Fan Fiction: Crossovers
Shadow of the Warrior

  As morning broke in Chicago, Big Boy sat at his breakfast table with his bathrobe on, a cup of coffee in front of him, and a cigar in his mouth. He looked through the sun outlined cloud of smoke in front of him at Itchy and Flattop. Big Boy calmly reached his hand to his cigar and took it out of his mouth, he then looked at his men " So you're tellin' me that some Krauts and a cowboy dressed in black were after the coffin as well? And not only that but Mumbles and Gruesome are dead and Sleet and Scorpio are missin'? What the Hell is goin' on?!" Flattop looked down at the floor as he answered his employer "I don't know boss. I'm just tellin' ya what happened." Big Boy was too confused to be angry at his men for failing in their mission. "So what ended up happenin' to the coffin?" He asked. Flattop replied, "The museum it was headin' to sent a truck to pick it up after the cops cleared the scene." Big Boy cursed, "Damn! It's goin' to be a lot harder to heist that coffin from the museum than it was from the train, not only will the cops be watchin' it but some Krauts and some black knight of a cowboy are after it too. Itchy, you get the blue prints for the museum and find us a way to pull this heist off. Flattop, you hit the streets. We're down for men so we're going to have to get some new people, and also try to find out what you can about the German invasion and this cowboy! There's no way they're going to cheat me put of $20 mill."

  By mid-afternoon, smoke and smell of alcohol filled the small corner bar know as "Joe Pops". The smoke was thick enough to conceal the face of the bar's patrons from anyone standing more than a few feet in front of them, which is exactly the way they liked it. People came here to be forgotten, to go unnoticed, people went here to discuss illegal activities or to be hired to perform in them. Cliff Marsland sat at the bar and looked across at the mirror that hung behind the assorted bottles of booze. He saw a broken-down man with blood-shot eyes and disheveled hair looking back at him. A man with no future and a tragic past, Cliff was an honest, hardworking man with a young wife, until that fateful night when he looked down the wrong dark alley and stumbled upon a murder in progress. He watched in disbelief for a moment, then he ran at the attackers and chased them away. He held the dying man in his arms as the police came. He even rode back to the station with them to give a statement. Cliff's head was spinning from the whole ordeal; before he knew it he had been charged with the murder. He was unable to hire a lawyer and had to settle for a public defender who wound up mishandling his case, sending him away for twenty-five years for murder. In that time, his wife left him, breaking the last bit of happiness had in his life. After getting out on parole, Cliff was unable to get a decent job as no one wanted to hire a convicted murderer. The only comfort Cliff could find in life was drinking. A bottle was his only friend, and his only form of entertainment were the stories of the mobsters. Many of them would come to the bar and talk with Cliff about their latest crimes. They figured he was criminal just like them and it didn't matter if he heard their stories. Cliff smiled to himself, the irony that by trying to stop a crime he somehow became a criminal did not escape him. He ordered another beer and hung his head down.

  From the corner of the room, Kent Allard watched Cliff Marsland and took in his situation.

  10:00 pm - Outside Joe Pops bar...

  Cliff Marsland began his long trip home. He was calling it an early night not because he had enough to drink but because he was broke and could no longer order any drinks. He turned down an alley to take a short cut home. The alley was dark, and there was an overflowing dumpster against one wall. The trash that had spilled out from it danced on the wind that blew through the narrow passageway. Cliff buttoned up his jacket as memories of the worst night of his life flooded back to him. Despite this he walked on, he was now thought of as a killer and most of the other criminals knew him, contrary to popular belief there is a sort of honor amongst thieves. Because he was a no criminal no other criminals would attack him, he knew he was safe. It was then that he heard a hollow voice.

  "Marsland, Cliff Marsland."

  In a frightened voice, Cliff asked, "Who…who's there?" Cliff looked around but he could not see anybody. He could only hear the cold, empty voice and his pulse quickened. The voice answered, "Think of me as your chance at a new start Marsland, as your chance to make a difference again. I know that you were once a good man who helped people when he could. You could be that man again. I know that you were falsely convicted of a crime, and that it cost you the life you once had." His voice shaky, Marsland asked, "How…. how do you know this? How do you know what happened to me?"

A sinister laugh echoed through the alley. "The Shadow Knows!"

   Marsland crouched down in a fetal position against the wall of the alley next to a dumpster, "Wha…What do you want from me?" The Shadow answered, "I stop bad things from happening to people Marsland, I stop them by eliminating dangers. Dangers like those that surround you everyday, that tell you things they've done and that they plan to do." Cliff's voice quivered as he wrapped his arms around himself,"You mean the people in the bar."

  Suddenly The Shadow appeared directly in front of Cliff. Cliff looked up and saw the awesome figure above him. The Shadow's cloak and scarf whipped in the wind around him like a flag on a pole high above the city, while his hat remained motionless, the only parts of the Shadow's face Cliff could make out were his pitch black, doll-like eyes and his hawk-shaped nose. The Shadow's voice grew louder. "You call them people Marsland? They're mobsters, murders and thieves, everyday they kill and rob innocent people just like the man you tried to save. You can stop them Marsland! You can stop them by telling me what they tell you." Cliff sat curled up in ball rubbing his shoulders as tears formed in his eyes. He thought for a long moment as the cool fall air blew into his face, the figure above him looked like the Angel of Death, but Cliff thought about his wasted life about what could have been, of the wife and career the underworld took from him. He decided it was time to start taking from them. The Shadow may have looked liked the Angel of Death, but the Angel of Death was still an angel nonetheless.

  "Okay…Okay! I'll help you," said Cliff, "I want to make a difference again. What do you want to know?" The Shadow said, "There's a coffin at the Museum of Natural history. Two groups are after it, one of them is the mob the other appears to be a group of Germans. I want to know why both groups are after the coffin and when they plan to make their next move." Cliff replied, "Okay I'll find out what I can but how do I contact you?" The Shadow laughed, "You don't! One of my agents will come to you he will identify himself by saying 'THE SUN IS SHINING' and you will reply 'BUT THE ICE IS SLIPPERY'. Do you understand? Cliff shook his head yes and before his eyes The Shadow vanished into thin air. Cliff stood up and began to walk home, he often left the bar after eating and drinking all day, but this was the first time he did not walk home feeling empty.