Old Wars Episode IV - A New Pension Book

Into the Valley Of Death rode the five hundred pensioners on their
mopeds. Each one had a packed-lunch strapped to their pillion and a
nice warm blanket wrapped around their legs as they rode. Their faces
were grim as they approached the mouth of the valley. This was it. This
was the moment they'd been waiting for. All their training had been for
this moment. But they were ready. They were lean, mean, slightly
doddery fighting machines. Into the valley they went.

Clive watched them from a nearby hill-top. 'The fools!' He gloated.
'They've fallen for it! The day is mine!' He fiddled with his small
joystick and directed his wheelchair back from the skyline. It wouldn't
do to give the game away when he was so close to victory. He turned to
Glenda.
"Break out the monkeys."
"Right away Sir Clive." Glenda swallowed audibly as she sped to carry
out her orders. She'd never actually believed that he would go through
with it. Never believed it would go this far. But she had been wrong.
She felt a momentary pang of regret as she thought of Alf out there on
his moped, his scrawny arms gripping the handlebars, his grey eyes grim
and determined. There had been a time when she would have died for
those eyes, but that was long ago. She shrugged of her doubts and
headed for the Monkey-Quarters.

On the plain below the valley-mouth was obscured by a cloud of dust.
The valliant riders plodded through, unheeding of the discomfort it
caused their lungs - there was the odd grunt of "Blinking dust!" or
"Dashed inconvenient!", but that was it.

Alf rubbed at his grimy goggles. He was Grey-One, the leader of
Grey-Squadron. It was he who would front the first charge. He was
bursting with pride. Of all the pensioners Southsea had had to offer,
he was the Chosen One. He wouldn't fail, he vowed, he couldn't fail. He
raised his arm in the air and signalled the assault.

"Grey-One to base, Grey-One to base - Grey Squandron entering the
canyon now."
"Roger that Grey-One" Crackled the reply in his earphones. "Godspeed
old man, Base out."
The main body of the riders eased off to the right and began circling
the valley, waiting for their turn to attack. The 40 members of Grey
Squadron carried on, straight as a die, and entered the canyon that had
been their target for so long.
"Grey-One to Grey-Squadron - Attack formation!"
Behind him the squadron fanned out into an arrow shape, arming their
catapults as they did so. This was it. Now or never.

Alf scanned the valley around him. They should run into some defences
any minute, he figured. Clive wouldn't have left the Stannah
undefended. He was too cunning for that. Right on cue he spotted the
first airborne-objects.
"Grey Squadron - Monkeys at 2 o'clock! Weapons are free, repeat weapons
are free!"
He loosed a homing-banana from his catapult and swerved right as a
monkey appeared right ahead of him.
"Take that you blighter!"
The monkey exploded of his starboard side as the banana struck home. He
heard the sound of more monkeys exploding in the background, and then
there was sudden silence. They were through the first line! He punched
the air in exaltation.
"Grey One to Grey-Sqaudron, Good shooting chaps! Keep your eyes out for
the next lot!"
"Grey One to base - we are through the first line!"
"Base to Grey - One, that's great Grandad - don't get cocky!"
They rounded a bend in the canyon and suddenly the air was alive with
monkeys once again. Alf dodged and weaved and fired bananas for all he
was worth and suddenly he was in the clear again. Glancing behind he
saw that they were down to about 28 in number now - the monkeys had
taken their toll.
"Grey-Six to Grey-One, we lost Fred! He bought it saving Ronald!"
Alf shook his head in Frustration. Fred - Grey-Two - had been his next
in command. And a damn fine pilot to boot. Clive would pay for
this.

They rounded another bend and Alf automatically bought up his catapult,
expecting another hail of monkeys. This time however, there were none.
'Was that it?' He thought. 'Was that the best he had to offer?' They
rode on for another hundred yards and still there were no more monkeys.
'It couldn't be that easy... could it?' A grin began to surface as he
rounded the next bend. Just a few hundred yards left - they were nearly
there!

"Grey-One to Grey-Squadron. The Stannah is nearly in range - break off
and cover my back! Grey-three, you come with me. Get that catapult
ready Dennis."
"Roger Grey-One."

From his vantage point far above Clive watched the squadron advance. It
was all going perfectly! That fool Alf HADN'T got through of course.
Clive was far too clever for that. He'd saved his best defences for
last. Silently he blessed the instinct that had urged him to buy those
Egyptian-Monkeys all those years ago. The Egyptian Monkeys that were
now held in reserve just round the final bend. Alf didn't stand a
chance.
"Glenda - get ready to fire!"

Alf rounded the final bend and there it was. The Stannah. The stairlift
that would allow Clive to mount any peak in the world whenever he
wanted. That would allow him to plunder what should be sacrosanct. It
MUST be destroyed! He armed another homing-banana and sped on.
"Wait, Alf!" The voice was soft and insistant in his ear. "Trust your
instincts Alf! Use the Force Alf!" He shook his head. And realised that
the homing-bananas wouldn't work - their guidance systems would be
affected by the proximity of the Stannah. How had he forgotten that?!
He switched to manual-bananas.

"Alf- what's wrong? You've switched of your homing bananas!"
"Nothing Base - I'm alright! Grey-One is going in! Stay with me
Dennis!"
"Roger Grey-One! Let's blow this thing and go home!"

Clive counted down silently. Almost there. Almost there. Just a second
longer and Alf would be done for! "NOW GLENDA! FIRE THE EGYPTIANS!"
This would sort him! He scanned the horizon, waiting for the sky to be
blotted out by the huge, 10-foot tall Egyptian Monkeys. But the sky
stayed clear. "I SAID NOW GLENDA! FIRE THE EGYPTIANS! GLENDA?"
Glenda had crept up silently behind him.
"I'm sorry Clive." She said quietly. "I can't do it. It's...it's just
not right. I have to follow my heart..."
"EH?" Clive strained to turn in his chair, apopletic with rage. "YOU
WHAT! RELEASE THE MONKEYS NOW WOMAN OR YOU'LL BE WORKING IN WOOLWORTHS
FOR AN ETERNITY!"
"I'm sorry." She said again. "But no." She released the brake on his
wheelchair and sent him careening down the slope to the valley below.
"GO TO IT ALF! GO GET THEM OLD CHAP!" Her voice shattered on the
wind.

Alf tensed his fingers, ready to fire. His mind was completely
focussed. Somewhere at the back of his mind he registered that
something was heading down the hillside towards to the Stannah, but he
dismissed it as unimportant. The Stannah was everything. It was time.
His arm drew back smoothly and in the same motion swung forward again.
The banana spun gracefully, in slow motion across the valley. And
landed on the seat of the Stannah.
"IT'S A HIT!" He screamed. "Pull out Dennis - she's going to
blow!"
He wrenched round on the handlebars and hurtled up the exit-canyon,
Grey-Three close behind.

Back at the target, Clive was heading full-pelt for the Stannah. He saw
the yellow flash of the banana hitting home and realised the game was
up. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The world went red, then black.

Alf felt the shock of the explosion and a moment later he was deafened
by the thunder of detonation. They'd done it! By jove they'd done
it!
"Grey-One to Base, mission accomplished, repeat - mission accomplished!
I am heading home! Grey Squadron, group up and head on back - we've got
a bingo-challenge to plan!"

On the hilltop above the valley, Glenda smiled in contentment. She
could live with herself now. And who knows... maybe Alf would want to
to. It wouldn't be easy, but it was worth a try. She started on down
the valley, heading into a new life.