DC Maximum Security Penitentiary . . .
Wolf Dietrict was in the second year of a ten-year stretch. Possessed of unusual brute strength, he was recruited by the leaders of the American Nazi party - of which he was once a member - to become the Blue Bullet. Encased in a suit of flying armor, he attempted a futile attack on the Justice Society. After being captured by the Sentinel, he was sentenced to a decade in prison.
Ever since then, he has waited for a chance to escape, and filled the time by working out. Using his gym privileges, he exercised constantly, honing his prodigious strength to greater levels. He was a spectacular physical specimen.
There was one other thing that kept Wolf's mind occupied during his years of incarceration. He thought about her. He thought about the Phantom Lady. She was the first masked heroine who appeared in the 1930s. She pre-dated Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, and the Black Canary. Phantom Lady appeared soon after Sentinel and Flash, those fathers of the Golden Age of superheroes. Wolf felt that this made Phantom Lady the mother of the age of heroes. Wonder Woman usually received that acolyte, but Phantom Lady was first. And, Wolf noted, the sexiest!
The wall of his cell was covered with pictures of Phantom Lady, clipped from newspapers and magazines. He even had a tattoo of her on his arm. She was his inspiration and obsession. The reason he let the Nazis talk him into becoming the Blue Bullet was to impress her.
Wolf was determined to get out of jail and meet the object of his lust. I'm coming, toots, he thought. I'll be seeing you soon. You and me were meant for each other!
Brooklyn, NY:
On the waterfront of Redhook, the dock was blanketed with fog. The area was as quiet as a grave, except for the occasional foghorn, and the waves lapping against the pier. Otherwise, there was no sign of life, except for a single lighted window in an old warehouse. Behind the dirty window, harsh voices were heard.
Nearby, a car pulled up, and a dark figure stepped out. He headed directly toward the lighted window and listened to the voices, like a hawk listening for a small prey to move through the woods. He was a predator. They were his prey!
Inside . . .
A thin man with a bow tie, who looked like a butler, was surrounded by a gang of hoods. "Well, dish the dirt, Poindexter!" one of the thugs said.
"Give me the cash, and I'll give you the info," the bow tie man said.
"We oughtta give ya a belly full of slugs," one thug said. "But here! Here's the dough. Now spill!"
The little man with the bow tie handed the piece of paper to one of the thugs. The hood started to read the paper but stopped when he heard it! The laugh! That icy, unholy laugh that was the hallmark of the dark angel of justice.
"Who's that?" the little man asked. "That laugh . . . It's scary!"
"Only one guys got a laugh like that!" one hood said. "It's the Shadow!"
The Shadow appeared out of the shadows, like a ghost in the night. "Good guess, low life," the Shadow said. "I'll trouble you for that scrap of paper! I won't ask nicely again!"
"Gun him down!" one hood yelled.
They opened fire on the vigilante, but before the gunmen could find their mark, the Shadow was gone. Gone, only to reappear in another corner of the room, a fistful of roaring metal justice in either hand. He blasted away at the thugs. The hoodlums panicked and scattered around the room. Some were wounded and others fled the room, like bats out of Hell. They wanted no part of the Shadow.
The little man with the bow tie shrunk into the corner, terrified. When the shooting stopped, none of the remaining thugs were standing, and the Shadow was no where to be seen. The little man sprinted for the door. However, an iron rip on his shoulder halted his progress. He was yanked back and spun around. He looked into the eyes of a being he thought must be a demon from the Netherworld.
"You chose the wrong friends," the Shadow said. "And your petty ambitions will cost you!"
The Shadow slammed the little man into a wall. The man crumbled and collapsed, unconscious. The Shadow picked up the piece of paper from the limp fingers of the lead gangster. Without a second thought for the slain criminals, the Shadow departed.
Outside, he emerged from the fog and stepped into the waiting taxi. Inside the cab were Shrevvy the driver and the lovely Margo Lane.
"I heard shots, boss," Shrevvy said. "Any trouble?"
"Just the usual," the Shadow answered.
"Did you get what you came for?" Margo asked.
The Shadow handed her the piece of paper. She looked it over. "It looks like a map to a house, a mansion," Margo observed.
"And the combination to a safe," the Shadow said.
"So, the Benetti gang has been getting inside information, have they?" she said. "The butler did it."
The Shadow nodded. "This is one house they won't be robbing. I'll have Harry Vincent and some of my other agents waiting there just in case, but I doubt they'll try to ransack this place without the information on this paper."
"This doesn't help you get any closer to Bobo Benetti himself," she said. "Any idea how to find him?"
"Two possibilities," the Shadow said. "One is that we cruise the places where the rich and famous dwell, and the other is to send someone to Bucket's Bar."
"Why there?" Shrevvy asked.
"I looked in the car belonging to those slime-bags," the Shadow said. "Lots of matchbooks from Buckets. It isn't unusual for crime bosses to recruit from there. Someone there may know something."
"Where to now, boss?" Shrevvy asked.
"The Cobalt Club."
An hour later, in mid-town Manhattan . . .
Outside the swank Cobalt Club on Eighth Avenue, dapper millionaire Lamont Cranston stepped from a cab, accompanied by his stunning paramour Margo Lane. They entered the club, and after a few minutes of mingling, Cranston excused himself and went to a private phone booth. He called a number not listed in any directory. Somewhere, in a hidden location, a husky voice answered. "This is Burbank."
"It is I," the Shadow said. "Contact Harry Vincent. Have him go to Buckets Bar and see what he can learn about the Benetti gang. Then, he is to take some men and do a security recon at Astor Manor."
Burbank acknowledged the order and relayed the command to Harry Vincent. Meanwhile, Lamont Cranston rejoined Margo.
"So, what are we looking for?" Margo asked.
"Just listen," Lamont said. "We need to determine which will be the next big social soiree of the season. And who are the richest targets? I need to figure out who the next target of the Benetti gang will be, so I can be there to stop them."
Harry Vincent, the Shadow's best agent, spent a few hours mingling among the decedent wanna-be gangsters in Buckets bar. For a while, it didn't seem like he would learn anything. But then he heard something interesting. He slipped away to get a message to the Burbank, who could alert the Shadow.
Later that night, Cranston checked in with Burbank, to see if Vincent had phoned. He had. Vincent had learned that a man who works in a cleaning service, and who visits many rich abodes, had a drug problem and was buying his narcotics from members of the Benetti gang.
The Shadow nodded. Drug addicts were easy to control. Their weakness made them perfect targets to recruit as Trojan Horses. Harry had followed him to a spot near the West Side Highway where drug drop offs were common. It was very close to where Cranston was. He could be there in minutes. With luck, he would catch the cleaner and the Benetti boys all together and force some information out of them.
He whispered to Margo before he left. "I have to step out. I'll be back soon."
"Anything I can do?" Margo asked.
"Just keep listening," Cranston said, and exited.
Soon, Margo was invited to a big yacht party on the East Side. She suspected that this might be the one that Lamont was looking for. She left word with the steward to tell Lamont where she went, and then she headed for the yacht.
At the Yacht, Margo met an old friend of hers. Sandra Knight was the most beautiful of the eligible socialites in New York Society. She was constantly surrounded by a swarm of admirers. Best known for her buxom beauty, the sexy socialite was frequently the center of attention at any party she attended.
Sandra sat with Margo, and the two women caught up on events.
"So, you and Lamont have become quite the item lately," Sandra said. "Wedding bells?"
"Stop with the tough questions," Margo said. "What about you? Anyone?"
"No strings to hold me down," she said. "I'm fancy free. Say, remember Eric?"
Margo nodded, sipping her drink.
"He's writing another of those plays of his," Sandra said. "I'm shopping for a new dress tomorrow for the premiere party after the show. Want to make an afternoon of it?"
"You say you're going to the party after the show?" Margo asked. "Aren't you going to the show?"
"Heavens no," Sandra said. "His plays are dreadful. Its always those 'plight of the common worker' type of pretentious pieces. He's got nerve writing that stuff, considering he's never done a days work in his pampered life."
"I always thought he had a way with words," Margo said.
"So does Hitler," Sandra countered, while applying lipstick.
"Touché."
Just then, the party was interrupted by a masked gang of intruders. They wore black suits and domino masks. "We weren't invited, so we crashed," one of them said.
"The Benetti gang!" Margo whispered under her breath. "I was right," she hoped that Lamont would get her message and come in time to stop the robbery. Margo looked over at Sandra, but surprisingly, Sandra was gone.
She didn't realize that the beautiful Sandra Knight had slipped into a dumbwaiter during the commotion and lowered herself down to another level. The area was deserted. She reached into her purse and pulled out her skimpy costume . . . What little there was of it.
Back upstairs, the Benetti's were ransacking the rich guests and cleaning out the safe with a combination they had obviously been given previously. They seemed to know where everything would be. Margo realized that they were again supplied with inside information.
But something they didn't expect happened. Another unscheduled arrival disrupted their exit.
A gorgeous, buxom woman with raven hair appeared. She wore a costume that resembled a bathing suit, but with an open halter front, to reveal her ample cleavage. She also wore goggles, a green cape and a bracelet.
"Don't leave so soon, boys. Let's have our own party," the Phantom Lady said.
The robbers were momentarily stopped by her appearance. Whether it was due to the unexpected arrival of a super-heroine, or her revealing outfit, the men hesitated, transfixed. She smiled. This would be easy.
"Now you see me . . . " she began, as she touched her bracelet. A black light was emitted, and it cloaked the Phantom Lady in a shroud of darkness. " . . . Now you don't."
"Shoot the tramp, where ever she is!" one of the gunmen yelled.
"How rude!" the heroine snapped, insulted.
She attacked the confused thugs, with karate kicks and smashed them over the head with whichever blunt object she could get her hands on. She disabled four of the five criminals, but the last one escaped, albeit without his ill-gotten gain.
"Party's over, boys," the Phantom Lady said, reappearing. "Tramp indeed!"
Soon, the police were called and everyone thanked the Phantom Lady, especially the men. Margo eyed the curvaceous masked woman knowingly. She had figured out who the Shadow was, and this was a much easier puzzle. "Sandra," she whispered.
The Phantom Lady soon took her leave, much to the dismay of the males present. Not long after, Lamont Cranston arrived. He had received Margo's message and donned his Shadow guise to come to the rescue. But once he got there, he found that the Phantom Lady had already saved the day. This wasn't necessarily the best news that the Shadow could have heard. True, she foiled the robbery, but by capturing the gunmen and turning them over to the police, she inadvertently ruined the Shadow's chance to beat some information out of them.
Returning to his identity as Lamont Cranston, he met with Margo, who gave him the lowdown on the incident. "And by the way, I know who the Phantom Lady is."
The next day, back at the prison . . .
Wolf Dietrict sat in the office of the prison psychiatrist, Dr. Murky. "When did you begin fantasizing about the Phantom Lady, Wolf?" Murky asked.
"This isn't a fantasy, doc," Wolf said. "This is the real McCoy."
"I'll rephrase that," Murky said. "When did you become so . . . interested in Phantom Lady?"
"A few years ago," Wolf said. "A couple months after she made the scene. She was the first masked dame, ya know. She was kickin' butt before that Amazon came along."
"Yes, but let's try to focus on your obsession. Have you ever spoken to the Phantom Lady?"
"Nah."
"So you've never actually communicated with her in any way?"
"We shared a look!" Wolf answered, proudly.
"Tell me about that," Murky said.
"She was keeping company with that Sentinel guy," Wolf said. "They'd just rousted the Gambler and stopped to pose for some pictures for the press. I was in the crowd, watching. She caught my eye, and I could tell it was love at first sight for the both of us. She wanted me as much as I wanted her."
"And what happened then?"
"That Sentinel jerk whisked her away before I could get close," Wolf said. "I've been looking for her ever since, but I haven't been able to find her. I know she's been thinking of me, too. She's probably been looking for old Wolf."
"Why do you say that?" Murky asked.
"I saw that look."
"And what is it about Phantom Lady that attracts you?"
"You gotta ask?" Wolf laughed. "You ever see that costume she doesn't wear? And she's got those big, beautiful . . . "
"I see," Murky interjected. "And why do you think she's attracted to you?"
"Cause she's got taste," Wolf announced. "And she's the type who needs a real man. Like me!"
"And you became the Blue Bullet to impress her?"
"I knew she was friends with that Sentinel clown," Wolf said. "He's the one who carried her away from me. When my Aryan brothers gave me the suit, I saw a chance to get even with the clown, and also to show my Phantom Babe how tough I am."
"In retrospect, do you still think it was a good idea?" Murky asked.
"Nope," Wolf said. "It was stupid. She wants the real me. The man, not that metal suit. And she's gonna get the real me. Mark my words, doc. Soon, I'll get outta here, and when I do, she's gonna be mine!"
The Bay Riding Academy, near Coney Island . . .
Sandra Knight was enjoying her usual afternoon ride. To her surprise, Margo Lane cantered over on a horse of her own. "Hello, Sandra. You disappeared rather suddenly last night."
"I hid," Sandra lied. "I was scared. When the cops came, I slipped out. I hear the Phantom Lady showed."
"You should know . . . Phantom Lady!" Margo stated.
There was a minute of silence as the horses trotted along.
"So, what gave me away?" Sandra asked.
"I've always been jealous of your figure," Margo said. "And Phantom Lady has the same ample dimensions. You disappear, and an equally buxom girl with raven hair appears. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to piece this one together."
Sandra smiled. "So, my natural attributes gave me away, huh? Funny that it took a woman to figure it out."
"The men were probably thinking of something else," Margo suggested.
"They usually are," Sandra added. "So, now that you know . . . "
"I'm not going to give you away," Margo said. "I just came to ask you . . . "
"Why I do it?" Sandra interrupted. "Why do I do anything? For the attention! You know I love just attention. Why do you think I made my Phantom Lady costume so revealing?"
"Where'd you get that black light thing?"
"An inventor," she said. "Professor Davis."
"So you just decided to be a super heroine?" Margo asked.
"If you can call it that," Sandra countered. "I run around looking beautiful, and kick guys where it hurts. I'm not big time, like Wonder Woman or the Black Canary. But that's my choice. I don't spend a lot of time in costume. I have fun as Sandra Knight. When the need arises, I become Phantom Lady. But Sandra Knight comes first."
"The prettiest socialite in New York," Margo said. "You were also so damn gorgeous! I hate you!"
"That's probably been my undoing as far as being taken seriously," Sandra said. "I enjoy showing off my looks. I'm vain. I admit it. Besides, all the martial arts in the world can't disarm a man like a great pair of . . . weapons! You know, I'm the world's most popular pin-up girl, even ahead of Betty Grable and Black Canary. I'm proud of that, but it doesn't exactly make people think of me as a female Captain America."
"I suppose not," Margo said. "Still, I think most men would rather meet you. Anyway, I came to warn you about something. You've made an enemy of the Benetti gang. So be careful. Benetti isn't the forgiving type. Watch your back. There may be some men after you."
Sandra grinned a sexy grin. "If the people after me turn out to be men, they better watch out!"
Later, Margo returned to the cab. Shrevvy was behind the wheel and Lamont sat in the back seat.
"How'd it go?" Lamont asked.
"I warned her," Margo said. "I don't know how seriously she's taking it."
"Her potential as an operative?"
"Medium," Margo said. "She's got potential, but she's a bit flighty. She's in this for the fun of it. And she's not good at working in the shadows. She loves to be admired. Hence, the costume."
"Good work."
Margo looked down at the newspaper lying on the seat between them. There was a story of a jailbreak. A Nazi named Wolf Dietrict, formerly known as the Blue Bullet, had been busted out of prison. She didn't give it much thought at the time.
In a hidden room in the back of a Bensonhurst pool hall, Bobo Benetti sat behind a desk. This was the makeshift HQ he had been using for weeks, ever since he learned that the Shadow was after him. Bobo Benetti wasn't afraid of much, but the Shadow scared the life out of him. So he hid, and organized the robberies of rich families from this secret lair. He managed to get inside information on each of the houses from an employee. Therefore, his henchmen didn't have to waste time searching for hidden valuables. They could get in-and-out long before the police arrived, and more importantly, before the Shadow arrived.
He'd been trying to arrange protection against the Shadow. He had hired a group of the toughest, meanest and craziest thugs he could find. Wolf was the latest. Bobo hoped his formidable strength could be the key.
"So, you busted me out to take on the Shadow, huh?" Wolf said.
"Think you're up to it?" Bobo asked.
"I'm a man's man," Wolf said. "I've fought the JSA. I'm as strong as a Gorilla! The Shadow ain't nobody but a coward who hides in the dark, making sneak attacks. I can handle that punk!"
"See that you do," Bobo said. "I didn't bust you out of the slammer for the fun of it. Get the job done!"
Later that night, elsewhere in Brooklyn . . .
The Phantom Lady was in action. Earlier, Sandra Knight had been returning from her afternoon ride, and decided to do some shopping on 86th Street, when she caught sight of the one that got away. The fifth of the gunman who had tried to rob the yacht. He was strolling casually along 86th Street. She ordered her chauffeur to drop her off and to come back and pick her up later. She tailed the hood until he slipped into a pool hall in Bensonhurst. Ducking into the washroom of a diner, she climbed out the back window as the Phantom Lady.
She burst into the pool hall, adorned in her skimpy yellow outfit. The men in the pool hall ogled her cleavage and made some comments, the likes of which she was used to. She grinned. "I like the attention, boys, but I wonder if one of you big, strong, macho men can answer a question for me. Anybody here know where I can find Bobo Benetti?"
In the hidden back room . . .
Bobo heard the sound of a commotion. "What the . . . "
He looked through a peephole and saw the costumed girl battling some of the pool hustlers. "Which super floozy is this?" he wondered.
Wolf decided to take a look . . . and his heart skipped a beat! It was her! It was his dream girl, his fantasy, his obsession! It was the woman he had searched for, and loved for years! Finally, she was within his grasp.
"Sweetness, its you!" he cried, and rushed out of the hidden room and into the pool hall.
In the Pool Hall . . .
Most of the pool players had underestimated the Phantom Lady. Others thought wrestling with the voluptuous beauty was fun. She took advantage of their half-hearted efforts and put a hurting on some of the macho fools. After putting on a good show for a few minutes, her luck ran out.
One of the larger men managed to grab her from behind. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pinning the girl's slender arms to her sides. She couldn't break free, nor could she reach her bracelet.
He's got me! she thought fearfully. Can't get loose! I can't use my black light until I get my arms free! I'm in trouble!
The group of lusty, sweaty men moved in on the helpless heroine. "No, stay away from me!" she pleaded.
They ignored her and pressed in. One of them roughly grabbed her half-exposed bosom.
"No, don't!" she cried. "Please, stop! Let me go!"
At that moment, the large, muscular figure of Wolf Dietrict appeared. "Hey, fellas, that's my dame you're messing with!"
The other men objected . . . But not for long! Wolf cut loose with all his immense strength and pent-up aggression. He wanted to impress his precious Phantom Lady by being as dominate and aggressive as possible. He was like a Rhino ripping apart a bunch of bunnies.
Phantom Lady, free of the grip of her attacker, stood watching, more nervous than impressed at the sight of this massacre. This big man, whoever he was, hadn't come to play games. He was a mean customer!
After he finished mopping up the place with the pool players, he looked at the Phantom Lady. "Hiya cupcake," he said.
"Uh, hi there," she said. "Thanks for rescuing the damsel in distress. Umm, I don't want to be ungrateful, but wasn't this a little overkill?"
"Forget those losers," Wolf said. "We're finally together again. Miss me, sugarplum?"
"I'm sorry," she said. "But I have no idea who you are."
"I'm your knight in shining armor, toots," he said. "We've been apart for years. Let's not waste more time!"
"I'm a bit confused," she said. "I don't remember you at all."
"It's been a few years," he said. "But love never dies. It was after that Gambler thing with Sentinel. We made eyes, you and me."
"We definitely did not 'make eyes'," Phantom Lady countered. "You're confused."
"No I ain't, sugar lips," he said. "I never been so sure about anything. And I know you felt it too. We have a connection! "
"Look, fella, I . . . "
"It's Wolf, dumpling," he said. "The man in your life, from now on!"
"This is ridiculous!" she snapped. "I . . . "
She suddenly moved closer to her. "Gimme a kiss, gorgeous."
"I don't think so!" she snapped, trying to move away from him.
"Don't play hard to get," he said. "Gimme some sugar, darlin'. Pucker up!"
Leery of his obviously considerable strength, Phantom Lady reached for her bracelet, hoping to fade into the darkness and escape. But she was surprised by his speed. He grabbed her wrist. So powerful was his grip, that he damaged her bracelet and the black light cloaking effect. Phantom Lady was now weaponless. She barely had time to register this bit of bad news when Wolf pulled her to him. He squeezed her in his powerful arms. She tried to struggle, but his arms were like iron. He put a large hand on the back of her head and pushed her face toward his. He kissed her, and there was nothing she could do about it.
After he ended the lip lock, the Phantom Lady sneered at him. "Happy now? You've had your fun. You've groped me. You got a kiss off me. Now would you please mind releasing me!"
"Stop with the hard-to-get games, honey suckle," he said. "We're gonna be together forever. Come on! I'll take you somewhere we can be alone!"
With his prize in tow, he left the pool hall via a secret tunnel that Bobo had showed him. He dragged the Phantom Lady behind him, struggling in vain to get free. "Let me go!" she shouted, but he ignored her, lost in his fantasies.
He's too strong! she thought. Without my black light, I can't fight him! There's nothing I can do!
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, fearfully.
"We're off to a private paradise, baby," he said. "Just you and me!"
Phantom Lady shivered. She dreaded what she was in for, knowing she was powerless to prevent it.
Later that night, Harry Vincent got word to the Shadow. He had heard a rumor that the Phantom Lady roughed up some gunsels in a Brooklyn pool hall. Then she disappeared, according to the stories.
"Where is this pool hall?" the Shadow asked.
In a building across the street from the pool hall, connected by an underground tunnel, Wolf dragged his unwilling guest, Phantom Lady, into his makeshift apartment. The building was a brothel, so no one interfered with anyone else's business, no matter what they heard. Bobo arranged for Wolf to have a room in the basement all to himself. He pulled the Phantom Lady inside and bolted the door closed.
"Now we're alone, sweet buns," he said, leering hungrily at the beautiful heroine.
Phantom Girl shivered, afraid.
The Shadow arrived at the pool hall, just after nightfall. Using his power to conceal himself, he walked passed the ruffians who were the "cleaners" for the Benetti gang. They routinely hid any bodies or incriminating evidence. They were straightening the wrecked pool hall and removing the dead and wounded. The Shadow paid little mind to them.
He quickly found the hidden door to the back room. While voices argued inside, he stealthily opened the door and slipped into the hidden room.
In the back room . . .
Bobo was cussing and badgering his men. He wanted to know how Phantom Lady found them, and he wanted to know why Wolf had disappeared without a word. He continued yelling and bullying, until his attention was torn from business matters by the last sound that Bobo ever wanted to hear.
It was the cold laugh of the Shadow. Bobo went pale with fear. "Holy . . . !"
Gunshots rang out. Bobo's men fired in vain. Some of them hit each other. The rest were gunned down by the Shadow himself. Soon, not a man was standing. Outside, in the pool hall, the "cleaning" crew heard the shots and debated helping. But the sound of the Shadow's laugh convinced them to make a break for the street, instead. They wanted no part of the Shadow.
In the back room, Bobo Benneti was the last man alive, except for the Shadow himself. He had tried to shoot the Shadow but the vigilante disarmed him. Bobo was battered around the room for a few minutes. The Shadow enjoyed beating on him.
"Don't kill me!" Bobo pleaded. "Please, I'll do anything!"
The Shadow stood over the weeping crime boss, disdainfully. "You're a pathetic creature, Benetti. You do not deserve to live. By all rights, I should end your miserable existence here and now. But I'm going to give you more of a break than you ever gave any of your victims! Tell me where the Phantom Lady is, and I'll give you a one-hour head start to get out of town. If I ever see you again, you're a dead rat. Now, tell me . . . Where is the Phantom Lady?"
"I dunno!" he insisted. "Last I saw her, she was in the pool hall with Wolf Dietrict. Y'know, he has a thing for her. Got her picture tattooed on his arm."
"Where can I find this Wolf Dietrict?"
The Phantom Lady was scared. Wolf was staring at her with lustful intentions. He wanted her and he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. And she didn't know what she could do about it. The door was bolted with the kind of lock only bullets could break. Wolf was far too strong for her to fight, and her black-light bracelet was broken. She couldn't think of any way out of this. I'm in big trouble! This nut thinks he's in love with me! He's definitely in lust with me! I don't like that look in his eye! This is bad! Real bad!
"I'm getting tired of these coy games, toots," Wolf said. "I've waited a long time for this! Let's get down to it! Come on, honey! Let's get sweaty!"
Phantom Lady tried the only weapon she had left . . . her feminine wiles. "Please, Wolf. If you really love me, you won't force yourself on me. Give a girl some time."
"I do luv ya, sweetie," Wolf said. "And I wanna show ya."
He moved closer. She backed up. "Please, you're scaring me. If I mean anything to you, let me go!"
She was backed against the wall. He leaned in, with his arms on either side of her, boxing her in. "Enough talk, baby cakes. I didn't look for you all these years to have a conversation. Let's have fun."
Phantom Lady smiled sweetly, running her hands over Wolf's muscular chest. "You're such a man's man. What girl could resist you? I'll do whatever you want. Just give me a minute by myself to prepare something special for you and I . . . "
"Forget it!" he said. "I'm not waitin' another second! Let's do it now!"
He scooped the Phantom Lady up and dropped her on the bed. He threw himself on top of her and tried to rip off her costume. She struggled ineffectually.
"No, stop it! Please!" she desperately cried out. "Don't do this! Let me go! Please!"
Her unpleasant fate was interrupted, when the door was kicked open. In stepped the Shadow. Wolf leaped to his feet, sizing up the new arrival.
"Thank God!" the Phantom Lady said.
"So you're the Shadow, huh?" Wolf said. "You ain't so big and scary. I seen scarier. I don't sweat you!"
The Shadow could easily have gunned Wolf down. But there was a problem. The problem was that the Shadow liked a challenge. This Wolf was reputed to be as strong as an ape. His body was a mountain of muscle. He was young, confident and crazy. The Shadow honestly didn't know if he could take this man in a fight. He had to know.
"Let's see what you've got!"
The Shadow locked up with Wolf. As he expected, Wolf was much stronger, and easily manhandled the dark vigilante whenever they hooked up in close quarters. The Shadow had to use his speed and fighting skill to handle his monster. He hit and ran, striking at vulnerable nerve clusters. At first, Wolf seemed immune to the attacks, almost unbeatable. But slowly, bit-by-bit, the effects of the fight started to show. Wolf slowed down. His blows got weaker and weaker every minute. He got wobbly, dizzy. The Shadow took advantage of Wolf's weakened state to flip the big man to the ground. Wolf tried to force himself back to his feet. The Shadow went for the knee. There was a loud crack as the knee broke. Wolf fell. The Shadow grabbed Wolf by the head and twisted it, snapping Wolf's neck.
Wolf dropped, dead! The Shadow stood victorious, savoring his great triumph.
"You don't play games, do you?" the Phantom Lady said. "Anyway, I want to thank you from the bottom of my tights. I'm very grateful to you, Shadow."
"When I save a life, that person is forever in my debt," the Shadow said.
The Phantom Lady looked uncomfortable. "Do you want sex?"
"No," the Shadow countered, a little too firmly. "You will help me when I summon you. You are now an agent of the Shadow!"
He handed her one of the rings that indicate a Shadow operative. "Hey, I get jewelry, too. Swell," she said.
"This is serious business," the Shadow said. "You work for me. You will act in a serious manner!"
"Sure thing, big guy," she said, kissing the Shadow on the cheek.
The Shadow backed up. Without another word, he vanished from sight. The Phantom Lady smiled. How many women could say they made the Shadow blush?
Next: The Chinese Connection.