Into the Past With Strangers

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

15

 

 

Doc Shadow banked the plane away from the combat. The Ghost Angel seemed to be handling his own. The man of adventure wanted to pick up the other piece of rock and leave before the enemy got themselves back together.

 

"Is that a dragon?" Tim peered over his shoulder. "I can't believe it."

 

"Neither can I." The Comic leaned forward. "I hope that wasn't the plane Pattern Ghost was on."

 

"Ghost Angel either forgot, or didn't care." Doc Shadow spotted a clearing in the distance. "We'll have to land and find the other piece."

 

"We'll be pinned down on the ground if those rats break free from Ghost Angel." The Comic stared at the pyrotechnics behind them. "They're really going at it."

 

"The other option is to place you on the ground, then take off again." Doc Shadow brought the plane around. "You'll be on your own until I can pick you back up."

 

"That seems a lot better than walking out of this mess." The Comic checked his equipment. "Let's do it."

 

"I'll go with you." Tim gulped behind his sunglasses and hat. "I can call G.A. to help us if we need him."

 

"I don't think so, kid." The Comic turned his grinning mask on the boy. "I don't want you to get hurt."

 

"It's too late for that." Tim straightened his jacket and tie. "Let's go."

 

"Wait until we land." Doc Shadow pointed the plane down. "It'll be a rolling stop so you will have to be fast."

 

"I'm always fast, Doc." The Comic let his hand drop to the restraint release. As soon as the plane touched the ground, he planned to be out the door.

 

The plane dropped smooth as cream, dipped enough to let the wheels barely touch the ground. The door swung open as it rolled along toward the other end of the clearing. A yellow and purple figure dropped from the fuselage with a burden over his shoulder. The plane lifted up and started climbing for the sky. It just missed the trees at the other end of the makeshift runway as it headed back to the battle in the sky.

 

"Let's go, kid." The Comic dusted his costume off and started for the trees. "We're burning daylight."

 

"I can't believe we just jumped from a plane." Tim dusted his own jacket off as he followed his brightly colored comrade.

 

"I can't either, especially if something happens to it, we'll have to walk home." The Comic vanished into the trees.

 

"What do you mean we?" Tim smiled for the first time. "I have a ride."

 

The Comic set off on a line to where the plane had been circling from the air. He kept his eyes open for anyone else who might be down on the ground with him. He didn't want to run into a cartoon while trying to find a piece of rock that could be anywhere in the jungle around him.

 

He expected more trouble. That came with the job.

 

"Where do you think it is?" Tim moved less quietly behind the crimebuster. He snagged his jacket on the foliage as he went.

 

"Quiet." The Comic put a hand up. "We don't want to be shot at while we're looking around."

 

"I got it." Tim looked around. "Do you think anybody else is down here with us?"

 

"Do you really want to find out?" The Comic started off again.

 

The Comic led the way, moving from tree to tree like a bright shadow. He spotted movement in the distance. Someone tried to keep behind trees ahead.

 

He gestured for Tim to wait as he circled around the position where he had spotted the skulker. He wanted to get ahead of him. That way he could use surprise on his side.

 

The Comic crept around until he was in front of the shadow. He waited patiently in some bushes. He watched the woman walk toward his position. She seemed to be looking around for trouble. He waited as she came within arm's reach without seeing him.

 

"How's it going?" The Comic stepped into view. "What's a dame like you doing in a place like this?"

 

The woman jumped back, swinging a fist for his mask's smile. He ducked, letting the blow swing over his head.

 

"That's really no answer." The Comic caught the next blow. He turned that into a shoulder carry. Fists beat on his back. "Do you mind? I'm trying to be heroic here."

 

"Who are you?" The woman stopped beating on him. "Why are you chasing me through the jungle?"

 

"I'm the Comic." The masked vigilante retraced his footsteps. "I'm here to rescue you."

 

"Let's say I believe you." The woman struggled off his shoulder. "How did you find out I was in trouble?"

 

"We're following the Germans." The Comic led the way. "Come on. I left someone over here to wait for us."

 

"Who's the dame?" Tim called from his hiding place.

 

"I'm Dr. Walkur, young man." The dame brought herself up straight. "I didn't expect a child."

 

"Neither did I." The Comic shrugged. "You get what you pay for."

 

"I don't work for you." Tim glared at the yellow and purple goon.

 

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." The Comic led the way back toward the clearing. "Let's see if the Doc can pick us up as easily as he dropped us off."

 

"The Doc?" Dr. Walkur frowned at her new comrades.

 

"Doc Shadow is flying for us." Tim pointed at one of the planes.

 

"Doc Shadow? Not the Doc Shadow." Dr. Walkur looked impressed for the first time since she met the two of them. "I have read all his articles on lost civilizations and digs he undertook."

 

"We're more concerned with his flying ability." The Comic reached the edge of the clearing where the plane landed.

 

"Where's G.A?" Tim looked up in the sky.

 

"He's up there still fighting the two on the dragon." The Comic pointed at the spiraling combat. "We need to get out of here before something happens."

 

"I think it's too late." Dr. Walkur pointed at the plane not marked as Doc Shadow's plane. It swung around toward the clearing like it was landing.

 

"No way will they make it." Tim backed away from the open ground.

 

"Let's not take that chance." The Comic backed up himself, pulling Dr. Walkur with him. "We don't want to get shot by lucky gamblers."

 

"I second that motion." Dr. Walkur started jogging to ground cover. She really wanted a gun.

 

"Tim, you and the doc head that way." The Comic looked around for a place to hide. "I'll hold them off."

 

Tim grabbed Dr. Walkur's hand and headed into the trees with her. He kept glancing at where they expected the plane to land. He hoped the pilot wasn't as skilled as Doc Shadow.

 

The second plane descended toward the clearing. The three comrades in arms had their eyes on the steel bird. That was how the living drawing snuck up on them.

 

The moving lines grabbed Dr. Walkur's bag in angular claws. It ripped the sack off her shoulder and headed into the air. It ignored the shouts behind it.

 

It had what was the most important thing in its grip.

 

"That can't be good." Dr. Walkur made sure the bag was the only thing hurt. "What do we do now?"

 

"We wait for pick up and hope Shadow can do something." The Comic looked around. "And we keep our eyes open for anything else like that."

 

"Do you think it'll come back?" Tim picked up a stick to use as a club.

 

"Yes." The Comic held his hammer in his hand. "We just have to be ready to move when it does."

 

He didn't tell them about the piece of rock he still carried in his equipment bag. That prevented anyone from overhearing their talking about it.

 

The bird joined the fight in the air, dropping the piece of the map in the Fancy Dan's hands while the dragon tried to keep Ghost Angel at bay. They redoubled their efforts to drive Ghost Angel off. They couldn't have him wreck their other transport.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

16

 

Pattern Ghost stood up. The static from his suit surrounded him. The soldiers that shared the plane with him clustered around the windows to watch what was going on outside.

 

He didn't care about that. He cared about getting off the plane before something bad happened to it. He couldn't expect for the others to rescue him. He had to get free on his own.

 

Pattern Ghost pulled his electric pistol. He needed to force the plane down to a landing. Then he could get away from it. That seemed to be the best option. Anything else seemed to end with a fiery crash in his mind.

 

Pattern Ghost made his way to the cockpit. He avoided any stray limbs out in the aisle as he paused at the door. They couldn't see him. They could see the door open and closing on its own.

 

He would have to chance it.

 

Pattern Ghost pushed the door open and stepped inside the cockpit. The copilot glanced back at him. The invisible avenger wiped the frown off his face with the butt of his pistol. The copilot rocked back in his chair, stunned by the blow.

 

"Land, please." The pilot stared at his partner, then around the compartment. The voice had come out of nowhere.

 

Pattern Ghost didn't like the way the pilot froze at the controls. He seemed incapable of moving from fear. The vigilante brought his pistol down and pulled the man out of the way. He needed to crash the plane and hope to survive.

 

That didn't seem too smart.

 

Pattern Ghost pushed the wheel forward. The nose dropped down. Trees filled the view ahead. The invisible man ran from the cockpit. He needed to get to the hatch if he wanted to be able to get out of the plane after it hit.

 

He knocked a man aside and strapped in the seat beside the hatch. The plane hit and bounced before it started to break up. He needed to be able to leap clear as soon as possible. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

 

The plane paused in its bouncing. The passengers had not been strapped in when it struck the trees and lost its wings. Pattern Ghost leaped from his chair, and threw open the exit. He didn't know how long he had before the aircraft decided to blow up.

 

Pattern Ghost leaped from the plane, climbing down the nearest tree. He noted that most of the animals in sight fled with hoots and screams. He dropped down to the ground. No one followed him yet.

 

He hoped that would remain the same for a while. He didn't want to take on a group of people with enough firepower to shred the jungle. He couldn't dodge bullets.

 

Pattern Ghost decided that he needed to signal to the others he was still alive. He pointed his pistol in the air and fired. The beam lit the sky like reverse lightning. That should pinpoint him to Doc Shadow.

 

Pattern Ghost headed away from the crash site. He didn't want to be caught by survivors. They would be irate that he blew their ride home.

 

He decided to work around the clearing he stumbled on. Maybe he could find the others lurking on the ground. Hopefully Doc Shadow would land to pick them up.

 

Pattern Ghost looked up at the sky. He looked away. Ghost Angel and his two enemies were throwing energy around that ate at his eyes. He had to avoid looking at the battle if he wanted to keep moving.

 

Ghost Angel seemed to be holding his own against the two fiends. That was good. He doubted his own invisibility would be much of a defense against whatever they were using.

 

Pattern Ghost spotted the yellow and purple regalia of the Comic. That's where he needed to be. He jogged over to join them.

 

"What happened to that plane?" Tim looked at the wreck.

 

"I did." Pattern Ghost smiled at their jumping. He always liked that. "I don't know if the soldiers on board will like it, so let's get moving."

 

"This is the only area for miles around that Doc can land in." The Comic homed in on the buzzing voice Pattern Ghost emitted when powered up. "Plus they have the doc's piece of the rock. We have to get it back."

 

"How do we do that?" Pattern Ghost kept an eye on the site of the wrecked plane. "Let's get back in the air and see if we can help Ghost Angel."

 

"I'm for that." Tim jumped up and down. "We're missing all the action."

 

"So we signal Doc and get out of here." Pattern Ghost nodded before stopping himself. They couldn't see the motion of his head.

 

Doc's plane dropped out of the sky. It rolled to a stop and turned around. The small group headed on the grassy runway. They looked out for anyone who might try and stop them before they could get airborne from the extraction site.

 

The Comic helped the woman they had picked up into the fuselage. He threw Tim up like a sack of potatoes. He jumped up and pulled himself in easily.

 

Pattern Ghost envied that amount of agility.

 

He struggled through the hatch, getting to his feet while the rest headed for the front of the plane. Invisible hands slammed the hatch shut as the plane started rolling across the plain.

 

Pattern Ghost settled into a seat and strapped in. He listened. All he heard was the sound of engines. That was good.

 

Pattern Ghost listened to the others talking. He hadn't expected to walk away from the crash. Adrenaline made his body shake. He waited for it to pass.

 

"We need to get the stones from Ghost Angel's opponents." Doc Shadow sounded confident in their ability to do that. "I think I have a plan."

 

"If it involves the doc doing the dance of the seven veils, I'm for it." The Comic then made a sound that indicated someone had kicked him. "I'm good otherwise also."

 

"What's the dance of the seven veils?" Tim's voice carried a trace of irritation. Ghost Angel was his mentor. Helping the spirit of vengeance had to be uppermost in his mind.

 

"I think you're a little too young for that." The woman sounded irritated herself. "I'm Dr. Haven Walkur. It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Shadow. Your reputation is impeccable."

 

"Thank you." Doc didn't give any indication that he had heard of any Dr. Walkur. "We still need to recover as many of the rocks as we can."

 

"We'll have to take them away from fancy boy, and his minion." The Comic sighed. "You got a plan?"

 

"A bare bones one." Doc Shadow didn't sound as if his plan was bare bones to Pattern Ghost. "We have to draw their fire long enough for one of us to grab the stones while the others try to cover that one. I would like Ghost Angel for this but I'm not sure how he will react when we attack. We certainly can't tell him."

 

"He's smart. He'll figure it out once we get started." Tim clapped his hands. "He's quick on his feet like that."

 

"All right." Doc Shadow urged the plane around. "Pattern Ghost, we'll need you to get their attention."

 

"Naturally." Pattern Ghost unstrapped and moved to the cockpit. He caught the tail end of Doc gesturing the Comic to get out of the way.

 

"We're going to start our attack run." Doc lined up so Pattern Ghost can shoot out of his window. "Get ready in the back, Comic. We'll use your gas bombs on the second run."

 

The yellow and purple clown rushed to the exit, throwing the hatch open for quick access. His red gas ball leaped into his hand as he waited for his chance.

 

"Strap in." Doc Shadow's handling of the plane was as smooth as ever. "This could get a bit bumpy."

 

Pattern Ghost took careful aim with his electric pistol, extending his arm out of the window. He didn't know what the thing would do to Ghost Angel. He also couldn't afford to miss. His two opponents could wreck the plane with a glance. He pulled the trigger.

 

Lightning shot out in a pulsing streak. The beam struck the bird in the face. It popped like a bubble at the mercy of a happy kid.

 

"Missed." Pattern Ghost pulled the trigger again in the hope of hitting at least one of the two principles.

 

Lightning sliced the sky again. It reached for the butler. It missed on a curve and blasted the dragon instead. The drawing burned away in an instant.

 

"That's not good." Dr. Walkur frowned at the invisible man.

 

The plane passed before Pattern Ghost could get another shot.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

17

 

Mad George Tribolyte needed to take immediate action. He rarely felt at a loss, but this was one of those times. After all, he couldn't fly like many of his rivals in the mystic underground.

 

And he had lost his footing when Mr. Cook's dragon had burst from under them.

 

Tribolyte clutched the bag of map fragments close as he leveled his finger. He had to trust his servant to solve the problem. He needed to keep that spirit away from them long enough for that to happen.

 

He poured energy into the air, pointing it at the thing in black. It struck the glowing hell sword and sliced apart. He surmised the beam transferred the beam into the afterlife somewhere. He didn't care enough to personally examine the arrival site over there.

 

Tribolyte's feet touched something solid. He bent his knees at the impact. He kept himself from falling and rolling. That might be disastrous. He paused to look around so he had a clear view of what he should avoid wrecking.

 

Mr. Cook had produced a balloon tied to a basket. Lines forged themselves from his palm as he worked in more details. The airship climbed as more round shapes drifted upward with anchor ropes attached to the basket.

 

"Good work, Mr. Cook." Tribolyte smiled. "All we need is the last piece. I have a feeling it's not far away."

 

"A little help here." The Baron clutched the side of the basket. He had snagged the construct after their freefall. Tribolyte helped him aboard as he watched the winged suit descend toward them.

 

"The plane is coming back around." Mr. Cook didn't sound excited. He almost never did. "I don't see what they used on my drawings."

 

"Blow up the plane while I keep this other thing busy." Tribolyte made sure none of his blasts would hit the balloon by accident. "We have to even the odds some."

 

"Yes, sir." Mr. Cook drew a rocket and launched it with a toss of his hand. Flame erupted from its tail as it chased after the flying boat.

 

Tribolyte fired blast after blast at the descending Ghost Angel. Each one vanished as the man in black swept his sword through it. At least he couldn't lift his sunglasses while he was busy protecting himself.

 

He needed something to get this spook out of the way until they could make their escape.

 

A loud explosion rocked the balloon. Everyone glanced at the source. Mr. Cook's rocket had caught up with the plane. Part of a wing was gone. No matter how skilled the pilot was, he couldn't keep from crashing after something like that.

 

"Good job again, Mr. Cook." Tribolyte fired at Ghost Angel as he changed direction to catch up with the spinning plane. The beams missed.

 

Tribolyte took out the tray of map pieces. He fitted the one taken by the bird cartoon into place. He was missing one shaped like a fish. He activated them.

 

Light formed a picture of the world. The missing piece was on the bottom of the globe floating in the air. That was where the treasure had to be.

 

He needed the last piece to pinpoint exactly where it was buried. At least he knew it was somewhere in Antarctica.

 

A buzzing sound drew his attention to the falling plane.

 

"Of course." Tribolyte shook his head. "The last piece would be in the plane."

 

"We'll wait until they crash and take it from them." The Baron checked the action on his pistol. "The both of you will have to deal with that thing masquerading as a man."

 

"That sounds like a plan." Tribolyte put the fragments away. "Take us down, Mr. Cook."

 

"Yes, sir." Mr. Cook cut one of the balloons loose. The construction descended slowly after the spiraling plane.

 

The three of them watched the plane heading for the jungle. Ghost Angel used his sword on the thing and vanished inside. Something yellow and purple fell from the spiraling fuselage, disappearing into the leaves.

 

"Let's check that out." The Baron pointed at where the colorful wreckage had vanished into trees. "We can catch up with the rest at the crash site."

 

"You heard the good Baron, Mr. Cook." Mad George smiled. "Let's see what hit the ground."

 

Mr. Cook cut several more balloons loose to let the drawing descend faster. He aimed for a tree marked by a leaf pattern that he had picked out where the target had fallen. It appealed to his design sense and that made it easier to remember where the thing had fallen.

 

The balloon touched the ground. Tribolyte looked around with his third eye open. He saw the downed yellow and purple laying in a heap. He snapped back to reality.

 

"It looks like one of their party fell to his death." Tribolyte pointed at the fallen vigilante. "We should make sure before we try to deal with the rest of them."

 

"Good idea." The Baron hopped over the edge of the basket. He jogged over to where Tribolyte indicated. He bent down to check the body. The Comic still breathed. He stood and fired into the man's back before he searched the body. He found the last stone piece. He took it and walked back to the balloon.

 

"Let's go." The Baron held up the fragment. "We have what we want."

 

"Very good, Baron." Tribolyte took the piece and fitted it in with the rest as the Baron climbed back aboard. The globe appeared at his command. "It looks like we are going south. You might need to get cold weather gear ready for us."

 

"I'll make a call." The Baron put his pistol away. "We'll have men to meet us in Argentina."

 

"What about the men we had with us?" Tribolyte didn't really care about them. Cannon fodder was cannon fodder.

 

"They'll rally to a village south of here if they survived their falls." The Baron shrugged. "Then they will call for help which will be sent for them."

 

"Sounds reasonable." Tribolyte nodded. "We need more speed and altitude, Mr. Cook."

 

Mr. Cook drew more balloons and hooked them to the basket. The crowd of drawings pulled the trio into the air like a rocket. He added propellers to get them moving in the right direction.

 

"It looks like things are finally going our way, Herr Baron." Tribolyte settled into the bottom of the basket, map stored at his side where he sat in a corner.

 

"Hopefully the prize at the end will be worth what we have done." The Baron looked out at the horizon.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

18

 

Tim Daschle clutched his seat. He closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. Something like this always ended in a fiery crash. He had never thought he would be the guest of honor at a barbecue.

 

"I'm going to try and sit us down." Doc Shadow sounded strained but calm as he tried to hold the plane steady with one of its wings missing. "Get ready to get out as soon as we stop moving."

 

"What if we blow up?" Tim knew he shouldn't have asked that.

 

"Then we'll be beyond worrying." Pattern Ghost didn't sound steady from the front seat.

 

The plane's roof fell away. Ghost Angel peered down at the group. He waved his sword away as he dropped down into the cabin. The deck floor didn't buck him off.

 

"Get us out of here, G.A.!" Tim tried to keep the panic from his voice. The others were handling things just fine. He was a hero too. He could be calm under pressure.

 

"I couldn't save you all." Ghost Angel folded his wings into his black jacket. "I'm going to try to give you some lift. Get ready, Shadow."

 

Ghost Angel raised his hands. Flames appeared at his feet, rushing upwards into the sky. Faces appeared in the flames. They glared around them before vanishing.

 

The plane steadied it's descent. Shadow pulled back, splitting his shirt under his vest. The aircraft crashed into the trees and kept going. It broke apart but Shadow was already out of his seat. The deck shimmied but he moved like a cat. He pulled Dr. Walkur from her seat and headed for the back of the fuselage.

 

Pattern Ghost fired his pistol into the front of the plane as he unstrapped from his seat. He didn't want anything to crash into him while he was trying to run for his life. He took a second to wonder how the heck Doc Shadow was out of sight while he was still rolling from his seat.

 

Ghost Angel pulled Tim out of his seat, spreading his wings again. He took the time to pull the invisible avenger after them as he drifted backwards after the fleeing man of adventure. His calling was being a spirit of vengeance but he didn't see why he couldn't stretch that to help someone in his line of work so to speak.

 

"Had enough excitement for one day, Tim?" Ghost Angel drifted where Doc Shadow waited to leap from the plane.

 

"Heck no." Tim shouted back. His guardian wasn't going to hear him confess that he wanted to go home. "Give me some more."

 

Ghost Angel wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he did.

 

Doc Shadow leaped from the plane in front of Tim. The sidekick blinked his eyes and the hero was gone. Nothing seemed to faze him, not even jumping from a moving death trap.

 

Tim found himself looking out on the slow moving trees. Ghost Angel dropped him on one with a flap of his wings. He heard branches cracking as he scrambled to climb down to the ground. He didn't want to be stuck in a tree if some of those soldiers had made it to the ground after Ghost Angel had ran amuck.

 

Tim reached the ground. He looked around. He didn't see any of the others. Where had they gone?

 

"Looks like we're walking home." Pattern Ghost's voice sounded from above. "Have you seen the others?"

 

"No." Tim looked around, straightening his tie and suit. He had lost his hat in the excitement. He would have to get another when he got home.

 

"They're that way." Ghost Angel dropped out of the sky. He pointed back the way the plane had carved a path through the jungle.

 

"Why didn't the plane blow up?" Pattern Ghost sounded relieved to Tim.

 

"Shadow must have dumped the fuel." Ghost Angel started to fade away. "Go south if you want to catch up with the Germans."

 

"Let's go." Tim started in the indicated direction. "Doc Shadow isn't going to wait on us."

 

The two made their way through the underbrush, trying to be careful to keep to clear paths. Neither one had anything to cut through vines and thorn bushes. Pattern Ghost certainly wasn't going to burn his way through with his pistol.

 

They found Doc Shadow and Dr. Walkur bending over the body of the Comic. The man of adventure had one hand on the vigilante's neck.

 

"Is he dead?" Tim joined the two. No one was going to kill one of his friends.

 

Well, technically the Comic wasn't a friend.

 

"No." Doc Shadow slung the vigilante over his shoulder. "We have to go."

 

"G.A. said to go south if we want to catch up with the rats." Tim wondered how Dr. Walkur had gotten his hat. He held out his hand for it.

 

"As soon as we reach a phone, I'll see if we can get some help." Doc Shadow moved silently through the jungle, leading the rest. "We'll need a plane and cold weather gear if we want to go to Antarctica."

 

"How do you know they're going to Antarctica?" Pattern Ghost tried to conceal the struggle he was having with his heavy suit in the jungle heat.

 

"I saw their map." Doc paused after a few moments. He placed the Comic under a tree. "I'm going ahead. Wait here."

 

Tim missed how he merged with the trees and disappeared. It was similar to what he saw Ghost Angel do all the time. He didn't think he liked it in the living.

 

"What do you think he's doing?" Tim watched bugs dancing in the air.

 

"He's getting us another plane." Pattern Ghost rested under another tree. He seemed to be watching a lizard on a branch.

 

"Where would he get a plane?" Tim glared at the man.

 

"I was kidding." Pattern Ghost shrugged.

 

"He's cutting a trail for us." Dr. Walkur wiped her forehead with a napkin, and a juggling of her pith helmet. "I'm sure he's trying to find the easiest way he can so we don't lose time."

 

"What's the plan when we reach Antarctica?" Tim didn't want to admit that he had never left the country before this. He hoped that the folks back home weren't worrying too much.

 

"We find that fancy dan and we take back the map pieces and keep them from finding whatever they're looking for down there." Pattern Ghost turned enough to keep his face hidden so he could open his helmet and wipe his face before closing the visor again. "We can't let them have it. There's no telling what's there, or how dangerous it is."

 

"I think they killed the rest of my expedition." Dr. Walkur frowned as she stared after Doc Shadow. "I won't let them have whatever they want."

 

Doc Shadow emerged from the jungle. He had several plants in his hands.

 

"First, we take care of our own." Doc searched his vest with his hands. "Then we take care of our enemy."

[DusterBoy]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

This is better than Hollywood! Great work csyphrett!

[bubba smith]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

i concur

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

19

 

Codename: V considered plans as he stood on a dock in Southern Argentina. Intelligence had provided information about a German icebreaker arriving along the wharves. A set of binoculars allowed him to watch the loading.

 

He had to get on board if he wanted to continue the operation.

 

The agent thought he spotted an opening. Some of the sailors headed into the nearby city for leave. If one of them should happen to miss the departure, who would notice that someone with the same face had gone aboard and was performing their duties.

 

Codename: V put the glasses away and set off to intercept his choices of targets. He kept to the backways, moving from shadow to shadow. No one seemed to see him in his great coat and slouch hat, thin face held in stolid indifference.

 

Only the intentness of his gaze betrayed he had a goal in mind as he paced along.

 

The agent found the group of sailors as they paused at a crossroads. They debated amongst themselves which way they should go. Finally they split up to follow their own interests. A couple of them picked up a shadow, walking behind them while keeping out of sight as naturally as possible.

 

Codename: V watched them go into a house of ill repute. He decided to wait for them to return to the ship. He needed a vantage point to arrange an ambush.

 

The agent changed his appearance to match his chosen target with the help of a makeup kit, some clothes that almost matched what the man had worn, and time to accomplish things. No one would be able to tell the difference as long as his mask wasn't marred.

 

He needed to listen to the man talk so he could get the accent right. He already spoke German as fluently as a native to the Fatherland.

 

Codename: V waited patiently for the two men to finish their business and start back for the ship. He listened to them talk as he walked behind them. His ambush site was ahead. He grimaced at what he proposed to do. He needed both men to make it back to the ship, but he could only impersonate one of them.

 

He would have to make sure not to execute the other to make his impersonation believable.

 

The master of disguise grabbed the other man by the back of the neck. He couldn't afford for his disguise to be seen before he reached the icebreaker. He applied pressure and the man went down without a sound.

 

The target of the impersonation turned when he saw his friend hit the ground. A hand spun him around before he got a close look at their attacker. A choke hold put him to sleep in a matter of minutes.

 

Codename: V rifled their pockets for identification and money. He took his primary target and dumped him in a barrel without clothing. He donned the uniform to complete his disguise. He threw his original secondhand gear away since he didn't need it anymore. He awakened the other man when he was sure no one had seen the substitution.

 

"We have been robbed." Codename: V planted the idea. "I don't have anything left."

 

If the man suspected the exchange, the agent would have to kill him and go back to the ship as the other man. He could claim that the man had separated from him to visit a brothel on his own.

 

"We should get back to the ship, Gustav." V smiled inwardly. He didn't have to kill the other man after all. "We will have to worry about our identification later. The captain will leave us if we're not at roll call."

 

"I agree." The agent helped his victim along.

 

The two men arrived at the docks last. The others V had observed were already boarding the gangplank. Some waved at the two men. V waved back to keep up his impersonation. Now he had to fit in with numerous people who knew the target.

 

V pushed aside his worries and let the other man do the explaining about their appearance. He wanted to gather intelligence to use. He could do that by keeping silent and listening to everyone who came within earshot.

 

The more he knew, the better his disguise.

 

The agent drifted, picking up that the crew was still on stand down. He searched the ship without seeming to, talking to any who talked to him and disengaging as soon as possible. He couldn't give himself away before the ship left the harbor.

 

It looked like a standard cold weather expedition. He found nothing out of the ordinary.

 

Codename: V retired to his bunk. He turned in, listening as the crew went about its business. When they sailed, he would do some more investigating. Until then he would stay out of the way.

 

Information was his business. He needed to relay some of what he had gathered back to the listening post the service kept on the mainland. Other agents would be mobilized for a rescue if he needed it.

 

He doubted he would. He had informed Doctor Shadow of the overall scheme. The American had not prevented the artifacts from being gathered, but had acted as enough of a smokescreen that the agent had been able to infiltrate the target zone. That had been greatly beneficial.

 

Doc Shadow had a reputation. So far he had lived up to it. No doubt he was thinking of some way to catch up to the Baron and his partners. A plane crash and a walk through the jungle wouldn't stop him.

 

And his entourage had their own abilities that added to the mix.

 

Codename: V had sent in descriptions for a records search. The service had sent back small files gathered about the subjects. The information indicated they were a match to keep up with the good doctor. That made them valuable as distractions also.

 

He had to find out what the Baron wanted and seize it. War was on the way. England needed every weapon it could lay hands on to fight it.

 

He felt it would be easier to put bullets in everyone aboard and take the map from Tribolyte. He decided not to do that since he had no idea how to make the map work in the first place. He needed to wait.

 

Codename: V listened to the ship get under way. Soon enough he would have to join the crew and carry out his new duties. He had a period of weeks to perfect his disguise and work to keep blending in with the rest of the sailors on deck.

 

He had time to figure out how to get on the expedition when they reached land. He would have to figure out his escape plan when he saw the lay of the land.

 

He needed to work on planning ahead. Improvisation had its uses, but nothing matched being able to maneuver others into carrying out his missions for him without anyone else knowing he was involved.

 

That would the perfect mission. He could sit back and watch from a distance without anyone realizing his hand moved the pieces. Unfortunately that rarely happened in his experience.

 

Sometimes he had to reveal himself to carry out his orders no matter how much he wanted to remain invisible.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Thanks guys. Sometimes, I am not sure if I am being clear in the stated actions.

CES

[DusterBoy]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

I like your depiction of CodenameL V, csyphrett. He's a ninja genin in all but name.

 

PS: Genin was the rank of ninja that actually carried out the missions.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

I like your depiction of CodenameL V' date=' csyphrett. He's a ninja [i']genin[/i] in all but name.

 

PS: Genin was the rank of ninja that actually carried out the missions.

 

Well he does have three very important sources: V that posts here on the boards and lives in London, I believe. V's avatar which is V from V for Vendetta. and The Shadow.

CES

[DusterBoy]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Well he does have three very important sources: V that posts here on the boards and lives in London, I believe. V's avatar which is V from V for Vendetta. and The Shadow.

CES

 

Groovius maximus, babius!

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

20

 

 

Doc Shadow examined the sky as he led the way through the jungle. The foliage parted for him like water. He scouted ahead and returned to make sure none of his new colleagues got in trouble.

 

The Germans' ability to fly had gained them the upper hand at the moment. He needed a plane to catch up. Whatever they wanted, he was determined to not let them have it.

 

Doc paused at the edge of the jungle. The way ahead had been cleared for a plantation. Workers picked plants in orderly fields. He could get help from the outside world. One call would put his agents on alert.

 

Doc doubled back to let the others know his plan. They should know what he planned to do in case of trouble. He didn't need them killed before he could get them on their way back to their homes.

 

"There's a plantation ahead." Doc appeared in front of the others as they struggled to follow him.

"I'm going to ask to use the phone to get us transportation. Then we can get supplies and rest before we follow our enemies."

 

"I'm for that." The Comic leaned against a tree. His ribs still hurt but at least the body armor he had sewn into his costume had saved his life from the bullet in the back. "We'll follow as fast as we can."

 

"No need to hurry." Doc examined the other four. They looked exhausted. "I'll go in and have a talk with the owners. As soon as I can arrange transport to a city with an airport, I'll come back and get you."

 

"Sounds like a plan." The Comic pulled himself straight. "Let's get going, gold bricks. The faster we can get out of this mess, the better I'll like it."

 

"Five more minutes." Tim crouched, face red, shirt soaked through. "I can barely walk."

 

"Take your time." Doc turned to go. "If there's any trouble, circle south and follow the road to wherever it leads. The plantation has to have some way to export their goods to the rest of the world."

 

"We'll get there." The Comic lifted Tim up on his unhurt side. "I'll carry the boy."

 

"We'll carry the boy." Pattern Ghost lifted on Tim's other side. "Look out for us, Dr. Walkur."

 

Doc Shadow retraced his steps as the crimebusters followed as fast as they could. He reached the plantation easily. He descended toward the fields. He felt it was better to talk to one of the workers before trying the person in charge.

 

Laborers tended to be friendlier than their bosses.

 

Doc Shadow joined a line of men, examining the plants they worked hard to gather. He frowned at the beans they placed in bags.

 

"What do you want here?" One of the men glared at the newcomer.

 

"I hoped to call for assistance." Doc decided he had been right to walk in alone. "My plane crashed in the jungle."

 

"Don't let the overseers see you." Another of the men stared around him as he spoke. "They shoot strangers on sight."

 

"Is there anywhere I can go to use a phone?" Doc kept his eyes moving.

 

"Not around here." The men tried to edge away from the stranger. "You must leave before there's trouble."

 

"Thank you." Doc faded out of line. He decided to meet with the others to plan their next move. He couldn't let them walk into potential trouble.

 

Doc made it halfway back to the concealing jungle when he heard someone shout. He looked around. A man on a horse leveled a rifle at him in the distance. He sprinted for the trees.

 

Bullets clawed for the man of adventure. His speed carried him to the trees as divots of dirt erupted around him. He pulled his own pistol as he went. He inserted a special shell as he kept moving.

 

Doc didn't bother to shoot at the guard. The range was too much for his pistol. Instead he fired the shell into the ground at his feet. Darkness covered him in an expanding fog of blackness.

 

Doc headed in the direction his comrades would be coming toward him. He needed to tell them they were about to be hunted by angry slave owners. He expected their reaction to be less than positive.

 

Doc found the others struggling along. They weren't in any shape for a fight after their trek through the jungle.

 

"We have trouble coming." Doc looked back at where the plantation lay. "I need you to hide until I deal with this."

 

"You just can't stay out of trouble." The Comic limped to a nearby tree. "I hope the rest of you can climb trees."

 

"You go ahead." Pattern Ghost nodded. "I'll hand Tim up. Then we can set up our own ambush."

 

"I'll take this tree over here." Haven indicated a tree across from the one the Comic was scurrying up. "I wish I had brought my pistol."

 

"I'll circle around and try to flank them." Doc started into the trees. In a few seconds he had vanished with his usual speed and silence.

 

Doc heard men heading into the jungle as he circled around. He had determined that he wouldn't let them get close to his new friends. He would ambush them from behind before they reached the clearing where the others waited.

 

Doc checked the load in his pistol as he worked his way around the search pattern the plantation guards had set up to entrap him. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he wasn't going to let them hurt anyone in distress.

 

The others needed water, food, and rest. They were tough, but they were also at the edge of their resources. A mouse could kill them the way they were now.

 

Doc found himself at the back of the spreading crowd on their horses. No one looked his way. He pointed the pistol and let fly. Clouds of gas covered the horsemen. They didn't have time to look around before they started falling asleep. The horses dropped their heads as they fell asleep also.

 

Doc faded into the greenery. He reloaded as he watched for others. No one seemed to be in the trees with him.

 

Doc listened for a few minutes more. Then he went over to the fallen guards. He started tying them up with their belts, making sure to throw their weapons away. He didn't want them to cause problems while he was dealing with the rest of the situation.

 

He headed back to the edge of the jungle. He wondered how many he had left to try and stop him. He needed to find that out before he headed down into the growing fields.

 

Doc pulled out his binoculars and scanned the cleared area in front of him. There were a few men looking back at him with hands over their eyes for shading. He doubted they could see him where he was standing.

 

Doc couldn't shoot them from where he stood.

 

Doc also couldn't head down there. That would leave him open to be shot with rifles as he headed down there.

 

He could set fire to their crops. That would cause some commotion. Maybe he could use that as a distraction.

 

That would suit him fine.

 

Doc decided to circle around the clearing. If everyone was on this side of the giant farm, he could come in from the other side. All he needed was a phone. After that, burning the place down became a viable alternative.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

21

Tim blinked his eyes. He looked out over the trees. He couldn’t see anyone. Where was the bad guys?

 

“I think Doc took care of them.” Tim wiped his face with the back of his hand.

 

“I think so too.” The Comic shifted in his perch. “We’ll give him a couple more minutes. Then we’ll move to another lookout.”

 

Tim nodded. He felt hot and tired. His tongue filled his mouth like a giant slug. He needed the water.

 

After the time elapsed, the Comic and Tim climbed down out of their trees. They started forward, looking for a counter ambush from the search party they expected. Haven Walkur joined them moments later.

 

“Where is Pattern Ghost?” The doctor straightened her pith helmet. “We seem to have lost him.”

 

“Maybe he went after Doc.” Tim struggled forward. The trees and bushes wouldn’t get out of his way like he expected.

 

“Let me.” Haven pushed forward. She led the way with care. She held up her hand after a few moments. Then she gestured for them to come forward.

 

They found a mass of men sleeping on the ground. Rifles, pistols, and knives were in a jumble to one side. More important, some of the sleeping horses had canteens on their saddles.

 

“Slowly.” Haven pulled one of the canteens and sniffed it. It seemed all right to her. “If I fall over, the water is no good for us.”

 

“Don’t jinx us, Doc.” The Comic took the rest of the canteens. They needed it more than the guards.

 

Haven sipped the water. It tasted warm, and a little bitter. Still she didn’t feel anything happening to her gut. She took a deeper drink.

 

“What do we do now?” Tim looked at the edge of trees. He thought the plantation they had spoken of had to be beyond that line. That gave them a large amount of ground they would have to cover if they wanted to get to the main house.

 

“We check out if there are any more guards next.” The Comic hung the canteens over his shoulder. “Then we come up with a plan to make them come up here just like this bunch.”

 

“What about Doctor Shadow?” Haven grabbed several of the discarded pistols and loaded them in her jacket pockets.

 

“He went in.” The Comic limped to the line where the cover started to fade away. “You know the man. He probably thinks he’s protecting us.”

 

“I suppose Pattern Ghost did the same thing.” Dr. Walkur squatted beside the bright vigilante, rifle in hand.

 

“He is invisible.” Tim stood beside a tree on the other side of a slit next to his two allies. “I should call G.A. to speed things up.”

 

“How did you two become partners anyway?” The Comic eyed the kid.

 

“I found him.” Tim watched the guards waiting in the fields below where they stood. “They don’t seem ready to come up here.”

 

“We’re definitely not ready to go down there.” The Comic counted the enemy as he checked his gear. “They’re all looking up here. They don’t know what happened to their friends, they don’t want what happened to their friends happening to them.”

 

“I agree.” Haven pointed the rifle down at the field. “How do we lure them up here?”

 

“Can you shoot one of them?” Tim put his back to the tree. “Maybe that will stir them up.”

 

“Take some water, Tim.” Haven handed over the canteen. “I was thinking of asking Ghost Angel to go down and talk with them.”

 

“I can ask him.” Tim sipped the water. “He likes to do his own thing.”

 

“Exploding heads is good with me, kid.” The Comic raised his mask just enough to wipe his face off.

 

“Just the right ones.” Haven squinted at the plantation. “We don’t want our friends getting caught in the crossfire.”

 

Tim sipped his water. He nodded. He didn’t have any control over Ghost Angel. The Spirit of Vengeance did what he wanted to do. Causing heads to explode was his way of doing things the easiest way he knew how.

 

Someone else could clean up the mess when he was done.

 

Tim sipped some more water. His mouth felt better. At least nothing was trying to kill him. He would ask G.A. after this was done.

 

He didn’t want something living inside of him because he had to drink bad water.

 

“Let’s do this.” The Comic straightened. “The faster we get to a good hotel, the better I’ll like it.”

 

“All right.” Tim looked around the tree. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

 

Tim said his mantra. Ghost Angel appeared in front of them. His expression seemed more concerned about Tim then he usually expressed.

 

“Can you help us?” Tim looked at his guardian. “We want to go down and talk to the guy who owns that joint down there.”

 

“I’m the Spirit of Vengeance, not the auto club.” Ghost Angel frowned at Tim.

 

“These guys came up to kill us.” The Comic pointed at the sleeping mob. “Doesn’t that qualify for talking to the rest before you go back to wherever you hang your hat.”

 

“Your invisible man is down there.” Ghost Angel looked at the masked vigilante. “I’m sure he’s working on some scheme.”

 

“Don’t you think he needs help?” Dr. Walkur studied the thing in black. She had heard about such things. That didn’t make the boogie real. Folklore was full of such things.

 

“I don’t have to explain myself.” Ghost Angel looked at her. Her face warmed at the look.

 

“Do you mind?” Tim sipped some more water. “We need to get out of this jungle. Doc Shadow is down there, Pattern Ghost is down there. We need to look out for them, just as much as we have to get the job done.”

 

“I’ll go down there and talk to them.” Ghost Angel turned and started walking. “Stay here until it looks safe.”

 

“I hope this is a good idea.” The Comic watched the thing drift away.

 

“Get ready to cover your eyes if he takes off his glasses.” Tim made sure his own sunglasses covered his face.

 

“How does he do what he does?” Haven turned so she couldn’t look down on the fields without effort. That should minimize accidents. “I didn’t get much of a chance to observe on the plane.”

 

“I don’t know.” Tim sat down. “I think it’s spirit power.”

 

“But what is that?” Haven looked at Tim. He didn’t look healthy to her. “How does it work?”

 

“I don’t know.” Tim closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. “All I know is he has some kind of energy and he can use it. I don’t know anything else about it.”

 

“It doesn’t matter how he does what he does.” The Comic gestured for Haven to stop talking. “We just need him to clear a path for us.”

 

Haven nodded. The Comic kept his eyes on the thing in black, but he also seemed to be watching Tim for problems. The boy could die on them from dehydration.

 

What would Ghost Angel do if that happened?

 

“Get ready to go when Ghost Angel scares them off.” The Comic hopped over the notch in the foliage. “We’ll have to get down there fast if we want to get cover close to the guys we need to beat up.”

 

“Do you think Pattern Ghost and Doctor Shadow will understand the plan?” Haven pointed her rifle at the guards.

 

“We’ll know soon enough.” The Comic hooked Tim’s arm with his own. “Get ready to run.”

[DusterBoy]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Oooh, the tension is making my fingertips tingle!

 

Great work, csyphrett!

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

22

 

 

Pattern Ghost walked pass the workers in the field. His suit was on. Invisibility brought some relief from the tropical heat.

 

He figured he was halfway across the fields when he noted the disturbance rolling through the guards behind him. Then he saw Ghost Angel striding forward with fedora pulled low. The guards aimed rifles at him.

 

"Run!" Pattern Ghost called out. He didn't want the workers killed in the crossfire. "Vamonos!"

 

The field hands looked around for the unseen caller. Then they decided to follow the unseen command. They ran, leaving their bags on the ground behind him. They would pick the sacks up if someone gathered them back up to work the plants again.

 

The guards tried to decide whether they shoot the fleeing men in the back, or shoot the advancing spirit. Pattern Ghost decided to give them something else to think about. He fired his electric pistol into the ground between the running workers and the horsemen. A cloud of dirt blasted into a fog to provide cover.

 

Pattern Ghost shifted position. He didn't want them to zero in on him. The pistol used too much of his power in his suit which caused his invisibility to flicker like a flash camera bulb.

 

Ghost Angel said something to one of the guards as he came down the last few feet to where they tried to get their horses under control. Pattern Ghost kept moving. He knew what the spirit could do to gun men when he was that close.

 

A scream followed the invisible avenger as he made his way to the compound of buildings. If there was anyone inside, he could deal with them while Ghost Angel did his thing. At least heads weren't exploding yet.

 

Pattern Ghost paused when he saw Doc Shadow making for the back door of the mansion. It looked like they both had the same idea. The invisible man went to the front door. More guards were trying to shut and bar the wooden barrier.

 

Pattern Ghost paused long enough to take aim with his electric pistol. He pulled the trigger. The guards screamed as exploding wood sent splinters into their skins. Men screamed as they clutched at their burnt flesh.

 

Pattern Ghost picked his way pass the troops. He wanted to get inside to look around. If Ghost Angel kept coming, he wouldn't need to worry about them for much longer.

 

Pattern Ghost headed into the house, looking around. He didn't want to use the pistol on a living person. That would turn the target into a rotten tomato against a wall. He had nothing against using it against walls, doors, floors, and furniture.

 

Doc Shadow appeared briefly at the other end of the mansion. The house had been built to leave most of the bottom floor open from front to back. Stairs led to the second story.

 

"I'm here, Doc Shadow." Pattern Ghost moved to avoid anyone using his voice to home in on where he stood. It had become habit after the last few years of his career.

 

Doc Shadow maintained his silence. The fact that his name had been shouted in a fortress in the middle of a jungle might make the owner a little scared.

 

That depended on how far Doc's reputation had spread to the backwaters of the world.

 

Pattern Ghost started up the stairs. He wanted to be across such a narrow gap before something happened. Men with pistols could fill the space between wall and rail with bullets before he could fire with his own weapon.

 

Pattern Ghost jumped on the landing and moved next to a bedroom door. The door opened. The resident inside looked out but saw no one in the hall. Pattern Ghost slammed the door in the half a face he could see. He pulled the knob on the rebound so the entrance would close to whoever was inside.

 

Pattern Ghost went the next door in line. He pushed it open from a distance. A hail of bullets persuaded him not to go inside.

 

Pattern Ghost peeked around the frame when the gunfire paused. He aimed the pistol and fired at a desk. The wood went up in flames from the artificial lightning. He looked again. The shooter lay on the carpet, face blackened by the blast.

 

Pattern Ghost moved on. He needed to find anyone else in the rooms and make sure they couldn't be a threat while Doc Shadow did whatever he was doing.

 

Voices drifted to him from the last room on the right. It sounded like Spanish but he only spoke a few words. Then he heard the bang of wood on something. An invisible hand slid the door open so he could look inside the room.

 

Doc Shadow held a phone to his ear. He had his pistol pointed at the door as he spoke. Feet sticking out from behind the desk explained the crack Pattern Ghost heard. Doc spoke into the phone, then hung up.

 

"Transportation is on the way." Doc started for the door, holding the pistol ready but pointed at the floor.

 

"Tim turned Ghost Angel loose on the farm hands." Pattern Ghost stepped out of the way to let him pass. "I don't know how many are still alive."

 

"Let's get the others." Doc headed for the stairs. "A plane will be arriving to pick us up soon."

 

"What about this plantation?" Pattern Ghost stayed steps behind the man of adventure. Anyone who came upon them would target Doc Shadow first. That would give him an edge to return fire.

 

"Foreigners own the land. They make sure that no one knows what is going on, and bribe anyone who might be interested in stopping it." Doc headed for the back door. "I'll see what I can do when I reach home."

 

"Don't tell me you're going to buy the land." Pattern Ghost shook his head. "Can you do that?"

 

"We'll see what we can do for these people when we have caught up with our combined enemies." Doc Shadow used the frame of the double doors as cover. The last thing he wanted was to look Ghost Angel in the eye. "That's the best we can do at the moment."

 

"Got it." Pattern Ghost opened the back door and headed out into the yard. He figured the buildings on the left and right were barracks for the men. "I'll go ahead and get the others."

 

"I'll look around for stragglers." Doc Shadow broke off. "I'll see you when you get back. Be careful."

 

Pattern Ghost walked back across the field. He noted only one body with its head gone. No one else stood on the field but Ghost Angel. He had scared the men and horses bad enough to send all of them running for the hills.

 

The invisible avenger would have done the same if he was in their shoes.

 

He had to admit he had his fill of excitement over the last few days. If only one corpse was all that remained on the field, he was happy.

 

"You come back alone, invisible man?" Ghost Angel blew smoke from his lips as he lowered his hand. It was almost like he was smoking an invisible cigarette.

 

"Doc Shadow is checking out the rest of the buildings." Pattern Ghost was glad he held his pistol in his hand for all the good it would do him. Ghost Angel may be Tim's attack dog, but that didn't make him friendly to the rest of them. "We're moving into the house. Doc had a talk with the owner."

 

"I'm sure he did." Ghost Angel took another puff of cigarette. "I expect Tim to be on the next plane home."

 

"We're going ahead." Pattern Ghost made sure to keep his face averted. "We need your help, and Tim is the only one you listen to. I doubt he'll go on his own."

 

"Tim is not my commander." Ghost Angel threw the ghost cigarette away in a drifting spark. "He just points when he sees something wrong. I don't want him hurt chasing this particular breed of criminal down."

 

"We'll do what we can to keep him safe." Pattern Ghost hoped that wasn't the wrong thing to say. "Doc has already called for a plane. We'll be heading into civilization to rest and regroup. I'll keep an eye on Tim myself."

 

"I'll hold you to that." Ghost Angel faded from the field with each word. "If something happens to Tim while in your care, I will not be pleased."

 

Pattern Ghost groaned. Then he headed for the jungle to find the rest of the gang. It was time to get together.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

23

 

Dr. Haven Walkur smiled for the first time in days. She sipped tea as she waited for her hair to dry in the South American sun. Soon enough, she would have very little reason to smile.

 

"Doc called." The Comic called through the door. "We're heading out."

 

"Give me a few minutes to get dressed." Haven called back.

 

"Can I watch?" The Comic called back.

 

"Don't be ridiculous." Haven had a suit of traveling clothes laid out on the bed. She pulled them on quickly, making sure her brace of revolvers were loaded and ready to use.

 

Haven stepped out in the hall. The Comic had gone ahead. She suspected he was the type of person to peek through keyholes.

 

Haven reached the front of the hotel. The Comic, Tim, and Doc Shadow waited for her at the door. The staff waved at her as she passed. She suspected they thought she and Doc Shadow were involved and Tim's parents.

 

She waved back.

 

Doc Shadow was famous as a scientist, adventurer, and a self made millionaire. That was good qualifications for most women. Having spent time with the man, Haven knew he would be terrible as a husband.

 

He just didn't have the mind set for it.

 

"I have arctic wear and gear ready for us at the airport." Doc Shadow got behind the wheel of the car to drive them to the hangar he had secured through his agents. "Another flying boat will help us get ahead of the Germans."

 

"How do we find them?" The Comic appeared more chipper since he had time for the ache in his back to lessen.

 

"I'm sure they are headed to a mountainous plain towards the center of the continent." Doc Shadow concentrated on the road ahead. "We'll have to trail them once they start overland. I don't see any way to stop them from getting to the treasure. They have too much of a head start."

 

"So we catch them at the treasure spot, or on the way back." Tim smoothed his fresh black tie down as the slipstream from their traveling invaded the car.

 

"If we can." Doc didn't emphasize the fact they might not be able to stop the enemy once they had their hands on whatever they were after.

 

"What do you think the treasure could be?" Haven rode shotgun, letting the wind dry her hair as they rode along.

 

"I don't know." Doc dodged a man leading a donkey carrying goods.

 

"We know the map is old as dirt." The Comic made sure to keep his masked face hidden from passersby on the street. "My piece came from Persia as far as my grandfather could trace back."

 

"The one I discovered with my expedition was hidden in a temple that we just discovered." Haven closed her eyes to picture the site again. "We tentatively placed the date before Christ but we weren't sure."

 

"So whatever they are looking for has been there for a long time." Doc passed another car, crossed several more streets, then turned on the road heading to the airport.

 

He pulled his pistol as he glanced in the mirror.

 

"I think we have trouble." Doc sped up, pushing the pedal all the way down.

 

A truck backed up in front of them to block the road. Men poured out. They pointed machine guns at the speeding car. They pulled their triggers.

 

Haven ducked down behind the dashboard. Her pistols roared flame at the spies trying to kill them. She heard Tim shouting something that sounded like Get off, but she was more concerned by the bullets smashing the window glass in front of her.

 

Doc Shadow pointed his left arm out the window on his side and fired his pistol. Dark clouds marked gas being delivered to the agents. His right arm aimed the car for an opening around the truck so they could keep on course without being trapped by Hitler's minions.

 

Haven concentrated on simply clearing the sights of any target she might see as they rolled on. Several men sprouted bloody flowers as they went down.

 

The Comic's laughter filled the car for a few seconds as the back window broke out from his baton. He filled the roadway with contents from his utility belt. Explosions, smoke, and screams filled the air when the pursuit cars hit his traps.

 

Haven felt a tug on her arm, pulling her back inside of the car. The Ford went up on two wheels as Doc negotiated the turn. It slammed down on the other side of the truck. She turned to look behind her.

 

Chaos reigned on the access road. Their little group had broken free while leaving a bevy of bodies and damage that would stall the agents until their plane was up in the air.

 

"You didn't have to push me down." Tim brushed his jacket off. "I just got this suit."

 

"Pattern Ghost promised your guard dog that he would take responsibility for you." The Comic handed Tim his hat. "Since he couldn't be here, I figured I owed him enough to make sure you didn't get ventilated."

 

"G.A. would never do anything." Tim pulled his hat back on. "He's a big softie."

 

"Don't you believe that, kid." The Comic secured his pouches. "Ghost Angel is anything but a softie."

 

"He's dangerous, Tim." Haven reloaded her pistols. "And for some reason he wants to protect you."

 

"He can't protect me." Tim adjusted his glasses. "He's a spirit of vengeance. Protecting people is not in their mission."

 

"That doesn't mean he doesn't want to." Haven tucked one of the pistols away, but held on to the other one in case of trouble. "If I didn't know better, I would say he's attached to you."

 

"That goes double for me." The Comic looked out the back window. "I'm dead certain."

 

"Spirits of vengeance aren't allowed attachments." Tim huffed in the back seat, arms crossed. "They'll take away his job."

 

"You're his friend." The Comic nodded at the sound of sirens in the distance. That didn't promise help for them. Cops could have been paid to stop them if the ambush failed. "Ask him."

 

"What do you think, Doc?" Tim frowned at the lot of them.

 

"There's our hangar." Doc slid the car to a halt in front of the metal building. "Everyone out and ready."

 

Doc jumped from behind the wheel. He still had half a clip of gas bullets in his pistol. He would use them on anyone he saw that looked dangerous.

 

Haven jumped out on her side. She didn't see anyone lurking. She hoped Pattern Ghost hadn't fallen in some kind of trap.

 

"Looks all clear, Doc." The Comic dragged Tim with him. "Let's check the plane."

 

Doc Shadow went to the door. He pushed it open with a call. He didn't want Pattern Ghost shooting him by mistake. He didn't see anything. He heard a small buzzing.

 

"What's going on?" Pattern Ghost's voice drifted down from above. "I heard a commotion."

 

"We had a welcoming party." Doc lowered his weapon. "Are you ready to go?"

 

"Yes." Pattern Ghost spoke from a little to the left. "Everything is packed and ready like we talked about."

 

"Then let's get out of here before more goons show up." The Comic pushed the doors open wide so the new plane glistened in the daylight. "Time's wasting."

[Haven Walkur]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Very entertaining, Csyphrett. Kudos for successfully keeping track of so many characters -- and keeping them in character.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Thank you very much.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Doctor Algernon Shadow sat in the pilot's seat, watching the ocean fly by below. The Comic sat in the copilot's seat scanning his side of the plane. Pasted to the window was a picture of the ship they were looking for in that expanse.

 

"You said you thought the Germans were heading towards the center of the continent." Haven Walkur sat in a passenger seat behind Doc. "What made you think that?"

 

"The map I saw had a particular spot marked out." Doc Shadow checked the fuel gauge. "I'm sure that a sign will reveal itself once we get closer to it."

 

"How do you think they're getting there from the coast?" Tim Daschle spoke from the other passenger seat. The Comic and Doc Shadow were the detectives like Sherlock Holmes, or Craig Kennedy. Dr. Walkur was smarter than he was, but he figured she didn't have to search for a lot of clues with what she did.

 

Archaeology probably didn't teach anything about solving mysteries.

 

"There's various ways." Doc Shadow didn't elaborate on what he thought would be used. The others gave him faces of disgust at his reticence.

 

"Would you care to elaborate?" Haven closed her eyes.

 

"Dog sleds, treaded carriers, skis, or some kind of flying device like a balloon or plane could be used." Doc's voice didn't vary as he talked.

 

"I know what you're thinking." The Comic glanced at his comrade. "They're going to fly to wherever they have to go."

 

"It crossed my mind." Doc seemed reluctant to admit that much. "It fitted with the balloons they used to escape from the jungle."

 

"You could just say that." Tim tapped the arm of his chair.

 

"He won't because of the way he thinks." Haven smiled at the sidekick.

 

"I don't understand." Tim looked back, smoothing his tie down.

 

"He doesn't like to guess. He likes to see what's going on while planning for the chance he's right." The Comic's laughter filled the cabin.

 

"Exactly." Haven smiled again.

 

"What happens if you're wrong, Doc?" Tim smiled now that he understood what's going on.

 

"If you plan for everything, you're never wrong." Doc kept his own amusement to himself. He didn't realize he was that transparent.

 

"So let's say they're going to fly from wherever they land." The Comic turned his attention back to the ocean. "What are the likeliest places they can launch from down there?"

 

"I have charts from the aerial expeditions." Haven pulled the tubes from their slots and opened one while tucking one in her seat beside her leg. "Assuming they sailed straight south, there are at least five places they could land and set up a runway to put a plane in the air."

 

"If we don't find the ship, we'll check them next." Doc checked his watch. "We're about halfway along their possible route."

 

"They can't be that far ahead." The Comic took his glasses from his eyes for a moment. "They only left a few days ahead of us."

 

"Ships aren't that fast?" Tim hadn't thought about that.

 

"No." Haven put the first tube back in its rack with contents replaced. "The ocean creates resistance for a ship to plow over when under sail. A plane is much faster."

 

"The difference is that a plane is faster but has limited range." The Comic put in. "A ship can carry cargo and has a longer range because of its bigger tanks."

 

"I got that." Tim nodded. "Since we don't know where they went, they can take their time and try to shake us."

 

"Exactly." Haven nodded as she unrolled the other map. "Our job will be to catch up to them and find out what's going on."

 

"What are you looking at, Doctor Walkur?" Tim looked over, stretching against his seatbelt.

 

"Antarctica has had several aerial expeditions fly over it." Haven showed him the chart by holding it in front of her body. "The captains had maps drawn up to add to what we know."

 

"I can't read it." Tim squinted at the drawing. "It's just a bunch of wavy lines to me."

 

"This is a picture of what they passed over as best they could draw it." Haven indicated one spot on the map. "This is a mountain that was estimated at being twenty-thousand feet."

 

"And this is where we think they're going?" Tim nodded his head. "Can't we just fly to the mountains and check it out."

 

"We'll lose them if we're wrong." The Comic cut in on the lesson. "Just because Doc saw a region marked, doesn't mean they'll go there."

 

"And we could run out of fuel while searching." Doc checked his watch again. "It would be bad to be trapped at the South Pole with no transportation."

 

"We'd freeze to death before we reached the ocean to try and sail back to South America." Haven beat the Comic to the punch. She could tell by the way he winced over his spyglasses.

 

"I can see that." Tim smiled in understanding. "Will we have to land?"

 

"Only if we have to refuel." Doc indicated the cargo area of the plane. "That's why I had storage tanks placed on board."

 

"Is there anything I can do?" Tim looked at the others.

 

"There's nothing you can do unless you want to search from one of the windows in the back." Doc checked his watch again. He fiddled with the radio dials. "When we land, you'll have to carry some of our gear."

 

"I can do that." Tim puffed up. "I'll go back and see what I can do. I don't want to just sit around like a fifth wheel."

 

"It's getting cold as it is." Haven put her chart back before getting out of her seat. "Will the cabin keep everything above zero?"

 

"It should." Doc listened to the radio on his earphones. "We have heaters in the wings to prevent them from icing up, and we have heaters in the body to keep us warm. I don't know how well they'll perform."

 

"Let's lay out our cold weather gear, Tim." Haven started for the back of the plane. "We'll set up our packs for traveling."

 

"Great." Tim followed quickly. "What do you think we'll need?"

 

"We'll need our coats, insulated clothing, boots for starters." Haven ticked things off on her fingers. "A supply of food, a cooker, and tents to keep out the wind."

 

"Don't forget the goggles to protect our eyes." Doc still seemed more interested in his radio news.

 

"I won't." Haven stepped through the door into the main body of the flying boat.

 

"We need to protect our eyes?" Tim followed, rocking with the deck.

 

"Snow and ice can cause blindness if you stare at it too long." Haven went to the cases stored on racks against the wall of the plane.

 

"That's good to know." Tim touched his sunglasses without thinking.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

25

 

Codename: V arrived on deck with the rest of the laborers. His disguise had carried him through for the last few days. He didn't know how much longer he could carry it off.

 

He might have to jump ship and return to civilization somehow.

 

Codename: V listened to the instructions from a crew chief. Then he joined with his set of crew members to start working bags in place to catch hydrogen from tanks stored below decks.

 

Soon, a miniature zeppelin reached for the sky. A crew boarded the cigar shaped passenger section by sliding from the deck of the cargo ship and scaling the ropes anchoring the blimp. The Baron had led the crew up.

 

Codename: V looked around. He had to get on board without being seen. He couldn't allow himself to be left behind. That blimp could take him to the end of things.

 

The agent grabbed one of the anchor ropes. He hooked it to his belt. He had to make what he was about to do looked like an accident. No one could suspect that he had tied himself to the rope to sail with the blimp.

 

The other sailors cut loose the moorings. The blimp headed up and away from the shore. The operative cut the base of his line. The balloon yanked him from the deck so that he swung out in the open air.

 

Codename: V started up the line. He looked down. Some of the crew had seen him flying into space. They pointed up at him. He expected a welcoming committee when he reached the balloon.

 

The agent saw a door open in the gondola. Men waited there for him. He had no chance if he let go, the rope separated, or if they shot at him. He had to use his disguise to get aboard.

 

Everyone knew his public face. He could play this off as a spot of bad luck.

 

V pulled himself up the line. Hands reached out to help him aboard. He took them. If he misjudged, they would throw him from zeppelin. The Baron arrived with his strange passengers. The Englishman stared at him.

 

V retreated into his disguise, thinking in German, acting as his mark would act. He saluted the Baron, stating his name and rank.

 

"Seaman Grundt?" The Baron frowned at the new arrival. "What happened?"

 

"I got caught up in the rope, sir." Seaman Grundt stood at attention. "It yanked me off the deck."

 

"Why don't you join us, Mr. Grundt?" The Englishman spoke in English. "The more, the merrier."

 

"Pardon." Seaman Grundt took refuge in ignorance.

 

"He wants you to join us, Seaman." The Baron turned his gaze on the Englishman. Apparently he didn't have an egalitarian view of the common crew mixing with command and special guests.

 

"Whatever your please." Codename: V didn't like that at all. That put him at the center of attention.

 

"Do you speak English, Seaman Grundt?" The Englishman paced ahead to the plastic windows in front of the wheel.

 

"Some." Grundt walked in what could be considered marching order. He scanned the area for anything useful to his disguise.

 

"Good." The Englishman gestured for him to stand closer. "What do you see?"

 

"Snow." Grundt wondered where this was going.

 

"I see a burial ground for a meddling English secret service agent." The Englishman glared at Codename: V. The master of disguise blew through the window in a shattering of plastic.

 

V shrugged off the agony in his head to concentrate on saving his own life. He didn't know how his disguise had failed. That was unimportant.

 

Codename: V reached out with his hands. He secured a grip on the basket. He swung below the gondola. Now he had to get inside without being seen.

 

Codename: V worked his way around toward the door. He grimaced when he saw men at the door. They seemed to be looking for his body. He wondered how long that would last. He couldn't hang out in the cold forever.

 

The agent saw a chance to get out this alive. He needed them to be looking the other way while he saved his life.

 

Since he couldn't get that, he had to do the best he could with what he had.

 

Codename: V pulled himself up and grabbed a guide rope leading up to the balloon. It would be easy to blow a hole in the side of the basket and wipe everyone out. He was confident that he could take his fellow Briton. That wouldn't get him whatever they were looking for in the frozen wasteland.

 

The agent scaled the side of the balloon like a spider. He reached the top and headed for the center of the bag. He secured a grip and looked around for options.

 

He couldn't get into the closed basket without killing everyone in front of him. He couldn't drop off the side and walk back to the boat. The fall would kill him. He didn't have any means of dropping to the ground since the moorings had been pulled in by the zeppelin crew.

 

Quick eyes spotted a reasonable solution to his problem. He hoped that he had it.

 

Codename: V moved forward. He found a flap. Ties secured it to the top of the balloon. Crew could climb out of the gas bag through that to affect repairs to the balloon. He would have to cut if he wanted to get through that.

 

And he had a knife.

 

Codename: V slipped his blade under the flap. He cut the ties. He dropped down inside the gas bag. He pulled the flap shut behind him.

 

V secured the flap before making his way to the hatch leading down into the basket. He couldn't go down there. He couldn't stay in the balloon. Cells held the hydrogen, but any spark would blow up in his face.

 

V placed a couple of charges against the cells farthest from the hatch. That might be useful as a bargaining chip if he needed it later.

 

V pondered his next move as the flying craft headed toward the South Pole. Headquarters roughly knew where he was. He doubted the staff would be able to get help to him in time. He needed to think of something, but until then he needed to wait until they reached their destination.

 

He wondered if Doc Shadow and his helpers were close enough to lend a hand. That might be his only hope in this situation.

 

V settled in a spot concealed from casual observation from the hatch by repair crew.

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

26

 

 

"I think we have paydirt, Doc." The Comic pointed. "It looks like a cargo ship with a ram pulled into that bay down there."

 

"I see it." Doc Shadow started down. "We'll make sure with a flyby."

 

The Comic pressed the intercom button to talk to the cargo cabin behind the cockpit.

 

"We have a ship downstairs. We're going in for a closer look. Grab something to hold."

 

"Check the name on the bow as we pass." Doc tipped the plane to give the Comic a good look. "We'll look for anyone crossing the ice beyond."

 

"Got it." The Comic looked through the glasses as the plane flew by the surprised sailors. "Uh-oh."

 

"What's going on?" Doc tipped the plane level as he started his climb.

 

"They have a deck gun." The Comic opened his window and stuck his head out as far as it would go before pulling back in. "Some of them are getting ready to fire it from the looks of things."

 

"I'll try to climb out of range." Doc pulled back on the yoke. "We can't afford to be shot down."

 

"We're about to have problems, guys." The Comic hoped the others in the back couldn't tell how afraid he was over the internal phone.

 

Explosions rocked the plane. Doc fought to keep control. So far everything seemed to be working right. Shrapnel could wreck the wings, tail assembly, and flaps without actually blowing up the plane. They would just crash because the controls stopped working.

 

"We're opening the back door." Haven sounded more than a little scared. "Try to hold us steady."

 

Doc kept the plane in a steady climb while trying to keep the wings level. Clouds of antiaircraft fire surrounded their sea duck. The window on the Comic's side cracked from a piece of metal stabbing it like a dagger.

 

"What are they doing back there?" The Comic turned to look over his shoulder. The cockpit door cut off his vision.

 

"Draining the batteries." Doc tapped his control board.

 

The sound of thunder filled the plane. The Comic and Doc both winced from the boom. A larger explosion echoed the first a few seconds later. The air cleared of the gray smoke of death.

 

"Take us back around." Haven sounded surprised over the intercom. "We want to assess the damage."

 

"Tell him to make the next one count if he does that again." Doc banked to the right. "The electrical system might blow a fuse."

 

"Got it." Haven cut the connection.

 

The Comic whistled as the flying boat turned in a circle. The center of the ice breaker had turned to an expanding column of smoke. One end listed into the cold ocean. Sailors tried to lower life boats to get to land.

 

He didn't know what they could do to survive the cold wasteland.

 

"Pattern Ghost stopped them." Doc turned the plane back on course.

 

"I didn't think that pop gun of his could do that much." Comic scratched the exposed back of his head.

 

"He must have hit stored shells." Doc pictured the boat when it was whole. He overlaid the new boat sinking to the bottom. "The explosion would have taken out several inner bulkheads. Bad luck would have caused an outer bulkhead to rupture."

 

"What do we do about the sailors?" The Comic leaned back in his chair.

 

"Nothing." Doc pulled back on the yoke.

 

"I can't say that I disagree." The Comic marveled at the cold bloodedness of the decision.

 

"We can't stop to give aid, we can't take them with us, we can't do anything for them except radio for help." Doc's face hardened from the options they did have. "A German boat might pick them up, but we don't know that."

 

"So we call for help anyway?" The Comic smiled under his grinning mask.

 

"I don't kill people if I can avoid it." Doc fiddled with the radio. He sent a message in the clear for anyone to hear it. "The rest is in fortune's hands now."

 

"That's better than a slow death." The Comic looked ahead of them. The frozen expanse glittered in front of them like a white desert. "What do we do about Fancy Dan? I figure he already took off for the treasure."

 

"We look at the air courses Dr. Walkur plotted out." Doc checked his memory for the courses he needed, decided on the most likely, and banked the plane onto it. "And we pick one."

 

"So you think we can catch him?" The Comic examined the ground for vehicles capable of cutting across the snowy waste.

 

Doc listened to the radio as they flew south, fiddling with the dials. He frowned at the static. Antarctica was an unknown land. No one had set up their weather stations and territories there yet. Still he expected some kind of radio traffic.

 

There should be someone acknowledging the call for help even if they were out of range.

 

They might have doomed those sailors to a frozen death.

 

"How long until we reach the mountains?" The Comic turned his gaze front. The ground seemed calm, and retained tracks. He hadn't seen any which meant their enemies were traveling overland by air like they were.

 

"A few hours maybe." Doc wiped an eye with the back of his hand. "If you want to get some sleep, I suppose Dr. Walkur, Tim, or Pattern Ghost will be glad to come up."

 

"I'm fine." The Comic leaned back in his chair. "I tell you one thing. I'll be glad when this is over. All this traveling is for the birds."

 

Doc said nothing. His reputation was based on his traveling the world. He had circumnavigated the world more times than the US Navy.

 

"We'll catch up to them before we run out of fuel." Doc checked the gas tank. "Getting back might require taking whatever they are flying."

 

"That's good to know." The Comic laughed softly. "It means we can't turn Pattern Ghost loose on them."

 

The plane flew on as the heroes searched for their quarry in the gray sky. The barren wasteland shrouded everything. Then a spot of color revealed itself in the distance.

 

"I think we're finally catching up to them." The Comic raised his glasses to his eyes. "That looks like a balloon to me."

 

"I agree." Doc banked to the left. "Hopefully they don't have anyone looking behind them."

 

"We'll know soon enough." The Comic lowered his glasses. "One of those flying lizards will show up."

 

"Tell Pattern Ghost to get ready." Doc kept the plane above what he considered the sightline.

 

"I hope he doesn't have to shoot the balloon." The Comic reached for the intercom button. "That thing will go up like a bomb."

 

"Hey guys, we're right behind the bad guys." The Comic put the glasses in a bag strapped to his chair. "Get ready for problems."

[Yansuf]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

26

 

Doc listened to the radio as they flew north, fiddling with the dials. He frowned at the static. Antarctica was an unknown land. No one had set up their weather stations and territories there yet. Still he expected some kind of radio traffic.

 

 

Shouldn't they be flying south?

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

Shouldn't they be flying south?

 

you're right, yansuf. Thanks for catching that.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

27

 

Doc Shadow traced the air ship as carefully as he could. His flying boat was faster and required more room to maneuver. And eventually they would have to land if they wanted to deal with the Englishman.

 

The air ship could hover in place, drop anchor, and climb and drop vertically faster than a plane.

 

And Doc didn't see any landing strips for the boat.

 

"How do you want to do this?" The Comic arched his neck to watch the ground below them. "I don't see a place to set down."

 

"We'll think of something." Doc echoed the air ship as best he could, keeping the engines from stalling with his skill. "We need to know where they're going."

 

"It looks like they're heading into a canyon." The Comic looked on the wasteland. "Can you bring us around?"

 

Doc banked the plane in a wide circle. He didn't want the enemy to see or hear his plane, and he wasn't sure how good either sense worked at the distances he was trying to maintain over the winter wonderland.

 

"They're going into the canyon. It looks like they are landing." The Comic looked around. "I still don't see a place to land."

 

"I do." Doc circled again. "We'll have to climb down to catch up with them."

 

Doc aimed for a slope that looked reasonably clear. He brought the plane down on the slope, heading up to slow down the speed. He braked to a stop with the plane pointing up forty-five degrees. He taxied the plane to point down the slope for a fast getaway.

 

"We'll need an anchor in case the wheels slip." Doc hit the intercom. "Pattern Ghost, drop the cargo door."

 

"Will that hold the plane in place?" The Comic unstrapped and headed for the back of the plane.

 

"No." Doc made sure everything was ready for take off with the brakes engaged. The plane was more likely to slide down the slope but at least the wheels wouldn't help it.

 

Doc headed for the back. His thoughts were on an anchor and how to get down to where the soldiers planned to excavate.

 

Doc found the others gearing up. He went to a locker and secured ropes, spikes, and harnesses. Some of it would be used to climb down. Some could be used for his anchors. It depended on a great deal of luck and the pull of gravity.

 

Just because he had the plane tied down doesn't mean it wouldn't snap the ropes and plunge down the side of the mountain.

 

"We'll anchor the plane first." Doc parceled out the supplies. "Then we'll lower Pattern Ghost down to secure a line for the rest of us to climb down."

 

"Sounds easy." The Comic produced his mallet. "It can't be that easy."

 

"It never is." Doc went quietly to the lowered cargo door. "Be careful until we have the plane tied down."

 

The Comic jumped down from the plane, carrying the spikes with him. He found spots up the slope clear of the tail to drive the metal safety rods into the rock. Melting snow showed him where the Pattern Ghost stood.

 

"Hold on." The voice drifted above melting snow that ran away in streams of water.

 

"Thanks." The Comic started driving spikes into the ground with his mallet. "How does that work?"

 

"Something about vibrations." Pattern Ghost sounded like he shrugged. "I never figured that out."

 

"It's working." The Comic drove the last spike. "That's all that matters."

 

"Here's ropes." Tim dropped the ends at the Comic's feet. "We got the other ends tied to the plane."

 

"Let's tie these down." The Comic and Pattern Ghost ran the ropes through the rings at the top of the spikes. Knots secured the plane.

 

"Let's get ready to drop Pattern Ghost over the side." The Comic headed for the edge of the cliff.

 

"Let's tie the rope down first." Pattern Ghost left steps as he followed.

 

"That takes all the fun out of it." The Comic pointed to where he could vibrate snow away for an anchor.

 

"Don't worry about a harness over your suit." Doc worked out a noose to tie over Pattern Ghost's suit. "We'll drop you down, then lower everyone else down once you have the rope secured."

 

"Got it." Pattern Ghost turned his suit off to make tying the rope around him easier. Then he powered up again with a buzz. "I'll pull the rope in case of trouble."

 

Doc let the slack out of the rope as the end started down on its own. The Comic and Dr. Walkur watched the bottom of the canyon. They didn't know what they could do from the top of the gorge. The Comic's explosives wouldn't reach the bottom before they blew.

 

Pattern Ghost was on his own.

 

"Ghost Angel could help us." Tim shuffled his feet, holding his hat on his head.

 

"But would he?" Doc let out the rest of the rope, walking forward to let the strand slowly rest on the ground without rubbing.

 

"I think so." Tim shrugged. "Maybe."

 

"We'll hold him back for backup." Doc didn't mention the thought the Ghost Angel would take off and try to stop everyone on his own.

 

"After you, Haven." The Comic made a sweep of his arm.

 

"That's Dr. Walkur to you." Haven secured a harness and started down the wall.

 

"Mr. Daschle to you." Tim got in the line ahead of the Comic. "I like that."

 

"Don't push me, kid." The Comic shook his head. "I can still throw you over."

 

"Let's go." Doc Shadow grabbed Tim and started down the wall with bounding leaps. It happened so fast Tim didn't have time to scream before they touched down.

 

"Pattern Ghost went ahead." Haven pulled Tim to a niche for cover. "The blimp is tied down just ahead."

 

"One of us will have to secure it so we can block escape." Doc Shadow stepped out of the way for the Comic to descend. "The rest will have to try and stop the soldiers from securing the prize."

 

"Pattern Ghost is going to make sure that the crew is off." Haven held her pistol in hand. They had applied oil to it to keep the metal from freezing in the harsh cold.

 

"I'm here." The Comic landed at the end of the rope. "Which way do we go?"

 

"We hold here for a moment." Doc had his own pistol out. He had sleep gas loaded, with a clip of explosives to follow up.

 

"I can do that." The Comic spun his hammer in one hand.

 

"They split up." Pattern Ghost's voice appeared out of nowhere. "The Englishman, his butler, and the leader of the Germans went into a cave in the wall. They took a small force with them. The rest seem to be holding around the anchors for the blimp."

 

"I'll take Tim and the cave." Doc opened his coat and checked his vest. "You guys take the ground crew and the zeppelin."

 

"Give us the easy job." The Comic spun his hammer again.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Into the Past With Strangers

 

TURN THE PAGE! TURN THE PAGE! I CAN'T STAND THE TENSION!

 

You have a definite knack for building up and maintaining the suspense, csyphrett. Props to you .