped twice. The van careered off the road, slamming to a halt, and throwing the two passengers onto the floor.
'Sorry,…Ed.' Mark helped him back onto the hard bench seat. 'We planned what to do in this situation, but Philip there has obviously been watching too many action films. Our plan was to make it look like we had a blow-out or something.'
Straker smiled thinly.
They could hear a car brake suddenly, tyres screeching on the tarmac, could hear the driver get out and head for the front of the van.
Alec Freeman's voice. Calling to ask the driver of the van if he was okay.
It all happened so suddenly, so quickly, even Straker, afterwards had difficulty in recalling the precise sequence of events. But it was not the sort of thing that you wanted to recall anyway. He hoped he would not have too many nightmares about it, afterwards.
They heard the driver stumble out of the cab, vociferously complaining about the burst tyre. They heard Alec Freeman walk down to the back of the van, heard him unlock the door from the outside, heard his voice asking if Butler was alright.
The door swung open, moonlight silhouetting the burly figure of Colonel Freeman in the doorway.
Straker leaned forward. 'Hello Alec,' his voice sarcastically cool. He aimed his gun. 'Sorry to spoil your plans. But you would never have made a good job of being Commander. You're too trusting.' And he pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit Alec in the chest, blood instantly spurting from the wound. Freeman gasped in shock, his eyes starting to glaze over as he staggered backwards into the moonlight, blood frothing on his lips as his punctured lungs fought to breathe.
Straker stepped out and stood over him where he lay, struggling to get up. 'Change of plan Colonel. I get to live. You get to die. Tough.'
Freeman dragged himself up on one arm, a great crimson stain covering the front of his jacket. He was unable to speak but glared at his executioner with hatred and loathing.
Straker fired again. The second bullet again hitting Freeman in the chest and knocking him to the ground, where he lay, writhing slowly, in the last throes of agony, bloodied and dying, hands clutching at the fatal wound in a futile attempt to stave off the inevitable darkness of death.
'Well, shall we go then?' The Commander took one last look at the body of his erstwhile friend. He was perfectly calm and detached, as if he had simply fired at a paper target instead of a living, breathing human.