Tom Gentry peers out the window. "Mail call," he announces suddenly.

Jim Anthony peers up from the papers he had been signing, glad of the distraction from the tedious business aspects of running a newspaper. "Anything interesting?" has enquires.

Tom Gentry points out the large bay window from the living room, "Incoming," he says, and Jim Anthony quickly joins him. He sees the canister which has been airdropped by the plane which recedes into the horizon, floating down gently as its parachute releases.

Jim Anthony raises an eyebrow. "Lando's meditating in the study. Wake him up, and let's see what the stork's brought us."

Later, as the three men approach the large canister, square and grey and about the size of a casket, Lando passes his hands over it, humming softly to himself. "I'm picking up definite life signs, Jim."

Tom Gentry draws his pistol from his arm holster. "Pretty funny way of dropping in for a visit ... "

Jim Anthony nods, covering the canister with his own pistol. "Care to do the honors, Lando?"

Lando gestures magically over the object, "Yadevlossi!" he chants.

As the canister evaporates, it reveals its cargo: a young woman in a skirt and sweater, her pixie haircut adorned with a beret, clutching an oxygen tank. The youth and beauty of her face in striking contrast to her piercing, intelligent eyes. She blinks at the light as her vision adjusts, and then focuses on Jim Anthony. "Jacques," she says, her voice heavy with relief, "ah, I made it."

Jim Anthony gapes in surprise, "Marie? My God, I haven't seen you since the Border Napoleon case ... never mind that. What happened? Why have you come all this way?" He leans down, wrapping his arms around the girl.

Mlle. Marie releases a sigh of relief, almost a sob, as she sinks into his arms, "It's over Jacques, it's all over, we've been betrayed."

Later, the four crusaders gather in Jim Anthony's study. Marie wrinkles her nose, setting down the glass from which she had been drinking. "This California wine is so crude, Jacques, I'm surprised at you."

Jim Anthony sighs. "Marie, you said you were betrayed? By whom? I know your movement is operating under tough times, but I've never heard you sound so hopeless."

Marie picks up her glass from the side table on which she'd set it, and empties it in a single swallow. She makes a face, but her features soon return to their impenetrable repose and she looks at Jim Anthony for a long while.

"Before the Nazis marched on Paris," she inhales deeply, "there were those among us who, doubtless inspired by the American example, took it on themselves to act as mysterymen. They operated on the fringes of the law, but the common people loved them. Even after the invasion, many of us looked to them for inspiration. But ... something changed." She stares into the emptied glass, swirling the few remaining drops by tilting the crystel to and fro. "Within the past month, they have sworn allegiance to Vichy, forming a sort of ... Super-Milice. This has been not only ... what is the word ... demoralising ... but many of them have special skills which have been devastating to our forces."

Lando narrows his eyes, keeping his own counsel. "Which is why you contacted us."

Marie nods, "I knew my old friend Jacques had contacts. Another ... friend of mine ... an English flyer named Pennyworth ... smuggled me out and we arranged passage here."

Jim Anthony looks at Lando, "I think we should be able to take it from here. You can wave your hands and do some magic and get us over there quickly enough?"

Lando shakes his head. "It's not that simple I'm afraid. Hitler has erected a shield of sorts around most of occupied Europe. Anyone with any affinity to magic, including me, is unable to enter the area. The consequences could be devastating."

Jim Anthony grunts, "Any affinity? So even the Gay Ghost and Wonder Girl couldn't go along with us?"

Tom Gentry looks thoughtful for a moment, "I know just who to call."

The trio of planes soar over the French countryside. Jim Anthony radios his allies. "The estate of the Count de Pleumain is beneath us ... that's what Marie said they were using as a home base. Land in a triangle formation surrounding the house, we've got them in a pincer." He waits for the 'Roger that,' 'Okay' and turns to the Flying Fox. "Take us down, Rex." The Lady in Evening Clothes turns to Jim Anthony, "This Marie meant a lot to you, didn't she?" He shrugs and stares out the window. "She's far too young. Anyway, our lives are worlds apart."

Aboard the Guardian Angel's plane, Hop Harrigan turns back to his companions. "Are you feeling all right back there?" Neptune Perkins nods, "I don't feel any urge to heil Hitler, if that's what you mean." Minuteman glances at him, "Well, none of us knew how the Spear of Destiny would hit someone with Vril in his blood, but I'm glad you're still on our team."

'Jenny' races ahead of the others to land on the far side of the castle, out of immediate view. Captain X, the King, the Witch, and the Bolt depart. "We'll fan out," says the King, "watch the perimeters, make sure Jim Anthony's team or the 'teen titans' don't get ambushed."

The costumed quartet separates, the Witch heading directly towards the castle on the estate. She circles in the darkness, the blackness of her outfit blending into the surroundings as she scans for vulnerable areas of entry. Her search is interrupted by a short, slightly heavy-set man, with black hair, a moustache curled up at the edges, a neat goatee, and round-framed glasses. He is wearing a white tuxedo in an antiquated style, looking as if it was designed for the stage. "Ah, you must be one of the Americans we were told to expect."

The Witch narrows her eyes, gun drawn. "You knew were coming?"

The man chuckles softly, slowly removing an object from his inside pocket. He does so slowly, so the Witch understands he is not armed. He glances at the large gold pocketwatch as if checking the time. "Of course," he says. "Some among our number are as talented in the arts of espionage as your own. I would have recognised the Americanness of your features, although they pale compared to Wonder Woman whom I've encountered once before. She's not truly an American though, is she?"

The Witch shakes her head as if to clear it, at the unexpected mention of her friend's mentor. "You've met Wonder Woman? Who are you anyway?"

The man lifts the pocket watch into the air, twirling it so the light reflected off a nearby lantern reflects into the Witch's face. "Yes, on my American tour, before the exigencies of the War forced me to leave the life of the stage. My name is Gontran de Kergaz, although you may call me Professor Hypno."

Elsewhere ... as Captain X makes his way through the underbrush surrounding the castle, he suddenly stops short as a lit cigarette is tossed into his path. He whirls around, gun drawn, only to find it shot out of his hands. He snarls as he beholds a suave, polished, handsome man with a hairline moustache and a flashing smile. The man is dressed in a black military jacket and jodhpurs, and a yellow scarf.

"Sacre bleu," the man says, "is zat outfeet intended for espionage? A blind man would zee it a mile away. And zat ludicrous plane, 'Jeeny' you call 'er? All electrical gadgeetz, nothing like a real plane at all ... "

Captain X sneers, "If it isn't Andre Blanc-Dumont, the froggie camp follower turned fascist. I'd hoped to take down your prancing leather queen of a boss one of these days, but you'll do just as well."

The man known as Andre's smile does not falter as he leaps for Captain X's throat, and the two men grapple in the dust.

Elsewhere ... the Bolt looks upwards to see a red-clad figure hurtling through the air. "That can't be good," he mutters to himself, "that's where the 'teen titans' set down ... it's all going pear-shaped."

He arrives to find the costumed trio confronting a colorfully dressed pair. The first is a tall man in a red bodysuit with short sleeves, on the chest of which is an inverted yellow triangle with a red circle inside it. He wears a red cowl, and his steely-blue eyes are visible through his black domino mask. The rest of the uniform consists of red gloves, a red belt with a yellow buckle, and a red cape with a blue lining. At his hip is a holster which contains a police-issue revolver. Tall and thin, the second man's skin is a powder blue, and his hair is white, standing straight up. His eyes are pure white, recessed deep into his head, cast in shadows. His costume consists of a rich blue tunic and trunks, with a wide brown belt. He wears red gauntlets, and thigh boots, pointed at the top, and a red cape. In his chest is a large white Cross of Lorraine.

The Bolt arms himself, scoping out the situation. His mind is made up as he sees Minuteman charging into the red-clad man, the two meeting with a crash as like strength meets like. Guardian Angel and Neptune Perkins attempt to get the best of the young man with the powder-blue skin, only to find themselves passing through him as if he were a phantasm, while seconds later his solid fists strike at them. He curses, seeing his arrows repelled by invulnerability or rendered ineffective by intangibility, and ponders his next strategy.

Elsewhere ... the King meets up with Jim Anthony, Flying Fox, and the Lady in Evening Clothes as they approach the castle. "All quiet?" he enquires.

Jim Anthony nods, "Quieter than we expected. And the Witch ought to have been here already to meet us."

The King furrows his brow worriedly. "She's a professional, I'm sure she can take care of herself."

The Lady in Evening Clothes quirks a smile, "I was just remembering the first time she and I met socially, we encountered a French-accented villain named Glue Gun Gus ... a very annoying man. I've been halfway expecting to see him around every corner."

The Flying Fox's words are interrupted as Jim Anthony, whose heightened senses having noted a tell-tale glint of metal in the horizon, lunges forward, tackling his teammates to the ground. A blast of energy from a window at the top of the castle barely misses the King.

"They disintegrated my hat!" he complains. "That was a good hat!"

The Flying Fox scowls, "I recognise that effect ... "

They see a lean, elegant man with a pencil-thin mustache and a tux. His black hair is slicked back, and he walks with a slight swagger and a know-it-all sneer which mars his otherwise impeccably handsome face. Slung around his right shoulder by a strap is a large, futuristic-looking weapon. "As well you should, Monsieur Renard, and I assure you our encounter will end differently this time. I will erase you as I did that foolish Charles Maire"

"Duc D'Orterre," gasps Flying Fox, "You're supposed to be dead."

The man only laughs, aiming another blast at the scattering Crime Crusaders. "Duc D'Orterre ... is everywhere!"

As the Crusaders run for cover, they find themselves intercepted by an individual whose purple musketeer uniform fails to conceal the heavy muscling of a very powerful, intimidating man. The uniform is ornately brocaded with white, and above the domino mask which conceals his features is a large musketeer's hat. In his gloved hands he carries an epee, which he manipulates as if it were a part of his body. From behind, a hail of arrows whirl around them, aimed by a spry figure garbed from head to toe in a black long-sleeved shirt and tights, a beret, and black riding boots. Black gloves protect his hands, and his black domino mask mysteriously reveals no pupils.

"Oh hell," says the Lady in Evening Clothes, staring at the arrow which is sticking out of the muzzle of her gas-rifle, "sometimes I absolutely hate this job." As she struggles to remove the blockage, Flying Fox mutters, "Cover me, I'm going after D'Orterre."

Jim Anthony fires at D'Orterre's location, "Cover you?" he asks, as the Flying Fox breaks and runs to the side of the castle, unlooping his foxrope from around his belt and tossing the small metallic foxhead grapplehook to latch into a barred window frame. Jim Anthony's aim is thrown off by a sudden strike of metal in his forearm, he shouts in surprise as he sees the musketeer's sword drawn back, "That will be enough of that," says the masked man. Jim Anthony sees the King returning fire to the archer, and tosses his gun to the Lady in Evening Clothes. "Cover him," he says, nodding to the Flying Fox climbing the wall as he turns to face his attacker.

"Cover him?" she says incredulously, attempting to fire approximately in D'Orterre's direction and not to kill her teammate.

While the King and the archer play a deadly game of tag, James Anthony faces off against the musketeer, narrowly evading further strikes from the epee. The Flying Fox finally reaches his windowsill, and with an acrobatic leap hurls himself onto the castle rooftop to face down D'Orterre. "It's time to end this," he says.

D'Orterre smiles, "My feelings exactly," as a dart strikes the Flying Fox in his neck. He doesn't have time to face the new attacker before he feels the effects of the drug on the dart's pointed tip, and falls to the ground.

Jim Anthony, bleeding from numerous slashes, his shirt torn to ribbons, finally manages to grab hold of the musketeer's wrist. He pulls his opponent to him, landing a firm strike to the jaw. Glancing over at the King and the Lady in Evening Clothes, he barely notices the grenade which lands near him, and reacts too slow before the explosion of sleeping gas strikes down the trio of Crime Crusaders.

The Witch strides over to the King, leaning down to kiss him as he mutters, "Ephelba?" She smiles down as the gas's full effects are felt, "Sleep tight handsome, it'll all be over soon."

The musketeer leans back against the wall of the ancient dungeon as he watches the Witch chain the rest of her companions to the various torture implements arrayed in the room. She lingers over the King fondly, kissing him again as she chains his unconscious body to the stocks. "All the times I offered to have you join me, and you always turned me down. I don't know if you'll get another chance, handsome." She kisses his cheek again.

The archer turns towards his companion in red. "Marc?" he enquires, "you're not looking well."

The man closes the door of the mummy's case, the light glinting off the interior spikes as he does so, and glances at the polished bronze surface. His reflection looks pale and exhausted. He rubs his temples, "It's nothing." He slips off his cloak and walks over to the musketeer, taking a seat near the other man, landing heavily as if exhausted.

As the Crime Crusaders stir, the blue-skinned man pulls a cord by the entrance door, and finally Professor Hypno arrives. "Welcome my friends, I trust you'll be here for a long stay. There is much I want to learn from you."

Jim Anthony barks a quick laugh from his stocks. "Bring it on," he says fiercely.

Captain X, attached by his extremities to the wall, attempts to spit at Hypno. "That you would betray your country like this, it's disgusting."

Flying Fox nods, "And subvert patriots such as Le Fantôme, Le Mousquetaire, and the Steel Phantom to your cause ... how did you do it?"

Professor Hypno pfahs, "Joseph Darnand taught me to see the weaknesses in the Third Republic. I saw that France needed a strong government to lead it, and the Germans knew how to establish one. When the war is over, Darnand and Doriot and I, and other leaders of our cause, will be the ones holding this country. 'Die for Danzig?' indeed! And .. and patriots ... these costumed vigilantes? I am sure madmen such as yourselves would see them as admirable, but they have never stood for the rule of law. Whatever they may call themselves ... Jean-Marc DeVillars, Marc Yordi, Olivier Reine ... they are all grandchildren of the awful Fantomas, the worst criminal of the last century. The very names they use call on his heritage! My father opposed their family, and I will do my best to bring them under my will using the hypnotic powers gifted to me!"

Minuteman nods from the torture seat he is strapped down on, "I was hoping you'd say something like that." Swallowing the Miraclo pill he had tucked inside his cheek, he broke free of his bonds.

Phantasmo smirks, "Do you want to exhaust yourself on me again?" He slams his fist into Minuteman's gut, his moment of solidity interrupted by a blow from behind as the Steel Phantom draws the Musketeer's sword from its sheath before the man can react. "Sorry cousin," the man says to the fallen teenager. Whirling around like a dervish, covering his eyes and face with his cape, he thrusts the sword through his cape and into Professor Hypno's heart. As he withdraws the blade, the bloody red sword seems almost surrounded by a pair of blue wings as his cape flutters around it, in stark contrast to the bright white background of Professor Hypno's suit.

As Andre draws his pistol and Le Fantôme readies an arrow, the Steel Phantom is upon them, his vitamin and solar-induced speed and strength easily felling his remaining allies. Minuteman approached the Witch as she attempts to fade into the shadows, "This hurts me more than it does you," he says to his teammate as he takes her out.

Standing tall amongst the wreckage, the two champions from different nations free the remaining Crime Crusaders. The King rubs his wrists and glares at Minuteman, "Was that quite necessary?" nodding at his fallen partner.

Minuteman sighs, "I'm sorry," as the King approaches the woman, "but we couldn't risk having her escape while still under Hypno's influence. I guess he made her think she was still in her old criminal days. She ... she ought to be better when she wakes up."

Jim Anthony approaches the Steel Phantom, "Thank you for your help. What turned you around?"

The Steel Phantom looks rueful, "It was your young friend Minuteman."

Minuteman grins abashedly. "From what Marie told us, and things he let slip when we were fighting, it sounded like he gained his strength from something like the Miraclo that I use. I know from what Hourman told me that you should never double up on a dose of the power pill ... after Phantasmo left to help Andre take out Captain X, I caught the Steel Phantom by surprise by forcing a Miraclo pill down his throat ... it was pretty ugly."

The Bolt feels the back of his skull. "Yeah, well, I wish you'd thought of the idea earlier ... Guardian Angel and Neptune Perkins and I are pretty much the worse for wear," he complains. The Steel Phantom nods, "The drugstore proprietor Dr. Allemanz, who supplies me with the source of my powers, must be familiar with your Hourman's research ... or else two great minds have reached the same conclusions. It was a painful experience I'd not choose to repeat, but the shock was enough to free me from Professor Hypno's influence, and we devised a plan."

The Lady in Evening Clothes squeezes Minuteman's arm as the boy blushes, "A very clever one, too."

Jim Anthony says, "Indeed. I will contact Marie ... the Super-Milice is no more."

THE END