# 216
The All-Star Legion of America in "The Secret Emperor, Part Six"
By Mikel Midnight (suggested by a plot from Dashiell Hammett)

A golden bubble explodes, and at midnight all the agents gather on the rooftop of the Sheth building, where Capital Whispers has its offices.

Captain Tootsie whispers, "You're certain you want to accompany us on this, Shane?"

Ted Shane nods. "The ASLA have always done right be me in the past, and I don't like what Doucas has been up to. Besides, with the boys absent, you're shorthanded." He checks his gun. "Even if I'm not a flying boy."

Volto smiles, "You don't have to fly, with me around."

'U.S.' Royal looks uneasy as he and the others slip on thin gloves. "So everyone is prepared for some basic breaking and entering? I must say none of this vigilantism feels right to me."

R.C. shrugs, "Most of the rest of us never had deputy status or even detective licenses, Royal ... we've always been vigilantes."

"Don't be distracted," Captain Tootsie says. "We don't know how many pies Doucas might have his fingers in, but we're after information on Dolliard, Jarboe, Haldorn, or Rushton, or anything that connects him to known criminals like Power and Narsty."

Ted Shane reaches into his left jacket pocket to pull out a lockpick. He leans down and manipulates it into the door which leads up to the ceiling hatch, finally releasing it with a quiet but audible click. He slides the door and opens it quietly, glancing up at Captain Tootsie.

"Capital Whispers is in the set of suites marked 1250," Captain Tootsie says. "Let's go."

As the others traverse the stairwell, 'U.S.' Royal picks up his bicycle and carries it awkwardly down the flight of steps, bringing up the rear. Flashlights in hand, they make their way to the scandal sheet's central offices.

R.C. and 'U.S.' Royal maneuver around the rooms, closing blinds and curtains to minimise outside exposure as the legionnaires set to work.

Ted Shane's eyes catch a glare of red out of the thin strip of visibility to the side of one of the closed blinds. "Captain, we have visitors."

Captain Tootsie glances outside. "Hootin' zoots, they were fast. Must have been some sort of silent alarm we didn't catch."

Lt. Pollock's voice booms out through a megaphone. "All-Star Legion! Don't try to fool us, we know you're in there. I don't know what turned you against the law, but you're under arrest for breaking & entering. Come out with your hands up!"

Captain Tootsie glances at his teammates. "Volto, get Shane out of here."

Ted Shane bristles. "Don't condescend to me, Captain. I got into this with you, and I'm not going to let Doucas lock you away without trying to do something about it."

"You're an outside contractor, Shane." Captain Tootsie waves his hand dismissively at him, and without another word, Volto encases Ted Shane inside a golden bubble.

'U.S.' Royal says, "Cap, the police will see Shane leaving ... even if we surrender they'll know something's up."

Captain Tootsie nods thoughtfully. "Good point. Volto, can you set that thing on auto-pilot? Let's go provide a distraction."

The quartet maneuvers their way to the front door, as Captain Tootsie bites down on one of the chocolatey candies which give him an added boost of energy. "3 ... 2 ... 1 ... go!" he says and the All-Star Legion take the offensive. The battle rages in a single a four-way intersection, and the All-Star Legion of America find themselves struggling against the representatives of the law they had all sworn to protect. The streetlights cast long shadows against the black asphalt, their dim white chiaroscuros punctuated by green street signs and the glare of red from the police cars.

Captain Tootsie runs straight for the forefront police car. Lt. Pollock backs up in shock as the energized mystery man braces his shoulder and hands against the automobile, up-ending it with a howl and turning it on its side.

Volto glances upwards to see the golden bubble departing from the top of the Sheth building, and almost smiles as a sweep of his left hand repels the barrage of bullets which assail the team.

R.C. slams a baseball through two windows of a police car. As the police duck to avoid to shattering glass, he follows up behind it, bounding atop the hood and rolling over it, slamming at their gun hands with his bat.

'U.S.' Royal jets forward, swiveling back onto his rear wheels and then using his jets to propel him over the line of police cars, harassing them from behind, punching and kicking furiously.

Eventually the uproar of crashes, crunches, gunshots, and the shouts of men are drowned out by sirens as official reinforcements arrive, breaking into the cacophony of violence. A directed shot from one of the newcomers strikes one of 'U.S.' Royal's jet-propulsion units, and he spins out of control, colliding with a parked police car. R.C. is, likewise, soon overpowered. A half-dozen men surround Captain Tootsie, guns drawn, and Lt. Pollock shouts over the din, "Stand down!"

Captain Tootsie eyes his teammates, and nods to Volto, who lowers his hands. The four men are soon handcuffed. Captain Tootsie strains against the cuffs momentarily, knowing he could break his way free, but then sighs and slumps in resignation. They are forced into the back seats of squad cars and driven to police headquarters.

A plump man, whose ivory skin and flame-red tie stand out in the darkness as they are illumined by the streetlights, emerges into the intersection. He shakes his head and a "tsk" escapes his lips.

Later, the team is broken up into separate cells as they await arraignment. Sgt. Roy Dunhill walks through the unornamented hallways and glares at them. Captain Tootsie glances up from where he had been seated in cell. "Hello, Roy."

"Captain," he says tersely, and then sighs. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a cigar and box of matches, striking a blaze against a wall and then lighting his cigar. "What the blazes is going on? You know people are accusing the lot of you of being lunatics. Vigilantism, criminal trespass, breaking and entering, slander ... a lot of voices are clamoring to get the All-Star Legion locked up permanently."

Captain Tootsie crooks a cynical smile. "Thanks for the advice, Roy." He leans back, folding his hands behind his neck and closes his eyes.

Sgt. Dunhill points at Captain Tootsie, "Don't shut me out, you ... oh what's the use." He shakes his head and then swivels on his heel to return to his desk.

After he leaves, R.C. murmurs, just loud enough to be heard, "We sticking around for this, Captain?"

Captain Tootsie opens his eyes and looks around. "No. Volto, can you do anything?"

Volto shakes his head. "Sorry, Captain. My powers of magnetic attraction and repulsion are insufficient to break through these secured iron bars ... and it has been too long since I have eaten any cereal grains for them to be recharged to their peak."

'U.S.' Royal says, "There must be something we can use. Oh ... Captain ... it looks like Roy left us a present."

Captain Tootsie walks over to the bars and stares into the space Sgt. Roy Dunhill had been occupying, and then grins wryly. In the corner is a dropped box of matches. "Hootin' zoots, maybe we can fake them out. Volto ... can you use your powers to light those matches?"

"I've ... never done any thing like that ... although magnetism and electricity are all related ... maybe ... " Slowly, he extends first his right hand, then his left, and aims both at the box of matches. It begins to whirl in place, caught between opposing forces, and Volto narrows his eyes as he struggles to maintain equal balance. Eventually, increasing internal friction causes the matches to ignite. Volto lowers his hands, exhausted.

Captain Tootsie laughs, and reaches down the threadbare mattress in his cell, picking up the flat pillow and forcing it through the bars, tossing it on the flames. Eventually, it begins to spread to the walls.

The Legionnaires remain silent, watching the fire slowly begin to spread out of control. Panicked shouts are soon heard from other prisoners in the facility. After a minute, a squad of guards enter the floor, some armed, some carrying fire gear. As fire extinguishers are aimed at the blaze, the armed guards arrange into formation and open the prisoners' doors. "Evacuate! Everyone out orderly - now!"

As the Legionnaires are released into the exercise field, Volto encases them in a golden bubble and the team ascends skyward. Bullets and curses follow from the ground, equally ineffective.

R.C. turns at Captain Tootsie. "Where to, boss?"

Captain Tootsie looks askance at his teammates. "Back to Hoboken ... the Secret Legion headquarters is still uncompromised, so far as we know. I doubt we can stay there for long, but we have to regroup."

Volto nods silently, and directs the bubble along a familiar path. Finally, they arrive deep in the wooded area and locate the camouflaged house. The bubble explodes silently, and the four men walk in, to see a trio of familiar faces. "Bazooka? Thom McAn? H? What are you three doing here?" Captain Tootsie enquires with a furrowed brow.

H says, "       "

"We saw you on television," Bazooka says. "We gambled you'd head back here ... we sent Rollo and the others back home."

'U.S.' Royal nods, "That was the right thing to do. But we have to clear out here ourselves."

Captain Tootsie turns to the boys, "We can't be seen in public anymore. We have to go undercover. Do Marybelle and Sweetie have any hair dye here?"

The boys look at one another. "Uhn," Bazooka says, "some ... but it's hideous stuff just for playacting, it's not ... "

"That'll do," Captain Tootsie says, "we ... " He is interrupted by the sound of a crash, and the house shakes as if it is contained within an earthquake. "Hootin' zoots, what was that?"

R.C. peers out the window, and then turns back at his teammates. "You guys gotta see this ... "

'U.S.' Royal joins his teammate, and his face pales. Outside the Secret Legion headquarter, a small army of hideous figures, eight feet in height, with flowing black hair and glowing eyes, surround the house, grabbing hold of the foundation and walls and attempting to destroy the structure with their bare hands. "Aeaea!" "Aeaea!" "Aeaea!"

"Hootin' zoots," Captain Tootsie says quietly.

Thom McAn calls to his impish companion, "H, I need my bazooka shoes!"

H says, "       " as a pair of futuristic footwear appear on the boy's feet.

R.C. says, "You kids, get out of here ... "

"No," says Thom McAn. "That's the other thing we came here to tell you. They were created by Dr. Power with the same technology he used to create his bulletproof men. That word they're trying to say ... his name for them ... it's Antaeus. They're only powerful when they're in contact with the ground ... that's how we were able to defeat the first one."

Bazooka nods, "We can do this, Captain."

Captain Tootsie looks at the other men in the room, unable to keep the stress from his features. "Make it so."

In the dim light, as dawn began to break over the New Jersey woods, six young men charge into battle against a foe from legend.

Volto, Bazooka, and Thom McAn run interference, using powered flight or magnetic repulsion to send the monsters into the air. Captain Tootsie, 'U.S.' Royal, and R.C. move in quickly, taking advantage of their foes' weakened states. Volto additionally encases stray monsters in golden bubbles when his teammates are in the clear.

R.C.'s baseball bat is slick with ichorous blood. "We're shaking things up ... send down another one, Bazooka!"

Bazooka sweeps down, but success makes him careless and one of the creatures grabs him by the face, thumb sinking into the boy's eye socket. The boy screams, shrill and horrified.

Captain Tootsie swallows another chocolatey candy and grabs hold of the monster's hand, all his strength focused on prying open the vicious grip. Finally, he succeeds, and Thom McAn rockets the monster into the sky. Volto left hand repels it higher and higher, until finally it plummets into the distance.

Bazooka sobs out, "I can't see!"

Captain Tootsie cradles Bazooka in his arms. "Thom," he says as the other boy returns, "Get him to a hospital. Volto will help us mop up the rest."

Later, the All-Star Legion stand amidst an army of hideous bodies, translucent yellowish skin gleaming as the sun burns off the morning fog. 'U.S.' Royal sinks to his knees. "Captain? Captain, what next?"

Captain Tootsie looks around him at the carnage. "I don't know."

TO BE CONTINUED ...