Captain Murdoch watched the figure of Count Van Nostrum grow ever smaller as the helicopter rose higher into the dusky sky. The count shook his fists after the helicopter, but it was too late, much too late.

Murdoch turned to Princess Magda Van Nostrum. Her wavy golden hair cascaded over her pearly white shoulders. She stared back at him with her large cerulean eyes, her soft pink lips slightly parted. The crisp white sheet wrapped around her only served to emphasise the voluptuous curves of her firm young body. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And yet she belonged to another.

"Oh, sir," Magda said, breathily, "How can I ever thank you? I thought my father would keep me locked in that attic forever!"

"Don't thank me, thank Ludwig. He sent me to rescue you."

She looked amazed. "Ludwig?"

"Your fiance."

"Oh, he's such a fool!" Magda pouted and looked sulky. This only made her appear even lovelier to Murdoch. He had a hard time keeping his eyes on the course ahead and away from her as the sheet she was wrapped in slipped a little. "I broke it off with him a year ago!"

"Really?" Now things were looking up for Murdoch. "Then why did your father take away all your clothes and lock up, if not to stop you marrying Ludwig?"

"To stop me marrying Gunther, of course!"

"Gunther? You mean Ludwig's cousin Gunther? The astronaut?" Things were looking down again.

And then

Face looked up from the typed page he held. He frowned at Murdock who sat on the other side of the desk, in front of an electric typewriter.

"And then? What happens next?"

Murdock sipped the coffee Face had brought him. Face was very nice to him when Murdock was in the office working on his novel. Always bringing him coffee, checking he was warm enough, seeing if he needed his pencil sharpening. Murdock grinned. Who knew Face was such an avid reader?

"Well how do I know what happens next?" Murdock said. "I haven't typed that bit yet."

"Well, I can guess," Face said. "Captain Murdoch and Magda go off to some place cosy and she shows him her - um - gratitude. Then after that he flies off to rescue some other nubile young lovely and she gets really grateful too."

"Are you saying my book is predictable?" Murdock asked, frowning. He balled up a sketch map he'd made of the Von Nostrum castle and tossed it at the waste paper basket, missing by a long way.

"You've used the phrase 'She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And yet she belonged to another' at least five times now."

"Fine." Murdock snapped and snatched back the latest page of his epic. "Next time he's going to rescue some puppies. Or a baby bird."

"Hey, I wasn't complaining." Face put his hands up, grinning. "The more grateful, nubile young lovelies the better. Especially if he offloads any onto that sidekick of his."

Murdock smiled. Ah yes, Murdoch's sidekick, Ace. Murdock was quite fond of Ace, even though Ace wasn't nearly as charming, brilliant and devastatingly handsome as Murdoch. He hoped nothing awful would happen to Ace in the end.

Murdock frowned. Face had risen and started riffling through the manuscript pages. "What are you looking for?"

"Oh, um, I just want to reread that bit where Ace has to distract the Sheik's wives so Murdoch can rescue Juliana."

Murdock slapped Face's hand away. "Get off! You'll get 'em mixed up." He drank some more coffee. Two weeks now and if his guesstimate was right, over thirty five thousand words of his novel written. Not bad, given the chores they had to do every day to keep this place running. Not bad, considering Face was restricting him to only six cups of coffee a day. He didn't have a title yet, which was starting to bug him, but that would come.

"You know, Murdock, I love your book and everything, but isn't it starting to get a bit, well, far fetched? You're obviously working up to him saving the world. What about that old maxim? Write what you know?"

"Oh that's the stupidest advice ever!" Murdock pushed away from the desk on the wheeled chair and grabbed himself more paper from the stationary closet. "If people only wrote what they knew we'd have no Lord of the Rings, or A Midsummer Night's Dream, or Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy." He shoved a pencil behind his ear. "I am a tiny bit worried about one thing though. Do you think some people might be able to guess that Captain Murdoch is based on me?"

Face goggled at him. Murdock kept his face totally straight. Then he let a tiny smile sneak out. Face rolled his eyes.

"What? Captain MH Murdoch with an h?" Face laid on maximum sarcasm. "Nah, why would anyone think he's based on you? I mean the number of women he gets for a start..."

Murdock sighed, in mock sadness "So he's a little too thinly disguised?"

"Murdock, he's as thinly disguised as Hannibal meeting a client with bad eyesight."

"Okay, I'm stealing that!" Murdock said, whipping the pencil from behind his ear and scribbling on his note pad. Now he just needed to add a character that was bad at disguises. Perhaps an old mentor of Murdoch's. A flight instructor? No, no, he'd run into five of those already. Someone who'd taught him his martial arts skills? A mystical guru, who used to ambush him, disguised as something highly unlikely, to test his reactions. And his name would be - Murdock frowned, deeply, chewed his pencil - something other than 'Cato'.

Murdock glanced up as Face closed the door quietly behind himself. He smiled and rolled the latest page back into the electric typewriter.

And then

And then what? That was the question wasn't it? It always was. Murdock tapped the pencil against the side of the desk. Maybe Face was right. Instead of coming up with crazy over the top ideas Murdock should be writing about what he knew. Well what did he know about? Really know? War and death and insanity. Who wanted to read about that? People had enough of their own pain. Why should he inflict his on them?

Dammit. He shouldn't have let his thoughts go in that direction. Should have reined them in before they opened up that door. Now he wasn't in the mood for Murdoch and Ace and Magda and Gunther any more. He put the pencil back over his ear and left the office, closing the door behind him. A second later he opened the door again, reached in and turned off the light.

On the desk, in the typewriter, Captain Murdoch waited.

~~~~

Hannibal and Decker looked up from their chess game when Murdock wandered into the rec room, hands in pockets, a disconsolate look on his face.

"Book not going well, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

Decker went back to frowning at the chess board. BA, who was playing cards with Face, snorted.

"Book! How can the man write a book? Sucker can't even write a check."

"Oh, it's going okay," Murdock lied. "Just taking a break."

He wandered over, studied the chess board and grimaced. Decker would have Hannibal in checkmate in six moves. He went on over to the table where Face and BA were playing Gin. Face was studying his cards very carefully. Murdock guessed Face was trying to psych BA out by making him impatient.

"Quit loitering, fool," BA snapped. Murdock smiled. Mission accomplished, Face. Murdock found another pack of cards, sat at the same table and dealt a hand of solitaire.

"You don't put a card down soon, Face, I'll put you down!"

Murdock didn't look up. And then... And then... And then MH Murdoch went to Monte Carlo and broke the bank playing blackjack? Face put a card down and smiled at BA. And then? And then? Magda fell in love with Murdoch and they eloped? But Gunther sent a squad of ninjas after them?

"Checkmate." Hannibal's smugness warmed the whole room, except for the area around Decker. Murdock looked up surprised then grinned. Trust Hannibal.

"What? Where did you...? Damn!" Decker stamped over to a sideboard and tapped a cigarette out of a pack. He lit up, glowering at Hannibal. While searching the place they had found a nearly full carton of cigarettes, nine packs still in it, in one of the bedrooms. And since none of them were using that particular bedroom the carton was declared common property. This effectively meant common to Hannibal and Decker.

Hannibal would smoke cigarettes if cigars weren't available. He'd put away the one cigar he had left, saving it, he said. So the colonels had split the cigarettes between them, ninety each. Murdock knew Decker was going though them faster than Hannibal. Hannibal had a couple every day. Decker had at least six. He was saving the butts and had started re-checking every corner of the station, looking for cigarette papers. Even if he found some he would still run out of tobacco well before the end of December and well before Hannibal did. And then - Murdock smiled - things would get sticky.

And then... Murdoch is going to elope with Magda, but finds out she smokes and that's such a turn off? Nah. With that body, you'd buy her a gallon of mouthwash and go for it anyway.

Murdock got bored with solitaire. He flipped all the cards onto their backs and then gathered all the face cards together.

And then... Murdoch seeks the help of his old friend from flight school - Murdock picked up the jack of clubs - Prince Alexei, a man believed by many experts to have the best claim to the imperial throne of Russia. Alexei helps Murdoch reunite Magda and Gunther, and Murdoch is heartbroken until he meets - Murdock picked up the queen of hearts and kissed it. Face and BA shot him odd looks. Murdock ignored them. Alexei's sister, Tatyana. But she's pledged to another man - he picked up the king of diamonds and made the card hop across the table to the two in his other hand - a man richer than, um, richer than most small countries.

Murdock sighed and tossed the cards down. No, that stuff was getting old. He needed a new direction, something radical. He looked up to see Decker was watching him now, frowning. Murdock smiled and waggled his eyebrows which only deepened Decker's frown.

Okay this was no use. He needed a distraction.

"Anyone mind if I put some music on?"

"Not too loud," BA said. No-one else objected. Murdock went to the record player, which had a rack of albums beside it. Murdock lay on the floor beside the rack and started to pull each album out by its corner.

Pink Floyd? Too heavy. Queen? Nice, but not in that mood. Supertramp? Nah, too painful a reminder that they weren't having Breakfast in America for a long time yet. Same went for The Eagles. The words "Hotel" and "California" would probably make Face start crying.

Oh, he thought as he checked the next one, nice. He pulled the album all the way out. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. One of Murdock's favourites of all time.

Murdock stopped suddenly. He sat up, and then he gave a whoop and kissed the album cover.

"Thank you, David, thank you so much!" He put the LP back in the rack and jumped up. Everyone was staring at him amazed, but he didn't care. He ran out of the room.

And then...

And then a light appeared directly over the helicopter, a light as bright as day, brighter, blazing into the chopper. Magda screamed and covered her eyes. Murdoch fought to control the craft, but it was no longer responding. Yet they were not falling from the sky, they were going up, drawn inexorably towards the eye watering glare that was the source of the light. He gave up on the controls and flung an arm across his eyes. A terrible noise assailed his ears, as if the world itself were ripping apart and then all was black.

When he awoke he was lying on the floor of a cell. The walls floor and ceiling were metal. No windows, a door... that opened as he looked at it. He jumped to his feet, ready to fight, but rather than the guards he had been expecting a woman came into the room. She was the most

Murdock stopped, frowned and over typed the words "she was the most" with nonsense until they were obscured. Then he typed on.

He was stunned by her beauty and yet also disturbed, her skin was as pale as death, her hair was an unnatural shade of red. Her eyes were large and dark, completely dark, black as a shark's. Murdoch's skin crawled. Her incredible body was clad only in a sheer gown and yet he felt nothing but revulsion at the sight of her. He knew at once she was not human. She was

"Murdock?" Hannibal poked his head around the door. "Mind if I interrupt you a minute?"

Murdock did mind. He was just getting in the zone. But he pasted on a smile.

"Sure, Hannibal. What's on your mind?"

"Well, your mind, actually." Hannibal said, glancing back as he said it. He closed the door and came over to sit on the edge of Murdock's desk. "Did you notice how Decker was looking at you just now?"

"Like he thought I was nuts, yeah."

"Well, I was thinking it might be a good idea to make sure that's what he keeps thinking. In fact give him plenty more reason to think that."

"Ah, you're thinking when we get out of here he'll feel so sorry for me he'll let me go quietly back to the VA without another word?"

Hannibal shrugged. "Sorry for you, or just think you're not worth prosecuting, either works. We can't just keep hoping he never mentions you over the radio. The Mounties are going to figure out you're here eventually; even if it's the day they arrive to pick us up. So we need to pursue every option."

"Don't you worry, Colonel." Murdock grinned. "I'll convince him that I'm crazier than a bag full of ferrets on acid." He sat forward. "In fact I'll start while we're playing cards tonight."

"Don't overdo it to start," Hannibal said. "Keep it subtle at first."

"Yeah. Start small and build?"

"Exactly."

"Okay," Murdock said, nodding thoughtfully. Then he smiled. "I'm being crazy now. Can you tell?"

"Um, no." Hannibal looked at him, puzzled.

"Well I'm sitting here taking acting advice from the king of the slime monsters."