by Derrick Ferguson

PART SIX

Fortune McCall stepped out of the elevator, dressed in his full Blackhawk uniform, better prepared for the day after a good six hours of sleep.

He and the others had flown in from South America, landing at the private airfield in Long Island. The prisoners were being held there for interrogation while McCall and the others had refreshed themselves for the briefing this morning.

The eighty-fifth floor of the Corporate HQ was a beehive of actvitity. This floor was where The Blackhawks had their own private offices as well as Regina Mallory's lab and the work stations for the support crew. Men and women dressed in steel blue jumpsuits with Blackhawk insignia patches on the shoulders dashed to and fro, greeting McCall as he walked to Eddie Padilla's office. McCall stood in the doorway and grinned as he listened to Eddie's conversation.

McCall's best friend was holding the latest issue of the authorized BLACKHAWK comic book and was highly aggravated about the latest story.

"What is it with this hack writer Ferguson? This is the FIFTH issue in a row where he's got me captured and tortured by the bad guys! What's he got against me, Natalie?"

On the other end, Natalie Reed sighed. She had heard this complaint many times from Eddie. As Director of Public Reations she was in charge of licensing for the comic books, the action figures and video games based on Blackhawk International adventures.

"Eddie, Ferguson asked to write some original stories and I said okay. Maybe you oughta talk to him yourself."

"I TRIED!" Padilla yowled. "He moves every three months or so! You can't find him with a search warrant! But this has got to stop! I had dinner with Jimmy Smits the other night and he says that he's not gonna play me in the movie version if he's gonna spend all his screen time tied in a chair!"

"Well, you know how writers are     they're all whacked out on caffeine and benezdrine     "

"You get hold of Ferguson and tell him if he doesn't get on the stick, I'm gonna hunt him down and give him a hollowpoint enema! Maybe THAT'LL improve his so-called writing!" Padilla slammed down the phone and glowered at the grinning McCall. "And what the hell do YOU find so goddamn funny?"

"Me? Nothing! I agree with you, bro. I never liked Ferguson writing the comic myself. You want me to talk to him for you?" McCall said with a straight face. Inside, he was fighting to keep from bursting out laughing. McCall had been paying Ferguson extra money to deliberately write the unflattering scenes with Padilla. And next month, there was going to be a scene where Padilla had to go undercover dressed as a nun. McCall couldn't wait.

"I got a serious bone to pick with you, anyway, Fortune. What's the idea of leaving me behind to get my ass chewed off by Chan while you have all the fun down in South America?"

The two men fell in step, heading back to the elevator that would take them upstairs to Chan's office for the briefing.

McCall snorted. "You always were more diplomatic than me, Eddie     you can deal with Chan's bullshit better than I can. I swear, if he keeps on with this-"

"What? You'll quit?"

"Hell, no. Chan's stuck with me until one of us is dead and buried."

"I'm betting he outlives all of us. In any case, Mr. Sirianni spoke to me this morning and it looks like we're going to find out exactly what this thing is all about."

*********************************************

The rest of The Blackhawks were already seated around the circular conference table which was a giant Blackhawk emblem. Sirianni grinned and shook McCall hand as they came in. "Good to have you back, son."

McCall nodded curtly and walked to his seat, taking a moment to swipe Tracy's feet off the table and onto the floor. Padilla sat at his right hand and conversation ceased as Weng Chan strode into the room, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand, a couple of Palm Pilots in the other. "Good morning people. Chuck's going to run the briefing this morning, but I've got a few words to say first     to McCall in particular."

McCall sighed wearily. Here it comes, he thought.

Chan put his mug and Palm Pilots down on the table and took a deep breath. "I owe you an apology, McCall. You were sent on a assignment without the full facts and because of that, the safety of your team was compromised. That won't happen again. But this operation was on a need to know basis."

"And you didn't see fit to provide me and my team with the necessary intelligence to carry out our mission, sir? No disrespect, but that sucks beef jerky."

Sirianni cut in. "Mr. Chan did what he thought was right, McCall. He was looking at the total operational package, not just your end of it And if you've got beef with him about that, then you've got beef with me as well."

"Then you see nothing wrong with me being left out of the loop in regards to vital information that could keep my team alive then?"

Sirianni frowned slightly. "Take that attitude out of your voice, mister. Or do I have to remind you that you DID exceed your orders? You were to pass on the disc and nothing more. Nobody instructed you to take prisoners." Sirianni held up a hand, cutting off McCall's answer. "I don't require any furthur response from you. Let's just chalk this one up to miscommunication all way round and go on from there. Agreed?"

McCall didn't agree in the slightest, but he wanted to get on with the briefing and find out what all this was about and in any case, ths was a discussion better held in private with just Sirianni and Chan.

"Let's get on with it, Chuck." Chan put an end to that issue and Sirianni nodded.

"Okay. The current operation is codenamed: White Lion. All other Strategic Operations are to be designated to the support team for the duration until this operation is concluded. Inform your departments accordingly.

"For the past three years, key members of the Blackhawk International Aerospace Division have been blackmailed and data regarding our satellite systems has been pirated. We've finally determined who's behind it."

Sirianni pressed a remote and a holographic head, three times life size appeared in the air above the table. A baldheaded man with a wicked looking goatee. "Dr. Sundown Mayhew. Anybody know anything about him?"

Regina Mallory spoke up. "Mayhew's a genius when it comes to military technology. He's worked for the U.S. government for years designing weapons systems. Supposedly he's been busy designing a new type of particle beam system."

"Correct. He calls it The Mastershot. It's supposed to be 100% accurate. It can take out a single man or an entire armored division from it's orbit 22,300 above the Earth once it's up. Mayhew's supposed to be launching it ten days from now."

"But why steal our stuff?" Zollo wanted to know. He was scanning his information packet. "From what I see here, Mayhew's got the resources necessary to put this thing up on his own. He doesn't need to steal from us."

"Back during the 1940's, before the U.S. officially entered World War II, The Blackhawks were involved in stopping a Nazi agent from his mission to detonate an atomic device in New York City. This agent was a British actor. He was fairly well known, some stage work, some B-movies. His cover as an actor provided him with ample opportunity to travel to and from this country as he pleased. The name of the actor was Sir Death Mayhew."

"Mayhew?" McCall looked surprised. "I just saw one of his movies on the American Movie Channel last month. I think it was 'The Crimson Eagle'     .pretty good pirate flick. Charles Laughton played the bad guy. Mayhew was a Nazi spy?"

Sirianni nodded. "Of course, that information was never divulged to the public as the government felt that if U.S. citizens knew how close we had come to having New York wiped off the map, it would have been a huge blow to morale."

"So what happened?"

"Mayhew died, of course. He was dying from cancer anyway. He had a brother who inherited his title and estates and the brother had two children, Sundown and his sister, Orchid." Sundown Mayhew's head disappeared to be replaced by that of an auburn haired woman.

"Orchid Mayhew is as adept in killing as her brother is in weapons technology. According to Interpol, she's one of the top assassins operating in Europe today. She's cold-blooded and totally loyal to her brother. There's rumors of an incestuous relationship there and supposedly, Orchid's known for her huge appetite for designer drugs."

Sirianni pressed the remote again and an island appeared with full schematics. "This is Lugia, the Mayhew's private island off the coast of Greece. Sundown Mayhew has his research labs here, a private airfield, even his family's ancestral English castle which he had brought over stone by stone and reconstructed. He also has a private army there, trained and commanded by this man," Sirianni manipulated the remote and a head appeared above the island. "Sandoval Ifr."

That got a reaction from all The Blackhawks. Looks of recognition, surprise, shock and outright hatred. Zollo in particular had a murderous expression on his face.

Chan said quietly, "I believe you've had dealings with Sandoval Ifr in Vietnam, Pasquale."

In a voice thick with red rage, Zollo nodded. "That son of a bitch butchered several villages just to make an example. He ran his own private kingdom deep in the mountains. He was like a ghost. Nobody could find him. And believe me, we tried like holy hell."

"Jeez," Scocco whispered. "Ifr     that guy's the Prince of friggin' Darkness     and he's workin' for this Mayhew?"

"He is. Ifr's completely and totally psychopathic, with a love of torture. He's also brilliant and knows more ways to kill than anybody I've ever heard of. Our agent on the island reports that Ifr and Orchid have these little 'contests' where they torture men and women, trying to top each other in creativity and imagination."

"What agent?" Padilla wanted to know.

"Tais Pennington-Smythe. She's been on Lugia for the past four months, scoping out the Mayhews and feeding us 411."

McCall shot to his feet and shouted in disbelief; "You sent Tais into that snake pit! Good God, I don't believe this!"

Padilla put a hand on his friend's arm. "C'mon, Fortune, you know good and well that if anybody can survive, it's Elbee."

Zollo barked out a laugh. "Hell, knowin' Elbee, she's probably got the whole damn island bowin' and scrapin' and taking out the trash!"

There was a round of laughter around the table that was not shared by McCall.

Tais Pennington-Smythe was something of a wonder. A woman of exotic beauty, the offspring of an English Secret Service agent and an Egyptian/Brazilian adventuress, she was rich, gorgeous, with a Ph.D in psychology and a maniacal lust for excitement and danger. Chan had brought her into the organization as a covert agent, who was seperate from The Blackhawks but worked with them. Her ties to both high soceity and the intelligence community made her a valuable resource. It also helped that she was one of the world's ranking martial artists. Naturally, the team had quickly nicknamed her, 'Lady Blackhawk' and usually referred to her as 'Elbee'.

McCall himself was fond of her, but found himself more than a little intimidated by her aristocratic manner and self-sufficiency.

"Tais volunteered for the job, McCall." Chan said. "I love Tais as much as anybody here and wouldn't dream of sending her into such a hazardous situation. But she knew the job was dangerous when she took it."

Sirianni resumed talking. "Sundown Mayhew is having a birthday party for his sister in two days on the island. McCall, Mayhew has sent you an invitation."

"Me? What the hell for?"

"Whatever Mayhew is up to, he wants Blackhawk involved. That's you. The Mayhews and The Blackhawks have a blood feud going and obviously, Sundown and Orchid want to even up the score for their dead uncle. Well, the time's come for us to stop fencing in the shadows and settle this thing. McCall, you, Tracy and Regina are going to the party. The others will be on standby on Blackie to assist. We want you to go to the party and get Tais out. Maybe Mayhew will tip his hand as to exactly what the hell he's up to. In any case, you'll get to see first hand what you're up against."

Sirianni looked directly at McCall. "Mayhew's capacity for destruction is appaling. The thought of a particle beam weapon in his hands is beyond frightening and if he's planning to use Blackhawk International's satellite system in some way to use this weapon, we have more than a vested interest in finding out what he's doing."

Chan spoke up. "I want one thing understood clearly: Sundown Mayhew is probably the most dangerous opponent The Blackhawks have come up against to date. Chuck and I were there back in the 40's when Death Mayhew almost blew up New York and Blackhawk and Natalie Reed stopped him by so close a margin, I still get the shakes when I think about it. The Mayhews are NOT to be underestimated. McCall, you think I didn't let you in on this because I don't think you're up to it. You're right. You're reckless and you tend to rush into things without a well-thought out plan. You like relying too much on your resourcefulness. Well, you've got a test here. You up to it?"

McCall looked around the table at hs team and spoke to them in answer:

"Regina, you're going to be in charge of finding Mayhew's office and cracking and downloading his computer files on EVERYTHING relating to The Mastershot and Blackhawk International.

"Tracy, we're not going to take guns, so you provide us with alternate weapons and any other surprises you can come up with.

"Scocco, you're coming along as our driver and immediate field support. We'll need one of the 'special' cars.

"Steve, I want personality profiles prepared in two hours on The Mayhews and Sandoval Ifr for all of us. I want us to know them better than they know themselves.

"Eddie, Pasquale, you guys are flying out to Blackie tonight and make sure everything's ready. Guns, support team, planes, choppers, EVERYTHING. When I call for backup, I don't want any suprises."

Chan was nodding in grudging approval. "Not bad, McCall     not bad     "

Fortune McCall fixed Chan with eyes that had darkened from their normal bright copper color to a moody, angry dark gold.

"I'm on the company clock, Mr. Chan. Call me Blackhawk."

Part Seven

(©2000 Derrick Ferguson)

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