By: Tazzy
A Doc Savage/ The Shadow story

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters save for the occasional bad guy and the superweapon that is used in the story.

Author’s Note: The Shadow story line is based off of Kimberly Murphy-Smith’s novelization of the 1994 movie and her story “Anything is Possible And Nothing is Impossible”. Thanks for letting me play in your universe, Kimberly. Also, this is my first attempt at writing a Doc Savage story and it is based off of the pulp stories, not the movie that was made sometime in the ‘70s. Thanks also to my father who suggested the TYPE of super weapon and how it works.

Rating: R for violence

The Cobalt Club had seen many unusual customers before and after the Crash that led to the Depression, but the strangest by far was the ape-like man covered in red hair. He was seated at a table with a man who looked like he had just stepped off the fashion pages and another man with a powerful air around him that seemed enhanced by his bronze skin and hair. Whispers of awe rippled around the finely clad patrons and not a few stared at the bronze man. It was not hard to recognize Clark Savage, Junior who was better known as Doc Savage, the Man of Bronze. The smartly dressed man was Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks, or Ham to his friends, a lawyer while the third, homely looking man was Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett Mayfair, a world famous chemist nicknamed “Monk”. To the wealthy crowd swirling around the dark blue and silver club, they appeared to be three friends enjoying a nice dinner.

Monk casually glanced around. “Doc, I don’t see him yet,” he whispered taking a quick drink of his ice water. Bronze eyes flecked with gold flickered around the club, resting briefly on the attractive blond sitting at the next table with an older man before moving on. The crowd on the dance floor shifted slightly and a familiar face appeared on the far side.

“He’s on the far side of the club with a brunette in a midnight blue dress,” murmured Doc Savage, finishing his dinner and leaning back in his chair.

“We’ll have to proceed carefully. The gentleman next to us is Commissioner Wainwright Barth,” warned Ham in a soft voice, placing his napkin next to his empty plate.

Monk scowled at the lawyer. The two had a strange friendship that consisted of arguments between them but either would be devastated if anything happened to the other. “Why’s the Police Commissioner having dinner with a woman almost half his age, you overdressed Shyster?” growled Monk, twisting in his seat slightly to keep an eye on their target and the other on the blond in the stunning emerald dress.

Ham smiled, mysteriously. “Because she is waiting for the dark haired gentleman who just arrived,” he replied as a handsome man in his early thirties approached the Commissioner’s table.

“Sorry I’m late, Uncle Wainwright,” apologized the man in a smooth husky voice before pacing a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Margo, darling, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not long,” soothed Margo, smiling at him as the man sat down next to her.

“Lamont, what kept you this time?” grumbled Barth, irritably.

The young man looked up as a waiter set two martinis before him and he dropped a tip on the tray. “One of my associates needed some advice on a proposition that had appeared before him,” remarked Lamont, popping an olive in his mouth.

Before anyone could say anything more, a waiter approached the commissioner’s table and handed the older man a slip of paper. A low growl came from Barth as he crumpled the paper in a fist, and glared at it.

“Is cops and robbers going to end dinner early?” inquired Lamont, finishing his first martini.

“It’s a report about that damn Shadow again,” snarled Barth, throwing the ball on the table angrily. “He’s a menace to society and something has to be done about him.”

Monk snorted. “From what I’ve heard, the Shadow is suppose to be invisible,” he said, wryly. “If he’s invisible, how do people know he really exists?”

“There have been several criminals who state that he may be invisible, but his fists are quite solid,” countered Ham, pleasantly. “He has managed to remove some dangerous criminals from the streets despite his dubious reputation. It is rumored that he’s the one who captured that madman who was going to blow up the city last month.”

“But invisible?” asked Monk in disbelief as he finished the last of his dinner. “We’ve seen some strange things over the years, but I have yet to find an invisible man.” He turned to look at Doc Savage. “What do you think?”

Doc Savage raised his hand to signal their waiter. “I think anything is possible and nothing is impossible,” he replied as he accepted their check. “Remember when we were in Tibet almost eight years ago?”

A frown passed over Monk’s face before realization dawned. “Yeah, we’d gone over to take care of that opium drug lord, Whatshisname,” he began and snapped his finger. “Ying Ko, that was it. But what does that have to do with this Shadow character?”

Ham sighed. “If you recall, you mistake of nature, before we could find Ying Ko’s stronghold, we were escorted to a temple that appeared out of nowhere,” he stated in a hard voice “The boy there, a Marpa Tulku, told us that Ying Ko would be taken care of and had us escorted back to the plane.”

“Get ready. Frank Johnson’s finished his dinner,” announced Doc Savage, suddenly, dragging both men back to their present situation. Monk casually rose and headed for the front door with Ham close by. The two stopped long enough to collect their hats and coats before casually strolling outside. Outside, the stood off to one side with a paper open and pretended to argue about which show they were going to see when a perfectly ordinary looking man emerged from the club. Adjusting his hat, the man turned away from Monk and Ham and started down the street. Still arguing, Monk and Ham followed him and Doc Savage joined them as they passed the club.

After a few blocks, the three men paused briefly to reverse their coats and replaced the much shabbier looking coats over their tuxedos. The man they were following, Frank Johnson, was a suspected arms dealer but there was no proof other than rumors in the Underworld. A new rumor recently began circulating that Johnson was going to receive and demonstrate a new weapon that made whomever wielded it invincible. When the news reached Doc Savage, he had decided to intervene and confiscate the weapon before it hit the streets. A little investigation revealed Johnson to be a wealthy businessman who frequented the Cobalt Club. It was a place to see and be seen by the social elite, and Doc Savage’s reputation was enough to get him and his companions into the club before their target arrived.

Now all they could do was follow Johnson and hope he lead them to the weapon before it was too late.

Lamont glanced up as the strange trio left the club before returning his attention to his uncle. It was rather hard after hearing them discuss Ying Ko and the Marpa Tulku, and he finished his second martini with a sigh. Margo tossed him a concerned glance before tapping her temple, her signal that she wanted to have a private conversation with him. In the month since the defeat of Shiwan Khan, he had been helping her train her abilities as a receptive telepath.

Is something wrong, Margo? he inquired as Wainwright gestured for a waiter.

The man who just left was very interested in a man who was sitting across the room, she reported. That man left almost right after the one across the room did.

Doc Savage doesn’t get interested in people unless there’s a reason behind it, he mused, idly. We’d better leave. I have a feeling that the Shadow is going to be needed tonight.

“Oh my, look at the time!” gasped Margo, glancing at her watch. “We really must be going. Commissioner Barth, please excuse us, but if we don’t leave soon, we’re going to miss the show.” She stood with Lamont and Wainwright rose politely before sitting again once the young couple had moved away from the table. Together, the couple casually left the club and climbed into Moe Shrevnitz’s waiting cab.

“Drive,” requested Lamont, closing the door behind him. Moe pulled away from the curb and easily joined the night traffic of New York City.

“Lamont, how are you going to find Doc Savage?” inquired Margo with a slight frown. “It’s not like you can just tell all your agents all over the city to stop everything and start looking for him and his associates.”

“I could, but it would be a waste of time,” he replied, glancing around. “Moe, pull over.” Instantly the cabbie complied and Lamont emerged from the backseat, holding his hand out for Margo. Confused, she also got out and stood there while he opened the front door. In a flash, she realized his intentions and quickly climbed in the cab next to Moe as Lamont returned to the backseat.

“The docks,” Lamont ordered in a firm voice as he began projecting a heavy fog to keep unwanted eyes from observing him.

“You got it, Boss,” replied Moe, sending the cab racing through the streets. With practiced ease, Lamont changed from the idle playboy to the Shadow, Master of Darkness. He saw Margo glance in the rearview mirror once before her eyes snapped back to the front with a shiver. Casually, he slipped the clips out of the chrome plated Colt .45s, checked to make sure both were full before slamming them home again and slipping the Colts into the shoulder holsters under his cloak.

When they were a few blocks away from the docks, he had Moe stop once more. Take Margo home, instructed the Shadow, emerging from the back of the cab.

“Be careful, Boss,” cautioned Moe as the darkness swallowed the man dressed in black.

There were several abandoned warehouses along the docks that were ideal for criminal activity, and a few were still used for legitimate business by men with criminal ties. One small piece of information that he had overheard from Doc Savage was the name Frank Johnson. Earlier, one of his agents had passed along a rumor about a super weapon that was going to be demonstrated to some of the more powerful hirelings for the mob. The name attached to the arrival of this weapon was Johnson’s, and the Shadow suspected that was why Doc Savage was following the man.

Walking down the docks in the darkness, the Shadow soon arrived at Johnson’s warehouse, and shattered the light above the door. With a quick look around to make sure he was unobserved, he swirled into visibility and crouched at the door with a set of lock picks in his hands. Easily, he unlocked the door and slipped inside, glancing around at the wooden crates stacked in piles to form shadowy aisles through the warehouse.

The Shadow carefully moved deeper into the warehouse, keeping an ear out for any guard that Johnson might have hired to watch his warehouse, when he heard footsteps approaching from outside. A quick glance around revealed a series of catwalks crisscrossing the warehouse just below the rafters and he spotted a pile of crates stacked almost like a staircase leading up to the catwalk. Racing over, he scrambled up the crates and slipped over the railing onto the catwalks. Swirling shadows enveloped him once more just as the door he had entered only a few minutes earlier opened.

“You sure this is the right place, Doc?” inquired a familiar voice as three dark figures entered the warehouse. “I mean the door was unlocked. This could be a trap.”

“No, I don’t think it’s a trap, Monk,” replied the deep voice of Doc Savage. “But I do think that someone was here ahead of us. Spread out and keep your eyes open for anything that could tell us when that weapon is to arrive.” There was a soft murmur of agreement as the trio slowly moved farther into the warehouse, and the Shadow looked around, trying to discover a way down from his current position. Aside from the crates he had climbed up, the only other way down was the metal stairs at either end of the warehouse, and the ape-like man, Monk, had already started up one set of stairs while Ham had started up the other. Silently cursing, the Shadow slipped over the guardrail and carefully descended the stacked crates when a strange trilling noise echoed through the warehouse.

“What did you find Doc?” asked Ham, descending the stairs again with Monk behind him. They walked over to a now opened door and the Shadow silently followed at a safe distance. The door lead to an office where Doc was examining some papers scattered across the desk.

Doc Savage held up a paper. “According to this, the Princess Diamond is due to arrive in port sometime within the next two days,” he announced. “The ship is apparently running behind schedule so its exact time to port is unknown at this time. Its cargo is only mentioned as electronic parts. It’s also the only ship scheduled to arrive with a connection to Johnson’s company. ”

Frowning, Ham leaned on his cane. “Then how are we to intercept this weapon when it arrives?” he muttered. “Its not like we can just hang around the docks for the next 48 hours. Someone’s bound to wonder what we’re doing here.”

Satisfied with the knowledge, the Shadow turned to leave when Doc suddenly looked around. “What is it?” Monk asked, glancing around as well.

“Someone’s here,” whispered Doc Savage. “I heard a rustle of cloth.” Monk drew what looked like a revolver with warts while Ham fiddled with his cane for a few seconds before slipping the outer cover off a long saber. Doc pulled out a flashlight and played the beam around the darkened warehouse.

A soft chuckle emerged from the darkness before growing into a mocking laughter that rang off the walls. Monk and Ham looked around nervously as Doc continued to search the warehouse with his flashlight. “Who’s here, Doc?” asked Monk, gesturing with his revolver.

“I believe that our mysterious friend is the Shadow,” remarked Doc Savage, cocking his head to one side as if listening to something. “He was also the one that arrived before us and unlocked the door.”

“Think he’s working with Johnson?” Monk inquired, glaring at the shadows.

Ham looked around. “It’s obvious the Shadow heard the same rumor as Doc and decided to stop the weapon before it fell into the wrong hands, you missing link,” he growled, glancing over his shoulder at Monk.

Doc Savage took a step into the room. “Shadow, if you are here to stop the weapon from reaching the street, I think it would be best if we work together,” he proclaimed, his voice ringing through the warehouse.

And why is that, Mr. Savage? inquired a powerful voice from everywhere and nowhere.

“Because if we combine our resources, then we have an even larger chance of stopping Johnson with fewer casualties on both sides,” Doc Savage replied, firmly. “Besides, one of my associates can dismantle the weapon safely.”

You refer to Major Thomas J. Roberts who is out of the country, countered the Shadow, his voice dancing around them.

“Doc, we should discuss this elsewhere incase Johnson or one of his business associates comes along,” Ham said, the sword once more securely sheathed in his cane.

The Man of Bronze nodded. “Shadow, if you will accompany us back to our headquarters, we can continue this discussion,” he invited. His only reply was the opening and shutting of a door, and he raced over to the door they had entered, Ham and Monk on his heels. Sliding to a stop outside, the trio watched as a cab vanished into the fog that had rolled in to envelope the docks, and Monk looked up at Doc Savage.

“What now, Doc?” he asked.

“We should return to our headquarters and start planning,” Doc Savage stated, starting down the docks towards an area where the cabs still ran. Monk and Ham exchanged puzzled glances before hurrying after the tall man.

Moe glanced in his rear view mirror as a swirl of darkness solidified into the Shadow before the menacing facial features softened into the handsome profile of Lamont. “You okay, Boss?” asked the cabbie, concern evident in his voice.

“Drive,” requested Lamont, leaning back in the seat. Moe nodded and smoothly pulled into traffic. “Mr. Savage and his two associates arrived at the warehouse soon after I did. However, they offered to team up with the Shadow to get this new weapon off the streets before it even hit them.”

Moe raised a curious eyebrow at this information. “Are ya gonna team up with them? It would be a good idea to have them as back up if nothing else. Especially if something went wrong when the weapon arrived.”

Lamont was silent as he pondered Moe’s advice. Savage and his two associates knew about the Marpa Tulku, but could Lamont afford to work with them to get this mystery weapon out of the wrong hands and possibly risk his identity, and Margo’s safety, in the process? Ham Brooks and Monk Mayfair did not have the training that Mr. Savage hand gone through as a child, but neither were stupid by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, if the rumors on the street were to be believed, nearly a dozen members of the stronger mobs were going to be at this demonstration, and he was a fool to think that they would show up without their own bodyguards to prevent any double crosses by the others. He was planning on turning over the entire group over to his uncle, but there was a good chance that with that many people there that someone could vanish into the woodwork with the weapon before the police arrived.

“To the Empire State Building, Moe,” instructed Lamont, tightening the scarf as his features shifted once more. The Shadow has an appointment with Doc Savage and his associates.

“Yes sir,” agreed Moe, grinning as he turned the cab towards the tallest building in New York.

The lush apartment of Doc Savage was brightly lit, chasing the dark night back beyond the large bay windows that covered one wall. A fire crackled in the huge fireplace, warming the air even at the lofty height of the 86th floor of the Empire State Building. Monk grumbled under his breath as he tossed his overcoat across the back of a chair before folding his arms across his chest and staring at Doc Savage.

“We know that this weapon is suppose to arrive within the next forty-eight hours, but we don’t have an exact time or place,” grumbled the ape-like man as Ham and Doc both removed their coats, making themselves comfortable in the heated room. “And the Shyster’s right. None of us can hang around the docks for that long without raising a few eyebrows. So what are we gonna do?”

I believe I can help with that problem, announced the familiar voice of the Shadow.

Spinning around, Monk dropped his hands, ready for a fight when he froze. This was no dimly lit warehouse, but a bright apartment and he was still unable to find any trace of the Shadow. “Where are ya?”

Laughter rang out through the apartment, loud and mocking. Watching from the shadows, came the reply from everywhere and nowhere. Monk snarled and tensed for a fight when Doc put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Shadow, I think it would be easiest for us all if you made yourself visible,” invited Doc. “After all, the Marpa Tulku would hardly teach someone who was not worthy how to cloud men’s minds.” There was a tense silence as the men waited patiently, when a shadow detached itself from a larger one and in a swirl of dark fog, a tall man with a cloak obscuring his form suddenly appeared. A red scarf was wrapped around his lower face while a pair of powerful eyes gazed out from under the sloping brim of a black hat.

“Blazes!” cried Monk, every hair on his body trying to stand on end and Ham gasped in surprise. “Amazing!” breathed the lawyer, staring at the dark man in disbelief.

Doc nodded his head in greeting. “How can you help find out when the Princess Diamond is going to arrive?” he inquired, getting right to business.

I have my ways, replied the Shadow, gazing around at them. I will find out when the ship arrives as well as where this weapon is going to be tested. He shifted slightly and there was a glint of silver from behind his cloak.

Ham stared at the Shadow with a light of recognition on his face. “You were the one that stopped Shiwan Khan last month!”

I made sure that he was occupied elsewhere while the bomb was disabled, corrected the Shadow. There was a strange note in the powerful voice and Doc tilted his head slightly as he tried to figure out what it was. Whatever it was, it evaded his grasp and he returned his attention to the matter at hand.

“Do you have any plans for stopping the sale of the weapon?” inquired the Man of Bronze.

The full force of that gaze fell on Doc, dark, powerful eyes met calm gold-flecked bronze ones. Remove the weapon from their possession and turn everyone over to Police Commissioner Barth, remarked the Shadow. There was a subtle reddish orange glow and he looked down briefly before the light faded. Expect a messenger from me within the next forty-eight hours.

“Wait a minute,” demanded Monk, summoning his courage and stepping towards the imposing figure. “What if we have to get in touch with you? And what was that light?”

The Shadow ignored the questions as the darkness swirled around him, obscuring him from sight once more. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then, they were alone once more.

“Definitely someone I do not want after me,” muttered Ham, shivering slightly. He tossed an irritated look at Monk who was still fuming about the Shadow’s sudden departure. “And you decide to question him.”

Monk growled and swung around to face him. “Listen you overdressed shyster…” As they slipped into one of their usual arguments, Doc turned to stare out the huge windows and realized that the Shadow was a problem that he wanted to solve. There were too many loose variables about the dark man, and Doc’s mind tried desperately to connect Shiwan Khan, the Marpa Tulku, the Temple of the Cobras, Ying Ko, and the Shadow. After several minutes, he realized that he didn’t have enough information and decided to visit the Mental Hospital in the morning.

A familiar rumbling noise surrounded Lamont as he descended the stairs to his Sanctum, and he made his way over to the huge communications consul in the corner, dropping all hypnotic suggestions. Hidden from the prying eyes of the city above him, he had no need to conceal his features since no one could see him here unless they invaded the Sanctum. A slight shiver raced down his spine at the memory of Shiwan Khan suddenly appearing on the stairwell before he firmly shoved that thought aside as he sank into a chair. Almost unconsciously, his hand danced over the controls, flipping switches and a small screen hummed to life, revealing the face of Burbank, the coordinator of the Shadow’s vast network of agents.

“Report,” ordered Lamont, leaning back in his chair.

“Agent on the Docks reports appearance of Clark Savage, Jr. and two associates,” announced Burbank in a calm voice. “Associates thought to be the lawyer, Theodore Brooks, and chemist, Andrew Mayfair. Also, agent in 45th Precinct reports pressure from certain mob connections to ignore all activity on the Docks for the next three days.”

Three days? Frowning, Lamont said “Await further instructions” before cutting the connection without seeing Burbank’s nod of agreement. Why three days? The Princess Diamond is scheduled to arrive with in the next forty-eight hours, unless the third day is to display the weapon, sell it off, and let the buyers a chance to leave before the authorities find them. Sighing in frustration, he activated the special attachment on the consul and began tapping out instructions in Morse code for his agents at the docks. Doc Savage and his associates could not hang around there all day without attracting attention, but a few of the Shadow’s agents who were common sights on the docks would have no trouble blending into the background. That done, he sat back in his chair and though about the current problem.

During his days as Ying Ko, he had never allied himself with anyone because those allies could easily turn to enemies after his power. As the Shadow, the only people he “relied” on were his agents until Margo came along and showed him how valuable allies and friends both were. Slowly, she was dragging him out of the shell he had built around himself with the darkness in his heart, but it was a gradual process. Now he found himself thrust into a mutual agreement with one of the smartest men on the planet to stop a superweapon from hitting the streets in the hands of the mob, who also knew about Ying Ko and the Marpa Tulku.

Shaking his head in frustration, Lamont stood and sent for Moe as he tightened the scarf once more and pulled the brim of his hat firmly down to shade his face. He quickly ascended the stairs to emerge into the late night and vanished in a swirl of shadows.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching his cell, but Shiwan Khan didn’t think anything of it. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, and the occasional visitor were always walking up and down the hall on their way to visit one lunatic or another, and on occasion, someone would stop in to check up on him. It had been nearly a month since his defeat at the hands, or rather the mind, of Ying Ko, and Khan hungered for revenge against his rival who had taken his hypnotic ability away from him. Unfortunately, unless he was eating, the doctors kept him restrained in a straightjacket, and he doubted that even if he still had his hypnotic powers, he would be able to get free.

A noise at his door distracted Khan from his thoughts of revenge and he looked up as the door swung open to admit a powerful man who looked like a bronze statue come to life. Khan glanced at the man before sitting down on the bed and leaning back against the padded wall, giving the image of a man who didn’t have a care in the world.

“Mr. Khan, I have a few questions for you,” began the bronze man in a deep voice as the door swung shut behind him.

Khan snorted. “If you are here to inquire about my mental health, I assure you that I am perfectly sane,” he interrupted in a bored voice, tossing the man a long-suffering look. “However, no one here believes me any more than they believe that I am the last descendant of Genghis Khan. If that is all you wish to discuss, then I am afraid that you have wasted your time.” With that, he closed his eyes and rested he head against the padding, signaling an end to the interview.

However, the man didn’t leave. “I’m here to discuss the Shadow,” he stated in a calm voice. “I was told that he is the one who defeated you and am interested in learning everything I can about the man.”

Khan opened his eyes and stared at the man, suspiciously. He was not telling the entire truth for his reason for wanting to know, just enough to make it seem believable, yet why he wanted to know what Khan knew about Ying Ko was a mystery. He did not seem like one of Ying Ko’s rivals from his years as an opium drug lord, nor one of the men he now fought as the Shadow. Perhaps he was a police officer who wished Ying Ko off of his streets. If that was the case, it was a blow against the man who had trapped him in this white room, and Khan was always willing to strike out at Ying Ko. He grinned and gazed into the man’s golden-flecked eyes. “What do you wish to know about Ying Ko?”

The man frowned, puzzled. “You’re telling me that the Shadow is Ying Ko, the Tibetian drug lord?”

“Of course,” replied Khan, shrugging as much as his restraints would allow. “The Butcher of Lhasa and the Shadow are one and the same. Here he goes by a different name altogether, but it is still the same black heart that beats in his chest.” A mixture of emotions flickered across the man’s face before an emotionless mask fell into place, and Khan admitted that he was enjoying this talk with this man. Leaning forward, Khan allowed a small smirk to appear on his face. “The name Ying Ko uses in this city is one that is well known to many.” His voice dropped to that of a whisper as he leaned towards the man, nearly falling off the bed.

“Lamont Cranston.”

Doc Savage strolled through the halls of the Mental Ward, not noticing the people who scurried out of his way as they went about their business. His mind was still turning over the information that Shiwan Khan had told him about the Shadow. It was possible that Khan was lying about Lamont Cranston being the Shadow’s true name, but Doc was usually able to tell when someone was lying to him, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Khan had been completely truthful.

The Shadow ruined Khan’s plans to collect millions in ransom and conquer the world, mused Doc, stepping out onto the sidewalk and wincing at the bright sunlight. Khan might see telling me the true identity of the Shadow as a small form of revenge against the man who stopped him. Especially if he thought I was after the Shadow myself. He shook his head slightly as his thoughts swirled around in his mind. At least everything makes sense now. The Marpa Tulku must have recognized the mental powers in Ying Ko and reformed him, teaching him to use those abilities to fight crime in the US. And with the Cranston money, he would have no problem with funding his campaign against crime. But what to do with this information now?

He shook his head and started towards his car. I’m going to need more information before I decide anything, he decided, fumbling with his keys.

Before he could unlock his car, a car screeched around a corner and Doc spotted the nozzle of a gun poking out of a window before he hit the ground, covering his head with his arms just as bullets filled the air. Glass shattered around him and rained down on his prone figure, nicking him before falling to the ground. With squealing tires, the car vanished around another corner and people began pouring out of the hospital to find out what the problem was. Carefully, Doc stood up and brushed shards of glass from his suit as a doctor rushed over to him.

“Are you all right, Dr. Savage?” asked the doctor, running his eyes over Doc to check for himself that Doc was uninjured.

“Yes, just a bit surprised,” replied Doc with a small smile. A flash of red caught Doc’s eye and he looked at the doctor’s hands to find a large silver ring with what could only be a fire opal on the ring finger of his right hand. It looked vaguely familiar but at the moment, Doc couldn’t place where he had seen something similar. “Have the police been alerted, Doctor…”

“Dr. Leonard Levinsky,” supplied the doctor with a smile. “And I called them when I heard the gunfire.” As if giving statement to his words, sirens filled the air as the first of many police cars came flying down the street. Both men watched as uniform officers quickly filled up the area and ushered everyone back into the hospital, with Doc and Dr. Levinsky being singled out for questioning.

Doc quickly filled the officer on what had happened and only mentioned that he had come to talk with a patient in the mental ward to help with one of his studies that he was doing. The officer quickly took it all down before questioning Levinsky who seemed a touch nervous. His eyes kept glancing over to Doc when finally the officer escorted Levinsky to the far side of the small room. Curious, Doc leaned back against the wall and watched the conversation between Levinsky and the officer.

At first the words drifting over to him were about the shooting when Levinsky’s eyes darted over to Doc and his voice lowered even farther.

“The sun is shining,” murmured Levinsky, his lips barely moving as he ran his right hand through his hair.

“But the ice is slippery,” the officer replied, his voice just as soft. “Whatcha need?”

“Get a report that says Doc visited Khan and talked about Ying Ko.” Levinksy sighed. “You’ll be able to get out before I can and this is top priority.” The officer nodded once and left Levinsky’s side to return to Doc.

“You can leave now, Mr. Savage,” the officer stated, putting the notebook away in his breast pocket. “But be careful.”

“You think that this was an attack deliberately aimed at me?” inquired Doc. He already suspected as much but was hoping to find out what the police thought of the attack. It was rather interesting that it occurred only minutes after his visit with Khan and the day after he had formed a tentative alliance with the Shadow.

The officer shrugged slightly. “Seein’ as how they seemed to be aiming at you but not to really injure you, I’d say that this was a warning of sorts,” explained the officer. “All the bullets were aimed at the car windows instead of down at you on the ground. It wouldn’t have been that hard to lower the gun’s muzzle just a bit and shoot closer to you if they were trying to kill you.”

Doc nodded thoughtfully when a familiar flash of red caught his eye and he glanced at the officer’s hands to find another heavy silver ring with a fire opal on the ring finger of his right hand. It was just like Levinksy’s and suddenly he remembered where he had seen a ring like that before. Last night at the Cobalt Club, both Lamont Cranston and Margo Lane had been wearing similar rings. He managed to keep the revelation off his face as he nodded goodbye to the officer and Levinsky and made his way out to a phone. A quick call had his car taken care of and then he dialed the number for Ham’s office and smiled at the greeting he received from the lawyer’s secretary.

“I need to speak to Ham Brooks please,” began Doc pleasantly. “This is Doc Savage.”

“One moment please,” she requested and there was a soft click before Ham’s voice filled the line. “What can I do for you?”

Doc took a careful glance around before answering. “Can you tell me which precinct most of the criminals the Shadow defeats end up at?”

There was a shuffling of papers for several minutes before Ham’s voice returned. “From what I can see, they end up at the 42nd Street precinct,” he reported. “The one that Commissioner Wainwright Barth oversees.”

“Thanks Ham,” announced Doc. “I’ll be in touch.” He hung up and nodded to himself as he left the hospital in search of a cab. Too many coincidences were dancing in Doc’s mind for them not to be connected, and unlike earlier when he first left the hospital, he knew what he was going to do with the information he had acquired.

He had a millionaire playboy to see.

Lamont dropped his coat across the back of a nearby chair before heading over to the small bar in the study. His agents were in place on the docks and watching for the Princess Diamond and any of Johnson’s associates. Now it was time to play the game he detested so much, waiting for the bad guy to make his move. He was just about to pour himself a quick drink when a red glow distracted him and he glanced down to find the fire opal in his ring glowing, a signal that one of his agents had passed on information deemed necessary for the Shadow’s ears.

Just as he was turning to grab his coat and send for Moe and his cab, his butler entered the room. “A Mr. Clark Savage Jr to see you sir,” announced the butler.

“Send him in,” Lamont instructed, knowing that he couldn’t get out of a meeting with the Man of Bronze just at that moment, and the butler moved aside to allow the large bronzed man to enter the room. Easily slipping into the role of the mild mannered playboy, Lamont smiled and held out his hand as he approached the infamous Doc Savage.

“Mr. Savage, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted, acting like he had never officially met the man before that minute.

Doc Savage smiled and gently took Lamont’s hand in a friendly handshake. “Thank you for seeing me like this,” he began as the butler shut the door, leaving the two men alone in the room together.

“Not at all,” replied Lamont, gesturing back towards the bar. “Can I get you something to drink? I know you don’t drink alcohol...”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” stated Doc before looking at Lamont with an expression that stated Doc had a serious conversation on his mind, and there was a good chance Lamont was not going to like the direction it was going to go in. “Actually I wanted to talk to you about some information that I was recently told in a very unusual conversation.”

Smiling carelessly, Lamont poured himself a drink and turned to lean against a nearby table as he gave Doc Savage his full attention. “I’m always willing to help such an outstanding citizen of the city.”

“Then perhaps you can help me fill in a few more pieces to the puzzle I have,” continued Doc , meeting Lamont’s opaline gaze with his own intense gold-flecked stare. “I confess that I have become rather curious about the Shadow that everyone’s talking about and have started investigating the circumstances surrounding his actions ro find out if he will be a problem that my associates and I will have to deal with later.”

“Go on,” encouraged Lamont, with a casual smile pasted on his face. It came so naturally now, along with his playboy mask that he found it difficult at times to distinguish between the mask and his real emotions.

Doc shrugged. “Not much in the news reports or anything really concrete except for a couple of interesting facts,” he continued. “It seems that all the criminals that the Shadow defeats end up at the 42nd Precinct which is run by your uncle, Commissioner Wainwright Barth.”

Lamont shrugged. “My uncle is known for his fair sense of justice and his disgust towards the more crooked cops. Perhaps this Shadow appreciates it and has decided to use that to his advantage to getting these crooks off the street.” And that actually was the main reason Lamont sent the criminals he apprehended to that particular station. The police there weren’t as crooked as some of the other stations and it was known that Commissioner Barth didn’t like crooked cops anymore than he liked crooks.

“Then there was the interesting conversation that I had with Shiwan Khan about an hour ago,” continued Doc, and Lamont was somehow able to keep from flinching at the name of the man who not only killed his teacher, the Marpa Tulku, but almost managed to destroy the city, starting with the Shadow. This was apparently the information that his agent at the mental institution had passed on. The Shadow had left clear instructions with Dr. Levinsky that if anyone was to visit Khan for any reason, the Shadow was to be informed.

“It seems that he knows of two other names that the Shadow goes by,” the Man of Bronze stated, that penetrating gaze never shifting for a second from Lamont, and Lamont realized that there was no way he could use his abilities on that sharp of a mind. Clouding the minds of others to not see him was one thing, but trying to persuade a mind as sharp as Doc’s that his proof was inconsequential wouldn’t work. “And he was willing to tell me those names. One was the name of a Tibetan drug lord. Ying Ko.”

Again, Lamont managed to keep from flinching, not so much at the name but the various memories that the name dredged up, both of battle and blood and of pleasure and women. “And what was the other name?”

“Yours.”

The dark haired playboy forced himself to laugh. “And why do you believe the word of a madman?” inquired Lamont, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “Frankly, I would find it hard to believe anything that he said after he held the city hostage.”

“I can always tell when someone’s lying to me, and I had the feeling that Khan was telling me the truth,” Doc retorted, his eyes firm. “Care to tell me anything more?”

A quick glance at the clock and Lamont sighed. “As interesting as this conversation is, I unfortunately have someplace I have to be,” he said, moving towards his coat and picking it back up.

Suddenly, his ring flashed a second time and Lamont managed to drape his coat over his hand, hiding the ring from Doc Savage even as he reached across the city with his mind to deactivate the signal. Something really important must have come in from his agents to have Burbank signaling him again after the first time. He hadn’t done that is a very long time, not since the Shadow managed to instruct him on just what was necessary information to pass along and what was simply information to be held onto until later.

Doc looked like he was about to protest for a minute before nodding and starting towards the door. Just as they reached the front door, Doc turned and looked straight at Lamont. “The sun is shining.”

Making a show of looking outside, Lamont shook his head. “No, it looks like it’s about to snow again, Mr. Savage,” he replied in a cheerful voice as Moe’s cab pulled up. “Excuse me, my cab’s here.” With that, he left Doc Savage standing in the open doorway of his home and climbed into the back of the cab.

“Where to, Boss?” asked Moe, already driving towards the gates.

“To the Sanctum,” replied Lamont, making sure to face away from the house where Doc Savage was still standing. If Doc Savage had been able to overhear part of the code that identified his agents to each other, then Lamont didn’t want to give the man a chance to find out anything more about his agents. It could lead to the downfall of his entire network if Doc Savage decided to take certain individuals in for their past discrepancies.

When Moe’s cab pulled to a stop next to an alley, Lamont got out to slip down the darker alley even as a few snowflakes started drifting down from the overcast sky. An apparently casual glance around and then the shadows swept in to surround Lamont before whisking him away from the sight of men. Since Khan had followed him down into his Sanctum, Lamont had been doubly cautious about entering the Shadow’s office and retreat from the world.

Careful minutes later, Lamont was sitting in front of a large screen that opened like an iris to reveal the bespeckled face of Burbank, master of the Shadow’s information network. “Report.”

“Clark Savage Jr has been to the mental ward and spent several minutes with Shiwan Khan,” began Burbank before turning to another slip of paper. “And agents on the docks have reported that the Princess Diamond has docked at Pier 36, near Frank Johnson’s warehouse. Crates have been offloaded but other than that, there have been no activity.”

Before Lamont could say anything, there was a whoosh and a thump and Burbank reached over pulling out a note from one of the many tubes that ran all over the city. His eyes scanned the message before widening slightly. “New report from the agents on the Docks. Several men in suits have been seen trickling into the area to avoid suspicion, but all are heading towards Johnson’s warehouse. None appear to be the main bosses rumored to be attending the demonstration, but they are definitely connected.”

“Send a message to the agents at the docks. Tell them to keep watching and be prepared to move in tonight,” ordered Lamont. “Also send a message to Mr. Savage to come to Pier 36 tonight with his associates and be prepared for a fight.”

Burbank nodded and was scribbling away on a notepad when Lamont closed the connection. Rising from his chair, Lamont headed towards the staircase that would take him back up onto the streets.

He had work to do before the sun set.

Grumbling as he hunched farther into his ratty coat, Monk glared around at their darkening surroundings as if it was their fault for him being outside on a blistery cold evening waiting for some mysterious vigilante. Ham stood nearby, also hunched over in a coat that looked like it had seen better days, but Doc Savage appeared to be untouched by the cold wind that blew off the water and whipped around the crates they were hiding behind. While his body may have been standing on the docks, Doc’s mind was miles away in its own space as he mused about what he had learned about the Shadow that day.

Despite what Lamont Cranston had hinted at, Shiwan Khan had not lied to Doc because he had no need to. When he had been confronted with the facts, instead of outright lying, Lamont had danced around the truth like a well trained ballroom dancer, never giving a clear answer while tossing suspicion on what Doc Savage had gained from Khan, to make him doubt his information.

But it didn’t work like he wanted to, mused the Man of Bronze with a slight frown he was unaware of. And what was the point of the fire opal rings? To be able to identify other members of what was looking like a much larger network than Doc had originally through, and if so, why did they need what was also apparently a code phrase if the rings were enough of an identifier?

He had seen another ring on the hand of a messenger who had been waiting in the lobby of the Empire State Building near the front desk with his bicycle leaning against the polished marble. The kid who couldn’t have been more than seventeen had handed over the envelope made of heavy cream-colored paper, accepted the two quarters tip and touched the brim of his hat, flashing another heavy silver ring set with a large fire opal before pushing his bike out the door to vanish down the street.

The message had been straight to the point, once it had faded into view, activated by Doc’s body heat, and then faded less than a minute later, taking the brief message and the silhouette of a man in a wide brimmed hat with it.

You do realize that sound carries better on a cold night, don’t you? Inquired a mocking voice, causing Monk and Ham to both gasp in surprise and snap Doc Savage out of his thoughts as the imposing figure of the Shadow swirled out of the darkness.

“How long have you been here?” demanded Monk, his fists clenched and Doc knew that he was getting antsy for a fight.

Long enough, came the reply as the Shadow turned his head towards the warehouse that was located farther down the docks. The soft sound of casual footsteps caused Doc and his two associates to sense up as a young boy just barely in his teens stepped around the large crates, a slightly confused look on his face as if he was unsure why he had wandered back here.

The young boy’s brown eyes widened at the sight of the Shadow but it was quickly replaced with the determination of a young child wanting to look like an adult in a parent’s eyes. “How can I help you, sir?” he asked in a respectful tone, not looking at the other three adults with the Shadow.

Has there been any change? Inquired the Shadow and the young boy nodded. “According to Singing Sam, about a dozen toughs in suits showed up roughly fifteen minutes ago and went in, but there haven’t been any shots fired.”

Very good, Billy. Now lead us to Singing Sam, said the Shadow and young Billy beamed like he had been given the best gift on the planet. Billy pulled out a bottle in a brown paper bag from his oversized coat and started back the way he came with the four adults ghosting after him.

“Doc,” muttered Ham, his voice worried and Doc nodded, knowing what Ham’s problem was without the lawyer saying anything. What kind of man would willingly use children to help him?

The kind that saved young Billy there from starting down a life of crime, came the unexpected reply and Doc glanced over at the Shadow. It was quite obvious from the look on your face what your concern was.

“That still does not give you the right to use children like this,” argued Doc in a soft voice.

If I had not intervened, young William Baker would be in jail for breaking and entering as well as an associate of murder, the Shadow stated in a no-nonsense tone. The gang that he had started running with ended up being convicted of those charges less than a month after I saved him from their leader.

Before Doc could protest further, Billy held up a hand, signaling them to stop before he skipped over to a large wooden crate that was on its side. Two men in ragged clothes were huddled under the wood, looking like just another pair of bums that made their home on the docks.

“Hey Singing Sam, got your bottle for ya,” called Billy, sounding like a kid trying to help out a friend and maybe make a couple of dimes on the side instead of the mature person he had been before. One of the men moved to reveal a long tangle beard and an even more tangled length of hair, giving him a wild appearance and almost completely hiding the dirt smudged face. “Got a song for me?”

The man laughed and sang in a beautifully clear voice. “The sun is shining, oh my lay, the sun is shining, chasing all my shadows away!”

Report, demanded the Shadow, gliding forward. He glanced down at Billy who nodded and slipped into the growing darkness as the second man leaned forward. This one also had a dirt smudged face and a stubble growing, but Doc could make out the Italian ancestry and the unmarked skin under the dirt. This man was no ordinary bum or down on his luck stray.

“A dozen men entered closer to a half hour ago, all of them with at least four bodyguards and all of them packing enough iron to open their own shop,” he reported in a low voice. “I’d say the total in there is close to forty guys, all with the urge to use their guns first and ask questions when the dust dies down.” He flashed a quick grin at Doc, ham and Monk before returning his attention to the Shadow. “Those dozen are definitely top lieutenants in various crime syndicates, and I know two of ‘em are from the Mancini and De Luca families.”

Be ready to call the police on my signal, the Shadow ordered and both men nodded before resuming their sprawl in the wooden crate. Turning, the Shadow started towards the warehouse when he swirled out of sight, and the sound of a fist hitting flesh followed by a quiet thump indicated that the Shadow had taken out someone, possibly a guard, before the dark clad man reappeared in the same swirl of darkness and shadows that had enveloped him. The guard has been taken care of, but we will still have to move quietly to get past everyone that is inside.

Doc nodded and moved over to the door. The light above it was still broken from the night before but he was more concerned with the light spilling out from the next warehouse over. The second he opened that door, they would be silhouetted against the light and easy targets for whomever was watching.

As if in answer to his thoughts, a thick fog began rolling into the harbor, diffusing the light and obscuring definite outlines of their surroundings. In a few minutes, the fog was thick enough to make it difficult to see, and Doc cautiously opened the door, waving Monk and Ham through. He closed the door behind him after the Shadow slipped in, and the four of them found hiding spots behind a bunch of crates.

Ringing the center of the mostly cleared out warehouse floor was close to forty men in suits with heavy coats that didn’t hide the bulges of guns that everyone was carrying. Standing in the center next to a strange gun that had a bell-shaped nozzle was a man in a pin striped blue suit with a nervous looking man in a rumpled lab coat.

“So lemmie get this straight, Johnson,” drawled one of the men, not taking his hands out of the pockets of his coat as he talked. “This gun is able to cause even the most hardened of men to become masses of fear and paranoia?”

Johnson nodded. “According to Doc Brown here, there are certain sound waves that humans can’t hear, but still affect a person. The longer they’re in the affect of the waves, the more frightened and paranoid they become.”

“How do we know that this is the real deal and you’re not blowing smoke rings?” demanded another guy and Johnson smiled.

“There were some homeless bums that we rounded up with the promise of hot food and tested the fear gun on them,” he announced in a proud voice. “In five minutes, they were cowering in terror and another three hand them fighting each other in a paranoid frenzy. Took ‘em a while to kill each other but that’s cause they were shaking so badly I guess.”

Interested murmurs echoed through the warehouse as the various crooks glanced at each other nervously. “Just think, gentlemen, with this fear gun, you could hold entire neighborhoods hostage, demanding that they pay up or you use the fear gun on them. Possibly even the city! What official wouldn’t be willing to hand over money in exchange for preventing riots?”

“Doc, is that possible?” whispered Monk, his eyes large and Doc nodded.

“There is a subsonic frequency that can induce fear and paranoia in people if they are exposed to it long enough,” confessed the large bronzed man, his lips barely moving. “And the thought of it turned on even a few people is frightening.”

The I suggest we take it off the streets before the bidding war starts, remarked the Shadow, drawing two chrome plated Colt .45s even as Ham and Monk drew their machine pistols with the special mercy bullets Doc had developed to knock a person out instead of killing them.

Lashing out, Doc grabbed the Shadow’s arm, golden eyes drilling into powerful blue green opaline eyes. “No killing.”

Unless it is necessary, countered the Shadow before shrugging off Doc’s grip and swirling into invisibility. Get ready to move.

Before Doc could say anything more, there was the soft rustle of cloth indicating that the Shadow had moved farther into the warehouse, and the three men peered over the crates to watch as the men that had to be the various lieutenants from the various families started haggling and bidding on the so-called fear gun.

“Fifty thousand!” shouted one of the men who had remained silent through the questioning and soft, mocking laughter echoed through the warehouse, causing everyone to look around at the other people there to see who was laughing and a few of the more nervous crooks drew their guns as the looked around the warehouse, trying to find out where the laughter was coming from. The laughter continued to grow until it was ringing through the air and more than a couple of the goons where whispering “The Shadow” and looking for the quickest exit.

Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know about this little meeting? Inquired the Shadow in a mocking tone as more people started drawing weapons. There is no where that you can hide that I can not find you.

A single shot rang out and everyone crouched on the floor in an attempt to find cover before more bullets rang out only to realize that no one was firing anymore. Cautious looks around revealed the damage done by the single bullet as the fear gun sizzled and smoked around a hole in its delicate circuitry, and Doc was impressed that the Shadow was able to hit the gun in the most important place to disable it, possibly permanently, without giving away his location.

“Let’s get outta here since the gun’s toast,” one of the crooks closest to Doc’s hiding spot muttered to his boss. “The last thing we need is ta get caught in a cross fire with a bunch of trigger-happy morons tryin’ ta peg the Shadow.”

The boss nodded and a group of about six men started for the door when Doc nodded at Ham and Monk.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, ya crook!” shouted Monk as he opened fire on the crowd, causing everyone struck with one of the mercy bullets to fall to the ground unconscious. Now swearing filled the air as the men were given definite flesh and blood targets and several opened fire on Doc, Ham and Monk, forcing the three to duck behind crates that were slowly being chewed apart by flying lead.

“Monk! Ham! Spread out and catch them in a crossfire!” Doc called out in Mayan as he started sneaking through the crates to get away from the rapidly vanishing cover. Monk’s shouting in Mayan reached his ears over the chatter of gunfire, and Doc sighed. There were times he wished his friend was a bit less hot headed when it came to fights.

The familiar sound of flesh hitting flesh reached Doc’s ears and he cautiously peered over another set of wooden crates to find some of the crooks falling to invisible hands that almost seemed to swirl into existence from the shadows before they vanished again. A few of the men weren’t paying any attention to Doc so he risked snapping off a few shots that felled some of the men still standing before moving to another place.

Get down! Hissed a voice almost in Doc’s ear as a heavy body slammed into his, forcing him to the ground as bullets whizzed through the place he had just been standing. There was a slight grunt from the body holding his down accompanied by the whine of a bullet, and Doc guessed that someone had gotten lucky with their aiming and had actually hit the Shadow.

Before he could say anything or verify that fact, the weight on his back was gone and there were more sounds of fists meeting flesh with the occasional cry of pain and fear as another person fell to the Shadow’s fists or guns. When he could, Doc fired at various men who were trying to escape or pin the Shadow down, rendering them unconscious with his mercy bullets. From the amount of people dropping, he could tell that Ham and Monk were having just as much success as he was.

Finally, the only people left standing was Frank Johnson and Doc Brown, the later who was whimpering in Johnson’s arms as the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed against his temple by the desperate man.

“I’m walkin’ outta here and you’re lettin’ me or I’ll blow his brains out!” Johnson shouted, flecks of spit flying from his mouth. And Doc Brown started whispering a prayer under his breath as he was roughly dragged across the floor.

What makes you think you will be allowed to walk out of here, Johnson? Asked the mocking voice of the Shadow, but to Doc’s ears, it sounded a bit strained as if he was doing his best to not let any pain he was in bleed through to his voice. Slowly, Doc continued creeping around the crates until he was behind Johnson, and tried to judge the distance to see if he could grab the gun before Johnson shot Brown. Unfortunately, from the nervous shaking of Johnson’s hand, Doc knew he would have to be extremely lucky to take Johnson down without getting Brown killed.

Suddenly, Johnson let out a strangled yell and shifted his aim to fire at the swirl of shadows and darkness, and Doc shot him once with a mercy bullet, the knock out formula in the capsule quickly sending Johnson into unconsciousness. Instead of running, Doc Brown just stood there with a relieved look on his face.

“Thank you,” gasped Brown, turning to look at Doc Savage as he, Monk and Ham emerged from their hiding spots. “I am willing to turn myself over to the police, but I ask that I be allowed to see my family one last time.”

“Whatcah talkin’ about?” inquired Monk as he cautiously approached the man.

Brown gestured to Johnson. “I worked for an exterminator company that was run by Mr. Johnson here,” he explained, shrugging out of the rumpled lab coat. “I had been experimenting with different ways of killing various pests so as to not leave a lot of dangerous chemical residue such as current practices have when I turned my attention towards various sound waves. I stumbled upon a frequency that caused fear and paranoia in a few of my lab assistance on accident. Johnson found out, and threatened my family if I didn’t co-operate with him.”

“And that gun of his?” inquired Ham. “Are there any other ones?”

For some reason, that sent Brown laughing. “The gun doesn’t work at all,” he explained after calming down. “It’s put together in a way that would cause it to spark and smoke, giving whomever held it enough time to throw it away before the circuits overloaded and it exploded.” He shrugged. “I figure that whomever bought the gun would turn on Johnson and my family would be out from under his thumb. I honestly didn’t expect to be ordered to attend this little meeting of his at all.”

There was a quiet opening and closing of a door before the sound of sirens reached Doc’s ears, and he remembered that strange grunt the Shadow had let out after pushing Doc to the floor. “Ham, you and Monk stay here and tell the police everything that happened,” he ordered, starting towards the door, pausing only briefly when he spotted the small drops of what was definitely blood. “I’ll meet you back at headquarters later.”

Before either could say anything in protest, Doc was out the door and heading for the car that they had left parked safely under cover. His instincts were telling him that the Shadow had been hit by a lucky bullet and with the blood that he had left behind, he was injured badly. And he would need someone who could remove the bullet and stitch up the injury with more talent that he would have doing it himself.

Slipping behind the wheel of the car, Doc tore away from the docks, heading for the one place he was certain that the Shadow was returning to.

The home of Lamont Cranston.

Somehow, Lamont managed to make it into his home and up to his bedroom without his butler or maid seeing him before he carefully eased off the heavy cloak, wincing as the bullet in his side reminded him of its presence as if the throbbing ache and the trickling blood wasn’t enough of a reminder. He was still unsure how he managed to convince Moe that he was fine, only tired, and now tried to summon his strength to call Margo to help him like she had during that confrontation with Khan and Farley Claymore.

The scarf, wide brimmed hat, long coat and guns hit the floor of his bedroom, but Lamont’s knees buckled when he tried to remove anything more. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the expected pain when he hit the floor only to be caught by a pair of strong arms.

“Easy, Cranson,” soothed a deep and familiar voice, but one that didn’t belong to any of his agents. Startled, Lamont’s eyes flew open to find himself looking up at the serious face of Doc Savage.

“How...” began Lamont only to hiss in pain as a large hand found the wound in his side.

Doc smiled slightly. “Despite your rather skilled verbal dance earlier, it didn’t persuade me to distrust the facts I had gathered,” he stated, helping Lamont over to a large bathroom. “I also heard you get hit when you pushed me to the floor in the warehouse.”

Lamont sighed, both in relief and in resignation as he was lowered to the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, and he pressed his forehead against the blessed chill of the white ceramic, a sure sign that a fever had set in. Weakly, he managed to reach up and grab Doc’s arm.

“No opiates,” he forced out between clenched teeth. “Past addiction...”

“I understand, and can I assume that you have the necessary supplies in your medicine cabinet?” inquired Doc. Lamont managed a quick nod of his head before he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, he was tucked into his bed and a few lights were on. Turning his head slightly, Lamont found Doc Savage casually sitting in a chair next to his bed, a very familiar fire opal ring in his hand, and he was suddenly aware of the bare feeling on his left hand. For over seven years, that ring had resided on his left hand since the day the Marpu Tulka had placed it there, and Lamont was feeling strangely naked without it.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Cranston,” greeted Doc, and Lamont offered him a wry smile.

“Thank you for patching me up,” he said, slowly sitting up with a wince and a hand at his side, covering the thick bandages. “May I have my ring back?”

Doc dropped the heavy ring in Lamont’s hand and the brunet man instantly slid it back on his left hand, a soft sigh slipping out of him now that the comforting weight had been returned.

“So now what?” inquired Lamont with a small smile as he regarded Doc. “I saved your life and you saved mine so we’re even there, but what now? Are you going to go straight to the police to announce that not only is the Shadow real but you know who he is? After all, your word would carry more weight than some criminal off the street.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking over since I put you in bed,” Doc confessed, his voice casual. “You were Ying Ko, Tibet’s most fearsome opium lord, and yet, for the past seven years, you have been fighting crime and building your network of helpers.”

Lamont nodded. “And it was with the help of that network that allowed me to stop Khan before he destroyed the city,” he remarked, a wry smile on his face even as a hand automatically drifted down to cover the red triangular shaped scar in his side, surprisingly near his recent injury.

“How did you create that network?” inquired the Man of Bronze, his powerful gaze curious.

A soft chuckle slipped out, nothing like the loud, mocking laugh of the Shadow or even the socially polite laugh of the millionaire. “When I save a person’s life, that life belongs to me in the tradition of the Orient, and they in turn are added to the network where their skills and talents help the Shadow fight crime.”

There was a thoughtful look on Doc’s face now as gold flecked bronze eyes met blue green opaline. “And if any of these ever turn back to a life of crime? Then what?”

Those opaline eyes turned hard with the shimmer of power that was at Lamont’s command. “Then, they are removed from the network, all memory of the network is erased from their minds, and they are turned over to the police for prosecution with the evidence of their crimes which they are more than willing to confess to.”

Doc nodded absently, a frown on his face. “Would there be anyway for your network to assist my men and I if we needed to access it? There had been times when it would have helped if there were more than just us.”

Reaching out, Lamont opened the drawer of the night stand and pulled out a silver ring with a fire opal on it. “I only ask that we can contact you if you or your associates’ talents are needed,” the brunet stated.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with a current case,” agreed Doc.

Lamont slid the heavy ring on Doc’s right hand. “The fire opal ring allows each member of my network to identify each other. When someone shows you their ring and states ‘The sun is shining’ you respond with ‘but the ice is slippery’. That is the confirmation that you are indeed part of the network and not someone who either overheard the code phrase or got a hold of a ring. You help another agent with no questions asked why, and you do not acknowledge that the Shadow exists. That is to protect you as well as me.”

Doc nodded his understanding. “Then it will be a pleasure to work with you in the future, Mr. Cranston,” he announced, holding out his hand, and Lamont grinned as he shook the offered hand.

“Please, call me Lamont,” requested the millionaire.

This was definitely the start of something new for both the Shadow and Doc Savage, the Man Without Fear.