Ever After Chapter 4

THE RETURN

I.

''These peapods are marvelous,'' said John Steed, helping himself to more from the bowl with his chopsticks. ''Here, try one, Mrs. Peel.

He extended the chopsticks towards Emma and placed a peapod in her open mouth. ''Mmmm,'' she agreed. ''Delicious.''

Emma Peel surveyed the table and scooped up selections of sweet and sour chicken and pork. ''I love eating in American restaurants.'' she commented. ''They give you such big portions.''

''Well, it's such a big country,'' Steed replied, eying the mussels with askance.

''I'd like to travel to China sometime,'' Emma said, ''See what real Chinese food tastes like.''

''You've been to Hong Kong.''

''Yes, but that's not China, is it? It's very Westernized. I want to see the real country. Peer at the peasants. View the rice paddies. Eye the Forbidden City. Gaze on the Great Wall.''

''You know,'' said Steed, ''I've always wanted to walk on Hadrian's Wall. That's still there, isn't it?''

''Hadrian's Wall? Well, yes, bits and pieces of it.''

''Ah, Roman England,'' Steed said musingly. ''So romantic, isn't it, Mrs. Peel? I can see you as Boudicca, grasping your spear and standing in your war chariot, ready to ride down the Roman legions.''

''You have a funny idea of romance,'' Emma said with a smile.

''I'd be the Roman centurion whom you'd have to run over.''

Emma smiled. ''Have some more sesame shrimp, Steed.'' She popped a morsel into his mouth.

They ate for a few minutes in silence.

It was their second night together after having recovered their memories, which had been wiped away by the evil Dr. Tara King. Doctor Hartley had used hypnosis to bring back not only their memories as Steed and Emma, but also their actions in the past year - Steed as a concert pianist and Emma Peel as a department store display designer.

''The question remains, Steed, and I can't let it go,'' said Emma, leaning back as a waiter stopped by to refill their water glasses, ''Are we alive, or are we dead?''

The waiter raised his eyebrows.

''Well, I'm certainly alive, Mrs. Peel. I thought I proved that last night,'' Steed said, sipping water.

''I meant,'' Emma Peel enunciated every word, ''are we alive or dead. In England.''

''Ah. In England. Yes, of course. That is the question.''

''It affects everything, Steed. If we're dead...then our wills have been read, our possessions dispersed...all our friends and family have been grieving for us for two years...''

Emma's smile faded and her eyes turned bleak.

Steed put his hand over hers.

''Unfortunately, Mrs. Peel..how could we not be dead? Indeed, it would be worse if they replaced us with doubles.''

''Doubles...'' Emma murmured, comforted by the feeling of Steed's warm, strong hand over hers. She lifted her eyes to his. ''How are we going to find out?''

''We have to get back to England. But incognito. We can't go as Brian Harris and Diana Smythe - the villains will have a watch for us at the airports. We'll need new papers, new passports.'' ''And where will we get them from?''

''I'll have to call an old friend. Mrs. Gale.''

''Steed! You can't just call her out of the blue! What if we are dead?''

''Then she'll get a pleasant surprise. Or, knowing Mrs. Gale,'' Steed smiled reminiscently, ''an unpleasant surprise. You're right, Mrs. Peel. Mrs. Gale is the ideal person to call, because she can tell us right away if we're alive or dead.''

Their waiter, who had stopped by to ask if they'd like more tea, went away again.

They walked slowly through Chinatown on the way back to their hotel room, hand in hand. The Californian night was warm and very pleasant, and when they arrived at their hotel they decided to go for a swim in the outdoor pool. They felt safe at the hotel, for they'd checked in under assumed names. (It was the 1960s, a more innocent time, and there was no asking for IDs before handing over the room keys). They swam together leisurely, they played frisbee with some kids who were also enjoying the pool, Emma borrowed a dolphin float from a young girl and floated around in it til Steed 'sharked' her, rising up from underneath her and dumping her into the water.

They returned to their rooom and showered together, and then got into bed. Steed checked his watch, then picked up the phone and spoke to the operator. ''I'd like to make a long distance call,'' he said. He gave the number, and seconds later the call went through. ''I love the American telephone system,'' he mouthed at Mrs. Peel as he listened to the chirping of that distinctive British telephone ring.

''Cathy Gale,'' came a familiar voice.

Steed's mouth went suddenly dry. What was he going to say to her? What if she believed he was dead? If he did this indelicately, she'd punish him for it when they met in person.

''Hello?'' came her voice.

Steed handed the phone to Mrs. Peel. ''You talk to her.''

Emma glared at him as she took the phone. ''Hello, Mrs. Gale?''

''Yes, speaking.''

''Mrs. Gale...this is going to be rather difficult...we talked, many years ago. I don't suppose you remember my voice?''

''No, I don't. Who is this?''

''Mrs. Gale, my name is Emma Peel.''

''Emma Peel?''

''Yes. Do you...remember me at all?''

''Of course.'' Cathy Gale said warmly. ''We talked a few times, after you joined Steed in working for Department S.''

''And we bouted a few times,'' Emma reminded her, ''on the piste.''

''That's right. I was impressed with your fencing skills. I knew you'd do well with Steed. And when your husband came back, I was so happy for you.''

A cold hand clutched Emma's heart.

''I beg your pardon?''

''Two years ago, when your husband was found in the Amazon?'' Cathy Gale said, suddenly cautious.

Emma took a deep breath. Steed looked at her in alarm and she smiled at him reassuringly. She returned her attention to the phone, but put one hand over her eyes, as if to help her concentrate.

''Mrs. Gale...have you seen Steed recently?''

''No, I'm afraid not. His new partner...a bit too immature for the job, I think. Wants to keep him for herself...I'm surprised Steed puts up with it, but, there you are.''

''Steed's new partner. What's her name?''

Beside her, Steed stiffened indignantly, mouthing the words, 'new partner?'

There was a silence, then, slowly, Mrs. Gale said, ''Surely you know?''

''Please, Mrs. Gale. All will become clear. What's Steed's new partner's name?''

''Tara King.''

Emma's hand across her eyes clenched. ''Tara King.''

''That's right.''

''Mrs. Gale, when's the last time you saw Steed?''

''A couple of years ago. He brought Miss King by - introduced us.''

''And how was he looking at the time?''

''Well, he was his usual self.''

''I see.''

''All right, Mrs. Peel, I've answered your questions, now you're going to have to answer some of mine. What's going on?''

''Let me put it this way, Mrs. Gale. My husband never returned from the Amazon, and even if he had, I wasn't around to hear about it.''

''Oh. Dear.''

''And, Steed is right next to me. I'm going to give him the phone. Talk to him, will you?''

Steed grimaced at her as she handed him the receiver. He tried to give it back to her, but she gave him one of her looks. He put the receiver to his ear. ''Hullo, Mrs. Gale,'' he said cheerfully.

''You sound like Steed,'' Mrs. Gale's voice came grudgingly. ''But you're going to have to do better than that.''

''Ask me a question, Mrs. Gale. Something that only you and I would know.''

''Very well. In all the time we worked together, did we ever kiss?''

''Oh, Mrs. Gale, what a question!''

''Yes, but can you answer it?''

''I was playing the role of 'Johnny-the-horse,' and you were my bird. I had to impress a few mugs, and I gave you a kiss. You weren't best pleased. I was dressed like a vicar at the time.''

''It was the kiss and not your costume as a vicar that displeased me, Steed.''

''Quite.''

''After I left Department S, I went on a vacation. What was my first communication with you?''

''You sent me a Christmas card. It was postmarked from Fort Knox, Kentucky, USA. And in a curious coincidence, Mrs. Gale, I am actually calling you from the United States at this precise moment in time.''

''All right. Steed. Tell me what's going on.''

''Mrs. Peel and I need your help.''

''Go on.''

Steed took the glass of whisky that Mrs. Peel handed to him, and began to talk.

II.

''Well, howdy there, pardners,'' Cathy Gale greeted them.

''Don't be cruel, Mrs. Gale,'' said John Steed. He pushed the Stetson back on his head, and rubbed his large belly. ''These high heeled boots are killing me.''

''You can say that again,'' said Emma Peel, rearranging her massive bosom. ''If I could see my feet, I'd take mine off.''

''I wish I could help you, Mrs. Peel,'' Steed sighed.

They'd arrived at Gatwick Airport, rented a car with their fake passports, in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Tex Wayne, and driven to to the Blue Boar Inn just a few kilometers away, where Mrs. Gale was waiting for them with a large white van.

''Get in,'' Mrs. Gale told them, indicating the van.

In the privacy of the rear of the van they changed into less bulky clothing, removing the wigs, face and body padding. And the boots. They still didn't look like themselves, for Mrs. Peel was now a red-head with a short, short hairstyle, and Steed was blond with a military style haircut and a goatee.

They climbed into the cab of the white van with Mrs. Gale. ''What is that noise?'' Steed asked, putting his hand on a small black box that separated the driver's from the rest of the front seat.

''I've got a little Pekinese in there,'' Cathy Gale said. ''Pay no attention to him.'' She engaged gears and brought the van out on the road. As she drove she checked the rear view mirror frequently. ''I've been doing some research,'' she reported. ''John Steed and Tara King are still the top agents at Department S. And they've been doing some good work. Foiled quite a few dastardly plots from the Other Side. More to the point, no information has disappeared while on their watch. So, whatever their purpose in replacing you, it doesn't seem to have been in an effort to steal secrets.''

''What about me?'' Emma Peel asked. ''Have I been in the picture at all?''

Cathy Gale shook her head. ''You'd sold Knight Industries shortly after joining Department S, and set up The Peel Foundation. That was your doing, I hope?''

''Yes.''

''All right. , when Peter Peel...came back...you left St... Department S. You joined Peter Peel in the Amazon, setting up a mission to fly medicine and supplies to the indigent peoples. You're supposed to be there right now. The Peel Foundation is still functioning and giving significant monies to charity, and Knight Industries is doing fine as well.''

Mrs. Gale drove in silence for some minutes, as Steed and Emma Peel mulled over this information. ''Well, at least we aren't dead.'' Emma said.

''We've been replaced,'' Steed said quietly. 'And we've been replaced by Our Side.'' Steed massaged his forehead with both hands. More than Mrs. Peel, he'd given his entire life to Department S, and was feeling extremely betrayed right now. He hadn't wanted to believe it. But now...he dug his fingernails into his skin...but the pain didn't make him wake up. He released his forehead and faced reality. He nodded. ''I am afraid you're right, Mrs. Peel.''

''But why?'' she demanded. ''It's been tormenting me for days. Why? Why would they do this to us?''

''More to the point,'' said Cathy Gale, ''What are we going to do about it?''

She said it in a matter of fact way, with no emphasis on the word 'we.' She had taken it for granted that they would take it for granted that she was in this with them. Steed glanced at her and then held out his hand to her. She shook it firmly. Emma gave her a thumbs up sign, and she grinned.

''I think the first step is to find Tara King,'' Emma declared. ''Both Steed and I remember her as the Doctor who brainwashed us - at least initially. She would seem to be the prime mover in this little...tragedy we have here.''

''Steed...or Tara King...'' Cathy mused. ''I know where Steed lives.''

''I would certainly like to see this Steed,'' said John Steed. ''And perhaps...turn the tables?''

''Replace him?'' Emma said. ''No, Steed.'' She said it more urgently than she meant to.

Steed looked at her. Took her hand.''All right, my dear. All right.''

Emma took a deep breath. She didn't want to play identity games. She hadn't liked it in the past, and she definitely didn't like it now. She didn't want to do anything that would separate her from Steed - place him at risk of being brainwashed again. Not with a double for him out there. They had to work as a team, now so more than ever. Because they had only the two of them...well, the three of them, now. Them...against their Own Side.

''We're going to Steed's place.'' Cathy said. ''We'll persuade...let's call him Fred for the sake of distinction...to tell us where to find Tara King.''

''They may be expecting us,'' Steed said. ''They know we've regained our memories.''

''If he's anything like you, he'll be in his flat, waiting for you to attack him.'' said Cathy. ''With Tara King at his side. Just the two of them.''

''Should we do exactly what they expect, then?'' Steed said cheerfully. ''They went to so much trouble to create new identities for us. They didn't kill us then. They won't kill us now.''

''Probably not,'' said Cathy Gale.

Emma Peel smiled. She let the two of them argue - or banter - or whatever it was they were doing together, while she sat thinking. Why...why would their own side replace them? It wasn't for money - if her Peel Foundation and Knight Industries were still in business. It wasn't for secrets - if Steed was still an agent and Tara King was an agent and they were doing 'good things.' Why, then? Why?

If it had just been Steed and Peel, she would have been willing to believe that it was a personal thing. Some agent had wanted to work with Steed and so had her replaced. But the scope of what had occurred was too vast for that. A great number of Department S members must have been involved. Unless...someone had combined business with pleasure?

''Steed...'' she said, ''do you remember...it was an old joke...an in-joke, I heard you say once. No one escapes from Department S.''

Steed looked at her. ''Yes, of course.''

''Tell me what that meant again?''

''It was just a saying...coined a few years ago. A couple of agents had wanted to retire...they were in their prime. But before they could retire, they'd died.''

''In accidents. Not from natural causes.''

''That's right.''

''And that was it? Just two agents?''

''Well, three from Department S. I'd heard a couple of other departments got hit as well. The whole of the Service went through a bad patch.''

''Of agents dying before they were able to retire.''

''Well, plenty of agents retired. Old ones. But young ones...young ones were never allowed to leave, anyway...what is it you're driving at, Mrs. Peel?''

Emma shrugged. '''No one escapes from Department S.' We did. Not voluntarily, but we did.''

''What are you suggesting, Emma?'' asked Cathy Gale.

''I don't know, Cathy. I'm just trying to think of reasons, of motives for this insanity. And that's all I can come up with.''

''But...if we weren't planning on retiring...and we weren't...why would they go after us?'' demanded Steed. ''Why not go after someone who wanted to retire?''

Emma shrugged. ''Steed...Fred, rather...is still there. In Department S. With a new partner. I'm gone. And Fred's new partner is Tara King, who brainwashed us. Why would someone with the skills of a ...a mad scientist, settle for being a mere agent?''

''Mere agent? I think I resent that,'' said Steed.

''With Fred instead of you, she settled for being a mere agent,'' Emma said.

Cathy Gale made a choking sound and then started to cough.

''Keep your eyes on the road, Mrs. Gale,'' Steed told her.

''I'm sorry, Steed. Anyway, we're here.'' She brought the van to a halt. At the end of the road was Steed's apartment block.

''You two get into the back,'' Cathy ordered. ''I'll perform a reconnaisance and be back in fifteen minutes.'' She placed a wig on her head and large glasses over her eyes - the kind that were in style, took the Pekinese out of its kennel with the words, ''Come along, Snookums,'' and left them behind. It took them some seconds before they could control themselves.

''That's not the name of her dog,'' Steed said. ''She doesn't even have a dog.''

''Oh, Steed, I'm sure she took one look at Snookums in a pet store window and couldn't resist.''

''My auntie Genevieve had a dog once,'' Steed mused. ''It was a gigantic Doberman Pincher, and she was a tiny woman. But she had forearms like a lumberjack. Around children and other little old ladies, she had it under tight control. But when it was a postal worker or some smart aleck young man ...whoosh. It went to the end of its telescopic lead like a rocket.''

They dissolved into laughter.

Cathy Gale returned to the van and stuffed Snookums unceremoniously back into his kennel. ''Streets are clear. No other vans, no occupied cars, no surveillance equipment that I could see. And...your Bentley is there.''

''Which probably means that Fred is there.'' Emma observed.

''Which means you two are probably walking into the lion's den,'' Cathy retorted.

Steed nodded. ''Keep the engine running, Mrs. Gale.''

''Wait.'' Cathy reached into her purse and removed two identical keychains, one of which she handed to Steed, one to Emma. ''Just in case we're separated. This one is for my cottage in Lancs, this one is for my Peugot, which is currently at my flat here in London and which I certainly hope will remain there, and this one is for this van. If we are separated, our rendezvous point is the British Museum. Every day at noon, until we show up. Right?''

''Right.''

''And here...'' she reached into her purse again and took out two walkie talkies. ''If I haven't heard from you in fifteen minutes, I'm coming in.''

Steed and Emma stepped out of the van. ''Emma,'' Cathy called. Emma turned back to her. Cathy handed her a pistol. ''Better safe than sorry,'' she said. Emma nodded. She stuck the pistol into the waistband of her trousers, pulling out her shirt to hide it, then turned and followed Steed toward the block of flats.

Cathy Gale took a deep breath, and checked her watch. Fifteen minutes. It was going to be a long wait.

John Steed and Emma Peel walked on cat-like feet into the entrance way of Stable Mews. . Numbers 1 and 2 were on the ground floor, Steed's flat was on the first floor. They took the stairs rather than the elevator, but did not stop at the ground floor. Instead, they went up the remaining two flights, checking the landings of each of the floors, to see what they could see. Nothing. They returned to the first floor.

''Do we knock?'' Mrs. Peel whispered.

''I say we go right on in,'' Steed replied. ''It's my flat after all.''

He stood to the left of his door, so that his silhouette would not appear in the glass, and pressed the button on top of the door jamb. The door clicked open. Steed nudged the door wide open with his foot. Silence on the inside.

Steed stopped, lost. Normally, he'd put his bowler on top of his umbrella and poke it around the door, waiting for a reaction. But he'd left his Stetson in Mrs. Gale's van, and he didn't have an umbrella, anyway.

''Helloooo,'' he called. ''Anyone home?''

No response.

Steed looked at his partner. ''After you, Mrs. Peel.''

Emma grinned. She took off her jacket, and, holding it by the collar, walked into the living room.

She came to an abrupt halt. A man looking remarkably like John Steed was seated on the divan, a newspaper scrunched over his lap as if he had been reading it when disturbed. On the over stuffed chair beside him was a young woman wearing a preposterous wig and a miniskirt, drinking a large Old Fashioned.

''We've been waiting for you,'' said the man who looked...and sounded...like John Steed.

He wasn't quite like Steed. His hair was greyer, the hairline higher, his sideburns came down to the end of his ears. His belly strained slightly at his doublebreasted suit.

''Hello, Fred,'' Emma said. ''Hello, Dr. King.''

The impostor raised an eyebrow. ''Fred?''

Steed heard this outside the flat. He raised the walkie talkie to his lips. ''They're both here,'' he whispered. He stuffed the walkie talkie into his pocket, keeping his hand on the transmit button, and entered the room with a casual air. ''That's right.'' he said coldly. ''Fred.''

Both he and Emma looked not at the fake Steed, but at Tara King. They both recognized her.

''All right, Dr. King,'' said John Steed. ''Start at the beginning.''

''Sometimes people get burnt out,'' Tara King said abruptly. ''Or they lose their nerve. Or they start...second guessing their superiors. They want to leave the Department...but they can't leave.''

Steed and Emma exchanged glances.

''They are sent to the Village instead,'' Dr. King said. ''A miniature city where they are kept and cared for, where they have all the comforts of home. Where they stay for the rest of their lives.''

Steed and Emma exchanged glances. Horrified ones this time.

''It was thought to try a more humane approach,'' Dr. King said. ''Instead of imprisoning them...recondition them. Wipe out their old memories and give them new ones. Put them back into society. It was decided to experiment with you two.''

''Who decided?'' demanded Steed.

''One Ten. With input from myself.''

''So...Major Bee knows nothing about this?''

''Only the highest levels know this...Steed.''

''So this Village still exists?'' demanded Emma Peel.

''That's right!'' Tara King rose to her feet. ''That's right! And thanks to you it will continue to exist! You've proven that the best brainwashing in the world can't prevent agents from regaining their memories. So that experiment is no more. The Village continues.''

Fred lifted the newspaper from his lap. In his other hand he held a submachine pistol. ''And you two are its next residents.''