What Has Gone Before: The team is recovering from the death of it's founder members in a sacrifice to defeat the other-dimensional being known as the Adversary. During this time of mourning the British Government have decided to continue with the Crusaders project, but they have amalgamated it with the Shadows branch and mothballed the powered armour division ShockForce. Meanwhile, the Hellfire Club continue their machinations in preparation for the upcoming election.

Scratch is the Black King - the leader of the Hellfire Club - and for the vast majority of his life he has served the Government that he is now trying to overthrow. He served in nearly all of the permutations of the UK secret services - WHO, RCX, STRIKE and at the end, Black Air. That little experience taught him a thing or two about the real motivations behind the Government and removed his last problem with taking it for his own.

The woman across from him is Ms. Locke, the former assistant of the insane assassin Arcade and a renowned international fixer. She had escaped the clutches of Arcade and now worked for herself and the Hellfire Club. She didn't like answering to someone again, but under the circumstances she could abide it because this man gave her the one thing she had never got from Arcade - respect!

' Is he prepared?' Scratch swirls the dregs of his beverage in his mug.

' Russell? Oh yeah, he's all ours to do with what we will. Steed and me make a good team. She really is a telepathic butcher..'

' I think she would prefer to be called a surgeon?'

' Whatever. When we combined the material I had gathered on his past dealings and presented them to him as we caught him 'caught with his trousers down' with that secretary..'

' Crushbone's work? Hypnotic suggestion?'

' Indeed - lets face it, you would have to be pretty desperate to do *that* to a man like Russell without it! Anyway, all of that sort of opened him up for Steed and she rattled his mind. As far as we are concerned, we have total control of the Leader of Her Majesty's Opposition,' Locke grins from ear to ear ', by the way, when we are running the country, what are we going to do with the Royal family?'

' Ah! the old monarchy debate...'

' What's that?'

Scratch grins ....' Shoot them or hang them? You decide...'

Shockforce base is silent as the last of the STRIKE troopers attached to the lying infantry division leaves the base. Commander Myers had gone a few hours earlier and no one had managed to have the guts to look her in the eye. She deserved better than compulsory early retirement. They all deserved better.

The only movement on the base is the arrival of a Ministry of Defence transporter, kited for extra security. The men at the base begin the slow and delicate process of loading the suits of powered armour onto the transport. The supervisor checks the ticket that came with the order.

DESTINATION - STRIKE ACQUISITION STATION - NORTH YORKSHIRE

Nicholas Russell stands before the packed press conference, flanked by some of his most trusted advisors. He had fought his way from the gutter to this position and he knew, deep in his heart, that this election was his for the taking. Over the last couple of years the Government had been forced to take some pretty stiff medicine over the various situations created by the Crusaders. Debacle had followed debacle and the newspapers had been full of lunatics trying to convince the public that this increased level of nefarious activity had something to do with the presence of heroes in their midst. What a load of tripe! Still, it had stirred up a subconscious resentment in the population and when the dead had decided to rise earlier in the year - well tat was the straw that broke the camel's back. In four weeks time, he would be Prime Minister and the country would be safe again. He takes a deep breath and steps up to the podium.

'Ahem. Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for coming. It is a proud moment for me to open the campaign of my party for the upcoming general election, a moment I have been waiting for all my life. It is time for my party to step into power once again and rescue our country from the damage that the current administration has wrecked upon it.' The audience of party workers applauds wildly - but then they would, as they are being paid handsomely to be there and do just that. At the back of the room, a dark haired woman stands with a confident grin on her face. She whispers one phrase - rivers of blood - and then turns and leaves. Russell continues.

' Great Britain used to be an oasis in the sea of chaos that has swamped the world - the chaos that is so-called Marvels. Nowadays we are so absorbed by the culture, and intrusive counter-culture of superheroics that we have lost sight of the truth. The truth is, that in every society known to mankind, the powerful will try to oppress the weak, unless the voices of the many command them otherwise. Superheroes, Marvels, whatever you may call them, are a timebomb waiting to explode in our very midst. We fought hard during the War to overthrow one man who would have been an 'Uberman' and we should not in peacetime concede our freedom to groups of others who claim likewise. Look to the situation in Canada? Look to the incidents in China and Kosovo? Look to virtually every city in the United States of America? The source of their problems are Marvels and they must be curbed.'

Again the audience explodes in applause, but the press pack in the front row are taken aback by this attack on the people who have saved the country. How could this man hope to get away with this?

' And the most insidious - the most dangerous - are the mutants. Ignore the propaganda that is being spread around the rest of the world at the moment that mutants are in some way acceptable, that they are to be seen as cultural icons by our children, that they are safe. They are not, and the sooner the government realises that and tries to do something about it the better - and if they won't, we certainly will! We will not stand by and watch the mutants take over this country. Never!' Russell pauses for a second and takes a drink of water and then unleashes the torrent of questions.

' I hate elections! Bloody waste of time if you ask me. you get the same bunch of wet lettuces in each time they happen and the buggers just lie the same as the last lot. Waste of time and energy...'

' Dai, I'm amazed! I thought you would have been jumping on the Russell 'Lynch a Mutant Today' bandwagon as chief herdsman?' Peter Wisdom swings his feet up onto the table and lets his chair recline. He has been sat with Dai, in Millennium Tower, for an hour watching the commentary on the elections and he is quite entertained. For a man that hates politics, Dai can't half rant on about it.

' If I was going to lynch anyone it would be you, believe me! That man's a nutter though. I'll admit that a few years ago I would have happily gone around and killed every single one of you useless tight wearing idiots, but nowadays... well, lets just say I've exorcised a few old ghosts and it's not such an issue?' *

( * see Crusaders: Shadows #10 for that story - Neil.)

' So come on then, who are you going to vote for then?' Wisdom swings his feet down and begins to pace up and down in the room.

' You nervous about something then? You can't keep still for two minutes?'

' No, no, just a little bored. A man could get stir crazy in this place. Who's it going to be?'

' Hmm, lets see shall we? I'm welsh, I was brought up in the valleys, my entire family was employed in mining, I was nearly killed by Black Air under instructions from Thatcher herself and my current job relies upon there being enough of you funny buggers for me to command.?'

' Liberal Democrat? Green? Monster Raving Loony?'

' Labour, you wassock! And you?'

' I don't vote mate. Don't adhere to democracy - it's a pack of lies and half lies.'

' You an anarchist?'

' Maybe, maybe not, who knows?' At that moment the Alpha Priority alarm goes off in the tower. Dai jerks out his set, spilling his tea down his front and swearing like a trooper. He slams a hand into the intercom panel on the table in front of him and brings the stern face of the STRIKE officer in Crusaders Control onto the screen.

' Commander Thomas - this is an Alpha Priority Emergency from Commander Harkness. He is at Trafalgar Square, covering the Queen's walkabout. They've been attacked Sir!'

Something in Wisdom's stomach drops away. He had covered that place yesterday and it was clean. All of his contacts had said that the event was safe. Jesus!

Dai hits the all-tower intercom ' Commander Thomas to all Crusaders - Trafalgar Square now!' and then he slams his hand against his forehead. Black Knight was the only one of the current bunch that could fly and his horse could only carry one person. He turns his head back to the intercom ' Scrub that! Dane and Robyn, get there ASAP! The rest of you converge on the top hangar and we'll see what the boffins have got for us.'

Another time, another dimension....

' Herr Mueller, am I correct in the assumption that the dimensional fix you have on the escaped telepath is now stable?' The small, wizened dark haired man stares at the bald headed telepath with empty, cold eyes.

' Ja mein Fuehrer! We now have the witch under 24-hour surveillance, and through her, her collaborators in that dimensions version of the Crusaders.'

' Gut. Zehr Gut. Soon we will have amassed enough force to launch our invasion, and when we do I will crush that world like I have crushed this one and the glory of the Reich will spread throughout all creation!'

' HEIL HITLER!'

It had been a rather pleasant day to start with, but now it was like a scene from your worst nightmare. The Queen had been in the middle of a walkabout, greeting disabled children who were gathered to receive award for gallantry, when all hell had broken lose.

It had started with a low howl, almost too low to register with the human ear, but then it had grown and grown until everyone in the area of London's most famous monument was crawling on the floor, clutching their heads and screaming. It was then that they had appeared. There were three of them. One was tall and had purple skin, long dark hair and a black jump suit like the others. He held his mouth open and the incapacitating noise continued. His companions were not effected and they strode across the sea of crippled people, kicked the Queen's bodyguard out of the way and hoisted the elderly woman into the air.

The one holding her had ginger hair and a huge upper body, completely out of proportion with the rest of his physique. His hands looked as if they could have snapped the Queen in half. The last one was bald and aloof, sneering at the people on the ground.

It was only when he began to point at them, and their heads began to explode like over-ripe watermelons that his sneer turned into a grin.

' We are the Cornish Liberation Alliance! We demand that the ancient kingdom of Cornwall should cede from the control of the invading English scum, and should return to the lineage of the High King Mark. We recognise the return of the sovereign state of Lyonese and the Golden People as a signal from Go himself that the Cornish people are to return to their former glory! We call for our cousins in Wales, Scotland, Northumbria and Camilaird to join us in our struggle!" The bald terrorist stops speaking and gestures to the calm looking royal figure,' This woman is a symbol of the economic and cultural oppression that has destroyed Cornwall for centuries. It stops here and now! If the Government do not begin to remove their forces from Cornwall and declare it's independence, we will kill ten people every hour, and we will start with your beloved Queen.'

Harkness crouches behind an armoured car and murmurs to Dai. ' Jesus Dai! It was awful - they've killed 78 people already, including 10 of my men and 5 kids. From what we can gather, he's some sort of telepath, the big one is just a bruiser and the other has that sonic weapon that floored us all. We need to get this finished fast! God, this is all we need, superpowered nutters!'

' You're starting to sound like Russell?'

' Don't mention that man to me! He had the audacity to ring me - here - and complain that I wasn't spending time tending to his security as part of the election. The man obviously doesn't watch the TV much!'

' Has he got death threats yet?'

'Of course, and yes, he intends to use them to further his case. Look Dai, as much as I like the discussion, we do have a Monarch y to save??'

' Sorry, yes, I tend to forget about the Queen on most days - a little cipher to my inbuilt self hatred for being a republican working for Her Majesties Government - force of habit.' Dai raises his comm-link ' Robyn and Dane take the big one, Emil and Lissa lock down that bald git, Pete takes down Sonic the Hedgehog and Betsy grabs HRH? On my mark.....go!'

The difference between this set of Crusaders and the ones that sacrificed themselves to save the country is that all of them bar the Black Knight have been trained previously in some form of covert assault. Even Lissa was expected to infiltrate enemy bunkers in her nazi home dimension. And if that meant that a time served Avenger was a weak link, it was a weak link that they could all accept!

To say that the CLF were not expecting the attack would be an understatement. It was early evening now and they had not seen anything of the Crusaders since they arrived in the rather swish new VTOL transport that the people at the Ministry had delivered to them a few weeks ago. The shadows acted as a perfect cover for them to get into perfect position.

Dane Whitman didn't know how to feel as he slowly shuffled through the sickening debris of the attack. In the dark he had slowly moved into the bodies and the surviving hostages. They were obviously not professional terrorists! He could see Sherwood positioned high on a rooftop, ready to strike when need be, and Lissa and Emil were near Dai and Harkness. He couldn't see Wisdom or Betsy but he knew they were near somewhere.

' AVALON!'

The air crackles and flashes and as he jumps to his feet he is adorned by the sword and shield given to him by the Lady of the Lake. The huge mutant turns to meet him with a hollow mouth hanging in shock. From the rooftop Sherwood unleashes a torrent of plasma arrows into the behemoth's head and back. He staggers forwards momentarily and the raises a hand to the back of his head, rubs it and grins. Oh God! He must be invulnerable! Dane prepares for a fight!

Emil and Lissa nod and go to work on the murdering ringleader of the group. Lissa reaches out with her well-trained mind and contacts the man's sensory network. Harkness had been right about him being a telepath, but his talent was in psychokenisis, not telepathy. She turns off his eyes and ears and then immobilises his balance centre. He staggers and falls only to find himself in a two-second continual repetition field generated by Emil. His fine control of time was improving with the training he was receiving and as long as he concentrated, the mind blower was out of action.

Wisdom rises from the sea of dead bodies as Black Knight had and charges his 'hot knives'. The final terrorist grins at him and begins to whistle. Multiple images of the mutant appear to his sides, each whistling. Which one is the real terrorist? Peter Wisdom shakes his head and opens his palms. He flings his plasma wide, covering a huge arc, his patience with these buffoons finally at an end.

Everything goes into slow motion. A plasma knife impacts on the mutant blowing him off his feet and back thirty feet. The others pass harmlessly through the solid sound illusions and carry on towards other targets. Psylocke appears from the depths of the evening shadows and pulls the Queen away from the time lopped killer, only to find herself in the path of Wisdom's plasma spray. She twists o pull the Queen behind her body but she is too slow.

A bolt of plasma hurtles straight for the Monarchs chest, only to be stopped by the hurled body of one of her bodyguards. He takes the bolt to the heart and is killed instantly. Psylocke and the Queen crash to the ground and Wisdom stands impassive.

What has he done....

' It is at moments like this that it is hard for a politician to retain some degree of distance from the events at hand. My thoughts go out to the families of the children and servicemen that lost their lives today in the tragic events at Trafalgar Square. It was a senseless tragedy that could so easily have been avoided, had the correct precautions been followed, had we known that dangerous mutants were abroad in the country. What is more disturbing however, is the threat from within. Had it not been for that brave policeman, the Queen would have perished at the hands of another mutant, a one alleged to be on her 'side'. Would it have been an accident? An incident of friendly fire? Or something more sinister? It is at time's like this, that I find it so hard not to say ' I told you so..''

The private function for party fundraisers and donators erupts in applause and Russell feels the votes begin to rush in...

Scratch sits back and contemplates a good day's work. It had been simplicity to recruit those idiots to his 'secret cause' - Cornish Liberation? Honestly! And to net the downfall of Peter ' I'll never kill again' Wisdom was just the icing on a very sweet cake. Russell was making more political capital that should have ever been allowed, but that was probably due to the subtle manipulation of the press at the conferences by Steed and the masterful subliminals Crushbone had built into the Party Political Broadcasts. The anti- Marvels feeling was small at the moment, still the province of radicals, but he could feel it rising. Soon Russell would be part of the zeitgeist, soon he would be speaking for the man on the street and then, only then, could the Hellfire Club be assured of the ultimate prize - control of the British government and access to their independent nuclear deterrent.

And if the Crusaders were crucified on the way, he wouldn't shed any tears.

' Yes guv, I know it sounds stupid but I'm telling you that's how it looks from down here. There are five bodies in the alleyway and they have all been drained of blood. Sucked dry. With little puncture marks in the neck as well - the full works. It looks like a fully-fledged vampire attack. No guv, I'm not kidding. There's message too, written on the wall in red - I assume it's blood too - and it says ' SO IT BEGINS - THE TIME OF BLOOD'. That's right guv.'

The policeman turns off his radio and looks at the carnage in the alley. He leans over and finally releases his stomach.

' Thanks for seeing me Doctor.' Peter Wisdom hates hospitals.

' That's OK Peter. I understand your anxiety. The Medical Commander has briefed me on what has happened recently and I can understand the need for some counselling..'

' You're having a laugh aren't you? I'm not here for counselling! Look, I...I... I think I...' ' What is it? Is there something else?'

' I'm coughing up blood. I think I might have cancer?!'

The War of Nerves continues as the election hots up and the Hellfire Club begin to put a real squeeze on the Crusaders. In the midst of this the vampire threat increases, Wisdom receives his medical results and there is that small matter of an interdimensional Nazi beachhead! Party Politics has NEVER been this interesting!

This issue covers two issues very close to forefront of peoples minds from time to time. Elections and terrorism. I find the party political system in the UK frustrating and self-defeating. After 17 years of a government that ( in my opinion) ran the country down in such a way as to ghettoise huge portions of it and create a massive unemployed, unhoused, uneducated underclass, promote racism and hatred and create a 'all for one and bugger the rest' culture we have become a nation of political cynics. We tar all governments as lying, cheating, powermongers when really they all do the same job, which is to legitimise and economic impossibility - a mixed economy with socialist values in a capitalist paradigm. One of my points in this story, and the rest of it when it comes, will be the influence I think one politician can have with the correct manipulation, if they are willing to break the mould, and the nightmare that follows.

On terrorism, I just wanted to say that I was shocked how desensitised I have become to it. After spending my entire life hearing about killings in Ireland and on the UK mainland, having my co-worker tell me of tales of her brother in the aftermath of the Omagh bombing and having my childhood friend killed on his second day as a soldier in the province, it has all become horribly normal. I don't notice whether there are children killed anymore. It isn't something that I am proud of either. I remember thinking how strange it was that so many Americans were shocked at the Oklahoma bombing, and that the spectre of terrorism had arrived at their shore. Only then did I realise that it had become a way of life for me and all the people around me. It looks as if the Good Friday Agreement is about to disintegrate and I really don't know what will happen after that?

Anyway, onwards to the letters...

Neil

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