CHAPTER EIGHTEENMarch of the CadetsDennis Hodges woke with a start, his head pounding fiercely.‘Dear Lord, stop yer drummin’ in me noggin',’ he said to the ceiling. A cool breeze whipped across his face, and he relished the moment. Then he heard the rumble of thunder.‘Couldn’t ’ave shut me bedroom window,’ he said, opening an eye. Then he saw the black, nebulous clouds overhead. ‘Couldn’t ’ave made it home, either.’After helping Albert and Maud load the transmitters into the back of the Metro, Dennis had decided to treat himself to a Cinder’s Cider or two. Problem was, when Hodges talked about two, he usually meant jugs. In a way, he felt it was a minor celebration given that the immediate danger had passed with the transmitters now safely in their possession.He risked sitting up, his hands grasping the surface supporting his large frame. He felt wooden slats against his palms; recognising where he was immediately since he often found his way to this place when out on a nig
CHAPTER NINETEENBattle Beneath the EarthThe doors to the school hall clicked open, those guarding the interior moving to one side to allow their comrades access.The captives inside the hall groaned with fear and dismay as they watched twenty children file into the hall and line up facing them.Agnes couldn’t believe when she saw Thomas Beecham among them, and even Edna Duffy was officially lost for words as twenty MP40s trained on the crowd in the middle of the hall.Marcus Macbeth walked into the hall and addressed those cowering before the guns.‘You are the first to bear witness to the New Reich! Weep if you must, kneel to your God, but today is for the young. Today is for the Reich!’Marcus turned to his comrades and lifted his arm. ‘On my command, open fire!’***‘Oh, this is starting to annoy me,’ Patience said sternly to the big man barring their way. ‘Haven’t you people got anything better to do than take over the world and make a general nuisance of yourselves?’T
EPILOGUEThe Vague HorizonBeatrice stared at the ocean, the gulls and a few mottled clouds the only things marring an otherwise azure sky.It was three weeks later and, on the surface, life in Dorsal Finn had returned to some semblance of normalcy. This was not much of a surprise given the town was never that far away from the unusual in the first place.Investigations followed, and allegations were made. Fingers pointed, but those in Dorsal Finn shrugged them off. The Blue Thunder Foundation collapsed and Mayor Codd was absolved given the national scale of duplicity that the organisation had managed to orchestrate.Xavier Pontefract had disappeared on the night that the Nazi army had been brought back to life and reacquainted with death. It was an issue for Beatrice knowing her arch nemesis remained at large, yet she knew that he would neither be caught or resurface for some time. But she had more pressing matters to occupy her time.Once the Blue Thunder Foundation had relinqu
PROLOGUEUnlocking EvilThe shop has been in existence for over thirty years, its huge plate glass window a lidless eye gazing out upon an ever changing street. The window has watched a country turn into something quite unrecognisable—quite incomprehensible. Where there had once been chaos, there is now order. Where there had once been civilisation, there is now only brutality. This is a country that has lost its soul in a quest to find a heart. This is a country in the cold, unyielding grip of Nazi doctrine: cruelty in the name of order.This is Vienna, Austria, 1941.Vienna is now an extension of Nazi Germany, since its annexation by the German army in 1938. A climate of oppression is symbolised all around the plaza; the quiet streets, citizens exiled by the evening curfew. Huge flags are draped from the third floor window of the Heldenplatz; bent, black crosses encircled in white, and languishing on a field of blood red.Swastikas.These flags may flap lazily in the chilly Aus
CHAPTER ONEScream of the SirenThe Elvis bobbed idly on the ocean. The forty-foot fishing boat was owned by skipper Blenheim ‘Cockles’ Cochran. At this moment Cochran paced about his weathered deck, checking lines as he sang along to the beaten-up CD player lashed to the wheelhouse with thick rope.‘You in pain again, skipper?’ a squat, broad-shouldered man with a rosy-red face said, grinning. ‘I can get you somethin’ for it, if you’d like? You need a double dose, I reckon.’‘You’re as funny as chicken pox, Jimbo,’ Cochran replied with a chuckle.‘And you still can’t sing, Skipper,’ First Mate James ‘Jimbo’ Spirehouse said. ‘You’re gonna have to accept that fact some day. Why not do it now and save my sanity?’‘Because the King still sings, you heathen,’ said Cochran, jerking his head towards the speaker as it pumped out ‘Jailhouse Rock’. ‘And you were crazy before you ever set foot on this boat.’ The two men laughed heartily.Half a mile away, the fishing village of Dorsal Fin
CHAPTER TWOLobsters and Liberties‘Ah, Patience! Here is my little Princess of the Nile! How are you this fine morning?’Mr Khaldun Userkaf sipped his coffee, his dark eyes studying his daughter through the mist rising from the brim of his Pharaoh-shaped coffee mug. His sharp, angular features still carried the ghost of his youth and his broad smile was infectious.‘Morning, Poppa,’ Patience said as she tied her long, coal-dark hair into a ponytail. ‘Just a quick status update: I’m fifteen years old, we have no connection to royalty, and the Nile is filthy brown sludge that gives anyone who falls into it raging diarrhoea. You have plans today?’‘Of course,’ her father said, laughing at his daughter’s diatribe. ‘It’s Saturday, and I plan to do nothing!’‘That’ll be the day, Poppa.’Mr Userkaf was renowned for his staunch work ethic. He had been running his travel agency from out of Dorsal Finn for over three decades, and in that time no one in the village could remember him ever
CHAPTER THREEThe Reluctant SecretLucas Walker peddled hard, the surrounding cottages zipping by, the rushing sound of the wind tousling his bleached hair and roaring in his ears. On his back, the bright orange paper-sack was now deflated, empty save for a single copy of the Dorsal Finn Herald.There was a time when the last customer on Lucas’ paper round often left him both nervous and exhilarated. In truth, when Maud Postlethwaite had originally allocated the puzzle-loving Newshound to Mr Miller, Lucas had balked at the idea.‘The guy has weird eyes, Maud,’ he’d protested at the time. ‘It’s like he can see right through me.’‘There ain’t nowt wrong with his eyes, young ’un,’ Maud had replied. ‘’cept they might have seen a little too much, too young, maybe. An’ he can’t be blamed for that, now, can he?’‘I suppose not,’ Lucas had sulked. ‘But the guy’s scary.’‘How he looks isn’t how he is,’ Maud assured him. ‘I wouldn’t be sendin’ ye otherwise, would I?’Lucas had seen enoug
CHAPTER FOURTeenage FBIThe enrolment phase was a swift affair helped by the incredible efficiency demonstrated by the members of The Blue Thunder Foundation. Shrugging off the melancholy air prevalent at the flagpole, the boys and girls—all in their early to mid-teens—were now inside the hut, a huge space painted in blue and white with a stage and lectern at one end. A Blue Thunder pennant secured to the wall spanned the stage, making an imposing backdrop.A series of small tables, numbered one to four, were manned by members of the foundation who made sure that, by the time an enrolee had worked their way to the last table, they were a member of the organisation, equipped with three sets of folded, cellophane-wrapped uniforms and a membership pack. The latter included Marcus’ much lauded Blue Bolt DVD and comic book.‘So what do you think, Beatrice?’ Patience said with a furtive grin.‘About what?’‘Marcus, of course,’ she said, forcing the tone out of her voice in case anyone