Action Comics 13

The Cab Protective League

Being a reporter meant a lot of things and one of those things meant working late. This particular story meant a late night working the docks over a possible smuggling ring. Hailing a cab, despite being able to leap home in a matter of seconds (why attract possible attention, she reasoned) Clare Kent climbed in the cab as the beat-up yellow car slowed down at the corner.

"Where to, lady?" the driver was as rough as his ride. Clara gave him her address and leaned back into the well-worn seat. They made it a few blocks when another cab pulled up beside them. Clara noticed the driver growing pale.

Before she could ask, the cab fishtailed out of control as the other cab slammed into their rear. The driver yanked on the wheel as the cab spun out of control. Thinking fast, Clara reached over the seat and pulled him into the back before kicking the door free. In one smooth instant they were tumbling over the pavement as the cab spun into a lamppost.

"Gee, we must have been tossed free!" the cabbie stared at the wreck of his cab. The other cab slowly to a crawl before speeding off. Clara was tempted to race after them, but she felt this was a bigger scoop.

"Any idea why they did that?"

The cabbie spat. "Yeah. You noticed that white shield on that hack's door? That means they belong to the 'Cab Protective League'. A real bunch of punks I'll tell ya."

"Really? It's a protection racket?"

"Something like that. They muscle in and take all the fares, then they offer us hacks great deals, but that's before they stick the knife in ya."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the only thing they protect is themselves. Their cars are junkers, the hacks ain't trained, and they're putting all the other cab companies out of business."

"If they're so bad, why do people use them?"

The cabbie shrugged his shoulders. "Because they're the cheapest around. Heck if I know how they stay in the black, but they do. We can't compete with that. That's why I was driving so late, figured I'd make up for what they take during the day."

"You come with me, and I'll make sure the Daily Star compensates you for the loss of your cab."

-S

The next day, or a few hours if one wished to get technical, Clara sat down with George Taylor. Neither spoke after Clara pitched her idea. After a few minutes of silently chomping on his cigar, Taylor looked at her. "Alright, so it's a neat idea."

"You really think so chief?"

"I said neat, not great. One cab company putting others out of business? Tragic, but that's business. One that willing to drive others off the road? That might be something. Plus no one seems to know anything about this league. If you can find out by the weekend edition, I think we might be onto something here Kent."

"Thanks Mr. Taylor, you won't regret this!"

-S

The next day Clara Kent stood in front of the Carlyle Cab Company, the owners of the cab that involved her in this scheme. The garage was filled with cabs in various states of repair while a harried looking fellow in a dispatcher cage yelled into a telephone.

After several minutes, Clara walked further inside. "Mr. Carlyle?"

"Look, we're not hiring" he stopped when she flashed him her press pass.

"Clara Kent, Daily Star. Do you have some time to answer a few questions?"

He hung up the phone. "Sure, time's the one thing I'm not running out of at the moment." He exited the cage and directed her to a back office. "I'd offer you coffee but the repo men already took the pot."

"Things are that bad?"

"They could be worse…" Carlyle's voice trailed off when a man in a suit entered the garage.

The man smiled and doffed his hat. "So, considered our offer?"

"Yeah, I did." Carlyle picked up a wrench, but the man moved liked lighting. In a flash he twisted Carlyle's arm.

"Now that wasn't polite." The man's smile never wavered. "My boss is being very generous, but if you want to play tough, we can play tough. Maybe a few broken ribs?"

The rest of the drivers looked away. Clara, on the other hand, couldn't. She forced herself between the two and slapped the man away. Carlyle dropped to the floor, holding his arm.

The man reared back in shock. "How?" He adjusted his tie. "Must be getting sloppy. Look lady, I don't like hurting dames, so I'll ignore that little mistake."

"How kind." She slapped him. The crack rattled the windows. The man staggered back in horror. The rest of the drivers scattered, dragging Carlyle with them.

The man's disbelief turned to rage. "Oh, a tough broad, eh?" He pulled a gun. Clara easily snatched the gun from his hands. She noticed she warped the barrel in her clenched fist. Tossing the gun aside, Clara folded her arms.

"Your move. Who's your boss?"

The man paled. "You…you ain't human!" He turned to run, but found Clara facing him. Every direction he turned she stood before him. "What are you?"

"A reporter. I want the truth."

"Go to blazes!" He drew a knife. The thin blade flashed and struck Clara full in the neck. The blade shattered into metal slivers.

"S-stay away!" The man's coolness vanished. He sprinted back to his car. Clara strolled behind him.

The man reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a grenade. Clara stopped. "Wait you fool!"

The man's confidence returned. "Ah, you're afraid of something! Good! The boss said to use this if they wouldn't play ball!" he pulled the pin and tossed it. Clara held her hands up. The metal pineapple bounced off her palms and rolled under his car. Before she could move the grenade exploded, turning the car and the man into a ball of pure fire. The man didn't scream as his charred body was tossed into a nearby wall.

-S

Clara spoke into the phone as the fire department doused the flames. "I think we're onto something bigger than a simple extortion racket chief. Look, keep a rewriter handy, I think the case is beginning to crack!" She hung up, but the whole thing did shake her.

The man was pretty well armed for a simple shakedown job. This put most of the local hoods out, but who would use that kind of hardware?

Clara slipped back into the garage. Most of the workers had left, but Clara heard Carlyle talking on his phone. She listened carefully.

"I'm telling you Reynolds, I refused then and I refuse now. Oh? I guess you might be wondering why your lap dog didn't return. He's dead, that's why! I don't know how, but I'm not paying you or your Cab Protective League one red cent, you got me?"

Clara made a few notes and left.

-S

A quick browsing through the Star archives gave her what she needed. "Jackie Reynolds, used to work for the Dead Ravens out of Gotham before setting up shop here. Officially sells insurance, unofficially protection rackets. He seemed to have found himself a fairy godmother as not one case has stuck to him since he moved to Metropolis." Louis picked through the files. "If he's involved, you're going to need some help."

"I can manage Mister Lane." Clara smiled.

-S

Later that night, Superwoman landed neatly in the roof across from Carlyle's company. "If it's Reynolds who is behind this, Carlyle is still in danger."

She didn't wait long for her thesis to be proven. A long black car pulled up at the end of the block. Reynolds and two other men stepped out and walked towards the garage. Reynolds hung back as the other two broke down the door and raced inside. She heard Carlyle's shout as he was dragged outside.

"Seems like a clear case of kidnapping." Superwoman leaped and landed directly on Reynolds' car, crushing the engine under her feet.

"Hey!" Reynolds drew a pistol and marched towards her. "You just a signed your death warrant honey!" he fired. The bullet flattened against her forehead and fell to the street.

"Finished?" Superwoman placed her hands on her hips. The two men holding Carlyle suddenly let him go and took off down the street. Reynolds was not amused.

"Get back here you cowards!"

"You ain't paying us enough to tackle Superwoman!" one of them shouted before they rounded a corner.

Reynolds turned to face her, only to find himself a few inches from his target. Out of reflex he fired again, this time the bullet bouncing off her abdomen and putting out a street light. She snatched the gun from his hand and twisted it into a ball. "Wait right here." She popped a manhole cover and wrapped it around his legs.

"W-where are you going?" Reynolds tried to stay upright.

"Paying a visit to your so-called league." She leaped away.

-S

Finding the headquarters of the Cab Protective League wasn't hard. She landed with an impact in their lot. Dozens of men, all of them armed from knives to machine guns, walked around her. "I'm putting your boss out of business. Anyone who wants to leave, feel free."

She casually walked over to a cab and tore out the engine. She then chucked said engine into the driver's seat of the nearest cab before picking up a third cab and slamming it into a fourth. The men in one mass tossed their weapons aside and walked off. Making sure the building was clear she started tossing the cabs into the walls. In seconds the bricks and mortar were now a pile of rubble.

-S

Racing back to where she left Reynolds and Carlyle, she found a squad of police cars around them. "Hold on officers." She brushed past the police and easily freed Reynolds. The gangster staggered towards the nearest cop.

"Arrest me! I confess, I extorted, robbed, cheated! Just keep that menace away from me!" Reynolds was near hysteria.

"Alright, let's hold the gent for the night." Before the officer could question her, Superwoman leaped away. "I hate it when she does that!"

-S

Reynolds calmed down after he was put in the back of the squad car. As the black and white patrol car sped back to the precinct, Reynolds fumbled inside his coat. Officer O'Malley grew alarmed when he saw Reynolds reach into his coat, but relaxed when he pulled out a cigarette.

"Sorry to be a bother officers, but either of you have a light?"

"Sure, least we could do." Officer Reid struck a match and lit the cigarette. Thick black smoke began to pour off the end as Reynolds tossed it into the front seat and placed a handkerchief over his nose. The car spun out of control and crashed into a storefront. Reynolds kicked the door free and lifted the key from Reid.

Limping towards the nearest payphone, Reynolds quickly dialed a number. "Hello boss, I got pinched! Yeah, yeah, okay, like we planned, ok!" He hung up and went back to the car. Pulling the cops from it, he pulled out and drove off.

-S

Superwoman heard the radio report as she checked on Carlyle's safety. "So, Reynolds stole a police car?"

She took to the rooftops and retraced Reynolds' steps. She found the wrecked storefront easily enough. "Hmm, looks like he's leaking oil…"She narrowed her eyes and focused on the oil. She started running, keeping the oil spill on her right as she dashed past buildings until she crossed the city and finally county line. The oil faded away but she spotted the car abandoned on the side of the road.

"He could be in that cabin a few miles ahead." She took to the air. The cabin was built on a large hill with no trees surrounding it. She also noticed that the roof had thick layer of lead under the timbers. "Odd choice for building material, unless you aim to keep someone from looking in." She landed softly in the front yard and knocked on the door.

Not hearing an answer, she tried the knob. The whole world went white as millions of volts poured into her. Lights flickered back in Metropolis as Superwoman was blown back and rolled down the hill, smoke rising off her.

Reynolds opened the door carefully. "Incredible! She took enough current to roast a whale!"

"Indeed, I had thought my preparations were over-zealous, now I fear I didn't plan enough." A frail voice came from the inside. "Take her inside and strap her down. I want our guest to be secure."

-S

It was a scene from an old melodrama. Superwoman was strapped to a table facing a massive industrial saw. Her eyes were still closed. Reynolds and the old man looked in from a lead lined room. "What is her deal boss?"

The man, known by a select few as the Ultra-Humanite, wheeled himself closer to the window. "She must be an alien."

"Like a man from Mars?" Reynolds tried to hide his disbelief. The Humanite glared at him.

"No, Mars is a dead world. No, her world must have been advanced, perhaps one situated by a red sun, that might account for her power."

"Yeah, but how do you figure she's an alien?"

"Because if any human could possess such strength and power, it would be me!" He looked at his frail and bony hands. "The accident made me the greatest intellect on this world robbed me of much, but if I could take her power…"

"But how are you going to do that boss?"

"Ready the saw. Full dissection and I'll take what I can from her corpse." He glared at her with hate filled eyes. "You may be aware, but I have control over many crimes in this world. I became aware of this interloper when she fouled up my efforts to ignite a war in Europe. She had my attention when she stopped a dam I bankrolled. She vexed me when she destroyed the neighborhoods I invested so many resources, but now she has my full attention."

-S

Reynolds, now wearing full surgical scrubs, checked the straps and the saw. He gave a thumbs up to the Ultra-Humanite and powered the saw and brought it down on Superwoman's scalp. The blade instantly broke, sending the pieces flying around the room. One chunk lodged itself in Reynolds' neck.

Superwoman's eyes fluttered open. With ease she snapped the straps and sat up as Reynolds breathed his last. "What's going on?"

The Ultra-Humanite wasn't prone to panic or rash actions. Seeing the figure in front of him sit up with no injury made him feel something he hadn't felt since he was a boy: fear. He slammed his fist down on the auto destruct button and quickly wheeled his way towards the hanger.

An automated conveyor belt rocketed him towards the hanger. He had automated most of the building and his vehicles to operate using the bare minimum of work. The belt took him straight to the plane where an elevator lifted him to the cockpit.

He started the engines and taxied it out of the hanger. Within seconds he was airborne. "Unexpected, but now I've a better sense of my enemy. Next time I'll destroy her fully!"

-S

Superwoman groggily got to her feet. A loud siren coming from somewhere was making her head ache even worse than it was currently doing. She saw the dead Reynolds at her feet, but there was nothing she could do. Seeing a figure race away, she followed on unsteady legs.

She saw a shriveled old man being loaded into a plane and then the plane took off. She ran and jumped after him, but she was still shaky. She missed the body of the plane and crashed into one of the engines. The blades pelted her but finally broke. She glimpsed the old man looking at her with pure hatred on his face. She tried to crawl along the wing to him, but she saw a detonator in his hand. "Wait!"

He pressed the button and the plane turned into a ball of fire. She landed hard in the ocean as the plane spun into the dark water. She saw no parachute. Seeing the morning sun rise over the ocean reminded her of her deadline and she started swimming back to shore. "How am I going to explain this?"

-S

Clara leaned back in her chair. The cabin was largely destroyed, but there was enough evidence of the Ultra-Humanite's affairs to keep the DA's office and several other law enforcement agencies busy for months. "'Crime Ring Smashed'? Sounds a bit bland."

"Hey, you handed off so many stories the copy boys were running out of ideas." Louis strolled into her office. "Congrats on that, by the way. I don't think we ever sold so many copies before."

"Just in the right place at the right time, as our dear editor likes to brag."

Louis nodded, although she could tell he was annoyed. "Cheer up Lane, I'm sure the next big scoop is right around the corner."

The end

From Darci (extra thanks for the proofreading)

Another thrilling adventure for Clara. There was quite a bit of mayhem in the original, with Superman breaking into the radio station (twice), destroying several used car lots, wrecking the Bates factory, and kidnapping the mayor. The last time there was this much destruction, the Police Chief brought in Detective Reilly (which didn't work out too well, especially for Reilly). There's no sign of George Taylor assigning anyone to report any of this, he only gets interested when the Mayor announces a traffic improvement drive. I can just imagine Lois smoldering while all these news opportunities pass by. Right? Louis should be too. Thanks!

Yeah, sometimes in these stories some streamlining is needed, or at least I think so. Louis get steamed by his coworker, but he gets her back by getting some scoops of his own.

Based on "Superman VS the Cab Protective League" which was first published in Action Comics I#13 (June 1939) with credits to Jerry Siegel (script), Joe Shuster/Paul Cassidy (pencils), and Joe Shuster (inks)

Next time, "Superwoman at the World's Fair!"

Keep an eye out for the following:

All American Comics#1-Origin of the Green Lantern!

Sensation Comics#15-The Railroad Plot

Detective Comics#14-The Case of the Joker