Pat Savage in 'Bronze Lust' Ch. 7

Cartwright smiled. "Of course, Captain Weller. Pat Savage is yours, free to do with as you wish. I am sure that she will supply you with countless hours of pleasure. And now, perhaps, we can conclude our business. You have a long voyage to begin, and I, too, have places I need to go.

"Certainly, Herr Cartwright, certainly." At a gesture from his captain, the crewman with the briefcase of money handed it to Cartwright, taking in turn the briefcase containing the plans for Dr. Murray's invention. The elderly inventor was hauled forward and handed over to the submarine crew as well.

Pat looked on the exchange with despair. No opportunity for a break had presented itself, and the proceedings were swiftly coming to a conclusion. The bronze adventuress had been surreptitiously working on her bindings while the gang's attention was focused on the discussion between the two leaders. Tied with much less care than the ropes that had bound her in the warehouse, she had loosened them to the point where she could free herself in an instant, but to what effect? Still, time was running out. The guard at her side was no longer paying careful attention to her. Pat calculated. It was a longshot, but she could probably take him out and grab his gun, then hopefully grab the plans and the doctor. Shooting Cartwright and blazing away at the crew of the sub would likely create some confusion. With luck, it would be enough that they could make it to the speedboat and make their escape. But if not, getting gunned down while trying to get away was preferable to the fate awaiting her onboard the submarine.

The atmosphere around the wharf, wrought with tension when the two groups first met, had slowly loosened as their leaders talked. The tension had particularly ebbed after Cartwright's gift of Pat Savage to the submarine commander. Treachery seemed a remote possibility. Some of Cartwright's men had begun joking among themselves, discussing what they'd be spending their money on.

Accordingly, when the warehouse exploded in a fiery blast, everyone was caught offguard.

The ground shook with the force of the explosion. Wooden debris rained down upon the warehouse grounds. One of the sedans lifted up, flipped over from the concussion. Shards of wood hurtled through the air, penetrating skin as if hammered in. Though none of his men had been in the warehouse, nearly a dozen of Cartwright's men were knocked to their feet, the rest staggered, as cries of surprise mingled with those of the wounded in the chilly air.

On the wharf, the explosion rocked the pilings, causing the elderly Doctor Murray to lose his balance and go down. The submarine crew and Cartwright's men swayed but stayed on their feet. They darted wild glances all about, searching for the source of the blast. Men from Cartwright's gang ran about aimlessly, seeking to find out what had happened.

Swift as bronzed lightning, Pat Savage seized her chance. Twisting her hands, she slipped her bonds, rope falling to the ground. She lunged at the nearest guard. A bronze fist shot out, clipped the guard in the jaw. He dropped like a stone. Pat snatched the pistol from his hand as he fell, whirled on Cartwright.

Suddenly, the night air was alive with the roar of machinegun fire. Hearing the sound, Pat brightened. Near her, Cartwright blanched, face turning white as the blood drained from it. There was no mistaking that distinctive sound. It was the roar from Doc Savage's supermachine pistols! Somehow, the Man of Bronze and his men had tracked his cousin and had launched an attack!

Smoke billowed from the burning wreckage of the warehouse, turning the night into a scene from Dante's inferno. And within the gray smoke, a ghost moved, a bronze ghost of vengeance flitting through the night. A ghost with a deadly touch!

Bronze hands flickered out like licks of flame, seeming to but touch Cartwright's men. But each man who was touched dropped instantly, as if felled by magic! Though they didn't know it, fitted over the Man of Bronze's fingers were tiny thimblelike devices of his own invention, containing needles coated with a powerful anesthetic. A slight prick was enough to put the strongest man down. Seeing the spectral figure of crookdom's greatest enemy weaving in and out of the fog, bronze face burning like a brand in the flickering light from the blazing wreckage of the warehouse, Cartwright's men screamed, firing wildly. Some threw down their weapons and ran into the night.

But the Man of Bronze was not alone. Though he disdained the use of firearms, his men had no such compunctions. Superfirers set on full auto, they pumped a hail of bullets into Cartwright's gang, dropping them like flies. Firing back blindly into the night, the gang returned fire, but they were shooting into the dark, while they themselves were outlined against the blaze of the warehouse, making them perfect targets.

Hearing the attack, Cartwright knew the wrath of the bronze man would be brutal if he learned what had befallen his cousin at his hands the previous night. He had only one chance--Pat Savage must die! Snarling a curse, he grabbed at his pistol, yanking it from its holster.

The bronze adventuress was quicker. As Cartwright raised his gun, the pistol in Pat's hand spoke. The projectile shattered Cartwright's hand. Screaming in pain, his gun dropped to the ground.

Before Pat could do more, Carlos leapt at her! Knife slashing, he screamed, "I'm gonna cut you, bitch!"

The blade licked out as Pat sprang back. The razor sharp steel ripped at her, went through the fabric of her outfit, ripped up! If not for her lightning reflexes, the young woman would have been killed right there. Her backwards leap, however, had carried her just far enough out of Carlos' reach. Though the knife tore through her coveralls, slashing them from her stomach to their top, it only scored her skin lightly. Before Carlos could press his attack, Pat's gun spoke, once, twice.

The first bullet took Carlos in the forehead, blowing him backwards. The knife flew out of his hand and sank with a "splash!" into the inky water. The second was aimed not at Carlos, but at Cartwright, who had used his remaining good hand to pick up the pistol he had dropped. The slug caught him in the chest, staggering him. Blood spurted from the wound, darkening his shirt and splashing down like warm red rain on the wooden dock. "Damn you," he croaked, before falling face down on the wharf. His body twitched once, before laying motionless.

As the battle raged, the submarine commander decided to cut his losses. He had the plans and Doctor Murray. It was a shame, but Pat Savage would have to be left behind. "Back to the boat!" shouted Captain Weller, as he turned and raced down the wharf. His men followed close behind him, one clutching the suitcase holding the plans for Doctor Murray's device. One of his other crew clutched at the elderly scientist, pulled him to his feet and began shepherding him down the dock towards their boat.

Back towards the warehouse, the battle raged on but Doc Savage and his men were rapidly overcoming the remnants of Cartwright's gang. Superfirer empty, Ham Brooks had leapt into the fray with his swordcane. The blade, coated with a powerful drug, licked among the gang members, dropping them in their tracks. The dapper attorney's usually immaculate garb was torn where bullets had ripped through, but one of Doc's bulletproof vests had kept him, as well as each of Doc's other men, from serious harm.

Colonel John Renwick's fists, big as milk pails, smashed into opponents. Renny's favorite pastime was using his gargantuan fists to knock out door panels. Cartwright's men were considerably softer than door panels. When Renny hit a man, he stayed hit...and down. The giant engineer had a dour expression on his face which, paradoxically, meant that he was enjoying himself immensely. A human bulldozer, he rumbled through the opposition, heading for the wharf. Fast as he was, however, he trailed both Doc and the remaining member of their complement, Monk.

Monk had literally gone ape. Seeing his lover nearly being sliced open on the wharf, a red mist had descended over his vision. Crazed with fury, his simian form bowled opponents over as he fought to reach Pat Savage's side. Those unfortunate to get in Monk's way wailed in agony as he twisted and tore at bodies and limbs, crushing bones with his brute strength, ripping flesh with his bare hands.

The wind, which had been blowing smoke towards the wharf, shifted suddenly, clearing the smoke between Doc's group and the wharf, giving them their first clear view of Pat as they raced towards her. Their jaws dropped in amazement.

"Holy cow!" rumbled Renny.

"Blazes!" exclaimed Monk.

"By Jove!" uttered Ham.

Only the Man of Bronze maintained his silence, his impassive face seemingly cast in bronze as he took in the sight that met him and his men. His eyes, however, betrayed his emotion, as gold flecks swirled madly in them. Though it was the bronze man's creed never to take a life when he could help it, the sight of his cousin and the state she was in was nearly enough to make him forget his oath.

Pat was sprinting along the wharf after Captain Weller and his men. In one hand she held a pistol, in her other she gripped Doc's utility vest that Cartwright had dropped when she had shot him. Her coveralls had been ripped by Carlos' knife, freeing her breasts from confinement. The coral tipped mounds, nipples hardened in the chill night air, were on display for all to see. A thin line of red scored her stomach where the blade had touched her, from which blood slowly welled forth in crimson droplets to dot her bronzed flesh. Her dishevelled hair bespoke of the treatment she had endured at the hands of Cartwright's gang. Doc Savage and his men were infuriated as they tore through the remaining opposition.

Captain Weller and most of his crew had reached the end of the wharf, leaping into the waiting boat. Only the crew member bringing Dr. Murray along remained on the wharf. The elderly scientist, desperate to avoid his fate, had been struggling the entire way, slowing the crewman down. Though she was rapidly closing the gap between them, Pat realized as she ran that she wouldn't reach them in time, that Dr. Murray would be loaded into the boat before she could get to him.

On the fly her gunhand came up. Scarce seeming to aim, her pistol cracked out its message of death. An excellent marksman, Pat's aim was true. A blistering slug slammed into the back of the crewman. Spinning around from the impact of the hot lead, he lost his grip on the old scientist and pirouetted off the dock, arms flailing, splashing loudly into the cold water. Exhausted, Dr. Murray fell gasping on the wood planks.

One of the sub's crew made to clamber back onto the dock, but was stopped by a command from Captain Weller. "No!" the U-boat's commander shouted. "Leave him! We have the plans, that's all we need! The Fatherland's scientists can work with those! Go, go! Macht schnell!"

The small boat shot away from the dock, heading swiftly for the submarine. A few of the crew members turned their firearms on the dock, while a machinegun was unlimbered on the sub. A hail of lead flew at Pat. Bullets whizzed all around her. The submarine's gunner tried to mow down Doc Savage and his men. Buzzing lead kicked up dirt all around them, forcing them to dive for cover.

Shouting at Dr. Murray to stay down, Pat leapt off the dock and dove into the bay. Her body cut the cold water cleanly, sliding through it like a mermaid. A few powerful strokes underwater brought her to the side of the speedboat, still tied to the wharf. Grasping the rail, she pulled herself up and over, into the boat. She had dropped her gun when she had hit the water, but her other hand still grasped the utility vest. Arising drenched and dripping from the bottom of the boat, she sprang for the controls, kicked the engine into life.

At the submarine, Captain Weller and his men had swiftly boarded and clambered below decks. The hatch clanged shut behind them, and the vessel turned, moving towards the open sea. The waters here were too shallow to take the sub down, but it was not far to deeper water, where it could safely submerge.

Pat grimaced. If the submarine escaped, her rescue of Dr. Murray would be of little value to the world. Though his life had been saved, his invention, capable of raining death and destruction upon thousands, would be in the hands of those who would use it without hesitation. The submarine must be stopped at all costs!

The bronze adventuress gunned the engine. The speedboat sprang forward as if it were a wild bronco, maddened by confinement. The rope holding it to the wharf snapped taut. With a sharp splintering, that part of the boat's rail to which the line was tied gave way as the boat thundered for the open water. Opening up the throttle, Pat gave chase to the U-boat.

Her boat bounced up and down on the waves, cresting them and launching into the air before splashing down, sending foam spraying everywhere. Pat, still soaked from her swim, was sprayed by mist as she fairly flew after the escaping submarine. The prow of the boat sliced through the water leaving an angry wake, swells slapping into the shore.

Standing in the boat, Pat looked like a bronzed goddess, like a vengeful Diana on the hunt. Her glistening breasts, crimson nipples hard as diamonds, heaved with emotion and with the up and down motion of the boat. Her wet bronze hair flew wildly in the wind, bespecked with ocean foam, seemingly imbued with a life of its own as it cracked whiplike around her face. Cold water sprayed in sheets over her body, drenching her and her clothing, beading on her determined face before being swept back and away by the wind created by her mad chase.

As she sped towards the escaping submarine, Pat swiftly donned the utility vest. Engine throbbing, the boat shot along the waves towards its quarry, steadily closing the gap. Closer and closer she drew to the sub, but Pat saw with consternation that the vessel was beginning to submerge. It was going to be tight, very tight.

Fighting the chop caused by the diving vessel, Pat expertly piloted the speeding boat alongside the submarine, which by now had nearly sunk beneath the waves completely. Only the conning tower remained above water, and that too was disappearing rapidly.

Matching velocity with the U-boat, Pat suddenly relinquished the controls of the boat and hurled herself overboard! Arms outstretched, she sailed through the air towards the submarine! A bronze hand lashed out, grasped for the railing of the conning tower. She grabbed it...but her grip slipped on the slick metal and she slid backwards towards the stern of the sub. Pat was frantic--she was going to get swept away from the sub!

Flailing around with her other hand, scrambling for purchase, she lunged forward. Her fingers brushed the rail, closed on it in a viselike grip, mere seconds before the tower sank completely beneath the surface of the bay. Desperately holding onto the submarine, the bronze adventuress was dragged under the water. Tendrils of silken hair floated momentarily on the crest of a wave before vanishing from sight.

Fifteen seconds passed, thirty. Only a slight ripple in the surface of the water betrayed the sub's passage as it headed out towards open sea, bearing its cargo of death.

More time passed. Over a minute had now gone by since Pat Savage had been pulled beneath the cold waves, but the smooth surface of the bay remained unbroken. Nothing--no one--had surfaced in that time.

Suddenly, the night air was split with a tremendous explosion! Water geysered up in a tower, beginning deep in the depths, reaching for the sky before falling back to earth and smashing into the bay with a thunderous crash. Ocean foam cascaded against the shore, slapping out an angry rhythm.

On the heels of the first blast came a second! A tremendous fountain of water gushed forth! The water roiled like a creature mortally wounded, thrashing about in the throes of death. The stench of oil filled the clean night air as thousands of gallons were released into the water!

From the shore, Monk, Ham and Renny looked on aghast as they witnessed the blasts. Monk let out a scream of anguish, ripped from his guts, while his companions stared, whitefaced, in silence at the scene unfolding before them in the bay. Standing slightly behind them, the elder Doctor Murray bowed his head as he thought of the young woman who had saved him and risked her life to stop his invention from falling into the wrong hands. Pat and the sub had passed out of range of the starlight during her chase. With sinking hearts they witnessed the explosions and their aftermath. It seemed unlikely that Pat could have withstood their fury and survived.

A whirring sound above them caused them to look up. Circling overhead was the autogyro Pat had taken from Doc's warehouse! The Man of Bronze was at the controls, his face grim. While Pat had given chase to the submarine, Doc had raced back alone for the autogyro, moving faster than seemed humanly possible. Several track records would have been shattered had he been timed during his frantic dash to the plane.

A rope ladder hung swaying down from the open door of the autogyro. The bronze man motioned at the ladder to his men. Agile as a chimpanzee, Monk leapt for it, wrapped his arms and legs in it. Secure, he shouted up at his leader. Though the wind carried his words away, Doc understood. Pointing the plane away from shore, he sped over the waves, flying swiftly to the location of the dual blasts!

They reached the site of the explosions. A powerful searchlight mounted on the bottom of the autogyro stabbed through the darkness. The surface of the water was littered with oil and debris bobbing on the waves. It was clear that, somehow, Pat had managed to destroy the U-boat. Monk and Doc couldn't tell, however, if her efforts had also led to her own destruction.

Circling in ever widening arcs over the blast area, the eagle eyes of Doc Savage spotted a larger piece of wreckage a short distance off. Nudging the controls, he sent the plane swooping towards it. As it approached its target, the glare of the spotlight revealed the speedboat. Though the blasts had capsized it, the boat still floated on the surface of the water.

And clinging to the side of the boat, waving at them weakly, was Pat Savage!

Though the roar of the autogyro drowned him out, on the rope ladder below Monk whooped for joy as he spotted her. Dangling from the flying craft, the ladder swayed from side to side as Monk swung with exhuberance. In the cabin of the autogyro, the bronze man smiled broadly. Though there were many who felt that the Man of Bronze was emotionless--and indeed he disliked showing open emotion--they would have changed their view if they could have seen him then, relief at finding his cousin alive sweeping over his usually impassive face.

Slowing the plane as much as possible, Doc sent the autogyro spiraling down towards the makeshift lifeboat. Below on the ladder, Monk hooked his legs in the rungs, before letting go with his hands and hanging suspended downward. Under the deft control of the Man of Bronze, the plane approached the bobbing boat. As the ladder passed alongside Pat, she thrust an arm out, reaching for her lover. Monk grabbed her hand in his. In a prodigious display of strength, he swung up, lifting the soaked woman out of the water. As he reached an upright position, he brought her body in to the ladder, allowing Pat to grasp the rope while her feet found purchase. Holding the exhausted young woman securely against him, Monk glanced up at Doc Savage, nodded. Doc nodded back. The autogyro described a lazy loop as it turned from the open sea and headed back to shore, its twin passenger cargo dangling beneath it in the starlight.