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Mister Terrific
Times Past, 1942
Enigma
ENIGMA: Part 1
The year of 1942 saw many things change in beleaguered England. Evacuations and relocations combined with deaths due to bombing and absences due to enlistment robbed many villages of most of their young males; however, even in war, the British love of sport held firm. In the village of Bletchey in Buckinghamshire, two little boys scurried across a field in imagined rugby glories.
The fair haired youth, Paul, turned to his darker friend Brad and said, "This place is dead boring! Nothin' ever happens here!"
Brad grinned. "You won't say that when the Nazi troops come and we have to lead the Home Guard in driving them out!"
Paul frowned. "You're daft! The only thing even close to exciting around here is the Burham Gang!"
Brad grew silent. He didn't like to even think about the group of rough necks who terrorized all of the village.
"Ah, those blokes aren't so much! They should be fightin' Axis like your brother! They just stay here and act tough 'cause of their pull with the local draft board!" he said.
"I bet ya wouldn't say that if 'Bullyboy' was around," he whispered in reference to the beer swigging lout who led the group of thugs.
"He's a right swine, he is! Me sister Amanda can't stand the sight of him. He worries her all the time 'cause he fancies her! And with me old man dead, no one can stop him!" said a pale Brad.
As they kicked a can across the field, the blonde beauty named Amanda Allingham rolled up her sleeves in order to keep her clean white blouse out of the spilled ale she was wiping up in the local pub called Campion's Crest.
"'Manda! Would ya be ever so kind as to refill me pint?" asked a grizzled old man.
The blonde girl turned with a smile as she flounced across the pub with her blonde curls bouncing.
"I think you have had enough, Gramps!" she said.
Before the old man could reply, in came a loud group led by a wiry, dirty man named Swithin.
"Hey, luscious! Leave the geezer and serve me somethin' warm. I'll be seein' Bullyboy later so you better play nice!" he sneered.
Amanda grew pale and tried to serve the thugs as quickly and from as far a distance as possible.
"Sit on me lap, lass!" whined the fat man sitting next to Swithin. Loud laughter rang out through the pub as the gang pulled Amanda off her feet.
"Let the girl go. She clearly doesn't fancy your company. I can't say I blame her!" said a soft spoken blond man who staggered inside covered with dust from a long walk. He spoke softly with a refined and educated manner to his American accent.
"You want to make us, Yank?" sneered Swithin.
The American spun and yanked the wiry thug to his feet with one gesture even as he elbowed the fat friend in the neck.
A swift left hook knocked the dirty Swithin cold as he tripped the fat man and dropped a beer pitcher over his head. "Get out. You shouldn't drink so much anyway!" he said as the crowd stared in awe.
ENIGMA: Part 2
The blond American helped Amanda Allingham up with a gentleness and grace belying by the explosive skill at combat he had just shown. "Are you hurt, Miss Allingham?" he asked.
She smiled her thanks. "No, thank you. How did you know my name?"
"Your family crest on the blouse. I recall the Allingham escutheon from a book I read on heraldry," he said.
"Ah! This? It's a bit of nonsense. We may be related to that noble house, but we certainly lack their money. That's why we take boarders. Would you be looking for a place to stay? You are not from around here, I wager?" she smiled as her eyes danced.
"No. I am from... elsewhere. I could use a place to stay, but I seem to be short on funds. Could I work off the cost of a night or two of room and board?" he asked.
"What are you good at?" she teased.
He spoke with a confidence that was as certain as it was free of any trace of vanity. "I believe I can do many useful things," he replied.
"I'll lead you to our house. I get off at ten. Okay?" she said. He nodded.
The old men were tossing darts and Amanda's grandfather waved him over. "Lad, I saw what ye did for 'Mandy. How about a pint on me?" he asked.
"Thanks. I don't drink, but I'd be glad to sit with you while we wait on Amanda. She is your grandchild?" he said as the darts flew toward a battered target.
"That she is, and a beauty too, eh? Are you single?" he said with a wink.
The American grinned and sat down with the old men. He was not being evasive. He honestly could not answer the question! He recalled things like the Allingham crest or even the style of design of the old pub, but for the life of him, he could not remember his own name or why he was in this village!
He only felt this inner impulse that urged him to fight against a black veil that seemed to close off his mind from something he needed to do that was of vital importance.
"Of national security depending upon you... perhaps the entire war effort itself," seemed to ring in his head in the golden voice of Winston Chruchill himself!
As Amanda joined them with her coat in hand, they prepared to leave.
"Drat! I forgot to leave the darts!" muttered her grandfather.
The American effortlessly picked them up and in mid stride for the door, whirled and sent all four to thud directly in the tiny center of the bullseye on the target.
ENIGMA: Part 3
"What is your name?" asked Amanda as they fluffed the pillows on the cot in the spare room of the rundown Allingham cottage.
"...Campion," replied the blond man.
"Go on! Like the pub, you mean!" giggled Amanda.
"Right, I was teasing, but why not call me that for now?" he replied.
Amanda drew closer and her eyes darted merrily as she whispered in tones of mock delight. "Oooh! Top secret! Need to know basis only, eh?" she said playfully.
"Could you humor me and just accept that answer for now?" he replied.
She nodded and started to walk out when she turned and said perkily, "If you need some help here with whatever it is that brought you all the way from America, then I'm the girl for you! I'd make a proper second in command!"
He shook hands with the girl and said, "I'm sure you would."
He lay back on the cot and fought fatigue and a painful black veil that seemed to smother his memory and theatened to rob him of awareness itself. "I've been hurt. Yet, no swelling, no frontal lob damage. Nothing to indicate concussion around my eyes," he said with the prompt skill and assurance of a medically adapt man.
"Amnesia can be temporary or can last for long durations. I know I need to do something here, but what could it be?" he said as he sat up and put his head in his hands. "Hands strong, yet limber with a musician or sculptor's dexterity, and capable of violence when needed," he noted almost clinically. "Who am I? That question may spell the difference between victory and defeat for the Allies," he said softly as he fought a battle within against his own injured senses.
The next day he walked out to the field where he spotted Brad at play. "Hullo! I hear you saved my sister last night from the Burham mob. That's alright of you!" smiled the boy.
"She is a delight. Any man would be glad to risk all for her," he said.
"Amanda? Yeah, but she can be a bit spoiled at times!" said the brother with all of a brother's assurance that his own sister is not so great.
"What are you doing? Cricket?" asked the man calling himself Campion.
"Righto! How'd ya know? I thought you Yanks couldn't tell cricket from rugby!" said Brad.
"I have played a bit of both in my time. You need to hold the bat a bit higher. Turn your wrist just so..." he said bending down over the boy.
"Cor! You do everything well! Gramps said you made four bullseyes without tryin'! Amanda said you fought like a knight of old!" chimed in a happy Brad.
ENIGMA: Part 4
Campion worked with Brad and Paul the rest of the day, then waited for the evening meal to end before he could really get to work.
Amanda's grandmother smiled as the dashing American guest brought in a dish he had prepared. "Lah! He cooks like a right Chef!" she said.
"I just want to pull my weight. I may be leaving soon. I need to pull myself together and get my job done," he said later as they ate.
Amanda gazed across the table at him between bites. She had a puppy's look of love on her pretty face.
"Amanda, have you any idea about what makes Buckinghamshire special?... aside from your Granny's cooking and your beauty, of course!" he asked suddenly as they walked alone behind the cottage later that evening.
She smiled and said, "You talk like a poet and you seem so good with kids. Brad fairly talked hmself to death braggin' about how you taught him and Paul so much!"
He gazed at the girl and wondered just how old she was? He wondered at his own age too. "Amanda, I most say something. I don't know who I am. I can't..." he began when his keen ears caught the approach of footsteps.
"'Ere now! What's some fancy American doin' with me girl?" croaked a bullnecked thug who appeared from the fields and cracked his knuckles.
"Bullyboy! Oh, no!" cried Amanda.
"Campion" stepped in front of her protectively and said, "I've heard much about you. Your gang thinks it can threaten and bully everyone here about because most men are in the service and your and your pals have connections with the local draft board. That ends here. You stay away from Amanda and leave the rest of the villagers alone, or I'll personally make you regret the sad fate of creation that you were ever born," he said with steely determination.
"Bullyboy" launched himself at the smaller man, only to miss when the American sidestepped and connected with three short, snapped blows.
He danced aside again and clipped the British thug in the nose. As blood spouted, Bullyboy roared and tried to choke the blond. However, with a polish born of years of experience, he dodged and blocked all the thick heavy set man's punches before dropping him cold with one well placed punch.
The thin Swithin and fat Burke watched only to step back when their leader fell to defeat before the blond.
Brad and Paul cheered as did other village lads who gathered and saw the infamous Bullyboy get a sound thrashing.
The two thugs carried off their fallen boss in shame while Amanda embraced "Campion" and kissed him on the cheek. He hesitated for a minute, then kissed her on the lips.
ENIGMA: Part 5
After that sudden, impulsive kiss, he led Amanda back to their first topic. "I was trying to tell you that I can't recall my name. I was hurt somehow. I have no idea who I am or why I can do these things. I just know that I am here for a reason. A question mark! That keeps popping up in my mind. Does that suggest anything to you?" he said holding her.
Amanda thought for a minute. "I don't know who you are and I don't know why you came, but I think you're wonderful! Could you stay here? Could I work with you on this mission? It must involve the Park!"
He froze. "The park? That I don't understand. What park? There is no public park in all of Buckinghamshire."
Amanda smiled up at him adoringly. "Not a park park, silly. A house called Park -- Bletchley Park. We don't know what goes on there, but it is under use by the government. Hush hush stuff, don't you know!"
He grinned. "That has to be it. I can sense that is where I am needed... for some purpose."
Amanda held his hand. "But you think someone hurt you, and you can't remember what it is you need to do at the Park. You could just stay here with us, or let me go scout around there first!"
He shook his head. " 'But all the pleasure that I find is to maintain a quiet mind. My wealth is health and perfect ease; my conscience clear my chief defense; I neither seek by bribes to please, Nor by deceit to breed offense: thus I do live; thus will I die; would all did so as well as I!' That is from Sir Edward Dyer, and in spite of the code of ethics... of fairness that it speaks of, I cannot say I have a quiet mind! I can't recall anything about my mission or my accident, but I must go there and if I fail, then I feel like the Allied cause may well be lost!"
They sat together as night fell, and he fought to free his mind of the mental block that held him a prisoner in a jail far more frustrating to this particular hero than any cell would ever be.
ENIGMA: Part 6
The blond American left Amanda with a promise that he would return shortly. He hiked rapidly toward the famous local landmark Bletchley Park. He thought as he jogged along, That girl is wonderful, but I can't encourage her romantically anymore. I may be married! I may be in a line of work that would make a marriage impossible due to the risks I must take. I already have the vague impression that Churchill himself is counting on me to do something at this Park.
He saw the huge old estate with its tall gates and stately gables. No sign of guards or even activity could he detect. That fence is electrified. I see the wiring. I could deactivate it easily enough, but why not just pole vault over it, he decided.
He did so and approached the manor. Ancient England at its aristocratic best or worse had governed for centuries from homes like this, and he knew in some way the old manor was still vital to the security and well being of the British people. He inches closer to the window nearby, only to be set upon by the gang he had encountered twice before!
Bullyboy wrenched back his neck with brutal hands while the other three or four (he couldn't tell as yet) tried to hold him down.
"We trailed ya, sunny boy! You was so deep in thought that we slipped up on you. We don't need no fancy jumping to get in. We're on staff for his nibs!" sneered Bullyboy.
Campion fought them off and circled warily. These louts were no danger to him, but they were yet another delay from the work he needed to do. He kicked out and caught a new one in the head. A swift jab dropped the ever dirty Swithin.
He flipped the heavy Bullyboy over his shoulder into two others and then connected with fast martial arts moves that left them stunned. As he caught his breath, he heard a sharp whiz sound. He flung himself down as a dart barely missed his head. He rolled to bushy cover and waited.
Three weird figures came out of the house. They looked like images from a nightmare. One was bald and almost palpably brilliant. He was also evil! This was equally clear. A second figure was pale, bald on front, and almost deathly thin. The third was the strangest. He wore a fancy purple suit and tailcoat! He had no face! Or in the dim light it looks that way. He actually wore a white false face that mocked the propriety of the estate with the sheer oddness of the look. He carried a thick cane that obviously had been the source of the lethal dart!
"Campion" heard them address each other. "Moriarity, I fear the Amerikaner has returned!" said the man in purple.
The evil bald man nodded. "Evidently so, Man with the Cane, but what do you detect, Professor Gaunt?"
The man with partially balding head pointed to the shrubs. "He is behind that bush! We have the man we seek. He returned after escaping as I swore he would do!"
The grinning Moriarity said, "Come out, Mr. Sloane. We know you are there!"
Sloane! Terry Sloane! The name appeared in his mind. That's my name... but it is not my only one? he mused in confusion.
ENIGMA: Part 7
Terry Sloane knew he was detected, so he came out with his hands raised.
"Excellent! I knew you were smart when you beat Professor Gaunt in his effort to take over your mind. None of the other gifted minds assembled here to crack the Enigma and other Nazi codes were able to resist him. You not only resisted his efforts to control you, but you even fought your way to freedom!" smiled Moriarity.
Gaunt frowned. "Bah! He merely caught me off guard!"
The masked Man with the Cane spoke in his harsh gutteral German accent. "You failed to master his briliant mind. Admit it. Still, we have him back, eh? He and the rest shall remain here and report only the false data we supply them to their military leaders. No one shall know the Enigma code breakers were in turn broken by us, eh?"
Terry's mind reeled. The Bletchley Park manor was used for Allied think-tankers as a base from which to decode Nazi messages via the Enigma machine! He had been asked to help them. He arrived and found all of them under the control of Axis agent Man with the Cane's employee Professor Gaunt! He had resisted, escaped, and been left with amnesia!
Even now, his mind was becoming clearer. The probe by the telepathic Gaunt outside the estate had broken down the amnesia. He was not just Terry Sloane! Although he had concealed it from these thugs, he was Mr. Terrific! He walked within the lush manor while the three leaders followed.
"Leave Bullyboy and his thugs outside. They little suspect they are serving the Axis powers. They merely think they are doing security for the very British Professor Moriarity!" said Gaunt.
Moriarity smiled coldly. "I was among the first experts asked to work here. I quickly smuggled in Gaunt and together we took control of the experts and offered to sell them to Nazi agent Man with the Cane. He refused and proposed we keep them here and feed false data to the Allies."
Terry Sloane knew the false data could lead to a crippling of Allied efforts that Churchill feared. He had been sent to decode the messages and investigate the code breakers for reliability. Now, he knew all. He just had to stop them. Enough was enough!
ENIGMA: Part 8
Terry allowed them to place him in a chair. He sat there and wondered what to do. Could he resist a second mind control attempt by Professor Gaunt? If so, he could trick them all, but if he failed to resist he would be a pawn of the three madmen!
He steeled himself as they circled him. As before Gaunt positioned himself in front and stared down at him with intense almost glowing eyes.
"Now, Mr. Sloane, we shall try once more. Surrender your will to me. Relax. Do not fight. All will be well for you if you obey!" he intoned.
The Man with the Cane watched with no visible expression upon his masked face. Moriarity looked the very picture of his infamous ancestor who had battled Sherlock Holmes before! The genius math master turned Nazi was a deadly force in his own right.
Sloane thought of Amanda. He knew now that he had no other romantic attachment, but he also wondered if the bright girl could fit into his life of peril.
ENIGMA: Part 9
That answer came as glass shattered on the far side of the room. Amanda stood outside with Paul and Brad as they hurled stones through the window.
"Now, Mr. Sloane, we shall try once more. Surrender your will to me. Relax. Do not fight. All will be well for you if you obey!" he intoned.
Terry heard a crash and saw stone fly into the glass window across the room. The three men rushed to investigate.
"Bah! Without the local mob for security, we must do everything!" said Moriarity.
Terry saw his chance and took it. He smashed the chair over Moriarity's bald pate and jumped high in the air to swing across the room on the tinkling chandelier. He dropped one on Professor Gaunt's back and used a swift jab to a pressure point to knock him cold.
"Can't use those hypnotic eyes if I stay behind you!" he said as he shoved the stunned villain down.
He saw the Man with the Cane usher Amanda, Paul, and Brad into the room. "These brats broke the window--" he began as he gasped at the sight of his allies beaten.
Amanda cheered and the boys yelled a warning, "Look out!"
He ducked a dart fired from the cane by the masked Nazi. "You can't stop an American with a corny prop like that!" he laughed.
He faced the Man with the Cane in the silent manor house. "I fought Superman! I find you to be no challenge!" he said.
"You lost as well, I believe! Cowardly terrorists always lose when brave people fight for ideas and their nation!" he declared.
"The girl! I will shoot her down where she stands if you do not surrender!" said the Nazi.
Amanda stood firm and said, "Don't let him stop you!"
Terry knew his timing was crucial, so he acted. Just as he had in the pub, he tossed one of the darts that had missed him back at the cane-waving masked man. The projectile blocked the cane's opening perfectly, and Terry was on the Nazi before he could react. He slugged him and ripped off the mask.
"Amazing! The mask looks just like your real face! Features artificial and distorted!" he said.
The Man with the Cane (actually without the cane to be exact) said, "Yes! My face was ruined in a battle with another American hero -- Tex Thompson. I owe him much for my pain." He wrestled free of Sloane and ran for the door.
Terry smiled as he gave chase. Now it all seemed so natural to him. He had done this kind of thing before! He tackled the Axis agent with the same form and skill he had displayed years before as an Olympian. He said, "Tragedy is not something that has to turn a man against society. You could have chosen to work within the society which rejected you to bring about changes that would have aided all."
He slammed the Nazi's head against the floor and stood back up. "With Gaunt beaten, I can restore the minds of the other experts, and crack the enigma code. I've had a few ideas regarding it since I first got here. I don't think Prime Minister Churchill has to worry about the Park anymore, thanks largely to you three!" he said as he took Amanda's hand and clapped the boys on the back.
"Your name is Terry Sloane? Like the Olympian!" asked Amanda.
"Exactly like the Olympian. Amanda, I want you to know that I think the world of you. You have so much potential. So much spunk, spirit, courage, and beauty. I have to go back to the States, but I want to help your family. I have a foundation that offers scholarships to those who show promise. Let me finance a college education for you. I can offer you friendship, but I don't want to mislead you. Romance is not possible. I'm simply too old."
Amanda teared up, but embraced him. "That would be wonderful! Our money troubles have been so pressing," she gushed.
As he led her out and prepared to turn the criminals in to the police, she smiled. As for romance, Mr. Sloane, I'll win you yet! I'll be older soon enough. We'll see if I don't get you yet, she thought merrily.
ENIGMA: Conclusion
Terry Sloane did crack the Nazi code, and this fact kept secret through the war years did allow the Allied cause to feed the Axis false dates and to react to true data in a manner that was vital to the war effort.
If questioned years later about his work in breaking the Enigma code, Terry would always smile and modestly say, "Codes are a hobby of mine!"