Superman flew to the quiet Washington street in the dark of night, the shadows muting the Metropolis Marvel's bright primary colours. The home he sought was distinguished by a simple brass plaque, carrying the name; Doctor Occult, followed below by the title 'Ghost Detective.'

The door was attended by Doctor Occult's butler, the wood and stone were no barrier to Superman's x-ray like vision, or his preternatural hearing, and the Man of Tomorrow watched the older man approach down the hall. Occult had told him "Jenkins the door, our visitor has arrived."

Superman did not ring the bell. It was unnecessary. Jenkins greeted him with a courteous nod of his head and his English accent sounded entirely appropriate. "This way Sir."

Superman suspected that late night callers like him, were an occupational hazard, he did not expect that a 'Ghost Detective' kept regular hours.

Internally the house had all the signs of a secondary residence, there was the hint of a woman's touch in places, the presence of flowers, the occasional choice of decorative picture, and for Superman the tell tale scent of perfume lingering behind the predictable tobacco smoke.

Jenkins gestured for Superman to proceed into a large room off the entrance hall which was appointed as an office, and was masculine in its singular purpose.

Occult stood up from behind a large dark desk and welcomed his guest.

"Superman I am glad you were able to come." He said walking to greet him.

Superman extended his hand, their shared an uncanny resemblance, it was as if the same artist had drawn them, as if the gods had made them brothers.

Occult however did not wear a cape. Superman had unintentionally created that particular fashion, and his style was being followed. Many of the heroes who had emerged from the shadows inspired by his dramatic public appearance in Metropolis two years before, had intentionally copied his costume – an alien fashion, once a Kryptonian standard had become de rigueur among the vigilante Metahuman community. These new heroes had taken to wearing capes, strong colours, and tight fitting costumes; styles previously were seen only at the circus or on the stage, or Saturday morning movie serials. Superman's choice of costume had been one of necessity as only his Kryptonian fabric could withstand the abuse his powers dealt it; while theirs was imitation, but Superman recognised it as the sincerest form of flattery.

Occult however was an older kind of hero, one who worked in the shadows, not making headlines in Newspapers like the Daily Star, or even becoming an urban legend propagated by the tabloid scandal sheets that loved the legendary Bat-Man of Gotham.

Occult's signature trench coat and hat that hung in the hall way. Today in his study, his hand tailored double breasted suit marked him as a man of means. While the walls of his home were repositories for knowledge, lined with shelves, vast numbers of books surrounded them, histories and mythologies, many having great value as a result of both age, and rarity; but also an immeasurable worth – that of hidden knowledge, of magic and mystery. These marked him as a man of learning.

"Doctor - Gio Zatara told me you had something of great importance to discuss with me." Superman said shaking the other man's hand.

"Thank you Superman for sparing me your time."

"I was in the neighbourhood."

Occult nodded. "How was the President?"

"Angry and troubled." Superman replied, Zatara had assured him that Occult was a trusted friend – a fellow Master of Magic.

"I asked to see you because our shared future is uncertain, even to my colleague Doctor Fate."

"These are uncertain times." Superman replied, thinking of the mysterious Helmet of Nabu that both empowered Kent Nelson, and had dressed him in blue and gold after the fashion Superman had started. Not all wore capes; remembering the Hawks, and he smiled when he thought of Diana – each had a style all their own, one that came from a less puritanical time, when the human form was more celebrated than concealed. He took charge of his thoughts pushing aside Wonder Woman's god given looks and concentrating the reality of the battles they had fought together.

Occult addressed his recent adventures saying. "These are dark times Superman, and I know you have already witnessed them - the hidden dangers that lurk in the shadows."

"That monsters are real?" Superman said. "That creatures of myth and magic live among us? Yes I have seen such things."

"Indeed you have Superman; the mechanisms of Hephaestus, the Annunki Vault, the Nekropolis, and the paradise islands that are Themyscira.

"However there are other hidden realms, there are friends and foes, creatures of magic and science who are now choosing sides in a war that will envelop the world. That you are to play a role in this battle of titans is as inescapable."

"I have chosen my side. Truth and Justice, defending the American way."

Superman wondered why this Master of Magic had asked to see him. Occult seemed to sense this.

"And then there is Wotan." Occult stated. "Wotan, who bested you. Wotan who at his strongest can defeat us all."

Superman frowned, was this why Doctor Occult wished to see him to remind him of his weaknesses and his defeat? "I hurt Wotan – of that I am sure, and I won't make the same mistake twice." He vowed.

"Do you understand what he is?" Occult asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Wotan is an olden god resurrected."

"Olden god – what is that?"

"The olden gods are personas worn by ancient beings of power, they appear as the personification of human wants and desires, drawing energy from the well spring of human consciousness."

Superman considered this statement carefully, he was aware people - entities were not what they seemed. "I have met Hephaestus." He said.

"If you saw him now – once again resident in the realm of Olympus, you would not recognise him."

Superman looked puzzled. "How so?"

"Because he wears the persona of the god of blacksmiths, of technology and industry. His appearance has changed as you and I might change our clothes, but for him it is a transformation into the handsome giant of myth."

"Okay, that I can understand - what has this ability to look radically different, to look like peoples beliefs and expectations to do with Wotan's strengths?"
"Wotan is first a man - a man no doubt of unique abilities and history – he would have to be – but the Nazi's have clothed this man in a persona – a personification of a human want and desire – an olden god." Occult explained. Taking a book from his desk he showed Superman an old engraved image; the Teutonic god of war.

"Wotan – once worshipped by the Germanic tribes. Now worshipped again by the Nazi's – for political reasons through the cult of the Third Reich, ."

"I don't follow you."

"The Nazi's empower Wotan – make him strong – by channelling the emotional energy, drawing power from the collective consciousness of their nation and their newly conquered territory."

"How can that happen?" Superman asked, adding. "Honestly I know stage magic. I know tricks - slight of hand and I have studied mesmerism, but real magic – the magic of the gods; the things you – Doctor Fate, Gio do,.. I don't understand it.

"What do you mean by the personification of desires?" Superman paused thinking for a moment. "Surely emotions and ideas are insubstantial? I mean Doctor how do you bottle a ghost?" He asked thinking of Occults second title, Ghost Detective.

"Exactly Superman." The Doctor agreed. "We are talking of ghosts in this sense, to you, to science, these are insubstantial energies - energies that should not by rights be tapped by modern man, this is a power that has always been the preserve of the Elder gods."

"Then how have the Nazi's empowered Wotan?" Superman asked.

"That is an excellent question." Occult agreed with a quiet sigh. "I know where the power comes from – but how Hitlers Occult Scientists are able capture and channel this energy into the body of a mere man, creating Wotan. I am just not sure." Occult paused obviously uncomfortable with speculation. "I only know of the God-Wave event that created the gods of the old world, that gave them this ability. How the Nazi Occult Scientists might recreate this ancient power I do not know. I have my suspicions, although I cannot make sense of them."

Occult paused returning the book to his desk. He looked at the Man of Steel questioningly.

"Essentially Superman it comes down to this – the Wisdom of the Ages has always been this, that the God-Wave event cannot be recreated, and yet with Wotan it's power returns – I am deeply troubled as to how can this be?"

-'S'-

Lois Lane hammered on the door of Clark Kent's berth aboard the Calcutta, a neutral freighter. The American Reporters had bought passage on her, it was no cruise liner, but they had taken what was available, sailing from Southampton out into the Atlantic south to the Iberian peninsula.

The Reporters had been berthed in adjoining cabins on the neutral merchantman, the Calcutta was returning to it's home port of Lisbon. In Portugal Lane and Kent intended to catch a liner - the SS Washington which was evacuating American citizens from Europe.

Lois was angry about the war, angry that so many people wanted to appease the Nazi regime. The crumpled Newspaper she held in her hand had carried an article that had made her mad, but that was an excuse, really Lois was worried.

Clark Kent had disappeared for weeks, had been given up as dead by her contact in the British Secret Intelligence Service Viscount Phelps, only to return to her his usual affable if clumsy self.

"Clark?" She asked. "Amnesia is serious." She stated more to herself, because otherwise she was talking to the door of his berth. "Kent have you passed out? Damn it answer me. Are you sea sick?"

Silence greeted her.

"Can I help you Miss." a male voice asked in passable English.

She turned and shook her head, the swarthy sailor was passing by, his smile was genuine enough, the kind a guy likes to give a pretty girl.

"My colleague." Lois replied. "He's a heavy sleeper. Probably took something. I can't raise him." She said. Kicking Kent's door one more time Lois returned to her own cabin.

-'S'-

"The God Wave was something that Ultra Humanite first told me about." Superman told Doctor Occult. His mind drawing conclusions of his own. Conclusions he did not care for.

Occult looked at him directly. "And what do you know of the God Wave – strange visitor from another planet?"

Superman frowned. He should not be surprised that his secret was discernible to a man of magic like Doctor Occult, he suspected Zatara knew. Gio had used magic to heal a gunshot wound a depowered Clark Kent had received. At the same time Zatara's spell purged him of the Kryptonite poisoning that was crippling him. He had seen the surprise in Gio's eyes, the doubt and the questions. The idea irked him. Quickly he put aside such thoughts and decided to come clean.

"I was sent here to Earth in a spaceship that travelled not only between stars, but also the barrier between universes.

"Alternative Realities – Parallel Dimensions – Infinite Earth's." Occult said apparently he was not fazed by the revelation. Clearly the supernatural detective was familiar with the reality of metauniverse.

"Yes." Superman had not discussed this with anyone but the avatars of his birth parents, it was odd meeting an individual who could appreciate the complexities of his origin. "During my voyage my spaceship was damaged by the God-Wave event as it travelled between Universes. The living metal of it's superstructure was transformed, and now when exposed to light energy the K-Metal mutates growing a crystalline substance that emits dangerous radiation.

"This Kryptonite emits energy that hurts and injures me, robs me of my powers, but can also cause strange powers to manifest in others. I have seen telepathy in one and then superhuman strength accompanied by madness occur in another, they were normal people until they were exposed to Kryptonite." Superman recalled the Winstons, but chose not to name them.

Doctor Occult ran his hand through his dark hair making the connection himself. "Then the Barnett Winston Comet was connected to you and your spaceship – wasn't it?"

"The meteors are what remains of it – yes." Superman replied. "When the comet passed by the Earth some of the material made it to ground, for a time there was a short lived but intense spike in Kyrptonite radiation that robbed me of my powers."

"Hence the tell tale energies of the God-Wave that I detected at that time." Occult gasped. He turned to gaze into the flames of the fire. Lost in thought for a long moment. "I had no idea how this could be – it was like waking up one morning to see a dinosaur grazing outside in my back yard!" Doctor Occult raised his hands to emphasize his words.

"The God-Wave is an ancient event, unique to the olden times – and yet in the night sky was it's signature in that comet.

"But now I see what has happened, your space craft did not conform to the normal laws of space and time, so it behaved like an accidental time capsule."

Superman said. "As I fought with Wotan I recognised that he had been exposed – even infused with Kryptonite radiation. Given what you have told me about Wotan's abilities I can only conclude the two are connected."

Angrily the Doctor hit the flat of his palm with his fist."I am certain you are right, an Occultist must have used the crystalline Kryptonite to channel the collective energies of the cult of the Third Reich into the persona of Wotan."

Superman continued. "But Doctor there was more going on that that. Simply being in the territory of the enemy hurt me - I felt weaker as I approached Berlin. The first time I lost my powers it was because of Barnett Winston Comet's radiation, and this felt much the same. Even before I clashed with Wotan it was as if I was been drained of my strength by Kryptonite."

Doctor Occult nodded solemnly and said. "I am not in the least surprised."

Superman clenched his fists exasperated. "I was. I was completely surprised. Why would that be? Do you have any ideas? - Because I know the comet isn't back - that much is obvious." He gesticulated skyward. "And yet I am feeling the effects of green-K; worse the cumulative effects." Superman sighed. It was hard for him to admit weakness. "Every time I am knocked down my Kryptonite radiation I get back up again, my strength returns - but not entirely, I'm steadily getting weaker, slower, more vulnerable.

"Doctor I fear I'm being poisoned."

Occult said. "Superman this is why I had to talk to you – and it is the crux of our problem." He gestured to Superman to join him. From his desk he retrieved a Map. Spreading out a rendering of the world on his desk, Doctor Occult traced around the territories occupied by the Nazi's. "This is Wotan's Sphere of influence. His power is greatest where the Nazi's are strongest, but now his power is growing fed by the fear and pain of the defeated." A dark red shadow seemed to appear on the map marking the Nazi's conquests.

Superman understood the glow was some of Occult's magic.

"These are the Axis powers." Doctor Occult added Italy and Japan, and other allies of Germany. These were now magically coloured red alongside the Nazi conquests. "Here Wotan is also strong; but not as strong as he was over Berlin." Here the colour darkened until it was almost black.

He pointed to British Isles. "This territory is threatened by invasion, and the Luftwaffe's bombs." The United Kingdom turned a blue colour. "Here Wotan has power – he can reach and do harm, but this is true where ever there is war – it is disputed territory. Here the fight would more equal." The colours overlapped becoming purple.

Then he moved to America. "The United States is not beyond his reach of Hitler's forces, so Wotan is at his weakest here." The blue glow was at it's purest here with flashes of purple where Diana had encountered the Nazi Agents in New York. Other flashes indicated the work of fifth columnists.

"However his weakness beyond Germany is relative, the truth is Superman, Wotan is more powerful than ever, and with each Nazi victory he grows stronger.

"In short Superman Wotan is poisoning not only you, but the world."

Superman frowned, face dark and angry. "This explains it." He wondered where this would end – if this war would be the death of him?

Doctor Occult nodded. "That is his power – his poison; this is the sphere of Wotan's influence, his energies permeate the conquered territories, and Germany itself, just as the Nazi soldiers control these areas.

"That is what I wanted you to understand Superman. You and the other heroes who stood with you against the Brotherhood of the Wolf – the Justice Society, they are like a moth and Hitler is a flame, the closer you fly, the greater danger you are in."

"The closer I am to Wotan's power, the weaker I am?" Superman asked. "Is that the bottom line."

"It is Superman. I thought it a new magic, perhaps even a new god wave event, but it was something else – it is Kryptonite and magic harnessed together by the Nazi regime."

"My Achilles Heel." Superman said.

"However it is no longer just your Achilles Heel." Doctor Occult warned. "The power of Krypt-magic makes Wotan a real threat – to all who would oppose Hitler's Third Reich."

Superman considered this for a moment. "And if Wotan were to possess the hand of Mars?"

Dr Occult looked at him with the sternest of faces. "It is as Doctor Fate told you. Wotan's power would extend to the United States and beyond. The Fist of Ares would magnify the sphere of Wotan's influence to the whole world!

"You would be rendered as powerless as you were over Berlin. We all would be – that is the power of the Hand of Mars."

Superman was dumbstruck, he had helped Wonder Woman out of duty, helped the Bat-Man defeat the Vampiric Brotherhood's kidnapping ring; together they had prevent an invasion of the undead, but he had not fully realised the danger the Hand of Mars truly posed.

"More over that the Spectre who is bound by a higher power would not be able to intervene, and we – the Sentinels of Magic, would not be strong enough to defeat Wotan alone." Occult said. "If the Nazi's secure the Hand of Mars for Wotan, the war is as good as over, even before America gets to fire a shot."

-'S'-

"Professor Barnett Winston?"

The older man looked up from his work. The door to his office in Metropolis University was ajar and sandy haired gentleman peered through.

"Yes – Can I help you young man?" Barnett asked. All men under forty were young men to him.

"I'm Robert Meersman." Came the reply.

"Come in, come in, don't hang around in the door way. Meersman did exactly that.

He took a seat across from the Professor.

"How can I help you." Barnett asked. "I don't recognise you from any of my classes?"

"It's been a good ten years since I graduated Professor, but thanks." Meersman offered the Professor a card, Barnett took it, and adjusting his glasses read it.

"Ah you are that Robert Meersman." Barnett declared. "I read your paper on the potential for nuclear science, and you were a signatory to the Einstein–Szilárd letter last year.

"As were you." A quiet understanding passed between them.

Barnett spoke softly. "So is it the potential for an Atom Bomb that brings you to my door."

"I wouldn't say that exactly."

"Then what?" Barnett invited Meerson to come to the point.

"In these troubled times I have felt compelled to do something, something distinct from the industrial-governmental hegemony, something purer."

"Purer?"

"I am lucky enough to independently wealthy Professor Winston."

Barnett gestured and nodded.

"And that has given me an ability to act independently – to fund my own research, but there is only so much I can achieve alone."

"I see you are looking for help?"

"Exactly."

"And what are you wanting achieve exactly?"

"A new independent institution. The Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories. Dedicated to pure research for sciences sake."

"An interesting idea. May I ask who else have you approached?"
"So far only my personal friends, that is Ted Knight, and Saul Erdel, you are my first cold call as you might say."

"That is compliment of a kind" Winston chuckled.

"It was meant as one." Meerson replied. "There is no one more I'd like to oversee the project."

"Me?"

"I know my limitations Professor."

"Now you do flatter me young man." Barnett coughed embarrassed. "Do you intend to fund this endeavour yourself – entirely."

"I have created a charitable trust, and that will enable donations to be made, I have approached the Wayne Foundation, for example - among others, but the keystone remains research, research into advanced science and technology – contact with industry comes after the fact, we will not be driven by the money men, but fully independent from them."

"So in short Professor Meerson, you are asking me to join you at your Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories in,.."

"Oversee Professor. The Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories needs an experienced man like yourself." Meerson explained. "And we intend to based here in Metropolis – at least to start with."

"I see, it's quite a mouthful isn't it?" Barnett chuckled. "I have to say I am interested in your proposal."

"Why don't you come down to the premises I have found, I can talk you through what I plan to build."

"Very well – that is a good place to start." Barnett said.

"I hope you will. I hope you'll join us at S.T.A.R. Labs. The future starts here."

-'S'-

"Kent why won't you answer this door!" Lois Lane demanded. "This is the third time tonight I've tried to talk to you! What are you doing in there?"

Superman closed in on the Calcutta, his speed slowing to subsonic, his body damp with sweat; flying transatlantic twice in one night had been a real effort for him. Grimly he acknowledged the reality of circumstances, reflecting on his meeting with both President Roosevelt and the mysterious Doctor Occult.

He guessed Lois must have had hammered on the door of his cabin earlier to no avail. Clark Kent was not there – Superman had been in North America, and he had not returned in time. His transatlantic flight had taken longer than he expected and this journey had been harder than his last. Then flying back and forth from Baronta, the liner that had taken Lois and Clark to Europe from the States, had been easier. Since then France had fallen and Superman had been beaten senseless by Wotan's growing Krypt-magic power.

Superman dropped to deck of the boat, hiding in the shadows he threw his voice. One of the stage tricks he had mastered as a boy.

"Lois." he coughed. "I'm feeling really sea sick." Clark apparently said from inside the cabin.

Lois made a face, her frustration self evident.

Superman suddenly made a loud noise with his fist on the metal. Lane turned her attention distracted, it was all the time he needed. Superman dashed from the shadows into the night and back around into his cabin. The wind of his passing whipping Lois's hair, and she span around wearing a confused expression as she felt the sudden gust from the sea around her.

Frowning once more Lois hammered on the door of Clark's cabin, the door opened this time. Clark saw first her surprise then her annoyance.

He stood half naked an blanket around his body, still damp from perspiration. His muscles limp and his belly distended he looked nothing like his Superman alter-ego.

"I'm sorry I was asleep. I don't feel too good." Clark said, protesting about sea sicknesses once more. "What's so important."

Lois opened and closed her mouth. "I was worried." She said finally.

Clark concluded she could see his tiredness for herself and had accepted yet another lie from him.

"I'm sorry." Clark said weakly. He was actually feeling the strain of maintaining his distorted posture, he realised he wanted to rest – to get some sleep.

Lane shook her head. He knew his timidity exasperated her.

"Look at this." She told him, passing him a not so recent copy of the New York Times. Lois undoubtedly had been working through whatever papers from home she could find.

Clark quickly read the open pages. "Ambassador to London, Joseph Kennedy is of the opinion Democracy is defeated in Europe, and England can only sue for peace, to fight on would invite only defeat." Clark said. He could see why Lois was angry.

"It's no secret he doesn't believe FDR should run again." He added.

"If England falls does he think Hitler's ambitions end in Europe?" Lois asked, disgust evident in her voice.

"Of course they don't." Clark agreed. "I'm sorry Lois but I think I need to lay down." He returned the newspaper.

"Okay Okie." She said. Blushing she said. "You had me worried there for a while." Clark recognised this as a confession of sorts.

Lois explained herself. "I thought you had past out or something..." Clark understood why she had been so angry; in her mind he was a recently recovered amnesiac, back from the dead. It was uncomfortably close to the full truth of Superman's experiences. She only called him Okie when she was mad with him. "I stuffed my ears with cotton wool." He said. Thinking – that's not far from the truth too, the Krypt-magic of the war zone makes my head feel that way.

"Well get some rest." She said.

"I will." He smiled because he really meant it, and closed the cabin door, before uncharacteristically climbing into his bunk to sleep.

Sleep was a usually an unnecessary luxury; here and now it was one he would have happily forgone - but Superman had returned to the disputed territories of the battle for the Atlantic, here within the magic sphere of influence that Wotan possessed Superman was not himself. Since adolescence sleep had been optional, as an adult he had only felt the need to sleep when recovering from Kryptonite radiation and magic – the forces that could hurt him, and in the warzone he now understood he was being exposed to both.

The explosion rocked the merchant ship waking Clark Kent from his slumber. His first thought was for Lois. Kent sprang from the bed, his head covered in cold sweat, and his mind confused for a moment, before instinct took over, his hand closed around his costume and he acted.

Kent moved at superhuman speed, exiting his cabin, launching himself over the side and into the sea Clark dived into the cold dark waters of the Atlantic.

Superman emerged under the sea from a blur movement, and scanned the hull of the Calcutta above him. The explosion had torn into a section of the freighter amidships, she was taking on water.

Swimming forward like a torpedo himself, his ears searching for the tell tale hum of the U-boat, the author of this disaster. Locating the aggressor moments later with his still superhuman senses, Superman turned his attention back to the stricken freighter. He was acutely aware he no longer possessed the same advantages he had previously enjoyed. Had he not need to sleep, had he been awake; had the Krypt-Magic of Wotan not made him tired - dulling his senses, Superman felt sure the attack Submarine would never have crept upon them; but it had and above Lois, the crew and ship were in danger.

Grabbing the torn metal skin of the merchantman's hull Superman began bending the metal back into place. Closing the gash, but the damage was too great to completely mend by brute force alone, but at least the flow of water below decks was much reduced. This makeshift repair would have to suffice for now.

Superman turned to the U-boat itself. The submarine was actually hunting on the surface, it was quicker and safer for the boat to act like a surface craft, and it's crew could use deck mounted gun. In the darkness the low profile of the Mk VII U-boat made it hard to spot.

In real terms the diesel powered submarine was truly a boat that could submerse on it's limited batteries for short periods. The true submersible – a boat that could remain submerged indefinitely – or even most of the time had yet to be invented.

Superman burst out of the water and smashed into the 88mm deck gun his tremendous strength distorting the barrel. Around him the gun crew open fire with their hand guns, but Superman ignored the bullets, returning to the water he punched the first of the bow torpedo tubes bending the metal plate – again making firing impossible, in quick succession he repeated this a further three times. As he moved the water around the bow of the boat frothed like it was boiling. Then one last punch disabled the single stern tube. Superman's powerful hands grabbing and crippling the rudder apparatus and fouling the propellers.

Bursting from the sea angrily he returned to the listing freighter, and dropping to her stern superman began assisting the crippled ship pushing it towards Lisbon, and out of the range of small arms fire from the crippled submarine. Only then did he return to patch the holed hull.

Tearing a section of deck free Superman welded the steel plate over the holed hull, his heat vision flashing under the water, bonding the metal to hole and sealing the gash shut.

As he laboured he could hear the pumps working to clear the hold of water. Satisfied he landed on deck where Lois Lane was stood.

"Superman!" she called out to him. He could hear the surprise in her voice. That was to be expected. "Superman?" He recognised that tone; inevitable questions would undoubtedly pour from the Girl Reporter. He landed beside her.

"I can't stay Lois." He said. His decision once again to return to the double life of Clark Kent and Superman returned to haunt him; he looked into the violet eyes of the woman who he must continue to deceive.

"What are doing here?" She asked.

Ever the journalist he thought to himself, I must shut her down and quickly. "I was curious where my two favourite new hounds had got to." He replied with a light hearted laugh, at the same time turning away.

"Superman." Lois said hoarsely. He heard the anger and the defeat in her voice as he imagined her watching Superman taking off into the night, wanting more of the Man of Tomorrow; angry that he had not stayed. As soon as he was certain the night hid him from her, Superman turned and raced back to his cabin aboard the Calcutta.

Clark Kent joined Lois Lane as she stared out into the night.

"I guess we are very lucky to have Superman as a friend." He said, acting as if he had been a mere bystander. Hoping Lois had not noticed his absence.

Lois looked back at Clark. He felt her hand reach out and touch his face. "Okie you've an dirty mark just there." She said. "And you smell like diesel and the sea."

"I guess I at least smell like a Sailor." He replied, as her hand ran through the salt crust that had formed on his air dried hair.

Lois fixed him with a lingering stare, and he wondered what she was thinking.

-'S'-

Diana Princess of Themyscira sat across from Steve Trevor, where as he sat opposite the woman he thought to be Diana Prince. He had been waiting for her in a private sitting room in the American Embassy in Berlin. It was well appointed, baroque European elegance, a fire burned beneath a carved marble surround. She past him the envelope containing her orders.

"Lieutenant Prince, how did you get here so quickly?" Captain Trevor asked.

"Wonder Woman was travelling in this direction Sir."

Trevor nodded, hiding his surprise well – but Diana could see it. He quickly opened the sealed envelope. Darnell had included instructions for his eyes only. Trevor read the hand written missive and crumpled the note into his hand and threw it directly into the flames.

"What is Wonder Woman doing in Europe?" Trevor asked her.

Diana sensed a hidden agenda behind his question. She felt herself doubting him, and with these thoughts came guilt, because she knew Steve Trevor was her dead namesakes son. Diana Rockwell Trevor – aviator, lost at sea, her remains lay entombed in a marble temple on Themyscira.

"She seeks the Hand of Mars." Diana replied honestly.

"And so does the Gestapo, the SS and probably Hitler himself when he has a spare minute." Steve said coolly.

Diana looked back at him, she wondered how her blue eyes appeared to him through her unnecessary glasses.

" Lieutenant, do you mind if I call you Diana?" Steve asked with a warm smile.

She nodded. "Whatever you feel is appropriate Sir."

"How would you describe your relationship with Wonder Woman."

"That's quite difficult." Diana replied. "I mean to say it's true I know her better than perhaps anyone else outside of Themyscira."

"Because of the time you have spent together?"

"Yes – you could say that." Diana agreed. "However I am sure Wonder Woman would extend the hand of friendship – a helping hand to anyone in need."

"You don't think you are in a special, privileged position – being close to a superhero as the papers like to call these costumed vigilantes?"

"No Sir, I don't see myself as special, if that makes sense."

"It does Diana – but not everyone gets to ride in a plane that defies the laws of science as we understand them or see the Amazon's magical island paradise."

Diana smiled. "You did Sir."

Trevor laughed. "Yes I did, I guess we have that much in common, we both owe Wonder Woman a debt of gratitude – as does the United States." He paused – leaning forward his body language changed becoming more serious and intense, subtleties that Diana's Amazon training recognised. "Diana I am sure Colonel Darnell briefed you, but to be clear you are here because Military Intelligence believes you can recognise Nazi spies and perhaps agents of the Brotherhood, people you may have already met, identifying them could prove crucial."

Diana nodded. Trevor continued. "To that end you are to accompany me on Embassy related business, both professionally and socially." He added looking her up and down. "I hope you packed a party dress."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because an opportunity presents itself – tonight.

"I have obtained an invitation to Herr Göring's party to celebrate his elevation to 'Reich Marshal of the Greater German Reich' – making him effectively Hitler's chosen successor, as well as commander of the German Airforce."

"What if they are there? I mean if they recognise me?" Diana asked, even though instinctively she believed the aura of the Proteus Mask would prevent this.

"I'm not going to pretend Lieutenant – this role has it's dangers, but as Colonel Darnell explained to you, your cooperation goes a long way to dispel any doubts, he and others might have about you – in the light of your past associations."

Diana appreciated the implicit threat, she was being watched as well as being used. Such was the politics of the Patriarch's World.

Trevor quickly moved to reassure her however saying. "Besides from experience I have found prisoners recognise their jailers more often than visa versa – be ready for twenty hundred hours."

Diana chose a full length blue evening dress, Trevor met her in black tie, his civilian dinner jacket obfuscating his military rank.

As they travelled by car Trevor briefed Diana further.

"In addition to any persons with connections to the Brotherhood, we're on the look out for an agent code-named 'Zytal' – an American who has joined the Nazi cause. Chatter has him close to Göring's inner circle. I'm hoping that he will be at this shindig."

Arriving at Göring's Luftwaffe's headquarters, they joined the other guests arriving for drinks for the larger party that was to follow the formal dinner which had been the province of the Nazi hierarchy.

"Remember Diana." Trevor said in a whisper. "We're interested in anyone you recognise."

Circulating Diana was able to utilise her command of the German language, studying the many tongues of Partiarch's World had been part of her education, now she employed her considerable skills. Her trained mind with photographic recall sifted through the names and biographies of the political and military officers the Embassy had given her to review. Her enhanced senses allowed her to sample multiple conversations simultaneously. Diana listened for any mention of the Hand, or it's pseudonyms. Much of the talk concentrated on the air campaign which had begun almost a week before, the Luftwaffe had begun bombarding channel shipping, and coastal towns of England.

The Luftwaffe's top brass were confident the Royal Air Force would be broken quickly.

Diana could sense the underlying tension and excitement. "England will fall like France." One man laughed. Another said. "The Luftwaffe will crush the RAF, just as they did Poles, and the French."

Göring himself was a large man decked out in an ostentatious uniform, his swagger spoke of bullish confidence, and despite his girth he loved the appellation the Iron Man, but truthfully his glory days as a fighter ace of the Great War were long gone. He spoke of Hitler. "The Fuhrer told me that England, in spite of her hopeless military situation, still shows no signs of willingness to come to terms. So we must prepare to, and if necessary to carry out, a landing operation against her. The aim is to eliminate the English Motherland as a base from which the war against the Third Riech can be continued, and, if necessary," he said with a cold smile, "to occupy the country completely.

"To achieve this the RAF must be beaten down in its morale, it must be broken so that England can no longer display any real opposition to the German crossing."

"Reich Marshal, as confident as I am in the effective superiority of the Luftwaffe, I would remind you that the British have also been developing means of detecting aircraft using microwave radiation."

Diana's attention shifted from the wider room to this speaker's voice in particular, his accent betrayed him to her. He was an American. She tugged on Trevor's sleeve, the Captain turned, he fingers directed him across to where Göring was stood.

Trevor lips tightened and his hands clasped into fists. "Hell that is Lex Luthor." he said quietly.

Diana wasn't sure who Luthor was, but Trevor knew him. She could tell. Was this the mysterious agent Zytlar? "He is an expert in air warfare?" Diana guessed.

"Yes that's the same guy – you're right." Trevor replied. "He's gained a few pounds, but I wouldn't forget that cocky red head, I met him at Metropolis Field when he was working for Campbell Scott – he's a genius, of course – and no older than you. Must have got his hair back, last I heard he was bald as a coot."

Trevor evidently assumed Diana had recognised the young scientist; then again she was aware at this distance Trevor would not be able to eavesdrop on the conversation. "You did good Diana." He took a drink from his Martini. "I didn't know you had an interest in aviation."

"I greatly admire the achievements of Amelia Earhart, Jacqueline Cochran, and Diana Trevor." She saw the reaction of recognition in the man's features. "Indeed all the women aviation pioneers." Diana debated the truth for a moment and added it. "I was as it happens named after your mother." She confessed.

Establishing the identity of Themyscira's fallen foreign champion, the woman who's name she bore, has been a priority for her, while learning at the same time about America's leading heroine pioneers in science, industry, and endeavour.

Steve looked at Diana, she saw in his face surprise and for a brief moment vulnerability, a ghost of a little boy who had lost a parent.

Then the spy that was the actor regained control; back to business his expression told her as he cracked a smile and said. "We should mingle."

Diana did exactly that, she remained alert for anything that might help in her quest.

Agent Zytlar did not disappoint. He left the Reich Marshal and was joined by a tall thin man, with a long dark hair and beard, who lent close to speak to him. "I have prepared the metal as we discussed."

Zytlar nodded, there was something about his bearing that told Diana he was not happy to share his work with the bearded man. Her ability to read intentions was almost as reliable as the grip of the Lasso of Truth.

"The Annunki engine is useless as it is." Zytlar-Luthor stated. "I hope this material proves valid in testing."

Diana recognised the Typhon's adopted name. If these men had knowledge of the hidden realms then she must look more closely at their work. Diana suspected they might be linked to the Brotherhood as was the reptilian race. She determined Wonder Woman would have to investigate this man further.

-'S'-