Previous Post Silver Aegis # 10 “More of the Legend of the Ü-Wolf!” There were six vehicles in the parking area outside the Stavrosos camp, most of them pick up trucks, lined up so that their high beams caught the onrushing investigators head on. Through the glare Scott made out at least twenty intruders, armed with bats, ax handles, and other traditional weapons of the thug. Three men were beating away at his bike. “Stop this! Stop this now!!” King Rajko commanded. A rough chorus of laughter rose up from the mob. Scott made out other figures in the woods, men clumsily trying to outflank the small group of gypsies that had gathered. “You carneys never learn, do ya?” the gang’s leader, a big man in a ski mask carrying a sledgehammer, shouted back, “You ain’t wanted here. So bug out!!” He and several others began to move forward. “Rajko,” the Argent Avenger said, “keep your people back. I’ll deal with this.” “Are you mad?! There is no way-“ But Scott was already on the move. He dove into the woods where the closest attacker crept. There was the crunch of branches, then of something much heavier, then silence. “Scott?” Desmerelda asked nervously. A body was launched from the shadows of the forest, over the heads of the advancing toughs. It crashed into the grille of one of the trucks, the force of the impact shattering its headlamps. “What the-?” WHIRRR! KRRISH!! WHIRRR! KRRISH!! WHIRRR! KRRISH!! -were the sounds made by chain links being thrown into more of the cars’ lights. Soon half the clearing was enshrouded in night. “What’s going on?! Who is that guy?” a thug whose face was concealed by a bandana asked worriedly. “Shut up!” the leader peered into the dark, trying in vain to find their attacker, “Just, just grab one of the gypsies! That will flush him out!” The threat of hostages was enough to do the job, but it would soon become apparent that this strategy would not improve the group’s chances. Scott Scoggins vaulted from the trees, the remnants of the chain he had taken from his first victim still in his hands. When he came down he wrapped it around the neck of the frightened thug, then whipped him into several more. WHOMP!! A man swung at him wildly with a tire iron. Silver Aegis dropped down, swept his legs so that he lost his balance, then mule kicked him into another crowd of onrushing goons. WHUD! Next the Patriotic Powerhouse executed a perfect handspring onto another large tough. Grabbing the man’s bat he blocked attacks from three other men who managed to encircle him. “What are you going to do now, tough guy?” one of them sneered. Scott snapped off the handle of the bat and then drove the pointed end into the earth. Using it for balance he spin kicked the trio into oblivion. “I call that move the Donald O’ Connor,” the Man Out of Time and Place replied casually as he leveled another foe with a more traditional right cross, “You should surrender before I have to get really rough and show you the Gene Kelly.” The group leader raised his hammer high and charged. Scott hip tossed him to the ground, but wasn’t quick enough to prevent getting brained by a wild swing from the man and he too, fell. “Get everybody! Get everybody and go!!” the big man ordered, his breath ragged from exertion. His minions gathered up their fallen comrades and ran to the vehicles. After a few near collisions on both foot and behind the wheel, they tore off into the night. “Friend Scott!” Rajko quickly came to the aid of his people’s fallen protector, “Are you well?” The Silver Aegis opened his eyes and nodded, “Yeah, I’m OK. Deputy Huey just clipped me.” “But we saw- he hit- your head-“ Desmerelda spoke rapidly as Scott rose to his feet, “Deputy Huey?” “One of Sherriff Landon’s men led this attack?” King Rajko’s voice rumbled. “Yes. I recognized his posture from when we met earlier, on the beach,” Scott rubbed the back of his skull, “Clearly there is more going on here than it would first appear. Which is why these might come in handy later.” Desmerelda ogled the loop of keys Silver Aegis spun around his forefinger, “You stole Deputy Huey’s keys when he attacked you!” “Right. I figured having these would be worth the risk of getting hit,” Silver Aegis looked over to his ruined motorcycle and sighed, “Didn’t plan on losing my ride though.” “Do not worry, Scott Scoggins: after what you have done tonight, you will be our most honored guest for as long as you need.” “Thank you, King Rajko. I’m going to take you up on that offer,” Silver Aegis pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open, “but first I’m going to make a quick phone call. As pathetic as those toughs were I’m going to need help to discover what’s going on here….” ***** The drone of a single engine plane brought several gypsies out of their tents and wagons. Half a mile above a Cessna 350 circled the camp. “What now?” Usim wondered bitterly, “They bomb us?” In fact, it was a skydiver that tumbled from the plane. The parachute quickly bloomed open, and the daredevil drifted to the middle of the gypsy’s horse pasture, uncannily evading the field’s more pungent hazards. By the time Scott Scoggins and others made it to the landing zone the diver had flattened out the chute and was in the process of rolling it up. “Nice landing,” Silver Aegis, who had forgotten the number of air drops he had made in his career, complimented, “especially in those.” He pointed at the parachutist’s sling backed pumps. Josie Hart, features writer for the Parodiopolis Times Picayune, removed her helmet and shook out her bobbed chesnut hair, “Thanks.” She unzipped her jumpsuit and stepped out of it, revealing a black cocktail dress that matched her equally inappropriate footwear, “So, I’m here. And I got the scoop. Where do you want to hear it?” ***** “This wine is excellent, your highness,” Josie complimented once she, Scott, Rajko, and Desmerelda were back in his cottage, “the cheese too.” “Why thank you. We make both ourselves.” “And I really mean that. After Scoggins here told me where he was holed up I half expected a meal of funnel cake and watered down cola when I arrived, but this stuff is top notch.” “I didn’t expect you to show up at all,” the Shield Flinger said. “There’s a soiree in town I plan on attending, once I fill you in.” “I am still unclear,” Desmerelda admitted, not quite sure what to make of the brassy young woman who had literally dropped into camp, “are you a superhero, like Scott?” “Heh. No, honey, I’m just a reporter with spectacular flair.” Scott Scoggins explained further, “I called Miss Hart because she is an exceptionally resourceful and fearless advocate of the truth. If there is anyone who can help us, it is her.” “And besides, Platinum Pants here owes me a story from the last time,” Josie popped the last wedge of goat’s cheese in her mouth, “And this one’s a doozy.” “Doozy?” Desmerelda asked. “Sure, any story that has the headline Nazi Werewolf in Cahoots with Mob is bound to get the tongues wagging.” King Rajko entreated, “Perhaps you should start at the beginning, Miss Hart.” “OK. I started by looking into this Räuberischer guy, trying to pick up what happened to him after you all left Austria for here. Turns out when the Hapsburgs fell he lost his land and privilege. He still had some money, though, and traveled Eastern Europe for a bit. He becomes a member of the Thule Society, and eventually joins the Nazi Party, working in the Ahnenerbe.” “The Thule Society was a group of intellectuals and mystics dedicated to proving the Germanic people were descendants of a lost civilization, and thus, the ‘master race’. And the Ahnenerbe was a similar, later organization, and was also involved itself in grotesque medical experiments,” Silver Aegis further exposited. “That’s the short hand version of it, but you are really going to want to read my article to get the real skinny. At any rate, when World War Two broke out, the Nazis decided they needed every advantage possible to take over the world, and that included drafting Teutonic Werewolves. Scientists in the Ahnenerbe experimented on him, making him stronger, faster, and giving him gills and webbed, er, claws. Then they set him loose in the Allied shipping lanes. Estimates are that the Ü-Wolf sank over seventy kilotons of boats and cargo in his career.” “How do you know all this?” Rajko wondered. “Got access to an old OSS file. Now the rest of this is public record. And it’s also where the story gets a little more, heh heh, hairy. See, Ü-Wolf died in 1944. Killed by an American mystery man, that’s the ‘forties’ term for superhero- named Captain Torpedo. Know the guy, Scoggins?” Josie asked pointedly. “I did not serve in World War Two in this reality,” Silver Aegis replied. “Oh that’s right. I shouldn’t have forgotten that; it was one of the few parts of your backstory you didn’t have wiped from my mind,” was Josie’s breezy retort, “Anyway, it would appear the lycanthropic component to this caper is a literal dead end. Though it is interesting to note that there is a Captain Torpedo Museum right here in Chaney Shores. If my other lead doesn’t pan out we can always see what we can learn there.” “Jäger Von Räuberischer: dead,” Desmerelda shook her head, “it is not possible. The curse-” “Your people have more problems than some century old curse, honey. Somebody’s trying to take your land.” “We know that,” Rajko interrupted, “since last year, Mr. Chaney, Ronald Chaney’s grandson, has come to us with offers to break the contract. We say no. He uses influence to make our lives harder. Calls us thieves and beggars in the paper. He gets Town Council to reject plans to improve road that comes to carnival. Sends Social Service people into our homes and accuse of abusing our children,” a look of revelation crossed the man’s face, “You think, this and the murder, they could be connected?” Josie nodded, “Indeed I do, especially when I found out who Chaney’s newest business partner is: Augustus Waddell.” “The Kiwi of Crime!” Silver Aegis identified the alleged bookmaker and smuggler by the name used among the Parodiopolis demimonde. “Waddell Development LTD has bought up most of the property in and around Chaney Shores either directly or through shell companies. This camp sits on one of the few pieces of land the Kiwi doesn’t own.” “This gangster is the one who is killing my people, to try to drive us out?” “It’s a darn good possibility, King Rajko. At the very least, he bears further investigation. How convenient it is then that the chubby little schnook is attending the annual Chaney Shores Yacht Club Charity Clambake and Lobster Boil tonight?” “And how convenient it is,” Silver Aegis noted, “you are dressed for an evening of fine dining and festivity.” Josie Hart beamed widely, “Who wants to give me a ride to town?” Next: “On the Trail of the Ü-Wolf!”

There's also an interesting potential link between the backstory you describe here and some things Al B. was planning about Costa del Lune. Zeitgeist.