dochermes: (Default)
"Mesa of Damned Souls"


2/27/1998

I/

At dawn, the terrain of Arizona looked red and orange below him. Bane lowered the CORBY from its cruising speed of 300 MPH down to barely 100 and started his descent. The black stealthcopter lowered to two hundred feet. Its passage was almost completely silent. An observer on the ground might have heard something like a stiff wind pass overhead, but that was it.

The Dire Wolf was alone in the craft. He sat in the pilot seat, grim-faced and taut. His helmet had the visor up, showing pale grey eyes a little colder than usual. He had flown out here from New York after getting the call. As soon as he had the necessary altitude, Bane had disengaged the rotors and cut in the Trom impulse drive to shoot the CORBY forward at Mach-1. It wasn't until he was over the Southwest that he brought the craft down to cruising speed and used the rotors again.

The call from Archangel's son disturbed him. The man had never shown any interest in the Midnight War. He was not the hero his father had been, that was certain. As far as he knew, Michael Pulaski was content to run a helicopter courier service that ferried occasional tourists over the Grand Canyon. His sudden call that he needed help freeing prisoners had not rung true to Bane. But he owed enough to Archangel that he had agreed to come.

the rest of the story )



1/29/2014
dochermes: (Default)
"Sea Wolves In Times Square"

10/3/1942

I.


At the unexpected sound of a woman's voice from the back seat, Detective Jim Harkins yelped and dropped his keys by his feet. It was past eleven at night and he had finally stomped out of the precinct house to his Nash after a long brutal day. He twisted around violently. In the sideways light from a store window, he saw the imp face of Kelly O'Connor grinning at him.

"Why am I not surprised to find you hounding me?" he growled.

"Come on, big fella, all I said was 'hi there,'" was her reply.

"Shouldn't all good little girls be tucked in bed at this hour?"

"I happen to be free, white and over twenty-one." She leaned forward so their faces were almost touching. "You know, I think I could get used to your mug. You remind me of our old family basset hound."

"Oh no you don't," Harkins said, drawing his head away. "Out you go. No fast-talking trouble-making redheaded girl reporters allowed."

Not seeming to hear his words, Kelly drawled, "I saw a guy in uniform leave your cop shack. Officer, too..Second Looey I believe. He was with a palooka in a nifty tan suit. Are you boys in blue giving Army Intelligence a hand, what with the war and all that?"

"None of yer beeswax," he said but his tone had definitely softened. "Shouldn't you be assigned to covering flower shows and debutante weddings?"

Kelly laughed with a staccato trill that was funny in itself."You're a riot, Harkins. I go after gruesome murders and Tong wars and Axis sabotagers....saboteurs. Lay the dope on me, what's cooking?"

"Out I said. C'mon, Kelly..."

"Oooh. You called me Kelly. You're tumbling for me, aren't you?" She swung nimbly over and planted herself in the front passenger seat before he could draw a breath.

Now that he saw her more clearly, Harkins weakened even more. Kelly had thick red hair that reached her shoulders, insolent green eyes over an upturned nose and full lips that curved up at the ends. Just the way she was smirking at him made him feel funny. "Seriously, reporter or not, you get out of this car right now, Red."

"Don't be so gruff, buddy. Listen. How's about you giving me a lift? Isn't it a little late for an unescorted lady to walk home? I wouldn't mind a little dancing either, I hear the Blaize Club has a band that swings."

Despite all his intended resolve, Harkins started up the Nash and glanced around before easing out onto 20th Street. Traffic was sparse that night. "I guess taking you home wouldn't hurt. I might feel a twinge if something happened to you because I made you walk. But you go straight home and stop badgering me."

"That's my boy," she said. "Did I tell you we got a new editor on the city desk? I swear, the MESSENGER has a worse turnover than a chorus line. He liked my coverage of the new Tongs in Queens. But I have to stay hot, I need a big scoop to make me stand out from the riff-raff."

Heading uptown, driving slowly because of the lowered speed limit to conserve both gas and tires, Harkins sighed too heavily to be convincing. "We keep throwing you out of police headquarters and you keep sneaking back in. I am not going to tell you anything."

So he thought. But Kelly wheedled him into buying her a coffee and a slice of apple pie at an all-night beanery, and Harkins gulped two cups black himself. During all this, her voice got sweeter and sweeter and she started looking up at him with adoring eyes. He fell for it. Twenty minutes later, he was dropping hints that the recent blackouts had good cause. The captain of a merchant ship going past Ellis Island insisted he had seen a periscope."

"A U-boat? Hot dog, I see headlines with my name under them. I won't have to share a desk with old man Gaddis. What doesn't smell like rum stinks of cigars. And he steals my erasers."

"Whoa. You promised this was all confidential. NOTHING in print, remember."

Kelly was inspecting her plate as if hoping that somehow she had missed a second hunk of pie, then clanked her fork on the counter. "No fair bringing up what I said. Okey dokey, pal, I will sit on it. For now. So what're you doing tomorrow? Gonna dogpaddle out into the river and grab any stray submarines you find?"

"Ahhh, I think the chief is wasting my time but I'm on the graveyard shift tomorrow, 11 pm to 7 am. I'm stuck patrolling Times Square looking for someone. Do me a favor and be in some other part of town. You're a firecracker. I swear you stir up as much trouble as that Green Devil gal."

"Hah! Green Devil my foot," laughed Kelly. "If you ask me, these volunteer crimefighters in their masquerade outfits have all got a few screws loose. I bet the Green Devil isn't even real."

the rest of the story )

Profile

dochermes: (Default)
dochermes

July 2025

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223 242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Apr. 2nd, 2026 12:54 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios