by Gregg Taylor
“It is Constable Parker, isn’t it?” O’Mally had said, opening a file on the Captain’s desk. “Constable Andy Parker?”
“Uh- Yes, sir,” Parker had replied.
“Parker, I have an unusual assignment for which I require the services of a capable and resourceful officer, without going through the normal channels,” O’Mally had begun. “Captain Kreiger tells me that you may be the very man. What do you think?”
“I think I can’t answer that question without knowing more, sir. Though if Captain Kreiger says so, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t true.”
O’Mally had snorted his approval. Loyal, but not a yes-man. Eager, but not to the point of willful blindness. A good beginning.
“Parker, I don’t have to tell you that this city has its share of problems. But since a certain man decided to put on a mask and take the law into his own hands, the potential for disaster has become unacceptably high.”
“You mean… the Red Panda, sir?”
“Do you know of any other masked men patrolling the city’s rooftops, Constable Parker?” O’Mally had said, his pipe clenched between his teeth to the point of snapping.
“No, sir. I don’t mean to be obtuse, sir, but it seems to me that the Red Panda has been doing some good.”
“Has he?” O’Mally’s eyes had blazed with disappointment.
“I’m not saying I approve of his methods, Chief O’Mally,” Parker had backtracked, “but I see the effect he has on the street every day. He does more than just shut down rackets and take toughs off the street. He gives the people hope, sir. And in times like these, that’s a kind of public service too.”
O’Mally had looked down his nose at the junior officer. He was bright, earnest and believed what he was saying. The Chief respected him for speaking his mind. He needed young men like Andy Parker on his force, but he needed them to trust him to see the bigger picture.
“Parker, I don’t deny that there’s some truth in what you say. Although there’s never been any proof that the Red Panda isn’t simply eliminating rival gangs to consolidate crime under his rule.”
“Nor has there been–,” Parker had begun.
“Nor has there been any proof that he is, I know. But we’re men of the world, Parker, and we’ve both seen too much of man’s inhumanity to man to believe in the Tooth Fairy. Maybe the Red Panda has no agenda other than the public good. But is that really the most likely scenario?”
“Well… I guess not,” Parker had admitted.
“And when the day comes that he makes that clear, with his usual flair for the dramatic, what kind of effect do you think that will have on those who believed in him? Who looked up to him?” O’Mally’s gaze had been strong. It had been hard to meet his eyes, but impossible to look away.
“I see what you mean, sir. But I’m just one uniformed policeman. What can I do?”
“We must have leverage on this Mystery Man. We cannot give him carte blanche to operate as he sees fit, and have no way to track his activities. But I can’t set up a formal operation. If word got out, the whole department could be made a laughingstock. You’re… forgive me… but you’re unimportant enough to be able to run an independent operation for me without attracting any attention. Kreiger has given the okay for your temporary transfer to my direct command, if you feel equal to the task.”
“Forgive me, Chief O’Mally,” Parker had felt his head swim, “but… what task exactly?”
“We must know who he is, Parker. Who he really is and why he does what he does. I need you to discover the true identity of the Red Panda!”
Unmask the Red Panda! It had been the battle cry of gangdom since his crusade had begun, and now Andy Parker, sworn officer of the law, had been handed the task all on his own.
He had spent days alone in the archives, reading and re-reading every case file, every newspaper story he could lay his hands on. If there were any insight to be found there, it had eluded the able Constable Parker. But bookwork was not his strength. He needed to investigate, to see with his own eyes. But how was he to manage that? It would be like tracking a ghost. Few had seen the Red Panda when he had not intended to be seen. As he traded in his pile of newspaper clippings for a fresh copy of the evening Chronicle, he realized there was one place where the Red Panda was sure to be found. He read Jack Peters’ crime column, hinting at possible new gang developments in the north end. Hero or menace, if the Red Panda was to be found anywhere, it would be there, in the thick of crime!
And so it was that two days later, Andy Parker found himself headed for a small grocery store, just steps ahead of a man he knew to be a violent mobster. He had nosed around enough to get a sense that there might be a protection racket at play. He had heard enough whispered talk to know that the owner of this greengrocer’s did not intend to pay the new gang’s ransom. Andy Parker was betting there would be trouble here, and at the very least he would be on hand to help the shopkeeper deal with Satchel Braun.
Parker entered the shop. A small bell rang above the door.
“I’m just about to close up,” the shopkeeper called.
“Sure thing,” Parker said, making his way to the back aisle. “I won’t be but a minute.”
It was less than half a minute later when the bell rang once more. Parker heard the shopkeeper’s voice again.
“Closing in a minute– Oh. It’s you,” he said.
“That’s right, Northcott. You don’t sound so surprised.” Parker could hear Satchel Braun’s deep, nasal voice, cocky and sure of himself.
“Naw. I guess I knew that you’d be back.”
“Smart boy. Now, you gonna be just as smart and pay what you owe?”
Parker edged to where he could just make out the men standing almost nose to nose. The shopkeeper bristled in anger at the much larger man.
“I don’t owe you a thing. You or any man. This is my place–”
“Because we say it is. No other reason, little man.”
“You get out of here, you understand? Get lost while you still can!”
The gangster chuckled, “While I still can, is that it? The grocer makes with the threats? Well, here’s a little something for you!” The hood reached inside his coat quickly.
“Hold it right there!” Parker heard his own voice calling as he burst forth, his .38 drawn. “Get your hands where I can see them, Braun!”
Satchel Braun looked amused. “Do I know you?” he said holding up the hand that had been thrust into his coat.
Parker blinked in amazement. The hand held nothing but a small whistle!
In a flash, he felt a shot of pain in his neck that coursed down his back, almost paralyzing him. Someone behind him had some kind of hold on pressure points in his neck!
“Drop the gat, tough guy,” said a voice. A decidedly un-masculine voice. Parker was so surprised, he couldn’t have spoken even if it had been possible. A grey-gloved hand reached out and pulled his service revolver away from him. Parker was powerless to resist.
“Well, well… what have we here?” said another voice that seemed to come from nowhere. Suddenly, from a darkened doorway that Andy Parker could have sworn was empty, emerged the tall figure of a man, all in grey with a bright red mask holding back terrible eyes. Eyes that seemed to glow, but were completely blank! He was here. It didn’t seem possible…
“Who have you got?” the Red Panda boomed.
“Don’t know mine. He’s a fresh face,” said the voice behind him. The voice’s owner moved to Parker’s right side and resolved itself into the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. The girl’s face was hidden by the cowl, but it was impossible to hide that she was a beauty. But there was an edge to the wry grin that played about her lips that screamed of danger. “Who’s yours?” she called back to her partner.
“Satchel Braun,” said the Red Panda in mild disgust. “Imagine my disappointment.”
“Braun? Gangland’s new mastermind? And his trusty assistant Skippy the Paperboy here? Sheesh.”
Parker w
as gasping for air. “Co… co…,” he tried to say. The Flying Squirrel was less than impressed.
“Make sense, wouldya, kitten? We’re on the clock here,” she growled.
“Co… co…”
“So, Satchel,” the masked man began, “we take hundreds of gangsters off the street and you only move up from goon to assistant goon manager. That’s got to sting. And I see you’ve taken up a musical instrument. I’m surprised you’ve got the brain power to play the whistle.”
“Oh, I play it real good, hero,” Braun spat, “and you won’t like the tune too much.”
“Co… co…,” Parker gasped.
“I think mine’s got a stutter,” called the Squirrel.
“Did you forget to release the pressure points again?” came the reply.
“Aw, shoot.”
Parker felt the sensation like knives of fire suddenly stop and he crumpled to the floor. He gasped for air.
“Cop… I’m a cop…,” he gasped.
“What?”
“Check the pocket… Badge…”
“Unh… Boss?” she called.
Braun saw his opening and took it. He made the one move the masked man couldn’t react to in time. He fell straight backwards and rolled, and came up blowing the whistle as hard as he could. No sound could be heard.
The Red Panda sped forward and put an end to Satchel Braun’s silent solo with a right cross that shattered the gunman’s jawbone and sent him sprawling, unconscious, to the floor.
“Boss?” the girl called. In spite of himself, Parker’s heart raced as she leaned in close to pull his shield out of the jacket pocket he indicated. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Ultrasonics,” the masked marvel replied. “Could mean dogs.”
Without warning, the plate glass windows in the front of the shop burst into a million pieces as two enormous men crashed through them. Each had to be over seven feet tall, and were massive even in proportion. They didn’t shield themselves from the flying glass; they didn’t even blink. They just raced right through the window as if it weren’t there and stood, fists clenched.
“Nope,” the girl said. “It ain’t dogs.”
“Get Mister Northcott out of here!” the Red Panda called to his partner. She raced from Parker’s side and pulled the stunned shopkeeper to the doorway in the back of the shop.
Parker looked up in time to see the Red Panda step in to the approaching giants. He broke from his fighting stance with astounding speed and brought a right cross through the face of the towering man to his left, while bringing his right foot straight up into the face of the other with a force that made Parker shudder in spite of himself. Another red-gauntleted fist flew, bringing a left uppercut to the first giant’s breadbasket. The man jumped back half a step and froze in amazement. None of his blows had the slightest effect!
The giant on the left blinked once and brought his right arm across in a sweeping gesture. It was clumsy and brutish but lightning fast, and it caught the Red Panda off guard. He was thrown six feet through the air, only stopped by the solid brick wall. He crumpled to the floor as the two giants closed in on him.
Parker scrambled to his feet, grasping for his revolver where it had fallen. It was plain the two behemoths meant to crush the masked man’s head in as he lay dazed by the blow that would have killed an ordinary man.
Before Parker could raise his gun or react, he heard a yell coming from the back of the shop. A battle cry. Rage and joy all balled into one, and getting closer fast.
Parker’s hat was grazed off his head as she flew by, aided by the gliders that gave her her name, and propelled by some unseen force as she leapt from the top of the shelves behind him, streaking for the men who threatened her partner.
Without more than a glance back, the nearest of the two giants plucked her from mid-air and turned the force of her dive against her, slamming her against the far wall with a sickening thud. Then they turned their attention back to the still-dazed Red Panda as a third man walked slowly through the space where the window had been. He was much smaller and slighter, but with the same curiously blank expression as the two giants. The third man clutched his trenchcoat around him, ignoring the melee in his midst.
Parker sprang to his feet and fired his service revolver twice, point blank, at each of the lumbering men. They turned to him slowly. Parker blinked in amazement – they were completely unharmed. Without thinking, he emptied his revolver into the approaching forms with the same effect, or total lack thereof. The two giants lurched towards Parker, as the third man made his way slowly towards the centre of the room.
Parker looked around desperately for something to defend himself with. If these two behemoths had shrugged off the blows of the masked heroes, Parker couldn’t imagine what would have an effect.
An instant later he had his answer. From the floor, the Red Panda swept forth in a roundhouse kick toward the nearest intruder. With clockwork precision, he directed all of his force toward the big man’s leg, just below the knee. There was a sickening crunch which made Parker cringe in spite of himself. The man did not appear to feel the impact, but basic physics of the situation made it impossible for him to stand on the shattered leg. The man fell to the floor with a thud, swiping out at the still-prone mystery man as he did so.
Parker looked up with a gasp. The second giant, seemingly unaware of his companion’s plight, was now within striking range. He leapt back as best he could, slamming into the racks of merchandise behind him. Andy Parker had run out of room to run.
From nowhere, the girl in the grey catsuit backflipped through the air and landed on top of the shelves behind him. She pulled a six-inch long metallic strip from her belt and flipped it open into a star-shaped device with a sound not unlike a sword being drawn. With keen precision she threw it just over the shoulder of the man who stomped towards Andy Parker. For a second Parker thought that she had missed her target. As he saw the throwing star pierce the lead wire from the power box on the wall, he knew he was mistaken.
Sparks flew as the wires, crossed by the metal of the weapon, threw forth a mighty electric current. The Flying Squirrel leapt, spinning as she flew towards the man, and bringing her left foot through the space occupied by his head with terrific force. The kick did not have much effect on the seemingly invulnerable man, moving him back no more than a few inches, but with the crippled form of his companion on the floor behind him, those few inches were enough. The second man fell backwards, colliding directly with the metal shield around the now-destroyed power box. The crossed wires pumped fiery death into the second man, but while it caused him to twitch and even smoke, still he did not fall or cry out.
She turned back towards Parker, but something drew her attention away and forced her eyes to open wide in shock.
“Boss!” she cried, pointing behind Parker.
Andy Parker turned to look at the third man, who had now made his way to the back of the shop near the gas lines. He had dropped the trenchcoat that he had once clutched so tightly around his body to reveal a garish waistcoat made entirely of explosives. The expression on the man’s face never changed as he fumbled for what could only be a detonator.
Parker’s head reeled. He took two steps backwards by instinct without looking, and with predictable results. As he crashed to the floor, he knew there was no way he could escape the blast that the little man at the back of the shop was about to unleash.
“Squirrel!” he heard the Red Panda call from near the front of the shop.
“Hang on!” the girl’s voice called. Suddenly, she was beside Parker. From the side of her belt she pulled a Grapple Gun, clipped a small device to the end of the bolt and fired out the open space that had been the front of the store. The bolt flew high across the broad avenue and disappeared on a rooftop across the street. Parker tried to speak, but couldn’t.
“Squirrel!” her partner called again. Parker couldn’t bring himself to look at the dazed little man with the bomb. She clipped the Grapple Gun to t
he back of Parker’s belt.
“You owe me one, officer,” she said with a smile.
And before he knew what was happening, Parker felt himself pulled out into the open space by a mighty force. He was hauled up by the grapple line hooked to his belt, over the form of the Red Panda who was racing back towards his partner, and thrust out into the night sky over the avenue. The young officer lost sight of the store several times as he twisted uncontrollably through the air, in a backwards race for safety. He was almost across the street when the shop blew, sending tongues of flame high into the night sky. Of the masked man and the fearless female, Parker could see no sign.
By the time the Flying Squirrel had sent Constable Parker to safety, there had been no time left for her to reach the open space of the front window. The Red Panda had thrown his boomerang to try and disarm the little man – a desperate ploy, but one that had bought a few precious seconds. The Red Panda had plucked her from the space on the floor formerly occupied by Parker, tucked her close to his side and raced past the little man as he struggled mechanically with the explosive. He turned his shoulder into the sturdy door at the back of the shop and battered his way through.
Seconds later, when the shop burst forth in a fiery holocaust, the two were just out of reach, racing up into the night sky suspended from his Grapple Gun. She clung to him as they flew, knowing he could feel her heart pounding against his chest, and wondering if he knew there was more than danger behind it. They slammed into the side of the building across the alley. There had been no time to take careful aim, or to brace for the impact.
“Are you all right?” he said when he had his wind back.
She looked up at him as they hung by the line, high above the inferno.
“Let’s go again,” she breathed.
Not far away, another form hung from a grapple line. Constable Parker looked at the street five stories down and wondered which would be more difficult – getting down from here, or explaining any of this to Chief O’Mally.
Eleven
Andy Parker sat in his darkened apartment, the icepack in his hands pressed against his temples. The entire evening had seemed like a dream, and he didn’t know at all what to make of it. There was little doubt in his mind that Satchel Braun and his mysterious henchmen had entered the grocery store with murder on their minds. It seemed just as certain that the shopkeeper, Mister Northcott, would have gone up in flames with his shop were it not for the intervention of the Red Panda and the Flying Squirrel. But given the destruction that he had witnessed, there was little doubt in his mind that Chief O’Mally was right about the need for leverage over these mysterious figures.
