Continued from Part Seventeen

Jirel sat at the writing desk in his quarters. A voice came from the HV window behind him. “Meet me at the Wild Acres Casino in Vegas in forty-five. I’ll be out front in a Coke Delivery van.”

“McGraw? Is that you?”

“Quiet, fool. If you care about Snyder, meet me in forty-five. No questions.”

Jirel stood. “I’m on my way.”

~~~ 

Jirel ducked into a red Coke van. The burly driver had a beard and mustache.

“I got business we need to take care of,” McGraw said behind his fake whiskers.

“Business?”

“Yeah, with that Greywolf woman. Do you know who she is?”

“She’s fornicating with Snyder.”

McGraw laughed. “Believe me, if that were all, I’d be back on the ranch helping those kids.”

“How do you even know about her?”

“I get a weekly intelligence report on everyone I care about, including Snyder. I started noticing the long hours worked in Emergency Ops and trips to Vegas where he stayed in Greywolf’s hotel room. Next I found her making big gambling wins up and down the strip. Snyder’s better than I thought. Cheating machines built to cheat the customer is a tall order. So I became curious about who this lady is. It’s not pretty.”

Jirel’s nose could tell him that. “What did you find?”

“Her record begins seventeen years ago. At sixteen, she got emancipated and obtained a judge’s order to terminate her parents. She married the judge at seventeen. Six months after the wedding, he had an accident and she had him termed. Next, it was off to West Point on the recommendation of her Congressman. That’s when it started.”

“What?”

McGraw handed Jirel a stack of photographs. Jirel sifted through them; pictures of six young Native American cadets.

“All killed in accidents during her time at the academy.” McGraw pulled out a manila envelope. “Another fifteen in here, including two more she’d married. Dig deep enough, and what do you find? Most of these guys got promoted by her before their demise, in many cases right after some unfortunate accident occurred to the person whose job they took.”

Jirel swallowed. “So, Snyder’s in that casino with a serial killer.”

Continued…Next Thursday

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Clark Kent engages in a high speed chase with Dr. Roebling’s nephew but will Kent be fast enough to catch them.

Original Air Date: August 6, 1941

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Continued from Part Two

Father Douglas eyed the parishioners lining up for confession and sighed. Father Brady asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Arnold Witter’s in line.”

“So?”

“Every time there’s a big crime in the news, he comes here and confesses to it.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I just give him his penance for lying and send him on his way.”

“It’s time to get started.”

###  

Marcos reached the front of the line. This was beneath him, but what else could he do to escape Jones’ face? Why did it haunted him in his dreams like this? He’d killed many men before without a second thought. So why couldn’t he get a lick of sleep without valium?

He entered the confessional. Thank-fully, this parish didn’t know him. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

The priest asked, “How long has it been since your last confession?”

Good question. How long had it been? “Twenty-six years.”

“I see. So what is this sin?”

“I killed an innocent man, that Rev-erend Jones. I can’t get him out of my head. I don’t feel any guilt over hiring that guy with the rocket who killed all those people compared to what I did to that Reverend.”

“So you not only killed Reverend Jones, you’re responsible for all twenty of those deaths downtown.”

“Yes.”

“We all make mistakes, son. Say five Our Fathers and three Hail Mary’s.”

What? “I just told you I killed a man.”

“And I just told you to say five Our Fathers and three Hail Mary’s.”

“But I’ve killed a lot of people”

“I know. Just say five Our Fathers and three Hail Mary’s. That’ll suffice.”

“But it’s not going to—”

“You could confess to the police if you would like.”

“Fine, I’ll say the penance.” Marcos left.

 ### 

The parishioner after Arnold said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Douglas still didn’t look up. “How long has it been since your last confession?”

“Four days.”

“What is this sin?”

“I killed Reverend Jones and all those people downtown.”

Oh no. Father Douglas peered through the screen at the confessor. “Arnold! If this is you, then who…” He cupped his mouth. He raced from the confessional.

Only the normal parishioners remained outside. “Oh, my God! What have I done?”

 ###

A few hundred feet away, Marcos rose up from his penance. Reverend Jones’s face greeted him. “Father, forgive him…”

Never. God would never forgive him.

Continued…Next Tuesday

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Continued from Part Five

Captain Justice hurled a smoke grenade into the midst of the drug dealers in the alley. He dashed in with his night vision goggles on. He got the first thug on the chin, knocking him to the ground. He unholstered his tranquilizer gun and fired at the second.

 Dart after dart found their target until seven thugs lay sprawled on the ground. Never understood the ropes the other heroes used. Tranqs were less work and easier for the police to pick up.

He walked through the alley. One got away. Only one place he could have gone. Over the wall.

Captain Justice charged the wall and leapt clean over the ten-foot obstruction. The fleeing drug dealer’s footsteps echoed in the distance. Captain Justice sped through the alley. Almost on the drug dealer.

The thug glanced back and sped up.

As if that’ll help you.

He turned a corner. The dealer had van-ished. He stared up. Nothing. Focusing, a faint orange glowed appeared around every heat source. He scanned down the street. Nothing. He turned left onto another alley.

A garbage can up against the brick wall showed the bright orange glow of a human heat pattern.

Ah ha! Captain Justice lunged towards the bottom of the trash can, overturning it.

The drug dealer tumbled out. Captain Justice jumped onto the thug’s chest and grabbed the gun out of his hand.

Captain Justice aimed his tranq gun and fired a shot into the perpetrator’s arm. A second later, the guy was out cold. Captain Justice hoisted the drug dealer on his back, ran back to the wall and jumped over it, this time only clearing it by two inches. He placed the drug dealer near his compatriots with the evidence. The police would find them.

Captain Justice walked away.

A spasm ripped up his leg.

He crumpled to the pavement, clutched his knee, and screamed. With effort, he soft-ened the noise tearing out of him to a moan.

Dr. Baxter’s laundry truck pulled up in front of the alley. Doc jumped out of the car and ran over. “Cap, what happened?”

“I think I tore something.”

Dr. Baxter hoisted him up, offering his shoulder as a crutch. “Let’s get back to the office. I’ll figure out what happened.”

Captain Justice limped to the laundry truck. If I can’t handle one simple mission, how can I ever go back?

Continued…Next Monday

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Continued from Part Sixteen

Snyder stared at the seventeen-year-old private seated across the conference table from him. He slid a report across the desk. “Care to explain this, Mardman?”

Mardman peered down at the Iboard. “Looks like my performance ranking.”

“It looks like garbage. You were playing Helicopter Commando so vigorously, you let this report go unanswered for fifteen minutes.”

“It was a false alarm.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“But it was.”

Snyder put up his hand. “Any report can be, and your first priority is to be there for the report. And then you only got seventy percent of these right. The only good news is that you wasted the time of our specialists with false reports that kept them from their work rather than letting something slide through the cracks.”

“So? They got plenty of time.”

Snyder slammed his fist down on the table. “But they’re doing your job! Effective immediately, I’m suspending your access to Helicopter Commando. Don’t try hacking it. I’ll find out.”

“Jimenez never did that!”

Jimenez probably didn’t know how. “Jimenez ran our team as a last place team in both quality of our scores and efficiency.”

“What do you expect? We’re on Z-row. Only total losers end up—”

“Keep digging. I’ll see your hide in the infantry, on loan to an African warlord.”

Mardman smoldered. “Are you this nice to everyone on our team?”

“No. Some people need help learning the job. I don’t think you do. I think you’re just lazy and undisciplined.”

“Other than staying Intelligence, what’s in this for me?”

“When opportunities or a better seat comes up, the first thing the captain looks at is performance rankings. Do your job right, and you get off my team.”

Mardman smiled. “Now, that’s an incentive.”

Continued…Next Thursday

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Clark Kent is stuck at the scene of an accident while Lois Lane is locked in a hotel room, and Dr. Roebling no good nephew is extorting information from him.

Original Air Date: August 4, 1941

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Clark Kent and Lois Lane begin investigating a couple registered a phony name.

Original Air Date: August 1, 1941

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Continued from Part One

Powerhouse sat in the back row at Reverend Jones’ funeral. His black Jimmy Olsen finally finished the epic poem he’d written in Jones’ honor and pointed at the audience. “Powerhouse.”

He jumped up. Him? Sure, everyone else had been called on to participate, but—oh, why not? “Reverend Jones was a very fine man. He cared for people and for this community. I could tell that though I only knew him a short time.”

That was too short a tribute; Jones deserved more. “He wore a size 11 shoe, I know that much, and he had this really ugly scar on his left leg. It was very distinct, just as he was. That scar was the story of his life, no, the story of all mankind.”

The congregation looked at each other with puzzled frowns.

Powerhouse launched into “You Light Up My Life.” Half way through, he forgot the rest of the words and finished with “O Danny Boy” instead.

The congregation exchanged more confused looks, but applauded.

During the procession past the casket, Jimmy Olsen broke down crying. “Who will take care of us now?”

Powerhouse slipped in from behind and placed a hand on the young shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jimmy, Powerhouse will handle everything.”

Outside, Powerhouse powered up his jet pack with focused visualization, and took to flight over the inner city projects. He shook his head. Most of the funeral-goers seemed at peace, even rejoicing. He’d never seen anything like it. They all believed Jones had gone to a better place. It would be his job to fix things here on Earth.

Continued…Next Tuesday

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Continued from Part Four

Dr. Lenny Baxter sat in a laundry truck, monitoring Captain Justice’s vitals. Stable. The radio crackled. “Doc, I see something.”

Heart rate up. Lenny pressed the button on his two way radio. “What is it, Cap?”

“A drug deal. Big. Looks like eight guys down there. Cops would take months to set this up, and I just stumbled into it.”

“I’ll call the police, Cap.”

“No time.”

“I agreed to monitor your vitals against a single opponent. This is too much.”

“Sorry to ruin the test.”

Heart rate way up.

“Cap?”

Continued…Next Monday

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Clark Kent is arrested on the train

Original Air Date: July 30, 1941

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This great Serial radio show from the 1940s is brought to you by Laser and Sword Magazine, Laser and Sword Online store and download Issue 1 for free or purchase the Annual Edition containing 11 action packed stories+