KABOOM! I didn't like that spineless Morell guy anyway. In the grand scheme of plans he is worthless. Now the big states know who theri real enemy is they can start their clandestine activity.
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Oh no, Fu contines his brutal schemes!
(personally, I think Bond will survive (obviously), but Halifax will be incapacitated by the bomb, and be unable to lead the country, thus continuing Fu's war.
And the Shadow hmm, what next? Doc Savage putting things right? The Green lantern appearing? Nice Updates, the Yogi.
(personally, I think Bond will survive (obviously), but Halifax will be incapacitated by the bomb, and be unable to lead the country, thus continuing Fu's war.
And the Shadow hmm, what next? Doc Savage putting things right? The Green lantern appearing? Nice Updates, the Yogi.
TC Pilot: The Boys AT-rifle entered service in 1937, if Wikipedia is to be believed. AT-rifles had a short career, being really useful only during the first year of WW2. One interesting tidbit: apparently Canadian soldiers dubbed the Boys with the nickname “Bastard Charlie” due to its tremendous recoil…
Chengar Qordath: That is the question, and not one that will be answered in the upcoming update, unfortunately.
elbasto: Good question!
yourworstnightmare: Who knows? Fu Manchu knows!
stixloo: Noop, the Boys fired solid armour-piercing shot, not explosive shells.
Jape, Nuclear Winter, Korppi: Thanks!
Mettermrck: Damn right you don’t! Only problem for Fah is you don’t cross Fu Manchu either without serious consequences…
Kaiser Bill: Sorry, I’ve had some strong inspirational pull towards Fu Manchu lately, but these things never last long. I’ve been working over the next few updates to The Eagle and The Lion in my head for some time, I think you’ll be pleased.
Deus: Yeah, Fah Loo Sue seems to have a more direct and brutal way of removing obstacles than her devious father. And also, to some extent, hands are being called and a period of subterfuge is coming to an end.
Gjerg Kastrioti: I found Doc Savage to be a little to “overpowered” to fit into this story, so he won’t be in. But another pulp character, one of the most famous and iconic of all times is in queue to appear shortly. In the meantime, more about The Shadow and his quest for the stolen silver and Siwan Khan!
EDIT: Woohoo, were beyond 12,000 views now!
Chengar Qordath: That is the question, and not one that will be answered in the upcoming update, unfortunately.
elbasto: Good question!
yourworstnightmare: Who knows? Fu Manchu knows!
stixloo: Noop, the Boys fired solid armour-piercing shot, not explosive shells.
Jape, Nuclear Winter, Korppi: Thanks!
Mettermrck: Damn right you don’t! Only problem for Fah is you don’t cross Fu Manchu either without serious consequences…
Kaiser Bill: Sorry, I’ve had some strong inspirational pull towards Fu Manchu lately, but these things never last long. I’ve been working over the next few updates to The Eagle and The Lion in my head for some time, I think you’ll be pleased.
Deus: Yeah, Fah Loo Sue seems to have a more direct and brutal way of removing obstacles than her devious father. And also, to some extent, hands are being called and a period of subterfuge is coming to an end.
Gjerg Kastrioti: I found Doc Savage to be a little to “overpowered” to fit into this story, so he won’t be in. But another pulp character, one of the most famous and iconic of all times is in queue to appear shortly. In the meantime, more about The Shadow and his quest for the stolen silver and Siwan Khan!
EDIT: Woohoo, were beyond 12,000 views now!
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New York Chinatown
United States of America
December 7th, 1939
The shadows were alive in the Chinatown headquarters of Siwan Khan. A sinister shape of incarnated darkness flowed through the deserted corridors and great rooms stuffed with costly Chinese furniture, all red and saffron silks and mated gold. It made candles flicker as it moved among them, seeking relentlessly for the master of the house, which so far seemed uninhabited.
The search for the lair of Siwan Khan had been a tedious affair, involving the shaking down of more than one cringing stool pigeon. But as always, the Shadow had known under what stones of the underworld to look for clues, and as always, the various human cockroach and vermin that festered there were only too willing to spill their guts once confronted with their sombre nemesis. The Shadow had been surprised to learn that the feared Mongolian Crime Lord, who claimed to be a direct descendant of Genghis Khan had returned so soon after his last debacle. It was also surprising that he insisted on performing his foul deeds in New York, of all places, given that the Shadow had proved more than capable of foiling his plots in the past. Thrice already The Shadow had sent him packing back to his hidden realm in Sinkiang, the hidden city of Xanadu, but perhaps it was this very fact, coupled with the haughty arrogance of the Golden Master, the would-be conqueror of the world, that made him return to the haunts of The Shadow for his revanche.
Finally The Shadow moved into what looked very much like an office, also empty. It began to look as if his quarry had bolted, but he decided to go through the place in search of clues to the current whereabouts of Siwan Khan.
The living shadows coalesced into a man dressed in a long black cloak, worn over an equally black coat and hat, with his face covered below the fierce green eyes by a red scarf. The Shadow leaned over the desk and began looking through the drawers, rummaging through stacks of papers which were all mundane as could be; financial reports from various legitimate firms that were the front of Siwan’s crime network and also his money laundering arm. He would take these to Rutledge Mann, The Shadow’s agent for financial matters. Maybe something could be gleaned from them that wasn’t obvious at first sight.
Suddenly the investigation was interrupted by the sound of the measured, self-assured steps of four powerfully built Orientals who entered the room, right next to the desk, through hidden doors giving to small secret chambers in the walls of the office. The four men were tall for their race, and wore only loose-fitting red silk trousers tucked into soft boots, showing off their hugely muscled torsos and arms, which were decorated with intricate tattoos. Their heads were shaved, and each man carried a wickedly sharp Mongolian sabre. Obviously, Siwan Khan had been expecting his arrival and prepared a trap for him.
The Shadow, completely surrounded and hemmed in between wall, desk, and attackers on two sides had no time to draw his guns, much less fire them in two directions. Instead, he reacted with instant and ferocious aggression. Leaning with one hand on the table top, his entire body pivoted below the vicious slash of a sabre, delivering a savage kick right at the chest of the nearest of his assailants which sent him flying right into his comrade behind. His momentum eaten up by the impact, The Shadow fell on the desk and, with blades cutting into the wood behind him, he rolled over the edge and out of sight behind the big piece of furniture. When the three remaining goons came around it, the cloaked fighter was nowhere in sight. Puzzled, they looked under the desk, but their enemy wasn’t there either.
The Shadow made his presence known soon enough though. When Siwan Khan’s henchmen raised their eyes, the first thing they saw was a pair of black boots sticking out under the hem of an equally black cloak. The Shadow, now armed with the dropped sabre of the first of the Herculean assassins to go down, was standing on Siwan Khan’s desk, and his eerie laughter reverberated through the room. An instant later, the impasse came to a sudden end when The Shadow felled one of the muscled Orientals with a kick to the chin and jumped down between the remaining two. Blades flashed and drew sparks as they clashed. Siwan Khan had trained his acolytes well, but their opponent rivalled Siwan Khan himself as a swordsman, and returned each blow parried with two of his own. After mere instants of pitched engagement, the Orientals had been driven apart. The dark fighter immediately pressed home his attack against one of his opponents, who fell with blood spurting from a horrific gash across his torso as steel hard muscles parted as easily as butter before the sabre’s edge.
As the last of the Oriental swordsmen rushed in for a back stab, the Shadow whirled around, crouching and stabbing in the same movement. His enemy stopped dead and looked down with bulging eyes at the blade which protruded from his belly. The Shadow looked up at him, and a low mocking chuckle filtered through his scarf as the great Oriental toppled backwards with a last curse moaned between clenched teeth.
Quickly, The Shadow collected the papers from the drawers of the desk and disappeared into the night. He didn’t stay to question the two unconscious goons, but contented himself with cuffing them and giving an anonymous phone call to the police giving away the address where two wrongdoers could be apprehended. He didn’t consider the night wasted. Siwan Khan might be gone, and of the silver there was no trace, but he had leads for where to search for both. First, the financial records might yield something to the expert scrutiny of Rutledge Mann, accountant extraordinaire and an agent of The Shadow. Second, Siwan Khan had unwittingly given away a key piece of information. The giant thugs which he had used for the ambush against his old nemesis wore tattoos, and these tattoos were not unknown to The Shadow, unrivalled expert on the many facets of the underworld. They were worn only by the members of one of the more ruthless Tongs of the San Francisco Chinatown. Apparently, Siwan Khan had moved his base of operations to the west coast, and presumably also the silver.
United States of America
December 7th, 1939
The shadows were alive in the Chinatown headquarters of Siwan Khan. A sinister shape of incarnated darkness flowed through the deserted corridors and great rooms stuffed with costly Chinese furniture, all red and saffron silks and mated gold. It made candles flicker as it moved among them, seeking relentlessly for the master of the house, which so far seemed uninhabited.
The search for the lair of Siwan Khan had been a tedious affair, involving the shaking down of more than one cringing stool pigeon. But as always, the Shadow had known under what stones of the underworld to look for clues, and as always, the various human cockroach and vermin that festered there were only too willing to spill their guts once confronted with their sombre nemesis. The Shadow had been surprised to learn that the feared Mongolian Crime Lord, who claimed to be a direct descendant of Genghis Khan had returned so soon after his last debacle. It was also surprising that he insisted on performing his foul deeds in New York, of all places, given that the Shadow had proved more than capable of foiling his plots in the past. Thrice already The Shadow had sent him packing back to his hidden realm in Sinkiang, the hidden city of Xanadu, but perhaps it was this very fact, coupled with the haughty arrogance of the Golden Master, the would-be conqueror of the world, that made him return to the haunts of The Shadow for his revanche.
Finally The Shadow moved into what looked very much like an office, also empty. It began to look as if his quarry had bolted, but he decided to go through the place in search of clues to the current whereabouts of Siwan Khan.
The living shadows coalesced into a man dressed in a long black cloak, worn over an equally black coat and hat, with his face covered below the fierce green eyes by a red scarf. The Shadow leaned over the desk and began looking through the drawers, rummaging through stacks of papers which were all mundane as could be; financial reports from various legitimate firms that were the front of Siwan’s crime network and also his money laundering arm. He would take these to Rutledge Mann, The Shadow’s agent for financial matters. Maybe something could be gleaned from them that wasn’t obvious at first sight.
Suddenly the investigation was interrupted by the sound of the measured, self-assured steps of four powerfully built Orientals who entered the room, right next to the desk, through hidden doors giving to small secret chambers in the walls of the office. The four men were tall for their race, and wore only loose-fitting red silk trousers tucked into soft boots, showing off their hugely muscled torsos and arms, which were decorated with intricate tattoos. Their heads were shaved, and each man carried a wickedly sharp Mongolian sabre. Obviously, Siwan Khan had been expecting his arrival and prepared a trap for him.
The Shadow, completely surrounded and hemmed in between wall, desk, and attackers on two sides had no time to draw his guns, much less fire them in two directions. Instead, he reacted with instant and ferocious aggression. Leaning with one hand on the table top, his entire body pivoted below the vicious slash of a sabre, delivering a savage kick right at the chest of the nearest of his assailants which sent him flying right into his comrade behind. His momentum eaten up by the impact, The Shadow fell on the desk and, with blades cutting into the wood behind him, he rolled over the edge and out of sight behind the big piece of furniture. When the three remaining goons came around it, the cloaked fighter was nowhere in sight. Puzzled, they looked under the desk, but their enemy wasn’t there either.
The Shadow made his presence known soon enough though. When Siwan Khan’s henchmen raised their eyes, the first thing they saw was a pair of black boots sticking out under the hem of an equally black cloak. The Shadow, now armed with the dropped sabre of the first of the Herculean assassins to go down, was standing on Siwan Khan’s desk, and his eerie laughter reverberated through the room. An instant later, the impasse came to a sudden end when The Shadow felled one of the muscled Orientals with a kick to the chin and jumped down between the remaining two. Blades flashed and drew sparks as they clashed. Siwan Khan had trained his acolytes well, but their opponent rivalled Siwan Khan himself as a swordsman, and returned each blow parried with two of his own. After mere instants of pitched engagement, the Orientals had been driven apart. The dark fighter immediately pressed home his attack against one of his opponents, who fell with blood spurting from a horrific gash across his torso as steel hard muscles parted as easily as butter before the sabre’s edge.
As the last of the Oriental swordsmen rushed in for a back stab, the Shadow whirled around, crouching and stabbing in the same movement. His enemy stopped dead and looked down with bulging eyes at the blade which protruded from his belly. The Shadow looked up at him, and a low mocking chuckle filtered through his scarf as the great Oriental toppled backwards with a last curse moaned between clenched teeth.
Quickly, The Shadow collected the papers from the drawers of the desk and disappeared into the night. He didn’t stay to question the two unconscious goons, but contented himself with cuffing them and giving an anonymous phone call to the police giving away the address where two wrongdoers could be apprehended. He didn’t consider the night wasted. Siwan Khan might be gone, and of the silver there was no trace, but he had leads for where to search for both. First, the financial records might yield something to the expert scrutiny of Rutledge Mann, accountant extraordinaire and an agent of The Shadow. Second, Siwan Khan had unwittingly given away a key piece of information. The giant thugs which he had used for the ambush against his old nemesis wore tattoos, and these tattoos were not unknown to The Shadow, unrivalled expert on the many facets of the underworld. They were worn only by the members of one of the more ruthless Tongs of the San Francisco Chinatown. Apparently, Siwan Khan had moved his base of operations to the west coast, and presumably also the silver.
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Very interesting. But what does this silver do or have to do with the larger plot? It seems likely that Siwan Khan is working for Fu or operating at his behest but to what end? This is excellent, the Yogi, the plot just keeps drawing me further and further in.
Thanks VILenin, my one reader nowdays it seems!
Fu Manchu infected me with one of his more virulent bugs, a more sinister variant of the Jade Fever, methinks, because I went all green in the face and lost all will to live (for a few hours, I really wanted to die). As a result, a planned update didn't happen. Will try again tonight.
Fu Manchu infected me with one of his more virulent bugs, a more sinister variant of the Jade Fever, methinks, because I went all green in the face and lost all will to live (for a few hours, I really wanted to die). As a result, a planned update didn't happen. Will try again tonight.
Now I'm wondering how 'The Shadow' is going to work into all of this. What an intricate you're putting together here, more complex by the update. And shake that 'Jade Fever'!
Wow, yogi, take care. But that's the price to pay for realistic writing skills, I guess
As for the scarce replies, I'm thinking most people are using the same tactic I pioneered in Cthulhu's aar, and which yielded mighty results.
Which reminds me that I am not in the least interested in another update, but heh, since you started the aar, you might as well finish it, eh?
As for the scarce replies, I'm thinking most people are using the same tactic I pioneered in Cthulhu's aar, and which yielded mighty results.
Which reminds me that I am not in the least interested in another update, but heh, since you started the aar, you might as well finish it, eh?
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Nuclear Winter said:Which reminds me that I am not in the least interested in another update, but heh, since you started the aar, you might as well finish it, eh?
Aahh, NO! Anything but that!
I will comply, honoured readership!
<scurries home from work to prepare yet another update - Theme; Their fate revealed!>
Excellent update, but Nuclear Winter's right.. don't know if I'm waiting with any anticipation...
Another nice update, why do think that Siwan Khan will end up having links to a certain Devil Doctor...
Good luck getting over that nasty fever.
Good luck getting over that nasty fever.
Glad I could be a bastion of loyal readership. That bug sounds nasty, I hope you're fully recovered from it. You've got to hang in there for your many fans, even if they're slow to post. (And your family probably appreciates you too )
That bug sounds nasty, I hope you're fully recovered from it. You've got to hang in there for your many fans, even if they're slow to post. (And your family probably appreciates you too )
Mettermrck: Thanks, I realise all this complexity must drive away a lot of readers... but it's what I want to write, so that can't be helped. Hopefully it will pay off for those that have the strength of character to stay with the story.
Evans:Well then, I have no illusions about you liking this update... but maybe reading it will be better than... oh, I don't know, undergo surgery?
Jape, Korppi: Thanks! You know what? I prefer your way of encouraging a writer!
Chengar Qordath: I don't know whatever could have given you that impression!
VILenin: I'm fully recovered, it lasted only some 24 hours (but what 24 hours!). Well, I shouldn't complain. My fans post much faster than I do.
Evans:Well then, I have no illusions about you liking this update... but maybe reading it will be better than... oh, I don't know, undergo surgery?
Jape, Korppi: Thanks! You know what? I prefer your way of encouraging a writer!
Chengar Qordath: I don't know whatever could have given you that impression!
VILenin: I'm fully recovered, it lasted only some 24 hours (but what 24 hours!). Well, I shouldn't complain. My fans post much faster than I do.
Secret Stronghold of Fu Manchu
Somewhere in Southern China, Pan-Asian Empire
December 8th, 1939
Torches and oil-lamps illuminated the sheer grey stone walls of Fu Manchu’s throne room for a midnight audience. Black-clad lines of silent, hooded dacoits lined the walls, and a lone figure in a red silk dress stood proudly in front of the throne podium.
Fu sat, menacing in black silk and leaning forward over the armrest of his throne.
‘You think yourself very clever, do you not, Favoured Daughter?’
The question sent chills flying up and down Fah Lo Suee’s spine. When her father had summoned her unexpectedly to the throne room, her mind had gone through several possible versions of what might follow. This kind of question had been the prelude to the worst case scenario. In her imagination, things had gone quickly downhill from there.
‘I’m not sure what you’re hinting at, father’, she answered neutrally.
Fu Manchu gave her an ironic applause with his slender, long-nailed fingers. ‘Excellent, don’t give anything away until you have to. Unfortunately, it will do you no good whatsoever.’
Fah Lo Suee did not answer, but lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to allow her dreadful progenitor see any hint of the stark terror that lured in her heart.
‘I am talking of course of the news that just reached me from my agents in London. The British Empire has agreed to a negotiated peace with the German Reich. Agreed to a German proposal, I might add. Now, given that you have “the German Führer in your hip pocket”, I believe those were your exact words, I would be very interested to know how it this… disaster… could possibly come to happen. And a free piece of advice, favoured daughter: make it good.’
The Lady of the Si-Fan shrugged. ‘It appears the effects of the drugs you provided Morrell with wear of quickly. You did hear that the British killed him off yesterday, didn’t you? Not surprising, really, considering that Nayland-Smith seems to have been aware of his power over Hitler. The first time Dennis tried to prove he was right to his superiors, but this time he used some uncharacteristically direct means, with success. But you always underestimated him, didn’t you, father?’
Fu Manchu’s flaming emerald gaze bore into his daughter. ‘Do you take me for a complete idiot, favoured daughter? I suppose you had nothing to do with the attempt on that despicable old plotter, Lord Halifax either?’
‘There has been an attempt?’ she asked, deadpan.
‘Bravo.’ Fu’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Yes, there has been an attempt. The official residence of the British PM was destroyed in a mysterious bomb blast – British press didn’t even try to blame the Luftwaffe…’
‘Probably trying to smooth things over for the peace treaty. What now, will you cancel the attack on America?’
‘Ingenious, favoured daughter, most ingenious. No, it’s far too late; the fleet of Yamamoto is in position and will commence the attack within hours. We’ll just have to go ahead and hope for the best. But let’s not change the subject just yet. Every living thing in that house was killed, except two persons. Unfortunately, Lord Halifax survived with only minor wounds, thanks to an agent of the Secret Service, one Lieutenant James Bond, who was gravely wounded, and is presently hovering between life and death. If he lives at all, he’ll be crippled for life, so the attempt wasn’t a total waste. That young man has caused us too much trouble already.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, father.’
‘You won’t be glad to hear this; according to my agents, the British received Hitler’s proposal the day BEFORE the assassination of Dr Morrell! Now, what do you have to say about that, I wonder?’
Fah felt all blood drain from her face, and was grateful for the heavy makeup she wore. It would cover most facial reactions to stress, and even now, her face remained calm as sculpted ivory. For a few instants that felt like years, she searched for an avenue of escape, some excuse that Fu Manchu could possibly believe. It was hopeless. All she could do was to gracefully admit defeat.
‘I’m sorry father’, she said in a very small voice. ‘I can explain…’
‘Don’t bother, I think I have pieced together what happened. Now, Favoured Daughter, listen carefully and do not hesitate to correct me if I’m mistaken in some detail.’
She said nothing. There was nothing to say and nothing to do. Fu Manchu’s dacoits lined the walls of the throne room. No escape was possible. She considered trying to kill him while he gloated, but she knew he was at least her equal in the martial arts, and would not fall for a surprise attack. She waited.
‘I think it began when your pet German freed you from Moscow, right? Being a woman, you felt abandoned by me, vulnerable and weak and longed for a man to take care of you. Since this man saved you of his own accord, you believed you could trust him, and released him from your hypnotic control. Except our friend Skorzeny was far more devious than I would ever have given him credit for, and recorded your release command without you noticing! I must say, favoured daughter, your taste in men is improving. I didn’t think the man had been born that could fool you so completely. Am I correct so far?’
‘Essentially yes, father.’
‘Very good, favoured daughter. Now, I think that Skorzeny took this recording and used it to free Morrell, which in turn caused Hitler to regain his wits. It must have been all that that little puffed up psychotic could do, to keep in his outrage at being manipulated in such a fashion! They kept up the charade quite well, I think. Now… you learned of this very recently, otherwise you would have taken steps to cover yourself earlier. I have not pieced out how, exactly, but I guess it must have been something Morrell said, or failed to say in your exchanges over the wireless… am I still on the right track?’
Fah Lo Suee nodded dejectedly. Fu Manchu hadn’t guessed that she and Otto were still on good terms, but the notions of forgiving and love seemed almost incomprehensible to him. Still, that made precious little difference to Fah now.
‘Very well. So you figured out that in the short run, an Anglo-German peace would expose your failure, and in the long run, only Morrells death could avoid it being known. Very well reasoned. And if found out, you could claim that you were acting with my best interest in mind. I must say, that was a monstrous piece of bad luck that Halifax survived… for me. For you, it would have made no difference.’
‘No?’ Her head jerked up at that.
‘No. I can be magnanimous, you know, at least to my useful underlings. Yes, you were weak and acted foolishly letting Skorzeny free, but I blame myself for that to some extent, I shouldn’t have left you to rot in Moscow. Also, you knew I considered him at best of secondary importance as an agent, and you were not trying to work against me. In all fairness, you could never have foreseen that this pet Nazi of yours would be able to manipulate you like he did. After all, you’re still little more than a child, despite your undeniable talents. Yes, you lied to me and tried to cover your tracks, but given the punishment I administered last time you betrayed me, that’s also understandable, if not forgivable. And most importantly, you also tried your best not only to cover the tracks of your failure, but also set right your mistake. If you had informed me, I doubt I could have mounted a more deadly attempt on Halifax myself. One with more finesse, possibly, but hardly more lethal. If Halifax had died, it would have salvaged my entire strategy. That he survived is unfortunate in the extreme, but purely due to chance.’
Fah Lo Suee had been listening in astonished silence. Realising that Fu Manchu was expecting an answer, she cleared her throat slightly. ‘Father, you surprise me, and make me full of shame and gratitude.’ She hoped that was the right contrite tone to adopt.
‘Stop trying to please me! When will you accept that you cannot influence my actions in the slightest, Favoured daughter? No, it’s solely because of the mitigating circumstances I have numbered that I have decided to let you off with a slap on the wrist. Men, seize her!’
The dacoits moved forward, and Fah Lo Suee instinctively adopted a defensive Kung Fu stance.
‘Do not be an idiot, favoured daughter! I know you can hold your own against ten of my men, but I have twenty in here… and I’ll join them in subduing you if needs be. Of course, if it comes to that, you’ll loose all residual favour you might have with me and I’ll deal with you in the harshest possible fashion.’
‘What will you do to me if I relent, father?’
‘I’ve told you already. A slap on the wrist. Literally.’
Knowing full well Fu would find some cruel way to twist his words into a fearsome chastisement, Fah never the less stood down. Better a chance at salvation than certain doom. The dacoits roughly grabbed her arms and dragged her towards a wall that was covered with drapes. These were pulled apart to reveal an intricate machine, with lockable steel loops for the wrists of hand and feet on an upstanding table, and a silver metal half-orb that could be lowered over the head of someone bound to the machine.
‘My pride and joy, the pain amplifier, now more efficient than ever.’ Fu Manchu chuckled. ‘As I said, nothing more than a slap on the wrist, but you’ll receive it plugged to the amplifier. I guess that you should stop screaming no more than two or three days after you receive the slap. But of course, by then your throat will be sore, your legs and feet will ache… We’ll see how long I decide to let you stay in there.’
Fah couldn’t repress a whimper as she was fastened to the cruel device. Then, smiling condescendingly, Fu Manchu slapped her wrist sharply.
Fah Lo Suee’s private purgatory commenced.
Somewhere in Southern China, Pan-Asian Empire
December 8th, 1939
Torches and oil-lamps illuminated the sheer grey stone walls of Fu Manchu’s throne room for a midnight audience. Black-clad lines of silent, hooded dacoits lined the walls, and a lone figure in a red silk dress stood proudly in front of the throne podium.
Fu sat, menacing in black silk and leaning forward over the armrest of his throne.
‘You think yourself very clever, do you not, Favoured Daughter?’
The question sent chills flying up and down Fah Lo Suee’s spine. When her father had summoned her unexpectedly to the throne room, her mind had gone through several possible versions of what might follow. This kind of question had been the prelude to the worst case scenario. In her imagination, things had gone quickly downhill from there.
‘I’m not sure what you’re hinting at, father’, she answered neutrally.
Fu Manchu gave her an ironic applause with his slender, long-nailed fingers. ‘Excellent, don’t give anything away until you have to. Unfortunately, it will do you no good whatsoever.’
Fah Lo Suee did not answer, but lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to allow her dreadful progenitor see any hint of the stark terror that lured in her heart.
‘I am talking of course of the news that just reached me from my agents in London. The British Empire has agreed to a negotiated peace with the German Reich. Agreed to a German proposal, I might add. Now, given that you have “the German Führer in your hip pocket”, I believe those were your exact words, I would be very interested to know how it this… disaster… could possibly come to happen. And a free piece of advice, favoured daughter: make it good.’
The Lady of the Si-Fan shrugged. ‘It appears the effects of the drugs you provided Morrell with wear of quickly. You did hear that the British killed him off yesterday, didn’t you? Not surprising, really, considering that Nayland-Smith seems to have been aware of his power over Hitler. The first time Dennis tried to prove he was right to his superiors, but this time he used some uncharacteristically direct means, with success. But you always underestimated him, didn’t you, father?’
Fu Manchu’s flaming emerald gaze bore into his daughter. ‘Do you take me for a complete idiot, favoured daughter? I suppose you had nothing to do with the attempt on that despicable old plotter, Lord Halifax either?’
‘There has been an attempt?’ she asked, deadpan.
‘Bravo.’ Fu’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Yes, there has been an attempt. The official residence of the British PM was destroyed in a mysterious bomb blast – British press didn’t even try to blame the Luftwaffe…’
‘Probably trying to smooth things over for the peace treaty. What now, will you cancel the attack on America?’
‘Ingenious, favoured daughter, most ingenious. No, it’s far too late; the fleet of Yamamoto is in position and will commence the attack within hours. We’ll just have to go ahead and hope for the best. But let’s not change the subject just yet. Every living thing in that house was killed, except two persons. Unfortunately, Lord Halifax survived with only minor wounds, thanks to an agent of the Secret Service, one Lieutenant James Bond, who was gravely wounded, and is presently hovering between life and death. If he lives at all, he’ll be crippled for life, so the attempt wasn’t a total waste. That young man has caused us too much trouble already.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, father.’
‘You won’t be glad to hear this; according to my agents, the British received Hitler’s proposal the day BEFORE the assassination of Dr Morrell! Now, what do you have to say about that, I wonder?’
Fah felt all blood drain from her face, and was grateful for the heavy makeup she wore. It would cover most facial reactions to stress, and even now, her face remained calm as sculpted ivory. For a few instants that felt like years, she searched for an avenue of escape, some excuse that Fu Manchu could possibly believe. It was hopeless. All she could do was to gracefully admit defeat.
‘I’m sorry father’, she said in a very small voice. ‘I can explain…’
‘Don’t bother, I think I have pieced together what happened. Now, Favoured Daughter, listen carefully and do not hesitate to correct me if I’m mistaken in some detail.’
She said nothing. There was nothing to say and nothing to do. Fu Manchu’s dacoits lined the walls of the throne room. No escape was possible. She considered trying to kill him while he gloated, but she knew he was at least her equal in the martial arts, and would not fall for a surprise attack. She waited.
‘I think it began when your pet German freed you from Moscow, right? Being a woman, you felt abandoned by me, vulnerable and weak and longed for a man to take care of you. Since this man saved you of his own accord, you believed you could trust him, and released him from your hypnotic control. Except our friend Skorzeny was far more devious than I would ever have given him credit for, and recorded your release command without you noticing! I must say, favoured daughter, your taste in men is improving. I didn’t think the man had been born that could fool you so completely. Am I correct so far?’
‘Essentially yes, father.’
‘Very good, favoured daughter. Now, I think that Skorzeny took this recording and used it to free Morrell, which in turn caused Hitler to regain his wits. It must have been all that that little puffed up psychotic could do, to keep in his outrage at being manipulated in such a fashion! They kept up the charade quite well, I think. Now… you learned of this very recently, otherwise you would have taken steps to cover yourself earlier. I have not pieced out how, exactly, but I guess it must have been something Morrell said, or failed to say in your exchanges over the wireless… am I still on the right track?’
Fah Lo Suee nodded dejectedly. Fu Manchu hadn’t guessed that she and Otto were still on good terms, but the notions of forgiving and love seemed almost incomprehensible to him. Still, that made precious little difference to Fah now.
‘Very well. So you figured out that in the short run, an Anglo-German peace would expose your failure, and in the long run, only Morrells death could avoid it being known. Very well reasoned. And if found out, you could claim that you were acting with my best interest in mind. I must say, that was a monstrous piece of bad luck that Halifax survived… for me. For you, it would have made no difference.’
‘No?’ Her head jerked up at that.
‘No. I can be magnanimous, you know, at least to my useful underlings. Yes, you were weak and acted foolishly letting Skorzeny free, but I blame myself for that to some extent, I shouldn’t have left you to rot in Moscow. Also, you knew I considered him at best of secondary importance as an agent, and you were not trying to work against me. In all fairness, you could never have foreseen that this pet Nazi of yours would be able to manipulate you like he did. After all, you’re still little more than a child, despite your undeniable talents. Yes, you lied to me and tried to cover your tracks, but given the punishment I administered last time you betrayed me, that’s also understandable, if not forgivable. And most importantly, you also tried your best not only to cover the tracks of your failure, but also set right your mistake. If you had informed me, I doubt I could have mounted a more deadly attempt on Halifax myself. One with more finesse, possibly, but hardly more lethal. If Halifax had died, it would have salvaged my entire strategy. That he survived is unfortunate in the extreme, but purely due to chance.’
Fah Lo Suee had been listening in astonished silence. Realising that Fu Manchu was expecting an answer, she cleared her throat slightly. ‘Father, you surprise me, and make me full of shame and gratitude.’ She hoped that was the right contrite tone to adopt.
‘Stop trying to please me! When will you accept that you cannot influence my actions in the slightest, Favoured daughter? No, it’s solely because of the mitigating circumstances I have numbered that I have decided to let you off with a slap on the wrist. Men, seize her!’
The dacoits moved forward, and Fah Lo Suee instinctively adopted a defensive Kung Fu stance.
‘Do not be an idiot, favoured daughter! I know you can hold your own against ten of my men, but I have twenty in here… and I’ll join them in subduing you if needs be. Of course, if it comes to that, you’ll loose all residual favour you might have with me and I’ll deal with you in the harshest possible fashion.’
‘What will you do to me if I relent, father?’
‘I’ve told you already. A slap on the wrist. Literally.’
Knowing full well Fu would find some cruel way to twist his words into a fearsome chastisement, Fah never the less stood down. Better a chance at salvation than certain doom. The dacoits roughly grabbed her arms and dragged her towards a wall that was covered with drapes. These were pulled apart to reveal an intricate machine, with lockable steel loops for the wrists of hand and feet on an upstanding table, and a silver metal half-orb that could be lowered over the head of someone bound to the machine.
‘My pride and joy, the pain amplifier, now more efficient than ever.’ Fu Manchu chuckled. ‘As I said, nothing more than a slap on the wrist, but you’ll receive it plugged to the amplifier. I guess that you should stop screaming no more than two or three days after you receive the slap. But of course, by then your throat will be sore, your legs and feet will ache… We’ll see how long I decide to let you stay in there.’
Fah couldn’t repress a whimper as she was fastened to the cruel device. Then, smiling condescendingly, Fu Manchu slapped her wrist sharply.
Fah Lo Suee’s private purgatory commenced.
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The twisted fiend! Though I must say I'm a little surprised at the leniency. The AAR is thoroughly excellent, my only reservation is that Earth's Saviour *just* squeezed in ahead of this reply...
P.S. It seems that the reverse psychology worked!
P.S. It seems that the reverse psychology worked!
Evans, I think you underestimate the power of the dark side of the...errrr...I mean the pain amplifier.
Great update, Yog. Fu really deserves to be know as the Devil Doctor.
Great update, Yog.
Fu really deserves to be know as the Devil Doctor.