Monday, 31 December 1990

Anglo-Force: The Formation & The Return Of Saruman Chapter 8

New York City, 1933. The giant ape-like creature known as Kong had been terrorising the city for five hours. Kong had been brought to America from his home on Skull Island, as some sort of circus sideshow, and to make a lot of money for his captors. It was during his first public viewing that he had escaped and rampaged through the streets of New York. Now, with the beautiful Ann Darrow as his captive, he scaled the Empire State Building, the tallest building in the world. Then, as he neared the summit of the mighty building, four aeroplanes came into view. He gently laid his captive down. The aeroplanes circled the mighty beast, and attacked him with their machine guns. Twice he was hit in the throat with gun fire. As the small bi-planes began to swoop for another attack, something strange happened. It was as if a hole in the sky appeared. Slowly, the hole moved closer to the mighty Kong. The mighty beast was confused. He began to get covered by the huge hole. Slowly, he began to disappear, as if he was being transported to another place. Then the strange portal-like hole enveloped him completely. But as it began to close, one of the small planes flew into it. Then the hole closed up. Both the might Kong, and the small aeroplane were gone.
    Great Britain, over sixty years later. There was a huge public outcry. The tabloid press were having a field day over the Red Sun incident. “Britain’s protectors protect an international criminal” was one of the headlines. Some of the other papers were not as charitable.
    Concern was also growing in the political ranks. Some MP’s were now beginning to question the need for a group of super-powered protectors. A special meeting was called at Number Ten. Prime Minister Harkes summoned Mr. X, as leader of Anglo-Force, Dr. Magus, as leader of the Warriors, Arthur Pendragon, as solicitor for both groups, Inspector Solo, and Jock Muir, head of Muir Industries, who were currently constructing Anglo-Force’s headquarters. Also present were Captain James Watt, Thomas Leacock, and the Home Secretary, Sir Angus Campbell-Bannerman.
    Harkes rose to speak but as he opened his mouth no words came out. Then, Magus arose.
    “I apologise for robbing you of your voice, Prime Minister, but circumstances have arisen which make the original intent of this meeting pointless. This country is heading for…”
    Campbell-Bannerman rose to speak. A glare from Magus sat him down again. Magus continued.
    “As I was saying, we are heading for a grave crisis. There has been a shift in the balance of forces. I detected it myself whilst Anglo-Force battled the Nightmares. I have been contacted by others of my order for advice. My scans show the imbalance is coming from the country of Sylvania.”
    Harkes found his voice had returned. “What are you saying Magus?” he asked, his eyes grim.
    Magus looked around the room. All were silent.
    “The last time there was a shift in the forces of the universe like this led to the Wars of the Ring. I can not say what will happen yet, Prime Minister, but I do want one thing from you. I want Stonehenge sealed off, with a three mile perimeter. There is to be a council of wizards there and no ordinary mortal may attend.”
    Harkes could not believe his ears. “You want me to clear a national monument…”
    Mr. X laid a hand on Harke’s arm. “I would do as he asks. Magus does not ask for such things lightly.”

    The evacuation of the area around Stonehenge began three days later. The operation was headed by Inspector Solo and Chief Inspector Jeavons. Many roadblocks were set up and once everything was complete, the police forces left as well. The roadblocks were manned by the members of Anglo-Force and the Warriors.
    No one knew when, where or how the wizards arrived. Magus was already there but as Mr. X watched he could see the others…Ringulrun, Merlin, Gandalf and Radagast. Magus stood.
    “The Council of the Five is now in session.”
    “Here we can make our deliberations without being bothered by mortals.” smiled Radagast.
    “What do we know of this force?” asked Merlin.
    “All we know is that it is using the Portal of Xusia. One rescued the Nightmares.” said Magus grimly.
    “Then it is indeed serious.” said Ringulrun. “For such portals can be used to overlap time.”
    Magus nodded. “We could see time turned inside out.”
    The Council ended. Magus returned to his colleagues.
    “What have you decided?” asked the Captain.
    “We must seek out new allies.” replied Magus.

    While the meeting of the Istari had been taking place, Jock Muir had been driving home. As he was driving home, his mind turned back to some of the events which had taken place over the past few days, most notably the discussion with Mr. X and the Captain, about the original Anglo-Force.
    Soon, he arrived at his London home. It was one of his many homes that were dotted around the country. He had been staying in London because of the work on Anglo-Force’s headquarters.
    He opened the door and walked into the living room. He walked over to his cocktail cabinet, and poured himself a glass of scotch. He sat down, and was deep in thought for a few minutes. Then, he walked over to the book shelf and took out an old scrap book. The book was full of old newspaper clippings. Newspaper clippings documenting the rise and fall of the original Anglo-Force. The headlines ranged from “super-hero army saves the day” to “hail Anglo-Force”. There were photos of each of the members. There were photos of Dr. Magus, looking much younger, Stingray, the Beast Master, Prince Poseidon, and their leader, a canny Scotsman known as the Highlander.
    Muir then came to the pages covered in old black and white photographs. Photos of Anglo-Force gathered together. The five men toasting each other’s health at the formation, their first headquarters in the north of England. Muir smiled as he flipped through the pages. Then, he neared the end of the book, and he began to feel sad. Newspaper clippings documenting the demise of Anglo-Force after their leader, the Highlander, was seen de-capitating an opponent with his sword. As the team disbanded, the Highlander went missing. Nothing had been heard of him since.
    Muir finished his drink and then walked into his bedroom. He opened his wardrobe, and stood there, looking into it for a minute or two. Then, he reached in and took a hanger our. On the hanger out. On the hanger was a yellow costume. He turned it round, and of the front of the costume was the letter “S”. Muir held up the mask. He wondered whether the costume would still fit him, and whether he could still do what he did over thirty years ago. Thirty years ago, Jock Muir was one of the members of the original Anglo-Force. Thirty years ago, Jock Muir was known as Stingray.

    Vasaria, the late nineteenth century. A large lynch mob had gathered outside the village. The whole village had been terrorised by the monster which had been created by Victor Frankenstein. One small child had already been killed. Now the mob had chased the monster into an old, abandoned church, which was situated on the top of a hill. The monster entered the church, seeking refuge from the crowd. Then, the mob got near the old building. Crying for the monster’s demise, they threw their torches into the building. The dryness of the wood inside made it perfect for a fire. It immediately caught alight. It was not long before the whole building was on fire. The monster lunged about in fear, his fear of fire overcoming him. Then, when he thought his life would end in a fiery way, a small portal opened. The monster was even more confused. He seemed even more frightened when the portal got close to him. Then, before he could do anything, the portal engulfed him and the Frankenstein monster vanished from the nineteenth century. As far as the mob outside knew, the Frankenstein monster was no more.

    Plans were being made at Pendragon’s mansion. The special United Nations’s force, UNIT, as well as SHIELD, and other organisations, had been contacted. It was decided that the UN would take care of the American side of things. Magus sat in deliberation with Mr. X.
    “Although we are gathering a powerful force” said Magus, “it is still not strong enough.”
    “I know of two more possible candidates.” said Mr. X. “One would be easy to contact. We can get in touch with Prince T’Chuka through the Voltanian Embassy. But Clarkie, he’s a different matter altogether.”
    “Clarkie?” queried Magus. “Oh, you mean the Jet. He would indeed be a welcome ally, but he is very unpredictable.”
    “Then I’ll get in contact with the Voltanian Embassy.” said Mr. X. “And I’ll get our inspector friends to put out a call for Jet.”
    “There is one more thing, Simon.” said Magus. “May I suggest that, as you are leader of Anglo-Force, that you select a second in command. On an operation such as this, where we are going against an unknown force, a second in command is most necessary.”
    “Who do you suggest?” asked Mr. X.
    “May I suggest James?” Magus replied. “He has had command responsibilities in the RAF, during both the Gulf and Eugenics Wars. Should anything happen to you, he would be able to take over.”
    “Are you sure he’s up to it?” asked Mr. X. “The strain did show during the battle with the Nightmares.”
    “I have the utmost confidence in him.” said Magus. “And if he is to be your second, you must to.”
    “You’re right, as always.” said Mr. X. “Jim is the right choice.”

    The Voltanian Embassy was soon contacted, and a message was sent. Within a day, Watt was winging his way to Voltania. Little did he know that someone else was en route to Voltania, from Eastern Europe.
    A journey that would have taken a normal passenger aircraft a couple of hours took Watt roughly thirty minutes. When he was in Voltanian airspace he soon found the White Palace, the ancestral palace of Prince T’Chuka, which was situated in the Voltanian capital, N’dabu.
    Watt was greeted by two fearsome looking guards outside the White Palace. Both the guards were dressed in traditional Voltanian war dress. Soon, they were in the throne room. T’Chuka sat on his marvellous looking throne. He looked very stern as Watt as the guards entered. The silence was deafening as T’Chuka got up from his seat and walked over to Watt. He had the same stern look on his face. T’Chuka stared at Watt, who wondered what was going on. Then, T’Chuka broke out into a huge smile.
    “James!” he said. “It is good to see you again!”
    The two old friends embraced.
    “It has been a long time since the battle with Supremus and the Black Squadron.” said T’Chuka.
    “Come.” he said. “Let us go into the Royal Gardens. We will talk there.”
    A few minutes later, Watt and T’Chuka stood in the beautiful Royal Gardens. These gardens were off limits to almost all but a select few. Only the gardeners and the Royal family were allowed.
    “It’s amazing.” said Watt. “I’m not much of a gardener, but even I know that some of these plants can’t grow in this climate!”
    “The atmosphere in this garden can be controlled by computer.” explained T’Chuka. “A special dome can be used to create the right atmosphere. But enough of that. We have other matters to discuss.”
    Then, just as they sat down on one of the garden benches, a door opened. A man dressed as a Voltanian guard walked in. T’Chuka stood up.
    “What is this?” he boomed. “No one is allowed in these gardens without my permission!”
    “I do not need your permission.” said the man.
    The stranger quickly got rid of his Voltanian uniform, revealing a black, furry face. His ears were pointed. He resembled T’Chuka, when he was in his Tiger form.
    “N’Chaka!” said T’Chuka. “The Panther! I exiled you years ago!”
    “Exiles mean nothing to me, cousin!” sneered Panther. “Especially to my new employer!”
    Using his amazing agility, Panther leapt towards Watt. The Voltanian obviously knew nothing about the Captain’s powers, because he seemed surprised to see Watt moving so quickly. Then, T’Chuka entered the fray. While Panther had attacked Watt, T’Chuka became the Tiger. Panther somersaulted to another part of the gardens, gazed at T’Chuka, and pounced on him. Just before Panther touched him, T’Chuka unleashed his claws, and laid into Panther’s chest. Panther slumped to the ground, touched his chest, and looked at the blood on his hand.
    “You have made a mistake, cousin!” Panther sneered.
    Panther leapt to his feet, but still clutched his chest. Before he could make another attack on T’Chuka, he found Watt standing in front of him. Panther aimed a blow at Watt’s head, which he quickly blocked. No matter what sort of blow Panther aimed at Watt, Watt blocked it. Whilst this went on, T’Chuka had moved to a position behind Panther.
    “Surrender!” he ordered. “There is no way you can win!”
    “Never!” cried Panther. “A member of the Brotherhood never surrenders!”
    Then, just as Panther was about to be subdued, the portal appeared yet again. Before they could do anything, Panther was gone.
    “Now you know how grave the situation is.” said Watt. “It seems that our allies are in danger!”

    Nineteenth century Transylvania: a cloaked figure stood before Castle Dracula. As the sun set the figure strode through the gate.
    Down in the crypt a casket opened. Out stepped Vlad Drakul, Count Dracula. As he made his entrance into the great hall he saw the cloaked figure.
    “How dare you invade my inner sanctum!”
    The cloaked figure removed his hood. It revealed a head with flowing white hair, flecked with black. A many coloured cloak was just visible below the over cloak.
    “We have a common enemy, my dear Count. A certain Dr. Phineas Magus, an old rival of mine and an old enemy of yours.”
    “I know of Magus.” replied Dracula. “But who are you?”
    The other bowed low. “I am Saruman the White!”

    Magus and Thomas Leacock stood in his study at Craigmillar. Magus removed a key cast from the finest mithril silver, and pulled a heavy velvet curtain to one side. Then, he opened the door to the study. In trotted four animals, Teddy, Magus’ border collie, Toby, the Labrador, and Jimmy and Tabitha, the cats. Magus closed and then locked his study door. As the door swung open Leacock, now in the guise of Magician, could not believe his eyes. Gone were the rocky cliffs of Craigmillar Island, to be replaced by a cast field of shining snow. A herd of woolly mammoths moved across the horizon. Magus unfurled his Persian rug.
    “Where are we?” asked Magician.
    “We are in Istarix. I mean to seek out other allies.”
    Magus and his party soon left the boundaries of Istarix behind and were now sailing down the coasts of Middle-Earth. Thomas gazed up at the black sail above them.
    “Where does this ship come from?” he asked.
    “It is from the Corsairs of Umtar.” Magus replied.
    “But where are we going?” Thomas asked.
    “To the Land of the Gods!”
    A bank of fog enfolded the ship. When the fog cleared the ship was anchored at a dock. In the distance could be seen a towering city.
    “What is that?” asked Magician.
    “Valhalla.” smiled Magus. “We are meeting our allies!”
    They made their way towards the city. As they approached the gates two heavily armed guards barred their way. Then as Magician watched both his suit and Magus’ had been replaced by robes. The guards moved aside.
    Magus led Magician down into the Great Hall of Valhalla. Around the walls sat the gods of Asgard, Olympus, Egypt, China, Japan, and the Celtic gods.
    “Leave this to me.” said Magus.
    “Speak, Magus!” boomed Odin. “Why doest thou venture into the Land of the Gods?”
    “A great crisis looms on the planet Earth.” Magus replied. “A crisis that threatens the entire space/time continuum. A gathering of evil forces is taking place in Sylvania.”
    “We, too, have noticed a disturbance.” said Zeus. “A disturbance that has not been seen since the Ring Wars in Middle-Earth!”
    “Then why doest thou enter here?” boomed Odin. “Hast thou not gathered a force to combat this threat?”
    “I have, Lord Odin.” Magus replied. “But my observations tell me that my unknown adversary is gathering forces from the past, the present, and perhaps, the future. By doing this, he has slightly changed the course of history. I do not have the power to summon such forces. This is why I have come here. I seek your help.”
    “You wish us to join forces with you?” asked Zeus. “Alas, only a few of us can ever step foot on Earth.”
    Then, from out of the shadows walked a man. He carried in one hand a spear, and in the other, a sling. Then, he spoke.
    “I will go. For I am Lug, the Celtic god, the Lamfhada, the Samildanach. I am many. I am warrior, harper, poet and sorcerer.”
    “You are indeed most welcome, Lug.” said Magus. “You and your skills are very well known to me.”
    “Then so be it.” boomed Zeus. “Good luck to you and your forces, Magus. Remember this, the gods will go with you!”

    And so the force of good grew. It now included Anglo-Force, the Warriors, Tiger, and the god, Lug.
    Although the force now numbered near twenty, the recruiting continued. Inspector Solo had reported several sightings of Jet, but the sightings were not consistent.
    The force had now gathered at Pendragon’s mansion, to lay down their plans. It was after a hard day that Magus stood on top of one of the surrounding hills, gazing into the sky. His thoughts were on the impending battle with an unknown adversary. He then noticed something in the sky that looked familiar to him, a streak of yellow shooting across the sky. Soon, the shape of a man could be seen. As the flying man got closer, he recognised him. The man was none other than Jock Muir, in his guise as Stingray. Stingray landed in front of Magus, who could not believe his eyes.
    “Jock!” he smiled, grasping Stingray’s hand. “What on earth are you doing here? Aren’t you getting a bit old for this sort of thing?”
    Stingray removed his mask. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black!” Muir laughed. “Compared to me, you’re ancient!”
    “What are you doing here, Jock?” Magus asked. “What’s wrong?”
    “I just wanted to see if I still had it in me.” Muir replied. “And I have! It never goes away. But this whole situation, and my being in charge of this headquarters building project, brought back a lot of memories, and not all of them good.”
    A grim expression appeared in Muir’s face. Magus placed a hand on his shoulder.
    “I know what you’re talking about, old friend.” said Magus. “I took often think of Russell Nash, our Highlander friend. But there’s a lot to the story I never told the rest of you.”
    “Why not?” asked Muir. “We were like brothers in those days. You, me, Russ, Frank and the Prince. Why did Russell kill someone? Why did he break our most sacred vow?”
    “It is a long story.” said Magus. “For now, though, I will tell you this. If the Highlander had not killed his opponent that night, he would not be alive today!”
    “Alive!” said Muir. “I thought he died over thirty years ago! What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
    “I said before. “ said Magus. “It is a long story, and now is not the time to tell that story. Now I have something to ask you, if you will come inside.”
    So soon, Jock Muir, Stingray, was also a part of the force.

    Vasaria, the late nineteenth century. A strange creature stalked the forest, for he was neither man, nor breast. He was werewolf.
    It was a full moon on this night, and the werewolf had just taken another life. Soon, the moon began to disappear, as the sun began to rise. Slowly, the transformation began again. Slowly, the werewolf began to change back into a man, a man called Lawrence Talbot.
    Talbot looked up into the sky. A look of utter fear was on his face. He knew that while he was in the form of a werewolf, he had killed. He was filled with guilt. If he could have, he would have killed himself. But he knew he could not.
    He began to wander through the forest, in search of a place to hide. He knew that the mutilated body of his victim would soon be found.
    As he ran through the forest, he saw a woman in the distance. Had she seen him commit murder? Perhaps, perhaps not. As Talbot stood there looking at her, she walked over to him. Talbot was struck dumb by the woman’s beauty. As she got nearer to him, she spoke.
    “Lawrence Talbot?” she asked.
    “How did you know my name?” he asked.
    “I know many things.” the woman said. “I know your name, your date and place of birth, and I know that you see a cure to your curse.”
    “How do you know of my curse?” Talbot asked. “I’m the only one that knows.”
    The woman placed her hand on Talbot’s head. “I am all knowing, all seeing!” she said. “I can cure you of your curse, Lawrence, if you will come with me!”
    “Can you sure me?” asked Talbot.
    “I can do anything I wish!” the woman replied.
    The strange woman raised her hand, and a portal opened.
    “Come with me, Lawrence Talbot.” she said. “Through the portal lies an answer to your nightmare. Through the portal lies the end of your curse!”
    The woman led Talbot to the portal’s entrance.
    “Wait!” said Talbot. “You haven’t told me your name!”
    “You wish to know my name, Lawrence? My name is Morgana Le Fey!”

    Latvia, one hundred years later. A convoy of cars headed towards the Latvia/Sylvania border. No one had been on this road for many years and it had fallen into disrepair. This was the only road out of Sylvania.
    Soon, the convoy reached the Sylvanian border. The road was blocked with trees and various other things. Then, from out of the front car, a woman got out. She was clad entirely in black, with a black shroud covering her face. She looked at the roadblock, as if she was waiting for someone.
    “Saruman!” she cried.
    An astral image of Saruman’s face appeared in the sky above them.
    “Mother Nature!” he boomed. “So you have arrived.”
    “Why this blockade?” shouted Mother Nature.
    “It is to stop unwanted visitors.” Saruman replied. “Are all of your comrades with you? Theophilus, Celsius and the others?”
    “The entire Black Squadron are here!” Mother Nature replied.
    “Excellent!” said Saruman. “Then you may enter my country. Follow the road and you will soon be in my castle.”
    Then, without warning, the road blockade vanished. The convoy continued on it’s way. The road on the Sylvanian side of the border was in perfect condition. As soon as the convoy was on Sylvanian land, the blockade re-appeared, looking as if nothing had happened.
    Within an hour, the Black Squadron found themselves within the dark, foreboding hills of Castle Oklev, the castle that Saruman had made his own. The landscape around the castle looked like it belonged in a Tolkien novel. As the convoy approached the castle, the drawbridge opened. Inside, they saw a party of orcs, seated around a large fire, cooking some large, wild beast that they had captured and killed. They stopped in the main castle courtyard. Mother Nature got out of the lead car. As she looked around, she could not believe her eyes. There were many creatures she had thought only mythical all around the courtyard, such as orcs, trolls and dundelings. One orc came up to her. The orc grunted at Mother Nature, and motioned toward a large door. Mother Nature signalled to her co-cohorts to stay outside.
    The orc lead Mother Nature through a long, dark corridor, into a large room. Paintings and tapestries lined the walls. A large table was in the centre of the room. A large banquet had been catered for. Around the table sat the Voltanian, Panther, the Russian, Captain Shield, and his number two, Death Angel, of the Nightmares. Opposite them sat Morgana Le Fey. At the head of the table sat the owner of the castle, Saruman the White.
    “Greetings to you, Mother Nature!” he said. “Come, join us. Eat!”
    Mother Nature sat at the table. “What’s with all those monsters outside?” she asked. “When we made our deal, you said nothing about monsters!”
    “Orcs are not monsters.” Saruman replied. “Orcs have served me for many years. They are loyal subjects!”
    “And besides.” said Panther. “Some of our other allies could be termed as monsters!”
    Then, the huge door swung open, and in walked a caped figure, Count Dracula.
    “It can’t be!” gasped Mother Nature.
    “It is!” said Dracula. “We all share a common enemy!”
    “And if you wish to collect the large amount of money you were promised,” said Saruman, “you will do as I say!”

    The gathering of forces continued in Britain. Jet had again been spotted over London.
    He was flying high over north London. He had known nothing of what had been going on. As he flew through the air, a gust of wind blew past him. For a few seconds he was confused. Then he remembered. Only one man could fly faster than him. He noticed that a man had stopped ahead of him. He recognised him instantly as the Captain, James Watt.
    “Hello, Clarkie!” said Watt.
    “Jim!” said Jet. “What are you doing here?”
    “Do you remember that promise you made?” asked Watt. “We need that help, now.”
    “So what’s the problem?” asked Jet.
    “I’ll race you back to the Surrey countryside.” Watt replied. “I’ll explain there!”

    Magus sat deep in the vaults below Craigmillar. Soon, he found what he was looking for. He left the vaults and returned to his study room. Soon, he teleported back to Surrey. As he entered the mansion, Mr. X greeted him.
    “What possible use can that be?” he asked. “A piece of old metal like that!”
    Magus smiled. He placed his hand over the lamp. Purple vapour began to billow out. Then, as the smoke cleared, a djinn, golden skinned and clad in clothes of ancient Persia stood before them.
    “Who summons Johangas Khan, the genie of the lamp?”
    “It is I, Magus. Your help is needed.”
    The genie bowed. “It shall be yours.”
    Magus smiled. Then he gestured to Mr. X. “Obey this man.” he said.
    As they stood, Stingray entered.
    “Khan! I haven’t seen you in years!”
    Khan bowed. “O Stingray, the years have been kind to you!”
    Magus drew Stingray to one side. “Tell me Jock, have you seen Frank recently?”
    Muir shook his head. “Not for a good few years now. Not since the seventies, when he went to study the giant apes on Skull Island!”
    “Then I must go there!”
    Granamyr appeared in the sky. Magus flew up to join him.
    The journey to Skull Island, in the South Seas, did not take long. The jet had not yet been invented that can match a speed with a dragon. Magus landed along and headed for the village which, over sixty years before, had been terrified by Kong. As he entered the village a familiar figure greeted him, the brown hair now flecked with grey, but even at the age of eighty there was no mistaking Dr. Francis Burns, the Beastmaster. In his heyday all creatures obeyed him. He hurried over to Magus.
    “Phineas, I was expecting you. Hurry!”
    They made their way to the edge of the village, and gazed out into the jungle.
    “What do you sea?” asked Burns.
    “The wall is gone?” replied Magus.
    Burns nodded. “The villagers say there was never a wall. They don’t know about King anymore. There are no giant apes on Skull Island!”
    “I have a feeling, Frank, that I know where King is. Come with me, we may need your help.”
    They returned to the beach were Granamyr was waiting.
    “It’s like old times.” said Burns. “Off on a mission!”
    “More than you think.” said Magus. “Muir is with us too. But we can find no sign of Nash or Poseidon.

    Saruman stood in Sylvania, preparing to send out his portal once more, this the portal was expected. On the planet Skaro, a Dalek spaceship, commanded by their leader Davros, passed through. It landed outside his castle. As they left, Saruman greeted them warmly.
    “Soon, we will be ready!”

    Back at Pendragon’s mansion, Magus had called a meeting of the assembled forces.
    “I have studied why the balance of forces is so critical at this time. It seems that were are approaching a join in the time line. Should this join be fractured or altered in any way then not only will the future be altered but also history itself. This is what I believe our enemy is seeking to do. I have contacted the Time Lords of Gallifrey, they are sending aid.”
    “So what do we do?” asked Woodwose. “Wait?”
    “We can do no more.” replied Magus. “All scans into Sylvania have been repulsed. I do not believe we will have long to wait.”

    A day later, Frank Burns walked through London. As he stopped at a newsagent, and brought a paper. As he left the newsagent, he took a look at the front page. The main story was about the first manned space flight to Jupiter, and the shuttle craft under the command of Colonel Winthorn. As he read the headline, he could not believe his eyes. The words in front of him began to change. The headline did not say anything about a successful launch of a manned space craft, but of a space craft’s destruction on the launch pad. It also made no mention of a Colonel Parker Winthorn. Burns knew that he had to get back to the mansion as soon as possible.
    As he made his way back in his rented car, he noticed that a crowd had gathered, and they were looking into the sky. Burns looked, and he could not believe his eyes. Flying through the sky was a United States Airforce bi-plane, the likes of which had not been seen since the early 1930’s. The aircraft was in some difficulty, and began to nose dive toward the busy London streets. The gathering crowd began to panic. The plane plunged into the streets, and caught alight. As the crowd looked on in horror, Burns rushed over to the wreck. He saw that the pilot had been thrown clear, and went to him. Burns removed the pilot’s leather flying helmet. The pilot gazed up at him.
    “Hey fella!” he said. “Guess I got that big, hairy monkey, eh?”
    The pilot coughed violently, and then died. Burns then noticed the name on  the pilot’s uniform - Captain Winthorn.
    Burns moved to one side as the emergency services arrived, then, as a sparrow perched on his finger, a message passed. The bird flew away.
    The message soon delivered, Magus arrived at the morgue to which they had taken the body. He was met by Burns and Chief Inspector Jeavons. Grimly they strode into the building. Magus marched up to reception.
    “Where is the body which was just brought it?”
    Soon they were standing in the mortuary itself. The body of the pilot lay in front of them.
    “What are you going to do, Magus?” asked Jeavons. “Bring him back to life?”
    “No.” replied Magus. “I could only do that using voodoo. We already know that Winthorn  is out of his own time. We also know that a Colonel Winthorn should have been on that recent space mission but was not. I would assume that Colonel Winthorn is, or was a direct descendant of Captain Winthorn. Without the one, the other cannot exist.”
    “He mentioned a monkey.” said Burns. “It could tie in with what happened on Skull Island.”
    “There is one way to find out.” said Magus. “I will scan his memories.”
    For a brief moment Magus’ hands hovered above Winthorn’s brow. A smile played upon his face.
    “Our enemy has made a mistake!” he smiled. “One of his allies is Kong! We know where to begin!”