Pegasus Harold
Dunbury
Chapter
#1
Even though I was only twenty-four years of age, my life was reaching
its climax. I was steadily moving up in the ranks of the Illuminati
under the tutelage of my teacher, Lord Croft. More importantly,
however, I was going to propose to his beautiful and intelligent
daughter, Lara, in December.
One morning as we were fencing in the spacious halls of Croft Manor,
Lord Croft looked unusually pale and nervous. I knew something was
wrong and that his mind was somewhere else. I disarmed him with
a simple move, snapping him back to reality. "Lord Croft, what
is the matter?" I asked.
"The Illuminati is the matter. They are closer now than ever
before to discovering the Triangle of Light. I have been thinking
about this matter for some time now… I cannot let them find
it, for they will commit great evils with the godly power that the
triangle can grant its possessor. Next week, the Illuminati is sending
an expedition to investigate a report from one of our agents in
Kazakhstan. They think the agent, Manfred Powell, may have discovered
the location of the Clock of Ages."
"You have always told me that the clock is the key to finding
the Triangle of Light. You aren't planning to steal the clock are
you?"
"You have always been my most trusted adviser and confidant."
He said, his gaze turning from me to the floor.
I braced myself as he asked me to assist him with stealing the clock,
as the Illuminati could be very violent. I had prayed never to be
confronted with this decision. I wasn't about to sacrifice everything;
my position, my family, and Lara. But, of course, I admitted sadly,
the fate of mankind was more important than a few insignificant
people, let alone one.
"Which is why I cannot ask you to assist me with this. If I
die, Lara will be hurt very deeply. If both of us die, she may never
recover. And I cannot ask you to sacrifice your life. Where as me,"
he looked past me reminiscing sadly, "my life is nearly over."
Despite my relief at Lord Croft's response, I knew what was right
had to be done. "Sir, I care very deeply for Lara but you have
always taught me that I have a duty to other people that I must
fulfill… at any cost." I said, my voice trailing off.
"Well," he said with a gloomy look in his eyes, "lets
just hope that Manfred Powell was mistaken."
Chapter #2
Several days prior to the trip to Kazakhstan, I took Lara out to
dinner at a romantic restaurant in London. Sitting on the balcony
overlooking the Thames River, I caressed her bare shoulder, mesmerized
the same way I had been the first time Lord Croft introduced me
to her.
I yearned to tell Lara goodbye. Lord Croft had forced me to vow
to never tell her anything about Kazakhstan. If he and I were discovered
by the Illuminati to be traitors, we would surely be executed. Lara
would certainly be in danger if she knew anything.
I slipped Lara's shawl on her shoulders as the waiter brought our
check. Lord Croft had counseled me to behave as I always do. It
was a dreadful thing to do. I wanted to tell Lara goodbye and I
hated deceiving the one I love, though it was for her own safety.
"Is something wrong?" she queried as she ducked her head
into the car.
I shut her door and got into the car. My voice cracked as I said,
"No, nothing is the matter. What gave you that impression,
dear?"
"Your eyes betray you. You gaze at me as if you are making
a very detailed portrait of me in your mind," she paused, thoughtful,
"as if you won't see me again for a long time."
I laughed as I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. I looked
into her eyes and said, "That is the way I always look at you."
I savored the time between Lara and I on the way to Croft Manor.
I kept staring at her, memorizing everything I could about her;
her passionate dark green eyes flecked with a warm yellow, her bright
smile, her confident voice projecting her thoughts to me.
I learned a valuable lesson. I had always taken Lara and the time
we had together for granted. We had always had all the time in the
universe but now, time was running out. I swore to myself that I
would always cherish the experiences Lara and I shared in the future,
if we were allowed that time.
Chapter #3
The Illuminati had been working for centuries to find the Triangle
of Light and now, with the planetary alignment only two years away,
they were getting desperate. Lord Croft realized that if he was
killed, the Illuminati would most certainly search Croft Manor,
with or without Lara's permission, for materials regarding the Clock
of Ages.
I agreed to take Lara to Berlin to see a performance of several
Bach string concertos while Lord Croft purged his personal study
of notes and research on the Clock of Ages. He informed me that
he would somehow leave the information and notes intact so that
someday his dream to destroy the Clock of Ages might be realized.
On the flight to Berlin, Lara and I discussed the music of Bach.
While I preferred the heavy music of Romantic composers, she enjoyed
the clarity and lightness of baroque and especially classical music.
She always said I was more in love with the glorious cadenzas of
Rachmaninov and the elaborate melodies of Ravel and Prokofiev than
I was with her. I would always laugh and assure her that was only
true because that music reminded me of her.
As the stewardess handed Lara and myself our drinks, I checked my
watch. "I have made arrangements to take care of transportation
for the day. I think we will be arriving in Berlin shortly. We can
explore the city if you wish."
She sighed and said, "I love traveling in Europe. Everything
you see seems like it is from a dream or a fairy tale. Great cities
where people lived and worked, majestic castles where kings and
queens lived happily ever after," she winked at me. "And,"
"Every story has a happy ending…" A tear rolled down
my cheek, which I quickly brushed away, hoping Lara hadn't noticed.
Lara pulled my palm away from my face. She could see the tears glistening
in my pale gray eyes. She took my hand in hers and said, with a
tear of her own, "I hope you know that you can trust me with
anything. I will never betray you to anybody."
Through watery sobs, I kissed her knuckle, pitying her and myself
for the cruel trick that Fate has played on us. "Oh Lara, I
always took you for granted. We always had all of the time in the
world to be together."
"Lara," I paused, drying my eyes on a handkerchief, "if
there is anything you learn from me, I want it to be to savor life.
Enjoy each and every experience, those that are sweet and even those
that are bitter. I know it is inappropriate to talk about these
things, but your father is an elderly man. You won't have forever
to talk to him, have that cup of tea together, and," I chuckled
softly, "recall all of those embarrassing stories from your
youth."
Lara gazed at me with a worried look on her face. "You have
never spoken to me like this before. Is there something troubling
you?"
"No," a bright smile blossoming on my face, "I just
don't want to waste any more time." As Lara watched me mystified,
I dug a small box out of my pocket and opened it, saying, "Lara,
will you marry me?" She gasped.
On the return flight to England, I noticed Lara doze off. I took
advantage of the opportunity to call Lord Croft. After about a dozen
rings, Lord Croft finally answered the phone. "Lord Croft,
are all of the preparations done?" I whispered.
"Yes," he replied. "I busied the servants with work
for this evening while I cleaned out my study." Looking around
to make certain he was alone, Lord Croft whispered, "Did you
propose to Lara?"
Trembling with excitement, I said, "Yes. She agreed!"
I saw Lara's serene features break into a smile.
Later that evening, Lara and I announced our engagement to all of
Lara's relatives and friends. We set the date of the wedding to
be about two months from the present date.
* * * * *
The next day, Lord Croft spent the day with Lara. However, we were
all going to have dinner at 7:00 in the evening before our departure
to Kazakhstan the next day. Lara knew we were both going somewhere,
but where she did not know.
I took the time to clean out my own study. Lord Croft advised me
to destroy anything that I had because most of my research was included
in his notes. I decided the paper shredder was not enough and always
a conscious-minded environmentalist; I had my gardener compost the
shredded papers in the garden. I was heartbroken at seeing all of
the research I had labored over into the late hours of so many countless
evenings be destroyed.
I purged the memory of my computer and destroyed the floppy disks,
crushing them under the sharp edges of my Italian dress shoes. I
picked up the broken bits of plastic and metal and threw them into
the fireplace.
I felt very awkward drafting my will. I had never thought that I
would die at such a young age. I made a list of different valuables
I owned and became annoyed that I had never shared the wealth with
which I was blessed. I decided to leave my rather large estate to
the London Historical Society for them to use as a museum if they
wished. I decided to donate my art collection - mostly Baroque German
paintings - to an art organization in Frankfurt, Germany. The artifacts
I had collected in my travels with Lord Croft I left to Lara, hoping
to spark in her a passion for archaeology, and I left various personal
affections to my family members. I wrote checks for large monetary
donations to various charities and universities. Of course, those
wouldn't be given out unless I died.
If I lived through the hardships to come, I decided I would make
donations to charities more often. As the butler came into the room,
I hastily put my will away as he placed a tray laden with a kettle
of tea and a cup and saucer down on the corner of my desk.
"Your tea, Sir," he said in his dull, nasal voice.
"Thank you." I said dryly. I had missed my last butler
ever since he suffered a stroke last August. The new butler, Quincy,
did his duties well but not much beyond that. He was not as good
a listener as old Wilson.
What a gloomy day, I thought. It was typical English weather - a
pale gray sky filled with menacing storm clouds. As I put the finishing
touches on my will, I heard a loud crash of thunder. Impeccable
timing, I murmured.
Walking down the hall to my bedroom, I sipped at my tea. Just the
way I liked it, sweet. Digging my travel bag out of the closet,
I placed various items into the bag. I took my personal journal
(it looking a lot thinner with all of the missing pages pertaining
to the Clock of Ages) and slipped it into a side pocket.
Checking to make sure no one was around, I took an automatic pistol
and holster out of a locked filing cabinet. I cleaned the sleek
weapon with a handkerchief, making sure that the handle was not
oily. I grimaced as I packed extra ammunition - things might get
ugly in Kazakhstan. God, I prayed, please do not make me have to
use this.
When dealing with a group like the Illuminati, you have to use brutal
tactics. No mercy. I shuddered at the demented irony of the situation.
Lord Croft and I would have to sink to the sadistic level of brutality
of the Illuminati to subdue them.
But I was prepared to confront the Illuminati and the Triangle.
Lord Croft had always taught me that the Triangle of Light was a
great power that could seduce even the most contented man. And he
warned me that the Triangle held a power that was worthy of only
one, God.
Finally, I packed my long, thin cutlass-like sword and scabbard
into the bag. One tradition of the Illuminati was sword fighting.
They prided themselves on their graceful sword play and their rigid
code of honor. I packed some other items and wiped my brow, finished.
Chapter #4
Due to the Illuminati's security protocols, my driver, Mr. Carlson,
could not accompany me to the secluded airstrip where the Illuminati
was preparing. As I drove through the tall, concrete walls, I noticed
guards dressed in black jumpsuits armed with automatic assault rifles.
They all had laser sights clipped to their weapons, with extra magazines
and grenades clipped to their belts. I noticed with increased anxiety
that most of them also had shotguns strapped to their backs. They
all had walkie-talkies, too.
The Illuminati obviously spared no expense on this operation; they
did not wish to risk losing the Clock of Ages. Which means they
will do anything to get it…
A guard waved me to stop. Pushing the safety button to off on his
high-powered rifle, he tapped on my window and pointed to a parking
lot. I saw him whisper something into his headset.
Almost immediately after I parked, several guards flanking an Illuminati
lieutenant approached me. I slowly got out of the car.
"Ah," the big man roared, motioning the guards to lower
their weapons, "It is Lord Croft's young apprentice. Search
the car." One man waved a small scanner over the car. Another
man snatched the keys from my outstretched hand and got in the Mercedes.
"No scratches, now!" I shouted. The guard looked up at
as if he were a gorgon.
The other guards who searched the car now pointed their rifles at
me. A tall, brown-haired man waved a metal detector over me. He
took my automatic pistol with its ammunition. The Illuminati lieutenant
took the weapon from the guard's hand, whistling. They put the spare
ammunition, my boot knife, and travel bag into a tin suitcase.
I started to mutter something to Lieutenant Weller. "Where?"
He laughed. "You'll get your luggage when we arrive in Kazakhstan."
He had kept my gun, looking at the sleek weapon. "With all
these weapons and ammunition, what are you planning to do? Start
some sort of war?" He gave the weapon to the guards who added
it to the tin suitcase and lugged it away.
I smiled weakly, "Something like that."
After wandering around for a few minutes, I noticed Lord Croft had
arrived and was speaking to one of the Illuminati mechanics working
on one of the three planes. I saw Lord Croft stuff a check into
the young man's hand.
As the two men were obviously planning something, I decided I should
wait to approach them. I reached into my pocket and withdrew my
personal journal. I reread the false notes and mentally rehearsed
the plan Lord Croft and I had conceived to steal the Clock of Ages.
In our research, we concluded to our relief that the location was
probably not the site of the clock. Despite that, we were not taking
any chances.
A few minutes later, Lord Croft looked up and spotted me. Patting
the mechanic on the back, he started walking toward me. We started
talking about the temple and discussing the men on this expedition.
The supervisor, Lieutenant Weller, was a former Russian captain.
He seemed to be rather incompetent, but that was a trick of his.
He believed underestimation was a powerful weapon. We were unfamiliar
with most of the soldiers. Unfortunately, we did know the man in
charge of the troops. Sergeant Clarkson was a former colonel with
the American Marines Corps who had been convicted of brutal war
crimes in Vietnam.
I muttered 'speak of the devil' as Lieutenant Weller briskly walked
toward us. "We are boarding the planes now. You two are on
Blackhawk 1."
"What jet are you on, Lieutenant?" Lord Croft inquired,
his voice rising.
"I," his voice growing irritated at Lord Croft's lack
of military finesse, "am flying in Blackhawk 3!"
"And Sergeant Clarkson?" I asked quaintly.
"Sergeant Clarkson will be in Blackhawk 2. What does this information
matter to you?" Lieutenant Weller asked suspiciously.
"I wished to know whose company I would be enjoying on the
flight. It is nineteen hours to Kazakhstan, I believe." I replied,
cutting Lord Croft off.
Chapter #5
In the cramped interior of the jet sat a dozen Illuminati soldiers
plus Lord Croft and myself. I was not looking forward to the nineteen-hour
flight. At this point, all I wanted to do was get to Kazakhstan
and accomplish our goal and then get home to Lara as quickly as
I could. Nineteen hours to think about what might happen in Kazakhstan
was not a pleasant prospect.
Minutes after we took off, I took a sleeping pill and fell into
a restless sleep. I woke up to find that we had landed in Kazakhstan.
I put on my hat and exited the jet closely behind Lord Croft. Feeling
disoriented and dizzy from the flight, I looked around, shielding
my eyes from the cruel sun of Kazakhstan. I felt as if the rays
of light penetrated into my soul, illuminating (I grimaced at the
choice of words my mind chose) the dark crevices, exposing my secrets,
my fears, to the world. We were inside a small fort with tall concrete
walls topped with barbed wire. I noticed a red hammer and sickle
on the side of a fuel truck. The Illuminati had connections all
over the world.
Minutes after the cargo holds of the jets had been emptied; Lieutenant
Weller approached us, his shirt saturated with sweat. With a strain
of weariness in his voice he pointed to a building and said, "You
two are in Barracks 3. Don't get too settled in though. Tomorrow,
we head out to a campsite the Soviets have prepared for us near
the ruins."
In the barracks we were assigned to, I immediately took off my suit
and changed into a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Also
in the tiny building were eight Illuminati soldiers. I tried to
strike up a conversation with a burly German, but he remained unresponsive
to my queries.
In the middle of the night, I woke up in a cold sweat. I had a dream
that Lord Croft and I had the Triangle of Light, but the Illuminati
had Lara and they threatened to kill her if we didn't surrender
the triangle. Of course, we had refused to do so. I remember vomiting
as Lara's blood stained the pristine white sand of the desert.
I fell back to sleep hours later only to be awakened fifteen minutes
later by a baggy eyed Lord Croft. I could tell he had not gotten
very much sleep either. "You had better get some breakfast
before we head out to the ruins."
"I do not think I can bring myself to eat at a time like this."
I replied groggily.
"I am feeling sick to my stomach thinking about the future,
but still I know that I must be prepared for whatever may happen.
So I will eat."
After we ate a breakfast consisting of milk and cold oatmeal, we
set out for the ruins. The ruins were the remains of a city built
by a group of natives about two thousand years ago. Lord Croft and
I did not believe that this was the location of the Clock of Ages.
In truth, we suspected that the clock was somewhere in Iceland or
Cambodia.
It took several hours for the Soviet trucks to drive the 150 kilometers
to the ruins. When we arrived, we found that the Soviets had already
set up a camp. I noticed Soviet soldiers in desert-colored uniforms
patrolling the barbed wire fence.
Lieutenant Weller approached a tall, dark-haired Russian officer.
"Comrade!" he shouted, embracing the officer. "What
progress have your men made?" he asked.
The Russian officer, Major Pakmanov, replied in a low, gruff voice,
"My men have been digging for days. One of them died of heat
exhaustion. How sure are you that this is the correct location?"
"Major Pakmanov," Lieutenant Weller said, motioning Lord
Croft and I to come over, "this is Henshingly Croft and his
apprentice, our archaeological experts on this enterprise. If you
have any questions regarding the Triangle of Light, please ask them."
Wiping his sweaty brow with a soiled handkerchief, Major Pakmanov
inquired in a deadly tone, "I hope all of our work was not
in vain." And with that menacing statement, he returned to
supervising the troops digging in the pit.
I looked around at the sandy dunes. If Manfred Powell had not told
the Soviets the precise location, they might never have found the
ruins. There were no traces of the great civilization that once
thrived. I wondered how such an awesome city could have perished
without a trace. This thought made my life and struggles seem very
insignificant.
Lord Croft and I headed out toward one of the several huge tents
and threw our things inside. We had barely settled into our temporary
home (hopefully!) when we heard excited cries from outside. Rushing
outside, we saw that Major Pakmanov's crew had broken through into
the ruins.
Lieutenant Weller immediately appeared and snapped, "Major,
my men will handle this project from here. The Illuminati greatly
appreciates your assistance."
"Wait one moment. Are you trying to tell me that the Soviet
Army did all of this work and that you will not share with us the
spoils of our fortune?" Major Pakmanov replied.
Lieutenant Weller, who had turned as if to leave, suddenly whirled
around and venomously sneered, "My men are trained to do this
sort of work. And I certainly do not want your Soviet soldiers pillaging
the site!" He then shouted over to Sergeant Clarkson, who was
sitting on a dune polishing his rifle, "Sergeant, I want your
men to get in there and finish the excavation."
Sergeant Clarkson started rapping orders, stirring the entire camp
into a ruckus. The Illuminati soldiers began prying open large,
wooden crates and organizing their equipment.
Several hours later, the men working diligently underground tunneled
to the location of the temple that Manfred Powell claimed held the
Clock of Ages. As Lord Croft and I hurried to the temple, I felt
very afraid. It was as if before the awful truth that Lord Croft
and I could die had not sunk in until now. I never really could
comprehend that this could be the end.
An Illuminati soldier led us to the sealed entrance to the temple
where there stood Sergeant Clarkson and Lieutenant Weller. Lieutenant
Weller, hardly able to contain his glee, shook Lord Croft's hand
and said, "It is a glorious feeling to see one's labors bear
fruit."
"If you make too much noise, you'll make the tunnel fall down
'round us!" Sergeant Clarkson shouted none too softly.
"Hypocrite." Lieutenant Weller mumbled.
"My men told me they couldn't get his door open and that's
when Weller told me to halt my men. He said, 'get the experts you
fool!'" Sergeant Clarkson continued.
Lord Croft kneeled down on the floor and began studying the intricate
symbols engraved on the stone slab that served as a door. "Fascinating,"
he said softly.
"Croft," Lieutenant Weller urged, "hurry it up."
Sergeant Clarkson, in apparent disregard for his own precautions,
rounded up a group of men and began hammering the door with pickaxes.
For a moment, my hope soared. Perhaps God has pitied us! They can't
get through that door without collapsing the tunnel.
I saw Lord Croft smile as he blew some dust off of his dark hat.
Anger began welling up inside the supervisor of the project at Sergeant's
Clarkson's risk, and he finally spat between clenched teeth, "Cease
this!"
After another fifteen minutes of study, Lord Croft and I finally
figured out how to get inside the temple. Using crowbars and chisels,
the Illuminati soldiers pried the massive stone slab out of the
path of my probable doom.
Chapter #6
