I must be outta my mind.
Dick Tracy glanced at the large man with black hair and a sagging face squatting next to him behind the car. Big Boy Caprice. How many times had this gangster tried to kill him? How many times had he threatened or kidnapped his girlfriend, Tess Trueheart?
Yet here he was, working with this slime.
Tracy looked out at the darkened, rubble-strewn street. Some buildings had large holes in them. Others were burned out. A few had collapsed. Most streets in Chicago looked like this.
Hence the reason Tracy was forced to work with one of his greatest foes.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
No, not friend. An ally, and not an ally he trusted at all. He did have to give Big Boy a tiny bit of credit. The SOB did have the brains to know that Ming's forces didn't discriminate between cops and hoods. They were all fair game in this city turned shooting gallery. They had called a truce in order to fight for the city Tracy protected, and that Big Boy wanted to own.
Still, Tracy wouldn't put it past Big Boy to put a bullet in his back while fighting these robowarriors.
"This plan of your better work, Tracy," grumbled Big Boy, his sausage-like fingers drumming the side of the box-like TNT detonator. "All that dynamite cost me big bucks."
"It'll work. Trust me."
"Ha! Trust a cop? Especially you? Fat chance. The only reason I'm working with you is because you'll just put me in jail. Those walking garbage cans would shoot me and not bother yelling, 'Hands up.' Oh yeah, they also blew up a lot of my gambling joints and brothels, and a bunch of businesses who pay for my 'protection services.' They're costin' me more money than you cops ever did."
"My heart bleeds for you, Big Boy."
The gangster scowled at Tracy.
He ignored it and slid his solid, six-one frame to the edge of the trunk. He peered around it. Three men crouched behind a building at the intersection. Mike Clifton, one of his fellow detectives, a beat cop named Lyons and one of Big Boy's thugs. Tracy watched them, his square-jawed features stiffening. When would some of those robowarriors come by? They'd had to dodge many of their patrols since the invasion began. Some would have to come by here soon.
It'll happen when it happens.
Nothing happened for about ten minutes, expect Big Boy complaining about everything under the sun.
Or the Moon, since it's night.
Orange muzzle flashes went off near the corner building. A split second later Tracy heard the cracks of gunfire. Clifton, Lyons and the thug – Frey was his name – hurried down the sidewalk, jumping over a couple pieces of debris. The trio ran to the car and ducked behind it.
"There's about six of them, Tracy," reported Clifton. "We got their attention good."
"Good work, Mike." Tracy slapped his shoulder, then looked to Big Boy. "You ready?"
Big Boy grunted. "If this doesn't work, don't put on my tombstone that I croaked working with the cops. I'll never live it down."
Tracy cracked a half-grin, then looked at the intersection. The six robowarriors came into view. Weapons raised, they marched down the street.
"Wait." Tracy held up a hand. Big Boy had his hands wrapped around the plunger.
Tracy held his breath, watching the robowarriors continue their march down the street. Their metal footsteps echoed off the ruined buildings around them. Tracy's eyes flickered from one little pile of debris to another, where they'd hidden sticks of Big Boy's dynamite. Dynamite he would have used to blow open bank vaults.
At least they're being put to a better use now.
"Wait," Tracy said again.
"How long do I gotta wait?" hissed Big Boy. "Till they're standing on my shoes?"
Tracy ignored the comment, instead looking from the little piles of debris to the line of robowarriors.
"Now!"
Big Boy pushed down the plunger.
The explosions rocked the street. Gushers of flame, asphalt and concrete shot into the air. A rain of debris pelted the car, and Tracy, and everyone else around him.
He counted to ten, then looked over the roof of the car. Ears still ringing from the blasts, he stared down the pockmarked street. The dust and smoke began to settle.
Tracy breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the wreckage of all six robowarriors lying amidst the ruin.
"Got 'em." He clenched a fist in triumph.
"Good. Now how's about we scram." Big Boy nodded to the fallen robowarriors. "Their buddies probably heard those explosions and are on their way here."
"In a minute." Tracy dashed out from behind the car.
"Tracy, where're ya goin'?" Clifton called out.
Tracy didn't answer. His eyes swept over the street and the robowarriors. Many of them had been blown to smoldering pieces. He also noticed their ray guns. Every one of them lay twisted and broken.
Damn. He would have loved to have gotten his hands on a couple of those guns. That would've given them a little more of an advantage over the robowarriors. But the thought of Big Boy having one of those weapons gave Tracy pause. When this war was over – and provided they all survived – he couldn't see the gangster giving up such a weapon so easily. Big Boy armed with a Tommy Gun was bad enough. Big Boy armed with a ray gun . . . that would give him nightmares.
He moved through the rubble, glancing toward the intersection. Much as he hated to admit it, Big Boy had a good point. Other robowarriors probably heard the explosions. He didn't think it would be long before more showed up.
He stopped and looked down at the severed head of a robowarrior, dented and scorched. Tracy grinned and picked it up. The thing was just a little heavier than a bowling ball. No trouble for a man who hit the weights at least four times a week.
Tracy hurried back to the car. Big Boy raised an eyebrow, staring at the robowarrior head.
"You gonna hang that on the wall of your office?"
"What I plan to do is get this to someone in the Army, or a scientist. We need to find out what makes these things tick, see what their weaknesses are."
Big Boy grunted. "I'd rather have one of those ray guns."
"I'm sure you would."
Tracy, Big Boy and the others took off down the street. They hugged walls and crouched behind debris. Once they had to hide when a robowarrior patrol appeared. Thankfully, they didn't see them.
The group made it two more blocks before the nasally buzz of a rocketship sounded overhead.
"In there!" Tracy, still clutching the head, ran toward a burned out building. The others followed him inside. Tracy crouched below a shattered window, along with Big Boy and Clifton. Officer Lyons and Frey ducked beneath the blown out window next to them.
The rocketship hovered over the street. A spotlight snapped on. Its beam played over the rubble-strewn street and the scarred buildings.
"Great," grumbled Big Boy. "Ming's gang sent a damn rocketship after us."
"That's not all they sent." Lyons pointed to his right.
Both Tracy and Big Boy looked down at the other end of the street.
They saw ten robowarriors.
"Wonderful. Just wonderful." Big Boy turned to Tracy, sneering. "I knew I never shoulda teamed up with you. Now you're gonna get me killed."
"If it's any consolation, Big Boy, I'm gonna get killed right alongside you."
"No, it's not any consolation. 'Cause I won't be around to enjoy you gettin' turned into burnt toast."
Tracy gave him a half-grin. He peeked over the window frame. They had no more dynamite. Their guns were useless. All they could do was hide, pray and hope that –
Ray beams shot from the rocketship.
"What the hell?" blurted Clifton.
The beams slashed into the approaching robowarriors. They practically disintegrated. Only severed legs and feet remained of the metal soldiers.
"I don't get it." Frey scratched his head. "Why would they blow up their own guys?"
"Don't know, don't care," Big Boy replied. "Just glad they did."
The rocketship landed. A ramp extended from the side. A man stepped out holding a ray gun.
One of Ming's flesh and blood soldiers? Tracy wondered. The man looked about Tracy's size and height, but with blond hair instead of black. Even though the rocketship's spotlight wasn't pointed at him, enough of its glow reached the man that Tracy thought he looked familiar.
"Whoa!" Lyons blurted. "Check out the dame."
Sure enough, an attractive blond woman stepped out of the ship.
"If that's one'a Ming's warriors, I'll gladly surrender to her." Frey licked his palm and slicked back his thinning hair.
"That dame's not gonna be interested in you," said Clifton.
"Yeah, and how would you know, copper?"
"'Cause I've seen her before in some magazines. I don't believe it, but it's really her."
"Who?" asked Lyons.
"Dale Arden," replied Clifton. "The lady pilot, and Flash Gordon's gal."
Tracy continued to watch as the pair made their way down the ramp. No wonder the man looked familiar to him. Flash Gordon's face had been on everything from pulp magazines to newsreels over the past three years.
Other people emerged from the rocketship. Three American soldiers and a middle-aged man.
"Well, at least we know they're on our side. Come on."
Tracy led the others outside. Flash, Dale and the soldiers brought up their guns when they emerged.
"Don't shoot! Detective Dick Tracy, Chicago PD."
Flash and the others lowered their weapons. He jumped off the ramp and bounded toward Tracy. The middle-age man followed.
"Glad to meet you, Detective," said Flash. "We've been looking for you."
"Really? I'd think you'd have more pressing matters than looking for one cop in this town . . . or what's left of it."
"Don't sell yourself short, Detective," the middle-aged man spoke. "Your efforts to make the streets of Chicago safer are known from coast to coast." He extended his hand. "William Donovan."
Donovan was about to say something else when Frey gasped. "Holy crap. Is that who I think it is?"
All eyes turned to the ramp. A figure with a dark cape and hat made his way down. While no one had ever taken a picture of the man, Tracy had read enough descriptions of the newcomer to recognize him.
It was the vigilante called The Shadow.
"What's this all about?" Tracy's eyes shifted between Flash Gordon and William Donovan.
"Beating Ming," answered Donovan. "The Army's taking on the chin from these robowarriors. Hell, the armies of every country in the world are taking on the chin. I'm putting together a team of exceptional men to bring this fight to Ming the Merciless, and give us a chance at beating him."
"Sounds like you need soldiers. I'm just a cop."
"If all the stories I've heard about you are even half-true, you're more than just a cop," said Flash. "I take it those explosions nearby were your doing."
Surprise flashed over Tracy's face. "You saw that?"
"Well, we didn't see you specifically do it, but Donovan felt if anyone in Chicago could ambush some robowarriors and blow them up, it'd be you."
"What am I, chopped liver?" Big Boy threw out his arms.
The Shadow stepped closer, his gaze on Big Boy. For some reason, the vigilante's face appeared blurry to Tracy. Word was The Shadow had, "The power to fog men's minds." He'd always thought it a bunch of hogwash. Now . . .
Maybe there is something to it.
The Shadow turned from Big Boy to Tracy. "Why do you associate with vermin such as this?"
"Hey, watch your mouth, buddy," Big Boy growled.
The Shadow didn't look the least bit intimidated.
"Look around." Tracy waved a hand at the destruction around them. "The whole city's a war zone, and those robowarriors don't care if you're a cop or a criminal. They'll kill you all the same. Only makes sense to team up to fight a common enemy."
"But once this is all over, I go back to trying to kill you." Big Boy pointed to Tracy.
The Shadow just stood there silently. Tracy, unfortunately, couldn't read the man's face to see what he might be thinking.
"Detective Tracy," said Donovan. "Believe me when I say you're more than just a cop. The number of big-time gangsters you've brought to justice, all the rackets you've broken up, all the tight scrapes you've gotten out of. You are an exceptional cop. You're smart like Thomas Edison and you're tough like Jack Dempsey. That robowarrior head in your arms proves it."
"I'm just doing my job."
"Stop being modest. Most people would go for a ray gun. You picked up a robowarrior head. Imagine what someone like Doctor Zarkov can learn from it."
Tracy nodded. "I was hoping to get this to a scientist. From what I've read, Zarkov's one of the best in the world."
"That he is," Flash said with unabashed pride.
"We need a man like you on our team," said Donovan. "You in?"
"Whatever I can do to beat Ming, I'll do it."
"Good."
"Hey!" Big Boy threw up his arms. "What about me?"
Donovan turned to him. "I've seen your face before, on the wanted posters at the post office. Big Boy Caprice, right?"
He smiled wide. "The one and only."
"What about you?"
"Can I join your team?"
Donovan gave him an incredulous look. "No."
Big Boy slapped his sides. "Well ain't that gratitude for you."
"You want my gratitude?" asked Donovan. "Stay here and do what you can to make life miserable for the robowarriors."
"Oh, and I'm supposed to risk my neck for your gratitude? Will your gratitude buy me a new car? A new penthouse? I don't think so. I think I'd be better off hiding out until this whole thing is over."
Donovan stepped toward Big Boy. "Then how about this. If you keep destroying robowarriors for the duration of this war, when it's over, I will grant you a full pardon for all the crimes you've ever committed, and all the crimes you're currently wanted for. You'll have a clean slate."
"You got the pull to do that?"
"I was a deputy assistant to Attorney General Daugherty during the Coolidge Administration and I personally know President Roosevelt. Is that enough pull for you?"
Big Boy bobbed his head from side-to-side. "Yes it is. You want me to blow up tin cans, I'll blow up a million of 'em."
"And we'll keep an eye on him and make sure he sticks to his promise," said Clifton.
Big Boy glowered at the detective.
Tracy nodded. "All right, good luck and be careful."
"We will, Tracy."
"I'm touched by your concern, Tracy." Big Boy put a hand over his head. "Very, very touched."
Tracy narrowed his eyes. There was part of him that wouldn't mind if a robowarrior nailed Big Boy between the eyes with a death ray. But he had to think big picture. The more robowarriors Big Boy took out, the more it would help the overall war effort.
Hoping Big Boy succeeds at something. Boy, war can be a crazy business.
He had to keep reminding himself that, for now, Big Boy Caprice was an ally. After the war was over, pardons or not, he knew they would settle their personal feud one way or the other.
Gordon followed Flash and Donovan to the rocketship. The Shadow walked next to him. Though he wouldn't admit it, the guy gave him the creeps.
And I've gone up against some of the toughest, most blood-thirsty gangsters in Chicago.
But not being able to see the man's face, and that getup of his, The Shadow looked more like a hood than a hero. Actually, he looked more like something out of a horror movie than a hero.
"You should not trust Big Boy," The Shadow said. Even his voice sounded inhuman.
"Believe me, I don't."
"Good. Because if it appears Ming the Merciless will win this war, a piece of human garbage like Big Boy will sell his soul to him in exchange for his life. By joining us, you have made yourself an enemy of Ming. A man like Big Boy, no doubt, knows many things about you, things Ming will not hesitate to exploit to try and destroy you."
"Then I guess there's only one way to make sure that doesn't happen." Tracy started up the ramp.
"What is that?"
Tracy stopped and turned to face The Shadow. "By defeating Ming."
TO BE CONTINUED
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Jack Dempsey was an American boxer who held the World Heavyweight Title from 1919-1926.