As gently as possible, Dick Tracy used his fingertips to lift the hatch a couple of inches. He peeked through the crack, eyes shifting left to right, scanning the interior of the Defender. It was devoid of people.

Thank God for this hidey-hole. Just before their ship docked with the dreadnaught, Flash told Tracy and Templar to get into this secret compartment.

"Ming's troops are expecting us to be here, not you," he had explained to them. "When the coast is clear, well, find a way to spring us."

Tracy didn't bat an eyelash at that. He'd done his fair share of rescue missions. He figured the same was true for "The Saint" Simon Templar. Not that the guy ever talked about his past deeds. Maybe even misdeeds?

While he may be a bit uncomfortable with Templar playing his cards close to the vest, Tracy had to admit the guy had actually been a good teammate.

He prayed he stayed that way.

"Anyone about?" asked Templar.

"Doesn't look it." Tracy had waited five minutes after hearing the last set of footsteps before opening the hatch, just to be on the safe side. He shoved the hatch to the side and climbed out.

"Jeez. There's more room in my kitchen cabinets than in that thing."

"I don't doubt you." Templar pulled himself out of the compartment. "Still, better stuck in there than in a cell, or worse."

"I won't argue with you on that one."

Templar slid the hatch back in place. "How fortunate Flash and his friends decided to add this little feature."

"Given all the run-ins he and Dale and Doctor Zarkov have had with Ming and his goons, they probably figured it was a necessity. Now come on. Let's find them."

"Right behind you, Inspector."

Ray pistols in hand, the two men headed to the side hatch, which was open. Tracy peered around the doorway. The Defender was connected to a short tunnel leading to a circular steel door with a porthole. They jogged the short distance to it. Tracy put his nose millimeters from the glass, staring into a corridor.

He noticed a shape out the corner of his eye. It turned out to be a man decked out like some space age Roman soldier, complete with a short sword and a ray gun.

A Mongonoid trooper.

So Ming does have some actual people in his invasion force.

Tracy grabbed the handle and pushed on it. It wouldn't budge.

"Locked," he mouthed to Templar.

The Brit held up his ray gun and waggled it.

Tracy nodded. They stood back from the hatch a couple of feet and raised their guns. Lightning bolts flew out the barrels. Sparks and smoke exploded for the handle. The door shuddered and cracked open.

Tracy leaped forward and yanked the hatch back. It was barely halfway open when he slipped through it. He figured he only had scant seconds before the guard recovered from the shock of the explosion.

The Mongonoid stared right at him, mouth agape. He started to bring up his rifle.

Tracy whacked him across the chops with his ray pistol. The guard stumbled and dropped his rifle. Tracy nailed him with a left hook. That put his opponent on the ground.

"Get him in there," he said to Templar.

The two men dragged the guard into the tunnel. Tracy took away the man's sword, then frisked him. He found no more weapons, just a device that reminded him of his own two-way wrist radio. The guard groaned, his head lolling from side-to-side.

"Hey." Tracy slapped the guard's cheek. "Wake up."

The Mongonoid's eyes flickered open. They widened in astonishment, and fear, at the sight of Tracy.

"Where's Flash Gordon and his friends?"

The guard's jaw quivered. He drew a deep breath. "How . . . How did you get aboard?"

"Hey!" Tracy snapped. "I'm asking the questions here. You're job is to give me answers. Where's Flash Gordon and the others? Talk!"

"You . . . You won't get off this ship alive, Earthman."

Templar rapped on the guard's helmet. "Is that gaudy helmet of yours affecting your hearing?"

"N-No."

"Then dispense with the usual threats and answer the good inspector's questions."

"Otherwise . . ." Tracy grabbed the guard's collar. "I won't be good at all."

The guard swallowed. "I . . . I won't tell you anything."

A ray beam exploded inches from the guard's head. He yelped. Tracy swung his head toward Templar, who held a smoking ray pistol.

"What the hell? Are you nuts?"

"My apologies, Inspector, but we don't have time for the standard police interrogation."

Tracy was about to argue, but stopped himself. They were onboard a large enemy warship, with who knew how many Mongonoids, maybe even robowarriors. They needed to find Flash and the others, and they couldn't afford to waste time.

He let go of the guard, got back to his feet and stepped back. "Well, now you've done it. You've riled up my friend. Good luck. You're gonna need it."

The guard's eyes grew even wider. He took quick, fearful breaths, looking from Tracy to Templar.

Tracy noticed the change in Templar's demeanor. Gone were the warm, boyish features and that subtle grin. A dead serious expression had settled on the Brit's face.

"Dead" being the operative word.

"Now, my outer space friend." Templar looked over his pistol. "I won't threaten to kill you outright. After all, it's rather difficult to get answers from a dead man. But I can shoot you in ways that won't kill you. Legs. Hands. Arms. Genitals. After a while, the pain will be so great, you will beg me to kill you. And I won't, until you tell us what we want to know."

Tracy studied Templar's face, his body language. He saw no indication this was an act. The Brit meant every word.

"How about we start with a hand?" Templar pointed the pistol at the guard.

"No! No, wait! I'll tell you!"

Templar lowered the pistol. A warm smile formed on his face. "There. That wasn't so difficult."

Tracy looked down at the guard. "So. Where are they?"

"The detail guarding Flash Gordon and his companions were ordered to take them to Admiral Exemar."

"And where can we find this Admiral Exemar?" asked Tracy.

"He's probably on the bridge."

"Thanks." Tracy then found some rope on the Defender, tied up and gagged the guard and dumped him in the ship.

"Now we have to come up with a plan to get on the bridge and get Flash and his friends." Tracy clenched his chin between his thumb and index finger.

"I think our guard might be useful in more ways than one," said Templar. "He does look to be about my size."

"Disguise yourself as a guard? What about me?"

"You'll obviously be my prisoner."

"What about his accent? The guy sounds like some weird mix of haughty British and German."

"Ah, you mean I must talk like this?" Templar perfectly imitated the accent of the Mongonoid guard.

Tracy raised an eyebrow. Templar must have had a lot of practice speaking in different accents. Again, he wondered just what the hell it was this man did for a living.

Whatever he does, hopefully it'll help us rescue Flash and the others and get off this ship.

XXXXX

Hands shackled and escorted by four guards, Flash, Dale and Zarkov were marched onto the horseshoe-shaped bridge of the dreadnaught. At least a dozen Mongonoids sat at consoles, staring at video screens and pressing buttons. A walkway in the middle of the bridge led to the cushioned captain's chair. Next to it stood a man whose uniform barely contained his girth. His helmet had two wing-like appendages and an inverted V just above the forehead.

Flash had seen helmets like that before. They belonged to Mongonoid admirals.

This admiral – Exemar, he assumed – clasped his hands behind his back and waddled toward him, grinning the entire time.

"Flash Gordon. What a delight it is to have you aboard my ship."

"Your sincerity is overwhelming," Flash quipped.

That just made Exemar smile wider. "I assure you, Earthman, I am being very sincere. For years you defied the rightful rule of his imperial majesty, the Emperor Ming." He bowed his head in reverence. "Even worse, you have encouraged others to rebel against him, driving him, driving us, from the planet of our birth."

"I just wish we could've driven you farther away from Mongo," said Dale.

Exemar leveled a glare at her, then turned to Flash. "You should teach your woman to hold her tongue in the presence of an imperial admiral."

"Why would I when I completely agree with her?"

Dale smiled.

Exemar snorted. "Your jokes will not save you from his majesty's wrath. And when he finds out I was the one to capture you three, I have no doubt he will elevate me to grand admiral of the fleet." He took a step closer to Flash and his companions. "I shall remember to thank you for that, before you are put to death."

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself there, pal," said Flash. "Because if it were up to me, I wouldn't put you in charge of a rubber duck in a bathtub, nevermind an entire space fleet."

Anger lines dug into Exemar's jowly face. He took another step forward, looking ready to strike Flash.

"Admiral," called out one of the Mongonoid bridge crew. "We are receiving a transmission from Mongo, from the Emperor."

Exemar straightened up, anticipation radiating from his body. "Put it on the main video screen."

A compact-looking movie screen lowered from the overhead. Static crackled across it for a few seconds. Then a face appeared. A familiar face, a face of pure evil.

The face of Ming the Merciless.

"Hail, Ming!" Exemar and the other Mongonoids shouted.

"Flash Gordon." Ming leaned forward, a wicked grin on his face. "How I have waited for this day." His gaze shifted to Exemar. "I commend you, Admiral, for the capture of our greatest enemy and his companions. You have served me well this day and shall be properly rewarded."

"Thank you, You Majesty." Exemar bowed.

"So what now, Ming?" asked Gordon. "Are you gonna have your goons kill us or are you gonna be a man and come down here and do it yourself."

Exemar's jaw dropped. So did the jaws of many other Mongonoids on the bridge. They probably couldn't believe someone would actually challenge the manhood of their emperor.

"How dare you?" Exemar stammered. "How dare you speak to his majesty in such a way? I shall personally cut out your tongue and stomp on it like an annoying chatter worm!"

"You shall do no such thing, Admiral."

Exemar turned back to the screen and bowed. "As you command, Your Majesty."

Ming steepled his fingers. "No, Gordon, it is not enough for me to simply kill you."

Flash kept his face neutral, hiding his disappointment. So much for goading him into a duel so I can kill him.

"It is my intention to show the people of your world," Ming continued, "and the rebellious scum on Mongo, that even their greatest hero can be defeated. You shall be put on trial, a trial to be broadcast on both Earth and Mongo. All shall hear the crimes you have committed against my rule. All shall see you shackled, broken, helpless. Then when you have been found guilty, you shall be publicly executed. When Earthmen and traitorous Mongonoids see that not even the great Flash Gordon can defy me and live, no one shall ever dare oppose me again."

"You want me, Ming, fine. Just let Dale and Zarkov go."

Ming chuckled. "Oh no. Doctor Zarkov shall join you in your trial and execution, while the lovely Dale Arden shall become my bride."

Dale grimaced. "Can I choose execution instead?"

Again, Ming chuckled, tacking on a lecherous grin. "I shall enjoy turning you into an obedient wife."

"Good luck with that," Dale fired back.

The door to the bridge slid open. Flash turned and felt his stomach plummet.

Dick Tracy entered, hands raised, a Mongonoid guard pointing a ray gun rifle at his back.

So much for an escape attempt. Then he wondered where Templar was. Still on the loose? Dead, perhaps?

"Who is this?" Exemar pointed to Tracy.

"It is another Earthman," the guard replied. "I found him hiding on Flash Gordon's rocketship."

Exemar strode over to Tracy. "Identify yourself."

"Detective Dick Tracy, Chicago Police Department." He gazed around at the bridge, his eyes coming to rest on the image of Ming the Merciless. "You should know that holding an officer of the law at gunpoint is good for twenty-five to life on this planet."

"The laws of your planet are meaningless," said Exemar. "There is only one law now, the Law of Ming. Hail Ming!"

"Hail Ming!" shouted the bridge crew.

"Hail Ming!" Tracy's guard quickly added.

Flash eyed the Mongonoid. The helmet obscured some of his facial features, but he could swear . . .

"Yes, I heard you were recruiting other noted Earthmen to try and save your world," said Ming. "Then, Detective Tracy, you shall suffer the same fate as Flash Gordon and Doctor Zarkov."

"Should I be shaking in my boots, baldy?"

The guard rammed the butt of his rifle into Tracy's back. He sagged to his knees.

"Do not ever speak to his imperial majesty in such a manner."

Tracy turned to face the guard, who grabbed the detective by the collar. "Do you require another lesson in respect?"

The guard's mouth moved silently. Flash swore the man said, "Hit me."

Tracy buried a fist into the guard's stomach. The Mongonoid collapsed, rolling under one of the consoles.

The guards that had escorted Flash leapt forward, pistols up. They surrounded Tracy, who raised his hands and looked to Flash. "Sorry, Captain. Looks like I let you down."

"Don't worry, Dick. We're not dead yet."

"Oh, but you soon will be," said Ming. "Admiral, put those four in one of your holding cells, then find a suitable place on Earth to hold their trial. Having it on Flash Gordon's home world will show its inhabitants we are in complete control."

"As you command, Your Majesty." Exemar turned to the guards. "Lieutenant Lep. Take the Earth people to a holding cell."

"Yes, Admiral." Lep saluted, then looked at the guard Tracy had hit. He still lay under the console, moaning.

"Get up, you fool!" Lep yanked the guard by the tunic, hauling him to his feet.

"Thank you, S-"

Lep slapped the guard across the face, staggering him. "Pick up your rifle! Prove to us that you are still worthy as a soldier of Emperor Ming."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

The guard picked up his rifle. Lep strode out of the bridge, with one guard on his heels. The remaining three guards walked behind Flash, Dale, Zarkov and Tracy.

Flash kept glancing around as they marched through the dreadnaught's corridors, looking for any opening to overpower the guards. He found none. The three guards behind him all had their rifles pointed his way. He might be able to take out one, but the other two would certainly mow him and his friends down.

He had to bide his time. An opportunity to escape would present itself.

He hoped.

"I don't recall seeing you before," the guard on the left said to the one in the middle. "How long have you been on the Bloodlust?"

"Oh, all of fifteen minutes, give or take."

The guard on the left skidded to a halt, eyes bulging in shock at the British accent.

Templar? Flash barely completed the thought when the disguised Brit rammed the butt of his rifle into the left guard's face. He crumpled to the deck. The guard on the right barely had time to react as Templar swung around and put a beam in his gut.

Lieutenant Lep and the other guard swung around. Tracy yanked a ray pistol from behind his back and fired. The beam sliced through Lep's chest. An instant later he shot the other guard dead.

Templar removed his helmet, smoothed out his blond hair and looked at Flash. "I trust this rescue attempt meets with your approval, Captain?"

"You bet it does." He held up his shackled hands. "You wouldn't happen to have the keys to these things?"

"I believe so. The guard I borrowed this outfit from seemed rather well equipped."

Templar removed a set of keys from his belt. He fit one in the keyhole for Flash's shackles. It didn't work.

The second key did. Templar then unshackled Dale and Zarkov.

"Now let's get back to Defender before Ming's troops get wise." Dale snatched a ray pistol from one of the dead guards. Flash and Zarkov also picked up pistols, then raced through the corridors.

A pair of soldiers appeared from around the corner. They stared at Flash's group with wide eyes.

"What are y-"

Flash and Tracy gunned them down and continued running.

They reached the damaged airlock without incident and boarded the Defender. Tracy and Templar hauled out the bound, gagged and stripped guard and dumped him into the corridor. Flash aimed his pistol at one of the docking clamps and fired. He turned away as it exploded in a shower of sparks.

"Is that gonna be enough to get us out of here?" asked Tracy.

"The docking clamps are controlled from the dreadnaught's bridge. Taking that one out should have broken the connection."

The corners of Tracy's mouth curled. "I'd rather have something more definite than, 'should have.'"

"We'll find out in a minute if it works. But a bigger concern is this ship coming after us once we escape."

"You need not concern yourself with that, my dear Captain," said Templar. "When Inspector Tracy hit me and I was on the floor, I left a little surprise for Admiral Exemar. I only hope Doctor Zarkov won't be too upset I had to take one of his gadgets in order for our plan to work."

XXXXX

"Admiral," the sensor operator called out. "Flash Gordon's ship has uncoupled from us."

"What?" Exemar spun to face him. "How is that possible? Show me on the viewing screen."

"Putting it on the viewing screen now."

A bolt of fear went through Exemar as he watched the Defender pull away from Bloodlust's side. Flames burst from the smaller ship's engines. It turned and flew away.

"Helm! Pursue the Defender! Capture that ship at all costs." Sweat soaked Exemar's forehead. If Gordon and his friends got away . . .

He shivered, nausea burning his stomach. He tried his best to fight off the fear, but all he could see was Emperor Ming's face. How could he explain a failure of this magnitude to his imperial majesty?

How could he survive this kind of failure?

The Bloodlust turned left. Exemar felt the thrusters vibrate through the dreadnaught. The big ship wasn't moving fast enough for him.

"Increase speed! Don't let Gordon get aw-"

Sparks erupted from the consoles to his left. Mongonoids screamed and tumbled out of their chairs. Several of them had burns on their faces.

The chain reaction continued. More consoles exploded. The sharp, acrid stench of smoke permeated the bridge. Exemar hacked uncontrollably. He sensed the Bloodlust moving in a slow circle over Flagstaff.

"Helm," he croaked. "Helm! Bring the ship under control."

No response.

"Helm!" He turned to find smoke pouring out of helm control. The helmsman thrashed about the deck, hands over his face.

Damage control parties rushed into the bridge. They sprayed the smoking consoles with fire extinguishers. Exemar screamed at them to repair helm and weapons control.

"The estimated repair time is four hours," explained the chief of the damage control party.

"We don't have four hours! Fix it now or so help me I'll have your head mounted on the front of this ship!"

"Y-Yes, Sir." The chief trembled and hurried off.

Exemar looked around at the bridge, mostly smoke free thanks to the ventilators. How could this have happened? How could the consoles have just exploded?

The damage control chief provided the answer ten minutes later when he brought to Exemar a small, glass-tipped rod mounted on a tripod.

"This was found under one of consoles, stuck in the corner."

"I know this device. It's a thermal delay beam. Our spies use these to detonate enemy munitions and fuel. But how did one get aboard my bridge?"

Exemar looked over to the console where the chain reaction began. He held his breath when he remembered the Earthman Dick Tracy punching his guard. The man had fallen and rolled on the floor, under the console.

He could have . . . no. Oh no.

Another Earthman had gotten aboard Bloodlust, disguised himself as a guard and sabotaged the ship.

One of the empire's most powerful warships, hobbled by a tiny heating device.

Even worse, Flash Gordon had escaped. The trial Emperor Ming desired would never happen.

Admiral Exemar doubled over and threw up.

TO BE CONTINUED