"Tiusday... Bloody Tuesday!"
by E A Morrissey

~See Prologue/Chapter 1 for character summaries!~
Be sure to read previous chapters:
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Warning: This is intended for a PG-13 Audiance!

Chapter VII
Mirror, Mirror who is the fairest...

The methodical man, who maybe the next wielder, booted up his Laptop computer, starting a program called Auto-Cad ver 14. Rank has its privileges since Auto-cad 14 will not be released to the public for the next three years.  He opened up a file, importing all the coordinates from the IR spectrometer. Within a few seconds, the file began to build an image of the IR beams that covered the floor of Westminster Abbey, and where the grave is buried. The file was built with blinding efficiency; again, he imported on of his own probability programs to show where mirrors should be placed so that the silent alarm would not go off. The probability solution was quick and easy since the "Sentinel" program can invade any program working on any operating system.

After saving the file, he then downloaded the file into "Betsy" a semi sentient "Bot" that could follow instructions precisely, placing the mirrors in the right sequence, and at the right time. The programming done, he shut down the computer… putting it back in its protective case, and placing the computer on the nightstand. He quickly picked up the phone dialing an 800 # that is relayed around the world seventeen times before calling another phone in London. It will take another three years of "Released" software to track a call like this, but the would-be-wielder would not take any risks!

"Hello" the man with a baritone voice said.

"The information is set, we go tomorrow night, assemble the team, rehearse the strategy again then meet at the coordinates @ 2215 hrs."  Click went the phone as he hung up. The would-be-wielder thought to himself seventeen seconds, thirty-three to spare!

The would-be-wielder left the room, closing the door, eventually he got a cab to the area known as "Elephant and Castle" for a bit of rough sex! The sex was particularly rough tonight since he was in a good mood. In the cab he leaned back and relaxed, everything was going well.

Still naked and in bed, the Vala or "Last Druid" followed his movements via her mind's eye. She stayed with him during his eclectic sexual appetite, reinforcing his good mood. From his mind, she got the confirmation that the theft will be tomorrow night!

Tomorrow 2215 Hrs

They were seven in all, all assembled outside Westminster Abbey acting in a nonchalant manner, but the underlying tone was that of a purpose that would get them inside within twenty-six seconds, click… one…two…twenty-six, click, the doors opened. The "professionals" went inside bar one, he kept an eye-on-things. This man looked like a bum but he had eyes of an eagle, scanning left and right he confirmed everything was okay.  So doing, he gave the "go" signal through his handset, the group went into action. Thirty-seven seconds passed, on time. Betsy was taken out of her "bag," laptop booted, the command sent!

Betsy looked like a miniature Bailey-bridge-constructor i.e. a little tank with a boom on it. In the center of her aft section was the reservoir that held the little mirrors. The boom moved rear ward, plucking out the first mirror placing it in the precise location… twenty-seven mirrors and forty-three seconds later, Betsy completed her task faithfully as she was shut down for the next thirty-seven minutes.

The boys got into position removing the cold-plasma-arc-cutters from their bags, they moved with a synchronicity akin to working automatons. The floor was cut with an accuracy of master wielders… strait and true! The lines were cut without complaint meeting their associates starting point.

Next came the "Soborthane" lifting device. This device had forty-three suction cups being quickly assembled in place using a silent pump that will suck the air between the Marble floor and the Soborthane cups at a pressure of 30 inches of mercury. Thus allowing the floor to be lifted up and away exposing a coffin or rather a large casket.

Within the aperture was a very ornate coffin, if it wasn't for it's size you could have called it a casket, but what marked it different from a regular coffin was the runes that covered its perimeter. The "would-be-wielder" ran his hands over the runes, with the dexterity of a master, he unlocked the runes… with a final click he lifted open the coffin within twenty-four seconds! From the coffin, a chill filled the air, outside clouds formed, as if angry, thunder was heard miles away confirming it was so! Noting the sudden change in the weather, the sensible people outside the Abbey headed for home!

A few seconds after opening the coffin, the head of a wolf appeared to the would-be- wielder, the Maw of the wolf opened. "What say you wielder, dost thou have the gumption, art thou brave enough? Brave enough like Tyr too put your hand into my mouth for there lies access to the sword? What say you…? Hmm… I'm waiting!" Even though he has come this far, still did he think of the consequences… pausing… he put his hand down the astral figure passing through, reaching for the sword? In a calculated manner, he pulled the sword slowly out of the coffin, thru the mouth of the Wolf. His wrist was about to pass beyond the incisors when the jaws clamped shut, lopping of his own astral wrist. Within his minds eye the wielder of Cheru's sword screamed an agonizing inhuman scream. Opening his eyes he could see that his wrist was still attached, his hand holding the sword. Within his minds eye he felt a loss of his spirit! Instinctively he knew the loss of his spirit would come back someday to claim the rest. On the physical plain the apparition of the wolf disappeared, as it did the hilt of the sword glowed white-hot burning flesh as it did! Now did he scream that un-godly scream. The silent alarm ran true, going off, letting the authorities know the Abbey has been breached, but the professionals knew this via the electronics they were carrying.

The pace was upped because in forty-three seconds the police would be there! The professionals lifted the collapsed wielder carrying him with dispatch leaving the Abbey, taking only "Betsy" with them! Betsy was the only piece of equipment (including laptop) that could link these people to the theft of Cheru's sword!

The wielder of the sword and three professionals got into the near-by Range Rover, driving away without urgency, so doing they did not attract attention… twenty-seven seconds passed by! The other three professionals minus their gear walked in separate directions, melding into the crowd, basically becoming invisible! The Range Rover stopped at highly visible, thus crowded areas as two of the professionals left the vehicle, leaving only the driver and the Wielder in the vehicle.

The police arrived at the Abbey forty-two seconds after the alarm went off, the officers seemed smug since they broke the record by one second. The officers witnessed the remnants of the theft as they ran though the now open doors of the Abbey! It was obvious the thieves were interrupted since the Soborthane lifting device was left behind holding the giant slab of marble. Instinctively as the officers scanned the area, they knew this was a job done by professionals and more than likely not arrest them. Slowly they went about their business cordoning off the "Crime scene" for what it was worth; it was a formality, a standardized procedure!

Outside, the weather got worse, lightning lanced around the Abbey. The Gods were clearly angry this night one of the officers' thought. He prayed to his god, showing that he is Asatru one of a growing number who have gone back to believing in the olden gods and their ways. The officer looked to the West Side, as he blinked a woman appeared.  She stood there in an old-ornate-robe, he recognized the runes stitched on the arms of the robe! He recognized her as one of the faith.

A TV remote was in the area as the call came in regarding the theft. A reporter and a vid-cam-man piled out of the Van to scan the area for a story, finally focusing on the strange looking woman!

With her arms in the air, casting an incantation, she spoke to the peoples behind the Vidcam. "Yea didst the Mother-of-most foretell of this day, the day Cheru's sword will released yet again amongst the men of Midgard! Yea the Lord of the Morning is angry thou whilst not see the sun on again until the sword returns. Ware yea all people of Midgard, the consequences of the sword shalt be felt across Midgard. Ware yea well for thine-own-doom is apparent. Fare yea well, peoples of Midgard, pray to the Gods thou believe in! Mayhap the wielder shalt show mercy, mayhap the Thunderer shalt save us all!" The last of her speech was a plea, "Pray to the Gods that you believe in, 'tis something I shalt do!

Great, we have a Whack-a-doodle; telling the End is nigh thought the reporter, but out loud, he said. "Oh well its good footage?" The Vid-cam-man watched through his camera as the woman disappeared; an act came over him when somebody is scared witless… he peed his pants as the skies peed in there own way!

To Be Continued . . .