The Scorpia Menace (21 page)

"You've already asked, Captain," he said. "And I'd really like to tell you." He smiled again. "Curiosity makes the world go 'round."

With that the Captain had to be content. An hour and a half later, he alerted The Phantom.

"You'd better be getting ready," he said. "Would you mind sending the co-pilot forward."

"A pleasure," the big man assured him.

When the co-pilot joined the Captain, only half-awake, they gaped at their passenger. He was wearing his jungle clothes and with the parchutes strapped on, he looked even more impressive.

The co-pilot was wide-awake now.

"Excuse me, sir, but would you mind telling me why you're dressed like that?" he said, indicating The Phantom's striped shorts and the jerkin which joined a hood, hiding most of the big man's face.

"Your colleague just asked me that," The Phantom replied. "My answer is the same. It's top secret."

The pilot interrupted.

"There's the island dead ahead," he said.

The Phantom felt an increase in his pulse as he made out the dark form of an island rearing from the moonlight- splashed water. He discerned the sharp, turreted mass of what looked like a medieval castle.

"Can you drop me somewhere near that fortress but not within sight?" he asked.

"Can do," the pilot nodded. "I don't want to drop you in the jungle. I think I see an open space beyond."

"Fine," the big man grunted. He was already working his way aft to where the co-pilot had the cargo hatch open. Icy air whipped at him as he waited to jump. He waved as the pilot shouted, "Good luck, sir!"

He knew the Captain was watching him in the cabin surveillance mirror.

"Good luck, sir," the co-pilot repeated, patting his back. "I'd still like to know why you're dressed like that."

The Phantom grinned.

"Tell you later," he said.

He nodded as the pilot turned on the jump light and the co-pilot tapped him on the shoulder.

He fell wide of the aircraft as it banked steeply to starboard. He fell free for 40 seconds then pulled the ripcord. There was a tremendous jerk on his legs as the chute opened. Then he rocked gently through the air, the great canopy of dacron above him shimmering faintly in the light of the moon. The ground came closer.

The big transport banked and circled dipping its wings in salute. Then it turned to the west and he was alone in the sky. The Phantom pulled in shrouds and sideslipped the chute. He landed perfectly in a small open clearing.

Baron Sojin was having a restless night. He turned feverishly in his sleep and unpleasant dreams kept tugging at the edges of his consciousness. The dreams included gigantic men who blew up pirate ships and ghosts who couldn't die. He groaned and the suddenly awakened. He switched on the bedside lamp, blinking in the sudden glare. His pajamas were drenched in perspiration. He looked at the clock. It was two a.m. Baron Sojin sat up in bed. Then he made up his mind.

He swung out of bed and donned his blue and white, striped bathrobe. He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He sponged his face in the basin, combed his hair and then felt better. He returned to the bedroom and pressed a bell on his bedside table. He lit a Russian cigarette as he waited for his valet. The man's sleep-sodden features appeared round the door about five minutes later.

"Wake Miss Palmer," said Sojin, peremptorily. "Ask her to meet me in my study at once."

The man blinked as though the light in the room were too strong for his eyes.

"Yes, Excellency," he mumbled.

He went along the corridor to the secondary suite while

the Baron made his way down the staircase. He was at his desk studying notes when Diana came down. She was wearing a pale blue negligee which enhanced her symmetrical figure and her magnificent black hair floated behind her as she came into the room.

"Baron Sojin," she said crisply. "It was bad enough to be kidnapped, but I don't relish being awakened in the middle of the night!"

"I'm sorry, Diana," said the Baron soothingly, indicating a chair. "This is urgent, and could not wait until morning."

Diana sat in the chair and watched the Baron intently. She looked as fresh as though it were mid-day and not the middle of the night.

"I'm waiting," she said impatiently.

"I have a few questions to ask Diana," replied Sojin, going back to his desk. "Questions that cannot wait until morning."

"Very well, then," the girl retorted. "Ask them."

"You must tell me all you know about The Phantom," said Sojin.

For once his control had deserted him. He struck his clenched fist on the desk. The heavy walnut fixture shivered with the impact. Diana stared wide-eyed.

"I've nothing to say," she said through tight lips.

Baron Sojin stepped toward her, his eyes blazing. Instinctively, Diana shrank back, thinking that he was going to strike her. The sudden ringing of the telephone stopped him in his tracks.

Sojin's face changed. The film cleared from his eyes. He smiled his sinister smile.

"Forgive me, my dear," he murmured.

He picked up the phone.

"This is the radio room, sir," came Colonel Crang's voice. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but something important has happened."

"That's quite all right, Colonel," said Sojin, smoothly.

He was master of himself now and he glanced at Diana reassuringly.

"I'm always at Scorpia's disposal."

Diana walked over toward the table and watched the Baron's face closely as the conversation continued.

"I just received a transmission from Westchester," said the Colonel.

"Something seems to be seriously wrong there."

"What do you mean, Colonel?" Sojin snapped. His knuckles tightened on the receiver.

"The agent acted with admirable initiative," Crang went on. "He was about to report in to Otto Koch when he saw a police car stop in front of the farmhouse he is using as headquarters. He hid and watched. He witnessed the arrest of our entire staff, including Koch. He immediately used his emergency transmitter and called us. Can you hear me, sir?"

"I hear you, Colonel," said Sojin. His face was grimly set.

"That means that the last messages from Westchester were not genuine, Baron," Crang went on urgently. "The police are monitoring all our calls—probably using Cringle under duress—while at the same time, sending us false messages reporting everything normal."

"The significance of this had not entirely escaped me, Colonel," replied Sojin, keeping his brilliant blue eyes fixed on Diana. "We had a message from someone called The Phantom earlier. Tell our operators to find out everything they can about him and report any information, immediately."

He paused a moment.

"And Colonel Crang, I suppose we have checked the authenticity of this latest message?"

He listened intently.

"Very well, Colonel. That is good. Keep an international alert."

He concentrated intently for a minute or two. Diana could almost sense the impatience of Colonel Crang waiting in the radio room. Sojin finally made up his mind.

"Three orders, Colonel. No more radio contact with Westchester. We will accept no messages from them. Secondly, double the guard on the island, day and night. Anything that moves is to be shot! And thirdly, Colonel Crang, join me here in my quarters as soon as you have carried out my orders."

"Very good, sir."

There was a click as Crang put down the phone. Baron Sojin turned back to Diana.

"And, now, my dear, it is time you and I had a serious chat about your friend, The Phantom."

23

STRANGE CALLING CARD

The Phantom slipped cautiously out of his parachute harness and dropped gently to the ground. The harness remained swaying in the darkness, suspended from a branch, ten feet up. The big man could not dislodge it, but he felt certain no one would discover it before morning. And by morning, he hoped to have accomplished his mission. He slipped between the trees like a shadow, making for the dark bulk of the castle, silver-etched in the moonlight, about a quarter of a mile away.

He moved silently and stealthily, with all the accumulated jungle instincts of his ancesters. Only a few sleepy animals saw him pass and then they again settled down for the night. Presently, The Phantom came to the edge of a steep escarpment. Far below, the ocean dashed whitely against its base. He emerged from the edge of the jungle and walked over jagged, rocky outcrops. It was a brilliant night and he could see a long way ahead.

Nothing moved in the wilderness of stone, but he kept in the shadows and with infinite caution made his way up the cliff-face until he was within ten feet of the top. Here he paused to get his bearings. All he could see of the castle now was its top-most turrets. Tiny squares of yellow light showed from this quarter. So someone was awake. Perhaps the higher echelons of Scorpia, worried at the message he had sent them? The Phantom grinned to himself in the darkness. Well, they would soon have something more tangible to worry them.

He moved on, scaling the last few feet, until he put his strong, steel-like fingers over the edge of the plateau. Inch by inch the big man lifted himself until his eyes were at

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ground level. He found he could see several hundred yards. The place was worn smooth and level with the passage of thousands of pairs of boots over the years. From the stone blocks, the saluting base and other military detail, The Phantom deduced that it was nothing less than a gigantic parade ground. And there, not ten yards away from him, was a big man in a military uniform, armed with a sub-machine gun. The Phantom smiled grimly as he ducked down out of sight.

The sentry continued his pacing. He walked along the edge of the plateau until he was no more than a yard from where The Phantom crouched. The bright flare of a match came from above as the man lit a cigarette. The Phantom moved behind, him. The soldier was just talking the cigarette from his mouth when his ankles were seized in a grip like steel. Before he could react, he was lifted completely from the ground. He screamed once, and then his head was dashed against the surface of the parade ground with stunning force. He rolled over limply as the slap of heavy boots sounded from farther up.

A second sentry ran into sight, his feet echoing from the cliff-side. He brought his sub-machine gun up with a gasp as he saw the sprawled figure of his companion.

"What's the matter?" he called nervously. "Did you fall?"

The other man made no reply. The second sentry came up to him and rolled him over cautiously. Then, he recoiled, looking carefully about him. Stamped into the side of the man's jaw was the mark of a skull which seemed to have been imprinted into the flesh. The sentry's jaw sagged.

"The mark of a skulll" he gasped. "What does that mean?"

"Just this!" said a powerful, resonant voice from behind him. As the sentry jumped back, a mighty force plucked the sub-machine gun from his hands. He was whirled like a toy doll by a force he was unable to comprehend. He saw a square, strong face with a black mask over the eyes before he was dashed to the ground like his companion, and consciousness left him.

The Phantom bent swiftly over the second sentry.

"This is more like it," he told himself. "The Phantom strikes like a thunderbolt but moves softer than a stalking tiger"—old jungle saying!

As he moved away into the shadows, hard up against the Castle wall, there came the sound of more running footsteps. Torches flickered as a squad of soldiers poured from the open gates of the keep, fanning out across the parade ground. The Phantom continued to move along the wall, then slipped within the Castle walls. Only an animal with its senses hyper-turned to the ways of the wild could have detected him, so swiftly did he move. In the deeper shadow of the inner courtyard, The Phantom hugged the wall and glided silently along.