The Winds of God

by pat weakley

Book Two-The Daily Sentinel has been bombed. Britt's investigation of who did it is complicated by the fact that he must keep his activities as the Green Hornet secret from his two grown children who are home for the holidays.

5. Battle at the Red Knight

Combat at the Red Knight

Chapter Five

I

Danielle ran until her lungs burned from the freezing air. When she couldn't run anymore, she walked, head down, watching her feet kick through the newly fallen snow. White against her black boots, it would cover her foot up to the ankle and then fall away in slow motion. She didn't care where she was going, or how long she wandered. She just kept on moving, trying to escape her family secret. A steel railing appeared, blocking her path. Finally she looked up and saw slate grey waves restlessly slipping over half submerged boulders. It wouldn't take much to climb over the railing and leap into that cold, cold water.

She hated the cold. She sniffed and rubbed the tears away with an ungloved hand. Her nose was running. She started to use the sleeve of her coat when her mother's voice from years ago, centuries ago it seemed, told her to use something else. She rummaged through her pockets, her purse was back there, until she found one, crumpled, previously used. It didn't matter, it was dry and one corner was still usable. It would do the job. It would have to.

She blew her nose noisily, then pushed the hair that had fallen free from the dozens of hair pins that had held it in place away from her face. Slowly she realized that the sun had risen and that the sky was a startling shade of blue. Off in the distance a winter sailor skimmed the sun flecked water under a bright red and yellow sail. High above a gull wheeled lazily through the air. She had no idea how long she had been standing there when she heard a voice behind her.

"Nice morning."

Danielle turned around," Hi, Uncle Frank," she said, greeting F.P. Scanlon, an old family friend. "Did Dad tell you what happened?"

Scanlon nodded. "Yes, he did."

"Everything?"

Again he nodded.

She wrapped her arms around herself. "How long have you known about Dad's..." she hesitated, searching for the right word. "About his 'hobby'?" she bit out.

Frank shrugged uncomfortably, "A long time," he admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. "Why didn't he tell me?" She bit back the burning tears that were filling her eyes. "My whole life has been a lie. Why didn't he tell me?" she asked, feeling the pain coming back over her. She fell into his arms, wanting to resist, yet badly needing something to anchor her.

"Dani," he said, "Nobody lied to you, especially your father."

"But..." she began, "He never told me, he just let me go through life believing that I..., that he, was something he really wasn't," she sobbed against his chest.

"Dani, that wasn't a lie. Everything your fathers has ever done was done because he believed it was right," he said.

"But he's the Green Hornet. A monster, a criminal, a gangster who has the whole city afraid of him. All those editorials, everything he ever taught me about justice, about doing what's right. He lied to me," she cried, pulling away from him.

Frank grasped her firmly. "No, it wasn't a lie. Britt is a very good man. Everything he has ever done was done in the name of justice. Including the Green Hornet. You have no idea how it was when your grandfather died. All around him Britt's world was falling apart. He couldn't stand by to see the city, his city, continue to be corrupted by the same men who destroyed his father. He became the Green Hornet so that he could fight those people who were using the law to further their illegal ends. The Green Hornet is just a tool that your father uses to reach people that the law can't," he explained.

"You want me to believe that he's really some kind of masked crime fighter?" she said shakily. "I'm not a kid. That kind of stuff is only in comic books. It's not for real."

Frank shook his head sadly. "Maybe comic book heroes aren't real, but your father is." He smiled sadly. "Don't you think this world could use some real heroes?'

She nodded slightly. "Dad was always my hero. I've always looked up at his. I guess every little girl looks up to her father. But a mask? That's just too unbelievable."

"Unbelievable, that just about describes your father and what he's done, especially as the Green Hornet. A lot of people owe their lives to that so-called master criminal," he explained.

"If this is all true, why didn't he tell me? Why did he let Mike Axford tell us all those stories about how evil the Green Hornet was? Or was that all part of some elaborate ruse to keep John and me in the dark?" she said bitterly.

"That wasn't part of any secret plan to keep the two of you in the dark. Mike Axford still doesn't know a thing about Britt and the Green Hornet being the same man. Even if he was told the truth, I don't think he'd believe it."

"I still can't understand why we weren't told," Danielle insisted.

"You weren't told because Britt wanted to put that part of his life behind him. I think he wanted to forget about that part of his life. It made it easier for him to accept the fact that part of his life was over. You see, he actually was a victim of an attempted gangland execution. That part of the story was true, at least as far as we went. Only it wasn't Britt Reid who was the target, it was the Green Hornet. Britt allowed his determination to get the man responsible for his father's death get the better of him and he nearly died because of that. Kato left because he felt responsible for not stopping Britt, so that even if Britt had been physically able to be the Green Hornet again, he couldn't. Not without Kato."

"And then Lee came along and started it all up again," Danielle guessed.

"Yes, that's basically what happened. Kato had been murdered and Lee needed Britt's help to get his killers," Scanlon explained. "In a way things went full circle. The man who was behind Kato's murder was not only the same man who crippled your father during the attempted execution of the Green Hornet, but was the one who poisoned your grandfather while he was in prison."

"That's unbelievable," she said.

"It's the truth," Scanlon said simply.

Danielle studied him closely for a few minutes. "Did you know about Dad and the Green Hornet from the beginning?" she asked.

"No, not from the beginning. At first I believed like everybody else that the Green Hornet was a criminal. I didn't go so far as to think of him as a master criminal. That I did feel was too farfetched even though Mike Axford kept on harping about it in every article he wrote on the Hornet. I basically felt that while the Green Hornet seemed to be a danger to the underworld, he was no threat to the average law abiding citizen. After all, in a way the Green Hornet was making my life easier because every crook who ran up against him wound being left for the police along with enough evidence to convict them. Of course Axford was claiming this was the Green Hornet's way of eliminating his competitors, and after a hornet seal was found at the murder of a major crime lord, I was inclined to agree with him."

"What changed your mind?"

"It happened when I was investigating a counterfeit label printing scheme in which a gang was putting designer labels on bogus beauty products and then selling those goods at a fraction of the cost of the real stuff. The worse thing about the scheme was that the bogus products were dangerous and some women were seriously hurt because of it. Unfortunately, I wasn't very good at sneaking around and got caught. I learned a lot about their scheme including the fact that they had used a counterfeit hornet seal to pin a competing gang lord's murder on the Hornet. They were just about to do the same thing to me with the same murder weapon when the Green Hornet arrived just in time to save my life."

"So that got you to thinking about the other crimes pinned on the Green Hornet?"

"Exactly. The more I investigated the Green Hornet, the more obvious it was to me that we were on the same side."

"And then he finally told you who he really was?"

"Actually that took some time, but I was working with Britt a lot and after seeing the Green Hornet a few times, I started noticing some similarities between the two men. The Green Hornet had to be wealthy enough to afford the car and all the gadgets, and when you consider physical characteristics such as height, weight and physical condition, things start to narrow down quite a bit. Also there aren't that many men around with light green eyes. That was the dead give away to me."

"Why didn't other people think of that?"

"Because they would have to consider that either Britt Reid was really a criminal or that the Green Hornet wasn't. That's Mike's blind spot. In his eyes Britt can do no wrong, and the Green Hornet can do no right. Besides not many people have the presence of mind to really study the Green Hornet when they meet him. All they see is the mask. Just like with a police officer, all you really see is the badge and the uniform."

"So what did you do? Did you just tell him that you thought he was the Green Hornet?"

"Yes, when I felt confident enough in my evidence, I confronted him with it. At first he tried to convince me I was wrong but finally in the end he admitted that I was right."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. I think in a way he was relieved. He knew I was getting close, and he was glad that I was willing to listen to him instead of publically accusing him and having him arrested."

"Why didn't you? Even if you didn't think he was really a criminal, why didn't you arrest him and leave the decision up to the courts? I would think that would have been your duty as District Attorney," Danielle asked, knowing that Scanlon was normally very strict in adhering not only to the spirit of the law but to the letter of it as well.

"Because I had to give him the chance that I denied your grandfather."

"What?"

"I was the man who prosecuted Henry Reid, your grandfather."

Danielle stared at him, her mouth agape. "How did it happen?" she finally said when she was over her shock enough to say something.

"It was during my first term in office. I was a newcomer to this city and didn't know that the people who ran my campaign did it because the party machine needed somebody with a clean reputation to do their dirty work for them," Scanlon admitted bitterly. "I had a few early successes, but they were engineered to make me feel overconfident and to make me look good in the public's eyes.

"Then they handed me Henry Reid's case. I felt from the start that there was something wrong about the case. Henry Reid didn't strike me as a killer. I couldn't understand why they wanted to push the case through the courts so quickly. I didn't know then that most of the evidence had been manufactured. The last thing they wanted me to do was to take my time to review and double check it.

"My so-called friends convinced me that my reservations were just a result of inexperience. They told me that if I didn't pursue the case it would be the same as admitting that I was an incompetent. Then they started applying pressure, saying that if I failed to get a murder conviction they would make sure that I never worked in the legal profession again.

"I should have taken the hint and quit instead of prosecuting a man whose guilt I had doubts about, but I didn't. I kept on hoping that somehow I would be able to secure a more lenient sentence, that I would uncover some evidence that would prove Henry's innocence. What I didn't know was that I was just part of the window dressing. Your grandfather never had a chance. The judge was as corrupt as the rest of the city government and most of the jury had been bought off. Even if I had not appeared a single day in court, the verdict would have still been guilty and the sentence would still have been for the maximum."

"So you see," he continued, "I had to give him the chance that was denied your grandfather, because I felt he had the potential to be the greatest force for good this city had ever seen."

"But he knew that you were the man who put his father into prison." Danielle pointed out, "I would have thought that he would have been worried that you would do the same thing to him."

"I think that's why I told him I knew about him being the Green Hornet. I needed to gain his trust."

"But why?" Danielle asked.

"Because although I felt Britt Reid was a good man, I was afraid that if there wasn't anyone around to give him some guidance, and you must remember that he was quite young then, that he might be tempted to cross that thin line he was dancing along and actually become a criminal, or worse lose further faith in the system and decide to become judge, jury and executioner of the people he was fighting," he explained.

"I don't see how the two of you could have trusted each other, "she said.

"I don't think your father trusted me at first, but he did need somebody on the inside of the police, somebody who could give him information on suspects and evidence that he couldn't get any other way. In return for keeping his secret, Britt, as the Green Hornet would turn over to the police major crime figures with enough evidence to send them away for a very long time. The trust came slowly, but it helped that eventually I was able to uncover the evidence that proved that your grandfather had been framed and I was able to clear his name because of it."

"And so the two of you benefitted from this little arrangement of yours," Danielle said.

"Yes, we both benefitted and so did this city. We didn't always see eye to eye. Such as the time when Britt was framed for a murder that happened at his own birthday party. He chose to run and when I tried to stop him, he slugged me." Scanlon ran a hand along his jaw, remembering the force of Britt's blow. "I'm surprised he didn't break my jaw. But Britt and the Green Hornet never let me down, even sometimes at great personal cost. He was always able to come through for me. I feel very fortunate to have him as one of my closest friends."

"And so you want me to give him a chance now," Danielle said.

"Yes I do," Scanlon said. "Everyone is worried sick about you. Let me take you home," he urged.

"I can't. Not yet. I need some time to think," she answered.

"Will you at least let me take you to my place and let your family know that you're safe?" he asked. "Grace wouldn't mind having you over. She always loves to have company, even if it's unannounced."

Danielle hesitated. She was tired and cold and needed some time to absorb everything she had found out.

"If you don't want to stay with Grace and me, you could at least make a few phone calls to some of your friends and see if one of them will put you up for few days," Scanlon suggested.

Finally Danielle relented. "Don't worry," she said, "Staying with you would be fine." She smiled slightly. "Maybe you can help me figure out the right thing to do, just like you do for my father,"she said.

II

Danielle's soft mouth hardened into a tight frown as Lee walked across the aerobic center's wooden floor. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Lee tried a charming grin. "I thought I'd try out a class here," he answered lightly. His dark eyes quickly took in the twin crescents of sweat that had soaked her leotard under her breasts and followed the dampness down to the small swell of her stomach.

She blushed angrily. "Fine. The next class starts in 15 minutes," she snapped.

Lee forced his eyes upward, only to be distracted by a bead of sweat rolling down her long graceful neck before disappearing between the swell of breasts restrained by a brightly colored exercise bra.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, buster," Danielle said as she pulled an oversize sweatshirt over her head.

"Sorry, I've never been to a women's aerobic class before. I didn't know women sweat," he said, adding mentally, In such interesting ways.

Danielle glared at him, making him wonder if she had read his mind. "That's the only way you can tell if you've been working hard enough," she said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that. Good workout today?" he asked.

"It's always good. You ought to try it someday. See if you can keep up with the 'weaker sex'," she challenged.

"Maybe I will," Lee said, trying to keep up with her as she hurriedly walked through the building's back door.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"Mr. Scanlon said you were here. I thought I'd drive you back since he said you walked here." He looked up at the heavy grey clouds in the sky. "It might snow again."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I already have a ride."

"Yeah, Mr. Scanlon said that you were going out after your aerobics class. I thought we might talk a little."

"We can talk after I get back to Uncle Frank's house. My ride will be here any minute now."

"Mr. Scanlon said you were planning on getting back late. I need to talk to you now," Lee insisted.

"Is Dad alright?" she asked.

"He's okay, and so is your mother."

"Than why do you need to talk to me now instead of later? Are you two going out tonight?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah. I think you should make up with your father."

"Does it look that bad?"

Lee shrugged. "I don't think so, but that's not why I think you should talk to him. He's worried about you, and I feel kind of responsible about what happened. It would take a load off him, if you could just talk to him," he pleaded.

Danielle angrily turned to him. "You know, you should feel responsible for this whole mess. If it hadn't been for you my father wouldn't be taking his own life into his hands like this."

"Yeah, it is my fault, it's all my fault, but dammit haven't you noticed the change in him. I bet you have. I know John has. He says it's like your father is a whole different man. That's because of the Green Hornet. All these years he was really miserable not being the Hornet. Now that he's doing it again, it's like he's a new man now. I don't think I could stop him now even if I wanted to."

"My God, Lee, he's too old to be running around this city like some kid in a Halloween mask. What if he gets killed or seriously hurt? Are you going to abandon him like your father did?" she demanded. The look of pain on Lee's face made her instantly regret her harsh words. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean it that way."

A honking horn from a small blue car caught her attention. "That's my ride. I got to go now." She bit her lip uncertainly. "Give me some more time to think." She grasped his arm hurriedly as the car honked again. "Tell Mom and Dad I love them. For God's sake take care of my father. And yourself too," she added quickly before trotting away toward the waiting car.

III

"What do you think Ibn Ubayy wants?" Kato asked as he guided the Black Beauty to the importer Hamidi's house.

"I have no idea," the Green Hornet answered. "We should've have gone to see him right after seeing his aide at Goode's church."

"Couldn't be helped, besides you were hurt, we had to take care of your arm."

"You're probably right, but if we had, we could've avoided that whole scene with the kids. Now Ibn Ubayy's had the chance to cover his tracks. We haven't a snowball's chance in Hell of proving he was behind Goode's murder."

"Yet, he was the one who tipped the police that his aide was at Goode's church. Maybe the aide was a renegade just like Ibn Ubayy claimed," Kato suggested.

"Maybe, we'll find out when we talk to him."

"Strange thing though, him asking Britt Reid to contact the Green Hornet for him."

"Very odd," the Green Hornet agreed. "He wouldn't say why he wanted to talk to the Green Hornet. He just asked me to trust him, although after Goode's murder, I don't see how I can."

"I guess that's the handy thing about the Green Hornet, you'll find out what he wants anyway."

"Damn right," the Green Hornet said, a harshness creeping into his voice.

Kato glanced back at the Green Hornet, noticing him shifting uneasily in the back seat. "How's your arm?" he asked.

"It's fine."

"You sure?" Kato pressed, receiving a sharp glare in return. "Have you talked to Danielle yet?"

"No. She's still not talking to me. She's still too shook up. Casey and Frank tell me I've got to give her a little more time." The Green Hornet sighed heavily. "A Hell of a Christmas this is turning out to be. At least John seems to be taking the news well. He was always the more sensible of the two."

"Yeah, he begged me to let him check out the Black Beauty."

"I didn't know that. What did he say?"

"He was really interested in everything. He even had some suggestions how we could improve things and even offered to help out with them. He even suggested that we think about a new car. This one's fine, but a chance to build a new one..."

"For a new Green Hornet," the Green Hornet interrupted.

"I don't understand."

"I'm afraid John's thinking about stepping into the role."

"That's an idea. You know, keep it in the family, make it a sort of family tradition."

"No way. I'm not about to let that happen. This is my curse, I'm not about to wish it on my own son. When I die, the Green Hornet dies with me."

"But why? You've told me yourself that you're proud of what you've done as the Green Hornet. The city needed the Green Hornet when you first put on that mask, just like it needs him now. That won't change in the future. If he can't do it, who will?"

"No one. There are other ways to do what the Green Hornet does. Other cities don't have the Green Hornet and they do fine without him or some other fool wearing a mask. If you're worried about what might happen to you when I decide to give this up permanently, don't be, that's why I'm training you at the Daily Sentinel. If you're not happy with that . . . "

"No, that's not it at all. I love what I'm doing at the Sentinel, I wouldn't ever want to give it up."

"Then why are you wanting to continue this? Why are you pushing for John to come into it?" the Green Hornet demanded.

"I'm not pushing. It's just that I think it's important to him. And it's important to me."

"Why?"

"Because it's a way for me to fight crime."

"You could do that as a cop."

"It's not the same."

The Green Hornet studied the passing scene for a moment, then quietly said, "I know what you mean. There's something very seductive about what we're doing, isn't it? There's a kind of rush, an excitement in what we do, chasing around the city in this car, snubbing our noses at the cops, being feared by the most dangerous criminals in town. It's addictive, like some sort of drug. Your father always said that I got 'on the jazz' too much, that I enjoyed playing 'head games' too much. He was right. I do. I thought I had gotten over it, but now I know I haven't. I couldn't stop before and it almost killed me, and, God forgive me, but I don't think I can give it up again, even if it might kill me this time."

"I understand what you're saying, but I don't think John would succumb to that kind of temptation. He strikes me as a level headed guy. I think he'd make a good Green Hornet."

"You don't understand. I'm not worried about John letting the Green Hornet get to his head. I know he would make a good Green Hornet. If I had to choose someone to follow in my footsteps, he would be the one I'd chose. The problem is that I've lost so many people close to me, including your father. If John chose to become the Green Hornet . . . " He swallowed hard. "I don't want to bury my own son."

"I understand sir," Kato said softly.

For several minutes there was an uncomfortable silence between the two men, lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly a familiar vehicle rocketed past them, the desert camouflaged humvee, still bearing the singe marks from the Black Beauty's rockets.

Kato shot back to the Green Hornet, "Do you want to go after them?" he asked.

"No, they're heading away from Nasser's place. Something's happened there."

The importer's store was completely on fire by the time the Green Hornet and Kato arrived. Nasser and his pajama-clad family huddled across the street staring fearfully at the ruins of their home. Ibn Ubayy came to the curb as the Black Beauty pulled up.

"What happened?" the Green Hornet asked as he motioned for the Arab leader to get into the car.

"I don't know," he answered. "I was arguing with Ibrahim. I told him he must give himself up to the authorities, that what he had done was wrong and that he was endangering my mission here. He wouldn't listen to me. None of them would."

"So they set the place on fire?" the Green Hornet asked.

"No. We were bombed. I don't know who did it, but it wasn't Ibrahim or his men." Ibn Ubayy shook his head sadly. "We were coming so close to a peace agreement and now this happens. Ibrahim is now even more convinced that violence is the only way."

"Do you know what they're planning on doing?"

"I'm not sure, however just before he and his men left Ibrahim said he would turn the devil's own weapon against himself. He said something about us all being martyrs for the jihad in a western sunrise. It doesn't make any sense to me." Ibn Ubayy said.

"Me neither," Kato commented.

The Green Hornet thought for a moment, then he remembered Lowrey's most recent report. "It does to me. Kato, head for the Red Knight building. West."

Screaming fire engines and police cars passed the Black Beauty as it raced for the nearest on ramp to the freeway. Looking back at them the Green Hornet noticed one of the police cars make a wild U-turn and begin following them with strobing lights and a wailing siren.

"You want me to lose them, boss?" Kato asked.

"No, we could be heading into the middle of world war III. The more help we have the better," the Green Hornet answered.

"They won't be any help if a bunch of their buddies get in our way," Kato commented grimly.

The Green Hornet nodded. "Turn on the police scanner, let's see if we can pick up who's tailing us."

The Black Beauty's police scanner ran through a babble of excited voices, some of them barely understandable, but one voice came through clearly, mentioning being in hot pursuit. Obviously the police car behind them. The Green Hornet opened the panel behind the front seat and grabbed the mike from its holder. "What's the frequency?" he asked as he began sliding the tuner on the radio across the bands.

Kato gave him the numbers as the Green Hornet slid across to the position, "Attention Charlie 124, this is the Green Hornet. I know you are in pursuit of us."

"Kind of hard to miss them," Kato muttered under his breath.

Grimacing at Kato's comment the Green Hornet continued, "We are on a life or death mission. We are asking for your cooperation."

A voice filtered through the radio, "Are you asking us to believe that kind of crap. Life or Death? Isn't that kind of overdoing things?"

"I know it sounds melodramatic, but the fate of the entire city, if not the whole world hangs in the balance."

"That bad? Huh?" the voice returned sarcastically.

"I'm asking you to trust us. We need a clear path to our destination. You know we have the means to get rid of you or anyone else who gets in our way. All I'm asking is that you and your buddies stay out of our way. You can follow us if you want, but don't try to stop us."

"So what's the life or death situation?" the voice said, "Aliens invading the Earth, or a Russian invasion?"

"No, there's a band of Arab terrorists who are trying to steal an A bomb from a bunch of neo-Nazi's," the Green Hornet said, knowing that even he didn't believe his own words, never mind expecting his pursuers to believe him. He could picture the policemen in the car behind them doubling over in laughter at his outrageous explanation.

There was a long silence, then the voice returned. "That's mighty farfetched Hornet . . . "

"I don't care if you believe me, or not. Just stay out of my way or we will blast anyone who tries to stop us," the Green Hornet said harshly as he spotted other police cars charging up a nearby on ramp.

There was another long silence, but on the police scanner the Green Hornet heard rapid chatter on the police band as decisions were being made between police headquarters and the growing line of police cars behind them. "What will it be?" the Green Hornet demanded.

"We'll stay out of your way," the voice finally returned," but if this turns out to be some kind of wild stunt, your ass will be ours."

The Green Hornet shrugged even though he was aware that the officer on the other end could not see him, "Just stay out of our way," he said before keying off the mike.

"You are aware, my friend," Ibn Ubayy said, "that by bringing in the police, you may very well be captured by them."

"I know that, but I'd rather be in jail than be radioactive dust," the Green Hornet answered grimly.

Ibn Ubayy nodded in admiration. "His Majesty Prince Rafil said you would be a good man to seek if I needed help. He was right."

The Black Beauty traveled at top speed to the Red Knight building trailing an unusual parade of police cars behind it. While the Black Beauty usually traveled the streets unnoticed by design, now it led a pack of screaming and flashing police cars. All traffic on the freeway cleared quickly out of their way, quickly coming to a stop on the shoulder as drivers stared unbelievingly at the big black car and its entourage. The Green Hornet looked out behind them. He had never expected this to happen. Well, he mentally amended, he had envisioned a scene much like this many times, but with the Black Beauty cast as fleeing the pursuing police, not leading them into the fray. He just hoped that his hunch paid off, otherwise they'd look like idiots and have a near impossible chance at getting away as free men.

He wanted to put on a confident front in front of the Arab leader and, especially, Kato. However he had a nasty feeling in his gut that he was wading into something that was way over his head. He'd almost rather find nothing at the Red Knight than to wind up in the middle of a vicious fire fight between terrorists, neo-Nazi's and cops. Even with the Black Beauty's firepower, the Green Hornet was not some kind of super soldier of fortune, but a schemer and strategist who specialized in working in the background. Even his weapons and fighting techniques were designed to be non-lethal. Now he could be very well heading into the middle of a war, he might not be equipped either physically or mentally to win at all costs.

He tried to shake the chill that crept up his back and settled into his shoulders, making them as tight as a board. If his hunch was wrong, if Ibrahim had headed somewhere else, if he wasn't full of bull, they'd look like fools for only a little while. Then, like he told Ibn Ubayy, they'd all be radioactive dust. He tried to settle back in his seat, tried to force himself to relax, to prepare for what might be ahead of them. He glared surreptitiously at the Arab leader who stared ahead of them with a blood thirsty glint in dark eyes that shone over a great eagle's beak of a nose like some crazy bedouin going into battle. He could not relax, but at least Ibn Ubayy not being prone to idle chatter, didn't need to be entertained or amused. All in all, the Green Hornet thought glumly, he'd rather be in bed.

The Black Beauty sailed down the down ramp at top speed, nearly losing traction as it cut too wide and slipped on the loose dirt of the narrow shoulder. "I'd like it if we could make it in one piece," the Green Hornet commented wryly.

"Sorry, boss," Kato said. The Green Hornet glanced at Kato and noticed that the young man was enjoying this as much Ibn Ubayy. They're all nuts, he thought.

A police chopper flew low overhead, shaking the heavy car with the beat of its blades. Its brilliant searchlight turned the ground below it into a blue grey daylight as it skimmed above the ground heading toward the Red Knight building. As the Black Beauty crested a small hill a frozen hell appeared in the chopper's brilliant light . Amid mounds of snow and ice small knots of men locked in deadly combat appeared briefly as the light flashed over them only to disappear again into the darkness as the light swept on past them. Occasionally the sky above the building was lit by lightening-like flashes of light that sparked up from the ground only to die in fading spirals of smoke.

The Green Hornet's hunch had been on target, so nearly was a rocket as it snaked out of the darkness toward the chopper. At the last moment the chopper dived out of the way and headed for higher, safer air. Another smaller, lighter chopper flew out of nowhere. Spotting the DSTV markings on the light blue and white body, the Green Hornet swore under his breath. If Ibn Ubayy had not been on board, he would have called the pilot and read him a blistering riot act. Dedication to getting the news is one thing, getting killed in the process was another.

The DSTV chopper flew in low toward the Red Knight, then suddenly screamed skyward, a rocket close on its tail. Too close. The helicopter was enveloped in a nimbus of light and smoke. The Green Hornet found himself holding his breath, praying without words. The DSTV helicopter emerged from the explosion, not entirely in one piece, but still airborne, still under the pilot's control, if barely. It spun crazily out of sight. Beside the Green Hornet, Ibn Ubayy whispered words in Arabic. A bright flash of an explosion temporarily brightened the night sky.

"Inshallah," Ibn Ubayy murmured sadly. If God wills.

The Green Hornet shook his head in denial. No, not as God wills. This was not God's doing, but man's.

Kato glanced back at the Green Hornet, knowing that in Ibn Ubayy's presence he could not say a word about who might have on board the helicopter. He could say nothing, except, "They might have made it out before it exploded."

"We'll find out when we get there," the Green Hornet answered grimly.

Kato reluctantly slowed the Black Beauty as it raced along the winding lanes of the industrial park.

"Why are you slowing down?" Ibn Ubayy protested, "We must hurry. We must go faster," he demanded.

"Can't. I'm going as fast as I can. These roads are slippery. All the snow that melted during the day has turned into ice," Kato explained as the Black Beauty hit a slick patch, briefly slipping before regaining traction. "If we go any faster, we'll wipe out before we even get there."

The Green Hornet nodded in agreement. Their police escort had lost ground. The gap between them and the Black Beauty had been steadily growing with few of the police cars or their drivers able to keep up with the powerful rolling arsenal. Now it was widening even further as the slick roads made it even more dangerous to travel at high speed. Still, the first police car gamely kept up with them. The Green Hornet shook his head. He recognized the car from their first trip to the Red Knight. The cop, then he quickly corrected himself to cops as the light from the police chopper still circling the battleground illuminated two silhouettes, must be as crazy as they are.

"Kato," the Green Hornet said, "Stop when we reach the road just before the Red Knight. We'll pull off there. I want to send the scanner up to see if I can spot where Ibrahim or Hakenkrueze is. If we can take care of them, we'll be able to stop this battle."

"We could lose it if one of those nuts shoot at it," Kato pointed out.

"Maybe, but it can be replaced. I don't want to waste our time fighting everybody and his brother if we can take down the leaders first."

Kato drove the Black Beauty around the corner of the road the Green Hornet indicated and came to a stop in a parking lot just off the road. The police car behind them pulled in beside them. The rest of the police cars rushed past where they had pulled off, unaware that the leaders were no longer in front.

"Activate the Scanner generator," the Green Hornet said. A small electric motor set in the Black Beauty's trunk made a soft purring whine as a pair of doors opened up to allow the Scanner to rise up on its platform. "Send her up, Kato," he said. The small flying television camera lifted up with a gentle rotation, looking much like a miniature satellite. The Green Hornet nodded in satisfaction. He opened a pair of doors behind the driver's seat. "I'll take her from here," he said as he turned on the television monitor behind the doors and twisted a number of knobs.

Ibn Ubayy murmured beside him, "Ah, you Americans, always you have such wondrous devices."

The Green Hornet guided the scanner away in a low sweeping course toward the battleground around the Red Knight building. The Scanner was no more than a foot tall and less than six inches wide. It was small enough to be hardly visible in the darkness, but the Green Hornet kept it low, barely keeping it out of the tree branches. He didn't want to chance losing it, at least not until he found out what he needed.

The Scanner flew on, passing over a line of police cars. The Green Hornet noticed through the Scanner's light sensitive camera that one officer was down, and was being attended by another two, but so far there appeared to be no other injuries. Apparently unsure of whose side they were supposed to be on they had decided to wait for reinforcements and instructions from higher up. It was probably for the best, he thought. It looked like the contest was fairly even between Ibrahim's men and Hakenkrueze's. Hakenkrueze's men were better trained, and surely better armed, but Ibrahim's men were experienced fighters. Hakenkrueze's men were not. It was one thing to terrorize unarmed civilians, another to battle men to whom death was a religious honor.

Ibrahim's men and Hakenkrueze's had formed a battlefield among the low rolling hills of a small landscaped park that threaded between the buildings of the industrial park and the freeway. Not bothering using the exit ramp, Ibrahim and his men had driven straight across the parkland the bordered the freeway and had attacked the Red Knight building on its western side, away from the large parking lots that bordered it. The Green Hornet carefully moved the scanner near Ibrahim's men who had arranged themselves between the trees and rocks near the Red Knight building. Backed by a motley row of pickups, timeworn sedans and the Humvee that still bore the marks of the Black Beauty's rockets, Ibrahim's men presented a mismatched appearance. While many sported desert camouflage uniforms, as large a number wore heavy civilian winter clothing.

Hakenkrueze and his men had responded to the attack by forming a line with the Red Knight to their back. In contrast to Ibrahim's men, Hakenkrueze's formed a well-organized line. To a man they were well dressed in heavy winter camouflage uniforms and well armed with automatic weapons. Hakenkrueze stood proudly at the head of his men. His ascetic pale face was aglow with joy. Here was obviously something he had dreamed of doing all of his life. He paced among his men, his voice, filled with racial slurs and overblown oratory, urging his men to greater effort, to greater glory. Between the two groups a few men still moved painfully to their respective sides. There were others that lay unmoving, perhaps to never move again.

"I didn't know you had so many men with you," the Green said to Ibn Ubayy, "I thought you were on a peace mission."

"Some of them are, were, my men. Others belong to the Ayatollah and other delegates. There are many at the conference who would rather fight than talk peace. Too, there are those in this city who would willingly answer the call to fight the infidels," Ibn Ubayy answered.

"Too many," the Green Hornet said under his breath.

The Green Hornet took a chance to sweep the Scanner just to the south of the battle where the DSTV chopper went down. A fitful light guttered from the helicopter's remains but even without that the Green Hornet could see two men and a woman huddled beside a grouping of rocks that had been artfully arranged near a small ice-covered pond. One of the men rose to stare at the Scanner. The Green Hornet barely restrained his alarm. "It looks like Reid's son came out to catch the action," he said, keeping his voice carefully even. "There's a woman with them, too." He added.

"Reid's daughter?" Kato asked, trying to sound as matter fact as the Green Hornet.

"No," the Green Hornet replied, slowly, then a stray breeze pushed long dark hair away from the woman's face.

"It is Fatima, young Reid's fiancee," Ibn Ubayy supplied, looking over at the small screen.

"Why . . . ?" Kato asked.

"Damned if I know," the Green Hornet answered. He sent the Scanner flying back toward the Red Knight. "At least they and the pilot look in one piece. I hope they're smart enough to stay the hell out of things."

The Green Hornet signaled for the scanner to take a return flight closer to the Red Knight building. He had still not caught sight of Ibrahim and needed to know where he might be. Hakenkrueze looking upward caught sight of the Scanner on its return flight. Grinning wolfishly he pulled out an automatic pistol and began firing lazily at the flying television camera.

"Damn," the Green Hornet cursed as he pressed the emergency recall button to speed the Scanner back to safety. Then he spotted a stray movement in the shadow of the Red Knight. He moved to cancel the recall. The screen suddenly went blank.

"What happened?" Ibn Ubayy demanded.

"Yeah, what happened?" Kato echoed.

The Green Hornet shut off the television monitor with an angry snap. "Hakenkrueze shot it down," he answered disgustedly. "I think I might've spotted someone sneaking up to the Red Knight. Hakenkrueze took out the scanner before I could tell for sure," he added.

"What are we going to do?" Kato asked.

The Green Hornet glanced out his window. The police officers in the unit parked to their right had apparently tired of waiting for movement from the Black Beauty. One of the men, older with grizzled grey hair uneasily approached the black car with a night stick in his hand. The other man, much younger, Chinese by his looks, warily remained near the police car.

"I might as well tell everyone at the same time," he said as he stepped out of the Black Beauty with Ibn Ubayy scrambling out behind him. He met the older police officer as he neared the Black Beauty's passenger side. Kato stepped out the driver's side and approached from around the car's long trunk. He silently nodded to the young officer who stood between the two cars. The young officer glanced at his partner, unsure of what to do.

"The name's Robinson," the elder officer said to the Green Hornet, "My partner's name is Ching."

The Green Hornet nodded toward Ibn Ubayy, "This is Colonel Ibn Ubayy." With a tilt of his head he indicated Kato, "And my man, Kato."

"And you're the Green Hornet," Robinson said.

The Green Hornet nodded.

"So what's going on? I saw you send that gadget out, but I don't see it come back."

"It was a remote television camera with light-sensitive lenses. I was using it to see what was going on. Hakenkrueze took it out," he added with a grimace.

"Hakenkrueze? Isn't he the guy that's supposed to be the head of that APP group that's suspected of bombing the Daily Sentinel?"

"I don't know about the Sentinel connection, but there's a rumor that Hakenkrueze may have a nuclear bomb that he's planning on using in the Middle East."

"And that's why those other guys are out there," Robinson guessed, "To take it from him."

"Yes and use it to bomb the city. In revenge for the Ayatollah's murder."

Robinson gave a low whistle. "You're right about this being a life or death situation. Or worse. What did you see before Hakenkrueze blasted your gadget?" he asked.

The Green Hornet told him about the two battle lines drawn before the Red Knight. "I might have seen Ibrahim and one or more of his men trying to sneak into the building. I couldn't get a better look before I lost contact with the Scanner," he said in conclusion.

"So what are you planning on doing?" Robinson asked. "You've led us all into this mess. Now what?"

The Green Hornet shrugged. "Have you gotten on word on what police headquarters is planning?" he asked.

"They're planning on sending in the SWAT teams. They're the ones who're set up for wars, not us. The governor's being approached about sending in the National Guard. They're still not sure whose side we should be on, so there's talk we'll take everybody in and straighten it out afterwards."

"Good idea. I'm not even going to pretend that I'm anywhere near equipped to deal with two armies . . . " the Green Hornet began.

"Not even with that car?" Ching said.

"Not even with the Black Beauty. One shot from one of those rockets and we'd be dead. Just like people in the DSTV copter almost were."

"Almost were? Then they're okay?"

"Yes," the Green Hornet said without elaboration.

"So what are you planning on doing?" Robinson pressed.

"I want to get into the Red Knight. That's where Ibrahim is probably heading. If there is a nuclear device there, I want to make sure that he doesn't get it, and I plan take it out of Hakenkrueze's hands as well. Everything is happening on the park side of the building to the north and west. I'm planning on approaching from the east parking lot where the loading dock is. I have a 'gadget' that can open most doors. If that doesn't work, we can always use the Black Beauty's rockets."

"So that's what the three of you are planning on doing." Robinson turned to the Arab leader. "Aren't these your people? Can't you just tell them to put up their guns?" he asked.

"It is too late. Now they only wish to fight. To them this is a holy war. They will not listen to reason. Not until Ibrahim is defeated or dead. Then they will listen to me. But not until Hakenkrueze's men stop firing as well."

"And what about Hakenkrueze?" Robinson asked.

"Right now he's busy playing General, but if he gets wind of what Ibrahim is trying to do, he'll move to stop him. I'll have to make sure that whatever happens we're the ones who wind up with the device."

"And what about us?"

"You can do whatever you want. You should probably join up with the other cops."

"We could go with you."

The Green Hornet noticed with amusement the younger officer start at the suggestion. Obviously, he didn't agree with that idea. Shaking his head, the Green Hornet said, "No, you'll only be in the way. I'd have to look out after you instead of concentrating on what I'm doing."

"You might need some back up."

The Green Hornet allowed himself a smile. "Do you honestly think that you could handle something that I couldn't?" he asked.

Robinson answered the Green Hornet's smile. "Probably not, but we're sticking with you," he said with a shrug.

"As you wish, just stay out of our way," the Green Hornet said turning to climb back into the Black Beauty. "By the way," he added out of his open window, "No sirens. We want to approach unnoticed."

The scanner had shown that the police had cordoned off the road leading to the Red Knight building making the approach impossible from that direction. Instead the Green Hornet instructed Kato to take a roundabout route to the building by traveling along a winding road that led east instead of west toward the Red Knight. For a moment the police copter's lights slid over them, but it maintained a wary distance far above the ground in order to stay out of range of any further rocket fire.

Eventually they approached the Red Knight from the east and south. The road directly south of the Red Knight was blocked by police cars, but the south entrance to the parking lot of a small complex of small industry buildings was clear. The Black Beauty drove along a narrow road between two buildings until it reached a low median that separated the road from the south parking lot of the Red Knight.

"Your car is too low," Ibn Ubayy commented, "I don't think you can cross it."

"The Black Beauty's undercarriage is armored, nothing can be hurt. Except," he said as Kato forced the car over the median and back down the other side with a loud thump of its tail, "The ride's damn rough."

. The Green Hornet glanced back at the police car behind him. With amusement he watched it slow down at the median and then hesitate. Finally they appeared to decide not to risk destroying the oil pan and turned around.

The Black Beauty came to a stop near the loading dock at the rear of the building. Although the battle raged on the other side of the building, Hakenkrueze had posted some men on the loading dock side. The bullets from their guns pinged and banged against the Black Beauty without damage.

"Put them to sleep, Kato," the Green Hornet ordered.

A door set near the bottom edge of the Black Beauty's grill opened, revealing a nozzle. The green hornet gas spewed out until the attackers fell to the ground.

"Are they dead?" Ibn Ubayy asked.

"No, only asleep. I avoid killing as much as possible," the Green Hornet answered.

"Admirable," Ibn Ubayy said. "To have such weapons and desire not to kill."

Kato flipped open the armrest to his right between the two front seats to reveal a number of buttons and switches. "Do you want to try the rockets first?" he asked.

"No, not yet. We might need them later. I'll use the Sting first," the Green Hornet answered as he climbed out of the car. Ibn Ubayy followed him out, as did Kato.

The Green Hornet checked the door near the loading dock and was not surprised that it was locked. He waved Kato and Ibn Ubayy out of his way as he pulled the Hornet sting to its full length. "Watch your ears," he warned Ibn Ubayy.

The Hornet sting began a low whine that turned into an earsplitting hum as it began to pound at the heavy door with ultra sonic waves. It kicked and bucked in the Green Hornet's hands. He could feel the vibration in his hands and all the way through his arms and shoulders. Simple locks and doors only required a low setting and a short time, but heavier doors tested the limits of the powerful weapon and its user.

Finally the hum crescendoed into a scream that rose above human hearing, slamming open the door with a flash of flame and smoke. Kato was the first to step through, waving the remaining smoke away from the door. With a broad grin of delight Ibn Ubayy watched the Green Hornet slide the Hornet sting back into a short rod. "You must tell me how you built such a wondrous device," he said.

"No way," the Green Hornet commented grimly. "Nobody is going to know how it's built. We have enough deadly weapons without adding another like the sting."

The inside of the loading dock was dimly lit. A pair of humvees in winter camouflage were parked near the broad doors of the ground level entrance. Several opened boxes filled with an assortment of automatic weapons were scattered near them. Through a curtain of broad plastic strips could be seen the shipping department in which several boxes stood ready to shipped throughout the country. From the opposite side of the shipping department could be heard the chatter of machine guns just on the other side of the wall. A broad ramp near that wall led down into the depths of the Red Knight.

"Colonel, I think Ibrahim and his men will be heading this way," the Green Hornet said, "Do you want to meet them here, or do you want to go with us?"

"Where will you be going, my friend?" Ibn Ubayy asked.

"We're after the bomb. I don't think it's in this room. It'll probably be in wherever their armory is, or wherever Hakenkrueze keeps his favorite 'toys'."

"I will stay here," Ibn Ubayy said, "I must do what I can to stop Ibrahim." He offered his hand to the Green Hornet and Kato. "Go with God, my friends."

"And with you," the Green Hornet answered.

Kato followed the Green Hornet down the ramp that was lit in black out condition with dim red bulbs. "How are we going to find it? This a damn big place to find an A-bomb," he commented. "You know those things are a lot smaller than they used to be."

"I know that," the Green Hornet answered. "The first time I ran into one, it was about the size of a large coffin. Now they can be put in a suitcase."

"So how are we going to find it?" Kato asked.

"Simple. We're going to ask someone."

Kato grinned, adjusting his gloves, "Sounds like a good plan to me. Got anybody in mind?"

"Yeah," the Green Hornet answered.

The ramp came to a door marked A, and then continued downward. "This is our stop," the Green Hornet said pressing on the door. Surprisingly the door opened easily, apparently someone had left it unlocked. Kato led the way, a pair of Hornet darts in his hand. The Green Hornet followed, Hornet gun at the ready.

Every office that opened onto the thickly carpeted floor was dark but one.

"I've been expecting you," Colonel Greenwood said as the Green Hornet and Kato entered, "Or at least someone like you."

The Green Hornet nodded toward the gun that laid on the top of Greenwood's desk. Greenwood's hands were flat on the desktop on either side of the gun. "Are you planning on using that?" he asked.

"Yes," Greenwood answered with a sigh, "But I am finding that I don't have the courage. I fear I enjoying living too much. And yet without honor . . . "

"That's the coward's way out," the Green Hornet said.

Greenwood shook his head sadly. "Hell of a thing to grow old and outlive your usefulness." He looked up at the Green Hornet. They were very close in age. "Did you serve in 'Nam?"

The Green Hornet shook his head, "No."

"So you were one of the lucky ones. Or did you get a deferment?" Greenwood asked.

The Green Hornet shrugged without comment. "Does Hakenkrueze have an A-bomb?"

"Is that what you're after?" Greenwood said.

"Yes, so are the Arabs. That's why they're here," the Green Hornet answered. "I want to make sure that they don't get it. And I want it out of Hakenkrueze's hands."

Greenwood nodded absently. "Yes, of course. I chose wrongly, didn't I? I thought Hakenkrueze had a lot of promise. I thought all he needed was little guidance. I thought I could groom him into a leader. This country needs a strong leader, you know. There are so many things that are so wrong with our country today, everything is so out of control. We need someone strong, you know, someone to bring the golden days back."

"There were never golden days," the Green Hornet said, "Only the faulty memories of old men. We always remember the good, not the bad. Where is the bomb?"

Greenwood rose, picking up the gun. Kato stiffened beside the Green Hornet. "Hakenkrueze has it in a steel case. It's already packed in a Humvee in the loading dock. He's planning on sending it out on an iron ore ship heading for the Mideast. One of the major harbors on the Persian Gulf is his target," he said. He turned the gun on the Green Hornet. He nodded toward the green gun in the Green Hornet's hand. "Will you at least give me the chance of dying in battle?" he asked.

"I can't," the Green Hornet said, "This gun doesn't kill. It can only stop you from doing something stupid," he added as he pressed the gas gun's trigger.

Kato eased Greenwood to the floor. "Back to the loading dock?" he asked.

Heading for the safety of the small industry offices, John, Fatima and the pilot watched the Black Beauty spray its attackers. "Jack, you and Fatima head for those buildings where it's safe. I'm going where that car is going." he said.

"No way, John," the pilot answered, "there's no reason for you to get yourself killed just for some damn story."

"I'm going," John insisted.

"The Old Man, er, Mr. Reid would kill me if I let you go," Jack insisted.

"Look, with a busted leg, you're not much up to stopping me. Besides it's going to be the story of the year. It'd be embarrassing for the Sentinel not to get the story after losing a copter over it."

"It'd be worse than embarrassing if the heir to the Sentinel got himself killed over a damned story."

"I'm going, Jack. End of discussion," John said turning toward the Red Knight. "Fatima, you go with him." he said to Fatima.

"No, I'm going with you," she said.

"Now, Fatima . . . " John began.

"You may need an interpreter. Many of these people don't speak English. You will need me along to stop anyone from killing you out of hand. Besides what better way to get the story than from the very people involved. And you can't do it if you don't understand what they're saying."

"But . . . " he tried again, but she was already heading for the Red Knight.

John shrugged helplessly. Jack returned his shrug and shook his head. "You're made for each other." he said.

Ibn Ubayy had stationed himself just out of sight of the ruined door. He thoughtfully caressed the AK-47 in his hands. The gun was fully loaded, he had made sure of that. He wished he had one of the Green Hornet's wonderful non-lethal weapons. He wished that he had the masked man's dedication to preserving life. He didn't. He was a warrior. Always had been. From the time he could carry a rifle, he had been a warrior. Even now, he was a warrior, prepared to take a life for his cause. Always for his people, always for their freedom. Now he would have to make the greatest sacrifice. For peace he would have to kill his own son.

With his men close behind him, Ibrahim cautiously entered through the loading dock door. Ibn Ubayy greeted him from out of the shadows. "Turn around, Ibrahim. Go back. You must stop fighting now," he ordered.

"Why should we stop? We are so close to victory. It is too late. We will seize the infidel's weapon and use it to send them all back to their master shaitan." Ibrahim argued.

"Your actions will only bring grief to our people. They cannot stand against the anger of the entire world. Your foolish actions will doom our people to more misery and death. You will stop now. I command this as your leader and as your father."

Ibrahim snorted derisively. "Now you remember you are my father, but where were you when our family starved in the camps. Where were you when my mother, your wife, begged in the streets in front of the house that was once ours, but now belonged to Israeli 'settlers'?"

"I was fighting for our family. I was fighting for our people."

"And now I continue the fight. Now I bring the battle to shaitan's heart. We will purify the world with sword and fire until all come under the shariah," Ibrahim answered hotly.

"Do not do this," Ibn Ubayy warned pointing the AK-47 at his son's heart, "the battle must end here."

"If it is God's will that we die here," Ibrahim answered, "then so be it. You will have to kill us or we will kill you. Get out of our way old man or join us. Or die."

"Is it God's will that son should kill father? Or that father should kill son?" a woman's voice interrupted.

Ibn Ubayy and Ibrahim spun to face the woman. "Where in the Koran is it written that blood should destroy blood in Allah's name?" she asked. Where in the sacred book is it written that it is righteous to kill one's father?"

"Go away woman," Ibrahim snarled, "Go back to your lover. You have disgraced yourself enough by laying with him. Do not disgrace yourself further by involving yourself in the affairs of men."

"Yes, the affairs of men," she said bitterly, "You decide the fate of your people and in your blindness, kill mother's sons and make widows and orphans. All in your pride of manhood. You have become like a dog that bites the fleas that plague it. They bite it, and bother it to distraction. So it chews at its own flesh, to rid itself of them. Yet they still bite and still the dog chews until it is bleeding of its own flesh. Still the fleas continue and so does the dog until it bleeds so much that it sickens and dies. And what of the fleas now that the dog is dead?" She shrugged carelessly, "They simply seek another dog to plague." She drew out of the heavy fur coat, a small red gun that glistened in the light, "I will not allow you and your kind to continue. Our people have bled enough."

"Foolish woman, go away, or you will be punished," Ibrahim threatened, but his men had strangely moved away from him.

"Do you not know me?" she asked, "Your father does, as does your men."

"I do not know what you are talking about. You are mad."

"I bear now the name of the Prophet's daughter, Fatima, but those in the camps and in the high places know me by another. I am the Sirocco, the wind of god. The wind that was sent by Allah to destroy the armies of the Prophet's enemies. High ones in their palaces have died at my hand and the low ones hide in the shadows of the slums for fear of my touch. You will cease what you are doing, you will submit to your father's will as a dutiful son should or you will be swept away by Allah's wind."

"By that little toy?" Ibrahim said derisively, turning to fire on the woman as he spoke.

The small gun spat in her hand once, its report more like a sad sigh. The gun Ibrahim was holding was slammed violently out of his hands. It lay on the ground as smoking wreckage. "Submit to your father," she demanded, "Or you will go to the hell for those children who disobey their parents."

Unsure of what to do Ibrahim's men looked questioningly between their leader and Ibn Ubayy. They had heard before of the assassin called Sirocco but could not before it was the ski-suited woman before them. Ibn Ubayy nodded slightly, acknowledging who she was.

"Feared One," one of Ibrahim's men stuttered out, "But what of the infidel. Should we lie before them. Allow them to take what is rightfully ours?"

"Colonel Ibn Ubayy. You know the truth of this," Fatima answered.

"Yes," Ibn Ubayy answered, "She speaks the truth. Our violence has only earned us hatred of world and destroyed all we love. We must seek now world's cooperation through peace."

Barking laughter interrupted from the loading dock door, "You're a bunch of backward superstitious fools," Hakenkrueze roared as he sprayed the Arabs with machine gun fire. The three men with him backed him with a withering fire of bullets, catching Ibrahim's men and spinning them to the ground.

Ibn Ubayy dived to cover Ibrahim, pulling him to the shelter of a pillar. Rolling for another pillar Fatima, fired back at Hakenkrueze and his men. Ibn Ubayy and Ibrahim joined in the return fire. Hakenkrueze launched himself for one of the waiting Humvees. A bullet from Fatima's small gun caught one of his men piercing his bullet proof vest and sending him flying backwards out the door as Hakenkrueze's other men piled into the Humvee.

Unnoticed by the others, John had watched the entire exchange between Fatima and Ibrahim from the doorway. Now he jumped for Hakenkrueze trying to pull him from the vehicle. Hakenkrueze kicked him away as he struggled to get the key into the ignition. The heavy vehicle growled to life and Hakenkrueze slammed his foot on the gas pedal, as the broad door of the loading dock began clanking open. The Humvee slammed into and through the lower edge of the door before it could fully open. At the last moment John launched himself into the short open bed of the Humvee.

The Green Hornet and Kato ran into the loading dock area just as the Humvee roared out. "Hakenkrueze is in it!" Ibn Ubayy yelled to the Green Hornet. "He must be stopped!"

"I know, he has the bomb," the Hornet answered without pausing as he and Kato raced for the Black Beauty.

"Wait . . . " Ibn Ubayy began, but too late to be heard. Too late to tell him that John Reid was riding in the escaping vehicle.

The Green Hornet and Kato scrambled for the Black Beauty. The powerful black car roared after the escaping Humvee, narrowly missing the police car headed their way. A pair of police cars had opened a blockade across the back parking lot of the Red Knight to allow the other police car through. They moved to close the gap ahead of the Humvee, but it smashed between them sending them spinning in opposite directions. The third police car charged after the Black Beauty and the Humvee.

John grabbed for back gate of the Humvee, almost losing his balance as the vehicle swerved around a tight corner. He rose to his knees to peer over the gate. He was nearly blinded by the high beams of the black car pursuing the Humvee. Just barely he could a pair of doors open under the bright headlights. There was a deep throated whoosh from the car as a slender rocket headed straight for him. The Humvee violently swerved again and the rocket flashed harmlessly by trailed by a tail of smoke and flame. Again another rocket was fired by the black car and again the Humvee swerved barely in time to avoid the rocket. Another rocket roared out but this time the Humvee slipped on a patch of ice, sending it directly into the path of the rocket. The rocket blasted into the lower left side of the Humvee's tail, less than a foot from where John fought to keep his place in the wildly gyrating vehicle. The Humvee rocked and bucked under the force of the rocket's strike.

Almost throwing John out of the back, the Humvee turned suddenly off the road onto a broad expanse of snow heading for the freeway far off in the distance. The ride was now even rougher because the rocket had severely damaged part of the Humvee's left-hand running gear, but its high wide tires worked to its advantage in the deep snow. The black car plowed into the light powder after the Humvee, half burying itself into the snow. The forward momentum of it's powerful engine sent the black car smashing through the snow making it look like some kind of strange prehistoric creature charging through the snow drifts.

One of Hakenkrueze's men scrambled precariously out of the Humvee's back seat for the Humvee's short bed. He began firing at the black car, but his automatic rifle's bullets zinged harmlessly off the car's armored body. John crawled across the bouncing bed for the man. Hakenkrueze's man cursed as he swung his rifle at John. Losing his balance as the Humvee plunged through the snow, John was struck across the jaw with the butt of the neo-Nazi's rifle.

The Humvee began to slow as black smoke began billowing out from its rear. The black car was still gamely plowing through the snow after it and slowly gaining. Hakenkrueze's man fumbled through the wooden boxes filling part of the bed, roughly cuffing John when he tried to stop him. Finding a hand grenade, the man pitched it at the black car. Snow cascaded upward under the force of the explosion, temporarily hiding the black car.

The snow settled revealing the black car, stopped, black smoke billowing out. The crippled Humvee stopped with a huffing wheeze. Hakenkrueze climbed out of the Humvee, his other man following close behind. The third man leaped out of the bed and joined the other two. Ignored by Hakenkrueze and his men, John groggily pulled himself to his feet. Supporting himself on the edge of the Humvee's back gate John saw his father, dressed in the dark green coat and matching mask charge forward out of the black smoke covering the black car, his fist going low and deep into Hakenkrueze's belly.

Then he heard a high yowl, seemingly torn from the throat a cougar. Open mouthed he saw Lee, he was sure it was Lee except he was clad in a black chauffeur's uniform and black mask. Lee leaped through the air as if he had wings in a high kick that caught one of Hakenkrueze's men in the head. Hakenkrueze's man rolled the instant he struck the snow covered ground and quickly rose to his feet. As he rose, a long bladed serrated knife flashed in his left hand. The knife swept across barely missing Lee's mid-section. Lee quickly jumped back out of the knife's path. Hakenkrueze's man, a tall square-jawed blonde, motioned with right hand, grimly daring Lee to come at him.

Lee stood, legs together, and bowed, open hand against closed fist, toward his astonished opponent with a large grin beneath his black mask. Hakenkrueze's man gaped in surprise, but only for a moment. With a bone chilling yowl, Lee high kicked the knife out of the man's hand, sending it flying several feet into the air. Lee followed through with a quick chop toward the man's throat, but his blow was blocked at the last moment and returned with a rapid knife-edged slash to his belly. Lee blocked and struck out again for the man's own middle only to be blocked again.

John couldn't believe his eyes, both men's hands flew in an eye-blinding blur. Lee's high pitched yowls were echoed by his opponent's deep throated karate cries. Then in the corner of his eye, John noticed that the third man, the one who had ridden in the rear of the Humvee had crept toward the two fighting men. Taking careful aim the man drew up an AK-47. John jumped from the Humvee onto his back. Caught by surprise, John's man went down easily into the deep snow. John went in after him, fists flailing for the man's face and body. The man shook himself free of John and the snow.

He grinned at John and the younger Reid suddenly realized how much bigger the man was than himself. The man grabbed for John with a big bear hug, but, despite the heavy snow that dragged at his feet John quickly moved out of the man's way. John threw a quick rabbit punch for the man's kidneys, but his blow was softened by thick winter padding. The big man turned sweeping a long arm out catching John across the side of his head. John tumbled into the snow. At the last moment he rolled out of the way as his opponent dived for him. John jumped on top of the man and began again to strike him around the head and shoulders, this time with his hands clasped together into a double fist. The big man struggled for a few moments and then laid still.

Breathing heavily John knelt over his opponent for a few moments trying to catch his breath. Even though it was freezing cold outside and snow had been shoved through the neck and sleeves of his heavy down jacket, he was sweating heavily. He looked around trying to find Lee and his father. He spotted Lee too looking around puzzled.

"Where's my fa . . . ?" he began, then noticing Lee's sudden look of anger, realized the serious mistake he had almost made. "Where's the Green Hornet?" he asked.

"I don't know. But he and Hakenkrueze left a big enough trail to follow," he said, pointing out a broad swath of trampled snow. Kato high stepped through the snow toward John. "How're you doing?" he asked. He looked down at John's defeated foe. "Damn, that's a big one," he commented.

John nodded. "Yeah. You two do this a lot?" he asked as he shuffled through the snow heading toward the same trail of beaten snow that Kato was heading for.

"Not usually in two feet in snow." Kato answered as he entered the path that the Green Hornet and Hakenkrueze had left behind them.

While Kato and John had been busy with their own battles, Hakenkrueze and the Green Hornet were waging their own miniature war. Hakenkrueze had most of the advantages, especially youth. This time Hakenkrueze was determined not to overestimate the older man, who was still a powerful man despite his age, and because of his age, was much more experienced in an actual fight compared to Hakenkrueze's own experience in sparring matches limited to men who would rather not defeat their leader.

The Green Hornet's rapid attack had surprised him. The masked man, aware of his own limited stamina, was going for a rapid defeat of the neo-Nazi leader. He repeatedly threw bone-jarring blows into Hakenkrueze's stomach and chest. Hakenkrueze stumbled and faltered under the Green Hornet's attack. When the neo-Nazi leader fell to one knee, the Green Hornet momentarily paused, the fair fighter warring against the need for a quick victory.

Hakenkrueze swept up a wave of the light snow into the Green Hornet's face, at the same time launching himself up at the masked man. He drove his fist into the man's belly and another against his jaw. The Green Hornet faltered and fell onto his side. Hakenkrueze kicked at the Green Hornet missing the man's stomach but catching him in the lower side as he tried to roll out of the way. Hakenkrueze was gladdened by the Green Hornet's grunt of pain, but was not going to allow himself to back off just yet. This time it would be the Green Hornet who would sue for mercy. Something that Hakenkrueze would never grant.

Hakenkrueze flew himself down at the older man, only to find himself repelled by a strong kick against his chest. He pulled himself to his feet before the Green Hornet could rise and again kicked out at the man, catching him in the jaw. Again the Green Hornet tried to roll out of the way of Hakenkrueze's kick, but Hakenkrueze caught him in the upper thigh of his left leg. Hakenkrueze felt the jarring impact of foot striking solid bone, but relished the scream of pain that ripped out of the Green Hornet. He fervently hoped he had broken the man's leg.

Hakenkrueze threw himself onto the Green Hornet, his hands reaching for the man's throat. With one hand the Green Hornet struggled to tear Hakenkrueze's hands from his throat while with the other he tried to force his attacker's jaw up and back. The two men rolled across the cold snow-covered ground locked in a death battle. Suddenly a weak lip of snow hanging over the shallow stream leading away from the man-made pond gave way under their combined weight. Both men fell into the stream, landing hard onto the rocks below.

Quickly recovering the younger Hakenkrueze came to his feet. The heavy winter uniform that had kept him warm and dry while rolling around in the snow had protected him from the force of the fall. The Green Hornet was not so lucky. His winter weight overcoat gave no protection against the water's bone-chilling cold, nor did it save him from the bruising force of landing on top of the rocks at the bottom of the shallow stream. Rolling to his side, the Green Hornet struggled for each painful breath.

The neo-Nazi leader unsnapped the sheath at his side and pulled out a long dagger. The dagger's hilt was made from the ivory he had taken from a bull elephant he had killed on a Kenyan game preserve. It was spiral in shape with thin braided gold running in the grooves of the spiral. The hand guard was gold as was the rounded pommel. In the pommel was set in black onyx the APP's double headed eagle. It was a thing of beauty, never blooded. Hakenkrueze smiled, the first blood a knife tasted should be worthy of its craftsmanship.

Not wanting to stain his grey and white gloves he removed them and folded them into his belt. He knelt by the Green Hornet who had remained where he had fallen. The man's chest rose and fell rapidly as he gasped for air, but he did not move when Hakenkrueze threaded his fingers into his grey hair and bent his head back, exposing his throat.

"Where is your brave talk now, Old Man?" Hakenkrueze crowed as he began to draw the sharp blade slowly across the Green Hornet's throat, blood reddening the glistening metal.

"Here," the Green Hornet shouted, slamming a fist-sized rock against Hakenkrueze's head.

Hakenkrueze screamed in anger and pain, "Son of a Bitch!"

The Green Hornet threw the younger man off, trying to slam the dagger out of his attacker's hand. Hakenkrueze's other hand went for the masked man's throat, pressing against the open cut, trying crush his windpipe. The Green Hornet pulled back just far enough for Hakenkrueze to get enough leverage. He kneed the Green Hornet in the stomach, sending the man writhing back into the water. The dagger still in Hakenkrueze's hand began a downward slash toward the Green Hornet's unprotected back.

"Freeze Hakenkrueze!" a voice lashed out.

Hakenkrueze glowered up to see two policemen drawing down on him. Behind them a police car waited on a bridge across the stream. Its light bar was flashing red, white and blue against the first pale light of dawn.

"Step back officers!" Hakenkrueze shouted back. "Turn around, say that you came too late, and I'll rid this city of a plague that this city has endured far too long."

Robinson stepped forward, still holding his gun steadily on the neo-Nazi, "No way. I don't care for scum like you. If I had to choose between you and the Hornet, I'd choose him. So step away and put your hands into the air."

Hakenkrueze growled. He was so close to his revenge. If only they had arrived a moment later. He glared at the two officers, the older one he might have had a chance with, but the younger, the Chinese one, it would be useless. There was no way he could chance the final stroke, they were too close, he would be dead before the dagger struck home.

Raising his hands high above he said, "You're making a bad mistake officers. He's the one you should be taking in."

"We're taking you both in," Robinson replied. He nodded toward the younger officer who began moving toward the two men in the stream. "Get out of the water, Hakenkrueze," he ordered.

The younger officer, Ching, moved into the water as Hakenkrueze stepped onto the low walkway along the stream. He watched with unconcealed satisfaction as Ching helped the Green Hornet up. Unable to support his weight on his left leg the masked man leaned heavily on the smaller police officer. Hakenkrueze hoped fervently that he had indeed broken the man's leg.

John and Kato arrived just as Ching was helping the Green Hornet out of the water. Robinson had already snapped handcuffs onto Hakenkrueze's wrists. Robinson drew down on them. "Hold it right there you two. Put your hands up," he demanded.

John glanced back at Kato who shrugged and raised his hands into the air. "Look, officer, I'm John Reid, a reporter for the Daily Sentinel. I'm here covering the story," John said as he followed Kato's example.

"Yeah, maybe so, but you do just as I say, and we'll get along just fine," Robinson warned.

Ching had helped the Green Hornet to a bench next to the stream and was reading him his rights as John and Kato joined them. John was shocked by what he saw. The Green Hornet's head was bowed in exhaustion as Ching mirandized him. Drips from his wet hair fell along his mask and dripped down onto hands that lay still in his lap, battered and scraped hands in torn gloves. His lip was badly split and the blood from a cut on his neck had stained the collar of his shirt. The overcoat was badly ripped with one arm nearly completely torn from its seam. Tie and scarf nowhere to be seen, had been lost somewhere in the snow.

At least he had the satisfaction that the elder Reid had given as well as he had received. Hakenkrueze wouldn't be winning any beauty contests in the near future. He too was soaking wet, with glistening beads of water in his severely cut short hair. A trail of blood seeped down from an ugly gash in his scalp, joining the blood that dripped from his smashed nose. One eye was almost shut closed and his jaw and mouth were swollen and purpled. Still, the one good eye gleamed in satisfaction as he watched the police officer talk to the Green Hornet. Doubtless Hakenkrueze would be jailed, but so would be the Green Hornet. The Green Hornet who had so much to lose.

John wanted to say something through the heaviness in his gut. Yet he couldn't. He was John Reid, reporter, scion of the Reid family, future heir to the Daily Sentinel. Had he returned just to see his father jailed? Young Reid remained silent, but noticed a jaw muscle tensing under the bruising. He had seen that often enough to know that despite the closed eyes, the wheels were already running through his father's mind, hatching and rejecting plans and ideas, one after the other.

The growl of a large engine interrupted John's thoughts. A winter camouflaged Humvee roared down the shallow streambed straight for them. A man stood in the vehicle's bed waving a metal case.

"Commander, we have it!" the man shouted as it headed at the small knot of men at the stream's side.

Hakenkrueze leapt for the Humvee as John, Kato and the police officers jumped out of the way. The Humvee charged past them and bounced up onto the road. It slammed into the waiting police car, sending it crashing down an embankment.

"Kato!" the Green Hornet shouted from the bench where he still sat, unfazed by the sudden attack, "Get the Black Beauty!"

John came up to him as Kato ran off for the car, "How can he? It's been destroyed."

"It takes a lot more than a near miss with a damn hand grenade to damage the Black Beauty," he replied with a grim smile.

John gaped. One moment the Green Hornet was the very picture of abject defeat, the other and he was ready again for battle.

"You're not going anywhere," Robinson gritted, "You're still under arrest."

"Officer Robinson," the Green Hornet said to Robinson, "Your unit's destroyed, so is your radio. How are you planning to get Hakenkrueze?"

"He's right," Ching added. "The Hornet's the only one who can catch Hakenkrueze now."

Robinson frowned in concentration. "You think that case has the bomb in it?" he asked the Green Hornet.

The Green Hornet nodded. "Positive."

Somewhere along the way Kato had found a shallow crossing spot for the Black Beauty and came alongside the waiting men. The Green Hornet attempted to get to his feet, but his leg was still giving him too much trouble. Kato stepped out of the car.

"I'll give you a hand," John volunteered as he came to the Green Hornet's side. He could see stubborn pride warring in the older man's eyes with the need to get moving quickly. "I'm going with them," John said to the police officers.

"Now wait a minute," Robinson said, "Nobody said anything about you going anywhere."

"Am I under arrest?" John asked reasonably.

"No . . . but I don't think you should go with them. I bet you're Britt Reid's son. I don't want to have to tell one of the city's most powerful men in the city that I let his son get himself killed," Robinson countered.

John risked a quick glance at the Green Hornet, his father. He knew that the elder Reid was thinking the same thing as the police officer. There was a barely perceptible nod of permission.

"My father would understand. I'm a reporter first. This could be the story of the year, if not the century. I can't go home without the story, not after we already lost a helicopter over it."

The police officer hesitated a moment longer.

"We can't waste any more time. We have to leave now," John pressed.

"Okay, go," Robinson finally relented as he unsnapped the cuffs off the Green Hornet's wrists.

John helped the Green Hornet to the waiting car and climbed in the opposite side. A strange transformation came over the Green Hornet. Where there was a man worn by exhaustion and defeat, was now a man fully in charge. "Kato," he said, "Get on the freeway and head east toward the city."

"You have an idea where they might be heading?" Kato asked.

"There's a private airport just off Route 605. It's big enough to handle big aircraft."

"That would figure. Air's the fastest way to get out of town," Kato commented.

"Right," the Green Hornet agreed.

The road sped under the Black Beauty's tires. The freeway was well-maintained, kept free of any ice or snow. There would be no problems about keeping a firm grip on the road. However, another problem existed. As the sun rose on its sleepy way into the eastern sky, city bound travelers began to fill the road.

"There's too much traffic, Boss," Kato said. "Hakenkrueze and his boys have too big a lead on us. We'll never catch them."

The Green Hornet thought a moment, then noticed a passing sign, "Take the Harmon road exit. Route 202 will run into 605. It might even save us a few miles."

"But 202's a two-lane road," John pointed out. "And they don't always keep it bladed," he added.

"You have a better idea?" the Green Hornet asked sharply, as if he was talking a stranger instead of his own son.

"No," John answered quietly, taken back by his father's harshness. He suddenly realized that the man sitting beside him was not Britt Reid, but the Green Hornet.

Route 202 was not as well maintained as the freeway but a lot of people lived in the small bedroom communities feeding off the road, so it had been recently cleared of the most recent snowfall and was still well-sanded. The Black Beauty's great speed was making a difference. The Green Hornet glared at the double doors where the tv monitor sat. If Hakenkrueze had not taken out the scanner . . . , he thought. Too late now. We'll have to make do without it.

"There it is," Kato finally said as he spotted the Humvee through a clearing in the trees just before route 202 met 605.

Rockets firing, the Black Beauty met the Humvee just as it passed the intersection. Two of the rockets struck the side of the large vehicle on the side with enough force to send it careening sideways half off the road. The Black Beauty pulled behind it, sending another pair of rockets after it. Only one hit its mark, but it was enough to crumple the rear fender.

"Stay with them," the Green Hornet gritted as he pressed the buttons to send another volley into the escaping vehicle.

"Shit!" he said when no rockets fired out.

"What's wrong?" Kato asked.

"We're out of rockets," the Green Hornet growled.

In the breath of the respite from the Black Beauty's assault, Hakenkrueze's had found the time to take up their own attack. Rounds from AK-47's rattled against the Black Beauty's armored body in a deadly hail. A rocket hissed out from a hand-held rocket launcher heading straight for the Black Beauty. Kato wildly swung the Black Beauty out of the way. The rocket passed by the Black Beauty close enough for John to clearly see the lettering on its side. Another rocket zoomed out at them, a near miss again, this time coming in high, but low enough to singe a trail in the Black Beauty's roof.

"Damn," Kato cursed, "It's going to take me forever to replace that vinyl."

"Pull off and stop," the Green Hornet ordered.

"But what about them?" Kato asked as the Humvee pulled away from them.

The Green Hornet pulled himself out of the Black Beauty as it ground to a halt. "Pop the trunk open," he said.

The wide trunk popped open with a sharp snap, as Kato and John joined him beside the car.

"In that case is the Hornet mortar," he said, leaning against the open trunk. "It should still work and have a few mortars left. Attach it to the scanner's base," he directed. He pointed to a set of wires with connectors attached to them. "Those wires go there," he instructed as Kato and John set about connecting the bulky device. "Lock the scanner doors open, so the mortar will fit through the opening."

Soon the Black Beauty was back on the road. The Green Hornet flipped a set of switches. "The mortar's live," he said when a telltale showed green. "After them, Kato," he ordered. "If you have any more horses under the hood, trot them out."

"Think it'll work?" Kato asked as the Black Beauty began catching up with the Humvee.

"It better," the Green Hornet commented. "The damn thing's a lot of trouble to use, but it's our best bet at the moment." He pressed a button and with a deep throated whoosh a mortar blasted from the Black Beauty's trunk.

"A bit wide," Kato said, "Try again. A little lower this time."

Hakenkrueze's men stood up and pulled the rocket launcher up again. The Green Hornet adjusted mortar's settings and fired. The Humvee swerved, barely avoiding the mortar. The standing man fell from the Humvee's bed right into the Black Beauty's path. Kato cranked the steering wheel, sending the big car into a dangerous swerve. It rocked precariously, for a breathless moment on the outer wheels, threatening to turn completely over. It landed back on all four wheels with a jarring thump that could be felt all the way up the spines of its passengers. Behind them the fallen man rose shakily to his feet.

Kato shot a glance at the man as they passed him. "Blood would've been a bitch to clean off," he commented.

Just ahead of them the Humvee crossed a narrow bridge over an ice-choked river. Something flew out of the Humvee and the bridge erupted in a massive explosion. The Black Beauty screeched to a halt at the destroyed bridge's edge. Kato set the car in reverse and began backing up.

"What are you planning on?" John asked.

Kato revved the Black Beauty's big engine until it growled like a giant beast. He released the brake and the car charged forward with a wild scream. At the edge of the bridge he slammed on the power lever. With a massive kick the big black car flew over open space.

"Are you crazy?" John screamed. "The damned car's too damned big!"

John's head hit the roof as the Black Beauty landed with a suspension jarring impact. The rear wheels spun for a breathless moment over the edge. Then the car surged forward as momentum forced them onto solid ground.

John stared open-mouthed at the Green Hornet. The Green Hornet grimaced. "Kato," he said more calmly than John would have expected, "If your father and I had planned for the Black Beauty to fly, we would have given her wings."

Again the Black Beauty was hot on the Humvee's tail. This time they were determined to stop it. A train whistle blasted a warning. In the clear morning light they could see a miles-long train winding its way toward a graded crossing. A bar slid across the road bed with yellow and red flashing lights and loud clanging.

"We'll catch them at the crossing," Kato said eagerly.

"Oh, my God," John gasped, "They're trying to beat the train."

The Humvee tore through the bar without stopping. The train whistled and hooted, but it was too late. The Humvee shattered under the impact like a child's toy under a parent's car. Pieces of metal shooting out struck the slowing Black Beauty with enough force to star the windshield just below the roof-line on Kato's side.

The three men watched as the train slid past them. Several miles down the way it would finally come to a stop to check out the fatal wreck. Already it had been radioed back to Amtrak. Soon enough the investigators would come out and document the pieces of metal and human wreckage.

The Green Hornet sighed tiredly. "Let's go home, Kato," he said, closing his eyes as he leaned back into his seat.

III

Something had woken Casey up. For a few moments she was confused. She had fallen asleep on the long couch facing the townhouse's fireplace waiting for Britt and Lee to come home. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and stretched. The fire in the large stone fireplace had long turned into grey ashes and light was streaming through the patio door curtains. Britt had not wanted her to wait up for him. He wanted her to stay home in Valley Grove, but she hated having to wait for him in the big house.

Danielle had still not returned from Frank's place and John and Fatima had taken off for the Daily Sentinel as soon as word had gone out that the Green Hornet was involved in something at the Red Knight building. With bated breath she had listened to the news reports on the radio including the one about the DSTV copter going down. More reports followed that one, most of them confusing, until even as worried as she was, Casey had started to nod off. The last she had heard was that the pilot had been found injured, but safe and Fatima had shown up with the Arab fighters. Somehow with Ibn Ubayy she had convinced them to peacefully surrender to the police. Of John there was no word except for the belief that he had ridden off with the Green Hornet.

Maybe that's why she had fallen asleep. She knew that Britt would do everything in his power to keep John safe. And John and Lee would keep Britt safe, the harder of the two jobs. Then she realized what had woken her up. It was the satisfying sound of a big car's heavy door closing. Throwing off the crocheted afghan, she headed for the garage. Still in the black chauffeur's uniform, but without the mask, Lee opened the door just as she reached the wide steps that lead up from the sunken livingroom to the entry way and the door leading to the garage. Behind him John gave a helping arm to his badly limping father. A quick thought flashed through her mind. When had John gotten so big? Haven't I ever noticed before that he was now taller than his father and almost as broad in the shoulders?

Britt was still in the Green Hornet costume including the mask. Casey quickly restrained her gasp. Beneath the mask Britt's features were grey and drawn with exhaustion. The collar of his shirt was pink from the blood of a nasty cut across his throat. Britt pulled himself tall and straight, forcing himself to assume the air of invincibility. He forced a grin, "Good morning Casey," he said as he freed himself from his son's support. Did he too feel the sudden gust of time passing before them? Casey wondered.

Quickly regaining her composure, Casey hugged Lee and John. "You two boys look tired. Lee, why don't you take John with you to your quarters and you two get some rest," she said, taking control, brooking no dissent as only a mother could.

John looked doubtfully at his father who was leaning heavily on the railing of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms upstairs. He was trying not to show the effort it was costing him just to merely stand there. "Your father and I will be upstairs if you need us," she said, coming to Britt's side. "Now go with Lee and get some rest," she ordered. When it looked like John might protest, she added firmly, "We'll be fine."

For a moment it looked like John would press the issue, then Lee broke the spell. "C'mon, I'm beat. Let's hit the sack," he said.

"Sure," John said, following Lee's lead. "By the way," he added, "Do you have anything to eat. I'm starving."

"Yeah," Lee answered, "I got my own kitchen."

Casey felt Britt's arm around her waist. She hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go, feeling the strength flow between them. She nestled against his chest. The overcoat was soaking wet, but she didn't care, only grasping all the tighter, tight enough, close enough to hear his heart beat. He nuzzled her hair. "I'm glad you waited," he whispered into her hair.

John had not known what to expect when he entered Lee's quarters. Instead of being separated into a number of rooms, it was all one open space broken up into two levels. The lower level, the larger of the two areas, looked more like a gymnasium than living quarters. The hardwood floor supported exercise equipment such as a stationary bike, a nautilus machine, a treadmill and a rowing machine. Against the wall was set a weight bench and a rack of weights. Next to the weights was a rack of vicious looking spears and swords ornamented with thick red cords. Also in the area were all sorts of dummies and work out bags including an odd wooden device consisting of a large upright cylindrical block of wood from which several long round arms protruded.

John followed Lee into a small upper area, screened off from the gym by sliding screens of plaited wood. A small but an efficient kitchen was against the wall closest to the entryway and was separated from the living room by a narrow counter and a set of three high stools. Lee went to a low table on which was a small altar of a Buddha figure surrounded by votive candles and sticks of incense. Lee lit a stick of incense and whispered a few words as he placed it into a holder near the statue. He smiled slightly under John's gaze, unsure of what the young newspaper man thought of his actions.

"It's good to respect the old ways. You never know," he commented.

"Yeah, I hear you," John said in agreement. "I have a feeling you were lucky to make it back this time."

"Sometimes I kind of feel that way, but with Mr. Reid, I always know we will." Lee said. "Make your self at home," he offered.

The living room itself was very Spartan with a pair of black futon couches, a low black square coffee table, a tall brass floor lamp and a pair of tall bookcases. Here, unlike in the gymnasium, Lee had made his own presence known. Scattered along the walls were several rock music posters and on the coffee table was a lava lamp, a camera, several lenses and some books on photography.

John noticed that most of the books in the bookcase were in Chinese, but from the few titles in English he guessed that the owner's taste ran to philosophy and marital arts.

"The books in the bookcases were my father's," Lee explained as he walked into the kitchen. "My father tried to teach me to read Chinese, but I never got the hang of it," he continued. "I'm thinking of donating them to a school in Chinatown, but I haven't found the time yet." He looked wistfully at the books, then shrugged. "I guess I'm not in a hurry to get rid of them. 'Sides the cases would look awfully empty without them."

"I know what you mean," John said. "Do you have a phone I can use? I need to call my story in to the Sentinel."

"Sure," Lee said as he handed John a cordless phone, "How are you planning on playing it?" he asked.

"I'll stick to the facts, although I'd sure like to play up the Hornet as a hero, but I guess that wouldn't be any good for his reputation. Would it?"

"That's probably what Mr. Reid would say, but I sure get tired of being chased by the cops all the time."

Lee pulled out some sandwich meat, cheese, bread and mustard and laid them onto the counter, "'Fraid I'm not much of a cook, if it needs more than one pan or a microwave I'm out of luck."

"Fine with me," John said as he waited for the City Room to answer. "What do you have to drink?"

Lee searched through the refrigerator and cabinets. "I got an old pot of coffee, a few cokes, and two bottles of Coors," he said. "I could always nuke the coffee or fix a fresh pot," he offered.

"No coffee for me, I'm going to have a hard enough time getting to sleep as it is, never mind adding caffeine to the mix." John raised a hand for silence when the City Editor came on line.

After he had finished his report John joined Lee in a morning snack of sandwiches and beer. Even though his stomach growled, he found that he didn't much enjoy his food.

"Is everything okay?" Lee asked.

"Food's fine, but . . . "

"But what?"

"Fatima was there," John said faintly.

"Yeah, we saw her with you and the pilot after the helicopter went down."

"Was that flying gadget yours then?"

"Yeah. So what happened to her? I thought I caught a glance of her with Ibn Ubayy at the Red Knight."

"Yeah . . . , She was there. She's the one that got Ibrahim and his men to stand down. It's like she was a whole different person, not the girl I thought I was marrying." He stared at the half empty beer bottle in his hand, watching the suds slide slowly down the inside. "I think she's some kind of spy," he gave a short ironic laugh, "Like some kind of secret agent. I think she's marrying me because it's a mission, something she has to do. Not because she loves me."

"Maybe you didn't hear things right. Could be it sounded that way, but it isn't," Lee offered.

"No, I don't think so," John growled. "I feel like a damned idiot. I should've known better."

"Known better what?" Lee asked, "Were there any clues before this that she might not be playing straight with you?"

"I keep on wracking my head. There must have been something. Something that I should have picked up on. But I can't think of a thing. I was the one who started everything. We met at the embassy in Kahara. I needed someone to interpret some documents for me, and well, she was a lot easier to look at than the male interpreters and since we were just going to be working together over a bunch of papers and not going into the field . . . Well, one thing led to the other. We had a lot of fun touring the countryside and some of the local ruins and tourist traps. And a year later I proposed."

"A year's a long time. I would think that if there was something suspicious about her you would've picked it up," Lee offered. "You don't strike me as somebody who'd let your hormones take over."

John snorted, "You'd think so, wouldn't you? I thought that too, but . . . "

Lee unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. "Why don't you talk with her tomorrow? Maybe she has a logical explanation for what you saw and heard."

"Yeah, maybe," John said doubtfully.

Casey carefully followed Britt as he slowly walked up the stairs to his old bachelor rooms on the second floor. He leaned heavily on the railing, but she kept her distance, knowing he would be too proud to accept help.

"Looks like you had a rough night," she said once they were in the bedroom.

"Yeah, it was sheer luck that we got out in one piece," Britt said.

His aqua-grey eyes were almost colorless with exhaustion and somewhere along the way his tie and scarf were lost and the overcoat torn. Casey reached up and removed the green mask. She caressed his broad forehead with her good hand, bringing it softly down along his sandpaper rough cheek. He grasped her hand, held it there, then kissed the palm of her hand, caressing her fingers with his own. He reached for her, tenderly brushing the hair way from her face. She grasped his hand, noticing the cuts and swollen knuckles. She remembered how so many years ago she had thought he had such beautiful hands for a man, long fingered, well shaped, not effeminate, but strong and capable. His hands were still strong, but now too many years of fighting with nothing but dress gloves on had taken their toll. Still they were good hands, and he was a good man.

She kissed him, holding him tightly to her, feeling his arms wrap around her. She could feel his tiredness, feel the sag of his broad shoulders, feel the unsteadiness of his bad leg. Pulling back for a moment, she traced the cut along his throat, "How did this happen?" she asked, realizing that if it had been a little longer, or a little deeper . . .

"Hakenkrueze," he answered ruefully as he touched the wound above his shirt collar. "He kicked the hell out of my left leg too. Damned jack booted Nazi."

"So is this the end of it?" she asked. "Do you think Hakenkrueze and the APP were behind the bombing at the Sentinel?"

"I don't know. Maybe the cops will find something at the Red Knight, or maybe Greenwood will tell them something, but I don't know. It doesn't feel right to me. The bombing at the Sentinel, just doesn't jibe with what I've seen of Hakenkrueze. He had no real beef with the Sentinel, outside of not caring for the media in general."

"What about the work Ed was doing on them?" she asked.

"Ed wasn't anywhere close enough to getting anything serious on them. I don't think Hakenkrueze would blow up the Sentinel just because of some reporter's fishing expedition. I think I would've heard from Greenwood if they thought Lowery was getting too close. Greenwood would've tried to convince me there was nothing for Lowery, and the Sentinel, to look into. Maybe the bombing would've come later if we had continued to investigate, but not when Lowery wasn't anywhere close to them."

"And you don't think Ibrahim is behind it." she guessed.

"No way. Ibrahim was only reacting to the Ayatollah's death. He has no interest in the Sentinel."

"So, who do you think is behind the bombing at the paper, then?"

"Damned if I know," Britt said with a tired sigh. "After all this we're back to square one. The Green Hornet will have to hit the streets again and see what else he can turn up."

"Don't even think of it, not before you get some rest. I'll call the Sentinel and cancel your appointments for tomorrow," she offered as she began to unbutton what was left of his overcoat.

"Better not, not after one of the biggest news nights this city has seen in years," Britt said as he shrugged his shoulders out of the coat.

"You have a lot of great people on the staff, you don't need to be at the paper to make sure everything gets done. Besides you can have everything sent to your computer in Valley Grove," she suggested.

"Yeah, but what about the repairs for my office and the city room? I'm going over the plans with the engineers tomorrow."

"I'll move it to later in the day. Right now, you need your rest," she said.

"Now Casey . . . " he began.

"Britt . . . " she said.

"Okay, but I have to take a shower. No way I'm getting into bed like this."

"No problem," she said. "I'll get you a towel," she offered.

She saw his shape through the pebbled surface of the shower door. Head bowed, facing into the shower's needle spray, he stood supporting most of his weight on his good leg and an arm stretched out to the tile wall. She tapped lightly on the door. "Need somebody to scrub your back?" she suggested lightly as she slid the door back.

Britt looked up at her, the slight smile of welcome on his lips quickly broadened when he noticed her nakedness as she folded the towels in her arms into the nearby towel rack. "Casey, you always know how to make an old man happy," he commented. He frowned, noticing the cast on her left arm, "Shouldn't you keep that dry?"

"The doctor told me that I can take a shower with it as long as I wrapped in some plastic wrap to keep it dry," she explained, pointing out the wrap around the cast. "Here, turn around," she ordered as she joined him in the shower. "Let me get your back first," she said, grabbing a washcloth and working a bar of soap into it.

She started at the nape of his neck, moving the washcloth down to the slope of his broad shoulders, "You have a lot of tension here," she commented, slowly kneading the muscles of his neck and shoulders.

"Yeah," Britt murmured, softly, "I always get tense there. Feels good," he said as her strong fingers worked the tight muscles until they began to relax.

Casey moved the washcloth further down across his shoulders and down his back. His back was badly scarred from the attack that had forced him to retire as the Green Hornet so many years ago. Dimpled bullet scars and raised welts from the surgery to remove them was scattered across his back along with short and long scars from the various types of knives that had been thrust into his body throughout his career as the Green Hornet. Most of the scars were faded to nearly the color of his dark tan, but a few still snaked palely across his skin. Casey gently moved the washcloth over the dark blotches from the terrific bruising he had received from Hakenkrueze's pounding. He hissed in pain as she touched an especially sore spot over a kidney.

"Sorry," she said. "Boy, you sure took a beating tonight," she added noticing the especially big bruise on his left leg. From the looks of it, she was surprised that he could put any weight on it at all, or considering that his leg was kept together by pins and wires it hadn't shattered again under the blow.

Britt turned around and lifted her chin with a finger. He smiled into her eyes. "Yeah, but you should've seen the other guy," he said lightly. "I'm lucky," he continued, gently taking the washcloth from her hand, "I get to share a shower with a beautiful woman." He pulled her close, kissing her deeply as he stroked her buttocks with the washcloth.

She laughed lightly as she snatched the washcloth back and began rubbing more soap into it. She drew the washcloth across his chest and watched as the suds flowed down his chest, down his stomach and around his legs. She moved the washcloth down his stomach, noticing that he had become aroused. "You're a dirty old man, Britt Reid," she added as she moved the soapy washcloth lower.

"You're a dirty old woman, Mrs. Reid," he replied, pulling her closer with one hand while the other grasped her breast, a thumb playing with an erect nipple.

Casey moaned with pleasure at his knowing touch. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She reached back to shut off the shower. "We better get out before we shrivel up like a bunch of prunes," she said as she playfully pulled him out of the shower.

"Shriveling's not my problem at the moment," he commented ruefully.

"Here let me dry you off," Casey said as she grabbed a towel. "Don't want to get the bed wet."

Britt grabbed the other towel and threw it around her hips, pulling her toward him. "I don't think we'll be wet by the time we reach it."

It was a lot time before they reached the bed, but the thick carpet under them was soft enough. Their lovemaking was leisurely, without the hyper kinetic gymnastics of a younger couple. They moved together in close harmony, taking their time, knowing the secret places that could send the other trembling in ecstasy. The cast on Casey's arm was worked around with giggles and deep laughter and Britt's strong arms more than made up for his badly bruised left leg.

They finally ended up on top of the bed, relaxing in the golden glow of spent passion. Casey rested on top of Britt, her head nuzzling under his chin, listening to his slowing heart beat. She sighed contentedly as he gently caressed her back. Perhaps he would be wrong, she thought, perhaps the police would find evidence at the Red Knight that would tie up all the loose ends together. Perhaps tomorrow Frank would call to say that Danielle had finally turned up at a friend's house and, even better, had decided to come home. Britt's hand stopped. She looked up at Britt to see that his eyes had closed and his chest under her head rose and fell in the slow rhythm of sleep. Tomorrow, she thought, she hoped, everything would be okay. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, she amended it to, today. Later today.