“I don’t think we can move it, Margo,” Harry Vincent said.
“No,” Margo said.
They were both down intently studying the damage. Stanley stood looking down into the dark ravine. Far below, the flames of the burning car flickered in the yawning maw of blackness.
Stanley peered down to see what happened below where he knew The Shadow was inspecting the wreck.
None of them heard the soft footsteps that stepped close in the mountain twilight.
“Just freeze,” a hard voice said.
Stanley whirled. His hand snaked toward the automatic inside his uniform jacket. He saw the men who stood in a semi-circle on the road all around himself, Margo and Harry Vincent.
Stanley moved his hand away from his gun. All ten of the men were armed with Czech-made sub-machineguns. The leader who had spoken nodded.
“That’s a smart boy,” his hard voice said lazily.
Margo and Harry Vincent stood up slowly from where they had been crouched. The cold eyes of the leader of the men flicked toward Margo and Harry.
“Be cool now,” the man said.
Margo looked at the leader. She recognized the black uniform with the white circle of CYPHER on the breast, and the mark of the rank of a CYPHER Group Sub-Leader. She also recognized the insignia of the United States Special Forces on his black uniform, and the ribbons of the Silver Star, Bronze Star and Purple Heart with two oak leaves. The other nine men could have been a cross section of the United Nation—all in the black uniform with the white circle of CYPHER, and all with the insignia of the Armies of their own deserted countries.
“Everybody keep their cool and we’ll all get along,” the Group Sub-Leader said. His cold eyes flickered again. “Where’s the other one? Cranston?”
Stanley, Margo and Harry were silent.
“Check the cars,” the Sub-Leader said without looking at his men.
Two black-uniformed soldiers checked each car. They all shook their heads. The Sub-Leader considered Harry, Margo and Stanley.
“Was he with you? My orders say get Cranston.”
“He wasn’t with us,” Margo said.
“Where is he?” the Sub-Leader asked.
Margo shrugged, spread her hands out in front of her. “I don’t know.”
Margo passed her left hand close to her face. The small ring radio was directly before her lips.
“Chief! It’s CYPHER! They … . .”
The Sub-Leader jerked his head. A black-uniformed soldier stepped to Margo and hit her in the face. She went down and out. The Sub-Leader watched Stanley and Harry Vincent. Both men stood helpless. The Sub-Leader nodded.
“Cool, man, cool, that’s the way to play,” the Sub-Leader said lazily. “Okay, she got out a warning. Probably that Cranston is somewhere around. Numbers Eight, Nine and Ten stay here. Take cover and see if anyone comes.”
The three soldiers named slipped out of sight in the night that was not dark. The rest marched Margo, Stanley and Harry Vincent along the road. A quarter of a mile away a truck waited. The CYPHER soldiers herded Margo, Stanley and Harry into the back, and four climbed in with them.
The other three got into the cab. The truck drove away on the highway toward the south.
The night became silent again. The two cars sat in the road.
Where they hid in the dark the three CYPHER soldiers were alert, their sub-machineguns ready, their eyes watching the two abandoned cars and the road.
They never saw the fiery eyes that suddenly watched them from the edge of the deep ravine.
The Shadow saw them clearly in the dark. The Avenger studied them and their positions for a long minute. Then his burning eyes vanished.
The men of CYPHER saw and heard nothing.
The first one suddenly felt fingers of steel on his throat. He opened his mouth to yell, the fingers squeezed a point on his neck, and the soldier slumped unconscious.
The second CYPHER soldier was more alert. He heard nothing, not a sound nor a movement in the dark night around him where he watched the deserted road. But he sensed something, he was alert and wary, checking all around him frequently and irregularly. The last time he turned to be sure no one was to his right, he stared straight into two burning eyes. He gave a short cry before the fingers closed on his throat and he slumped unconscious.
The third one heard the cry, whirled with his sub-machinegun pointed straight at where The Shadow loomed in the dark like a shape of the night itself. Two shots rang out. The third CYPHER man was hurled backwards and sprawled dead on the ground. The Shadow emerged from the dark with his automatics in both hands. He looked down at the dead man who had been hit by both shots straight in the heart. Then he turned and glided silently back to the second CYPHER man.
His eyes blazing like points of fire in the night, the dark Avenger concentrated his powers on the fallen man. He sent the cloud of power to cloud the mind of the black-uniformed soldier in the army of violence-for-hire. The soldier stirred where he lay on the ground. The Shadow’s powers reached in like long fingers and took hold of the man’s mind. The man came awake. His eyes opened. He looked up at the great, looming black shape of The Shadow. His eyes showed fear. First fear and then anger. And after the anger the man shook his head, looked around, and then smiled at The Shadow.
“You have captured Cranston,” The Shadow said. “Where will you take him?”
“Contract headquarters,” the soldier said promptly, the white circle of CYPHER clear on his breast even in the dark night.
“You have a prime contract?” The Shadow asked.
“Yes, Class One Contract, full security and protection, Battalion strength,” the man answered crisply.
“With whom is the contract?”
The soldier stiffened, then relaxed, but shook his head. “Negative, sir. Such information is not in my class.”
The eyes of The Shadow were grim, but not surprised. He had been sure that this CYPHER
soldier would, as usual, know no more than his immediate job. However, the man’s immediate job might be enough for the purpose of the Avenger. “Where did they take the others? Contract headquarters?”
“Yes.”
“Can you take me to Contract Headquarters? I am under orders from Sub-Commandant Nine,”
The Shadow said, the powers of his mind forcing the mind of the CYPHER soldier to accept his statement and instantly respond. Once the CYPHER man had accepted the truth of the statement within his mind, the responses then became automatic.
“Yes sir! I can take you to the first gate. I am not programmed beyond the first gate. A Sub-Group Leader will take you to the second gate.”
“Very good,” The Shadow said. “I commend your discipline. I have my own transport. You will drive.”
“Yes sir!”
“Now!” The Shadow snapped.
The CYPHER soldier jumped up as if he had been whipped. He stood at attention until The Shadow ordered him to the undamaged green car. While the CYPHER man went to the car, The Shadow bent over the other CYPHER soldier who was still alive and concentrated his powers on the man. The man’s unconscious mind lay open for the instructions of The Shadow. The Avenger silently impressed his orders on the fallen man’s brain: the man would remain asleep for three hours; when he awoke he would remember nothing; he would remain here as if nothing had happened until someone ordered him away. The Shadow studied the man for a moment, and then turned and glided swiftly through the night to the green car. He got in beside the CYPHER soldier who waited behind the wheel.
“Proceed!” the Avenger snapped.
The CYPHER man started the car and drove it off in the night toward the south— away from the direction of the Federal Cybernetics plant! The Shadow’s eyes narrowed. Had he been wrong?
Was the staff of Federal innocent in the entire affair? Then who was behind it all? Who could afford the price of CYPHER to protect him, and for what? It was undoubtedly CYPHER who had performed the sabotage and the killings, and CYPHER came at a very high price. What was important enough?
“Faster!” The Shadow commanded.
“Sir!”
The green car jumped ahead in the night. The CYPHER man was a good driver and the small car raced around the mountain curves its lights probing the darkness like long feelers. The highway led south and east and slowly deeper into the high mountains. It was a deserted road, few cars came from the other direction. Suddenly the CYPHER man drove around a long sweeping curve and turned sharply off the road to the left. The green car plunged into a narrow dirt road.
The driver was forced to slow down as the narrow side road was rough and rutted. It climbed upward at a steep angle through the dark forest that covered the mountainsides.
“We are near contract headquarters?” The Shadow asked.
“Yes sir. Gate One is not far.”
The Shadow sat alert. If he knew the methods of CYPHER, and he did only too well, there would be tight and efficient security methods employed around the first gate. They would have the approaches under surveillance without a doubt. The Avenger hissed to his CYPHER driver.
“Stop before we are in sight of the gate!”
The man blinked, hesitated as if his mind was in a battle between the suspicion such an order gave him and the power of the Shadow that controlled him. Finally he nodded.
“Yes sir!”
Moments later the green car came to a halt. The Shadow looked around. There was nothing in sight but the thick forest of trees, the steep mountainsides, and the empty road that went around a sharp curve ahead.
“First gate is just around the curve, sir!” the CYPHER man said.
“Remain here!” The Shadow commanded.
“Sir!”
The Shadow slipped from the green car and plunged into the dark forest of trees. In the gloom he climbed rapidly upward toward a faint line of lighter black that showed where the top of the mountain was. He reached the top and stood among the trees looking out. What he saw was a vast yet narrow valley set deep among the mountains. All around the crest he stood on, which he now saw was only the crest of a low ridge, were the towering bare peaks of the great mountain range. Sweeping valleys loomed in the dark. With his night sight he could see the mountains and the valleys as clear as other men could see them in the day. At first, even with his night sight, this was all the Shadow saw.
Then he saw what he had been looking for since the moment he had begun his investigation of the sabotage.
It stood in a deep and narrow side valley off the main valley between the mountains peaks. A narrow side valley hidden from all sides. It was heavily camouflaged. There was a moveable roof, now pulled back, but that could be extended in the day. There were camouflaged buildings set into the base of the mountain around it. Even The Shadow had difficulty seeing it, and in the day, camouflaged, it would have been almost totally hidden unless someone were specifically looking for it.
It was a giant rocket!
The largest rocket The Shadow had ever seen.
It stood on its launching pad, its gantry attached. And at its tip that towered so high above the ground was an unmistakable space capsule! !
A space capsule of the type intended to land somewhere and not simply orbit! ! !
The Shadow had found the reason behind it all. Someone was launching a private rocket! !
Someone who did not want the United States or The Soviet Union to reach the Moon!
A secret Moon shot! ! !
The Shadow’s fiery eyes blazed in the dark. Now it was all clear. The Avenger stared out across the valley to the tall rocket. It was a design he had never seen—bigger and heavier.
A powerful space vehicle. And already the fuel tanks were vaporizing in small clouds at the base.
The rocket was ready to launch! The Shadow could see that much, his scientific knowledge confirmed it, but he could not be sure of exactly how soon it would go. But it would be soon, and there was no time to waste.
He turned in the night and glided swiftly back down the ridge to the waiting green car. He climbed into the car and his mind was made up. There was not time to make his own way through the CYPHER defenses and find a way to stop the rocket and bring the guilty to justice.
There was no time to find Margo, Stanley and Harry and free them on his own. He ordered the CYPHER soldier.
“You have captured Lamont Cranston. There was a fight and one man is dead. But you captured Cranston and have brought him to contract headquarters as instructed. You will remember nothing else. We will drive to the first gate and when you arrive you will be in command of yourself, you will tell them about Cranston, and you will forget everything else.”
The CYPHER soldier nodded and started the green car. It drove slowly around the curve and for another quarter of a mile. There the road ended in a dead end at the base of a high cliff. The driver blew his horn. From all around lights blazed on. The black uniforms of CYPHER emerged from the forest and hills all around the car. The seemingly solid wall opened and a tall man in the black uniform of a CYPHER Group Sub-Leader stepped out. It was the same man who had captured Margo, Stanley and Harry. The Sub-Leader walked warily to the green car. He peered in. Then he smiled at the figure he saw sitting beside the CYPHER Soldier.
Lamont Cranston sat where The Shadow had been moments before!
The wealthy socialite had his hands bound with a thin cord of the type carried by every CYPHER soldier. He glared in a kind of fear at the Sub-Leader who looked in the car window at him. The Sub-Leader nodded to the CYPHER soldier. His automatics were in the pockets of the CYPHER man.
“Good work,” the Sub-Leader said. “He came easy?”
“No,” the soldier said. “There was a fight. Number nine is dead. Eight is unconscious back on the road. But I got him.”
“You sure did,” the Sub-Leader drawled. His cold eyes looked at Cranston. “You were careless, Mr. Cranston. After your lady friend warned you and all. Very careless.”
Cranston feigned ignorance and anger. “What the devil is all this? Who are you people?”
The Sub-Leader turned away. “Save it all, Cranston. You think we’re amateurs? You think I’m not briefed on you? You know who we are, and you know what it’s all about. Now you just sit back and be calm because you’re going to join your friends!”
The Sub-Leader made a gesture. Two more CYPHER soldiers piled into the rear of the green car and the car drove off through the gap in the seemingly solid cliff wall. They entered a dark tunnel, and then emerged on the far side on a road that was no more than a narrow track that wound down the mountainside into the small valley. They drove across the valley floor and were stopped twice by carefully hidden guard-posts—gates two and three! At gate two the driver who had brought Cranston, and the other two soldiers from gate one were replaced by new CYPHER
men. As the soldier had told Cranston, he was not cleared to go beyond the first gate. Cranston could not help admiring the efficient security of CYPHER!
At last the green car was driven up to one of the four low, camouflaged buildings that blended into the cliff face. The great rocket towered less than a half a mile away down the narrow and hidden canyon. Even as Cranston watched, men worked feverishly around the towering space vehicle. There was no way of telling how soon the rocket would blast-off, but it was clear that it would not be long. Cranston knew that there was little time to stop what was happening as the CYPHER guards marched him into the building. Inside the building he was pushed along a dim corridor until he knew that he was deep inside the mountain itself. He was turned into a side corridor. A door was opened. Cranston was flung inside where he sprawled on the stone floor in the complete and silent darkness.
The door clanged shut.
Silence.
Cranston sat up slowly. He rubbed his eyes and peered into the black as if he could see nothing—an act in case anyone of CYPHER were watching, which he was sure they were. He pretended to be able to see nothing. But he saw everything clearly.
He saw Margo, Stanley and Harry Vincent seated against the wall in the dark. Cranston sat up. Margo, her eyes accustomed to the dark, saw him now.
“Lamont! How …”
Cranston’s eyes warned her to silence. “Yes, Margo, I’m afraid they outwitted me. I’m sorry. It looks like we’re all in the same boat now. Did you see the rocket? It is almost ready to count down from the look of it. We have to find out just what it is, what they plan to do with it! There is little time.”
The words were innocent enough, but Margo and the others understood what Cranston, or The Shadow, was telling them—that he had allowed himself to be captured so that he could get to the rocket and the people behind it as fast as possible. Margo took up the cue quickly.
“But how, Lamont? We are helpless here!”
Cranston feigned despair. “We have to find a way out! We must learn what is going on!”
There was a sudden low laugh that came from nowhere. A voice that spoke from the stone walls of the cell. Cranston’s eyes flashed for an instant. He had been right, of course, they were under secret scrutiny from some hidden point in the walls. The voice spoke hard and yet muffled.
“You will never know, Cranston. Bring them out!”
The door suddenly opened again and five guards entered. They made no sound. They herded Cranston, Margo, Stanley and Harry Vincent out at gunpoint into the dim corridor again. They marched the four agents along many dim corridors deep inside the mountain. The march seemed to go on for a long time. Until at last they were pushed out into a gigantic room carved out of a natural cave inside the mountain.
The room was lighted as bright as day. The four blinked in the light.
On long rows of chairs they saw what looked like an entire CYPHER battalion. Hundreds of men in black uniforms with the white circle of CYPHER on their breasts. Every one of the men in black was turned to look at them.
One man in the grey tunic and slim blue trousers of a CYPHER General Staff Leader stepped toward Cranston and the others. The gold circle of CYPHER glistened on his breast. He wore the insignia of a Section Director, and the old insignia of a General in the Brazilian Army. He held a long, official paper, and his finger pointed straight at Cranston.
“Turn! Face the court!”
Cranston and the other turned and looked at the other side of the bright room.
Five men in the grey tunic and blue trousers of CYPHER’S High Command sat on a row of raised thronelike chairs. Their cold faces stared at the four prisoners. The Section Director who had commanded them to turn spoke once more.
“Court-Martial is in session!”
To Be Continued Tuesday at...Please Support Hero HistoriesVisit Amazon and Buy...by James Patterson and Brian Sitts
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