Episode Three - 'Brighton Frock'

"Hi, and you're listening to the Drive Time Sunny Jim show on London's Capital Radio where the fun always begins at five. You were listening to the Dovetail Joints there with their current single 'Love Changes Everyone', which entered the chart this week at number seven. And here's an interesting fact you probably didn't know: lead singer Kristin Cole is allergic to wheat! That's right - apparently her manager has to ensure that all the food backstage is certified wheat free just in case Kristin bites into the wrong bread roll. I guess when you're about to play in front of 50,000 fans you just can't take the risk. Time for a quick jingle."

"You're listening to the Drive Time Sunny Jim Show. Behave!"

"Ha ha! Right, well what have we got coming up for you in the show this evening?

Well, next up, after the ads, is the weekend tongue twister phone-in challenge, sponsored by the good folks at TASTY COLA - the only Cola that tastes the way it should - and I guarantee you that one lucky listener will find himself, or herself - ha ha - we're not biased! - walking away with a holiday for two to the Seychelles, courtesy of TASTY COLA. Great. Our phone lines are open now and you can phone on oh-one-eight-one, five-five-five, double one-double one. And today's qualifying question is: how many actors have played James Bond? It's a bit of a trick question, so time to use your brain on this one I think.

"And coming up right after the break, our triple play Tower of Sound - three tunes from the eighties, nineties and noughties. And the Capital Radio Tower of Sound this evening is - 'Big Mouth Strikes Again' by Smiths, 'Slam-Dam-Dunkin', by the Roaring Boys, and bringing us right up to the present day, 'She Knows I'm Only Me' by Bite. Don't touch that dial!"

Girls, are you tired of waking up to the same old hair, day after day after day? Do you long for the excitement of fresh new hair colour whenever you want, wherever you want, without all the expense and inconvenience of visiting a salon? Perhaps it's time you discovered the range of NEW-U brush in and wash out hair colours from Clairol! Simply squeeze a small amount of NEW-U gel into your hair, comb through once and as if by magic you have a brand new head of hair! NEW-U gel is quick drying, fun to use and available in 99 different shades of subtle colours. But the best thing about NEW-U colour gel? Simply wash your hair once with Clairol Release Formula and your head of hair is back to its original colour. Be a brunette on Monday, a blonde on Tuesday, a redhead on Wednesday, but be beautiful every day, with Clairol's range of NEW-U hair colours. Because you're the woman you want to be.

"I just don't understand it, Dave. How can I get cheaper motor insurance without jeopardizing my current no-claims bonus?"

"It's so easy, Tim. Why don't you try speaking to the people at Friendly Insurance? They've got policies to suit everyone, whether you're a first time car owner or you've been driving as long as I have, and Friendly Insurance promises to deduct the quoted value of your current no-claims bonus from every new policy!"

"Why that's great, Dave - with Friendly Insurance I can get cheaper motor insurance and keep my no claims bonus. I think I'll phone them right away!"

Friendly Insurance - because we're there for you.

.. Sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking
when I said I'd like to smash every tooth
in your head.
Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking
When I said by rights you should be
Bludgeoned in your bed
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt
As the flames rose to her roman nose
And her Walkman started to melt...

Elenor Haines hummed along to the song as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She slid the boots onto her feet and zipped them up to her ankles. At least they fit properly which was something, she supposed. Elenor turned back to face Atom Man.

"I feel ridiculous. What if someone I know sees me like this?" She wore the costume she'd been given; a short black dress made from a soft silk-like material. A mustard yellow vertical stripe ran down from the low neckline to the hem of the skirt. On her feet she wore a pair of matte black leather ankle boots; on her wrists she wore a pair of metal bands, and around her throat she had wound a black ribbon, scarf-like, to disguise the metal device Atom Man had implanted there. "Surely you must realize this isn't at all practical for fighting in?" Elenor pulled her long blonde hair away from her face and tied it back with a second black ribbon.

"Your image is important, Elenor. Being a super hero means more than just simply fighting crime. People need symbols to look up to. We live in a world where people have lost faith in symbols of goodness and purity. I think that when people look at you they will see a return to the virtues and values of a healthy society. Look at yourself in the mirror again. You have what I never had - beauty, poise, and elegance - you stand there like a golden haired amazon. People will look at you and they will love you. I saved many lives in my time, but no one ever idolized me. I was always too plain looking, too short, too awkward to inspire the people as a hero. Despite my good deeds, I am destined to never occupy more than a footnote in history. But you Elenor, you will be different. Just by being seen like that you will capture the hearts of our countrymen. Don't you see? People will aspire to the standards you set. I could have dressed you in more practical clothes, but what then of your myth, your stature, and your beauty? I know what people look for, what they want from their heroes. Men will see you and they will adore you. Women will want to be you. You will become the spirit of Britannia itself. I tell you - when your time comes and you fall in battle, a nation will weep and mourn for months."

Nothing was said for several seconds.

"But, um, it's early November. I'm going to freeze out there."

A Warehouse on the outskirts of Brighton

"So, that was the Triple Stack Power Play. I'm Bob Ferris and you're listening to Rock in the Afternoon on Radio Rock FM, Brighton's favourite radio station. You just heard 'That Friday Feeling' by The Friday Feeling, 'Making Do With Everything' by the Peppermints, and hey, a cover version of 'All Along The Watchtower' by My Favourite Frog - a great rock band in the proper sense of the word. The original song was of course written by Mr Jimi Hendrix wayyy back in the dawn of pop history, and was later covered by Mr Bob Dylan, though the song lost something in the translation. And just before the ad break I played 'Big Mouth Strikes Again' by a band called Smiths. 'Big Mouth Strikes Again' is a song allegedly about talking too much, and talking of talking too much, it's almost time to hand over to my old DJ mate, Bruce Barnes, with the Early Evening Chat Show. What's the subject tonight, Bruce?"

"Bob, you've got it, I've got it, the listeners have got it - in fact everyone has got it. I'm talking of course about skin. We're all covered in it after all. But what if you have the misfortune of being one of the one million people in the UK who has to live with the curse of problem skin? Tonight we'll be talking about skin conditions. If you have a problem with your skin; if you know someone who does; or if perhaps you just want to know more about the poor miserable people who do, phone us now on our free phone number to get through to one of the experts in our studio tonight."

"Great. And that's coming up in five minutes or so. But before I sign off, I've just got time for one more record. It's number one for the seventh week running - you can't go down to the beach without hearing it being played - it's 'I Really, Really Love You (Baby)' by the lovely - grrrrrr -Linda Lee! Have a great evening. Ciao!"

The rain was pounding down hard against the windows. Outside nothing stirred. All the animals were hiding in bushes and trees, waiting for the storm to end. Harry Stone watched the torrential down pour with a growing sense of frustration. They should have gotten out of here today on the hydrofoil, but the captain refused to set sail in this kind of weather. More delays, and every hour lost was an hour in which the police were gradually closing in. The police, or perhaps Bloodhawk. Of all the superheroes in the entire world, Harry knew the most about this one. Johann Carver was not a man to cross lightly. Carver possessed a suit of hi-tech armour outfitted with enough weapon systems to disable a medium size frigate. And now he was here in England.

"What's it going to be, Carver?" thought Harry to himself. "Have you come to arrest the bad man for his crimes, or because he's using your name? What annoys you the most, hmm?" Harry watched a tree in the garden bending against the force of the wind. Rain lashed at the branches, willing the tree to fall, but it stood like a rock, refusing to die.

Harry turned away from the window. A radio in the kitchen was playing some disposable pop song. It was a cheerful summer song that promised golden sands, hot afternoons, and a girl friend who wore pink lipstick just for you. Harry thought of Melanie waiting for him in New York. He hoped he would live to see her again.

Carl walked into the warehouse. "Coffee, Harry? I'm just making some for the men."

"It's about now, Carl, that you ask me again whether I ever think of giving this all up. And then I say yes, every time something goes wrong."

"This is all going to end badly, isn't it?" Carl watched his friend.

Harry smiled, a forlorn resigned smile, but didn't say anything. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small hologram of Melanie and the kids.

"I don't blame you, Harry. I want you to know that. I don't blame you."

Harry nodded - his throat felt dry.

"None of the men do. You saved their lives, remember."

"Carl. whatever happens, whether we get out of England or not, I just want you to know that I couldn't have done any of this without you."

The men stood and watched the rain in silence.

A House in Essex

"Ow! What was that for?" Elenor rubbed the spot on her bottom where Atom Man had injected her.

"I've just injected a tiny tracking device into the fattiest region of your body where it won't do any harm." He replaced the pneumatic needle on a tray. "Should the worst happen, I'll be able to locate and help you."

Elenor continued to rub her ass. "You mean if I try to run away."

"But you're not going to do that, are you?"

"No." Elenor couldn't meet those blood shot eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm scared of you - all right?"

"You mustn't be scared of me, Elenor - you'll be facing far worse than me very soon. Evil often takes a very tangible form. Let me show you some things."

Atom Man picked up a heavy canvas army bag and opened it up on his dining room table.

"This is for you." He handed Elenor a utility belt.

"This is all very Batman, isn't it?" Elenor fastened the belt around her waist and adjusted the drape of her silk dress accordingly. The belt contained eight watertight pouches of varying sizes. "Can I?"

"Of course. I'll explain what everything does."

Elenor opened the first pouch and found a small spray can the size of a large lipstick.

"A synthetic skin spray. There's enough there in the tube to cover an entire leg."

Elenor smiled. "Are you saying I'm going to need that much?"

"No - you'd never survive a wound of that intensity anyway."

Elenor stopped smiling. Next she produced a transparent plastic pouch of gel. "Plastic explosive?"

"No." Atom Man took it from her and slapped it between his hands. The gel turned rock hard instantly. He handed the gel pouch back to her.

"Ouch, that's hot!" Elenor juggled the gel-sac between her palms. "But I don't get it?"

"The gel will keep you warm if you get cold. It's like a miniature hot water bottle. It could save your life."

"Uh huh." The third pouch contained a shock proof mag-lite.

"You'll notice that the mag-lite will clip to either of the steel wrist bands on your costume. You can keep your hands free that way."

Pouch number four contained a supply of plastic restraining bands.

Pouch number five contained a metal cigar shaped object.

"I give up - what's this?" asked Elenor.

"A personal respirator containing a five minute supply of oxygen."

"You've got a thing about gadgets, right?" asked Elenor.

"No. Continue."

Pouch number six contained a steel hypodermic, several needles and three ampoules of morphine. Pouch number seven held a complex looking Swiss army knife. The final pouch held three small flash-bang pellets.

"Don't I get any chocolate? You know - emergency rations, high energy stuff?"

"You can have as much chocolate as you want to carry - it's up to you."

"That was, uh, a joke."

"Now this." Atom Man strapped a black leather sheath around the calf of her left leg. He produced a black metal baton from the army bag. "I think you'll need a weapon to begin with." Atom Man clicked a recessed button and the baton expanded into a three-foot stick. "I considered putting a blade at the end of it, but I don't think it would be good for your image." He folded the stick back down into the original baton and slid it into Elenor's calf sheath.

"And now what I'm most proud of. Those wristbands I made you wear. The bands were invented by a superhero called the Wyvern. They generate a gravity suspension field - not powerful enough to enable you to fly, but powerful enough to enable you to glide to the ground safely should you need to jump from a building. They are activated by slapping the two bands together."

"What happened to the Wyvern then?"

"I killed him two years ago."

"He... was he a bad guy then?"

"Of course. People change, Elenor. The Wyvern was a noble man to begin with, but, well, time changes us all."

"Right." Elenor studied the thick metal bands locked around her wrists. "I can glide to the ground with these?"

"In absolute safety, yes."

"Cool." Elenor looked up. "Is that it then?"

"Yes, you're almost ready." He produced a black leather 'figure of eight' mask and applied some theatrical gum on the underside. Atom Man positioned the mask over Elenor's eyes and pressed it firmly into place. "The mask will peel off slowly without harming your skin when you're ready to take it off."

"This is my disguise, right? So no one knows my secret identity? Is that how it goes?"

"Yes. You're not Elenor Haines anymore - you're Argent... And now we're going to Brighton."

A sofa somewhere in Ladbroke Grove

Kim Newton couldn't stop crying. She knew the policeman didn't know how to deal with this - he was young and inexperienced and he knew nothing about comforting people properly.

"How did it happen?" she sobbed.

"Well, Miss, we're not absolutely sure. There was an accident you see. The doctors are doing all they can for him, but it's unlikely he's going to be able to walk again."

Kim continued to cry.

Brighton

The gun felt heavy and freshly greased in Harry's hand. He slid back the firing mechanism and studied the inner workings of the machine pistol very closely.

"Do you believe in fate, Carl?"

"Do you, Harry." Carl distributed some spare clips of ammunition about his body. He passed over a knife, which Harry slid into a boot sheath.

"I don't know. I remember when I was a kid my father took me to see this weird fortune teller on the seafront of Hove."

"I never knew you lived in England when you were a kid."

"Seven years, Carl. My father was in the UN army. Anyway, like I said, this fortune teller was spooky. He wore this really old suit - the kind you'd see in a western movie where all the men are playing cards, wearing fancy waistcoats and top hats. Anyway, the guy told me I'd outlive my wife."

"So?" Carl slid the safety catch on, on his gun.

"Well, for years after I was really spooked by the whole experience. I always said to myself I'd never get married. Like, I was convinced if I did, something would happen to my wife and, I guess, the clock would start ticking for me. It's stupid, I know, but when I was young I thought maybe I could live forever if I just didn't marry anyone."

"Well you're not married, Harry. So I guess you're going to live through this."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Carl."

"Yeah?"

"I proposed to Melanie last night, on the phone. If I get out of here, we're going to get married in the spring. It's something I want to do."

"Then let's get out of here. I'm ready to kill someone. But, um, why are we tooling up? Are we expecting visitors?"

"He's coming. Something inside of me tells me he's coming. He's like a hurricane."

Outside Brighton

"I can't believe it's raining!" screamed Elenor above the howl of the wind. She had wrapped a big leather coat around her shoulders and was crouched for shelter beneath a broad oak tree. Atom Man on the other hand seemed unmoved by the weather conditions. If he felt the cold he didn't show it. "My hair's wet! I'm wet! I'm cold!" she screamed. Wet strands of hair stuck to her face.

In the distance, beyond the trees, stood a warehouse. Some lights were on, indicating that the warehouse was inhabited. A few cars stood parked on a drive way nearby.

"He's in there," said Atom Man. "I know it."

"We've got to get back in the van - we can't stay out here all night!" Elenor stumbled back toward the transit van, which Atom Man had parked well out of sight of the warehouse complex. "I'll die of pneumonia."

Inside the van Elenor toweled her hair dry and combed it straight. She shivered and fetched the plastic bag of gel from her belt pouch. "Fuck this!" she said as she struck the gel against the inside of the van. Outside, Atom Man remained in place, impervious to the wind and rain, watching with eternal patience for signs of movement. "That fucking super hero is going to get me killed."

Elenor sniffed and wiped her nose. So much for the glamour of being a super hero. To add insult to injury, the transit van was hardly a Batmobile. "I can't believe I'm here, doing this."

The rear doors opened as Atom Man, his costume soaked through, climbed in and sat down beside Elenor.

"Well?" She sniffed again and clutched an old blanket around her shoulders.

"It's time for you to prove yourself, Argent."

"I can't. I don't feel well. I'm scared."

"Everyone is scared to begin with. I was, too." He placed his arm around her shoulder.

"The first time is always the worst."

"They'll kill me!"

"Oh, they'll certainly try. The rest. well, the rest is up to you."

"You really don't care, do you? You'd see me dead, rather than let me walk away from all of this?"

"Hush." Atom Man stroked Elenor's hair. "All this will pass in time. The horror fades, as you become part of the horror. And then it's no longer quite so bad. And then you begin to relish it."

Elenor turned round to face Atom Man. "Oh please, please God, just let me go. I won't tell the police - I swear."

"Remember. do not rely too heavily on your sonic scream. The power requirements mean you can only use it a few times before it has to be recharged. The same applies to the suspensor field. Do you understand?"

Elenor nodded grimly.

"Then fly, sweet bird, and bring me the head of the Jabberwocky."

Inside

Argent winced as the glass pane fell to the cement floor, shattering with what sounded like enough noise to wake the dead. She froze, perched on the windowsill outside, but there was no movement from within. Elenor stifled a sneeze and reached with her arm to where the window lock could be found. Within seconds she had the window open and had lowered herself into the warehouse.

What now? she whispered between gritted teeth. Fumbling in her belt, she withdrew the mag-lite and clipped it to her left bracelet. The thin beam was powerful enough to illuminate anything she pointed it at. Slowly, carefully, she began to explore.

The warehouse contained makeshift tables, chairs and bunk beds. Argent found the remains of cooked meals, bottles of beer, spare bullets, medical supplies and stacks of magazines. In one corner stood a television set and a small hi-fi surrounded by disks. On one of the tables she found a faded photograph of a woman with two children, standing by a beach in early autumn, laughing as the wind rustled her hair.

A light was on behind one of the doors to the left of the building. From beyond the door Elenor could hear voices and some laughter. I could, she thought, surprise them now with one use of my voice. I could, she thought, stop them all at once.

Argent crept quietly toward the door, and placed her hand on the door handle. And then she froze. All it would take was one cry, but. supposing she didn't strike the right pitch. supposing she froze, supposing her voice failed her? They would shoot her dead. One chance was all she would get. Elenor chewed her lower lip in despair. She stared at the door handle and willed herself to turn it, but her hand seemed frozen in time. Please, she thought, just do it.

"...stay here and I'll fetch some more beer," said one of the voices from behind the door.

Argent ran for the shadows. In her haste she knocked over a set of plates in the darkness. "Shit." she hissed, remembering to switch off the mag-lite beam. Her head struck something - a ladder, leading up into the roof space. Argent switched the mag-lite back on and scanned upward. There were girders, big enough to be walkways, criss-crossing the roof of the warehouse, and the ladder climbed all the way to the top. Elenor switched off the mag-lite and hurried up the ladder, reaching the top just as the door opened to spill some light into the far corner of the room.

Harry Stone left the office and stepped inside the warehouse. He rubbed his nose and stretched his arms in a yawn. From her vantage point in the roof Elenor watched him walk by. The door to the office swung shut, plunging the warehouse into darkness again.

Something went 'click' down below and a single light bulb came on. Harry approached one of the tables where he found an unopened crate of beer.

This is it, thought Argent. I have to do this; otherwise I may as well give up now. Come on Elenor, you know some martial arts, you're fit, you can do this. There's only one man - if you can drop him quietly that'll be one less to worry about later. He's only one man. DO IT!

Harry opened one of the bottles of Budvar and took a swig. He noticed the photo of Melanie, which made him smile again. And then he heard the sound. Something had moved inside the warehouse. Harry dropped the bottle instantly, pulled the pistol from his shoulder holster, and whirled round, but there was no one to be seen. The warehouse was dark, poorly lit by the single bulb in the centre of the room. Harry crouched low and tried to let his eyes adjust to the gloom.

Argent held her breath. Shit, shit, shit! Slowly, but slowly, Harry Stone was approaching the area of floor directly below the beam upon which Elenor was crouching.

She waited and waited.

You... have… to… do… this... Elenor could feel her heart pounding. And then she jumped...

...and...
.....wasn't there...
.......something else...
...........she had to do..?

Too late, Elenor remembered. A split second had flashed before her eyes as she hung in free fall. Argent brought her wrist bands together as the cement floor, a mere nine feet in front of her face now, rushed toward her with all the eagerness of a frustrated lover. The bracelets clashed together and suddenly Argent felt gravity change, but just that moment too late. She hit the ground hard, but not quite as hard as she could have done. Elenor twisted round and hit the floor feet first. Harry had heard the sound of the bracelets and had thrown himself urgently to one side. He lay sprawled in some packing crates as Elenor felt her ankle go. Argent lay there stunned. She could see the terrorist pick himself up, reach for his weapon and turn in her direction.

Elenor screamed, but nothing happened - stunned, her pitch was wrong.

She tried again - still nothing.

"Uh huh." Harry grabbed a flashlight and shone it in Elenor's face. "Move and I'll blow your fucking face off." He circled around her. "Shit." Harry gripped his pistol tightly and kept it trained on the young woman, lying on the floor. "That was a pretty nasty fall you took there, love."