Dr. Snip Ch. 02

Or he could attempt something that normally took two QT Devices to perform. He asked the World Brain via his implant, if what he wanted to do was possible. Merlin surprisingly said that it was, it only needed the combined weight of Steve and Charles, to adjust the temporal field emitted by the QT.

Does Angel know about this? Steve asked Merlin. Merlin replied that Steve was the only person he had told about it. As far as it knew Angel still believed that you needed two QT's, to transport two people. Why haven't you told anyone? IT IS HARD ENOUGH TO TRACK THE TWELVE QTS WE HAVE WITHOUT INVOLVING NON-PAYING PASSENGERS.

Understood, however in this one instance could you give me the Temporal and Spatial co-ordinates for the various locations we may need to visit? DONE. The old man watched as Steve sub-vocalised to himself, then heard him ask 'Do you fancy a trip anywhen in particular?'

Suddenly a great fear, settled on the most powerful man in the spiritual world. He had the chance to meet his Boss in person, did he dare; was he worthy? The answer to the first was yes, the second a definite no. However he couldn't live with himself for the short time he had left on this troubled world, if he proved too afraid to answer for his actions to his superior.

He stood up carefully and squared his shoulders as best he could,

'Should I tell the Sister that I'm going for this trip?'

'No need' Steve replied, 'we will be back in no time at all.' Steve took Charles's hand firmly in his own, and activated the QT, the chapel was cool, quiet and completely empty.

The heat was just the same, as it had been the last time he was in the Middle East hot, dry and hot. They appeared on a hillside just outside a small town, Charles was slumped on the ground out cold. Steve swore to himself in exasperation, he had forgotten the effect that time travel had on him the first few times he had done it.

He shaded the old man, and dribbled a few drops of water onto his lips. After a few minutes, Charles revived and tried to sit up. Steve had to steady his companion as the oven heat washed over them. The sun blazed down on their heads, with a ferocity totally ignored by the native population. Charles dressed in his white priestly robes, blended in reasonably well with the dress of the natives. Steve in his best dinner suit, stood out like a sore thumb.

The first order of business was to purchase a pair of travelling robes, fortunately Steve was an old hand at time travelling, and always carried a few small gold pieces on his person at all times. Gold was the time traveller's friend, as it was always welcome regardless of the era. A small shop in the nearby town, supplied them both with suitable clothing and accessories. They walked back out into the heat, without attracting undue attention.

Charles had knowledge of ancient Hebrew, and Steve had the translating assistance of his implant. They had not only brokered the purchase of their clothing and supplies, but had also enquired as to the whereabouts of any travelling preachers, or prophets in the area.

The shopkeeper was quite a friendly chap, and had only recently sold some items to an itinerant preacher earlier in the day. The preacher was going to hold a meeting later in the evening, to spread his own version of Gods word to those who were interested.

The shopkeeper didn't know the man's name, as he hadn't asked, not being that interested in religion. Steve trusted Merlin to set him as close as possible, to the most probable location of the man they sought to meet.

Consequently they slowly made their way to the meeting place, their pace slow to allow for Charles. When he was Twenty years old, Karol Wojtyla had worked as a stonecutter at a quarry near Zakrzowek, which was close to the city of Krakow. The work was hard, and his body was strong enough to perform this most arduous of tasks easily.

Sixty-two years later, he was finding it very hard to walk along the dusty track towards the lakeside. Had Steve been sure of the co-ordinates of the place, he could have jumped there.

However he was forced to walk slowly beside Charles, taking lots of rests and sips of water as they went. They had needed every minute to get to the meeting place on time. Steve was very worried about Charles's state of health, and had twice offered to jump them back to the Vatican.

Although his body had become a shadow of what it once was, Charles's mind was if anything stronger. He was more determined than he had ever been, and he refused to give up. They had arrived within sight of the lakeside, when Charles had to rest before he collapsed in the road.

Off to the side of the path was an old log, on which sat a large muscular man chewing on a piece of bread. Steve asked if they could share his log, until his old friend was strong enough to carry on to the meeting place.

Despite his size the man had a gentle demeanour, and indicated that they could join him on his log. He offered Charles a piece of bread, but all he required was rest, and was soon dozing quietly with his head resting on the log. Steve asked the man if he was going to listen to the preacher, as they were.

The man regarded Steve with exceptionally blue eyes; that were incongruous in such a dark bearded face.

'You appear very pale, compared to everyone else I have seen today, where are you from?' He asked politely.

'I am from a country called Britain, and my friend is originally from Poland,' Steve replied truthfully.

'Strange names, in all my reading I have never come across them. What do you hope to hear from this preacher?' The man asked pleasantly, passing Steve a water bottle.

'If he is the man we hope he is, then my friend needs to ask his advice on a religious matter.'

'Oh yes? I have a great interest in religion; I have asked almost every question there is about it, from every priest and teacher I meet.

What question could your friend have, that is so important to him that he risks death to ask it.'

'That is for him to say, I am just his Donkey so to speak. For me this is more of a investigation into history, he is the important one of us.'

'Why is that?'

'Believe it or not, this old man is the religious leader of many countries that are far away from here. He needs to speak with this preacher, if he is indeed the one we seek. I am simply the man who arranged his journey here.' Admitted Steve.

'The big man reached out his hand to Steve,' I am from Nazareth, and I am pleased to meet you. Forgive my questions, there are many Roman spies about, and I am no friend of the Roman.'

Before Steve could introduce himself; Charles woke up and asked for a drink of water. The big man started to talk to him about his religion, and soon they were deep into theological matters that were above Steve's head. Steve allowed their voices to lull him into a doze, and they allowed him to sleep until it was time for the meeting.

They woke him in the cool of the evening, and Charles had recovered enough to walk unaided to the small hill by the side of the lake. Steve and Charles sat on a convenient rock, and invited their new friend to stay with them. He thanked them for their offer of companionship, but said that he had to get a lot closer to the top of the hill. Shaking their hands in farewell, he disappeared into the gathered crowd ringing the hill.

It was a very large crowd, and Steve had been lucky to pick a spot close enough to the top of the hill, to see and hear the preacher clearly when he arrived. The crowd started to murmur, as a group of men made their way individually to the top of the hill. Steve could count thirteen of them, and when they reached the top of the hill twelve of them sat down in a circle around the remaining man.

This was obviously the Preacher that they all were waiting for, and everyone settled themselves comfortably on the ground to hear his message. It was now full evening, and the only light was from the few flickering torches around the top of the hill, and the moon that shone down serenely. Steve thought that he recognised the preacher, but had to wait until he started to speak to be sure.

It was their new friend, the man from Nazareth, and his voice were compelling as he spoke of matters dear to the listeners. Steve's implant was fine for small conversations, but he couldn't keep up with the steady flow of words from the big bearded man on the hilltop. Charles however had studied ancient Hebrew as a student, to better understand the religious writings of the time.

He was following the man's words closely, and Steve could see that he was deeply moved, as he listened intently to every word. Although the majority of the crowd were silent in rapt attention, there was a small group who were paying little attention to the proceedings. These were the children of the people that had come to hear the Preacher; they had soon become bored and were playing about in the crowd.

Their childish laughter sometimes drowned out the mans words, and a few of the men surrounding him, made as if to send them away to the edges of the crowd. The Preacher would have none of this, and asked the children to come close to him, they gathered around him and he handed out small fruits to them. While they were eating these, he continued his message, reminding them all that our children were Gods gift to us, and were our most precious possessions.

Their boundless energy was sometimes trying to adults, who had forgotten that they once were just as energetic and boisterous. But they must be protected if the human race were to survive. He finished the meeting, by teaching the gathered crowd a prayer that they could say when they felt alone and vulnerable.

Steve was concerned to hear Charles gasping as if unable to breath. He decided that he had pushed his luck with the old mans health, as far as he intended to. Holding his hand firmly, he jumped them both back to the Chapel in the Vatican. Settling the old man in the most comfortable chair, Steve went to the door and called in the Sister waiting outside.

She bustled in, and seeing the state of her master, began administering various medicines that she had on her person, in anticipation of such events. Steve sat quietly to one side as she worked, and was relived when he saw the Pope wave her away and ask her to fetch them a hot drink. As she went out she asked Steve not to tire her master, as he was overdue his rest.

As the door closed behind her, Charles motioned Steve to come closer. Steve was shocked to see that the old man had been crying, his eyes were red and sore.

'I'm sorry Charles but I couldn't take the chance of you dying back there, perhaps it wasn't meant for you to meet him.' He apologised.

The Pope looked at Steve in surprise, 'Didn't you hear Him? It was the Nazarene himself, I spoke to Him as I would to you. Did you not realise who He was?'

'He just said he was from Nazareth, he didn't tell me his name.'

'No, your translating machine took Him literally,' explained the Pope.

'He wasn't saying that He was from Nazareth; He was telling you that He was the Nazarene. It was Him, and I spoke with Him. I also heard his words regarding the children, and I am determined to stamp out this evil in the midst of my Church.

Nothing will stand in my way, I have His orders and I will carry them out as God is my Witness.'

'Thank you sir, that was all I wanted to hear from you, and now I will leave you to rest. Dr. Snip will direct his attention to the Child pornography industry, and hopefully you and I will be on the same side,' said Steve as he shook Charles hand gently in farewell. Long after he had vanished, the Pope looked at the place where Steve had been and thought deep thoughts.

Steve appeared back in his kitchen, and put the kettle on. He sat down at his breakfast table, and considered the recent events. He wasn't convinced that the man he met and spoke to, was Jesus. However, the Pope had been sure of it, and he bowed to his judgement.

Steve wasn't at all religious, he had seen the results of religious fervour in Northern Ireland and Jerusalem and he despised it. If that had been Jesus, he just hoped that he never knew how many people had been killed in his name.

With the problem of Paedophile Priests apparently sorted, he could concentrate on a project that had infuriated him, since he had first heard of it years ago. This was the so-called kiddie porn industry; to the majority of people this was the lesser end of the Paedophiles world.

They pictured these sad perverts, sitting in darkened rooms watching pornographic videos, and not interacting or physically endangering local children. If only that were true, if the children filmed were cartoon drawings, then perhaps there would be a case for leaving this sad industry alone. The reality was that real live children; were being filmed as they were being subjected to sexual abuse. Their distress and pain, recorded for the titillation of perverts.

Strangely enough it wasn't too hard for a man with a QT, to track down these film producers. Apart from his invaluable police files on the industry, he only had to jump into hardcore porn shops around Europe. He waited until they were closed, and checked the receipts and shipping notes, to find out where the material was bought.

It took a while to follow the trail of money to the actual film producers, but he persevered and succeeded. He realised that from the moment he started his direct attack on the Industry, the Producers would go deeper underground. He made sure of his intelligence on six of the most prolific porn producers, and planned to hit them all before they could react and hide. There was one in London, three in Holland and two in Germany, and he intended to teach these evil people a lesson they and their associates wouldn't forget.

To this end he went to his trophy wall, and lifted down his most prized possession. It felt good in his hand, as he hefted it and took a few practice swings. It was time that Excalibur, this beautiful example of the sword makers art, fought against evil again. Angel had presented it to him on his last birthday, and he planned to use it on his crusade against the perverted industry that profited from children's pain.

His plan was basically simple; he would appear inside the building where the filming took place. If he used his trademark secaturs to remove the balls from these people, he wasn't sure if it would stop them continuing to make films of others raping kids. However he reasoned that if he cut of their hands, then they would find it very difficult to continue in this evil business.

The London target seemed to set the routine for them all, he appeared in the apparently disused warehouse in Soho. He stood quietly until he located the sound of voices, coming from a room upstairs. Walking up the steel steps, he was careful to make no noise that might alert the targets.

He needn't have worried too much, as all the people involved in making their latest film, were all busy and concentrating on their various tasks. There were just four of them, not counting the naked little boy who was tied facedown onto the large steel bed. This was bolted to the floor, and surrounded by film lights.

He looked to Steve to be about six years old, and his tearstained face was testament to his fear and distress. There was a Cameraman, a soundman, a lighting and still cameraman and of course the male porn star who was about to rape the child. Before he walked into the room, Steve had donned the executioner's hood he had worn when he gave the reporters his open letter to Paedophiles, a few weeks ago.

He needed a disguise, not to protect Dr. Snip, because he intended to ensure that he got the credit for these attacks. However he didn't want Steven Steele, to be associated with the Vigilante if he could help it. The police were already after Dr. Snip for GBH and other crimes. He didn't want to have to look over his shoulder every minute, he had too much to do. The Cameraman seemed to be the one in charge, as he was issuing instructions to the naked porn star, as to how he should go about raping the child.

He was stressing that it was important that he got the correct camera angles, and that there were no shadows to obscure the cameras view of the action. It wasn't until he got no answer from the man, that he looked up to see him slumped on the floor of the room. Steve had hit him on the head with the steel hilt of Excalibur, and he was unconscious.

The lighting man had seen this and threw himself at Steve; he met with a heavy boot coming the other way. He ended up sitting on the floor, coughing up blood from his broken ribs. The soundman was a small weasel of a man, and tried to escape by running to the door. Unfortunately for him Steve was in the way, and simply backhanded him into the wall so hard that he bounced off it, and fell across the Cameraman.

This individual seemed unable to believe what was happening, and spluttered something about being protected from the police. His protestations were silenced, when Steve's boot slammed into his groin. He screamed in pain, and collapsed on top of the soundman. Steve dragged them all over to the steel bed, and handcuffed them all to it by one wrist.

He then released the little boy, and carried him into the next room where he had spotted a small pile of clothes. The little lad clung tightly to him, as he bent down and picked them up. Steve took them and the boy, down the steel stairs as far away from the film room as possible. Steve removed his hood so as not to frighten him, and helped him to get dressed.

He explained to the frightened child that he was going to call the police, and that he was to wait quietly here until they came. The little lads name was Bobby, and he told Steve that he lived in a Care home in Hackney. The owner had told him that he was going on a trip to the seaside, when the group of men had arrived at the home. Steve made a note of the name of the care home, and any other names that the boy had overheard during his ordeal.

He didn't press him for details, as he was confident that he would get full co-operation from the men upstairs. Leaving the boy eating a chocolate bar that he had brought along for just such a situation, Steve walked back up the steel stairs. The men had all regained their senses, and demanded that he release them or face the consequences.

'What consequences would that be?' Steve asked interestedly, his voice slightly disguised by the hood that he had replaced.

'One word from me, and you will end up dead, you stupid bastard. I have high level protection, and they won't be happy when they hear about this.' The leader of the group threatened.

'Remind me to ask you their names later,' said Steve quietly.

'Are you insane? We won't tell you shit,' the Camera man retorted confidently. 'Who the fuck do you think you are anyway?'

'My name is Dr. Snip, and you are in deep trouble, you will be only too pleased to tell me anything I ask.' Replied Steve.

'Let me demonstrate.'

Seeing the porn star had pleased Steve, as here was someone who would benefit from Dr. Snips speciality. The naked man had heard of Dr. Snip, and seeing him approach he frantically tried to free himself from the steel handcuffs. Although each of the men was cuffed to a corner of the bed, it was big enough that they couldn't touch each other.

Steve realised that he would need to calm the man down, before getting to work on him. He simply drew Excalibur, and smacked him across the side of the head with the flat of the blade. He pulled the limp body as far away as possible from the rest of the group, and tied a restraint between the man's scrotum and his body. Steve had learned from experience, that this type of plastic restraint stopped most of the blood loss from the body.