St Mary the Virgin Church – 2:56pm
Shipton-Under-Whychwood – Oxfordshire
Wednesday 17th June 1953
The sombre group of people watched the coffin of Dr Arthur Lloyd being lowered into the ground. The vicar recited from the bible as the crowd looked on. Dr Lloyd’s wife sobbed, while her two sons did their best to console her. All committee members had attended Dr Lloyd’s funeral.
After the vicar had finished his reading the mourners made their way to the cars. Chambers and Frederick stayed behind.
‘Such a proud man.’ Chambers said. ‘I wish he would have told us earlier perhaps we could have done more.’
‘But there is nothing you could have done.’ A voice said from behind. Both men spun on their heels, Frederick’s heart skipped a beat as he realised who he was looking at.
Janus glanced down at the grave shaking his head. ‘I warned him about his impending doom.’ He said callously before looking back at Frederick. ‘I also warned you Professor about your future.’
The image that Janus had exposed Frederick to several months earlier burned through his mind. Frederick closed his eyes.
‘What do you want?’ Chambers barked.
Janus looked at him smiling. ‘Sir Malcolm Chambers, hero of the Somme, or should I say butcher.’
Chambers stepped back trembling, his legs wanted to buckle but he managed to anchor himself to a grave stone. The surrounding landscape became a swirling mass of colour, turning to a mixture of grey and crimson red of soldier’s blood whose bodies strewed a desolate landscape. Shells exploding all around and the smell of death invaded his nostrils.
The River Somme - Northern France
July 23rd 1916
‘You are the King’s men!’ Captain Chambers shouted. ‘Which means you are fearless men, men with honour and valour in your blood. You will show those Hun bastards that they will not win this war. You will show them that Britannia does indeed rule the waves and you will kick their bloody arses all the way back over the German border.’
His men cheered.
Chambers looked into the eyes of the young men in front of him; he then turned and saw Janus glaring back at him.
‘The guilt overwhelms you to this very day.’
Chambers lost his grip on the grave stone and stumbled sideways.
Frederick rushed to his side. ‘Malcolm what is it?’
Chambers grasped his chest, taking in huge quantities of air. ‘My heart.’ He gasped.
Frederick glared at Janus. ‘I believe my colleague asked you a question, what is it you want?’
‘What I want Professor Frederick is for you to stop meddling in affairs you have no control over.’
‘Forgive me, but if as you say we have no control, then what are you doing here?’
Janus glared back. ‘If you think joining up with the Americans is going to make a difference then you’re very much mistaken.’
Frederick thought about the last few weeks, all that the Americans had shown him particularly the Roswell device. He smiled at Janus. ‘I think Janus, it is you who should stop meddling in our affairs.’
Janus said nothing and turned walking away. ‘Remember what I have shown you Professor.’
The image of Elizabeth’s limp body stabbed at Frederick’s mind, he shut his eyes conjuring up the image of a brick wall. When he opened them again Janus was gone.
Chapter 67
The Offensive
Whitehall – London – 9:56am
Friday 19th June 1953
‘How is he?’ Ian Morgan asked as Frederick entered the room.
‘He’s resting for now.’ Frederick answered. ‘Janus took a heavy toll on his heart.’ He paused and looked at the other committee members. ‘It seems gentlemen that we may have this Janus fellow on the back heel. Our encounter with him the other day proves this and now we must take advantage.’ He then looked at Professor Wilks. ‘How many locations did you manage to get from that Device Mr Bush showed us.’
‘Around eight hundred and fifty different locations up and down the country. Although I am unable to determine why some of the markers were flashing red and why others were just a stable green colour. If the Americans had left the device for us to study then I might have been able to come to a conclusion on the information the device displayed. I’m also convinced there could be more people who have had contact with the creatures.’
‘I don’t think the Americans trust us?’ Lord Admiral Berkshire said. ‘This Majestic 12 group that President Truman established has kept secrets from us for years, how do we know they’re not telling us the whole story.’
‘We don’t.’ Morris Stanford replied. ‘But the fact they have now decided to come out and reveal their true nature indicates that they’re as much in the dark on the whole UFO situation as we are. And this Janus fellow ups the whole game. If there are creatures from another world already here then we need to know what their plan is. I say we locate one of these markers and snatch whoever is affected.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ Frederick said. ‘From my experience in Ripley last year and with the two airmen these people have very little idea something has happened to them. You cannot just start abducting people off the streets.’
‘So what do you suggest we do?’ Stanford asked.
‘We need to study these people, and track their movements.’
‘I’m sorry Ralph but there are only ten of us?’ Ian Morgan reminded. ‘We cannot track down all eight hundred individuals and keep an eye on them.’
‘I’m not saying that we keep an eye on everyone, we’ll select them one by one. As much as I hate to admit it but Agent Frank Cones will be our man on this as well as me.’ Frederick explained. ‘We’ll need a few weeks to select our target then we move in.’
Ian Morgan nodded. ‘Make it so.’
Chapter 68
The Mathematician
British Embassy – Vienna – Austria – 8:34am
Tuesday 7th July 1953
‘I wish to seek political asylum.’ The smartly dressed man appealed to the corporal stood outside the sentry box behind the tall iron gates.
The young army officer reached inside the window and telephoned through to the main building. The man looked around nervously as he waited for the soldier to finish on the telephone.
After what seemed like an eternity the soldier replaced the receiver. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a few minutes sir.’
The man looked down the main street nervously. Although it was deserted it didn’t ease his anxiety. He looked back at the soldier taking off his wrist watch, and offering it. ‘Look I have this expensive watch, Swiss high quality, it’s yours yes?’
The soldier shook his head. ‘I’m sorry sir, but I cannot accept anything from you. Embassy officials should be here shortly I suggest you wait patiently.’
The man produced a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He peered through the bars at the main embassy door which opened. He smiled at the sight of the approaching embassy official who was flanked by two other armed soldiers. But his smile soon faded as he glanced back down the street. A jet black Volga car screeched around the corner and sped towards the man.
A figure was leaning out of the back window pointing a gun. Shots rang out as the car raced towards the gates ricocheting off the iron bars narrowly missing the man who crumpled to the floor cowering. He looked franticly around for any cover, but there was none.
On hearing the first shots the soldier at the gate drew his weapon and looked cautiously through the bars at the oncoming vehicle. The other two men were now sprinting towards the gate. More shots rang out, echoing around the street, and then a painful gasp. A bullet had found its mark, tearing through the man’s shin, blood sprayed onto the street. The soldier pushed the butt of his rifle through the bars and returned fire. The front passenger window on the Volga exploded, causing the car to swerve. The driver regained control and sped towards the injured man. The man leaning out
of the back window lined his gun up with the injured man again. The man on the ground clasped his shin and glared on in painful terror as the man leaning out of the car window aimed at his head. A single shot rang out. The man in the car recoiled after being struck in the shoulder. His gun flew out of his hand and clattered onto the road. The iron gates to the embassy swung open. One of the soldiers fired on the car, while the other two helped the injured man. ‘Thank you, thank you.’ He gasped looking back as the Volga roared by before disappearing from sight.
The tall Iron gates clanged shut and the man was helped across the courtyard by the two soldiers. More soldiers appeared and mingled around the main gates. The embassy official approached the injured man, who was clinging onto a leather satchel. ‘My name is Dmitri Kirov, I wish political asylum, and I wish to speak with Professor Ralph Frederick of Cambridge University and The Angel Committee.’
Trinity College – Cambridge – 11:17am
Wednesday 15th July 1953
Frederick looked up as Lord Chambers and Morris Stanford entered his office.
Frederick smiled at his friend. ‘Malcolm, nice to see you up and about again, how are you feeling?’
‘Oh you know me Ralph like a bad penny, always showing up.’
Frederick chuckled. ‘Can I offer you gentlemen some tea?
‘No thank you.’ Stanford shook his head. ‘I’m afraid we’re here on official business.’
After Stanford explained the reason of the visit, Frederick mulled over what they just revealed to him. ‘He asked for me personally?’
Chambers nodded. ‘And he referred to The Angel Committee.’
Frederick shook his head. ‘I have no idea who this Dmitri Kirov is. I have never heard of him. Where is he now?’
‘We’ve managed to sneak him out of the embassy although it took over a week. Soviet agents are swarming on Vienna. If we would have left it any later we would have had to abandon him. The Russians seem unwilling to contact our government. We think this Dmitri Kirov is part of something outside the mainstream.’
‘But how the hell does he know about The Angel Committee?’ Frederick asked.
Stanford shook his head. ‘We’ve no idea, we’ve been careful as to not share any information.’
‘What about the yanks? Now that we’ve teamed up there could be a leak at their end.’
‘It’s a possibility.’ Stanford answered. ‘But I don’t want to rock the boat we need the yanks at the moment. But I suggest we keep this from them for the time being.’
‘How do you know he won’t play us for fools, you know what the Russians are like.’
‘This Dmitri Kirov had information.’ Chambers said ‘Information that is of major interest to the committee. We have him safely tucked away at Bletchley Park, since he asked for you by name it must be you who leads the interrogation, tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Interrogation is a bit strong isn’t it.’
‘We need to cover our backs, you could be right the Soviets could be trying to put one over on us.’
Frederick said nothing he looked out of the window.
Chapter 69
Crash at Tunguska
Bletchley Park – Bedfordshire – 1:09pm
Thursday 16th July 1953
Dmitri Kirov looked up on seeing the door to the interview room open. He immediately stood as the four men and an armed guard walked into the room. The guard took up position by the door while the other four seated themselves opposite Kirov, who had his hand held out to Frederick. ‘Professor Frederick, it’s an honour to meet you, I saw you in Munich four years ago when you accepted your Nobel Prize. I did try talking to you about your theory on antimatter. But you were being practically mobbed by the scientific community.’
Frederick glared at the man refusing to shake his hand.
Kirov withdrew and sat down a little nervous at not being able to break the ice. He winced in pain from his injured leg. ‘I can understand your apprehension Professor, but I can assure you I am here as an ally not a spy.’ The leather satchel which Kirov had with him in Vienna lay on the table.
Ian Morgan was the first to say something. ‘Why don’t you start by telling us why you decided to come out of the cold so to speak?’
‘Believe me I didn’t make this decision on a whim Mr Morgan.’
‘Have we met?’ Morgan asked, puzzled as to how Kirov knew who he was.
Kirov reached forward and released a strap on a pocket on the front of the satchel. He pulled out a pile of photographs and handed them to Morgan. ‘These are photographs taken by Soviet agents who have been assigned to follow you.’
Stanford looked through the photographs, before passing them to Chambers who rifled through them before handing them to Frederick. One of the photos showed all the committee members at the funeral of Dr Lloyd.
‘Are you saying that there are soviet agents operating within the United Kingdom?’ Chambers asked.
‘What I’m saying gentlemen, is that your group is of great interest to the Kremlin especially in your time of need.’
Frederick looked up from the photographs he had been handed. ‘Our time of need?’
Kirov pulled out a folder and then pushed it towards Frederick who eyed it cautiously before reaching forward and opening it.
The folder contained more photographs and a thick pile of documents. Frederick displayed a look of amazement as he looked at the first photo in the pile, causing Kirov to break out into a confident smile. ‘Yes I thought that might get your attention Professor.’
The photograph displayed a group of Russian soldiers in a wooded area stood in a semi circle, all looking down at what appeared to be a body, placed on a white sheet. Frederick immediately noted the corpse was much smaller than a human. He estimated the body to have been about three and a half feet tall. Its arms lay vertical by its side, at the end of which was a hand containing three fingers and what Frederick guessed to be a thumb. The head seemed too large in proportion to the rest of the body, and the creatures eyes were almond shape, black with no pupil. In the chest area an injury was clearly visible. The body was slightly different from the one the Americans had shown the committee. Frederick looked up at Kirov who had a genuine look of disgust on his face. ‘Unfortunately the creature had survived the crash, and was found wandering about in the vicinity of the crash site. One of the soldiers took it on himself to shoot the poor thing. The Kremlin has a standing order, to fire upon any unidentified target which enters its airspace, which was how this object was brought down.’
The next photograph was of an object which was almost the shape of an egg, except for ridges around the base. The object lay inside what appeared to be an impact crater which Frederick guessed was about thirty feet across. An opening in the side of the craft clearly looked like some sort of escape hatch. Frederick then looked at the next photograph which again showed the body with some high ranking Soviet army officers. They were actually looking straight at the camera and smiling as if they were part of some bizarre wild animal safari. The next two photographs displayed the craft being lifted onto the back of a flatbed truck. Frederick turned to the next photograph and spent several seconds staring at it. It showed a desolate landscape of what once looked like a forest. Every tree in the forest had been flattened as if a steam roller had driven up and down. It bared similar resemblance to the photograph the Russian had shown him several weeks earlier at Cambridge.
‘That is Tunguska part of Siberia. The trees had been flattened by a powerful blast.’ Kirov explained.
Frederick nodded. ‘The great Tunguska fireball, it’s long been speculated that an asteroid or a meteor was responsible.’
‘That’s what our scientists theorised, however in 1930 Joseph Stalin had ordered an expedition out to the Tunguska region. There had been rumours coming from the area for years about strange things seen.’
‘And how is it you know this Mr Kirov?’ Chambers asked.
The Russian looked at Chambers. ‘I was part of the e
xpedition team. The project head was a Doctor Marcus Schwimmer.’
‘What persuaded Stalin to mount an expedition?’ Asked Stanford.
‘He was anxious to accelerate Russia’s scientific knowledge. For ten years we studied the area, until the war, and the Germans breaking their non aggression pact. Stalin halted the project until after the war. In 1947 we received information regarding a crash that had occurred in the state of New Mexico.’
Chambers and Frederick threw each other a glance.
‘What kind of crash?’ Frederick asked.
Kirov smiled at Frederick. ‘I know your committee is familiar with the so called Roswell saucer crash.’ Frederick, Morgan, Chambers and Stanford remained silent. ‘The Soviets had a spy within the highest ranks of America’s scientific elite. In 1949 he defected over to us, and managed to bring with him technical data concerning the details of what crashed in the New Mexico desert.’ All four men exchanged glances provoking another smile from Kirov. ‘The Soviet Union is not as backward as you have come to believe, they are well organised with a network which reaches into every area from Scientific to financial institutions.’
Frederick drew breath focusing his attention on Kirov. ‘Your first expedition to Tunguska, did it reveal anything new about the event.’
Kirov nodded. ‘At first we stuck to our hypothesis that an asteroid or meteor had hit the ground. However with the absence of an impact crater the theory started to crumble. On close examination of the soil we found huge amounts of glass fragments on the ground. Whatever it was which exploded in that area gave off an intense burst of heat. Possibly hotter than the bombs that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After three days in the area we noticed the lack of animal life, and radiation levels were higher than natural back ground radiation. Then we started to find other elements which were certainly not part of the landscape.’ Kirov reached into his satchel again and pulled out what looked like a chunk of steel which looked as if it had been smelted. He handed it to Frederick. ‘As you can see it has almost no weight.’ Again he reached into his satchel and pulled out a single photograph handing it to Frederick who studied it.
Codename Angel (The Angel Chronicles Book 1) Page 23