#9
September 2001

Guest starring

World's Finest: Part III
by Bob Young
PG
Everyone in the factory would be dead within minutes! The Demon poison was doing it's work. Even the Shadow and Doc Savage were suffering the effects of the toxic gas. The Shadow was trying to drag Margo Lane to the door but his strength had left him. Margo was unconscious, as was Patricia Savage, Doc Savage's sister. As for Doc Savage, he was straining to struggle to his feet.

Doc Savage had never been a normal man. From childhood, his strength and his intellect were abnormally high. Even now, in his forties, he was capable of bending steel with his bare hands. He was superhuman. And so, with great effort, he was able to fight off the effects of the gas - at least for a short while. He grabbed the two women and dragged them outside, into the fresh air. Taking a deep breath to invigorate himself, he went back in and carried the Shadow out. He went back in again to try and rescue some of the henchmen who were still inside. But before he could pull any of them out, his efforts became too much for him. All the exposure to the Demon gas had taken a cumulative effect. Savage past out, and hit the ground with a thud.

Outside, the Shadow had regained his senses and looked inside to see what was happening. He saw that Savage was in danger. He had no choice but to go in and try to rescue the Man of Bronze. The Shadow tightened his scarf around his mouth, took a deep breath and ran back into the factory. He grabbed Savage's wrist to try to drag him. Doc Savage weighed a ton. Six-foot-six of solid muscle. But the Shadow would not leave him behind. He dragged Savage a few feet. The Shadow ran back outside to get another breath of fresh air. He rushed back into the factory and dragged Savage the rest of the way. Once outside, the Shadow shut the door. Unlike Savage, the Shadow didn't care about the thugs who were trapped inside. They brought their fate on themselves by joining forces with Lady Coffin and the Thinker.

The Shadow felt dizzy from the Demon gas. He collapsed to the ground, semi-conscious. Next to him, Margo Lane had woken up. She saw the Shadow laying next to her. This was her chance! Finally, she could find out who the Shadow is. She pulled the scarf down under his chin and got a good look at his face. It looked familiar. It was different somehow, harder and more angular, but it was unmistakably the man she had come to know as the playboy named Cranston.

"Lamont!" she muttered, in shock. "Good God! Lamont Cranston is the Shadow!"

She pulled the Shadow's scarf back over his mouth. The Shadow managed to get his thoughts together and sat up. He saw Margo awake and alert. Also, Pat Savage was coughing and trying to sit upright. Then he turned his attention to Doc Savage.

"Is he all right?" Pat asked, very concerned.

"He has been exposed to much more gas than we have," the Shadow said. "Enough to kill a normal man. Unfortunately, he's the doctor, not I. All we can do is to get him to a hospital."

The police were called. By the time they arrived, the Shadow was gone. Margo Lane and Pat Savage told the story of what had happened in the factory with the Thinker, but left out the Shadow's involvement. Doc Savage was taken to the hospital. The Shadow watched all this from in hiding across the street until the familiar cab and it's faithful driver pulled up. The Shadow slipped inside.

"Take me home, Moe," the Shadow said, "I need a rest!"

The Thinker had fled to Lady Coffin's apartment. She was not happy when she came out of the shower and saw him standing in her living room.

"You idiot, how dare you come here!" she yelled.

"I'm working for you, Lady Coffin, but don't ever call me an idiot!" the Thinker snapped, sternly.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded to know.

"The Shadow and Doc Savage busted up the factory," he said. "But I took care of them. They won't be bothering us anymore." He smiled proudly.

"Oh really," she said, "Then can you explain why I just heard on the radio that Doc Savage has been taken to Coney Island Hospital. Alive! And no one found the body of the Shadow. In fact there was no mention of him at all. He must have gotten away. You failed! Are you sure I shouldn't call you an idiot?"

The Thinker scowled. "All right, maybe I didn't kill them, but I got Savage out of the way. And better still, look over here." He pointed to a canister in the corner. "I've got a full canister of the Demon gas! It's ready to be used! And in time for Project M's arrival in New York."

Lady Coffin held back a smile. "In that case I'll overlook your error. We still have one more test to do with the Demon poison. We know the airborne gas works indoors. But we still have to see if it will work in a wide open, outdoor area."

"I'll handle that," the Thinker said. "I've got a plan that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt whether or not Demon is lethal in an open air environment. And here . . . " The Thinker handed a paper with a formula to Lady Coffin. " . . . Take this. If the Demon gas works as well as I expect, you can use that formula to make more."

Lady Coffin smiled. "And then we can use it when Project M arrives. It'll be all ours!"

"I'll need a new place to stay now that the factory has been exposed," the Thinker said.

Lady Coffin writes down an address. "My company VP is on vacation for three weeks. Stay in his apartment. And don't let anyone see you. And oh yes, one more thing. Doc Savage is in the hospital. See that he doesn't get out!"

The Thinker grinned and slipped away, taking his canister of poison with him. Lady Coffin relaxed on her sofa, looking at the formula. She nodded with satisfaction. "Soon."

Lamont Cranston was in his estate, applying a poultice to his bruised knuckles. He thought about the Bronx clinic which Savage had mentioned earlier. He made a phone call.

"Hello?" said the voice of one of the Shadow's most capable agents, Harry Vincent.

Cranston switched to his Shadow voice. "The sun is shining."

"But the ice is slippery," Harry responded.

"Vincent. It is I," the Shadow said. "You are to go to the Goodheart Medical Clinic, in the Bronx. I believe that they are involved in the sale of the drug Demon. I want you to investigate. Get me some evidence, Vincent!"

"You got it, Boss!" Harry Vincent replied.

Cranston hung up. He was planning to go to the hospital to see how Savage was, when someone rang the door bell. At this hour?

He was surprised to find Margo Lane at his doorstep.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," he said. "Insomnia?"

Margo looked at the poultice on his hand. It made sense. He'd been in a fight as the Shadow, and now his knuckles were bruised. That was the final proof Margo needed. She had begun to doubt that the face she had seen was really Lamont. But the damaged knuckles were enough to convince her.

"I'm sorry to come by so late," she said. "I just wanted to say . . . Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

She smiled. "You know."

Margo winked and walked away. She took back at Lamont with the sexiest smile she had ever given him and vanished into the night.

Lamont was confused, then worried. Did she know? And then the idea of her knowing became somehow . . . exciting.

Most of the following day, Harry Vincent observed the Bronx clinic. Hours passed and he didn't see anything unusual. He was dreading the thought of having to tell the Shadow that he hadn't found out anything. Late in the afternoon, he saw one of the med-techs carry a case out of the clinic and into a car. Running out of possible avenues of investigation, Harry decided to follow the man.

The man drove to a less respectable area of the Bronx and met with some men in suits. Harry recognized one of them as a Maggia soldier. So that was it! The clinic was selling drugs to the Maggia, who distributed them. Harry snapped some pictures with a camera he had brought with him.

The next evening, Lamont Cranston - as the Shadow - met with Harry Vincent, who handed him the pictures he took.

"Good work, Vincent. The Shadow is pleased. You may go."

Detective Pierce was at his desk in the precinct filling out a report, when he got a package. He opened it up. Inside were the pictures of the med-tech selling drugs to the Maggia. Along with the pictures was a note, saying ‘The Goodheart Medical Clinic in the Bronx is in the business of drug dealing. Signed, a Friend.'

"Holy Jesus!" Pierce yelped.

"What's the problem?" his partner, Detective Van Ness, asked.

"Take a look at this!" Pierce said, handing the pictures and the note to Van Ness.

Lamont Cranston was getting ready to visit Doc Savage at the hospital when he heard on the radio that the police, led by Detectives Pierce and Van Ness, raided the Goodheart Medical Clinic in the Bronx, and found that the clinic was in possession of large quantities of the illegal drug "Demon."

Lamont smiled. "Well done, Harry."

Evening came, and Lamont Cranston arrived at Coney Island Hospital, where Doc Savage was a patient. He entered and found that the police were guarding him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cranston," one uniformed officer said, "but no one is allowed to see Dr. Savage. His sister is afraid that this ‘Thinker' guy who poisoned him might come back after him again and she asked us to keep a twenty-four hour watch on him till he's on his feet. Since this is Doc Savage we're talking about, and we all admire him, we were glad to do it. He's a great guy."

"Yes. Yes he is," Lamont said. "I'm glad you're all taking such good care of him. I'll pay my respects some other time. Good day."

As Lamont walked out of the hospital, he saw the large, black car go by. He had seen it before. It was circling the block. Inside were four men, all dressed in black suits. Cranston considered the evidence. With Doc Savage in the hospital, easy prey for predators, it made sense that the Thinker and Lady Coffin would try to pick him off. But the Thinker would be busy fixing his damaged Thinking Cap, and plotting . . . Whatever it was they were plotting. So they would send someone else to kill Savage. The Maggia were connected with Lady Coffin and the Thinker. And the Maggia must be very angry that someone squealed on their clinic operation in the Bronx. Savage and the Shadow would be the likely ones for them to blame. If the Maggia were circling the hospital where Savage was recovering, their intentions were not good!

Cranston went back to his car, where his "working clothes" were hidden.

Doc Savage was asleep in his private room. Outside, two cops guarded the door. The four Maggia men past the room, pretending to pay no notice to Savage or the cops. But suddenly they turned on the cops, with knives, and stabbed them before they could defend themselves. They dragged the cops out of sight and turned their attention to Savage. They approached him, holding their knives menacingly in front of them.

"You will not touch that great man!" a spooky voice said.

The men turned around. No one there. But the Shadow was there. He had just clouded their minds so that they couldn't see him. And they couldn't see the tire iron he was carrying. But they felt it! They felt it hard!

The Shadow looked down at the beaten Maggia thugs. "I should kill you. But this time I'll do it his way. In his honor, you shall continue your undeserving lives."

The Shadow looked over and saw that Doc Savage's eyes were open. He smiled at the Shadow. "There's hope for you yet, Shadow."

"Good to see that you are feeling better," the Shadow said. "Summon the doctors. There are two wounded policemen here. I must go."

The Shadow vanished, taking one of the Maggia men with him. Savage pressed the call button, and dragged himself out of bed to see to the injured cops. A minute later, a nurse came in and gasped at the sight of the stabbed officers. She quickly summoned a doctor. The doctor rushed in and saw Savage examining two bleeding men.

"We have two knife wounds here," Doc Savage said. "One of them is in stable condition, with a wound to the upper right thorax near the collarbone. The other is more serious. He's got a 100% pneumothorak on the right side, so you're going to have to get him on a ventilator, STAT! Start an IV. Two liters of lacerated ringers over the next twenty minutes. Type and cross for six units of whole blood. Prep him for surgery immediately!"

Savage's reputation and mastery of the situation reduced the doctor to obedience.

"Yes, Doctor Savage," he said, rushing off to obey Savage's orders.

The Shadow spent hours questioning the Maggia hood. Through intimidation and the hypnotic power of his ring, the hood broke. He said that Lady Coffin's had asked the Maggia bosses to eliminate Savage before he could interfere in what they had planned at a parade that was coming through New York in the morning. The Hood didn't know any more. The Shadow then beat him up badly, but let him live. He wasn't sure why. He should have killed the bastard. He wondered if he was hanging around with Savage too much.
Lady Coffin was listening to the radio. The announcer was reminding people in the east side of Manhattan that streets will be blocked off from noon to one p.m. for a military convoy that will be passing through the city on it's way to Fort Hamilton military base. Lady Coffin had a shiver of excitement. Project M is almost here! And soon, it will be mine!

The only thing that remained to do was to wait for the Thinker to test the Demon gas outdoors, on a large group of people. She knew he would do it in a way that was . . . Very ostentatious. She couldn't wait to see it.

The next morning, Doc Savage was sitting up in bed. He was feeling much better. His incredible stamina had allowed him to recuperate from near death with amazing speed. He noticed something at his side. It was the Shadow again.

"Do you know anything about a parade coming through New York?" the Shadow asked.

"Yes, the ‘Support the War' Parade. I was asked to be in it," Savage said. "Why?"

"Lady Coffin's plan has something to do with it," the Shadow responded.

The two men thought for a minute. "If they've been testing their gas . . . " Savage began.

The Shadow picked up on the thought. "Maybe they intend to test the drug on a crowd!"

Savage got up out of bed.

"You are not well," the Shadow said.

"I'm well enough. I'm not laying here while hundreds of people die!"

The ‘Support the War' parade was purely a propaganda move. It was a way to get the patriotic spirit stirring. Generals, politicians and celebrities rolled down Broadway, in New York, on floats, cars, jeeps, and trucks, waving at the large crowd who was there to show support for the American troops in Europe. Captain America had also been asked to appear but had to cancel.

The Thinker sat in a parked car on a side street, watching the parade, waiting for the moment that the test would begin. He looked at his watch. Any minute now.

As the parade float reached Times Square, they started a device that would shoot fireworks into the air. However, much to their surprise, no fireworks came out. Instead, small projectiles popped out. As they flew over the crowd they exploded and produced white, gaseous clouds. The clouds floated down over the people.

The Thinker smiled and put on a gas mask. Now to just watch the fun.

People started to gasp and cough. Dozens of people collapsed, choking from the poison. The Thinker smiled at his success. The Demon gas was working perfectly. And if it worked here, it would work on the convoy carrying Project M.

He drove off, leaving hundreds of victims behind to die!

Concluded next issue! Can the Shadow and Doc Savage save the crowd from the Demon gas? And the showdown between our two heroes and the evil duo of Lady Coffin and the Thinker comes at last! Finally, will we ever learn what Project M is? It's all in World's Finest part four!