THE SHADOW: DESTINATION MOON Chapter 7

(You can read the previous chapter HERE!)
7

The Shadow peered in the window with a sinking feeling. Had the shots been for Margo? Had he waited too long? Had the desire to solve the sabotage cost Margo her life? The questions whirled in the mind of the black-garbed Avenger. Then his mind clamped down its control, focused its powers, and analyzed the facts.

The shots had come from in front of the house. Margo would certainly not be killed before she talked unless Colonel Derian had made a mistake, and Derian was not the kind of man who made mistakes. And even as The Shadow watched the scene inside the office of Misygyn, he saw that it could not be Margo who had been shot.

The two armed guards who had been with Margo ran into the office with their pistols drawn.

They had panic on their faces, their eyes were wild with apprehension until they saw Misygyn.

They also saw General Rogers and covered him with their guns. Misygyn waved them off.

“No, you fools, outside!” the diplomat said. “The shots came from outside! Find out what has happened! Are the others still here?”

“Yes, Excellency,” one of the armed guards said.

“He has gone to find the source of the shots,” the second guard said, obviously referring to Colonel Derian, but not wanting to mention the name or presence of the Colonel in front of Rogers.

“Help him!” Misygyn snapped.

The diplomat was obviously agitated, disturbed. The Shadow watched the heavy-set man pace the office. And he watched General Rogers who sat now quiet and composed in a chair as if he had no interest in the shots at all. In the midst of the chaos and pandemonium, Rogers remained calm and apparently unconcerned. The Shadow’s eyes glowed. Either Rogers had iron control, or he actually did not care about the shots.

The two armed men turned and ran from the room. At the window The Shadow moved. With the guards out searching for who had fired the shots, and with Derian and Vaslov alarmed and busy, it was The Shadow’s opportunity to free Margo. The black-shrouded figure glided away through the night toward the darkened windows on the far side of the mansion.

The Shadow moved soundlessly, a wraith of shadow in the dark, unseen and unheard by the guards searching the grounds to see who had fired the shots. But there was another wraith in the night. Only the super-power of the black Avenger’s hearing and vision in the dark revealed this second silent figure that moved through the grounds like a tiger stalking some jungle for its prey.

The Shadow heard the delicate footsteps and became an immobile shadow, a part of the night itself.

Colonel Derian passed within five feet of the black-garbed Avenger. The cobra-like face of the secret police officer was rigid with intensity as he looked and listened, an ugly pistol with a silencer in his hand. Derian moved without a sound, without a crackle of twigs or a movement of the air as he passed. The tall, cadaverous Colonel was an expert at stalking, and only The Shadow could have seen or heard him as he passed in the night and moved off toward the distant wall of the grounds. A feeling of cold remained long after the Colonel had passed.

When all was still again, the sound of the search by the guards moved far away to the other end of the spacious parklike grounds, The Shadow moved again toward the dark side of the mansion. His black-garbed figure was no more then the passing of dark air. He knew now that Colonel Derian and the two armed men were out in the night—but he had not seen Vaslov. His fiery eyes watched for the small, wiry scientist as he reached the dark windows of the mansion.

He neither saw nor heard the spy-scientist. Was Vaslov the victim of the shots? Or was Vaslov lurking somewhere to watch? Alert, The Shadow silently opened a window on the dark side of the house and vanished inside.

In the small, windowless, and soundproof room far below the office of Misygyn, Vaslov paced the soundless cork floor and listened for any further sounds from outside. He heard nothing in the soundproofed room. He had heard the shots, but not in this room. He had been upstairs with Derian when the shots split the night. The Colonel had sent him down to get the guards, to send the two guards up, and to take their place.

“This could be some attempt to rescue the woman,” Colonel Derian had said. “Be alert down there. Let no one into the room except myself. You know the signal.”

That had been ten minutes ago—ten minutes that seemed like hours to the nervous Vaslov.

The scientist was not suited for this work—which was why he had been a “sleeper” agent, a man who could pass all scrutiny in his assumed identity and work until it was time for him to become the active spy. He was a scientist who was also a spy, not a spy who was partly a scientist, and he was not happy with the demands of espionage. But it was his job, and he paced the silent room and watched the woman prisoner.

Margo, as Dr. Freda Talent, was seated on a heavy straight chair. It was a strange, macabre-looking chair: thick and heavy, with straps that held her wrists down on the heavy arms, and straps for her feet and neck. It looked like the electric chairs used in execution chambers. This chair, too, had wires attached and electronic controls. Margo, as the middle aged woman scientist, sat calmly in the chair, but small beads of sweat on her face showed that her calmness came only by an effort. Alone in the windowless and soundless room, she felt for the first time abandoned.

Vaslov paced and looked at his watch. The nervous scientist-spy held a pistol.

Margo sat in silence.

No sound came from anywhere.

The light in the room was feeble.

There was only one lamp to dispel the windowless gloom. A green-shaded bulb that hung from the ceiling and swayed hypnotically back and forth in a slow arc.

Neither Margo nor Vaslov saw or heard the outer door of the room open and close. There was a faint rush of air. Vaslov turned but saw nothing. The scientist blinked, stared, but the door was closed and he saw nothing and no one. Margo, too, had felt the sudden touch of moving air. She, too, saw nothing. But she knew who had entered the room. Her eyes were bright as she waited.

Vaslov looked at her. He saw her face. He was about to speak when the eerie laugh shattered the silence of the hidden room.

Vaslov whirled, his gun ready. “Who is it?”

The Russian scientist-spy blinked. He saw nothing. There were only the gloomy shadows in the empty and silent room.

“Who laughed? I heard a laugh!” Vaslov cried, his frantic eyes searching.

Vaslov whirled to Margo. “You heard? There was a laugh! I know someone laughed!”

Margo said nothing. Vaslov turned again, searched the gloom of the room with his frantic eyes. He turned back to Margo. He took her by the shoulders. He shook her.

“I heard it! You hear? I’m not going crazy! I heard a laugh. Someone is in this room! I’m not going crazy!”

Margo looked up coldly. “Where? Where is someone?”

Vaslov stared at her cold face. He looked all around and saw nothing. He looked back at Margo. Suddenly he reached out and slapped her face.

“Liar! You know! You… .”

The laugh of The Shadow came again, eerie and cold. The deep voice of the Avenger filled the room.

“Do you hear me, Vaslov? Or is it all a dream? Are you hearing a real voice, or are you going insane? Be sure, Vaslov!”

The small, wiry Russian crouched now, pointed his gun toward the gloomy shadows of the room. “I hear you! I hear a real voice! Don’t move or I will kill you!”

The laugh was mocking. “Can you kill what you cannot see? If I am real, why do you not see me, Vaslov?”

The Russian screamed. “I will see you! There, you are there!”

Vaslov fired into a dark corner. The bullet whined and bounced in the small room, luckily missing everyone. The laugh of The Shadow mocked the small scientist.

“I see you! I see you!” Vaslov shrieked in terror.

The scientist-spy pointed his gun at the corners of the room. He blinked and peered ahead, his gun pointing but not firing because he could still see nothing. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head that seemed to be growing thick. He rubbed his eyes with his left hand against a haze that seemed to be filling the room, a mist that rolled slowly into his brain, a cloud that fogged his vision. He could not seem to think.

“I … I … will … see you!”

Vaslov rubbed frantically at his eyes. Then his movements slowed. He shook his head, but it was a slow and weary shaking as if he knew now that he could not dissipate the cloud on his brain. He smiled as if now he did not want to escape the warm cloud that enfolded his mind.

Then, suddenly, as his will ceased to be his own, he saw the two fiery eyes that seemed to glow and burn through from the gloom of the hidden and silent room. He saw the eyes, and the hawk-nose beneath the wide brim of a black slouch hat. He saw the red fire-opal girasol on the long finger of steel, and the great black cape that flowed and blended into the dim gloom the room.

Vaslov smiled.

“I can see you!”

“Yes, Vaslov, you can now see me. But you cannot harm me. You are under my power, Vaslov, the power of The Shadow!”

Vaslov nodded. “Yes.”

“You will hand me your pistol, and you will sit on the floor,” The Shadow commanded.

Vaslov handed his pistol to the long hand of The Shadow, and sat obediently on the floor. The Shadow glided across the small room to Margo. He freed her and she stood up.

“For a moment I thought … . .” Margo began.

“I would have been here sooner, Margo, but there was much to hear upstairs,” The Shadow said.

The Avenger turned his great black shape to the seated and silent Vaslov. “Tell me what you were doing at Federal Cybernetics!”

“It was my job. They asked me to report anything unusual. I found the ledger. There was too much. I reported it.”

“Why do they want to know about anything unusual at Federal Cybernetics?” The Shadow demanded.

“Sabotage,” Vaslov said. “The project has failed many times. Derian came about the sabotage.”

“Yes, the sabotage,” The Shadow said softly. “How is it being done? How do they… .”

The cloaked Avenger stopped. His keen ears had heard the sounds far beyond the soundproofed room. Sounds that no one else could hear. Someone was walking toward the entrance down from upstairs to the cellar where the hidden room was located. The Shadow would not be trapped in the small room.

“Quick, Margo, to the door,” The Avenger snapped, and he turned his eyes toward the seated Vaslov. “You will not remember this. You will not remember me. You will say that Margo escaped by overpowering you!”

Vaslov nodded. “She overpowered me, yes. She took my pistol.”

The Shadow’s eyes glowed and without another word he turned and glided to the door. He opened the door with his powers and led Margo out into the dark cellar. The Shadow and Margo faded into the far reaches of the vast cellar. The door from above opened. Colonel Derian came down quickly and strode across the cellar to the door of the hidden room. The Colonel swore!

The door was not locked!!

Colonel Derian tore the door open and strode into the hidden room. He did not close the door behind him. Where they stood in the darkness of the cellar Margo and The Shadow could see the tall Colonel standing over Vaslov like the swaying shape of a coiled cobra. They heard the voice of Vaslov.

“She escaped. Took my gun. She attacked me by surprise.”

Derian’s voice was as cold and hard as a glacier. “She could not! How could she escape the chair?”

There was a pause. Then Vaslov said, puzzled. “I don’t know. She… she … must have had

… help. I … she overpowered me. She took my gun. She … . .”

“Who helped her?”

“I don’t know. I … I …”

“She could not have escaped!” Derian said. “Not without help, and you are the only person here.”

“I … . .” Vaslov began. Then his voice rose high. “No! No!”

The silenced shot echoed through the cellar. Vaslov was silent. In the room Colonel Derian stood with his pistol smoking in his hand.

The Shadow touched Margo and the two agents of justice crossed the cellar and went silently up the stairs.

Five minutes later The Shadow was again at the open window of Misygyn’s office. Margo had gone to the road where Shrevvie waited in the taxi. The Shadow’s fiery eyes watched the office through the window. General Calvin Rogers sat alone in the exact spot where The Shadow had last seen him. Rogers was smoking a cigarette and calmly reading a Russian periodical.

A moment later Misygyn came back into the office. The stocky diplomat stalked to his desk and sat down facing Rogers. The General looked up at the Russian. Misygyn stared at Rogers and his face was suffused with anger.

“We found a body, General!”

Rogers seemed to tense. “A body? What about who did the shooting?”

“No, we did not find the killer. But we found the body.”

Rogers leaned forward. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat, Excellency?”

“Yes, a threat!” Misygyn thundered. “Do you know what body we found? Out there inside our walls? On our grounds? Do you know?”

Rogers said nothing. Outside the window The Shadow was beginning to understand what the shots had been.

“Oates!” Misygyn stormed. “We found the body of Major John Oates of your Central Intelligence Agency! On our territory! Did you think we wouldn’t know?”

“Oates?” General Rogers said slowly.

“You thought I did not know Major Oates? Yes, I know the Major. Now he is dead—shot on Soviet territory! Spying! What was he spying for, General? What was he up to?”

“How should I know?” Rogers said calmly.

“Liar!” Misygyn thundered, putting on a fine act of outraged anger. “Major Oates was not out there, secretly, for the game of it! He was spying! Why? What did he want?”

“I have no idea. So you killed, eh? That… .”

“That was our right! He was trespassing! I will lodge a formal protest!”

“How will you explain the murder of Major Oates?” Rogers demanded. “That will cause trouble, Misygyn.”

“Trouble? We have his body! On our grounds! A spy! There are rules about that, Colonel, and you know it! I will lodge a very strong protest. And I will include you!”

“Me?” Rogers said.

“You think we are fools? Obviously your ridiculous visit was to create a diversion, to cover for Oates, to keep us busy while Oates sneaked onto our grounds and prepared to spy! Well, you have been caught! Oates has been killed, as he should have been, and we know your duplicity! I do not think America will want it known that they send CIA men to spy on foreign diplomats in their own houses!”

“Nor will your Government want it known what Oates was looking for—the evidence of your sabotage of Project Full Moon! If you protest, we will protest and bring your sabotage out into the glare of day, Misygyn!”

Misygyn blinked. “Our … sabotage? So, that is your idea, eh?”

“It is! And you have been warned,” Rogers snapped.

Misygyn did not answer for a moment. Then the heavy-set diplomat stood up. He motioned curtly toward the door out of his office.

“You will leave now, General. I order you from Soviet territory! You will be hearing from me concerning Major Oates when I have my instructions. Meanwhile, his body remains here! Is that clear?”

Rogers stood up angrily. “Very clear! Rest assured I will make my report, and you will be hearing from us!”

Without another word, General Rogers turned on his heel and stalked from the office. The door closed behind him. Misygyn stood there for a moment. Then the side door opened and Colonel Derian came in.

“I know why Oates was here now,” the tall Colonel said. “The woman has escaped.”

“Escaped?” Misygyn said. “From you?”

“From Vaslov. I shot him,” Derian said. “He was either a traitor or a fool. I cannot risk either.

The woman is gone, we have searched the grounds. She must have had help. Oates was probably not alone!”

“And Rogers diverted us!” Misygyn said. He looked at Derian. “What now, Colonel?”

“Now I will take charge myself. The information Vaslov got is most interesting. I think I will take a trip.”

“A trip? Where?” Misygyn asked.

Colonel Derian turned away. “That you do not need to know. You will act as my contact with Moscow. For the rest, I will handle it alone.”

Colonel Derian left Misygyn alone and staring at the door. Out in the night The Shadow glided quickly away from the window and disappeared into the darkness.

Some minutes later Lamont Cranston suddenly appeared in the road outside the walls of the Soviet mansion. He walked quickly to the official car of Rogers. He lighted a cigarette and waited, his hooded eyes impassive. Down the road in the shadows the taxi waited with Margo and Shrevvie hidden inside. Cranston had been there only seconds when the iron gate opened and General Calvin Rogers stepped out. The General was now obviously shaken and furious.

“Cranston! They killed Oates!”

Cranston pretended shock. “Oates? I heard the shots, but I had no idea! They killed him?”

“I don’t know who killed him! But he is dead,” Rogers said angrily. “Where were you?”

“At the rear of the house. I saw nothing. I tried to get inside, but the only open window was in the office you were in. I left after the shots and tried to see what had happened, but I saw nothing. Except their guards. They almost caught me, so I came out.”

Rogers nodded. “The damned bad part is that there’s little we can do! Oates knew the risks.

He must have become careless, the fool! The Russkis are within their rights, damn them. Oates was trespassing.”

“How did Misygyn take your warning?” Cranston asked. Rogers laughed bitterly. “Oh, he denied it all, but he knows something. He knew all about Full Moon, and he knows more about the sabotage than he’ll admit. No, I have no doubts now that they are behind it all.”

“Will they stop now that they know we know?”

Rogers was thoughtful. “I’m not sure. I think so though. They won’t want it made public. And we’ll have to keep it quiet, even about Oates. I’ll report to the President, of course, but I don’t think even General Broyard should know. In a way we made a bargain—they stop and we keep quiet. The important thing is Project Full Moon. It must remain secret, and its whole fate depends on everything being kept quiet now.”

“Then you think the next shot will succeed?” Cranston said quietly.

“I hope so, Cranston. I think they’ve been warned. Now I must go and report. You can make your way back all right?”

“Of course. You go ahead,” Cranston said.

Rogers nodded and climbed into his car. Cranston stood in the shadows at the edge of the road and watched the big official car disappear. Then he turned and walked quickly to the taxi where Margo and Shrevvie waited. The small taxi driver and agent of The Shadow was excited.

“Boss, who was shot”’ Shrevvie asked.

“Major Oates, Shrevvie.” Cranston said. “Why?”

“I was on watch right after the shooting,” Shrevvie explained, “and I saw two guys come over the wall! They came real fast. They ran off into the woods over there, and I heard a car start up way back, probably on another road. I never heard it drive up, so they were probably inside all the time!”

“Russians?” Cranston snapped.

Shrevvie scratched his jaw. “Maybe, but they didn’t look like it to me. I mean, why would Russkis come running over the wall so fast to get away?”

Margo nodded. “Shrevvie has a point, Lamont.”

“Yes, he does,” Cranston said slowly.

“Besides,” Shrevvie said. “I think I recognized at least one of them. I mean, I recognized his description—he fits one of the men Harry Vincent saw in that staff car near the NASA Utah Base after the moon shot failed!”

Cranston was silent. His eyes flashed once with the fire of The Shadow. Then he climbed into the taxi beside Margo. He spoke sharply.

“There is something wrong in all this, Shrevvie. I think it is time for The Shadow to investigate that office and secret closet in the laboratory of Federal Cybernetics!”

Shrevvie nodded. The taxi drove off quickly in the night and turned back toward the west and the distant plant of Federal Cybernetics.

To Be Continued on Tuesday, at...
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