The Karpov Code - New Version

An original story by Roa1 and Fh20s.

Grateful thanks to our beta-reader, Louise Hargadon.

Thanks also to HeatherTN for doing a preliminary read-through for us.

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Before you read please note:

This is a NEW version of the original story. In this version violent scenes and implied torture are no worse than that which would have been shown in the series itself (in our view).

Although we normally write C/R slash, this story is NOT slash. Craig, Richard and Sharron are all heterosexual in this tale.

It's a stand-alone story, unrelated to any episode, and features all three Champions and Tremayne.

It is a long story, running to several chapters. You can access each new chapter at the top of the page on the right using the drop down box. We intend to publish one new chapter per week. We've already completed the story so you won't be left hanging.

Reviews are always welcome.

Chapter 1 'A blonde...a drink...'

Richard, stripped to the waist, was lying tied down on a table in what appeared to be a cellar. He turned his head to the right and saw Craig, his shirt ripped open to his midriff, bound to a chair with his hands behind his back. A small moan escaped Stirling's lips as he opened his eyes. Brown eyes locked with blue in silent acknowledgment of their predicament. Richard hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath.

"I thought the case was over?"

"So did I," his friend replied. "For some reason I don't think this is related."

"Great! Now all we have to do is figure out what's going on." Richard said, as he made another futile attempt at breaking the leather strap around his wrist. After a great deal of effort, with no reward, he gave up. He looked over at his clothes piled on the floor. 'Another jacket ruined,' he thought.

"Have you any idea what happened?" he asked.

"I'll tell you what I remember," replied Craig, suppressing another moan as he turned to look at Richard and realised just how much the movement made his head ache. "It was late. You went over to the bar to offer to buy that blonde a drink - just after you'd seen her buy herself one. I thought I'd leave you to it but when I got back to our room I realised I had your keys. I came back down just as the two of you were leaving but something didn't feel right. I started to follow you and as soon as I stepped outside it suddenly felt as though a ton of bricks had landed on the back of my head."

Richard thought for a moment. 'A blonde...a drink...Craig was probably going to have to be more specific. No, wait...'

"The Pluto Bar?" Richard asked.

"Yes, and the blonde who'd been eyeing you up all night"

"Hang on, she bought me a drink."

"That figures, you sure can be a dope sometimes," muttered Craig

"What?"

"I said you must have been doped. You know, in the drink."

'I thought she seemed a little keen,' Richard thought.

"OK, OK. So how long have we been here?" he said aloud.

"I was out cold, or had you forgotten?"

Barrett ignored the slightly sarcastic tone in his colleague's voice and said, "I don't think I can break these straps, can you get free?"

Craig squirmed about on the chair for a couple of minutes, wishing that the pain in his head would subside enough to let him think.

"I can't get enough slack to snap the ropes. I could probably break the chair if I could stand up and get some leverage against the wall," he finally said, "but the legs are screwed into the floor so I can't move it."

It was at that moment the door opened. Both men craned their necks and saw three figures framed in the doorway. Two large men flanked a smaller one, slightly in front of them, who stood watching the Nemesis agents for a moment and then walked slowly into the room towards Craig. After a moment's pause he spoke.

"So, Mr. Barrett, I don't suppose you'd like to tell me about the Karpov Code?"

Craig frowned slightly and tried desperately to think clearly enough to make a decision about whether to correct the man's error. One of the larger men walked over to where Richard lay on the table. The other grabbed hold of Barrett's hair. Their boss continued to address Craig.

"You see Mr. Barrett, I rather need you conscious. Your friend on the other hand..."

The larger man punched Richard in the jaw. Craig heard the sound of the impact and felt it too, through the mental link he and his colleague shared. He fought back a wave of sickness as he realised that it was too late to point out that he wasn't Barrett and that he was going to have to sit there and watch, helpless to stop this. Stirling struggled to think but his brain felt like soup.

"Too slow, Mr. Barrett."

Another blow to the jaw. Richard groaned in pain, his breath short. The blow had split his lip and he could taste blood. Craig tried desperately to come up with a way to get them to untie him. 'And quickly,' he thought as a fist smacked straight into his friend's ribs. The sudden, sharp pain wasn't helping him think straight and, whatever he came up with, it was going to be a lot easier if his colleague could still walk out of here.

Meanwhile Richard was in the grip of two conflicting very strong emotions. The first was anger at the men who were inflicting this pain on him and forcing Craig to sit there helplessly watching.

'My God, they'll be sorry when we get free,' he thought grimly.

He was also intensely curious as to what the Karpov Code meant to these men.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of the man's balled up fist ready to strike.

"All right, all right," yelled Craig.

Richard wondered if he was hearing things. His colleague was going to co-operate with the man about a code he knew nothing about. Barrett was confident of this fact because he'd never heard of it either.

"You need the code?" Craig asked.

"Don't you dare," hissed Richard, trying his best to play along while he worked out what his friend was up to.

The other man ignored Richard.

"Well?" he asked.

"I'll need a computer," Craig continued.

The man considered this for a moment and then turned to the larger of the two men who had been using Richard as a punch bag.

"Any trouble, kill him," he said gesturing towards Barrett.

As Craig's hands were being untied, he watched one of the men put a gun to Richard's head. Unfortunately for the thug in question he'd gravely underestimated the extra strength the Nemesis man was able to call upon when he was angry and, right now, he was seriously annoyed. Craig got to his feet as the ropes fell away from his hands. While the men were watching the American, Richard - in a single smooth movement - flexed his muscles, broke the leather strap securing his wrist, grabbed the gun and threw it to his colleague, who caught it deftly.

"Set him loose," commanded Craig, while the men were still recovering from the shock of the sudden reversal of fortunes.

"Do it!" snapped the smallest of the three men, watching the gun warily.

As Craig watched the men undo the buckles of the leather straps Richard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Once free, he rolled on to one side, spitting blood on the floor.

"What now?" Richard asked as he looked at the three men. Two of them were standing at the foot of the table on which Barrett was sitting, the third man stood very close to Richard's side.

"Well," Craig replied, "we need them conscious, for the moment."

As Stirling glanced towards the two men who were standing together, the thug nearest Richard thought he saw a chance to turn the tables yet again. It was in his mind to incapacitate the Nemesis man then use him as shield while he and the other two men rushed Craig. He swung his fist at Richard who reacted with lightning speed, jumping down from the table and felling him with a single powerful punch. The man lay on the floor groaning and sobbing in agony. Barrett watched him dispassionately for a few moments then put him out of his misery with a well-aimed karate chop. The other thug looked down at the crumpled wreck of his colleague and paled visibly. Craig almost felt sorry for him until he saw the bruises that were starting to appear on Richard's skin. Taking advantage of the men's shock the American said,

"So, if you don't want to end up on the floor next to your friend there, I suggest you start talking."

The leader of the group hesitated for a moment. Richard was not in a patient mood. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

"All right, I'll talk."

Craig didn't blame him; if Richard had been looking at him like that he might well have talked too.

"I'm working for...er...somebody...a man. He told me to get the information out of you."

"You're going have to do better than that," Stirling said.

Richard moved threateningly close again, meaningfully striking his left palm with his right fist. The man's face turned the colour of putty and words began to spill out of him, tumbling over one another in his haste to tell all he knew and avoid being hurt again.

"I don't know his name, he didn't tell me. I'm telling you the truth. Oh God, please don't hurt me any more. I'll talk, I'll talk, I'll tell you everything I know, everything, only please, please keep away."

The man backed away as he spoke, clearly terrified.

"Keep talking," Richard said, his voice low.

"I'm supposed to meet him, once I get the information," the man stammered.

"Craig," said Stirling.

It took Richard a moment to realise his friend was talking to him. He turned to see the American indicating that he had something he needed to say. Craig kept the gun trained on the two men as Richard approached.

"I'm thinking we should let him," the American said in a whisper.

"I'm sorry?"

"We let him arrange the meeting and then we have a little chat with his boss."

Richard looked back at the man.

"How do you set up the meeting?" he rapped out.

The man cringed back still further and seemed to be having difficulty controlling his tongue.

"I'm waiting," Barrett said dangerously.

"Bbb..by telephone, I have a contact number."

Craig pointed to the phone in the room.

"Dial," he commanded.

"Maybe you should sit down?" Craig said to his colleague as the man dialled, "I think you're making him nervous."

Richard sat down and rubbed his jaw as his friend pointed the gun at the man.

"No tricks," Stirling told him, "keep it short and calm."

The man nodded and then spoke.

"It's Jenkins; I've got want you want."

He paused, listening for a moment.

"I'll be there."

He replaced the receiver.

"7 a.m Cafe Royal."

"You double cross us and you'll be sorry," Richard said as he rose, checking his watch. "We've got some time to kill. I'm thinking we tie them all up then we can call somebody to pick them up."

The thugs were swiftly dealt with and then, having got Jenkins to tell them their present location, Richard called Tremayne to advise him of the situation.

"Everything okay?" Craig asked as his friend put down the receiver.

"He's sending the local police along." Richard replied.

"So why the scowl?"

"When I asked Tremayne to get them to bring us some new shirts, I got the impression that he expects us to pay for them ourselves." Richard said gloomily.

"Once he knows the full story I'm sure we'll be able to charge them to expenses." Craig said.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Richard said, and lapsed into a morose silence.

Craig shrugged his shoulders and turned away from his colleague. He'd learned that it was best to leave his friend to his own thoughts when he got into this kind of mood so he sat in silence as the two of them waited for the police to show up.

They arrived within ten minutes bearing two new shirts. Richard scowled as he read the price tags but then shook off his gloomy mood and, together with Craig, left the police guarding the captives and took a look around the building but found nothing. Frustrated, they got Jenkins from the cellar and returned to their hotel room to make plans for the meeting at the Cafe Royal.

An hour later the two men were finishing off their breakfast while finalising the plan, having locked Jenkins in their bathroom.

"You'd better get going," Craig told his colleague.

"Right," Richard replied as he took a last bite of his toast. He grabbed his gun from the table and headed for the door. "I'll go have some fun in the undergrowth."

Stirling smiled to himself as his friend left. Richard hadn't been particularly thrilled to be acting as back up but the bruises on his face made him stand out in a crowd so it had to be the American who would have a drink at an adjoining table while his colleague kept a gun trained on Jenkins from afar.

A little later Craig sat down in the cafe to wait for Jenkins' boss to arrive. Instantly two waiters converged towards the table at which the Nemesis man was seated.

"Well done Johnson," one of the 'waiters' said to the erstwhile Jenkins, "you fooled him nicely."

Craig felt something, that he strongly suspected was a gun, pushed into the small of his back. Abruptly he half rose from his seat.

"Slowly, Mr. Barrett, slowly now. You are going to walk out of here nice and quietly, otherwise there will be an unfortunate accident with the gun."

The Nemesis man ran his hand through his hair, sighed and did as he was told. Richard was kneeling in cover in the park across the road when he saw his friend rise and start walking. From Craig's increased heart rate it was immediately obvious that things had gone awry.

"Craig," he whispered, "I'll follow you so don't do anything stupid."

It was at that moment a car stopped in front of the cafe and Barrett could do nothing but watch as Stirling was bundled into the back seat. He was just about to communicate with his friend when he saw Jenkins/Johnson point in the general direction of the bushes in which Richard was hiding and the two waiters headed towards him as the car pulled away. There was no option but to run for it, so he chased after the car as fast as he could, not caring if it might elicit a few awkward questions later. Even so, he didn't really stand a chance and after a few minutes running flat out he saw the car turning in the distance. He had to stop.

He was breathing hard, which was damned painful given the state of his ribs, but that wasn't what was bothering him at that moment. He was going to have to tell Tremayne what had happened, which was going to make the two Nemesis men look somewhat stupid. On top of that he'd lost Craig and he knew his colleague was going to find himself in serious trouble. Not only could his friend have no idea what the Karpov code was, he was also stuck with having to carry on with the pretence that he, Craig, was Richard Barrett, a known expert on code breaking. It was far too late for him to have any chance of convincing them of the mistake that had been made. He and Stirling had been careful to say nothing that would reveal their true identities all the time that Jenkins/Johnson had been in earshot. Richard now began to doubt the wisdom of that. The only consolation at that moment was the knowledge that they hadn't started to try to make Craig talk yet. He knew that that wouldn't last long though and he tried to mentally prepare himself for the moment when he would feel the effects of whatever 'persuasion' they decided to use.

Ten minutes later he put the phone down; rather relieved he hadn't been in Tremayne's office for that conversation. He had been, however, somewhat reassured to learn that Sharron was on her way over.

He also had the number plate of the car he'd seen picking up his colleague. The only thing to do now was head to the local police station and hopefully get the address of the owner.

As Richard set off in the direction of the police station a sudden pain in his arms told him that Craig's 'questioning' must have begun.