Chris Beaker - Cover

Chris Beaker

Copyright© 2011 by Wandering Lanes

Chapter 17: Dance With Me

Marcus Anderson watched as the army lorry arrived in the car park and soldiers got out, he thought for a moment should he tell his workers to fight back? ... No, not just yet and he had a special way to treat these interlopers.

He pressed a button on the intercom, "Andrea, why don't you go for a tea-break, take your time I'm not expecting anyone at the moment." He said which surprised his secretary as she normally had to rush her breaks.

"Thank you Mr. Anderson." She said and got up from her desk to go to the cafeteria.

While she was going down in the lift, five soldiers were making their way up on the stairway to the top floor.

"We're arresting the owner Marcus Anderson and taking him to Headquarters for questioning, so it's a straightforward entry and extraction, no need for weapons but have them ready just in case." The Sergeant in charge told his men.

They all nodded and checked that their arms were in safe mode and then they continued up the stairs.

Back in his office Marcus began setting things up. He opened the door and created his wormhole just in front of it, where it waited like an invisible trap-door spider, he stood with his back to the door looking out of the window.

As the Sergeant and his men came out of the stairwell they made their way to Anderson's office, the secretary wasn't at her desk and the office door was open. Their target, Marcus Anderson, was in full view ... this would be easy.

"Marcus Anderson, we are from Home Security, you are under arrest for terrorism and other acts against the country ... will you come quietly?" The Sergeant said formally.

Anderson turned around to face them, he smiled. "Come in gentlemen, I'm not going to put up a fight." He said with a smile and held out his arms in a 'handcuff me' gesture.

The Sergeant looked at his men, but didn't want to appear hesitant. He said, "Follow me." And then he strode purposely to the doorway.

Marcus watched, smiling, as the Sergeant and his men stepped through the doorway ... and vanished leaving just one soldier who had stopped at the doorway, his mouth wide open. Marcus shook his head and smiled, "And then there was one, what are you going to do now?" He asked.

The private held his rifle pointed towards Marcus, who could see the barrel was shaking in the man's grip. "Come out of that office and you will accompany me to the transport." The man said.

Marcus shook his head, "Oh I don't think I want to do that." He said as he made a motion with his hand. Behind the soldier, the secretary's chair began moving, gathering speed as it hit the legs of the soldier and making the man sit down in the chair as it continued on its course to the doorway.

The soldier screamed as the chair passed the threshold and vanished along with its unwilling passenger.

Marcus gave a laugh as he dissolved the wormhole and then went back to his desk, he picked up a phone. "Security? There's a truck blocking the car park, will you get it removed please?" He said and hung up.

He was back at his desk working when there was a knock on his door; he looked up to see Andrea standing there with a puzzled look on her face, "Yes Andrea? What's up?" he asked.

"Mr Anderson ... my chair is missing. Do you know what happened?" She asked him.

Marcus gave a smile, "Missing? Oh dear. Well I'll tell you what, just ring the stores and get yourself a better one. Obviously the other one wanted to be somewhere else." He said with a laugh.

Andrea just looked confused without recognising the joke, "Thank you Mr. Anderson. I'll do that." She said and returned to her desk.


In the Bath Police Station the Custody Sergeant heard a commotion coming from the cells, a pounding on a metal door, without looking he threw a key to the uniformed military man seated nearby. "That's going to be for you." He said.

The soldier grabbed the key and went towards the noise. "Hey you out there, where are we?" The stern voice was calling and then there was a scream and a crash which sounded like someone landing on a group of men.

On opening the door the liaison officer was surprised to find a soldier, sprawled on an office chair, on top of the other soldiers in the cell. "Attention!" he called out in a stern parade ground voice. The group on the floor gathered themselves and separated into individual people.

"Sergeant, where have you just come from?" The liaison asked.

"Sir, we were apprehending Mr. Anderson, we entered his office and arrived here ... where-ever here is?" He said.

"Well Sergeant, you are in the Bath Police Station. You will accompany me to the transport that is waiting outside and return to H.Q. for debriefing. Is that understood?" The liaison said.

The Sergeant nodded, "Sir, yes sir. Permission to speak sir? How did we get here?" The Sergeant asked.

"That we shall never know, only remember this, if it hadn't been for intervention by the research section, you'd now be lying in a radioactive chamber and breathing your last." The liaison officer said and then did an about turn to march out of the cell area.

It was a bemused group that gathered themselves and did an orderly march through the custody suite, outside the police station into a walled area where a familiar truck was waiting for them, the driver was just as surprised as he quickly pinched out the cigarette he was smoking and climbed into the cab.

The Liaison officer spoke into a control box, the exit gate opened and the truck drove through. He shook his head; this was one detail that he wouldn't miss when it was over.

As the liaison officer walked back into the custody suite a police officer arrived carrying a chair, "What do you think I should do with this?" He asked and was slightly affronted when the liaison officer burst out laughing.


I was in the training room with a group of twenty students – we were going through attack and defence spells - when the nemesis unit in the corner started to flash at me. I pointed to one youth who was more proficient in the exercises and asked him to take over watching the group and to ensure that nobody was injured.

I slowly walked away and went to an empty office, I created a communications screen and the Nemesis unit attached itself to it. Colonel Marlow was slightly taken aback at my robes. "Good grief Major, what are those?" He asked.

I looked down at the heavy duty robe with its scorched marks where fireballs had struck it. "Sorry Colonel, you caught me during a training session." I said and then with a gesture I transformed it into the Major's uniform.

"That's better. Well you were right. Anderson sent the men into the cell, thank you for having transport waiting for them." The Colonel said sounding contrite as he hadn't thought about any backup plan.

"You're welcome Colonel, I didn't want them to have time to think about it or talk out loud." I said.

"I understand that. So what do we do now?" Marlow asked slightly exasperated.

"You've seen that you can't attack him with physical forces, this is a mage war now. My people will have to take over the building and block him from using the place as a weapon. But we'll need a distraction..." I thought for a moment and then recalled something that Beacham had said.

"Colonel, if I remember the report from Beacham wasn't there something about airplanes in his brief for the virus?" I asked.

Marlow pulled out some sheets and began scanning it before looking up, "Yes, he was to try and get the virus into the control computers and cause airplanes to crash." He said.

I nodded, "There's your answer, have an accident at an Airport ... not a real one, try to get an old jet and set light to it on the runway, it will give the rescue people a realistic practice and also make Anderson think that his virus is still around." I said.

Marlow thought for a moment, "But that would cause massive disruptions, the airport would have to be closed and ... we could arrange diversion routes to minimise things, extra buses to transport passengers ... would it give you enough time?"

Now it was my time to think, "We have enough information about Anderson's building to be able to transport there directly. If I have the apprentices on the lower levels stopping people from using the lifts, and the teachers in the upper levels to prevent anyone else from attacking. I'll take care of Anderson myself." I said and so we started to make the plans.


It began with a news item. 'We are getting reports from airlines of some problems with the controls. Currently it's believed to be associated with the use of mobile phones – The airlines are now insisting that all mobile phones and portable computers are switched off until the planes are on the ground.'

Newspaper reports were slanted towards angry customers being told to turn off their phones and iPods when travelling. "How am I supposed to get my work done if I can't contact the office when I'm on the plane?" Was the quote from one businessman.

Later that week the fault was traced to some glitch in the software of the flight computer and it was made known that firms were investigating this in order to sort it out, but some had tried reloading the software to find the same fault was present again.

"We don't think this will cause any problems in the flying of planes, the fault is just a niggle in the system and can be overridden by the pilots."


Anderson hearing the news remembered something in the brief that struck a chord. He picked up Beecham's report on the virus that had been created. ' ... In the event of installation into aircraft the virus is intelligent enough to cause the aircraft to fail on landing, enough to block a runway causing the enemy airport to be out of commission.' Anderson smiled, well it would cause havoc and he could still make an impression.

Picking up a phone he dialled a number to his Airport's security office. "This is Anderson, I want reports on any planes that report a problem with their controls ... I'm worried about terrorists getting a virus onto planes ... No I don't mean Bird Flu, haven't you read the newspapers? Well keep your ears open!" He said.

At Gatwick the phone was placed back on the receiver, "It sounds like the boss is getting anxious." The Home Security officer said to his partner – they had taken over Anderson's office in all locations except the Head Office, as long as the reports continued nobody would take any notice.

The second man nodded, "Fine, let Ops know that all's going to plan." He said returning to his newspaper – it was his turn to be the boss today.


The reports started to increase in the news, more planes reporting problems with the controls, one had a near miss when landing but the pilots were able to keep control – at least that was what was reported. But it included speculation that unless the problem was resolved then things might get worse.

It was the Friday that the news stations started reporting a problem at Gatwick Airport; at first the tone was muted.

'It has been reported that a plane has had difficulties at Gatwick, we'll have more news as it comes in.'

After half-an-hour the news was –

'We can confirm that an aircraft has crash landed at Gatwick Airport, near London. Although reports are sporadic we have no news of any casualties at this time. There is a police road block at the M23 and the A23 accesses and the M25 junction 7 has been closed. Please expect long delays on these routes.'


Marcus smiled at the news; he picked up the phone and called the Airport security office. "This is Marcus Anderson, get me the supervisor!" He said.

"Good Morning Sir, Supervisor speaking." The Home Security officer said into the phone.

"You're fired! I told your people to let me know immediately if you have any reports, now I find out about this plane crash from the television! Is that informing me? Now pick up your cards and leave the building!" Marcus said with a smile – there was nothing better than throwing your weight about to minions.

"Very well sir, goodbye." The man said and hung up ... this wasn't what Marcus had expected, he wanted a response, to hear the man plead for his meaningless job and now he was holding a useless phone.

He gave a snarl and dialled the number again, this time the line was engaged. He gave a snarl and threw the handset down.

"Temper, temper, Marcus!" The voice came from the air; it was a voice that Marcus never expected to hear again.

"Beaker! Where are you?" He demanded looking around.

There was a chuckle, "Don't you know? You sent me there." I said stepping into his room.


The previous week was used up in intense training; we had pictures of Anderson's headquarters from the spy Nemesis units, along with faces and names of those who worked in there – from the computers at the headquarters themselves.

We set up the training area as the ground floor of the building, where there was a security desk in the reception area.

I sent Evelyn in first; she walked into the door with Marmaduke leading the way as she held onto the handle of the harness attached to Marmaduke. She negotiated the door and then waited inside the reception area.

The source of this story is Finestories

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