For Your Eyes
Only
Dorothea
Bannerman-Bruce
The trees look beautiful this time of year,
as a cold chill blows through them, and you feel the first glimmer of the dawn
sun in the canopy above. There’s a deep peace in this place - a connection to
something old and ancient, as you have glimpses of old rites in praise of
goddesses, held in long forgotten clearings. Bob is there beside you, wagging
his tail and sniffing the air, as you climb up the steep slope towards the top
of the hill. Funny, you’ve never really seen him as a dog before - in fact
you’ve never really seen him at all, and you find
this is slightly unnerving. Nonetheless, you keep walking up the slope as
the dawn sun starts to impose its presence against the dark shaded trees. You
sense a shadow pass over the sun, and as you touch one of the trees, you notice
that your hand comes away sticky, wet, and warm. In the dawn light you see your
hand is covered in blood, and as you start desperately looking around, you hear
the wails of machine gun fire and death. The stink of rotting corpses starts to
become suffocating around you, and the trees seem to weep for the fallen. You
look down and see what remains of Bob, bleeding from what looks like a stab
wound in his side. Without hesitation you pull out a candle and draw a circle of
light around you - like you’ve done so many times before, and raise the light in
a cone around you,with Bob inside, safe but badly injured. You set yourself
against the dark as it takes the form of hands pushing up from the earth -
thousands of them, tens of thousands - all around you, shambling frames pushing
their weight against your little cone of light.
In the distance you hear a woman’s voice call to you “Dorothea… Dorothea... They have taken my
light, my pretty light, and now I will take yours.” The cone slowly collapses
under the weight of the dead…
Your sheets are
covered in sweat and you find yourself stifling a scream as you look around
shaking, bolt upright in your bed. It was that same dream again, every night for
the last three days the same events have played out, and every night you awake
in the cold darkness, surrounded by the memory. The preceding weeks have kept
you busy, never has your talent been so sought after, as customers seem to come
out of nowhere. Some are serious, whilst others give you the feeling that they
are merely entertaining themselves at your expense - but the money is good.
However, you haven’t
been able to shake off certain feelings of being watched, being observed. Bob
has been unusually silent recently. He has enacted out his duty to you to the
letter, but you feel that things have changed between you, with a certain sorrow
that wasn’t there before.
Strange things have
been happening recently, too many to be coincidence. Your recent readings have
all tended to include certain similar patterns, despite the overall pattern
being different for each customer. When you have read the cards yourself
regarding your dreams you quite clearly get the pattern of sudden change and
challenge, but key are the cards of the Mage (indicating new strength,
self-determination, readiness to take risks), the Empress reversed (indicating
stagnation, upheaval), and Strength (grasped opportunity) linked with the moon
reversed (fear of over stepping boundaries, failure of nerve). You feel that you
are repeatedly obtaining someone else’s reading, and that your true fate lies
behind this.
The spirits have been
well behaved mostly, though a few nights ago you awoke to see the figure of a
German soldier, dressed in a uniform from the Great War, staring at you before
saying something you couldn’t quite hear before he disappeared. You felt a great
deal of sadness in his voice. Bob (who most certainly insists he is not a dog
nor ever has been) says that this German is a new friend of his, and he wants to
help guide him to peace but there is too much darkness.
You spend the some of
the night reading a book about ancient Celtic customs and Diana the Huntress,
though little of it seems to be sinking it, and you find yourself re-reading
passages you are certain you have read elsewhere. You write the dream down in
your diary, before a dose of laudanum helps off to a thankfully dreamless sleep.
In the morning you are
awoken by a knock on the door, the landlady has bought you a smartly dressed
gentleman in a military uniform. He waits to be asked in, and then shows you
identification documents naming him as Lance-Corporal Montague, before taking a
very firm and fixed posture - arms behind back, chest out. He tells you that
your presence has been requested by Royal Command at his barracks at three
o’clock this afternoon, which he points is in exactly 3 hours and 20 minutes,
and that he has been instructed to escort you there himself. You get the
impression that while he would not force the issue, he has an utmost expectation
that you were to come with him, and as he had not moved a muscle since stepping
into your rooms, you think he may never do so again unless you accede to his
request.
In a slightly
surprising and swift move he pulls out an envelope from his top pocket and hands
it to you - it is full of money, you count 5 guineas worth. As he stares in what
is becoming a quite unnervingly fixed stare at you, he states that he trusts
this will be a more convincing argument, although the opportunity to serve King
and Country should be more than enough, you feel his eyes bore quite
disconcertingly into you…
Minutes later you find
yourself in a car, envelope of money in one hand, telegram in the other, being
driven rather fast through the streets of
“Miss Bannerman-Bruce,
my name is Major Adams - thank you for coming with us. I shall cut to the chase,
we need your talents for a mission, one that is going to involve a number of
specialists from a number of different backgrounds. In short, His Majesty’s
Government wishes to employ you into its service to investigate certain
activities that are causing us some concern. We will ensure you are well paid
and looked after, either on a one-off basis or a longer term. If you are
interested then I must first ask you to sign this document binding you to keep
secret anything you hear from now on. Of course we would like to give you time
to think this over, but unfortunately we have none.”
The car pulls over to
the side of the road.
You pick up the pen…
and sign the document.
“Let us toast our new
partnership” announces Major Adams, pouring a couple of drinks from a decanter.
You sip the drink as the car pulls off into the outskirts of
You awaken in what appears to be an airfield.
You notice the high security surrounding
the place. Dog patrols pace their way about the perimeter, and 2 tall
observation towers look down upon you. Lance-Corporal Montague opens the car
door and apologises for drugging you. He then directs you towards the location
of the meeting.
You enter a room designated as ‘BRIEFING’ with some trepidation and take a seat.
Hushed whispers are being exchanged by some of the assembled people here, but
these are quickly ended as an authoritative voice booms behind you, “For those
of you that don’t know me, my name is Major Frederick Adams” The Major strides
towards the front of the room and takes his place behind a lectern. “Most of you
won’t know why you are here. I will now explain why it has been necessary to
take extreme measures to bring you here.”
“Lights” The Major orders to a man at the back of the room. A second later, the
lights are dimmed, and your attention is drawn towards a screen to the side of
the Major. Another officer hands you a dossier, and switches on a small reading
light in front of you.
“Recently, one of our operatives in
Mein Fuhrer,
The first results of Project
Uber-Mensch are very encouraging. We have conducted a number of field tests, and
save for a few difficulties that we must iron out, I believe that we are nearing
successful completion of the project. It will bring to the end seven years of
effort – seven years well spent when you consider the superiority it will give
us over anyone who stands in our way. I will of course keep you informed of any
progress.
Glory to the Fatherland.
“For a while, we have suspected that the Germans have been up to something. And
now we know. Or rather we don’t know. For those of you who don’t speak German, ‘Uber-Mensch’
translates as ‘Super-soldier’. What is ‘Project Super-Soldier’? Why are the
Germans in
“Given the time critical nature of this mission, you will be flying out at 1100
hours. We would have preferred to go at night, but there is a scheduled civilian
flight over the area which we will take the place of in order to not raise
suspicion. If you read the second document in your dossier, you will see that
the area of
“A note to the civilians amongst you - you are expected to follow the orders of
the officer in charge at all times and obey the chain of command. You have of
course, all signed the Official Secrets Act prior to this briefing, so I do not
need to remind you that everything you witness during the course of this mission
is NOT to be disclosed to anyone outside Pegasus Division on penalty of the
harshest consequences. One final thing – due to the nature of the situation,
Central Command has designated this as a ‘Damocles Imperative’ mission - that is
a mission which could have worldwide ramifications.”
“That is all, ladies and gentlemen. Good luck and God Speed. God save the King.”
The lights go back on, and you are led out of the room to a bunkhouse.
The evening
meal is a strange affair. There is a marked difference between the civilians,
such as yourself, and the members of the armed forces. You and your peers are
subdued, probably as you contemplate what lies ahead, whilst the military
personnel have an excited buzz about them. You keep pretty much to yourself
during the meal, but at the end, Lieutenant Savage approaches you and introduces
himself. His confident manner and assuredness is somewhat comforting, and the
aching in your stomach subsides.
After the
meal, the soldiers make themselves busy preparing for the mission. You and the
other civilians are led into a training room to learn how to parachute. This was
never on the menu! The session is lead by Sergeant Johnson, an infectiously
enthusiastic man – although you are slightly worried that parachuting boils down
to jumping out of a plane and hoping for the best!
The rest of the evening is your own, and you decide that your time will be best
spent getting a bit of sleep. In truth though, the events of the past 24 hours
make it almost impossible. However, it seems as if your head has barely touched
the pillow before you are woken by a private with a nice hot cup of tea. You
dress quickly – the air is cold this morning and makes the hairs on the back of
your neck stand on end. The morning consists of a final briefing on the ‘theatre
of operations’, and then the call comes in that the mission is ‘GO’. Once
everyone is ready, you are lead out onto the airstrip where a twin-engined plane
is warming up on the runway. Major Adams stands by the door, and gives each of
you a sturdy handshake and a “Good Luck” as you board the plane. Sergeant
Johnson makes sure that everyone is strapped in tightly before heading to the
cockpit. As he returns and fastens his own seatbelt, the low hum of the engines
increases in pitch and you feel the aircraft begin to edge forward. The plane
speeds up and then suddenly you feel the ground drop away as you become
airborne. You glance around you – your comrades seem to be either deep in
contemplation, sleeping or praying. The hours pass, and you find the drone of
the engines strangely hypnotic and relaxing.
You are woken from your reverie by a harsh buzz, and a red light illuminates
above the aircraft door. The army personnel unstrap themselves, and then
Sergeant Johnson sets about releasing everyone else. Before you rise out of your
seat, he clips you onto a guy-line that runs towards the door. Once everyone is
safely attached to the line, he pulls the door handle, and opens the cabin to
the cold rushing air outside. Your breath is taken away by the conditions
outside, as the Lieutenant performs one last check. The buzz sounds again, and
the light turns to green.
“This is it chaps. Good luck!” He pats the first in line on the shoulder, and
one by one they all throw themselves out of the plane. You feel a tap on your
shoulder, and look out of the door at the horizon. The sun is already beginning
to set. You jump out into the cold unknown…