Tales of the Red Panda: The Android Assassins (13 page)

Less than an hour later the sleek, black roadster tore
through the city streets at breakneck speed. The last of Captain Clockwork's
metal men had been vanquished and police had restored the rule of law to the
stricken downtown. Their men had returned to cover and early reports from the
hospitals suggested that none of their wounded had been permanently damaged.
Now it was once again the masked heroes together, but it seemed that situation
was not to last long.

“Explain this to me again,” the Flying Squirrel said as she
drove, clearly annoyed.

“Which part?” He pretended to be oblivious.

“Which part? You aren't serious!”

“Pull over up here,” he said. “I need to make a telephone
call.”

He stepped from the car and into a waiting phone booth,
slipped a coin into the slot and dialed a number. There was a whirring sound
and a series of clicks, all of which he expected to hear.

“Mother Hen speaking,” came the calm female voice on the
other end of the line.

“Can you patch this call through to police headquarters on
an untraceable line?” he asked without identifying himself.

“Still alive, are we?” the voice said without surprise.

“We are,” he replied. “We are also in something of a hurry.”

“Do you imagine that I was waiting for a reply?” she chided
gently. “Your call is going through now.”

“Good,” he said. “Get injury reports to the lair as soon as
you have them. And get off the line.”

“You don't think I snoop, do you?” she said, shocked.

“In fact I do, Nosy Parker,” he smiled. “Get off the line.”

There was a click as the ringing began, and he gave a quick
glance around to make certain he was unobserved on the dark street,
then
cleared his throat to get into character.

“Police Headquarters,” the voice on the other end of the
line said.

“Please,” he whispered into the line, “please, connect me to
Chief
O'Mally
.”

“The Chief
ain't
in,” the voice
barked. “There's all-out war downtown, haven't you heard?”

“Please, you have to come quickly,” the Red Panda said
meekly. “This is August Fenwick.”

The voice on the other end of the line became interested.
“What's that? You have information about August Fenwick?”

“No, I
am
August
Fenwick!” he said in mock fright. “I'm being held prisoner by a madman, he
could come back at any moment! Please, I'll give you directions.”

Kit Baxter sat in the car and fumed. It was bad enough that
she'd been worried sick and that she'd planned the final battle between good
and evil under the assumption that the Red Panda was lost forever. But now not
only was he going back to his cell, but he was making her drive him there. This
did not sit well with the Flying Squirrel.

A few moments later he got back in the car, all smiles. He
raised an eyebrow as she looked at him darkly.

“What?” he
asked,
genuinely
puzzled.

“You're just
gonna
waltz back in there and count on
O'Mally
to come to
your rescue?” she said in disbelief, throwing the car back into gear.

“I don't think I have a great deal of choice,” he said,
amused. “After tonight's open warfare in the streets, I can't imagine that
O'Mally
will have the slightest difficulty getting the
warrants he's been after to raid the mansion and search it top to bottom.”

“Which would mean bye-bye to August Fenwick and Kit Baxter,”
she said grudgingly getting his drift.

“In a nutshell,” he said, removing his mask. “It would
either mean staying undercover all the time or starting a new life somewhere
else.” He pulled off his gloves and stowed them in the compartment beside his
seat.

“Did you just offer to take me away from all of this?” Kit
smirked. “'Cause if you
ain't
careful, one day I just
might say yes.”

There was a small pause. He threw his hat into the back
seat. “Where would you want to go?” he asked.

Her heart skipped a beat, but Kit resisted the urge to
bounce in her seat. “Are you
askin
' me?” she said
wryly.

“Well… not exactly,” he was blinking first.

“Then I
ain't
exactly telling,”
she said, returning her full attention to the road as they raced along. This
was still a stupid plan, but she felt mollified by the game.

“Well, if all goes well, you can tell me at breakfast,” the
Red Panda said.

“You're
awfully
sure of yourself, aren't you?” she gasped, pretending to be scandalized.

“What's that?” he said, lost for a moment. “I didn't mean… I
just meant that if all goes well, my rescue should be complete by morning.” He
cleared his throat. “The police will probably wonder why you acted as you did,
but perhaps I can persuade
O'Mally
not to wonder all
that hard.”

“Like by maybe not suing his department for libel?” she
offered.

“Yes, like that,” he grinned, slipping off his trench coat
and jacket. “Think
O'Mally
will notice that I'm
wearing different trousers than I was when I was taken from the Club Macaw?”

“Say what you want about
O'Mally
,”
she said, “but he doesn't strike me as the type to pay a lot of attention to
men's trousers.”

August Fenwick laughed as he removed the bright red necktie
and completed his transformation back to captured ne'er-do-well. “I hope you're
right. After the attention of the last few days, August Fenwick needs to be
completely exonerated, and that means a convincing rescue by police. Which
means that we should probably beat them there.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you just say you want to go
faster
, effendi? Your wish is my
command,” and with that she stomped on the accelerator and the mighty car lurched
forward at terrifying speed.

“So what happens if you run into any more tin soldiers?” she
asked.

“I deal with them,” he replied. “I got out barehanded, why
should getting back
in
be more
difficult? Besides, I don't get the impression that he has many soldiers left.”

“So we're done?” she asked hopefully.

“Not by a long shot.” He shook his head. “Remember, these
attacks by Captain Clockwork's army are just diversions for his real plan.”

“The Viper's plan?” she offered.

“I'm trying to stick with Captain Clockwork,” Fenwick
grinned. “It seems to annoy him.”

“That's tough, but fair,” she agreed. “But you know what I
mean.”

“I do, yes.”

“Then shut up,” she said sweetly.

“Ah. Touché,” he nodded. “We know now what his real goal is,
and nothing short of his total defeat will stop him from trying again. Only by
ending Clockwork's master plan can we stop these senseless attacks on the
city.”

She frowned. “You think he's still got the muscle to pull it
off?”

He looked at her as she drove, the lights of the city
flashing by her window so quickly they seemed to resolve themselves into a glow
that surrounded her. “I find it difficult to believe that a fiend as brilliant
as Captain Clockwork would put all of his eggs in one basket.”

“You don't think busting up his army and swiping his secret
headquarters will stop him?” the Squirrel asked, knowing full well what the
answer would be.

“Would it stop us?” he offered.

“I object to the comparison, but concede the point,” she
said helpfully. “So he's got more soldiers somewhere? Maybe just waiting to be
activated? And a backup
treehouse
to boot?”

“I'd be astonished if he didn't,” came the reply.

They were silent for a moment as the car raced through the
darkened streets.

“So what was all
that
for?” she said, mildly disgruntled.

“You saved a lot of lives tonight,” he said.

“Yes I did,” she said, pleased that he had noticed.

“And then I saved yours,” he added.

“I had everything under control,” she insisted, “but you did
look pretty helping.”

The car rolled to a halt beside the large sewer drain from
which he had emerged only a few hours earlier. “Kit Baxter,” he scolded,
“behave yourself.”

“Yes, Boss,” she said.

“Well, Mister Fenwick,” Chief
O'Mally
growled, “it all seems in order. I must say I'm relieved. If you had been
responsible for all of this, I'd have hated to have misjudged a man as badly as
I did you.”

The Red Panda tried not to smile at this. It was fairly
clear that the Chief was being sincere, and just as obvious that he meant
something slightly different than Fenwick was meant to think. The idea that
August Fenwick could secretly be some sort of genius ran completely contrary to
O'Mally's
impressions, and perhaps that was why he
was so quick to accept the wealthy young man's version of events. A little
hypnosis never hurt either.

“Well, thank you,
O'Mally
,”
Fenwick said, “
that
's awfully decent of you to say.”

The Red Panda stood up from the bunk in his cell where
he had been discovered by police
when they arrived to raid
the complex almost an hour earlier. He had since then related every word of
Captain Clockwork's tirades to the Chief of Police and his closest officers, in
precise detail. Each of the senior men had seemed relieved that Fenwick was as
thankful as he was to be rescued, and hoped he would feel the same way when he
read what had been said about him in the press for the last several days. They
congratulated Fenwick on his bravery in order to foster the charitable
perspective they desired. August Fenwick turned away the compliments with a
modest wave of his hand.

“Not a piece of it, gentlemen,” he said. “I have no doubt
that the fiend intended to finish me off down here one way or another. If it
were not for the timely arrival of your men, I shudder to think what might have
happened.”

This pleased the officers greatly, and they began to
disperse somewhat.
O'Mally
waved Fenwick towards the
cell door. “And now, sir,” he said, “if we might prevail upon you a little
longer, I have some men studying the control complex. Perhaps you could shed
some light on that?”

“I should be glad to, if I am able,” Fenwick said, walking
into the hallway with the Chief.

“My word, Fenwick!”
O'Mally
cried
when they stepped into the more brightly lit space. “Those are some nasty marks
you have.”

Fenwick smiled, as if embarrassed at the few of his many
contusions from the evening's brawl on
Yonge
Street
that the Chief could see. “Yes,” he said, “when the mechanical men caught me
calling you, they did put things a little roughly. Next thing I knew I was back
in my cell. I did what I could, of course, but the beastly things are deuced
strong.” The Red Panda wondered if he might not be laying on the wealthy
prat
routine a bit thick, but the whole business was a
little
more manly
than his alter ego generally went in
for and he felt the need to compensate.

“Of course,”
O'Mally
said, with an
expression that told the Red Panda that his rouse had worked perfectly. “And if
I might say, sir, when you see Miss Baxter next, if you could mention to her
that the police tend to frown upon leaving the scene, I'd be grateful.”

Kit had been right, the police were so cordial in advance of
his reaction to the tarring and feathering he had received in his absence that
they were going to smooth the whole business over themselves. Still, he
thought, best to be careful.

“I'll mention it to her,
O'Mally
,
but I can't believe she knew anything was happening. The girl does like to play
the radio when I'm not in the car, you know,” he said absent-mindedly.

“Then where has she been all this time?”
O'Mally
was disgruntled, and the cop in him wasn't quite ready to let it go after all.

“Did you check her mother's?” Fenwick said in his best air
of unconcern.

“Did
we…,”
the Chief stopped
himself before he rolled into a tirade. “Yes, Mister Fenwick, the thought did
occur.”

“Ah well,” he replied.

“Got a boyfriend, does she?”
O'Mally
asked, still trying to find an excuse to drop the whole thing.

Fenwick felt his ears turn red and he blinked in surprise as
he walked. “No, I don't believe she does,” he said.

O'Mally
snorted. “Girl like that?
Why wouldn't she have?
Or three or four?
Why in my day
we'd have lined up around the block to have her ignore us as we walked by.”

The explanation was very convenient, but August Fenwick was
having none of it. “I hardly like to speculate, Chief, but I believe you're on
the wrong track.” Something about this set his teeth on edge and he hadn't
quite worked out that it was the proximity of the words
Kit
and
boyfriend
.

“Well, someone is going to ask,” the Chief said as they
walked into the great central chamber. “Would be nice if I had a simple
explanation for the press.”

“Now see here,
O'Mally
,” Fenwick
seemed quite suddenly to lose his temper. “I have the general impression that
some things have been said in the press in the last few days that another man
might choose to be angry over.
Very angry indeed.
I
know you and I know you meant well, by the city if not by me, and that is what
matters.” It seemed to Chief
O'Mally
that August
Fenwick grew quite a bit taller as he spoke. “But Miss Baxter is a good girl
and I will not have you suggesting otherwise in the name of playing cozy with
the press. You keep my staff out of this, you understand?”

Both men stood still for a moment, and it was hard to say which
of them was more surprised at the outburst. The Red Panda thought very quickly
to make certain that he had not revealed any knowledge of events he should not
have just yet, and thought perhaps he got away with that one. After a few
seconds,
O'Mally
just nodded and turned into the
room. It was damned peculiar, but Fenwick could easily have his job over
several quotes that he had given the papers. Besides,
O'Mally
was fond of Kit Baxter, and didn't wish to make any trouble for the girl if he
could help it.

“Well, here it is,” he said. “Tunnels up here lead all over
the city. We'll be days working it all out. Found a chamber over there with a
few unfinished models, but no real workshop has presented itself yet.”

“I can't help you there, Chief,” Fenwick said. “I was in
this room twice, and after that only in my cell. I hear there was some fracas
in the streets tonight. Perhaps you finished the mechanical men off.”

“Yes, well,” the Chief cleared his throat but did not admit
the minor role his force had played in the rout of Clockwork's troops tonight.
“My concern is that if we don't find the place where they were built, there may
soon be more.”

“I suppose you're right,” Fenwick said seriously.

“Still, thanks to you, sir, at least now we know that
Captain Clockwork and the Viper are one and the same,”
O'Mally
said as the two men ascended the stairs and approached the controls, “and we
have some idea of his plan.”

“And very little idea of where he might strike next,”
Fenwick said. “Oh, let me see…” He pretended to be confused by the controls for
a moment,
then
found the switch for the lights that
illuminated the blueprints he had used to find two fatal weaknesses in the
robotic killers. “There we are. Blueprints.”

There was a brief murmur among the assembled experts.
O'Mally
peered at the plans and nodded. “Yes, well,” he
said, “
we
'll bring them along of course. Can't imagine
we'll learn much of practical value from those.”

“No,” the Red Panda agreed. “I can't imagine that you will.”

“About this surveillance system you mentioned…”

“Yes, of course.” Fenwick worked the controls of the
tele
-vision device until the police experts appeared to
have the hang of it. “Clever little gadget, isn't it? No idea how it works.”

“I'm certain that we will be able to work that out, Mister
Fenwick,”
O'Mally
said. “Thank you for this. This
discovery will help us more than I can say. Now that we know what Captain
Clockwork might have learned, we can begin to fight back.”

“Indeed,” Fenwick said. “I thought it seemed important.”

“Good heavens,”
O'Mally
thundered,
seeing his own office flash by on the screen, “the places this fiend was able
to observe! Quite incredible!”

“It is,” Fenwick agreed. “But I had the idea that it might
be just as important to learn where he
couldn't
see.”

“I don't follow you, Mister Fenwick,”
O'Mally
sighed.

“I thought that if you compared the unobserved locations
with things that Captain Clockwork knew anyway, it might give you a clue to his
true identity,” Fenwick said as if it were quite a casual notion on his part.

“With all due respect, Mister Fenwick,”
O'Mally
said, “I believe that your role in this adventure has come to an end. Time to
leave things to the professionals and get some rest, sir.”

“Yes,” the Red Panda smiled. “Well, it was just a thought.”