Night Lord tugged on the chains that held him fast to the wall of a condemned building. Electricity shot through his neck and down to his feet. He touched his neck and hit a plastic collar.
“It will do you no good.”
The Emerald Avenger emerged from the shadows.
Night Lord gulped. “I’ve heard of you. I thought you were a phantom.”
“No, I’m real, and you’re going to die.”
“What? Aren’t you going to turn me in to the cops?”
“You confuse me with Powerhouse. I am judge, jury, and executioner.”
The Emerald Avenger pressed a but-ton on a remote control. A shock jolted through Night Lord’s body.
“You will die for the murder of Reverend Jones.”
A still stronger shock pulsed agony through Night Lord.
“You will die for the murder of Jimmy Olsen. And you will die for dealing drugs.”
Electricity sizzled through Night Lord. He screamed. “Look, you freak. I didn’t kill any dorky white newsboys or Reverend Jones.”
“Not that Jimmy Olsen. This one’s black and eleven years old and likes to play soccer and basketball.”
“Look, I don’t kill preachers or babies, be they black babies or white ones.” His dealers did on occasion, but that wasn’t his fault.
“Then who did?”
“I can’t tell, I’d be a dead man.”
The Emerald Avenger waved the remote control.
“Okay, okay! I’ll go to the cops, confess everything, and they can lock me up. And I’ll tell you who killed Reverend Jones, if you promise not to kill me.”
“Fair enough.”
“It was Marcos.”
“Ross’s right hand man?”
“Who’s Ross?” He worked for Marcos.
“Why should I believe you? Your dealers told me your headquarters was Safe-co Field.”
“You don’t say anything about Mar-cos, particularly if it ain’t true.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?”
“Unfortunately, you’re still going to fry.” The Emerald Avenger pressed the button.
Continued Next Tuesday
Tales of the Dim Knight is coming out as book November 22nd
In the gym, Rick Westinghall watched the Business channel, as he lifted weights.
“We now go live to Pittsburgh, where Sariah Miller, the acting president of Sword Comics, is announcing the launch of a new comic and the comeback of one of Amer-ica’s most legendary heroes.”
The TV cut to Sariah Miller standing outside a building with—Captain Justice.
“Captain Justice! Captain Justice!” Cursing, Westinghall threw the weights across the room.
Sariah finished speaking. Captain Justice came to the mic. “Thank you. Sword comics was home to my son’s comic book, and we’re honored to continue to work to provide this great company with the stories that has made it a house-hold name.”
This isn’t happening!
Westinghall ripped the TV out of the wall socket and threw it up to the ceiling. “You’re dead, dead!”
He picked up the phone and dialed the number of his benefactor.
After Morgan closed the HV connect-ion, Kendell turned to Snyder and frowned. “What was that all about?”
Something I would rather not explain.
“Why are we taking orders from a Colonel in Idaho? How are you even communicating?”
Snyder sighed. “I’m on to something big. Thousands, if not millions of lives are at stake and Colonel Morgan is helping me save them. As to the communication, it was the same way I was playing guitar.”
Kendell said, “What time is it?”
“About 0315.”
She repeated the time quite loudly. “It was just 2030. How did—you drugged me. You little weasel, you drugged me. You ought to be fast asleep with that codeine, but you’re not because you switched cups when I wasn’t looking.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I needed to access my files and didn’t think you’d let me.”
“I shouldn’t have. Like I shouldn’t have let you play a holo guitar. But I would have. Dread doesn’t know the first thing about intelligence and carries a lot of petty grudges. That’s why I’m here on guard duty.”
“What did you do?”
“He wanted me to entertain him and I told him no. He’s hated me ever since. Anyway, the Colonel said for you to get some rest, and I think I’ll get mine back at my quarters. Where’s Sergeant Monroe? She’s usually on time.”
“Your relief is Sergeant Mezzner at 0800.”
“So I’m stuck here for the next five hours.”
“On the bright side, you only have to work half a day, and you get to sleep in.”
“Don’t try to sound like you’re doing me a favor.”
“Like you said, Dread doesn’t know squat about intelligence, and there could be millions of lives at stake.”
“Remember, he told you to get some rest.”
“The operative word is ‘some.’ I’ve got more to piece together before morn-ing. I figure at 0500, I’ll be able to get a couple hours sleep before Colonel Morgan gets here.”
“You need more than two hours sleep.”
“With all due respect, Sarge, you’re not my mother.”
Kendell stepped back as if he’d slapped her. “No, I’m not anyone’s mother. I’m going back to sleep. Wake me at 0500.”
Can Lois Lane convince one of the Inca leaders that the Pan-am Highway bring world peace. Meanwhile, Clark Kent reuses a plan that already didn’t work.
Original Air Date: December 5, 1941
Click hereto download, click here to add this podcast to your Itunes,click here to vote for us on Podcast Alley.
Small Packages stared up at the sun-less sky. “Bro, keep an eye out. Comman-der Justice will be back any second.”
“I don’t know about that,” Revelator said. “He could make it home or—”
“He’ll be back” The Sword paced. “Pantheon’s dead. Ice Cube’s dead. Texas Ranger’s dead. The Tarantula King’s dead.”
“Not yet,” Revelator said. “Curador is working on him, and I picked up a clear thought pattern. He’s scared, but he’s alive. I’d give him a good shot.”
“That’s a good turn, at least. Defen-der, Lord History, Skyscraper, I want to talk to you and to Revelator.” The Sword put his blade on the ground and jumped on it. “Blade, expand.”
He rose into the air above them. “I want an explanation, and I want it now.”
“I was approached—” Captain Revol-ution said.
Commander Justice came hurtling to-wards the ground. Skyscraper expanded upwards in height to catch Commander Justice and brought Commander Justice to the ground. Small Packages said, “Nice catch, bro.”
The Sword turned to Commander. “Are you okay?”
Commander Justice nodded. “You won’t believe where I just was.”
The Sword put a hand out. “In a moment, Commander. As you were saying, Revolution.”
“I was approached by Dark Mystic. He proposed we kill those he identified as essential members of the team and those of us who agreed to participate would join forces to kill the rest in wholesale slaughter. When we finished the rest of you off, he would let us go home.”
“And you agreed to treason?”
“It occurred to me that someone would. I joined the scheme to foil it. I asked permission to go after the Defender first. I needed an ally to help me stage the fake murders and help foil the traitors. I brought along a chemical solution that, when added to a bit of blood, will take on its properties, thus allowing me set up the crime scenes.”
“Why Defender? You hate him.”
“Exactly. No one would expect an alliance between me and the Defender. That’s what made it so perfect. I saved Revelator and Lord History from Pantheon and made her believe she’d killed them, and drugged and kidnapped Skyscraper.”
Skyscraper rubbed his arm. Small Packages stared at the needle track on his left arm. “You okay, bro?”
Skyscraper nodded.
The Sword asked, “Did anyone else know?”
“Curador,” said Captain Revolution.
Revelator nodded. “Pantheon got me pretty bad. We had to bring in Curador.”
Captain Revolution said, “Dark My-stic wanted an American conspirator as well. When I changed cottages and Taran-tula King became my roommate, he was willing to join in.”
The Sword folded his arms. “And the reason you didn’t think I needed to know?”
“The fewer people who knew, the better.”
“I’m sure we all appreciate living in terror the past three and a half days while you guys have been having a grand time kidnapping folks and playing games!”
Captain Revolution glared. “If not for me, Pantheon would have killed a lot of people.”
“Bull. You could have alerted me and we could have brought her in. Instead, you decided to hot shot it, and undermined our cohesion and trust in one another.”
The Sword zoomed over the heroes on his blade. “Look, folks, we may never fight together again. The Guild of Heroes is look-ing like one of the worst ideas I ever had. But until we get home and can all go back to being lone wolves, I don’t want to see this type of thing happen ever again. De-fender, Revelator, and Revolution, you have really disappointed me.”
Revelator shook his head. “I’m head-ed back to camp.”
“We’re not done. Commander Justice had some information.”
“I read his mind. All I’m going to see here is you making a jerk of yourself. I’ve seen enough of that for one day.”
Revelator walked away.
Tarantula King charged towards their location.
The Sword said, “Tarantula King, I’m glad to see you—”
Tarantula King jumped Captain Rev-olution and wrapped his arms around Rev-olution’s throat. “I’m not going back!”
Revolution threw off Tarantula King, leapt on his back, and inserted a syringe into one of his left arms. Tarantula King passed out.
Captain Revolution stood. “He’ll be out for a good six hours.”
“Good,” The Sword said. “We’ve got six hours then to figure out why everyone’s going crazy.”
Colonel Morgan awoke to tapping on his door. He groaned. Dear Lord, what is it at this hour? The clock by his bed read 03:09.
Colonel Morgan said, “Who is it?”
“Sir, Corporal Perry, sir. There’s a priority red message from Army Intelli-gence.”
“I’ll take it. Feed it into my HV.”
Private Snyder appeared in his bedroom window inside what looked like the stockade.
Colonel Morgan frowned. “Private, what are you doing on this frequency? Priority red messages may only be sent by officers.”
“Sir, my apologies. Were you aware the information you had me send you could only be released by the commanding Colonel?”
“I asked Intelligence and was denied. I have a responsibility to protect Latah County. I can’t waste precious time jump-ing through bureaucratic hoops.”
“I feel the same way about using the Red frequency.”
“Fair enough. By the way, Private, is that the stockade?”
“Sir, this is where honoring your request got me, and I need you to get me out. I’ve uncoded the last part of Oerz. End game is tonight. And I can’t stop it from in here.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“Oerz’s endgame asks the player to buy certain items. I haven’t been able to identify the purpose of each, but I can positively identify that a couple chemicals are key explosives. The rest I’m having the computer decode.”
“Snyder,” said a dazed female voice behind Snyder. “What’s going on?”
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