Report from Libya

You may recall from my last blog post two weeks ago that I was called by MI6 for an assignment in Libya.  I’ve been there ever since.  Anyone who has been following the news will know that a real war is happening here.  Followers of this blog will suspect that more is going on than you will hear about from CNN.

Soon after my arrival in Tripoli, where I was staying under cover as an oil-company executive, three Apostates tried to kill me.  In my work for MI6, I’m used to being shot at, but rarely with silver bullets.  These Apostates were mean and armed to the teeth (literally).  Last Sunday, I lured them into a trap by sunbathing at the hotel pool in a string bikini, with my twin Berettas concealed under the towel.  It was evening before they came.  Under the full moon they approached with the intention of making a meal out of me (I was already broiled to well-done by the sun) and Bang! two went down with silver between the eyes.  The third turned tail and fled.  That was a week ago.

I later learned that the third Apostate had escaped over the border into Egypt – probably heading for the secret Temple of Sutekh in the desert west of Karnak.  There he would no doubt find reinforcements. 

The day after the incident at the pool – and yes, there are still luxury hotels operating in Tripoli – I was called to act as MI6 liaison to a CIA listening post near Zawiya.  The Americans use these to monitor Libyan military communications and to co-ordinate the air strikes against Gaddafi’s troops.  There I met Cynthia, a very attractive CIA operative, fluent in Arabic and an electronics expert.  We hit it off quite well, which led me to enquire via Facebook/Twitter whether the CIA has a DADT rule (Google it, if you’re unsure).  I thought it would be too forward to ask her directly.

Some of you may be shaking your heads and thinking What about Lysandra?  After all, she has been your Companion for three thousand years!  How can you do this to her?  My answer is simple: Lysandra has been missing since 1945.  Just how long do you expect me to remain celibate?

Werewolf Fact and Fiction

“You’ve been coming here for several months now,” complained Brian the other day, “and I haven’t once seen you transform into a werewolf, not even at the full moon.  What good is having a werewolf friend if you never show me anything?  There’s nothing at all unusual about you, apart from your admittedly inhuman-looking yellow eyes – and those could simply be contact lenses.  How do I know that you haven’t been pulling my leg about this whole thing?”

I held my right hand in front of Brian’s face and willed my forearm to shift, just enough for him to see sufficient hair and claws to convince him of my sincerity.  He went white at the sight.

“It’s actually forbidden to allow humans to observe our transformations,” I said.  “If I show you any more, I will have to kill you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied, wiping his brow.  “You’ve made your point.”

“A moment ago, you said something which reveals that you harbour a common misconception about us.  We don’t ‘transform into werewolves’ – we are werewolves.  My human form is just as lycanthropic as my other shapes.”

“Shapes, plural?  You have more than one?”

“Of course.  Haven’t you ever wondered why Hollywood cannot agree on how werewolves should look?”

“I supposed it was because – as you have said yourself – the movies always get everything wrong when it comes to lycanthropy.”

“Not quite everything,” I replied.  “Most werewolf films do have some basis in fact, though it’s mixed liberally with half-truths, legends, and a great deal of rubbish.  If Hollywood wants to get it right for once, they should hire me as a technical consultant.”

“OK then, let’s start with the basics,” said Brian.  “What do werewolves really look like?  The quadrupeds-on-steroids of Twilight, or the seven-foot monsters of Dog Soldiers?”