CHAPTER NINETEEN.FIVE

They were transported seconds later to the busy intersection of Whitehall and Downing Street in a flash of white. The sound and light were hardly recognized by the business men and women on the street that saw it as an extra gust of wind on a blustery late spring morning.

Brigid woozily moved a few steps forward on the sidewalk before her stomach settled down. “Gods, I hate Flash travel.” she said, wiping her forehead of sweat.

The gremlin meanwhile remained frozen and stared blankly out into the distance. A steady stream of brown and black colored vomit erupted suddenly from the creature’s mouth to the ground. It continued unabated for another twenty seconds before the creature crumpled in a tired heap.

“It could have been a whole lot worse,” Brigid said, picking up the creature in her arms like a baby. “I have seen some vomit blood and other…unpleasant fluids nonstop for an entire fortnight.”

“Dat ees kahmforting,” the gremlin uttered weakly, resting on the goddess’ formidable bicep.

***

After a five minute walk, the two of them arrived across the traffic lanes from 10 Downing Street. The front gate was guarded by a small contingent of people from the DPG. One of the guards listened from a walkie talkie to commands made by unseen superior officers while another was stationed near a metal detector screening important Cabinet staff as they entered the building. Brigid lowered the gremlin to the ground. It seemed to be recovering from the initial planetary jump.

“Yahou wahnt me to slip pahst them,” it asked upon viewing the large mass of humans. The creature started to back away and nervously laugh at the prospect as more slime excreted from its hands.

“There has to be some type of special trick that can work in this situation,” she said encouragingly, nudging him back in the direction of the building.

The gremlin stared up to the sky contemplating different options for a few long seconds. He stopped and let out a cheerful squeal before saying, “Byxordrooper!”

The creature set off in a beeline toward 10 Downing Street as Brigid watched from afar. The guard lowered the walkie talkie back to his belt clip and returned to patrol with his associate as the gremlin slipped by them. Before the creature entered, he messed around with the man’s belt causing his slacks to drop down seconds after the gremlin slinked inside. His associate looked on and laughed hysterically along with the other DPG officers as the offended guard fumbled for cover and reattached his belt.

Brigid waited patiently from across the street, laughing slightly at the physical comedy going on. The minutes passed by with no further development. The comedy ended and business continued as an assortment of bureaucrats and commoners came and went from the building at a steady pace.

Six minutes later, alarms blared from within 10 Downing Street. The security personnel readied their weapons and streamed into the building en masse. Brigid smiled from the other side of the street at the new development.

“Now it’s my turn!” she said, changing her clothes back to a more earth-friendly design. She then calmly walked toward the building behind a group of workers who exited.

Their confused and scared mannerisms created the perfect cover for her as she strolled in without arousing the suspicion of anyone in the immediate area. Another man came out of the door at the same moment that she was attempting to get inside, slightly knocking her off-course.

“Sorry about that,” Brigid said, patting the man on the shoulder. “I thought I may have misplaced something in my cubicle.”

“It’s alright, love.” The man replied, giving her a wink before exiting. She looked back and shuddered in disgust as she opened the door once again and stepped inside.

***

Brigid’s eyes darted all around the lower floor of the building to appear incognito as the blare of the alarm was octaves in volume higher in the building than it did outside. She set out looking for any type of room that was out of the ordinary, passing people rushing about as she walked. She was bumped into once again by another bureaucrat from the office.

“Watch it lady!” The man groaned at her annoyingly.

She glared back at the bureaucrat with an equal level of annoyance. He was dressed in a gray business suit. He bore a striking resemblance to Gordon Ramsay with his wrinkly, weathered face and thin crop of dark blonde hair. The man glared at her for a couple of beats before turning away.

Brigid crossed the remaining portion of the lower floor, arriving at the lifts a short time later. One set of the metal doors across from her opened, disgorging a group of six people who headed for the front door. The group included some important Cabinet level staff who continued speaking to each other about the minutes of a meeting that had taken place before. As the group pushed past her, Brigid ran for cover behind a cubicle wall.

She made herself silent. She gazed over the edge of the wall and watched as the group walked out of the building. A few moments later, Brigid spun around the side of the wall and slowly made her way back to the lifts. In keeping with the hasty tempo of her search, she reached out and pressed her hand on the control panel just below the white “Down Arrow” button.

“With great and expeditious speed,” Brigid chanted. “Metal machine, come to life and open for me.”

She repeated the chant over and over in the same inconspicuous tone for thirty seconds, trying her best to summon the lift to her. After a few minutes of difficult effort, Brigid could feel the metal means of transportation slowly coming down to her. Finally, the lift dinged and the doors swung open. What she did not plan for was finding out those doors belonged to the other lift.

“That should be sufficient.” Brigid grinned, immediately stepping inside the lift moments before the doors closed.

When the lift doors opened a minute later, she walked along the light purple colored carpet which covered much of the third floor, carefully examining every corner of the office space for anything out of the ordinary. All she could see were the now empty cubicles and the various knick knacks left behind set to employees.

“Hey you, stop right there!” The voice stopped Brigid in her tracks.

She turned to see a member of the DPG standing a few feet away. He was dressed in a dark black suit and red tie. His badge was fixed on a wallet that bulged from the pocket of his coat above his gun holster. The man pulled out his walkie talkie slowly while keeping his focus intently on the mystery woman.

“All government personnel are supposed to be out of the building,” the DPG officer bellowed over the sound of the alarm. “What are you still doing in here, ma’am?”

“I was in a teleconference with an investment firm based in Scotland. Ran a little later than expected,” Brigid said taking a couple of steps toward the officer. “I didn’t hear the alarm till just now.”

The DPG officer did not look satisfied by her answer. “Let me see your ID, please,” he said, extending his hand out to her.

She stalled for a few moments, moving her hand towards her purse to grab her Molltach. I don’t want to fight him, she thought. But the greater mission must be followed, even if it damages an innocent. As she started to pull her miniature weapon out of her purse, the man took a large step back and closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, the man convulsed and shook wildly in the middle of the emptied office space. This looks familiar, she thought as it continued for another minute before he froze once again. The officer’s eyes opened up again, revealing an extra fiery glint. At that point, Brigid knew who was behind this all.

“You think I was going to let you roam about the halls of Downing Street without support, Kòmandan?” The officer said in a Cajun accent.

“’Tis a pleasant and entirely unexpected surprise, Ghed,” Brigid said, letting the Molltach drop back in her purse before it could transform. “I thought you were covering the sex scandal.”

“After I heard about Jar, I had a hunch you might need an extra pair of eyes,” she replied. “Speaking of which, he’s in the door across from the portrait of Tony Blair.”

The officer winked and saluted Brigid as she continued out of the room. Ghed then went over to the staircase and took out the walkie talkie. “All is clear.” She declared in her best impersonation of the DPG officer before exiting his body.

***

Brigid continued through the office space till she spied a long hallway leading to the distance. She could faintly see the outline of doors on either side leading up to the end of it. As she slowly moved up the hallway, she noticed there was something hanging on the walls next to the nearest door. That has to be it, she thought. A couple of steps later, Brigid saw the portrait of the first Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole, hanging on the wall.

The portraits were arranged in ascending order going back to the formation of the office leading up to modern times. She carefully examined each portrait one by one till she arrived a couple of minutes later at the portrait of Tony Blair. The portrayal of the man shown on the canvas seemed to Brigid to foretell the dual halves of the man’s time in office. There was the smile and a sense of great optimism in the beginning mixed with the hardship in his weary, sorrowful eyes signifying the end of his term.

Brigid wasted no time examining every inch of the painting, looking for any kind of doorknob behind it. All she could feel was the rough texture of the canvas upon her fingertips. After a couple more tries, she came across a bump in the middle right part of the painting underneath Mr. Blair’s chest. She searched around a little more and realized that the bump was in fact a doorknob. She slowly lifted the painting, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and turned it.

The light streamed out from the hallway down the descending staircase, ending twenty feet down at a ratty looking door. A bitter chill rushed up the stairway hitting Brigid in the legs and arms. “Anseo sinn gabh,” she said, blowing warmth into her open hand for a few seconds before embarking on the first step.

She descended the concrete steps steadily one by one. The only light she had to see her way was the glow of the door above that bounced off the gray rock walls on both sides. The incessant horn of the fire alarm faded with each step down, replaced a short time later by the sounds of a commotion coming from beyond the door. At last she arrived at the bottom.

Brigid took a couple of steps forward toward the wooden door and pressed her ear on it. What she heard were the sounds of punches and agonized groans coming from some poor soul. She grabbed hold of the doorknob with her right hand and blew a single breath. The piece of metal shook inside her hand for a few seconds before stopping altogether. Brigid effortlessly popped the knob out of its hole like a loose screw and pushed the door open.

The room was gray and cold. It looked as if it had been a fallout shelter in a previous life. The only source of light came from a bare bulb that was hung on the ceiling above her. It formed an illuminated sphere through a fifteen foot portion of the room, revealing Jar’Ed’s unconscious body, bound and gagged on a chair. She pulled out her Molltach without a second’s thought. Over his body, she could see flickers of light coming from some source that was hidden in the darkness. She could also see the tattered remains of Jar’Ed’s shirt clumped in a pile on the ground nearby.

“Clever little trick getting here,” the voice lamented, walking to her from the shadows. “A shame whatever you did will be for naught. You could have been a most useful ally in our new order!”

“Lugh!”

“Not so fast, lass!” As she was about to go on the attack, two men came out from both sides and grabbed her by the arms.

She thrashed around for a couple of moments, trying to break free from the two mystery assailants. The resulting movement caused Brigid to drop her phone and purse on the floor. She squirmed to see who her captors were. They were perfect copies of Lugh with the same hair, eyes, physique, and armored clothing as the original.

“Cluain Eois,” she uttered in amazement before turning her attention to the three Lughs standing in front of her. “Where is the original?”

“He is outside on the street with the rest of the humans,” Lugh Two replied holding back her wrist. “They have no idea of this place.”

“For all they know, this is an abandoned shelter from a long abandoned war,” Lugh Three chimed in holding her other wrist.

“Which means you are in a very…perilous position, little miss,” said Lugh One with an evil smile, stopping a foot away from her.

“You’ll never be able to complete the spell without a massive source of power.” Brigid said.

The two Lughs chuckled, pulling her back. “I knew there was more than Jar’Ed let on!” Lugh One uttered.

She grinned. “I have good sources!”

A split second later Brigid delivered a standing side kick to the stomach of Lugh Two. The doppelganger stumbled backwards as he let go of her. She followed with a sidekick and an uppercut to Lugh Three that sent him sprawling to the ground, freeing her other arm. Lugh One stepped back from the melee, watching as his two associates writhed on the ground.

“We are not your enemy, Brigid,” Lugh One remarked as he reached for his sword. “We seek the same goals you do. We want to save these people from a miserable fate.”

“What makes you believe these humans need saving?” Brigid asked

“Don’t be a fool,” he barked. “You see it every day. How humankind speaks of peace, yet conjures up thousands of ways to destroy each other. How they wish for a clean and pristine environment, yet have no qualms degrading it in the name of personal comfort. They are begging for a savior.”

In Brigid’s hands, the Molltach morphed into a majestic sword. “And your original will be that savior.”

“Fighting me will only delay the inevitable,” Lugh One chuckled, brandishing his own weapon. “Your friend Jar’Ed should be proof of that.”

The two began to circle around: each calculating potential moves against the other. Tension rose with each passing second. Finally, they charged at one another and swung. The room filled with the sounds of metal clanging in a deftly harmonious fashion as the goddess and the doppelganger exchanged blows inside the confines of the illuminated circle.

“You had a modicum of good once, Lugh,” Brigid cried. “What in the name of the Gods happened?”

“Power!”

Brigid was the first to strike, slicing the top of Lugh One’s shoulder as he charged toward her. The doppelganger stumbled back grimacing in pain. “Lucky shot!” he uttered, as he squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to heal himself. It healed a brief moment just in time to absorb the blow of Brigid’s sword.

The room filled once again with the sound of clanging metal. They fought on. At times one side would gain an advantage for a ten second spurt, then the other would counter with an offensive burst of their own another ten seconds. And so on back and forth. Eventually, the tide began to shift in Brigid’s favor.

She delivered a series of blows all over Lugh One’s body forcing him to the ground and the sword out of his hand. She stood above the doppelganger with her sword raised ready to deliver the final blow. Suddenly, Lugh Two and Lugh Three rushed in and tackled Brigid. She was able to drive Lugh Three far away from the action, but not before Lugh Two thrust his blade at her. She countered defensively and the two of them fought for a couple of moments. Finally, the doppelganger speared her to the ground and drove his blade deep into her midsection. She grimaced in pain, covering the wound as the doppelganger rose to his feet with his blade.

“Resistance is pointless, Ollathair,” Lugh Two said ominously as her blood dripped from the edge of his blade. “Accept the inevitable.”

“The Earth will be cleansed,” Lugh One said, rising to join Lugh Two. “And the original will reign over all with more power and omnipotence than the All Father Dagda ever had!”

“For an ambivalent genius, or part of one in your case,” Brigid said, slowly rising to her feet. “You have forgotten one rather important thing about me: We Danaans are notoriously hard to kill!”

She let out a warrior’s cry and charged the two Lughs with her blade, swinging at them with great skill and fury. The doppelgangers tried their best to counter each of her lightning fast moves as they were driven to the very edge of the circle. But even with their vast skill, they were unable to keep from being driven to the ground. She paused over the body of Lugh Two then sank her blade deep into the doppelganger straight through to the other side. He reached down to feel the wound and saw the blood trickle down from his hand.

“You fool,” Lugh Two said, weakly laughing. “We don’t need to beat you, merely distract you!”

The end of the statement struck Brigid as Lugh Two faded into ash. Lugh Three charged her once again. Brigid turned around just in time to counter the doppelganger before it struck.

They traded dueling jabs with their swords inside the illuminated circle. A couple of minutes later, Lugh Three had her cornered on the southern edge of the circle. She noticed Lugh One in the gleam of the blade, observing shortly before slinking away. The distraction was enough for Lugh Three to gain the upper hand. He knocked the goddess’ sword from her hand and slammed her to the ground.

He took three steps toward her. He raised his sword to the sky and quickly plunged it deep into the left quadrant of Brigid’s torso. Brigid fell to her knees and cried out in pain before crumbling to the ground again. She watched helplessly as Lugh Three wiped the blood off his blade and slipped it back into its sheath. He went down on one knee and leaned toward the defeated goddess.

“Like I said, lass,” he said, gently lifting Brigid’s head up. “It is inevitable.”

A short while later, Lugh Three faded away like sand in the breeze. Brigid crawled on the ground with every inch of energy not being used to heal. She walked over to the edge of the circle and picked up her purse from the ground, looping it over her shoulder. She slowly picked herself up off the ground. She turned her attention to the unconscious Jar’Ed. The goddess felt his neck for any sign of a pulse to no avail. Somehow he had died.

“You will pay for this Lugh,” she said, feeling her eyes water up over her friend’s demise. “I will make deathly certain of that!”

She sliced the bonds from Jar’Ed. Outside the cold gray room, the robotic horns of the fire alarm had finally died down. They were replaced a short time later by an equally robotic voice bellowing through the halls of 10 Downing Street speaking two words: “All clear.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 20