The Last Avengers Story, Chapter 4

Avengers Forever - aka Die Hardest

Chapter Four: The best laid plans

Present Day - Fort Knox, Kentucky, USA
Cathy Gale stood in the darkness, her entire body rigid with terror. ''This is ridiculous,'' she told herself. ''Get control of yourself. You've faced psychotic villains without a qualm, you've played roles before, roles that if you weren't convincing would result in you being shot in punishment. Here, all you'll get are rotten tomatoes.''

Cathy took a deep breath. She'd played roles before but only in front of one or two psychotic killers, never in front of 500 people with a spotlight on her and their ears hanging on her every word.

''We need someone with a British accent,'' her sister's daughter's husband had told her, ''A posh accent. You'd be perfect, Cathy. You don't have to be a trained actress. We're putting on the show for charity, after all. You'll be splendid. '' If he were in front of her now she'd strangle him. Was that her cue? Cathy felt a cold ball of ice slip from her throat down her chest to her belly. No, no, not yet.

Cathy took another deep breath, and put her long cigarette holder in her mouth. Blast these laws in America that wouldn't allow her to smoke in the wings, let alone on stage. How silly she'd look on stage with an unlit cigarette in a cigarette holder clenched between her teeth.

Richard - her sister's daughter's husband, came up to her at that point. Cathy's hands itched but she kept them at her sides.

''How're the butterflies?'' he whispered.

''They've churned into sour cream by now,'' Cathy hissed at him.

''Oh, not to worry,'' he hissed back. ''Once you get on stage just concentrate on your fellow actors. You've done it all before in rehearsals, haven't you.''

Cathy's fingers went for him, but Richard intercepted them and kissed her knuckles. ''You're a trooper, Cathy. Oh, there's your cue! On you go.''

''And she got a standing ovation at the end,'' her great grand-niece continued to bubble, once the actress and her entourage had returned to their home. ''Her Mrs. Tweed was the hit of the show, and they're going to do it for three more nights!''

''Something's Afoot for three more nights? How splendid,'' said her twin sister, Patrice (known as 'Pussy' during her wilder days) Galore.

''I was in shock when I agreed to it,'' Cathy told her, accepting the very large whisky and soda that Patrice had prepared for her.

''But, Cathy! You were leaving for London three days from now.''

Cathy nodded. ''Like I said, I was in shock. Well, I'll just put off my trip for one day. I'll call up the friend I was going to visit, and tell him I'll be a day late. He'll understand.''

''Why call? Why not just email him?''

Cathy laughed. ''My friend is a Renaissance man, but his area of mechanical expertise end with the motor car engine. He tried to fix a toaster for a friend once - the bread charred and the toaster itself ended up in orbit. We're going to try to pull him into the 21st century on this visit.''

''We?''

''Well, it is his eightieth birthday party. A lot of his old colleagues are gathering to wish him well. People he's worked with over the years. Ste... I mean, Gascoine, for that is his name, is well-loved by all who knew him. He's getting a notebook computer and we're not going to rest until he knows how to use that email feature and promises to do so.''

''You're going to be a day late for his eightieth birthday party?''

Cathy grimaced. ''It's just a day, Patrice. A day that he's going to spend peacefully at home, and the most excitement he'll get will be if he manages to beat Mike Gambit at a miniature wargame. It'll be fine.''

Patrice Galore nodded, and stopped herself from saying, ''If you say so.'' It wasn't as if Cathy weren't going to call the chap on his birthday, although if he was as old-fashioned as she let on, it was a surprise he'd have a phone. Perhaps he used one of the old-fashioned kind.

Cathy made her way up the stairs to her room, stripped off her clothes and stepped under the pins and needles of an ice cold shower. She was only a couple of years younger than Steed, and she didn't have any intention of dying yet awhile. Steed would be just the same. And by arriving a day late she'd have more time to spend with him alone, anyway. Cathy nodded. Yes, the fact that she'd be a day late wouldn't matter at all.

Present Day - Mulberry Luxury Retirement Center

Mr. Honeywell and Mr. Strange stood around a large table, upon which resided a very large scale model of the Tibet-By-The-Sea Naval Station. Mr. Quarl sat in his chair, watching Return of the Pink Panther on the television set. It must be said that most of his attention was given to the vast array of guns he had spread over the settee, which he was cleaning meticulously one by one.