Chapter 13.
MALIBU, CALIFORNIA
EARTH-774 (9:16 A.M./PST)
The original Black Owl had been Douglas Danville. A thrill-seeking millionaire playboy who had gotten bored with all the usual pursuits of the idle rich. So, in 1940, he decided to become a costumed crime-fighter! But, by the second anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, everything had changed. Fighting organized crime bosses and pro-Axis spy rings did not seem enough of a the war effort. So, Danville decided to serve his country much more directly.
He joined the United States Army.
He did not abandon the role of Black Owl, completely, however. On his last night as a civilian, he passed it on to the last person anyone might have expected. His CPA: widower Walt Walters! The latter, of course, was certainly dumbfounded by this revelation. But, only half as much as he was by Danville's main reason for choosing him. Namely, that Walt's twin sons, Dick and Rick (Richard and Broderick) were secretly the junior vigilantes, Yank and Doodle!
And, so, the family of three fought the forces of evil, together, for the next six years. In 1949, however, Walt had a brief reunion with Danville. The latter had been recruited for officer-candidate school after boot camp. Ultimately graduating with honors and a second lieutenancy. Now, he was a captain with Army Intelligence attached to Project: Golden Age.* And, if Walt agreed to be one of the hibernating participants, Danville would see to it that his sons were given full scholarships to the colleges of their choice.
Following the emergency reawakening of the hibernators, however, now-retired General Danville had one last one reunion with Walt. The former explaining to him not only the fate of his sons. But, also, the fate of his granddaughters!
"Rick enlisted in the army at the start of the Korean War, which broke out a year after you went under. He died in action twenty years after that in a place called South Vietnam, leaving behind a daughter born out of wedlock! She eventually fell in with the wrong crowd, ultimately becoming the masochistic girlfriend of a misogynistic psycho called Rip-Jaw! As for Dick? I managed to get him a special exemption as the only remaining member of your immediate family. He became an L.A. County deputy sheriff, instead. And his daughter Jennifer is a public defender! With her first client having been her own cousin, Nanette."
Since then, Walt had undergone special re-training so he could work for the modern Justice Department as a forensic accountant. But, the moment he heard about Jennifer's being critically wounded by gunmen 'allegedly' working for Rip-Jaw's successor, Nicholas Trask, he knew he could not sit idly by and do nothing. And, so, the second Black Owl. . .
. . .came out of retirement.
Nicholas Trask entered the private study of his beach house. But, as he did so, he gasped upon seeing an intruder already standing just the other side of the door! An intruder who took advantage of that momentary immobility to render him unconscious with one right-handed punch. When Trask revived, there was naturally some initial disorientation. But it eventually dawned on him that he was hanging upside down, from a great height, over a large dark opening.
"Welcome back to the Land of the Living, Trask."
Trask twisted his neck upward and beheld a giant-sized Black Owl standing next to an equally gigantic Spider-man! With the latter holding a line of webbing in his left hand that terminated at Trask's ankles. That, in turn, allowed him to see... that he had resumed his true form.
"So, this is what a typical Vardax looks like," remarked Spider-man.
"Correct," replied an all-too familiar voice: "A war-like race of Skrull/Badoon hybrids from the same parallel universe as Commando D. They tried to invade our Earth, fifteen years ago. But the Sentinels of Justice sent them packing!"
Trask once more contorted his head and neck upward. Only, this time, to his right.
"Nightveil!"
The Sorceress Supreme smiled. "You remember me? I'm flattered. Allow me to introduce you to my FemForce teammate: Synesthesia."
She gestured to the platinum-blonde superheroine sitting on a wooden chair just below him... with her mouth wide open.
"I'm going to make this simple for you, Trask," Nightveil continued. "We're going to ask you some questions. If we dislike any of your answers? You go down Syn's hatch!"
"Question Number One," added the Black Owl: "Why are you impersonating an organized crime boss?"
Trask did not hesitate for an instant in replying.
"For the past twenty years, a certain clan of the Yakuza has been buying, via Bangkok, raw opium from a Cambodian cult known as the Dragon's Breadth. After refining that opium in Tokyo, they smuggle it to various crime syndicates up and down the American West Coast. My people have merely exploited that connection so that we could smuggle some of our own into this country. Shapeshifters! With orders to abduct- -and replace- - various holders of military, political, and economic power."
Nightveil frowned: "It's not like the Vardax to be so subtle."
Trask laughed. "That humiliating defeat, fifteen years ago, taught us well. Brute force, alone, would not be enough to conquer this otherwise primitive mud ball. For a second invasion attempt to be more successful, it would have to be preceded by an interval of. . . patient slyness. Hence, our usurpation of the Temple of the Dragon's Breadth. The location of the Well of All Things. The only other interdimensional nexus on this planet!"
"For what purpose?" demanded Nightveil.
Trask's ensuing grin was annoyingly smug. "That you will see, soon enough."
The Black Owl could not restrain his mounting impatience any longer.
"Never mind all that! What about Rick Mason? Why did you abduct him? Did you know about his being an undercover Federal agent?"
"No. He merely barged in, unexpectedly, while another new arrival was practicing assuming his form as another step in our take-over of Trask's organization! Gunfire was exchanged; Mason's double was fatally wounded; and Mason, himself, escaped by running out on to the balcony, leaping over the railing, and running across the beach into the surf! All events subsequent to that. . .you obviously already know."
"You've been surprisingly co-operative in giving us this information," observed Nightveil. "Are you that scared of being swallowed alive?"
The translucent lenses in the webslinger's mask widened as he suddenly felt his spider-sense begin tingling.
"No! He's been stalling for time! Everybody dow. . .!"
The rest of his outcry was cut off by a fusillade of laser beams that started making the back wall of Trask's study resemble the proverbial Swiss cheese.
tbc
*Project: Golden Age: see chapter 9
