Crooks' Tours: Part Nineteen

As the Green Man plunged into the blazing structure, timbers falling all around him. Only his fire-proofed coat, hat and mask kept him from being seriously burned. Once packed with wicked men, the house was empty now. Any sensible man would have backed away, but the Green Man was made of sterner stuff. Plunging through the furnace, the Green Man searched for the door to the secondary control room.

When at last he located it, the door turned out to be locked solid. Drawing his gun, the avenger of evil shot out the lock, before hurrying into the control room.

If the rest of the house was blazing from end to end, the control room remained quite undamaged, proofed against everything, prsumably so as to allow the missile to be launched even if the castle was under siege. The destruct button was there, if only he could find it!

Although safe from the flames, the Green Man could still feel the heat, documents in the wall-cabinets bursting into flames. The Green Man mopped his brow, as he busied himself about his work. There was a thoroughness in the Green Man's search, for he knew there would be no second chances.

At last, the Green Man found a small red button. Pressing it, he saw the missile's trace fade from the scanner. London, at least, was safe, for the rocket must have detonated in the upper atmosphere.

Turning to the door, the Green Man hurried back through the blazing building, an almost suicidal act. But the Green Man was nothing if not fearless. Plunging through the inferno, the Green Man emerged from the building, smoke-blackened, short of breath, but indisputably alive.

"London's safe," he told the Outsider.