Crooks' Tours: Part Fourteen

As the Grey Tabby's ruthless mercenaries fanned out into the city of Norwich, only the Territorial Army and a few brave citizens stood against the evil men. And the Green Man, who moved silently among the alleys and streets of the ancient city, dragging men to their doom, wiping out scattered patrols.

But not even the strange strength of the Green Man could prevent the Grey Tabby's troops from pushing on towards the city centre. Still, the destruction of a couple of their Armoured Personnel Carriers caused a few men some concern.

The troops sent to secure the Anglia Square shopping centre did not get there, as the Green Man made short work of the battle-hardened troops. Every man in the company died, falling victim to the Green Man's deadly fists and gun. Frightened citizens of the city cheered, as the mysterious figure in green hurled the company's leader from the Magadelen Street Flyover.

"There are people who will fight!" The Green Man assured the cheering crowds.

In the City Centre, as the Territorial Army began to flag, three men fell victim to a succession of deadly crossbow bolts. Before their fellows could do anything, the Outsider materialised, silent and deadly.

Crooks' Tours: Part Thirteen

The city of Norwich is a contrast to the county, a financial powerhouse, home of the mighty Norwich Union financial corporation, the city has long been a home to financial businesses, with Virgin Money and parts of the almost monopolistic Royal Bank of Scotland having joined the mighty insurance firm. Still, parts of the city retain their medieval street plan, and throughout the city, the historic rubs shoulders with the modern. It was in the Northern part of the city, close to an old railway station, that the Grey Tabby's mercenaries struck. Before the commuters could get as far as work, the men had streamed out of their armoured personell carriers, onto the streets.

Soon, explosions rocked the northern part of the city. The old station building, where a detatchment of the Territorial Army holed up, was reduced to a ruin. Threatened with the destruction of London, the Government refused to commit troops from the West of the county.

The mercenaries fanned out into residential streets, as more began to arrive, forcing residents to stay inside. Schools were closed, and policemen shot down. The brutal mercenaries, trained in the hardest combat theatres of the previous decades, started to lock down the neighbourhood of crowded terraces and tall fences, combing the area for any troublemakers.

One patrol of seven men, moving towards the Norwich Union buildings on Sussex Street, moving through an alleyway, were stopped in their tracks by the sight of a lone figure.

"Good Morning," said the Green Man.

Crooks' Tours: Part Twelve

Lady Sylvia watched in horror, as a series of explosions tore the room apart. The Grey Tabby laughed in triumph, his finger still on a button on his desk.

"And so," he turned to the brunette, smiling triumphantly, "the Green Man passes from the scene, and a new leader of the criminals of Europe emerges."

"After you took all that money for the Republic of London?" Lady Sylvia shook her head. "You know..."

"What you don't know, Lady Sylvia," the Grey Tabby shot back, "is that every one of my backers is now either dead or in prison after a series of anonymous tip-offs."

"If they find out, they'll be mad," Lady Sylvia smiled, trying not to look she was on the verge of tears.

"If!" the Grey Tabby laughed mockingly. "You know that there is no honour among thieves."

"naturally," the brunette nodded. "I used to work for you, after all. And what about your new plan?"

"That will succeed!" the Grey Tabby declared, "and those who are with me shall become rich beyond their wildest dreams!"

"And there was I hoping you'd attack them," Lady Sylvia shrugged. "And after I managed to turn on the Public Address system."

"But I had noticed," the Grey Tabby turned it off. "Now, Lady Sylvia, you are to go to your room, change and come down in an hour, to see my assault on Norfolk begin."

"No." She shook her head firmly.

"Are you afraid?" the villain asked her menacingly.

"Nope," Lady Sylvia replied spiritedly. "I just wanted to take a shower and fix my hair."

Crooks' Tours: Part Eleven

The Green Man did not hear the gloatingof the Grey Tabby, as he pressed on into the castle (and who can be surprised, when the supervillain was in another room, a long way away). A man tried to shoot him from the gallery of another of the castle's cavernous halls, but the Green Man saw him first. He died in a moment, and the sinister figure in green moved on, whistling a haunting melody.

Kicking open another door, the Green Man scanned the room. Leaping inside, he dodged the automatic crossbows, shaking his head.

"Someone's short on originality," the Green Man chuckled. Another shot took out a poorly-hidden security camera. At once, gas flooded the room. Clapping on a gas-mask, the Green Man moved on. When the door at the end of the room proved locked, the Green Man shot out the lock. Re-loading, the Green Man moved on, further into the maze of rooms that comprised the Castle.

The room he moved into was a small ante-chamber, one door of which swung open to reveal what appeared to be a study. There, seated behind a desk, was the figure of Marcus Coote. He was flanked by armed men and looked very unfriendly.

"Welcome," he smiled at the Green Man. "You have come far, but now my chief will have his revenge."

As he finished speaking, the room exploded.

Crooks' Tours: Part Ten

Reaching up, the Green Man plucked a spear from the wall. Ducking, he pinned a man to the wall. Dropping to the floor, the Green Man picked up his gun and fired. Four men fell dead, as the Green Man rose once more.

"Believe it or not," the Green Man laughed, "I was expecting something of that sort. "It was all too easy. Now, who wants to die first?"

The men looked somewhat confused, allowing the Green Man to shoot a couple more.

"Each one of you," the Green Man laughed, "is a killer. And killers have to die." Another man was shot. The remaining men turned and ran. The Green Man moved on, reloading his gun.

Lady Sylvia laughed, as she watched the Green Man on a television screen. Turning to the Grey Tabby, she smiled.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked.

"On the contrary," the villain laughed wickedly, "I haven't even started."

Crooks' Tours: Part Nine

The Green Man made short work of the men in the lodge. Although they were all feared mercenaries, the men ended up on the floor, most of them dead. Leaving a card behind him, the Green Man moved on, into the castle grounds, drawing his revolver. Keeping low, camoflaged by the verdant greenery, the Green Man approached the soaring towers of the Castle. Checking the radio sensor that detected the homing beacon on Lady Sylvia's shoe, he looked up at the mighty tower.

The mysterious figure in green crept across the lawn, looking out for gunmen. When he saw none, the Green Man checked the French windows. The one nearest to him opened, drawing a smile from the Green Man. Nevertheless, he swung open the door, walking into a pleasant room.

From there, the Green Man entered a stately gothic hall. There was a broad table, laid as if for a meal, along with spears and other weapons. The Green Man registered these with a smile, moving towards the fireplace.

The doors to the room burst open, admitting numerous armed mercenaries. Turning, the Green Man raised his hands, letting his gun drop from his hands.

"And now," the leader of the mercenaries laughed, "we shall see who's under the mask."

Crooks' Tours: Part Eight

Lady Sylvia looked at the smiling figure of the Grey Tabby. Despite the awful sinking feeling in her stomach, she was determined to show true British grit. Drawing up her shoulders, she looked the master-criminal in the eye.

"You won't get away with it," she told him defiantly.

"If all the people of Britain were like you and the other associates of the Green Man," the Grey Tabby laughed, "then I would agree, but the people of Britain are soft, weak. Show them a little suffering, and they'll demand that the government caves in."

"Hitler thought that," Lady Sylvia shot back. "So did Galtieri and the Kaiser."

"But Hitler reckoned without Churchill," the Grey Tabby rose grandly, "Galtieri without Thatcher, the Kaiser without Lloyd George. Britain's leaders today are weak, effete"

"But you've forgotten the Green Man," Lady Sylvia replied.

At the Castle's lodge, a group of uniformed mercenaries watched the road, waiting for a delivery of weapons that had landed on Blakeney Point that morning. A movement in the woods caused a sentry to start. Looking again, he saw nothing.

"What is it?" one of the men looked up at his comrade.

"I thought I saw something move," the mercenary shook his head, "something green."

"Probably a tree," the man laughed. "Now, get back to watching the road."

"It's too late for that." A voice from the door caused the men to turn.

The Green Man leapt forward, a strong fist slamming into the jaw of the man closest to him.

Crooks' Tours: Part Seven

"You?" Lady Sylvia looked incredulously at the sinister figure behind the desk. He glared back at her.

"That's right, Lady Sylvia - or should I say Miss Jones?" the Grey Tabby replied, voice stern and sinister. "You may have ruined my plan to create an independent London, a refuge for the criminal classes of Europe, but you did not destroy me."

"So what are you up to this time?" the brunette demanded angrily.

"You'd believe me if I said it was simply revenge," the Grey Tabby smiled wickedly. "If I'd just concocted this whole scheme to attract the Green Man and his agents, like moths to a flame."

"Actually," the young aristocrat replied spiritedly, "I wouldn't. You see, I know you, Grey Tabby, and I know you wouldn't go to all this just to get revenge. You're much too greedy, Tabby."

"Thank you," the Grey Tabby laughed. "You're right, of course. I am the managing director of Crooks' Tours. As you know, Lady Sylvia, it is my contention that the weakness of organised crime is that it is organised on strictly amateur lines. If crime was run like any other major business, revenue would be far higher than it is. Given that the major reason for criminals being forced to give up their professions is that they are too well known by the local police."

"We've already worked that out," Lady Sylvia replied.

"But what no-one knows," the Grey Tabby laughed, "is that I'm building an army of crooks here. If you know your local history, Lady Sylvia, you will know that, in the sixteenth century, a man called Robert Kett led an army of peasants to take Norwich. I intend to use my army of crooks to take Norwich. My criminal state will be Norfolk."

"You'll never get away with it," Lady Sylvia shot back bravely.

"But I will..." the Grey Tabby laughed softly. "You see, within the tower of this castle is a missile, a small missile, but a missile equipped with a nuclear warhead. More than enough to destroy London. And we both know, my dear Lady Sylvia, that the Government will do anything to save its own skin.

Crooks' Tours: Part Six

Lady Sylvia was somewhat pleased when she came to. She was very glad that the gas had been knock-out gas, not poison. Stretching, she examined the ceiling of the room she was in. It was the heavy mock-tudor favoured by the Victorians. It had to be the Castle, she thought.

Rising from the soft bed she had been laid in, Lady Sylvia crossed to the door. She was not surprised to find it locked. She scolded herself for ignoring the Green Man's warnings. She ought to have expected an alarm or booby-trap of some kind.

"Awake, my dear?" someone knocked on the door. Lady Sylvia stepped back from the door, readying herself for an escape attempt.

The portly figure of Mr. Coote stepped through the door, a gun in his hand. Raising her hands, the young aristocrat stepped away from the door.

"You're a sensible girl, Lady Sylvia," Coote laughed. "You don't have a chance."

Lady Sylvia moved swiftly, catching the portly Coote off-guard. She was able to knock him backwards. A high-kick sent him falling across the bed. Not waiting to follow up her advantge, Lady Sylvia bolted.

A cry from the end of the corridor sent Lady Sylvia running through the nearest door, into an airy study with a great bay window in it, a massive desk dominating the room. She drew back with a gasp at the sight of the figure at the desk.

"Good evening, my dear," said the Grey Tabby.

Crooks' Tours: Part Five

The Castle consisted of an old house with a huge extension that looked about a hundred and fifty years old. Lady Sylvia could only smile at the showiness of it all. Her father, an earl, lived in a real castle, and this looked just like so much fake to her. Even the liveried footmen looked like extras. And yes, Lady Sylvia was a snob.

"And you, my dear," a middle-aged man who bore a resemblance to Adolphe Menjou, took her hand, "must be the fragrant Lady Sylvia Vaughan."

"Right first time," she beamed peppily. "And you have to be Marcus Coote, the chap who owns all this. It's a nice house."

"Nothing on Mainstone, I'm told," he replied, still smiling.

"That's not hard," she laughed charmingly. "So, how do you spend your days, Mr. Coote? I'm told you used to work for a living."

"But now I follow the example of my better," he shot back. "Now, excuse me, Lady Sylvia, but I see a Justice of the Peace who wants to talk to me. Make yourself at home."

"But of course," the brunette let him go. As soon as she was left alone, she headed off into the caverous halls of the castle, searching for Coote's study.

She slipped off her shoes as she climbed a flight of stairs, towards the newest section of the house. If her father's house was anything to go by, that would be where the living quarters were.

She was half-way up the stairs when something gave way under her feet. she fell heavily onto the stairs, and a jet of gas hit her in the face. Her head span a couple of times, before she passed out cold. As darkness claimed her, Lady Sylvia heard someone laughing, very close at hand.

Crooks' Tours: Part Four

Lady Sylvia had been wondering just when the Green Man would show up. She now supposed that he must make a habit of showing up when his poor, hard-pressed assistant worked out what was going on. And with this elderly man present, he had been forced out of the woodwork.

"And you..." Mr. Nicholson smiled wryly, "are the Green Man, Lady Sylvia, may I..."

"I know," the young aristocrat smiled back. "I'm one of the Green Man's agents. That's why I'm here."

"So you're here for the same reason I am, then," the elderly detective chuckled. "And you fooled me pretty well, Lady Sylvia. My congratulations."

"Think nothing of it," she laughed. "Now, why don't you tell me about Coote of the castle?"

"Not much to tell, my dear," he bowed, "only that Mr. Coote bought the castle a few years ago. He was a lawyer specialising in handling the defence for members of the underworld, but retired under a cloud. Now he pretends to be a country gentleman, but I believe he's using the Castle and his contacts to run a labour exchange for crooks. I'd be able to find out more if I could only find a way in."

"And I," the Green Man told Mr. Nicholson, "feel just the same way. But Coote would never ask someone with your connections to detection to his house. Burglary could be done, but that would alert him, and the agency would close down."

"But a great big snob like Marcus Coote doesn't need to be asked to invite some people," Lady Sylvia beamed proudly. "Take a good look, guys," she struck a pose, "I'm invited to a party at Mr. Coote's Castle tonight."

"Just a whisper of a title..." Ralph Nicholson sighed.

"The wicked," the Green Man declared, "are often shallow. Just be careful, Lady Sylvia. Remember, you are still very inexperienced."

"How can I forget?" Lady Sylvia smiled sweetly. "My brother always reminds me of that. And I won't be alone."

Crooks' Tours: Part Three

Lady Sylvia looked a little concerned at the news. Since the Green Man had not told her what was going on, but left her to work things out for herself. She supposed it must be because she was new, and the Green Man was testing her.

"Really?" she asked Mr. Nicholson.

"Really," he nodded, his manner a little patronising. Lady Sylvia wondered if he thought she was some air-headed aristocrat. "And there have been crimes committed in Glasgow by London Villains, two members of the Cardiff Mafia were shot dead in Corsica last year. Put simply, my dear, over the last few years, crooks from different parts of the world have been travelling to work with mobs where their faces are not known."

"How do you know?" Lady Sylvia narrowed her pretty eyes.

"Because, my dear," Mr. Nicholson drawled pleasantly, "I am not simply the old duffer at the Old Rectory. Ralph Nicolson, Principal of the Nicholson Detective agency."

"So you know your stuff," Lady Sylvia smiled. "Do you know who the man doing this is?"

"I have a suspect," he told her, as they reached the gate of the Hall. "Look over there -" he pointed across the park to a large house, with pinnacles and towers "-that is Prior's Castle, bought seven years ago by Marcus Coote. And I think Coote's the man running this."

"And so do I." The two turned, as the Green Man stepped out of the trees behind them.

Crooks' Tours: Two

Lady Sylvia struggled with the man briefly, before knocking him to the ground with the haft of her riding crop. Unsure of what to do next, she let him flee, while she saw to the fallen figure. She had assumed that it would be the typical damsel in distress, instead, it was an elderly man with a neat moustache and traces of latin ancestry.

"I must thank you," he looked up, "you seem a most spirited young thing, Miss..."

"Lady," she lowered her eyes. "Lady Sylvia Vaughan, I'm staying with Val Tarrant at Prior's Hill Park."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Sylvia," the man rose to his feet, dusting himself off. "I'm Ralph Nicholson, renting the Old Rectory. Visit me, if you have the time."

"Of course," Lady Sylvia laughed. "Now, do you know the man who was attacking you?"

"It depends," the man bowed graciously. "If you mean, did I know that swine personally and oft-times share a pint down the local inn with him, then no - mostly as I don't carry pocket tests for poison everywhere with me. But if you mean, do I know who he was, then I did."

"And who was he?" the young aristocrat asked.

"Joe Perelli," the old man told her "-a vicious New York thug who decided very suddenly last month to take a holiday in Norfolk. Since when there have been five robberies committed here that answer exactly to his modus operandi."

Crooks' Tours: Part one

Prior's Hill Park, Norfolk, nestled in the park it had occupied for centuries. From atop her horse, Lady Sylvia looked down on the beautiful mansion and sighed. The park wasn't as lovely as her beloved Mainstone, but it was almost as nice. And the house was more convenient. After all, Mainstone had been bought because no-one else wanted it, while the Tarrants had owned Prior's Hill Park for centuries. And she, as a well-known debutante, was more than welcome. And they had no idea she was the Green Man's agent.

A scream rent the still air. Digging her heels into the flanks of her steed, Lady Sylvia galloped across the park to the source of the scream. She saw a man in a fawn mac, bending over the prone figure of someone else.

"Hey!" she cried out hotly, "what do you think..."

A gunshot rang out, Lady Sylvia ducked, spurring her horse onwards, zig-zagging to avoid the man's shots. As the reached him, she struck out with her riding-crop. The man dropped his gun, and Lady Sylvia leapt from her horse onto him.

Carnage on the HIgh Seas: Fourteen

The sailing yacht cut through the clear blue water, heading for a small island, one of the outlying islets of the Bahamas. The Green Man, masked and swathed, was at the whell, while to informally attired girls constituted the crew.

"What beats me," Lady Sylvia sighed, "is how you managed to track us down," she gave the Green Man a signifiacnt look.

"Ms. Madison," the Green Man explained, "carried a tracking device. I gave it to her rather than to you when I learned Rostov would be on board the liner, and that one of his associates had been on each of the liners from wich people disappeared. Knowing that the late Colonel had a soft spot for Ms. Madison, she agreed to appear to yield to his manly charms in order to find out exactly what was going on."

"And what if Rostov had rumbled her?" Lady Sylvia sounded worried.

"There was never," Ms. Madison sighed, "a danger of that. Rostov was such a conceited thug that the moment I melted in his arms he stopped suspecting me. But I'm not doing that sort of thing in a hurry. For one thing, Mike would never forgive me. He's waiting for me in Nassau, you know."

"Is this where we say goodbye?" Lady Sylvia looked concerned.

"Until the next time," Ms. Madison laughed. "You're flying back to England Post-Haste, back to Mainstone, then on to Prior's Hill, just outside Norwich. I've got a holiday booked - and we're needed."

Carnage on the High Seas: Thirteen

Ms. Madison drew back, her breath catching in her throat. Lady Sylvia screamed so loudly that Ms. Madison was afraid she might be left deaf. The Sheikh laughed at the girls, anticipating their helplesness.

Until Ms. Madison shot him through the head.

"Come on!" she grabbed the young aristocrat's hand, "we have to get to the control room before the Royal Navy gets out of range! This island has a private army on it!"

"And Rostov?" the brunette asked.

"Dead or about to die!" Ms. Madison shouted back, as she sprinted through the door of the control room. The men there saluted her, allowing the two girls to make short work of them. While Ms. Madison smashed up the control device, Lady Sylvia ran to the microphone.

"Royal Navy squadron!" she exclaimed, "come in! This is Lady Sylvia Vaughan."

"Slyv!" a hearty voice came through the ether, "this is Admiral Sir George Brett! How's my favourite niece?"

"All the better for hearing you, uncle!" Lady Slvia laughed with relief. "Listen, I'm on Colonel Rostov's secret island base. Home on my signal!"

"Wilco, Sylv!" the noble Admiral laughed. "We're onto it!"

"Well?" the Green Man stepped into the control room. "Did you speak to them?"

"Well, of course!" Lady Sylvia laughed, "and the officer commanding's my uncle, George Brett. That means they've got at leat one carrier with them!"

"In that case," the Green Man told the girls, "we just need to get out of here."

Carnage on the High Seas: Twelve

"You can't win, Green Man," Colonel Rostov snarled, dawing back from the masked figure. "I am the finest swordsman in Europe."

"Everyone has to lose some time," the Green Man moved forwards, his blade darting at the Colonel's face. The vicious mercenary was only just able to dodge. Drawing a knife from his belt, he thre it at the masked figure, who only batted it aside with something akin to contempt.

With a snarl, Rostov leapt forward. Hero and villain crossed blades. Rostov glared at the Green Man, as he easily absorbed all the blows rained on him. The Green Man laughed, parrying another thrust.

"Do you think that I could be the terror of the underworld and not be able to match a villain like you?" he mocked, his blade grazing Rostov's side.

"You are a devil!" Rostov cried, "a devil and not a man!"

"No," the Green Man shook his head. "Soon you will know what a devil is."

Rostov saw the Green Man drop his guard for a moment. He took his chance. Too late, the ruthless mercenary realised that he had miscalculated. He felt the burning pain, as the Green Man's sword punctured his chest.

Rostov's lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

The girls ran down a corridor, Ms. Madison leading the way.

"So you only pretended!" Lady Sylvia cried after Ms. Madison.

"And Max fell for it!" the blonde laughed. "Now we have to get the control room before they restore power! Before the Sheikh can activate his device."

"That will be hard when you are dead."

The girls came to a dead stop. There, in front of them, was the Sheikh, a gun in each hand.

Carnage on the High Seas: Eleven

"The Green Man..." Rostov chuckled, before turning to Ms. Madison, a look of sly regret on his handsome face. "So, my darling Lynette, you have betrayed me."

"No," Ms. Madison shooh her head firmly. "I have betrayed no-one, Max. "And you should have known me better than to think I would. I just distracted you."

"Which you did very capably," the mercenary bowed gallantly. "But you have made one fatal mistake, my love. The Green Man must have been on that liner, and I have the passenger list."

"My yacht lies just of the island," the Green Man laughed, "hidden by radar jamming devices. So you can forget that, Rostov. Your wicked plan is finished."

"Not if I can finish you first!" Rostov cried, drawing his sword.


"That's some 'if.'" The Green Man drew a sword, shedding his hat and coat. "En garde, Colonel. Ms. Madison, Lady Sylvia, find that transmitter and destroy it. Then send a radio signal telling anyone who may be listening that this is a nest of international mercenaries."

"But who'll listen?" Rostov presented arms. "This island if off the shipping lanes, and I have an army here."

"The Royal Navy is steaming past here in a few hours," the Green Man replied, "on their way to a joint amphibious exercise with the United States. Several frigates and an aircraft carrier loaded with Commandos."

"But you will not live long enough to enjoy your triumph!" Rostov sprung on the Green Man, thrusting his sword at the masked man. It was parried easily.

"We shall see, Colonel," the Green Man chuckled, "we shall see. Girls, don't stay and watch, do as I told you!"

Ms. Madison and Lady Sylvia ran from the room, leaving the Green Man and Colonel Rostov locked in deadly combat.

Carnage on the High Seas: Ten

Lady Sylvia waited in the luxurious room she was locked in, wondering just what Ms. Madison and Rostov were up to. Her first mission for the Green Man, and her senior colleague had been a bad girl, joining with a dubious adventurer who was working with Islamic extremists. Even in her best party clothes, Lady Sylvia felt awful.

"Hi!" Ms. Madison strolled through the door, looking very elegant in a white satin dress and pink gloves. "Enjoying yourself, Lady Sylv?"

"No." The young aristocrat pouted. "And I don't know why I should speak to you."

"Because I'm speaking with you?" Ms. Madison smiled. "Now, come on, grumpy, it's tea-time."

Lady Sylvia followed Ms. Madison out of the room, down the corridor. She was not happy at seeing Rostov's men salute Ms. Madison. The room they entered was an elegant banqueting hall, where Rostov stood by the table, liveried servants waiting on him.

"It's lovely to see you, Lady Sylvia," he told the brunette.

"I'm just sorry you're still alive," Lady Sylvia told him.

"No elegance, I'm afraid." Ms. Madison crossed to Rostov's side. "But she didn't see all that wonderful equipment, the device that'll destroy the world, leaving only us."

"Hang on!" Lady Sylvia exclaimed, "aren't you working for some Islamic nut?"

"That's what he thinks," Rostov chuckled, "but the machine he made is under my control. When it activates, I, not he will be the master of these men and women."

Ms. Madison smiled, holding Rostov's arm, looking straight at Lady Sylvia. As the brunette watched, Ms. Madison gave her a stage wink. At that moment, the lights flickered and dimmed.

"This can't be!" Rostov ran to an intercom. "Control, "what's going on?"

Only static came through the receiver.

"Do you have a problem, Colonel?"

The new voice caused everyone to gasp. There, standing in the doorway, was the familiar figure of the Green Man.