Previously: After Metalord was beaten by the Cobalt Czar, Twain attempted to help an unconscious Yi Fan, when the Czar yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?” And now…
“I’m trying to help her,” Twain said.
“Wait.” The Czar’s eyes narrowed. “I know you. The American, da? The one who escaped. Why would you come back?”
“I brought you Digger,” Twain said. “You said you hated him.”
The Czar stopped and looked at Twain warily. “I do. The Chinese man said he brought Digger.”
“The Chinese man tried to kill you,” Twain countered.
“True enough.” The Czar looked around. “So where is he?”
Twain laid Yi Fan gently down and stood. “I’ll show you.”
A few moments later, they both stood over Digger’s unconscious body. “That can’t be him,” the Czar said. “Where are the things on his hands?”
“He lost them,” Twain said. “Believe me, that’s him. He’ll tell you so himself, when he wakes up.”
“Does he always dress like that?” the Czar asked, eyeing the torn Chinese dress.
“Oh yeah,” Twain said. “You wouldn’t believe the twisted stuff in this guy’s closet.”
“And he was beaten by Ghost Dragon.” The Czar sounded let down.
“By me,” Twain said.
“Disappointing,” the Czar said. “I had hoped for more of a challenge.”
“Everyone’s disappointed when they meet him in person,” Twain said.
The Czar looked at Twain. “I still don’t understand. You escaped. Why risk coming back here, even with a prize?”
[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]She was wearing the kind of uniform you only saw in 60’s movies or gag comics in men’s magazines: frilly apron, short skirt, thigh-high stockings, little white hat with a red cross on it. No actual nurses dressed like that anymore, if they ever really had…[/blockquote]“You’re the most powerful man in the world,” Twain said. “What man in his right mind would want you for an enemy?”
“I understand,” the Czar said. “And I suppose I owe you some kind of thanks for bringing him here.”
The Czar’s hand shot out and a blunt, blue finger thumped hard against Twain’s temple. Twain’s eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground.
“Thanks,” said the Czar.
Digger awoke in a room with pastel blue walls and curtains the color of coral. He tried to sit up, but found himself strapped to a bed, an I.V. needle stuck in his arm and a bandage wrapped around his head. Some kind of emergency buzzer lay on the mattress next to his right hand. He snagged the cord with a finger and pushed the button.
A few moments later, a nurse came through the doorway: blonde, mid-20’s, very pretty. “Good afternoon,” she said with an Australian accent and a dazzling smile.
“Where am I?” Digger asked.
“This is the Czar’s private clinic,” the nurse answered. She was wearing the kind of uniform you only saw in 60’s movies or gag comics in men’s magazines: frilly apron, short skirt, thigh-high stockings, little white hat with a red cross on it. No actual nurses dressed like that anymore, if they ever really had. Her nametag read “Janet.”
“Are you an actual nurse, or some kind of…” Digger couldn’t decide what word to finish the sentence with, and from the look on Janet’s face, she’d just filled in all of them, so he didn’t bother.
“If I were you, I’d worry less about my qualifications, and more about what’ll happen to you now you’re awake,” she said.
Hey, look, Digger’s finally back in the story. It’s about time. Find about more about what’s in store for him in our next exciting episode!
To read from the beginning, click here…