One of the men in the car was asleep. They had followed the young man for two weeks without result. Soon, though, Sergeant McDermott would have proof that thirty year old Mike Souster, whose behaviour, while not obviously criminal, was more than suspicious. An unemployed loner, who lived with his mother at a boarding house that did surprisingly little business, rarely seemed to venture outside, and when he did, it was more often than not at night time. At this stage of the investigation, it seemed to the Sergeant that this apparently quiet soul could have a connection to several vicious murders and untold disappearances over the course of the last fifteen years. Grainy C.C.T.V footage was inconclusive proof, and on the one occasion that the police had interviewed him, his mother had given him an alibi. His superior had not been satisfied and had assigned D.C Clarke and himself to follow their strongest lead.

At 11p.m, a shaft of light appeared from the front door of the boarding house, and their suspect left, closing the door behind him. McDermott roused his colleague. “C’mon Clarkey, he’s on the move.” Clarke had been a long way away from the rainy street. “Sarge, trust us to have to carry out surveillance on the world’s worst insomniac”, he said as he got out, taking his radio with him.

Their suspect had turned the corner at the end of the road. Clarke was a fit man and would easily be able to keep up, while maintaining a discreet distance. He turned the corner only to find no trace of Mike Souster. Looking around, there was no hint that Mike had entered any of the buildings on the street. “Sarge, he’s gone. I was right behind him in turning the corner and he can’t possibly have made it into one of the houses without me seeing him.” Clarke’s eyes were darting about for any sign of Mike Souster. Even if he had been running, he still couldn’t have got through any of the gates nearby, up the path and into a building. McDermott ran to where Clarke stood, looking stunned.

Above the two puzzled policemen, on a rooftop, crouched Mike Souster, who was adjusting the unearthly looking ring on his right hand. With the ring, he had elevated onto the roof before his pursuer could catch up with him. He knew that the police had been taking an interest in him for some time and realised that he was unlikely to be able to continue living as he had been. His desire to drink human blood was an inexplicable side effect from fifteen years ago, when the human who had drunk his blood became host to his life-force. For Mike Souster was none other than Enok, or what was an aberration of what had been Enok, son of the Doomlord, Vek.His features seemed to melt and flow , revealing his true form. With a domed head, pointed ears and almost satanic face, he peered into the gloom at the policemen below through piercing eyes, his sharp teeth just visible under a large, slightly pronounced upper lip.

For years, he had tried desperately to live secretly among humans, his only relationship with his host’s mother, Mrs. Souster, who was still under the spell cast by his father’s energiser ring, a device with many strange powers. This spell, cast some two decades ago, ensured that even in his true form, his “mother” would see only Mike.

Tonight, his desire for blood was unbearable. He led a lonely existence. With no natural family, he wanted to cure himself of the affliction inside, but sometimes he was weak. Sometimes a human would have to die. Occasionally, he was disturbed in his killing and consequently corpses were discovered when he fled the scene. Mostly though, he was able to disintegrate his victim’s remains with his ring, which would emit a ray capable of making solid matter vanish.

Now, he must think carefully about his next move. He liked living on Earth. He had no link to Nox, his natural home world and now must make plans to leave the woman he called his mother, the only being he could call family. The recent proliferation of C.C.T.V cameras meant a greater chance of discovery, but every so often he must have his fill. The two men below were sure to pursue him. He had been careless when he had attacked the human three weeks ago. As he had been drinking from the man he had been seen. At first, the police officers hadn’t known what they were looking at but were quick to recover. Only Enoks`s lightening reflexes saved him. Pulling up his sweatshirt hood and pushing past them, he ran from the alley. As he did so, his features became those of Mike Souster. Enok would have had still greater cause for concern had he known what chain of events would follow shortly.

In a Whitehall office, a government minister called Stephen Hodges was receiving a visit from a member of a little known branch of the Metropolitan Police. “Sir Marcus, it’s been along time. I didn’t think that there would be a job for you anymore. It’s been so quiet on the E.T. front.” The middle aged man looked gravely at the dark haired M.P. in his thirties as he produced a file from his briefcase. “I wish that were true but I’m afraid that the contrary is more likely. These stills taken from urban street cameras lead me to believe that there is a Doomlord alive and living in our country.” Hodges snatched the pictures from the other man. “I can’t see any features on this person- I…” Hodges realised. He realised more than most. He had always suspected that his father, Sir Mathew Hodges, an M.P. in the 1980`s, had been killed and replaced by such an alien. He would never forget his father arriving home on the night before his disappearance. He had not been the same warm, approachable man that he loved. The distant person in their home that night shouted angrily when he walked into his parent’s bedroom to speak to him. He had been shocked to notice that this stranger cast no reflection in the bedroom mirror. This, Stephen had learned, was a characteristic of a Noxian: that no image of theirs could be recorded. Surely, it couldn’t be a Noxian. How had this alien stayed hidden for so long? Perhaps the photos, which were not clear, did not show evidence that a Doomlord still remained on Earth. “Sir Marcus, there must be some mistake.” The experienced Alien Investigation Division officer looked grimly at Stephen. “I’m afraid not. Owing to the nature of several unsolved murders, which, admittedly, do not bear the hallmarks of a usual Doomlord killing, still lead us to believe that a Doomlord or similar alien is responsible.”

Hodges looked perturbed. “Could it be Vek?”

“We don’t believe so.”

“Why bring these photographs to me Sir Marcus? I was dismissed as a child for suggesting that my father went missing through alien involvement, even though subsequent events showed that I may have been right.” Sir Marcus ran his index finger back and forth under his chin. “What I am about to tell you is highly classified. On the surface, the police have a series of murders they are on the verge of solving. In fact, the discovery of what we believe is an alien has implications for the entire world. I brought you these pictures under orders from the Prime Minister himself.” Sir Marcus pushed an envelope across the table and waited until the minister had finished reading its contents. “The P.M. believes that you are the man to liaise with the U.S. planner. We are due to attend a meeting with the P.M., the Secretary of State and senior military staff officer’s tomorrow morning.”

The next day was windy and rain poured from the sky. The sound of raindrops reverberated on the corrugated iron roof of the disused factory. Inside, Enok sat alone, deep in thought. Instinctively, he knew a Noxian required sunlight to survive. Despite his predicament, his thirst still led him to take further risks and there he sat his mind in turmoil. Last night, he had taken another human life. The young man had bid farewell to his girlfriend, and, as he crossed the park close to where she lived, Enok had accosted him and, as the man stared in horror at the cruel visage from another world, struck him a blow to the head. In the privacy of some bushes he then sank his teeth into the senseless man’s neck and drank every drop of his blood. Enok had then pointed his right hand in the direction of the corpse and the body of his young victim vanished in an eerie glow.

Enok`s thoughts returned to the present and the sound of the rain, beating down hard above his head. He began to sob bitterly. Before leaving this place forever, he must take one further risk. He would go and say farewell to the woman he had called “mother” and who, despite their bizarre relationship, was the only being he loved.

Enok pulled up his hood and, reverting back to his human identity of Mike Souster, who had sacrificed himself so that Enok could live, began walking homeward.

The police would be watching the boarding house. In truth, Enok realised that his returning to see Mrs. Souster may present them with the opportunity to trap him. In a way, maybe he wanted to be apprehended- to finally end what was a truly wretched existence.

As he entered the alleyway at the rear of Mrs. Souster`s boarding house there was no-one around. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon but the daylight was fading already. Lights were on in several of the buildings along the street, including one in Mrs. Souster`s kitchen. He couldn’t see her and called out as he opened the door slowly. “Mum, I’m home. Where are you?” He opened the door from the kitchen to the rear lounge and Sergeant McDermott spoke. “Good afternoon Michael.” Behind him appeared D.C. Clarke, who must have been hiding in the alley. Enok was not surprised that the policemen were waiting for him, but he had been questioned by the Sergeant before and he still had no proof. The hall door opened, and a third man entered a gun in his hand. Before Enok could react, he heard a shot and fell forwards, into oblivion.

"I hope to God you men know what you’re doing”, said Sergeant McDermott to the tall, dark haired man dressed all in black who was replacing the gun in it’s holster. “You did your part Sergeant. We’ll handle things from here.” McDermott was frustrated at being used in something he didn’t understand. “For all I know, this man could be innocent- we have no real proof that he is responsible for any crime.” The man knelt by the prone figure of Enok and was removing the ring from his hand. “No, but you are not in possession of all the facts.” Rising, he put the ring carefully into a plastic bag and into his pocket. Pushing the hall door ajar, he called to another man “Corporal, tell the lads in the van to get over here.”

The man in the hall opened the front door and beckoned to the driver of a van across the street. Almost at once, two other men burst from inside the van and brought the stretcher they were carrying into the boarding house. They strapped Enok onto the stretcher and had returned to the van in less than two minutes. The man who had tranquilised Enok spoke again to McDermott “Look after the woman upstairs. She’s in a terrible state.”

“Well, we have just arrested her son for God’s sake!” The man had left while McDermott replied. “Clarke, wait here and let the station know we won’t be back for a while. I’ll go and speak to the mother, but heaven knows what I’m going to tell her.”

When they had returned upstairs, Sir Marcus left Stephen in an office and went to finalise arrangements. As he sat waiting for Enok to arrive, Stephen cast his mind back to the meeting earlier that morning. To begin with, the Prime minister had addressed those present “Gentlemen, I cannot understate the gravity of the situation that our world finds itself in. We are always under threat from terrorist attacks, but intelligence we have received suggests that one terrorist group now has the capability to detonate nuclear devices in Europe and the U.S.A. The information is compelling and we have to act immediately. The C.I.A. are somehow aware of one of our most closely guarded secrets: the existence of the sample of Doomlord Vek`s blood. Most of you know about it but for the benefit of those that don’t, I will go over how we came by it. Vek`s son had killed his father and was terrorising the Earth. A cabinet minister, Sir Douglas Reeve took it upon himself to inject a sample of Vek`s blood into his bloodstream. The alien blood contained Vek`s life-force and Sir Douglas’s mind and body were taken over until only Vek remained. Eye witnesses said that the transformation was horrific. After Vek had regenerated, he proceeded to stop Enok from carrying out further destruction. My point is that before his death, Sir Douglas had asked Vek to submit a sample of his blood so that in the event of his death, it could be used to resurrect him. We still have some of Doomlord`s blood in a vault. Our allies know about it and intend to bring Doomlord back to life to stop the terrorists destroying the world.”

“How does capturing his son fit in sir?” asked Stephen. The Prime Minister looked across at the minister and was clearly less than enthusiastic about what he had to tell him.

“It appears that the Americans were aware that Enok was still on Earth all this time and intend to threaten Doomlord that Enok will be harmed if he doesn’t co-operate. If Vek is successfully brought back to life and can destroy the terrorists then our allies believe he should be lured to the same location as his son and be trapped with him.” The Prime Minister glanced round at the faces of the men before continuing: “At this stage we have no real option but to attempt to revive Doomlord.”

“What about conventional anti-terrorist methods sir?” asked Stephen.

“Vek will be able to infiltrate the enemy and destroy them: something we cannot possibly do at this late stage. The Americans also believe that had they approached Enok and asked him for assistance, they may not have got the desired response.” Sir Marcus, who may have seemed distant to an observer, had been thinking over what had been said “If, and I mean if, the American plan succeeds, do you really suppose that Vek will fall into the trap with his son? If he doesn’t, what do you think he’ll do to us?” The Prime Minister was sympathetic but at loss for an alternative course of action. Eventually, a decision was made and the American plan which would first involve Enok being captured and imprisoned at a research centre with an impregnable cell was implemented.

Stephen’s thoughts were interrupted as Sir Marcus came back in the office. “The military say they have found a volunteer to be injected with Doomlord`s blood. Apparently he’s one of the team that is bringing the alien here. The two of you will travel on to the clinic where they’re to try and bring Doomlord back.” Sir Marcus had barely finished speaking as they both turned towards the window and the sound of an approaching helicopter.

From their office window, Stephen and Sir Marcus could see the stretcher bearers bringing Enok towards the building. With them was a tall, dark haired man. They went into the corridor and watched as the three men went down in the lift. “I hope they used a strong enough tranquiliser”, said Stephen as they waited for the lift to ascend. The tall man stepped alone from the lift. “The Corporal and Private Smith will stay below to ensure that no-one bothers our guest. Oh, I’d better introduce myself- I’m Captain Steele of the Special Air Service- the volunteer. Mr. Hodges, we should be going; the helicopter’s waiting.”

Steele hurriedly shook them both by the hand and he and Stephen made their way outside.

During the journey to the clinic, Stephen looked across at Captain Steele. He seemed very pre-occupied and glanced at his watch on several occasions. This, Stephen could understand, for if the intelligence was correct, every second may determine the fate of millions of lives.

Enok slowly awoke. His head ached. He rubbed at his eyes and realised that he had reverted back to his true identity. The strain had been great and his body may have changed to help him conserve energy. As his head cleared, he remembered being shot by a man. Anaesthetic. In human form, he was vulnerable and the man that shot him had known. He pulled himself up onto the edge of the bed and looked up at the electric lights in the ceiling. Where was he? This room was antiseptically clean and decorated entirely white. Enok rose and walked over to the window into the corridor. He could discern a man dressed in black holding a weapon. He shouted at the top of his voice in despair. His bellow was audible over the building’s intercom system and the guard nearest the cell door contact his superior upstairs. “He’s awake major.” The commander of the research centre and Sir Marcus made immediately for the lift.

The helicopter landed in the grounds of the clinic and Stephen and the Captain disembarked. They walked briskly to the reception area where a grey haired man in a lab coat met them. “Come inside gentlemen- the phial containing the blood has just arrived.” He ushered them into a room where two S.A.S. soldiers and a nurse stood waiting. On a table near a window was a syringe. Captain Steele presented the bag containing the alien ring to the scientist, Doctor Mathews, who having done extensive research into Doomlord, knew to handle it with care. The Captain, Stephen noticed, had quickly rolled up his shirt sleeve to receive the injection. The nurse swabbed Steele’s upper arm and grimly, Doctor Mathews injected him. “God bless you”, said Stephen as the contents of the syringe emptied into Steele’s system. “According to our information”, said Mathews, “It will take about an hour to begin to take effect. Captain, if you need anything, just ask.” Steele appeared unconcerned. “As long as things go according to plan.” Stephen felt certain that he detected uneasiness in the Captain’s words. “I f you don’t mind me asking Captain, why did you volunteer?” With a half smile he answered. “The threat facing our country is enormous. I have no real family and someone had to volunteer, so I did. It’s as simple as that.”

The effects of the alien blood on Captain Steele began after only a few minutes. He had started sweating profusely, and had undone the top two buttons of his shirt. “Doc, I’m so hot. It’s far worse than any case of flu I’ve had!” Mathews, though, was more concerned by the pulsating veins and straining tendons in his wrists. “What the hell’s happening to my hands Doc? - They’re throbbing like crazy. Look at my left one- its swelling up!” Out of instinct, Steele grasped his left wrist with his right hand, which was also beginning to swell. “Oh Doc! You have to do something- the pain- please help me!” Stephen took a step towards him but Mathews put up a restraining hand. “Doctor, surely there must be something we can do!” he said crossly.

Not long afterwards, Steele began babbling and, at times, his voice became two. The two S.A.S. men brought their weapons to bear in his direction. “Lower your guns, I’m afraid this is the natural sequence of events in this process. The man you know as Captain Steele is lost.” Mathews did not seem shocked by what was happening to Steele, but Stephen and the others were staring in horrified awe.

Minutes passed and Steele, his face contorted in agony, sank to his knees, clutching at his head with hands twice the size they had been, and now with a greenish tint to them. The last sound that could truly be said to have come from Steele was a blood- curdling scream that made everyone in the room shudder. All were motionless as the previously handsome face of the Captain seemed to melt and flow into those of Doomlord.

The alien cast his steely eyes over the humans. “Where am I?” he addressed Mathews. “You are in a clinic in the Midlands. I’m Doctor Mathews. If you would care to sit down I’ll explain everything.” The alien remained standing and stared at them. “Something is not right. Where is my son? He must be stopped!” Mathews took a step towards him and Doomlord`s reaction was to pick Mathews up by the throat and suspend him three feet off the floor in a vice-like grip. “My son, Where is he? Answer or I will crush his windpipe!” It was Stephen who spoke. “Please, release Doctor Mathews and I will explain everything. Trust me!” Doomlord had lived among mankind for several years and his dealings with them had taught him about human nature. It was this that made him believe this man. Doomlord dropped Mathews on the floor. The nurse moved cautiously towards the Doctor, who lay clutching his throat, desperate for air. “Sir”, she said to Stephen, “Doctor Mathews is going to need medical attention.” Stephen called to the N.C.O. standing beside him. “Corporal, get help immediately!” Doomlord stood perfectly still, observing the scenario.

Almost at the same time as his father was resurrected, Enok, tiring from his efforts to escape, stepped back from the cell wall. His punches had barely made an impression. His shoulders and head sagged forward. What were the humans going to do with him? In this environment, he would undoubtedly die. He had had to suffer many constraints in order to keep his identity as secret as his condition would allow, but this total lack of freedom was already becoming intolerable. And if what the humans did to him didn’t kill him then just the simple fact that he didn’t have access to sunlight would. A voice sounded over the intercom, but Enok didn’t look round at Sir Marcus. “Please, let’s try again Enok. I want to help you as you and your father helped us in the past. I know you don’t trust me, and in your current surroundings I can’t blame you, but a situation has arisen that has forced the government of this country into using you to defeat an enemy capable of killing millions of people!”

“Then why did you not simply approach me and ask for my assistance? As you have pointed out, I have intervened to save the Earth before.” Sir Marcus gave his answer some thought. “It was not certain that you would agree to the plan, so our American allies proposed that we use you as a hostage to ensure our enemies are stopped.”

Enok turned to face Sir Marcus. “Who can you force to do your bidding that will care what happens to me?”

“Your father.”

“This is some sort of trick- my father is dead! How can it be…unless...” Enok knew that if the human was telling the truth, then the only way his father could live was if a man had sacrificed himself by introducing his father’s blood into his system. “But when last I knew my father he tried to destroy the Earth – why should he care about me? We are enemies!”

Sir Marcus understood the complications that resurrecting an incarnation of Doomlord from when he had been Earth’s protector would have for Enok, who had seen his father revert back to his original mission of destroying man. “The blood sample that was used to revive your father had been taken on the request of your father’s friend, Sir Douglas Reeve. In the event that your father died, he could be resurrected if a volunteer allowed himself to have the blood introduced into their body. The Doomlord Vek that lives is not the same one that you last remember and, in fact, believes you to be a threat to the planet! With any luck, my colleague will set the record straight with your father too. It is my wish that you be reunited with your father soon. Until then, is there anything I can do for you?” Enok`s voice was full of contempt. “For now, I am in your power and cannot be sure that you speak the truth, but I will be of little use in your plan. Without exposure to sunlight, I will die. If my father cares for me, he may destroy your enemies, but if I die, he will also destroy you!”

Sir Marcus bit his lip and he felt a wave of nausea creeping up on him. The Americans hadn’t known that Enok would need natural light, but then, why would they? The reports recovered from the intelligence facility in the eighties were not complete. Before they had been updated, the officer in charge and the scientist charged with studying Doomlord had disappeared at the same time that he had escaped. Sir Marcus spoke quickly. “Trust me; I’ll do all that I can to find a solution!” He walked straight to the lift. As a result of incomplete data, the plan to save the world was in jeopardy.

Fifty miles south of the research centre, Doomlord sat, having listened to Stephen’s account of events. Time was indeed short. He had been gone for so long. It appeared that the humans, although free from recent alien attack, needed his help once more. His best friend was dead and Enok was being held in order to ensure his co-operation. “Why did you not think that Enok or I would help you without him being held hostage?” Stephen shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m afraid we had to agree to this plan owing to the severity of the problem. Personally, I don’t like it at all. In fact, I have been empowered by the Prime Minister to tell you that we do not intend to carry out the plan in its entirety.” Doomlord stared at him. “What do you mean, ‘in its entirety’?”

“The American who formulated the plan perceives you to be a threat and intends, after you have foiled the terrorists, to imprison you too!” Doomlord had lived with the humans and having absorbed so many human minds, was right about this man. Despite having known him for such a short time, he trusted him. If he chose to extract the knowledge of his son’s whereabouts and free him, there may not then be time to save millions of human lives. “Why tell me about this intended betrayal? Do you not share the views of your allies?”

Stephen sighed. “No, we believe that you are our friend. You have saved us from many enemies that would otherwise have destroyed us. The fact is that some Americans don’t like the idea of having an ally more powerful than they are!” Stephen turned as someone knocked at the door. “That’ll be the chopper to take us to London. Colonel Maxwell, whose plan we’re following, will be waiting, as will one of the U.S. President’s top advisers.” Stephen rose and handed Doomlord the ring that had been taken from Enok. Doomlord put the ring on his right hand as they both left the room to make for the helicopter.

For most of the journey, they sat alongside one another in silence, but Stephen had a personal question for Doomlord; one that he needed an answer to for his peace of mind. “I need to ask you about something Doomlord. I believe that my father, Sir Mathew Hodges, was killed by one of your kind. You were on the planet in 1982…” Doomlord turned to face Stephen.

“I did not kill your father. My predecessor, Servitor Zyn was responsible for the death of Sir Mathew Hodges. Zyn used your father’s identity to help collect data to ascertain if man was worthy of survival. His judgement was that mankind was beyond salvation and should be wiped out. A journalist, who knew his true identity, also knew that in human form Noxians are vulnerable. This reporter killed Zyn before he could carry out his plan. I followed later that year to learn what became of Zyn and, if necessary, destroy mankind. I found, however, that man is a worthy species and became its protector. My masters were outraged and sent assassins to kill me. They, like the other alien threats that followed, I managed to overcome.”

At the research centre in the midlands, Sir Marcus had been contacted by Doctor Mathews’s assistant, who told him that the alien, Doomlord, lived again and about what had happened to the doctor. “Blast, I need his help!”
“I’m sorry Sir Marcus , but the alien attacked him and he’s been taken to hospital.” Sir Marcus couldn’t afford to procrastinate. “Are you able to send me Doctor Mathews’s research files? I need to know if he has information that can solve a serious problem.”

The junior scientist could sense the urgency in Sir Marcus’s voice. “I’ll send you what we have on our system’s hard drive. Hopefully, it’ll contain the information you need.” Sir Marcus had barely replaced the receiver before he rose from his seat and went into the office next door to wait at the computer terminal for the information to arrive.

Inside an office in Whitehall, London, those integral to the plan to stop the terror attacks were assembled. Present, were Doomlord, Stephen Hodges, Senator Victoria Harriman, the U.S. President’s advisor and Colonel Maxwell. Maxwell, a slightly overweight man in his forties with thinning fair hair, was clearly fascinated by Doomlord. “I’m honoured to meet you Doomlord. I apologise for the incarceration of your son, but we couldn’t take any chances.”

Doomlord sat in silence and, having already taken a dislike to this man and his methods. Maxwell continued. “You have crossed our country’s path before on a number of occasions. When you were a Servitor, that’s your proper title isn’t it, you killed two Pentagon officers and other military personnel when you took us to the brink of Armageddon!” The Colonel was interrupted by Senator Harriman. “Colonel Maxwell, we haven’t got the time for this antagonism. For the record though, Doomlord`s actions actually encouraged disarmament; not to mention the time he rescued the crew of the space shuttle.” The C.I.A. man looked humbled, pursed his lips and continued. “Look Doomlord, I just want to make it clear that if you follow my plan, your son will be released.”

Taking instructions from this human would be hard for Doomlord to stomach, but Colonel Maxwell was the one who felt uneasy. He had been positive that he could control the alien and intimidate him. In the flesh, though, Maxwell was the one feeling intimidated and from that point on wisely stuck to the job in hand. “Senator, gentlemen, as you know we are in possession of information informing us that an extremist terrorist organisation have gained access to powerful nuclear devices and within the next two days, intend to detonate them. We only received the intelligence two days ago and we are in no doubt as to its validity. We knew about Doomlord`s blood sample and his son, so I came up with this emergency plan, which, as we don’t know the location of the bombs, was the only course of action we could take.”

“Who are these terrorists?" asked Stephen.

“They’re led by an American of all people. A man who served his country with distinction but is now a renegade.”
“Where did you get your information from?” Stephen persisted.

“It came to our attention that one of his men was in the U.S. We had him followed and managed to take him alive. He has been questioned at length, but has told us very little.” Doomlord addressed Maxwell. “Let me see this man. He will be powerless to hide his knowledge from me!”

“Ok Doomlord, he’s being held at a top security barracks in Washington D.C. I’ll contact the base commander and let him know you want to see the prisoner.” Doomlord`s ring had various powers; one of them allowing him to teleport to any location. While Maxwell was on the telephone, Stephen asked Doomlord: “Do you think that you will be able to infiltrate the terrorist group in time?”

“If the information is correct, then I shall find and destroy them!” When Maxwell returned with the co-ordinates, Doomlord adjusted his ring and vanished before their eyes!

Alone in his cell, Enok had already begun to feel the effects of sunlight deprivation. As time passed slowly by, he felt weaker. The human had said he would help him, but he had left him hours ago.

Upstairs, Sir Marcus had read everything that Doctor Mathews’s assistant had sent but he could find nothing of any use. At the desk in his shirt sleeves and with his tie loosened, he could see only one option that would save Enok. It would mean deviating from the American plan, but Enok`s life was at stake. He knew that the Prime Minister valued Doomlord as an ally, so he may agree to his proposal to release Enok early. He reached for the telephone and asked the switchboard for a secure line to number 10.

In Washington D.C., Doomlord`s molecules reassembled inside the office of a startled U.S. army Captain, the commander of the barracks where the terrorist was being held. “H-Hello Doomlord, I’m Captain Holt. I’ve been instructed to show you the prisoner right away!” The Captain was clearly nervous around the alien, clumsily opening his office door and not taking his wide eyes from him. Captain Holt stopped at the cell door along a corridor that adjoined his office and instructed the guard to let them in. “Leave us!” said Doomlord, once they were inside looking at the prisoner. Captain Holt and the guard looked at one another. Maxwell had said to do as the alien said and both were happy to comply with the order.

In the cell sat a dishevelled, but defiant man in his forties. Doomlord stood opposite him. “Doomlord! I thought you were history! Are you their last hope of getting the information they want? Tough, cos` I’ll tell you what I told them- nothing!” Doomlord simply reached out and took the man’s head in his hands and this allowed him to suck all the knowledge from the man’s brain. The human was helpless and the transfer of the contents of his mind was over in moments. The man had been a fanatic and would have died for the cause he fought for. He was responsible for the death of several American military personnel in an earlier bomb attack and felt no remorse.

Doomlord then stripped the man and dressed in his shirt and trousers and called Captain Holt back into the cell. Holt, who had been pacing the floor outside, recoiled in horror at the montage that met him...“Oh my God – You’ve killed him! I thought you were just going to talk!” Captain Holt took a step back as Doomlord raised his right hand and his ring shone an eerie light in the direction of the dead terrorist. Seconds later, the body had vanished completely. Holt was then awestruck as he watched the alien features of Doomlord melt and flow, until he was an exact duplicate of the deceased terrorist. “Tell Colonel Maxwell that Curtis and some of his men are in Austria, and that they intend to explode one of two nuclear charges along the Italian border! I will go and attempt to stop him!”

As Doomlord teleported to Austria, Sir Marcus Thorpe had just finished a conversation with the Prime Minister. Together with the U.S. President, it had been agreed that Enok should be released now that Doomlord was dealing with the terrorists. Colonel Maxwell had protested but the President refused to listen. He raced to the lift and went down to relay the news to Enok. Sir Marcus explained excitably: “Great news! I am empowered by the Prime Minister to free you immediately!” Enok, who lay on the bed facing the wall, replied without moving. “Do not toy with me human!”

Sir Marcus went on: “It’s no trick. I’m going to open the door now!” Sir Marcus dismissed the soldiers from the corridor and reached out for the button to release the lock. The mechanism hissed as the door moved automatically to one side on its runners. Enok didn’t move. “I need your assistance.” Cautiously, Sir Marcus walked over to the bed and Enok swung his legs round. Sir Marcus put Enok`s arm around his neck and eased him to the floor, and began to make slow progress towards the lift.                                          

Once they had reached the surface, Sir Marcus called to the N.C.O., who had been on duty below. “Corporal, give us a hand will you?” The two men pushed open the main double doors and lay Enok down. The rain that had been falling when they arrived had given way to bright sunshine. Within minutes, Enok had sat upright and seemed to be recovering well. He addressed Sir Marcus, who was relieved. “Where is my father?” he demanded.

Doomlord, in his human guise of Ben Taggart, the terrorist, was walking through a bleak mountain landscape. His victim had known that the terrorist leader, Curtis, and his men were close to this place. He could sense a human nearby, when a voice called out from some trees. “Raise your hands very slowly!” There were two men. One remained in cover and the other came towards him. “It can’t be- Ben! How did you get away?”

“I shot one of my guards and managed to have one of our contacts smuggle me into Europe so I could be here for the big bang!” The terrorist seemed satisfied and not in the least bit suspicious. Trudging through the snow towards the terrorists encampment, Doomlord assessed that the two men were weary and at close to breaking down mentally. The bitter wind howled around the camp, which was covered by a camouflage tarpaulin. Underneath this, a 4x4 vehicle stood, and a man communicated on a radio from the rear of it .On a mountainside above the camp was a cave. Doomlord and the guards went up to it. Curtis, a fair-haired man in his thirties and the terrorist leader, looked up from what he was doing and rose quickly to shake the hand of his friend. “Ben – I’m glad we got to meet one last time!” Judging by the fact that the terrorists had been in the act of preparing to detonate the bomb, Doomlord acted with lightning speed. “James, you must be stopped!”

“What in the name of God do you mean?” Ben Taggart`s features seemed to melt and flow into those of the alien Doomlord .Curtis was amazed. “Doomlord! They’ve used you to get me!” Curtis’s shock at seeing Doomlord gave the alien the opportunity to raise his hand and allow his ring to cast it’s eerie glow towards the guards, who vanished as Curtis scrambled for the bomb. Doomlord struck him hard against the wall of the cave and he slumped unconscious. Doomlord knelt by his side and clutched his head in his hands. The tortured mind of the terrorist emptied into Doomlord`s.

James Curtis had been a top C.I.A. operative. He had often been entrusted with secret information. Several years ago, he had the misfortune to learn that a sinister cartel existed in his country, and, as their power grew, gained control of big businesses across the globe and also had influence in the military and politics. The members of this cartel, consumed by greed and of lust for power, were on the verge of dominating the world. Indeed, Curtis understood several U.S. senators to be important members of the cartel, which intended to subjugate the whole world by systematically starving the people of resources, extorting their money legally and otherwise and also by military force. To divert attention from their insidious aspirations, they had concocted fictitious enemies for the people to fear, fabricated evidence against their opponents and killed those who may seriously impede their scheme. Curtis was one such man, and he had been on the run ever since his discovery, avoiding death or capture many times.

The strain, though, had been too great and, unhinged, he had stolen and bought the components and plutonium to construct two nuclear devices which he intended to detonate in the U.S.A. and Europe, where he knew the cartel were most powerful. Most importantly, the mind of the terrorist leader revealed the location of the second device. Doomlord aimed his ring at the dead man and the bomb. Within moments, no trace remained of either. Doomlord made his way to the caves entrance and could see that the radio operator was still transmitting, oblivious of his presence. He teleported back to London, his arrival surprising Stephen and Sir Marcus. With them was Enok, whose eyes shone. “Father!”
Doomlord stared at him for a moment and then embraced him. “We are together again, my son!” Doomlord then held him at arms length by the shoulders, and, without looking at the humans, asked “Where is Colonel Maxwell?”
“He left with Senator Harriman a couple of hours ago. They were returning to Washington”, replied Stephen.
Doomlord called Enok to his side and together they vanished from the room, leaving behind them a bewildered Stephen and Sir Marcus.

Doomlord and Enok re-materialised on a ranch in Kansas, where Curtis’s associate was due to detonate the second bomb. In a barn, next to a grain silo, the tension was getting to the terrorists, who were cursing loudly. Attracted by the raised voices, Doomlord and Enok stalked over. Outside the barn doors were two sentries. Doomlord aimed his ring in their direction and commanded, “Energiser to disintegrate!”, and they vanished, as if they had never existed.

Colonel Maxwell had raced straight from the airfield to the Washington D.C. office of his superior, General Aaron Carter, who was livid. “You goddam idiot, you’ve gone and finished us both. If Doomlord doesn’t get us then they will!”

The General reached into a drawer and removed an automatic revolver. “We have no choice. You’re carrying a gun?” Maxwell gulped. His plan had partially succeeded, but his masters would not take kindly to Doomlord being on the loose and at liberty to oppose them. He hesitated at the precise moment that Doomlord and Enok materialised in the room. Carter fired his gun at Maxwell, who fell back, and then raised the colt to his head and squeezed the trigger. The firing had alerted two soldiers, one of whom pressed the security alarm on the way to bursting into Carter’s office. Enok pulled the rifle from the first man’s grasp and clubbed them both senseless. Doomlord went to Maxwell, who, though mortally injured, stirred slightly. He took the dying man’s head in his hands and extracted the contents of his mind.

Outside came the sound of footsteps, so Doomlord hastily aimed his hand at the bodies of the treacherous C.I.A men and they ceased to exist. The first man to enter the room took a step back in shock, certain that his mind was playing tricks on him because he could have sworn that two Doomlords had just vanished in front of him.

On arrival in Stephen Hodges’s Whitehall office, Doomlord and Enok were met by a baffled politician and Sir Marcus. “Doomlord! Enok! Will you please stay still long enough to tell us what is going on?”

“I will be happy to enlighten you”, said Doomlord, “Now that the threat from the terrorists is over. I regret to inform you that several politicians in the United States are part of a criminal consortium that is intent on enslaving humankind. I have the proof to indict them and it would be wise to move at once to apprehend them. I prevented Curtis from detonating the first device in Austria, and Enok assisted me in the destruction of a second, in Kansas. Curtis, it transpires, was a by- product of this cartel and he insanely sought to end their growing control by destroying not only the cartel’s powerbases, but millions of innocent people. Colonel Maxwell, whose plan you agreed to, was their servant. I extracted some valuable information from Maxwell, the information necessary to convict some of the cartel’s members. Both Maxwell and his commanding officer, who was also implicated, are dead.”

“That’s fantastic Doomlord. I don’t know how we’ll be able to repay you!” said Stephen.

“Do not be complacent! The men you will be able to arrest are only some of those involved. They may lead to others, but their influence is embedded deeply!” Stephen and Sir Marcus shook Doomlord and Enok by the hand. Doomlord adjusted his ring ready to teleport and Enok joined him. He called to Sir Marcus. “If I might request that a certain boarding house receives no further attention by the police?”

Doomlord and Enok re-materialised in a quiet alley in Bradfield, not far from Mrs. Souster`s boarding house. Doomlord seemed to hesitate. Enok looked at his father encouragingly. “You will be welcome as you always were.” Doomlord had been attached to his landlady and he didn’t want to shock her with a sudden re-appearance after so many years. Enok persisted and managed to persuade him. Doomlord`s features seemed to melt and flow into those of ex- commercial traveller Eric Plumrose. Enok also changed into his human identity; that of Mike Souster.

At the front door, Doomlord waited to one side as Enok pressed the doorbell. Mrs. Souster came to the door and her expression was one of tearful joy. “Mike- Thank God! Where have you been? You didn’t phone, and I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry Mum, but where I was I couldn’t` let you know. You might like to see who I brought back with me.” Doomlord moved into the doorway and saw that Mrs. Souster was delighted. “Mr. Plumrose! Come in, but I’m going to need a sit down and a drink before we catch up.”