The Mysterious Ambassador

Co
-published by Avon Books and King Features Syndicate

AVOn

PUBLISHERS OF BARD, CAMELOT, DISCUS, EQUINOX AND FLARE BOOKS

PROLOGUE

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

Over four hundred years ago, a large British merchant ship was attacked by Singg pirates off the remote shores of Bangalki. The captain of the trading vessel was a famous seafarer who, in his youth, had served as cabin boy to Christopher Columbus on his first voyage to discover the New World. With the captain was his son, Kit, a strong young man who idolized his father and hoped to follow him as a seafarer. But the pirate attack was disastrous. In a furious battle, the entire crew of the merchant ship was killed and the ship sank in flames. The sole survivor was young Kit who, as he fell off the burning ship, saw his father killed by a pirate. Kit was washed ashore, half-dead. Friendly pygmies found him and nursed him to health.

One day, walking on the beach, he found a dead pirate dressed in his father's clothes. He realized this was the pirate who had killed his father. Grief-stricken, he waited until vultures had stripped the body clean. Then on the skull of his father's murderer, he swore an oath by firelight as the friendly pygmies watched. "I swear to devote my life to the destruction of piracy, greed, cruelty and injustice, and my sons and their sons shall follow me."

This way the Oath of the Skull that Kit and his descendants would live by. In time, the pygmies led him to their home in
Deep Woods,
in the center of the jungle, where he found a large cave with many rocky chambers. The mouth of the cave, a natural formation formed by the water and wind of centuries, was curiously like a skull. This became his home, the Skull

Cave. He soon adopted a mask and a strange costume. He found that the mystery and fear this inspired helped him in his endless battle against world-wide piracy. For he and his sons who followed became known as the nemesis of pirates everywhere, a mysterious man whose face no one ever saw, whose name no one knew, who worked alone.

As the years passed, he fought injustice wherever he found it. The first Phantom and the sons who followed found their wives in many places. One married a reigning queen, one a princess, one a beautiful red-haired barmaid. But whether queen or commoner, all followed their men back to the
Deep Woods,
to live the strange but happy life of the wife of the Phantom. And of all the world, only she, wife of the Phantom, and their children could see his face.

Generation after generation was born, grew to manhood, assumed the tasks of the father before him. Each wore the mask and costume. Folk of the jungle and the city and sea began to whisper that there was a man who could not die, a Phantom, a Ghost Who Walks. For they thought the Phantom was always the same man. A boy who saw the Phantom would see him again fifty years after; and he seemed the same. And he would tell his son and his grandson, and
his
son and grandson would see the Phantom fifty years after
that.
And he would seem the same. So the legend grew. The Man Who Cannot Die. The Ghost Who Walks. The Phantom.

The Phantom did not discourage this belief in his immortality. Always working alone against tremendous—sometimes almost impossible—odds, he found the awe and fear that the legend inspired was a great help in his endless battle against evil. Only his friends, the pygmies, knew the truth. To compensate for their tiny stature, the pygmies mixed deadly poisons for use on their weapons, in hunting or defending themselves. It was rare that they were forced to defend themselves. Their deadly poisons were known through the jungle, and they and their home, the
Deep Woods,
were dreaded and avoided. Another reason to stay away from the
Deep Woods:
it soon became known that this was a home of the Phantom, and none wished to trespass.

Through the ages, the Phantoms created several more homes or hideouts in various parts of the world. Near the
Deep Woods
was the Isle of Eden, where the Phantom taught all animals to live in. peace. In the southwest desert of the New World, the Phantoms created an eyrie on a high sheer mesa that was thought by the Indians to be haunted by evil spirits and became known as "Walker's Table"—for the Ghost Who Walks. In Europe, deep in the crumbling cellars of the ruins of an ancient castle, the Phantom had another hideout from which to strike against evildoers.

But the Skull Cave in the quiet of the
Deep Woods
remained the true home of the Phantom. Here, in a rocky chamber, he kept his chronicles, written records of all his adventures. Phantom after Phantom faithfully recorded their experiences in the large folio volumes. Another chamber contained the costumes of all the generations of Phantoms. Other chambers contained the vast treasures of the Phantom acquired over centuries, used only in the endless battle against evil.

Thus twenty generations of Phantoms lived, fought, and died, usually violently, as they followed their oath. Jungle folk, sea folk, and city folk believed him the same man, the Man Who Cannot Die. Only the pygmies knew that always, a day would come when their great friend would lie dying. Then, alone, a strong young son would carry his father to the burial crypt of his ancestors where all Phantoms rested. As the pygmies waited outside, the young man would emerge from the cave, wearing the mask, the costume, and the skull ring of the Phantom: his carefree happy days as the Phantom's son were over. And the pygmies would chant their age-old chant, "The Phantom is dead. Long live the Phantom."

This story of
The Mysterious Ambassador
is an adventure of the Phantom of our time—the twenty-first generation of his line. He has inherited the traditions and responsibilities created by four centuries of Phantom ancestors. One ancestor created the Jungle Patrol. Thus, today, our Phantom is the mysterious and unknown commander of this elite corps. In the jungle, he is known and loved as the Keeper of the Peace. On his right hand is the Skull Ring that leaves his mark—the Sign of the Skull—known and feared by evildoers everywhere. On his left hand—closer to the heart—is his "good mark" ring. Once given, the mark grants the lucky bearer protection by the Phantom, and it is equally known and respected. And to good people and criminals alike, in the jungle, on the seven seas, and in the cities of the world, he is The Phantom, the Ghost Who Walks, the Man Who Cannot die.

Lee Falk

New York
1973

!

They went to bed happy that night, filled with satisfaction at what they had accomplished, and thrilled with the anticipation of what was ahead. As they blew out their kerosene lamps and tried to sleep under mosquito netting, none of them knew that a circle of death surrounded them scarcely a day's march away.

It had been an exciting week in many ways, the culmination of four long months of dangerous dirty work in the center of this hot Bangalla jungle. They were a United Nations medical team, four male doctors and one female paramedic aid, sent to battle fever of unknown cause that was killing and crippling hundreds of jungle people from the interior tribes.

The team, headed by the eminent Dr. Alec Kirk, had found more to fight than fever. There was the heat, day and night, persistent, draining, maddening. There were the insects, poisonous or merely painful, equally persistent and maddening. Then there were shortages of supplies and food, and the enmity of jungle people suspicious of strangers. Worst of all were the tribal witchmen who, seeing their power challenged, fed the hostility and tried to turn their people against the foreign "devils" who would poison them with their needles and unknown drugs.

The team persisted, but their task would have been hopeless without the presence on their staff of a brilliant black doctor, a native of Bangalla, Lamanda Luaga. Educated abroad, Dr. Luaga had returned to his native land to bring modern medicine to his people, and he was widely known and loved in the city as well as in the jungle.

Then came that glorious morning, a week ago, when Dr. Kirk announced to the team at breakfast that their work was finished, their mission accomplished. The cots in the makeshift hospital were empty, no new cases had developed for days, and the epidemic was ended. They cheered and exchanged handshakes, backslappings with each other, and none failed to kiss their radiant female paramedic aid, Diana Palmer, who had worked so faithfully at their side through the desperate months. Then champagne, a lone bottle that had somehow survived the months, was popped open and poured foaming, into wooden cups for a round of toasts. None minded it was warm, there being no ice for five hundred miles in any direction. And the Wam- besi people—warriors, women, and children in whose village the UN clinic had been set up—watched the antics of these foreign medicine men with happy smiles. Their suspicion and hostility had long since vanished together with the frightening fever that had brought the strangers.

Then Diana Palmer, this amazing girl with the tender hands of a ministering angel, and the face and body of a young goddess, sent the happy message via their short-wave radio transmitter to home base:
epidemic ended—mission accomplished—please advise. Dr. Alec Kirk.
Their radio operator had been stricken with the fever a month earlier and she had replaced him as she was the only staff member with a working knowledge of electronics. There seemed to be no end to the girl's talents.

All knew that she had been born to wealth, that she was an Olympic gold medal diver, a pilot, and an explorer. She had taken a crash course in paramedics and had come on this mission as a volunteer when no nurses in the UN pool were available.

The two young doctors, red-haired Chris Able and balding George Schwartz, as well as their chief, Alec Kirk, had fallen in love with this sparkling beauty, and each had made a secret resolve to make her his bride. In the beginning, all had been dubious about her value to the team, but she soon changed that. She worked hard, bandaging ugly wounds and emptying slop pails with equal energy, asking no favors, somehow maintaining her good humor and easy charm through the most trying times. The men also learned, quickly and firmly, that she was not a potential bride for any of them. It seems she was already spoken for. There was a man somewhere. And through all the steaming days and hot nights, they wondered who the man could be who was worthy of this glowing girl. Why wasn't she with him instead of slaving in this hell-hole of a clinic? Why had she given up her exciting life of jet-setting— the parties, the skiing, the theater and opera, and the rest—for this? They couldn't guess, and Diana didn't tell them.

Actually, she had wanted to be a part of the UN health team and had studied for it. She had volunteered for this particular mission for her own reasons, which they would all soon know.

That glorious day, Diana's radio message received a reply:
Dr. Alec Kirk and UN medical team ... the UN and the entire world are proud of you ... my personal congratulations . . . the Secretary General, United Nations.
That was good for another cheer, a round of handshakes, more backslapping, and heartfelt kisses for Diana, and more toasting, this time with fruit juice, for the champagne was gone.