Tremaine's Flight
1
Lazarus Tremaine rolled into Mt. Airy, blue eyes scanning the street as he pointed his motorcycle down the main road. He decided to stop and grab something to eat before moving on. He had a feeling drawing him south and west.
He found a diner off the beaten path that seemed busy enough that he could get something to eat without having to answer a lot of questions. Some people liked to pry.
He pulled into an empty slot and pushed his hat back as he dismounted. He looked around as he walked to the door. He didn't see any curious policemen creeping closer.
Mt. Airy seemed like a small city. Maybe he could avoid any complications that smaller towns brought.
He didn't want to explain that he was just passing through when he could just be passing through.
Tremaine stepped into the diner, sniffing the air. He approved of the smell of bacon and eggs. He decided that would be good with some coffee.
Maybe he could get some toast to go with the rest of his order.
"Have a seat, hon." A waitress passed him with a tray of food balanced on her hands. "I'll be right with you."
He picked up a small menu left at his table and selected his favorites before the waitress had time to arrive at his table. He spent that intervening space looking at the other customers. They seemed ordinary to him in every way.
At least he didn't have to worry about trouble while he was eating.
He looked out the nearby window. He had picked a spot where he could watch his motorcycle. He frowned at the speck in the distance. It was in the air and heading down into the city fast.
He watched it, trying to decide what the speck could be. It looked like a large bird to him. He frowned. It seemed to be heading right for the diner. He realized it was as big as a man too late to stop what happened next.
The winged thing smashed through one of the main windows, scattering glass everywhere. It sent diners tumbling out of the way. It grabbed one of the women and took flight back through the smashed pane.
Tremaine crossed the intervening distance in a flash. He grabbed the woman's legs before she could be dragged through the opening. He found himself yanked into the air. He braced himself against the wall below the window to keep from losing his leverage.
He should have known something like this would happen. His feelings were leading him into trouble.
He put it out of his mind. This was part of his penance. He had to live with it.
The woman started slipping from his grip as he struggled against the flying man. He realized the thing was an elaborate costume while fighting to keep the woman on the ground. The flier gave a yank and shook him off. The loss of the extra weight threw him and his burden high in the air.
The winged man headed for the heights as Tremaine watched. He frowned as he tracked the flight path.
"It's the Shrike." One of the customers joined the cowboy on the street. "I thought he was dead."
"Police?" Tremaine headed for his motorcycle. He doubted they would arrive in time. The Shrike was moving fast.
"I don't know." The bystander looked around. "I'll call them."
The motorcycle roared to life as the cowboy headed off in pursuit.
Tremaine roared through the city, cutting through any passage that opened up in front of him. He barely kept his quarry in sight as the winged man kept climbing. He seemed to be heading to the peak above the city. Maybe he had a nest up in the heights.
He cleared the buildings and found a road heading up the mountain. How long did the woman have? Could he find them in time? What was this about?
He supposed he should read up on the villains in this modern era. He hadn't given it much thought after his rebirth. He had been traveling around too much to settle down enough to read up on recent history.
He supposed that winging it had its own points in its favor.
He hoped it didn't get him killed again.
He smiled. He was trying to make up for years of murder and pillage. Losing his life would be the least serious thing that could happen to him at this point. It might even make up for what he had done.
He would never be another Johnny Shield, but he was going to try.
Tremaine paused as the road up the mountain became trails leading away from civilization. He noted signs put up by rangers to make sure people kept on the right trail. He couldn't see the winged man through the trees.
Which did he go?
Tremaine decided to go right and head for the top. There had to be a way other than flight to get to the winged man's lair. He couldn't just fly back and forth all the time.
He realized that was faulty logic. The winged man could fly back and forth if he had no reason to go down into the city other than kidnaping people. Did he have a reason to walk down?
Tremaine hoped so. That meant there was a way to get up there he could use for himself.
He roared down the trail, looking for paths heading up. He climbed higher and higher until he ran out of rideable trail. He pulled his motorcycle to a stop and parked it under a tree.
This was where he would have to walk. He pushed his hat back and looked up. All he saw were trees. He started walking.
He hoped the winged man hadn't murdered his captive by now. How long did it take to cut a throat, or throw them off the mountain? What did he want? That was the key in how long she would be able to survive.
He found a path hugging the side of the peak. It seemed to go around the mountain. A sign warned of danger and keep off. This might be what he was looking for to get access to the villain.
He stepped over the sign and started along the path. It quickly became a ledge. He paused when it petered out. Where did he go from there?
He looked around. He thought he saw handholds in the rock above him. He reached up. They were concealed handles in the stone.
He smiled thinly. His enemy had put a ladder in for himself to get to the top.
Tremaine pulled himself up on the first rung. He nodded at the rings he saw above him. They were concealed from the ledge. Once you started climbing, they became visible.
He headed for the top as silently as he could. He expected a one man show, but being wrong could send him down to the bottom of the mountain in a hurry.
He reached the top and went to cover behind a bush. He took the time to look around before he advanced further.
Where would he put a secret hideout at the top of a mountain?
He decided that he would put it in some kind of concealed cave. He would use the local plants to hide it. He focused on one set of bushes that didn't move with the rest.
Was he in time?
2
Galvin Steppe sipped his tea as he looked over the reports in front of him. It had been a year since Scott Bolo had blown himself up and no one knew how he had done it. Galvin was the latest in a long line who had gone over the data and had no idea what had happened.
The secondary question of how Bolo had gotten one of Alex Arthur's inventions to his house to have it kill him was somebody else's problem.
The government agents who had recruited Steppe to look at the pictures of the evidence and reports had made that clear.
He didn't have anything he could add to the reports. There had been a surge of electromagnetism in the area at the same time as Bolo's death. Nothing else had been reported.
If he knew what had happened to Mr. Destiny, he would have called the magician and ask him for a magic spell to find out what had happened. Science was a dead end at this point.
Galvin put aside the reports as he admitted that maybe he was losing his touch. It had been a long time since he had dealt with any mystery. He wondered if he had made a mistake hanging up his flight gear after the war.
The need for the Eagle seemed to have died down so he had retired his masked identity with the advent of other heroes on the scene. Kid Fire and Stripstream were protecting Mt. Airy for the most part now.
Some of the other guys were still out there but he hadn't talked to them in a while. Jimmy, Destiny, and White Star had dropped off the map after the war. The best bet was they had been killed in action and no one knew where, or how.
And now he had this review that he couldn't make sense of to save his life.
Galvin placed all of the papers in their folders. He needed to look at the site for himself. Spectroscopic breakdowns of surviving samples didn't seem to be doing him any good.
He wondered what the government would say to that.
He locked the files away before stepping out of his office. Agnes Moore, his secretary, looked up from her typing as he headed for the exit.
"I need to look at this site myself, Agnes." He paused with his hand on the door. "Can you find out where the site is exactly?"
"I can check, sir." Agnes pushed back from her typewriter. "Should I book you a flight?"
"An address should be okay to start." Galvin smiled. "I don't think I'm supposed to look at the problem with my own eyes."
"I'll see what I can do." Agnes checked her pad. "You have a meeting with Agent Stevens at three. Otherwise, you're clear for the day."
"Marty Staples is supposed to send over material from the archive. Just put it on my desk when it gets here." He hated to tell Stevens that his problem was unsolvable. "I'll be back in a little bit. I just need some fresh air to think."
"I'll try to have that address for you." Agnes watched as he left the office. He seemed down. She hoped he felt better when he returned.
Usually he solved problems in a few days. This one must really have him stumped.
Galvin decided to use the stairs and walk down to the lobby. He needed some kind of activity. The Bolo problem itched at the back of his head as he tried to put it out of his mind.
What had the man been doing when everything blew up on him?
He stepped out in the lobby. He didn't have anything to report to Stevens. He might have to admit failure and hand back the part of the fee he hadn't used yet.
If Marty found something, that might give him something to give to Stevens other than a I Don't Know.
"What's going on, Galvin?" Muskee Roberts nodded from his newspaper booth. The thing sat in the corner of the lobby so the old salesman could look out on the street in front of the building. "Busy?"
"Consulting job." Steppe closed on the booth. "How's things with you, Muskee?"
"The radio says the Shrike has been spotted." Roberts handed over a stick of gum and a newspaper. "Kidnaped some girl."
"When?" Steppe put the gum in his pocket.
"This morning sometime." The old man pointed vaguely into town. "Word is some bystander tried to stop him, but couldn't."
"Thanks, Muskee." Galvin decided that he might be missing his meeting after all.
The Shrike was a name he hadn't heard in a long time. He had put the man down during the war. He had thought that was the end of it.
He should have known better.
Steppe once would have had his costume in the trunk of his car. Those days were long gone. He walked down the curb to where he had parked his Ford and got in. He pulled out into traffic and headed home.
The Eagle would have to fly again.
He drove through traffic as fast as he dared. He didn't want to be stopped by the police, but he didn't want to drive so slow that he was too late for whatever the Shrike had planned.
The villain was one of the reasons why he had given up his masked identity. Maybe that had been more of a mistake than he had first thought.
Maybe he should have his presence out there so he could at least say he was doing something to stop the occasional villain that showed his face.
Steppe smiled. Kid Fire couldn't stop them all.
He parked in his driveway and hurried into his house. He went to his bedroom and removed the false ceiling door and pulled down his costume case. He hurriedly changed. He went to his phone before he pulled on his mask.
Agnes had to be ready if he didn't make it back to the office in time for the meeting.
He called the office and waited for her to pick up at her end.
"Agnes, it's me." Galvin hoped she would find a better boss if something happened to him. "Something has come up. If I can't get back to the office in time for the meeting, tell Stevens that I had to take care of some personal business."
"All right." She sounded doubtful over the phone. "Wouldn't it be better to reschedule?"
"Unless Marty comes up with something, we can't solve his problem with what he has given us." Galvin felt a pang. It hurt to admit defeat. "Did you get that address?"
"It's on your desk." Agnes tapped something on her end. "The material arrived from Marty. It's waiting on you too."
"I'll look at it when I get back." If I get back. "I'll talk to you as soon as I can."
He hung up and pulled on his hood. He smiled, wondering what he was doing. He should just call the police and let them handle this.
He wondered when he had become afraid. He must have lost his nerve during the war. What would the other Guardians say to him about it?
He took a breath. It had been a long time since he had used his suit. He stepped out in his back yard and jumped. He sailed into the air.
He turned toward the mountain outside of town. If the Shrike was back, there was the first place he should look for him. After that, he could start searching other places that towered above the city. The villain liked places where he could look down on others.
How did this victim fit in with things? Why a kidnaping in broad daylight? What was he missing?
He sailed through the air. He should never have given up the flying. That part was great. It was like getting rid of all his troubles just to leave the ground.
He spotted the concealed roost from a distance. It looked like he remembered.
He decided to circle around to see if he could avoid using the Shrike's front door. The villain might be expecting a flying man to show up.
He wondered what was behind this very public display after so long a time of silence.
Maybe it was to draw him out. The Eagle had not been in the public eye in a long time.
He spotted a man in a familiar costume climbing out of an opening in the mountain. He turned to swoop down on the other man. Then he noticed the rocket launcher. He wasn't going to be able to dive down in time to prevent the missile from being fired.
The villain placed the launcher on his shoulder and pulled the trigger. A plume of smoke followed the rocket as it headed up from the hidden lair.
Galvin was already committed to a dive. He realized that he was heading right for the missile. He turned to dive away from the attack. He could pull up and circle around after he lost the projectile.
The rocket passed him. He pulled out of his dive. He realized the missile had turned when he heard the sound of the motor behind him. He went into another dive. The missile followed him.
The Shrike had decided on using a heat seeker to get rid of his enemy once and for all.
Steppe headed for the ground as fast as his suit allowed. He had a thought that he could outrun the missile if he was fast enough.
Maybe he could shake the thing off with a tree, or a rock. They weren't very bright as a follower.
3
Lazarus Tremaine crossed to the unmoving bushes and paused. He didn't see any security to prevent him from moving forward. He doubted his quarry had a large organization behind him.
He pushed the plants out of his way. He peered into an alcove. It looked like a solid wall at the back of the niche.
He felt the wall with a gloved hand. It seemed solid. Maybe he had been wrong about a secret door.
He tried the walls on either side. He found a panel cover after feeling around. He opened the panel and found four numbered buttons. He pushed his hat back. Of course there would a lock on the door. He should have seen that coming.
Tremaine considered the four numbers. He pulled out the pocket knife he carried. He undid the screws at the corners of the lock. He pulled off the cover so he could look at the wiring.
"Which ones do I put together?" He couldn't be considered a master of technology. He had spent a lot of time buried while things like electricity and radio had emerged. He felt he was on the right track.
He unscrewed the holders of the wiring from the back of the numbers. He felt one was hot through the insulation. He checked the others and they didn't give him the same tingling sensation. He peeled the rubber sheathes from those three wires and then peeled the end from the live one without touching the wire itself. He put the four wires back together without touching any of the metal.
A spark danced between the four wires. The wall swung inward. Tremaine pulled the wires apart and dropped them. He stepped inside the foyer revealed behind the concealed door.
A set of steps led up from the door. He saw another door at the top of the stairs. He supposed it was to keep people on the stairwell while the owner flew off.
He thought he heard something from outside but he ignored it. He examined the new obstacle. He found ordinary locks on the door. If he had skeleton keys, or a pick, he could open them all. Since he didn't have the tools, he needed to resort to brute force.
He checked and found four hinges. The bolts were inside the room. There was no way he could pull the rods out from his side of the barrier.
He went to work on the locks. Each one had screws holding them to the door. He took the screws out as fast as he could. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't want to be caught flatfooted on the landing.
His mind divided into listening for anyone approaching the door from the other side, working the screws as fast as he could with his knife, and wondering what was going on.
The question of what was going on took up most of his thoughts. Why a broad daylight kidnaping? It said the kidnaper didn't care if he was seen, or wanted to be seen. The stranger on the street had seemed to know the masked man's costume. So he was known in the city. The police would be looking for him based on what the witnesses told them.
How many flying men attacked the city? Did he want to stick around to find out? Whatever was bothering was in the west. When he was done with this, he would continue in that direction.
He smiled. He didn't have to chase the madman into the mountains. He could have kept on riding. That wouldn't have been true to his new lease on life.
The sheriff would have been disappointed if she found out, and he didn't want that. He wanted to hold true to his redemption.
He had so much to make up for after being a murderer all those years.
Killing Johnny Shield had been the least of his crimes in his opinion. The hero had ripped his head off before he died. He had also started him back to where he had started and this new road.
Too bad he couldn't thank the masked man for that.
The screws came out of the locks and dropped to the floor. He pulled on the door handle. The mechanism came out of the holes bored in the door. He placed the heavier pieces on the ground. He pushed the door open after he pulled out the last lock with his knife.
He hoped the woman was still alive after all the time he had taken.
He stepped inside and listened. He heard some crying. He followed the sound, wondering at the dust. Maybe the flying man had been away for a long time.
Why had he returned now? That led back to the daylight nature of the crime. What had been gained from it?
He moved down the hall, a shadow among shadows. He found the source of the crying in a small room that might have been a broom closet at one point. He opened the door and held up a hand. One loud noise would do in this rescue.
"I'm here to help you." He kept an eye on her. He didn't want her trying to attack him and ruining everything.
"Who are you?" She jumped to her feet. Her flight across the sky had left her disheveled. "How did you get here?"
"There's a ladder up the mountain." Tremaine gestured for her to come on. "There's a road down there you can take back to town. If you stay to the trees, he might miss you in the dark."
"He's crazy." The woman stepped out in the hall and looked around. "He kept talking about blowing up the mountain. The city owes him."
"I'll see what I can do to stop that." Tremaine took her arm. "I need you to get out of the way while I look around. There's probably going to be trouble if we run into each other, and you don't want to be around when that happens."
"He's got these claws and things." She flexed her hands. "Watch out for them if he finds you."
"Here's the door." Tremaine used the hole where the knob used to be to pull the door open. "There's steps down to an outer door. There's a ladder just off the edge. Use those to get down to the ground. The rest is an easy walk."
"I recognize you now." The woman jumped up and down. "You were at the diner. You grabbed my leg."
Tremaine covered her mouth with his hand. She frowned at him over his fingers.
"You won't be able to escape if he hears you." He kept his voice down to a whisper. "If he plans to do something to the mountain, he won't balk at just dropping you over the side."
She tried to talk through the quieting hand.
"Softly." Tremaine took his hand away. "Now I need you to leave. If things get dicey, I don't want to worry about you getting in the way."
"Be careful." She stepped in the stairwell and started down.
Tremaine let the door close. He hoped she didn't fall down the mountain.
He decided that he needed to conduct a search. What could the Shrike be planning? How did he hope to affect the mountain?
It had to be something about the way the mountain overlooked Mt. Airy. Maybe he planned to cause some kind of landslide. How would he do it?
Tremaine decided that some kind of explosive placed in the right spot could do the job. It depended on how much explosive the villain had, and where he planted it.
Why take the lady as a preamble? What was he missing from the situation?
He doubted she was involved other than being the victim. She didn't have the emotional temperament he associated with dangerous people like himself.
The cowboy started checking the rooms. Maybe there was a stockpile he could take care of before it was deployed. That would render any thought of using the explosives moot.
Then he could start worrying about dragging the Shrike back to town.
Tremaine found what he was looking for stacked in crates in the center of what used to be a workshop of some kind. A lot of the boxes had Property of the US Government stamped on the side. He opened one and found what looked like a rocket sitting in a padded holder.
Pain shot through his back. He felt blood leak down his back as he rolled away from the hurt. Apparently the villain was back in action.
"A snoop." The Shrike hovered off the floor. Blood dripped from his right hand claws. "How did you get up here?"
Tremaine got to his feet and looked around. How could he turn this to his advantage? He couldn't fly which gave his opponent the edge.
"I guess you let the tramp go." The Shrike flexed his hands. "Doesn't matter. She's going to die with the rest. I'll just have to make sure to take care of it personally."
The medium waited, feeling his back heal quietly from the slices. If he could keep the man talking, he might be able to turn it to his advantage.
"I don't have a lot of time." The flying menace raised his hands. "I'm going to kill you and worry about my questions later."
Tremaine waited. He couldn't run, didn't have a gun, and couldn't fly to attack. He could only wait for the Shrike to close with him. He knew it was going to hurt if he wasn't quick about things.
The claws sliced the air as the killer swooped down. They cut the air as their target leaped over a stack of crates. The flying villain turned to follow.
The cowboy used the crates for height and jumped from them as he turned around to retrace his steps. He hit the villain but he couldn't get a grip. He landed on his feet in the open.
The Shrike swung his arm, trying to claw his enemy as he turned around. He missed the ducking cowboy.
Another flying man swooped down and knocked the Shrike into a wall. He steadied himself in the air.
"What is your scheme this time, Carson?" The Eagle looked at the crates. "Blowing something up?"
"You're too late." The Shrike braced against the wall. "I already have more than enough to level the town. All I have to do is wait. You'll never find the packages in time. Mt. Airy is done."
"What is wrong with you?" The Eagle shook his head.
4
Tremaine frowned at the confrontation. How could this be settled rapidly? He had not thought that serving community service would lead to this.
"Find the explosives." He would be at a disadvantage, but it had to be done. "I can handle this."
"You can't save the city, Vin." The Shrike hovered in the air. "All I have to do is hold you here and you won't even get a chance to try."
"I don't think so." The Eagle headed for the skylight he had used to enter the aerie.
The Shrike followed him. It would be fun to knock his enemy from the sky as he tried to save his city one last time. A hand latching on his ankle caused him to pause and consider his earthbound nemesis.
"I think you should let go before you get what you got at the diner." The bird man hovered in the air.
"It's over." Tremaine's eyes glinted blue under the brim of his hat. "It's time for you to give up."
"Nothing's over!" The Shrike jetted into the air, dragging his anchor with him. "Let me give you a lesson in flying for your next life."
Tremaine held on as they flew through the skylight and headed for open sky. He frowned at the mountain below them, and the city in the distance. He doubted he would survive a fall from the height they were at, and the Shrike was still climbing.
He had to do something to ground the flying menace.
He tried to pull himself up the other man's leg. If he could get a choke hold, he might be able to knock the villain out long enough to stop their climb. The air was thinning out, and he might pass out if he didn't do something to stop their ascension.
Things like this made him miss his undead body.
Claws swept at him. He swung away as best he could. He knew it was a move geared to making him let go. Once he did that, there was only one direction to go.
Tremaine waited as the claws stabbed for his arms again. He gauged the risks and thought he might have a plan to turn things around. He just needed a chance to make it work to his advantage.
If he missed, he would be a meteor heading to a crater in the ground.
The Shrike swung again, bending his body to reach his hitchhiker. The cowboy let go of his leg. He smiled underneath his mask. That was one way to deal with a pest.
A gloved hand latched around his wrist above his taloned gauntlet.
The Shrike swung his other arm. He could cut the hand off his unwanted passenger and watch him plummet to his death.
A punch to his gut stopped him. The pads built into his shirt stopped the full force of the blow, but what got through was enough to make him feel sick.
Tremaine pressed his advantage by grabbing the shirt of his enemy. He needed to score some kind of knockout blow before the man could shake him off.
The cowboy punched the man in the neck while he was swinging in the air. He knew the blow didn't have that much force behind it. He just needed a distraction from the headlong flight.
At least they weren't still climbing straight up. They were tumbling through the air as they struggled.
The Shrike stabbed his enemy in the side with his talons. He jerked the blades out so he could stab again. It had been a long time since he had been this close to someone he was killing. Maybe he had lost his touch.
At least his enemy was bleeding to death in front of him.
Tremaine blocked the next stab. He couldn't lose any more blood. Blackness crept along the edges of his vision. He might pass out before he could stop the other man.
The cowboy grabbed the man's neck. He had to knock the flier out so he couldn't escape. He had to do something before he lost his grip.
Tremaine punched the mask with his forearm. He forced it to one side. The Shrike struggled to unblock his vision.
They started tumbling faster as the flying menace lost control.
The medium smiled through the pain in his side. It wasn't the best situation, but he had the upper hand now. He needed a way to take advantage of it. He doubted he could point his enemy at the ground and try to jump before they hit the ground at full speed.
Tremaine swung around so he was behind the Shrike as they fell. He hooked a forearm under the man's chin and started squeezing the man's neck. He kept up the pressure as they fell toward the ground.
As he struggled, he had a brief thought that maybe he should start carrying a pistol again. That would have made this a whole lot easier to handle.
Tremaine had been a fast gun in his day. One bullet would have kept them on the ground.
The Shrike pulled out of his dive. He hovered in position as he tried to pull the grip from his neck. He had to free up his airways before he passed out.
He clawed at the forearm with his fingers before he decided to stab with the knives built into his gauntlets. He had to break the grip no matter what.
He stabbed the forearm around his neck twice before the grip loosened. Blood dropped down on his shirt. He took a deep breath.
Now all he had to do was get rid of this meddler so he could enjoy his revenge.
A long drop to the ground would just be the thing he needed to make his day a little brighter.
The Shrike spun in place to shake off the nuisance. He had to make sure the Eagle didn't stop his plan. That was more important than some fugitive from a Gary Cooper movie.
A punch to the face changed his mind. He had enough annoyance from the pest. It was time to see if he could fly on his own.
The Shrike began stabbing with his talons. He caught punches in exchange as they started spinning again. He kicked out and he was free.
Now he could find the Eagle and deal with him.
A hand grabbed his hood and twisted it to blind him again. Another hand punched him in the ear. The pads in his hood protected his head as the blows rocked him.
He slashed blindly with his gauntlets. How much could this guy take? He hadn't looked like anything special before this started. Now he was a major inconvenience.
Pain lanced through his chest. One of his arms had been redirected and he stabbed himself along the ribs. He paused at the blending of anger and minor lancing telling him he needed to get free from the cowboy.
Something struck his head again. He thought it was an elbow, but he wasn't sure. His internal sense of balance was off. He didn't know where he was, or how far they had moved across the sky.
He didn't know if he was flying too low, or if he was close to the ground at all.
"Watch out for that tree." The Shrike gained control enough to stop in midair at the warning. Then something struck him in the back of the head. His face hit something like a column. He lost control again, and slammed against things in the dark.
Tremaine grabbed a branch as he watched the Shrike smash against the trees. He dropped down beside the hurting villain. He checked his own wounds before he checked the killer.
He needed to be sewed up. He had lost a portion of blood, and needed a bandage to hold in the rest. His forearm had stab wounds, and was also leaking like the wounds in his side, and chest. And it looked like he was a long walk from a doctor.
He wondered what he could do for the Shrike. He doubted he could carry the guy to civilization to get him fixed up.
He also didn't want to carry the guy anywhere.
He smiled. It had been a lot easier being a bad guy. The choices were a lot simpler.
Tremaine checked the Shrike as best he could. The man had a couple of stab wounds, but they weren't deep. He might have cracked a couple of ribs from bouncing down through the trees.
There was no way for him to tell since he wasn't a doctor.
How did he get the guy down from the mountain side? It was a long walk back to Mt. Airy.
He decided to sit down and rest. Maybe his wounds would heal up enough for him to get moving without problems if he took a moment.
He used his belt to tie the Shrike to a tree first so he didn't have to worry about him for a while.
Tremaine hoped that one of the bombs wasn't close by. He had already had a hard day. He didn't need to get caught in an explosion and landslide on top of everything else.
What was going on with the guy to threaten a city for no reason? Why had he taken the woman from the diner? That had been a specific thing.
It was almost like he had wanted to call the Eagle out to try and stop him.
At least Tremaine had spoiled that for him.
That made reformation worthwhile in his opinion.
The cowboy closed his eyes and thought about what he could do to get them down from the mountain.
5
Galvin Steppe had sharp eyes. They were like a raptor's. He scanned the mountain as he circled it. He didn't see anything that might be an explosive.
Had Carson been able to hide the amount of munitions needed effectively?
What if the threat had been some kind of bluff?
The Eagle hovered for a moment as he thought. Maybe Carson had lied about where he had planted the explosive. Where was the real location?
He flew back to the aerie and looked around. The only thing of interest was the boxes of ordnance stolen from the army. There were empty slots to show something had been inside the wooden crates.
Carson had taken the contents somewhere off the mountain.
Where would he have taken them? What was the real target? Who was the target?
Steppe felt the scheme still had something to do with the enmity between the two of them. Carson would have selected some place that meant something to his enemy. It would have been personal.
Maybe that was the whole reason to draw the Eagle out and to the mountain overlooking the city. He wanted it known that the Shrike was creating terror again.
It meant that the flier was away from the target for whatever reason.
The Eagle flew down toward the city. There were two, or three, places that Carson would have decided to blow up to cause problems. He had to check them out as fast as he could.
At least that stranger was keeping him busy somehow. Otherwise, the Shrike would have been all over him, causing additional problems.
Galvin headed for his house first. He needed to make sure that it was safe. And it had a phone.
He flew around the outside before landing in the backyard. He went inside and went to the phone. He checked it first before he dialed his office.
It would be like Carson to rig up the phone to blow him up when he used it.
He had called earlier so maybe it was safe.
"Steppe and Staples." Agnes sounded bright and alert. "How can I help you?"
"It's me, Agnes." Galvin struggled on what to tell her. "I need you to clear the office."
"What's going on?" She didn't sound as worried as she should be.
"I had a talk with the Shrike." Steppe hated to admit that. "There's a chance he put a bomb somewhere in the building. I need you to clear everyone out and call the fire department to see if they know someone who can find it for us. Can you do that?"
"On my way." Agnes hung up the phone.
Steppe hung up his own phone. He went to the secret space where he kept his costume. He was glad that it was empty. That would have been the likeliest place for an explosive. He searched the rest of the house as thoroughly and fast as he could manage.
Where else would Carson target?
He had been sure that his house, or business, would be the primary target. If Agnes didn't find anything at the office, he could mark that off. Where else would appeal to Carson?
What other place would be personal enough for the Shrike to blow up?
Galvin decided to take to the air again. Maybe he would think of something while he was flying. What would he blow up if their roles were reversed?
The Eagle soared over his city. His house was clear. The office could be blown up, but if Agnes could clear everyone out, he would only lose the records of his business. The only other place important to him was the college where he had learned to fly.
There was also the asylum he had signed Carson into after his defeats. There were an unknown number of doctors, nurses, orderlies, and patients wandering the halls. Would Carson attack it?
The question was how could Galvin make sure it was safe for everyone without causing a panic.
And then there was Dennis Cauley. Carson blamed him for everything bad that had happened to him since the war. Carson had gone after him on his first spree.
Steppe decided to start there. If Cauley was the real target, then getting him out of the way had to come before searching his own building.
If he was wrong, at least he had warned Agnes of the danger. He knew she would have acted on his warning.
The Eagle swooped down over a neighborhood full of expensive houses. He looked for one house in particular. It had a statue of a small footman holding up a lantern. That was Cauley's house. He had bought it off the convictions of dozens of gangsters and major criminals.
He had prosecuted Carson for his first major crimes, and went for the maximum.
The Shrike had proven to be an escape artist and returned to battle Galvin and the police a few more times without ever being identified.
Only Steppe knew who he was, and how he had gained the ability to fly.
He had arranged for Carson to be held at the asylum between battles. That had worked out better. He couldn't get out of a place with no opening to the air.
That didn't stop the villain from escaping, just delayed him while he looked for an opening in the perimeter.
Galvin flew around the house. He saw Cauley sitting in a chair in the kitchen. The older man had his paper on the table in front of him. A plate of food stood to one side. The lawyer didn't move a muscle as far as the hero could tell from the windows.
What was going on?
The Eagle paused at the back door. He knocked as loud as he could. He frowned under his mask. Maybe he had been right about Carson's real target after all.
"Who is it?" Cauley sounded strained.
"It's the Eagle, Cauley." Steppe wondered if Cauley would give him permission to come inside. "Can I come inside and talk with you?"
"I'm sitting on a bomb." The attorney sounded more sure of himself. "Get the police here. I don't know how much longer I have before I set it off."
"I'm coming in." Steppe smashed out an inset window next to the door. He reached inside and made sure the lock was turned. He opened the door and stepped in the kitchen. "Anybody else here?"
"No." Cauley didn't shake his head with the statement. He seemed afraid that even that little movement would set off the bomb. "Ellen is out for the day. I don't know when she's coming back."
The Eagle went to a light switch. He checked it before he turned the overhead on. He could see that Cauley had been stuck in place for the whole day. A black box was taped under the chair. Anything could be in it.
"How do you know it's a bomb?" He inspected the box by laying on the floor. He could see screws held it to the bottom of the chair.
"There was a note tucked in my paper." Cauley didn't bother picking up the paper. "It was from the Shrike."
"There's something there." The Eagle stood. He looked around the kitchen. He had no doubt if he unscrewed the box it would blow up. What were his options?
He sized up the direction to the door. It was a clear line if he moved the table out of the way. He did that, leaning it up against the sink by tilting it on its side. That might offer protection when they passed it. He went to the door and pulled it open. He used a boot rack full of boots to hold it in place.
"I don't know how long we got, so I am going to try to get you out of this right now." The Eagle checked for any other obstructions as he talked. "I need you to raise your arms and keep them raised. Then we're going to try to get out of the house before the bomb goes off."
"Are you crazy?" Cauley didn't stand up. "This thing could kill both of us. Call the police."
"I would love to, but what happens if you blow up before they get here." He doubted the old man could hold his position for much longer. "Just do what I tell you. I'll get you out of here."
The Eagle retreated to the other side of the house. He had a rough line to where the attorney sat, and the door beyond. He would have to take a curve if he didn't want to hit a wall.
"Raise your arms." He bounced on his feet. "We're only going to have one shot at this."
The Eagle circled the room to build up speed. He avoided the walls and ceiling as he went faster and faster. He straightened out and dove at the human target where he sat. He secured a grip and kept flying. He dragged Cauley behind him.
He passed through the back door and started climbing. He wanted the bulk of the house between him and the bomb when it went off. His passenger didn't slow him down as he headed for clear sky.
Rolling thunder shook the house below. Windows flew out in a spray in front of the wave of fire from the bomb. Then the roof collapsed from another explosion.
"My house!" Cauley groaned at the devastation. "It's gone."
"At least you're alive." The Eagle turned and landed in front of the wreck. "You can get another house."
"At least Ellen is safe." The attorney shook his head at the burning mess. "I'll have to get the police to tell her what happened."
"Better make arrangements to stay somewhere for the night." The hero knew the city would be screaming for the Shrike's blood because of this. "If he thinks you're dead, he might leave you alone."
"I'm going to throw the city's resources behind this and track him down." Cauley's face firmed in his anger. "I'm going to do whatever I can to put him in the chair."
"Good luck with that." The Eagle took flight. "I have to see if he planted bombs in anyone else's house."
Steppe headed up. He had to talk to the Shrike and see what he could do about fixing this mess. He hoped the cowboy hadn't got killed trying to stop the villain.
What did Carson hope to accomplish with this?
What about the woman the Shrike had kidnaped? Where had she gone during all this? He hoped someone had answers for him.
He spotted a car slowly driving down the mountain road. He dropped by and saw a woman at the wheel. He waved at her before moving on.
At least he knew where the kidnap victim had gone.
Now he had to find the cowboy and Carson.
Epilogue
Galvin Steppe sat at his desk. He looked at the reports from Scott Bolo's explosion, and the newspaper detailing the day and night the Shrike had been active. Both were important for different reasons.
The door opened a crack. Agnes peeked in. She smiled slightly. It had been a touch of excitement for her. Searching the building had been taken seriously after Dennis Cauley's house went poof.
"Mr. Wilcox is here from the government." She frowned at his distracted look. "Do you want me to send him away?"
"No. I might as well get this over with." Steppe waved a hand. He put the newspaper in a drawer as Agnes turned to speak with their visitor.
Finding the cowboy had taken a few minutes, but he had been alive after the struggle to bring down Carson. He had put his back against a tree and wrapped up wounds with strips torn from his shirt.
Wilcox stepped into his office. He appeared like any government bureaucrat that Galvin had dealt with over the years. A suit with sunglasses was the problem solver's impression.
"What have you found out?" The agent sat down in the visitor's chair.
"Nothing really." Steppe leaned back in his chair. "Everything was destroyed, and we don't have enough to figure out how Bolo got the thing to do whatever it did."
"You don't have anything?" Wilcox leaned forward.
"I can say that Scott Bolo wasn't killed by whatever happened." Galvin shrugged. "That's the only thing I can tell you for sure."
The event had reduced things to pieces. According to what was in the file, none of it was human.
It pained Galvin to admit it, but there was no way he and his partner could put things back together. They would have to return the money for the contract. That was the least they could do.
"Where did he go?" The agent waved a hand. "Neighbors said he was working. They saw a man go in, and then the house blew up. The visitor made it out in the yard before the house went, but not Bolo."
"His body parts weren't in the machinery." Steppe shrugged. "Maybe he got out of the back where no one saw him."
"Then where did he go?" Wilcox frowned. "We don't have a record of him leaving the country."
"Either he blew himself up, he fled, or he turned into a beam of light and shot into space." Galvin indicated the last measure with both hands doing a little jump to the ceiling. "Given there were no hands or feet found, I am voting for fleeing."
"Thanks for your time." Wilcox stood. He held out a hand for the file.
"Agnes will have a check for you so you can get most of your money back." Galvin stood and handed over the papers. "I had to use some of it for expenses."
"Is there anything you can tell me?" Wilcox looked like a man who didn't want to go home empty-handed.
"If you can get me Alex Arthur, I would gladly beat whatever his machine was supposed to do out of him." Steppe smiled. "Otherwise, there's nothing I can do with what's left."
"We're thinking that Arthur did the same thing that Bolo did." Wilcox walked out of the office as Agnes stuck her head in.
"There's a Doctor Miles on the phone." She kept her voice down so Wilcox wouldn't hear.
"Thank you." Galvin sat down. "Write Wilcox a check for the money we haven't spent trying to figure out his problem."
"Yes, sir." Agnes closed the door as she went back to her desk.
Galvin paused before he picked up the phone. Did he really want to answer this call? He decided it was the only thing he could do.
"Hello, Doctor." He hoped for good news.
"Hello, Mr. Steppe." The doctor sounded more tired than the last time they spoke. "Carson is back in his cell. He's a little worse for wear."
"He fell out of a tree." That was close enough to the truth. "Will he be all right?"
The explanation was close enough to what had happened. Galvin had found Carson tied to a tree with the cowboy sitting next to another tree. Both of them had been covered in blood. The Eagle took the cowboy to his motorcycle before taking the Shrike back to his lair and getting his clothes changed so he could be taken back to the hospital.
Steppe made sure the lair held no clue leading back to Carson afterwards.
"No." Miles sounded apologetic. "He was ranting and raving about some motorcycle rider he wants to fillet. He was kicking his cell door until we administered a sedative. He's sleeping now."
"Isn't there something you can do for him?" Galvin leaned back in his chair. The asylum had held Carson for most of his adult life. The fact he could escape was no reflection on them. They didn't know he could fly.
"No." Miles paused as if in thought. "He has built up a tolerance for drugs, and is not affected by electroshock. Sensory deprivation has allowed him to attack the orderlies before he could be subdued. He attacks the other inmates at every chance he gets. The only thing left to try is to lobotomize him in hopes that his personality will become calmer. It is my opinion that he will always remain a danger to society unless steps are taken."
"What happens if you're wrong?" Galvin thought about turning another human being into a mindless idiot.
He didn't approve of the process.
"Mr. Steppe, Carson has escaped five times in the last ten years. Each time he has come back with wounds. Three of the times he has attacked a staff member as part of the escape. We still don't know how he escaped this time. I think that he will continue until something bad happens to him, or anyone he is near." Dr. Miles sounded less than happy himself. "In my opinion, he will continue to hurt himself and others until something is done."
"Send over the paperwork to my office." Galvin sat back in his chair. He hated having to make that choice. "I'll sign the releases and send them back."
"You're doing the right thing, Mr. Steppe." Miles hung up.
It didn't feel like the right thing. It felt like he was betraying Carson for a little bit of comfort. Did he want to do that?
He had tried to help Carson as much as possible. He had taught him how to fly in the first place. Then the other man had become the Shrike to get revenge on everyone he hated.
Galvin put the receiver down. Was he fixing a mistake, or doing the right thing? How could he know what was the right thing to do? Things were simpler in the air.
He went to the door. He had to get some air. Agnes looked at him, but he simply waved at her and walked out of the office. He headed for the roof. He needed to see the open space above the city.
Had he chosen wrong all those years ago? Should he have just let Carson go to prison? Was he protecting him, or himself? How many people had been hurt because he had never revealed who Carson was, and what he looked like to the public?
What had been the right thing to do?
Would he ever really know?
Had he done the right thing retiring as the Eagle? Had he done it because of this doubt, or because of Carson? What about the others who were still out there doing things? Did they have moments like this?
Galvin looked out from his perch. He studied every building. He studied everyone on the street that he could see. He studied the cars making their way along the avenue. He studied the mountain in the distance.
Had he done the right thing?
He looked out from his perch and knew that he had protected some of these people from others who wanted to take everything they had. He had handed the responsibility over to others, but he had done the best he could.
That was all anyone could ask of him.
And at least Cauley and his daughter was safe from Carson. Ellen had called from the base of the mountain to let her dad know she was alive. That was when she had found out about the bomb in their house.
At least the attorney could rebuild his house, and was safe from the Shrike.
Steppe had arranged for a doctor for the stranger, but he had moved on without taking any treatment.
Galvin turned away from the roof and headed back to his office. He wasn't sure he had done the right things in the past. He could only be sure that he had tried the best he could. Maybe he wasn't ready to be the Eagle again, but he would do what he could when he had the chance.
And the first thing he had to do was make sure the city was safe from Carson from that point on.
That was a clear cut choice for him to make. He was forced to agree with Dr. Miles. The Shrike would always be there to try and hurt people. He had to be stopped.
If it took brain surgery, then that's what would happen.
If he retained his personality, he would keep trying to kill people to satisfy whatever need he had.
Galvin couldn't allow anyone else to be hurt from his decision in the past. He had to make sure Carson was harmless.
He knew that was right choice.
"Dr. Miles is sending over some papers for me to sign, Agnes." Galvin headed for his office. "Let me know when they get here. I'll have to send them right back."
"No problem." Agnes frowned at him. "Are you okay?"
"I will be." Galvin tried to smile. "What's next on our agenda?"
"We are supposed to look at a prototype engine for Barrington." Agnes handed over the paperwork. "They can't seem to make it work more than once."
"Let me look at the tests." Galvin went into his office and tried to read as he waited for the messenger to arrive with his brother's lobotomy orders.