I'm not sure what caused more surprise-Myra leaving her job or Myra not wanting to go
for a drink after work on Friday. Her parents were pleased, if somewhat surprised at her
promotion to an overseas office. But sure enough, a man and a woman were waiting outside
the office Friday night and trhe woman took both Myra's bag and handbag and placed them in
the car's boot. She motioned Myra to get in the back and sat down with her. She produced a
small pistol and said "Sorry, but we've been told not to take any chances with
you". Myra smiled, pleased that she had a reputation. "That's alright luv"
she replied brightly. The journey commenced in rush hour traffic, A13, M25 and finally M4.
Within an hour, Myra had established a repore with her companions, though the woman still
held the gun on her.
Another hour of so passed and Myra noticed a large red-trimmed sign "RAF BRIZE
NORTON" and soon the car came to a stop at the gate. The driver produced his ID and
the woman, having put away her gun also showed hers. Then the man jerked his thumb at Myra
and gave the sentry a letter. "This serves as her ID-special transport at 21.00
hours. The guard studied the document for a moment and said "Yes sir; we were advised
about this-I just have to confirm it" and dissappeared into the guardhouse. After
making a brief call, he came out. "Very good sir. A security vehicle will lead you to
the aircraft-will you be good enough to just wait there a moment?", gesturing just
beyond the gate. Presently a Land Rover drew up and, flashing it's lights, lead the car to
an aging RAF Transport Command VC10. The woman got out with Myra and handed her bag to a
groundcrewman "Special security clearance" was all she said. She did a quick
search of Myra's handbag and gave it back. She smiled "Good luck", got in the
car and was gone. Myra turned and assended the steps to the plane, it's engines starting
to run up. An RAF flight crew member showed Myra to a seat on the near empty plane. Up
ahead, a curtain was drawn across the aisle, a notice stating "Officers Only".
Beyond that curtain sat a lone civilian woman...
After eating a simple but enjoyable meal, Myra slept a little, but the flight proved to be
an understandably restless time for her. It was still dark when the flight attendant told
her to strap herself in for landing. After touch down the man came back and told Myra to
wait until someone came for her. It was nearly an hour before a young Royal Naval Rating
appeared and asked Myra to follow him. He had already put Myra's luggage in the back of
the RN personnal carrier and motioned Myra to sit beside him. He seemed rather shy and
didn't seem to want to talk.
It was almost light when he pulled into the RN dockyard on the Medditrian Island. He
quickly got out, handed Myra's luggage to another sailor and went back to the van.
"Bye Darlin'" Myra said and the young man looked and managed a shy smile before
driving away. The other sailor motioned towards the gangplank leading to a torpedo boat,
it's engines already burbling. Myra gingerly made her way along and, with the aid of the
officer of the watch, stepped on board. Almost immediately, orders were given, the vessel
slipped it's moorings and began to purposefully cut across the harbour and out into the
open sea.
The officer showed Myra to a small, but quite comfortable cabin. "Sorry about this,
madam. But I'm afraid we will have to ask you to stay in this cabin for the duration of
our voyage. You will find everthing you might need here, and of course you will find the
usual facilities through here." gesturing to a door. "We shall shortly be
serving breakfast in the Ward Room and I'll see to it that you get some. I should imagine
that you could do with some bacon and eggs?" Myra thanked him and he smiled as he
shut and locked the door.
At a steady 27 knots the graceful vessel sliced through the sea, and on the bridge the
middle aged woman in the old Stone-Dri mac seemed to enjoy the experience. Myra's watch
was still on GMT and was showing almost 12 noon when she heard the engines throttle back
and the vessel slow noticeably. She went to the porthole and saw craggy cliffs and jutting
rocks...the Isle of Krios. Presently the vessel entered the habour-Port Krios. It tied up
and after about ten minutes, there was a knock at the door and the sound of a turning key.
The same officer smiled and said "Would you care to follow me?" He had Myra's
bag and she followed him on to the vessel's deck. A couple of ratings held the vessel
tight against the dock as Myra stepped ashore. A large Latin looking man in his late 50's
stepped forward and took the bag from the officer. As he did so,the ratings let go the
ropes, the boat's engines growled and it began to head towards the open sea once more.
"Welcome to Krios" smiled the man with gold teeth flashing.He had a strong,
weather beaten face, with a large, drooping moustache "My name is Andrios, Detective
Inspector" and held out his hand. Myra almost looked behind her, then realised.
"Oh, er hello. You can call me Myra" Andrios was obviously surprised at this
informality, but continued. "Is this all your luggage?" Myra nodded. He put the
bag in the rear of an old, but well cared Land Rover. It was white with Policia on the
doors. A single blue light was placed on the centre of the roof. Krios was bathed in
bright sunshine, but was raked by racing winds. Consequently, warm clothing was a
necessity. Outside the harbour, the sea rough and the departing MTB ploughed through the
heavy seas. "Did you have a pleasant trip?" asked Andrios earnestly. "Not
bad, thanks" came Myra's reply. "I am sure you wish to see your accomadations.
There is a small apartment at the police station. You and your assistant are to be
quartered there.
Presently, they pulled into the courtyard of the police station. "Please" said
Andrios and motioned Myra inside. "I have been informed by London that your fellow
officer will arrive by helicopter within a few days. He took Myra upstairs and unlocked
the door to the flat. Handing her the keys. "There are some items which arrived for
you inside. A number of firearms also arrived and I have placed these in the safe in your
office. Here are the keys", handing these to Myra as well. I am sure you wish to
settle in. I shall be downstairs. When you are ready there are a number of intelligence
issues to discuss." He smiled pleasantly and closed the door.
Myra unzipped her bag and placed the few items of personal clothing in the small wardrobe.
She had also brought numerous guns: 9mm, .22 and silencer, snubnose revolver and her flick
knife, although she didn't really think she'd use them. She had also brought some of her
"working" outfit: boots, gloves, leather jeans etc. etc.
There were two large boxes in the room. One addressed to Myra, the other to a Christina
Santos, whoever she was. Good to her word, the Old Cow had ordered the things Myra had
specified from the Galls Catalogue. Eagerly opening her box, there was a telescopic night
stick, a heavy duty black leather gun belt, American police shirts and a black leather
jacket. Whilst she may supposedly be from Scotland Yard, she was going to look like
something out of NYPD Blue.
Eventually, she went down stairs and Andrios began to appriase Myra of the current
situation regarding SOKFFAL. He showed her maps and photographs and made some suggestions
which he felt may be helpful. Myra warmed to his pleasant personality and old world
manners. Myra formed the opinon that dispite his rather servile manner he was difinetly
London's contact man and made a point of being careful in what she said.
The following morning Myra decided to aquaint herself with her new surroundings. "I
am very sorry, but I have been unable to get the parts needed for our two cars, but there
is the Land Rover. But I was advised that you prefer motorcycles anyway and have prepared
a couple for you and your fellow officer." The Old Cow, Myra thought, trying to save
money again. They made their way out into the courtyard and to what had been a stable. The
two cars, Mkll Cortinas, stood in varied states of disrepair across the yard. Andrios
opened the stable door. Four 1970s Triumphs stood as if to attention.
"These are good machines, Detec-apologies, Seniorita Myra. I mantain them
myself," with obvious pride. " The keys are in the ignition." The bikes had
white fairings, with red and yellow strips. Christ, they weren't even new went they
arrived here thought Myra, since she could see the Metropoltian Police crest under a thin
coat of paint. Some even had their UK registraition plates. One was 'H' reg. Myra heaved
down on the kick start and the bike fired up. Andrios watched with interest.
"OK" shouted the blond policewoman over the roaring bike. "I'll be
back" Andrios watched her cautiously pilot the machine over the cobbles of the
courtyard. As he went to the Land Rover, he quietly said "I do hope so, I do hope
so."
The island of Krios had little to commend it from ascenic point of view. A well made two
land road (a legacy of Britain's World War II presence) ran round the island's shore line,
with numerous tracks, trails and unmade lanes leading into the island's rocky interior.
Apart from the coast road, what made roads there were in the few villages, and the main
community, Port Krios. There was little in the way of grassland, the tough moutain goats
and sheep scratching a bare exsistence from miserable clumps of grass here and there.
Those islanders that did not herd sheep or goats persued an equally hard life fishing the
wild waters that surrounded the defiant rock that was the island. And there was the
pharmacueical factory.
The islanders watched with silent interest as Myra made her unmistakable way around the
coast road, one or two waving as she went past. Andrios had made off the opposite way to
Myra in the Land Rover and eventually saw the "policewoman" approaching. He
waved and they both came to a stop. "So Seniorita Myra, how do you like Krios? Is it
not a fine place?" Myra lit a cigarette, and said "Yeah, it's nice." rather
unconvicingly. "Cold though." "Ah, that is the wind seniorita. Some days,
it does not blow, then the temperature, she climb" As they spoke, Myra noticed a man
on the rocky outcrop above them, and mentioned it to Andrios. "I think it is time go,
let us meet back at Port Krios, yes?" Myra smiled and then went, completing her
circuit of the island.
Myra had time to study what was her office. A large ceiling fan was centrally placed, but
with today's wind, it's services were not needed. An old, but solid desk occupied the rear
of the room with various filing cabinets.But perhaps what caught Myra's eye the most was a
full length mirror. In bold, hand painted lettering, it said at the top WATCH and at the
bottom YOURSELF. As Myra gazed at the mirror Andrios knocked and came in. "Ah
Seniorita Myra, I see you admiring the mirror. It has an interesting story attached to it.
Do you wish to hear?" Myra really didn't, but somehow didn't like to say no to this
kind man. "Your countrymen brought here in the World War Two. It was at the
guardhouse and the soilders they look at themselves before duty. When the army they left,
I took it for us" "Us" Myra though, I've only been here five minutes.
"Seniorita, I have been told your friend, she arrives tonight. I will make the
necessary arrangements. "My friend" Myra thought, "My friend Christina.
Mmmm"
It was growing dark when the unmistakable sound of a large military helicopter began to
fill Myra's ears. She went to the window and saw it's dark threatening shape. It hovered
for a moment, like some gaint bird of prey and then landed. The door slid back and a
crewman assisted a woman from the craft. Myra noticed Andrios step forward and with his
usual politness, take the passenger's bag and escort to the Land Rover. The helicopter was
already in the air before the Land Rover moved and soon it was out over the sea, chasing
the setting sun.
Within five minutes, Andrios and Christina had arrived. "Ahh" exclaimed Andrios.
"Christina, allow me to introduce Chief Inspector Myra..." he paused slightly
and then said with suitable drama "Of Scotland Yard".Myra smiled and extended
her hand. Christina paused a moment and shook hands. "Please, this is Christina"
smiled Andrios. "And now I will let you ladies become aqquitanted. I will prepare
coffee and light refreshment in an hour's time?" He shut the door.
"Ullo luv, you can call me My. Everyone does. Fag?" The woman looked at Myra, a
doubtful expression on her face, then realised what she meant. Taking a cigarette from
Myra's extended packet, she studied her carefully. Christina was everything Myra was not.
Almost six feet tall, she had long dark hair that almost reached down to her waist. Her
dark Spainish features and flashing eyes were suggestive of a Flamengo Dancer. Her body
was lithe and slender, her hand featured long, elegant fingers. She shook her head and ran
her hand through her hair. As Myra lit her cigarette, she continued. "So did you have
a nice trip? Where you come from? You American?"
The other woman continued to look at Myra. "The trip sucked. Yeah, I'm American. I
don't wanna be here, OK? And I don't like cops. Any cops" "Well" smiled
Myra, "That's a bit awkward luv. Cos you are one, see? As it 'appens, I ain't a
copper either, but they sent me here anyway. What did they tell you?" Christina eyed
Myra "And why should I tell you anything? You just said you ain't no cop."
Myra's face hardened. "I don't know that much meself. But I do know that we are
supposed to work together, that this isn't going to be easy or safe. And that we are in
the same boat. You were sent here and I was sent here. You don't like it and I don't like
it. But I'll tell you this: I need you and you, wheither you like it or not, need me. So
come on, relax and tell me about yourself."Christina, defiant as ever responded by
saying "Suppose you start?"
Alright darlin'" said Mya with with a smile, "That's easy. I'm what you call a
hitwoman. A pro. Been doin' it for about 4 years now. I love my work. Then some spy
network got hold of me and made come out here. That's it" Christina sat open mouthed.
And then she began to laugh. "You? You? You gotta be kiddin'!" Myra's eyes were
ice cold as she snatched the .22 from the rear of her waistband. She leapt at Christina
and rammed the gun into her mouth. Pushing her backwards her chair crashed to the floor
with Myra's knee on her throat. With the gun still in Christina's mouth, Myra spat
"Don't ever, ever fuckin' laugh at me. I've offed people for less. The only reason
that I don't now is because I need you." Myra was shaking with rage. Christina shook
with fear. "Fuckin' nonse. Now behave yourself." Myra took the gun out of
Christina's mouth and eased the pressure on her throat. She was surprised that she was
capable of such a reaction. She was silently pleased. "Now" she said sweetly
"Are we going to be friends?" Between gagging and gharsping for breath,
Christina nodded. Myra helped her up and put her gun back. Myra was shocked at what she
had just done. She had never done anything like that before. Once Christina was sitting
down once more Myra smiled and said "So Teen, tell me all about it"
With defiance still burning in her dark eyes, Christina began. "My brother was
involved with some guys...drugs...he got into some sort of argument. He had a gun-there
was a drive by shooting, he got hit and dropped his gun. While he lay on the sidewalk,
they came back to look. By that time I'd picked up the gun. I shot two of them, one died.
I saw it as self defence-the judge didn't-I got twenty five to life." "Sounds
like you got stiched up, darlin'. Was your brother alright? Did he live?" Myra asked
with genuine concern. "Yeah. He's OK." "So how did you end up here?"
Christina smiled. "Two 'Men in Black" came to see me. Said if I would do this
job I could walk and I'd given a new identity and start overseas. I was sent
to...Ascension Island?...then the Limeys...er, the British picked me up and took me here.
Is this for real? Are we really supposed to be police?" Myra told Christina about the
Old Cow and what she was told. The two women had established some common ground and
Christina realised, like it or not, Myra was just about the only friend she had. Just then
Andrios came in with a tray with coffee and sandwiches. He looked at both women with
smiling eyes. "Ladies" he beamed, "Shall I be mother?"