The Hydra Monster

by Lee Falk

  "I know a little about jungle travel, Captain."

  Their plane left the vicinity of the citadel. "Now we must find a place to land."

  The ship swung to the east and began to lose altitude. The sky all around had a thick, hazy tinge. In a moment they were flying over the small city of Hondillo. Many of its buildings had fallen; others were missing a wall or a roof. The small airfield at the town's edge had two long ruts cutting across it. The control tower was leaning far to one side on its metal legs, looking like a giant, crippled bird.

  "The field won't do," said Miranda. He glanced at his charts. "We'll see how the grazing fields

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  are.

  Beyond the city, they located, after some low level circling, a wide, fiat pasture which appeared suitable for a safe landing.

  "I haven't landed in a cow pasture since my student days," remarked Miranda as he took the light craft down. "The ranch owner had, as is proverbial, an attractive daughter and the whole adventure turned out to . . ." The ship touched down, bounced, swayed once to the right, and settled in. "Not perfect, btit good enough."

  "Very good," the Phantom said.

  When they were on the ground in the low grass, Captain Miranda said, "It has grown very sultry." He scowled at the muggy day. "I know there is no scientific basis for it, yet this feels to me very much like earthquake weather." "You think we're likely to have another big quake so soon after the others?"

  "It is, unfortunately, a familiar pattern in my country," answered Miranda. "You wish me to accompany you on your trek to the citadel?"

  "I'd like you to wait here, Captain."

  "Very well. Ill remain behind," said the Police Captain. "If you don't return in a reasonable time, I'll contact the local authorities and come to the castle."

  "Give me a few hours first."

  "As you wish." He pointed at a low, white farm house in the distance. "I'll go explain to. the owner of this pasture why we've used it rather than the airfield. Perhaps he has a daughter, too."

  The Phantom left him, heading for the nearby jungle.

  The lean man let himself into the windowless, stone, walled room. "The sand is rapidly running out, Miss Palmer."

  Diana was sitting in a straight, wooden chair. She didn't answer the man who had earlier introduced himself as V2.

  "I have attempted to make my second phone call to your dear friend, Walker. Or shall we call him the Phantom?"

  "Call him whatever you wish."

  "He is not at his hotel." V2 twisted the chain of his vulture medallion. "Nor can he be reached at the Lanza police headquarters." He moved slowly closer to the dark-haired girl. "He wouldn't be attempting to come and rescue you, would he?"

  Diana said, "Since you brought me here drugged and have kept me locked up ever since, I really don't have a very good idea of what's going on outside."

  "You didn't, by any chance, convey some message to the Phantom when we allowed you to talk to him?"

  "You heard every word I said."

  "You wouldn't," asked V2, taking hold of her shoulder and digging his sharp fingernails in, "have some special way of communicating to him? Some special phrase?"

  Pulling free of his clutch, the girl answered, "I don't know what you . . ." Then she stopped herself. "No, certainly not. Whatever gave you that idea?"

  "Do you?" he gripped her shoulder again. "I admit I can't see how you could know where you are. However, since we can't locate him ... I'm considering every possibility."

  Diana didn't know why this man had the ideas he had. As long as he did, though, she thought it would be a good thing to allow him to believe she had perhaps been able to communicate her whereabouts to the Phantom. It might cause them to change their plans, to move her. To do something which might give her some chance to escape. "That's a completely ridiculous notion!" she told Y2, making her voice sound a slight bit insincere.

  The lean Vulture moved away from her. "You realize we will kill you if he attempts anything," he said. "Perhaps you don't appreciate the fact that we never make empty threats, Miss Palmer. We told the Phantom he had only eleven hours to arrange the release of our comrades. We mean that. The time has now diminished to a trifle more than eight hours. Whatever he is up to, if those men are not free when the time runs out, then we will surely kill you. The Phantom will never see you alive again. Your corpse will be thrown on his doorstep. You see, we always keep our word."

  Diana said, "You've never met a man like the Phantom before."

  V2 laughed. "He's no diff . . . What's that?"

  The room had begun to move, the small table against the wall did a chattering dance across the bare, stone floor before falling over with *a crash.

  Diana jumped from her chair, which was hopping, too. "It's . . ." she began,

  "Good Lord!" cried V2, "it's another earthquake!" He ran from the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Greenness surrounded him, thick foliage on all sides. The trees were rich with spade-shaped green leaves, shaggy, green vines snaked around the branches, green plants filled in most of the spaces between wide trunks, green-feathered birds flew through the hazy air.

  The Phantom had once more shed his civilian clothes, to move freely through the wilds in his costume. Though he had so far come across no man-made trails through the dense forest, he was able to move unerringly toward the citadel.

  He could see it now, rising up ahead of him. All pale, yellow stone and upthrusting towers. The Escabar family must have built it centuries ago.

  As he worked his way closer, the masked man became gradually aware of something. It was an increasing stillness. He halted, turning his head from side to side, sniffing the muggy air. "I wonder if Captain Miranda was right about this being earthquake weather," he said to himself.

  The gaudy birds had ceased calling, the monkeys high up in the twined branches of the trees had stopped their chattering. A feeling of anticipation was filling the shadowy woodlands.

  The Phantom resumed his course toward the castle where he believed Diana was being held by the Vulture wing of Hydra. The quiet grew, the feeling of expectancy, even the rustlings in the underbrush stopped.

  All at once, there was noise and motion. The first thing the masked man was aware of was leaves starting to fall down out of the trees, a great, green shower rattling down around him. He felt the earth rumble and shake and buck.

  Birds screamed, monkeys cried out. The tree trunks groaned as they began to splinter. Everything was swaying, harshly, from side to side. The Phantom ran, ran forward toward the castle.

  There was a loud crashing sound above him, so

  he threw himself to the right, just in time to miss a huge, toppling tree. The topmost branches slapped and tore at him when the big tree fell nearby. He pushed himself up, almost reached an upright position when another, greater, tremor shook the ground. It flipped him hard against the fallen tree.

  The masked man disentangled himself and fought his way on through the thick jungle. There was a lull in the quakes. And it felt like that, a lull only, a temporary cessation and not a final stop to the earth's violence.

  He was only a quarter mile from the citadel. He could see its near walls clearly. As he Watched it, jogging steadily nearer, the whole enormous structure seemed to jump. A new tremor snapped the ground, shaking everything. One of the stone towers began to teeter. In another second, the tile roof came apart, disintegrating into thousands of squares of color. Next, the stones of the tower wall gave up, let go of each other and began to tumble down through the afternoon.

  "I've got to get Diana out of there quickly!" The Phantom sprinted forward.

  He reached the rear of the citadel as the last of the pieces of the tower smashed to the ground. A few feet to his right, a wooden door was flung open.

  V2, the lean Vulture leader, burst out of the castle. His face was a sweaty, frightened white.

  The Phantom drew out one of his .45 automatics. "Stop right there!" he ordered.
<
br />   V2 wheeled. "We'll all die under that pile of

  rock, man. Run, run for your life!" He began running for the forest.

  "Stop!" repeated the Phantom.

  V2 ignored him.

  The Phantom shot him once in the left leg.

  Stumbling to the ground, the Vulture sobbed* "You fool, what are you doing?" He clutched at his wound.

  At his side, looking down at him, the Phantom asked, "Where is she?"

  "I don't..."

  "Where is she?"

  "In there, in there. For god's sake, let me get away from here before I'm buried under all that stone."

  The Phantom reached down, grabbed up the lean man and tossed him over one broad shoulder "Lead me to Diana."

  "Are you insane? I won't go back in . .

  "It's the only possible chance you have of living."

  "All right, all right, but we must hurry. She's in a room to your left as you enter by this back hall."

  The masked man, gun in hand, entered the corridor from which the fleeing Vulture had exited. He encountered one other Vulture, a startled young man with his wig askew. But the young Vulture was running in another direction.

  Then around another bend, he saw Diana. The dark-haired girl, realizing V2 had left her door open, had left her prison.

  "Diana," said the Phantom.

  She ran toward him. "Darling . . ."

  The walls began to shake again. The sound of lamps, glassware, chairs, all falling and crashing, echoed through the stone hall.

  "Another quake," cried V2. "This one will finish

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  us.

  The Phantom set the wounded man down. "I'll be back for you." He picked up Diana, pivoted, and went running for the rear way out.

  "Don't leave me here!" called V2. "I can't walk now. Don't."

  The masked man got the girl clear of the citadel and up into the beginning of the forest. An enormous shake of the earth came at that moment, throwing them both to the ground.

  "Are you okay?" The Phantom sat up, turned toward the girl.

  "Yes, I'm fine. I ... oh, Kit!" She was staring back at the citadel.

  Slowly, not able to withstand the mighty rumbling in the earth, the castle was dissolving before their eyes. Melting like an ice sculpture, or a castle made of sand left at the beach for the tide to take. Rocks and tiles came cascading down, dust, huge spinning clouds of dust rose high into the sky as the citadel fell into ruin.

  After a moment, the girl said, "He's still in there."

  "There wasn't enough time for him."

  They sat there a few moments longer, gradually realizing the quakes had stopped, for now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Little by little, unevenly, the sounds of the jungle were starting up again. A few birds fluttering and cawing here, a few monkeys picking up a dropped conversation there.

  "So you were right about them?" Diana asked as the masked man led her back toward the field of grazing land where the plane had been left. "Right about what you guessed up in San Francisco?"

  "Yes, Hydra has been very active here in Santa Florenza since the quakes hit." They came to a fallen tree. He took her by the waist to lift her up over it.

  "The men who kidnapped me, these Vultures," she said, "they're part of Hydra?"

  "An elite unit within the larger organization."

  "I suppose," Diana said, looking back in the direction of the fallen citadel which they had left fifteen minutes before, "they're all dead back there."

  "Any of them who were inside." He had gone back to the ruins before they left to make a rapid check. There seemed to be no possibility of survivors.

  "That man, V2 he called himself, was he the leader of the Vultures?"

  "Only the second in command," answered the Phantom. "There's still a man known only as V." He took hold of her arm to guide her through a tangle of thorny brush. "Now, what about you, Diana? What exactly happened?"

  "I can tell you what I remember," she said, "but I don't think it's going to be much help in rounding up the rest of the Vultures." She brushed back her long hair. "They must have been watching me and they followed me from the house. I'd gone out to Golden Gate Park. It was a nice day and I wanted to spend part of it outdoors. In the park- near the tea garden, you know—a very presentable young man approached me. He identified himself as a government agent, told me he had something to tell me about you. I was concerned about you, but this man didn't strike me as quite right. For one thing, he was too anxious to get me into his

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  car.

  "Did he come down here with you?"

  Diana said, "I really don't know, Kit. He gave me some kind of injection, did it right out in the open. There weren't any people nearby. He pretended I'd been taken ill. I'm sorry, I lost consciousness before I was even inside his car. So, outside of the nice young man, I have no recollection of seeing any others. When I woke up, I was in that room back there."

  The masked man asked, "While you were in the citadel, who did you see?"

  "Only V2. He came to talk to me several times, brought my meals."

  "How about when they let you talk to me on the phone?"

  "He brought the phone to me, on a long extension cord. Then took it away when he wanted me to stop talking."

  "During the time you were there, he didn't say anything . . . anything at all which might tell us something about them?"

  The girl shook her head. "He bragged a lot, about how they were always successful. And he knew you were the Phantom."

  "We'd met before."

  "Oh, he did mention ... at least I suppose it was a reference to this head man V," said Diana. "I asked him whether he had anyone over him, a boss or something like that. He answered that very few outranked him. That the head man was too busy basking in the sun to bother himself with petty details such as me."

  "Basking in the sun?"

  "Yes. Does that tell you anything?"

  "Not at the moment," the masked man replied. "Good, it looks like we can get out of here."

  The trees had thinned. Downhill a quarter of a mile away sat the airplane. It and the field had suffered no damage.

  "I'm very pleased to see you are well, Senorita Palmer," said Captain Miranda. The ship was in the air. The Phantom, still wearing his costume, was taking a turn at piloting. The girl sat next to him, with Miranda in the rear seat. "I feared for the worst when the new quakes came."

  "All things considered," said the girl, "I'm fine."

  Miranda nodded. Taking another careful look at the Phantom, he said, "I can understand even better now why these Vultures do not care for you, senor. For you are more than merely Senor Walker, you are . . ."

  "I'm someone who's dedicated to stopping them," cut in the Phantom.

  "I've instructed the local police in Hondillo to go through the rains of the citadel," said the captain. "They won't be able to do that until tomorrow at the earliest. There is much else" to do in the aftermath of these quakes."

  "What about the Escabar family?" asked the Phantom.

  "I made a few local phone calls while I was enjoying the hospitality of the ranch owner, who has only three strapping sons, by the way. It seems the last of the Escabars left the citadel more than a year ago. The property has been leased for the past three months, according to the attorney in Hondillo who handles it for the family."

  "What does he know about his tenants?"

  "Nothing," replied Miranda. "Everything was done by mail and phone. He was not even aware they had actually moved into the place. They, of course . . ."

  "Paid in cash," supplied the masked man.

  "Exactly, yes." The captain sighed and leaned back, touching at his temple. He'd been so pre-

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  occupied today he hadn't managed to check for grey hairs. "What do we try next, senor?"

  "Next," the Phantom told him, "we try our imitation Gig Sumter."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Phantom came running ou
t of the hotel. He leaped into the borrowed Fiat. He swung the car away from the curb, went roaring down the street.

  He was wearing dark glasses and a belted raincoat now. The day was fast fading, great streaks of orange and black were scrawled across the darkening sky, the tile roofs and the spired cathedrals of Lanza were tinted a glowing scarlet.

  Expertly, he wove through the traffic, heading for the edge of the city. When he had asked for Gig Sumter at the bogus reporter's hotel, the desk clerk informed him Sumter had checked out moments before. The garage attendant who'd brought a black, rented Renault to the blond young man in front of the hotel had told the Phantom that Sumter drove off toward the north of the city.