Chapter Text
Teaser
A small boat cruised smoothly on the blue sea, small waves emerging from underneath its hull. As two men threw out the anchor, the vessel slowly came to a complete stop. A deep-sea diver stepped onto the edge of the ship and asked his companion, "All clear to dive?" His friend nodded in response. The diver put his mask on, turned on his oxygen, and lowered himself off the diving platform into the clear waters.
The man dove down into the crystalline sea for several yards until he reached the bow of a large sunken ship. He approached it cautiously, making sure not to hit his head on one of the protruding planks.
Suddenly a bright light shone from an underwater cove nearby. A powerful surge pushed the poor diver into a sharp piece of plank wood, and he immediately lost unconsciousness, falling to the bottom of the sea.
Above the surface, the diver's companion likewise felt the force. Suddenly the boat flipped over, spilling him into the water. Water swirled around him as he grappled for air. After much struggling, his lungs filled with water, and he drifted to the bottom of the sea like his diving friend.
The strong current and blinding light continued to make chaos for several minutes before both stopped.
The two men were dead, and their boat was shred to pieces. Nothing was left of the diving team in the now tranquil water. Beyond the serene waters loomed a large landmass that belonged to a nearby archipelago.
Inferno Island
Steed Gets Caught in the Current
Emma is All Washed Up
First Morning
Mrs. Emma Peel strolled down the pavement, casually glancing into each store window she passed. It was wonderful to have a quiet afternoon to herself, doing nothing except to take a neighbourly ramble down the street. An autumn breeze scattered freshly fallen leaves all over the paths. Emma inhaled the scent of fall and carelessly glanced at one of the displays at a hat shop.
A man was hanging a large sign with big, red letters pasted across the front. Emma thought nothing of it, until she did a double take at what the sign said. It read, "Mrs. Peel . . ."
The man hung another sign that said, "We're needed." The man lifted his head, and Emma realized he was John Steed. He tipped his bowler playfully, beckoning her inside.
Emma was somewhat annoyed and amused at Steed, as she always was when he told her that they were needed. She still had no idea how he managed to know where she was all the time. She knew that being a secret agent must have something to do with it. With a little bemused smirk, she headed into the store.
Emma approached Steed, who was busily removing the signs from the front window. "Well?" she began.
"Well, what?" Steed asked nonchalantly as he leaned the two signs against the wall.
"Well, what murder was committed this time?"
"Shh, spy talk is very hush, hush." Steed wandered over to a bowler hat display, Emma lagging behind him. He looked around himself, making sure no one had heard anything.
Emma enquired, "Is it a dozen bodies and no suspects?"
"Actually, it's two weeks on a tropical island and no suitable clothes."
"Is this trip for business or for pleasure?"
"It's a business trip, but I hope to have some pleasure on the side." Steed smiled pleasantly, revelling at the thought of endless days with beautiful girls in a tropical paradise. "There's been several reports of," he and Emma looked around themselves for eavesdroppers, "divers being killed near a little island in the Caribbean."
"Is there any connection among all the divers?"
"Yes, they were all looking for the Fabled Treasure of Pirate Arme Buccos. He supposedly was a pirate during the eighteenth century, who confiscated about 500,000 pounds in gold and silver."
She whistled admiringly at the large sum. "Who or what killed these divers?"
"Nobody knows for certain, but the islanders believe that a great force pulled them under and whirled them around, causing them to lose consciousness and eventually die."
"What sort of great force could do so much damage?"
"That's what I’m being sent to investigate. A man, who was nearby at the time of the deaths, claims he heard a strange whirring noise, accompanied by a bright light. We’re fearing a man-made object."
"It's all very puzzling. I don't know what to make of it."
"That's why I'm going to investigate. Now which bowler should I buy for the trip, the black or the gray one?" Steed gingerly lifted both of the hats and stared at her expectantly.
Emma grabbed both hats and put them down. "Steed, of all the necessities you need to enjoy on a tropical island, bowler hats are not one of them."
Steed smirked at her comment but wisely didn't make a derogatory reply. Instead he said, "Well, I asked you for your assistance in finding the proper clothing, so what should I bring with me?"
Emma seemed to be mulling over something important, for she didn't answer. "I've been thinking, Steed. You need someone else to go with you on this case, someone who can not only help you solve it, but someone to keep you company when you're across the sea."
"That's a wonderful idea, Mrs. Peel," Steed replied affably. In a deep voice he said, "The plane leaves at one this afternoon. How long does it take you to pack?"
"An hour at the most," she replied in a dulcet tone.
Steed tipped his hat politely and declared, "I'll pick you up in two hours."
"I'll be waiting for you." Emma pranced assuredly out the door, her reddish brown hair bouncing with each step.
Steed gazed admiringly after her, and then took the two bowlers to the front of the shop to purchase them. He didn't care what she said; a bowler hat was a necessity anywhere.
****
Dr. Catherine Gale scanned the busy museum and sighed happily. She loved her job as a curator almost as much as her job as an amateur spy. She remembered how Steed had first asked for her assistance at this same museum when she was a docent*. She had been eager to have some adventure and had agreed to help him, not knowing how crude and callous he could be. She and Steed made a rather strange crime— solving team, since they were almost opposite in every way. But over the course of time, they had grown accustomed to each other's habits.
Perhaps Steed had grown rather fond of her, but Cathy never had the same feelings for him. True, she was a widow and could have fallen for the dashingly handsome man, but she hadn't. Maybe it was because she couldn't stand his caddish ways, or maybe it was the fact that Steed had been engaged to another woman. Yes, John Steed had proposed to a woman by the name of Emma Knight, and the same year, he had been brainwashed by the head of the ministry to forget. His poor fiancee had been brainwashed to think she was the widow Mrs. Peel**.
Cathy could easily forgive Steed's boorish, flirtatious ways since she knew it wasn't entirely his fault. For two years she had helped him solve numerous mysteries, saving his life more than once. Then she went on to several jobs until she was back to being a curator, enjoying the less than dangerous lifestyle. As a world-renowned anthropologist and markswoman, she knew that if she ever got bored, there was a world of opportunity waiting for her.
A stranger approached her and interrupted her thoughts. “Excuse me, could you please tell me about this artifact?" he asked her.
Cathy smiled briefly and went to the assistance of the stranger.
****
After Cathy had left Steed, Emma had become his second partner in crime fighting. Then a murderer arrived, claiming to be her presumed dead husband, and Miss Tara King had become Steed's third partner. When he and Emma had learned the truth about their engagement (and of Emma's fake husband), Tara had been paired up with Basil Creighton-Latimer, who was the nephew of the head of the ministry so that Emma could continue working with Steed.
The head of the ministry, Mother, had threatened to brainwash them again if their romantic relationship interfered with their work, but so far Steed and Emma had continued operating as they always had. While Tara was still partnered with Basil, she retained a friendship with Steed that was the envy of every single gentleman. Only someone as self-possessed as Emma Knight, fondly called “Mrs. Peel,” by Steed who couldn’t break the habit, would be fine with a young, beautiful woman gallivanting around with her beloved.
If Tara was any sort of decent person, she would have toned down her relationship with Steed. But she was in love with him and selfish. She was also young, twenty-two years to be exact, so her behaviour was understandable.
Tara headed over to Steed's flat, eager to go out to lunch with him. She smoothed her red pantsuit and rang his doorbell expectantly.
Steed answered it on the second ring. He was clutching the doorknob with one hand and holding a rack of ties in the other. He stared at her blankly for a moment and then said sheepishly, "We had a luncheon appointment today, didn't we?"
"You'd forgotten?" Tara cried incredulously. "You, who remembered the exact date we met, the year of the champagne we drank three weeks ago, how many bowler hats you've owned in your lifetime, forgot we were having lunch?"
"I'm sorry, but I was assigned to a new case in the tropics! I'm leaving today, and I had to pack immediately." Steed started climbing the stairs to his bedroom, but Tara checked him.
"Oh, Steed, why didn't you tell me you were going! Here I was, thinking you were being inconsiderate by forgetting our date, when all the while you were just teasing me."
Steed slowly descended his spiral staircase, staring confusedly at her. "I don't quite follow you."
"Why, you're taking me with you, aren't you? That’s why you planned this elaborate lunch meeting."
"I—I…you're right about one thing. I am taking someone with me to help me with the case, but it's not you." Steed smiled nervously, waiting for a response.
Tara's face fell to the floor and her lip began to quiver. She waited a moment to control herself and then asked tearfully, "You’re taking Emma, I gather?"
Steed tried unsuccessfully to answer her without hurting her more than she already was. “She is my partner after all, in more ways than one.” He made a feeble attempt to change the subject. "Would you care for a glass of champagne?"
Dumbfounded, Tara stared at him, and then she let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe you, Steed! Taking Emma with you to a tropical paradise is exactly the sort of trouble Mother is hoping for. He’ll use any untoward behaviour to part you two forever. I find this very selfish of you, after all I’ve done to protect you and Emma…"
"What are you carrying on about? Who said what we’re doing is untoward?" Steed glared at her, demanding an explanation.
Tara stopped her ranting and grew wan. "Nobody yet," she faltered quietly, “But you need to guard your movements carefully.”
"Hmm," was all Steed said. "Since my plane leaves at one, and it's half past eleven now, I suggest you hurry along so I can finish packing." Steed started ascending his stairs again. "I should have picked up Mrs. Peel by now," he muttered as he entered his bedroom.
Tara stood at the foot of the staircase. Despite what the rumours at the agency might say, she had never entered Steed's bedroom. As much as she wanted to follow him, she still viewed his private chambers as sacrosanct and verboten. "If you think this conversation is over, you’re gravely mistaken," she shouted. Then she flounced out of the apartment.
If Steed ever heard her last remark, he made no reply. He merely finished packing and ran out the door.
****
Mother had never seen Tara this depressed before in his life. That's why when she peeked her head into his office, looking for his nephew, he knew something was seriously wrong. "What happened?" he demanded as he glided over to her in his wheelchair.
Tara realised too late that her face was revealing her emotions like a blundering amateur. “Nothing,” she lied. “Is Basil around?”
“Shouldn’t you keep better track of your partner?”
“I had no problems when Steed was my partner,” she mumbled. Unfortunately, it was loud enough for Mother to hear.
“Speaking of Steed. Do you know if he left yet for Paradisa Island?”
“He was on his way to pick up Miss Knight.” She chose her words carefully, hoping to mask the anxiety that she felt.
“Wonderful! We’ll soon be able to prove that those two aren’t as professional as they pretend to be. How can two agents in a setting like that not indulge in… disturbing... activities?”
Tara jumped to her friends’ defense. “I mean, they’ve done it before, like the several times Steed took Emma to France, and then there was that time he took her to Scotland for that case... "
"But that was when they were programmed to think Mrs. Peel was unavailable. Naturally, they were more careful." Mother puffed on his cigar. "No, this time I'm going to send Mitchell after them!"
"What will Mitchell do to them?" Tara enquired warily. She had the vaguest suspicion that Mother was planning to do something drastic, something that even she couldn't agree to.
Her apprehension was verified when he explained to her, "Mitchell will watch their behaviour closely, and if he thinks it is out of line with our ministry policies, he will take Miss Knight back to England with him, using physical force if need be. Then, if Steed and Emma continue to behave in such a romantic fashion, we'll separate them permanently… by brainwashing them again, of course."
Tara stared at him, utter turmoil wracking her mind and heart. As much as she wanted Steed for herself, she could never in good conscience be with him if it wasn’t by his own free will. She held her breath and forced her head to nod in agreement. “It looks as though you have a plan. Excuse me, I must find Basil.”
She walked out of his office and down the hall right into a tall, brawny man. "Oh, Smyth, I didn't see you!" Tara exclaimed to the dark haired man in front of her.
"That's quite obvious, Miss King." He stared at her indifferently, his British propriety getting the better of him.
Tara meditated briefly as to whether she should tell Smyth the dastardly plan Mother had in store for the Steed and Peel. Smyth was one of the few other agents, besides Cathy and now herself, who thought that brainwashing was an erroneous procedure. Finally she uttered in an almost inaudible voice, "Steed and Emma are in grave danger, Smyth. Mother is planning on separating them indefinitely. We've got to stop Mother from sending Mitchell to Paradisa Island."
Smyth smiled grimly and replied, "I'll get Cathy, and then we'll see what we can do. When does the plane leave for the Island?"
As if to answer his inquisition, Mother wheeled out of his office with Mitchell close behind him. "The plane leaves at one, but I don't think you can make it," he told Mitchell. "There's another plane that leaves at ten in the morning tomorrow. Be sure you're on it."
"Yes, Mother, as you wish," Mitchell answered dutifully.
Before they could be spotted, Smyth and Tara went their separate ways. It would be too conspicuous if they were both standing together in plain sight. Mother might realise they were scheming to sabotage his plan.
Smyth drove over to the museum immediately after his conversation with Tara. He spotted Cathy only a second after he entered the building and advanced towards her quickly.
Cathy's face lit up at the sight of Smyth, who was her beau. She instantly turned solemn at the sight of his grim face and asked, "What are they doing to Steed now?"
"Oh, nothing much; Mother's just going to separate him and Emma forever."
Cathy rolled her eyes in disgust. "Won't Mother ever learn that he can't win people's respect by controlling them? Furthermore, can't Steed fend for himself?"
"Unfortunately, he can't under the circumstances. It's best not to grumble, my love, and just do our best to help them. Now, Steed and Emma are leaving today at one—" the clock began to chime one o'clock in response— "and Mitchell is following them tomorrow. My plan is to detain Mitchell and go on the airplane instead of him. Tara will be helping us so—"
"Expect everything to go amiss." Cathy sighed and shook her head. "The things I have to tolerate in order to save you, John Steed."
****
Steed smiled as Mrs. Peel hopped into his old Bentley. She stuffed her luggage in the back, turned to face him, and smiled. Suddenly, she clutched her forehead.
"Are you all right, Mrs. Peel?" Steed asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Emma breathed heavily for several minutes and then attempted to smile reassuringly. "I'm quite all right, Steed. I just got a bit dizzy for a moment, but it's nothing to get upset over. I probably moved too quickly when I hopped in.” He was staring at her, unconvinced. “If you want to let me off right now, I can understand. The last thing you need is for your partner to come down with an illness while on the case."
"I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing, just as long as you think you can manage?"
"I think I can just pull myself together." Steed’s expression let her know he was still not convinced. "You'd better start driving, or we'll never get to the airport on time," she reminded him, and finally Steed shifted the car into gear.
Emma was more concerned than she pretended to be, for she had never been one to feel dizzy. Her constitution did not improve any on the long flight across the Atlantic, and by the time they landed in New York, Emma was tired and sicker than before. She thought she hid her illness quite effectively, for Steed didn't ever ask how she was feeling.
However, Steed was still very much aware of her sickly state, and he was beginning to wonder if he should have brought her along in the first place.