Pastmaster: Forgotten

It was three days before the young man in room 17 came out of the coma. Three days of mystery and speculation for the people who found him and the small settlement to which he had been bought. The young man had no wallet, no phone, nothing but the clothes on his back. Was he a fugitive? A runaway? Everybody had a theory. None of which was true.

He woke up at 3:31 pm, blinked several times and acepted a glass of water which the nurse had given him. After giving him a few minutes to compose himself the doctor began asking questions. Hoping to assertain the identity of this strange individual.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head is killing me. Other than that I feel fine."

The doctor made a note on the patients chart. There was evidence of massive head trauma, but no other injuries. Strange. But then nothing about this patient added up. He asked another question.

"Do you know what year it is?"

The patient answered correctly

"Who is the president of the United States?"

Again a correct answer. The doctor found himself slightly unerved by the patient. He was answering all the questions exactly right, but he was using the exact minmum of words needed. And he couldnt place the accent. He had traveled throughout the United States but had never heard an acent like it. Who was this person?

The next question was obvious, but gave the most remarkable answer.

"What is your name?"

The patient went to answer but then stopped, his eyes began to flicker as though reading an invisible book. The calm look that had been on the patients face vanished and was replaced by one of mild panic.

"my name is... My name is... I dont know. I dont know my name."

The doctor made another note. Amnesia. Probably real, which meant the patient would probably be his problem for a while.

"Take a deep breath, you have had an accident, you hit your head and you appear to have amnesia. Your memory will return."

The patient put down his glass of water, swore and collapsed back into sleep.

CHAPTER ONE

The patients physical condition improved markedly over the next few days, the head wound was healing nicely and he was almost ready to be released and this presented a moral dilemma. Although the patients body was healing, his mind was still as blank as a slate. Which meant that they couldnt release him as they had no idea where to release him to. With these problems buzzing around in his head the doctor entered room 17.

"And how are we feeling today Joe?"

The patient had taken the name Joe Doe, primarily beause he was an unknown but also because he claimed it felt familar. If nothing else he had a sense of humor.

"Fine doc, well aside from the fact that I cant remember anything before I woke up here. Where is here anyway? And can I go yet?"

"Physically I could let you go right now, but as I have stated we cant release you until we have somewhere to release you to. We dont want you to come back now do we?"

Joe thought about this. It made sense, but he didnt want to be stuck in a bed in a hospital. He wanted to be out there tracking down who he was. He knew the answers. He KNEW he knew the answers, but he couldnt quite get there.

"Makes sense. But can I at least go outside for a stroll? I'm going a little stir crazy in here."

A few seconds went by.

"All right, but I'm coming with you. And when I say to come back here we come back. No arguing. Do you understand me?"

The fresh sunlight felt wonderful on Joes face. After being cooped up for several days, even being out for a few minutes had perked him up immensley. He stuck close to the doctor though. Thre was something in the back of his brain telling him that he was not safe. Just a whisper of a feeling, but he felt that he should pay attention it. As though he had paid a lot of attention to it.Who was he?

About ten yards from the hospital, there was a small diner with a handful of people in it. The food smelled wonderful and after nothing but hospital food for several days Joe was ravenous. As if sensing this the doctor began moving towards it.

"Guess you could do with something thats actually worth eating? Come on. You can give me the money back when you get some money."

They made a curious pair entering the diner, in a strange way they could almost have been father and son. Both were tall, with dark hair, but whereas the Doctor had a slight greyness at the temples, grey eyes that were normally found behind a pair of glasses and a slightly flabby frame, the person now calling himself Joe Doe had none of these.

To look at he was attractive, Black hair and Eyes set in a skin with a slight olive tint, he was too stocky to be called thin but too thin to be called stocky. The eyes were mired in confusion as he turned his attention inward to try and answer the questions the plagued him.

A waitress came over and the Doctor ordered two beefburgers and two cups of coffee as naturally a breathing. But something in that sentence bothered Joe. It wasnt right. He didnt eat one of those things. Beef? No, he was positive he wasnt a vegetarian. He ate potatoes and that just left the coffee, but he could remember that he did drink something hot and it wasnt coffee.

Before the thoguht process could complete itself Joe realised something. People were staring at him. He glanced around, without realising it he had taken the seat so that he could watch the people coming in, but now he shifted uncomfortably around as he looked at the 'diner'. There was no menu, no list of prices and now that he thought of it, there was no music. Didnt these places like to play music?

And the people, they were all dressed in the same basic clothes, army fatigues, probably surplus and definatley not fashionable. Joe looked at the Doctor again. He had no name badge and had never offered his name, and although he did wear a white coat, he had never seemed very comfortable in it.

Another thought popped into his head. Why hadnt he been reported missing? He had yet to meet a police officer but he had been awake and repsonsive for some time now. This wasnt a town as such, it was almost like a military base posing as a town. Wherever the hell it was and whoever the hell was in it, they had helped him when he needed it and that could only be a good thing. All the answers would come in time. He was sure of it.

CHAPTER TWO

Answers were something that Bureau would have dearly loved to have at that moment in time. She was looking, as was every single intelligence agency in the world for the man curently sitting in a strange diner assuming that has name was Joe Doe.

Again she went through the planned schedule that he had for once followed. He had landed in Washington DC on schedule, gone to the meetings he was supposed to have gone to, and on his last few days gone to see the monuments he had said he was going to see.

One afternoon, he had rung to say that he was going to take a week of holiday if she didnt mind. At the time, the world had been quiet and she hadnt minded in the slightest. And so John had gone for a weeks adventure holiday.

And had not been heard from since.

At first, she had assumed that was in an area without signal on his mobile, which was if a bit annoying not serious. She knew where he was and if she needed him then the Americans would send a helicopter to go and pick him up. But then the company had called and asked why he had missed his meeting point where the group was supposed to have met.

At this point Bureau started to panic. She called the Americans who said that they had placed him on a train which was going non-stop until it reached the station where John was supposed to have been met. It had stopped once, when a car had stopped in the middle of the tracks. They were assuming that it was then that John had vanished. A check of the cabin he was supposed to have inhabited turned absolutley nothing. All of Johns posessions were still there, including his watch.

With this piece of information, the Americans had decided that he had been kidnapped and was probably being tortured for information. Running off of that assumption, every code that John knew had been changed, and there was even talk of moving their office. There was also the largest covert search in history was happening. And it was turning up nothing.

Joe Doe knew nothing of the search for the person he used to be, nor was he any clsoer to finding out what kind of place he had stumbeled into. But he had solved the mystery of what was wrong with his lunch.

The coffee.

As soon as he had picked it up and the aroma had hit his nose he had known the he didnt drink coffee. He didnt even like the stuff. He turned to the waitress and had asked instead for a cup of tea. Worknig through his decision a few seconds later, he realsied that he had worked out that the chances of getting a coke were exactly none and that to drink water would be considered impolite. How was he able to work these things out?

The Doctor had noticed the decision to change drink.

"Something wrong with our coffee Joe?"

Joe shook his head once.

"No, I just got a feeling that I dont or didnt drink coffee. I drink tea instead."

As those words left Joes mouth, he suddenly had a flash of a mug, a huge mug, filled with tea. It was filthy, and it was being carried by someone he knew, someone he worked with, but he couldnt see her face...

"Well at least you know something about yoursefl that you didnt know earlier. And like they say, every little helps!"

The food was served and although it was nothing special, Joe devored it eagerly.

CHAPTER THREE

Most people think that the British Empire no longer exists. That the British simply through it away after the Second World War as though they were spoilt children losing interest in something that had once fascinated them. Most people also thought that the United Nations was a talking shop, as outmoded and useless in the 21st century as the League of Nations had been in the 20th.

However, beneath the resolutions and the Security Council meetings, there lurked another side to the United Nations. Although ti wasnt supposed to, the UN did maintain a small armed force designed to enter into conflicts that might send the world into a third World War.

However, beneath all of that there lurked a deeper darker secret. One that no government spoke of but all were slaves to. A force that was designed, funded to be and almost was rogue.

It was called PASTMASTER.

One bright morning in October a group of terrorists had emerged into the spotlight with the biggest set of attacks the planet had ever seen. Every single first world nation was attacked and all but one went off perfectly. It quickly emerged that this group calling itself 'Sons of History' was beyond anything that even the most panicked conspiracy theorist had seen in their nightmares.

SOH had infiltrated almost every government, business and community in the world. It acted as though it had limitless funding and nothing that could even remotley be called a conscience.

At the head of the group was a being called 'The Historian'. Of this person, nothing was known. No age, race, sex, it was not even agreed upon that this person existed. The group pulled off attack after attack almost without failure. Except for two. And both were foiled by the exact same man. He had stumbled upon the both attacks by pure chance and foiled them by the slimmest of margins. At this point, he had tracked down and forced his way onto PASTMASTER.

Almost immediatley, PASTMASTER had lept into the fight against SOH with near instant effect. It had won battle after battle,found mole after mole, but at some cost. As SOH had found its way into almost every government department, PASTMASTER couldnt be bound to any of them. As SOH was global, so was PASTMASTER. And neither side was aware of what its limits were.

Under a secret resolution that was singed by every signle member of the UN, an operative of PASTMASTER could commander anything that was deemed necessary to the fight, they could imprison anybody they deemed SOH even if there was no evidence and they were deemed to be beyond the meddlnig of any government for any reason. And the man at the heart of it all was an English man called Jonathon Peter Davies.

CHAPTER

"And how are we feeling this morning Joe?"

The sun was again streaming in through the windows in the little room that Joe had slept in. Well, that he had tried to sleep in, strange visions had swarmed through his sleep, misty rooms with people in who had no faces, a city, old but beautiful shone in his memories.

"I'm fine. Ready to go for a walk again."

"Ok. But same rules as yesterday. When I say to come back, we come back."

Joe submitted. His walk yesterday had tired him out, and everybody had stared at him. It had been a relief to get back to his room.

At first the walk had been pretty unexceptional, people had stared at him again but there was no malice in their stares and after a while Joe started to tolerate it. Most of the expressions had been sympathetic. He guessed that he would have felt sorry for himself if he had been his usual self.

An argument shattered the calm atmosphere that lay over the town like a blanket. A group of three young men about Joes age were arguing with a girl. She was the waitress from the diner. A pretty thing who looked to be about eighteen.

"And I'm saying that i'm not interested in you Robert."

"Well thats something that youll have to overcome. Now lets go for a drive, all civilised and romantic."

He grabbed her arm and started dragging her towards a waiting car.

Joe didnt even register that he was moving until it was too late.

"Lady said she wasnt interested. Now let. Her. Go."

The one called Robert turned to look at Joe and burst into laughter. His two friends followed laughing a hyena like laugh.

"Well look who it is, mr. No Name no past Joe Doe! What are you going to do Joe? Forget about this?"

The voice became menacing

"Thats the best thing to do."

Joe shot a quick look at the doctor. He was standing quietly watching the scene as though measuring Joe, seeing what he could do. Joe was pretty sure that this stance was not in keeping with the Hypocratic oath.

The three wre all corn fed, large and muscular. The one called Robert would be the leader,
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The car pulled up, already the object of suspicion, outsiders didnt belong here. They werent wanted, they werent needed. And all they brought was trouble.

The two people who got out could have been a couple, they were both young and in pretty good shape. The woman was just plain enough to stop her from being pretty, the guy was of Asian descent and moved like a Panther. He was wearing one way sunglasses which lended him the unfortuante air of being a cousin of the Terminator.

"I'll check the bar, you check with the police."

The guy nodded and took out a sheet of paper. He didnt have to look hard for the neares officer of the law, officer Blaine was heading towards them with the intention of getting them to go somewhere else very quickly.

"Help you sir?"

The man looked him up and down, as if analysing him.

"I am looking for this man, he is a good friend of mine and we think he might have wound up here."

A printout was offered. It showed a tanned young man with dark hair, eyes, and a serious expression on his face. Blaine looked at it for a second or two. The quailty wasnt great but it did resemble Joe. But this guy looked like trouble. And Joe was settling in nicely.

"Havent seen him. Sorry."

Sam knew he was lying. But he couldnt make a scene. He hoped Bureau would get more out of these people.


Bureau walked into what she guessed was a diner of some kind. This place was indeed 'full of creeps' but she just wanted her questions answered. Then she was going to go. She smiled at the woman behind the bar. Who shot her a look of suspicion, then a lgihtbulb went on as she realised that she was the first to talk to these strange people.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Just a coke if you've got one."

"We dont have coke, can do you a home brewed beer or some coffee though?"

Bureau blinked. This was probably some kind of survivalist camp disguising itself as a town. Which meant that if she mentioned she was with the government she would get little to no help and possibly a case of lead poisoning.

"Coffee would be fine, black with no sugar."

The girl looked as if she had no idea what sugar was. But the coffee came quickly and the waitress settled down to the business of interrogation.

"So, you and your boyfriend having a nice road trip? Dont get many people coming through here."

"Oh, hes not my boyfriend. Hes my friend. Were looking for someone whos gone missing and we were wondering if he came through here? Would have been about two months ago."

She offered the picture of Davies.

The girl took it and studdied it almost out of curiosity more than any impulse to help. After a second or two she called the chef over.

"Does this look like Joe to you? He's paler but theres a similarity."

The chef nodded. The waitress turned back to Bureau.

"He looks like a guy who we found in the river about that time. He had that memory loss thing but it could be him. He normally comes in for a beer about 6. Your welcome to wait."

Bureau could have wept with relief. John might be alive! But she needed to see him ASAP.

"I'd like to see him now, do you know where he is?"

"Sorry hun, he and the boys have gone off hunting, six is the best we can do."

"Ok, thanks."

They headed back to the car to make a phone call and try and find somewhere to sleep.

They were in the bar at a quater to six, figuring that it was better to be early than late.

At about twenty past six a rowdy group of young men came in. One of them did indeed look like Davies, but they needed to be sure.

"Hey Janice, six beers for six thirsty hunters!"

"Ok Joe, oh, those people in the corner are looking for you, they reckon you might be someone that theyve lost."

The guy turned and headed over to them, with his fellow 'thirsty hunters' looking on in interest.

"Help you?"

The phrase was delivered in a way that stated that he didnt really care less who they were and what they were doing, but they were here, and he may as well do something to acknowledge that fact.

























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At that moment, panic was taking hold in three very different centres around the globe. Conversly they were all panicking about the same question, but none of them know the answer. Where the hell was Davies?

For MI5 the question was about the loss of one of the key figures in the war against hte shady group calling itself 'Sons of History' a terrorist group that planned and then acted out acts of terror utilising vaguely historical motives. Davies was one of their experts and he had been loaned to the CIA (against his wishes) for several weeks.

The CIA was panicking because Davies was on their turf, and was their responsiblity.