Chapter 13.
SAN HIDALGO, GUATEMALA (1930)
The lieutenant governor of the province was working late in his office when he finally sensed the unseen presence.
"Quien es...?"
The rest of his inquisitive demand was cut-off when the intruder stepped into the meager light from his desk lamp. A figure wearing a quetzal-feathered headdress made from a hollowed-out alligator's head. Thereby prompting the lieutenant governor to spring from his chair and bow on one knee!
"Excelencia!" he exclaimed in deferential awe.
"Arriba, Don Rubio. I have need of your services beyond this office."
"Sus deseos son ordenes, para mi, Excelencia."
"A crisis has arisen that demands I temporarily leave the country to resolve it. You must, therefore, take control of the Feathered Serpent Clan in my absence... and in my semblance. Comprende?
"Comprendo, Excelencia."
CENTRAL CITY, ILLINOIS
(APRIL 1, 1947)
Police Commissioner Dolan looked up at the loudspeaker as it blared the latest public announcement.
"Metropolis Meteor departing eastbound, on Track Five, in five minutes."
Whereupon, he looked back at his widowed daughter... and the handle of the baby carriage she was so tightly clutching.
"Honey! Won't you please reconsider?"
Ellen Clark adamantly shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Dad. But, I've made up my mind. With Dave gone, Central City has become a bigger moral cesspool than Chicago and Gotham City, put together! And I refuse to raise Peggy in such an environment."
"You really think Metropolis is all that different?"
"Well, it may not be perfect! But, it certainly has a lower crime rate, thanks to people like Doc Savage and Justice, Incorporated. Maybe if Central City's Finest employed special consultants like them more often (as a rule rather than an exception), you'd see half your local crime cleaned up in a flash."
"Hmph!" the trench-coated old flatfoot instinctively grunted in disagreement. "That'll be the day."
GOTHAM CITY (52 YEARS AND 2 MONTHS LATER)
"Black Spider to Deathstroke! Black Spider to Deathstroke!"
The Dannerized mercenary had great difficulty not visibly reacting to the voice practically shouting in his right ear via the "earwig" transceiver sewn into his own ninja hood.
"What is it?" he demanded (as sotto voce as possible).
"We are en route to you as we speak. ETA; ten minutes. Can you stall them for that long? Over."
"My ground-based backup is keeping them at gunpoint while I load the Predator aboard the APC. Will take off as soon as they follow suit. Rendezvous with you at GSU ROTC. Copy that? Over."
"Copy that. Black Spider; over and out."
Whereupon, Deathstroke threw his unconscious (and slightly heavier-than-anticipated) burden on to a custom-built stretcher with a grateful grunt. He then shackled it to that stretcher with a series of heavy-duty chains made of promethium-steel alloy. All before tuning his earwig to the APC's p.a. system.
"All aboard. Double-time! Hut-hut-hut-hut-hut!"
The black ops commandos followed that order with well-honed immediacy. Two seconds after the last of them was back on board, and the ramp closed up, the APC took off at full speed in the direction of Gotham State University. Deathstroke reporting his ETA, to the skycrane pilot, as seven minutes/thirty-one seconds. There was one thing, however, that he had failed to factor into his calculations.
The Dynamic Duo were right behind them on their Bat-mota Vulcans.
"Well, we're catching up to them," Robin observed over his helmet mike. "Now, what do we do?"
"You stay on their tail," replied Batman. "I'll veer off in order to get in front and throw an EMP burst-arang."
"That's a good idea," added a new voice. "But, as I'm already headed towards them, why don't _both_ of you stay on their tail and let _me_ do the intercepting?"
"Batgirl?!" exclaimed the Dark Knight. "I thought you were stuck in traffic!"
"I finally managed to get off at the nearest exit and pull a quick-change in a vacant lot."
MONKEY RIVER ESTUARY,
BRITISH HONDURAS
(NINE DAYS LATER)
"Capitan Flamingo?" inquired the beautiful Eurasian girl as she disembarked from the hoisted-up whaleboat.
Yet, the black-bearded mariner before her merely shook his head.
"Perdoname, senorita, pero no. Soy simplemente primer oficial! Y me averguenza admitir... el capitan esta... borracho. En todo caso? Bienvenido a bordo Los Siete Mares."
The Eurasian girl bowed. "Gracias, senor. Although, it is now I who must make an embarrassing confession. Your fluency in Spanish far exceeds my own. May we, therefore, converse in English for the remainder of our association, Mister...?"
The mariner grinned and bowed.
"Van Dahl, mejuffrow. Paul Wildeman Van Dahl (late of the Dutch navy) at your service."
"While still riding your civilian bike?!" exclaimed the Dark Knight.
"Relax!" she replied. "I'm not wearing my regular outfit."
Indeed, she was not. Barbara Clarke was, in fact, wearing the black fedora and matching domino mask that had once belonged to her maternal grandfather, David Clarke. Once better known, to the residents of Central City as... The Man Called Midnight.
GOTHAM STATE UNIVERSITY (DEC. 24, 1946)
"Welcome to the United States, Professor Schimmel."
"Please, Herr Doktor," replied the expatriate German scientist. "Just call me 'Otto'. Now, where is this young man you were telling me about?"
The Man of Bronze escorted his new colleague to a chamber guarded by two military policemen. Within that chamber was a bed surrounded by all manner of life-support equipment. And lying in the bed was a young man with black wavy hair and a gradually increasing stubble.
"What is wrong with him?" Otto Schimmel asked (getting right to the point).
"He was trying to bring a fugitive Japanese war criminal, known as Dr. Cobra, to justice. But, in the process of struggling with each other, they knocked over some test tubes and they each inhaled an atomized mixture of neurotoxin (milked from Indian black scorpions) and hydrogen cyanide (distilled from passion fruits infected with F. oxysporum). The result? Instant catalepsy."
"You have not been able to revive him by conventional means?"
Doc Savage shook his head. "Hence, our need for your expertise in cryobiological preservation."
The APC was nearing the main entrance, to the GSU campus throughway, when the driver spotted the young woman on the Suzuki. So, naturally, he turned on external loudspeakers to the vehicle's public-address system.
"All civilian traffic! Move aside! Federal emergency!"
Barbara, of course, smiled as she ignored him. Preparing, instead, to throw the magnetized batarang that would subsequently disrupt the APC's entire electrical system. She never got to throw it, though, because of a most unusual projectile that suddenly came down atop the vehicle. A flesh-and-blood projectile called...
...Khan Noonein Singh.
tbc
Author's Notes
The Man Called Midnight (nee Dave Clark) was a pastiche of Will Eisner's The Spirit created for the Golden Age publisher called Quality Comics by Everett Arnold and Jack Cole. My version has merely been amalgamated with the Spirit's origin.
SPANISH TRANSLATIONS
"Who is...?)"
"Up Don Rubio!"
"Your wishes are my commands, Excellency!"
"Forgive me, miss, but no. I am merely the first mate. And it embarrasses me to admit... the captain is... drunk. In any case? Welcome aboard The Seven Seas."
DUTCH TRANSLATION
"...my lady."
