Chapter 2

Beyond the secret door in Whitehall were the steps down to a classified basement. Richard Hannay began his flight down those stairs while sub-consciously counting each step; a habit that began in the days leading up to The Great War. There were far more than thirty nine. A large oak door with a brass handle was at the bottom.

The space beyond was was a large room with an ornate lounge, conference table and filing cabinets. Paintings and photographs hung on the walls along with electric lamps. Historical objects, too many to name, decorated the scene; they either sat on pedestals, appeared in glass casings or stood proud on the many mantle pieces.

Although the furniture was available for either casual discussion in the lounge or a serious meeting over the conference table, the two men already present were making use of neither. They were standing while discussing , if not arguing.

One was Mycroft Holmes or M as he was known to those in the espionage community. Brandy, cigars and lazy afternoons in the Diogenes Club had taken their toll on his physique, he was quite portly and Richard wondered how he was going to manage the stairs. The other figure was Sir Robert Morton, an ex-barrister who was quite passionate about justice, now a member of Parliament and M's connection to the ruling body. It is surmised by many that Sir Robert will succeed Mycroft as M.

Both faces suddenly turned towards Hannay.

"Well Richard." Said M. "You have been to the front. Do those disturbing reports we have been receiving have any truth to them?"

"They do M." Replied Richard. "When I was there I saw the horror with my own eyes."

"What did you see?" Demanded Sir Robert.

"War machines with huge firepower and easy maneuverability that put our tanks to shame. Once they pound our defences into jelly, a large mass of human sized monsters raced across no man's land to finish off whatever remains of the soldiers. The German's control these monstrosoties; where they have appeared, they have pushed our defence lines back, creating awkward bulges that could force a general backward reorganisation."

M and Sir Robert lowered their heads as their fears just found the confirmation they didn't want,

"What's really bad about this." Richard continued. "Is what those freakish fiends do to our soldiers when they attack. They mutilate, mangle and bodily tear them apart, they never take prisoners. If all our soldiers hear about this, morale would plummet; there would be mass desertions at the slightest hint of those things attacking."

"Thank you Hannay." Said Sir Robert who then turned to M. "We have to locate the scientists who are producing this horror and stop them. Where is Ashenden, we must put him on the case at once."

" This is beyond his abilities. Anyway, I have sent Ashenden to Denmark." Said M.

"Denmark, what in blazes is he doing there?"

A bout of arguing had begun and as it got more frenzied, Richard Hannay moved away from its epicentre to view the gallery of paintings, They were of Leagues of Extraordinary Gentlemen: several had existed throughout the last few centuries. Mina Murray was leader of the current League and their group photograph hung proud on the wall alongside portraits of other such groupings.

What took Richards attention was the figure of Baron Munchausen with drawn sabre, shown in a nearby painting, presenting the League he put together in the mid eighteenth century. There was a man in tanned buckskins with a long upright musket and a coonskin hat. An American Indian with a tomahawk and musket crossed as well as another weapon strapped to his back leaving only the handle visible. There was a man at the end who either had a bad complexion or the artist was unkind and he had no weapons, just a perfume bottle. The woman was a scene stealer, her dress showed much shoulder and cleavage; she exuded lust and her pose seemed to cry out for it. It would have been difficult for the man next to her to keep his eyes off her. He was a tall blonde youth who must have found being next to her and maintaining a balanced pose a hot ordeal; for he had removed his military top and placed it on a chair, leaving him to be painted with a frilly white shirt with a open neckline.

"My dear M." Said Sir Robert. "It seems we must assign to this task The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with all haste."

"You're quite right Sir Robert. " Answered M. "But Mina Murray and her League are all tied up on another mission right now. I cannot recall them."

"You must. We have a crisis here that could turn the course of the war against us and our allies."

"It can't be done." Said M. "What we're going to have to do is assemble the emergency League and put them to this task."

Sir Robert Looked mortified. After a deathly silent pause he moved to the filing cabinet and pulled out a file.

" You can't be serious M." He asked. "When you pitched this League to me it sounded so preposterous that it had to be a joke."

"I'm sorry if you find this idea so incomprehensible Sir Robert, But my judgment must hold sway here. This is the League for the job."

Richard could read Sir Roberts face. The parlimentarian was asking himself the question that he dare not vocalise. Mycroft's little brother had long since retired from his profession, so why is this portly, indulgent layabout still occupying this important government post when he seems to be long overdue for retirement himself.

"M, I must protest of all these individuals listed, the pilot is the only one I approve of." Sir Robert yelled as flicked through the file. "Now what else do we have here; a primordial savage, a criminal, a German and this!"

Sir Robert Morton picked out a page and shook it like he wanted to throttle it.

"This is something totally bizarre. A zoo is the place for this foul thing."

This time Richard read Mycroft's face. It showed doubt. Doubt that Sir Robert Morton should ever succeed him as M.

"Nevertheless." Commanded M. "These are the ones who are best suited for the job. All we have to do is get them here and explain the situation to them. Leave the motivation to me. Once they are sent out you will be astounded as you were shocked. Just go with this and see.

Sir Robert seemed suitably resigned to what he considered a morbid undertaking; his protests were replaced with an inactive stupor, until a demand from M snapped him to attention.

"You did mention the need for haste." Blurted M. "So we must get to work at once."