“So, we are in agreement, then?” Air Commodore William Masterson said to the men around the table. “Northern Ireland is the best location to next deploy the Excalibur?”

Captain Craig watched as most of the men nodded their approval. He himself was not so sure. Normally, he would keep such feelings to himself, but he was the one who worked closest with Morgan and the Excalibur. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “Are we sure there are no better theaters in which to utilize what could be our greatest weapon, sir?”

Commodore Masterson, elbows on the table, pressed his fingertips together in front of his face. His eyes peered over his hands at Captain Craig. “What are you proposing, Captain?”

Before he could answer, the Duke of Cumberland cut in. “With all due respect, Captain, I believe that a threat to the sovereignty of our nation is certainly a worthwhile effort.”

“Very true, Lord Cumberland,” the Commodore answered. “But we are all here tonight to determine the best course of action regarding the Excalibur. How can we decide the best course without discussing all possibilities? Continue, Captain Craig.”

Craig nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he said, avoiding Lord Cumberland’s gaze. “I cannot say what I feel is exactly the best course of action. All I can say is that I feel there must be another way…”

The Duke interrupted again. “The Excalibur was designed as the first line of defense for all of Britain. I understand that you work closely with Sergeant Morgan, and I value your opinion, but it sounds as if you do not actually have one. I can think of no greater threat to the sovereignty of Great Britain than one that originates within our own borders. And the Excalibur was created…largely due to my contributions…to deal with threats to Britain itself.”

Craig reluctantly faced the Duke. Clive Augustus made him nervous. He was not sure what it was, but he did not feel comfortable around the man. Perhaps it was the fact that Cumberland’s money was responsible for the work he had done with the Excalibur. Perhaps it was the fact that he himself came from the working class, and his parents had bred within him a sense of mistrust for the nobility. He could not say what it was, but he pushed that feeling aside and faced the Duke.

“Perhaps we could send the Excalibur to France. Surely it would prove a boon to our operations there. It would also work on a symbolic level…the mere sight of the Excalibur flying above the streets of Paris would inspire the resistance.”

The Commodore answered before the Duke could say anything. “That is something that I would say we should discuss down the road, Captain. I believe it’s too early to earnestly discuss any operations on foreign soil. I believe that we should proceed as planned.”

Captain Craig sat back in his chair. “Yes, sir.” He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were taking the wrong course of action.

The look of triumph on Augustus’s face did nothing to alleviate that feeling. “This Greenhood that has been plaguing the area around Belfast is a great threat,” the Duke said. “Our men in Northern Ireland have managed to piece together very little about him, but what little information we have is alarming. His IRA group, thought of as radical even by others in the organization, is certainly working with the Nazis. I assume I do not have to explain to you gentlemen how dangerous it would be for the Germans to gain a foothold in Ireland.”

The door to the dining hall opened and a young soldier stepped into the room. He snapped to attention and saluted the gathered officers. “Air Commodore Masterson, sir,” he said.

“What is it, airman?” Commodore Masterson asked.

“You have guests, sir, that demand an audience.”

The Commodore lowered his hands from in front of his face, placing them flat on the table before him. “Can this not wait, airman?”

“Oh, leave the chap alone, Billy,” an older man said, sweeping into the room.

Commodore Masterson stood and gaped at the newcomer. “Hugh Dalton,” he said, barely above a whisper. “What brings you here?”

Craig recognized the name immediately. Hugh Dalton was the Minister of Economic Warfare and head of the Special Operations Executive. He was in charge of non-traditional wartime tactics throughout the United Kingdom and war torn Europe. He was one of the closest advisors to Winston Churchill.

“I’ve heard great things about the work you’ve done with the Excalibur, Billy,” Dalton said. “And I’m here to make sure that continues.”

A woman entered the room behind Dalton. Craig’s unease about their course of action vanished immediately. It was just gone, as simple as that. He could not say if she was younger or older than he; her features certainly had the appearance of youth, but her blue eyes held a maturity that he had never before seen. As her eyes passed over him, he felt calm and comfortable.

Dalton raised his arm to the woman. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce the Lady Sophia Pallas, Prime Minister of the nation of Solis.” He turned back to the assembled officers. “We’ve just come from London and a meeting with Churchill. We have much to discuss.”

The Commodore sat back down in his chair. “What’s this about, Mr. Dalton?”

Dalton took a step closer to the table and looked around at each of the men seated there. His eyes came to rest on Duke Cumberland. Craig noticed that while all the other men at the table seemed as calm as he now felt, the Duke seemed to be twisting in his chair.

“Ah, Duke Cumberland,” Dalton said. “A pleasure, young man, a pleasure. I understand that much of what has been accomplished here is due to your funding.”

The Duke stammered, as if the answer did not come easy. “That’s…it’s tr…thank you, Mr. Dalton.”

“I believe that it is we who should be thanking you, my Lord. You have helped England through one of her darkest hours.”

The Duke stood from his chair, surprising Dalton, who hopped back a step. “It was…well, we all do what we can, Mr. Dalton,” the Duke managed to get out. “Gentleman, I believe I must depart for the evening.”

Hugh Dalton stepped back in and wrapped an arm around the Duke’s shoulders. “Surely you will want to stay and hear what I have come to tell you all, my Lord? It has much to do with all that has been accomplished here.”

“I am here strictly as a gesture of honor, Mr. Dalton,” Augustus said. He seemed to have begun to regain his composure. “I trust that the men here will take all that you say into consideration and make the right decision. My…fian…my mistress is waiting for me.”

The Duke shook Dalton’s arm loose and turned toward the door. He found the Lady Sophia Pallas standing before him.

“Are you unwell, Lord Cumberland?” she asked. Her voice, tinged with a strange accent, was melodious, yet strong.

Cumberland stammered again. “My lady…I suddenly feel ill, and must not keep my…mistress waiting. Surely you understand?”

Her clear blue eyes examined him a moment, and then she smiled and stepped aside. “Of course,” she said. “It was nice to meet you, Lord Cumberland.”

Duke Cumberland rushed out of the room. “It was my pl…it was interesting meeting you, my Lady,” he said over his shoulder.

“Strange,” Dalton muttered, before turning back to those at the table. “Very well, as I said, gentlemen, we have much to discuss.”

The Commodore resumed his earlier manner, hands steepled before his face. “What is this all about, Minister Dalton?”

“In my role as the head of the Special Operations Executive, I am in charge of all non-military action against our enemies. Prime Minister Churchill has decided that the Excalibur falls into that category.”

Commodore Masterson’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that you will be taking over our operations here at Esher?”

“Not at all, Billy,” Dalton said. “Just the Excalibur. Flight Sergeant Morgan and the Excalibur will be turned over to Lady Pallas.”

Captain Craig was shocked at hearing that. He was apparently not alone. The Commodore bolted from his chair. “What? I can’t believe this? On whose orders?”

Dalton shrugged, a half smile playing across his face. “Churchill’s himself, Billy.”

Before anyone could respond or protest further, the lights went out, leaving them all in darkness.

*****

March 28, 1941, 9:08PM

Danny McCullough moved quietly, but quickly, ducking behind the corner of the garage. With the lights out, the base had gone on full alert. Soldiers were swarming about the area. He could hear orders being barked out from not too far away. He crouched low in the shadows of the garage. The moon was not full, but it was a fairly bright night.

After cutting the power, he had made his way to the furthest point of the base from the command center. Two long garages lined either side of a dirt road, transport trucks and jeeps in each bay. He had picked this spot for his distraction, so he could make his way back to the command center and find his target.

A line of soldiers went running by. An officer yelled for four man teams to get into the jeeps and to go out and scour the base. Within moments, three jeeps tore off, spraying dirt as they each headed in a different direction. There was one group remaining, two soldiers getting into the jeep as the officer relayed more orders into a walkie-talkie strapped to another soldier’s back.

This was his chance. He stepped from the shadows and raised his bow.

His arm was a blur as he snapped three arrows from the quiver on his back. The first sliced through the wire on the walkie-talkie, the second and third buried themselves in the front and rear tires on the jeep.

He had to restrain himself from drawing any more arrows and taking each of the four of them out. It went against everything he had been for so long. A mere two months ago, his first three arrows would have taken out the officer and the two soldiers in the jeep. And then he would have followed that by taking his time with the fourth.

But much had changed for the man called Greenhood in the past two months.

Fitting to his rank, the officer was the first to react. He started to draw his pistol from its holster. Greenhood drew another arrow and fired as he leaped into the fray. The arrow struck the back of the officer’s hand, pinning it to his leg. He started to cry out when the end of the bow struck him across the bridge of the nose. The officer dropped silently, blood pouring from his nose.

The soldier with the walkie-talkie strapped to his back spun to face Greenhood, and his eyes went wide. “Oh my…” was all he got out before Greenhood delivered a spin kick that caught him beside the head and knocked him to the dirt, unconscious.

The jeep started to roll away as the two soldiers within saw what had happened. “Drive, Jimmy…DRIVE!” the passenger shouted.

Greenhood took two long strides and then leaped into the back of the jeep. “Hello, my lads,” he said and lashed out.

The driver flew right out of the jeep and tumbled in the dirt. The other struggled to jump from the jeep, but Greenhood caught him by the scruff of the neck and flung him back the other way, through the driver side door. Just as the driver was rising, the other soldier collided with him. They both fell to the ground in a tangled heap.

Only got a few moments to do this, Danny, he told himself. He quickly went to each of the soldiers, removing the grenade that hung at each of their breasts. He pulled the pin on each in turn, and rolled them into the vehicle bays of the garage. He pulled the two soldiers who had been in the jeep to the far side of the vehicle and threw them down beside the others.

The four grenades went off in rapid succession, shredding the vehicles with shrapnel. He pulled another arrow from his quiver and removed a small wrap of cloth from a pouch at his belt. He wrapped it around the arrow’s tip, and then removed a lighter from another pouch. The wrap was soaked in whiskey and it caught flame easily. He rose and knocked the arrow.

He saw the damaged vehicles within the garage, petrol spewing from their tanks. He smiled and drew the arrow back.

He loosed and then ducked down behind the jeep.

The arrow struck and there was an immediate burst of flame as the petrol ignited. A large ball of fire rose into the night sky. He stood, pulling his hood low against the heat of the blaze.

He looked down at the soldiers, one of which was beginning to stir. “You limey fuckers are lucky I’m a changed man.”

With that, he ran off away from the vehicle depot, along the perimeter of the base. He watched as the three jeeps that had already left all veered to come back to the garages.

Smiling, Greenhood ran back toward the command center. “I’m coming for you, Duke,” he whispered as he ran.

*****

Duke Cumberland managed to make his way through the darkness to his quarters. He stumbled through the door and slammed it shut behind him, throwing his back against the door. There was soft candlelight coming from the corner of the room.

“Mistress?” he asked. “Is that you?”

The candle move, and her face came into the light. “Who else would it be?” she said.

His beating heart calmed at the sight of her. The lights had gone out just after he had fled from the dining hall and that…that woman. The Lady Pallas had made him so uneasy that he could not remain. What’s more, she seemed like she would see through any lie he told, and he found himself unable to lie at all.

The explosions had come not long after the lights went out. The Duke had no idea what was happening. All he knew was that none of this was a part of anything he had planned.

“Something’s happening, Mistress,” he said, catching his breath and doing his best to regain his composure. “I’m not sure what.”

“Calm yourself, fool,” she snapped, and he immediately went silent. Adalinda Herrschaft was a commanding presence, and he obeyed every word she said. “Start at the beginning.”

He looked at her in the candlelight. How beautiful she is, he thought. He was helpless before her. She was like a goddess, perfect and pure. She tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder and locked her blue eyes onto him.

When the Germans had approached him to help forge an alliance with his IRA contacts, they had sent two of their own agents to ensure that things went smoothly. The first was Krieghlem, but he was soon followed by Frau Herrschaft. She quickly had him wrapped around her little finger and jumping at her commands. She traveled with him, posing as his fiancée, while steering him in the direction that the Germans wanted. The amazing thing was that he didn’t care at all.

Her voice was calm when next she spoke. “Tell me, Clive. Tell me what happened.”

He related what had happened at the meeting. He was manipulating them into sending the Excalibur where he wanted. Now that Greenhood had gone rogue, the Duke planned on bringing the Excalibur to Ireland to eliminate the threat he posed. This would also put him in a position to steal the Excalibur. All was going according to plan, until Minister Dalton and the woman had arrived.

“What woman?” she asked, a sharp edge coming into her voice.

“I’ve never heard of her before, but she was introduced as the Prime Minister of the nation of Solis. Her name is Sophia Pallas.”

Adalinda sucked in a quick breath. “She is here? Here?” She rose to her feet and began pacing the room.

“What shall we do, Mistress?” Clive Augustus asked, wringing his hands.

“Gather the men,” she told him. “Plans have changed.”

*****

Greenhood approached the command center. Far behind him, he could hear the chaos that the explosions at the depot had caused. Men were struggling to douse the blaze and others were combing the area looking for signs of the saboteur. He moved to the back end of the command center, looking for the best way in. The plans that Fitzpatrick had didn’t seem entirely accurate now that he was here.

There was a humming sound above and behind him and he spun and drew an arrow.

The area flooded with light, and he was momentarily blinded. His eyes, always sharp, quickly adjusted, so he was helpless for just a moment.

What he saw left him more startled than the sudden burst of light. There, hovering about twenty meters up and away from him, was a man in a suit of armor. Small jets of blue flame spouted from the man’s back, allowing him to float in the air.

“Fuck me,” Danny said. “It’s the bleedin Excalibur.”

The armored man raised his right arm. A small gattling gun was fixed to the top of his forearm. He took aim at Greenhood. A voice broke out, carried by electronic speakers.

“DROP YOUR WEAPON AND LAY DOWN ON THE GROUND OR I WILL OPEN FIRE!”

Greenhood’s mouth twitched in a one sided smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Right.”

He loosed his arrow and the sound of machinegun fire tore through the night air.