Then he found the knot outside, twisted at it, and untied it. In moments he was drawing the sack down around his neck and shoulders, glancing about to see if anyone was watching.
The place he had been thrown was deserted. Crates and packages were stacked along the sides of what appeared to be a storage hold. Now the Phantom could clearly distinguish the hum of airplane engines. And he could see the dark sky through a small porthole.
He stepped out of the laundry bag, removed Prince Tydore’s robe and turban, and made a quick reconnaissance of the plane. He was in the cargo hold of a freight transport. It was without passenger seats.
The Phantom could distinguish at least two men, and perhaps a third, in the cockpit. He recognized Baldy’s gleaming skull. He did not recognize the other man; he seemed to have a very small head on a very large body.
After a few calesthenics, deep breathing, and some yoga relaxation exercises, the Phantom felt rejuvenated. He climbed back into the laundry bag and reknotted the ropes.
He did not know how long he would have to wait for the plane to reach its destination, but he felt much better attired only in his skintight costume, hood, mask—and his weapons.
“It’s a lot of trouble to go to,” the Phantom said to himself. “But it’s worth it, if I’m finally going to find out where they’re keeping Diana.”
It was daylight on the tropical beach where Sheik-al-Jabal Hara Kali stood peering into the sky. The radio message had been loud and clear: Prince Tydore had been seized and was being conveyed to the island.
Where was the plane?
Kali glanced impatiently at his wristwatch once again, pulling the sleeve of his crimson robe back to see the face. According to his calculations, the ship should be in sight now. Had something unforeseen happened?
He paced the small dock leading out into the bay. Those fools he had working for him in America had panicked once too often over some foolish, imagined Phantom! They would simply have to be replaced. It did not do for an Assassin to fear a ghost.
He lifted his head.
Was that the sound of an engine in the sky?
He squinted against the light, adjusting the monocle in his right eye, frowning slightly.
Yes!
The plane was coming into sight. Instantly, he felt exulted, elated and confident, for the first time in many hours. It seemed that almost everything that could go wrong had gone wrong with this series of operations.
First the interference with Diana Palmer’s ransom. Then the abortive kidnap attempt on Princess Naji. And the Prince’s ransom. But now, finally, Kali had Prince Tydore where he wanted him. He could ransom him for more than the ten million dollars he had originally intended. Maybe twenty million dollars. Maybe more!
Kali was rubbing his hands with glee.
Then, with the money, he could mount that scintillating attack on the American government, the attack that would divert all the riches of that country into the coffers of the Assassins. Then Kali could make the power play that would eventually take over the world!
The amphibian grew larger, its shape now quite distinct against the hot white sky.
As the ship lowered and curved in for a landing in the bay, its pontoons were gleaming in sunlight reflected from the water.
Hands clasped behind his robe, Kali moved to the end of the dock and watched. From behind him, he could hear the footsteps of several of his followers, dressed as he was in crimson robe and turban—the blood-red costume of the Cult of the Silken Noose.
The plane skipped down onto the water, throwing jets of foam high into the air, then slowly settled down into the bay. With the propellers idling, the ship coasted over toward the dock, rocking gently.
Kali caught the line and looped it around a stanchion. Through the cockpit window, he could see his men, grinning out at him. Ibn Saud, with his bald pate. Abu Fantu, with that short haircut. And Jamal Ingrin, the third member of the trio.
The crewmen climbed out of the ship and hopped to the dock.
“We’ve got him!” Ibn’s bald head was gleaming with perspiration. “It was a breeze!”
Kali waved his hand irritably. “Let me see him.”
Abu and Ibn ran to the side of the fuselage and quickly undid the snap locks on the loading port. The side lowered to the dock, and Kali could see inside the hold.
A large green bag lay tied in the middle of the deck.
“Laundry bag, Sheik Kali,” said Ibn with a grin. “Nobody saw us take him out of the hotel.”
“Let him out.” Kali’s hands were trembling with eagerness.
Abu jumped into the hold and lifted the bundle by the armpits.
“He’s plenty heavy for an old man,” he laughed, rolling the sack out toward Ibn.
“Don’t worry,” Kali said, “he’ll lose some weight in that cell we’ve got waiting for him.”
The two men lowered the laundry bag to the dock. Kali stood over the bundle in eager anticipation.
“Open it up. I want to take a look at this man who means so many millions to me.” He couldn’t help gloating just a bit. It was all coming into focus, finally, after the many years of planning.
Ibn nodded and untied the knot, pulling the mouth of the opening wide.
Instantly the entire laundry bag shook, trembled, and dropped to the dock.
Out stepped a man dressed in skintight costume, wiili mask, with holstered weapons, and with a well-muscled body bursting forth from the garment.
“The Phantom!” croaked Ibn, his eyes rolling up into his head.
Angrily Kali backed off. “You bungling fools! Is this your nemesis?”
“But, Kali,” whined Ibn in a strangled voice. “I don’t know how—
“So you are Kali,” said the Phantom with a smile. “It’s about time we met face to face.”
“Seize him!” shouted Kali, motioning to the men- who stood with him on the dock—men armed with knives and pistols. “Kill him!”
With drawn knives, the Assassins leaped on the Phantom en masse. There was a flailing of fists and a chorus of grunts and groans. One Assassin fired a shot. The Phantom was bowled over backward. He twisted, cried out, and slipped into the water.
Kali folded his arms in satisfaction.
“Finish him off,” he ordered.
Three Assassins dove in, knives drawn.
The water boiled and seethed.
It turned red.
Kali stroked his mustache. “Well, Ibn,” he told the bald man, his monocle glinting. “That’s the end of your Phantom.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The bars of the cell windows were quite high, but Diana Palmer could see out if she dragged the chair over next to the wall and climbed up on it. There had been a great commotion outside, but Diana could not tell what had happened because she could not see anything but the courtyard outside the cell window.
She had heard the sound of the plane, and shortly after that, shouts and cries from the beach. Then there had been a great deal of running around outside the castle.
Then silence.
Now Diana listened to the footsteps of someone walking down the corridor toward her cell. The rhythm of the steps and the force with which they struck the paving blocks told her they were Kali’s.
Suddenly the cell door jiggled and a key turned in the lock. Kali stood there, resplendent in his crimson robe.
“Come in here,” Kali said to the man with him—a man in turban and loincloth, the work dress she had come to associate with Kali’s followers.
Diana stood up, watching the red-robed tyrant. His normally imperturbable exterior was somehow ruffled.
“Has my ransom been paid?” Diana asked eagerly.
Kali’s eyes narrowed. The monocle flashed with reflected light. “I’m not here to discuss that, my dear.”
“Then what is it?” Diana asked as insolently as she could.
Kali gazed at her briefly and turned to grasp the Assassin’s naked arm. “Come here, Musa.”
The h
eavy-featured Assassin complied without a word. He stood in front of Diana.
“Look at that man’s jaw,” Kali said slowly. “Does that mark mean anything to you?”
Diana studied the heavy-set man’s face carefully. Musa was deeply tanned, his flesh as tough as leather. However, near the left side of his mouth a red bruise stood out fairly clearly. Diana’s heart began pounding.
It was the Sign of the Skull! The imprint had come from the Phantom’s ring!
Diana knew that the Phantom had come to the island to save her.
“The Phantom!” she gasped involuntarily.
Kali frowned. He pulled Musa aside and pushed him toward the cell door. “That’s all. Get out.”
Diana backed away, her heart fluttering in her throat.
Kali watched her narrowly. “Then you do know him.”
“Yes,” Diana admitted. “And he’s here. I knew he would try to save me.” She pould not contain her exultation.
Kali began pacing. “My men are terrified of this person. They refuse to stand their guard shifts because of his presence.” He cursed. “How much do you know about him?”
“His name is Kit Walker,” said Diana. “He can do anything in the world. Some consider him a ghost Others consider him a saint.”
“But he’s just a man, isn’t he?” Kali’s eyes were betraying uncertainty.
“He’s a miracle worker,” Diana contradicted.
Kali slapped a fist into his palm. “He’s ruined my plans three times now. He’s not going to ruin them again.” Kali turned on her. “We killed him, you know.” His eyes brightened with triumph.
“No!” gasped Diana.
“In the sea. Just now. He assumed the identity of one of my kidnap victims and was flown here. And he was fool enough to identify himself in front of me and my men. They dove into the water after him and cut him to ribbons.” Kali was watching Diana.
“I can’t believe it,” wailed Diana.
“I wanted to be sure that he was the Phantom and that you knew him before I assured you he was dead,” Kali gloated.
“How did it—how did it happen?”
“When he stepped out on the dock in his uniform, my men attacked him with knives. They slashed him and he fell into the water. They followed, killing him.” Kali paused and watched Diana’s face.
“What did you do with him?” Diana’s eyes were filled with tears.
Kali’s eyes glinted. “His body drifted out to sea. We think the sharks finally got him.”
“You didn’t find his body?” Diana’s spirits rose.
“No,” Kali admitted. “My men are stupidly superstitious. They attribute superhuman powers to this man. But he’s dead, I can assure you of that, Miss Palmer. You know he’s no spirit from the other world!”
Diana concealed her elation. “He’s a real man,” she said. “Real men are no match for my people,” Kali said. “With the Phantom out of the way, I can once more open negotiations for your ransom, Miss Palmer, and finally kidnap Prince Tydore.”
“You’re a despicable man, Mr. Kali!” cried Diana, letting anger disguise her inner hope that the Phantom was alive and would save her. “Get out of my cell!”
Kali sneered. “You’re completely at my mercy now, my dear. I wouldn’t be so sassy if I were you.”
Sheik-al-Jabal Hara Kali prowled the corridors of the Crusader castle with his hands clasped behind him, his monocle reflecting the stray rays of sunlight that crept into the dank interior through the high archery slits.
“My men aren’t all that stupid,” he muttered to himself. “I’ve pretended to them I never heard of this Phantom, but of course I misled them deliberately. Now, with that bruise on Musa’s jaw, I know the truth for sure. The man who has been thwarting my every move is the Phantom.”
Kali fumbled in his robe for his cigarette holder and lighter. In a moment he was puffing furiously on his ivory filter.
“It was he who attacked my men on the North Bridge and shot up my transmitter. It was he who attacked Ibn in Prince Tydore’s car and kept us from taking Princess Naji. It was he who sent the pillowcase full of trinkets and books to the roof of the hotel. And it was he who impersonated Prince Tydore.”
Kali cursed.
“What happened to his body? Where is it? Maybe Ibn is right. Maybe he can walk on the bottom of the ocean! I couldn’t tell Diana Palmer the truth—that my men were killed underwater, that the Phantom vanished. Nor can I admit to my men that I too believe in the Phantom’s immortality!”
He rubbed his chin in frustration.
“If he’s a man, he’s indestructible! If he’s a ghost, there’s no way I can fight him. I have a problem of morale on my hands. How many of my men would stick by me if they knew I feared the Phantom more than anything else in the world?”
Kali snorted.
“They’ll never know.”
He paced the dank corridors of the dungeon wing. As he passed by one of the embrasures, he glanced out and saw the courtyard where Toto was chained.
His eyes lighted up.
“Toto! He’s my answer to the Phantom. If the Phantom lives and is on the island, Toto can smell him out and kill him.”
Kali puffed gleefully on his cigarette, watching the clouds roll up toward the damp ceiling.
“Toto has been trained from birth to kill anything that moves and is not impregnated with the smell of the Cult of the Silken Noose. When he sniffs out the Phantom, he’ll tear him limb from limb.”
Kali’s eyes narrowed.
“If, that is, the Phantom is flesh and blood and not thin air.”
He laughed.
“Toto, at least, is not afraid of ghosts.”
He hastened out of the dank corridor and called to his men.
“Release Toto!’9
With ease, the Phantom had dived backward into the shallow water at the side of the dock, avoiding the blows of the Assassins who had surged forward on Kali’s command.
Quickly reversing his body, he jackknifed under and turned away from the point where he had entered the water. Imme diately the surf was churned with the frenzied splashing of three Assassins coming after him.
The Phantom eeled away, watching them with amusement. He saw one grab another and stab at him repeatedly, the second releasing bubbles and screams simultaneously. Then the second went limp and sank to the sand below.
Number three turned away from the melee and saw the Phantom swimming to one side. He came immediately, knife stuck between his teeth. The Phantom waited, feigning inactivity, and the moment the third Assassin pulled the knife from his mouth and flung it at him, the Phantom reached for his own blade, raised it, and swiftly chopped at the Assassin from below.
Blood spurted out into the seawater.
The Assassin grabbed at the Phantom’s hand, trying to wrest the blade out of it. The Phantom gripped hard on the Assassin’s neck from behind, and the man went limp, sinking to the sand below.
The first Assassin had realized his error now and was swimming toward the Phantom with his own knife waving in front of him.
The Phantom dove to the bottom, lifted the dying man, raised him up to hurl him at the approaching Assassin.
Realizing the corpse was one of his companions, the killer with the knife backed off and swam around it to attack the Phantom from the other side.
Grasping the wrist of the attacker, the Phantom removed the knife without trouble and sliced the Assassin’s chest. The Assassin shrieked and swam upward for the surface, streaming blood.
The Phantom quickly swam out of sight and hid under the shadow of the amphibian that bobbed up and down in the water.
With his sharp hearing, the Phantom could make out the muted conversation on the dock: Kali growling orders to his men, and his men refusing to go into the water to look for the Phantom.
Now one of the men found the bruise placed on his jaw by the Phantom’s ring in the first assault. Kali studied it, but scoffed at its significance. The Assassins argued with
their leader, and finally Kali ordered two men into the water to find the Phantom’s body.
One by one the Assassins found the corpses of their companions.
Finally Kali left the dock, cursing at his men and berating them for their cowardice.
Soon there was no one left.
The Phantom swam a great distance underwater and finally surfaced in the waves around the rocks below the large stone promontory atop which sat the Crusader castle. The Phantom, in his moments on the dock, had immediately seen and memorized everything within sight and had categorized the large fortress as the living quarters and defense position of Kali. It would just as obviously be the place where he had imprisoned Diana Palmer.
With the entire coastline deserted and the air quiet except for the screeching of the inevitable seagulls, the Phantom climbed out of the water and crouched on the black rocks while the surf pounded at them. There he waited for twilight, which was not long in coming.
From the rocks he began climbing upward along the cliff toward the pathway that connected the beach with the castle.
Once on the path, he gained the courtyard. Fascinated by the structure that loomed up over him in the gathering darkness, the Phantom gazed at it with appreciation of its architectural solidity and its ancient design. He was also fascinated by the courtyard in which he found himself.
There was a high wall with cocopalms and tropical growth in the corners. The courtyard itself was empty. Flagstones paved its surface.
A rusted chain hung loosely from the outer wall facing the sea. The Phantom studied it. He could see that although the chain was rusted, it showed rubbing and recent use.
Interesting.
As the Phantom paused to get his bearings, he turned to study the castle again. He was standing outside a tower that rose high in the air, with a crenelated design at the top and small window slits built in at intervals.
A nearby lower window was not six feet above the ground. It was barred. Light flickered from a candle or oil lamp inside. As he stared at the aperture, he wondered if it might not be the window of some prison cell, one Diana Palmer might be in.
Lee Falk - [Story of the Phantom 14] Page 12