Post by redsycorax on Nov 11, 2021 23:03:21 GMT
Scott Mason, the Justice Guild member known as Green Guardsman, had a lively superheroic career of his own. And one of those exploits involved meeting a certain elite British secret agent...
++
JAMAICA:
As the reverberations of the gunshot died down, the spectacle was grim. John Strangepath, the British consul in Jamaica, and his secretary Nathalie, lay in a tangled heap over a particularly ominous stapled series of pages. They related to thefts of rocket fuel from Cape Canaveral. At the time, Strangepath had also been the MI5 station chief in Kingston, so the deaths did not go undetected for long, particularly as Jamaica was preparing for independence later that year and the Crown wanted none of the 'subversion' that they thought possible from adjacent newly communist Cuba. However, with growing cultural and political contact between Russia and Cuba, the Mercury rocket fuel thefts could also be interpreted another way. For, as the United States would discover in August 1962, covert Soviet ICBM silos and missiles were being constructed there, in retaliation for 'provocative' NATO Jupiter missile installation in Turkey.
LONDON:
M, the secretive section head of MI5 knew that there was probably only one agent that would be suitable for this task. He imagined the bon vivant in question would want to prove himself further afield and given the metaphorical baggage that he was carrying, courtesy of the Maclean, Philby, Burgess and Vassall cases in the fifties, he couldn't actually blame him. However, despite that quirk in his character, nevertheless Harry Chance was a highly effective, professional and competent agent and core MI5 asset. Loyal to his agents in the field, M wasn't about to succumb to vulgar prejudice and allow it to lose him one of his most disciplined, professional men. Quite apart from which, he'd saved the Queen from that bomb in the royal coach during Trooping the Colour last year and had been granted particular leeway because of it. Yes, 009 deserved this break.
SEABOARD CITY:
Green Guardsman stood before the Justice Guild televisor as President Kennedy's image flickered on the private telecommunications link:
"So there are no other Justice Guild members available, Green Guardsman?"
'Catman and Black Siren are busy tracking a South American heroin trafficking ring down in Mexico, Mr. President. Tom Turbine is dealing with a situation on an ocean liner off the Atlantic coast and Cassandra and the Streak are involved in cracking a counterfeiting ring in Marvel City over in Kansas. So, yes, I'm afraid I'm the only one who's on call at the moment."
President Kennedy nodded: "That will still do nicely, Green Guardsman. You're a loyal, patriotic American and I know you're as concerned about what's happening in Cuba as anyone else. The British have told us that they suspect that there's a rocket fuel smuggling ring that ranges from Cape Canaveral down in Florida to Kingston, Jamaica and then southwest to Cuba. For what reason we don't yet know, but they're sending one of their best agents down there. And we need to liaise with them and get to the bottom of this."
"Sorry, Mr President, but why me? Why not a CIA agent instead?"
"Because, Green Guardsman, we need that super-science ring of yours in case we get into any trouble down there. And your professional combat skills."
"In that case, you can count on me, sir." Green Guardsman saluted.
WASHINGTON DC:
As John Kennedy got off the secure telecommunication link, his brother and Attorney-General, Robert, stood next to him:
"Was that the right thing, Rob?"
"Look, we know the Guardsman is really Scott Mason and that Scott Mason is a secret homosexual, sure. But except in J.Edgar Hoover's somewhat hypocritical, paranoid world, that doesn't make him a security risk. He served his country in South Korea as a Marine and he volunteered for mystery man duty when that Justice Guild crowd of his formed. He's staunchly anti-communist. He's a good field asset."
President Kennedy sighed: "I didn't mean that. In any case, the Republicans won't raise an eyebrow at this. Granted, Lyndon has his own issues with Walt Jenkins' night owl assignations, but they're similarly compromised when it comes to Art Vandenburg during the Eisenhower days. They wouldn't dare. And anyway, the Brits are right with that Wolfenden Report of theirs. What two consenting adults choose to do in the privacy of their own home shouldn't be against the law."
Robert Kennedy smiled wryly at this, given that he knew quite well about his brother's adulterous relationship with the actress Marilyn Monroe and numerous other women. At times, he almost felt sorry for Jackie, but the First Lady was too enamoured of the influence and prestige of her current role to surrender it- and in any case, the Catholic Church was against divorce even if she did know about it.
KINGSTON:
In a light jacket and tieless shirt, Harry Chance finally cleared customs and was relieved to witness a chauffeur awaiting him. He gratefully smiled and slid into the back seat of the air-conditioned vehicle. But as the chauffeur accelerated down the main road toward the luxury hotel where he was about to stay, Chance became suspicious of the other man's body language. He kept glancing off to the side as if awaiting a signal, leading Chance to finger the Luger in his jacket pocket. It was as if he were awaiting a signal, Chance thought and then spotted one, from a marina quayside boat with opaque windows and Miami registered as its port of origin on its side. Suddenly, the limousine increased its speed, turned down a concealed back road and slammed Chance back in his seat. As the limousine screeched to a halt, the chauffeur reached back to try to jerk the Luger out of Chance's hand, but the agent was too quick for him, blocking him with a punch to the jaw. However, the chauffeur recovered quickly, snarled at Chance and kicked open his door, trying to get Chance out into the open. Chance parried with a side kick to his assailant's midriff, as the moment of truth arrived and the would-be assassin produced his own gun. At which point, a green luminiscent rope appeared from nowhere and jerked the assailant's hands upward, leaving Chance a good opportunity to deliver a knockout blow.
As Chance looked up, the American mystery man Green Guardsman drifted down from the sky and alighted next to him:
"Agent Chance? I'm the Green Guardsman."
"Thank you for your intervention there, chum. Most grateful. Does that ring of yours enable you to read minds?"
"Stop him!" Green Guardsman spotted the assailant biting down on a cyanide capsule secreted in his mouth.
Chance cursed: "Damn it! We'll never learn why he was sent to target me. Although from what I observed a few minutes ago, it has something to do with one of the boats in the marina."
Green Guardsman nodded: "Lead the way."
Chance loaded his pistol: "Odd that there weren't reinforcements for that fellow. Still, you can never be too careful."
However, their luck held. For one thing, Jamaica was still a British colony, despite its independence looming later that year and because of that, MI5 had ample other agents in the field to insure that the forthcoming advent of sovereign democratic government would go smoothly. As they warily stepped down the pier, Chance noted the other man's back and legs. Nice, he thought to himself, but all play and no work makes Harold a bad agent. In any case, that fellow is probably as straight as a die.
"You're not who I expected." Chance observed as the pair closed on the boat.
"Unfortunately, we're having problems back home, or so our President said. He asked for me personally."
Chance nodded: "I'm not complaining. At least you're a professional, judging from the way you disarmed that chap."
"I just didn't think he'd kill himself to avoid interrogation."
"Unfortunately, that isn't unusual in my line of work. Are they waiting for us?"
Green Guardsman scanned the hull: "Nope. There's no-one at home, but there is jamming equipment. Which makes sense, given that the CIA reported our NASA launch vehicles were being targeted that way, along with the theft of rocket fuel."
"Are there any explosives in the vicinity?"
"Not that I can see. Hope that apparatus can't operate underwater..." The power ring slashed a subsurface hole in the vessel, which began to fill with water and list to the right. As the jamming device sputtered and short-circuited, Green Guardsman cut another hole in the rapidly sinking vessel and extracted it.
Chance felt uneasy: "Why are there no enemy agents here on the ground apart from the cadaver back there, Guardsman? And why didn't they protect a primary field asset like this? It doesn't make sense."
"Look, I'm sorry, mister. I didn't get your name before...?"
"Chance. Harold Chance. Agent OO9 of Her Majesty's Secret Service, MI5."
"And you know who I am."
Chance nodded: "Let's get over to the hotel. I'm soaked with sweat and I need a good wash and shave."
Green Guardsman nodded: "I'll scan the hotel for suspicious signs while you're getting changed..."
As he soared away, Chance sighed to himself. Did that man never get out of his uniform? More to the point, could he get that man out of his uniform?
SCORPION KEY:
"We have trouble. Derwent was exposed and then forced to suicide when he carried out his assignment to kill the agent Harold Chance."
"Damn it, it would have to be him. I think we should prepare a little surprise for that gentleman when he least expects it, don't you?"
"Leave it to me, Doctor Song." Xhi Song was not happy with this turn of events. He knew that the KGB had been negligent here when it came to its sparse presence, given that they were concentrating their attention on their new installation and outpost in Cuba, perhaps logically enough. However, even with the jamming device out of commission, he could still salvage something from this situation. Opening a manila folder, he turned to a photograph and description of the Green Guardsman...
KINGSTON:
"Look out!" As a tarantula scooted perilously near to Harry Chance's supine, bedbound form, a green jar descended on it, then compressed, squashing the hapless arachnid. Harry Chance sat up:
"Thank you, Guardsman. Once again, your vigilance has saved my life." As he raised his torso, an embarrassed Green Guardsman looked away.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I'll..."
Chance raised a hand: "Wait a minute. Guardsman, are you attracted to men?"
The Guardsman gasped: "N-no. Whatever gave you that idea-"
"The way you're not looking at me, now. The rather attractive flustered response. Guardsman? It's all right. So am I. More specifically in this situation, to you."
"I...I...try to keep it a secret. If the wrong people knew, they'd use it to discredit me and attack my Guild companions."
"One other question, Guardsman. What's your real name? And do you ever lose that hero outfit?"
"Scott. Scott Mason" And in response, Scott Mason appeared in a t-shirt and shorts.
"And do you find me attractive, Scotty?"
"Hell, yeah."
"Then get over here and we can find out what else we have in common..."
SCORPION BAY:
"Over there..." Scott Mason steered the rudder toward their quarry.
"Could you do a scan of the area for me again?"
"It's over there. Figures. This is an out of the way area of the Jamaican coastline and adjacent to Cuba. Is there any reason why there are Cantonese books in their headquarters?"
Inside Chance's mind, something clicked: "Of course. Doctor Xhi Song, renegade Chinese scientist and Tong member. The Chinese Communists were after him due to his involvement with organised crime in Shanghai but he slipped across the border with North Vietnam and got uplifted by the KGB. Beijing apparently isn't very happy with Moscow over that little contretemps."
"One other problem. There's aluminium in the building substructure and my ring is powerless against it."
"Good to know you have some weaknesses apart from me..."
"Do you say that to all the men you meet?"
"No, only the cute susceptible ones. Anyway, back to business..." In camouflague black, the two men slipped ashore:
"What is it?"
"Trouble. It looks like some sort of flamethrower..." Green Guardsman's ring produced a giant sledgehammer and pounded the precaution apart, which alerted the enemy agents on the island. Xhi Song appeared at the entrance to the cabin:
"After them, you fools!"
"You take the henchman, Xhi Song is mine..." Green Guardsman ascended again, fashioning a large barrier which he used to sweep aside some of his assailants, as well as a shield for his companion as he returned fire against an irate Xhi Song, whose firearm skills were nowhere near as proficient as his scientific acumen.
"Curse you, Chance!"
"This is for what you did to Cord in Kuala Lumpur, you evil bastard..." As they ran out of bullets, Xhi Song tackled Chance, hard.
"One of us will not walk away from this."
"You've got that right, Song. Look at the prosthetic arm and shoulder. Radiation poisoning, right? Well, the Russians were never very good with their protective measures. I take it you're dying?"
"You have been begging for this since our first confrontation in Shanghai all those years ago..."
Green Guardsman alighted and prepared to lay waste to the covert operations pier and fuel canisters, although he took note of the requisition and delivery forms he spotted in a guard kiosk near the vessel at the centre of operations. Meanwhile, Song had got in a lucky punch, leaving Chance groggy on the ground as the KGB scientist stabbed a series of buttons:
"I have arranged self-destruct for a mere minute and a half from now. You and your gaudy friend will die here, even if you have interfered in our plans."
But as with so many aspects of the compromised KGB mission in Jamaica, once again Xhi Song was in error. Green Guardman encased himself and Chance in an emerald sphere and took to the skies, accelerating away into the early morning as the fuse reached zero and the enemy base ignited.
Inside the capsule, Harry Chance and Scott Mason kissed again:
"How long until you have to back in Seaboard?"
"Oh, not for another three days until I fly out..."
"Want some more extracurricular activities?"
"Oh, that's what you call it?"
"Amongst other things, Scotty. Shut up and kiss me some more..."
EPILOGUE:
And although the two men kept in touch, they died within hours of one another, albeit thousands of miles apart. Liaising with the CIA as it launched its second invasion of Cuba, Harry Chance was one asset within an array of European and American field operatives as they tried to breach the Soviet ICBM compound within Cuba and destroy it before it could be launched. But things had already gone too far for that, as a panicking Soviet officer launched an ICBM at the oncoming invaders. Within an instant, Harry Chance, MI5 Agent 009 was incinerated with the rest of his companions. But Scott Mason knew nothing about this, preoccupied as he was with law enforcement and ultimately, defending Seaboard City from an incoming Soviet ICBM as it closed in on Ryerson United States Air Force Base. Ironically, both men gave their lives for countries that would have punished them simply for being themselves if their innermost secrets were public knowledge.
THE END
++
JAMAICA:
As the reverberations of the gunshot died down, the spectacle was grim. John Strangepath, the British consul in Jamaica, and his secretary Nathalie, lay in a tangled heap over a particularly ominous stapled series of pages. They related to thefts of rocket fuel from Cape Canaveral. At the time, Strangepath had also been the MI5 station chief in Kingston, so the deaths did not go undetected for long, particularly as Jamaica was preparing for independence later that year and the Crown wanted none of the 'subversion' that they thought possible from adjacent newly communist Cuba. However, with growing cultural and political contact between Russia and Cuba, the Mercury rocket fuel thefts could also be interpreted another way. For, as the United States would discover in August 1962, covert Soviet ICBM silos and missiles were being constructed there, in retaliation for 'provocative' NATO Jupiter missile installation in Turkey.
LONDON:
M, the secretive section head of MI5 knew that there was probably only one agent that would be suitable for this task. He imagined the bon vivant in question would want to prove himself further afield and given the metaphorical baggage that he was carrying, courtesy of the Maclean, Philby, Burgess and Vassall cases in the fifties, he couldn't actually blame him. However, despite that quirk in his character, nevertheless Harry Chance was a highly effective, professional and competent agent and core MI5 asset. Loyal to his agents in the field, M wasn't about to succumb to vulgar prejudice and allow it to lose him one of his most disciplined, professional men. Quite apart from which, he'd saved the Queen from that bomb in the royal coach during Trooping the Colour last year and had been granted particular leeway because of it. Yes, 009 deserved this break.
SEABOARD CITY:
Green Guardsman stood before the Justice Guild televisor as President Kennedy's image flickered on the private telecommunications link:
"So there are no other Justice Guild members available, Green Guardsman?"
'Catman and Black Siren are busy tracking a South American heroin trafficking ring down in Mexico, Mr. President. Tom Turbine is dealing with a situation on an ocean liner off the Atlantic coast and Cassandra and the Streak are involved in cracking a counterfeiting ring in Marvel City over in Kansas. So, yes, I'm afraid I'm the only one who's on call at the moment."
President Kennedy nodded: "That will still do nicely, Green Guardsman. You're a loyal, patriotic American and I know you're as concerned about what's happening in Cuba as anyone else. The British have told us that they suspect that there's a rocket fuel smuggling ring that ranges from Cape Canaveral down in Florida to Kingston, Jamaica and then southwest to Cuba. For what reason we don't yet know, but they're sending one of their best agents down there. And we need to liaise with them and get to the bottom of this."
"Sorry, Mr President, but why me? Why not a CIA agent instead?"
"Because, Green Guardsman, we need that super-science ring of yours in case we get into any trouble down there. And your professional combat skills."
"In that case, you can count on me, sir." Green Guardsman saluted.
WASHINGTON DC:
As John Kennedy got off the secure telecommunication link, his brother and Attorney-General, Robert, stood next to him:
"Was that the right thing, Rob?"
"Look, we know the Guardsman is really Scott Mason and that Scott Mason is a secret homosexual, sure. But except in J.Edgar Hoover's somewhat hypocritical, paranoid world, that doesn't make him a security risk. He served his country in South Korea as a Marine and he volunteered for mystery man duty when that Justice Guild crowd of his formed. He's staunchly anti-communist. He's a good field asset."
President Kennedy sighed: "I didn't mean that. In any case, the Republicans won't raise an eyebrow at this. Granted, Lyndon has his own issues with Walt Jenkins' night owl assignations, but they're similarly compromised when it comes to Art Vandenburg during the Eisenhower days. They wouldn't dare. And anyway, the Brits are right with that Wolfenden Report of theirs. What two consenting adults choose to do in the privacy of their own home shouldn't be against the law."
Robert Kennedy smiled wryly at this, given that he knew quite well about his brother's adulterous relationship with the actress Marilyn Monroe and numerous other women. At times, he almost felt sorry for Jackie, but the First Lady was too enamoured of the influence and prestige of her current role to surrender it- and in any case, the Catholic Church was against divorce even if she did know about it.
KINGSTON:
In a light jacket and tieless shirt, Harry Chance finally cleared customs and was relieved to witness a chauffeur awaiting him. He gratefully smiled and slid into the back seat of the air-conditioned vehicle. But as the chauffeur accelerated down the main road toward the luxury hotel where he was about to stay, Chance became suspicious of the other man's body language. He kept glancing off to the side as if awaiting a signal, leading Chance to finger the Luger in his jacket pocket. It was as if he were awaiting a signal, Chance thought and then spotted one, from a marina quayside boat with opaque windows and Miami registered as its port of origin on its side. Suddenly, the limousine increased its speed, turned down a concealed back road and slammed Chance back in his seat. As the limousine screeched to a halt, the chauffeur reached back to try to jerk the Luger out of Chance's hand, but the agent was too quick for him, blocking him with a punch to the jaw. However, the chauffeur recovered quickly, snarled at Chance and kicked open his door, trying to get Chance out into the open. Chance parried with a side kick to his assailant's midriff, as the moment of truth arrived and the would-be assassin produced his own gun. At which point, a green luminiscent rope appeared from nowhere and jerked the assailant's hands upward, leaving Chance a good opportunity to deliver a knockout blow.
As Chance looked up, the American mystery man Green Guardsman drifted down from the sky and alighted next to him:
"Agent Chance? I'm the Green Guardsman."
"Thank you for your intervention there, chum. Most grateful. Does that ring of yours enable you to read minds?"
"Stop him!" Green Guardsman spotted the assailant biting down on a cyanide capsule secreted in his mouth.
Chance cursed: "Damn it! We'll never learn why he was sent to target me. Although from what I observed a few minutes ago, it has something to do with one of the boats in the marina."
Green Guardsman nodded: "Lead the way."
Chance loaded his pistol: "Odd that there weren't reinforcements for that fellow. Still, you can never be too careful."
However, their luck held. For one thing, Jamaica was still a British colony, despite its independence looming later that year and because of that, MI5 had ample other agents in the field to insure that the forthcoming advent of sovereign democratic government would go smoothly. As they warily stepped down the pier, Chance noted the other man's back and legs. Nice, he thought to himself, but all play and no work makes Harold a bad agent. In any case, that fellow is probably as straight as a die.
"You're not who I expected." Chance observed as the pair closed on the boat.
"Unfortunately, we're having problems back home, or so our President said. He asked for me personally."
Chance nodded: "I'm not complaining. At least you're a professional, judging from the way you disarmed that chap."
"I just didn't think he'd kill himself to avoid interrogation."
"Unfortunately, that isn't unusual in my line of work. Are they waiting for us?"
Green Guardsman scanned the hull: "Nope. There's no-one at home, but there is jamming equipment. Which makes sense, given that the CIA reported our NASA launch vehicles were being targeted that way, along with the theft of rocket fuel."
"Are there any explosives in the vicinity?"
"Not that I can see. Hope that apparatus can't operate underwater..." The power ring slashed a subsurface hole in the vessel, which began to fill with water and list to the right. As the jamming device sputtered and short-circuited, Green Guardsman cut another hole in the rapidly sinking vessel and extracted it.
Chance felt uneasy: "Why are there no enemy agents here on the ground apart from the cadaver back there, Guardsman? And why didn't they protect a primary field asset like this? It doesn't make sense."
"Look, I'm sorry, mister. I didn't get your name before...?"
"Chance. Harold Chance. Agent OO9 of Her Majesty's Secret Service, MI5."
"And you know who I am."
Chance nodded: "Let's get over to the hotel. I'm soaked with sweat and I need a good wash and shave."
Green Guardsman nodded: "I'll scan the hotel for suspicious signs while you're getting changed..."
As he soared away, Chance sighed to himself. Did that man never get out of his uniform? More to the point, could he get that man out of his uniform?
SCORPION KEY:
"We have trouble. Derwent was exposed and then forced to suicide when he carried out his assignment to kill the agent Harold Chance."
"Damn it, it would have to be him. I think we should prepare a little surprise for that gentleman when he least expects it, don't you?"
"Leave it to me, Doctor Song." Xhi Song was not happy with this turn of events. He knew that the KGB had been negligent here when it came to its sparse presence, given that they were concentrating their attention on their new installation and outpost in Cuba, perhaps logically enough. However, even with the jamming device out of commission, he could still salvage something from this situation. Opening a manila folder, he turned to a photograph and description of the Green Guardsman...
KINGSTON:
"Look out!" As a tarantula scooted perilously near to Harry Chance's supine, bedbound form, a green jar descended on it, then compressed, squashing the hapless arachnid. Harry Chance sat up:
"Thank you, Guardsman. Once again, your vigilance has saved my life." As he raised his torso, an embarrassed Green Guardsman looked away.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I'll..."
Chance raised a hand: "Wait a minute. Guardsman, are you attracted to men?"
The Guardsman gasped: "N-no. Whatever gave you that idea-"
"The way you're not looking at me, now. The rather attractive flustered response. Guardsman? It's all right. So am I. More specifically in this situation, to you."
"I...I...try to keep it a secret. If the wrong people knew, they'd use it to discredit me and attack my Guild companions."
"One other question, Guardsman. What's your real name? And do you ever lose that hero outfit?"
"Scott. Scott Mason" And in response, Scott Mason appeared in a t-shirt and shorts.
"And do you find me attractive, Scotty?"
"Hell, yeah."
"Then get over here and we can find out what else we have in common..."
SCORPION BAY:
"Over there..." Scott Mason steered the rudder toward their quarry.
"Could you do a scan of the area for me again?"
"It's over there. Figures. This is an out of the way area of the Jamaican coastline and adjacent to Cuba. Is there any reason why there are Cantonese books in their headquarters?"
Inside Chance's mind, something clicked: "Of course. Doctor Xhi Song, renegade Chinese scientist and Tong member. The Chinese Communists were after him due to his involvement with organised crime in Shanghai but he slipped across the border with North Vietnam and got uplifted by the KGB. Beijing apparently isn't very happy with Moscow over that little contretemps."
"One other problem. There's aluminium in the building substructure and my ring is powerless against it."
"Good to know you have some weaknesses apart from me..."
"Do you say that to all the men you meet?"
"No, only the cute susceptible ones. Anyway, back to business..." In camouflague black, the two men slipped ashore:
"What is it?"
"Trouble. It looks like some sort of flamethrower..." Green Guardsman's ring produced a giant sledgehammer and pounded the precaution apart, which alerted the enemy agents on the island. Xhi Song appeared at the entrance to the cabin:
"After them, you fools!"
"You take the henchman, Xhi Song is mine..." Green Guardsman ascended again, fashioning a large barrier which he used to sweep aside some of his assailants, as well as a shield for his companion as he returned fire against an irate Xhi Song, whose firearm skills were nowhere near as proficient as his scientific acumen.
"Curse you, Chance!"
"This is for what you did to Cord in Kuala Lumpur, you evil bastard..." As they ran out of bullets, Xhi Song tackled Chance, hard.
"One of us will not walk away from this."
"You've got that right, Song. Look at the prosthetic arm and shoulder. Radiation poisoning, right? Well, the Russians were never very good with their protective measures. I take it you're dying?"
"You have been begging for this since our first confrontation in Shanghai all those years ago..."
Green Guardsman alighted and prepared to lay waste to the covert operations pier and fuel canisters, although he took note of the requisition and delivery forms he spotted in a guard kiosk near the vessel at the centre of operations. Meanwhile, Song had got in a lucky punch, leaving Chance groggy on the ground as the KGB scientist stabbed a series of buttons:
"I have arranged self-destruct for a mere minute and a half from now. You and your gaudy friend will die here, even if you have interfered in our plans."
But as with so many aspects of the compromised KGB mission in Jamaica, once again Xhi Song was in error. Green Guardman encased himself and Chance in an emerald sphere and took to the skies, accelerating away into the early morning as the fuse reached zero and the enemy base ignited.
Inside the capsule, Harry Chance and Scott Mason kissed again:
"How long until you have to back in Seaboard?"
"Oh, not for another three days until I fly out..."
"Want some more extracurricular activities?"
"Oh, that's what you call it?"
"Amongst other things, Scotty. Shut up and kiss me some more..."
EPILOGUE:
And although the two men kept in touch, they died within hours of one another, albeit thousands of miles apart. Liaising with the CIA as it launched its second invasion of Cuba, Harry Chance was one asset within an array of European and American field operatives as they tried to breach the Soviet ICBM compound within Cuba and destroy it before it could be launched. But things had already gone too far for that, as a panicking Soviet officer launched an ICBM at the oncoming invaders. Within an instant, Harry Chance, MI5 Agent 009 was incinerated with the rest of his companions. But Scott Mason knew nothing about this, preoccupied as he was with law enforcement and ultimately, defending Seaboard City from an incoming Soviet ICBM as it closed in on Ryerson United States Air Force Base. Ironically, both men gave their lives for countries that would have punished them simply for being themselves if their innermost secrets were public knowledge.
THE END
