The Gloaming Dawn

Prologue

February 22, 1956

Only the carnelian glow of their French-style cigarettes illumined the corner of the room where they sat together, the feeble light outlining little of the upholstered Victorian-aged armchairs in which they reclined and providing even less in regard to their features, though red glints of the burning tobacco were reflected in their dark, almond-shaped eyes. These were almost feminine in appearance, although that impression was dramatically denied further consideration by their hooked noses and hawk-like features. These two men understood they would never be considered physically attractive, not by the citizens of this nation in which they now lived nor by their own native countrymen. No, that particular privilege and burden had not been apportioned to them as part of their individual destinies, but they knew what had: power. And with that, responsibility.

Years ago they had been commanded to exchange the comforts of kith and kin to come and live here in England, to immerse themselves in a culture and religion and a style of language and expression which lacked all of what they considered refinement and common courtesy. Not that any Englishman or Englishwoman would ever consider their home country as other than archaic and barbaric, wracked by deceit and corruption, and in the worst of their sanctimonious and superior attitude filled with simple-minded and boorish people. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Each drew deeply upon their cigarettes, eyeing each other in the sudden flare of light. Finding common agreement in their opposite's countenance, they stubbed them out and chose to continue their conversation in the deepening darkness: an environment they had lived within figuratively, and literally, on occasions such as this one, for close to half of their existences. Such were the considerations and plans which were reflective of the minds of those they owed their deepest fealty.

To this point in time, they had exchanged the usual banter associated with men of their education and social standing and Oxford-imbued supercilious view of the world. In reality, there wasn't much they had to say to each other in regard to the true reason for their meeting together on this cold and ice-bound London night. They had fulfilled their obligations, played their own unique parts, and had ensured that those they contracted to perform certain and specific duties had acted in full accordance with the wishes of their superiors. In truth, there was nothing more for them to do until they received further instructions. Yet their reunion, here within these rich accommodations, in the sense that it was, was not to celebrate. That...that would be for later, if success might ultimately be obtained.

"One could say that the stage has now been fully set, that the actors who have been assigned their roles have assumed their positions and are only awaiting the orchestra to end the prelude to the first act," said the older of the two, as was his right by custom.

"Yes, though it could be added that this 'production' has its roots in an old story, a full and sacred one," the other replied in a voice fully modulated by a broad English accent, matching that of his companion.

"Hardly a story," countered the elder, said with only gentle chiding, for these two were related and not that distant in those terms, though none in England were aware of that connection.

"I intended no disrespect. Perhaps it's due to where we currently are and what is about to re-commence outside these doors which has prompted me to make use of that word...as well as your own earlier allusions to a drama." The younger man was referring to the performance they were taking in this evening along with their wives: women who'd been selected to carry out their roles not only due to their seductive beauty but also as a consequence of their native intelligence and ingrained social grace and their willingness (and obedience) to follow their husbands and dwell within this strange world of the English. The intermission would shortly come to a close. The soft chiming alerting the audience of the need to return to their seats would soon begin to sound out. As had this meeting been arranged, so also this private room. The management of the theatre had been more than happy to supply it, not only due to the generous stipend extended to them, but also due to the elder of the two men's current standing within London's upper and exclusive social circles.