by Lee Falk
"This is Jotando. The medical team was hiding in his house. Through bad luck, they were found by Bababu's men, who were taking Jotando to kill him. I left them all only two hours ago, and thought they were safe until I saw him in the car."
Cari sat in a chair, dizzy with the fast-moving events.
"Will you have some tea?" he said.
The stranger shook his head and translated for Jotando, who also refused.
"You won't mind if I do," said the elegant little ambassador.
"There is no time for tea," said the stranger tersely. "We must go to Bababu's camp at once."
"But why?" said Cari, exasperated by the mystery, the action, the speed of the stranger. "What does Bababu want with the UN medical team? To decorate them for their good work? And who are you, sir? I must know," he demanded.
"Of course you must, Ambassador Cari," said the stranger, not telling him. "The facts are these. Bababu is tearing up the entire country looking for Lamanda Luaga. He believes, with good reason, that the medical team knows where he is. He will question them. If they refuse to answer, he will torture them."
"Torture them? That's fantastic. He won't!" cried Cari.
"He will. If necessary, he will kill one or two to make his point."
"I can't believe this," said Cari.
The big strangjf loomed over him "like the side of a mountain," said Cari later on. And his deep voice boomed like distant thunder.
"I have told you the truth. This may happen. It can happen. I believe it will happen. We must not let it happen, Ambassador Cari."
"No," said Cari staring up at the unsmiling lips, the face like carved granite, the eyes unseen and fathomless behind the dark glasses. "What can we do?"
"You have a UN military detail. They will go with us. Jotando must remain here in your room, for safety," said the stranger quickly.
"All right. Whatever you say," said Cari, leaping to his feet. In this swamp of frustration, here suddenly was a solid rock to stand on.
Confidence flowed from this stranger. Cari reached for the phone.
"Send my detail, with two cars please," he said.
"At once," said the stranger.
"At once."
"And leave word with your office and the press corps where you will be—at Bababu's camp."
"Yes," said Ambassador Cari.
In Bababu's command tent, Diana and the three doctors faced the general angrily. He sat in a leather folding chair puffing on his usual cigarette holder. After a brief questioning, the Wambesi boatsman had been taken away.
"I repeat," said Bababu pleasantly, "I am grateful for the wonderful work you have done for my country. My country," he repeated. "But I want to know two things. Where are the pilots who came to rescue you? And where is Lamanda Luaga?"
"And I repeat, for all of us, we do not know," said Alec Kirk. "This is monstrous. You have no right to hold us here."
"Right, Dr. Kirk? Whatever I do is "right." My word is the law, Dr. Kirk."
"We respect your authority, General," said Diana. "But we are here only as a medical unit. We have no interest, no part, in your politics here. We did our job. We want to go home now."
"Well said," said Bababu glancing at Mokata who stood at the side. Mokata nodded appreciatively. "And so you shall. When you have answered my questions. First, where are the pilots?"
"We don't know," snapped George Schwartz.
"That is possible," said Bababu thoughtfully. "Where is Lamanda Luaga?" and he repeated the name with distaste.
"We don't know that either," said Chris Able.
"That, however, is not possible. That, Doctor, is a lie," said Bababu pleasantly. He smiled at them, and at Mokata who smiled in return. A phrase from Nietzsche, "Beware the smiler with a knife."
The word "lie" hung over them, like the sound of a big bell. "A lie, gentlemen, and lady," said Bababu. "You will not leave this tent until you have told me the truth."
"We have told you the truth," snapped Alec Kirk. "I speak for all of them. We don't know where he is." They were speaking the truth. None of them had the slightest notion of how to get to the Deep Woods.
Bababu stared at them. He began to swell with rage, and cracked a cigarette holder. The doctors, used to violent types, watched warily. This man could be capable of almost anything. They were right, as they were about to learn. Bababu slammed the little table with his fist and nodded at Mokata who called out a sharp command to four soldiers at the side. Two stepped forward and grabbed Alec Kirk. He was pulled violently to a tent pole, his hands raised over his head. Then his wrists were lashed to the pole. A soldier ripped off his shirt, so that he was bare above the waist. Then Mokata stepped forward with a cat-o'-nine-tails, a multi-thonged whip, he had been holding behind him. It was a cruel-looking whip. At the end of each thong was a small metal star.
"Answer the general's question. Where is Luaga?" said Mokata.
"I don't know," said Alec. "This is insane. We are here under the auspices of the United—"
Mokata swung the whip lightly. It barely touched Kirk's skin. *
"No speech, Doctor. Only the truth. Or we will make you talk."
Alec tightened his lips. Mokata scowled, looked at Bababu, who nodded. Mokata raised the cruel whip high in the air. His face tensed. He was about to swing hard. Diana ran forward, between him and the tethered Kirk.
"No," she cried. "Stop this awful horrible thing."
"Miss Palmer, you can tell us where Luaga is," said Bababu.
"No, I cannot," said Diana.
Bababu pounded the table with his fists, and pointed at Diana. To the horror of the doctors, the soldiers grabbed Diana, and tied her wrists above her head to another tent pole. George and Chris started toward her. Rifles pointed at them. They stopped, tense, their fists clenched. One of the soldiers at Diana's side glanced at Bababu. The general nodded grimly. In one motion, the soldier grasped the collar of Diana's thin white shirt and tore it from her back. George and Chris uttered short cries of protest and started toward her. Once again, rifles pointed at them, halted them. Mokata handed the whip to the soldier, then looked at Bababu for further instruction.
"If you do not wish to see the lady whipped, you will answer my question. Where is Luaga?" said Bababu.
"Diana, we've got to stop things right now!" shouted George.
"Keep quiet, George. Tell him nothing," snapped Diana, her hands tied above her head.
Bababu caught this muttered reply and almost smiled. It wouldn't take much more, he told himself. He nodded at the soldier who raised the whip to strike Diana. His arm froze in mid-air. A glittering gold necklace on her neck caught his eye. He stared at it. At the end of the thin gold chain, there was a curious round medallion. The sight of it seemed to paralyze the soldier.
Mokata questioned him shortly and muttered in return. Mokata stared at the necklace. His eyes widened and he turned to Bababu, who sat waiting impatiently.
"Why are you waiting?" he shouted. "Make her talk!"
Mokata crossed rapidly to him, and said something quickly that the team could not understand. Bababu glared at Diana, whose wrists were tied so high on the pole she had to stand on her tiptoes. His eyes popped, his face blazed red as he shouted at the soldier. Though his words were not understandable to the team, the meaning was clear': "Get on with it!" Still the soldier hesitated, caught between his fear of Bababu and something he saw on that gold necklace.
There was a commotion outside the tent. Angry voices, then the unmistakable crunch of a fist on a jaw, a falling body. All turned toward the sounds. A soldier fell through the entrance of the tent, landing on his back and not moving. A tall man wearing sunglasses pushed in, stepping over the soldier, followed by Ambassador Cari and six United Nations guards in neat uniforms, wearing white helmets, carrying rifles.
In the tent, Bababu's soldiers started to raise their rifles, but the guards covered them. The masked man rushed to Diana's side. His fist crashed against the jaw of the soldier holding the
whip. The man fell through the canvas wall, tearing it. Then the stranger reached up, jerked the rope loose, and freed Diana. There was a jacket, Bababu's, lying on a camp stool. He put it around Diana's shoulders, then faced Bababu. All this had happened in a split second. As one soldier later wrote to his wife, "The stranger moved like a deer-fly, the fastest creature on earth."
"We've come for the medical team," said the stranger to Bababu. The general settled back in his chair, trying to catch up with the action. George Schwartz went to Alec, quickly opened a pocket knife, and cut the ropes that held his wrists. Ambassador Cari stepped forward in front of the masked man.
"I can hardly believe what I've seen," he said to Bababu. "These people came four thousand miles to help your people. They faced disease and danger in the jungle. What is the meaning of this horrible thing?"
"These peopl^are hiding my enemy. They know where he is," said Bababu awkwardly.
"Did you ask them?" said Cari.
"He asked us," said Alec Kirk. "We told him, not once but a dozen times. We don't know."
"I say they lie!" shouted Bababu.
"They're leaving with me now. I don't expect you
will try to stop us. I have informed my office and the press corps we are here," said Cari.
Bababu's eyes blazed.
"Get out. Get out—all of you." He looked at his soldiers. "You are all witnesses. I told them to get out. They are going out."
The stranger nodded and Cari, the team, and the guards hurried out. At the flap of the tent, the tall stranger paused, looked back at Bababu, then left.
Bababu was breathing hard, angry, frustrated— shamed by the little ambassador.
"Who was that one with him?" he asked.
Mokata shrugged.
Bababu slammed the desk with his fist, his familiar gesture. Then he grabbed his phone.
"Ambassador Cari or no Ambassador Cari, I won't let them out that fast. I rule this country. This is not the United Nations. I don't give a gukaka for the United Nations. I'll stop them at the gate. Bring them back."
He took the receiver from its cradle and started to bark his order into the phone, when the tall stranger returned. He reached the desk in one giant stride. His fist landed on the phone, smashing it into bits.
"I thought you might try that. Listen to me, tub of lard. These people are leaving with the ambassador. If you try to stop them, I'll take you apart, piece by piece. Is that clear?" To emphasize his words, his fist smashed the tabletop so hard it broke in half, the table faffing apart in two pieces. Then he turned and paused at the tent flap.
"I'll see you again, Bababu," he said, pronouncing the name as if it was a curse. And he was gone.
Bababu sat stunned by the violence. He looked helplessly at Mokata. It took him a few moments to find his voice.
"Who was that?"
Mokata shook his head. He, too, was shaken by the unexpected violence. It had been a shattering experience, like looking into the jaw of an angry lion. Without knowing exactly why, and despite a camp of soldiers all around them, both men knew they had faced sudden death. Their feeling was justified and accurate. When the Phantom had entered to see Diana lashed to a tent pole, the killer in him, long under iron control, had welled up. He had let off some of the steam when he smashed the phone and table. But it might have been their heads, instead.
"Get me a brandy," muttered Bababu.
Mokata filled two glasses. Both men drank hurriedly. Then as courage returned, Bababu leaped to his feet. His phone was smashed, useless. He rushed out of the tent.
"Stop them at the gates! Bring them back!"
It was too late. The two cars had swept out of the camp and were on their way to the airport. Bababu barked orders. "Send motorcycles, armored cars, planes. Bring them back."
The two cars raced along the dirt highway. The Phantom warned that Bababu might try to bring them back. So they moved at top speed. They would be safe, once they were in the international compound at the airport. Even Bababu wouldn't try to breech that, with its press corps, UN troops, and the temporary quarters for embassies and consulates of a score of nations. As they neared the airport, they saw the dust clouds on the road behind as Bababu's men pursued them. It was a race for safety, a race, they realized, for life. A half mile from the airport gates, the vanguard of Bababu's men drew close—soldiers on three motorcycles, each with a side car bearing a soldier with a machine gun. As they closed in, the Phantom leaned out of the car window and fired his gun three times. Each shot blew out a front tire of one of the motorcycles. The speeding machines turned over and over off the road, flinging their riders onto the ground. Once again, the team gazed in amazement at their guide and protector. "The Phantom is rough with roughnecks" is the equivalent translation of an old jungle saying which none of them had ever heard but could understand now.
The two cars swept into the airport gates, safe at last. The missing medical team! The news flashed around the world almost before they got out of their cars. They were surrounded by newsmen, but obeyed Cari's request and said nothing about Bababu. In the crowd, Diana held the Phantom's arm. He bent down, kissed her quickly, then he was gone. She tried to see his tall figure in the crowd, but he had disappeared. She turned to the others, tears in her eyes. She was still wearing General Bababu's jacket.
The team's departure was swift. A plane had been waiting on the field for a week. Cari was taking no more chances. The angry Bababu might decide to bomb the airport, press corps, embassies and all. Indeed, the plane was moving on the runway when the first of Bababu's armored cars raced into the airport. They got into the air just in time, and no one breathed a sigh of relief until they were well past the shoreline and over the ocean. Then they relaxed into' happy, excited chatter. Only Diana remained quiet, alone by a window. Her thoughts were far behind in Bangalla.
Mokata and two officers waited outside Bababu's tent, hesitant to enter and tell him the team had escaped. Bababu waited alone in his tent, a beaker of brandy in his hand. He sat in his leather chair, brooding, staring at the broken table and phone, at the soldier still lying on the floor. More than anything else, that violent stranger troubled him. Bababu had been a fighter and brawler all his life. He was used to ordinary violence, but this had been something out of the ordinary. Maybe it had been the skull marks on The Belch that upset him, or that sight of the gold insignia around the girl's neck, a familiar sign all jungle folk knew. It meant the protection of the Phantom. Perhaps it wasn't that at all. He'd imagined it. But why had the soldier with the whip hesitated? And Mokata had seen it too. Bababu shook himself and growled. All this was making him nervous. Bababu was not used to being nervous. When he got hold of that violent stranger, he'd have the satisfaction of killing him personally, with proper precautions of course—tying the hands first. Bababu almost smiled as he visualized the scene. He took a big gulp of his brandy and for the first time noticed a mark on the broken desk. He bent down for a closer
look. He dropped his glass, and jumped to his feet, and, in his haste to get away, tripped over the fallen soldier who was still unconscious. Bababu fell to his knees over the soldier, and his glance touched the man's face. The mark, the same mark—the skull!
Bababu leaped to his feet with a cry and rushed out of his tent. That stranger—he had been—he was—no, impossible—had to be—couldn't be. Mokata and the others waited outside the tent. He rushed past them, into his limousine.
"My palace!" he shouted.
Two soldiers leaped into the car and drove him away. Mokata and the others sighed with relief. The news about the team could wait.
On the flight over the Atlantic, the team alternately dozed and reviewed the amazing events of the last weeks. The pygmies, the wild raft ride, the Deep Woods; the trip back to Trader Joe's with their fantastic guide and protector; the river trip on The Belch-, the burning farmhouse; the command tent of General Bababu and the final race to the airport. Looming over all was the man whose name they did not know—called Phantom
by the jungle folk. After the weeks with him, the sharing of all the days and nights of adventure and danger, he remained as mysterious as when they first glimpsed him standing before the skull throne. They questioned Diana about him, but she was stingy with her information, telling them nothing they did not already know.
The doctors told Cari that Luaga was alive, somewhere in the deep jungle. They'd been truthful in saying they didn't know exactly where. During their tense days of travel, they'd lost all sense of direction. None could ever retrace their steps to find their way to that shadowy place called the Deep Woods. Cari told them they would face questioning at a press conference on arrival in New York. He advised them to state only that Luaga was alive, and to give no clue to his location. Since Bababu's announcements, the world believed Lamanda Luaga was dead. The team's statement that he was alive was bound to create interest in many places, and an uproar in Bangalla.