Never mind the whole camp of the Egyptian G.C.A., that angry Doncaster accent yell spread and echoed throughout the entire Egyptian Western Desert. It sure scared the G.C.A. staff members, anthropomorphic animals of all shapes and sizes. It made the paperwork volunteers, the solar panelled gun inspectors and four camels that were in charge of the water supplies drop their stuff. The black trousers of a tall giraffe volunteer even dropped along with his mountain of paperwork he was carrying.
All the staff stared at the massive light brown tent. The tent was three times the size of the other thirty light brown tents at the camp. Some even called it the castle of the camp.
A flamingo quickly flew out of the tent and turned back around. “But, Lieutenant Skipton, I only said –”
A six foot, mid-forties male human with shaved black hair stormed out of the tent. He was wearing a UK lieutenant’s uniform. Everyone at G.C.A. knew when Robert Skipton had an angry looking face it was like the world was coming to an end. It had been said that his bite was just as bad as his bark.
“You only said, ‘I’m sorry to tell you this, sir, but all of Blackpool Squad I are dead’,” Skipton said. “That’s another dead squad I’m going to have to scratch off the list with all the other first eight dead squads from Blackpool.” He sighed. For the last twenty hours, he had been hearing nothing but bad news. More sphinxes and less G.C.A. squads. His latest report informed him that the top nine Blackpool squads and only six from the Cairo and Alexandria squads each were gone.
Since he founded Global Creature Alliance along with Sergeant Lukeson and Captain Tugson and being the Vice President of the company, Skipton had supervised many dangerous missions to fight many enemies and rescue thousands of endangered animals, but this sphinx mission was like being the first person stepping on a completely new planet compared to all the others ones before. Maybe even discovering a whole new universe.
“I’m only a messenger, sir,” the flamingo said, who had an Egyptian accent.
“And I’m only a hairdresser, Hemsworth,” said Skipton.
“With all due respect, sir,” said Hemsworth, “I don’t understand sarcasm or find it very helpful.”
“Well, I will lecture you the benefits of being sarcastic,” Skipton said. “It helps you be smarter, helps your brain be healthier and alert for everything.”
Sand was flown on his head. He screamed like a little girl and hid behind Hemsworth. He drew out his solar panelled pistol and aimed at... Lukeson and Squad J?
“A-ten-shun!” the sergeant yelled.
Squad J quickly got up on their feet and stood straight in line.
“Salute!”
The squad saluted and so did Lukeson as he turned around to face the un-impressed Skipton.
“Want to kill Blackpool’s last squad, sir?” Hemsworth said.
“No one likes a sarcastic person, Hemsworth,” Skipton snapped. As he went into front of the cheeky flamingo, he withdrew his pistol. “Fly off now and make sure your last six remaining squads are ready for action tomorrow.”
Hemsworth stuck his tongue at Skipton and was well away before he could get caught.
The lieutenant also noticed the other staff members were still looking at him. “Well, what are you morons waiting for, Halley’s Comet? Get back to work!”
The animals fearfully went back to work. They knew he was like a bull; if anyone messed with him, they would get the horns.
Skipton turned back to Lukeson and Squad J. “At ease, soldiers.”
Lukeson approached him, holding their captive by the chains.
Skipton smiled. “Well, I’m glad one of our squad made it out alive. But what the hell do you mean by scaring me to death like that?”
“Private Meng got her calculations wrong – just a tad – before she teleported us back to this camp, sir,” replied Lukeson. “Besides, I see that none of our vehicles have returned and –”
“All right, shut up, Lukeson,” interrupted Skipton. He turned to Squad J. “Squad, dismissed.”
Lukeson ordered Squad J to hand in their weapons to the gun inspectors before they went to get some shut eye. Rachael handed their handcuffed captive over to him before she rejoined her squad mates making their way to their tents.
“They took tired, Sergeant,” Skipton said.
“Well, they have been working very hard, sir,” said Lukeson.
“And what have I been doing? Sitting on my shithole for twenty hours and enjoyed hearing about the squads from Blackpool and Egypt we’ve lost today?”
Lukeson did not reply. Not because he was lost for words or he was letting Skipton’s rant get to him but because he knew that the lieutenant was a difficult man, always up his arse and thinking everything in the universe revolved around his nuts. All the conversations with him were always very stressful and made him feel like he could never win. Also the sergeant was very tired tonight so he was in no mood to push this heated discussion forward.
“Lukeson, your report, come on,” Skipton ordered.
“Well, the mission was neither a success nor a failure, sir,” replied Lukeson.
“‘Neither a success nor a failure’? What do you mean by that?”
“Well, we found thousands of cobra sphinxes, but we couldn’t bring one in because they were just beyond our control.”
“To me, that is failure. One hundred percent failure!”
“But we are confident that we have captured the ring leader here, sir.” Lukeson pointed to his captive.
“G.C.A.’s purpose is to track down every animal we can and protect them from harm, not to solve difficult mysteries or fix the world’s irreparable problems.” Skipton didn’t even bother to look at the man.
Lukeson always felt that the lieutenant made G.C.A. sound they were more like poachers rather than creatures of peace. He couldn’t take much more of it, but he knew insisting was the only thing he could do. “If we stick our noses into these mysteries instead of burying our heads in the sand, sir, we might actually do every human, every animal and everything on this planet more good than harm.”
Skipton sighed and went to inspect the man. “And what makes you think this man here is the reason behind the attacks in Egypt today, Sergeant?”
“Permit me to demonstrate, sir.”
Skipton and Lukeson turned to see the man’s right arm stuck inside the crocodile’s teeth. Her blood-stained teeth moved away from him and spat the bleeding loose arm out.
“Rhodes!” yelled Lukeson. “What the hell have you done?”
“Well, look at our friend, sir.”
Lukeson and Skipton saw where Rachael was pointing and the man’s right shoulder became a waterfall of blood. Then they noticed that he was still standing and motionless.
“Rhodes, I hope you didn’t kill our only witness,” Lukeson warned.
“No, sir,” said Paula’s voice. “I don’t think she has.”
Then Lukeson turned around to see Squad J standing next to him. “I thought I told you all to hit the hay.”
Kathy yawned. “Well, sir, we’re finding it very hard to go to sleep very quickly even after all we’ve been through today.”
“Check it out!”After wiping the blood from her mouth, Rachael pointed to the man’s armless arm again. It stopped dripping blood. Something was growing below the man’s right shoulder. It was a brand new Humerus bone.
None of the G.C.A. soldiers and staff could believe what they were seeing.
When the Humerus bone stopped growing, the Radius and Ulna bones grew. When they stopped, the man’s new right arm was decorated in skin.
“Look!” Pedro cried. “Worms are coming out of his new arm!”
“They’re his new fingers, you idiot!” snapped Larissa.
And she was right. The man was growing four new fingers and a new thumb with fingernails and a thumbnail. Soon he had a completely new hand.
“In my entire career at G.C.A.,” said Skipton, “this is the weirdest thing I have ever seen.”
�
��Even weirder than when we got attacked by those giant immortal jellyfish in the Red Sea a couple of years ago, sir?” asked Lukeson.
Skipton pondered. “More or less.”
You can’t make your mind up. Lukeson was tired as much as everyone but he didn’t think he could relax, knowing no one knew about their captive as much as they should. They didn’t even know his name. “I think it’s worth questioning our new friend, sir.”
“Look, I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to, Lukeson,” said Skipton.
“If we don’t look into it, sir, how many more humans will be killed? And how many more endangered animals must we send before they are all killed? Especially when we only have one squad from our G.C.A. town left.”
Despite being a hard, emotionless and impatient leader, Skipton was also one of those people who believed in prevention was better than cure. Another thing he always secretly admired about Lukeson was that he always helped him see the big picture, not just the only one corner he usually seemed to get stuck on.
“Okay, we’ll question him in my tent,” said Skipton. Then he turned to a passing antelope and a tiger and ordered them to put the man into his tent and prep him for interrogation.
“Meng,” Lukeson called. “Since you’re not properly asleep yet, I need you to go in with them.”
Mengy let out a tried trumpet cry.
“We are sending two good non-magical animals in that tent with a man with powers no one knows how powerful they are,” her commanding officer explained. “As you’re the only creature in G.C.A. with magic, we need you in there in case he can escape by magic or who knows what else. Now, quit moaning and get in there!”
Mengy saluted with her trunk and literally speeded into the tent.
Skipton was amazed how a non-magical creature like Lukeson could tell a magical demon what to do with her magic powers and he didn’t even had to speak whatever her language was to her, let alone had powers to make her do. “Is there a secret you’re hiding from us?”
“No, nothing, sir,” Lukeson said. He wondered if she had a mental condition though no G.C.A. doctor, human or animal, including Paula, could detect anything about her when she first joined them. “Maybe she just has some magic brain cells that help her understand English or I might have some persuading skills I do not realise.”
“Like me,” Skipton said.
His sergeant just scoffed.
“What was that noise, Sergeant?”
“Nothing, sir.” Lukeson pretended he had a dry throat and used getting some water for it as an excuse to get away from Skipton.
* * *
Squad J’s captive was soon under Skipton’s tent, secured in gold manacles on a wooden chair. Mengy was sitting on Skipton’s chair behind his wooden desk, filled with tons of paperwork and pens. They were the only exciting things to look at as there was so little else to look at inside a massive tent. She had been checking on the man since he got strapped in. Due to his lack of talking and his unexplained cooperation, she got more suspicious about him by the millisecond.
Stu Pot entered the tent. “Thanks, Mengy. Has anything happened since he got strapped in?” He got a shook from the elephant. “Okay, I’ll take over now.”
Mengy patted him on the back with her trunk and walked out.
“Good day, laddie,” Stu Pot said to the man. “Potter’s the name. Stuart Potter. Or Stu Pot, for short. As the good cop, I shall need to know your name.”
“Akins,” replied the man.
Despite the Egyptian name, Stu Pot couldn’t work out which country he came from as he didn’t have an Egyptian accent and his robe didn’t match any Egyptian clothing. He began to wonder if Akins was even really his true name. Then he remembered he and and his squad had been in situations like this so he knew how this game was played. It wasn’t his favourite, but he was glad he was able to play it whenever he had to. “So, Mr. Akins, would you care to tell me if you’re the one who has been creating cobra sphinxes? And if yes, how are you unleashing them onto humanity? And, more importantly, why?”
Akins leaned towards Stu Pot as far as the manacles allowed him. “Humanity is Earth’s worse disease.”
His tone of voice and his emotionless face gave the zebra the chills. “And who are you working for?”
“Someone who will take better care of this planet than all the human leaders in the United Nations building will.”
“Is it a he or a she?”
“How will that help you?” asked Akins.
“Well, if you won’t talk,” said Stu Pot, “I’ll have to send in the bad cop.”
After waiting half a minute of watching Akins saying and doing nothing, the zebra decided it was time to send in Rachael. Her squad mates called her ‘Bad Cop’ when it came to interrogations as she was the best at being the aggressive interrogator when they needed one. She batted a heavy metal crowbar in her hand as she approached the prisoner.
Akins scoffed. “You can hit me all you like with that, it’ll never make me tell you anything.” Then his chin was dragged closer to Rachael by the curved end of the crowbar.
“Listen, Grape Head!” she yelled. “At some point tonight, you will tell us everything we want to know and pay for everything that has happened today!”
“Do your worst,” said a smirking Akins.
“My worst, eh?” Rachael chuckled meanly. “All right, you alone have sentenced this on yourself.” She ran out of the tent and spotted Larissa waiting outside. “Larissa, get in there and do your worst.”
The young penguin went in the tent. “You’re in for a treat tonight, Mr. Akins.” She got out an iPod made out of wood. “Sit back and relax… if you can. Take it away, Brittany Glass!”
She put soundproof earmuffs on her head and fiddled with her iPod. The atmosphere was taken over by the loud volume of a country music song by a female snow leopard called Brittany Glass. The loud volume was coming from the giant wooden speakers from behind Akins’s chair and it was powerful enough to blow the big tent cover away and nearly deafen everyone at the camp, but it still wasn’t enough to make Akins twitch let alone speak.
Then Larissa noticed the country music changed into rap music. Even with her earmuffs on, she could tell because that music was so loud. She saw that her iPod was out of her wing and now in her brother’s. He was wearing a blue cap, sunglasses, a green jacket and blue jeans.
“That’s mine!” Larissa snapped. “Where’s yours?”
“I left it at home, sis,” Pedro said, trying to sound like a rapper.
Larissa wondered why she downloaded her brother’s favourite rap songs on her iPod. She just stood where she was and watched his lame dancing.
As he danced, Pedro moved more towards Akins. Then he jumped onto the man’s knees and danced on them, digging his feet claws into the man’s knees. He turned to see if the man was ready to surrender to him, but he still did not move. Not even his face twitched, despite the pain in his knees. Then Pedro turned around and leaned over.
“No!” Larissa yelled at the top of her lungs. “Not that! Don’t –”
It happened.
“Pedro!” Larissa started coughing. “How is you making the whole camp site a stink bomb going to help us?”
“Well, take a look at Baldy, sis!” Pedro snapped back, pointing to the prisoner.
An uncomfortable Akins was coughing and struggling to break free from his manacles.
“Those thirty Brussels sprouts I had today must have really paid off.”
“Oh, very good, bro,” said Larissa, covering up her beak. “But we’re trying to get him to tell us who he’s working for, not just make him move!”
“And now we know everything,” said Kathy, as she approached the little penguins. She had wine corks up her nostrils.
“Really?” asked Larissa. “How?”
“First of all, let’s get out of here, shall we?” Kathy picked the penguins up and left Akins to continue coughing.
* * *
Pedro
and Larissa were happy as they breathed in the warm, clean, sandy air of the Western Desert.
Kathy put them down and took the corks from her nostrils out. “Thanks to Pedro’s…” She looked at a hopeful Pedro as she tried to figure out the words for his actions. “Efforts,” she finally finished. “It distracted Akins enough for Mengy to read her mind. That must be why he wasn’t speaking or resisting arrest because he was trying to bury his thoughts as deep as he could. Mengy has passed the information over to your aunt Paula and she has found the location of his secret temple.”
“Anything to help the mission to be a success, babe,” Pedro said. “Just shows you how quick thinking I am, doesn’t it?”
Kathy noticed that he was trying to be flirty, but she just chuckled. “Anyway, Skipton’s ordered an investigation at seven in the morning.”
“We’re coming with you as well?” Pedro asked.
“We need all the help we can get. So get back to your tents and get enough sleep. Good night, kids.”
Pedro sighed, watching Kathy walk away.
“You know, the flirtier you try to be, the less she will want to be around you,” Larissa told her brother.
“I think she’s just playing hard to get,” said Pedro. “Besides, I’m glad she’s gone.”
“Why?” Then she got a mean look from her brother. She knew that he had to fart again. “Oh, no! Not again! You need to cut down on the Brussels sprouts!”
“At least thirty handfuls of Brussels sprouts a day are healthier than five bags of those vegan chilli crisps buttons you have every day!” her brother shouted at her before he walked off.
“They’re low fat!” Larissa walked away in the other direction.
No one, not even their aunt, knew why those siblings who came out of the same egg never got along and had to always fight and insult each other. Was it because they were just too different from each other? Was it because they were jealous of each other? Had something happen that made them grow apart like their parents’ death before they moved from the South Pole to Blackpool?
One could guess but no one had ever truly known. Paula lost track of how many times she tried to help them, but both of them still refused to make an effort. Lukeson once tried to order them to go the psychologist owls, but the only result they got was more fighting from each other.
The Cult of Kishpu Page 5
