Wrath of Khan.
Chapter 1
In a large room on the top floor of a skyscraper in New York, a huge man in a white suit looked out an enormous window at the city.
Looking at him you wouldn't think that he was the biggest crime lord in history, but he was. He was the Kingpin. This man ran all the organised crime in the world. Whatever he wanted he got. But lately something had started putting a dent in his empire. His sub-bosses, whom he had put in charge of some of the overseas empires, began to question his ability to lead. This displeased him. And when he was angry, heads rolled. Literally. Fortunately, he was not angry yet.
And so, he had called his sub-bosses together.
***
Kuba Khan walked into the room, his personal guards spread invisibly though the lobby, along with whatever entourages the other sub-bosses had brought with them. Khan was not pleased. He knew the scope of the Kingpin's network and allowed himself to be a part of it only so that his own influence could spread out into the entire Asian underworld but he as well as many of the other insufferably arrogant men around him did, he hated the fat blowhard that was the self proclaimed ruler of the entire covert world.
But khan had been taught patience and subtlety, and knew his skills well. So when Fisk had summoned him, he willingly came. His second in command Shan Ruche could handle the collection of weaponry back at Sinking.
Soon. He promised himself.
As the elevator doors opened into Kingpin's office, and the huge New York skyline became obvious, Khan shuddered. He hadn't seen this city since he was fifteen years old, and he hated it. His father had been murdered here…
"Please, sit down." The Kingpin ordered, and as everyone did, a huge view screen lowered.
***
They sat around a huge antique wooden conference table. Kingpin signalled his man, and a video started to play on the screen. The video showed the object of this meeting. Two men were fighting back to back. They were fighting a tidal wave of opponents, they were outnumbered 40 to 2 and they weren't even working up a sweat. One was wearing a full body suit of blue and red with a full-face mask having eye lenses, and silver bracelets (known as web-shooters). The other wore a black suit and gloves, a black slouch hat and a black cloak with a red lining. His face masked with a red scarf.
Both of them were moving faster than the eye could follow, making mincemeat of some of the Underworld's prizefighters. Kingpin knew this; he had sent them after the 2 heroes. The tape ended. The film was replaced with a close up shot of the 2 men's masked faces. The Kingpin was about to speak when one of his sub-bosses, the one in charge of his workings in the Orient, Kingpin believed, leapt to his feet and hissed the words:
"Ying Ko! He lives!"
Khan spun and started out of the room.
"Khan" bellowed The Kingpin, "Where are you going?"
Khan turned back to the table and hissed, too mad with rage to think of silence and secrets, "To destroy Ying Ko. The Shadow has been the archenemy of my family for the LAST 7 DECADES. I will be the one of my lineage to finally defeat him, and END The Shadow dynasty!"
"You will not do a thing as long as you work for me."
Khan was more than willing to leap across the room and tear apart the man who dared defy Temijin's heir. But the Kingpin had various guards, all of them armed. Now was not the time. "Then I will not work for you anymore." Khan said, settling for that. "And when I have killed the man who stands between the world and I, then I will take the world and rule from the hidden empire of Sinking. What you in the west call Xanadu."
And with that Khan was gone. The Kingpin had lost control of all the Far East. He was starting, just starting, to become angry now.
Khan was already in the elevator, focusing his mind, calling his second in command on the wind. Shan…come to New York. Ying Ko lives!
Chapter 2
A few days later…Sitting in his Sanctum, Stephen Cranston/The Shadow had no idea of the challenge ahead. He was changing, from ordinary casual clothes to clothes for an unusual nightlife. When he was done he was wearing a black cloak and slouch hat. A red handkerchief masked his face, which had altered subtly so that he could not be recognised. After he finished transforming, he reached into the equipment locker. He pulled out his disguise make-up, which allowed him to change his appearance profoundly, and then his weapon holsters. Leaving the Sanctum, he wished that his partner Spiderman were here, instead of covering the bushfires in Australia.
But… he supposed that it was about time he got to work on his own. The mysterious masked man. He smiled beneath his mask; it would be just like the old days. A hollow, whispered laugh echoed through the now empty Sanctum.
***
"So that's where we stand on the Safford case commissioner." Finished a policeman.
The head of police in New York looked over the files. It was a collection of orders with signatures, financial reports, shipping receipts and letterheads. It looked like a clear-cut case of embezzlement.
Still, something bothered the Commissioner. "One thing I don't get… He wasn't stealing money. He was altering shipments of munitions. Do we know where the surplus was being sent yet?" he asked, as the janitor wandered in with his mop.
"Nope, Safford still wont talk. He just keeps repeating that he did not do anything and that he could no remember where he was at the time."
"Well we have all the evidence we need to convict him. Heck, we have him on video committing the crime. Let's get the rest of this in the morning, we'll put the paperwork through then."
The policeman nodded and turned to the janitor. "Fritz, will you clean this up? You know where everything goes."
"Yah." Said the stooped man in overalls, waving his mop back and forth over the floor.
"Another late night Fritz? Good man." Smiled the Chief, already thinking of his warm bed at home.
"Yah" mumbled the janitor again.
The 2 officers left the room. Neither of them saw the strange, fantastic shadow extending from the janitor.
After they had left, Fritz straightened up and looked through the papers. His eyes gleamed and he put them away, the information they held copied quickly onto some blank papers that Fritz had. That done, his eyes burned toward a video also included in the file. He could not watch it here. He found the ID number written on the side of the tape. 1276-23.
Leaving the office, he continued to shuffle down the hallway toward the archive room. A few officials passed him but barely glanced at the janitor.
"There is nothing as invisible as a man with a mop," thought the man to himself.
Reaching the archive room, he slipped a skeleton key out from his sleeve. Once inside he started toward the visual archives and searched for a specific video file. 1276-23.
It took the janitor less than a minute to find a file with 3 copies of the tape to be used as evidence; also in the file was the identification paperwork for these videos. Taking the papers for one of the videos and putting them into his pocket, he took a video with him and left the archive room.
His work for the night finished, Fritz was wandering down the dark, empty hallways, still trailing his mop. Coming to the janitor's office he pulled a regular key from a pocket in his overalls. Entering the small room he put his mop away and started to change. The overalls peeled away to reveal a dark set of clothing. Opening the small locker, he pulled a cape and slouch hat. Rubbing at his face with a damp cloth the soft and harmless face of Fritz melted away to reveal an intense profile with a hawkish look and burning eyes. Donning the hat and cloak he chuckled softly. Checking he had the video and papers with him, he lifted the window slightly and slipped out. Striding through a dark alleyway, the man vanished into the darkness. A whispered laugh echoed behind him.
It was the laugh of The Shadow!
Chapter 3
Khan sat in his own Sanctum and began to contemplate the inevitable confrontation. He had already started to put his plans for global conquest onto effect. Kingpin's focus would be on The Shadow also, but now that khan had openly defied the crimelord, the Kingpin would now be trying to recapture his holdings.
Khan put that out of his mind. The Shadow. That was the main danger! Khan was preparing getting ready to strike openly, the goal of every Khna since Genghis fell. The Shadow would no doubt try to stop him. He thought carefully about everything that he knew about The Shadow. The original shadow was named Lamont Cranston, a wealthy man living in New York. Shiwan Khan (his grandfather) had tried to take the world by being the first to invent an atomic weapon. The Shadow had defeated him and locked him in an asylum where he had lived out his life in a padded cell. Shiwan's son had immediately sworn a blood oath against The Shadow. The son of Cranston had become The Shadow when the original was too old.
Khan thought back. His father had planned to infect the States with a smallpox virus, planning to release it from the Statue of Liberty. Kuba had gone along to watch, his training only half completed. His father had told him to get somewhere safe, when the Shadow appeared. As the two of them fought, Kuba had tried to find a way to help his father, when another person no older than Khan was at the time tried to stop him. Who was that kid? All his life khan was convinced that it was just some foolish bystander.
Could it have been the second Shadow's son?
Whoever it was, he had the ability to cloud the minds of men. That made him as formidable as his predecessors. Khan decided on his strategy. He would continue his plans for world domination and if The Shadow tried to stop him, and Khan was sure he would, then he would have to be eliminated.
But before that…
Entering a room that adjoined the sanctum, Khan seated himself in a large elaborate chair and turned on a mini-display. The display was a small replica of the city lights. Specifically, it duplicated the exact view of a moving, lit up sign from a particular office. The continuos, repeating pattern of the lights was vaguely hypnotic, a factor that Khan needed for distance control. Fixing his gaze upon the model, he stretched out with his mind toward a particular man.
"Charles Carson," murmured Khan.
***
Mr. Charles Carson was sitting at his desk. He had just put some corporate acquirement papers away, and had a splitting headache from working a late night again. "Who would have thought that the airplane business was so exhausting?" he said to the empty room. He needed a break. A moment ago he actually thought he had heard someone saying his name. But the room was empty. Minor hallucinations were a clear sign of being overtired. He went to the small cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of scotch. Pouring himself a drink he loosened his tie and sat in his recliner, gazing out the window.
His mind emptied at the monotonous repeating pattern of the lights across from his office window. He sat, the cold drink forgotten in his hand, the reflection of the lights, playing of his face, again and again.
"Charles Carson" said a voice.
Carson did not react at all, except to say the words, "Yes my Khan,"
The voice gave him instructions, Carson didn't move throughout the whole speech. When the strange voice ceased, he simply stood and moved to the desk.
Slowly he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the desk drawer. Pulling out some papers, he reached toward the far side of the desk for some whiteout and a pen. Altering the requisition forms to triple the number of jet fighters, and then to send the extra to another destination, he signed the papers and put them into an envelope.
The plane manufacturers would be thrilled that they could make more money from their production. The military would not notice because they would receive their aircraft on schedule.
Working mechanically he stood up and left the building, moved down the road he posted that letter.
Returning to his room he re-seated himself in his chair and stared back out at those lights. A sound reached his ears, a simple gong sound. As that sound hit him, the curtains vibrated and Carson woke up. Rubbing his eyes against a splitting headache he found that the glass of scotch was spilled. He could not remember dropping it. Rubbing his eyes harder he went about the task of cleaning up the spill. As he worked he realised that the ice had melted completely. Turning to the clock he found that 20 minutes had indeed passed. Shaking his head and deciding that he must have fallen asleep briefly, he left his office and went home.
***
Back in the Sanctum of crime, Khan allowed himself a small smile. Everything was going according to his plan. Now it was time to announce his presence to The Shadow. If he knew Ying Ko, then The Shadow would already be onto his plan.
Chapter 4
At his condo, Stephen was watching the tape he had borrowed from the police. On the screen, Safford was looking out the window. His eyes were glazed, his mouth was not visible but by watching his throat Stephen could see that his Jaw muscles were moving. Was he talking to himself?
Safford stood up and wandered over to his desk. He wrote on some papers and then signed his name. Stephen paused the tape at that point. Safford was not looking down at the paper. Stephen pulled over his own paper and tried to write his signature without looking. He tried a dozen times and failed miserably. Yet Safford did it. Running the tape again, Safford stood and mailed the papers.
Stephen stopped the tape, and looked at the copies of the evidence papers he had made. Safford had changed the order of munitions, and sent the surplus of bombs and missiles to a new location. The second paper was a report from the Internal Affairs office. I.A. had noticed that the amounts were wrong on the requisitions, and sent an auditor who had found out what had happened. Safford was arrested for embezzlement and fraud.
Something wasn't right. He was stealing bombs and missiles. The kind of weaponry that was useless without an aircraft. And why did he not even look at what he was doing? It was like he was in a trance. A trance. Something about this seemed familiar. But he could not place where. "Okay," he said aloud, putting his thoughts to words. "Assuming that Safford had a reason for stealing bombs, and so many of them, what would the reason be? Someone was paying him to do it? Okay, assuming there was a buyer for the munitions, he would need aircraft to use them." Stephen checked the copies again. The bombs and missiles would need a compatible aircraft to be useful. American military aircraft. "Where would they get those?" Even as he said it, Stephen snapped his fingers; there was an aircraft production factory just a mile from New York. Now, how could he find out if extra aircraft had been made? "The same way that the authorities found out about the munitions. The I.A."
Stephen summoned his driver and headed outside. By the time he got there Moe was waiting with his cab.
"Moe," he said, getting into the cab. "The military Internal Affairs have an office for the west coast is as the Federal building right?"
Moe knew this as well as his sinister master. "Yeah boss."
"Let's go Shrevvy."
Moe knew that tone. He gunned the engine and the cab took off.
Daring to look at the backseat in the mirror, he saw Stephen open a hidden compartment under the seat. Out came the black cloak and hat. Putting them on he slapped full magazines into his automatics. The snap of the jerked cloak sounded like quiet thunder.
Spooked, Moe grimaced and gunned the engine again.
A whispered laugh trailed the cab into the night.
Chapter 5
At the federal building, Khan's finest Mongol warrior, Shan Ruche, stood watching as the man before him worked. The name of the entranced man was Alan Bides. He was in charge of auditing military accounts. Ruche had been dispatched to take Bides from his home to his office so that he could write a report for his Khan and then arrange final shipments. The phone rang and Alan automatically picked it up under Khan's control.
"Yes my Khan," said the man mechanically.
The voice of the Tibetan gave a series of numbers. Bides wrote them on a pad with an antique dip pen and blotter without looking. He hung up the phone and copied the numbers from the pad to the shipping forms. Shan Ruche was always awed at the mastery of Khan over these simple-minded weaklings. Bides stood and put the audit reports into the correct folder, then the shipping papers into an envelope. Bides walked out of the room. Ruche stayed behind to sample some of the American bourbon that Alan had hidden in a small flask in his desk. He was not needed anymore tonight. His task was simply to transport the barely human slaves of Khan to where they were necessary and then let them get home themselves. He had done his duty for tonight.
He was so enjoying the bourbon that he did not see the swift coil of black that ran across the wall. He did notice however, the sinister laughter that came from everywhere at once. Shan immediately drew his blade. He knew that laugh. He had been warned about it. He was told to be ready for the demon that it announced.
It was the laugh of The Shadow!
Shan Ruche leapt toward the light switch and turned on the lights. The light quickly exposed The Shadow.
"Ying Ko," Snarled the Mongol in triumph. Ruche raised his knife and leapt toward his dark enemy, only to find that The Shadow was more than willing to meet him halfway.
The 2 combatants met in the centre of the room. Battling for the knife between them, both threw several punches. The close proximity stopped them from being very forceful, but they served to throw each other off balance. Ruche roared in anger and slashed, cloth tore under the blade and The Shadow felt his left arm burn. Ruche was VERY dangerous at close range, knowing that he was at a disadvantage; The Shadow jumped as far back as he could and drew an automatic. Two explosions of noise filled the room. The first blast shattered the knife in his opponent's hand. The second put out the lights. In the sudden darkness, the mocking laughter rang out. Knowing that he could no longer win, Shan Ruche ran for the door. But the darkness was all over him! Reeling under the hammer blows of The Shadow, Ruche quickly succumbed to unconsciousness.
Checking to see that the Mongol really was out cold, and rubbing his wounded arm, the final piece fell into place. Khan was back! A Mongol warrior, the words 'Ying Ko' and men doing odd things without apparent thought. They all pointed to the same thing. Khan.
The Shadow remembered the last time he had heard of a Khan in New York.
***
"Okay" his uncle whispered from within the hat and cloak, "There he is. Do not get involved. You aren't ready."
"Yes uncle." Stephen said himself cloaked behind an ordinary ski mask.
His uncle swirled away into the dark.
Stephen shivered. How did he do that? When will I be able to learn that trick?
Moments later, the fight began. Stephen was almost mesmerised by it. It was truly a clash of Titans.
Movement caught his gaze; Stephen slipped into a dark corner and froze, knowing that the ordinary darkness would cloak him, even without invisibility.
Not even noticing him, a boy Stephen's age hurried to the fight, he was wearing Mongol armour.
Gasping at the apparent reinforcements heading to fight his uncle, Stephen leaped, tackling the boy.
The two wrestled viciously for a moment.
For a sudden endless moment their eyes locked.
And Stephen knew he had met the enemy.
A moment later, fear gave way to anger. "You don't scare me!"
***
The Shadow was immediately filled with rage. The Khans kept coming back. Why didn't they just get the message? He would have to be destroyed. The Shadow was shaking with rage at this monster that used innocents as his tools. The only question now, was where he was.
The Shadow turned to the desk. He had arrived in time to see where Bides had put the papers. Pulling out that file he quickly scanned through it. Sure enough, it was an audit report. It stated that there was no embezzlement or discrepancy in the aircraft accounts. Just to be sure, The Shadow also pulled out the requisition reports and did the math himself.
"Wait," thought The Shadow, "That can't be right."
According to the numbers, 3 times the required amount of aircraft had been ordered. So now The Shadow knew Khan's plan. He was raising a strike force. The munitions and aircraft were proof of that. He would rule from Xanadu, the underground base of operations for every Khan singe Genghis Khan, situated between Tibet and Mongolia. Now all The Shadow needed to know was where the shipments were going, and where Khan was.
A sound behind him, The Shadow turned swiftly, Shan Ruche was awake and leaping toward him. The Shadow easily caught him and put him in a martial arts grip and forced him to the floor.
"WHERE IS KHAN?" Bellowed The Shadow so loudly that the room shook.
"Waiting for the shipments." Whimpered Shan.
"WHERE ARE THEY GOING?" roared the voice of terror.
"I will not tell you." Said Ruche simply.
The Shadow knew that that was all he would get out of this soldier. Khan's minions were always strongly trained, both in mind and combat. This man was more afraid of Khan that of The Shadow. He would commit suicide before talking. Most likely, he did not know anything useful anyway.
Disgusted, The Shadow knocked him out again.
Turning to leave, The Shadow saw the notepad. It was series of numbers. The Shadow did not know what they meant but the ink from the antique pen was barely dry so they were written soon. That meant it had something to do with Khan. Snatching the pad and tearing the top page off, he looked at the numbers and left. The Shadow left the room; the unconscious man sprawled behind him.
Chapter 6
JFK airport was always busy. The only reason it managed to function at all was because the thousands of milling people had a vague idea of where they had to go.
Peter Parker/Spiderman was coming of the late flight from Australia. Glancing around the arrival terminal, his pack slung over his shoulder, (The 2 always-traveled light) he saw his partner calmly standing with his back to the wall. Peter smiled and went to meet his partner/friend.
***
Victor Cranston stirred from a light sleep in his chair, and noticed that all the lights were out. This was no problem for a man who had spent his entire adult life as a vigilante but he still saw it as odd.
***
"Welcome home." Stephen said flatly. "You must be tired from the flight."
"Exhausted." Peter said cautiously, noticing the dangerous glint in his partner's eye.
"Okay, you can sleep in the cab." Stephen said simply. "We have work to do."
Something had happened. Peter sighed. His vacation was over.
Wandering through the airport, the two men kept up the banter. Chatting about Peter's vacation, the weather in Australia and other meaningless things.
An empty cab pulled up just as they left the airport. People waiting would have killed for luck like that. Behind the wheel was of course, Moe Shrevnitz.
"Drive," commanded Stephen.
The cab took off.
"So," said Peter calmly. "Are you gonna tell me what's happened?"
Stephen nodded slowly and took a breath. By the time the cab had reached downtown NY, Peter knew everything. He also knew why Stephen was as angry as he was. Fire and water, Snake and Mongoose, Khans and The Shadows.
***
Victor got up, and was about to call for his butler, when an invisible force threw him hard to the chair.
Victor gasped, and focused his mind. "Who are you?"
"You can't tell?" mocked an angry voice. "Of course you cant. You're far too arrogant in your power, and your wealth to need to know anything you don't care about. To even notice the lives you destroy with a movement as small as your own trigger finger."
Victor gasped again. Khan!
"Right!" answered the voice, as the man resolved into visibility, just inches away. "You aren't as old and senile as I thought you were."
***
"The only clue I have now," finished Stephen, "Are these numbers." He handed that scrap of paper to the man next to him.
Peter clearly had no idea what they meant and neither did Stephen.
"What is 'Ying Ko'?" asked Peter. "You told me once, but I forgot what it meant literally."
"It means 'The Shadow' in Chinese."
***
"I can't tell you how many night's I've dreamed about this." Khan laughed, holding Victor against the wall by the throat. "How many ways I've thought up, of avenging my father."
"Really?" Victor said, with a bit of his Shadow mockery. "I haven't even given you a second thought."
With that the older man lashed out with both fists.
But Khan was a much younger and faster man. Both punches were blocked, and Victor was hurled across the room into the bookcase heavy hardcover books rained down on him.
Khan was on him in an instant.
***
"So what now?" asked Moe, who had been listening to the conversation.
"I don't know." Said Stephen. "But I'll bet every cent I have that it has something to do with these numbers."
For the next few minutes the three turned the problem over in their minds.
After a while Stephen noticed that Moe was taking the long way around town to The Sanctum. And his eyes were constantly returning to the rear-view mirror. "What is it Shrevvy?" he asked.
"That black and yellow," replied Moe, meaning as cab behind them. "It's been following us since we left the airport. I think we got a tail boss."
Stephen thought about this briefly. "Okay, let's take him on a tour of downtown. If he's still with us by Broadway, pull over and let us out."
Moe nodded and gunned the motor.
***
Victor tried calling out with his mind again, but khan was effectively blocking him.
"Well surprise Ying ko!" Khan hissed venomously. "Didn't your omniscience see this one coming?" He was holding Victor off the floor by his shirt lapels. Khan reached out with one hand and pulled a picture of Stephen off the wall. "This is him isn't it? The new player?"
Khan kicked Victor hard in the middle.
"Yes, he is." Khan continued. "I can see the resemblance. But you never married? Where'd he come from? Have too much fun with your secretary?" he taunted.
Victor's eyes flashed, and khan was suddenly sent across the room by a blast of power.
Returning to his feet easily khan laughed. "That's the spirit!" his voice suddenly turned low and evil. "But the only reason I haven't killed you yet, is so I could know. Where is it?"
Victor looked horrified.
***
The cab weaved up one street and down the other. This pattern repeated all the way to Broadway. It was a very slow and tedious route, but one that people very rarely use. For that reason, they knew that the cab must have been following them.
At Broadway, Moe's cab pulled over and the 2 men got out.
***
"Where is the phurba?" Roared Khan.
Victor's eyes flicked left before he could stop himself. It was a barest glance, but it was enough.
Khan slammed Victor again, hurling him hard against the mantelpiece, then went back to the bookcase, pulling out every book he could, until he discovered the hidden recess in the wall. Khan pulled out the locked metal strongbox and opened it.
And there, lying before him was the long golden blade, with a dragon-faced handle and the triangular point.
Victor was picking himself up off the floor.
Khan considered taking control of the blade, but realised he wasn't sure he could successfully. No. Now was not the time.
Khan slammed the strongbox shut, tucked it under his arm, then spun to the left as Victor started shooting, the gun pulled from one of no doubt dozens of hidden compartments.
Khan dove to avoid the bullets then drew a throwing knife and hurled it into Victor's stomach.
The older man let out an astonished breath, and slowly fell.
Khan stood over him victorious, and yanked out the blade. "Tell me…" he said, "Have you moved that sanctum of yours ONCE in the last century?"
Victor, blacking out, was further horrified still.
Khan closed his eyes, raising the blade high above his head. "And now…" he laughed. "For my father!"
"Stephen…" Victor's mind called weakly.
***
Calmly walking down the street, Stephen stopped mid-step. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Peter asked.
Shaking it off, Stephen glanced in the side-view mirror of a parked car. He could see nothing unusual behind them. The street was almost deserted.
"Maybe Moe was wrong." Said Stephen to his partner.
"No," replied Peter. "My spider-sense is tingling slightly. We are being followed."
Stephen nodded. The 2 men did not change their pace. They did nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly, a swishing sound passed between them. A long arrow was sticking from the wall beside them, still quivering. The men spun, ready to fight, but their attacker was already in a cab and pulling away. It turned into the main road.
"Can we get him?" asked Peter.
"No," said Stephen. "Over a million cabs go down that road every day, we would never find that one."
"Lucky he missed then."
Stephen laughed. "He wasn't trying to kill us. Mongol bowmen can hit a man 500 yards away while riding a horse at full gallop. He missed on purpose."
"Why?"
"Khan is playing games with us. That's fine, I love games. Never played a mind game yet that I haven't won."
The 2 men headed for the Sanctum.
Chapter 7
The men entered the Sanctum. Stephen was still thinking of the numbers when he heard his partner gasp. Turning, he saw what had surprised his partner. A knife was sticking in the nearest table. It was a long silver blade with a gold handle.
"More games," whispered Stephen.
Peter pulled the knife out of the table. It was holding down a note, he read it out.
"Ying Ko, I have the Phurba. Khan."
Peter turned to his partner. Stephen had gone rigid. Suddenly a mix of outrage and fear came to his face and he bolted up the stairs.
Peter had heard about what the Phurba was, but not where. So where did Khan get it?
Apparently his partner knew the answer to that question.
Stephen was standing on the side of the street impatiently. Peter saw his partner at the end of the alley and ran toward him. Tears were welling in Stephen's eyes. Moe pulled up soon enough. Stephen was in the car before it had finished moving. "Cranston Manor, and hurry! MOVE IT!" he yelled at the cabbie. Surprised and frightened, Moe hit the gas.
Peter had missed the cab. He had never seen his partner like this. It scared him. Where was he going? Well he knew that, he heard the address. But why? Peter headed down the alley and a moment later, Spiderman was web swinging toward the address that Moe had been given.
***
The cab screeched to a halt outside the huge billionaire's mansion. Stephen was out of the cab and running for the ambulance instantly.
Stephen shoved the doctors aside and saw his uncle lying on the gurney, his face covered by a mask, his skin deathly pale.
The doctor's clawed at Stephen but he fought them off. "Uncle? Talk to me!"
His uncle's eyes opened. "Stephen…he didn't get it."
Relief flooded Stephen's face. "He got the fake?"
Victor nodded. "I couldn't stop him…"
Stephen allowed himself to be pulled away. "Stay alive uncle. That's your mission now."
As the ambulance was pulling away, its siren blaring, Stephen went into the house, where the house staff was waiting, Andrew in the lead. "Master Cranston!"
"Andrew, who found him?" Stephen snapped without preamble.
"I did sir. I was tidying the downstairs kitchen; I didn't know anything was wrong till I had headed upstairs. When I found him I immediately called for an ambulance, and did my best to stabilise his condition."
"You did your job well Andrew. Now I must do mine. Lock this place down. Nobody gets in or out."
"Yes sir."
***
When Spiderman arrived, his partner was sitting across the street. He was clearly waiting for him.
Spiderman dove into the nearby bushes, and a few minutes later, Peter arrived. Stephen was not surprised.
"Who was in that ambulance?" asked his partner without preamble.
Stephen was equally direct. "My uncle. Stabbed through the side, and the stomach."
Peter was shocked. Granted Victor was getting older, but still, the man had been a Shadow in his youth. "How did you know?"
"After the first Shadow defeated Shiwan Khan, he captured the Phurba from him. He passed it on to his son. When Khan said that he had the Phurba, I knew the only way he could get it was…" he trailed off.
"Is he…?" Peter began to ask.
"He was starting a tumo when he left. He's been through worse. He will live." Said Stephen with finality.
"So now Khan has the Phurba."
The Shadow's mocking laugh rang out. "You think you keep something like that on your mantelpiece? Or in your bedroom at all for that matter? The real Phurba was hidden beneath a floorboard in the weapons storage. Khan has a simple copy. But he thinks it's the real thing. Now the real one?" he said looking at his partner for the first time, "That stays hidden. Khan will never find, let alone get the knife."
Peter nodded. "Back to the point, where is Khan now? And where are those shipments going?"
"I thought of that. These numbers. I've figured it out. They are map co-ordinates."
"That must be where the shipments are going. Where do the co-ordinates lead?"
"An airport. There is a cargo plane leaving for Tibet tonight."
"Let's go." Said Peter.
"You go. I'll meet you there."
Peter was a bit confused. One look at his partner told him to let it go. Peter headed off and Stephen went a few minutes later in the opposite direction.
It would take his partner only a few minutes to realise he'd been duped once he got to the airport. Plenty of time however for the Shadow to work. Stephen felt bad about lying to him, but Khan was an expert at thought manipulation, and Stephen had no interest in fighting his partner to the death for no reason but khan's amusement.
"Besides," Stephen thought. "This fight is personal!"
"Forgive me old friend." He whispered.
Stephen vanished into the darkness.
Chapter 8
Peter arrived at the JFK airport for the second time that night. He wandered up and down the terminals looking at destination view screens. London, Maui, Hawaii, Paris, Geneva. Not Tibet.
Finally he gave up and decided that the best way was just to ask, and went up to the information desk.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where the cargo plane to Tibet is?"
The woman looked at him confused and looked at her terminal. "I'm sorry sir, there is no plane to Tibet for a month. And that's a commercial passenger jet."
Peter thought that over and decided that Stephen had gotten the destinations wrong. He would have to tell his partner immediately. It was then that Peter realised that Stephen was nowhere to be found. It came to him then. He had been tricked.
"Damn you, Stephen." He muttered.
He had to find out where those co-ordinates really were.
Peter sprinted from the airport. He needed to find a map and then Stephen.
***
The Shadow looked from the top of a hill down toward the harbour. The Boat shed was sitting on pylons over the water. That was the real location given in the numbers. Vanishing from sight, he made his way toward the shed.
He entered the dark shed. It was fairly large. There were 2 small rooms on the top floor. The ground floor was one large bay with boxes piled high. Symbols made it clear what was in those crates. Explosives. The Shadow moved to the crates and fixed a small box to the side.
Several people came down the stairs. The Shadow froze in the darkest corner he could find. 10 Mongols were busily loading half the crates onto an elevator. The elevator, now fully loaded, slowly sank its way down through the floor to the water. The Mongols went down with it. Once down there they loaded the crates into a small speedboat. The shed was now empty. The boat with its deadly cargo powered toward a huge freighter just out of the harbour.
The Shadow could sense it. The Shed was empty, except for his enemy. This was the fight he was born for.
"Khan." Whispered The Shadow to the empty room.
***
Peter had found a Global Positioning System for sale in one of the numerous airport stalls. He was frantically punching in numbers from memory. The location came up on the screen. New York Harbor.
He sprinted for the door.
***
Khan was meditating in his Sanctum, the open box containing the Phurba before him. He was focusing his mind, preparing to take control of the blade, when suddenly the mocking laugh of his foe reached his ears.
Khan's eyes flew open and before him stood The Shadow.
And once again, for an endless moment, they just stared at each other.
Finally, Khan stood and walked to the center of the room. As he walked he spoke.
"Well Ying Ko, It seems you found me
"You're finished Khan." Said The Shadow.
"Ah but I have 2 cards yet to play. First, my shipment has already left," Khan, replied pointing out the window toward the freighter. "You can probably get to it, but if you try for it, I will escape. If you stay here to kill me, then I will become a martyr, and my army will take the world with those munitions."
The Shadow did not flinch. He merely raised his gloved fist. In it was a small transmitter with a single button.
Khan divined its purpose instantly.
"NOOOO!" he cried.
But it was too late; The Shadow hit the button and the enormous freighter exploded in a massive fireball that could be seen for a mile in every direction.
***
Spiderman had left the airport and was swinging madly for the harbor. The huge fireball showed him the way, and Spiderman hoped he would make it in time to help.
The wind was against him however. He tried going lower, hoping that the buildings would shield him from the wind. But the high walls worked as a wind tunnel.
Spiderman gritted his teeth against the merciless wind and kept swinging.
***
"You Lose Khan." Whispered The Shadow, as Khan stared in shock at the remains of the boat.
"Not till this fight is over." Khan gestured to a small wooden stand. The fake Phurba was sitting on it. Khan commanded the blade to attack. It did not move. Khan pointed toward the knife and once again yelled an order. The Phurba did nothing.
For a moment, khan reviewed everything in his grandfather's notes about controlling the blade when his foe's mocking laugh rang out.
"Hard to tell the genuine article isn't it Khan?" chuckled The Shadow.
Khan gave a scream of pure rage and grabbed the Phurba. Khan leapt at The Shadow, and while it was not a living knife, it was a sharp one.
The 2 experienced combatants grappled over the knife. The Shadow broke his grip for only an instant to deliver a mammoth blow to Khan's stomach. Khan reeled under the blow but did not falter with his grip. Khan also broke his hold to hammer The Shadow in the elbow, with a sharp grunt of pain; The Shadow lost his grip. Khan swung the blade in an arc and speared it down toward his opponent's heart. The Shadow threw an arm up to block the knife and was impaled through his dark glove.
Falling to the floor in pain, The Shadow lashed out in reflex and kicked Khan hard in the knee. Khan also groaned and fell to the floor next to The Shadow. Khan rolled toward his opponent and turned the roll into another attack. The 3-edged blade speared toward The Shadow's face. The Shadow rolled away at the last moment and the knife stabbed his cloak, ripping it apart. The Shadow instantly shrugged of his cloak and rose to his feet. Khan tried desperately to pull the protruding knife handle from the floor and accidentally snapped the blade in half. Discarding the useless handle, Khan leapt toward The Shadow again and the 2 fought each other like demons.
***
Spiderman was now away from the buildings. His webline useless now, he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, still pushing toward the harbor. It was only a few hundred yards away. Getting a good look for the first time, he froze. The docks were immense. How would he find the right shed?
***
Khan and The Shadow had been trading titanic blows for 10 straight minutes. Both had countless cuts and bruises. The Shadow delivered one final right hook and fell to his knees exhausted. Khan reeled from the blow and fell too. Both gasping for air and miserably drained, the men stared at each other.
The Shadow gulped air to re-oxygenate his blood, retrieved some energy, dragged himself over to Khan and pulled him up by the collar.
"It… is… over." He whispered.
"Never." Said Khan calmly. A crafty look appeared on his face, and he pulled out a remote control, identical to the one The Shadow had used not long ago.
Khan screamed his rage and a 10 second countdown appeared on the remote's display.
The Shadow could hear a quiet beeping coming from the walls. He dropped Khan and ran for the door.
9…
8…
7…
***
Spiderman had started at one side of the docks and worked his way to the other side. About 100 meters away was the last shed. It had to be the one. Praying he was in time, he ran for the shed.
6…
5…
***
The Shadow was running on adrenaline and it was not enough. He knew he could not make the door in time. On the lower floor now, he looked frantically around the room. Thin wooden walls, no windows and the door was too far away.
Turning to the wall, he drew both automatics and started to blast away at the wood.
4…
3…
***
The sound of gunfire confirmed the location. Only The Shadow, had weapons that sounded quite like that. He was seriously blasting away. Something was wrong. He was only 50 yards away.
2…
1…
***
The Shadow had punched through the wood in several places and decided that he was out of time. He charged the wall, smashed it, and leaped into the night air, just as his world flew apart in a blinding flash.
***
Spiderman was far enough from the explosion to avoid being hurt. He heat made his hair smoulder through his mask. Blinded by the explosion, he tried to see through the blinding light for his partner. Nothing, just flames and smoke. Coast guard boats and fire department speedboats, which were already on site of the tanker, scattered around the shed. Sirens were heard a few minutes later, as fire trucks came and tried desperately to keep the fire spreading to the rest of the docks.
"Come on Stephen," whispered Spiderman as he leapt off the rooftop to search the area again. "Where are you?"
Down on the water Spiderman saw a dark spot. Releasing his web line he fell toward the water. Turning his fall into a dive he splashed down next to the darkness. It was the slouch hat that The Shadow always wore. It was burnt. Refusing to be discouraged, Spiderman kept looking till the sun rose high the next morning.
Chapter 9
It was almost a week since the boat shed, and there was still no sign of Stephen. Peter returned every day to a hill that rose high enough to give a good view of the harbour. For 2 days, smoke had filled the sky above the water. After that, once the dust settled, a huge crater had become visible. No bodies had been pulled from the wreckage yet. Despite this, Peter knew the odds of seeing Stephen again were growing slimmer. Standing for the 7th time looking at the disaster zone, it occurred to him for the first time that he may not see his friend again.
"Is it me, or are the mornings getting colder?" said a voice behind him.
Peter let out a breath he had been holding for a week. He turned and saw Stephen standing beneath a tree.
"You cut that a little close didn't you?" he asked.
"Pete, if you know one thing about me by now, it should be that you cant trust your eyes." Stephen smiled. "Come on, I owe you a lunch at least."
"Yeah. You do." Peter wanted to scream at his friend, but he was just relieved that he was okay.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Stephen looked out over the harbour briefly.
"They haven't found Khan's body yet have they?" said peter, already knowing the answer.
"No." Stephen said simply.
"Well, I wouldn't worry about it. He could NOT have survived that blast"
"You would be surprised. Khan's are notorious for surviving."
"Almost as notorious as you"
Stephen laughed at that. They reached the road and Moe was already waiting for them. On the way to the Cobalt Club, Peter thought about what Stephen had said.
Could Khan have survived?
The Shadow would know, if Kuba khan returned.
THE END.