Hero Museum: Dragon's Teeth

Mr. Snow walked through the displays, smiling at the way things had turned out. He and his assistant had worked wonders in the month they had been given to set things up. There was still some fine tuning that needed to be done, but now that the main pieces were set, the minor ones shouldn't be a problem.

He paused in front of a long tooth on a velvet pillow under glass. The tooth was a rust red as if from dried blood, and about as long as his index finger. A friend had given it to him years ago, and he had learned its history when he had dug into the heroic history of the world.

His friend had found it in Cutter Bay while working on a demolition crew. It had been laying in an air duct for a long time before he had ripped the works out. Once he saw it, he had known that Snow would love to get it.

It was exactly what the other man collected.

Snow had kept it, not realizing what it meant until he had seen evidence pictures of similar teeth collected by the Ringbearer decades earlier. He had a theory, but didn't want to test it out.

The original owner of the teeth had used them to form armies under his control. He had attacked Cutter Bay and its defenders until the Ringbearer had tracked him down and stopped him. He had died in prison during the sixties. The secret of his teeth had gone to the grave with him.

Snow thought the teeth became the army. No one else had suggested the idea as far as he could tell. They were marked as curiosities found in his lair. And as far as the curator knew, no one had checked to see where the rest of the teeth had gone.

Snow had found three more in the years he had been searching. He kept them locked in the safe behind his office. The authorities could do the search better perhaps, but he didn't trust them. Rumors of heroes and villains the government didn't like being held against their will always surfaced and ran among the conspiracy buffs for a while before dying down and starting all over.

Snow found the idea believable and supported by some odd facts he had dug up about something called Project Z. Supposedly the government had used this Project as a cover for rogue operations during the fifties and sixties. Freedom of Information requests came back more black lines than actual type.

Snow felt that Project Z had been out there, and had ties to at least a half dozen heroes at that time. He just couldn't find out what had happened. Evidently the program had been scrapped for something else, something still operating in the world.

That brought him back to the tooth in the case.

Snow had checked everything he could about the villain who was associated with them, the heroes that had battled him, the crimes that had been carried out. A picture of the Ring in his tuxedo and mask, smiling at the camera, had been placed on a stand next to the display case.

Snow stood at the display case, looking at the tooth, lost in thought. Maybe he should devote more energy in tracking down the rest. The museum should educate people about the heroes and villains that no longer roamed the streets, forgotten by almost all except for watchers like himself. But it shouldn't alert people to things that might be dangerous and still roaming around.

Some people had a tendency for digging up things better left undisturbed in their graves.

Snow wasn't one of them.

He preferred that ghouls should be kept as far away from his skin as possible.

Snow looked around at the other display cases. Perhaps he should move this one back to the rear of the group. He didn't want to alert potential troublemakers, but he didn't want the tooth so visible that someone tried to walk away with it.

The items weren't that valuable in themselves, but he had seen enough troublemakers to force himself to consider the options. He didn't even know if the tooth still worked, or if it worked like he supposed. He looked around the room again as he thought about the item's history.

Cutter Bay gleamed in the spring of 56. The sun reflected off the ocean water, turning the Atlantic into burnished gold. Oliver Hunt and Donna Drake watched the sunset from an elevated walk overlooking the bay area.

"We should do this more." Donna smiled, brushing back her long black hair. "We seem to always be busy."

"I agree." Oliver Hunt wrapped his arm around her waist. "Hopefully things will die down for a while. We need a break from the grind."

"Maybe we should take off for a while, visit my folks." Donna looked up at his face.

"I get the feeling they disapprove of me." Hunt grinned. "I think they want us to marry and have a dozen kids."

"You've stolen their little girl and we're living a life of sin." Donna laughed. "You, sir, are a cad."

"I confess that I'm a cad." Oliver laughed too. It felt good.

"Let's eat at that place on the water." Donna stood on tiptoe, and kissed him. "Candlelight and a band would be romantic."

Hunt swept her around. He didn't know in three years he would be burying her, telling her parents that he hadn't protected her when she needed him, that he would step away from his responsibility as a ringbearer. The ring gave him superhuman abilities but didn't let him see the future.

Then they were in love, and a night out without trouble, then love when they returned home would be the perfect thing. The grim future would march on without their knowing what it held.

"A dinner with a beautiful lady is always romantic in my book." Hunt put his love down on her two feet. "I love you, honey."

"I love you too." Donna brushed her hair back. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You would have been a movie star." Hunt held her waist as they headed down the sidewalk to where their car waited in a lot. "Or someone else famous by now."

"You are such a flatterer." Donna smiled. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only to the extraordinarily beautiful ones." Hunt smiled back. Nothing could go wrong with a day like the one they had been having.

The couple reached their car, got in, and Hunt took to the streets. It was a drive around from the beach where they had been standing to the restaurant where they wanted to eat. They had the chance to admire the sailboats and cabin cruisers coming in from the sea as they went.

Hunt pulled into the beach lot surrounding the restaurant, looking around. He felt a sense of anticipation for trouble coming from somewhere close by. His vision revealed sailors going about their businesses.

Donna took his arm, leading him to the restaurant. She sensed his sudden withdrawal but said nothing. She had known he had been picked to be a hero. She knew that he had searched the globe and returned with the ring on his hand as his engine. Nothing she could say or do could change that.

And she didn't want to change the outcome of all the little steps they had taken together. That would refute everything they had gone through before finally returning to Cutter Bay.

"Something wrong?" She held the door for him as he took one last look around.

"I had the feeling that something was about to happen, but it's fading." Hunt smiled. "It looks like today will be the exception that proves the rule."

"The exception?" Donna went to the inner door that opened to the foyer where they would have to wait to be seated. Hunt was at her elbow.

"We couldn't get one day to ourselves without problems." Hunt looked around for a maitre de. "Today is the day that is the exception to the rule."

"Don't tempt fate." Donna walked to meet their usher. "The day isn't over yet."

"How many?" The thin man in a tuxedo reached for two menus in covers after Donna told him it was just the two of them. He led them to a table that overlooked the beach and ocean outside, handing the menus over. "A waiter will be with you momentarily."

The couple discussed choices as the waiter arrived with two glasses of iced water. He placed them down in front of the diners with a small flourish. He pulled a pad to take their order, checked to see if they were ready, then wrote down everything with a pen before walking away.

"That was fast service." Donna pushed the menus to one side. "The fastest I can recall ever seeing."

"Let's hope their cooking can match up with what we've seen so far." Oliver looked out to sea, glad that his feeling had passed. "If it does, this might be my new favorite place to eat."

"I wonder if they cater parties." Donna looked across the restaurant dining room. "The waiters seem to be handling everybody else's orders fast enough."

Hunt turned to share her view. Waiters in black suits roved the floor, trays and pitchers in hand. No customer lacked their food, or replaced drink. He had picked the right place after all.

This had to be the best ran place he had ever stepped into. And better than that, watching the activity took his mind off what he had felt earlier completely.

Milos Kankarides looked at the city from the bow of his boat. A smile crossed his thin face as he measured the distance to the docks waiting for him. His crew performed exactly to the letter, with grace and efficiency. It had only taken him an hour to show them the rudiments of sailing and they had performed better than he had expected.

Milos looked at the other boats sharing the water with him. It would be so easy to sail over and have his crew take them. Only what would he do with a fleet of sail boats? He could do better than that.

Milos pointed at the empty slip for his sailors. The wheelman nodded his blank head. A cap helped conceal his strange pallor from anyone looking at the sailboat. The same went for the rest of the crew.

Milos nodded as they furled the sails and dropped anchor just in time to drift into the slip without problems. He had taught them well from the looks of things. Now he had to make arrangements for work. He hoped he didn't have to demonstrate their real purpose before he was ready.

It had been a long time since Milos had hurt someone.

Still he needed money, and this was the only way to get it as far as he was concerned. He planned to do a few jobs and then return to Greece. He could use the money to return to his retirement. He had never expected to be in this position again.

Milos stepped on the dock. He looked around. No one was near.

"I'm going to look for my cousin." He pointed into Cutter Bay. "I want you to stay here and guard the boat. No one gets on. If you have to, sail out into the ocean and return in two days time."

The men with no faces saluted with hands over their barrel chests. Then they took up station to wait for his return.

Milos hoped his men would not cause trouble. They had a limited intelligence and followed orders without thought of consequences like machines. He did know they would sail out to sea and return as ordered. They could be counted on to do that.

Milos walked down the dock, looking at the boats in the other slips as he went. Some were in better shape than his own sloop, some worse. He wouldn't trade his vessel for any of them.

Milos paused at the gate, signing in with the harbor master station. He winced at the rent he was charged for the slip but put it down to operating expenses. You can't make money without spending some.

Unfortunately he had spent over half of his roll on that one expense. It was a good thing his men didn't eat.

Milos walked into the city, mapping possible routes back to his boat as he went. His cousin expected him the next day. Walking let him know the city better, and gave him time to think. Mainly it delayed the inevitable conversation they were going to have about what they wanted to do.

His cousin had established himself in the black market years ago during the war, and had flourished by keeping his head down. It made Milos wonder why he had decided to change his methods. Something must be wrong with his business now.

Why else call Milos in Greece to ask him for help?

Milos checked the directions he had written down on a brown piece of paper. He had reached his first landmark. Now he could take in his cousin's environment without notice. He had a feeling that was important since he didn't know what was going on.

Too many questions meant something had caught fire.

Milos didn't want to get caught in anything that prevented his leaving for home. His family depended on him to make his money and return.

Not to mention the Dragon's Teeth were dangerous when left alone too long.

Milos walked down the street, looking at the restaurants, the homes, but mostly looking at the addresses on the doors.

Oliver Hunt paused in the middle of the road two days after the dinner at the beach. He looked to his left, reading a great deal of confusion and puzzlement. A crowd of cops stood in front of a jewelry store looking the place over.

Hunt checked his watch. He had plenty of time before he had to be at his next appointment. Maybe he should go over and ask what was the problem. His Ring gear rested in the trunk, ready to be used.

Hunt pulled into a parking lot down the street. He went to the trunk and pulled out the package of clothes. He closed the lid and stood in an alley seconds later. He tied a mask around his face. He put his civilian things in the trunk in a flicker of a second before going down the street to talk to the police that had aroused his curiosity.

Anything that caused the police in Cutter Bay to blink could mean a challenge that he had to accept.

Hunt had undergone a series of challenges to piece the ring together. He had traveled around the world, met some incredible people and fought some things that needed to be put down. He was the ringbearer, and the ring wanted to be used.

"Hello, officers." Hunt put on his smile to help his reputation. He had become known as something of an Errol Flynn swashbuckler. He didn't see the need to disabuse anyone of that notion. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't know, Ring." The senior man there, a veteran named Flaherty scratched his red hair. "The lieutenant is in there trying to figure it out, and he has been stomping around for a while."

"Maybe I should talk to him." Hunt's smile grew broader. "After all I've become something of an expert on weird problems the last few years."

"Ain't that the truth?" Flaherty huddled with his brother cops on the street. The loud whispering finally came to a conclusion. The Ring was bound to get involved anyway, why not help him out and see how that worked. "Let me go in and talk to the lieutenant. Maybe that will get him off our backs for a little bit."

"Go ahead, Flaherty." Hunt made a wave with one hand. "I can wait for a short while before having to get to my other business."

The beat cop stepped inside the store, careful to stay beside the door. Hunt heard a buzzsaw snarl inside the shop. The patrolman pointed outside through the glass. Another snarl of gibberish sounded. Flaherty opened the door.

"Come inside, Ring." Flaherty lowered his voice as he held the door. "He's in a bad mood all right."

"I'll only look around for two minutes, Flaherty." The Ring stepped inside. "That should be enough to discover some kind of clue."

"Hello, Mr. Big Shot Super Hero." Lieutenant Kurtzman glared at the smiling man in a tuxedo and mask. "Flaherty says you already know who did it and how."

Hunt looked around the store, letting the ring expand his sight as he turned his head left to right.

"I don't know who yet." Hunt walked around the display cases, emptied of the rings and necklaces that would be on the small purple cushions. "I think I know how."

"Really, smart guy?" Kurtzman glared at the taller man, hands in his coat pockets as he followed Hunt to the back of the room. "I like to see how."

"They came in through the vents." Hunt knew his explanation needed some kind of proof to back it up. "Let me show you. You got a screwdriver on you?"

"I got a pocket knife." Kurtzman pulled a pocket knife out of his pants' pocket, and pulled out a shorter blade that should fit the screws.

"This thread doesn't match the rest of the store." Hunt showed Kurtzman the threads he had spotted from across the room with the pocket knife before he went to work on the screws. Several seconds of work and the vent cover came off the wall. Inside were more threads. "This is how your perpetrator got in and out of the store. The ventilation is smaller than a child so I don't know how they managed that."

"You saw those threads from way cross the room?" Kurtzman took the knife back. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I have excellent vision." Hunt smiled. "I can see things across the city if the day is clear."

"Let's say you're right." Kurtzman calmed as he considered the implications of a new villain in town. "Nobody in Cutter Bay can shrink as far as I know, or stretch through the duct work."

"I agree with you." Hunt smiled as he handed the threads over to be put in a bag. "It has to be someone new, or from out of town. I'll see what I can find out for you."

"Gee thanks." Kurtzman glowered at the masked ringbearer. "I'll sleep better knowing that you're out there doing my job."

Milos Kankarides sat across from his cousin. He wondered how the man could eat like he did. It was making the Greek sick just looking at it. The owner of the Dragon Teeth sipped his wine and waited for his kinsman to deliver the news.

"The police are stumped about how you robbed the store." Mark Milan smiled with a face more like a bull dog's than a man. "Friends in the department tell me that Kurtzman is chewing himself up in frustration."

"Don't be so confident that this Kurtzman won't be able to figure things out." Milos frowned. "Even an idiot will learn if he tries often enough."

"I'm not worried about him." Milan pushed his stack of empty plates from in front of his wide chest. "It's this Ringbearer guy. If we tangle with anyone, it's going to be him. He's the local masked man on the scene."

"I understand." Milos frowned even more. Masked men had appeared over the years since the war in sporadic waves. He had even dealt with some in Europe. He planned to avoid this particular one until he was done with his job. "He will not interfere with the completion of my tasks."

"I have your share of the take right here." Milan pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. "I already have the jewelry broken up and sent to someone I know in California. Couple more jobs like that and you can go back to the old country a rich man."

"Good." Milos put his wine glass down. He counted the money in the envelope with his thumb along the edges. "What is the next target?"

"There are a couple of high dollar places you can hit." Milan removed the cloth napkin from his collar. "I'll get the plans in a day or two so you can plan the job."

"The quicker, the better." Milos put the money away and stood. A smile crossed his face as he thought of being done and going home. "I need to get back home as soon as possible."

"Don't worry." Milan dabbed at his round face with the napkin. "The next job should easily net you half of the remainder of the money you want. I can't see how it won't."

"Things happen." Milos nodded to his expansive cousin. "I will see you again here in two days."

"I'll have the plans by then." Milan stood, his chair creaking in relief. "Take care of yourself, cousin."

Milos nodded. He turned and walked through the dining room to the front of the small restaurant. His cousin owned several in Cutter Bay that he used for planning the types of enterprises that the sailor had decided to carry out. Soon he would be on his way home after doing as much as he needed to do and not a thing more.

Milos stepped out on the street, nodding to the crewman he had left standing guard. He didn't trust his cousin at all. He was a tool that the fat man would discard at the first chance. They both hid that understanding so they could work together, but the sailor didn't try to fool himself that there was a blood bond between them.

He also didn't pretend that he wouldn't use his dragon men to exact revenge on Milan if his plan was less than perfect.

Milos walked down the street. He felt his crewman walking far behind him. He didn't plan to let Milan know where he had established his temporary residence. There was no telling who could find that out with a careful eye on his cousin. It was better that he didn't know.

And the dragon tooth man walking far behind him had an eye out for anyone trying to follow them as they made their way to the waterfront to board the boat and sail back into the ocean. He felt better on the ocean while he waited.

It gave him the illusion of security from prying eyes.

Milos smiled when he saw the water in the distance. Soon he would be on his natural element, planning his next move. He needed to call home and have a message delivered to his wife. If his cousin was right, he might be home earlier than expected.

The only potential hazard he foresaw was this Ringbearer that Mark had mentioned. Masked men lived by their own code. He expected the masked man to try and bring him in if he could. He would have to be on guard against the vigilante until his mission was completed.

Extra care should not be that much of a burden if he wanted to succeed and return to his home in Greece.

Milos reached the dock area where his boat should be waiting. He spotted it almost immediately. The crew standing on deck and glaring at anything that approached too close was a dead giveaway. He smiled as the dragon teeth relaxed when they saw him coming down the wooden planks. He climbed aboard, moving to look out to sea. His bodyguard climbed on board a minute later, shaking his head at his master.

No one had followed them from the meeting.

"Take us out to sea." Milos stood in the stern as his crew untied the mooring lines and turned the engines on to back out of the slip.

He needed time to think without others nearby to distract him.

Oliver Hunt dealt with the minutiae of life while he waited for the next act to happen. There was nothing that he could do that the police weren't already doing. And their manpower meant they could do it better than he could.

That didn't stop him from using his vision to scan the city while he waited. If he could see the guy working, he could show up to hand him over to the police. After all, most villains didn't stop until they had a sizable bankroll.

Of course most spent their money as fast as it came in.

Hunt didn't have an idea what drove this new villain. It could be money, could be the challenge, could be any number of things. And until he figured that out, his job would be a little harder to do. Still there were other things he could use to try and catch his quarry.

The first method was a careful inspection of the city from different places. His vision locked on any place he wanted. It was a hidden talent that he could use like a portable x-ray machine.

He knew it was a slim chance that he would actually see a crime being committed by this new burglar, but if he did see the man in the act, he could follow up on it. A phone call would get the police involved enough that they could search for the loot if they knew which place to search.

Secondly he had a list of the things stolen. The police had a search out for fences that could handle that amount of stolen jewelry. Checking those places for a ring, or necklace, that matched what was stolen could get the police in to see the whole inventory.

And lastly, he was asking people he had dealt with before for assistance in finding this mysterious thief. So far everyone agreed with his opinion it was a new presence. No one knew anything so far.

Hunt hoped this constant pressure would flush something out in the open. He had stopped a slew of petty crimes while looking for this mysterious thief. The major criminal elements had decided to put things on hold while he was out on the street. He hoped that sooner or later someone would break out and tell him something useful.

Eventually he would have to scale back his searching. He couldn't keep up his efforts indefinitely. No one could.

"Still working on your jewelry case, Oliver?" Donna read invitations to various balls and charity events while sitting at her desk. Some she discarded right away. Some of the letters were put aside to answer when she was finished reading.

"Yes." Oliver stood on the balcony of their apartment, looking out over the city. "No one knows anything."

"I'm sure someone knows something." Donna started to throw one of the invitations away, but then put it aside. "Maybe this thief is wanted somewhere else."

"Kurtzman would have broadcasted a positive identification." Oliver swept his gaze along in a quarter circle. "He would have positively crowed about it."

"Maybe no one will call him back with answers to his inquiries." Donna wrote a quick reply to an inquiry. "Didn't you once tell me that rivalries kept back information?"

"It's possible that someone in the government might have dealt with this crook before." Oliver thought about the likelihood of that occurrence. "They certainly wouldn't have told Kurtzman."

"How would you pry it out of their hands?" Donna smiled.

"I'll talk to Kurtzman first." Oliver nodded at the potential new lead. "Maybe he knows someone he can ask a favor. If that doesn't work, we could send inquiries to other police departments overseas. Thanks, Hon."

"Thank me after you know something." Donna smiled wider. "I think someone does know something you can use. You just have to find him first."

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Hunt went to change into the tuxedo and mask he wore as the Ringbearer.

"Good." Donna stood, hugged and kissed him as he passed. "I'll be waiting for you."

"I'll hurry." Hunt smiled, lightened by the thought of a thing to do besides wait.

Hunt quickly changed into his other identity's clothes, used the stairs to get down to the garage, and drove off in the car he usually used during his vigilante activities. He kept the mask out of sight until he was close enough to walk to police headquarters. He put it on, then left his car parked in a lot while he used a couple of back alleys to get to the old brick building that housed the city's detectives as they went about their businesses.

He decided to use a window to get in the building instead of trying to walk in the front door. Kurtzman was already going to be angry to see him. Arriving with fanfare would only madden him further.

Hunt didn't want to do that unless he had to. He didn't have any right to interfere with a police investigation. He just did in the interests of helping out. Some cops didn't like that at all.

Hunt saw a window he could use and started for it.

The First National Bank looked out of place with its old fashioned fronting in the middle of the other financial institutions that dotted the banking district of Cutter Bay. It had survived almost a hundred years virtually untouched by the perils and problems that had crushed lesser banks.

The invader in its guts was about to change all that and end a record of which to be proud. The master of the Teeth wanted finances. His soldiers were going to get that. No security could stop them if they had the right plan.

The soldier had entered the vent system after climbing the outside of the building to get to the roof. Then it had patiently crawled down to watch the day to day operations of the bank. It paid special attention to the closing and opening of the vault. Later years would add cameras, and time locks. Right then, the job looked ridiculously easy to the tiny thing.

The soldier memorized everything it could. Once it exited, it could give all of its knowledge to the other servants. They would experience what he had which made it seem as if they had also been there watching. Then they would return and empty out the vault of everything valuable.

The bank closed right on time. The manager and clerks counted their money, balanced their books, and locked everything away for the next day. Then they would take everything out in the morning, recount it, and set up for the next batch of customers. The tiny man paid attention to the procedures. One of the jobs would have to be turning any alarms off. It would need to know that.

Security guards settled in as the staff left, watching the locked safe. The tiny soldier made a note that the two men barely walked the lobby. That was perfect.

The raiders could assemble on an upper floor and work their way down to take the guards by surprise. An alarm went to police headquarters. The element of surprise would keep it from being pushed. The guards would have to be subdued without harming them.

The master had already ordered that there be no killing. The dragon men accepted that order like any other. They had no feelings other than wanting to fight, to move, to experience things. If a human lived, or died, it didn't matter as long as they had orders to carry out.

And the dragon man looked forward to the next stage with anticipation. Gathering intelligence fitted in with the way the master liked to do things, but it wasn't exactly what any of the moving teeth thought as exciting.

They preferred dealing with things with their hands without thinking about how to get to where they could get their hands around someone's neck. They just didn't have the temperament to focus on long range planning.

The tiny spy made his way back through the ducts. It was time to report what it saw. The master would make his decision based on the information gathered. A stealthy sneak attack seemed to be the way the master would take care of things.

It took some minutes before the animated thing reached the roof. It could slide down and use a taxi to get a lift back to the docks. Then the problem could be gone over with its ability to draw simple maps.

The spy used the crevices in the walls to get to the ground. It cautiously moved down the sidewalk to get by the pedestrians on the street. The docks were a long way away from where he stood. He hoped he didn't have to deal with another child.

The spy saw an idling automobile at the curve. The driver checked his watch as the tooth crept up on the rear door. The tiny golem waited until the coast was clear before crawling into the frame of the cab from underneath. It had a good idea of where the docks were. It could ride until it reached home.

Then the planning could begin on how to carry out the coming operation. The dragon's teeth had been performing these exact types of services for their masters for a long time. They very rarely failed. This time should be no different.

The tooth rode on the taxi for a while. It transferred to another car when the cab turned too much away from the beach's direction. That took it within a few miles of its goal. Then it rode on a delivery truck to the piers serving commercial shipping moving up and down the coast. One more transfer dropped it within feet of the right dock's entrance. It walked out on the wooden pier toward the master's boat.

One of the servants waited by the bow line. A pale hand picked the spy up and put it on the deck of the boat. The master stood in the bow, tugging on his captain's cap against the coming night wind.

"Let's go in." The master indicated his cabin below deck. "I want to know everything you have gathered."

The assembly went below, the master looking at the other slips before clearing the deck last. The bow man stood outside watching for anybody who might stray too close. Its brothers would tell it what the plan was when it was ready to be carried out.

Its guard duty was all that mattered until it was called on for other things.

Oliver Hunt and Lt. Kurtzman waited impatiently for the answers to their inquiries. In that age before widespread information sharing, they didn't expect much. Still if one agency sent something they could use back to them, it would have been worth the hours they waited for the calls.

Two calls came through the switchboard for the detective's office. The first came from someone in the Department of Defense, the successor of the Department of War. They didn't have much information to give, the salient facts of the conversation being they wanted a report from the Cutter Bay Police Department if they caught the guy, and rumors of something called a golem being used during the war and after were floating around. A large concentration circled Greece and her islands.

The second was from Interpol. The international police had files of similar robberies in the Mediterranean area. Long periods separated the strings but the methods were virtually the same to each other, and the robberies afflicting Cutter Bay.

They were vital clues that pointed to an origin to the menace, if not where he was at the moment. Hunt sat and thought about what they had been told by their informants. Something about the connection to Greece drew his mind down paths of classical stories from his school days. He knew some of the legends were real. Could it be a Greek legend come to life that they were facing?

A Greek criminal would need help if he were operating in Cutter Bay. How well could he operate in a strange city on his own? Cutter Bay wasn't a New York, or Los Angeles, but it wasn't exactly small either. Who picked the targets?

That might be the thing they needed to crack the case. How could they use it?

"How many Greek criminals are there in the city?" Hunt didn't usually deal with street crime unless it happened right in front of him. "Do you know?"

"I don't know off hand." Kurtzman looked around his cluttered desk. "I can find out."

"I think that's where we have to look if we want to find this man." Hunt went back over his idea in his mind. "I also think he's more dangerous than he's shown so far."

"He's avoided robbing the places when they were open." Kurtzman produced a pad, started leafing through it. "He doesn't want a fight, so he's working around it with these clever burglaries."

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Hunt nodded. "He's refusing to go in when people can see him. Maybe there's something about him that can't be disguised, something that any civilian would recognize if they saw him again."

"I don't know, but I do know there's only two or three fences on Cyprus Row that can handle the jewelry that was taken." Kurtzman wrote down the names and addresses the best he could with a pen. "We can start watching them, maybe see if anyone has seen a new guy."

"I'll look into it." Hunt took the list and looked at the names. "If this super criminal is from Greece, he had to get here somehow. If you can find that while I'm asking questions, maybe we can round up both of them."

"International flights and shipping." Kurtzman made a couple of notes. "From Europe, specifically from Greece. There must be thousands that will fit that."

"Look for men traveling alone with some kind of noticeable disfigurement." Hunt went to the window. He half-smiled. "Maybe that will net something we can use to track our nameless friend down."

"Good idea." Kurtzman added that to his notes. "It will probably be a big list to work up and sort through. The time should be easy enough. He probably didn't get in town that much earlier than the first robbery if he's a pro like we think. Maybe one, two, days to meet his contact, then maybe two days to case the place, then the actual robbery. A normal thief would maybe take a couple of extra weeks to make sure he had it all down before he did the job."

"Also look for men old enough to have served in the war." Hunt thought about the call from the Department of Defense. "That might give us something."

"And who might be connected to Cyprus Row somehow." Kurtzman made another note. "I'll need to get a lot more men to get this done."

"I think that the Commissioner will authorize anything so this won't get out of hand." Hunt looked out on the alley below. "I'll call if I get a lead."

"How long do you think this guy will keep at it?" Kurtzman put his pad in his pants' pockets, and reached for his holster and suit jacket. "Interpol says he goes underground for years before operating again."

"I don't know." Hunt climbed out of the window. "We just have to do what we can. Be careful."

Kurtzman pulled on his jacket as he looked at the suddenly empty window. He walked over and looked around. The Ring had vanished with a snap of his fingers. The lieutenant closed the window and headed for the front desk. He needed to get as many people as he could to start looking for the Greek connection.

They needed to catch this guy before he went up in a puff of smoke.

Every detective knew his job meant legwork to track down leads. None liked to work on a job as big and boring as tracking passenger manifests for a month. Kurtzman took one more look at the lines of inquiry he had written down. He put the pad away before walking down to where the duty sergeant filed paperwork from people actually coming to the station to complain instead of trying to call.

He wondered what the old veteran would say when he asked for every able-bodied man to be called and told to report to work. He thought about it, and then got the sergeant started.

Oliver Hunt drove along Cyprus Row. He inspected the mansions behind their walls as he went. The names on his list were simply suspects. The police had never caught them with anything incriminating so they hadn't been able to make an arrest.

Luckily Hunt wasn't a police officer.

Hunt parked his car at the entrance to the closed network of streets. Eventually he would have to drive away, and he didn't want to have to run a gauntlet by trying to drive through the area after he asked his questions.

Bullet holes would be hard to explain to Donna.

Hunt got out, checking the first address. It was an easy thing for him to jump the wall, and cross the lawn. He knocked on the front door with the brass ring mounted on it. He waited, looking around. The door opened with a bruiser glaring down at him.

"I'm here to talk to your boss." Hunt smiled. "I'm looking into a phantom thief."

"Go away." The bruiser tried to shut the door in Hunt's face. "We don't want to talk to you."

Hunt caught the heavy wood with his foot. He stepped forward, pushing the door out of his way. The bigger man fell over, caught by surprise.

"We can do this the easy way in which I can a couple of questions and leave." Hunt grabbed the man's lapel and pulled him to his feet. "Or we can get into a shoving match and I will break you."

"Break this, smart guy." A huge fist swung at Hunt's head. The masked man barely moved his head out of the way. Hunt grabbed the guard's face and threw him outside. Then the Ringbearer closed and locked the door.

Hunt straightened his jacket and started walking around the house. He heard voices in the next room. A glance ahead told him that everyone was sitting down to dinner. He grimaced. He didn't want to get the family involved in this.

He paused at the door. Guards stood on either side of the entrance. He tapped one on the shoulder. When the man turned to see what was going on, he didn't expect to see a masked man holding a finger up in the sign for silence. He stepped out of the room.

"How you get in here?" The guard looked around. "Where's George?"

"I put him outside." Hunt tried to keep a friendly face on. "Would you mind if I talked to your boss for a second?"

"I don't know." The guard frowned as he thought about it. "I'll ask him."

"I'll wait." Brass knocking sounded from the front door. "I'll get that while I'm waiting."

Hunt walked over to the front door, opened it, saw George standing there, punched him in the gut. The guard sat down. He tried to get up but couldn't.

"Stay there out of trouble. I'll be done in a minute." Hunt closed the door again.

"What can I do for you?" The boss walked into the foyer with two of his guards. He was in his shirt sleeves, with his napkin still tucked in his collar.

"Hello, Mr. Tetropolous." Hunt stood by the door. "I just wanted to ask about a man who has set up shop and is committing burglaries here in the city."

"I'm just an olive importer." Tetropolous smiled. "What would I know about any burglaries?"

"Everyone knows you're the biggest fence in town." Hunt smiled at the twinge he saw. "I'm not really interested in that. I just want to know if you know this guy."

"I assure you that I don't know anything about a new player in town." The olive importer smiled. Hunt sensed he would try to find out after the ringbearer left. "I'll call the police if I hear anything."

"Thank you." Hunt opened the door. He stepped around the stricken George before closing the door behind him. "Being friendly prevents problems. Remember that."

Hunt headed for the wall. He still had two more houses to visit.

He doubted if the others would be as forthcoming as Mr. Tetropolous.

The Ringbearer jumped the wall, then walked down to the next address on his list. He jumped the wall there, said hello to the guard dogs, and then knocked on that door. His appearance had been amazing to the man who answered the knock. His shepherds were trained to rip intruders to pieces. A few seconds of conversation satisfied Hunt that the man he was looking for hadn't talked to the reclusive Melonis.

That left the last name on the list.

Hunt jumped down on the street and walked to the last gate on Cyprus Row. The guard at the gate refused him entrance. His boss was still in the city, having meetings with his business associates. He volunteered this information because Hunt had grabbed his neck and squeezed a little.

Hunt walked back to his car. He had a feeling that the word would be passed to Mark Milan so he could avoid trouble. It was debatable whether he would come home, or hole up in some safe house until things had blown over.

Hunt hoped he was the right man. He didn't relish the thought that a new fence had set up on the same day a new thief had hit town and started his spree. That would complicate things by an unknown factor.

Hunt got behind the wheel and drove away from Cyprus Row.

Milos waited in a car outside the bank. One of his teeth sat behind the wheel, ready to move out when ordered. A group remained on the boat. Another group was executing the plan as ordered.

Milos checked his watch, trying to imagine his dragon teeth men doing what he had ordered as quickly as possible.

The tiny faceless soldiers should have penetrated the building by now. They needed to cut off the alarm before opening the vault room. The intelligence gathered earlier should help take care of that. Then they would go to the vault and use the combination to open it.

A chain of hands would carry the money to the ventilation system, then it would be passed to an exit the golems had arranged in advance. Then the vault would be locked and the alarm cut on.

Let the police try to figure that out.

Milos's cousin would know who had committed the robbery. He would not be happy. He wanted the holder of the teeth to rob targets of his own choosing. The sailor would rob them, but anything he could do to speed up his collection was fine.

He didn't plan to stay in America any longer than necessary.

Milos looked out the car's window, looking at the front of the bank. A brief flash told him his servants were inside the bank. Everything seemed to be going according to schedule.

In a few minutes everything would be done in such a way that no one will know what happened.

He would have to hide the money somehow once his team had assembled with the haul next to the cab. His cousin would never see it.

Of course he would know who had committed the crime. Milan wasn't an idiot. As long as he wanted money flowing to his coffers, he would not say anything. And if he did, Milos was confident his teeth would handle things as they always had.

Milos would miss his cousin a little, but such is life.

Bags appeared next to the bank. They squatted in the mouth of the alley, half hidden by the darkness lurking outside the influence of the street lights. Milos pointed. His faceless minions grew until they stood fully visible.

Milos gestured. The dragon's teeth gathered up the bags and carried them over to the car. The driver got out and opened the trunk for them. The money went in with their graceless efficiency. The golems shrank as they walked to the back door of the car. The sailor gathered them up as the driver got behind the wheel.

"Take us back to the dock." Milos smiled. Soon he would have all the money he needed and he could go home. Milan would not like that, but the amount of money he would receive as part of his partnership should mollify that.

The money would have to be stored where it couldn't be found while he was in Cutter Bay. Once he was overseas, he could exchange it anywhere for his home currency.

He had a few hours before he had to meet his cousin. He would take that time and sail out to sea for a while until he needed to travel to Milan's business. In a few days, he would look for another bank to rob.

Sooner or later, he would have to move his crime spree down the coast. He had been lucky so far that he hadn't encountered the superhumans who protected Cutter Bay. He couldn't depend on that to last forever.

The Blinker, not as active as he had been during the War, and the Ring had earned reputations among the criminals they battled. Milos had not had the misfortune to encounter either man while securing funds in Europe. He wanted to keep it that way.

His dragon's teeth were formidable against normal men, but he didn't know how well they would do against living lightning, or a man as strong as ten men.

He wasn't going to try and find out.

Oliver Hunt walked to the door of Milan's private club. He knocked on the door. He could be polite until he was balked. Then he might have to exert some of his will to get some answers from the fence.

No one came to the door after a minute. Hunt knocked again a little louder. Be patient. Don't knock down the door.

Hunt gritted his teeth. He raised his hand to knock a third time. The next time he would knock a lot harder. The door swung open to reveal a goon radiating annoyance. Hunt's fist came down on his face. The doorman fell to the floor inside the door.

Hunt stepped over the body. He gave the man a kick as he passed. No use letting him jump to his feet and get himself hurt worse than he was already.

The Ringbearer looked around, coating his skin in the metal slickness that rendered him bulletproof. It also made him a little scarier to the average crook. He might need that edge once he was face to face with Milan.

"What are you doing in here?" Another thug with a flat face appeared in the doorway to the dining room. His hand was under his coat.

Hunt crossed the narrow greeting area in two steps. The gun came out like he expected but he didn't care about that. His ring fist lifted the man out of the way so he could walk into the next room without any more opposition.

Milan sat at the only table in the room. Some of his underlings filled the other spaces. Glasses with varying levels of different liquids stood in front of the men. Most reached for weapons at the intrusion.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Hunt held up his metal hand in a stop gesture. "I'm only here to talk about the mystery burglary at a jewelry store across town. The cops say you're the biggest fence they can think of to get rid of the stuff."

"I'm an honest businessman." Milan slid his bulk back from the table. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hunt knew the man was lying. Fear radiated from under his composed exterior. Not only did he know about the robbery, he probably knew who did it. The Ringbearer thought he might have helped plan it with his level of agitation.

Hunt knew he couldn't force the information out of Milan. A court would never convict if this went to trial and Milan wasn't holding a smoking gun.

Hunt smiled. He still had something he could give to Kurtzman. That would help move things along. Milan could be sweated into making a mistake if they put the pressure on him long enough.

Milan was the brain. They wanted the muscle too. It was a cinch that he wasn't in the room looking at Hunt as he examined the people in front of him.

"I want you to report anything you hear to the police." Hunt smiled a little wider. "You're working for me now. Matter of fact, all of you are working for me now until this is over. I'll be checking in on you to see if you find the guy. Until then, your business is shut down."

"You're crazy." Milan stood then, his chair creaking in relief. "Get out of here."

"I'll be back." Hunt turned to leave. "The next time I come by, you'd better have something I can use."

Milan's fist hit the table top, but the Ringbearer had already stepped through the door and back out into the foyer. He walked toward the front door. Scuffling of chair legs told him the fish were coming after him. Time to vanish.

The Ringbearer stepped out of the front door. He grabbed the wall next to it. One yank pulled him up. He waited quietly.

The mob came out on the front steps of the private club. They pointed guns this way and that. They seemed confused that he wasn't on the street anywhere. It would have been so easy to drop down on top of them. Hunt restrained himself and waited patiently for the men to go back inside.

Hunt decided to call Kurtzman instead of going inside and seeing how badly he had rattled Milan. Maybe the Lieutenant could think of some way to put the screws on.

Planting a policeman in front of the private club might put a dampener on things.

Hunt dropped down from the face of the building. He walked to where he had parked his car. He would drive over to a telephone booth and make the call. Maybe Kurtzman had narrowed the search down with the aid of his colleagues.

If he could figure out the connection between Milan and the mystery thief, things would go a long way to being solved and taken care of.

Oliver Hunt found a phone booth down the street from the club. He kept an eye on it while he dialed the police station. If Milan knew where the thief was, he would call, or send a note to the guy to stay clear. If he didn't, he would treat the guy like he was a normal customer, maybe a business partner.

Hunt waited as he was transferred through the department to Kurtzman's office. He could almost see the operator at the switchboard pulling cables and plugging them back in. Finally the lieutenant's gruff voice sounded in the receiver.

"I talked to Milan." Hunt frowned as men began to leave the building and started walking in different directions. "I think he's the guy. Does he have any family in Greece, or Europe?"

"I don't know." Kurtzman's shuffled some papers close to the phone. "I can find out. Do you think that's the link with our guy?"

"As soon as I started asking questions, he got scared like he knew the jig was up but he didn't want to give up yet." Hunt picked one of the men fleeing in the street. He needed to talk to one of them and find out what was going on. "It seemed to me that he was going to go down fighting rather than admit anything since we didn't have any evidence."

"We might have a hard time getting any evidence if we can't catch this guy in the act, or at least selling what he steals to Milan." Kurtzman banged into something. "I'll look into this relative angle. Maybe that's our link."

"Good." Hunt nodded as his selected quarry passed on the other side of the street without looking at him. "A lot of men came out of Milan's clubhouse and started in different directions. I'm going to follow one and see if I can get some more information for us."

"Be careful." Kurtzman sounded worried. "The only reason to do that is check for someone following, or to lay a trap if there is someone following."

"I'll look both ways." Hunt hung up the phone. He stepped out of the booth, careful for signs that someone was watching him as he moved after the goon. The guy probably didn't know much but anything was better than the nothing the Ringbearer had at the moment.

Hunt wondered if that was the purpose of the mass exodus. Maybe they had been sent to draw off any followers. Should he leave the clubhouse unguarded? He paused to think about things as the other man walked along.

This had all the earmarks of a trap. Why else would he send out all these men unless he planned to be walking out on his own himself. Once he was clear, he could get a cab to a meeting. And if pursuit thought he was still at the club, or doing something else, so much the better for him.

Hunt decided the best thing he could do was get an overview of the situation. He headed for the tallest building in the neighborhood. He climbed up the outside with his tremendously strong hands pulling him up like he was climbing a ladder. He looked on every street that he could see with his ring enhancing his vision. He smiled at what it showed him.

Milan had changed clothes and stood on a corner waiting for a bus. The stop was two blocks over from his place. Since he was pointed downtown, his meeting must be on the way, or he was going to ride until he could switch buses, and use the second bus to get where he had to go.

Hunt decided that following in his car would be the easiest thing to do. If Milan did switch, he could be right there to pick up the new vehicle without a problem.

Hunt went to where he had stashed his car. He got in, doffing his mask and jacket. The mask went in its compartment. He drove onto the street and headed for the bus stop.

Milan had to be heading for a meeting with his super burglar. Why else try to confuse anyone watching his place? He must be ready to do another job. The man struck Hunt as too greedy to hold off in the face of police suspicion.

Of course, Hunt could be misjudging the man. He could be on the way to tell his employee to quit stealing because the heat was on. A visit from the local vigilante might instill more than the normal amount of caution in a fence.

Hunt spotted Milan on the bus. It was heading downtown. He got in behind it and followed, wondering where they were going. His knowledge of the city failed him for the moment without more than one direction to indicate the destination.

Hunt turned and turned again. He followed the bus by driving down parallel streets. He didn't want Milan to get wise and turn around to go back to the club house after all this. He kept one eye on the road and the other on the swarthy profile in the transport's window.

Soon or later an answer would appear.

Milos rode in a cab to the meeting place with his cousin. He didn't want to spend the money, but he also didn't want to have to do anything that might attract attention to his existence. He had a feeling that his tasks were going to be complicated by the police and the local masked men.

He had a feeling it was time for him to move on to the next city before he left too many clues to his whereabouts. Additionally his cousin would not trust him when he found about the bank robbery. He would want a split at the very least.

Milos wasn't going to give him that. He needed the money too badly to give it up because of his cousin's wounded pride.

Milos waited in the cab across the street from the café where they met. He spotted the bus stopping. Then his cousin climbed out in someone else's coat and hat. He knew this because his cousin traveled with men and he had seen the coat on one of them when the meetings had taken place.

Something must be wrong.

Milos directed the cabbie to drive over close enough to talk to the walking Milan before he reached the street restaurant. He looked around for anyone else on the street as the car slowly closed on the underworld figure shambling up to the outside furniture. Milos whistled sharply. Milan looked over, smiled slightly, then walked over. A second later, both men rode away from the meeting place in the back of the yellow taxi.

"What is going on?" Milos spoke in Greek so the cab driver wouldn't know what they were talking about.

"The Ring came to see me at the club." Milan looked out the window. "He's on to us."

"In this country, the police need evidence." Milos glared at his cousin. "They can't do anything as long as you have dispersed everything like you said you would. I need that money, cousin."

"And I need you to wait until the heat has gone down." Milan glared right back, wiping his broad face with a handkerchief. "We can't just keep pulling jobs as long as every cop in the city is looking at me. The heist won't be nearly as much but the risk won't be there either."

"How long do you want me to wait before the next job?" Milos tried to keep a grip on his desperation. He didn't want the three dragon teeth in his pocket to come to life and kill his cousin right there in the cab with him.

Maybe later if he had to make that choice, just not then.

"At least a couple of months." Milan raised his hands in supplication. "By then some other nut will be trying to steal the spotlight and it will be business as usual for us."

"I can't wait that long." Milos shook his head. He had to be back in Greece with the money by then. He needed one large haul so he could skip town for good.

"I can't take any goods while the Ring is watching me." Milan looked out the window again. "As soon as I take one stolen gem, the cops will be there to put the cuffs on. You'll never get your money then."

"I will get my money, one way or the other." Milos switched to English. "Driver, stop the car please. My friend wants to get out here."

"I'm telling you to wait, Milos." Milan got out of the car. "This is a bad time."

"I want you to go home and pretend you never saw me." Milos gestured for the driver to move on. "We never had this meeting."

Milos rubbed his face. This separation had happened a lot sooner than he had planned. He would have to stick to robbing banks and convert the currency somewhere else before heading home. His biggest worry was the Ring had stumbled on his cousin and was one step removed from stumbling over him. Something had to be done about that.

He just didn't know what.

Milos directed the cab back toward the docks. He would talk with his dragon teeth and give them directions. His cousin had exposed him to capture. He couldn't risk the man running his mouth if someone applied pressure.

He would have to be dealt with in a permanent fashion.

Oliver Hunt debated what to do. He had a lead to the mystery burglar but he also had to make sure Milan went back home and didn't meet anyone else on the sly. The way they were talking, the Ringbearer expected a fight right then and there.

And to be blunt, this could be some other underling of Milan's that he didn't want exposed to Hunt's meddling.

Hunt decided he had to follow up and make sure. He concentrated and the ring split him in two. Half of its remaining powers were in one body, the other half in the other body. Hunt one decided to drive and stick with the cab and the stranger. Hunt two took to the street after Milan.

They would get back together when they had something definite one way or the other.

Hunt one had kept his sensitive sight. He took the tag of the cab in case he lost them on the drive to wherever they were going. Once there he would wait and keep watch until he knew something he could use.

At the very least he would have something he could turn over to Kurtzman for a follow up. That would keep the detective happy, and keep Hunt on the case until he could find a smoking gun he could use against Milan and his partner.

Hunt two walked a few blocks behind Milan the fence. He took casual strolling steps, but also ducked out of sight with his catlike reflexes. The man seemed to be heading for a bus stop. Maybe he was going back home as expected.

He seemed down to Hunt two. Maybe the stranger had given him some bad news.

Hunt one frowned as his quarry led him into Cutter Bay's extensive dock area. Everywhere he looked, boats were landing, leaving, or simply floating in the water. Which one belonged to the man he was following?

He pulled over his car as the cab stopped in a parking lot next to a hotel. Milan's contact got out and started down the street. Where could he be going?

Hunt followed, driving slowly from as far back as he thought was safe. His vision allowed him to watch without being seen as long as he was careful. He didn't want to blow the only lead they might get in these robberies.

The man took a circuitous route but finally wound up at a docked boat. He waved his hands, and the crew began to cast off. He climbed on board and waited as the sails carried the vessel out into the harbor.

Hunt one watched from a safe distance, noting the name of the boat in case he had to find it again. If this was the man, it was no wonder the police hadn't found a trace. He wasn't staying with the local criminal underworld which might turn him in as an outsider. And he wasn't on shore to be noticed as someone new to be checked on.

Hunt had the feeling that their hunch of a family connection might be dead on the money. He had to talk to Kurtzman and see if they could arrange some kind of trap.

A watchman on the docks would be needed to let them know the man was back to do whatever job had been arranged.

Hunt one was in a quandary. He needed his other side, but Milan was still walking around, meandering toward the club house. There was no telling if he was going to meet someone else yet.

Hunt decided that he needed some more hands. He looked around until he found a phone booth. Kurtzman needed the information he had already gotten so they could plan their next move. Besides he could still see the water and the boat as it headed out to sea so he had time to kill until it came back.

Maybe Kurtzman could devise the type of trap that would appeal to the careful man they appeared to be facing. He definitely was going to try and not leave anything to tie himself to the burglaries from the looks of the two jobs he had already pulled, and the history in Europe.

The Ringbearer and Lieutenant Kurtzman met at the detective's office. A squad of detectives was present to take part in the discussion they were about to have. Something had to be done about Milan's contact man, and they had to devise the perfect trap for the man.

Kurtzman sat behind his desk, smoking, feet up, as he considered what they already knew.

"This guy wants a lot of money fast, wants to keep robbing places even though the heat is on, and is connected to Milan." Kurtzman picked up one of the files. "He's almost certainly European, possibly from the Mediterranean, maybe Greek."

"Add in wartime experience." The Ring stood by the window. "Certainly Anti-Axis in the area."

"What about the faceless goons you saw?" Kurtzman flipped through the reports in the file. "How do they fit in?"

"Got me there." The Ring shrugged.

"They're helpers." Joe Franklin had a report in his hands from the Pentagon. "I got something from my buddy in the Feds. I have no idea what strings he had to pull to get this as blacked out as it is."

He handed the sheet over to Kurtzman. The lieutenant's eyebrows went up. Over half the page had been blacked out for national security purposes. Still, the gist was easy to follow from the context of the report.

Armed forces from the Allies had invaded Italy, using Greece as a foothold. Some holdouts captured had spoken of faceless men defending a particular town on the coast from any comers. They had learned to avoid the place.

That fit in with what the Ring had seen at the meeting between Milan and his thief. Kurtzman looked at the file on Milan's known relatives, glancing at the home towns of the men. Two of the men came from the town defended from the Axis.

"Who has the pictures of Milan's relatives?" Kurtzman had asked Interpol for the information and knew the list had been sent to the squad room from the communications center downstairs.

"I do, chief." Detective Brad Davis held up the rap sheets. "None of them have been reported in town from the airports and ships."

"Of course not." Kurtzman took the papers. "Our guy has his own boat. He doesn't need public transportation."

Kurtzman took out all of the pictures except for the two he knew were from that one small town. He held them up for the Ring. The masked man looked at them, nodding.

"The one on the left is the one who met with Milan." The Ring smiled.

"That makes him The Dragon's Teeth." Kurtzman checked the file for their man, looking at scanty information.

Milos Kankarides had nothing there that would prove anything other than the Ring's identification that he had met Milan. That wouldn't tie him to the thefts.

"Kankarides could be the guy." Kurtzman put the picture and report from the military aside. He looked at his detectives. "We need to find out more about this guy. We also need to keep an eye on him so he doesn't rob anyplace else while we're getting ready to trap him."

Kurtzman closed his eyes, envisioning the steps he would need to take to prove beyond a reasonable doubt they had the right man.

"Davis, I want you to get some beat cops together. Tell them to wear plain clothes. They are to watch for Kankarides's boat so we know when he lands again. Tell them that we're going to set up a dragnet room so they can call there with reports."

Davis nodded, took the picture of the target, left with haste.

"Franklin, call Interpol again. We need to know everything they can find out about Kankarides from his hometown. Tell them we suspect he's the one behind the recent robberies and we're trying to prove it. Anything we turn up will be handed over so they can close the unsolved cases overseas."

Franklin nodded. He left almost as fast as Davis.

"Swanson, we need another detail to watch Milan. Get some more men and follow him around. Follow all of his men around if you have to."

"Will do, Lieutenant." Swanson picked his wide body up out of the visitor's chair and left, chewing on a toothpick.

"Prasko, we need big enough bait to lure our guy into the trap if it's this Kankarides. We have to be able to prove things to a jury. I want you to find the biggest swag you can and have the owners announce it will be showing here in Cutter Bay by special arrangement for one night."

"What if they squawk?" Prasko stood up, straightening his shirt and tie.

Kurtzman gave it a moment's thought.

"Tell them that we want to fake arrangements to transport the swag, and guard it for that one night." Kurtzman took a puff on his cigarette. "We'll need a date at least three days ahead of time."

"Got it." Prasko left the office to make the calls.

Kurtzman turned to his last two detectives, Wallace and Groom. They returned his gimlet gaze with various intentness of their own.

"Wallace, I need you to go over the crime scenes and make a list of everything you think is important that we should know. Anything that you think, write it down so we can use it."

Wallace nodded and left, pad and pencil already in hand.

"Groom, you have to pick the site. I want you to find a place that is public but well secured from anybody trying to break in. That's where we'll put the trap. Work with Wallace and Prasko on exact measures needed."

Groom saluted and headed for the door.

"It looks like you have everything well in hand, Kurtzman." The Ring smiled, eyes glittering behind the cloth mask he wore over the top half of his face.

"We'll need you to help protect the fake transport goods and at the museum." Kurtzman put his feet back on the desk. "You're the only thing we got that can stand up to those goons."

"It will be my pleasure." The Ring opened the window. "I'll check back with you in a few days."

The masked man jumped from the opening, headed for his car, then home.

Oliver Hunt waited patiently to make the call to the police. He squired his beloved Donna around town, enjoyed the simple things in life, and kept an eye out for any trouble he might have to step in to end.

He had no doubt the trap would work. He had been involved in various similar schemes. They always worked if the bait was good enough. All you needed to know was what kind of bait to lay out for your mark.

Kurtzman had that in hand. The police knew how to find things out when they had their minds set on the target. Many a bad man, and some innocent ones, found that out to their dismay.

All Hunt could do was wait for things to fall in place. He had learned how to do that on his quest for the jewels that made up the ring. And since he had the easiest job, he wasn't going to complain about it.

"What are you looking for?" Donna settled on his lap, draping her arm around his shoulders.

Hunt had settled a chair so he could look out the window from his apartment and gaze at the sea. So far boats had come in and gone with regular crews. When he saw the right boat, he could call the lieutenant and let him know.

He had already spotted some of the lookouts watching the waterfront for the boat.

"I'm looking for a boat." Hunt smiled, hugged her. "Then I will have to assist the police again."

"So you are going to catch the mystery thief?" Donna frowned. "Wait. Does this have anything to do with the visiting Kenridge Diamond display?"

"I expect so." Hunt adjusted her weight on his legs. "Kurtzman is setting something up as a trap. That could be it."

"People will go crazy when they are told the display wasn't here." Donna made a moue. "They'll hate being fooled."

"I hate for you to go if it is part of a trap." Hunt touched her face with his fingers. "I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'll have to go." Donna planted a kiss on his cheek. "All the socialites will be there."

"I want you stay near the door in case there's trouble." Hunt frowned at his lady. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Nothing will." Donna smiled at his anxiety. "I doubt this thief will rob the place while we are all in attendance."

"We don't know what he will do." Hunt hugged her closer, taking in her perfume. "He was quite ready to battle the Axis for his hometown. I doubt some flatfoots would even pose a shred of fear for him."

"I don't believe that." Donna laughed. "He's been robbing the places after dark, when no one is around. He obviously doesn't want to hurt anyone, or let anyone interfere with what he wants to do. He'll look at the security on the museum and try to take the display after everyone leaves. He'll watch the guards to make sure they follow a routine before he makes his move."

"And he'll stake the place out to make sure everything remains the same unless he thinks he can get that one big score to carry back to Greece." Hunt nodded.

"The Kenridge might be enough to lure him in, but I doubt he will try on the first night." Donna held her hands up to show the weight of decision. "It all depends on whether or not he can make the same amount of money over a tiny bit longer period of time versus his need for the money."

"I see what you are saying." Hunt smiled. The man he had observed earlier spoke of a need for the money more than anything else. He felt that through his ring.

"Do you think you can stop him?" Donna looked out the window, watching their reflection in the window panes.

"I think so." Hunt looked at her reversed face, feeling the worry through the ring on his hand. "On the other hand, I don't have to stop him, I just have to drive him off if I can't catch him."

"Very funny." Donna shook her head. "We both know better than that, Mr. Fancy Pants Super Hero."

"I prefer the term dapper." Hunt smiled, lifting her in the air as he stood up. "Dandy could be good too."

"Whatever shall I do?" Donna placed the back of her hand over her forehead in mock distress. "My fiancé is dapper and dandy."

"Thank you, Miss Scarlet." Hunt started walking.

"Where are you taking me, you dapper brute?" Donna laughed in his arms.

"To show you the gentle side of my dapper, brutish nature." Hunt swung her around, cradling her against his chest. "We shall whisper, and giggle, and do things to show our mutual love to each other."

"I have no doubt of that." Donna held the door to the bedroom open for them to walk inside.

Oliver Hunt watched the harbor from the roof of one of the skyscrapers that dotted Cutter Bay's downtown. He had picked one that would give him a full view of the harbor. He didn't want his quarry to arrive without being noticed.

Kurtzman had done a good job with the fake display. Everyone had been told it was the real thing. A fake diamond had been installed under the guarded display glass. Watchers had been posted to form a net around the place to stop anyone from leaving.

All they needed was their burglar.

Hunt spotted the sailboat he wanted. He focused on the deck. Faceless men performed their tasks with mechanical precision as the vessel headed for a dock. If Milos followed true to form, he would case the place tonight, and rob it tomorrow. The Ringbearer would have to be on site as soon as possible.

Hunt split again, investing half the power of the ring in one of him, the other half in the watcher. That way one of them could watch the Dragon's Teeth while the other one headed for the museum.

Hunt's duplicate had the speed. It headed down, taking the stairs. Kurtzman needed to know the arrival was going down. Hopefully his men on the waterfront would provide ground reports while the rest of the men prepared for the building invasion.

A phone in the building's lobby was enough to get the police ready. The second Hunt stepped out on the street and sprinted along, hoping to get to the museum before Milos could drive to it from the docks.

The watching Hunt waited as his prey tied off his sail boat, and walked from the slip. A stop at a payphone could mean anything, but a cab rolled to a stop and waited for Milos to drop in the back seat.

The original Hunt had the strength. He launched from the rooftop to a building across the street, gripped the stone face like a spider when he landed. He worked his way to a ledge and moved to a corner as fast as he dared. He had the numbers of the cab and tried to keep it in sight. Occasionally a leap across an alley, or over a street, had to be taken.

The duplicate reached the museum, checked the place out for familiar faces. He spotted a beat cop in plainclothes trying to blend in to the crowd. A simple question gained directions to where Kurtzman waited in an office above the main display floors. The temporary hero rushed up the stairs, not sure how far the thief was behind him.

"It's about time you got here." Kurtzman closed the door behind the Ringbearer. "So far there hasn't been any excitement, but I don't know how long that will last."

"Have your men been following him?" The duplicate didn't bother mentioning that his other half was also on the trail.

"They're hanging back." Kurtzman sat at a bank of phones. "This room isn't hooked up to the regular ventilation for the building so I don't think anyone but us knows it's here."

"How did you arrange that?" Hunt looked around the barren office.

"The curator suggested it." Kurtzman shrugged. "He said there was a pipe leading up to the roof, but it was disguised as some kind of exhaust tube. They found this room when they took it over and started to use it for displays. This might be a speakeasy left over from Prohibition."

Hunt looked the room over again. It seemed wide enough for a small bar. He still doubted it was an illegal drinking spot. More likely deals had been done in this room that no honest man wanted to know about.

"All we have to do is wait for him to case the place, then we can set the real trap." Kurtzman rubbed his hands together. "We can pick him up at his boat with the fake jewels and down he goes."

"I doubt it will be that simple since we still don't know how he does whatever he does." Hunt smiled. "His boat had a bunch of faceless goons on it. If bullets won't stop them, we might have a problem."

"We don't know what they can do." Kurtzman looked worried again. "The reports from overseas couldn't verify anything."

"We'll have to play it by ear then." Hunt glanced back at what he had seen on the deck of the boat as it sailed into the harbor. "I counted at least six on deck."

"If we have to take him on the street and sink the boat, I'm good with that." Kurtzman picked up a ringing phone and listened to the man on the other end. "He's heading right for us. He's going to be casing the place like we thought."

"Then everything will happen tomorrow." Hunt nodded. "Unless he decides to do it tonight."

"Either way, we can't touch him without the bait in his hands." Kurtzman frowned. "Until then, he's an innocent bystander who just happened to show up at the museum to look at things."

"You might want to call the Navy just in case so they can shut off his escape to sea." Hunt held off any protest with a raised hand. "We can't afford to let him escape if he does decide to rob the place tonight."

Kurtzman nodded, and picked up the phone. It was better safe than sorry.

Oliver Hunt watched his prey from a rooftop, and smiled. Maybe the robbery wouldn't take place that night, but the fish was on the hook. They just had to reel him in before he got spooked for any reason.

While his duplicate worked with Kurtzman, the other Ringbearer observed the cab pause for a moment. The man he thought was Milos opened his door and dropped a small faceless thing on the sidewalk. The cab started going again as soon as the door closed as the Tooth headed for the museum.

Hunt decided to keep an eye on the tiny creature moving around the trap. He didn't want it discovering anything strange and take that back to its boss. That would shut the trap down altogether. They might never get another chance to prove the guy had committed the robberies.

The Tooth entered the building through a crack in the door when someone came out. Hunt took a moment to take off his mask, bow tie, and jacket. He waited for the right moment and jumped down to the street. He stashed his clothes and entered the museum, looking for the little spy.

The Tooth settled down to wait under a display case. Hunt went to the other side of the room. He picked up a brochure from a display and tried to keep an eye on it while trying to look like he was browsing the exhibits.

Hunt went into the souvenir shop and picked up some camouflage with a cap and a windbreaker to wear over his tuxedo shirt. He picked up a handful of postcards and tucked them in the jacket's pocket before paying for his disguise.

The Tooth stood in the same spot. It didn't have any features, but Hunt knew it was watching. One false move and the thing would sound the alarm. He needed to warn Kurtzman somehow.

Hunt glanced across the room to the information booth. A big microphone rested in front of the pretty girl pointing the way into some other wing of the building. It could just be what he needed to let Kurtzman know what was going on.

Hunt walked over to the information booth as the girl sat down. She looked up at him with a professional smile.

"Can I help you?" Her gaze went through Hunt. He expected she must deal with hundreds of visitors and their questions.

"I need to page a friend of mine if you don't mind." Hunt spotted a couple of cops he knew dressed in civilian clothing. "I think he's lost in the building somewhere."

"What's his name?" The girl grabbed the microphone with one hand, held the other over the activation key at the base.

"It's Ring." Hunt glanced over at the Tooth. Seconds later, the call for Mr. Ring went out over the public announcement system. Hunt smiled and thanked the girl for her assistance.

Hunt spotted his other self coming down the staircase from wherever Kurtzman had set up his office. He used the columns for cover. That was a wise choice. Hunt was surprised he had thought of it.

He realized that he shouldn't have been. The other Hunt would know something was up and would protect his identity from public view. That made things easier for them. The unmasked Hunt jogged up the stairs so they could decide what to do next.

"The spy is here in the building." The original Hunt took cover, keeping an eye on the golem. "It's watching the security arrangements. Let Kurtzman know. Is there a phone I can call when it leaves?"

"We knew this would happen." The duplicate wrote down the number to the phone upstairs. "I'll let Kurtzman know what's going on. Where should we meet?"

"Meet me down on the waterfront about two blocks from where the boat sailed in earlier." Hunt made a mental note to call Donna to tell her it would be a late night the next couple of days. "We'll grab something to eat and keep an eye on our guy."

"Got it." The duplicate looked down into the lobby from behind its column. "We wait until the robbery goes down?"

"That seems to be the best plan." Hunt started downstairs. "If things go bad, we'll try to hook up by the display for the fake diamond."

"Got it." The duplicate went back upstairs.

Oliver Hunt waited outside the museum, whole again. Hours had passed but the spy had finally made its way out of the building which had freed Hunt to get back together, and allowed the police cordon to move with the Greek villain. The net was necessarily loose to prevent him from seeing the trap.

Hunt used the roof tops to keep his own eye on things. His ring gave him a view of things that allowed him to follow from a greater distance than the police. He hoped no one would give away the trap.

On the other hand, if the Dragon's Tooth did get wise, maybe he would move and the city could settle back to ordinary crimes again.

Hunt wouldn't mind if that happened, but he had promised to help catch the guy. Letting him get away wouldn't accomplish that.

Hunt watched the boat sail out of the harbor. He had time to get something to eat, maybe catch a nap, definitely talk to Donna. He doubted the boat would be back before the next day.

He decided to call Kurtzman and give him the good news. Then he would check in with Donna for a late dinner. He hoped he was right that the job would happen the following day. Nothing was worse than letting your guard down because you thought someone was going to do something and they changed the plan at the last moment.

Hunt waited to make sure the boat had not decided to circle back before finding a phone booth. His call to Kurtzman was short and merely confirmed what the lieutenant's own detectives had already reported.

Hunt called Donna next. The delight in her voice picked up his spirits. She happily agreed to a late dinner. He pointed out that he would need to change if she wanted to go out. That was fine with her.

Hunt wondered what he would do if he lost her. Their romance seemed too good to be true. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop and everything turn to dust. He shook off his dark thoughts. He had some driving to do if he wanted to change clothes and get over to her apartment to pick her up.

Hunt found his car, doffed his disguise, pulled into the next street, and drove through town to his place. He got cleaned up, and new clothes. He headed over to Donna's apartment.

Hunt reached the apartment building after some careful maneuvering. He went up to her floor. He went to knock, but the door opened on its own. Donna threw her arms around him before he could say anything.

"I love you too." Hunt hugged her back. "Ready to go?"

"Let's." Donna closed her door, making sure it was locked. "You can tell me how things went as we drive."

"It's a short story, hon." Hunt took her arm in his. "We're in a waiting game now."

"So you think you have your man?" Donna smiled. "That's excellent."

"We don't have anything yet." Hunt pressed the elevator button for them. He tapped his foot as he waited for the doors to open. "We can't move without evidence of a crime. And the Dragon's Tooth has left us nothing like that."

"So you're hoping to catch him in the act?" Donna stepped inside the elevator when the doors dinged open. She pushed the lobby button. "Sounds exciting. Can I watch?"

"No." Hunt shook his head. Donna had lent assistance on cases before but he didn't want her close to anything that might be dangerous.

They rode the elevator down in silence. Hunt thought of all the ways she could be hurt in a battle with an unknown villain. He wanted her to keep her distance while he did the work. That's why the ring had chosen him.

"I can take care of myself." Donna frowned at him as they stepped out of the elevator. "I think I have proved that over and over."

They walked across the lobby, a gulf between them. She refused his offer to get the door with a grab and dash across the threshold. She went to the car and got in the passenger side.

"I want you to be safe." Hunt got behind the wheel. "I don't want to have to split my concentration because I am worried about you being where you could be hurt. I love you and I want to keep on loving you."

"And I don't want to wait for the news to reach the radio." Donna looked out her side window. "I want to be there in case you need me."

"And it makes me proud that you are doing something to help people." The last twinged against Hunt's armor as soon as the last word was uttered.

"Okay, you win." Hunt frowned. Why did he always lose these arguments? He should be able to win one. "I'll try to get you a place where you can watch in safety."

"Really?" Donna smiled again, a rainbow after a dark storm.

"Yes." Hunt thought about the museum and the approaches to it by land. "Matter of fact, you can do me a favor now that I think about it."

"So you will take my help?" Donna laughed. "What can I do?"

"Let's eat first." Hunt thought about the layout of the city as he drove. There might be a way to keep Donna safe and let her be useful. "I have to think about it first."

"I want a real job." Donna held up her finger as if to forestall some messenger work that would take her far from the battle lines.

"I promise you will have a real job." Hunt held up his hand in the Scout's pledge. "I will show you after dinner."

"Great." Donna settled in her seat. "Where are we eating?"

"I don't know." Hunt considered the more immediate problem of Donna's placement as he drove. He didn't feel hungry anymore.

"Let's eat at that place on the beach we liked so much." Donna pointed toward the waterfront. "We had a good time there."

"I don't see why not." Hunt glanced at his watch. "We should be able to get there before they close."

Donna leaned close as he navigated the city streets. She gazed at the passing nightscape with bright eyes. He could almost see her thinking about the excitement she would have as his helper.

He hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed with what he had in mind. It would make her a part of the action but keep her far away from any real danger.

Hunt picked his way along, smiling when he saw the restaurant they had eaten at before Milos had arrived to stir up trouble.

Tonight, they could relax. Tomorrow, they would be working hard.

Oliver Hunt wore his costume as the Ring as he waited in the office upstairs above the main floor of the museum. Kurtzman sipped coffee from a thermos, sitting by the phone. They were both sure this was the night.

The Tooth had struck rapidly in his other robberies. They didn't expect this one to be any different if he fell for the trap.

The phone rang gently. Someone had stuffed a buffer of cloth in the mechanism to keep the bells from chiming at full strength. A call at the wrong moment could tip the thief that someone was waiting. Kurtzman picked it up, and listened. He put the receiver down.

"Your lookout said that the sailboat is back in the harbor." Kurtzman looked at his watch. "It won't be long now."

"I better get to the roof then so I can get out there in case something goes wrong." Hunt went to the door. "This guy won't go quietly."

"My guys should be in position." Kurtzman got to his feet. "As soon as the jewels switch hands, we go."

"Don't worry." Hunt smiled. "We'll have this wrapped up tonight."

Hunt made his way to the roof. He stood by the door, white jacket glimmering in the shadows before he moved to the edge where he could see the streets without being seen himself. He didn't believe that any of the strange helpers would infiltrate the roofs around the building, but he kept an eye out for them so he could hide if he had to.

It was better to be careful than have to chase his quarry down and try to secure evidence when a trap seemed the best way to go at the moment.

Hunt spotted the car as it rolled down the street toward the museum. Everything looked clear as far as he could discern with his ring vision. Faceless lugs got out of the car while it waited on the other side of the street. They headed for the front door of the building.

Hunt tensed as the golems entered the museum. The scout had told them the guard would be on the other side of the place. The doors had been locked. The assistants pushed them open easily. The Ringbearer went to a skylight. The thieves stood in front of the display case. One stuck his finger in the lock and twisted. The lid sprang open. The fake jewels went into a bag next.

It was almost show time.

The group of goons headed back to the front door with the loot. Hunt paced to the edge of the roof, waiting for his moment. The faceless golems walked to the car, watching the street as they went. They got in the back. The automobile started forward.

Hunt wrapped his flesh in the armor from the ring. He jumped from the roof. The hardened flesh should protect him from impact the same way that it did from bullets and knives. The Ringbearer dropped down in a lazy arc. He smashed through the roof of the car with a small degree of satisfaction with his aim.

The car jumped the curb as the driver lost control. It drove into the front of the building next to the museum. That might have been planned, or a happy accident. Either way, it kept the police on watch from peppering the car with lead since they couldn't see what they were shooting.

That suited Hunt fine.

He grabbed the closest neck and pulled. One of the faceless servants tackled him, using the pull to shoulder him out of the wreckage. Doors popped open to let the occupants jump from the car with the thought of splitting up and adding to the confusion. Only one mattered and couldn't be allowed to get away from the net.

Hunt smashed his current foe in the faceless skull to get room to move. He grabbed a shirt and flung the tooth through the wall. He leaped, spreading his arms to carry two more to the ground. He pushed their heads into the concrete floor to get back to his feet quickly. Someone was yelling but he was too busy fending off a fourth golem's blows to pay attention.

Hunt grabbed his enemy by the head where the ears should be. He tossed the lightweight straight up. The golem went through the ceiling, and stayed there, fighting to free itself with its body pinned.

Hunt looked around. The master had made a retreat to the back of the store he found himself in. He needed to catch up with the brains of the outfit if he wanted to vanquish his enemy.

At least Milos had taken the bag of jewels with him. That would be enough to convict if they caught him before he went too far from the scene.

Hunt turned on his vision. It pointed him to a shaking cloth at the back of the store. He rushed to the back door, pulling it open. More of the Teeth waited for him to step out in the alley behind the building. These featureless monsters didn't have any disguise like their brothers. They must have been grown just to deal with him.

Hunt spotted Milos at the other end of the alley. He didn't have time to deal with the minions when the master was trying to slip away. He jumped over the faceless mooks and flashed down the concrete passage. The Dragon spotted him, reached for a gun to try and stop him with a bullet. A ring bearing hand swung gently. The villain went down, trying to remember how to keep awake. His golems froze and then began to shrink.

Hunt smiled. It looked like everything was done except for letting the police take credit. He made sure to take the gun, fake jewels, and bag of teeth from the sleeping Milos. He didn't want the villain to try anything to escape when he woke up.

Hunt tied Milos up with the sailor's own belt before lugging back the way they had come. He collected the teeth in his path as detectives rushed into the alley with weapons drawn. He told them not to let the teeth near their prize before handing him over. Then he fled into the night.

He still had to pick Donna up from her lookout spot. It was the only thing he could think of to let her take part while keeping her out of harm's way.

She might have something to say to him about that.

epilogue

Mr. Snow found a picture of the mysterious Dragon that had plagued Cutter Bay. He put it in a frame and placed the setting beside the single tooth he put on display. He checked the angles with his hands up as a frame. He stepped back to take in the whole section.

The first Blinker had a small section of things on one side. He had retired after the war, only operating in the case of extreme emergencies. Snow had some mementoes from his career to the left.

The Ring held a smaller area in the middle of the display area. He had retired after only a few years. The curator had heard rumors of a personal tragedy but couldn't track things down. He wondered, but without a confirmation, he couldn't make that part of the display. The headline of the Ring's last battle was in the last case in his area.

Snow had a few from two minor heroes that had taken over from the Ring in Cutter Bay before he had the second Blinker's exhibits. He wanted to expand the section but getting meaningful remnants and pictures seemed prone to frauds trying to extort unreasonable prices from him.

Several had wanted a million dollars for a piece of rock from an alien battle in the southwest. They had not wanted him to examine the rock before handing over a check. He wished them luck on their endeavors and a hearty farewell.

He had a fund for buying relics but there was no way he could pull a million out of it. He certainly wasn't going to do that for a piece that he had not seen, much less not had a lab test it for authenticity.

Snow stepped back, making notes on how he wanted to rearrange the Cutter Bay display when he had more pieces. He had already made plans to buy the shop next door to add to his own when the owners retired, or moved on from the neighborhood.

He hoped to add a hall of statues in there of the heroes and villains he had pictures of. Stories of mysterious protectors of humanity went back before written history. He hoped to add some kind of display to demonstrate that sooner, or later.

Mr. Snow took one more look around the displays, nodding to himself. The museum had seen some visitors, and the souvenir shop did a brisk business in books and busts of the heroes and villains he talked about on the tours. He hoped to have more but knew that it would take a while before the place started paying for itself.

He and his assistant just had to hold on until things reversed themselves and people wanted to learn about their protectors again.

Snow checked his watch. It was almost time to throw open the doors for another day. He didn't have any tours scheduled, but there might be the lone visitor who would look around and get something from the shop.

Maybe Don Suffrett would come by with another piece of something from a battle that Hero X had taken part in. The man seemed to be able to get his hands on things that were easily verifiable as the remains of gadgets the local hero had destroyed.

Mr. Snow had asked him once how he had procured some of his finds. The engineer had told him that a friend of a friend had sent them over after he had put the word out he was looking for such things. He didn't even want his name on the plaques as a donator.

Mr. Snow unlocked the front doors, turned on the overhead lights, and looked at the sky for a moment. He had some things to do but they seemed unimportant as he watched a vapor trail cut across the city's air space. Sometimes he wished he could soar in the heavens again instead of being landbound for the rest of his life.

He exhaled a small puff of breath and retreated to his office. He could see the whole first floor from there, and it allowed him to plan where to put more displays as needed. His assistant should arrive in a few minutes to run the shop and work on her studies.

Maybe he could track down the rest of the Dragon's Teeth if he was really lucky with some phone calls.

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