by Dan Swanson
As they moved through the store, the two super-heroines and the reporter passed a display of weapons. The edged weapons were locked behind glass, but there was a display rack holding fighting sticks and a bamboo sword, also known as a shinai. Palette picked up the shinai, liked the feel, and carried it with her. Miss Music wasn’t interested in any of the weapons, nor was Phoenix Barrow.
“Rather use my fists,” he said, making a couple of jabs, before proudly continuing. “Battling Phoenix, with fists of thunder, they call me!”
“As we go down the stairs, the basement opens out on our left,” Palette whispered. “Careful! There’s no railing. Miss Music will go first.”
“Hey!” the Phonic Protector interrupted, quietly but emphatically. “I thought it was your turn to go first!”
“You’re the smallest, the toughest target, and you can move fastest — that’s why…” Palette started to explain, but Phoenix interrupted her.
“Not a chance, girls. I’m going first.”
Both women turned toward him and turned him down flat. “No way!”
“When you get powers, then you can go first.”
Phoenix Barrow wore a look of defiance; he wasn’t going to let two girls rush into danger ahead of him.
“I have a better idea, Al… er… Palette,” Miss Music interjected quickly, before her partner could start another argument with the reporter. I really need a simpler nickname for her in situations like this, she reflected to herself. She added aloud, “Suppose we do a flash and clash, before we dash?”
“What’s a flash and clash?” Phoenix asked, perplexed.
“Just a little trick we’ve worked out,” Miss Music replied cryptically. “Think of it as an explosion on demand, but without destroying everything. Flash and clash, without the crash.” She winked at him. “Just make sure you cover your ears.”
“That’s a great idea, Tuneful Titan,” Palette agreed, smiling. “The rear wall of the basement is over there.” She projected a dimly glowing line on the floor of the store, indicating the location of the basement wall below. “I’ll put the flash right in the middle of that wall, and you make the big noise in the same place. On three…”
“Hold it!” Phoenix interrupted again. “People live around here; if you set off an explosion, even one that doesn’t wreck the building, someone’s bound to call the police. I’m not anxious to have to explain to an angry cop what we’re doing in someone’s store in the middle of the night, big story or not.”
Neither of the heroines was interested in bringing in the police yet, either. “You think just a flash will be enough?” Miss Music asked. She knew that working through an obstacle such as the floor of the store limited the power of Palette’s illusions.
“I’ll make it as bright as I can, and that ought to daze them, whoever they are, for a few seconds at least,” Palette replied. “Go when I say ‘go.’ Three… two… one… go!” For an instant, flaring light leaked under and around the door, then Phoenix Barrow jerked it open, and Miss Music led the charge down the stairs.
A single naked lightbulb dangling from the ceiling dimly lit a grotesque scene: Lei Chiu was sprawled facedown on a tabletop, his back covered with bleeding welts. Around the table were four very large, bald Asian men, wearing black T-shirts, black sweatpants, and sandals. One of these men had a whip. They had all been dazed by the brilliant flash of light Palette had created. There was no sign of the Desert Cat statuette anywhere. The dim shapes of the furnace, boiler, and unknown other stuff lurked in the background.
Halfway down the stairs, Miss Music let out her traditional battle cry, “YAAA-HOOO-OOO! Gangway! Comin’ through!” as she dived at the man with the whip, who started to turn in the direction of her yell.
She curled up into a ball, did a half-flip, and uncoiled, kicking her legs powerfully to full extension, just as she crashed into the man’s chest. He flew violently backward and crashed into a second man, and they crashed to the floor in a tangle.
The Audible Ace landed easily, using her momentum to rush forward. Before they could get untangled, the Tuneful Titan kicked the first man jarringly in the jaw, then focused the pealing of a dozen church bells, amplified to stunning power, directly into one ear of the second man. As her first opponent fell to the floor unconscious, the second screamed and slammed his hands to his ears, then collapsed himself, clawing weakly at his head. A few seconds of sound had left him dazed and confused.
By now, Palette was down the stairs and running toward one of the remaining men. Hearing her coming, he launched a blind punch in her direction. She managed to swerve enough to avoid the blow, and as she moved past him, she swung her elbow viciously to the small of his back. He straightened up and grunted, then swiveled in her direction, dropping smoothly into a martial arts fighting stance, legs apart and bent, arms held up in front of him.
Even partially squatting, her foe was still taller than she was, and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Palette slapped him in the head with her shinai. He roared in anger and reached for the bamboo sword with both hands, until she stepped in and kicked him powerfully between the legs. As he screamed in pain and doubled over in agony, she stepped back and lifted her knee into his chin with a sickening CRACK. He collapsed to the floor like a bag of flour.
Phoenix Barrow was approaching the fourth man cautiously, his hands high in the traditional boxing position, leading with his right. His opponent seemed to have recovered at least partially from the flash, and launched a roundhouse kick at the reporter. Phoenix ducked and blocked the kick upward with the back of his right wrist, and winced in pain — it felt as if he’d been whacked with a police nightstick. His attacker smoothly continued spinning until he was once again facing in Phoenix’s direction.
Cautiously, Phoenix stepped forward and launched a right jab. He struck his opponent squarely in the chest, with almost no effect. He followed up with a left to the jaw, and the black-clad fighter’s head snapped back, forcing him back a step.
Phoenix stepped forward and tried to launch a one-two combination at the man’s stomach, only to find he’d been set up. The fighter moved like a striking snake and snatched the reporter’s right wrist before Phoenix could withdraw. The big man stepped backward and yanked, dragging Phoenix stumbling forward. The fighter spun and threw Phoenix into the table where Lei Chiu was strapped down. The reporter crashed over the table, and his foe ran off, smashing through a door that led to an outside stairway.
Miss Music quickly helped Phoenix to his feet. “Fists of thunder, huh?” she mocked him. “We’re going after the guy that ran away!” she said to him hurriedly. As she raced up the outside stairs after her partner, her final words drifted back to him: “You untie Lei Chiu and catch up with us!”
With their combination of enhanced night vision and enhanced hearing, it wasn’t difficult for the AV Team to track the panting fighter. They caught up with him just as he was trying to open the locked back door of a building across the alley from the Far Eastern Treasures basement door. He turned and sneered at his pursuers. “Mess with me, an’ you die!” he snarled.
“Sure, whatever you say, big fella,” Palette laughed. “But how are you going to kill somebody you can’t see?” She projected an illusion of darkness on his face, and he was blinded again.
“Want me to take him out, or do you want to play with him for a while?” Miss Music asked. At that instant, the door behind the villain opened.
“That will not be necessary, young lady,” said a small, wizened woman in a high-pitched, wavering voice. She was wearing an elegant silk robe, colored a subdued purple, embroidered with golden sinographs. She turned to the thug and snapped at him in Chinese, her voice as sharp as a pistol shot. He came to stiff attention.
She turned to Palette. “Release him, young woman!” she commanded. “He will bother you no more.” Miss Music watched the man closely, ready to blast him, as Palette cautiously cancelled her illusion, but the man remained rigidly at attention.
At that moment, Phoenix Barrow showed up, supporting a limping, bloody Lei Chiu. “Who’s that?” he asked when he saw the old woman.
Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the old woman turned back to the thug. “Begone!” Before either of the heroines could make a move to stop him, he vanished down the street. She turned back to the others, raised her hand, and pointed accusingly at Lei Chiu. “This man has sinned gravely!”
When she saw that she had everyone’s attention, she continued, anger crackling in her wavering voice. “I am a priestess at the Temple of the Jade Emperor in the town of Temo Wula Gacha in China. Some time ago, a band of thieves stole a sacred relic from my temple, a large gem of carved jade from the belly of the Idol of the Emperor. I tracked the jewel to Shanghai, where it passed into the possession of this man.” Again, she pointed at Lei Chiu. “I followed him here, and hired some local help to track him down and recover the gem. I can see that my hired minions were somewhat… overzealous. I told them no harm should befall the thief. For this, I apologize.”
At that moment, Liling Kam walked out of the fog, carrying the statuette of the Desert Cat. “Is this true, Lei Chiu?” Like that of the priestess, her voice snapped like a bullet shot. “How dare you soil my name and my honor by receiving stolen goods when on business for me?!”
Moving more quickly than anyone could have expected, based on his beaten and bloody appearance, Lei Chiu pulled out a small pistol concealed in his pants. “No one move!” he panted loudly. He took the Desert Cat from Liling. “Is true,” he continued. It took a while, as speech was painful for him with all his cuts and welts, but he told his story.
For years, Lei Chiu had cooperated with a smuggling ring, receiving stolen goods in Shanghai, secreting them within merchandise he had purchased for Far Eastern Treasures, and counting on Liling Kam’s reputation for honorable dealing to get his merchandise through Customs at both ends without close inspections. And he’d gotten away with it for years, until now. The jade gem from the Idol of the Emperor had been concealed in the Desert Cat statuette that Liling had given to a customer, but Lei Chiu had recovered that statuette earlier this night.
“Normally, I turn loot over to gang here. They pay me — but not pay enough. This most valuable gem, I keep and sell for much money.” He started backing away into the fog. A shot rang out, and he fell to the ground, struck from behind. The Cat statuette was smashed and shattered as he fell.
A trio of men, dressed in trenchcoats and fedoras pulled low over their eyes, each holding a pistol, stepped out of the gloomy darkness. With all eyes on the men with guns, nobody noticed Lei Chiu crawl painfully to the shattered cat statuette and start scrabbling through the shards. In the background, distorted by the fog, a police siren began to wail.
“There’s nobody else out there, just the three we can see, Alex. Let’s take ’em!” Miss Music projected her whisper into Palette’s ear.
Palette shook her head almost imperceptibly and whispered, so softly that no one other than the Sonic Superstar could hear her, “Wait.”
“I figgered the little #^@%!%& was gonna turn traitor on us for that gem. Well, nobody steals from Stony Mason!”
“C’mon, Stony, let’s beat it outta here. Da cops are on da way,” another of the hoods urged his boss.
“Know this, sinners! The curse of the Jade Emperor descends upon all those who dare steal from him,” the voice of the priestess rang out, stern and powerful, sounding almost like a chant, echoing weirdly in the fog around them.
“Shut up, ya old bag!” said the hood closest to the priestess. He shifted his pistol to his other hand and started to swing a vicious backhand at the old lady, but Phoenix Barrow grabbed his arm.
Miss Music attacked at that instant, blasting Stony Mason with the old incredibly loud peal of church bells directly in the ear trick, and he screamed in pain, jerking his hands toward his head.
“Yahoo!” she yelled as she ran up to him and leaped, head-butting his exposed jaw.
Mason staggered backward, and the Audible Ace rushed him, knocking him down, and leaped onto his chest. She winced as his head hit the wall behind him before he slumped to the ground. She was ready to continue the fight, but the head hood was out cold. Hoping he wasn’t seriously hurt, she turned to help her partner.
A blinding flash exploded silently an inch or so from the eyes of the third hood, and he screamed with pain that felt like a knife stabbing through his eye into his brain. His pistol fired wildly as he wrenched his hands to his face. Palette stepped in and punched with a roundhouse left to the stomach, squealing with pain when she struck his belt buckle. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around the thug, forcing him to stumble backward.
Miss Music hurried over and positioned herself behind him on her hands and knees, and when he staggered into her, his knees buckled, and he fell heavily backward. The Luminous Legend landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. Palette adjusted her position so that she was sitting on his chest, while Miss Music kicked his pistol away, then stood over them in case he had any fight left.
As Liling Kam grabbed the other arm of the hood who was grappling with Phoenix Barrow, the old priestess suddenly surprised everyone.
“Kiai!” the priestess yelled, and launched a powerful side-kick, stretching to her limit to reach the man’s exposed solar plexus. He bent over almost double, gasping for breath.
Phoenix stepped behind him and pushed, driving the man forward and down, forcing him to sprawl on the pavement. As Liling and the priestess jumped on his back, Phoenix jumped forward and ripped the pistol from the man’s hand. He then rapped the man, not too gently, on the temple with the pistol barrel. “Hey, buddy — time to give up!”
Everyone was startled when Lei Chiu screamed in rage and pain. “Not here! All for nothing…” He sobbed once and slumped to the ground amid the remains of the Desert Cat, unconscious.
“All right, nobody move! Except you, buddy — drop the gun!” A half-dozen policemen stepped out of the gloom, all with guns drawn.
Phoenix carefully extended his hand, displaying the pistol dangling from a two-fingered hold on the grip, then bent down slowly and placed it on the ground.
“Anyone care to tell me what the heck is going on here?” Detective McMillan asked loudly.