Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me.

Author's Note: Okay, many many apologies for the long delay since I last posted. Many difficult real life problems had to be dealt with and although my health is improving it didn't help me sort stuff out. Still now the road ahead is clear and here I am with another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Now I know that some of you will be champing at the bit as to what is happening with Celebrian and her vampire, but there are other parts of the story to bring together as well and other characters who need attention!

E. Lee DeGolyer – a very valid point, thank you for pointing that out. As a nearly 59 year old myself I do know that those who did serve in Vietnam are my age or older. In fact the character of Hal Kenwood is partially based on a Vietnam veteran I got to know through service in the first Gulf War in 1991, he was a couple or three years older than me and ultimately was divorced by his wife because his PTSD was quite bad. He decided to throw caution to the wind and go and live by himself in Alaska after that happened. There were no children from the marriage. I do hear from him very occasionally when he decides to find an internet connection so he can tell everyone who is still alive that he's still alive and kicking.

Of course you have rumbled me with regard to Hal to some extent, he is linked to Elrond, but not nearly as directly as a distant ancestor, the distant ancestor is still to be unmasked and Hal will play a large part in that unmasking. I should also say that I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with comments about the story. They are all grist to my mill and I take everything on board as constructive criticism, so please, never worry about saying what is on your mind, I never react to such criticism with hostility.

For those who are curious with regard to Hal's link with Chief Knowles, I should tell you that Chief himself is not exactly a spring chicken. The British Army used to have something called the Long Service List and people who did not want to leave the military at 40 could actually extend their service until the age of 55 by applying to go on the list. Commissioned Officers serve until that age anyway. I think the LSL is not in operation now, but for the purposes of the story Chief is a Long Service List soldier at the top end of the age scale. He served with Hal who I envisage as around my age or perhaps a year or so older as part of an exchange system with the US Army which also used to exist ten years ago or so. I believe it still does exist in some form or another. I do hope though that readers of the story use suspension of disbelief in some areas, but I am always delighted when someone points something out that might bother them!

Now...on to the next part of the story!

"Whenever you look at a piece of work and you think the fellow was crazy, then you want to pay some attention to that. One of you is likely to be, and you had better find out which one it is. It makes an awful lot of difference. "

Charles Franklin Kettering (1876-1958) U. S. engineer and inventor.

Dark Power Arising

Chapter 21 – Rearranging the Genes

Vargulfa Scientific Research Group, just outside Portland, Maine USA

The man was alone in the antiseptic, white and pristine laboratory surrounded by the masses of sterile, shining paraphernalia associated with such a place. He bent over his computer screen and peered closely at the lines of data unfolding on it, most of which would look like utter gobbledygook to any lay person. Occasionally he would stop and scribble down notes on a thick yellow notepad.

The lab coat that hung over the back of his chair bore a plastic name tag with the words

Dr Fryderyk Gustaw, PhD, RNAi

The letters RNAi were not part of the qualifications after his name, although most people would have certainly thought they were. RNAi actually stands for RNA interference which is a method for studying gene function which allows the "knock-out" of genes in many organisms, including human cell lines. It is commonly used throughout various phases of pharmaceutical and drug discovery research, as well as in academic and industrial research for target identification and validation.

It wasn't unusual for him to be there long after the normal workday had ended and most of his colleagues had gone home to wherever home was. In fact he never bothered to ask them anything about themselves and for all he knew they could have either been solid family men and women or budding serial killers. It also wasn't that he couldn't have interacted socially with them, after all he was as social as the next guy, it was simply that he did not wish to and, in fact, had no need to.

Therefore they came and they went and it seemed to them that he must always be there night and day since he was at his bench and equipment when they got to work and was still sitting there, hunched over some part of his experiments, when they left.

"He's a loser." One of the young female scientists on the staff had thrown out with a toss of her blonde ponytail one day while they were sitting in the canteen having lunch. "A no-lifer."

Her comments had been interrupted by a gentle remonstration from one of her Asian colleagues, a clever man from Lahore in India who they knew simply as Ram. "No, no Lindy." His soft vaguely sing-song voice protested. "You must not say such things. We do not know what his circumstances are since he rarely speaks of his personal life. As far as we know he could have had a personal disaster, death of wife or children or some such sadness."

The blonde had stared at her colleague with a slightly malicious smile tugging at the corners of her perfect mouth. "You know your trouble don't you Ram?"

Ram had smiled that beaming smile of his at her, revealing a set of admirably strong white teeth. "No indeed, but I am very sure you are about to tell me."

The others at the canteen table had laughed and Lindy had laughed with them, thereby defusing the momentarily tense atmosphere somewhat and whatever else she had been about to say died on her lips as the subject of their discussion sidled in through the canteen doors and headed for the self service food counter.

"He's just weird." Lindy said eventually, sotto voce, once he had carried his tray to the far end of the canteen and was out of earshot. "Sorry, but that's how I feel. He gives me the creeps." She shuddered dramatically, picked her empty tray up and slung it in the large rack. "Well I'm off, got a huge presentation to do for the big boss Honcho. Apparently he's come all the way from New York, New York just to inspect my project. Who knows? Maybe I am heading for the big time."

And amidst cries of 'good luck' and 'knock 'em dead Lindy' she sashayed out of the canteen, ponytail swinging from side to side in the jaunty fashion they had come to think of as peculiarly hers.

Fryderyk's eyes, so pale a grey as to be almost colourless, followed her departure and a faint, not quite pleasant, smile hovered about his lips.

It was the last time any of them ever saw Lindy Collier again, and although it was put out by the company that Dr Lindy Collier PhD, expert in genetic science, had moved on to pastures new and better things, there was a strange feeling among them all that she had perhaps spoken out loud once too often.

People she had been friends with and had socialised with her had gradually become aware that all trace of her existence in Portland, Maine, including her smart little apartment, was being wiped completely and very efficiently to the point that even her neighbours denied that she had ever lived in the apartment block and just looked genuinely puzzled when asked about her. None of them had been aware of any family, so without anyone obvious to ask, Lindy Collier slowly slipped into the murky shadows of memory and eventually was rarely referred to at all.

However, as a result of her disappearance, apparently into thin air, Ram and the others had become very circumspect about what they said and who they talked about on staff. They came to work, did their job and counted themselves very fortunate if they got out of the building and back home in one piece. If they did speak at all it was in the privacy of their homes and even then they were wary; the feeling of being 'overlooked' was always with them.

So it was that Fryderyk got the peace he wanted to pursue his pet theories and the work set to him by the Research Group. He knew his work in genetic engineering was important and had already borne fruit, although certain aspects of the work needed refining and this was what held his attention night after night and day after day. He did have a small apartment, but mostly when he wanted to sleep he used a sleeping bag in the corner of the laboratory and showered in the employee showers, also eating breakfast in the canteen.

The rumours were, therefore, not so far from the truth. Dr Gustaw literally lived to work and tonight...tonight he was witnessing an unprecedented triumph in that work. His hand shook as he lifted up the telephone receiver and began to dial a number. Moments later a polite but cool male voice answered on the other end of the line.

"Good evening, you have reached the head office of Angband Enterprises, how may I assist you?"

ooOoo

The office of W01 (SSM) Knowles, Staff Assistant, HQ 4 Division, Aldershot Garrison, England

The young soldier tentatively knocked on the closed office door and stood waiting patiently for an answer...any kind of answer, only he waited in vain because all was silent within the room.

He hesitated before turning to walk back to the small guardhouse which stood at the end of a small private road leading to the HQ building and as he did so a laconic voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Were you wanting me Corporal?" Chief Knowles stepped out of the doorway of the small office opposite his own where the photocopier was kept. He had an enormous sheaf of papers in his arms and was balancing a mug of coffee at the same time, the contents of which were slopping haphazardly over the tiled floor.

The Corporal reached out and took the mug. "Yes sir I was looking for you, there's a visitor in the guardhouse for you."

Knowles frowned slightly and gestured with his head for the young man to open the office door. "Thank you. What kind of visitor?" He asked cautiously. With Elves, Maiar and Werewolves flying around, not to mention the odd vampire, one could never be to careful about one's visitors.

The young soldier blinked. "What kind? Um...well, the usual kind sir, it's a male sir, a gentleman from America judging by his accent." He carefully placed the mug of coffee on the mat next to the computer and stepped back.

Chief dumped the papers on a chair and sat down. "American eh? Does this American visitor have a name?"

The Corporal coloured to the roots of his hair with mortification and fumbled in his pocket. He eventually produced a crumpled piece of paper. "Sorry sir. He says his name is Kenwood sir, Mr Hal Kenwood and he says you are old friends." He was more than a little stunned when Chief bounced back up from his seat.

"Hal Kenwood? Hal Kenwood is here? Dear god there's a name from the past to conjure with. Don't just stand there Corporal, escort him in."

The by now very confused Corporal backed away to the door, totally forgot who he was talking to and saluted sloppily. "Yes sir, right away sir."

As he ran out of the main door of the building he was aware that Chief had followed him out and was standing on the steps leading up to the main door.

"For god's sake Corporal, you've been in the bloody army long enough to know that you don't salute non-commissioned officers. Get a grip man!" He bellowed after the hapless young soldier.

"Sorry sir." The Corporal managed to throw back at Chief breathlessly.

Knowles shook his head in mock despair and headed back up the steps only to meet Brigadier Gary Matthews aka Eönwë on his way out. Eönwë had only just returned to England leaving Thranduil and the others in France to pursue Celebrian and the vampire. Unfortunately the Herald had to reluctantly return to duty as ordered by the General, although he knew they were probably safe from the werewolves for the time being seeing as how Draugluin had now made such a dramatic entry onto the scene and was probably engaged in keeping his errant progeny in check. Certainly over a period of two days after the battle in Marseilles and Celebrian and Maksim's flight from the vampire house, neither hide nor hair had been seen of any werewolves and therefore the Herald had left Thranduil and the others to track Celebrian and Maksim down at their place of refuge.

"Was that you attempting to deafen everyone within range of your very impressive vocal chords?" The Herald raised an eyebrow at Chief who grinned at him unabashed.

"My apologies for disturbing your delicate shell-likes sir. Bloody kids they bring in these days, in the old days we wouldn't have forgotten such a basic thing and if we did they'd have made us scrub the bathroom floor with a toothbrush for a week." He noticed that Eönwë had donned his peaked cap and was wearing his smart number two dress. "Well don't we look all spiffy. Off to something nice?"

Eönwë winced. "I am not sure about your definition of nice. I'm late picking Kim up and we are going with the General and his lady wife to an afternoon reception at the local council offices in the company of the Mayor and his wife. Not my idea of fun, poncing about being pleasant to a bunch of people who are so far up their own backsides they haven't seen daylight for years." He growled in a most un-Maia way.

It was the Chief's turn to raise an eyebrow. "My, my sir, now that was most Gary Matthews-like of you. It almost took me straight back to the old days before the War of Wrath."

Eönwë broke down into a fit of the giggles. "Yes it did didn't it? I am rapidly beginning to understand why Gary...I...used to talk like that. Sometimes it just pops out. Kim thinks it's funny."

Chief chuckled along with him and then reached up. "If you'll allow me sir..." He removed Eonwe's cap, breathed on the already mirror-like peak and rubbed at it with the sleeve of his sweater. Once he was satisfied he placed the cap very carefully on the Herald's head and stood back to admire his handiwork. "There...can't have our Chief of Staff looking like a mess with a blotch on the peak of his cap, can we?"

Eönwë opened his mouth to retort that he hadn't seen a blotch when he put it on, but was interrupted by the young Corporal who appeared at the bottom of the steps with Chief's visitor, a tall, lean man with shaggy dark hair threaded through with silver and twinkling grey eyes in a face sunburned and weatherbeaten. He could have been any age from mid-fifties and above. A frisson of memory swept through the Herald's mind. There was something very familiar about the man. He smiled and nodded and the man returned his greeting with a nod of his own.

The Corporal stopped dead when he saw the Brigadier and froze for a split second. He half lifted his hand in a salute and then seemed to think better of it and dropped it back to his side. He shot an agonising glance at the Chief and was aware of the amused, and now silent, Brigadier.

"Oh crap." He muttered under his breath and Eönwë had to turn his head to try and hide the laughter that bubbled up.

Chief stared at the Corporal unblinkingly. "Yes Corporal." He pointed at Eönwë who was struggling to maintain his composure. "This time, you do salute him. He's a very high ranking officer holding the Queen's Commission. I'm the one you don't salute."

Hal Kenwood gave a snort of laughter which he turned into a cough at the last minute.

The young Corporal went red, then white and snapped to attention. He whipped up his hand in a very smart salute to Eönwë, who politely returned the gesture, all the while being very much aware of the fact that the visitor from America was grinning widely at the whole scene.

A mobile phone rang and all them felt for their phones, including the Corporal.

"It's mine." Eönwë said apologetically holding up his mobile phone. "My wife. Apparently I am now very late and I need to go." He nodded at Chief and the visitor and ran lightly down the steps. As he passed the harassed and mortified young soldier who was waiting for a lecture he bent down and whispered conspiratorially in his ear. "His bark is much worse than his bite Corporal."

"I heard that sir." Chief said sternly as he ushered Hal Kenwood into the building.

Eönwë threw his beautiful smile at all of them and eased himself into his Range Rover. Chief shook his head and laughed and the Corporal, who had only ever stood to attention in the presence of the Herald in his capacity of Chief of Staff, immediately joined the rest of the adoring Eönwë fan club.

Hal nodded towards the disappearing Range Rover. "He's got a way with him."

"Oh you don't know the half of it my friend. What I can't wait to hear is why you've decided to visit after all these years. What on earth are you doing here in England? Not that I'm not delighted to see you." Chief led Hal into his office and shifted the large sheaf of papers he had been photocopying earlier from the only other chair in the room besides his own to the top of a small filing cabinet.

Hal settled himself in the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him and eyed the gently steaming mug of coffee on Chief's desk. "It's a long story Chief and a mug of that coffee would definitely speed things along in the telling."

ooOoo

Later that afternoon.....

Chief sat back in his chair when Hal had finished his tale of the wolves that weren't and observed the tall American with a long measured stare until Hal shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Look, if this story is a bit much to take in and believe I totally understand." He began and there was a slightly defensive tone in his voice. "I'm not even sure I believe it myself and I was there!"

Knowles waved a hand at him. "Hal, I consider that we got to know each other very well down through the years and serving with you was an honour. I have never ever known you to exaggerate the truth of anything and I don't think you are starting to do that now. I do believe you..."

"You do?" Hal abruptly jumped up from his seat and paced agitatedly around the small office. The nervous feeling he had been living with for the past week or so began to dissipate a little and he realised just how much he had been relying on his old friend believing him. "Thank the Lord. To be honest on the way over here I kept thinking just how damn far-fetched it all sounded. The past couple of days I was thinking that I had actually lost the last of my marbles altogether."

"Where are you staying?" Chief asked abruptly after a moment's thought.

"A hotel in London, why?" Hal looked puzzled. He could the thought processes revolving around in Chief's mind from the thoughtful expression on his face.

"No reason, I just think you might be safer if I take you to stay with some friends of mine who live locally." Chief replied quite carefully, he didn't want to worry Hal any more than he was already, but how to broach the subject of Elves and Maiar to him without making him too skeptical of the Chief's state of mind, never mind his own?

Hal stopped and stared grimly at him. "You think I'm still in danger of some kind." He said in a flat tone of voice.

Chief shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you Hal. I could say it was a gut feeling and we both understand those very well, but to be honest, I need you to meet these friends of mine and they will be able to make things clearer for you. You'll understand when you meet them and I'll feel better once they've heard your story."

The American nodded slowly. "Okay, I guess I could send to the hotel for my things."

"Don't worry about them for the moment. I know someone who can pick them up for you and settle your bill at the same time." Chief quickly checked his watch and realised that it had turned five o'clock. He began to methodically clear his desk and lock files and paperwork away. Hal watched him in silence until his friend eventually grabbed his uniform cap from the hook on the wall and his combat jacket which he slung over his arm. "Time go methinks. The sooner I get you to safety, the better."

They left the building and Hal settled back in the Volvo estate car while Chief drove him to go and visit the Elves.

ooOoo

Fryderyk (Polish) proper noun, translates to Frederick in English

Gustaw (Polish) proper noun, translating into Gustav

Poncing, slang word (context, UK, pejorative) To behave in a posh or effeminate manner.

For Information:

Officers bearing the Queen's Commission in the British Army can serve until they are 55 and over depending on rank and what position they hold in their unit. They are entitled to 'compliments' from lower ranks, i.e. saluting but the soldier is not actually saluting the person bearing the Queen's Commission in the form of the cap badge, they are actually saluting the Commission itself as the living representation of the HM The Queen who is Head of the Armed Forces. This is why in the British Army you do not salute an officer if you are not wearing headgear and you definitely don't salaute an officer if he is not wearing headgear. You come to attention, but do not pay compliments.

Warrant Officers, of which Chief Knowles is one, were generally introduced throughout the British Army under Army Order 70 of 1915. They are not technically non-commissioned officers, but rather an additional rank structure above NCOs. Warrant Officers hold the Queen's (or King's) warrant, which is signed by the Secretary of State for Defence. There are only two ranks of Warrant Officers, Warrant Officer 1st Class (WO1) and Warrant Officer 2nd Class (WO2). Knowles is a WO1 Staff Sergeant-Major who is the administrative opposite of a Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM). A WO2 would generally hold a Company Sergeant Major title (CSM).

Both ranks are therefore at the top end of the Non-commissioned ranks scale which begins at Lance-Corporal. The rank immediately preceding Warrant Officer is Staff Sergeant which in some regiments is also known as Colour-Sergeant. Anything below Lance-Corporal is termed as part of the 'Other Ranks'.

Eönwë is a Brigadier which is a rank above full Colonel and one rank down from Lieutenant-General.