Templar scrambled to his feet, .45 in hand. Major Kessinger and the MPs also brought up their weapons.
"Put your guns down!" Bishop pressed the barrel of his pistol harder against Diana's head. "Put 'em down or I blow her brains out!"
"Do what he says," ordered Tracy.
Templar snorted and laid his gun on the floor. Kessinger and the MPs did likewise.
"Don't worry, Diana," Tracy told her. "It's gonna be all right."
"Trust me, this isn't the first time I've been through something like this."
"But it may be the last." Bishop eyed Major Kessinger. "You tell everyone here to stay out of my way. You let me have a car, you let me drive off, and don't even think about following me if you want her back alive."
Templar didn't believe Bishop for a minute. As soon as he was far enough away, he wouldn't need Diana any more. She'd be good as dead.
"You do realize there's no way we're going to allow you to leave."
"You're outta your mind." Bishop backed up, holding Diana in front of him. "You try anything and Miss Palmer here gets it."
"And if she gets it, then what?" Templar took a short, slow step forward. "I'll answer that. You're dead, that's what. Perhaps instantly, or I just might shoot you in the leg and hand you over to The Phantom. I don't even want to think what he'd do to you."
Bishop halted, biting his lip. Diana maintained a surprisingly calm visage.
"That's not gonna happen," said Bishop. "You're gonna let me go."
"And then what?" Tracy joined in. "You run back to Ming, let him know you were found out? From everything Flash told me, Ming's not a big fan of failure. He might kill you instead of us."
The color started to drain from Bishop's face. His breaths came quicker. "You're wrong. I destroyed your two rocketships. I rendered this base useless. The Emperor will reward me."
"Care to bet your life on that?" asked Templar.
Bishop didn't answer. He just breathed faster. Sweat formed on his brow.
Diana winked.
She made her body go limp. She sagged to the floor, catching Bishop off balance. He tried to pick her back up.
Diana grabbed Bishop's gunhand. She bit down on his thumb.
The spy cried out. Diana wrestled out of his grasp and bounded over to Tracy, who pulled her behind him.
Templar snatched his .45 from the floor. Major Kessinger and the MPs also went for their weapons.
"All right, old boy. You have no hostage and several guns pointed at you. I should think your only option is surrender."
Bishop's eyes flickered from Templar to Tracy to the soldiers. A tremor went through his body. He looked down at the revolver in his hand, then back to Templar. Desperation and hopelessness flared in the spy's eyes. Templar had seen similar looks from many of the corrupt businessman and crimelords he had confronted over the years. They saw their fortunes, their personal empires, gone. They knew they were in for a long stay in prison. Their lives were in ruins. It was truly the end for them.
For them, only one course of action remained.
Bishop straightened up. "Hail, Ming!"
Templar flipped the pistol in his hand, catching it by the barrel.
Bishop brought the .38 to his head.
Templar flung his pistol. It struck Bishop in the cheek. The spy grimaced, lowering his gun.
Templar darted forward. He grabbed Bishop's wrist and slammed his hand against the wall. The spy managed to hold on to the .38. He twisted around and grabbed at Templar's head.
Tracy appeared behind him. The detective delivered two quick jabs to Bishop's kidneys. He crumpled to his knees. His grip on the revolver slackened. Templar yanked it from his hand.
Tracy planted Bishop flat on the ground and pulled out his handcuffs. He turned to Kessinger. "So, you believe us now about this guy being a spy?"
The base commander responded with a scowl. That scowl grew harsher when he aimed his gaze at Bishop.
"If you don't mind, Major," said Tracy, "We need to grill this guy."
"Do whatever you want with him."
"Well, if you're going to give us cart blanche like that . . ." Templar looked down at Bishop, a wicked grin crossing his face.
XXXXX
Templar patted the sand around Bishop's head with his shovel. That was all that was visible of the spy. Templar, Tracy and Diana had buried him up to his neck in the desert over a mile from the rocket base. He mopped his brow and stared up at the sky. The sun still hadn't reached its zenith. Still, it was hot as Hades.
And it would be even hotter as the day went on.
"Comfy?" he said, looking down at Bishop.
The spy stared back at him, trying to look defiant. "You'll never get me to talk. I'll never betray the Emperor."
"I'm sure you'll change your mind the more the temperature climbs."
"The temperature's not the only thing you have to worry about," said Diana. "You might get stung by a scorpion or bit by a rattlesnake."
"Maybe a buzzard'll fly down and peck out your eyeballs," Tracy added.
"Seems as though you have quite a bit to ponder." Templar gave Bishop a half-smile.
The spy gritted his teeth and struggled against the thick sand surrounding him. The struggle proved futile.
"Just sit tight." Templar walked away, followed by Tracy and Diana. "We'll be back in an hour or so. Or longer."
They got in a pick-up truck loaned to them by Major Kessinger and drove back to the rocket base. When they returned, they went to the mess hall for lunch. Canned rations and coffee with the taste, and consistency, of motor oil.
"Is there no place on this planet where one can get a decent meal?" Templar winced at the slop on his spoon.
"I think an alien invasion would make food deliveries a little difficult," Tracy told him.
When they finished eating, they searched Bishop's quarters, but found nothing incriminating.
"What spy equipment he has, he's probably hidden it somewhere else on the base," said Tracy.
"Perhaps even away from the base," Templar suggested. "He could say he's going out to check the perimeter, then collect whatever he needs. He's part of the security detail. Who's going to think he's up to no good?"
Tracy nodded, then looked at his wristwatch. "It's been over three hours since we planted that louse in the ground. Let's see if he's ready to talk."
The trio drove back out to where they buried Bishop. The man's entire face was coated with sweat. His forehead and cheeks reddened. Templar looked up at the blazing sun hanging in the cloudless sky. He wiped a finger across his brow. It had gotten a hell of a lot hotter. Like the inside of a blast furnace.
And some Americans choose to live in places like this?
Templar grabbed a large bucket of water from the bed of the pick-up and walked over to Bishop, Tracy and Diana following.
"How are you holding up, old chap?"
"What you're doing to me is nothing compared to what the Emperor will do when he captures you and your friends."
"That's if Ming can catch us, and if he can keep us. I dare say I've escaped from many supposed escape-proof cells in my day."
"Don't think you've cornered the market on impossible escapes," Diana told him, tacking on a grin.
Templar turned to Tracy. "What about you, Inspector?"
"I've been held at gunpoint by as many as twenty hoods, and I'm still breathing."
"See." Templar turned back to Bishop. "It'll take a lot more to frighten us. Now, if you'll pardon me."
He lifted the bucket and tilted it back. Water spilled over his mouth. Templar took a couple swallows, licked his lips and sighed with pleasure. Bishop stared longingly at the bucket, mouth hanging open.
"Not exactly a fine Merlot, but on a blistering hot day like this, it will suffice." He held out the bucket for Bishop. "Care for some?"
The spy said nothing, but it wide eyes screamed, "Yes!"
"All you have to do is tell us everything about your set up, give us your contacts, and you can drink your fill."
Bishop's mouth closed. He stared at Templar and the bucket – moreso the bucket – for several seconds.
"I . . . I will not betray my Emperor."
Templar's shoulders slumped. "So be it." He planted the bucket six inches away from Bishop's head, then walked away. "Let us know when you've changed your mind."
The trio headed back to base. They got Major Kessinger to have the MPs conduct a thorough search of the base for any Mongonoid devices used by Bishop. While that was going on, Templar, Tracy and Diana questioned various base personnel, learning all they could about Bishop. His personality, his interests, how he performed his duty, any suspicious behavior. After a while, they figured out Bishop always acted professionally and took the security of this base very seriously. As a person, he kept to himself, no wife or girlfriend that anyone knew of. He also appeared willing to help those subordinates who worked hard, and was a big fan of the Detroit Tigers.
"Always kept going on about how Hank Greenberg's a better player than Babe Ruth ever was," said one soldier. "Maybe that shoulda tipped me off that he was an alien spy. Any normal joe knows there ain't no one better than The Babe."
When they finished with their interviews, Tracy looked to Templar and Diana. "Hard worker, fair to the men under him, likes baseball. Who would be suspicious of a guy like that?"
"Well said." Templar nodded. "Speaking of Sergeant Bishop, shall we see how he's faring?"
He checked his watch. It had been nearly four hours since they left the spy.
After a stop in the mess hall, they returned to Bishop. Templar noticed his face and ears had become badly sunburn. Sweat drenched his dark hair. His eyes were half-closed and aimed at the bucket of water.
"Bishop, old man. Ready to talk?"
He shook his head. "N-No."
Templar grabbed the bucket and sloshed around the water inside. "Sure?"
"Loyal to . . . Emperor. Won't betray him."
"You do realize if you don't drink something soon, you'll die of dehydration," Diana told him.
"Then I die. I'm . . . I'm loyal to the Emperor. Hail Ming."
"You may very well die," said Templar. "But I've heard dehydration can be a rather long and unpleasant way to go."
"Do-Do your worst, limey bastard."
"If you insist." Templar opened a package of sugar. He walked over to a mound of dirt with an opening in the middle and shook the package. He made a line of sugar from the mound to the edge of Bishop's throat, then dumped some sugar on him. The spy coughed and sneezed.
"What the hell?" he snapped.
Templar looked over to the mound. "Miss Palmer informed me earlier that mound is the home of red harvester ants. They have a rather nasty bite, especially when agitated."
He pulled out his .45 and fired three shots into the mound.
"I'd say they're rather agitated right now."
Within minutes hundreds of little red dots swarmed out of the mound and took to the line of sugar. Bishop's eyes were locked on the rippling, ever extending mass.
"We'll be back in an hour." Templar started back to the pick-up. "Or two. Or four. Not quite certain yet."
The trio climbed into the pick-up and drove back to base.
They returned over an hour later, and heard Bishop's screams the moment they opened the doors.
When they reached the spy, they saw ants crawling all over his face, a face marred by little red welts from the insects' bites.
"Ready to talk now?" asked Tracy.
Bishop gritted his teeth and shook his head.
The detective grunted. "Stubborn son of a gun, isn't he?"
"Let's give him another hour to think it over," suggested Templar.
"An hour-and-a-half. I need to touch up my make-up." Diana tacked on a wicked grin.
"Right. An hour-and-a-half it is."
The trio turned.
"Wait!"
They stopped and looked back at Bishop.
"I'll talk! Just get these damn things off me. Please!"
Templar dumped the bucket of water on over Bishop's head. That washed away several of the ants. Others Templar brushed off with his sleeve.
"You blew up those rocketships, didn't you?" asked Tracy.
"Yes."
"And murdered Colonel Watkins to make us think our investigation was over?"
"Yes."
"What about our car?" Tracy went on. "Did you put anything in it to let Ming know where we were?"
"Yes, I did. A radio tracking device."
"How long have you been on Earth?" asked Diana.
"All my life."
She furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"
"My parents were assigned to spy on this planet when they were in their twenties. Pretended to be married."
"And you followed in their footsteps to make them proud," said Templar.
"We must all serve Emperor Ming."
"Speak for yourself," said Tracy. "What about your parents? They still spying for Ming?"
Bishop hesitated. "My father works at a bar in San Diego, close to the Navy base."
"Not a bad cover," said Tracy. "Sailors come in, throw back a few, then start complaining about whatever's going on at base or when their shipping out, and on what ship. A good spy can pick up a lot of information at a bar."
Templar just nodded, wondering how much information Bishop's father passed along to Ming to help his invasion force.
"What about your mother?" asked Diana.
"She belongs to various social clubs, interacts with wives of cops and firemen."
"So she can report back to Ming how they do their jobs," said Tracy.
"You must have a way to contact Ming or his underlings." Templar leaned closer to Bishop. "A radio, I imagine. Where are you hiding it?"
"In a cactus, about a mile west of the base."
Templar nodded. "Now for the big question. Who is your contact?"
Bishop didn't answer.
"Right then. Looks like I'll need more sugar."
"No, wait!" Bishop's gaze shifted to Diana. "It's General Bababu."
Diana's eyes went wide with shock. "What?"
"General Bababu?" Templar tilted his head. "The chap who's been trying to take over Bangalla for years?"
"Yeah." Diana nodded. "He's originally from Mongo?"
"He's in charge of the entire Mongonoid spy network on Earth."
"Yet he still finds time to try and kill The Phantom and conquer Bangalla?"
"The general considered The Phantom a threat to Ming should he ever decide to invade Earth, a threat that needed to be eliminated."
"He did a rather poor job of it, didn't he?" said Templar. "Thankfully."
Bishop scowled, then continued. "He also thought by taking control of Bangalla, he would have a secure base of operations for his true purpose on Earth."
"And thankfully he did a poor job of that, too," added Diana.
"Well . . ." Tracy clapped his hands together. "Now that we know who's Ming's spymaster, we can take him out of the game, maybe round up his entire network. That oughta put a crimp in his plans to conquer the world."
"We can but hope, Inspector." Templar turned back to Bishop. "Thank you for your cooperation, Sergeant. It's very much appreciated. Now I'm afraid we must dash. We do have a world to save."
The three headed back to the pick-up.
"Wait!" Bishop shouted. "You can't just leave me here. Dig me out."
"Oh don't worry," Templar replied. "I'll have some soldiers from the rocket base come get you. Eventually."
TO BE CONTINUED