CHAPTER ONE: An Interrupted Retirement [The story picks up in 1968, shortly after where the classic 1966-67 series ended.]
It was ten minutes until midnight. Wendy Scanlon looked up from behind the crossword puzzle book she was doing. Not a customer in sight. Good. She'd be able to close up shop on time for once. At twenty-five, Wendy had been excited at the chance to open her own store. When the loan came through, allowing her to buy her own franchise in the OK convenience store, she had been thrilled. She had envisioned striking a note for women's rights, and of the convenience store being simply the first step towards becoming a poster child of women who had become successful in business. After all, she was young, smart, and most guys said that her figure and long blonde hair was incredibly attractive (although she doubted it). She hadn't counted on an appalling lack of customers, being short-handed, and working so many late hours that having a social life was something she could only dream about. Wendy sighed. She'd give it five more minutes and then she was calling it a night. Returning to her crossword, she read the clue: "The sinner's reward i _." Wendy swallowed. Then she penciled in the word "death". Now there was a cheerful thought when you're all alone in the middle of the night! Maybe it was time to set down her crossword puzzle and pick up a True Romance magazine. "Wendy Scanlon?" "Yes?" Wendy looked up and cried out in shock. Before her was a large, muscular man dressed all in black, from his black leather jacket to his black shirt and trousers. But there were two things that got her attention the most: the ugly revolver in his left hand and the black executioner's hood that covered his face. "Come with me," ordered the intruder. "But…" "Come with me now," repeated the man, "Or I'll be forced to kill you." Wendy swallowed. "Please…please don't hurt me." "I won't if you follow orders," said the man, "I'm not telling you again." Reluctantly, Wendy Scanlon rose from her seat. The hooded man motioned towards her with his gun. Wendy's heart hammered in her chest. She had seen news reports over the years of women kidnapped from wherever they worked late at night, and her father had warned her of the dangers. She had laughed off his warnings at the time. How she wished she had listened! "Go on!" ordered the gunman. Shivering in terror, Wendy reluctantly walked out of the front door. Then a black hood was shoved over her face.
District Attorney Frank P. Scanlon raised his glass in a toast. The Chicago DA didn't entertain much in his home. The last time anyone could remember him having guests over was to celebrate his daughter's graduation from college; that and the unfortunate death of his wife a year ago. But tonight he was pulling out all the stops: champagne, a banquet, and good music on the record player. Not bad for a party that only involved three guests. Britt Reid, a tall, handsome man of 33, raised his own glass in a toast. Britt was clean shave, powerfully built, and had dark black hair. Britt had inherited the Sentinel—Chicago's leading newspaper—from his father and had doubled circulation during his tenure as the managing editor. Lenore "Casey" Case, an incredibly attractive blonde and Britt's personal secretary, sat at his side in a magnificent blue evening gown. Britt looked at her and smiled. As far as he was concerned, she had never looked more gorgeous.Kato, Britt's valet, sat beside the couple. Kato was a medium-sized Japanese man that seemed to be solid muscle. His fierce talent with the martial arts was matched only by his intense loyalty to Britt, a loyalty that began when Britt saved his life from a native uprising when they first met in Africa."A toast," said Scanlon, "To the end of the Green Hornet. May his retirement be a permanent one, and may he find the happiness that he so richly deserves.""Here, here," said Casey.They touched glasses and all took a long, slow drink."I almost can't believe you're retiring, Britt," said Scanlon, "After all, crime never goes away. If it did, the Sentinel wouldn't have anything to report but Rose festivals."Britt chuckled. "I became the Green Hornet for a specific reason—to put an end to the crime syndicates that were running roughshod over the city. The police were trying…at least the honest cops were…but it took someone infiltrating the mobs and getting the goods on them from the inside to bring them down. Now that the mobs have, for the most part, been put away, the need for the Green Hornet is fading away as well.""I, for one, am more than glad," said Casey, "As proud as I've always been of you, Britt, I've always been terrified that your luck was going to run out. Anyone that fights crime by pretending to be a gangster is living on borrowed time, if you ask me. I mean, you were wanted by both the mob and the police! It's just good that you didn't intend to go on fighting crime forever like that nutcase in Gotham.""But are you going to miss it, boss?" asked Kato, "The danger and intrigue, I mean?""No," said Britt, "I will miss fighting alongside you, my brother in combat. We did make a magnificent team."Kato smiled. During Britt's travels in the Orient, he had saved Kato's life from a Chinese native trying to kill him. Kato had instantly sworn allegiance to Britt, had returned to America as his valet, and had been his right hand man during his war on crime. He had also been the scientific genius behind the Green Hornet's gadgets."I'm sure he's also going to miss riding in the Black Beauty," muttered Scanlon, "That car was one sweet ride!"Everybody laughed."As exciting as battling crooks has been," said Britt, "I'm looking forward to something even more exciting."Casey grinned. "So just being the owner of the Sentinel is going to be enough excitement for you?" Britt smiled. "I was referring to something a little more exciting than a career." Casey shook her head and took a sip of her drink. "Now what could rival the excitement of going up against the mob while being chased by the police?"Something hard hit Casey's teeth and she lowered her glass, frowning. There at the bottom of her glass was a large, diamond engagement ring. Britt took the glass from her shaking hands and pulled the engagement ring out of the glass."The answer to your question," said Britt, "Will depend on how you answer my question.""Britt…"Britt took her hand in his. Then he knelt on the floor. Casey was trembling as she held his hand."Casey," said Britt, "I've been in love with you since the moment I first met you. I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I've been afraid to. I was afraid that, if I was ever unmasked as the Green Hornet, my enemies would try to get at me through you. But, now that I've hung up my mask and trench coat, I want you to make my life complete. Will you make me the world's happiest man by marrying me?"Tears streaming down her face, she nodded and threw her arms around him. Scanlon and Kato cheered as Britt placed the ring on her finger. Then Casey yanked him to his feet and gave him a long, lingering kiss."It's about time!" shouted Kato."I agree," said Casey, "You missed out on a sure bet, darling. Considering I knew from the beginning that you were the Green Hornet, we could have been dating this whole time and you wouldn't have had to make up an excuse to me about where you were when you were infiltrating the mob! I even covered for you at the office when you had to be away!"Britt smiled. "Believe me, I wanted to. But with the enemies I made as the Green Hornet, if I had ever been unmasked, anyone that knew my secret would have gone done with me. I could destroy any evidence showing that Frank knew my secret, but no one would have believed that my girlfriend wasn't in on it.""I would have admitted the truth if it had come to that," said Scanlon."And I would have denied it," said Britt."Thankfully, it didn't come to that," said Casey.Kato smiled and put a record on the record player. The sounds of a slow, romantic waltz filled the room. Britt rose and helped Casey to her feet. The couple danced slowly around the floor as Kato and Scanlon watched.It was great, reflected Kato, to see Britt happy. The two had been the closest of friends since that time in Africa. Although he was officially in Britt's employee, the two had considered themselves brothers since their harrowing flight from Africa back to America. The phone rang, interrupting Kato's train of thought. Scanlon got it on the second ring."District Attorney Scanlon's residence," said Frank.Kato watched as his friend listened on the phone. Then he saw the color drain out from Frank's face. Frank's lip trembled and he didn't so much sit as he did fall into his chair."Please don't hurt my daughter!" pleaded Frank.Britt and Casey looked at their friend, alarmed. They rushed over to Scanlon and stood over him."Speaker," mouthed Britt silently.Frank nodded and switched the speaker on."It's been a long time," they heard a voice, "Almost a year…a year of suffering and sweating. An entire year as appeal after appeal was denied.""My daughter has nothing to do with this!" insisted Frank, "Please, let her go! She can't hurt you!""No," agreed the voice, "But her death will certainly hurt you! A year ago, a judge told me just how long I had to live. The day of my execution was penciled in on a calendar. The law showed me that there was nothing I could do to halt it…until I escaped that is. All this time, I've sweated and squirmed as the day of my death came closer. That same sense of dread is just what I have planned for you, Mr. District Attorney.""Please," begged Frank, "It's me you want, not Wendy! I'll trade you…my life for hers!"The sound of sick, maniacal laughter came through the speaker. In spite of herself, a chill wormed its way down Casey's spine."I treasure the sound of your begging," said the voice, "But it won't do you any more good than it did for me. Frank Scanlon, you have been found guilty of persecuting a true genius who was only guilty of pursuing his hobby. You are hereby sentenced to lose the person closest to you. Therefore, your daughter Wendy Scanlon is condemned to die. In exactly twenty-four hours, your daughter will hang by the neck until dead!"Casey's hands flew to her mouth. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked at their friend. He was a man that looked positively broken. He had lost his wife not long ago, and Wendy had been his entire world since that time. The thought that she was in the hands of a madman and there wasn't anything he could do to help…"Look," said Frank, "Please! Let me talk to her! Let me…"The line went dead. For several seconds, Frank looked frantically at the phone. Trembling, he wiped his brow with his handkerchief."Frank," said Britt, "Who was that man?""More of a monster than a man," snarled Frank, "His name is Kyle Hendricks. But the world knows him by another name.""I remember running articles about his trial," muttered Britt, "He called himself the Hangman."Frank nodded. "He was obsessed with an old short story called The Most Dangerous Game, and he wanted to personally bring that story to life, with him as the mad hunter."Casey blinked. "Isn't that the story about a mad hunter who lured people to his island just so he could hunt them down and kill them?""Yes," said Frank, "Hendricks was a photographer by trade. He would lure young women to his studio with promises of a big modeling career. Then he would slip a sleeping pill into their drink and take them out to a deserted area outside the city. He would stalk them, giving them a short head start. When he found them, he would tie them up. Then he'd kill them by hanging them from a tree.""Oh dear heavens!" exclaimed Casey.Frank punched the wall, leaving a large hole in the drywall. "That monster has my daughter!" shouted Frank, "He's given us a deadline and I don't even know where to begin looking! He's going to hang my daughter!""But you do have resources," said Britt, "You have the police, and you've got us. Remember, the Sentinel has a television station as well as the newspaper. Plus, you have a friend who likes to dress up in green and ride around in a fast car."Casey nodded. "Britt, it looks like the Green Hornet needs to postpone his retirement for a little while.""Where can I start?" asked Frank."Find out how Hendricks escaped prison," said Britt, "Someone had to help him escape. Let us know the second you have something. I'm going to call Mike Axford, and he'll get everything ready in the studio. Come on, Casey. Kato, let's roll!"
The all-points bulletin was out within an hour. Scanlon personally raked the prison warden over the coals while Britt ran everything that was known about the Hangman on the Sentinel's television studio. Every police officer in the city made the Hangman case their number-one priority-checking every known area the Hangman had worked, especially his old hunting grounds. But none of it did any good. The Hangman could literally be anywhere. By the end of the second hour, Casey called Britt into his office. Her pale face told him all he needed to know. "Still nothing?" asked Britt. "Frank's beside himself," said Casey, "I've called him on your special line. Every officer in the state is looking for Wendy, but they…" A loud beeping noise caught their attention. Britt's phone lit up, alerting him of a call coming in on his private line. There was no need to wonder who it was; only one person besides Casey and Kato had that number. Britt quickly picked it up and put it on speaker. "Talk to me, Frank," said Britt, "Give me some good news." "I know how the Hangman escaped," growled Scanlon, "One of the guards—Walter Prescott is his name—was assigned to guard the prisoners on death row. Prescott had a serious gambling problem; he owed his shirt to his bookie. If he lived ten lifetimes, he'd never pay off his debts. His bookie has a reputation for collecting debts out of a client's hide if the debt wasn't paid. Interestingly enough, the debt was paid in full just a few hours after the Hangman escaped." "My, my, my," said Casey, "What an interesting coincidence." "I don't believe in coincidences," said Scanlon, "I could have given this information to some of my detectives. But, the man would probably just lawyer up and stall. We don't have time to waste, my friend." Britt smiled grimly. "I think it's time for the Green Hornet to strike again. What's Prescott's address?"
In most ways, Britt Reid's home resembled the home of any other successful businessman. There was a fireplace, bookshelves, and modern paintings decorating the walls. Anyone looking at his living room would think there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But looks can be deceiving. Britt reached up to his bookshelf and pulled out three specific books. Instantly, his fireplace slid upwards, revealing a hidden elevator. Britt hurried into the elevator as the fireplace slid shut. In five seconds, the elevator doors opened, revealing a garage. The garage looked like any other garage. Britt's car was surrounded by a crowded tool shelf. Kato was already at work, applying clamps to the axels of the car. Flipping a switch on the wall, the entire garage was engulfed in green lights. Flipping another switch, the floor under the car began tilting. In less than a second, the floor rotated. Britt Reid's car disappeared under the floor while the rotating floor revealed a second car. The second car was a dark black Chrysler Crown Imperial. The license plate showed a three digit number: VH1. The headlights were a dark green. To the police, the car was simply known as the car of the Green Hornet. To Britt, Kato, Casey, and Scanlon, it was known affectionately as Black Beauty. Britt reached into the back seat of Black Beauty and pulled out a green trench-coat. Donning it, he pulled out a green mask and green felt fedora. Donning a pair of gloves, Britt said, "We've got an address, Kato; Walter Prescott on 1024 Maldene Avenue." Kato nodded as he adjusted his own mask. "As soon as Miss Case joins us, we'll be off." Britt paused, his hand on the door. "Since when is Casey joining us?" "Since now," said a voice behind them. Britt looked. The elevator doors had opened, and Casey stepped into the garage. But it was a different Casey than either of them had ever seen. Her blonde hair was covered in a red wig. She had a green mask of her own and a green, skin-tight jump suit. "If you can be the Green Hornet," said Casey, "I can be the Queen Bee." Britt blinked. "'Queen Bee'? Kato, you knew about this?" Kato shrugged. "Don't ask me. I just work here." "Honey, we have a time limit," said Casey, "Frank's daughter will die horribly if we don't find her in time. You need all the help you can get." "But—" "After all this time," continued Casey, "I know how you operate and about your weapons. While you were running bulletins on the studio earlier, Kato even made me a gas gun like yours, as well as my very own Hornet's Sting. He even taught me martial arts." Britt looked sharply at Kato. "Oh, he did?!" Kato blushed. "Now," said Casey, "We can either stand here arguing, or we can work together to help Frank recover his daughter." Kato gently pulled Britt to the side. "Britt," said Kato, "My father once gave me some words of wisdom in dealing with a wife, girlfriend, or fiancée." "Kato…" "He said," continued Kato, "That from time to time a man and his woman will not see eye to eye. When those unfortunate events occur, a wise man will find that his marriage will be long and happy if he learns two little words and practices them." "What two words are those?" "'Yes, dear,'" said Kato, "This would be a really good time to practice those words with Miss Casey." Britt sighed. "Very well. Queen Bee, welcome aboard." Casey squealed with delight, threw her arms around Britt and kissed him. "See what I mean, Britt?" said Kato, "Remember those words and take them to heart." Britt smiled ruefully. He opened the rear passenger door for Casey. She nodded as he closed the door and then got in on the other side. Kato took his usual spot behind the wheel of Black Beauty as everyone buckled their seatbelts. "Now," said Queen Bee, "I'm going to say something I've been wanting to say for a long time. Let's roll, Kato!" Kato gunned the engine as Black Beauty roared to life. The garage was filled with a loud buzzing noise as the engine started. The buzzing of the car was one of the calling cards of the Green Hornet. It sounded exactly like the real, and vicious, green hornets that Kato and Britt had seen in Africa, the hornets that inspired Britt to adopt the name in his war on crime. The hidden doors to the garage slid open as Black Beauty streaked forward with the speed of a jet engine. Casey looked back as the doors to the garage-hidden behind the wall housing a huge soda advertisement—slid shut. Casey looked at the speedometer. She had known that Black Beauty was fast, but the car had gone from zero to two-hundred in less than ten seconds! She felt a rush unlike anything she had ever felt before. If the circumstances hadn't been so serious, she would have thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. Just a little while ago, thought Casey, Britt said that being married to be would be even more exciting than this! He deserves an extra smooch for that! "We better go on silent running," said Britt, "We don't want to alert Mr. Prescott." Kato nodded and flipped a switch. Instantly, the buzzing stopped. Black Beauty raced through the streets in complete silence. "What's the plan, darling?" asked Casey. "We have to get Prescott to admit where he got the money for his gambling debt," said Britt, "We need to know how he got it, and where. Just follow my lead and use your instincts." Casey frowned. "You're not mad at my insisting on coming along, are you?" Britt smiled and slid his arm around Casey's shoulders. "No. You're as concerned about Frank's daughter as we are. A man just likes to protect his loved ones, that's all." Kato smiled as he heard the two share a kiss. Britt certainly took my advice to heart.
Walter Prescott threw a stack of clothes into a large suitcase and slammed the lid shut. At least he tried to shut the lid. The clothes were so rumpled and wadded that closing the lid was all but impossible. He slammed the lid again, to no avail. Then he tried setting on it. The suitcase practically laughed at his efforts. Three inches of wadded up clothing prevented it from closing."Come on," Prescott begged, "Come on!"At thirty, Walter Prescott thought he had life all figured out. He had a good, secure job at the state prison. A tall, thin man, Prescott relied heavily on the sidearm and night-stick that were his constant companions at the prison. He had no wife to tell him what to do. All he had to do was fill his time as a prison guard, and then he could go play. He had been proud of the fact that, with no one to hold him accountable, he could do any little thing his heart desired. Usually what his heart desired were women, gambling, and booze. The problem was, his entertainment cost a lot more than what his paycheck brought in. A lot more. He loved gambling, but he gambled poorly. Before he knew what was going on, he was up to his eyebrows in debt to his bookie, Joe Corello. And Corello was not known for his forgiving heart. He was known, however, for his enforcers. Corello's enforcers were suspected in the disappearances of over forty people who owed Corello more than they could pay, but nothing had—as of yet—been proved.Desperate times call for desperate measures. Owing a six-figure debt to Joe Corello—that he only had twenty-four hours to pay—can make a man incredibly desperate. With the deadline rapidly approaching, Prescott had been desperate enough to make a deal with the worst possible devil.With a snarl of frustration, Prescott pulled a few shirts out of his suitcase and—finally!—got the fool thing shut. He picked it up by the handle…and the lid opened up. All of the suitcase's contents spilled out on the floor.Prescott threw his suitcase on the floor in frustration, and started picking up his clothes. He had to get out of town! The cops wouldn't have any trouble putting 2 and 2 together as to how Hendricks and busted loose from prison, and with the DA's daughter kidnapped by Hendricks, anyone close to Hendricks was going down.Prescott threw the clothes back into his suitcase and clamped it shut. He hated the thought that he was about to flee the three bedroom house he had called his own for five years. But it beat being-Just as he was reaching the front door, he heard a loud humming. Was it his imagination, or was the door shimmering? The humming was getting louder, and louder. The louder it got, the more the door shook. Instinctively, Prescott took a step back.That was when the door burst open. No, it didn't just open. It flew apart in splinters. The color drained from Prescott's face as two masked men stepped into the room. One of the men was of medium size, dressed in a dark chauffer's uniform. The upper half of his face was obscured in a dark mask. The second man wore a green trench-coat, green mask, and green felt fedora. He held a long, metal cane in his gloved hands. "The Green Hornet!" gasped Prescott. "Knock, knock," said the Green Hornet.Prescott reached under his coat. But before he could pull out his revolver, Kato made a flick of his wrist. Prescott screamed as white, hot agony engulfed his arm. He looked and saw a dart sticking out of his arm. The shaft of the dart was green and had the vague shape of a hornet.Prescott cried out and bolted from the room. He reached the kitchen and reached for the back door. He didn't hear the loud humming until he was nearly at the door. Before his very eyes, the back door shook and then imploded inward. The force of the blast threw Prescott to the ground.Prescott scrambled to his feet. Before him stood a beautiful red-head dressed all in green. Like the Hornet, her face was covered in a green mask. Prescott stared at her, his mouth hanging open."Goodness me," said the woman, "I must have knocked on the door too hard."The woman kept the Hornet's sting aimed at him. Kato stood behind him, another dart in his gloved hands. The Green Hornet had his gas gun leveled right at him. "Since when does the Green Hornet have a girlfriend?" snarled Prescott."Since I wised up," chuckled the Hornet, "Say hello to the Queen Bee. And when you're done saying 'hello,' you're going to be saying a lot more.""I've got nothing to say!" snarled Prescott. Queen Bee smiled wickedly. Then she held the business end of the Hornet Sting right under Prescott's chin."You know, darling," said Queen Bee, "There's one thing I've often wondered about this Hornet's Sting of yours. It did great at shattering this door, but I'm curious as to what this can do to the human body."Prescott swallowed hard."Considering that I've used it to open doors made out of solid steel," said the Green Hornet, "I think it will make quite an impression on flesh and bone.""I think I'll start with his feet and work my way upward," said Queen Bee, "that way he can still tell us what we want to know."The color drained out of Prescott's face. The Green Hornet had been a mysterious figure in Chicago for the last few years. No one knew who he was, but he had his hand in every syndicate known. Every time a crime family went down, it was whispered that the Green Hornet brought them down so he could take over. The fact that both the mobs and the police had been unsuccessful in bringing down the Hornet only added to the fear that people had of him. Carrying around weapons that were right out of a science-fiction movie didn't do much to ease Prescott's mind."Now that you mention it," stammered Prescott, "I have had a lot on my conscience lately, and they say that confession is good for the soul." "That's good," said the Hornet, "Real good, because we've got a lot to talk about."