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Episode summary:
“In
the dreadfully hot summer of 1514AH, Jericho and team 74 are dispatched to the
almost deserted city of Ruul (formally London) to solve the mystery, of several
souls who have gone missing, from a water processing station. They find few
living humans and the rule of Islam everywhere. Ruul (London) is now a Muslim
Free State City and they find little co-operation from the religiously devout
people. Nevertheless, more souls are vanishing and they must get the strange
case solved.”
Episode Warnings:
Smoking – Strong language – Strong violence [including torture and violent deaths] – Sexual references [including BDSM and sexual assault] – Mild horror.
Author’s notes about this episode:
[1]
This episode is COMPLETED but currently NOT PUBLISHED.
[2]
Contains anti-religious sentiments which may offend some readers!
[3]
The original Title for this episode was: ‘THE BLACK FLAG.’
[4]
A ‘Temporal Detectives’ original story.
[5] Illustration was found in the Public Domain with NO copyright ownership disclosed. Flag used by the short lived Islamic [Caucasus] Emirate of Chechnya and Dagestan (1999). There is an inscription at the bottom—Ikhda al-Khusnayin. It is a verse from the Koran, which, translated literally, means one of the two goods (i.e., victory or paradise). (Flag of Majlis). The design shows the phrase al-jihad fi sabili llahi and the takbir rather than the shahada.
[5] There is NO Alexandra version available.
Episode details:
Concept
date: 27th February 2021.
First
published: Unavailable
Status: COMPLETED BUT UNPUBLISHED.
Location: BOOK SERIES 0 – EPISODE 0.
Revisions: 3 [Last revised January 2022]
Version:
In Review.
Published
Episode No. 000
Previous
episode: None.
Next
episode: None.
Age
recommendation: 15+
Average
reading time: Approx. 30 Minutes.
Angel-in-charge: James
Team
Assigned: Team 74
Human
Time: 2091AD-1514AH
Mission: 4 - 381223 - 2 - 2091
Episode Preview:
Divij turned the small electric car down the empty street, past several boarded up shops and two that were not; the Arabic signs declared that one was a grocers and the other sold silks. There was a small group of people – all men – standing on the corner and they watched carefully as the little car slowly went by, staring at the people it carried. Jericho scratched his beard and muttered about the damn growth under his breath: he always preferred to be clean shaven and for once envied Owen his youth; his attempt to grow a beard for this mission had ended in utter failure with little or no beard appearing.
Alex was moaning [wow, that’s unusual…..] about what she had to wear: the black Burka, followed [again!] about a lecture on woman’s rights. Owen sighed and handed her a bottle of water, telling Alex to ‘wet her whistle and stop – for heaven’s sake – bleeding moaning about stuff no-one could change’. Jericho chuckled and tapped Divij’s shoulder pointing at the next right; “Turn there; our contact is waiting outside the old school. It was a Catholic primary before the Civil War and is now derelict since there are no Christian’s left in the city.”
Owen stared around the basically empty street and asked; “So this Ruul fellow led the Muslim Army in the Civil War and had London named after him?” Divij nodded; “Muhammad Ruul is a very important historical figure in these times, part Inman, part general and a true scholar. He drove the Christian’s and their army out of the South East and declared the Southern Caliphate about thirty years ago. But the biggest and strongest one is also up North with Abu-Hasa their capitol, should you wonder that’s the old Bradford City.”
“Are there any Christian enclaves left?” Owen asked, scratching under his Pakul. Jericho nodded; “Yes, there’s a few around the south west and north Wales, but most are concentrated up in Scotland.” Divij pulled over and they sat in silence outside the old school gates, one of which hung on its side. “I see the fanatics have been busy.” Alex grunted and everyone looked at the broken remains of the statue of St. Mary the Virgin which had been smashed down from above the school’s main entrance.
All
the stained glass windows in the small chapel at the end of the playground had
also been smashed and graffiti covered the building, nearly all Arabic and
quotes from the Koran.
“Apparently Westminster Abby is an absolute mess, a couple of local sheep farmers use it for their flocks and nearly all the monuments have been destroyed. The Houses’ of Parliament still stand; it’s used by the local ruling Muslim Council. St. Paul’s was mostly destroyed in the four years of fighting in the city during the civil war.” Jericho said and stared about, wondering where young Ali Faisal was. He checked his mirror for the local time: they were five or six minutes early.
Divij sighed; “I always admired that building, I thought it was quite beautiful but the Christian Army used it as their HQ during the war and it got hammered. Pity, it was a lovely, wonderful old building.” Owen grunted and stared at the wing mirror on Divij’s driver side. “I don’t want to worry anyone, but there’s a large mob of men walking quickly down the street behind us. They’re carrying bloody machetes, golf clubs, baseball bats, sticks and homemade spears!”
Jericho cussed loudly and sat up, telling Divij to floor the bloody accelerator which he did. The little car pulled away quickly and Alex stared out the rear window and shouted; “It was us they were after! They have started running!” The car spun around the corner; almost on two wheels as the screaming mob poured down both sides of the road, now hurdling rocks, stones and house bricks. Jericho cussed again and told Divij to drive into the derelict swimming pools empty car park, which he did. The team decamped from the little car and ran into the silent building, finding themselves in the smashed up Locker Room. They gathered by the broken doors which led out into the pool area and Jericho sighed; “Right back to the Lighthouse people.” He said simply and they operated their mirrors and disappeared as the mob poured into the building, stopping only to smash the little car and set it alight.
A big man in a dark coat and Pakul pushed his way through the excited crowd and he witnessed the small flash of light through the glass doors to the Locker room. He cussed under his breath and turned to the smaller silent man standing next to him; “Fucking missed them! Old Master said that fucking Jericho Tibbs was a cunning and clever bastard. But he won’t sneak in around here now; get the word out Hamza. There’s a reward for any information should he dare to re-appear.” Hamza nodded and grabbed two big men standing nearby and spoke quickly to them; they departed at once. Ishaaq walked to the Locker Room door and stared into the empty room, kicking the door, a little frustrated by his failure to capture the Temporal Detectives – this time – and watched as the mob split into several groups and melted away, leaving just his six men waiting for his orders.
He sighed, and then thought about young Ali Faisal, hanging from ropes in the old gym with no fingernails; few teeth left and one eye spooned from its socket: literally removed with a table spoon very slowly. He had still refused to talk but the pliers applied to his testicles had done the job and all the information needed about Jericho Tibbs had poured forth. Now Ishaaq would finish the job with a knotted rope around the young man’s neck and a brutal death by slow strangulation: he wouldn’t waste precious bullets on the traitorous dog. Ali was of no further use to Ishaaq or the old Master and so it was best to cast him into the care of God.
“Come on; let’s report back to the old Master.” He said quietly to Hamza and the pair walked from the old swimming pool complex with the rest of his men trailing behind. He stopped and stared about the derelict streets and empty buildings. Hamza asked him what was wrong and Ishaaq folded his arms and shook his head; “That bastard Tibbs hasn’t gone far my friend. He’s a persistent bastard and I still feel his presence; probably waiting to contact other traitors to the one true faith. Put the word out that’s there’s a good reward for any information about him and his team.”
Hamza
nodded and turned, speaking to the men behind who gathered around him: they
would spread the word upon the streets.
Jericho peered carefully over the parapet of the old ‘Jamal Cinema’ [he and the team were on the roof, overlooking the streets and small square where the old swimming pool complex was] and cussed, staring at the message which had appeared on his mirror. He wiped his face and said softly, “Ali Faisal’s soul has just been collected from an old gym in Mecca Street, Sophie the Collector reports he had been brutally tortured and murdered. Ishaaq and that old bastard, the so called ‘Old Master’ was ahead of us, but how?”
Divij, leaning on the parapet with his elbows, suddenly reached for his mirror and didn’t smile; “Jericho, Demon Ingress reports a Tier One Demon has just manifested itself in this time and place. Operational Control is sending a Knight as back-up.” He checked his mirror again and nodded; “It’s James.” He said quietly which made the rest of the team smile; especially Alex!
“Come on, let’s head for the safe house, Fatima will probably stuff us with a decent curry!” Jericho said, heading for the roof exit. Now it was Owens’s turn to smile broadly.
End of Preview.
“All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.”
CAUTION:
“SOME OF THESE EPISODES CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, HORROR AND SEXUAL REFERENCES. Some are RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 15+ years only.”
THE AUTHOR.