Pantheon Part 1

Years ago…

The small town of Derby sat amongst the rolling hills southwest of Belfast, overlooking Lough Neagh. It was a relatively typical town, filled with relatively typical people, mostly fisherman or farmers. West of town there was a large forest that ran along the lakeshore.

Danny McCullough crept through the trees, trying to remain as silent as possible. He was a small boy, even for a ten year old, but he was quick. He’d managed to avoid his older brother for the last twenty minutes. Sean was five years older than he was, and more than twice his size. His brother was one of the largest boys in town, which came in handy whenever Danny’s mouth got him into trouble with one of the older boys, which seemed to happen fairly regularly.

In his left hand Danny held his most prized possession…a homemade bow that he had made from a small sapling and some fishing line. Sean had helped him with it, and the bow actually worked, although he didn’t have any arrows. Still, he seldom left home without the bow in hand.

Footsteps crunched in the underbrush behind him, catching him by surprise; the last he had seen of Sean had been much closer to the water. Now, it seemed his brother was coming at him from the other side.

Danny darted to his left, not trying to remain quiet any longer. The footsteps behind him paused for only a second, then increased in noise and frequency as Sean took off after him.

It was only a moment before Sean caught up to him. Once he had been spotted, Danny couldn’t really hope to outrun his brother. As Sean reached out for him, he ducked and then slid behind a large tree, hoping to avoid capture. The trick only worked for a few seconds as Sean dashed right around the tree and scooped Danny up in his big arms.

“I gotcha now, you wee bugger,” Sean cried as he always did. “No escape for you.”

He tickled Danny fiercely, forcing him to drop his bow. “And now you’re defenseless!”

Danny managed to catch a breath and cried, “Mercy!” at the top of his lungs. Sean laughed and released him, dropping him in a heap on the ground. Danny got up, rubbing his bum as he rose, and retrieved his bow. “You didn’t have to drop me, Sean.”

Sean laughed again and tussled his little brother’s hair. “I suppose you’re right, wee bugger…but it sure was a bit of fun!”

Danny drew back the string of his bow and pointed it at his brother. “If I had any arrows, you’d be in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

Sean looked down at him, still smiling. “I’ve no doubt about that. What happened to all the ones I made you last week?”

Danny shrugged. “I used them all yesterday playing ‘Robin Hood’ with Gavin and Michael.”

Sean’s hand locked onto Danny’s shoulder and spun him around to face him. “So, you’ve been playing with Gavin again, have you? What’ve I told you about him?”

Danny shook himself free…or tried to anyway. “Nothing,” he answered, angry at not being able to break free from his brother. “All you’ve told me about is his Da.”

“Then I’ve told you enough,” Sean said as he released him with a shove. “They’re English…you know that.”

Again, Danny shrugged. “Gavin’s my friend…you know that. Besides, he has a bow, too. His Da made it for him. It’s better than mine…his Da’s a soldier and knows what he’s doing. Who else am I supposed to play ‘Robin Hood’ with? You don’t ever want to anymore.”

“I’m too old for that stuff, Danny,” Sean answered. “And besides, Robin Hood was English, too.”

“So?”

Sean looked down at his little brother. “So I don’t like him…I don’t like any of the Brits. You know what they did to Uncle Patrick.”

“Ma says that what happened to Uncle Patrick was his own fault…that he shouldn’t’ve got involved in the Troubles.“ Danny shrugged. “And anyway, Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor. That means he would be on our side if he was here today, right?”

Sean reached out and took Danny’s shoulder again, but this time he pulled his brother in close and tucked his arm around him. “Ah, who knows, Danny?” He looked at the setting sun. “Ma’ll want us home for supper, she will. Want to race?”

Danny smiled as he slipped free of his brother’s arm and took off as fast as his little legs would take him. Sean laughed and allowed his brother a head start before running off toward home. He was impressed by how fast his brother was…Danny’d be faster than him someday, he realized.

He caught up to him at the top of the hill that overlooked Derby. Both of them stopped to catch their breath, smiling at each other.

Danny’s heart was pounding so fast that he could hear it. “I win,” he told his brother breathlessly.

But Sean wasn’t listening to him. He had stood straight up and was looking at the town. His smile was gone and he ran a hand through his unkempt, reddish hair. “What is it, Sean?” Danny asked, turning to look at Derby.

He realized that it wasn’t his heart that had been making the pounding noise…the streets of Derby were in turmoil. Soldiers dressed in tan pants and dark coats were running about the streets. They were firing rifles into the houses. Some were grouped around the door to the church, and were barricading the doors shut from outside.

“It’s the Black and Tans,” Sean said and then took a few steps forward. He turned to face Danny for a moment. “Stay here, Danny! Stay here!” He then ran off at full speed down the hill toward town.

Danny watched as the men took torches and threw them through the church windows. He could hear people screaming and saw an arm reach out through the glass. One of the Black and Tans smashed the arm with the butt of his rifle, then stuck the barrel through the glass and fired several shots.

Sean reached the street below without being seen. He managed to sneak up behind one of the Black and Tans and tackled him to the ground. The soldier, not expecting the attack, tumbled to the street, dropping his rifle. Sean scooped the weapon up and swung it like a club, catching the rising soldier across the face.

Danny ran down the hill. He was so scared, and wanted to help his brother, although he had no idea what help he would be. His mind wasn’t really working at the moment…all he could think of was Sean and the people that were trapped in the church. His Ma and Da were down there somewhere, too. Danny just wanted to go with Sean, find their parents, and run away.

The church was now in flames. The two soldiers that were barricading the doors stepped away, shielding their faces from the heat. Because of this, they didn’t see Sean, who raised the stolen rifle at them.

One of the Black and Tans saw him at the last second and dived for cover behind a farmers cart. The other one jumped as Sean’s shot ricocheted harmlessly off the cobblestones at his feet.

Danny could see more of the street now, and he saw that several more Black and Tans had caught on to what was happening by the church. Four of them raised their rifles at Sean, who was readying another shot at the soldier by the church doors.

“SEAN!” Danny screamed as he ran. His brother’s head snapped in his direction. He opened his mouth to say something…but he never said it. Shots rang out, and Sean fell to the earth in a bloody heap.

Danny screamed again, wordlessly. He ran up to his brother and dropped, skinning his knees on the cobblestones, but he didn’t even notice. He dropped the bow that was in his hand and grabbed at Sean and rolled his brother over.

Sean’s shirt was covered in blood. His blue eyes stared up at Danny sightlessly. “Come on, Sean,” Danny said, tugging at his brother’s shirt. “We’ve got to find Ma and Da! We’ve got to get out of here!”

He stood, still holding his brother’s shirt, and tried to pull Sean along with him. “Get up, Sean,” he said again. “Get up, I can’t carry you. Get up!”

The shirt tore and Danny’s momentum made him fall to the ground. He turned to start helping his brother again, and found two Black and Tans facing him. One of them had his rifle leveled at Danny, the other just looked on, smiling. He reached out the toe of his boot and poked at Sean. “No more worries from this one, eh?” he said.

Danny’s vision blurred with tears. His hands groped along the ground for anything he could use to defend himself. His hand closed around the bow and he raised it.

The soldiers laughed. Black and Tans, they’re called, Danny thought. Why are their shirts blue?

“Got ourselves a little archer here, ain’t we?” one of them said. He took a step toward Danny and bent low. “And what’re you gonna do with that, you little wanker?”

Danny drew the string back and let it snap. He pointed it at the other soldier and snapped it again.

The two of them laughed again.

“If I had any arrows,” Danny said, tears welling up in his eyes, “you’d both be dead.”

The smiling soldier stepped forward. “But you don’t,” he said, raising his foot, “and we ain’t.”

Danny felt the boot strike his face and then he felt nothing.

*****

March 28, 1941, 8:42PM
Royal Air Force Base, Esher, England

Flight Sergeant Michael Morgan sat in the briefing room, not really listening. The seven other men that were present had been going on and on since dinner had ended, and had gotten no where. He should have been listening…should have cared what they had to say. It did, after all, concern him a great deal. But he couldn’t bring himself to listen to them. He’d never been cut out for this part of it, he knew. Put him in the air, and everything made sense, and he would do wonders. Put him in a room with a bunch of people talking…well, then this is what you got.

“Sergeant Morgan?” he heard Air Commodore Masterson address him. “Sergeant Morgan, what did you think about what Lord Cumberland’s idea?”

Mike took a sip from his water. Although all the other men in the room were drinking, he hadn’t touched liquor in nearly three years. He couldn’t afford to not be ready for duty at a moment’s notice. He sometimes envied the other pilots…but once he was in the air, he forgot all of that. The high from drinking was nothing like the high from Excalibur.

He placed his water back down on the table and cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Lord Cumberland,” he said, addressing the young noble across the table, “I did not hear what you said.”

Clive Augustus, the young Duke of Cumberland, stared at Mike for a moment. It was hard to read the Duke’s expression…it could have been irritated, or indifferent, or outright hostile…Mike couldn’t tell. A moment later, though, and Lord Cumberland’s face split in a wide grin. “No need to apologize, Sergeant Morgan,” the Duke said with a laugh. “In fact, I believe that perhaps we should all apologize for boring a man of action such as yourself with such dull talk.”

They all laughed at the Duke’s joke, and Mike forced a smile. “Please, go on, Lord Cumberland,” he said when the laughter faded.

It was Captain Craig that answered. “If I may, Duke Cumberland?” he said and waited for Cumberland’s nod of approval before continuing. “The Duke suggested that there is a connection between the IRA and Germany. He feels that perhaps that would be the next order of business for Excalibur, now that the bombing has become less of a threat.”

Commodore Masterson nodded. “Our intelligence officers have verified that there are factions of the IRA working with the Nazis. It makes sense…the micks have no love for us. They’d be willing to aid the Nazis in any way they could.”

The Duke cleared his throat. “I hear that the one they call Greenhood is planning to help Germany with some sort of invasion plan. Some IRA thugs that were arrested in Belfast provided us with information on this group’s whereabouts.”

Mike arched an eyebrow. “Greenhood?” he asked. “I thought that he was just a myth…a bogeyman that the IRA use to try and frighten us.”

Captain Craig sipped his brandy. “Not so, Sergeant,” he said. “This Greenhood’s the leader of one of the most militant IRA groups we’ve encountered. It can’t bode well to have him working with our enemies.”

Commodore Masterson placed his elbows on the table, pressing his fingers together as he thought. “Until we can find a more urgent mission for you and the Excalibur, Sergeant Morgan,” he said. “I believe that this may be what is best. We’ll brief you in the morning. Dismissed.”

The Commodore’s tone had an edge to it, Mike realized. Lord Cumberland’s money had gone a long way to funding London’s defense…especially the Excalibur. Mike’s lack of attention to the Duke had earned him some sore words come tomorrow morning. He stood and saluted.

“One moment, Sergeant,” the Duke said before he left. “And with the Commodore’s permission. I’ve only seen you in photos and in one horrible reel of film. Might I arrange a more personal viewing of the Excalibur?”

The Commodore nodded. “That can certainly be arranged, my lord. In the morning, then.”

Mike saluted again, and then turned to the Duke. “It was my pleasure, my lord,” he said with a slight bow. The Duke held no true military rank, the salute was not a fitting way to bid him good night.

Duke Cumberland nodded and smiled. “It was truly enjoyable meeting you, Sergeant. I look forward to seeing the wonderful machine in the morning.”

Mike left the private dining hall and made his way through the base. He reached his quarters, unlocked the door, and went in. He clicked on the light and tossed himself onto the bed.

Across the room, leaning against the wall was the Excalibur. It glistened even in the dim light from his bedside lamp.

Standing over seven and a half feet tall, the Excalibur was a suit of armor. Mechanized armor, they sometimes called it. It had powerful engines on the back of the torso and legs, allowing the wearer to fly as fast as any fighter in the Royal Air Force.

He had flown in the Excalibur for many months in the defense of Great Britain from the German air raids. The Excalibur was the main reason that London was never attacked directly. He was based out of Esher, just southwest of London proper, and could easily reach most of the island within a half hour, at most.

There was only one like it in the entire Royal Air Force. The Excalibur’s inventor, Alistair Cain, had died before he could make more, and his plans were nothing that anyone else could make any sense of. They had tried to disassemble the suit in order to see how it functioned, but fear of damaging any of its workings had caused them to stop. Instead, they decided that they would see what could be done with just one such weapon. They tested many pilots, most of them not even making it past the preliminary stages, or learning what it was they were being tested for. Mike had been the first pilot to pass all their tests…and the first pilot to man the Excalibur.

And so it was that Flight Sergeant Michael Morgan found himself his nation’s greatest defender against the German threat.

And now that the air raids seemed to be ending, they were going to find something else for him to do. It seemed he would be heading to Ireland, to try and prevent any kind of alliance between the Nazis and the IRA.

What he really wanted to do was fly right into Germany…right into Berlin itself, and do to the Nazis what had been done to his people for these many months. He didn’t understand why this was never even mentioned in any of the talks…and he had long ago realized that he had very little input into how he or the Excalibur were used. He was used to that…he was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders. But it still seemed wrong somehow.

He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of flying.

*****

Danny slipped over the high stone wall and dropped lightly to the ground. The nearby sentry didn’t notice him at all. He crept up behind the guard. He raised his hand and brought it down on the back of the soldier’s neck, dropping him to the ground.

“Be glad that’s all I do to you, you limey toe-rag,” he whispered and was then on his way. He reached the corner of the barracks that was closest to the southern wall and paused to look around. His eyes were just as sharp at night as they were in the day, and he saw three more guards two hundred meters away. They were headed away from him, and toward the back of a much larger building. This was the command center…he recognized it from the blueprints he’d taken from Fitzpatrick.

Several wires ran along the far corner of the command center. He waited until the guards had gone around the corner and then pulled his weapon from his back.

The long bow was made of dark brown wood, recurved at either end to enhance its power. From this distance, it wasn’t a question of whether an arrow could reach the target…it was a question of whether or not the archer could hit the target. He pulled an arrow from the quiver at his back, nocked, and drew.

He released, and the arrow cut through the night air. It struck true, severing the wire that powered the command center. Immediately, the lights in the building went out.

No going back now, Danny thought. It wouldn’t be long before they restored power, and he wanted his work to be done by then. The sooner he was out of this bloody country and back home, the better, as far as he was concerned. He reached up and pulled his hood close about his face. He waited only a moment before continuing stealthily along his way.