Tales of the Red Panda: The Crime Cabal Read Online Free PDF

was stamping a small symbol in red ink on the foreheads of
each of the unconscious toughs. It appeared to be a red paw print.
    “Whaddya think?” she said.
    “I’m not completely sold on it just yet,” the Red Panda said with a
slight grimace.
    “I think it looks cute,” she said, cocking her head.
    “That’s part of my problem with it. Besides, do we really need to sign
our work? There’s a witness.”
    Dan Tyler found his voice. “Witness?” he said. “I don’t want any
trouble–”
    His voice trailed off suddenly as the two masked heroes turned their
heads towards him in unison, their eyebrows arched.
    Tyler swallowed hard. “I-I’ll wait for the police.”
    The Flying Squirrel batted her eyelashes. “You’d better,” she said with
a smile.
    Tyler really could hear the sound of police boots approaching now. He
wouldn’t have long to wait. He saw each of the masked heroes produce what
looked almost like a long pistol with a small grappling hook emerging from the
barrel. The Red Panda fired his into the blackness. Tyler could hear it catch
far above, playing the rope out behind as it flew.
    “Let’s go,” he said.
    The Squirrel fired her Grapple Gun in the same direction, with the same
result.
    “I sure hope we didn’t miss our appointment over these two clowns,” she
said with a shake of her head.
    They each wrapped a loop around their wrists and depressed a small
catch on their Grapples. The ropes retracted quickly, pulling the guns and
their operators up into the night at great speed.
    “I don’t know,” said the Red Panda as they rose out of Dan Tyler’s
sight. “Sometimes you just have stop and smell the roses.”
    Tyler could still hear them laughing as the
policemen arrived.

Four

 
    An hour later, the Red Panda stood on a high ledge and stared down into
a black void, his brow knitted in concentration. Normally, the experimental
lenses he had fitted into his mask would cut through the darkness, but a heavy
fog had rolled in over downtown, rendering the streets below invisible even to
his eyes. He frowned. Perhaps he could work out a secondary function. Perhaps
one that would detect temperature fluctuations, like the radiant heat of a
human body. Something to work on when he had the time. He smiled grimly at the
thought. One thing he had not been overburdened with since he launched his war
on crime was excessive amounts of spare time.
    To his right, hanging almost over his shoulder, was a jutting gargoyle
in the shape of a pouncing lion. Wrapped around the lion’s neck was a thick
loop of heavy wire, within which there hung a strange device, like a miniature
winch. The Red Panda looked at it from the corner of his eye. He had checked it
twice, and was determined not to check it again. He stared down, out into the
blackness, looking for any sign, any signal, any movement. Nothing. Another
half minute passed. He glanced at the winch. Maybe he could check it one more
time.
    From far below he heard a muffled cry of surprise, suddenly cut short.
That would be the Flying Squirrel, making her dramatic entrance. There was a
moment of silence, followed by what might have been a large object, like a
body, upsetting some trash cans at great velocity. A smirk began to play about
his face, but was quickly erased by the ringing of two pistol shots, echoing up
the steel canyons to his ears.
    Instantly his hand reached for his Grapple Gun. It was already poised
to fire at the rooftop across the street when he paused, his finger tight upon
the trigger. She’d be upset if he came riding to the rescue. She hated to be
upstaged. And he knew she sometimes felt that he didn’t trust her abilities. It
wasn’t true, but he undermined that argument if he didn’t wait. He stood,
frozen, his ears straining to hear any clue over the drone of the city. At last
he could just make out the sound of a Grapple Gun firing. The echoes playing between
the buildings made it impossible to guess where it was fired from,