tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44056225884517637312024-02-02T19:36:07.535-05:00Athena's Heroic AdventuresThe adventures and misadventures of the Superheroine White Owl...Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-29869159754734344702013-07-28T17:27:00.001-04:002013-07-28T17:27:30.693-04:00The Golden Rule<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sean Miribilis, once known as the Alchemist and now known as Prisoner
08-7797, shuffled slowly through the corridors of the Federal
Penitentiary in Crown Point. He was carrying his few allowed personal
items, hoping that the guard wouldn't decide to dismantle his radio or
inspect his dop kit. Miribilis was not considered a violent criminal,
but was forbidden from handling chemicals. Still he'd earned a few
privileges and worked in the prison library. As a result, Miribilis was a
position to know most of the inmates, becoming a conduit for
information. But Miribilis was no idiot, he also knew he could profit
from this information.<br /><br />So it came as no surprise when he was
transferred from his cell to a new one. “Goudvuist!” shouted Murray, the
guard. “You got a new roomie. Try to treat him a little better, OK?”
The affable guard gently prodded Miribilis forward and signaled for the
door to close.<br /><br />“So, you're the Alchemist?” came a voice from the lower bunk. “ A loser put here by a super femme?”<br /><br />“That's hardly fair. I had White Owl dead to rights. She was encased in gold but the Guild...”<br /><br />“Yeah, the Guild stepped in because she alerted them, right? Story of my life.”<br /><br />Miribilis narrowed his eyes. “Goudvuist? That's Dutch isn't it? For...”<br /><br />“For
Goldfist, yeah.” The figure on the cot rolled out and stood. Miribilis
blinked. Goudvuist stood 6'3” to Miribilis' 5'9”. Additionally, the
felon was well muscled and oozed contempt from every pore. Goudvuist
stuck out a hand and smiled. “My friends call me Eric. I was able to
arrange this transfer and needed to once I heard you were here.”<br /><br />Miribilis was taken aback at that. “Wh..What do you mean?”<br /><br />“Oh
come on Miribilis! You're the Alchemist! You MAKE gold. I control gold.
If you work with me, we'll get out and get our revenge!.”<br /><br />“You
can't be serious,” said Miribilis. “I was brought down by White Owl; but
YOU—you went against Ultra Woman. That kind of trouble I don't need. I
only have another three years. I plan to do the time and get out.”<br /><br />“But would you get out now if you could?”<br /><br />“Well sure. But how are we going to do this?”<br /><br />Goudvuist
motioned Miribilis closer, then looked up and down the corridor. “I
need to know something. Can you make other things besides gold? Or
different TYPES of gold?”<br /><br />Miribilis nodded. “Twenty Four carats
is what I prefer, but most gold in the jewelry industry is eighteen. And
I can make platinum, tin...a whole host of metals but it takes a long
time to compound it.”<br /><br />Goudvuist nodded. “I figured as much. Would it go easier if you had a sample of the metal?”<br /><br />“Hell
yes! But I would need one of my philosopher's stones. White Owl
destroyed mine. But...” Now Miribilis looked around in a conspiratorial
manner. “I've been working on a new one.”<br /><br />“The hell you say? Where is it?”<br /><br />Miribilis
opened his dop kit, and poured out the contents. In the shaving cream
can he opened a false bottom and dropped a small pouch containing a
yellowish dust. <br /><br />“What's that?” asked Goudvuist.<br /><br />“Well
now, it's nothing but dust. But if I can mix it into paste with purified
water, add some zinc and lead for affinity, and then bake it, it
becomes hardened—my new stone. It won't be as powerful as the original,
but it should do until I get to my real stone in Queen City.”<br /><br />Goudvuist
nodded. “And that's where I come in. I work in the kitchen—so baking
isn't going to be hard, or the water. What about the rest?”<br /><br />“There's
someone in the press area, who owes me a favor. He'll be bringing me
the rest of the ingredients on his next library day. Now do you care to
fill me in?”<br /><br />Goudvuist smiled and motioned for Miribilis to set up his bunk. While Miribilis did, Goudvuist began his story.<br />“The
time before this one, I caught Ultra Woman dead to rights. She forgot I
can control any and all gold, and that included her little toy lariat.
Oh God was she shocked when the lasso wrapped up her wrists, then bit
into her supple flesh. You know, that rope was a gold treasure, and it
made whoever was tied up with it obey.<br /><br />“So Ultra Woman was tied
with her own rope, and had to obey whatever I told her. I let my Golden
Boys take turns with her, keeping her weak and docile. Of course she
couldn't complain much, every time she opened her mouth, something got
shoved into it.”<br /><br />Goudvuist laughed at the memory. He drew another
breath, then resumed his narrative. “Anyhow, I knew that Ultra Woman
was resourceful, and unless I took her completely out, she'd come back
for me. So I melted down her lasso and coated her with it. My last
command to her was to remain perfectly still. She would have had to obey
until someone found her. Just my luck, Violet or one of them other
heroines tracked her down quickly and got her free. I was caught in an
hour.”<br /><br />“You MELTED the lasso?” Miribilis' voice cracked under the strain. “How could you?”<br /><br />“Well you have to admit, that it took a powerful tool away from her. She's never used one since.”<br /><br />“But to destroy something THAT valuable. The potential!”<br /><br />“I didn't destroy it all,” said Goudvuist. “I have about eighteen inches left. I needed a souvenir, a trophy.”<br /><br />“And they didn't find it?”<br /><br />Goudvuist shook his head. “No one knew I'd kept any or where I'd hidden it. It's still there.”<br /><br />“Oh if I had a sample of THAT!” gushed Miribilis. “We could bring Queen City to its knees.”<br /><br />“Or Megapolis,” replied Goudvuist. <br /><br />“It
makes no difference to me. All I want is my revenge on that avenging
raptor! To make her suffer the humiliation she's foisted on me.”<br /><br />“I knew you'd be willing to throw in with me.” said Goudvuist. “Partners?”<br /><br />Miribilis took the proffered hand. “Partners.”<br /><br />Three
weeks later, the breakout at Crown Point was made. Steel doors were
turned into brittle tin and burst through with no effort. Two guards
were electrocuted when the live wires in the conduits were turned to
gold, then jumped to life, wrapping the guards and killing them with
high voltage. Twenty prisoners escaped, eighteen were recovered within
24 hours. All except two. Miribilis and Goudvuist. Or as they were now
known, The Alchemist and Goldenfist.<br />
<br />
“Are you sure you'll be all right?” asked Tiffany for the umpteenth time
since we'd returned from lunch. Tiffany had picked the place, begging
off from Gold Line.<br /><br />“Positive,” I replied. “Look its been three
weeks since they broke out. The FBI lost track of them near Cairo. The
Guild said they hadn't heard anything either. And criminal activity here
has been slow. If STAR wants you to attend the conference on
nanotechnology and ethics, then GO!”<br /><br />“I just don't like leaving you alone,” she pouted.<br /><br />“Would you rather face a Queen City winter, or a weekend in sunny Miami?” I asked. <br /><br />She sighed, but perked up. “If you put it that way, I suppose Miami can be fun.”<br /><br />“Just remember to pack your sunscreen. Remember what the Amazons call you—'She who Burns' “<br /><br />“Hey!
I was there because of the injuries I'd sustained saving YOU!” she
laughed. Her face reddened almost as dark as the sunburn she'd once
worn. “It hit some areas I never KNEW could be sunburned.”<br /><br />She
headed for the door and I turned back to my cataloging for the Museum. A
new arrival of ancient Thracian and Macedonian materials had arrived,
and I was writing the catalog. Basically I was translating from the
catalog Dr Leonidas Diomedes had sent. I let my mind wander back to the
dig I had done with him and his now wife, Dr Mia Stephanopoulous. It
seemed at the time that the fate of the world had rested on our find,
but somehow the world had muddled on regardless.<br /><br />I heard a knock
on my office door. Looking up, I saw the door swing open and Ajay
Chatterjee, the museum's curator lurched through. “You know, its
generally polite to wait for a 'Come in' before barging in Dr
Chatterjee,” I scolded.<br /><br />“No time for that silliness Dr Nikos. We
have a world class exhibit coming to the Queen City Museum. Finally! Now
how is that catalog coming?”<br /><br />I resented his tone. My own
exhibits were always good draws for the museum, with at least two being
exhibited in the British Museum and the Smithsonian. If that's not world
class, nothing is. But Chatterjee is convinced nothing is good unless
its from far away. I think its part of how he justifies the tight
spending at the museum. So putting on a smiling face, I said, “I'm about
halfway done, Ajay. I should be done by tomorrow night.”<br /><br />“Tomorrow night?” he whined. “That's not soon enough. The exhibit opens in...”<br /><br />“The
exhibit opens in a month, Dr Chatterjee. Plenty of time to get the
catalog done, printed and bound. And I not only have Dr Diomedes'
catalog, but my own notes. I was on this dig too, remember?”<br />“How
could I forget? You left me in the lurch for a whole summer. They're
still taking the pistachio ice cream stains out of the mummy.” He
shuddered, mopping his dark forehead with a pristine white handkerchief.
<br /><br />He harrumphed, “Anyway, if you spent less time socializing with
your friends, or seeking out adventures after hours, you might get more
work done. I saw your red headed friend sneaking out. And here I
thought with Cassidy in France, I might have had more of your attention
on the job. Can you finish it any sooner than tomorrow night?”<br /><br />I
smiled, knowing the fussy man HAD to have the final word. “I don't think
so. There's a lot of material, though most of it is small. I'll do my
best though.”<br /><br />“See that you do.” And with that, he left. I
settled into desk chair and turned a page in my notebook. This was an
article that had been unknown to Leonidas at the time. A bronze helmet
with several women and goddesses embossed on it. The helmet was too
small for a normal sized man, so we considered it an oddity. Now I
wasn't sure.<br /><br />I picked up my phone and dialed out to my favorite antiquarian. “Mazona Antiquities,” I heard.<br /><br />“Hi Tania! This is Athena Nikos? From Queen City?”<br /><br />“Athena, how are you?” she answered with that unplaceable accent of hers. “Is this business or pleasure?”<br /><br />“A
bit of both I think,” I said. “I'm cataloging a new exhibit for the
museum, and while everything is accurate on the age, I have a helmet
that just isn't right. It's too small for a man and the style isn't
exactly Thracian or Macedonian.” I nestled the phone receiver on my
shoulder and attached several pictures to an email.<br /><br />“Sending them now,” I said.<br /><br />I waited a moment, then it got a bit longer. “Tania?”<br /><br />“I
haven't seen one of these except in the Archives. It's an ancient
Amazon helmet. But we didn't have any wars near Salonika. I have no idea
how it got there. But I was planning on coming to Queen City anyway. I
don't suppose you could spare a look for an interested antiquarian?<br /><br />“You're
always welcome, you know that. The exhibit won't open for a month. And
since I'm controlling the exhibit, well, I think I can spare a look for a
second professional opinion. Just make sure you bill us, so Chatterjee
doesn't fuss.<br /><br />Her happy laughter made me smile and I realized how much I'd missed her over the previous year.<br />I
got her flight information and told her I'd meet her when her plane
arrived. After I hung up, I settled in at my desk and forced myself to
work on the catalog for the upcoming show.<br /><br />It was dark when I
left the museum, and I worked my way cautiously through the now nearly
empty parking garage. My jeep was parked on the staff level, so I
crossed to it easily and started crosstown.<br /><br />Tiffany's flight had
left earlier in the day. I knew it would be a good thing for her to get
away; though the stories she told me from her visits to Century City and
Paragon left me concerned. Still I knew the work at STAR was important
to her; and it was nice to see her recognized for it.<br /><br />Daisy
pounced when I entered the apartment, leading me to her empty dish in
the kitchen. I apologized that it was half past cat feeding time, and
opened a tin for her. She knelt down and took two bits, then sauntered
off...apparently cat food has to breathe like a fine wine.<br /><br />I ate a
small salad, catching the news. A rare Raphael had been stolen from an
alleged mob boss. I smiled, thinking M must be back in town, and
wondering if this would be the time I would finally catch him with the
goods.<br /><br />After dinner I changed into my working clothes. A mild
winter was currently in Queen City, so I decided to forgo my jacket and
just wear my normal high necked leotard. By nine pm I was well into my
patrol route, crisscrossing Queen City and finding all well.<br /><br />Or
almost. Rhenania is one of Queen City's oldest districts, founded by the
German immigrants who had flooded the river town in the 1800's.
Rhenania was a testament to sausage making and beer brewing, but the
neighborhood had morphed into an old, run down area. Various groups were
working with the idea to restore it, so Rhenania now was a hodge-podge
of modern boutiques, upscale shops and closed and condemned buildings.
It was working its way towards trendy, though and still a place for the
adventurous.<br /><br />I swept down Goethe, where a lot of the bars and
nightclubs were already closed. But I heard a shriek of fear from a dark
alley and sighed. When would people learn that the dark held the
terrors?<br /><br />I swooped into the alleyway and saw a woman struggling
against two male attackers. One was holding her bay the waist, the other
pulling her arm. I landed behind them and shouted , “HEY!”<br />I tossed a
bop ball at high speed at the one pulling the woman's arm. He turned at
the sound of my voice and the hard steel projectile caught him in the
jaw. He folded like yesterday's newspaper. The other mugger thought
better and tried to run. He threw the young woman forward and ran. I
tossed a phosphorus grenade at him. As it exploded, he threw his arms
into his face at the blinding light. But he also ran headlong into a
streetlight. I reached down to help the young woman.<br /><br />“Are you all right?” I asked.<br /><br />“She
will be, but you aren't” I heard a gruff voice behind me. I turned to
see a man covered head to toe in a golden armor approaching. “So you're
White Owl? You don't look so tough.”<br /><br />I got into a fighting crouch. “Goldenfist?”<br /><br />“At your service—though you'll soon be in mine.”<br /><br />“I doubt that, you...OOOFFF!!!” A fist made of solid gold slammed into my stomach.<br />
<br />
The impact of the heavy fist caused me to reel backward and I saw
Goldenfist pull his right arm back as another fist appeared. This one
curved high and slammed into may jaw. Off balance I fell back into a
stack of tires which were leaning next to a dumpster. I grabbed a tire,
winging it at the golden villain and smirked as he toppled to one knee. I
hastily dug a gas ball out of my pouch, then tossed it at Goldenfist's
feet. The ball bounced twice rolling to a stop, then popped open,
filling the area with sleeping gas.<br /><br />Goldenfist put his hand to
his head, fighting the narcotic fumes. He waved his left hand, in an
uppercut motion, and I felt the solid fist strike between my thighs. I
howled in pain, and both my hands flew to my tender nether regions. As I
winced in pain, I felt a heavy rubber tire drop over my head and
shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides. I flexed my muscles but felt the
tire get heavier and brighter.<br /><br />"Now Eric," I heard a familiar
voice call. Looking out, I saw the tire had turned to gold. The weight
was at the high end of my strength and I staggered to stay afoot. Then
the tire began constricting, pinning me inside. I gasped for air, then
staggered back as an enormous fist clipped my jaw once more. The second
fist punched hard into my crotch and I dropped to my knees in pain. I
looked up to see the Alchemist grinning, then spinning as his roundhouse
kick ended any conscious thoughts I still had.<br /><br />I woke in pain,
but my body's healing factors had already begun to clear up the bruises
and contusions my nocturnal occupation generally provides. I sat up,
wary. I was apparently unbound, and though I'd been moved from the alley
to some new place. I patted my waist and arched my eyebrows in
surprise. They'd left my toolbelt. Remembering the Wiener Man's cruel
joke though, I checked my pouches. Sure enough, everything had been
emptied.<br /><br />Still, unbound and recovered, I knew my strength would
be enough to stop these two. I crossed from the cot to a closed door.
The door was made of a solid wood, with heavy locks and hinged on the
outside. It took me all of fifteen seconds to kick through the jambs and
stride out onto the abandoned warehouse floor. I wasn't sure exactly
where I was but it was on the riverfront, not too far from the stadiums.
A light shone across from me, so I crossed, bold and confident toward
the Alchemist and Goldenfist.<br /><br />I stopped about 10 feet out, still
cognizant of Goldenfist's powers. "All right, you've had your fun,
gentlemen. Are you ready to return to Crown Point?" Neither one looked
up.<br /><br />"Cat got your tongues?" I asked, moving closer.<br /><br />"That's close enough, White Owl," said the Alchemist. "I want you to stand perfectly still."<br /><br />My body trembled in rebellion but I found myself standing perfectly still.<br /><br />The Alchemist turned toward Goldenfist and said, "You see Eric? I duplicated it perfectly."<br /><br />Goldenfist rubbed his jaw and said, "I'm not so sure, Sean. My I try something?"<br /><br />"Absolutely," said the Alchemist.<br /><br />"White Owl," he began. "I want you to take off your belt, and set it right here on the table."<br /><br />I
struggled again, but my hands moved smoothly and detached the buckle.
Burning with shame, I set the belt on the table between the two men.
"What have you done to me?" I demanded.<br /><br />"You don't like it, do
you, White Fowl?" laughed Goldenfist. "My new buddy was able to
duplicate the last little bit of Ultra Woman's lasso. It's that collar
you're wearing now. You have to do whatever anyone says."<br /><br />My hand raced for the collar and both men shouted "STOP!" I froze once more.<br /><br />The
Alchemist ran a nervous hand through his dark hair. "White Owl, you are
never to touch or attempt to remove your collar again, is that
understood?" Tears welled in my eyes, understanding the power and
control this gave them. Helplessly, I nodded in acquiescence.<br /><br />Goldenfist
stood up and strode close. "You will not resist me, White Owl," he
commanded. His rough hand cupped my rear end, rubbing it with delight.
"I've had Ultra Woman this close so many times," he continued. "I think
it's time for someone fresh. But she IS your nemesis, Mirabilis?"<br /><br />"No no, go ahead," the Alchemist gloated. There will be time for both of us, I think.<br /><br />Goldenfist
reached for the tab that would release my leotard's collar, then
stopped. "Why should I do all the work?" he said lecherously. "White
Owl, why don't you do a sexy little striptease for us. Get out of that
suit, babe...."<br /><br />As if some unseen musicians were playing a bump
and grind in my head, I began a slow dance for my captors. My gloves
came off, then I slowly unzipped my leotard, peeling it back and
exposing my breasts. <br /><br />"Well you're not Ultra Woman," laughed
Goldenfist. "But 34c's are all right for me." My face was burning with
shame as his hands played with my breasts. I turned my back on him,
shaking my hips like I'd seen the woman do in Marrakesh, then peeled the
entire leotard down past my boots. I turned back with nothing but a
tight thong covering my womanhood.<br /><br />"Lets see it all," he
demanded, and again I was powerless to resist. Clad only in my mask and
boots, with a collar of gold around my neck I was on display for the
FBI's current most wanted. I could see Goldenfist's desire very plainly
pressing against his jumpsuit.<br /><br />"Kneel down, Owly. and let's see if you're as good as your friend," said Goldenfist. I knelt, tears in my eyes.<br />****<br />After
what seemed like hours I rose from the floor dirty, sweaty and totally
degraded. I trembled in fear and remembrance of the two criminals. But
with the collar, i was powerless to resist their commands. Mirabilis had
the idea first.<br /><br />"Let's unmask her. Why should we hide here, when we can take over her other life too?"<br /><br />"Great idea!" agreed Goldenfist. He reached for my mask, intending to peel it off.<br /><br />"Hey,
why won't it come off?" I stood mute. Furiously. Goldenfist slapped me.
"Answer me White Bitch. Why won't your mask come off?"<br /><br />"It requires a special solvent," I replied in an emotionless voice.<br /><br />"And where is that kept?" he pressed.<br /><br />I
couldn't answer--but my finger pointed to the stash of my weapons on
the table. The Alchemist shouted, "Found it!" and brought it to
Goldenfist. The golden villain depressed the spray bottle in my face and
my mask slipped into his eager hands. <br /><br />"Here ya go, Sean.
Something for your collection," he laughed. Goldenfist put his hand on
my chin and tilted my head up. "You look familiar," he said. "Like
someone from a magazine."<br /><br />"Please, don't be vulgar Eric," said the Alchemist. "She's nothing like those centerfolds."<br /><br />"I
didn't read Chateau when I was in stir," said Goldenfist. "I read
National Geographic and Modern Archaeology." He snapped his fingers.
"Now I remember. She's an archaeologist. Athena something."<br /><br />"Really?"
said the Alchemist, looking closer at me. "You know, you're right. I
think I've seen her in the museum center before. So what's your other
name White Owl?"<br /><br />"Nikos." I sobbed. "It's Athena Nikos."<br /><br />"And can you tell us Ultra Woman's name?"<br /><br />I struggled....I didn't want to but blurted out, "Tania Mazona."<br /><br />Mirabilis
smiled wolfishly. "Excellent. Then we can lay plans for her defeat as
well. She'd never expect her good friend White Owl to betray her."<br /><br />Goldenfist
motioned toward a black SUV in the warehouse. "Please, Ms Nikos, get
into the back. You're going to direct us to your home, and we're moving
in." With heisitating steps, I couldn't do anything more than comply.<br />
<br />
Tania walked through the concourse of the Queen City airport, thankful
to be on the ground. "I don' t know HOW mortals do it!" she thought to
herself. "All of them cooped up in that tight compartment. And for the
most part they're polite!" She decided she would have to make better
noted on her return flight, so that they might be entered into the
Archives for her country's social scientists and philosophers to ponder.<br /><br />She
slipped up to the baggage claim carousel and found her weekend bag. She
picked it up, pushed her glasses up her nose and ambled toward the
door. A driver with a sign caught her eye..."MAZONA" <br /><br />"I'm Tania Mazona," she said, introducing herself.<br /><br />"Hi Ms Mazona," said the driver. I'm Sean Dee from the museum. Dr Nikos sent me to pick you up."<br /><br />"Oh!" said Tania, taken aback. "Thank you, but I was going to rent a car."<br /><br />"If
you didn't pre book one, you won't get a good rate," said the man. "And
I've been asked to take you straight to your hotel. Dr Nikos wants to
see you for dinner, then will take you to the museum tomorrow, if that's
all right."<br /><br />Tania nodded. "I suppose its ok." She pressed her
hands against her wrists, reassuring herself that her bracers were still
in place. By touching them together, she could turn to Ultra Woman in a
moment's time. Lost in her reverie, she didn't notice Sean tugging at
her suitcase .<br /><br />"I can take that," he repeated.<br /><br />"NO!" said
Tania quickly; almost too quickly. "It has some valuable equipment
inside, and...well I'd just feel better if I can keep an eye on it
myself."<br /><br />"Suit yourself," said Dee. He led the way through the
concourse and out onto the parking deck. A cold breeze from the river
caused Tania's skirt to flutter, giving a glimpse of her long, lithe
legs to all the onlooking crowd. Tania remained focused on Sean, however
and followed him to a black SUV with the logo of the museum emblazoned
on the side.<br /><br />They climbed into the SUV, and Sean asked Tania
where she was staying. "The Mariott," she replied. "It has a nice view
of the river and its within walking distance to the museum."<br /><br />"Not
a problem," said Sean. The fifteen mile drive took about a half hour
though, as traffic was backed up along the interstate. Tania felt
herself getting restless...eager for a chance to soar over Queen City
again. The SUV stopped at the hotel and Tania gracefully removed herself
from the vehicle. <br /><br />"Thank you for picking me up," she said.<br /><br />"Do you need me see you in?" asked Sean.<br /><br />"No
thank you, I've been here before." She waved to him, then swept through
the revolving door. The attendant at the desk greeted Tania warmly,
then handed her the key card that would allow her access. Tania rode the
elevator to her floor and stepped into her room, smiling. she carefully
unpacked her things, then checked the time. It was 3:30 and Athena
wouldn't be finished at work for another hour or two. Tania rolled up
the sleeves of her blouse , then touched the armored gauntlets on her
wrists together. A bright flash filed the room and when it receded,
Tania Mazona was gone--replaced by the instantly familiar livery of
Ultra Woman.<br /><br />Tania opened the balcony of her room and stepped out
on the narrow porch. She kicked gently at the surface and felt herself
gliding up on the warm air currents rising from Central Avenue. She
moved gracefully, an elegant hawk moving gracefully on the thermals.
Ultra Woman headed toward the river; being raised on an island, she
loved the water and generally would start any patrols there. Queen City
was smaller than her own Megopolis, but still teeming with life downtown
at this hour. Tania swooped back toward the city when she spotted a
flying figure in white ahead of her.<br /><br />Smiling she angled toward
her friend, eager to say hello and to see if she could help. It wasn't
like White Owl to be active during daylight hours, so something special
must be going on. "I'm sure two sets of super hands would be doubly
helpful," thought Tania.<br />White Owl swept down toward the football
stadium and once again, Tania grew puzzled. Then she spotted the gleam
of gold in the end zone.<br /><br />"Goldenfist!" thought Tania with alarm.
She remembered how much a threat Goldenfist could be and determined to
stop him. White Owl's descent was bringing the heroine in on a wrong
tack, White Owl didn't see Goldenfist. But to her advantage, Goldenfist
was focused on Queen City's protector and didn't see Ultra Woman.<br /><br />She
swept in behind the felon, using a hammer fist on the back of
Goldenfist's head. The overconfident felon drooped to one knee, the pain
almost unbearable. Tania stopped, ready to land a second blow, when
Goldenfist yelled, "Stop Ultra Woman!"<br /><br />Distracted, Tania glanced
around, only to see White Owl coming to her aid. "I don't think your
Goldmen can stop both of us, Goldenfist," she said with confidence in
her voice.<br /><br />But that swagger turned to pain when a heavy Bop Ball
crashed into the back of Tania's skull. She turned in pain, stunned by
White Owl's errant throw, then was caught off guard as Owl grabbed her
wrist and with a tae kwon do twist, put Ultra Woman on the ground.<br /><br />"White
Owl! What are you doing?" said Ultra Woman, trying to get off the
ground. White Owl landed on top of Tania and grappled the Amazon. Tania
held back, not wanting to hurt her friend.<br /><br />"Surprised Ultra Bitch?" growled Goldenfist.<br /><br />"What have you done to her?!" demanded Tania, dodging another punch from White Owl.<br /><br />"This..."
said Goldenfist. Opening his palm, Tania could see a gold collar fly
out of his hand and straight at her neck. Caught in White Owl's powerful
grip, the Amazon Champion was powerless to prevent the collar from
locking itself around her neck.<br /><br />"Now stop, Ultra Woman!" came
another voice from out of the shadows. Tania felt her body being held in
thrall to the stranger's voice. She looked at the man emerging from the
sidelines and with a shocked voice said, "Sean?"<br /><br />The second man smiled. "My friends call me Sean. You must call me master."<br /><br />Tania tossed her head and laughed. "An amazon calls no man...Master?<br /><br />"Puzzled Ultra Woman? I'm not surprised, I doubt you were bound much with your own lasso."<br /><br />"You don't have my lasso!" said Ultra Woman. "Goldenfist melted it down."<br /><br />"He
kept a portion of it as a souvenir. I was able to analyze and duplicate
the properties, for I am the Alchemist." Sean bowed, then said, "You
are now a slave, Ultra Woman. You will not attempt to touch or remove
your collar. Do you understand?"<br /><br />Tania struggled against the compulsion, until sweat broke on her forehead, but it was no use. "I understand," she said.<br /><br />She felt a slap on her cheek. "You understand, WHAT?" demanded the Alchemist.<br /><br />Shame burned through Tania's soul as she replied obediently, "I Understand, Master."<br />
<br />
My back, shoulders, knees and certain delicate parts ached. I glanced to
my left and saw Tania suffering the same pains. Sometime late on
Thursday we had both been stripped of our costumes, then dressed in gold
versions of a harem slave. Both the Alchemist and Goldenfist had taken
turns with us; vengeful and angry, dominating us and constantly
reminding us of our new status as slaves of the newly christened "Gold
Rush." When they had finished their sport, Goldenfist commanded us to
kneel in a submissive pose, then told us not to move or speak until
released.<br /><br />Tania's eyes had flashed in agitation, and I'm sure I
opened my mouth, but the words stifled themselves in my throat. The
restored golden lasso did its job, forcing us to total obedience. The
escaped felons had slept for hours; it was late in the morning when
Goldenfist finally emerged down the stairs from my loft bedroom.<br /><br />"Good
Morning ladies," he said with a huge grin on his face. "I think I am
ready for a threesome this morning." My body tensed and Goldenfist
stepped forward, circling us with a wolfish grin. "Now who do I want to
do what?"" he pondered.<br /><br />My office door opened and the Alchemist
stepped out, a large frown on his face. "My God, Eric, is sex the only
thing on your mind?"<br /><br />"Is there anything else?" asked Goldenfist, genuinely surprised.<br /><br />"I
thought you were intelligent, cunning." said the Alchemist. He waved an
open palm at Tania and me. "Look! We have two of the most powerful
heroines in the world at our mercy, right?"<br /><br />"Right.." said Goldenfist, with no understanding.<br /><br />He
held out his hand--a coil of golden rope in his hand, "And thanks to
you keeping some of the golden lasso, and my own alchemical studies, we
were able to duplicate Ultra Woman's lasso. Remember? Anyone bound by
that has to answer truthfully and obey all commands."<br /><br />"I know that, Sean. So what?"<br /><br />"So...White
Owl and Ultra Woman are not only powerful; they're connected! Think of
the heroes and heroines they know. Who they know in their other lives!
The access they have in so many places. Think Eric! They are the KEYS to
the police files, the White House."<br /><br />The Alchemist grabbed me,
pulling me around to face Goldenfist. "Ultra Woman comes from an island
of women who are just like her. Imagine an army of Ultra Women!! White
Owl here, is ENGAGED to Captain Valiant! Wouldn't you like to control
HIM? To ruin his life? What about Ultra Man? Captain Liberty? White
Venus? Star Spangled Girl? The Crimson Dynamo? Lady Midnight?" The
passion in his voice was growing. "And with a cadre of powerful heroes
and heroines at our beck and call, the whole underworld would fall into
line too. We could RULE the world--why settle for two little
insignificant beings?" The Alchemist cast me aside and I landed hard on
the floor.<br /><br />Goldenfist rubbed his jaw frowning. "I guess I hadn't
considered anything more than revenge. Glad to see one of us was
planning ahead, partner. So what's the plan?"<br /><br />"First, lets start
by extracting all the information we can from these bitches, then I have
an idea that will ruin their lily white reputations."<br /><br />They
started with Ultra Woman. "Where is your island? What are the defenses?
What's the best way to attack? How do we keep the Amazons there subdued?
What is Ultra Man's secret identity? His weaknesses...?" And on and on.<br /><br />Tania's
eyes filled with tears as the truths came tripping off her tongue. Even
though she was compelled by the lasso embedded in her contol collar,
she knew the hurt she would soon be putting her family, sisters and
friends through.<br /><br />They turned their attention to me. My willpower
was no less than Tania's, and I felt the information ripped from my
brain, pouring forth like a spring. Virgil's name--then Tiffany's, Dark
Hunter, the secrets of the Guild, and more. I sobbed as each new tidbit
fell from my mouth and as Goldenfist scribbled them furiously onto the
notebook. <br /><br />It was twilight when the Alchemist sat back in his
chair, satisfied. Goldenfist nodded agreement and smiled. "Can we play
with them now?" he asked lecherously.<br /><br />The Alchemist shot him a
wicked glare. "No! It won't be much longer before these two are missed.
We'll need to strike now, to attract attention and catch these heroes
unaware."<br /><br />"What do you have in mind?"<br /><br />The Alchemist leaned
in conspiratorially. "I thnk its time the Gold Rush made itself known
here in Queen City. With its two new members." <br /><br />Goldenfist
followed his outstretched hand and smiled as it lit on Tania's breast.
"Terrific!" he said. "Should we suit them in their own outfits?"<br /><br />"No
leave them like this--half heroines, all slave! As for the target..."
The Alchemist got up and circled to me again. He tilted my chin and
gazed deep into my glassy grey eyes. "I think the new collection of
Greek Artifacts at the Natural History Museum would be a good place to
start. We have our all access code right here."<br />
<br />
Tania tried to resist once more when the Alchemist gave us the command
to stand up and come with us. The compelling force of the mystic gold
which had once formed her lasso was too powerful though, and Ultra Woman
staggered to her feet.<br /><br />My body was already tuned to the
obedience; at the Alchemist's word, I shot to my feet, then
stumbled--still sore from the long captivity and the depravity of both
the Alchemist and his partner Goldenfist. The Alchemist grumbled but saw
our compliance and led the way out my front door and down the
stairwell. Silently we followed. <br /><br />I watched Ultra Woman's blond
curls bobbing in front of me,occasionally catching a glimpse of the
golden torc which kept her in thrall to the whims of our captors.
Something about it nagged at the back of my head, but Athena's wisdom
was also being held at bay somehow.<br /><br />We climbed into the back of
the van and sat quietly at the Alchemist's command. Goldenfist got into
the driver's seat and we cruised through a dark Queen City Friday night.
As we drove, the Alchemist lcame back to us and asked me, "How many
guards are there at the Museum at night?"<br /><br />My chin trembled..."Two" I blurted. "One patrolling, one at the desk."<br /><br />"And what happens if you come in late..or early?"<br /><br />"It gets recorded in the computer. My access pass lets me in at any hour. No guard visits, they just check me on the intercom."<br /><br />The
Alchemist laughed. "It's just like I thought--Security is pathetic!" I
flinched, realizing all the times I'd fought with Ajay to increase
security measures. I knew about the interior security--especially tight
in the special exhibits halls, but the Alchemist hadn't asked about
them.<br /><br />"All right then ladies. Here are your orders." The
Alchemist rubbed his hands in glee. "Ultra Woman, you will find the
roaming guard as quickly as possible and put him to sleep. Then you will
meet us in the Greek Exhibit. White Owl, you will take care of the desk
guard..." My heart leapt at the vague wording but fell as quickly as he
added, " by putting him to sleep with a gas ball, then you will join us
as well."<br /><br />We arrived at the MuseumCenter and the plan went as
expected. I frowned as I thought of Foster's face when the gas ball
exploded next to him. I silenced all the alarms and special security
measures, then left the hall.<br /><br />Within minutes Tania and I were
once again standing with our captors, obedient little lap pets. I raised
my hands toward my neck and was told once more, "You will NOT attempt
to remove your collar, White Owl."<br /><br />I think Goldenfist was feeling
left out, because he repeated the order to Ultra Woman. Goldenfist
scowled at the Alchemist, then growled, "Don't hog them all to
yourself."<br /><br />Goldenfist looked us both in the eye and said, "You
ladies know what's valuable and what's not. Grab teh valuable stuff--the
stuff we can sell, and take it to the van. Make it quick." <br /><br />I
stumbled off with a jerk, then headed into the exhibit hall. The
valuable relics and the time I'd spent preparing the room were both
swept aside as we gathered golden statues, priceless bronzes and pots
and more. I followed Tania obediently to the van and loaded the
treasures of the Hellenic age into the rear. Tania stepped up behind me
and bent to place her load in the van as well.<br /><br />Then it clicked.
The orders! They had been given to keep us from taking off our own
collars. I moved swiftly, placing my hands around Tania's neck. My
nimble fingers found the release latch and I popped the collar free from
Ultra Woman's neck.<br /><br />Tania shook her head, her tawny mane shaking
free and falling gracefully into place. "Thank you," she said. She
reached up and quickly pulled my collar free as well.<br /><br />I smiled in
relief as my thoughts became fully mine again. In the meantime, Tania
touched her bracers together and became Tania Mazona again. She smiled,
then touched them together once more. I shielded my eyes from the glare,
and where once a slave, then Tania Mazona stood, Ultra Woman now
appeared.<br /><br />"You're not completely dressed," I said, pulling the
renewed lasso from the passenger seat. "You really should be the only
one to wield this." Tania took the lasso and held it gingerly.<br /><br />"You've seen the trouble this thing can cause, Athena. I wonder if I should use it at all."<br /><br />"Well this isn't the time to worry about it NOW Tania," I smiled. Let's take care of the bad guys first."<br /><br />"Are you going to fight dressed like that?" she giggled.<br /><br />I
looked at my outfit and smiled sheepishly. "I have another in my
office. Give me just a minute. Not all of us have magic bracers." Two
minutes later we were racing down the hallway to the Greek exhibit--and
found it empty.<br /><br />"Where did they go?" Tania asked in a whisper. I listened then pointed.<br /><br />In the Egyptian area of the museum the Alchemist was roaring with delight. "I've found it--I've found it!" <br /><br />"Not so loud Sean! You'll bring the cops," said Goldenfist.<br /><br />"Stop worrying! We have some high powered backup, remember?" He waved at an ancient parchment, framed on the wall.<br /><br />"Do
you know what this is?" He asked Goldenfist. Without waiting for an
answer, he continued, "This is a treatise by Hermes...HERMES
TRISMEGISTUS himself!"<br /><br />Goldenfist shrugged his shoulders and said, "So what?"<br /><br />"YOU
FOOL!" shrieked the Alchemist! "Trismegistus is the FATHER of Alchemy!
The very foundations of understanding the world are here! Why with this,
taking the world would be child's play." <br /><br />He looked around. "Where are those bitches? They can help us take this off the wall."<br /><br />The
Alchemist was answered by a powerful bracer bound arm. He staggered
back, holding his nose and reaching in his tunic for the Philosopher's
stone. Tania grabbed his hand, and the Alchemist dropped the stone.
Tania brought her spiked heel onto the stone, shattering it into so many
fragments.<br /><br />"The only transformation YOU'LL be doing is breaking
big rocks into small ones," said Ultra Woman, grabbing the Alchemist and
preparing an airplane spin into the wall.<br /><br />Behind her, Goldenfist
saw the gleam of Ultra Woman's belt, tiara and her newly restored
lasso. Smiling, he cracked his knuckles and prepared to make Ultra Woman
his hostage again. But from the ceiling, I dropped down on top of him,
breaking his concentration.<br /><br />"You!" he glowered, scrambling back
to his feet. He pointed his fists at the huge gleaming statue of Ra,
then at me, I rewarded him with a savage blow on his jaw, sending
Goldenfist reeling.<br /><br />The fight was over quickly. "How..how come my powers didn't work on that gold statue?" asked Goldenfist.<br /><br />"Because
the museum has a gilded plaster statue." I replied grimly. I agreed to
guard the prisoners while Ultra Woman saw to the security team and
called Captain Winslow. She was back in a few minutes.<br /><br />By then,
both prisoners were less woozy and feeling their oats. "You may have
caught us, but we know all your secrets, Athena and Tania!" taunted the
Alchemist.<br /><br />"And you can bet by the time we hit Crown Point again, the entire prison's gonna know." I shared a look with Ultra Woman.<br /><br />"They have a point, Ultra Woman," I said. "And those we love will be in danger too."<br /><br />Tania's hand went to her side. "I want to do the right thing. But to deprive people of their memories?"<br /><br />I drew a deep breath. "I agree; its a tough call. But Athena's wisdom would allow for it."<br /><br />"How about this," said Tania, dropping the lasso over the shoulder's of our two former captors...<br /><br />"You
will remember everything from the time of your escape until the time of
your capture, with the exception of any identities you learned." I
watched in astonishment as their faces went slack, then glazed and back
to normal.<br /><br />"I think I need to give this back to the Queen," said
Tania, recoiling the lasso. "There is so much power in the lasso and I
don't want to think of it falling into evil hands again." <br /><br />Captain
Winslow arrived a few moments later and smiled broadly at Ultra Woman.
"Always nice to have you visit our city ma'am," he said politely.
"Giving White Owl some pointers?"<br /><br />"It is she who is teaching me, I am afraid," said Tania.<br /><br />Winslow
looked at me with an arched eyebrow, then nodded. He and Duffy took the
prisoners into custody and I flew home, exhausted.<br /><br />*****<br />EPILOGUE<br />Ajay
Chatterjee was beside himself as he ushered Tania Mazona to my office.
"I am well aware of your work in dating ancient artifacts Ms Mazona. I
am so glad Dr Nikos decided to call in an expert on this matter." He
glared at me.<br /><br />"Ajay," I reminded him, pointing at the wall clock.
"Don't you have a meeting with Mrs Pogue? As in the society register?
As in the museum's biggest financial donor?"<br /><br />Chatterjee blanched, then hastily excused himself.<br /><br />"I apologize for him Tania, but..." I began<br /><br />Tania
held up her hand, her silver bracelets jingling. "Its all right Athena,
I get it a lot!" She laughed and then said, "Now what about this
helmet?"<br /><br />I pointed to it, sitting on my workbench. Tania got close and leaned in. "Its definitely Amazon," she said.<br /><br />Then she gasped. "Look here, where the headbad would have been."<br /><br />I pulled my own magnifier out and stared where she was pointing. A faint greek inscription appeared.<br /><br />"NIKE?" I read.<br /><br />"Its
a treaty helmet, Athena," said Tania. "The Amazons would use them when
they established a peaceful envoy or an alliance with another city
state. The full inscription would be 'Stayn Iraynay kai stay
Nikay'--Through Peace and through Victory."<br /><br />I crossed my arms in wonderment. "That certainly would be a good definition of a lasting friendship," I said. <br /><br />The End.Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-69872729118001629242013-07-28T17:08:00.000-04:002013-07-28T17:08:00.645-04:00The Terror of Queen City<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A silvery sliver of a moon hung low in the western sky early on a Sunday
Morning. Duane Jefferson trembled in the chill air as he stood outside
the delivery entrance to Drake's Pawn Shop in the upper scale Ash Grove
neighborhood of Queen City. A small black leather toolbag lay open on
the ground beside him, filled with wire cutters, pliers and
screwdrivers, as well as the schematics for the store's security system.<br /><br />"That
old man Drake sure rakes it in on these early weekends," muttered
Duane. "When people can afford to buy back their stuff. And with this
holiday on Monday, I know its just sittin' in the safe until the bank
opens...." Duane finished his work on the two security boxes, having
disabled both the load and silent alarms, and shutting down the video
feed. He turned his attention to the task of opening the locks.<br /><br />A
dark shadow loomed over the door. "Aw Hell, no!" said Duane, throwing
his tools into the satchel. He turned to run but a slender arm swathed
in a long white glove apprehended him.<br /><br />"Going somewhere?" I
asked in a cheerful voice. For once, someone had the good sense not to
struggle. I handcuffed him to the dumpster then pulled my cell phone to
call in the collar. While I was speaking to the dispatcher, I felt a
sharp jab in the back of my shoulder, almost like a mosquito bite. It
was too late in the year for that, so I managed to pull out a
minidart. I pulled a small vial of a general antitoxin. <br /><br />I
waited nervously for five minutes until the squadcar pulled in, then
handed over my collar. I told them I'd be in later to fill Captain
Winslow in. I knew the paperwork was going to be rough, but I had the
photos, and handed the cops the memory stick.<br /><br />I flew home, still
jittery, and headed downstairs to Crimson's lab. She wasn't
home—Goldenfist was loose in Megapolis, and Tiffany had gone to assist
Claire in stopping him. They'd taken him down easily enough, but she'd
phoned earlier about spending another day before coming home.<br /><br />I
took the needle from the evidence bag, and set up the centerfuge. Any
liquid on that dart was quickly spun out. I placed the residue into a
chemical analyzer then slipped upstairs to bed. Whatever it was that
had hit me, apparently wasn't affecting my mind, my reflexes or anything
else. I figured I could at least get some sleep.<br /> <br />I slipped
into bed and felt the THUMP of my rather large cat settling onto the bed
for some Daisy time. I stoked her idly, and the trill of her purr soon
relaxed me to the point of slumber. My mind calmed and my sleep was
dreamless. <br /><br />I heard the alarm going off, then got out of bed and
dressed for church. After pouring my coffee into my travel mug, I
slipped downstairs and checked the analyzer. The printout was sitting
on the machine, but I didn't have time to stop.<br /><br />I hopped into the
Jeep and headed to St George's arriving in time to top off my coffee
and grab a pastry before entering the sanctuary. I sat in the back,
struggling to stay awake through Father Tim's homily, and remaining
mostly successful. After the services, I stayed in the narthex to
mingle and fellowship, but I was politely ignored for the most part. <br />As
I drove home, confused, my watch beeped and I realized I was going to
be late for a meeting I had with Josh. I pulled into the parking around
back and White Owl launched from my balcony a few minutes later. I
landed outside the Paparosa's Pizza a few minutes later, noticing my
publicist had yet to arrive. I smiled as his Camry rounded the corner
and eased into a spot. He spotted me and waved.<br /><br />We walked to the
restaurant, and Josh held the door open, but gave me an odd look doing
so. We sat in a corner booth in the back, ordered and Josh pulled out
the spreadsheets.<br /><br />"What's the bad news, Mr Bailey?" I said, smiling at him through my mask.<br /><br />"Frankly
White Owl, you're a bit of a mystery to the public," he said. "Some of
them are scared of you frankly; about 35 % of the public views you as a
menace or something really scary."<br /><br />"What about the rest?" I
asked. "Well another 35% or so thinks of you in a positive way; you're a
needed figure and good for Queen City. Your fan base is getting
smaller though; you aren't seen as 'dark' by the Hero Collectors, but
you aren't 'light' enough to be marketed as a kid's role model. Mainly
because of your predilection for getting into trouble."<br /><br />"But I manage to overcome those things," I said. <br /><br />"I
know," said Josh. "But your friend Captain Valiant manages to win
without all the captures and defeats. Even the Crimson Dynamo has a
higher rating than you." Josh shuddered.<br /><br />"Is something wrong?" I asked.<br /><br />"Are you wearing a new perfume or something?" asked Josh. "I'm suddenly not feeling well."<br /><br />"No," I said. At that moment my cell phone rang. "White Owl," I said.<br /><br />"I
need you at Police Plaza ASAP," said the gravelly voice of Captain
Winslow. Years of tobacco abuse had damaged his vocal cords, but he
hadn't lost any of his sense of justice.<br /><br />I apologized to Josh, and asked if it was my turn to pay.<br /><br />"No no," he said, his face blanching. "I'll expense this, the foundation will cover it. You better go."<br />This last was said with a strong sense of dismissal, and I headed for the door.<br /><br />I
covered the distance to police headquarters quickly, and landed on the
rooftop where Captain Winslow waited with my cup of coffee. "Glad you
could make it White Owl," he said. "Its not like you to hang out during
the daytime."<br /><br />"Occasionally, I like to see the world in a bright
light, " I smiled. "What can I do for you?" He held a thick manila
folder out to me. I took it and saw the tortured face of Effigy staring
back at me. <br /><br />"Effigy?" I said. "I stopped him two years ago at Culver's farm, remember? He was on death row for four murders and..."<br /><br />"And
because of his triple joints, he broke out of the state reformatory two
weeks ago," said Winslow. "And worse. He used the time in there to
become an expert on fear. He devoured every book in the library, took
online courses from Zenith University and proved an apt student in
chemistry, biology and psychology. Do you remember what he said at the
trial here?"<br /><br />"Something about having revenge. They all say that."<br /><br />"No. Specifically,
he said that the world would see you as the terror you are. I had the
SCU take a look around that pawn shop this morning White Owl."<br /><br />"You didn't have to do that Captain," I started, but he stopped me.<br /><br />"On the rooftop of Antonelli Transport, we found these." Winslow held up three pieces of barley straw.<br /><br />"Oh come on now, you can't believe...I mean I would have seen him or..."<br /><br />"They
were tied together on the rooftop overlooking Drake's back door. And
he's triple jointed, remember? How did you know about the break in?"<br /><br />"I saw a flash of metal in the streetlight," I said.<br /><br />"That's
great," said Winslow. "But Jefferson had matte painted tools. No
reflections. You were lured White Owl. Did anything happen?"<br /><br />I
hesitated. Finally I nodded. "I was hit with a dart. I don't think
there was anything on it, since I'm fine. But there's a tox report
waiting for me when I get home."<br /><br />"Fax me a copy—I need to know what we're dealing with." He started to back away. <br /><br />"What's wrong Captain?"<br /><br />"I...I
don't know. But right now I've got a big case of the willies. I'm
ashamed to say it...but you scare me Owl. Could you go please?" I
could tell it took every bit of his courage to stand up to me. I nodded
and said, "I'll be in touch," then flew home.<br /><br /><br />Daisy heard me
landing on the rooftop terrace and was sitting by the door waiting for
me. I opened the door and smiled, then reached down to pet
her. Suddenly the hackles on her back raised and she hissed, followed
by a keening growl. <br /><br />"Daisy?" I asked. She hissed again and
raced to the kitchen, hiding under the table. She hunkered down and
raised a menacing paw at me anytime I tried to reach out to her. I
decided that I would feed her, but I could feel her eyes glaring at me,
sensing I was a threat. I put her canned cat food into her dish, set it
down, and added water to her other dish.<br /><br />"All right, your
highness," I said. "I'm going out, so get over whatever, and come
eat." I shut the front door and glided down to Crimson's lab. The
paperwork was strewn across three tables and I spotted a Taco Mission
bag, a large soda and a bright shock of reddish hair just behind the
analyzer.<br /><br />"Tiffany?" I asked. <br /><br />"Oh my GOSH Athena! Don't
startle me like that!" Tiffany whirled and gave me a hug. But almost
as quickly she backed off, her eyes full of questions and fear.<br /><br />"Ow..Owl? What's going on with you?" she asked. <br /><br />I took a step toward her, without thinking. "I don't know—I was hoping you could tell..."<br /><br />"KEEP BACK!" The panic in her voice was noticeable but controlled. "You...you're terrifying!"<br />A visible shudder passed through her trim form.<br /><br />"So
much for improving my fan quotient," I joked grimly. As quickly and
with as little embellishment as possible, I filled her in on the dart
and what it might have meant to me. To my gratitude, she didn't flinch
and she stayed focused on the details.<br /><br />"So do you have any idea what happened?" I asked.<br /><br />"Well,
you weren't poisoned," she said. "Your metabolism would have shaken
that right out. So I'm guessing this is something that's USING your
healing to make you so scary. The analysis indicated a compound that
would increase your pheromones. I'm just not sure WHICH
pheromones." Tiffany made a face, then swallowed hard. "Though its
just a guess that it's the ones that make people afraid of you."<br /><br />"Trust
Effigy to make it that," I said. "Look even you're too scared to be
within fifteen feet of me. I can't work like this. And I definitely
can't handle a group of sixth graders at the museum tomorrow!"<br /><br />"Th...then we need to get this handled." Tiffany managed a brave face. <br /><br />"I'll get this report faxed to the lab at Police Central. Then what?" she asked.<br /><br />"Depends. How fast can you get to Decatur County?"<br /><br />"Why there?" she asked.<br /><br />"It
has the nearest barely fields to Queen City. I'm guessing Effigy is
holed up there. At least Sheriff Custis doesn't have it in for me like
Sheriff Lynch does." Tiffany nodded. <br /><br />"I'll be in touch—cheer up White Owl! We'll have this licked in no time."<br /><br />I turned to go back upstairs and heard an audible thud as Tiffany sank to the floor in relief.<br />
<br />
Tiffany allowed herself to sink to the floor, shuddering. Five minutes
later, she had pulled herself together enough to stand, and made her way
on watery legs to her closet. "I thought I was tough," she thought,
"but Theena scared the living daylights out of me. Tiffany swallowed
hard, then pulled out the almost delicate bodysuit she wore as the
Crimson Dynamo. <br /><br />She stripped out of her white blouse and
miniskirt, carefully putting them into the hamper, then stood in the
cool room, allowing the air to caress her like a lover. The nanites that
gave the Dynamo her abilities also enhanced her sensuality, so that at
one point, even the slightest touch could send Tiffany into the throes
of passion. Time and experience had tempered that though, so as the sexy
young scientist stripped away her bra and panties, she could feel her
heart racing; eager for the comfortable touch of her bodysuit.<br /><br />Tiffany
slid the suit up her legs, reveling in the seductive touch of the silky
material. The fabric melded with her body, holding her like a lover's
embrace. She zipped the bodysuit into place, then stepped into her
crimson skirt and boots.<br /><br />Before she put her mask into place, though, Tiffany called Terri Allen at the Crime Lab. <br /><br />"Terri?
This is the Crimson Dynamo. Yes I'm back and I've got the full report.
My own machines did a lot of the analysis, but I need someone to
interpret the data. Would you be willing?" Tiffany's fingers flew across
the keyboard as she attached the results to the secure e-mail. Her
finger hovered over the send key until she heard Terri agree.<br /><br />Pressing send, Tiffany added, "Thanks Terri, This means so much." <br /><br />"Well we can't have White Owl out of commission, now can we?" asked Terri.<br /><br />Crimson shot a look up at her ceiling and replied. "No...not for very long."<br /><br />"I'll have that report for you in a flash," said Terri.<br /><br />"OK,"
said Tiffany. "Send copies to Winslow and to White Owl too. I may be
incommunicado for a while." She set the cell phone back into her belt
pouch, and set the mask on her face. She felt the magnetic adhesion as
the nanites in the mask linked with her internal ones. <br /><br />The
Crimson Dynamo then stood, and went to her basement lab. She pressed a
lever behind the huge oil furnace and watched as the door into the
furnace swung open. The furnace was non functioning; Athena had
converted to a more efficient system when renovating the building. But
the old furnace hid a secret passage leading to a statue of President
Taft in Victory Park. Tiffany emerged in a copse close to the statue and
saw no one around. She kicked her jet boots into action and flew north,
toward the town of Nuxhall in Decatur County.<br /><br />At one point
Nuxhall had been a thriving town, a railroad hub and grain mill had seen
in prosperous until the 1940's. but the wars, the promises of better
jobs in nearby Zenith and Queen City, and the loss of the QCWR Railroads
had ensured the doom of the small town. Nuxhall was now almost
abandoned, with several boarded up buildings and an aging population of
farmers, who refused to let their legacy die.<br /><br />"Just the sort of
place to hole up if you don't want to be found," thought Crimson, as she
settled gently into a parking lot at the old grain elevator. She
stepped around warily, uncertain where to begin.<br /><br />"Now there's a sight you don't see every day, Chauncy."<br />"What's that Edgar?"<br />"A pretty young woman come a'droppin' outta the sky."<br /><br />The
Crimson Dynamo whirled, alarmed. On a wooden porch sat two old men with
an ancient radio on a cooler between them. Each had a brown bottle in
hand and at least three more empties lay nearby.<br /><br />"Hello there gentlemen," said Tiffany, a warm smile on her face. "I'm the Crimson Dynamo, from Queen City."<br /><br />"Well
paint me yeller an' call me a lemon," said Edgar. "I'm Edgar; an' this
here's Chauncy. What brings a big time heroine like you to a nowhere
like Nuxhall?"<br /><br />"I'm working on a case right now," said Crimson. "Have you boys been here long?"<br /><br />"Nigh onto eighty years," said Chauncy. "'N' Edgar here has been here 'bout seventy."<br /><br />"So you'd notice a stranger?"<br /><br />"We
noticed you didn't we?" The two old men shared a laugh but cut it short
when they saw the serious expression on the Crimson Dynamo's face.<br /><br />Edgar
continued. "Yeah, matter of fact, there's some strange doin's at the
old Crockett farm. Place has been abandoned for twenty years. But I seen
lights up there off an' on for the last month or so. Think that might
be what you're lookin' for?"<br /><br />Crimson crossed her arms and thought. "What did they grow?"<br /><br />"Oh Crockett was a pig man. But the last few years people been plantin' corn and barley up there."<br /><br />At 'barley' Crimson's eyes lit up. "Sounds like where I need to be looking. Where is this place?"<br /><br />"Oh you can't miss it," said Chauncy. "Follow this road 'bout two mile. Crockett's house sits on the left."<br /><br />"Thanks," said Crimson. "Have a nice night." She kicked on the jet boots and followed the road to the west.<br /><br />"OK she's gone," said Chauncy. Edgar sprung into action and pulled a microphone from the back of the old radio. <br /><br />"Boss, you're gonna have costumed company." he said, into the mike.<br /><br />A
minute later, Crimson pulled to a stop outside the Crockett house. The
name on the mailbox was faded but legible under her finger light. The
house was dark and behind it a large field stretched out for several
acres. A large barn was to the side of the house, and Crimson could make
out several gleams of light from the cracks in the walls.<br /><br />"They
aren't doing a very good job of hiding themselves," she thought. She
slipped to the dark side of the house, away from the barn, intending to
scout out the perimeter. But as she entered the side yard Crimson saw
something stretched on a post. White Owl?<br /><br />Cautiously, she
approached the figure on the gibbet, with each step her knees wavered
more. At twenty feet out, her IR lenses slipped into place and Crimson
saw the figure was cold.<br /><br />"Someone has a sick sense of humor," she
thought. "Making a scarecrow of White Owl." Crimson felt her heart
racing, though as her flight or fight reflex rose. She whirled in time
to stop the first goon, throwing him into the hideous scarecrow. He
landed with a thud.<br /><br />Alert to the attack, Crimson crouched into a
fighter's stance. A deft and accurate high kick brought another goon
down and he lay writhing on the soft earth.<br /><br />Someone grabbed her
from behind, but Crimson planted her feet and flipped forward. The goon
flew forward and knocked the fourth assailant to the ground. Crimson
stood, smiling, her scarf flapping in the breeze. "Is that all you
have?" she mocked.<br /><br />But suddenly, a chill crept up her spine. For
no reason, her body trembled, her hands began shaking uncontrollably.
Crimson felt her heart racing in terror and turned to look at the
scarecrow once more. <br /><br />It no longer hung on the gibbet. Instead
another scarecrow was walking toward the young heroine. His steps were
deliberate. He was approximately 5 and a half feet tall, and had dark
eyes. Tiffany finally saw it wasn't a scarecrow, but a man with a
horrific skin condition. His skin looked like flaps of burlap. His face
was painted to resemble a scarecrow's. He was wearing ragged jeans, a
tan leather vest and a top hat. As he drew near to the Crimson Dynamo,
she felt her body seize up and the fear drew her into a small ball.<br /><br />The
scarecrow loomed over the now helpless woman. With a heavy cane, he
bashed Crimson in the skull , toppling the mighty heroine.<br /><br />As she
struggled to maintain consciousness, a second clout caught her in the
head. The Crimson Dynamo slumped to the ground unconscious.<br /><br />"Get
her to the barn," said Effigy to his recovering henchmen. "Take her
belt, search her well and chain her to a pillar. I have plans for
her..."<br /><br />Crimson shook her head slowly from side to side, trying to clear the
cobwebs. Her knees still shuddered in a declining fear and with a half
open eye, she carefully reconnoitered her surroundings. She was
handcuffed around a thick wooden beam, one which held up the center
support beam of a large barn.<br /><br />"It's no use pretending, Crimson Dynamo," came a rasping voice. "I c'n see you're awake." <br /><br />Crimson
shrugged and raised her head. She saw her belt, scarf and skirt laying
across the barn, draped over a cow stall. Crimson shuddered when she saw
her remaining costume had been unzipped all the way down, and her ample
bosom placed on display for Effigy and his henchmen.<br /><br />"I assume
knocking women out is the only way you get some action," sniffed
Crimson, trying to regain some confidence and dignity. Effigy stepped
out of the shadows and just laughed. <br /><br />"Oh you're so right, smart
ass. Ain't a woman alive that' ud come to me willin'ly." He stepped
closer to Crimson, grabbed the lapel of her costume with one hand, and
took a full grasp of her breast in the other. "I heard you got a short
trigger when it comes to stimulus," he said.<br /><br />Crimson gasped as
the villain teased the nipple on the tip of her engorged breast. Her
back arched and despite herself, Crimson let out a throaty moan.<br /><br />"That's real nice," said Effigy. "I think I c'n conjure me up another pheromone that'll leave you perpetually wantin' me."<br /><br />"You...you bastard," gasped Crimson. "I'll never want you. And I'll put a stop to you."<br /><br />"I
don't think so, l'il lady," said Effigy. "I used your high power
handcuffs to lock you to that post. White Owl cain't break 'em, I'm
bettin' you cain't neither." He rubbed his hand across Crimson's exposed
belly, then teased the button of her exposed breast once more. Crimson
gasped again, but managed to control herself.<br /><br />Effigy moved back,
then picked up a small vial from the table he'd been standing by. "You
know what this is?" he asked Crimson. Without waiting for an answer, he
said, "This is the stuff that will bring White Owl down. Its a catalyst.
I know she has this crazy metabolism that helps her heal fast. All I
did was inject her with a l'il somethin' that'll help her put the fear
o' God inta everyone. An' in the end, EVERYONE will be afraid of
her--she'll go insane!"<br /><br />He paused for a minute, then picked up
another bottle. "I know it works, because I tried it out. An' I have an
antidote, cuz I was the test subject. But your l'il friend won't get
this.<br /><br />Crimson watched closely as Effigy slipped the bottle into
his vest pocket. Then he picked up a big needle and a bottle of alcohol,
bringing it close to the sexy, bound crimefighter.<br /><br />"This here
ain't the phereomone stuff. That's too slow. What this is," he said as
he swabbed Crimson's swollen breast with a cotton ball. "What THIS is,
is concentrated fear. Adrenaline. I'm gonna pump you with so much, your
heart'll just plumb stop from exertion. An' there's nothin' you can do
about it.<br /><br />Crimson gasped as Effigy grabbed her breast then shoved
the needle deep inside. He depressed the plunger and Crimson felt a
warmth running into her system. She also felt her heart beginning to
pump faster and her limbs get cold and watery. A scream died in her
throat, as Crimson swallowed and tried to stir her confidence and
spirit. She felt the cold sweat breaking on her body and felt herself
trembling.<br /><br />"Boo!" laughed Effigy, and Crimson flinched, ashamed.<br /><br />"Who wants to taunt her some more?" Effigy asked his men. One large fellow stood up.<br /><br />"C'mon an' get her then," said Effigy.<br /><br />"It isn't that, boss. We got company--most likely from Queen City."<br /><br />"What? How?" Effigy crossed the room and Crimson felt herself almost relax. But the jitters started right back up.<br /><br />Effigy's dark eyes scanned an electric board. "You fools! They were here before you could tell me! Where is she?"<br /><br />"Last
we knew was Chauncy and Edgar said somethin' fast an' white tore
through main steet. We lost tracking about the farmhouse."<br /><br />"White
Owl's no idiot--even if she is losing her mind. Get out there and find
her. Work in pairs, she can't sneak up on you then. And you've all got
the counter drug in your system--she won't be able to scare you."<br /><br />The
four men broke from the barn and with shotguns in hand approached the
family garden where Crimson had been captured. Two of them headed for
the highway first, to come up on White Owl from behind. The other two
approached stealthily from the barn.<br /><br />"Where do you think she is, Len?" asked Jasper. <br /><br />"I don't know. But she's bound to be around here." A heavy thud sounded in the shadow of the farmhouse.<br /><br />"I'm
gonna check it out," said Len. He pumped a shell and Jasper stood back
to cover him. A minute passed, then Jasper saw a shadowy figure waving
from the door. Smiling, Jasper headed for the door and was hit with a
heavy thud on the jaw. He caught a steel sphere in his hand, looking
dumbly at it before dropping unconscious to the ground. The shadowy
figure dragged him into the farmhouse.<br /><br />Fargo and Jon trotted up
the far side of the farmhouse, warily. Though they hadn't seen anything,
they both had the feeling of being watched. A silver orb landed between
them and the two men jumped. They looked at the globe for just a
second, then the phosphorus ignited, filling the dark night with the
blaze of brightest sunshine. Fargo dropped his shotgun and took off
running, slamming headfirst into an old oak tree. He dropped, stunned.
Jon stood his ground and blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. A
moment or three later, he could see well enough to pick a path around
the house.<br /><br />He entered the large field where the corn stalks still
rustled in the soft wind. The White Owl scarecrow still hung on her
gibbet. Jon sighed in relief, then tripped over something at his feet.
"Damn you Fargo," he said, picking himself from the ground. As he did,
he noticed that he had tripped on the scarecrow's prone form.<br /><br />"But
if the scarecrow is here, then.." A Steel Fist in a silken glove
clipped Jon on the jaw, with enough force to stun the man into
unconsciousness.<br />*****<br />I dragged the four men back into the farm
house; securing them in different rooms and using the duct tape I'd
found to insure the silence. My total time in taking them down had been
less than five minutes--a total of fifteen after restraining them.
"Effigy should be getting justifiably nervous," I thought. I looked down
at the glowing red tracer Tiffany had installed in both our costumes. I
knew she was alive--at least I prayed it; but in either case Effigy was
going down.<br /><br />One advantage to being White Owl is silent flight. I
soared high above the farmhouse, then spotted the lights in the barn. I
wasn't sure if Effigy had kept a reserve of men or not, so I carefully
picked my way around. I saw the Hay door open on the far side and I
glided in, landing in the upper barn without a sound. Effigy's back was
to me, he was looking for his men. <br /><br />"Where are those idiots?" he
muttered. I could see Crimson in the middle of the barn, the High
Strength cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Her costume was in a huge
disarray, but aside from a nervous shudder, she seemed all right.<br /><br />Effigy
turned back toward Crimson and stopped. "I'll give them three more
minutes," he said. He reached into his hat's band and pulled out a pack
of Laramies. As he flicked his lighter, I threw a paint ball. Normally
I'll use them for windshields, but it was about all I had left. The ball
hit Effigy's hand, shattering on his wrist and spewing yellow green
paint on his arm and vest. The lighter whirled out of his hand and hit
the floor. As Effigy followed the trajectory back toward the upper
level, I flew in, landing a haymaker (what else) to his skeleton like
jaw.<br /><br />Effigy hit the floor and looked back. A crooked smile
crossed his face. "Been expectin' you," he rasped. "Feelin' a little
LONELY? Look what you're doin' to your partner there." He pointed over
my shoulder and I spared a glance at Crimson. Her eyes were wide with
terror and the sweat on her body told me she was heading for shock if I
didn't help her soon. Still I couldn't allow Effigy to get away. He was
nearly back on his feet when I leg tackled him.<br /><br />"Damn you Owl!
Leave me BE!" he spat. "Why aren't you scared? I put a ton o' that
pheremone on me!" I could feel him trembling under my arms though. "You
shouldn't be able to think, much less walk an' fight."<br /><br />"Don't
worry," I said. "You won't have to think about it much longer." I
slammed a fist into his jaw and felt his body go limp in my arms. I
turned back to Crimson, and slowly approached. Crimson's eyes grew wider
with fear at each step.<br /><br />"N..n..no!" she said. "K..Keep away!"<br /><br />"Steady
Crimson," I said. "Its me, White Owl. I'm your friend, your best
friend, remember?" My voice was steady, calm and soft, just like I'd
learned in my riding classes. Crimson bucked, but I could see her
fighting to keep her sanity and to master her fear. I took that tack.<br /><br />"You're
the Crimson Dynamo," I said. "You've worked with me several times. I'm
not scary--you've defeated Dr Kotetsu, and Hypnota, remember? You're a
heroine! You've saved lives, because you were brave! Be brave now."<br /><br />I
reached out, and touched the keypad for the HD Cuffs. There was a beep,
then they fell free from Crimson's hands and feet. Crimson hugged me,
trembling. <br /><br />"Shhhhh! It's ok," I said.<br /><br />"No its not," she
answered. "Effigy has your antidote--and he's slipping out." I turned to
see Effigy waving from the front of the barn. A five gallon can sat
beside him.<br /><br />"So long ladies! I'll see you in hell!" He touched
the lighter to the ground and ran. A fire blazed up and the acrid smell
of burning Kerosene filled the room. I grabbed Crimson and flew us
straight out of the barn. Then I gave her my phone. "Call Sheriff
Custis, I'll get Effigy" She nodded and took off to complete the call.<br /><br />Effigy
ran, but badly. The disease that marred his skin so much had also
affected his gait, and I caught up with him in 200 yards. He fussed when
I brought him down, but was smug as the sheriff and his deputies
arrived. Crimson stayed with the collar while I saw to putting out the
barn, for obvious reasons. When Crimson came up to me though, there was a
scowl on her face.<br /><br />"I'm afraid Effigy broke the bottle with the cure," she said.<br /><br />"You mean I'm doomed to go crazy? To never again have my cat or friends speak to me?"<br /><br />She nodded grimly. Behind her, a corpulent man in County Brown and Gray strode up. "White Owl?" he asked.<br /><br />I nodded. <br /><br />"Sheriff
Wil Custis," he said, stepping close and holding out a large beefy
hand. "Thanks for the tips that brought us here. You're quite an
inspiration to a lot of my deputies. And to me, but don't let my wife
hear that." I took his hand and shook it as we both enjoyed a hearty
laugh.<br /><br />The next day, Tiffany was comparing the charts of my blood
test with previous one. She shook her pretty auburn hair and frowned.
"I don't get it." We were sitting in the sunny living room of my upper
floor apartment.<br /><br />"What?" I asked.<br /><br />"There's no trace of the hyper pheremones," she said. "Its almost like you shorted them out."<br /><br />"Maybe my healing factor?" I asked. "Or perhaps a counter pheremone?"<br /><br />She nodded. "Still I won't feel good until Alyssa can check this out. She's coming tomorrow."<br /><br />It was my turn to be surprised. "What? How did you..."<br /><br />"I invited her. She needed some time off with the both of us. By seeing YOU she can expense it."<br /><br />"You
win," I said. "I'll see her tomorrow then." I heard a gentle "mreow"
and with that word of warning, 2 pounds of furry white cat landed in my
lap. "But I really doubt she'll find anything either."<br /><br />The endAthenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-51317271516671279402013-07-28T16:58:00.000-04:002013-07-28T16:58:14.205-04:00The Festival of Fear<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Meadowbrook, Ohio, about an hour east of Queen City<br /><br />“Sixty four
cubed is 262,144” said the comely redhead. Her copper tresses shone in
the single spotlight as she hit her mark time and again on the wooden
platform that served as a stage. “Come on people, this is easy, give me
something difficult.”<br /><br />Her audience, mostly polite, though
slightly intoxicated festival goers laughed. One man called out, “All
right Sister Brain. What's the seventh commandment?”<br /><br />Marcie Braun
smiled. “Thou shalt not commit adultery!” She smiled and added, “And
lusting after a woman is adultery too—Better watch those eyes sir.” The
crowd laughed and the man turned red, then headed for the tent flap.<br /><br />“What's the capital of Latvia?” <br /> “Riga”<br />“Who held the highest all time batting average?”<br />
“Tip O'Neill of the St Louis Browns hit .485 in 1887. In the Modern
Era, it would be Rogers Hornsby batting .424 for the Cardinals in 1924.”<br />“When did Burgundy get absorbed into France?”<br /> “With the death of Charles the Brash in 1477”<br />“Why is a Raven like a writing desk?”<br /> “Because Poe wrote on both”<br />“What's the airspeed velocity of an unladen European Swallow?”<br /> “Approximately 11 meters a second or 24 miles an hour.”<br /><br />For
the next hour, Marcie held the crowd spellbound with her witty repartee
and encyclopedic knowledge. It was on the last question though, that
she was stopped.<br /><br />“Who's the smartest woman in the world? Sister Brain or White Owl?”<br /><br />Marcie
shot the questioner a withering glare. “White Owl has a limited
knowledge, where mine covers all subjects. She may be cleverer than
most, but I think I would win in the end.”<br /><br />“Good to know Sister Brain. Aren't you going to Queen City soon?”<br /><br />“Why yes, we'll be doing two festivals up there over the course of three weeks.” She held up a hand.<br />“Now no more questions. I need to turn the show over to my brother; the illustrious Dr Brawn.<br /><br />She
stepped to one side and a small man with a dark beard stepped up. Four
and a half feet tall, yet Dr Brawn lived up to his name, breaking
chains, lifting heavy objects and challenging all comers to any test of
strength. His showstopping act though was when he bent a quarter between
his two thumbs.<br /><br />The crowd politely oohed and ahhed through the show, then just as politely left.<br /><br />Dr
Brawn took his bows, then headed across the St Veronica parking lot
towards a deluxe Airstream trailer. Some teenage toughs stepped out from
between the beer tent and the poker tent and blocked his path.<br /><br />“You
ain't so tough. What happened? Did you get the muscles an' your sister
get the looks, brains and height?” His buddies cackled, this was funny
stuff.<br /><br />Michael Braun sighed. Ever since he learned in sixth grade that he wouldn't get taller than 4'8” <br />he
had struggled with bullies of all stripes. His parents had wisely
channeled him into martial arts for the discipline, and the self defense
skills. Michael had begun weight lifting two years later, as a resident
in the juvenile court systems. He took a calming breath and said, “You
really don't want to make me angry. Please step aside.”<br /><br />“You hear
that guys? Little man thinks he's the Incredible Hulk or something.
Tell you what short stuff. You give me a hundred bucks and maybe we'll
let you past.” The punk stood with his arms crossed, expectantly.<br /><br />Michael
smiled. “You were warned,” he said, settling into a fighting crouch. A
few moments later, all four boys were out cold on the ground. The deputy
on duty came running, and asked what happened..<br /><br />“I ...” began Michael.<br /><br />“These
boys were impeding his progress, and attacked him. He defended
himself,” said Father Ross, the parish priest. “I saw it from the beer
tent.”<br /><br />Three other witnesses, including two of the boys' fathers
agreed with Father Ross, and Michael was allowed to go on to his
trailer. He frowned and looked at his sister, “When do we quit this
racket, Marcie?”<br /><br />“Very soon Michael. After Queen City. I want to show up a snooty little brainy heroine first.”<br /><br />“Do you think its wise to take her on?”<br /><br />Marcie
stretched out on the sofa, her coppery hair sweeping across her elegant
breasts, “Maybe not wise but necessary. We've been playing the cow
towns too long. Queen City is our fist big city, and I don't think their
cops are any smarter than the rubes we've been dealing with. But a
superheroine? <br />And one who says she's really smart. I want this and
need this. Besides, there's a wonderful supply of money coming into the
treasury substation while we're at St George's. I want to get our hands
on it. Then we can retire—no more shows, I promise.”<br /><br />Martin
harrumphed and after getting a beer, sat in a chair looking at the small
television. Marcie came over and began massaging his shoulders. “Poor
dear, you're so tight,” she said.<br /><br />“I'm just worried,” he said.<br /><br />“Well
would this make you feel any better?” said Marcie. She reached into her
silk robe's pocket and withdrew a small old looking book.<br /><br />“What's that?” asked Michael.<br /><br />“The Bay Psalter “ One of the rarest books in the world, worth a small fortune.”<br /><br />“But how? Where?”<br /><br />“While you were onstage, Michael, I took it from the house of Guillermo Fiorini.”<br /><br />“Isn't he a gangster?” asked Michael, a little frightened.<br /><br />“I
believe he is. And he lives in Queen City. This is from his country
estate—about four miles from here. And no one was home tonight. A clean
job and he won't know he was robbed for at least three weeks. Now if I
can pull this off, then White Owl should pose no problems.”<br /><br />Michael nodded an agreement. But he still slept uneasily.<br />******<br />The
festival board meeting lasted a lot longer than I had expected, But as
we left the parish house Father Timothy stopped me. “How are you doing
Athena,” he asked privately. <br /><br />“I'm doing much better, Father,” I
replied. “Thank you for recommending Rebecca Allen to me; she's been a
wonderful counselor and become a good friend.” I brushed my hair back
and frowned at my priest.<br /><br />“I'm concerned about the carnival group
we've engaged this year Father. I don't see why we didn't engage the
Grandetti's like we have for the last ten years.”<br /><br />“You were out
of town when we discussed this, I believe. The Grandetti's are a fine
organization, but Mr Grandetti was booked in all three of the weekends
we had available for the festival. Besides, the Braun shows come highly
recommended by Old Man Grandetti, himself. And they were offering the
same terms. I can't tell you how much that means to the festival. We pay
them one rate, and then the festival gets all the proceeds. And a lot
of good can come from that.” Father Tim smiled and I caved in.<br /><br />“All right. I'm convinced. I'm sure you've done the due diligence, Father. I'll put the suspicions behind me.” <br /><br />He
laughed. “In your line of business, Athena, I'd be surprised if you
weren't suspicious. But if you're really WANTING to check them out, then
I believe they have a show this week at St Clements in West Bend.”<br /><br />As
I drove home, my cell phone chirped—a special ring meaning White Owl
was needed. I picked up the phone and said, “What can I do for you
Captain?”<br /><br />“How soon can you get here?” he asked. I stared at the clock on my dashboard. <br /><br />“I can be there in 20 minutes,” I said. <br /><br />“OK I'll have the usual ready. Meet me on the roof.”<br /><br />I
pulled into the parking slot, and raced up the stairs. I knew Tiffany
was still in Megopolis with Ultra Woman; the two of them seemed quite
taken with each other. But I decided I'd brief her when she returned
tomorrow.<br /><br />I petted Daisy, then slipped into my original leotard,
as the heat was close to unbearable. At least this way my neck would be
cooler as I flew. I stepped out onto the balcony and lifted of into the
night sky. I banked south to the river, then with a quick wingover, I
headed west to Police Headquarters.<br />Captain Winslow met me on the
roof, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. I smiled and took a deep
drink of the coffee. It was heavenly. <br /><br />“Oh this is nice,” I said. “Definitely not Police Issue.”<br /><br />“No
its not,” said the captain. He nodded toward the street corner. “A new
place called Bagels and Brew just opened. And they're making a killing
on the police.” He smiled, then got down to business.<br /><br />“I just had a call from Guillermo Fiorini,” he said.<br /><br />“Isn't he a lieutenant in the Cafazzo mob?” I asked. “Seems strange he'd contact you.”<br /><br />“Well
we do protect and serve everyone. And he's never been implicated or
convicted of anything more than a parking ticket.” Winslow was seething;
the Cafazzos ran most of the organized crime in Queen City and the
police were having a hard time driving them out of town. <br /><br />“Anyhow,
Fiorini came in claiming he was robbed. His house in Meadowbrook was
broken into last week and some book of his was stolen. Though I have a
hard time seeing Fiorini singing songs.”<br /><br />“What are you talking about, Captain?” I asked.<br /><br />“That
book—he said it was some sort of psalm book. Anyhow, Meadowbrook is out
of my jurisdiction, and I told Fiorini. He wasn't too happy. He said he
didn't want the local cops out there—he didn't trust them. Then he
suggested you. Said you were an honest dealer.”<br /><br />I frowned, trying to conceal a smile. “Well I suppose I can look into it a bit. Is he still in Meadowbrook?”<br /><br />“Not now; he said he'd be spending the night here. And he said he's expecting you.”<br /><br />I finished my coffee and nodded. “All right then. His place is in West Bend isn't it?”<br /><br />Winslow
smiled. “Yep, big estate overlooking the river. Be careful Owl, between
the Cafazzos and the Angel gang you've made a lot of enemies.”<br /><br />“Well tonight I hope to make a few friends, Captain.” I thanked him for the coffee and flew west along the river.<br />
<br />
***<br />
“So what was it like?” Tiffany asked again for the eleventh time. She
was curled comfortably on my couch, with Daisy rubbing against her legs.
Tiffany was scratching the cat on the chin and Daisy was elated at the
attention.<br /><br />“Fiorini's house? It was nice; a mansion in the
truest sense. Fiorini is a collector of rare art, you know. So I saw
some Degas, some Renoirs and at least one Raphael; though I think it was
a clever copy. Giorgio Fiorini is more or less retired now I guess.<br /><br />“No guns? No evidence we could bust him on?” Tiffany was all eager for action.<br /><br />“Not
this time, chica. Just a nice upper class home in a gated community. I
asked a few questions, then suggested to him he might keep his ear to
the ground about someone selling his book. After all, its very rare and
most reputable dealers won't touch it. But...”<br /><br />“But Fiorini knows some less than reputable dealers,”finished Tiffany, with a smile. So when do we make our move?”<br /><br />“We
don't, not against Fiorini. At least not yet as we have no proof of
anything he's done wrong. In fact, we're supposed to be helping him
clear this up,”<br /><br />“You are anyway. I say once a criminal, always...”<br /><br />“What about Mr. M?” I asked with the hint of a smile.<br /><br />“H..he..that's
different!” she said with no further explanation. Hastily changing the
subject, she asked, “So what's the plan for tonight?”<br /><br />“For
White Owl? A night off hopefully. Captain Winslow said the city has been
pretty quiet of late. So I thought I'd drive back to the west side
tonight.”<br /><br />“Back to Fiorini's?” she asked.<br /><br />“No, to
St Clement's festival. I want to do some homework on the group St George
has hired for its festival in two weeks. Want to come?”<br /><br />Tiffany
did her best not to pout, but disappointment was evident on her face.
“I don't think so. I have some work at the lab that I've been putting
off. It should be quiet tonight, so I'll put in a few hours there. Then
maybe I'll patrol.”<br />
<br />“Let me know if you find anything you can't handle,” I said.<br /><br />“When has that ever happened?” she laughed.<br />*****<br /><br />I
arrived an hour or so after the festival started and began walking
through the small midway. I could recognize which tents were run by the
parish guild and which were part of Braun's shows. The church's tents
were dark blue and plain, as they would often serve for outdoor weddings
and funerals in addition to the festival. Braun's on the other hand
were bright orange and white striped, and generally in worse repair. I
wandered past the poker and bingo tents, and found the fish fry. I
grabbed a sandwich and beer, then sat watching the crowds. People were
walking away from the tents with prizes, and none of the games seemed
rigged in favor of either the house or the patrons.<br /><br />"Forgive
my doubts, Father Timothy,” I said as I finished my sandwich. I was
headed back to the bingo tables when I heard the pop pop sound of small
caliber gunfire. Sensing I might be needed, I raced in that direction,
only to find a small target shooting stand.<br /><br />“Well this is something new,” I said. I wandered up to the counter. “What's the game?” I asked.<br /><br />The
bored young man taking the money held up an Ace of Diamonds. “For three
dollars you get 5 bullets. If you shoot all the red out of the center
of the card, you win a prize.” His hand indicated a sizable selection of
large stuffed animals. I nodded and put a $5 bill on the counter. The
young man scooped it up and offered me a short rifle.<br /><br />“It's
all loaded,” he said. “All you have to do is cock the handle like this
between each shot.” He cocked the gun once then handed it to me. <br /><br />I
took it and sighted the Ace. The gun was small, almost like a child's
toy; but I could feel the weight of it. I drew my bead and a deep breath
then squeezed the trigger. The gun had no kick to it and I saw a mall
hole appear to the upper left side of the diamond. I adjusted my stance
and squeezed the last four in quick succession. When the card was pulled
back though, I saw I had failed to shoot the diamond completely. <br /><br />“Sorry ma'am, but that was some good shooting,” said the young man.<br />
<br />“Thank
you,” I said, wondering where I would have put a giant stuffed lion
anyhow. I was about to go back out when I saw one other thing that
looked out of place in a church carnival...a sideshow. Granted it looked
like it only had two acts, but I was intrigued.<br /><br />I paid my
admission and found a seat near the front. A moment later, and the
lights dimmed. A woman in a skin tight blue costume stepped onto the low
platform that served as a stage. “Welcome to an exhibition of
strength-the strength of brain and brawn. I am Sister Brain, the most
intelligent woman in the world if my press clippings are to be believed.
Am I? You determine. Ask me anything. If I don't know it, then we'll
pay you $50. That's fair isn't it? Who has a question for me?”<br /><br />A
young boy in the back of the room stood up before his mother could stop
him, “What's the most stolen book from a library?” he shouted.<br /><br />“No need to be so loud,” said Sister Brain. “And surprisingly, the answer is the Bible.” A smattering of applause followed.<br /><br />“Who was the first woman in space?” <br /><br />“Valentina Tereshkova, from the Soviet Union, in April 1963 .”<br />
<br />An elderly nun smiled, "And what's the chemical element with the shortest name, dear?" <br /> <br />Sister Brain smiled. "I paid attention to my teachers, sister. That would be Tin."<br /><br />"Sister Brain, what's the largest freshwater lake in the world?"<br /><br />Sister Brain scowled a moment. "That would be Lake Baikal in Russia."<br /><br />I cleared my throat. "That's not correct," I said. "It's Lake Superior."<br /><br />Sister
Brain cocked an eyebrow at me. "Oh really? Lake Baikal is the world's
deepest lake and contains 20% of the world's freshwater reserves. So by
volume..."<br /><br />"But not in area," I replied. "In that case Superior
is the largest freshwater lake in the world. Even Lake Victoria dwarfs
Baikal in size. I'd say you owe the gentleman fifty dollars."<br /><br />The
audience stood in stunned silence as Sister Brain frowned. Then she
pointed at the young man who asked the question. "Well sir, it appears I
was wrong. See me backstage and I'll make certain you're paid." She
shot me another hard glance.<br /><br />"I don't know who you are, but you're good." she said.<br /><br />"Athena Nikos, archeologist and world traveller," I said with a gentle smile. Sister Brain's nostrils flared. <br /><br />"Athena? Greek I assume?"<br /><br />I nodded. "We're hosting your show in two weeks at my parish. I wanted to get a preview."<br /><br />"And what's your assesment?"<br /><br />"I like it. I think you'll be a hit at St George." I waved goodbye, feeling her cold eyes burning into the back of my neck.<br />*****<br />The fair wound down at midnight, and Monica grumbled at her brother Michael, as he sat in his chair in their trailer.<br /><br />"She
was so smug, so condescending. 'I'm an archeologist and world
traveller'" she mimicked. "God, I HATE being upstaged. And after these
last two hits, we never will be again."<br /><br />"So remind me again why we need to pull this tonight?"<br /><br />"Because
its Friday Night. STAR is going to be practically empty. Those eggheads
go home to family, or mistresses, or their boats or whatever. The
experiments shut down, the labs are not heavily guarded. And it's the
weekend guards, not the regulars. So they shouldn't be as diligent. And
finally..." Monica pulled a large cannister from under her bed. "They're
going to be awfully mellow." <br /><br />"What's this?" aked Michael.<br /><br />"Just
hook it to the air intak valve here," Monica pointed on the schematic
of STAR she had illegally uploaded from the building's website. "Wait
ten minutes, then go in."<br /><br />*****<br />Tiffany stretched, feeling the
kinks in her spine popping as she arched her back. The nanite research
was tedious, but she was trying to be thorough. She was grateful that
White Owl had used her pull with Virgil Coleman to get her this
position, though she knew her own credentials stood up as well. She
looked at the large digital clock on her wall...1:34.<br /><br />Tiffany
drew a deep breath and smiled. She shook her head, trying to focus her
thoughts but wasn't having any luck with that. "Whoa, I'm fuzzier headed
than I thought." She went to her small refrigerator and pulled a
bottled water from the shelf. As she opened the bottle, she heard a soft
boom from the other end of the floor. <br /><br />Sensing trouble, Tiffany
slipped into her catsuit and zipped the red skirt into place. She
buckled on her belt, then affixed the mask to the magnetic nanite
interface. In less than a minute, Tiffany Johnson was gone, and the
Crimson Dynamo stood in her place. She hurtled down the hallway toward
the sonics lab and skidded to a halt in the R and D section. <br /><br />A
door stood blasted off its hinges, remnants of some plastic explosive
still hanging loose. Inside the room, Tiffany spotted a small figure.
She stepped into the room and put her balled fists on her trip waist.<br /><br />"I'm sorry sir, but this lab is off limits without a pass. Can I see yours?"<br /><br />Michael turned to look at the interfering voice. "Jeepers, another costumed chick? Who are you supposed to be?"<br /><br />Crimson
giggled at the funny little man. "I'm your nightmare," She swept across
the room, then swung a roundhouse kick at the man's head. He ducked
under it, soming up with two fists and hitting the buxom crimefighter in
the solar plexus.<br /><br />"Whuff!" Tiffany staggered back , stunned by the force of the blow, but the armor of her catsuit absorbed most of the blow.<br /><br />"You
have a powerful punch for a little guy," she commented, As the man
swung again, Crimson blocked the punch, then swung through, clipping the
small man on the chin. He fell backward, grabbing at the lab table.
Crimson grabbed a chair and flung it at the man, hitting him as he came
to his feet.. He was thrown back again, hitting his head on a cabinet in
the Sonics Lab. He slumped to the floor, his head lolling then resting
on his chest. Crimson looked at him, then back at the open vault. She
smiled, still slightly intoxicated by whatever was in the air. She began
gathering up papers, and didn't hear the man stealthily sneak up on
her...<br /><br />BWAHMMM!!! Stars shot through the Crimson Dynamo's eyes as
they rolled up into her head. She groaned, struggling to get back to
her feet. The lab chair cracked across her head one more time and the
dominoed daredevil dropped to the floor, unconscious. Michael pulled
himself to his full height, grabbed the case he was after and ran from
the room...<br />
<br />
“I don't understand, Theena,” said Tiffany, as she held an ice pack to
the back of her head. The nanites infesting her body had already done
most of the work toward healing her; the ice pack was an affectation.
“Why didn't Wee Man want to grope me? Why did he let me go?”<br /><br />“Consider
the facts Tiffany. You were an unexpected factor in his robbery. Add to
it that the guards—slower and duller than usual, but still on call;
were on their way. As it was, you were lucky to scramble back to your
lab and get back into your lab gear. How did you explain the goose egg?”<br /><br />“Oh
I told them I clonked my head on a table after dropping and chasing my
pencil. As dull as they were, they bought it. Even helped me down to my
car. Though I'm certain I'll get some comments about being clumsy in the
next few days.”<br /><br />I sat back on Tiffany's couch this time. “I'm sorry you didn't get the guy Tiffany. What did he take?”<br /><br />“An
experimental ultrasonic cannon. Supposedly it would be useful for
punching through cave walls, undersea mining, that sort of thing. I
don't know why he would have wanted something like that. Man who would
have thought such a small guy could be so strong? I ache all over.”<br /><br />“Wait; you said your attacker was about five feet tall?”<br /><br />“Yeah, with stringy hair and a beard. Wiry guy too; since I found a cable outside the sonics lab going up to the roof.”<br /><br />My mind was calculating, but I didn't want to believe the answer. “I think I may have an idea,” I said.<br /><br />“Oh?” said Tiffany.<br /><br />“Yeah, but it may have to wait until next Friday to get an answer.”<br /><br />The
rest of the week went quickly, but there was no sign of the missing
Sonic Blaster, and most of the trouble in Queen City was minor league
stuff; muggings, street crime, and so forth. Tiffany remained
tight--itching for action and checking all the sources that either of us
had on the streets.<br /><br />Even so Tiffany was surprised when I told her where I thought the sonic blaster would be used.<br /><br />"The
Federal Reserve depository will be getting a supply of cash on
Wednesday night. Since Friday is the First of the month, the banks need a
ready supply of cash for government checks and paychecks."<br /><br />"Won't the security be really tight?" asked Tiffany.<br /><br />"Yes, but I think these theives are smart enought to avoid it. Would WE have trouble getting past it?"<br /><br />Tiffany put a gloved had to her chin. "Maybe in the planning phases, but no, we'd bypass everything and get in and out quick."<br /><br />"Exactly, and I think these thieves are like that too. I also think they're related to the Fiorini robbery."<br /><br />"You know who they are, don't you."<br /><br />"I
know who I suspect," I replied. "But I don't have hard evidence." I
tossed a manilla folder on Tiffany's coffee table and she scooped it up.<br /><br />"Sister
Brain and Dr Brawn? Of Braun's shows?" she said. "Look Athena, I know
you told me you didn't want them at your festival but aren't you tilting
at windmills here?"<br /><br />"Just read, Tiffany."<br /><br />"Michael Braun
has quite a record," she said, leafing through the folder. "But its
mostly petty assaults; not surprising for a guy who's only about 5 feet
tall."<br /><br />"I know, but there's still something I don't trust."<br /><br />Tiffany sighed. "All right. The money comes in Wednesday night and is moved Thursday. So where do we come in?"<br /><br />"We wait Thursday. I think they'll move then."<br /><br />Thursday
Night we were situated on the rooftop of the Federal Courthouse in
downtown Queen City. We counted nine armored cars going into the parking
decks and waited. Thirty minutes later, eight cars came out.<br /><br />"Move in," I said. "They're robbing the place."<br /><br />I
swooped into the alleyway and up to the remaining armored car. Inside,
the two guards lay unconscious and bound. Three more guards lay strewn
on the conrete pad. There was no sign of any other motion.<br /><br />"Be
careful," said Crimson, drawing her Ion disruptor. Stealthily we padded
through the door to a control room. The door was open and more guards
were strewn on the floor.<br /><br />"Wow, that's some damage," I said. Crimson knelt next to one guard. He had shaggy brown hair, and seemed shorter than most.<br /><br />"This
one isn't a guard," said Crimson, turning her attention to me. I looked
as the guard raised a kubaton and smacked my partner on the head.<br /><br />"Look
out!" I called too late. I raced across the room where Crimson was
getting herself off the floor. With a swift boot, I kicked the fake
guard, then watched in dismay as he rolled, bounced and came to his feet
in a fighting position.<br /><br />"Come get me pigeon" He shouted.<br /><br />"White Owl, No!" I heard behind me. I whirled and Sister Brain stood there, pointing a gun at me.<br /><br />"Oh come on," I said. "Surely you could do better than a gun?"<br /><br />She
aimed low, then depressed the trigger. In my lower regions I felt a
rumbling, my sex stimulated. I felt my knees turning inward and my hand
reached toward my crotch.<br /><br />"Wh..what the hell are you doing?" I
said, feeling my thoughts and intellect racing away. Behind me, Doctor
Brawn clubbed me with his Kubaton. I dropped to my knees, groggy, but
managed to rally.<br /><br />"You can't do that to White Owl," said Crimson,
diving at the little man's feet. She dropped Dr Brawn to the ground and
the two of them began to wrestle. <br /><br />I got to my feet, shakily, as
Sister Brain strode to me. She grabbed my hair. "I am Sister Brain,
White Owl. I'm the smartest woman in the world, and I'm here to prove to
you that your time is over."<br /><br />"I don't think so, Sister," I said,
driving a hard elbow into her ribs. Sister Brain groaned, then released
my hair. I pivoted, eager to follow up, when she pointed the sonic gun
at me. Once again, the rumble built up in my sex, then intensified. <br /><br />"Its
so easy White Owl--you're completely helpless with my new toy." I
looked for help, and saw Crimson was still grappling with Dr Brawn.<br /><br />"I think we have some unfinished business, red," he said, cupping Crimson's breast through her body suit. <br />I saw Crimson bite her lip then arch her back as her nanites responded to the sexual stimulation.<br /><br />"Do
you need some help, brother?" asked Sister Brain. She trained the sonic
blaster at Crimson, and I saw my partner being to writhe at the extreme
stimulation. Brawn managed to put a sleeper hold on Crimson at this
point and began to choke her out.<br /><br />Brain turned the sonic blaster
at me once more, and I felt a wave of euphoria crash against me--then it
felt like one hundred jackhammers were pummeling my loins and then my
head. I staggered forward and dropped to the ground unconscious.<br /><br />"Let's get them out of here," said Brain...<br />
<br />
I don't know how long I was unconscious. I don't recall much of anything
regarding the passage of time, but I know that I roused several times,
only to have a thick pad of foul smelling stuff placed tightly over my
mouth and nose. Once; and maybe more than once, I felt a heavy club
against the back of my head as well.<br /><br />When I regained my
senses, I was leaning against a heavy wooden post with my hands shackled
firmly above my head. My feet were similarly restrained and I was
finding it hard to try and squirm free.<br /><br />“There's no way for
you to find leverage, White Owl,” I heard a sinister voice hiss. I
rolled my head toward the sound and instantly regretted it. The drugs
and the beatings had taken their toll. Squinting one eye, I saw Sister
Brain standing in front of me. In her hand she held my tool belt
and...my costume?<br /><br />“Lovely fabric,” she smirked. “Soft, shiny
and sensuous on one hand, yet impervious to bullets. I have some friends
who would love to get their hands on this. And these weapons; so
clever. You must have felt terribly bright conceiving them.”<br /><br />“Who..what?” I stammered.<br /><br />“Oh
ho, the bird has a tongue,” she teased. “I told you dearie, I'm Sister
Brain, the smartest woman in the world. And with your death, I'll seal
my place in destiny.”<br /><br />“You've gone crazy,” I said.<br /><br />“Oh
I don't think so. You already figured out my plan once. It would only
be a matter of time until you managed to come after me again; and
possibly win. The wise thing to do is eliminate my opponent.”<br /><br />To
my left I heard a by now familiar groan. I looked over to see Crimson
Dynamo, similarly undressed and bound to another post. “Let her go,” I
demanded. “And I'll submit to whatever you have planned for me.”<br /><br />Sister
Brain smiled. “I could do that I suppose; but you costumed types are
really wearying in your relentless pursuits. So I think I'll kill you
both; to insure your silences and my getaway.”<br /><br />“It must make
you feel really unsuccessful,” I said. “To be holed up in a lousy
fleatrap carnival, with your immense brainpower. Why this, and not the
lab or lecture route?”<br /><br />“Because my brother Michael couldn't
stay out of trouble; he had to drift. But I couldn't bear the thought of
him alone in the world. He's strong, but not terribly swift.” She
couldn't resist, and I felt the sonic cannon's soft caress against my
thighs once more.<br /><br />“Oooooh!” I purred, feeling the sweat
trickling down my breasts. Summertime in Queen City is exceedingly warm.
I heard Sister Brain laugh.<br /><br />“Oh how the citizens of this
city would laugh if they knew how easily their precious protectors were
taken down. You're really quite the sexually deprived little things
aren't you?' She placed the sonic gun between my breasts and let it run.
I shuddered, awash in pleasure and shame as my body responded to the
exciting tingle. I tried to buck, but the restraints at my ankles held
tight. My back arched, and I felt the raw wood cutting into the skin of
my back. Sister Brain laughed.<br /><br />“And as repressed as you are,
your little friend here is even MORE given to stimulation.” Without
moving a step, she pointed the cannon at Crimson Dynamo, and I saw
Tiffany's eyes widen. A husky moan escaped from her lips as the nanites
in her system became even more hyperactive. She backed against the post
as well, and I could see her breasts swelling with the stimulation.<br /><br />“And that's on the lowest setting,” bragged Sister Brain. “But I'm growing tired of this. Its time we see your real faces.”<br /><br />She
stepped over to the Crimson Dynamo and tilted her head up. Tiffany was
still burbling in pleasure from the sonic stimulation, and with her
hands above her head, was unable to offer much resistance. Pausing
dramatically, Sister Brain pulled at the Crimson mask. I could see the
skin pulling back, remembering the magnetic attraction was how it was
affixed. When she pulled it free, though, I saw the scowl of the
villainess.<br /><br />“What is this!” she demanded. Beneath the Crimson mask, was a black painted face, in the same style as Tiffany's mask. I smiled.<br /><br />“Looks like she was too smart for the smartest woman,” I mocked.<br /><br />“That
may be, White Owl. But what about you?” She reached and yanked at mine.
I felt the gentle ooze as my own face paint settled over my eyes.
Sister Brain glowered at me. <br /><br />“I should have known,” she
said. “Your little friend isn't smart enough to have thought of this on
her own.” She stared intently into my eyes though, then grabbed my chin.
I reared back but the post and chains kept me from going anywhere.
Sister Brain smiled then. <br /><br />“But I don't need to see your full
face now, do I? Miss Athena Nikos, archaeologist and world traveller I
believe.” I gasped in astonishment. Sister Brain laughed, “I rarely
forget a face. Its the blessing of an eidetic memory.”<br /><br />I decided it was time to take control. “So what's the ultimate plan? What are you going to do with us?”<br /><br />“With you? Nothing. You're going to die, its really that simple.”<br /><br />“And what do you get out of it?”<br /><br />“Power,
money, aand the opportunity to quit this 'fleatrap carnival' and see
the world as a power broker. I have your secrets, your identity, your
costumes and equipment and the ability to out think just about anyone.
I'm certain there will be other secrets your cell phone will reveal to
me. Its only a matter of time from here.”<br /><br />I pulled at the
chains, testing the tensile strength. As the sex urge declined, I could
feel my strength slowly washing back through me. Outside, I could hear
the sounds of the carnival going into a full tilt. Braun stuck his head
back into the shed. <br /><br />“Hey its almost time for your show,” he
said. “And the guy in the shooting gallery wants to start soon. Are you
almost done here?” Sister Brain nodded. From the table to her side, she
tossed Braun a long scarf. <br /><br />“Gag the redhead. Make it tight.”
He moved to obey. As he approached Crimson, he grabbed her breasts and
began massaging them. Tiffany squealed indignant, but the stimulation
soon melted her. Braun laughed as she moaned, and shoved the knotted
scarf into her mouth. Deftly he tied it around her head. <br /><br />I
lost my battle to Sister Brain. “Can't have you calling for help,” she
said. “Imagine the shock here when dear Athena Nikos is found dead and
naked in the aftermath of the fair. Your precious secret will die with
you, though, so I'm doing you a favor.”<br /><br />With that she
gathered our costumes, and moved toward the door. With a dramatic pause
she turned and said, “I don't know who it's going to be, but out there,”
She pointed behind us, “There are bullets with your names on them. I
hope you don't mind the wait.” And with that, she left us in the dark.<br /><br />The last rays of the late August sunshine limned the doorway. As my eyes
adjusted to the waning light, I could hear the sounds of the festival
just beginning to come to life. The merry music of the midway droned in
my ears, and I could hear Dmitri Lysander and his band warming up some
distance away.<br /><br />The heat and humidity of a late August in Queen
City was adding to the fear and adrenaline causing my body to sweat
profusely. I pulled at the chains, but was unable to get the leverage to
pull the links apart or to break the cuffs attaching them to my wrists.<br /><br />I glanced to my left, but could only see a dim shadow as Crimson writhed as well, with even less success than I was having.<br /><br />“Pardon me Padre,” I heard Michael say. “Would you like to try our shooting gallery?”<br /><br />“Oh my!” I heard Father Timothy exclaim. “I really don't think I should.”<br /><br />“Come on Father, its for the Parish Fund,” said Michael Braun. “All you have to do is shoot the ace of hearts.”<br /><br />“Well since its for the Parish Fund, all right.”<br /><br />My
blood ran cold. I had no doubt as to which target Michael would set my
unsuspecting priest. I tugged again at the chains, with similar results.
“Come on Athena,” I said. “Think!!”<br /><br />Father Timothy was taking
his time, making sure the shot was well aimed. And that moment of
hesitation gave me the opening I needed. I managed to plant my feet on
the ground, with the chain straddling the post I'd been chained to. I
bent my knees, the threw my back into the pole.<br /><br />There was a loud
creaking, then a popping sound as the post bent then broke under the
increased strength the goddess had given too me. It coincided with a
bright flash of light and a shattering BOOM!!!<br /><br />I dropped to the
ground, the post splintering around me. Above I could hear the
whizzz....thud as the bullet hit the backstop. I got to my feet, then
snapped Crimson's manacles, setting her free.<br />At that moment, the
roof of the shooting gallery crashed down, and the heavy rain poured
over the festival; scattering merrymakers toward the church building and
the parish hall.<br /><br />I snatched up Crimson in my arms and flew out
of the festival almost too fast to be seen. Three minutes later, we were
wet, and shaking, and in my apartment. “I don't recall anything about
nude crimefighting in the literature,” laughed Crimson. Then her face
grew solemn. “She knows who you are, Athena.” <br /><br />“I know,” I said. “But we can't let that stop us.” I smiled at her through my painted mask. “Fancy another go at them?'<br /><br />“Thought you'd never ask! Meet you back in five minutes...last one back owes the winner first shots.”<br />Tiffany
dashed down the stairs and I heard the door of her apartment shut. I
knew it took her a while to get her costume all straight, so I took my
time slipping into my old, form fitting Nu Silk leotard. I cinched on my
spare tool belt, then ambled down the stairs from my loft bedroom.
Tiffany was standing at the terrace doors with her arms crossed. “What
took you so long?” she laughed. Her costume was similar to mine—a red
leotard with white tights. She twirled for me.<br /><br />“Its not as
durable as my normal outfit,” she said. “But it does well in a pinch.
Now let's go beat some bad guys.” She beat me to the balcony and we
leapt off into the thick, moist air.<br /><br />The thunderstorm had pretty
well stopped, and the rains were decreasing as we flew back toward the
festival. The grounds still seemed pretty empty, though I could see a
few people still hovering in the Bingo, Beer and Hold 'em tents. But the
midway was deserted. The destroyed shooting gallery was at the end of
the row, and across from it was the sideshow tent, where Brain and Brawn
performed nightly. I dropped Crimson behind the tent and approached
from the front. I flipped open the tent flaps and caught Sister Brain,
hurriedly throwing items into a trunk. She whirled when she saw me, her
nostrils flaring.<br /><br />“You!” she growled. “I would have thought you dead, or at least ashamed to show your face ...Athena.”<br /><br />She spat my birth name like a curse.<br /><br />“There is no shame in my name, or my task as White Owl,” I replied. “And if I put you away, then I can retire, satisfied.”<br /><br />“You're
assuming you can WIN, little bird brain,” she said. As she spoke, she
pulled the sonic blaster from the stage trunk. Sister Brain whirled,
then fired at me.<br /><br />Or more precisely, where I had been. The
vibrations of the gun caused the tent flaps to shudder, but nothing
more. I dove from the ceiling, planting a pulled punch on Sister Brain's
chin. She dropped to the ground and lay still. I landed next to her and
gingerly put two fingers on her neck. A strong pulse greeted me, and a
swift knee in my ear. I flopped to my left, grasping my head.<br /><br />“You
little fool!” taunted Sister Brain. “I learned street brawling from
Michael. He taught me how to roll with any punch.” She rolled and
lurched toward me, but I swept out with my leg, tumbling her back to the
ground. She tried to crawl off, but with my forward momentum, I tackled
her and cracked a fist into her jaw once again. Sister Brain's head
lolled back and cracked the edge of the stage.<br /><br />From behind the
stage, the curtains parted and the Crimson Dynamo stepped out, holding a
groaning and restrained Michael Braun. “Hey Owl,” she said. “I thought
you said I could have first shots.”<br /><br />“You got him, didn't you?” I said. “Did he put up much of a fight?”<br /><br />“Oh
he thought he could get clever with me, but the shock gloves made him
pretty docile,” she said. “Of course I may have had to get a bit rough
with him. <br /><br />At that moment, Braun opened a blackened eye and saw
his sister sprawled on the floor. “What have you done to her? I swear
I'll kill you both!”<br /><br />“You won't be doing much of anything,
Braun,” I heard the reassuring voice of Captain Don Winslow say. Behind
him came a contingent of Queen City's Special Crimes Unit. The captain
quickly took charge of the scene and an ambulance was soon on hand for
Sister Brain. Braun was trundled into a squad car<br /><br />“How did you find us?” asked Crimson.<br /><br />“Oh that was easy.” said Winslow. “Your emergency transponders were switched on; all we had to do was track them.”<br /><br />I smiled. “Sounds like curiosity got the best of Sister Brain,” I said.<br />****<br />Three days later I was in Father Tim's office at the church.<br /><br />“I'm sorry the festival wasn't very successful Father,” I said.<br /><br />“As
well you should be. You and your friends nearly put us completely out
of business. The Metropolitan even called, wondering what we were up to.
But surprisingly, we did bigger business than ever on the last two
nights of the festival, even without rides and arcade games.” He sighed
and rubbed his hands together.<br /><br />“You don't know anything about a sizable gift do you? From a Guillermo Fiorini?” I shook my head.<br /><br />“Well
I hoped I could convert the man, but it seems he's a staunch Roman
Catholic. Still he said it was in gratitude for all we do at St George.”
I frowned, but kept my mouth shut.<br /><br />Later that night, Crimson
Dynamo and I waited in Winslow's office. When the captain came in he sat
at his desk nervously. “Please, sit down ladies,” he began.<br /><br />We
took chairs and Winslow leaned across the desk. “What I'm about to say
can't leave this room. At least until the investigation is completed.”
He frowned. “There's really no easy way to say this. Michael Braun was
found dead in his cell this evening. Right now, it looks like a mob
based killing, and quite frankly we're worried about Marcie Braun.”<br /><br />“Who?” asked Crimson.<br /><br />“Sister Brain,”I said. “What's her condition?”<br /><br />“She's
out of intensive care, but she's lost her total recall. Seems she can't
remember much from the last several days. It will make it hard to
convict her since there weren't that many clues to begin with.”<br /><br />“So she walks?” I asked.<br /><br />“No,
there are enough witnesses to her attempted murders and the missing
merchandise WAS with her. More than likely she'll go to Meadowbrook for a
while, then off to prison. Its not a perfect ending. But it is an end.<br /><br /><span id="goog_304056976"></span><span id="goog_304056977"></span>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-55468551449589272912013-07-28T16:33:00.004-04:002013-07-28T16:33:43.318-04:00A Date with White Owl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHx5gw6pSmJRicJHINYd6vfZElpl0SPCp-95GulPc3M0gIpKghAEw5qc8479lZ4lr3ReO-uMOIOxQXYnxAEWwTYTfvgx-ZIthfUOy5LOOg7XW7v2XRQX1_3waGMNUqvgyL2vVN43ajG903/s1600/a_date_with_white_owl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHx5gw6pSmJRicJHINYd6vfZElpl0SPCp-95GulPc3M0gIpKghAEw5qc8479lZ4lr3ReO-uMOIOxQXYnxAEWwTYTfvgx-ZIthfUOy5LOOg7XW7v2XRQX1_3waGMNUqvgyL2vVN43ajG903/s320/a_date_with_white_owl.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Lincoln Plaza stands eight blocks to the East of Fountain Square; a
refuge of green amidst the skyscrapers and traffic. A small park,
consisting of a war memorial with the names of the young men Queen City
sent out to die in the American Civil War and every subsequent war
thereafter. The army maintains a small garrison;who's job in part, is to
guard the tomb of the unknowns maintained here.<br /><br />Generally its a
quiet place, but as I flew by I saw a firefight happening. One soldier
lay on the ground, and several street hoods and radicals with guns were
storming the monument, shouting “End the Wars!”<br /><br />“Normally, I'd agree with this sentiment,” I said, diving into the fracas. “But there are better ways to protest!”<br /><br />“Holy
crap! It's White Owl!” I heard, followed by the chattering of an
automatic rifle. The bullets bounced from my chest as I heard the leader
shout, “Kill her!”<br /><br />“We're trying to, but the bullets are
bouncing off her!” I kept swooping in and out as I saw the honor guard
rallying for the counter attack. In the distance I could hear the sounds
of QCPD's sirens indicating more backup was on the way. The radicals'
attention was focused on me, and that gave the honor guard the chance
they needed.<br /><br />“Look out! The army guys are attacking too!”<br /><br />As
the sergeant in charge of the counter attack threw a tear gas canister
into the unruly group, I slipped my nose filters into place. I could
hear the coughing and wailing of the terror group as they tried to fight
back against the superior Army force. I dove in, kicking guns and
knocking out the resistance, making it easier for the Army and the
Police to wrap up the battle.<br /><br />Behind me, I heard the racking of
an AK 47 as a thug drew a bead on me. “No one can stop the Society for
Human Peace, White Owl, not even you!” I jumped closer, then kicked his
gun away. Whirling, I punched his jaw, knocking him out.<br /><br />“I may
not be able to stop the whole SHP, but I can stop YOU, friend.” The two
remaining gunmen surrendered, rather than take their lumps, so I was
grateful it was over so quickly and without a loss of life.<br /><br />“Nice
work, White Owl,” said Captain Winslow, as his men took custody of the
prisoners. “It would have been a whole lot messier without you.”<br /><br />“What about the guard?” I asked.<br /><br />“It was a flesh wound. He was treated and released, should be fine.”<br /><br />I nodded. That's terrific Captain...but weren't there six SHP?”<br /><br />The army lieutenant nodded. “She's right. We counted six targets.”<br /><br />The
SHP who had his jaw thumped by me laughed. “Damn straight. Our leader
man made his getaway. I'll lay odds you won't find him or our next
target before it's too late!”<br /><br />One of his buddies laughed and said, “Yeah, sixteen to one odds.”<br /><br />“Shut up you moron!”<br /><br />The
police led the terrorists away, and I stood in deep thought,
contemplating the cryptic message that had been delivered. I was so
intent, that I didn't hear the footsteps behind me. A soft voice said,
“Ummmm, excuse me, Ms White Owl?”<br /><br />Whirling I saw a medium built
soldier, in an MP uniform. He had dark hair, cute brown eyes and glasses
and a cute little dimple in his chin. “Oh yes? Sergeant is it?”<br /><br />“I
guess you don't remember me, White Owl. My name is Chris Smith. I um
well I helped out when you were in Oklahoma City stopping the Doctor
Solar.”<br /><br />A dark memory flashed in my brain, but I remembered this
heroic MP. “Oh yes, of course! I recognize you now. What can I do for
you?” He seemed fidgety and nervous, almost shy.<br /><br />“Er..Nothing
much really. I umm, I just wanted to...I just wanted to say you were
great tonight. It was a pleasure to see you in action.
And..well...you're so brave and...”<br /><br />I could see the sweat rolling
on his brow and his hands were twitching with all sorts of fear. Still I
stood quietly, encouraging him on with my continued interest.<br /><br />Sergeant Smith's voice dropped to just above a whisper“And I just wanted...wanted to ask...Iwantedtoaskifyouwoudgooutwithme!”<br /><br />A look of shock crossed my face. “What? What did you say? Did you just ask me for a date?!”<br /><br />“Well
er...yeah. I mean..I could understand if you said no. I mean you're a
very busy person and all...and I'm just a soldier and...”<br /><br />My mind
didn't hear the rest of it. I was contemplating all the romantic
overtures Athena Nikos received, from fellow archeologists, to potential
donors to the odd children who toured the museum. But this was the
first time anyone ever asked for a date with White Owl. And who
knew..maybe it could be fun. “All right Sergeant Smith, you're on.” I
said with a smile.<br /><br />The worried man had almost convinced himself
that I was going to turn him down. “...,so if you don't want to I'll
understand, and HUNH?! Did you just say yes? You mean you WILL? Wow
that's great! Where should I pick you up?'”<br /><br />I suddenly realized I
didn't want to give away too much of my personal life, so I said, “Why
don't we meet somewhere. Say Fountain Square tonight at eight?”<br /><br />Chris's eyes twinkled. “You bet.”<br /><br />I
arrived at Fountain Square, and Chris stood to one side, with something
in his hand. I flew in and landed next to him. He took my hand smiling.
“Right on time, Sergeant...I mean Chris,” I said.<br /><br />“And I brought you a little something, White Owl,” he said, proffering the box at me. “Can I call you Owl?”<br /><br />“Of course you can,” I replied. “Oooh a corsage! How nice of you.”<br /><br />“I hope you like it, I picked it to go with your costume.”<br /><br />“It's
lovely,” I said graciously. “And a little silly,” I thought to myself
as Chris' shaking hands pinned it to the Nu Silk. “But what are you
going to do?”<br /><br />I drew a deep breath and asked, “So, where are we going?”<br /><br />“I
know a terrific little Italian place in the theater district. No one
should bother us there,” he said. He gallantly opened the door to his
sports coupe and away we drove.<br /><br />Of course we weren't left alone. Thirty minutes after arriving, I was still signing autographs and smiling. <br /><br />“I certainly didn't expect this to happen,” moaned Chris.<br /><br />“Its
one of the pitfalls of celebrity, I said. “You're expected to sign
autographs wherever you go.” I looked at one picture in the evening
paper as it was pressed next to me.<br /><br />“That was a terrific thing
you did today, White Owl,” said the older gentleman as I signed it for
him. I thanked him but couldn't shake the memory of the SHP man's
comment about the next target. The answer way fuzzy at the edges of my
mind, but I couldn't make it click.<br /><br />I signed the last autograph
and thanked the waiters for offering us some peace then turned to Chris
and said, “Finally...let's eat.”<br /><br />I took a bite though, and frowned, “Oh..Nothing worse than cold chicken parmigiana.” <br /><br />“Oh God I'm so sorry,” said Chris. “Wait, I'll have the waiter bring you something else.”<br /><br />“No,
really it's all right. I wasn't all that hungry tonight anyway.” My
mind kept hacking away at the Sixteen to one odds. It had to mean
something. I almost missed Chris' next sentence.<br /><br />“Do you like to dance?” he asked. “I know a nice club near here and they have a fantastic band.”<br /><br />“Sounds dreamy,” I said, flashing him a smile.<br /><br />We
walked into the High Note, and I saw it was a popular place with a lot
of the local soldiers. They eyed Chris and me as we entered, then I gave
Chris my arm as we started a nice slow dance. Chris was light on his
feet, and he led with an easy grace. We danced formals, some more modern
dances too. Finally, one of the soldiers got up and came toward us. His
name tag said Dekker.<br /><br />“Hey Smith! You finally got a date with
White Owl? White Owl my Aunt Fanny! She's not the real one!” A strong
smell of alcohol was on his breath.<br /><br />“Yes she is,” said Chris, gently. “No go away and leave us alone.”<br /><br />The
soldier pulled Chris from me. “You can't fool me. I'm cutting in, and
I'm guessing that's Margie Tanner under that mask.” He held me by one
arm and his other reached for my face. <br /><br />“Only one way to find
out,” he said. “That you under there Margie?” My hand snapped up and
caught his wrist. With a swift flip and a bit of enhanced strength,
Sergeant Dekker flew across the dance floor.<br /><br />“No soldier, I'm NOT Margie Tanner, and you can keep your hands to yourself.”<br /><br />Dekker sat on the floor holding his spinning head. “Maybe you ARE the real White Owl,” he muttered.<br /><br />Chris
caught my hand and led me toward the door. “Come on Owl, I think we'd
better leave.” I followed him quietly out to his car.<br /><br />“Man, this
night is turning into a real disaster, Owl. It seems everywhere we go,
we run into people who react to your costume. If only there were
someplace where there weren't any people around.” Chris was driving down
Riverside Drive and I was looking up at the several bridges spanning
the Ohio.<br /><br />“Maybe we could walk along the Washington Bridge,” said Chris.<br /><br />“Of course! That's it!” I said. “The Washington Bridge!”<br /><br />“What? You mean you really want to walk it? I was only kidding!”<br /><br />“No Chris. The Clue! They were talking about the bridge.<br /><br />“What are you talking about Owl? I don't have any clue. What clue?”<br /><br />“The
clue Chris! The SHP guy said the odds were 16 to 1 that we couldn't
find their next target in time. Don't you get it? They were in Lincoln
Plaza this afternoon. Lincoln was the sixteenth president. They're going
from 16 to 1; from Lincoln to Washington...”<br /><br />“And that means the
bridge!” said Chris. I felt the car accelerate and Chris's phenomenal
reflexes took over, swinging the car through the deserted streets and
angling up Main to the closed Washington Bridge.<br /><br />John Roebling
built the Washington Bridge as a predecessor to the more famous bridge
in Brooklyn. But it was currently closed for renovation, and barricades
prevented auto traffic. We pulled up in front of one of the barricades ,
and climbed out. Sprawled on the ground in behind the barricades were
two Ace Security officers.<br /><br />“We're too late. They're already here.” I said. Just at that moment, bullets flared the bridge.<br /><br />“You're
right White Owl, but this time you're not going to stop us. Now get
back in that car and drive out. Or this bridge is going to explode into
to the river.<br /><br />Slowly moving back, I said, “Better do what he says, Chris.”<br /><br />Buckling
his seat belt, Chris said, “OK but I have an idea.” The car backed,
turned, and trundled down Main. Two blocks away, Chris spun it around,
revved the engine and raced back toward the bridge. <br /><br />The car
picked up speed and Chris said, “Get down Owl.” Bullets blasted away the
windshield as the car stayed on approach to the guard shack.<br /><br />WHAAAMMMM!!!!
The car blasted into the guard shack, blocking the doorway with its
nose. More SHP members raced out, unable to get out the door easily.<br /><br />I
swung open my door, slamming one SHP member in the crotch. He dropped
his gun and lay moaning on the ground. On the other side, Chris did the
same, slamming a punch into the belly of another SHP gang member. As
Chris climbed out the rest of the way, he socked the man in the jaw and I
had the pleasure of watching the SHP man sag to the ground.<br /><br />“I got these guys Owl, you get the boss,” he said.<br /><br />“I'm
on it, “ I said. I flew over the wrecked guard shack and landed on the
dark bridge. Pale work lights illuminated the walkways, and I glided
slowly over them; peering through the grates to the catwalks below the
bridge surface. A bright flash lit up the night and I dove after it. The
SHP leader was working with a welding torch, attaching a bomb to one of
the support pylons.<br /><br />“Not tonight,” I said, sweeping in. The
leader pivoted and fired his torch at me. I dove to one side, attempting
to avoid the blue flame. I flew around the pylon, landing gently behind
the leader. <br /><br />“Ready to give up?” I said. <br /><br />As he whipped
around, the welding torch made contact with the flux and the bright
light blinded me. Seizing his opportunity, the SHP man brought the torch
down on my head. I groaned and staggered, then slipped on the catwalk.
With a wild scramble I caught the hand rail and hung for dear life as I
tried to clear my eyes.<br /><br />“Oh how I'll relish this,” said the SHP
leader. I heard him approach and felt the heat of the flame to my left
as he heated the railing, attempting to cut through.<br /><br />“So long, White Owl,” he gloated.<br /><br />But
his laughter was cut short, and I felt a powerful but gentle hand on
mine. A moment later I was pulled back onto the platform, in Chris's
warm, gentle embrace.<br /><br />“You OK Owl?” asked Chris.<br /><br />“Yeah, I
am now,” I said. My eyes were starting to clear and I saw the angry
flashing of the red and blue lights as the QCPD wrapped up the rest of
the SHP.<br /><br />We walked to the edge of the bridge and I saw a tow
truck pulling away Chris's car. “Oh Chris! It was an excellent plan, but
I'm afraid it didn't do much for your car.”<br /><br />“Yeah,” he replied. “I should be able to get it fixed or replaced, but I'm afraid we're going to have to walk from here.”<br /><br />“So?”
I replied. “It's a nice night, the company is fine, and I know an all
night chili place where we can get a private booth.” Together we walked
into the moonlit night, arm in arm.<br /><br />The End<br /><br />(Based on a Batgirl Story from Detective Comics 483)Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-44494041998170330612013-07-28T16:31:00.000-04:002013-07-28T16:31:02.096-04:00The Astrologer's Assault<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihToD5iY6FKTNoFPOBfirETkZ6v_neDM9s6ZF38HI2fbAILjvp5LITa8-O0xgM-mppq5Bka6rwlUDybBW1RS_ZA9e8jO54XbIoMSwoSg2GNvuY11Vw7iZBnO3VznmqMHf_BR-GpmaFlye0/s1600/the_astrologer_s_assault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihToD5iY6FKTNoFPOBfirETkZ6v_neDM9s6ZF38HI2fbAILjvp5LITa8-O0xgM-mppq5Bka6rwlUDybBW1RS_ZA9e8jO54XbIoMSwoSg2GNvuY11Vw7iZBnO3VznmqMHf_BR-GpmaFlye0/s320/the_astrologer_s_assault.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1537811805"></span><span id="goog_1537811806"></span><br />
After wrapping
things up in New Mexico, I took a side trip to Washington to visit Dr
Ken Stevenson at the Smithsonian. Ken was an outstanding anthropologist,
and well versed in American Indian artifacts. I wanted to show him my
chain, perhaps the only remaining relic of my unexpected journey to
Cibola.<br />
<br />
“Always glad to see you, Athena,” he said affably. “When
are you going to stop doing all the manual labor and do some real
archeological work? We have an opening here, you know.”<br />
<br />
“Thanks
Ken,” I said. “But I'm in love with Queen City and with field work.
Besides, Chatterjee would never consent to it. I'm afraid I'm wedded to
the Museum of Natural History.”<br />
<br />
“I know, but you can't blame a guy for asking,” said Ken. He spread his hands then asked, “What have you got for me?”<br />
<br />
“Can't an old friend drop in to say hi during a conference?” I asked innocently.<br />
<br />
“The conference is over in Arlington. I'm here. You're here. This implies more than a social visit.”<br />
<br />
“OK you have me dead to rights,” I smiled. I pulled the chain from my purse, then unwrapped the silk handkerchief containing it.<br />
<br />
“Oh
my!” said Ken. “Shiny!” He bent over the chain and looked intently.
Lifting it, he pulled a pocket magnifier out and studied it.<br />
<br />
“Well
without a more thorough study, I'd say this is gold. Possibly Arizona
or New Mexico in origin and from the work of the chain, Pueblo Indian
work six hundred years old. How am I doing?”<br />
<br />
“I knew that much already,” I said. “But I have the advantage of having found it out there. So it IS genuine?”<br />
<br />
“Oh yes, and valuable. Where did you find it?”<br />
<br />
“In a cave I was exploring with an old colleague. I'm not sure I could find it again,” I lied.<br />
<br />
“Pity,” Ken said. “You used to have an unerring sense of direction.” He looked back at the chain.<br />
“I'd really need to make a fuller study of it before I can render any more judgment, Athena. Mind if I hold on to it?”<br />
<br />
“Well,
I suppose. You know where to send it don't you?” Ken nodded and I
smiled. “The conference doesn't start in earnest until tomorrow
afternoon. That's when a young archaeologist from Queen City presents
her latest paper on the temple of Bubastis.”<br />
“Oh right. You helped Randal Courtney. I'm surprised he's not here to present it himself.”<br />
<br />
“I
heard he was trying to raise funds for an expedition in Guatemala.
Something about a jaguar cult. And when he heard I wasn't welcome there;
well, he looked for another hot archaeologist.”<br />
<br />
Ken laughed. “That sounds like him. Hey are you doing anything for dinner tonight?”<br />
<br />
“Actually Ken, I'm exhausted. I plan on slipping into comfy pajamas and reviewing my notes. Hopefully I can get a good rest.”<br />
<br />
With his hopes dashed, Ken frowned. “OK. But you ARE on the spot for dinner tomorrow after your triumphant presentation.”<br />
<br />
“Agreed. Say about seven?”<br />
I
checked into the hotel and took the elevator to my room. Looking out of
the window I could see the lights of the mall in the distance as the
city of Washington swept toward the Potomac. Closer I could see the
bright lights of the Pentagon. A full moon was rising in the east, and I
pulled my camera out of my luggage, thinking this would make a good
shot.<br />
<br />
Through the telephoto lens, I could see a small motor
launch pulling through the river, and landing on the shore near the
Pentagon. Several men with dark jumpsuits jumped from the boat, and
moved stealthily toward the Military headquarters I saw the steely glint
of high powered rifles as the team of about 20 men stalked their way
through cover toward the building.<br />
<br />
“This looks like a job for
White Owl,” I said, not knowing who to contact in the Guild. I put in a
general alert, though, and was assured by Dark Hunter that backup would
be coming.<br />
<br />
I slid open the balcony door and stepped onto the
small terrace of my room, then launched myself into the air. The wind
currents were warm and I welcomed their invigorating caress against my
skin as I swept across the night.<br />
<br />
I heard the barking chatter of
gunfire as I approached. “Sounds like I missed the opening innings,” I
muttered. I swept in from a flank, spotting sentinels and MPs exchanging
gunfire with the commando team.<br />
<br />
“Oh my! This looks like
something from an old war movie!” I remembered watching several violent
movies with my father when I was younger and never realized it was so
authentic. But the strike team pulled grenades and began tossing them at
the guardians of the military complex. It was then I realized my nose
filters, and I slipped them into place, as the MPs sagged to the ground.<br />
<br />
“Looks
like the Army is out of action,” I said. “I guess its up to me.” I took
a step and kicked the gunman nearest me with a heavy boot. He dropped
like a ripe apple from a tree. But as I whirled, I saw three more men
drawing beads on me with their rifles.<br />
<br />
I delved into my pouch,
praying for a few more precious moments, then came up with a smoke
grenade and two bop balls. I tossed the grenade first and a thick, acrid
smoke filled the area. From the darkness, the first steel ball flew
unerringly, striking the next nearest gunner in the forehead. He spilled
backwards; his gun firing uselessly, then stopping abruptly.<br />
<br />
The
other two closed, but I swooped down from above, cracking their skulls
together. The dropped in pain and I managed to cuff all four in short
order. I stood up, pleased, then spotted a bazooka behind me. I dove to
one side as the explosive slammed into the wall of the Pentagon. <br />
<br />
The
concussion of the blast threw me forward and the falling rubble
disoriented me as the two remaining squad members ran past into the
world's largest office building.<br />
<br />
“No more playing nice,” I
thought. I hit the bazooka man in the back of the head with a bop ball
and watched his knees buckle as he hit the pavement. But the leader of
the team seemed too intent on completing his mission and disappeared
into the darkened building.<br />
<br />
Behind me, I heard the thumping of
boots on the ground. The reinforcements had arrived. I shouted over my
shoulder, “There's six of them, guys. I got the first five here, but the
leader's inside.”<br />
<br />
“Hey it's White Owl! What's she doing here,” asked the squad leader.<br />
<br />
“No time to explain. He's getting away! There should be more Guild members coming.” He didn't hear my added “I hope.”<br />
<br />
I
stepped into the building, worried the trail was growing cold. But a
trail of Potomac River mud led through the E Ring and on into the
building. I followed them through several offices, ending in the A Ring
where I found another opening blown into the wall. “Now what? He didn't
have time to steal anything. Why would someone break into the Pentagon,
only to break out into the central courtyard?”<br />
<br />
As I stepped into
the courtyard, I saw the jumpsuit and balaclava set off to one side, and
in the center of the yard was an older man in ancient looking clothing.
His dark brown hair waved in the moonlight and he seemed to be taking
stock of the moonrise now cresting over the Pentagon.<br />
<br />
“Another
moment and the moon and stars will be in proper conjunction! And I shall
be invested with Astral Powers untapped until now!”<br />
<br />
“The Astrologer!” I shouted. “What are you doing here?”<br />
<br />
“White
Owl! But you're too late! The stars foretold your interference, and
they foretold my ultimate success!” The Astrologer began floating, lotus
like, and from his hand a sharp burst of energy shot my side. I howled
with pain and flew across the courtyard. <br />
<br />
Dragging myself to my
feet, I said, “But why the Pentagon? Surely there was an empty lot
somewhere that would have been a lot easier to storm.” Another burst of
eldritch energy shot past me, singing my costume. I dove again, as the
Astrologer followed after me with yet another burst of his new found
powers.<br />
<br />
“Easier yes, White Owl, but far less effective,” he
explained. “Or did you fail to realize, we're contained in the world's
largest pentagram? I'm certain the architect wasn't aware of the mystic
advantages, but I was!”<br />
<br />
Another ball of energy hit, trapping me
in a painful glowing ball. I writhed , but was unwilling to give the
Astrologer the advantage of hearing me scream again. But I smiled with
satisfaction as I heard the racking of several semiautomatic rifles in
the hands of the MP corps. <br />
<br />
“Open fire men,” shouted the Lieutenant in command.<br />
<br />
“You
fools! Your weapons are useless,” mocked the Astrologer. He raised his
hands and the hail of bullets disappeared. A further gesture and the
walls of the Pentagon began melting, trapping the brave soldiers in the
flow of concrete and limestone. As the walls solidified again, the
soldiers squirmed helplessly.<br />
<br />
But their distraction was enough to
free me from the Astrologer's grasp. I hit the ground on my feet and
began running. “Not so fast White Owl,” he said. “We have unfinished
business.”<br />
<br />
“I agree, Astrologer! I'm not done fighting yet.”<br />
<br />
“But you see that no weapons can stop me!” he cried out in triumph.<br />
<br />
“Maybe
not, but I'm willing to bet I can destroy your source of power, by
blasting apart your pentagram!” I whirled, grabbing grenades and lobbing
them at the wall.<br />
<br />
“NO!” shouted the Astrologer in fury. “I will
destroy you White Owl!” A burst of mystic energy shattered the wall
behind me. I ducked, expecting another blast, and instead heard a wail
of rage.<br />
<br />
“My POWERS They're GONE!!!”<br />
<br />
“That's right,
Astronomer,” I said. “Lets see how you fare in hand to hand combat.” I
threw a right at his jaw, clipping him and catching him as he fell.<br />
<br />
“Not
too well, I guess,” I said. I dipped into by tool belt one last time
for my final pair of handcuffs and locked them tightly on the now
powerless Astrologer's wrists.<br />
<br />
Moments later, the Astrologer was
in the custody of the Military Police, and the trapped soldiers were
freed by a judicious amount of goddess given strength. “Thanks White
Owl. You really took it to him,” said the lieutenant.<br />
<br />
The
Astrologer stopped in front of me. “I don't understand, White Owl. The
horoscope showed you would interfere but I would triumph. But don't
worry. The stars predict more confrontations, and my ultimate triumph.”
The guards hurried him off.<br />
<br />
In the darkness of the courtyard, I
saw several shooting stars streak across the sky. And while I'm not up
on my astrology, I'd bet that the unplanned meteor shower may have had
something to do with his defeat.<br />
<br />
The End.Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-90732492223930241822012-03-09T05:27:00.002-05:002012-03-09T05:44:18.146-05:00Terror at the Museum<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WQ9mPrESFK8Ge9cxuPfKJp0ZzJiyNLMtIlljxT_rgFfueqe4mKI1JUxnk044enncv94BuYiN1SY4o7YTWbJeqbkSNJIvQoaVVQh3H-VwmlX9NN4O_6QgKn8kXDM8rk917dtZF_lPfCTv/s1600/terror_at_the_museum.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 374px; height: 400px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717846273288067234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WQ9mPrESFK8Ge9cxuPfKJp0ZzJiyNLMtIlljxT_rgFfueqe4mKI1JUxnk044enncv94BuYiN1SY4o7YTWbJeqbkSNJIvQoaVVQh3H-VwmlX9NN4O_6QgKn8kXDM8rk917dtZF_lPfCTv/s400/terror_at_the_museum.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Terror at the Museum...A White Owl Adventure...</div><div> </div><div>“...And the art gallery has a new exhibit of religious icons starting in January. As you can see from the handout, this looks to be a lucrative show.” Cassidy finished her presentation, then sat down.</div><div> </div><div>Ajay Chatterjee, the director of the Queen City Museum of Natural History, harrumphed and glanced down at his watch and the agenda</div><div>.“This brings us to our final order of business,” he intoned. Several contented murmurs were heard, causing the director to look up with a raised eyebrow. “I am aware of the lateness of the meeting; but this is important.”Chagrined, I looked down at the long conference table, matching my face to Dr Chatterjee's. Somberly I looked up and saw most of my colleagues had done the same. Except for Professor Zemehd, who was still looking shocked and dismayed. Zemehd was the curator of the large animal exhibits at the museum, responsible for restorations of gorillas, elephants and more.</div><div>“And for sixty years of ongoing service to the Queen City Museum Center,” said Chatterjee, “ we want to extend our congratulations and best wishes to Professor Anton Zemehd on the occasion of his retirement...I'm certain we would all want to wish him well...”</div><div>“Dammit Chatterjee! You can't force me out to pasture like this! I've been working here since I was fifteen! No one preserves and represents their subjects better. I'm a legend!”</div><div>“But you're now a retired legend, Anton,” said Chatterjee, condescendingly. “Take some time to go fishing, visit relatives, relax! And quite frankly, the museum is moving away from taxidermy as a way to preserve exhibits. At 75, my friend, its time for you to...”</div><div>“It's time for me to show you! Show you ALL! You haven't heard the last of me, Chatterjee!” Professor Z stormed out of the conference room and we heard the clatter of a cart being turned over in the hall. </div><div>Chatterjee took a look then sighed. “I'm afraid the Professor's tantrum has cost us one large retirement cake, coffee and punch. I'll have maintenance come and clean it up. In the meantime, we are adjourned.”</div><div>Cassidy caught up to me as I made my way past the cake carnage. “I don't think I've ever seen Prof Z so uptight, Athena” she said.</div><div>“No, neither have I. But he has seemed a bit more on edge the last few weeks,” I said. I wonder how long this showdown has been brewing?”</div><div>“About 2 months, Dr Nikos,” I heard a heavily accented voice say. </div><div>“Good Afternoon, Director,” I said. “So what just happened back there?”</div><div>“Professor Zemehd HAS been working in the museum for nearly 60 years. He started as an apprentice with his predecessor, as you know.” I nodded and Chatterjee continued.“But his recent work has been less than exemplary. You know, he's one of the first naturalists to show his exhibits in their native environments?”</div><div>“Yes,” I said. “He started doing it ten years before it caught on anywhere else in the States. I consulted with him a few times as we set up a Mound Builders exhibit.”</div><div>Chatterjee nodded. “Well his latest work was far too frightening to display. It showed a hippopotamus killing a Zulu hunter in very vivid detail. Needless to say, this led to words, then to my asking for his resignation. He refused.“I could have fired him, and did—but we kept it hush hush, and I agreed to honor his work here, to retire him with some dignity. I THOUGHT we were agreed on that, but apparently I was mistaken."</div><div>Cassidy and I stood there dumbfounded at all the politicking that had occurred behind our backs. Foster from Security came up at that moment and nodded. “He's been politely escorted from the building, Director.”</div><div>“Will he be back?” asked Cassidy.“I don't think so,” said Chatterjee. “All of his access codes have been revoked and all of his keys accounted for.” He glared at the two of us. “Don't you have work to do?”</div><div>I winked at Cassidy and said, “Come on, we'd better get busy.” We made ourselves scarce for the rest of the day.</div><div> </div><div>ELSEWHERE...A While Later</div><div> </div><div>Sergeant Jim Harper had turned down several offers to move to plainclothes. He was a beat cop by nature, and no one knew his beat better than Jim. Costerman's Hill had a reputation for crime, but in Harper's neighborhood things were different. The people knew each other and trusted the beat office. Though he had a cruiser assigned to him, Harper preferred to walk the beat when he could. “It gives me a better picture of what's going on. And it promotes trust,” he'd informed his supervisors. Whatever it was, it worked, because Harper had been cited twice for gallantry and had earned the Top Cop award from his peers three times.He'd finished his shift, and was heading back to the cruiser to change into his civvies and head home for a night of television and reading. An older gentleman caught his eye, however, one who appeared to be having trouble getting into his car.“Can I help you sir?” asked Harper.“Oh yes officer, I think you can. I appear to have locked my keys in the car. Can you hep?”Harper looked into the passenger window. Sure enough, the keys dangled in the ignition lock. Smiling, Harper tried the handle on the back door. “You're in luck sir, the back door is unloc...UNHHHHH!!!”</div><div> The bat cracked against Sergeant Harper's skull with full fury, and the police officer saw stars. He reached for the mike on his uniform, trying to call in the assault, but a thick cloth with an ill smelling substance was pressed tightly against his face.</div><div>Woozy, Harper couldn't offer much resistance, and soon drooped against the concrete sidewalk, unconscious. The two men who had attacked him hefted the unconscious officer and carried him to an unmarked panel van behind the car.“Well that was easy, professor,” said one of the goons. “For a top cop he didn't even put up much of a fight.”</div><div>“Quiet you fool. I may have to reject him if you damaged his skull when you hit him! Why can't you be more careful Rigby? You aren't working for some cheap curio shop! These specimens have to be museum grade!”</div><div>The van pulled away from the curb and traveled slowly down Costerman's Hill toward a side street near the museum center. “Those fools frittered away my genius, thought they'd kept me out for good. As if mounting bears, gorillas and stupid birds was my life's work.”</div><div>The van turned into a dark abandoned subway tunnel entry underneath the museum. Zemehd and his associates lifted the sleeping policeman gently from the van and carried him to a working, but unknown freight elevator.“This subway was started in the 30's, the professor said. “And abandoned five years later with only a few stations being built. And since the Museum was moved to the old Union Station, this made a perfect extra workshop for me! No one knows about this elevator, or the sub basement I've been working in. That doddering idiot Chatterjee thought he'd seen the last of me. But he'll see. Anton Zemehd's greatest work goes on beneath his large nose!”</div><div>The elevator stopped with a gentle bump and Professor Zemehd opened the doors. “Quickly, bring him inside to my table. I must start work on this specimen immediately!”</div><div>“Chill professor! The chloroform we gave him should keep him out for at least another hour.”The henchmen set the police officer on the table and set his gunbelt and radio across the way on a counter. Boris went to get some straps, when Professor Zemehd heard a groan from the table. Whirling in shock, he saw Harper rolling, attempting to stand,</div><div>“Another HOUR?! Looks like you dosed it wrong. Hurry, give him a sedative before he gets away!”Harper put his hand to his head, feeling the goose egg left behind. He looked around at the unfamiliar setting and saw the two goons and the old man approaching him. He felt for his service pistol and found the belt gone. Rolling to his right, however, he saw a tray full of surgical knives.</div><div>Harper grabbed one and shouted in a raspy voice. “Back off! I don't know what game you're playing but I'm not going to play it with you.”He saw an open door behind him and ran into a dark gallery. </div><div>“Don't just stand there you imbeciles! Stop him! And don't damage him!”</div><div>“Yes, professor.”Harper ran, looking over his shoulder at the retreating light. His heart was racing and his mind still in a fog as he tried to figure out what was happening. He ran into a solid something. “What the devil?” He asked himself. “Feels like I ran into a wall of glass.”“Hey we don't know where he went Professor. Can you hit the lights?” Harper heard behind him. </div><div> </div><div>Suddenly the room grew bright. Harper threw his hand over his eyes, then slowly lowered it as his pupils adjusted.What he saw sickened and shocked him. All around him were glass exhibition cases, filled with street scenes from Queen City. A mother and her daughter crossed at a light. Harper recognized them as two separate missing person cases from the previous year. Other tableau showed a mailman at a relay box, and a bank robbery in progress. The two robbers were on a BOLO that had crossed Harper's desk about a month ago. He stared in morbid fascination.</div><div> </div><div>“Thanks Professor! We found him!” said the goon's voice behind him. “Take it easy Rigby, you know what the Prof said about damaging him.”</div><div>“I know Malloy.”</div><div>Harper clutched the knife he'd grabbed. “Get back, or I'll kill you both.”</div><div>Malloy tapped Rigby on the shoulder. “Look out! He's got one of the professor's knives.”</div><div>“I see that Malloy. I'm afraid I have no choice now!” Rigby pulled a pistol from his lab coat and pumped two bullets into Harper's chest. The Policeman folded like wet laundry and dropped onto the floor.</div><div>Professor Zemehd came running into the room. “What was that? What happened?” He spotted Harper on the floor and whirled on his associates. “Look at those HOLES! How COULD you? He was a nearly perfect specimen and you RUINED him.”“We know how important he was to you professor, and we're sorry. But it couldn't be helped,” said Rigby.</div><div>“Get him out of here! Now!”“Where should we take him?”“That's not my concern. Somewhere he won't be found for a while.”Malloy smiled. “I know just the place.”</div><div> </div><div>The next morning I was yawning, wishing for a cup of dark roasted ambrosia. I was shivering on the pier next to Captain Donald Winslow of the Queen City Special Crimes Unit. Winslow seemed as impassive as ever, but I knew the grisly scene was ripping a hole in the staunch man.</div><div>“I trained Harper at the academy, White Owl. Best cadet I'd ever seen. I recommended him three times for SCU and he always turned it down. I'd say he was killed elsewhere and dumped here, since the body is so cold.”</div><div>Nearby a nervous man was talking with Detective Yemana. “I didn't touch anything detective! I watch enough cop shows on TV to know that much. Course I never dreamed I'd find a body.”</div><div>“You did a good thing Mr Matthews,” said Yemana. “Captain?”Winslow stepped over. “What do you have Nick?”“Something in his hand. Looks like some sort of knife. Ever seen one like that?”</div><div>I leaned over to have a look too.Winslow shook his head and lit a cigarette. “Nope, never seen one like that. Looks almost like a scalpel but it's too long. Still I figure Yorba in the lab can figure it out.”</div><div> He looked up and saw the hearse pulling in. “Looks like the coroner is here, we're done anyhow. Walk with me Owl?”</div><div> Though it was phrased as a question, I knew Winslow's command voice when I heard it. I stepped beside him as we walked to his Taurus.“This is personal,” he said. “Not only was Harper a cop, a top cop; he was also my friend. This is an SCU investigation and I want you up on it too. But it cuts both ways. I know you sometimes have information before I do, but if you get ANYTHING, I want you to share it, OK?”</div><div>I was taken aback by the sudden frank tone. “Of course, Captain. I always do.”</div><div>He grunted and nodded, then gave me a weak smile. “I'm sorry Owl, its just this is really getting to me.”</div><div>“Maybe you should go home, take a couple days off?” I suggested.</div><div>“I can't, I owe that much to Harper.” The engine started and Winslow drove off toward Police Headquarters. I flew off toward the roof of STAR labs, where I gathered my duffel bag, then flew on to the museum. I landed in an open bathroom window on the fourth floor, then quickly changed and made my way to my workshop. The lights in Professor Z's office were off, but I could see a gleam of surgical steel through the window.My recall clicked in. Taxidermist tools. The knife Sgt Harper had been carrying was a taxidermist's knife. I got to my workshop and left a message for Captain Winslow. He agreed to check out the shops in Harper's beat. I got to work piecing together an old pot from the Serpent Mound.</div><div>Ajay Chatterjee reflected on the changing daylight as he crossed the parking garage. Though it was only 7 pm, already the light was fading. The parking deck was nearly deserted and Chatterjee moved across it with something more than a trudge. Though he would never show it, He was content, as the petty, but benevolent ruler of this little domain. Still he dreamed of better days.He didn't notice the two men in lab coats until they stepped around the pillar. One held a thick cloth in his hand.</div><div>Chatterjee turned to run, but saw Professor Zemehd grinning. “I said you hadn't seen the last of me,” he cackled.Chatterjee felt two sets of strong arms around him, and the thick cloth covered his nose. He struggled briefly against the chloroform, then drooped unconscious in his attacker's arms.</div><div>“Now gently,” said Zemehd. “I don't want this one ruined like the last one! I have a very special place for him.”</div><div>I had been working late myself; losing track of time. I waved goodnight to Foster, then walked out onto the parking deck. I heard a cry for help begin, then stop. I looked around and saw three men carrying a fourth toward the back of the garage. </div><div>“No rest for the weary ,” I said. I stripped off my jacket and skirt, revealing the leotard I'd worn all day. My duffel bag yielded my boots, belt, gloves and mask and in less than a minute, White Owl stood in Athena's former place. I tossed my duffel into my jeep and flew across the parking garage. But the kidnappers (and their victim) had gone. I couldn't spot them in the stairwell, then I remembered the old freight elevator. It hadn't been used in years, or so I thought. I found the elevator shaft, unboarded. The lights were working, indicating the car was descending, but it dropped to three levels lower than I knew as the lowest. I waited five minutes, then pulled the doors apart with aloud metal shriek. The shaft was empty, and I glided down, ever lower. Gently I landed on the roof of the car, then slowly opened the access port.I swung into the car, and peered through the open door. I could hear voices in the distance, one of which sounded familiar. “Rigby, I can't find my tools! See if I left them in the elevator!”“Right away professor,” came a voice I assumed was Rigby's. I hovered just above the open door and watched as a stringy blonde haired man bent in for the satchel. With a practiced grace, I landed on top of him, knocking him to the floor, then putting him to sleep with a gas ball. I zip tied him then slipped into the hallway.</div><div> </div><div> I made my way to the lighted room, hearing Professor Zemehd getting more and more angry.“Malloy, go find out what's keeping that pinhead! I'm more than capable of watching our guest here, now that we have him strapped to the table.”</div><div> </div><div>The metal doors swung open and another gangly looking man walked out, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He made it halfway down the hall when my bop ball caught him square in the back of the cranium, dropping him like a Cobras receiver drops a pass.I had just finished zip tying Malloy when I became aware of a shadow looming over me. </div><div> </div><div>Turning I felt a nick in my left shoulder and saw the hypodermic in Professor Z's hand. I struggled to get to my feet, but whatever the drug was, it was faster. I crumpled to the floor.</div><div> </div><div>“You were always meant to be the capstone of my exhibit,” was the last thing I heard.</div><div> </div><div>A bright light glared into my closed eyes, and I played possum a bit longer to get the lay of the land. Professor Zemehd was talking with someone, and from the dialog I could tell it wasn’t me.“You thought you'd seen the last of me didn't you! Get rid of the troublesome old fool., he's bad for the bottom line! But I showed you, Ajay. And soon your arrogance will be on display for the entire world!”</div><div> </div><div>I opened my eyes, stirring a bit. “Hey boss, the Owl girl is waking up!”“What? Impossible! I gave her a triple dose. She should be sleeping for hours!”</div><div> </div><div>“Never the less, Professor,” I replied with more bravado than I felt. “I'm awake, and I'm angry.”</div><div> </div><div>“Bah, so what? You're also bound and helpless! You'll wait your turn to become the final touches of my exhibit of a slice of Queen City's life.” He pointed down into the gallery, and I could dimly see the bank robbery exhibit. “You'll be immortalized, stopping those criminals,” he said.</div><div> </div><div>“N...No Thank You!” I said. With a tremendous tug, I pulled the leather straps holding my arms to the operating table apart. The metal squawked, falling to pieces.</div><div> </div><div>“Stop her you idiots!” shouted Zemehd. But by the time he shouted, I had regained my toolbelt. I waited just a moment, then with a twirl of my wrist, the Bola Balls wrapped Malloy and Rigby together at the ankle. They sprawled forward, knocking the tray of knives across the floor.</div><div> </div><div>Professor Zemehd dropped to his knees. “You wouldn't hurt a harmless old man, would you White Owl?”</div><div> </div><div>“Just look at all this death you've caused! And you dare to call yourself harmless?” I raised my fist to punch the man, feeling it gently restrained .</div><div> </div><div>“Don't lower yourself to his level kiddo,” I heard. Sparing a glance, I saw Captain Winslow and the rest of the SCU coming through the doors. With great reluctance, I agreed and lowered my fist.</div><div> </div><div> “Here's the killer of your friend, Captain,” I said with no satisfaction.“I thought you were going to wait for us,” he said.</div><div> </div><div>“I sent the signal, but a man's life was at stake,” I answered.</div><div> </div><div>“Looks like yours was too.”I nodded. “If its all the same to you, I think I'll take the rest of the night off.”</div><div> </div><div>“Don't worry, White Owl. You've earned it.”</div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-29540417614474291432012-03-09T05:21:00.002-05:002012-03-09T05:25:32.134-05:00The Dream of Gentleman Johnny<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7oimT8uDCLSQ5gkv3NRzJRz_2CfKPn2kuEtBJ1D8BFYHvAE53c8YgLkUX9FyQ5hvnPh_4uQucbpRJC8QvdaCwobL-wubmbckBsFTnPA5b9ozVZjboc-kH4IHhrODNvJt9lHsmP0G4klhV/s1600/the_dream_of_gentleman_johnny.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 400px; height: 370px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717841215283915218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7oimT8uDCLSQ5gkv3NRzJRz_2CfKPn2kuEtBJ1D8BFYHvAE53c8YgLkUX9FyQ5hvnPh_4uQucbpRJC8QvdaCwobL-wubmbckBsFTnPA5b9ozVZjboc-kH4IHhrODNvJt9lHsmP0G4klhV/s400/the_dream_of_gentleman_johnny.jpg" /></a>The Dream of Gentleman JohnnyA White Owl Adventure...The state penitentiary in Queen City was old, but strong. No one had ever escaped its walls; except through death, or dreams. The prison was filled with men of all types, the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak. In here nothing mattered except survival; survival until your parole hearing, or until your time was done.One such prisoner was numbered 46112. His name had been Jonathan Foster, but everyone inside and out knew him as Gentleman Johnny. Four years ago, his home had been ransacked and he'd collected several millions of dollars in insurance money for his missing jewelry, art and expensive furnishings.Except a new avenger in Queen City had seen through his plot. And with dogged determination, White Owl had seen justice done, arresting him. It was a case that had helped seal her reputation as a defender of justice. And Gentleman Johnny had gone to prison; forgotten by all his family and friends.Johnny had not forgotten the luxury in which he had lived, however. Not even prison could do that. He stretched, as smiled as the guard entered his cell with deference. “Excuse me Mr Foster, but would you be wanting your morning coffee and the newspaper now?”“I will Price, it will soothe my nerves.” Foster sat up in bed and allowed Price to fluff his pillows before settling back with a steaming cup of Colombian Supreme. Foster studied the financial pages, then the sports. “I see the Gems dropped another one,” he said.Price gently cleared his throat. “Excuse me sir, but the maid wanted to know if she should tidy up in here soon. And the chauffeur wondered if you'd be needing the car this afternoon.”Foster threw the paper on the bed, indignantly. “I don't have the strength to deal with these questions now Price,” he said. “Ask me after two, when I'm well rested!” With that Gentleman Johnny turned his back on the obliging guard. He almost didn't hear the soft rush of the sueded white boots on the floor of his cell. But a pair of delicate, yet powerful hands dragged Foster from the bed.“Get up, rest is for those who have earned it.” Foster knew that voice. It had hounded him until his arrest, spoken against him in court and was the voice of condemnation.“White Owl! Leave me alone!” he howled.“Where do you think you are? An exclusive resort?” The voice was louder, and a gloved fist cracked Gentleman Johnny on the jaw. “Now get up, you have a debt to pay.”Johnny opened his eyes, and instead of the luxurious surroundings, he saw the stark walls of the 6x8 cell he inhabited. And instead of White Owl, he saw Price; no longer obliging.“What's the matter, 46112? Are you trying to pretend you didn't hear the alarm bell again? Get up for roll call and work.“NO White Owl, don't hit me!” said Johnny, then realized who he was talking to. “You'll WISH I was White Owl if you don't get outta that bed NOW!” shouted Price. Foster scrambled to his feet.“Yessir, yessir...”As the work crew marched to the prison gates, Foster's mind stayed focused on his dream. “It was such a lovely dream.” But the harsh realities of the work detail kept him from dwelling on it. But as the day ended, and the inmates reassembled to return to prison, Johnny Foster made a vow.“There's only two things I want out of life,” he said to himself. “To live my dream and to get even with that bitch! And with my brains, and the money I inherited, I can make it come true.”From that day on, one thought alone kept Gentleman Johnny in line. His every waking moment was filled with his dream. “I'll live in a vast suite of cells; but I'll be able to come and go as I please. I'll have guards as my servants. And White Owl...She'll be suffering in solitary on Death Row! And she'll die very VERY slowly.”And with this maniacal thought, Gentleman John Foster prepared for a life outside of prison. It was a madman's dream, but fueled by money and ambition, and without any call of conscience or fairness, it took shape quickly.After the course of a year, Gentleman Johnny was released from prison, his time served. He moved back into his newly renovated mansion, complete with walls of stone and bars in place of doors. His newly hired staff was attired in prison guard uniforms and Gentleman Johnny had a supply of silk jumpsuits in prison orange. Johnny was as happy as he could be.“No one has ever had as much luxury while behind bars as I have,” he told himself. “But I'm lacking one thing. I need to complete the dream. And before the week is over, I'll have my revenge on White Owl.”The Queen City Examiner is an old newspaper, but adapting quickly to stay ahead of new technologies. And one of those is a blind e-mail address for White Owl. People can email problems, reports on criminal activities and requests for help to me. If the issue is something I can handle without disturbing police investigations, then I try to follow up.As one can imagine, a lot of what filters through this system are requests for personal appearances, photographs, and requests from would-be suitors. But every so often I'll find a gem in the system. I was in my apartment near Victory Park one afternoon reading the e-mail, when I found one that piqued my interest.“White Owl; Years ago you sent me to prison. I've been reformed and would like to thank you personally. Would you do me the honor? I want to keep my identity secret, but if you agree, then you can meet my messenger, a prison guard, at Fourth and Elm at midnight.”Obviously, I was curious. And I was also certain it was a trap. Still, I was certain I could handle anything that would come my way.As midnight drew near, I slipped into my high necked leotard, and stepped onto the balcony. I leaped into the night, flying toward the downtown. Below me, I didn't see the large SUV that my tenant and sometimes partner Tiffany drove. But she saw me flying out. “Hmm I wonder where White Owl's going?” she thought. She applied the brake and a few moments later, the Crimson Dynamo followed discretely behind. “It may be nothing,” Crimson thought, “ But if Owl needs backup, she's going to have it.”I scanned the corner from a safe rooftop and saw a nervous man in a guard's uniform staring intently at his watch. He shifted his feet continuously, looking around like someone was about to kill him. I didn't understand his nervousness, and I couldn't see anyone else at hand. I swooped up, then landed at Fourth and Elm, across from the bank and fountain.“I take it you're the guard I'm supposed to meet?” I asked innocently, tapping the guard on the shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin, then settled down. His face looked familiar, but I couldn't put a name to it—like when you see someone you know in a completely unfamiliar setting.“Wh..White Owl!” he said excitedly. “I...I didn't think you were going to show up. But I'm glad you did.”“I'm sure you are,” I replied. “So what's all the mystery?”“My boss wants to meet with you,” he replied.“The warden?” I asked.“No...no...its...well it strange to explain,” he said. “Maybe if you'd just follow me.”We walked west down Fourth, to the old manor section of the city, a distance of about five blocks. The guard stopped in front of one home with a high stone wall, and an iron gate.“This is it,” he announced, opening the gate. Just inside, two guard shacks flanked the short driveway, and behind it, a large three story home loomed over a small courtyard. In the moonlight, I could see the glint of bars against the windows.“Is this a prison?” I asked, astonished.“You might say that,” said my escort. “A private prison with a population of one.”I nodded and followed as another guard motioned us into the foyer of the house. The guard lead me up a flight of stairs and into a hallway filled with cells on either side. “Not so fast,” I said. “Tell me what's going on here.”“You...you'll have your answers in a moment,” he said. He opened a door to a cell block, and stepped back. I looked in and saw a large sitting room, with very plush accommodations. In a comfortable looking chair, I saw the inmate, dressed in a tailored jumpsuit, drinking a snifter of port and smoking a cigar. He looked up and smiled.“White Owl! I'm so glad you took me up on my offer,” he said with genuine enthusiasm.“Gentleman Johnny Foster,” I said. “I wasn't aware you liked prison so much you fixed your home up like one. This is really bizarre.”“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his curly red hair and slipping me a sly smile. “In a way I have you to thank for it.”“Really?” I asked. “How so?”“Well, I never really appreciated the luxuries I took for granted, until you arrested me and I did four years. So I updated my surroundings. And you have to admit that these bars make everything else seem all the more luxurious by comparison.”“Well, it sounds strange, but I can also see the psychological reasons for it,” I admitted.“Of course its not completely like prison,” said Gentleman Johnny, stepping through the open door. “I can come and go as freely as I like. No locks on the cells, you see.”“I'm very impressed Foster,” I said, beaming. “And if you stay on the up and up, there won't be any reason for me to change them back to the steel ones.”“That's funny, White Owl,” said Foster. “Changing other peoples circumstances should be the least of your worries right now. Look behind you.” I whirled and saw that the guard who'd escorted me had been joined by three others. I suddenly remembered where I'd seen the first guard, but somehow it no longer seemed important. Guns cleared holsters, and I ducked, knowing they'd hold fire rather than shoot Johnny.“This is no deterrent Johnny, I've fought rats with guns before. “I leaped forward, tackling a guard; and with a strong right jab, I sent him to lullaby land. Two more pressed in at me, and I back flipped, kicking each of them in the jaw and smiling as they dropped unconscious to the floor.I was about to attack the fourth guard when I heard a whoosh, followed by a large WHACK! My vision blurred, and I felt my knees buckling. A second blow fell against the back of my skull and I dropped like a rag doll to the floor.“You mean you'll be taking a long nap. A permanent nap.” said Johnny.A few minutes later, I pressed my hand to my head and staggered to my feet. I was in a room covered in steel plate, with a heavy door, hinged on the outside in front of me. A thick plate of glass served as a porthole into the room. Looking up, I could see Gentleman Johnny leering at me through the glass. He held up my tool belt and I looked down to see my bared waist. Through a speaker, I heard him say, “Every prison has a Death Row White Owl. This is mine. You took me out of circulation for a long time, and this is payback.”I stood up, placing my hand on the door. “What are you talking about, Foster. Let me out of here!”Foster continued without missing a beat. “See those tubes, White Owl? In a minute, a slow, poison gas is going to come through there. The room will fill up, and you will die, a slow, agonizing death.”“The law will catch up with you Foster,” I said. “You'll answer for this eventually!”“Then I'll see you in hell, White Owl,” he laughed.An acrid scent tickled my nostrils as the first of the poison entered the chamber. I pounded on the door and walls with all my strength, but soon realized I was burning up whatever oxygen was left to me.“If I have to die, then I'm glad it was in battle against criminals,” I thought. “And I'm glad Crimson isn't here to share my grisly fate.”Upstairs, Gentleman Johnny slipped into his king sized bed and sighed. “With White Owl dying in the basement, I ought to sleep better than I ever have,” he said. His valet merely nodded.“You and the other boys watch the cell,” he said. “And when the end is close, get me. I want to see her turning blue, Gus” “Yes sir, Mr. Foster.”“Oh and Gus?”“Sir?”“Shut out my lights.”The room settled into darkness.The Crimson Dynamo stood patiently waiting as White Owl. “I still don't like this,” she said to herself, “But I'll give Owl fifteen minutes before going in after her.” But her patience ran thin, and Crimson used her jump boots to boost herself to the third floor, where she heard Johnny's grim words.“How odd,” she thought, “This place looks like a prison, but the bars are made out of rubber. She easily bent the bars and slipped into a hallway as darkness descended upon the manor. She crept stealthily through the dark house, looking for the stairs. One thought filled her mind. “He said White Owl was still alive. Hold on Athena, I'm coming for you.”She found the stair to the basement. Shooting a line into the wall across from middle stair, Crimson swung into the room. But her foot hit an aluminum beer can, alerting the guards to her presence.“Hey, its the Crimson Dynamo! Stop her!” Crimson bounced off the wall, executed a well timed cartwheel and came up punching at the fake guards. One of them had his club out and took a swing at Crimson. She ducked and came up with an elbow to his solar plexus. The guard OOOMMPHED, then dropped. But the other three guards dove as one, driving Crimson into a wall. She lay dazed an one guard sat on her legs, ready to punch the gallant heroine in the face. “I don't know how you found this place, but you're about to share your friend's fate.”Crimson lifted her arm, aiming blindly at the glass window. “Hope this works,” she muttered. The fist hammered home and she didn't see the result of her errant shot. But I did. The Flash Bang and phosphorus bombs hit at the same time, exploding and shattering the glass porthole to my gas chamber.I scrambled to my feet, and heaved myself through the glass. There was no time to grab my belt; the guard sitting on Tiffany's legs had her semi conscious and was feeling between her legs with his hairy paw. I drew a deep breath, forcing all the poison from my lungs. My healing factor was rapidly restoring my strength and with a rapid succession of lightning fast jabs, I soon had the fake guards unconscious on the floor.“Are you OK?” I asked Crimson, as she roused herself back to full alertness.“Are you out of your mind?” she asked. “You went off alone, to a home of a known felon. Were you TRYING to get yourself killed?”“I thought he'd reformed,” I began.“Criminals NEVER reform,” said Crimson, her gloved finger in my face, scolding.Chastened, we quickly bound the guards and dragged them out of the basement, away from the poison gas.Upstairs, Gentleman Johnny was waking up. “Ahhh What a nice sleep. Now I'm hungry.” He bellowed out, “Skinny, Gus! Bring me some breakfast”His guards stood looking at him, “Look at him, thinking he can order us around. He must be crazy.”“No no, stop talking like that—you work for me, remember?”“I think he needs some time in solitary, Gus, how about you?”The two guards grabbed Johnny and in no time at all, he found himself locked in a solitary cell. “You can't DO this to me. I'm the BOSS! I run this outfit!” He turned from the door and spotted White Owl! “You? But you're dead! I started the gas myself! I killed you!” He jumped and started.But the awakening was worse than the dream. Gentleman Johnny was back in his king-sized bed. “What a horrible dream,” he said. “But White Owl will never bother me again!”But in the darkness of the room, he saw two female figures, silhouetted in the moonlight.“No! It can't be YOU, you're DEAD!”Crimson looked at me and said, “You look pretty good for a corpse.”“Help! Skinny, Gus! Kill them!” shouted Foster.But there was no answer.“Oh that's right, they're handcuffed and unconscious downstairs,” I offered.Foster reached under his pillow and pulled out a lethal looking automatic. “You'll never take me alive!” he cliched.I looked at Crimson and curtsied. Foster's trembling hand kept moving the gun at her, then at me. Finally, Crimson put her gauntlet up and a flash bang exploded in Johnny's face. As he screamed in pain and surprise, I caught him on the aw with a right uppercut. The villain folded and went back to sleep.And so it was that an old customer was returned to the prison; and his dreams are still haunted by the Crimson Dynamo and White Owl.The end...Based on a story from Adventure Comics 492 (which in itself is a reprint) The original is by Simon and kirby--hey if you're going to swipe--swipe the best!Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-83032804194067205822011-05-25T23:43:00.005-04:002011-05-29T20:37:15.194-04:00Ghouls with Credentials<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOY3LTSzHmvyc1LUiAuALekBOwcRTINCtzn9GQvF63sC5CGIUterFCndRUaaYkWlg7bKQLhah6cC1MivgVEvLML99WZTw6B4lAOqZNLBL6vxqpOY_ZjFdUKeQIVIZ_jqYBC0Y9QG1BKdkT/s1600/ghouls+with+credentials+4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 350px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 349px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610866414731325346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOY3LTSzHmvyc1LUiAuALekBOwcRTINCtzn9GQvF63sC5CGIUterFCndRUaaYkWlg7bKQLhah6cC1MivgVEvLML99WZTw6B4lAOqZNLBL6vxqpOY_ZjFdUKeQIVIZ_jqYBC0Y9QG1BKdkT/s400/ghouls+with+credentials+4.jpg" /></a><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLn9bzxWjlZa_DJ6sZkc6Aap3ft_jKUEEtXtc1BBqFoNQmQaPkYjq2tfjKkhNlse8cFCgjsix7raFBqEkBu-pDl5GVg74J_oigVHl976XIEAeZ3BuNi8EXPWbFHXZiTBa-hr62LMEHDxBJ/s1600/ghouls+with+credentials+3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 335px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 358px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610866409192384114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLn9bzxWjlZa_DJ6sZkc6Aap3ft_jKUEEtXtc1BBqFoNQmQaPkYjq2tfjKkhNlse8cFCgjsix7raFBqEkBu-pDl5GVg74J_oigVHl976XIEAeZ3BuNi8EXPWbFHXZiTBa-hr62LMEHDxBJ/s400/ghouls+with+credentials+3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7KPU1FoqnpfYVHF4DDmTrSKwFdb0G-0afa7aX1LdhvRm1cYPeKPAzxUwZVrc_4SpMKbGrEAS-blvZ7qmvfbXg28zfXgXzOvWZ_UBXVuY8z8VDh59xWTFJg4BFgmBDl_-XeSwBE04nByQ/s1600/ghouls+with+credentials+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 344px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 358px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610866406052392482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7KPU1FoqnpfYVHF4DDmTrSKwFdb0G-0afa7aX1LdhvRm1cYPeKPAzxUwZVrc_4SpMKbGrEAS-blvZ7qmvfbXg28zfXgXzOvWZ_UBXVuY8z8VDh59xWTFJg4BFgmBDl_-XeSwBE04nByQ/s400/ghouls+with+credentials+2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEH7Zf0qVwRQTB7wQs0heCUfvgIU1EemI95qgXlHH23X2u5C8DNTcETZT5Qnw6tBWArpDF5_1tbCGDAuHCe7TrQGeBFeTgr2iMN_2mQ2V7V1Nt9m8hlib2ePNbTqo5iqY-hxqZV6mD5Ddx/s1600/ghouls+with+credentials+1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 364px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 358px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610866163140407714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEH7Zf0qVwRQTB7wQs0heCUfvgIU1EemI95qgXlHH23X2u5C8DNTcETZT5Qnw6tBWArpDF5_1tbCGDAuHCe7TrQGeBFeTgr2iMN_2mQ2V7V1Nt9m8hlib2ePNbTqo5iqY-hxqZV6mD5Ddx/s400/ghouls+with+credentials+1.jpg" /></a><br /><br />“Thank you for your hospitality Dr Cruz. You and your family have a lovely home.” I said as I stood on the threshold. A cool April breeze blew across the plain, and I was glad for my leather jacket.<br /><br />“Please Dr. Nikos, I keep telling you it's Carlos. And it is I who should thank you. If it weren't for the Coleman Foundation's support for the project, we couldn't begin to dig for at least another five years.”<br /><br />“All right... Carlos, but only if you call me Athena. And you're the one who deserves the credit. This lost Hohokam pueblo you've discovered should increase our understanding of the Hohokam culture, and perhaps shed some new lights on the histories here.”<br /><br />“But by starting so soon,” he said, “and with the funding in place, we can afford the security to keep the site clear of the predators who would sacrifice my people's history for profit.”<br /><br />I nodded. As I had driven west from Santa Fe, I had seen the roadside stands selling replicas and modern pueblo art. But I was also aware of an underground market in relics as well. Not to mention the occasional treasure hunters looking for the lost cities of Cibola.<br /><br />I stifled a yawn, still not caught up on the time change since flying west, “I'm so sorry Carlos,” I said. “Can we meet tomorrow and finish the paperwork and permits?”<br /><br />My host chuckled. “Of course, Athena. Sleep well,” He walked me to my rented car and saw me down the road. My head was light from the wine, and the most excellent meal served by Mrs Cruz. <br /><br />I drove back to the hotel, thinking how fortunate it was to be working with Dr Cruz. A native expert on Pueblo culture, he'd left the university several years ago to develop a new museum in the Sky City pueblo. He was both the curator and historian in residence, but had operated too long on a shoestring budget. Fortunately I'd been able to convince both Virgil and Dr Chatterjee to support this project. As a result of this dig, the Queen City museum would have first access to the exhibits as well as a permanent loan. <br /><br />I wheeled into the parking lot of the lodge, and picked the way to the cabin. I preferred to stay away from the main buildings when I could, feeling a need for privacy as both White Owl and Athena. And the odd hours I kept at all times made it much easier on other patrons if I didn't stay nearby. I pulled up and found my room key, then stepped into the clean room. I hung my jacket on the rod, then pulled the blinds and stepped into the bathroom. I kicked off my sensible shoes, and unzipped my skirt. I contemplated the shower and decided a shower might shake off my sluggishness from dinner.<br /><br />I started the water and drew the curtain around me letting the hot water cascade down my shoulders and back. I set the shower head to massage and sagged as the needle like streams pounded my pack and shoulders. I noticed the steam from the shower was excessive, then began to cough.<br /><br />“What the hell?” I asked, through the billowing steam. I shut the shower down , clawing for the curtain. I staggered to the bathroom door, clasping a towel around me. The steam continued to billow from the shower head, and I realized it was some sort of sleeping gas . I pulled at the bathroom door, desperate to escape, finally succeeding by pulling the door free from the strike plate.<br /><br />I dropped to my knees and heard the sound of applause. Cocking my head to the left, I saw a man in a dark business suit and a black hood sitting at my desk. Two men, less nattily dressed but still hooded flanked him. They were bigger, muscled, and had their arms crossed in defiance.<br /><br />“Congratulations, Dr Nikos, I see the stories I've heard of your exquisite beauty and your resourcefulness weren't exaggerated. Monty? You owe me five dollars, as she did make it out of the bathroom. The goon on the left handed the man a bill, then the two of them stepped to me, grabbed me by the arms and dragged my nude form across my room; holding me in front of the hooded man.<br /><br />“What...what do you want?” I stammered.<br /><br />“Your expertise in petroglyphs,” said the hooded man. “Your reputation preceded you.”<br /><br />“There are less dramatic ways to contact me.”<br /><br />“True, but we need your silence too.” He motioned and Monty pushed me to the floor. I felt a knee in the back and the other pair of hands pulled my hair back and my head up. I felt a thick silk cloth drawn tightly between my lips. <br /><br />“Nnnph” I mumbled, struggling. <br /><br />“Now I can't have any of that,” said the man, digging into a black case, next to him. I saw a large syringe and an ampoule of something being attached. “Hold her men!” he said.<br /><br />I felt the swab, then the prick of the needle entering my thigh. “This is a standard dose, my dear. You'll sleep a while, then we'll need you in the daylight.” I struggled as the men tied my legs and ankles tightly, then crossed my wrists behind my back and bound them equally tight. The drug kicked in though, and while my healing factor would purge it from my system faster than normally, I still had to go through the experience. My eyes drooped, my head slumped and darkness swallowed me.<br /><br />When the drug wore off, I was in a cramped position, I could feel canvas against my back and rubber against my chest. I could feel us moving too, so I deduced I was in a vehicle, and most likely in the trunk. I also realized I was still nude, a situation I hoped would be rectified soon.<br /><br />The car came to a stop and I went into my act of being unconscious. I felt two sets of none-to-gentle hands pawing at me, lifting me out of the car and carrying me in tandem. I was placed on a cot, and with the sounds of the night, and the wind through canvas, I gathered we were in a campsite somewhere. As no one seemed interested in talking to me or removing my gag; I decided to listen. <br /><br />“Guard her, don't let her out of sight. She's far more clever than she looks and could still get free. Ferd, you take the first shift,Monty the second. We'll get her up before dawn so we can hit the mesa as the sun rises.<br /><br /><br /><br />Someone threw a blanket over me, so I was able to grab some sleep during the night. Obviously, they weren't planning on killing me--they would have done that back at the hotel. The boss' words sounded ominous. I hoped I wasn't in for a day of nude hiking. I made myself as comfortable as I could, fully aware I could break free; but I decided to unravel a bit more of this mystery.<br /><br />I felt a rough hand on my shoulder after a few hours. The blindfold and the sleep had disoriented me even more, but I sat up. I felt something cold and sharp against my wrists, then a flick and the ropes fell away. I reached for my gag and blindfold, pulling them from my face.<br /><br />Both of the goon squad were leering in front of me, though one of them held a shopping bag. He dropped it at my feet.<br /><br />"Get dressed," I heard. "And be quick, the boss wants to see you before it gets too bright. We'll be right outside." He pulled at the other one's sleeve. "C'mon Marty," he added.<br /><br />Curiously, I opened the bag and found some of my own clothes inside. I slipped into a bra and panties, then pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans. The blouse looked like it would have been more useful at the mall than the desert, but beggars can't be choosers my mother always said. I found some thick socks and my hiking boots though, and I laced them on carefully. At the bottom of the bag were my glasses, and while I don't need them, they're a useful device for keeping people from figuring out I'm White Owl. I slipped the wire frames over my ears and frowned.<br /><br />"All right Athena, lets go face this," I said to myself.<br /><br />I stepped to the flap of the tent, and smiled at Ferd. I couldn't see through his hood, but I saw him nod slightly and he pointed at another tent across from "mine." I could see a lantern glowing inside, so I crossed over and said, "Hello?"<br /><br />"Come in Dr Nikos," I heard a muffled voice say. I stepped inside and noticed the well dressed man had changed to something more appropriate to the desert. He still had a hood over his head though, so I still couldn't make out his features.<br /><br />"Please make yourself comfortable," he said, pointing at a camp table with two smaller chairs. "Coffee?" he held up a coffeepot and I nodded, deciding to be gracious.<br /><br />"You have the better of me sir," I said. "How should I address you?"<br /><br />He chuckled, as if remembering an old joke, and said, "You may call me el Conquistador. While it's not my name, my family earned that title a long time ago."<br /><br />I shook my head, and took a sip of the bitter, percolated coffee he gave me. "It's not Starbucks," I said.<br /><br />"No, but it will keep you awake and alert." He pulled a camp stool next to mine and said, "What do you know of Cibola?"<br /><br />I struggled to keep from laughing. "The County?" I replied. "Not much. If you mean the legend, then I know we're allegedly in the wrong part of New Mexico. It's closer to the Zuni pueblo, I believe."<br /><br />"It's not a legend, Dr Nikos, it's real!" he said. <br /><br />"With all due respect, el Conquistador, Father Marcos de Niza very likely lied in order to protect his position with the viceroy. It wouldn't be the first time a priest made up a story. As a result, Coronado followed up on that lie and enslaved the Pueblo people when they couldn't produce the gold."<br /><br />El Conquistador waved his hand dismissively. "Fah, I care nothing for the Spanish lies. And before you remind me about the Zuni never locating Cibola, let me remind you that many have died for smaller secrets and conspiracies. If Cibola was a sacred place, then it makes sense no one would have divulged that information. But there is another source."<br /><br />He paused and then said, "Have you heard of Estabanico? He was a Moor, an educated man and a slave. He had gone with Father Marco, and disappeared on the journey--perhaps to find his freedom. But it was he who translated the legends first, with his gift for languages."<br /><br />"But if he disappeared, how could he leave a record?" I asked.<br /><br />"He didn't disappear. He escaped from the Spanish. He made his way to Alto California, where my family took him in. He left his writings sealed in a wall that weren't unsealed until we began remodeling in the eighties. But the dry walls kept the documents safe. "<br /><br />El Conquistador pulled an ancient leather scroll case from under his bed and I cringed, realizing the age of the case. It was in battered, but useable condition, and the parchments he pulled from it were equally worn.<br /><br />He unrolled the parchment, then placed weights on the corners to hold it flat on the table. I could make out markings in Spanish and a flowing Arabic script as well.<br /><br />"It certainly is old." I remarked. "The age looks about 16th century. And here, in this corner, I see a signature in Arabic that says Estabanico."<br /><br />"Excellent Dr Nikos! I knew I was right in selecting you."<br /><br />"Selecting me for what?" I asked.<br /><br />"You'll see in about four hours," said El Conquistador. "But you may gain a clue, if you look here." He pointed to a mesa on the map. The words beneath it said, "Point the way to Cibola."<br /><br />I adjusted my glasses, and scowled. The maps of the sixteenth century weren't noted for cartographic accuracy, so aside from being in New Mexico, I had no real knowledge of where we were.<br /><br />"Why should I help you?" I asked.<br /><br />"Because if you don't I will kill you here, and no one will ever find you. But if you do, you'll go down with Howard Carter and Henry Jones as one of the premiere archaeologists of all time. Think of it Dr Nikos--a chance to prove the legend accurate!"<br /><br />I considered my options and nodded. "All right, I'm in. It seems I have no choice."<br /><br /><br /><br />As soon as I said I was in, I held my hand out to agree to the arrangement. To my surprise El Conquistador took my hand in his, then I felt the cold metal of a handcuff tightening around my wrist.<br /><br />“What's this?” I said. “I agreed to work with you.”<br /><br />The second cuff snapped tight against my wrist and I jerked at it. El Conquistador had used a standard police issue handcuff, similar to the ones in Queen City. I knew I had a cuff key in my purse and also in my tool belt; neither of which was with me. Still, with my enhanced strength, I knew I could shatter the chain holding the bracelets together with a minimum of effort. <br /><br />“You're still far too resourceful Dr Nikos,” said El Conquistador. I've read Randal Courtney's account of your escape from the slave traders while you were in Egypt. And your own account of the ruined temple of Thoth from two years earlier. You may be a phenomenal archaeologist, but your a pretty cunning little tomb raider as well,<br /><br />I cringed at that apt description. Despite all the hard science and historical data we were able to uncover, it appeared that Lady Lara Croft was still the golden ideal for women in archeology.<br /><br />“Look,” I said. “I'm not going to be much use to you with handcuffs. How can I climb? I can't even carry a canteen or a backpack.”<br /><br />“There won't be any need for that, yet,”said El Conquistador. “Its just an easy hike to where we're going first. He helped me to my feet, and with a hand on my shoulder, steered me from his tent to the center of the camp.<br /><br />“Is everything ready?” he asked Ferd.<br /><br />“Yes el Conquistador, he replied. I noticed both the men were carrying packs and lanterns, even though the sun was just coming up. I looked around, then felt myself being turned. To the north el Conquistador pointed out a large mesa. <br /><br />“That is Walker's Table,” he replied, offhandedly. Its reputed to be haunted, but its also marked on Estebanico's map. That's where I made my discovery, and you'll soon see the reason I needed you.<br /><br />Ferd led the way, I followed in the second spot, and El Conquistador and Marty brought up the rear. I sensed the nervousness and excitement as we trudged down an old and long discarded trail. The path wound through scrub, and desert, and I sensed the gentle rise as we drew near to Walker's Table.<br /><br />The base of the mesa was long, with several crevasses, some shallow, some very deep. We stopped in front of one of them long enough for the fluorescent lanterns to be lit. El Conquistador took the point, and with his hiking staff, he grabbed my cuffed wrists and dragged me into the cavern behind him.<br /><br />Unerringly, he led the way deep into the mesa; and I followed, putting my feet where his had stepped.<br /><br />“Stay close, Dr Nikos,” he said. “The Hohokam weren't as devious as some, but they protected their secrets well.” The path narrowed, then came to point where we had to crawl on hands and knees to squeeze through a small opening. <br />But it opened onto a vast gallery, free of any stalactites. I could see smoke smudges on the walls, but also a shaft of sunlight from high above. This room alone was an archaeological treasure and I drank it in with a heady feeling.<br /><br />“This isn't Cibola, is it?” I asked in a hushed tone.<br /><br />“No, this was a hiding place; a fortress where many hid during the conquests. But much of the gold WAS hidden here at one point, I have no doubt,” said el Conquistador. “Your job is to find out where it went.” He aimed a lantern at a point on the wall and I saw several petroglyphs carved there. <br /><br />“You know, glyphs aren't writing,” I said tentatively.<br /><br />“No, you're right,” said El Conquistador. “But they are communications. A record of some sort. For instance, that one tells of a successful buffalo hunt. And there...a raid on another pueblo, where many were killed. But those,” he said, returning the light to the wall in front of me, “show Spaniards, and the quest for gold. Those are relevant.”<br /><br />I felt a clipboard with a sketchbook and a pencil being shoved into my hands. Breathlessly I began sketching, my brain trying to make sense of the story being told. I soon found that I could read the glyphs, almost like writing; and I attributed this to the wisdom of Athena.<br /><br />"You're right about one thing, el Conquistador," I said, hesitatingly. "This was a hiding place. According to these records, many women and children were hidden here while their men went to become slaves or to die. But many warriors also were here. " <br /><br />I pointed to one cluster of glyphs. "Here is a meeting with Estebanico," I said.<br /><br />"How can you tell that?" asked el Conquistador.<br /><br />"He's carved out of rock, but they've taken pains to darken his body with soot. He's not like the other figures, do you see?"<br /><br />El Conquistador nodded. I continued. "If you watch, Estebanico begins to change in the next set. He becomes hunchbacked, feathers shooting out of his head and he dances. In short, the Hohokam see him as Kokopelli, the Trickster. In some regards they were right because he tricked the Spanish. Cibola wasn't the original Zuni pueblo, that was a false lead!"<br /><br />"I knew that my lovely doctor," said el Conquistador. I felt a pair of powerful hands on my shoulders and a whisper of cold steel caressed my throat. "But if you don't come up with something more substantial, then I'm afraid you'll join the skeletons in the next cavern.<br /><br />"There are skeletons?" I asked, excitedly.<br /><br />"Yes, why?"<br /><br />"Because the glyphs end here--but they indicate people with their mouths shut permanently. Apparently these people had the secret shut up with them. But we need to see. Take me please?" I raised my cuffed hands toward him and I think I surprised him. Instead of anger, I could sense el Conquistador softening. He helped me to my feet, then with reverential silence, led me to the ossuary.<br /><br />Because that's what it was. A room full of bones in tidy order, with the skulls lined up along one wall. "This is incredible," I began, eager to sketch the room.<br /><br />"Not now, Doctor," said my captor. "We have a mission."<br /><br />I sighed heavily, knowing several years work still wouldn't reveal all the secrets of Walker's Table. Still there were glyphs on the walls here too. <br /><br />I scrutinized them closely, and found the clues I was looking for. "Cibola is west of here. I'd guess Arizona. According to these glyphs its 3 days journey to the west."<br /><br />"But that would be by foot," said el Conquistador. "We have a Tahoe." He brought me to my feet again, and we began retracing the way out of the cavern. <br /><br />I stopped at a cranny in the walls--something was reflecting the lantern. Reaching deep, I pulled a soft gold chain free.<br />I hadn't been noticed, as el Conquistador was talking with his men. I shoved the chain into my pocket for study later and caught up.<br /><br />The men led me back down the path but the gentle slope was deceiving, and I slipped on loose scree, tumbling down the side of a bluff. I struggled to get to my feet and heard the rattling of a sidewinder. Looking slowly to my left, I saw the serpent three feet away, perched on a loose boulder.<br /><br />"Snakes," I said. "Why did it have to be snakes?" I tried to stand slowly, but felt my ankle swelling.<br /><br />"Are you all right, Doctor?" I heard from above.<br /><br />"NO!" I shouted. "There's a rattlesnake next to me and he doesn't want to be friends!"<br /><br />"Stay perfectly still Doctor!" I heard....<br /><br /><br /><br />Obeying the order not to move, I kept my eye on the swaying rattlesnake. The snake managed to look back and the staring contest seemed interminable. I was tempted to use a bit of my super strength to throw rocks, but just as that thought completed in my mind, I jumped at the report of a high powered pistol.<br /><br />The snake's head exploded and the body flopped. Instinct took over and I screamed, covering my head and dropping face down into the rubble. A moment later, I saw a pair of desert boots at my feet.<br /><br />"Can you stand, Dr Nikos?" I heard a voice say. <br /><br />"I think so," I said, pushing against the rocks and coming to my feet. I winced slightly and el Conquistador knelt at my side. <br /><br />"Hmmm, there's a little swelling, but I think that's stress and not a sprain. Still better safe...." Ferd and Monty came to either side.<br /><br />"Support her--but let her walk it off. She'll be fine soon."<br /><br />By the time we reached the Tahoe, I was fine. My healing factor wasn't called into question, though I did act a little stiff as we climbed into the truck. Monty took the wheel, and el Conquistador insisted I sit in the passenger seat.<br /><br />"You know the route, it makes sense to have you navigate." I nodded and we pulled out on a flat, dirt road heading west. The desert was vast, but not flat and I studied the mesas, saguaro and scrub; wondering how anyone could eke out a living in such a place. Yet there had been a high civilization here. Art flourished, legends and tales, a whole culture. That is wasn't European in orientation didn't make it any less civilized.<br /><br />"Every civilization falls to someone, Dr Nikos," I heard from behind me. I turned and saw el Conquistador leaning back.<br /><br />"Its true, Doctor, every civilization falls to a stronger one at some point. And archaeologists sift through the rubble, ghouls with credentials."<br /><br />I opened my mouth to protest and he held up his hand. "Spare me the platitudes about preserving history for future generations. We're both seekers after treasure. I just happen to desire wealth, while you desire notoriety." I felt there was little I could say to that.<br /><br />About two hours later, a large mesa arose in front of us and I asked Monty to pull over. "This is it," I said.<br /><br />"Are you sure?" <br /><br />"Positive."<br /><br />"But there's no way into the wall. Where's Cibola?"<br /><br />I scanned the area and found the washout I was looking for. I lead up to the mesa wall and pushed aside thick brush. "In here," I said.<br /><br />Monty and Ferd cut away the brush, exposing a tight crevice in the wall. I squeezed in and was relieved when it opened wider about fifteen feet in. I asked for a flashlight, and waited for the rest of them to catch up.<br /><br />Once again, El Conquistador took the point, pushing through the narrow arroyo, with little regard for the glyphs on either side. But the canyon widened and opened into an open cliff dwelling, I looked up, seeing the sunlight dimming overhead. But in the sunlight, the canyon gleamed with the luster of gold.<br /><br />"We found it! We found it!!" El Conquistador could scarcely contain his enthusiasm. "Break out the tools boys, we're going to start digging." Ferd opened his pack and produced two picks. Similarly, Mort had two trenching tools in his. Surprisingly, El Conquistador had dynamite in his pack.<br /><br />"You can't!" I wailed. "This is a national treasure! We have to preserve it, study it..." I heard the cocking of a pistol.<br /><br />"Your usefulness is about at an end Doctor," said El Conquistador. You can either help us, or you can die."<br /><br />"How old do you think this is?" asked Mort, holding up a golden goblet. <br /><br />I looked at it, then said, "Seven hundred years at least."<br /><br />El Conquistador nodded. "All right then, Dr Nikos. You dig, here. And you can answer questions. But any funny business, and you die. Now I want you to dig right here...your section is six by four and about six feet deep, understood?"<br /><br />I nodded, grimly; and fully aware I was digging my own grave. <br /><br />About two hours into our arrival I heard "Fire in the hole!" I dove into my foxhole/grave and covered my head. <br /><br />"Aw crap," I heard Monty say. "It didn't work."<br />"GET BACK YOU FOOL," then WHOOOOOOMMMMM!!!<br /><br />The cavern walls where we came in began crumbling. Because of the explosion I couldn't hear anything but when the dust cleared, I found the bodies of Monty and Ferd, both very dead.<br /><br />El Conquistador lay nearby, slowly moving. His legs were bent in ways no legs should move and I could see blood oozing from his waist.<br /><br />I knew I had to act. Standing up, I pulled, snapping the chains linking my bonds. I knelt next to El Conquistador, tying his legs tightly with tourniquets, then unmasking him.<br /><br />I was not surprised to find Dr Cruz, my host, under the mask. I rigged and wrapped him, to keep him relatively immobile, then flew him out of the blind canyon and back to the Tahoe. Monty had left the keys, and I started the truck, then headed further west, knowing that we'd passed no hospitals coming in. We were fortunate, for within 10 minutes, I found a small regional hospital.<br /><br />Dr Cruz was rushed into emergency surgery and I sat and fretted. I was able to call my hotel and let them know I needed an extra day or two. They gladly extended my time.<br /><br />Sitting in the small chapel at the hospital, Dr Chandrakoury came to me and said, "He's asking for you,"<br /><br />I found Dr Cruz in the recovery room, but Dr Chandrakoury said, "He doesn't have long. Be gentle."<br /><br />I sat next to the bed, looking into the old man's face. So many questions...and all I could ask was "Why?"<br /><br />"I am an old man, Doctor. And heavily in debt. I have a gambling problem at the casinos and my income is in jeopardy for the next year. The museum had evidence and was about to fire me. I faced a bitter future with no pension, and this was my way to retire successfully."<br /><br />"But your wife?"<br /><br />"She left me four years ago. She wasn't there when I fed you. It was another ruse." Cruz began coughing and I leaned closer.<br /><br />"You flew," he whispered. "You flew me out."<br /><br />"Did I?" I asked. "Or were you dreaming."<br /><br />Cruz shook his head. "No you flew. You are more than an archaeologist I think. You are an arbiter of order, a keeper of the peace. Are you Mongwa?"<br /><br />"Lets just say I'm an Owl."<br /><br />Dr Cruz nodded then gasped. The EKG began to flatline and alarms began ringing throughout the ICU.<br /><br />"Out!" said Dr Chandrakoury. So out I went. And waited.<br />Thirty minutes later, Dr Chandrakoury came out, a grim look on his face.<br /><br />"We did everything we could," he said. "But his years, and his injuries...I...I'm sorry."<br /><br />I shook the doctor's hand. "I'm sure you did. And I'll notify the next of kin, Doctor. Thank you for all you've done."<br /><br />I walked out of the hospital, and cried as I sat in the Tahoe.<br /><br />The end...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-60491881816642253382010-12-31T05:43:00.002-05:002010-12-31T05:45:52.660-05:00In the Blink of an Eye<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-isoNhaE4QXiaOFAx50xj__ZZSe4YJ7HbNqhn0fLutOFsImup95zrEPAik3bxFYyrLfG6R7Zy4wmNaPyuAxC6A58yYfrDgZp9yDb7hObxWTwrW1G_kUtUa5Iu7IZDDKma-tl1W1urqi5U/s1600/in+the+blink+of+an+eye.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556795455854091378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-isoNhaE4QXiaOFAx50xj__ZZSe4YJ7HbNqhn0fLutOFsImup95zrEPAik3bxFYyrLfG6R7Zy4wmNaPyuAxC6A58yYfrDgZp9yDb7hObxWTwrW1G_kUtUa5Iu7IZDDKma-tl1W1urqi5U/s400/in+the+blink+of+an+eye.jpg" /></a><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">In the Blink of an Eye...a White Owl Adventure<br /></span></strong>I was back in Queen City as the traveling curator of a new collection of artifacts I'd spent the summer carefully excavating in Twinfort-on-Sea, England. Dr Chatterjee had stepped out of his office with a large scowl on his face.<br />"Not your usual assortment of gold and gems, is it Athena?" he glowered, arching his thick eyebrows.<br />"Well no. But I did find a Saxon drinking horn, fully intact and it had dried mead still inside. And the expedition also turned up valuable fertility fetish. Personally I think it's ugly, but Lloyd's insured it for a million dollars. Additionally I learned a lot about the Saxon invasions that led to England becoming mostly Anglo and Saxon. So despite finding few 'trinkets' Dr Chatterjee, I think it was money well spent."<br />"Well spent by the museum?" he asked.<br />"No, I went under the auspices of an exchange program between Angel Falls University and Twinfort's St Methodius college. I think there may have been a grant from the Nikos Fund too." I smiled widely and Chatterjee harrumphed, waddling back to his office. I stifled a laugh and made my own way down the hall to the visiting curator's office. I couldn't use the one that had been mine before--a new archaeologist in residence was there, though from all accounts she had offers pending from Philadelphia and Las Vegas.<br />I had no sooner turned the key in the lock when I heard a "SQUEEEEE!!! ATHENA!!!!" and a short bundle of effervescence and joy grabbed me from behind. "When did you get in?" I heard from under the carrot orange hair.<br />"Hi Cassidy! I got in late last night. I'm here to run the new Saxon exhibit for a month, then I'm back to Angel Falls. How are you?" Cassidy Yeats is the Queen City Museum Center's director of fine arts, a 5'1" dynamo of pure energy.<br />"I'm terrific Athena. We just opened a new exhibit last week--a fantastic collection of Chinese and Japanese Imperial art; along with a selection of royal jewelery. Want to see it?"<br />"I'd love to Cassidy. But can I come after closing?"<br />"Sure thing, one of the perks of the job; or so I'm told. Meet me here after 6 and I'll give you a tour, then you can buy me dinner."<br />"OK but I wasn't aware you liked Gold Line chili," I said.<br />"Not that! Anything but that!" Cassidy mimed dying, then smiled. "I'll pick a place that won't pick your pocket too badly, Chica. TTFN!" She blew a kiss at me and swooshed down the hall. I swear, I could never be that happy until after my second cup of coffee. I sat at the unfamiliar desk, and opened my briefcase, going over the liner notes for the exhibit. Actually it was pretty routine and after a couple hours I wandered down to the snack bar for some of the better coffee the museum serves. The lobby was full, which was surprising for a weekday, and I wandered along with the crowd, eager to see the Egyptian exhibits I'd brought back two years previously.<br />After my short walk, I went back to my own area. Things were going well, though Chatterjee was close by, wringing his hands. "I can't believe it Ms Nikos. This will cost us so much money! No one is coming. NO ONE."<br />I looked at the crowd. Yes it was small, but the faces seemed intelligent and interested. What's more, they seemed about the right size based on the exhibit's showings in both Angel Falls and Tampa; both earning double of what any comparable exhibit had earned. When I informed Chatterjee of this he grimaced, then strode off again like a hungry and worried tiger. The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly and I found myself heading to Cassidy's office after closing.<br />"Heya Chica!" she bubbled as I pushed open the door. "I'm all set for my show and a dinner!" Cassidy's knee length skirt was gray wool tonight, matching the gray water silk of her blouse. Her hair was carrot orange (as noted before) and her eyes danced as she talked to me about the art and treasures. "You won't believe how difficult it was to get these for an exhibit Athena. And it wasn't the Chinese that were so difficult, believe it or not. Chatterjee was not thrilled either, but once the first week's receipts were in, he mellowed out a little. Believe it or not he even half smiled at me."<br />"You're kidding, right?" I asked in astonishment. Chatterjee keeps a tight watch on the museum's bottom line, and if things look even slightly down, he's sulky. And when they're fantastic, he's sulky. But Cassidy kept to her story. She nodded at Walter, the guard at the art exhibit and we both showed our badges to him. After dutifully signing the after hours log, Cassidy led me into the art gallery.<br />The walls were hung with beautiful ink artworks from China and Japan, along with some gorgeous jade and terra cotta statuary. I gasped in amazement, trying to take it all in. I turned to look at Cassidy, to get her reaction when I felt something grip my shoulder. In the blink of an eye, I found myself bound back to back with Cassidy. Another eye blink and a thick gag was shoved in my mouth and my blouse was opened revealing a powder blue bra. I felt something squeeze my breasts and gasped in astonishment. Behind me, I could hear Cassidy squeal as well. I watched helplessly in horror as with alarming speed, the walls of the art exhibit emptied.<br />It was over in just over three minutes. The robbery that is. I wriggled along with Cassidy and it took us another minute or two to get the gags out of our mouths. Our now unmuffled cries alerted Walter and soon both he and Michael were in the exhibition hall, unbinding Cassidy and me. After he got the ropes off, Walter looked at the walls of the room and whistled. "Whoowie...someone's got some explaining to do."<br />"So much for a homecoming dinner," whimpered Cassidy. "And so much for my career."<br />"Don't worry Cassidy. The police will get him," I said.<br />"How? He's an invisible man!"<br />"He can't be," I said. "But he may be moving very quickly."<br />Lieutenant Sipowitcz of the QCPD was kind with his questioning. After I was questioned, I waited while he debriefed Cassidy, I managed to sit in the security control room with Walter, Michael and Tami. The petite blonde security guard was new, but dedicated to her job.<br />"I didn't see anything Dr Nikos. It was like the cameras were on--then they went off." She ran the tape of Cassidy and me entering the gallery then the images showed us sitting down and tied. Then the screen went blank and the security alarm recorded a door fault at loading dock three.<br />"Can you slow it down?" I asked.<br />"Yes but I still can't see anything. It all happens so quickly."<br />I nodded. "I was there, remember?"<br />Tami smiled. "Yeah I guess you were. Are you ok?"<br />"Well I wouldn't say no to more coffee, but otherwise I'm fine. You said there was a fault at the loading dock?" I thanked Michael as he refilled my cup.<br />"Yes, but when I checked it out, the door was secured. I think it may have been a glitch in the system."<br />"Do we have a camera out there?" I asked.<br />"Yes. But I don't see anything at the dock." She brought up that tape and the time stamp showed the empty dock. But I could see a panel van idling at the extreme perimeter of the camera's sweep. In the brief three minutes, I could see the driver's door open, then I saw the back door open. A minute later the doors were shut and in the third minute I saw the van slowly driving out.<br />"Of course!" I thought. "He has to expend so much energy in his run that he needs a vehicle to allow him time to recover!" I memorized the license plate, intending to have the Guild run it for me after I got home. Cassidy stuck her head in the door. "Hey Athena. Lieutenant Sipowitcz says we're done for now. Can I take a rain check on dinner?"<br />"Sure, Cassidy. But only if you can drive me back to Victory Park. I missed my bus. It seems I was a little tied up when it came." Cassidy laughed and agreed. Twenty-five minutes later, I was climbing the stairs to my old apartment. I looked at apartment one, still empty after three months and knew there had to be a tenant out there. I wandered on up the stairs, opening the door to my "penthouse" and locked it behind me. Since my arrival the night before, I had groceries and clean sheets on the bed; but tonight would be no time for rest.<br />I slipped upstairs and found my old costume, hanging in the secret closet I'd installed. I pulled the shoulder straps up and realized how much I'd missed this costume. Cinching my belt around my waist, I slipped into the new gloves Mr Wickersham had made for me. I left my mask on top of my head, then sat down at the computer to do my research.<br />I found two similar robberies reported in the last month. One had been a government research center near Overland Park and the other had been a Monitor and Wager off site facility in Zenith. In both cases, there had been no alarms, no one was seen and in both cases any potential witnesses had been swiftly dealt with. Apparently, the Monitor and Wager theft had been incomplete--the papers indicated the main research was being conducted at the Queen City offices.<br />I spent the rest of the night patrolling near Monitor and Wager's offices and research park downtown. The building was brightly lit and well patrolled but I knew now it would make little difference. About 3:30 am, though, I noticed a pattern of lights blinking on and off through the building--in one second bursts. I had him.<br />I scanned nearby parking garages and found the van on the eighth floor. Two minutes passed and I heard the engine start. I emerged from behind my pillar and braced myself to stop the van. I heard brakes squeal and caught the van as it roared at me. The van's wheels spun, creating a layer of black smoke. I heard the van go out of gear, then looking up, I saw the driver's door was open. I looked inside the van--it was empty. Warily, I floated over the top of the van and landed in the back. The doors were ajar and I swung them wide. Aside from some old gray tarps, a bag of cheeseburgers and two black briefcases, the van was empty. Where had he gone?<br />Too late I remembered the speed with which this robber move. I felt a heavy arm grab my midsection, pinning one arm to my side. I swung free and saw him...dressed in a green and brown body suit, close cropped blonde hair. I pivoted on my right foot and launched a roundhouse kick to his head. But I wound up spinning in place. Goddess! He moved so swiftly.<br />"Over here, White Owl," I heard. He stood mocking me with his arms crossed. I sprung and dove at him, then slammed my head into a heavy concrete pillar where he'd been standing an eye blink before. I dropped to my hands and knees, woozy from the heavy blow to my forehead.<br />A thick cloth filled with an acrid smell was clamped over my nose and mouth. I swung wildly, but the gas was taking its toll and I soon drooped over unconscious in my attacker's arms. He dragged me to the open doors in the back of the van and pushed my unconscious form inside. From an inner pouch in his belt he drew a small hypodermic needle and with a steady hand he jabbed it into my thigh. "I thought I might have to deal with you , heroine; so I came prepared," he growled. My eyes fluttered from the needle's prick, then I was completely out.<br />"I'll deal with you later," he growled. "I need to put some miles between here and now, before I can play though." He jumped back into the cab and slowly accelerated out of the parking garage. Though Queen City is a relatively large place, within 20 minutes in any direction it can be very rural and very wooded. The driver headed east out of the city, and followed the river. I don't think he counted on my recovery powers though and it wasn't long before I began to moan with the first sounds of coming back to consciousness. The driver glanced back, frightened, then pulled into a closed county park about fifteen minutes later. The park was secluded, with no camping and no gates. He pulled up to a scenic overlook and stopped the van.<br />"A bit sooner than I would have liked," he said to himself, rolling out of the driver's seat. I slowly sat up, trying to get my bearings. The back door to the van popped open then and I gazed again into the face of my captor. He leered as he watched my disorientation.<br />"Well, what have we here?" I asked, still feeling sluggish.<br />"You can call me Doppler," he said. "Or better still, your worst nightmare."<br />"Oh I can think of scarier things than you," I began, reaching for my toolbelt. But I felt a strong blow on the side of my head. Reeling in pain, I clutched at my scalp,. Doppler seemed not to have moved. But I saw in his right hand, he held a large softball bat, and in his left...my belt?<br />Gasping in shock, I reached for my belt but my trim waist was bare. I looked up and saw the bat coming down at my forehead again. I tried to block it but wasn't fast enough. I drooped over to my side, struggling to maintain balance on my hands and knees. Doppler wasted no time grabbing my right wrist and jerking me over on my back. I heard a pair of clicks and looked in shock as my wrist was clamped tightly to the seat frame. With amazing swiftness, Doppler soon secured me to both seat frames, then locked my ankles to the hinges of the van doors. With horror I saw the restraints were my own.<br />"Nice of you to bring your own bondage devices White Owl," he said. "It will make it easier."<br />I glared at Doppler, fighting to keep my fear at bay. "What is it you want Doppler?" I asked.<br />"Well, I could go for a couple shakes and a few burgers about now," he replied with a smirk. Then pulling a large pocket knife from his own belt, he crept into the van and hissed, "But I've got another thought in mind right now." He slipped the sharp blade up against my throat and laughed.<br />"I could kill you now, White Owl," he said. "But that seems like such a waste. So lets start with this." He slit the two shoulder straps of my costume, then set the knife aside and pulled the front of my costume down. My breasts glowed under the dome light, and Doppler grinned.<br />"You can't!" I said in astonishment. "You can't do thi....AAAAUUUGGGHH!!"<br />Doppler squeezed my breasts and twisted them, then bit down on the dark brown aureola. His tongue lapped greedily at the nipple and I felt my breasts getting firmer with each unwanted squeeze. "Not the biggest tits I've ever seen, but these are certainly among the nicest." He continued to squeeze and suck on my breasts. I rocked back and forth, trying to snap the cuffs, or trying to flex my knees and get free. Doppler's hands slipped down inside my costume, cupping my breasts. I gasped as he continued his unwanted touching. He straddled me and put his hands on my wrists; his foul breath turning my head. "I'll bet you've never been this helpless, have you White Owl? Well I think I have something that's just been waiting for you." My heart was racing, and I was feeling very vulnerable.<br />I felt a his manhood pressing against my breasts as he leaned in. "No," I whimpered. "You can't do this to me."<br />"Sure I can; it's easy." Doppler slid down my body and pulled the costume along behind him. He lifted my tail from the floor and peeled the leotard down past my thighs. I heard him chuckle as he exposed my pale blue thong underneath my leotard. "Oh this is JUST what I needed," he said. His knife came out again and with two swift snicks my thong was removed, exposing my swollen pussy to his leering gaze.<br />"I HAVE to tap that," he said. But first he took my thong and balled it up, then shoved it into my mouth.<br />"MMMPPPHHH!!!" I protested. but my raging fell on deaf ears. Doppler pulled his pants free and dropped between my knees. Tears formed in my eyes as his throbbing cock pressed against my velvet nether lips. I screamed into the gag as Doppler plowed his way deep into my womanhood. I moaned in pain as his sausage sized penis spread me wider and wider apart. I twisted, trying to throw him off. In fact, I tried to resist as long as I could, but bound as I was, Doppler had an easy time with me. My body bucked, rocked and twisted. I squealed into my gag, the sour taste of my panties nearly choking me. Surely this wasn't happening, I thought. I'm White Owl--a superheroine! Apparently my body didn't know all that because my back arched as he plunged ever deeper and I could feel myself tightening to accept his offerings.<br />"Nooooo," I thought. "I can't let him win. I can't lose...not like this." Just when I felt I was about to give in, I felt Doppler stop pumping, and felt his warm seed spilling inside of me. I screamed in fury and frustration. Tears filled my eyes as well as my juices mingled with his. My body relaxed a bit, weak from the afterglow of the long night. Doppler wasn't finished though and he shoved his chloroform infused rag into my face.<br />"Nightly night White Owl," he muttered. The world went red, then gray, then black.<br />I woke with a shiver and a start. Looking around, I saw the constellations milling above me and the moon drifting toward the Ohio in the west. My legs and arms felt like rubber, my head was clouded and I could feel the shame of failure rising inside me. I was tied to a large pine tree, but my weapons belt and handcuffs were gone. I sat in a bed of pine needles, with the remnants of my costume pulled around my ankles. I pulled at the ropes, and felt the hemp snapping as I did, then rose shakily to my feet. I pulled the shreds of my costume up, and tied the leotard over one shoulder. Feeling fear for the first time, I rose unsteadily into the air and flew back to Victory Park for a quick change.<br />The computer pinged as soon as I activated the tracer in my belt. Wherever Doppler had taken it, I could find it. I doubt he knew I was coming, and so I had the element of surprise. A fifteen minute flight later, I was nearing Meadowbrook, or more specifically an old farmhouse and barn outside the small community.<br />"Are you sure White Owl can't find us Doppler?" asked Willie, as he and his four companions watched Doppler shifting information onto several flash devices. Two empty cases of beer lay nearby and each of the men were nursing a cold one.<br />"Positive. And I left her in such a way she wouldn't WANT to find me," he laughed. Then he frowned. "Damn, I forgot the art and gems are in the house. Pete? Go warm up the van. The rest of you, start cleaning this place--we don't want the cops to find us. I'll be right back. With a blur, Doppler disappeared.<br />The men headed to the barn, grumbling about the scut work. But Willie looked up in shock when he saw Pete come flying out the barn's door. I followed behind, my hands balled confidently on my hips. "Where's Doppler?" I demanded.<br />"Christ! Look what she did to Pete!!" shouted Tony. Get her!" Guns were drawn and bullets flashed. I'm certain the men were marksmen because I could feel the fusillade of bullets bouncing from the Nu Silk. I grabbed the nearest gunman, bending his wrist against a tractor and he dropped his gun; howling in pain.<br />"You idiots," said Willie. "We can't stop her with bullets!" The remaining three charged at me, and I grabbed the nearest one, throwing him into the van's side with a loud clang. The other two double teamed me, one going high, one going low. I jumped up, grabbing a cross beam and kicked out, knocking the high one into the the lower.<br />I studied the grounded men, smiling. "Give up boys?" I asked. Then without warning, I felt a whoosh and found my arms chained tightly to my body. My wrists were once again restrained behind me; this time with my own heavy duty cuffs. The chains wrapped above and below my breasts and I squirmed uncomfortably.<br />"Welcome back White Bitch!" said Doppler. In his hand he again held my belt. "It was nice of you to bring me more of your toys." He pushed me back into the collection of woozy henchmen and laughed.<br />"How...how do you do that?" I asked breathlessly.<br />"Well White Owl, one night as I was robbing the Tyler Chemical factory, a freakish bolt of lightning came through an open window, shattering several chemicals. I was doused, but otherwise all right. But when it came time to make my escape, I found I could run faster than a blue streak. Only I had to eat like crazy to keep my energy levels normal. Price you pay, right?" He winked at me. "And speaking of prices to pay, keep her entertained boys. I'm off to arrange the sale of these artworks and the technology. I think I can arrange an extra buyer for White Owl as well. Don't forget to chloroform her when you're done having fun." He bid them a cheery wave and climbed into the van, disappearing down the winding county road.<br />His men were on me like hungry dogs on a steak. Restrained with my own handcuffs, I was no match for the five men and after a few moments of kicking and attempting to fly, I found myself on my back, with eager pawing hands pulling my costume down and away. I soon found myself without my leotard and was thrown to the floor. Willie straddled my shoulders and stuck his erect member into my face. "Suck this bitch!" he said, pulling my dark hair and forcing my mouth onto his massive cock. "No," I screamed. " You can't do this to mmmbblee..." His foul penis was shoved forcefully into my mouth, and I tasted the salt sweat.<br />Tony reached behind Willie and began playing with my breasts, kneading, squeezing and biting at them. Pete unzipped his pants and the other two held my legs flat and apart, so the goon could plant himself into my private garden.<br />Willie was so excited at the prospect of raping a heroine, he seized almost immediately. I felt a coppery, acidic liquid hit the back of my throat and gagged. Willie laughed and grabbed my hair again, pulling me back onto his not so stiff member. "We aren't done yet, lady," he said.<br />"No...No more...Pleammmmbbblleee.."<br />My hips were gyrating wildly too as Pete drove his huge penis deeper and deeper into me. I couldn't hold out, and my body betrayed me, bucking like a mare. It took several minutes but he too exploded inside me spreading semen along my thighs and crotch. Spent, Pete shifted off of me and Tony took his turn.<br />Willie came again, spewing my face with his foul seed. I choked on the semen and he laughed. As he stood to change places, I tried to escape, but another goon was there almost immediately. My eyes grew wide with terror as I was penetrated repeatedly, the gang bang continuing for what seemed like forever. My breasts were bruised and sore, my legs were crusted over and I felt less like a heroine than ever. My body was running on pure instinct, raising and falling with each thrust into my tortured vagina. After the third climax, my head shot back and I screamed, and then my mind blanked--I have no conscious remembrance of what happened.<br />Finally the last man gave up and I felt the thick cloth cover my face. The sickly sweet smell of the chloroform again seized my brain. I tried to resist, but was unable to move my head much. I drooped, my head laying against my sweat stained and bruised breasts.<br />I don't know how long I lay there, but I woke faster than the men. My body's healing ability handled the chloroform faster than anyone might have imagined. I also realized Doppler hadn't informed his men of this little fact and for that I gave thanks.<br />I was laying on my side, bound with heavy rope. Someone had decided to practice their bondage fetish on me, and I was wearing a rope harness , complete with a tight crotch tie. The chains that had held me were still linked around my breasts, now framed with a nice rope. As I struggled to a sitting position, I found my muscles stiff and unresponsive. The knotted crotch rope climbed into my battered pelvis and I drew a sharp intake of air as my still overly sensitive pussy was once again stimulated. It hurt to move and the restrictions of the ties made it even more difficult.<br />All around me in the barn, Doppler's men lay sleeping off their own afterglows. I scanned the room in desperation, knowing I had to get free. It was on the second scan that I found an old tiller tine. Painfully I began slithering toward it, whimpering softly as the crotch rope worked its magic against my sex. I got to the tine and began rubbing the ropes against it. The metal was dull, but still sharp enough to loosen the fibers of the rope. The wrist ropes snapped and I quickly broke free of the rest of my ropes. I found my costume and my toolbelt laying on a side table and after unlocking my wrist cuffs, I quickly donned them, beginning to feel some of the old confidence returning. I looked a fright; my knees and nerves were both VERY shaky and the thick crust of all the juices I had shared tonight made me shamed and angry. I had been handed a major defeat tonight, but I intended to turn it to my gain.<br />Working quickly, I handcuffed all of Doppler's men, then wove a length of chain through their arms attaching them to the main post of the barn. The men were groggy, but quickly roused when they saw what had happened. I decided to keep things calm though, and tossed a gas ball into the center of the group, causing the henchmen to fall back to sleep. Just in the nick of time too, for I saw the headlights of Doppler's van pulling into the driveway. The van crept to a stop and the door opened. Doppler stepped from the cab and called out "Pete? Willie?" Silence greeted him. Doppler grumbled that his men must have had too much fun, and strode angrily toward the barn, a bag of Big Belly cheeseburgers in one hand.<br />He stepped into a clearing and I unleashed the phosphorus flare, lighting up the sky. "My God!" he shouted, throwing a hand over his eyes. In that moment I threw my second ball; hitting Doppler square in the chest. My net ball billowed open, wrapping the villain in a tight, sticky web. I saw his feet trying to get traction, but the motor oil I'd spread on the driveway wasn't lending itself to quality traction. Doppler fell over and I landed next to him. "I owe you BIG time mister," I shouted, kicking the bastard in the head. Doppler groaned and dropped. Apparently he had a glass jaw. I called the sheriff's department on my cell phone, then sat to eat the cheeseburgers as I waited.<br />"Now how do I hold a man in jail who can run so fast White Owl?" asked Sheriff Coates, as he came to the farm to collect Doppler and his gang.<br />"Well, he can't run through doors and walls, Sheriff. Just keep him on a minimal diet; the 2000 or so calories the prison serves. He won't be able to pick up too much speed that way. After this, though, he's your issue, not mine." I looked into the squad car.<br />"Belle Reve will be able to handle you, Doppler," I said<br />"You mean the way I handled YOU, Owl?" I shuddered.<br />"You may have taken me down," I said. "But I've taken you out."<br />"Not for long cutie. I'll be back in a jiffy!"<br />The squad cars rolled out of sight and I wondered if Doppler was right. I flew into the dawning skies and wondered if Father Timothy was up for an early morning confessional.<br />The End.<br /></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-35482699984986650352010-12-31T05:37:00.004-05:002010-12-31T05:42:37.025-05:00Fallen Idols<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nNsE6gkjaeyKyv4Z3ntj0zTPJmeudlbdKBzchCsmQDIhY5FInyMYiP2Myelv9teuwS06P1WDR4j79kJcqCFno4tJZaqEE5GO-HObTdWDY19nH05Cm_iThJc7txJ118ZF_FaRCymnaeDR/s1600/Fallen+Idols+6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794397407230210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nNsE6gkjaeyKyv4Z3ntj0zTPJmeudlbdKBzchCsmQDIhY5FInyMYiP2Myelv9teuwS06P1WDR4j79kJcqCFno4tJZaqEE5GO-HObTdWDY19nH05Cm_iThJc7txJ118ZF_FaRCymnaeDR/s400/Fallen+Idols+6.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLhKI1pWdt4xqA42uok5gUlPDL-nhuHtsqb3n5vdm162TRHT9rOVNEfdF1eGSZlFJE7oE80Ca-kUr1Qcm7FKknfKkuMhl7YHJlAQqVXItO9DbmFRQ61UdOW-eer4xpVOOiBz07XRoFzOY/s1600/Fallen+Idols+5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794390831660194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLhKI1pWdt4xqA42uok5gUlPDL-nhuHtsqb3n5vdm162TRHT9rOVNEfdF1eGSZlFJE7oE80Ca-kUr1Qcm7FKknfKkuMhl7YHJlAQqVXItO9DbmFRQ61UdOW-eer4xpVOOiBz07XRoFzOY/s400/Fallen+Idols+5.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwo10Lt1j8ZnHsAZdnWWRZRZ8zrlzRpVh1B7_MS97UmNb7BMcQ6nX8V4uVXuEVjxlHiW_uUOmQEKg0bekiqSvDC9Q5vUqNnleO3UQntjv48FDxIn0rkdiMEy5qDhyQFgCKWk0PIwjLxron/s1600/fallen+idols+4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794383629051698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwo10Lt1j8ZnHsAZdnWWRZRZ8zrlzRpVh1B7_MS97UmNb7BMcQ6nX8V4uVXuEVjxlHiW_uUOmQEKg0bekiqSvDC9Q5vUqNnleO3UQntjv48FDxIn0rkdiMEy5qDhyQFgCKWk0PIwjLxron/s400/fallen+idols+4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLL3sPFgqbo6IGXcySgpPaG_KzFcGjfIz03WGO_4sKYdTLGO8V145JOH2LJVxkfQ-4FIV3NjNK96pQrc2n7a55idwEJyt94-vUPh7EfkZBdbBleAy_w5LA-TNlZUG4tCOgS-K5JH4YKhy-/s1600/fallen+idols+3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794375551548642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLL3sPFgqbo6IGXcySgpPaG_KzFcGjfIz03WGO_4sKYdTLGO8V145JOH2LJVxkfQ-4FIV3NjNK96pQrc2n7a55idwEJyt94-vUPh7EfkZBdbBleAy_w5LA-TNlZUG4tCOgS-K5JH4YKhy-/s400/fallen+idols+3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHANhX-xOONdmB-mg9Ay_b0Wq9g1F0DAlV422bCZXm9XHbMB1JVWycJYPoqR6GgaAphUqeW7WslwwZTlSBmoQXPUprluNyhb9E90iXo0yuY9pjk-m0pixneReG2b23LhV58XQDkpwpF9E/s1600/One+Woman%2527s+War.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794372819982642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHANhX-xOONdmB-mg9Ay_b0Wq9g1F0DAlV422bCZXm9XHbMB1JVWycJYPoqR6GgaAphUqeW7WslwwZTlSBmoQXPUprluNyhb9E90iXo0yuY9pjk-m0pixneReG2b23LhV58XQDkpwpF9E/s400/One+Woman%2527s+War.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6DsEO7a4ilMozDWiya61r3PXSSPMEFUdA7wU9pSngCZrlu6HLLGttKIPfTF0WQnZQNWimREvT9p-uGXnlze_t-x9wJa8Y7XCOLxCRZn3EN67UHlafZ-CWZmnpdldVMzCeyjbywG2CIpR/s1600/fallen+idols+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556794058249280418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6DsEO7a4ilMozDWiya61r3PXSSPMEFUdA7wU9pSngCZrlu6HLLGttKIPfTF0WQnZQNWimREvT9p-uGXnlze_t-x9wJa8Y7XCOLxCRZn3EN67UHlafZ-CWZmnpdldVMzCeyjbywG2CIpR/s400/fallen+idols+1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Fallen Idols...A White Owl adventure.<br />I opened the door to my fifth floor "penthouse" apartment in Queen City, glad for the break from the classes at Angel Falls. A slight musty smell greeted me, but for all I could tell the place had been undisturbed since I'd moved in June.I was tired from the six hour drive, and all I really wanted to do was run a hot bath and get into bed. But as I headed up the stairs to my loft bedroom, the telephone rang. I shook my head, since the phone had been disconnected when I left. So I reached for the handset. "Hello?" I said hesitatingly."Athena! Oh thank God, I was hoping I could get through to you." The young voice of Julie Allen spoke into my ear. But something seemed wrong--her normally effervescent self deems strained--cracking..."Julie? How did you manage to make a dead telephone ring? And what's wrong?""Athena, he's dead! My grandpa is dead!" The shock in her voice jolted the weariness from my bones and I was at full alertness."Oh Julie, I'm so sorry!" I began. "When did...how?" My words failed me."He died Sunday morning in his sleep. Mom came back from the womens shelter and found him in his chair. He looked so peaceful. I think it was just old age finally catching up to him."That made sense. Nathaniel West had fought in World War II, made the landings at D Day and had been in the thick of things at the Battle of the Bulge. But he'd also been one of America's first Mystery Men--Freedom's Ring. His sonic powers had been key to assisting with the liberation of Paris and Brussels His powers had been passed genetically to both his daughter Rebecca and his grand daughter Julie. "He was eighty eight, Athena," she said. "That's old for a veteran, and positively ancient for a superhero." "Hey careful Julie, I'm not sure this is a secure line." I heard a giggle. "Of COURSE its secure. Who bugs a dead phone?"I had to admit, she was probably right about that. "Well that's a neat trick, Julie." "Its the last thing Grandpa taught me--how to send my energy back down the line to reactivate a phone." I heard a stifled sob."Do you need me to come over, Julie?" I asked."No, the family is here. Grandpa's funeral was today and the Legion did full military honors for him. It was beautiful. But I want you to be there on Saturday if you can. At Idlewood Cemetery in Washington.""I thought you said the funeral was today?""It was; for Nathaniel West. But Freedom's Ring died too. And for security reasons, we still have to maintain the double identity. And I knew your identity--the government didn't. So I had the job of notifying you."I nodded, jotting down the address and time. "I'll be there Julie, as your friend.""Thank you Athena, I knew I could count on you." The phone line went dead and I frowned. I'd brought the White Owl uniform, but the more I thought, the more I felt I needed the formal costume again. I picked up the cell phone, and called Mr Wickersham. The understanding tailor said he wasn't going anywhere for the holiday, and told me to stop by his shop on Friday.*****Saturday morning I 'ported to the DC tube and flew to the cemetery. It was an unusual feeling, because a blue Nu Silk cape was fluttering behind me. I also had added a grey silk skirt at the urging of the Crimson Dynamo. Both added a little drag to the flight profile and I felt sluggish as I flew along. But I knew I shouldn't be complaining. Father Timothy would tell me I should be grateful for the gift of flight.Idlewood Cemetery was the final resting place of America's superheroes and mystery men. Captain Thunder, American Ace, Deep Six, Blaze, Hurricane and Quiver were among the luminaries buried here--or at least marked with memorials. Despite the aura of valor here, the cemetery seemed well used and slightly worn down. I landed outside, near a line of vehicles and made my way inside.I was dismayed by the low turnout. Julie and her mother were both there, along with some elderly men who I assumed were the remainder of the Liberty Guard, the loose team Freedom's Ring had been a part of. Along with the old men, I saw a stunning blonde woman. I straightened my skirt, and sat behind Patriette and Liberty Girl, my two friends from Queen City. The memorial was brief; a couple of the Liberty Guard told some slightly off color stories about Freedom's Ring and Webel, a German villainess who made fog. Julie squirmed uncomfortably, as did Patriette. Nacht and Webel had made things difficult in their family for three generations at least.But the funeral ended, and we went to a small brownstone building in Capitol Heights. I ascended the stairs and felt my heart beating faster. This HAD to be the fabled headquarters of the Guard. A door opened, and a spry old man motioned us in. We passed a room filled with costumes, gaudy and reflective of the forties and fifties. The Spotlight's Chest beam sat alone in a cabinet, the glass shattered with bullet holes. Behind that, in a full length case was Blaze's bright yellow asbestos suit. I stood in awe of my predecessors, then followed quietly into a large dining area.Rebecca seemed to be doing well, and I guess Julie was too; but then these men had been visitors in her house for a long time. I excused myself to get more coffee and as I turned from the urn, I ran headlong into the blonde. My coffee sloshed, spilling over my pristine costume and staining it a dark brown."AHHHH" I shouted...then calmed down because the coffee wasn't really scalding and the NuSilk seemed to be keeping most of it away."Oh GOLLY! How clumsy of me," she said. "Let me take care of that for you. She stared at my costume and her face screwed up in concentration. A moment later--the moisture in the NuSilk misted and evaporated into the air."That's amazing!" I began, but she held up a finger.A gentle breath blew across the front of my costume, chilling me to the bone. A moment later, the blonde flicked away the residue of the stain as little freeze dried crystals."Ta Da!!!" she warbled cheerfully. "Sixty years of filthy costumes and villain's lairs have taught me something about being clean. I'm American Dream." She smiled broadly and the world became brighter. I gazed at her. She had a beauty that transcended glamour. Whichever goddess was responsible for drop dead gorgeous looks had lingered overly long on her. She was tall, blonde, well packed in all the right spots and looked better than any woman almost eighty years old should look. Except maybe Tania."And you are...?" she prompted."Staring...I am so sorry," I said. Then regaining some level of composure I said, "I'm White Owl. I knew Freedom's Ring through Patriette and Liberty Girl."She nodded. "I was a frequent visitor at that house for some time. Actually until Major Allen married Rebecca. Then Nate stopped heroing and I...well I wouldn't give it up. Still haven't, in fact."I nodded. "But I haven't seen anything about you in years," I said. "And you won't. I work covert now for the government. That doesn't mean I don't get down time now and then though. And I very seldom get a chance to train with and talk to the new generations. Are you free anytime soon?""Well, I have a break coming for three weeks in December," I said. "I might be able to make some time then.""Oh please do," she gushed. "I would love to talk, and get to know you better." She pushed a card at me."This is my private line. I'll always answer. Just give me a call when you want to visit. Ta ta!!" She turned and shouted across the room, "Dauntless! Where have you been hiding, you old geezer?"I watched her cross the room to an old man in a wheelchair. His eyes gleamed as American Dream began to cross with him and in my minds eye I caught a vision of a powerful man in a bright red costume; broken as he stopped a bus singlehandedly. that stunt had prevented terrorists from overthrowing Monteverde, but it had ruined Dauntless for life. I was surprised as I walked back to Julie and Becca."Thanks for coming White Owl, it really means a lot," said Patriette. "Dad really thought the world of you, I don't know if you knew that."I felt my face warming. "Aww, thanks. I had similar feelings about him. He knew what it meant to be a hero and role model.""Yes, and he wondered about living so long," said Julie."What?" I asked."It's true, Athena, most people in our profession don't die in bed of old age like Gran'pa."I nodded and thought about that--then I looked at Rebecca. "Hey Patriette, what can you tell me about American Dream?" I told her of my chance meeting and the invitation."Only that you're never good enough for her White Owl. She's a perfectionist. And with all the years she's been doing it, she has it down to a science. Still she's a good one to have in your corner. And no one understands the woman in the hero mold better."I'd say, pick your friends carefully; but being an avatar of wisdom, you know how to do that. I imagine she's lonely, and it can't hurt to go talk."I thanked them both, expressing my condolences again, and stepped into the waning daylight. With a wistful look at the brownstone, I flew back to the teleport tube and traveled back to Queen City.<br /><a name="dv7"></a><br /><a name="gmi-ResViewContainer"></a><br /><a name="artist-comments"></a>August 14th 1943...The battle had raged through the night of the little mountain village. Neither of us had gained an advantage since I had broken free of il Martel's death trap, and now the Italian villain was escaping with intelligence which could overthrow Italy's surrender and swing the war back toward the Axis. I had to stop him."The dark night sky flashed with lightning and above me I say the horrific form of il Martel on top of the abbey of San Catarino. His mighty hammer glowed with an eerie blue light in his right hand. In his left, the limp form of Colonel Trevor Stephens, my friend and lover; dangled over the cliff side."I called out to him, 'Martel! You have nowhere to run! Let me have the Colonel and we'll fight another day!' His answer came in the form of his hammer being flung at me. "I deftly dodged and caught the hammer, its momentum pulling me off balance from the steeple. But I recovered and spun, hurling the hammer back at Martel; then using the forward thrust to launch myself behind the hammer at il Martel."'Foolish woman! Don't you know that the Hammer knows its master?' il Martel gloated, catching the weapon easily."' Si!' I answered as my foot caught il Martel on his jutting chin. The lanky Italian recoiled, his eyes fluttering. At that moment he relaxed his grip on Trevor and once again, I was torn between stopping the villain and saving the man I loved."' Not this time, Martel,' I shouted, grabbing Stephens by his leather pilot's jacket. But the weight of Trevor finally pulled me off balance and I grabbed at the ledge of the rooftop. We both dangled above the Abbey, with the river 880 feet below. A dark pair of boots appeared at my eye level and looking up I could see Martel, towering over me."' This is the end of the American Dream,' he gloated, raising his hammer to pound my fingers. But as he raised the hammer, a bolt of lightning struck the hammer. Martel howled in pain, dancing with the convulsions of the powerful stroke of electricity. With a last lusty cry, he toppled over the edge of the building and plummeted to the valley below."I swung Trevor onto the rooftop and pulled myself up as well. Then I carried the limp form over my shoulders and made my way back to the American lines. Trevor held out for three days, dying shortly after regaining consciousness. I was sent back to the US to deal with my grief and wasn't reactivated to the Liberty Guard until after D Day." (Excerpt from One Woman's War, 2005, by American Dream and Guild Publishing)I set the book down and rubbed my eyes. American Dream had been active as a heroine since 1942 and there was a of history to cover. I remembered how excited I was to find a copy of her book in the Literary Treasures store, and had spent the better part of an afternoon reading the exploits of the amazing heroine.In addition to il Martel, American Dream had been active against Nacht and Webel, Der Metzger, Matryoshka, White Chrysanthemum and others, as well as Miniman, the Lynx and several other American villains. Additionally, she'd been an active part of the Liberty Guard and the Guild, though at the time the book was published she had retired, or at least gone private. Perhaps the last lines of the book were the most telling."I realize I have worn many titles in this country, and worn them all with pride. But even immortals must give way for the next generation. I have stood side by side with some of the greatest in the world, watching them die far too early. Additionally I have fought some of the most vile, and wonder why such are still here after all these years. The fight for justice, the fight for life is a never ending battle, and its not merely the job of the costumed fighters, its everyone's battle. So I am stepping down, in order to see to the next generation."Most had assumed that by this American Dream was going to train new heroes and heroines. But after 10 years, no one had stepped forward with her skill set. And American Dream had said she was mainly covert at this time, showing up for state functions, but basically working behind the scenes. Was she involved with the government Bureau of Extranormal Affairs?I took the card she gave me, and dialed her number. "Hello? Is this American Dream?""Hello dear, keeping free form falling coffee?"I smiled. "Yes I have been. I have some free time later this week, leading to the weekend. Are you up for a visit?""I'd love it. Come out Friday night, and you can spend the night. Ta ta!"With that cheerful note she hung up. I wondered about calling Rebecca or Julie, but decided it would be better to fill them in afterward.<br /><a name="gmi-ResourcePageAboutPane"></a><br /><a name="artist-comments1"></a>Friday was a getaway day at Angel Falls University, and my classes ended Thursday afternoon. I spent the evening packing a few things and setting my answering devices. Daisy would be all right, I had an auto food and watering device set up.I was eager to be on my way. American Dream had sent directions to my QCPD cell phone which amazed me--but then I knew Captain Winslow had a soft spot for all sorts of heroines. I was surprised that she had by passed both the Guardian's and the Guild's com systems, but maybe she wanted this to be low key.I made a final tour of the apartment, scratching Daisy one more time as she dozed in the papasan. She looked up and purred louder, then licked her lips and rolled back over. I could tell I wouldn't be missed.I slung my weekend bag over my shoulder and secured it, then flew into the twilight of an Angel Falls autumn. I shivered a little as a chill wind blew in from the sea, and wished I had considered bringing the jacket with me. Winter was just around the corner, but in the warmer climate of Angel Falls, I was trying to eke out as much warmth from my summer garb as possible.I followed the coast highway a long while, crossing into Virginia. I banked inland then and toward the Smokies, crossing empty fields and dark woods. A moon rose, casting a silvery glow over the landscape and making the land look like a fairy tale come to life. I heard a gentle hooting, and looking over my shoulder, I saw a barred owl pursuing its prey. I smiled. Not quite the snowy owl I'd seen in Angel Falls, but a good omen none the less.Checking the directions I'd been given, I looked below me to see a walled compound in the middle of nowhere. A large abbey loomed over a hillside, and I gawped at the size of it. But a smaller house stood in the middle and a golden light gleamed from the front door. I angled my flight that way and landed in the courtyard.With a little trepidation, I knocked on the door. Immediately it flew open and American Dream stood at the door, beaming. "White Owl! Right on time. Come in come in." I stepped into the foyer and smelled a savory smell coming from what I assumed was the kitchen. American Dream smiled and as I surveyed the home I found it to be a cross between Norman Rockwell and Martha Stewart. The magazine couldn't come here; there was no Better Home or Garden, I was convinced."Thank you for inviting me. This looks like an interesting place. " I gushed. I reached into my rollbag and pulled out the bottle of wine I had purchased just for this trip. "A Chateau Picard 1936?" said American Dream, as she studied the label. "Some say that was the last good bottle they produced. I'm one of them." She smiled."I wanted you to have something to remember the good times with," I said.A tear welled in the American Dream's eye as she fought back emotion. "The last time I had this was just before Trevor was kidnapped by il Martel. Just be..before he died."Then just as quickly, she pulled herself together and said, "But that's all water under the bridge, eh? Long ago and far away."She gestured to my bag. "Just set that in the corner. We'll get it to your room after dinner." I followed her down the little hallway and into a small dining room. "This used to be the abbot's dining room," she said. "He would entertain his guests here. The monks had a refectory in the main hall.""But when the monastery's land stopped producing, the monastery was closed. And I bought it from the church--the Bishop actually sold it cheaply because I'd saved his father in the War.""And you live here alone?" I asked, astonished."Well I need a big place to train, for visitors and of course my museum," she smiled. "They're all on the tour tomorrow though. Tonight we just get to be girls." And with that announcement, American Dream took off her mask."I'm Anna Dottir. You may call me Anna. And you?"I hesitated. Though this woman was an American icon, I still maintained a secrecy that was crucial to my work. I thought about the Owl, announcing himself in flight; giving himself away and decided."I'm White Owl--for now anyway, Anna." The slightest beginnings of a frown occurred and then she brightened. "Quite right. You're protecting your identity." We sat to eat an excellent meal of beef stew and fresh whole grain bread. Then over coffee, Anna asked me, "So tell me about yourself. How did you gain your abilities?"Over the next hour or so, I regaled her with my origin detailing how Athena herself had appeared to me and granted me my gifts. From there, we discussed some of my battles, my victories and defeats. She nodded."I too had my share of all those things as well," she said. "I have a question I'm dying to know," I said. When she nodded an ok, I asked, "How have you stayed so gorgeous and so young?Anna smiled. "It's really no secret," she said. "I'm the daughter of a Valkyrie, sent to earth to select the slain heroes for Valhalla.""But I thought the Valkyries were all maidens," I said."They were, except Brunhilde, and my mother Frigga," she said. "Mother was banished to earth, for her transgressions and died when I was five. I was moved from one family to another, until I reached adulthood. And I became American Dream--I was strong, agile, and swift."We stayed up a while longer, but I was nodding. American Dream smiled and said, "For a nocturnal creature, you seem sleepy. Perhaps we should turn in." I followed her to the guest room where a large canopied bed sat on the floor. Anna turned down the quilt and said, "goodnight."Within ten minutes I was in bed--still masked though. I slept badly, my dreams haunted. I thought I heard a scream as a woman aged and crumbled to dust before my eyes.Morning broke and I stretched, rested. I heard a knock on the door and was about to call, "come in," when Anna popped her head in. That frown began again, then stopped."Hey sleepyhead," she smiled. "I'm going for a run. Want to join me?I slid into my boots and met her at the door. "I usually run the perimeter of the abbey twice before breakfast," she smiled. "Why don't we race. As long as you promise not to fly, I promise not to hold back, deal? Oh and loser does dishes."I nodded. "On your mark, get set..." I saw a white and blue blur zip past me and heard the sound of "gooo" receding from me. I smiled and turned up the heat. I wasn't flying, but I was using the speed that came with it and soon I caught up and passed American Dream. Stubbornly, she turned her power up a notch and came closer. We passed the starting line again and I pulled whatever kick I had left; slowly but steadily beginning to outdistance the golden age great. As we crossed the line a moment later, I had her beat by at least 3 seconds."Are you sure you didn't cheat," she gasped. "Only Whirlwind was fast enough to beat me before." "Scout's honor," I said."All right, then I'll have to do KP." I helped with the drying though, noticing the whole time that Anna was studying my hands, and my face. After breakfast, she took me to the Chapter house of her abbey, and opened up the museum.One whole wing was devoted to Trevor Stevens, and I saw she still carried a torch for him after all these years. The next section showed images and memorabilia of American Dream through the years. Posters, helmets, and even dolls were on display.Finally, we entered the allies wing. Here were images of the Liberty Guard, and its successors, including the Guild. Also a line of black frames identified heroes and heroines who had died in action. I noticed several greats from the past, but was shocked to see images of more recent heroes too--the Golden Archer, Skybolt, Scarlet Angel, Blue Panther and Wondervixen.I stood somberly at the pictures, reminding myself of all these greats had stood for. "It makes you think, doesn't it?" said Anna, putting her hand on my shoulder. I shuddered--something felt wrong.Mercifully, the cell phone chirped. It was Captain Winslow. "White Owl? You on your way back to QC? We got a problem.""I understand, Captain. I can be there in two hours," "Oh honey, I can get you there sooner. The Guild left me a portal.""Why didn't you say so?" I asked. "I could have ported from Angel Falls.""It slipped my mind until now." I looked at Anna. She seemed older now--almost forgetful. But she led me to the portal and I set the controls personally, then 'ported to Queen City and Captain Winslow's problem.<br /><a name="gmi-ResourcePageAboutPane1"></a><br /><a name="artist-comments2"></a>"It just seemed a little odd is all I'm saying Patriette," I said as we met on the rooftop of the Central Trust tower. Patriette stood with her arms crossed, her dark curly hair floating in the cold breeze from the river. She glowed slightly, converting the ambient sound into heat energy."I'm not surprised White Owl," she said. "I feel the same way, since I LOOK older than she does, and yet I'm much younger. But I always did wonder about her. My "aunt" Anna never aged while all my "uncles" did--roughly the same amount as Dad did. Dad always claimed it was her demi human status that conferred such longevity, but I'm not sure. I always thought in her attic somewhere is a portrait that's aging VERY badly." I grinned at her joke, as Patriette broke her own smile. Patriette continued, "I had occasion to work with her twice, before Julie was born and I was still working with the military. Even then she seemed aloof, and professional--not very warm and fuzzy."I shivered into my warm coat, realizing December was definitely bringing a cold snap with it. "Well with her background I wouldn't expect warm and fuzzy. Lonely yes. But I think she was on the verge of becoming seriously ungrounded. Maybe even crazy cat lady.""That's odd," said Patriette. "Her mind is usually sharp as a razor. How did she look?""She seemed fit, and looked good," I said. But she seemed like she was showing her age in the morning.""Oh like you don't," joked Patriette.I nodded. "Well anyway, it was good to catch up Patriette. Tell Liberty Girl I said hi.""Are you in town much longer?" she asked. "I know Julie would love to see you.""I'm leaving in the morning. I had to sign some documents relating to my parents' estate, and make certain the first floor apartment was ready for a new tenant. So I'm going home to bed, then back to Angel Falls in the morning.""Maybe next trip in then," she said. Her glow altered slightly and suddenly her energy converted to sound waves, which she could ride back out to Kosterman Hill. I watched her head west, then took off and flew down through the city's Entertainment District. The shows were dark tonight, so I wasn't expecting any problem, but as I crossed Eighth and Sycamore, I heard a shriek coming from an off street parking lot. I wheeled and in the dim light, I saw a woman, dressed like she was coming from a nightclub being attacked by two men."C'mon bitch, we just want to play," said one of the men, grabbing at the woman. She pushed and the other one caught her arm."Aww come on, that's not nice," he said.I swooped in and grabbed the first one by his collar jerking him off balance. I grabbed his leg and with him held off the ground, I threw him into an open dumpster at the back of the alley. He hit with a whoof and a thud, then the lid of the dumpster clannnnnged shut on his back.The second guy wasn't as lucky. He was trying to flee when his friend went sailing, but the sight stunned him. He stood stock still as I clocked him with a restrained left hook. He dropped to the ground, completely unconscious."Must've had a glass jaw," I said, smiling. I picked up the black purse from the ground, and handed it to the woman. She seemed familiar, with a head of long straight dark hair and a pretty face."Oh thank you," she said. "How can I repay you?""There's no need for that," I said politely. "Just doing my job.""Oh wait! I have something here!" She reached into her handbag and pulled out an aerosol can. She stepped up and sprayed it into my face. A swirling gas of blue and gray hit me in the eyes and I began coughing."Breathe deeply little fool," she said.The walls of the parking lot began to sway and I could feel my knees buckling. The gas was powerful and anesthetic. I struggled to keep to my feet, but felt gravity pulling my knees toward the asphalt. I dropped to my hands, then fell prone at the feet of the former victim.Even as my muscles refused to obey me, I struggled to maintain awareness. And when she knelt beside me, I managed to get out one word..."W...why?"The woman pawed at my toolbelt, pulling the pouches free and pulling my supply of weapons from me. "This will look so nice in my collection," she said. She went through the pouches and pulled my HD cuffs, the ones I use for heavily powered villains.She flopped my onto my chest like I was a rag doll and with practiced expertise secured the handcuffs around my wrists. A moment later, she slipped some sort of breathing filter over my mouth and nose, and I felt a heavily scented air entering my lungs. "You're too powerful, White Owl; and I know you can shake off poisons. But this drug should keep you pacified until we arrive at your Final Destination." My blood chilled at that last comment and I recognized the capital letters in the last two words. The woman stood and motioned and her two pain stricken goons joined her."You've done well, men. Help me load her into the car." I was carried through the parking lot to a lone Lincoln, and dropped unceremoniously into a dark, cavernous trunk. As I was placed inside, the dime dropped. American Dream was kidnapping me? Recognition must have shown on my face, for I heard her say, "Yes, its me!"Behind her, the two men coughed. She wheeled and said, "Oh you've done very well tonight. You've earned your pay and a little extra." She reached into her purse and drew out a stack of $100 bills, handing 10 to each man."What about the extra?" asked one.A sinister smile broke across her face and I watched in helpless horror as she broke the necks of the two men, then left their bodies under the dim street lamp. The trunk lid closed and I struggled in my bonds as we shot out of town.<br /><a name="gmi-ResourcePageAboutPane2"></a><br /><a name="artist-comments3"></a>I rode in a dim, drug induced stupor as the car clocked mile upon mile. I was aware of time's passing--but hours and minutes made no sense in the dark carpeted lining of the large car's trunk. My healing factor was working over both the chloroform and whatever drug was in the mask, along with a mix of carbon monoxide in the trunk. But when the car lurched to a stop, I was still woozy. The trunk opened and I blinked back the tears as a dazzling white light filled the confines of my temporary prison. A shadow loomed, and I saw American Dream reaching into the trunk. "Come here, Owly" she purred, with menace in her voice.I was set on wobbly legs against the trunk, then American Dream bent me over her shoulder and carried me as easily as a sack of potatoes deep into the brightly lit chamber. I tried to glance at the articles on the walls, but could make little to no sense of the technical miscellanea surrounding me.Dream dropped me on the floor of a metal platform, then slipped the mask from my face. I gulped greedily as the fresh air. "Feeling a little better?" she asked, with a sound of concern in her voice. I nodded."Good," she said. With a strong left fist, American Dream punched me in my solar plexus and I gasped, struggling to breathe as my muscles contracted in pain. She followed with a right cross to my jaw and I dropped to the floor, hitting with my head, out cold."Bitch" muttered American Dream, kicking me in the ribs. She knelt down and rifled my toolbelt again, setting all the items in the pouches and tubes to one side. Satisfied, she untied me, then sat me back on the platform. A twist of a lever brought a large bell jar tight over the top of me and it sealed with a hiss.I struggled to me knees, then my feet, using the thick glass to stand. American Dream looked up from her winded stated and smiled back at me. Then she pointed at the control panel. "This apparatus was developed by Dr Friedrich Werner, as a means to prolong the life of an ailing Fuhrer. A young volunteer would be placed in that bell tube, and his life would be drained. His liquid life essence; the remainder of his unused life force would distill here...(she opened a panel) and the Fuhrer would drink it, extending his life."On a top secret mission in 1942, I was kidnapped by Greta von Gutenheim and brought to Dr Werner's lab...Where I was to be the next victim of his life distiller. But before he could place me inside, I broke free. Countess von Gutenheim fell into the device instead and was distilled from a vivacious woman of 27 to a shriveled corpse. The glowing liquid beckoned to me, and I drank it, growing stronger, more devious than I had ever been. With the Countess' mental energies supplementing my strength, I managed to sneak the device back to America."I have since then been consuming the life energies of heroes, heroines and villains over the last sixty years. And look at me! I'm beautiful, am I not?""You're a MONSTER," I replied. Then I looked closer. "And its starting to tell! Your hair is graying, there are definite age wrinkles showing. And you were winded after dragging me here!"American Dream waved her hand. "All mere details, I assure you. You have one of the most powerful life forces I have tested in some time, White Owl. And you became my dear friend in such a short time. I shall have to attend your funeral, alas, and say nice things, I'm sure." "Funeral? What are you talking about?""It will be a tragic death. You'll be burned beyond recognition--only your costume and mask will be used to identify you. You'll have died in a heroic manner, saving lives, though."A cold shiver struggled down my spine. I pounded on the glass."It's quite unbreakable, I assure you. Even il Martel couldn't break it.""il Martel? You killed him here?" I asked in astonishment."And Trevor, and Matryoshka, der Metzger, and the rest. Not to mention quite a few neophyte heroes and heroines here in the US. They were all ready to establish themselves as my friends..instead, they became my life."As she talked, American Dream poked a few buttons, and I felt a giant fan at my feet begin to hum. "This will begin to draw the oxygen out of that tank White Owl. I estimate 10 minutes before you die in the vacuum. I am sorry you have to die, but you'll live on through me."She crossed the floor and closed the door. I could feel the air getting thinner in the glass tube and I began to methodically look for some way to break free. All the items in my toolbelt were gone; I could see them on the table beside the console. I dropped to one knee--the air was thicker here, closer to the floor and began looking for other options.The words of Liberty Girl echoed in my ear, "People like us don't have a long lifespan Athena, There aren't too many heroes who live to collect their pension." At the rate the air was seeping out, I had a feeling I wouldn't be around to collect mine.<br /><a name="artist-comments4"></a>The air in the vacuum chamber was growing thinner, and I knelt awkwardly trying to breathe in the ever declining environment. I could feel the whoosh of air around me and when I put my hand on the floor, I puled it back with a strong pull, the suction was that powerful.American Dream had not put a lot of work into upgrading her death trap; she was from the "if it works don't tinker with it" school of thought and for that I was grateful. For as I pulled my hand from the floor, a thought occurred to me. I made a quick study of the louvers at the bottom of my cell. While they were too small for me to escape, I was certain the duct led to a powerful fan, which drew the air out of my chamber. I poked a finger into the holes. but the gaps were too small for me to get very far with a probe."Probably for the best" I thought, "I wouldn't want to lose a finger." I smiled at the morbidity of entering into eternity whole, rather than living a life with a disfigured hand. But a second thought occurred and I acted quickly. I sat on the floor of the cell, gasping for breath in the rarefied air and began peeling my long glove from my left hand. "Forgive me grandmother," I pleaded; then I fed the elbow length garment through the duct. I felt the suction grab hold and pull the glove from my hand, then heard the fan whine as the silky glove caught in the turbine. I breathed a bit easier, but the fan continued to drive the air from my death chamber, albeit a bit more slowly. "I need something more," I muttered to myself. I twisted the buckle on my now empty toolbelt until it popped free. Then with an urgent yet delicate touch, I force fed it to the hungry fan. I heard the belt buckle crash into the whirling steel blades and then watched the lights flicker in American Dream's lab. A puff of smoke broke from the console at my feet and I slumped back against the bell jar, relieved that I had earned a reprieve.But the dying fan had also alerted American Dream that something was wrong, and the blonde bombshell charged like an angry rhinoceros into the now dark chamber."What have you done you little fool!" she shrieked like a banshee. A beam of bright light shone across the room , reflecting off the thick glass of the cell. American Dream crossed to the device and kicked it. It sighed, then all the lights on the panel went dark."You've broken it, White Owl," she said. "And I have no way of fixing it--Dr Werner's notes were destroyed in a fire in 1960 by a minor heroine named Sparkgirl. She didn't live long beyond that, I made certain. And now I can't let you live; you know my secrets. So I'll have to kill you myself." American Dream launched herself at the chamber, toppling the entire structure. The large glass jar cracked at the base and I felt the vacuum lift. I struggled to get to my feet and saw American Dream coming back at me, a large, sinister looking hammer in her hand."I killed il Martel, I killed General Winter, I killed Matryoshka, I can certainly kill a little pretender like you!" Dream's eyes were red with rage as charged, swinging il Martel's hammer. I barely had time to avoid the swing as the hammer finally shattered the glass. I dove free, feeling the shards of glass cutting into my bare hand and tearing my tights. I rolled and came up across the room, away from my tools.American Dream lunged at me again, and I ducked under her outstretched arms, kicking out with a sweep that knocked her off balance. Seizing the advantage, I reversed course and ran toward the table where my weapons lay."Oh no you don't, honey," I heard and a scant second later, I was propelled forward and into the thick stone wall with Martel's hammer deep in in my spine. I heard the crunch of bone as the hammer shattered a rib and another as I landed awkwardly on my left ankle, twisting it. I scrambled as best I could to get to my feet, but American Dream was following the hammer with a diving tackle of her own. I leaped into the air, intending to flyover the insane heroine and thought I was free until I felt a strong hand on my sore ankle. "AAAAHHHH!!!" I screamed in pain as American Dream's iron grip broke the ankle. I fell face down on the floor, my hands inches away from the table. It may as well have been miles."Not so fast, Owly," I heard. though American Dream's voice seemed older, harsher. Was she breathing hard? I turned to look and could definitely see age taking a toll on the once vibrant woman. "I have some youth serum left, my dear," she croaked. "Enough to allow me to attempt to fix my device, and to live on for several years. You would have been mere storage. But I tire of this game now, White Owl. It's time to end it.""I couldn't agree more," I said, slamming American Dream's wrist with my right foot. I felt the bones break beneath my boot heel and regretted the rage I'd unleashed. American Dream broke her grip on my leg and I slithered back on the smooth stone floor and reached for a bop ball. My hand closed on one just as American Dream lunged once more. In desperation I threw it, noticing the yellow color too late."NO!" I shouted. "Look Out!" The ball shattered against American Dream's chest and exploded, a white hot blaze shooting up the older heroine's chest. My Phosphorus Flare burns hot and bright, and was never meant to be used against a human. America Dream screamed in terror and began racing around the room. I stood to try and help her, but immediately dropped to the floor, my ankle still throbbing with pain. Dream screamed once more then fell to the ground, her arms beating uselessly against the remnants of her costume. I don't know how long it was, but I finally managed to get to my cell phone and make a call to Patriette in Queen City. "I...I didn't know who else to call," I told her."Sit tight White Owl. American Dream worked for the Bureau of Meta Human affairs. They'll want to work it I'm sure." An hour later several cars rolled into the compound and began the investigation. I found myself in Anna Dottir's kitchen as Special Agent Max Folder led me through my third interview."OK White Owl, I think we understand that you are claiming this was a death by misfortune, but you haven't said a word of why you were even here, or what your relationship with American Dream had been."I was a fan who had come for a visit Agent Folder," I replied evenly. "But what about your toolbelt, your weapons and so forth? Why weren't you wearing them?""As I explained, American Dream was giving me a tour of her trophy room. She'd made me turn out my weapons belt as a security precaution before we started. She left for a moment to take care of some personal business and I got locked into Dr Werner's device. The device started and I had to use my belt to break free. Dream then broke the device to get me out, and carried me out through the fire. But she went back in to try and save some of the trophies. I guess the fire got her."Folder frowned, but nodded. "OK then that's the official story. Don't tell it any differently Friday when you speak at her funeral. Your original version is now Classified, and if it gets out, you'll be charged under the State Secrets Acts of 1970, 1992 and 2004, fair enough?"I nodded. Folder nodded to his assistant Agent Shayna Dulles and she helped me out to the Ambulance. The end.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-65187342348390701572010-11-22T21:45:00.003-05:002010-11-22T23:14:45.400-05:00Another Fine Mess Part 6<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiIw3AsOxKlVuIrfRjLOPF_eCer28dZEP15oSTES1xNq0lW6LysGakeBuzljLAO0uxd1C-h2o3FQkMiR-A2B8Tz7JTdMtgPjEH4j4SrMVKdwpgv5PUYWXbn89yEtQc0AliAsyJLRbJWgl/s1600/another+fine+mess+6.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542571101543131314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiIw3AsOxKlVuIrfRjLOPF_eCer28dZEP15oSTES1xNq0lW6LysGakeBuzljLAO0uxd1C-h2o3FQkMiR-A2B8Tz7JTdMtgPjEH4j4SrMVKdwpgv5PUYWXbn89yEtQc0AliAsyJLRbJWgl/s400/another+fine+mess+6.jpg" /></a> A big apology is in order for the long delay in getting back here... no explanations really--just got sidetracked with other work and projects.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">The plane touched down with a gentle bump and Lauren looked for an escape route. But the bedroom she was locked in, despite it's luxurious touches, was still nothing more than a prison. Throught the tiny window of the plane, Lauren saw the silver case containing her nemesis being offloaded and carefully shunted into a large six wheeled truck.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Well, if I can't break out here," she thought, "I will have to try another time. I just need to stay alive." So resolved, she waited, and then stood demurely as the cabin door turned and opened. As she expected, three large men with AK47s stood at the door. Behind them, Hao Chin smiled and dangled a set of thick metal handcuffs.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Putting her hands up at shoulder height, Lauren staggered forward, the stilletto heels of the maid's outfit pitching her forward, and almost onto her nose. "Bloody Hell," she stammered. "How can anyone WALK in these things?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Boris expects YOU to do that O'Rourke," said Hao Chin. He caught the comely crimelady and spun her around. Lauren almost pitched forward again, but Hao Chin caught her wrist, and slipped a handcuff around it, cinching it too tight.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Oww!!!" protested Lauren. Hao Chin ignored her, however; and popped the other bracelet around her opposite hand. He pulled Lauren's struggling body against hsi own corpulent form and squeezed her plump breast with one hand.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"You've lost, O'Rourke. And this makes us even for Seville, Copenhagen and Queen City. Enjoy your servitude bitch. I'm sure Boris will see it drag on as much as possible." Hao Chin snoothed down the front of Lauren's red dress, his hand lingering just at the crotch for a moment as he felt the sexy woman one last time. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Lauren shot a hard, cold look at Hao Chin. "You'll regret this Chin. I'll get meself free, an there's not a country, not an island, not a piece of ground anywhere on this earth where you can hide. You're a dead man."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Chin laughed, but it was weak and without mirth. A look of uncertainty hinted at his features until he mastered it. Then he pushed Lauren into the guards. "Take her to the truck," he said in flawless, though accented Russian. "And keep 2 guns on her at all times."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Lauren smouldered, but held her tongue, at least until the van started. The silver case containing White Owl unnerved her, but she was made of stronger stuff and studied the men with the guns. They could have been carbon copies of one another or rather granite for all the dialog they offered. So Lauren tried her own. "GRU?" she asked the one who appeared to be the leader. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Nyet," he replied. "Spetsnaz"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Crap" thought Lauren. Special Forces were always hard to deal with; their loyalty was fierce and they were brilliant and chancy fighters. Like Lauren, they seldom knew when to lie down and quit. But if Boris has hired them, he'd passed some serious money to the Powers that Be. That meant he was reorganizing--possibly stretched really thin. This would be knowledge Lauren could use.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">After a long period, the truck stopped and the cuns once again prodded Lauren to alight on a cobblestone courtyard of a large dacha overlooking Lake Baikal. The bright sun was high, and Lauren blinked then stumbled forward into a palatial estate. She watched again as the sarcophagus containing White Owl was carried into an office just inside the foyer. Already Lauren had spotted 5 security cameras and three laser points at the windows and door. Additionally she had plotted at least 2 escape plans and was calculating the odds of each when the door to the office opened and Lauren was motioned (at gunpoint) into the office.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">The office rivalled Lauren's though the decor was more tasteful and subdued. A large photograph of Red Square, illuminated by fireworks hung in the corner, and White Owl's case leaned against it. Across the room at a mahogany desk, though sat Boris.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Velcome Lauren," he said, with a broad smile across his arachnid like features. "I am much appreciatink your gift of Vhite Owvel and of your own serwices to my humble cause."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Lauren strode daintily across the room and lay herself across the table in what she hoped was a seductive pose. "It was my pleasure, Boris honey. But you didn't have to bring me clear across the world for your little joke."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Oh but I did! You see, you are nefer leavink! You haf heard old Russian prowerb, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer?' Vhat closer place than to haf you actually under my vatch, hey?" </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">He chortled and said, "Come, ve have wodka to celebrate, yes? I haf maid fetch it for us." He picked up a brass bell and shook it, giving a melodic tinkle. Nothing happened. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Hmm, I vonder vhat happened?" he growled. He shook the bell again. No answer.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Ahhh I am beginnink to understand. The maid job vas chust filled." He pulled a nasty looking pistol from a drawer in his desk. "By YOU O'Rourke. You'll find the wodka in the cabinet, so get to it."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Scowling daggers, Lauren held her ground. "No."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">to be continued<br /></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-75612262146133465802010-08-11T20:41:00.003-04:002010-08-11T22:48:43.347-04:00Another Fine Mess Part 5Lauren struggled to come to consciousness. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt like a thousand gerbils had marched across it in their sweat socks.Moreover, she was disoriented, and felt out of control. None of these were feelings that Lauren O'Rourke LIKED feeling. Of course there was that time in Belgrade, but THAT had been consentual.<br /><br />As she struggled with her orientation, Lauren realized she had been undressed and left in nothing but her bra and panties. Her clothes, always so immaculate were no where to be seen and her proper fedora was perched across the room on a wig stand.<br /><br />"All right, I'm movin'" thought Lauren. "An' movin' fast. A jet?" A glance out the small porthole proved Lauren's assumtions correct. She sat up, and put her feet on the thick carpet, then surveyed the cabin. <br /><br />Her eyes lit on a steel sarcophagus, where White Owl continued her vacant stare. "This is all YOUR fault, Red Robin," she muttered. Swaying to her feet, Lauren tried to cross the room, only to be stopped by the heavy chains around her ankles.<br /><br />"Someone wants to play kinky games," she said. Her head was pounding though, and the tough crime boss sat on the bed wishing for a cigar, Scotch and a bottle of aspirin. But when the cabin door opened, Lauren's headache stopped and she snarled in fury.<br /><br />"YOU! How DARE you kidnap me! There's not a country on earth you'll be safe in Hao Chin, once I get free. And I will. There's no one who can keep Lauren O' Rourke. Well maybe only one person who MIGHT be able to keep me and he's ..."<br /><br />"He is Boris Andreyavich Neyk. The head of the mafia in all of Russia."<br /><br />"Boris the Bloody Spider? He was cooling his heels in a maximum security prison in Siberia last I heard. How did he get free? What did I ever do to him?" Lauren asked indignantly.<br /><br />Hao Chin settled into a comfortable chair, just out of Lauren's reach. "He said you would ask that. He told me one word. 'Odessa'."<br /><br />Despite the serious situation, Lauren smiled. "My girls saved his from the Honey Trap he was running there, an' left HIM to fill the bill. He looked rather fetching in that tight little French Maid outfit. The Beyalarus government ripped him a new one then too. But his money taled and he was escorted back to the border--first class. But that was at least two years ago. The man has no sense of humor."<br /><br />"I disagree," said Hao Chin. "Mr. Neyk has quite the sense of humor. It is why he requested you be wearing this when you are brought before him." He proffered a box toward Lauren. The mob queen opened it, then frowned. <br /><br />"Never in a million years. There's no way in Bloody Hell I'll ever wear this."<br /><div> </div>Chin shrugged. "It's either this or nothing," he said.<br /><br />"I'll take me chances with nothing then," said Lauren, defiantly. "It's not like he's not seen me in the buff before."<br /><br />"We shall see." Chin stood, and opened the door to Lauren's cabin. "This flight is almost over. We will be landing in Mr Neyk's private retreat in an hour. I would suggest....compliance with his wishes. Mr Neyk can become most disagreeable. But I believe you are already aware of that fact?"<br /><br />As the door closed, Lauren's eyes remained fixed where Chin's retreating body had been. "More than you'll ever know."<br /><br />She shuddered in the cold and sat back on the bed. As she glanced out the window, she could see the deep forests of central Russia and tried to remember where Neyk might have his lairs. Lake Baikal came to mind and Lauren frowned. "middle of Bloody Nowhere!" she muttered. "An' even if I DO get away the only way out is through the damn Gobi or through Mongolia! She looked at the sarcophagus once more and wished she'd paid better attention to Suzy Q's lecture on the devices.<br /><br />"Just my luck, the one time I actually DO succeed in getting rid of the Big Bad Birdie, its the one time I could use a friend--or a heroine." Lauren felt a cold wind on the back of her neck and shuddered. <br /><br />"Just like Hao Chin to turn up the cold," she said. "But if he thinks I'm going to wear THAT..." She shuddered again.<br /><br />"Lauren, ye can't be daft if you want to survive this, an' bring down the big bad Spider. You'll need your cunnin' and all the tools you can use." With a sigh, she opened the box again, and slid into the bright red satin dress and apron.<br /><br />(to be continued)Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-84244151689554869282010-06-14T13:05:00.003-04:002010-07-12T18:00:11.417-04:00Another Fine Mess part 4<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_tVWRVAWy5JGMgjIyRTicnfterneH5aFXFtF2Fq9sKq4NuwZ_uA3q2vr_3ggzjdgYN5yFDf61zCTf9dRGGXhO_rC8FmG8u4-wlnUqC0XA2gh1y2J63pTjzb5gjT9ksZKnPCkTXQKWKtz/s1600/Another+Fine+Mess.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493127794090503090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_tVWRVAWy5JGMgjIyRTicnfterneH5aFXFtF2Fq9sKq4NuwZ_uA3q2vr_3ggzjdgYN5yFDf61zCTf9dRGGXhO_rC8FmG8u4-wlnUqC0XA2gh1y2J63pTjzb5gjT9ksZKnPCkTXQKWKtz/s400/Another+Fine+Mess.jpg" /></a><br /><div>The gleaming blade hovered inches above White Owl's vacant face. Felicia's eyes flashed with eagerness as the scalpel traced the air above the slumbering heroine's head. "You should have been mine," she hissed. "It's not fair that we went to all that trouble and got nothing. Lauren is too money hungry to pay attention to all my needs..."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>The scalpel drooped, touching the heroine's tanned skin just on the left of her slowly rising and falling breasts. "It wouldn't take much," mused Felicia, aloud; "just a quick little jab here, and you'd bleed out so fast, no one could save you. I wonder if..."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"All right lass, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">that'll</span> be enough of that." The dim lighting in the lab suddenly flashed brighter and Felicia threw her arm over her eyes. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> crossed the room with catlike grace and deftly plucked the scalpel from Felicia's hand. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"She is disarmed Lauren," reported <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>. "What is your wish regarding her?"</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Eh, let 'er go," said Lauren. "I might have done the same thing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">meself</span>." </div><br /><br /><div>Lauren turned to Felicia, and scolded. "I'm gonna cut your pay on this caper though. If you can't follow orders, ya gotta be disciplined." Felicia's pout nearly melted Lauren's icy heart, and the Queen of Crime had to steel herself against the angelic face.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Now scoot," said Lauren, dismissing Felicia from guard duty. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> sighed. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"What?" said Lauren.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Nothing," said <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>, averting her eyes. Lauren balled her fists, then unclenched them. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Look, love," she <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">said</span> to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>. "When you're running this gang, after I've retired to Singapore, THEN you can do things by whatever book you want. But until then, this is my show, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span>?"</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> nodded and the faintest hint of a smile crossed her face. The two women then turned back to the unconscious heroine.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>White Owl was still bound in the pink ribbon, her arms and legs tight. The gleaming band on her head pulsed slightly, indicating the brain drain was still working as well. "So what's next?" asked Lauren, her voice slightly above a whisper.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"There is no need to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">lowah</span> yo' voice <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">sugah</span>," said Suzy Q, emerging from a lab door at the other end of the room. "She's so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">fah</span> gone, even a GPS wouldn't help her none." The honey <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">blond</span> crossed to Lauren and frowned. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Ah <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">jes</span> heard about <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">F'licia</span>. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ah'm</span> sorry I wasn't there."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"No matter--what's done is done," replied <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"As <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">fo</span>' what's next," continued Suzy Q, ignoring <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>; "well, then. First, we have a glass case filled with inert gasses. White Turkey here will be loaded into the case, an' fitted with an oxygen and narcotic mask. She'll have enough air to breathe, but won't be able to form a conscious thought. Once that' s sealed, she'll be packed in a normal crate for Lauren to deliver."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"An' don't forget the lovely money," said Lauren. She stepped to the inert form of White Owl and smiled. "I'll be rid of you once an' for all, Stormy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Petral</span>!"</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> piped up. "Are you sure you want to trust <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin? You were pretty evasive when you first met him, and this time--well something doesn't feel right."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Lauren tossed her head back and laughed. "He had courage, I'll grant him that. Didn't flinch once when you offered to kill him. No, he's earned this. An' it's not like I'll be alone out there. You ladies will be set up just atop the hill, out of sight. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">Anythin</span>' goes wrong, you're to swoop in like the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">Avengin</span>' Furies themselves! We'll dispose of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin an' Ruddy Duck at the same time if he tries to cross us."</div><br /><br /><div>****</div><br /><br /><div>A cuckoo clock struck 9 pm as Lauren latched the back of her delivery van. Inside was the carefully packaged container full of White Owl. Lauren adjusted her jaunty fedora blew a kiss at the back of the van and gunned it out of the warehouse. Thirty minutes of driving left Queen City well behind her and Lauren followed along the river road toward the rendezvous point.</div><div> </div><div>She turned onto the private road, and along the two ruts leading to the small valley where <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin would be waiting. But as Lauren entered the clearing, she could only see the bend in the river--no car or truck waiting for her.</div><div> </div><div>"What in bloody hell?" she asked, killing the engine and shutting off the lights. She wasn't eager to break radio silence with her assistants, and so she fretted. But across the river, she saw a bright spotlight aimed at the clearing.</div><div> </div><div>"Of course, it's brilliant," muttered Lauren. "Of course he had a boat." Lauren stepped out of the van and watched as the boat drew closer. So intent was she on watching the boat, she failed to hear the helicopter until it was flying overhead. When the beating of the rotor alerted her, Lauren looked up as a dark helicopter sprayed a thick, cloying gas over the clearing and up over the hill. </div><div> </div><div>Choking and tearing up, Lauren clutched at the handle of the van, but drooped sleepily and collapsed on the ground. Six pairs of boots clumped up behind Lauren and men in gas masks sprayed the unconscious felon with another dose of sleeping gas. Laughing in their masks, the six men grabbed Lauren and tossed the dozing gangster over one shoulder. Four others gathered the case from the back of the van , then carried it to the waiting boat. The last man placed charges under the van then scurried back to the boat. </div><div> </div><div>The cabin cruiser drifted into the river, then headed downstream as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin pushed a button on a remote control. Three hundred yards away, the Shamrock Delivery van exploded in a bright fireball.</div><div> </div><div>(to be continued)</div><br /><br /><div></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-7604726877989614102010-05-19T21:03:00.002-04:002010-05-19T21:09:24.518-04:00Another Fine Mess Chapter Three<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTgk1pc7q5JpqnB1I4MvhMMq2P0oi78lKECiK9XjDYxtDIjhZNlN_UFD6LVWHmHXQVXQuFQ9MJgobwdt3SSRsEAILz6vTaXVmKPcaxJLSQC0Itw5WQML1MwDkz7WV8W0Gfw2iyc6MVyq9/s1600/another+fine+mess+3a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 338px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473152089483364562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTgk1pc7q5JpqnB1I4MvhMMq2P0oi78lKECiK9XjDYxtDIjhZNlN_UFD6LVWHmHXQVXQuFQ9MJgobwdt3SSRsEAILz6vTaXVmKPcaxJLSQC0Itw5WQML1MwDkz7WV8W0Gfw2iyc6MVyq9/s400/another+fine+mess+3a.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br />Lauren paced furiously outside the lab, her hands gesticulating wildly as she expressed her anger and rage at anyone close enough. Behind her Yukiko sighed. She'd been around Lauren long enough to experience all the crime boss' moods and she knew the only way to get past the excitement and frustration of waiting was to get Lauren occupied in something else.<br /></div><div>"Should we practice your Aikido Lauren?" she asked politely.<br /></div><div>"I don't want to practice any bloody Aikido," Lauren said tersely. "I want to know what the hell is takin' them so long. I have an Owl to capture and a deadline to meet."<br /></div><div>"We are well ahead of deadline, as you well know," Yukiko said. Her cell phone beeped and Yukiko apologized. "One moment."<br /></div><div>Yukiko pulled her long dark hair away from her ear, the soft leather of her catsuit crinkling seductively, and put the cell phone to her ear. "Yes?" she said softly.<br /></div><div>Lauren strained, but was unable to hear what was said. But the accent was unmistakeably New Jersey. So when Yukiko put the phone down, Lauren demanded, "What did Bethany want?" </div><div><br />Yukiko smiled enigmatically. "We are invited to the rooftop for a special demonstration." </div><div><br />Thirty minutes later, Lauren was laughing her head off, and slapping Suzy Q and Felicia on the back. "I don't know how ye did it, but it's bloody BRILLIANT! Consider your pay increased! The Old Pink Pigeon won't know what happened and we'll have her nailed but good!"<br /></div><div>Suzy Q smiled. "That's right sugah. Ah think Felicia did a fantastic job with her li'l ol' bio scan."<br /></div><div>"Well, it was your wedding my technology with yours that turned the trick, Suzy," said Felicia.<br /></div><div>"Ladies please, we'll continue this mutual admiration society later," said Lauren. "Right now, we need to get this stuff in place." </div><div><br />"It is in place, boss," said Bethany. "We're gonna jump the Purple Peacock here." </div><div><br />"Well it would more properly be a pea hen," said Felicia. "But Bethany has the location correct."</div><div><br />"What's a pea hen?" asked Bethany.<br /></div><div>"Well if we're referring to a certain bird <em>Athene Noctua</em>, then the feminine side is called for, wouldn't you agree?" </div><div><br />"Huh?" said Bethany. "I don't get it."</div><div><br />"You don't have to Bethany," said Lauren. "White Fowl is the one that's going to get it. Now how are we going to bring her here?"</div><div><br />"You will observe," said Yukiko," that Freya, Tasha and Daliyah aren't here. In fact, they are committing a well planned robbery of rare art at the Fleischer Gallery. It's well known, White Owl protects the art and museum treasures of this city, so she'll be in pursuit." </div><div><br />"Is that a fact?" muttered Lauren. She was answered by the squeal of screeching tires as a dark van rounded the corner at the alleyway to the Celtic Shipping Warehouse. The engine revved and the van roared toward the safety of the warehouse directly across from the office rooftop where Lauren waited with the rest of her gang. </div><div><br />"Here she comes!" Bethany pointed into the night sky and a white blur was whizzing toward the van, intent on nothing but the pursuit. </div><div><br />"Generators are at full strength an' the cannon is ready honey," said Suzy Q. </div><div><br />"Let her have it," shouted Lauren with glee. Suzy Q pressed two buttons on her control panel and a discharge of electricity arced across the sky, smiting the superheroine with a full jolt of high voltage energy. White Owl danced in the air, her hair spreading wide from her hair as the static charge shocked and confused her. </div><div><br />"Fox one" said Felicia, pressing on her own control board. Then..."Fox two! Both missiles running hot." </div><div><br />White Owl struggled to keep her altitude. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs and attempting to blink away the little flashes of light still stuck to her retinas. As she lifted her eyes she saw the first of the two tiny rockets gleaming in the dark night, heading straight for her. In a panic, White Owl dodged left, breathing a sigh of relief as the first missile shot past her.<br />Then she felt the tug of something on her arm. Glancing down in shock she saw a large pink ribbon wrapped tightly around her left arm. The arm was pulled back and White Owl reached back with her other arm to pull the ribbon off. But the rocket was swifter, and with Felicia at the controls, move than maneuverable. The two rockets darted in and out, up and down, spewing their pink ribbon over all parts of White Owl and her costume. The more White Owl struggled, the tighter the ribbon became, pulling her arms and legs into a tight, well wrapped heroine.<br /></div><div>Suzy Q fired her electro cannon once more and White Owl danced again in her cocooned form, the drooped unconscious and tumbled to the harsh asphalt 40 feet below her. </div><div><br />"Oh! Be careful ye daft boffin!" said Lauren. "She's not supposed to be injured! A fall like that coulda killed her!" </div><div><br />"Not likely, sugah," said Suzy Q. "Look." </div><div><br />Lauren glanced over the edge of the building and saw Freya holding an unconscious form wrapped in pink. "Not bad, hey? I play bases ball?" </div><div><br />Lauren let out a sigh of relief, then shouted. "Well don't just stand there! I don't pay you to lollygag." </div><div><br />"Actually Lauren, you do," said Yukiko. "Remember the time we kidnapped that industrialist's daughter in Japan?" Lauren grimaced at Yukiko's pun. </div><div><br />"Listen," said Lauren, waving a pointed finger under Yukiko's calm reserved nose. "I finally got the bird brain to stop making puns. Don't you start now..." She turned away and headed for the roof access. Lauren didn't see Yukiko snicker quietly with Suzy Q and Felicia. </div><div><br />A few minutes later, Lauren preceded her henchwomen into another part of the lab. Freya and Daliyah were settling White Owl's drooping and bound form onto a table with restraints built into it. The two gangsters cinched the restraints on tightly and stepped back just as White Owl began groaning. </div><div><br />Lauren stepped over to her hated nemesis and grabbed a handful of the bound heroine's hair. With her other hand she slapped White Owl across the face. "Wake up, ye nocturnal menace!" </div><div><br />White Owl's eyes fluttered, then with a sudden realization at her predicament she struggled. The pink ribbons were too strong for her, however, and the added restraints were not making matters any easier. Her eyes focused on Lauren and she hissed, "You!" </div><div><br />Lauren tipped her fedora and smiled. "At your service Grey Crow! Though I doubt I'll be seein' much of ye after this." </div><div><br />"What do you mean?" </div><div><br />"I mean, my dear little birdy, that this time my gals and I have finally found a way to stop you...permanently! Those bonds are designed to withstand strength up to Captain Valiant's level, which we all know you're not. And Felicia here has designed one more thing that will keep you completely helpless." </div><div><br />Lauren beckoned and Felicia stepped forward with a silvery hoop about the size of White Owl's head. In her proper Oxford accent, she explained, "We have always had trouble holding you in the past White Owl, because we generally focused on stopping your strength. But all too often you won with your brain too."</div><div> </div><div> Gently, Felicia placed the hoop around White Owl's head. </div><div><br />Continuing her lecture, Felicia said, "So this device will stop both. It won't keep you from thinking, but it fires an interrupter into your neuron flow. Any mental commands to your voluntary muscles will be stopped--or controlled from this board. But since our client wants you alive, then your involuntary functions will be left alone." </div><div><br />Felicia stepped back to the control box and twisted a dial. White Owl grimaced, then her face went blank. Above her, the panel on the wall measured a steady strong heartbeat.<br />"She's all yours boss." Lauren laughed. </div><div><br />Picking up a cell phone, Lauren shot several pictures of her pet superheroine. Then she dialed Hao Chin's phone. "I have a package ready for ye," she said. "Want to see some pictures?" </div><div><br />She transmitted the images to Chin then picked up the conversation. "I've done my bit. Now tell me when and where you want her." She listened a moment nodding.. "All righty then. You'll receive delivery tomorrow night AFTER I confirm the deposit. Good Night!" She snapped the phone shut and tossed it to Freya, who fumbled and dropped it. </div><div><br />"Guess you don't play Bases Ball," giggled Lauren. She looked at Yukiko. "Tomorrow night. Chin said to come alone." </div><div><br />"You don't plan to go alone do you?" asked Yukiko, nervously. </div><div><br />"Of course I do," said Lauren. "You'll be in the other car with the rest of the girls. I may be crazy but I'm not insane. The place we picked is a small valley surrounded by many hills and the river. You lassies will take command on the hills and watch. If anything crazy happens, then you swoop down and save my arse!" </div><div><br />Yukiko felt a headache coming on, but nodded.<br />to be continued </div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-45608976680551127182010-05-03T21:06:00.002-04:002010-05-03T22:41:17.154-04:00Another Fine Mess Chapter Two<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4pki_ulNj-jdDjUAg_RZf5C0vIeztZ9of5-BUZNhdPTwM59D_TxDpANPUGOPxydmIxB_TGY7dncDRG9umKN5ivO63NSnHXY74cldKBm2sZtcS4x0g4yIzULJFF-GAGAAwckpfHrdPCkJ/s1600/Another+Fine+Mess+2a.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467218800627918930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI4pki_ulNj-jdDjUAg_RZf5C0vIeztZ9of5-BUZNhdPTwM59D_TxDpANPUGOPxydmIxB_TGY7dncDRG9umKN5ivO63NSnHXY74cldKBm2sZtcS4x0g4yIzULJFF-GAGAAwckpfHrdPCkJ/s400/Another+Fine+Mess+2a.jpg" /></a> In the wee hours of the morning, the coffee was brewing and lights were on in the main conference room of Celtic Van Lines and Shipping. Lauren sat at the head of the table, her eyes fluttering slightly from the long night and the wine with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin. Still she was able to rouse herself to full awareness as she surveyed her gaggle of girl gangsters like a queen with her courtiers. Though each member of Lauren's inner circle held an undying, unflinching loyalty to the boss, each of them also possessed at least one highly destructive skill or mindset beneficial to the organization.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> sat next to Lauren, and opened the meeting. The slim Japanese woman spoke softly, and with perfect diction and control. Her body was perfectly chiseled, almost sculpted, and bespoke both beauty and power. As she stroked her dark hair away from her ear, Lauren noticed the ending of the Dragon tattoo; <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko's</span> family crest.<br /><br />Lauren had saved <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko's</span> life when a rival <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yakuza</span> clan tried to destroy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko's</span> family. The rival clan had been destroyed by Lauren and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>; but now the young woman considered herself bound to Lauren for as long as the red headed gangster lived. It was a matter of honor.<br /><br />Bethany stood up and handed out thick <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">manila</span> folders as Suzy Q started a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">power point</span> projector. Lauren's eyes followed the comely Bethany for a moment, watching the cute little wiggle the Jersey girl put into her walk. But Lauren was eyes forward as Suzy Q began her presentation.<br /><br />""Hi y'all" began Suzy Q; her accent placing her somewhere well below the Mason Dixon line. She had a dancer's grace, poise and a body to match; suggesting a familiarity with the carnal side of life. Her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">blonde</span> hair and good looks disguised the fact that she had graduated with advanced degrees from both Tulane and MIT with advanced degrees before the age of twenty. Suzy Q discovered though, that even with the credentials, men would judge her by her looks, rather than her talents. She was appalled and disappointed; and quite ready when Lauren recruited her from a dance bar just outside Mobile.<br /><br />Suzy Q cleared her throat and began the presentation. "The challenge before us is to stop White Owl. Now any time we've captured her before, she's defeated us <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">through</span> sheer brute strength, some advanced healing factor in her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">metabolism</span> or some combination of both." Suzy Q nodded her platinum locks across the table to her colleague.<br /><br />"So Felicia and I have developed a two pronged attack that will allow us to both capture her, and contain her for delivery to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hao</span> Chin."<br /><br />"An' how long will it take t' put all of it together?" asked Lauren, leaning forward, hands on her chin.<br /><br />"That depends on White Owl," said Felicia with an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">upperclass</span> British lilt in her voice. Felicia <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">possessed</span> an angelic appearance and a heart that would frighten Satan himself. She had been a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre-</span>med student at St Matthews College in Oxford, but her specialty had been vivisection. Felicia had been asked to leave after the unexplained disappearances of four lab partners. "We need to take a biometric reading, so we can calibrate the missiles to her unique physiology."<br /><br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">MISSILES</span>!! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">JAYZUS</span> CHRIST!" swore Lauren. "As much as it pains me to say it, Felicia, we want the Blue Parakeet ALIVE, and not dead, savvy?" The pretty <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">blonde</span> nodded <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">prettily</span>.<br /><br />"Oh don't worry, sweetie," said Suzy Q, coming to her partner's defense. "These are SPECIAL missiles. And if they work out as planned, well then, we'll have lots of buyers lining up. More money, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">sugah</span>!" Lauren smiled at that and looked around the table.<br /><br />Freya was looking up from her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wacom</span>. Her dark hair was severely short and framed her face in a utilitarian way. "Owl <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">vill</span> be at park this afternoon. Is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">beeg</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">revealink</span>."<br /><br />"You mean the Grand Unveiling?" corrected <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> gently. Freya bobbed her here head vigorously.<br /><br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Da</span>, Grand <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Unweilink</span> at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wictory</span> Park. Is big statuary of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">Qveen</span> City <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">Heros</span>?"<br /><br />"I think she means the new police memorial in Victory Park, Lauren," said <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span>. "They're unveiling the new names today, and White Owl is the guest of honor."<br /><br />Lauren stifled a yawn and looked at her science team. "Will that be enough time?" she asked.<br /><br />"Oh sure <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error">sugah</span>," said Suzy Q with a giggle in her voice. " I already have the bio scanner in a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-error">li'l</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span>' camera. The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ol</span>' Buzzard won't know we're even there. An' once we have her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error">li'l</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-error">ol</span>' bio signature, then Felicia here takes <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error">ovah</span>!"<br /><br />"And we'll be able to find her no matter who she is!" quipped Felicia.<br /><br />"What do ye mean, no matter who she is?" asked Lauren.<br /><br />Bethany laughed. "You don't think she's White Owl all the time do ya boss? I mean she's gotta have a real life, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error">somethin</span>' normal?"<br /><br />"Then why does she dress in a skimpy leotard an' bother me so much," said Lauren, finally drooping over and falling asleep at the table. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yukiko</span> looked over and sighed. <br /><br />"This meeting is over. We will meet again at noon to put the first phase of the operation into action. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-error">Daliyah</span>, will you and Freya stay with me? I will need your assistance." With gentle motions, borne of long practice, the three women gently carried their unconscious leader into her bed. They spent the night in the room with Lauren, taking turns keeping watch over her until the rosy dawn crept high into the sky.<br />*****<br /><br />Statuary Glen at Victory Park was decorated with red white and blue bunting for the newest dedication at the city's police memorial. In the parking lot, well away from the main stands, a Celtic Van Lines truck was parked. But instead of a cargo <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">of risers</span> or seats, it held the cramped control room for Suzy Q's audacious scheme. Lauren was wide awake, and fidgeted nervously, while Suzy Q and Felicia tinkered with the settings on the control panel. As her eyes focused on a monitor, Lauren asked, "Are you sure this will work?" for the fifteenth time.<br /><br />"Yes, all we need is the White Duck and her goose is cooked," said Felicia. <br /><br />"Actually, it won't be all that simple <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-error">sugah</span>," said Suzy Q. But as long as the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-error">Radah</span>, is working we'll be able to track her an' lead her into our trap."<br /><br />Not to be outdone, Felicia said, "The biometric scanner will also enable us to work out effective countermeasures for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">overcoming</span> the Grey Turkey's powers--keeping the bird dormant for as long as it takes."<br /><br />On the monitor, Lauren spotted the white streak against the pale blue sky just seconds before <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-error">Bethan</span> shouted, "Thar she blows!" White Owl slowed to a gentle glide, then landed gracefully on the stage, shaking hands with both Mayor <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pettingill</span> and Police Commissioner Linseed.<br /><br />"Look at her, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" class="blsp-spelling-error">struttin</span>' like a prize pullet" humphed Suzy Q.<br /><br />"That she may be, but I'm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_49" class="blsp-spelling-error">countin</span>' on ye to pluck her and dress her too," replied Lauren.<br /><br />"Don't worry," said Felicia. "I like boning birds." The van pealed with laughter as Felicia's confusion grew. When understanding broke across her face, the deep red of embarrassment burned in her fair cheeks.<br /><br />"I'm so sorry, that was most unladylike," she stammered.<br /><br />"Not to worry lass, I've been known to do it too," said Lauren with a sly wink.<br /><br />The ceremony went off without any further difficulties and was winding down when Lauren asked, "Did we get enough?"<br /><br />"And then some," said Felicia. "I should be able to have this ready within the next week. And after that, no more White Owl."<br /><br />"Then why are we <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_50" class="blsp-spelling-error">sittin</span>' here?" asked Lauren. "With the finest in front o' us an' White Owl there too, I'd say the city is open to a crime wave right about now. How 'bout it ladies?"<br /><br />A resounding cheer rocked the van as it pulled from the parking lot.<br /><br />to be continuedAthenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-23510515552606286032010-04-19T22:06:00.002-04:002010-04-19T22:14:22.141-04:00Another Fine Mess Part One<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LiKyf0fRSTrah8s8sT6hfYvovvEq27_QNlTdExfqfMX3E_Ix6efWHmmF8potub6AH6JJBm7OhVyrNMBNBlF1kpDN7wKkU5x0zNKxuXS7zjIssLY1x-T7e-_yEDcyti4PBZhWP5_WDqvP/s1600/another+fine+mess+1a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 335px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462035782219061074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LiKyf0fRSTrah8s8sT6hfYvovvEq27_QNlTdExfqfMX3E_Ix6efWHmmF8potub6AH6JJBm7OhVyrNMBNBlF1kpDN7wKkU5x0zNKxuXS7zjIssLY1x-T7e-_yEDcyti4PBZhWP5_WDqvP/s400/another+fine+mess+1a.jpg" /></a>The game ended after nine innings, and the Gems had come out on the losing end to the Pirates. The parking garages around the stadium emptied quickly, and Hao Chin, an import dealer from Singapore found himself alone in the third unfamiliar garage close to midnight. Finally spotting his rental car, he quickly crossed through the eerie shadows and pressed the unlock tab on his key fob.<br /><br />The car beeped twice, and Hao Chin sighed, realizing that the hoped for rendezvous had still not occured. He put his hand on the handle of his car and felt a sharp object about his neck.<br /><br />"On your kness Hao Chin, or I'll let Daliyah turn you into dog food." Chin dropped to his knees, his fingers interlaced behind his head.<br /><br />A dark oriental woman reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet and passport. Studying it, she said, "I'm Yukiko, Lauren's top lieutenant. She sent me to meet you and to hear your offer."<br /><br />Despite his submissive pose, Hao Chin held his ground. "No, I will not deal with mere intermediaries or minions."<br /><br />He felt the knife at his throat again, as Yukiko crouched in front of him. He lithe body exuded the grace of a dancer, or perhaps a skilled martial artist, and Hao Chin realized she could take his head off without much effort. "Don't go calling names Mon," he heard in a heavily accented voice.<br /><br />"I am afraid Daliyah doesn't have much patience with intolerance, Mr. Chin," said Yukiko. And in don't have mch patience, period. Once more, the offer?"<br /><br />"No!" said Chin. ""My request was simple. And my orders from my patron were explicit. I am to deal with Lauren O'Rourke, alone. Failing that, then death would be welcome to my honor."<br /><br />A black Mecedes turned on its headlamps, and the door opened. "A'right Chin, ye got y'r meeting. I'm Lauren O'Rourke." The slender, elegant redhead was dressed in a cream colored linen pantsuit, with a green silk blouse underneath setting off her emerald eyes. A cream colored fedora was perched at a Sinatraesque angle on top of her head, completing the look. Confidence exuded from her like an exquisite perfume.<br /><br />"No, no, don't get up on my account," said Lauren, a soft Celtic lilt matching her fey features. "And we O'Rourke's have the Sight,; so I'll know if you're trying to pull a fast one. " She dismissed her guards and nodded toward the Mercedes.<br /><br />"Supposin' I treat this as a business meeting, then. Would you be amenable to a late seafood dinner?" asked Lauren.<br /><br />"I suppose so, provided you call me again," deadpanned Chin.<br />Lauren tittered politely at the lame joke, and thirty minutes later, both Lauren and Chin were seated in a private room at Mantooth's Fine Seafood Restaurant. After the waiter brought the food, the doors were shut and the two of them enjoyed a bit of privacy as Yukiko and and Daliyah provided security just outside the door.<br /><br />"I thought people in your profession preferred eating pasta," said Hao Chin, as he sliced into a large salmon steak.<br /><br />"You have me confused with the bloody Italians," replied Lauren, nibbling daintily on shrimp scampi. "We Irish eat anythin' and are glad of it."<br /><br />"My apologies, I meant no offense."<br /><br />"None taken," said Lauren. She waited a moment while the wineglasses were refilled, then said. "Now down to business. What brings an importer like you halfway around the world. It must be something unique if you can't find it in Singapore."<br /><br />Chin wiped his face with a napkin and nodded. "Very rare, indeed. In fact, one of a kind. You might even say a <em>rara avis</em>."<br /><br />"You're importin' bloody BIRDS?" Lauren sounded incredulous. "An' just what sort of unique bird calls Queen City home?"<br /><br />"My buyer requests a predatory bird. One which you have as much reason to see gone as I do to see acquired. An Owl."<br /><br />Lauren's elfin face did a poor job of masking her surprise. "You want my help in capturin' that beaked busybody?" Tossing her head back, Lauren convulsed in laughter.<br /><br />"Oh Laddie," she said eventually, wiping a tear from her eye. "I'd be DELIGHTED to help you acquire this item. Hell, I may even do it <em>gratis!"</em> At this, Lauren's lieutenants gasped. She waved at the two of them.<br /><br />"Don't worry lassies. I haven't addled my wits yet," said Lauren. Turning back to Hao Chin, she added, "So what's in it for me, besides gettin' rid of the Hooter, I mean?"<br /><br />Chin took a pen and small notebook from his pocket, then scribbled a number on it. He slid the folded paper to his hostess, then sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. Lauren took up the paper and studied it carefully. "Is this your offer? Or is this a joke?"<br /><br />Chin frowned, "That's my offer."<br /><br />"That's a joke," Lauren replied, wadding up the slip of paper and burning it in the ashtray. "I take all the risks, lay out all the capital for a capture AND containment system, prepare the acquisition for transport, and YOU get all the reward? Not bloody likely at this price. I'd go into the hole on this one. I think you can do better. I'll give you just one more chance."<br /><br />Chin looked worried. Trembling, he picked up his pad and scrutinized the numbers again. "Just a moment ago, you said you were willing to do this for free," he protested.<br /><br />"That was me heart talkin'. But where these contracts are concerned, I stifle the little bastard an' listen to me brain. Now are you going to write? or am I going to walk out and never call you again?"<br /><br />Chin began to write with Yukiko standing over one shoulder. He was about to slide the pad back when Lauren said, "Add another zero."<br /><br />"You can't be serious!" protested Chin.<br /><br />"I'm always serious when I talk money," said Lauren. "And I want half now and half on delivery. And I want to know who the buyer is. After all, someone wants to buy a superheroine, he must think he's pretty hot stuff."<br /><br />"I will agree to half now and half on delivery," said Chin. "But I will not tell you who the buyer is. After all, you might try to undercut me and offer him a better deal. Now I can transfer the money early tomorrow morning if you'd like?"<br /><br />Lauren opened a cell phone and pressed one button, "Not necessary. Hold on a minute." She spoke into the phone. "Hello Leticia? Its me, be prepared for a large transfer." Lauren rattled off a long series of numbers. Then she handed the phone to Chin.<br /><br />"This is Leticia, my Bahamian banker. She's willing to arrange a transfer now. And I'll sign any paperwork in the meanwhile?"<br /><br />"Oh no, no paperwork, Ms O'Rourke," said Chin. "I trust you'll stick to the terms discussed. And there should be soomething special just for you upon sucessful completion? Call it a bonus."<br /><br />Chin turned to the telephone, then scribbled something down and handed the confirmation to Lauren. Lauren nodded then spoke to Chin again, "I'll contact you in three weeks to arrange the transfer on my end. I trust that will be sufficient time?"<br /><br />Chin agreed. "I will be travelling around the country, working on a few other acquisitions. Your Western styles appeals to many in my markets. You have my contact information?" Lauren nodded and Chin stood and bowed, then showed himself out.<br /><br />Once the door closed Yukiko said, "I do not trust him."<br /><br />"You'd be a right foo to do so," agreed Lauren. "But the money is good an' if it rids us of the White Chicken, then so much the better." She stood and stretched, her taut form exciting both Yukiko and Daliyah. Fully aware of the reactions she elicited, Lauren turned back to the two women and said, "Get the Council together. We need to make plans to cook the Grey Goose!"<br />(to be continued)Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-82671016387275701082010-04-05T22:24:00.003-04:002010-04-05T22:38:58.681-04:00Fever Pitch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawH_36gm99mI3grFPgaJ9SXWNjju9cW9b8Poyr776Jj_ZtDikJo-2NhvyKRvnyZ0g_oWXbC_Gu8qzJFU-Bx3Rls3AT-Ca5V8feKp1zNCYwro8wgt0fffgivTfuX2CQB6SwNdSNpb0X3Pc/s1600/wo+consultation.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456844927414604386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawH_36gm99mI3grFPgaJ9SXWNjju9cW9b8Poyr776Jj_ZtDikJo-2NhvyKRvnyZ0g_oWXbC_Gu8qzJFU-Bx3Rls3AT-Ca5V8feKp1zNCYwro8wgt0fffgivTfuX2CQB6SwNdSNpb0X3Pc/s400/wo+consultation.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vP5jtre2v_cUX_BZbseHi_82zBvFwun4WezgQxVzmHTHhnNe52solHWO_8jgdX7ejuCq4z_egpOAOUtSpyF5VjsuUY-PTjMc7sRywvvkdXKPIv_U752qsIaP_-SRMJ4ySEnoYw8vXQtg/s1600/you+missed.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 338px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456844917541596642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vP5jtre2v_cUX_BZbseHi_82zBvFwun4WezgQxVzmHTHhnNe52solHWO_8jgdX7ejuCq4z_egpOAOUtSpyF5VjsuUY-PTjMc7sRywvvkdXKPIv_U752qsIaP_-SRMJ4ySEnoYw8vXQtg/s400/you+missed.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>The plane set down in Hub City right on schedule. I looked up from my Ipod and waited patiently for the other passengers on the Trans Air Commuter flight to deplane, then grabbed my messenger bag and followed along. After grabbing my suitcase from the carousel, I flagged a taxi and settled in.<br /></div><div>"Where ya goin' lady?" asked the driver; his Hub City accent nasally and distinct.<br /></div><div>"75 Basin Street," I replied. "It's in Comisky."<br /></div><div>"Yeah, I know the neighborhood. Grew up a few blocks away on Canal." He eased the long yellow Impala into traffic and followed the expressway around Hub to the Comisky exit. As he drove, we chatted, typical small talk.<br /></div><div>"You from Hub?" he asked.<br /></div><div>"No, Queen City," I smiled, seeing his ears droop and knowing what was coming next.<br /></div><div>"Yeah, home of the Gems," he said. "Not a bad team, but nothin' on our Bruins."<br /></div><div>"Well, yes, we've had a rough few years," I said. "But we have a more recent World Series than your Bruins."<br /></div><div>At that the baseball talk stopped. "C'n I ask what brings a nice lady like you t' Hub City?"<br /></div><div>"Oh a personal visit, and a trip to my doctor."<br /></div><div>"You doin' both in one trip?" he asked.<br /></div><div>"I'm doing both in one stop," I replied. "My friend and my physician are both Dr Abu Mirelleh." The cab pulled up to the large brownstone Alyssa owned. the lower level was where she held her private practice, the upper two floors were her elegant home. I stepped from the cab and paid the gentleman, complete with a generous tip; then looked around Alyssa's neighborhood.<br />Her house fronted on a large park, part of a square. In the grass, I saw small children flying kites or playing on the swings, with their mothers or nannies close at hand watching intently. A Comisky patrol car drove up the block and I waved at the police officer, smiling as she waved back.<br /></div><div>I walked up the steps to the front door and opened it wide. "Anybody home?" I called out.<br /></div><div>"Hi Athena, I'll be right down," I heard Alyssa call from upstairs. I set my bags against the wall and sat in the waiting room. A moment later, Alyssa stepped into the exam room, with my folder in her hand. She was of average height, but slender, and her dark black hair hung down to the small of her back. Her skin was a golden brown, betraying her Arab roots; and her eyes were filled with intelligence. She smiled as she saw me and I stood up to give her a hug.<br /></div><div>"Gosh you look fantastic Alyssa," I said.<br /></div><div>"I could say the same about you, roomie," she said. Her accent was noticeable but not thick; and served more to enhance her exotic looks than detract from them. "But that's why you're here isn't it?" A hint of a smile played at her lips.<br /></div><div>"Thank you for arranging your schedule to see me a bit earlier than usual, Athena," said Alyssa. </div><div> </div><div>"This time, I need to be out of town for a while."<br /></div><div>"Oh really?" I said interested. "Is it a continuing education credit?"<br />"Nothing so mundane,"said Alyssa, handing me a hospital gown. "Why don't you slip into this, and I'll fill you in during the examination." I frowned, looking at the less than flattering cover, but knew it was a necessity.<br /></div><div>I changed quickly, and Alyssa began her exam. "Breathe deep, hold it." The stethoscope was cool against my bare skin. Alyssa listened intently, moving the stethoscope around. The exam moved swiftly and after it was over, Alyssa nodded.<br /></div><div>"Good news?" I said.<br /></div><div>"You're as healthy as a horse," Alyssa said. "But what can you expect from someone who has goddess given healing? What I wouldn't give for that now." She smiled, knowing its a secret I share with only one or two people. "Off hand, I'd say you have the body of a woman much younger than your 29 years."<br /></div><div>"Hey watch it Doctor. Or I'll tell YOUR age." That brought a laugh and I began dressing again, sitting on the exam table as Alyssa finished her notes.<br /></div><div>"You asked why I had to reschedule your appointment. Have you ever heard of Hickory Grove, Missouri?"<br /></div><div>"Should I?" I asked.<br /></div><div>"Not really. There have been a few things in the paper, but it's been pretty well kept quiet. Some sort of disease has broken loose there. Early indications are it's a variation on the bubonic plague. So far, it's been quarantined to a few families. But the CDC asked for a few volunteers to help contain the disease and to do further studies. It's a mutation, as I said, and normal antibiotics aren't working."<br /></div><div>"So why you?"<br /></div><div>"My background in immunology research and immunization make me a good candidate for the research team. And I WANT to go Athena. Not for any notoriety, but because I can do some good. Isn't that why you do it?"<br /></div><div>I nodded. "That's exactly why. That whole, 'with great power comes great responsibility' thing. So when do you go?"<br /></div><div>"My flight is tomorrow. I fly into Joplin and catch a ride with a truck from Tipton pharmaceuticals. Any time a large dose of drugs is shipped , a doctor has to ride along to verify nothing was changed out."<br /></div><div>"Sounds like it's a terrific opportunity for you," I said. "Be careful Alyssa, I don't want you to get hurt. I'd hate to break in a new doctor."<br /></div><div>"I don't think you'll need to. I'm off to the lab, rather than the hospitals. So I'll be getting my hands dirty in clean rooms, so to speak."<br /></div><div>My stomach gurgled, and Alyssa laughed. </div><div> </div><div>"Lets go get this taken care of," I said. "My treat."<br /></div><div>"All right, but this still doesn't excuse you from paying the bill for service rendered," Alyssa chided.<br /></div><div>After a delicious and decadent lunch, I bid Alyssa goodbye and caught a late flight back to Queen City. Alyssa promised to call me after she got to Joplin and to keep in touch.<br />I spent the night on a swift patrol, but Queen City seemed too caught up in the first warm nights of spring and crime seemed to have taken the night off. I went to bed relatively early, and slept peacefully.<br /></div><div>It was late afternoon when Alyssa's number turned up on my cell phone. "Hey Alyssa," I said. "I thought you were going to Joplin in the morning."<br /></div><div>"I've been here since about ten," she replied. "But there was a hold up with the truck from Tipton. Apparently, the original driver got ill, though not with the plague; and they had to scramble to get a backup driver. We've been on the road here about an hour with the first supply of the vaccine. We should be in Hickory Grove in another hour or two. We'll still have time to immunize the city, and possibly save some lives already down with the disease."<br /></div><div>"Sounds good to me," I said. I was about to wish Alyssa luck when I heard a loud noise over Alyssa's phone. "What was that?" I asked.<br /></div><div>All I got was static. "Alyssa? ALYSSA!!!"<br /></div><div>I heard a groan. "The truck..ambush...unnnhhh."<br /></div><div>Through the telephone I heard people scrambling through thick brush. Voices, harsh and masculine. "Truck appears all right sir."<br /></div><div>"Who's in the cab with the driver?"<br /></div><div>"The doctor. It's a woman!"<br /></div><div>While the drama was unfolding on my cell phone, I pulled my White Owl phone from my purse and dialed Captain Winslow. "Captain, it's White Owl," I said, trying to maintain an urgent but not panicked tone.<br /></div><div>"Good to hear from you," said Winslow. "What's up?"<br /></div><div>"A truck hijacking, near Hickory Grove Missouri. Can you get their police alerted?"<br />"</div><div>Yeah I can do that, but it may take them some time to get there. I'll let the Missouri State troopers know, too."<br /></div><div>"Fantastic," I replied. "Oh and one more thing."<br /></div><div>"What's that?"<br /></div><div>"Let them know I'm coming--should be there in about four hours."<br /></div><div>"You got it."<br /></div><div>I closed the "Owl-phone" and listened intently to Alyssa's drama.<br /></div><div>"Hey she's a doc, right?"<br /></div><div>"Yeah"<br /></div><div>"Pete and Barney are in pretty sad shape. Maybe she can fix 'em up."<br /></div><div>"All right, dump the driver and bring the doctor. But make it quick, the cops will be here soon." There was a pause, and I heard the last voice say, " Maybe even sooner. She's got a cell phone open and on." Alyssa's line went dead.<br /></div><div>Five minutes seemed a long time as I swiftly changed. Never before had the NuSilk seemed so constricting and grasping as I tried to pull it over my form. But I soon was aloft and on my way to Missouri.<br /></div><div>I landed in Hickory Grove near midnight and was met by the Sheriff, Greg Saunders. An older lawman, he still stood straight and whipcord thin. His dark hair was just starting to grow gray and an aura of easy authority hung on his shoulders. "Glad to meet you Ms Owl, jest wish it had been under better circumstances."<br /></div><div>"The pleasure is mine," I said, taking his hand. "What's the situation?"<br /></div><div>"We found the truck, empty. No sign of the doctor or the medicine. The driver was in pretty bad shape too. There were helicopter tracks near the truck. Mah guess is they off loaded the vaccine into a chopper and flew it outta here." Saunders handed me a slip of paper.<br /></div><div>This came in about an hour ago, White Owl. Their demands for the ransom."<br /></div><div>I studied it intently. "Ten Million Dollars?"<br /></div><div>"Yep, an' no chance of Hickory Grove gainin' that much in the 24 hours they gave us." Saunders nodded and I looked over my shoulder to see a heavy man in a white lab coat approaching.<br /></div><div>"Is this her?" he asked the sheriff.<br /></div><div>"Yeah," Sheriff Saunders replied. "Doctor Westin, meet White Owl. I was just apprisin' her of the situation." Westin was maybe 5'6" tall, round where Saunders was thin and balding where Saunders still had a full head of hair. </div><div> </div><div>Westin shook my hand without emotion and said, "Thank God you're here. You brought the vaccine, right?"<br /></div><div>"I did not. I am here for other reasons."<br /></div><div>Westin glared at me and said, "They gave us a 24 hour deadline White Owl, but I don't have that much time. I have 15 people in a ward over at the hospital dyin' of this plague an' in 24 hours we'll have more. The genie's out of the bottle right now and this vaccine would save lives."<br /></div><div>"Do you have time to get more?" I asked.<br /></div><div>"Not in time. Tipton shipped all they had, and they were the only ones working on this."<br /></div><div>I turned to look at Sheriff Saunders. "Do you have the number for the Joplin airport? I need to check something out."<br /></div><div>Saunders looked surprised, but nodded. Twenty minutes later, and using the sheriff's authority I had the answer I wanted.<br /></div><div>"Air traffic included an unidentified helicopter in the area about five hours ago. They tracked it to someplace called Baptiste Mountain?" </div><div><br />Saunders pointed at a topographical map of the area. "Sure! Nothin' there though except an old monastery. Benedictine order owned it. It was abandoned about forty years ago though. The vineyards are only so much bramble now, and no one goes there."<br /></div><div>"Sounds like a place for the rats to gather," I said. "And there's no better rat catcher than an owl." I put my hand on the Sheriff's shoulder and added, "Get your deputies and meet me out there in three hours or so."<br /></div><div>"You can't go alone!" both Saunders and Westin said, almost in unison.<br /></div><div>"I can't bring an army, either, I said. "They'd spot us a mile away and begin to use us for target practice. Alone, I have a chance to get the drop on them. I need to get moving, there are lives at stake. I'll see you soon Sheriff."<br /></div><div>I turned to leap into the air and felt Westin's hammy fist on my bare shoulder. "White Owl, NO! You were exposed to me and to the Sheriff! YOU could have the disease."<br /></div><div>I shook the arm off and leapt into the air. "Sorry Doctor, something in my ear, I can't hear you." I flew off into the night, praying my healing factor would be able to stop any bugs I picked up from the doctor.<br /></div><div>My prayers didn't seem to have any effect. My insides were churning and I could feel my vision blurring. Apparently, the accelerated healing also applied to accelerated symptoms of an unknown disease. I saw Baptiste Mountain looming in the moonlight, and brought myself down in the woods at the foot of the monastery. </div><div><br />"Better climb from here," I thought. "I can hug the mountain and make it harder for them to see." One advantage to my powers is that I can free climb without any any pitons or ropes, but if I'd been infected, it was taking a toll on me. </div><div><br />I reached for a rock spur, and watched the ground blur again, my head pounding. But a vision of Alyssa also was in my head and I spurred myself upward. The yards of the bluff dropped below as I ascended and as I reached the top, I saw no activity in back of the monastery. Right above me was a broken stained glass window. I leaped onto the sill and saw three men milling among the pillars. I couldn't see Alyssa, but I knew I needed to act. </div><div><br />I covered my eyes and jumped through the window, my left foot kicking one man in the chin and sending him reeling backward. </div><div><br />Behind me, I heard someone shout, "Look out boss, it's White Owl." The boss dropped to the floor, and I landed a bit harder than I planned. Shakily I got to my feet and saw five other men I threw a bop ball, striking a second man and dropping him to the floor with a heavy thud. He groaned once and stopped moving. I dropped behind a set of crates marked Tipton and considered my options.<br /></div><div>"Stop her you fool! She's only one woman!" A large man with a beret seemed to be giving orders. Since the boss was out, he must be the lieutenant. I threw a paint ball, striking him in the face. Orange paint smeared his glasses and his rifle shot went high, rebounding off the marble font. </div><div> </div><div>Rolling out from behind the crates I sprung to my feet and decked a fourth man. </div><div><br />I stood, gasping for breath, losing myself for a moment. I heard guns clicking on either side of me. I looked to my left and right, spotting the last two goons aiming pistols at me. "They have me flanked," I thought. "And I can barely stand." </div><div><br />I felt my knees buckle and dropped to the floor. "So why stand, when these goons are dumb enough to shoot one another?" Above me the two pistols barked, and each man groaned, clutching non-fatal wounds. </div><div><br />The stone floor was cool against my fevered skin. I struggled to stand up; knowing I had to find Alyssa. Was she even still alive? I had to hope she was. </div><div><br />I got to one knee and wiped my head with a NuSilk glove. Behind me I heard the click of a pistol being cocked. Whirling, I heard the sound and shrieked in pain as a bullet ripped through my left shoulder. Three more bullets flattened against my NuSilk leotard, in a tight grouping between my breasts. I groaned, clutching at my wounded shoulder and dropped to the floor again. From the shadows of a large support pillar, the boss loomed over me. </div><div><br />"You counted me out too early, White Owl," he said, stepping into the light and aiming his gun. "Fatal mistake. And since it appears you're bulletproof around your heart, this one will go right between your eyes."<br /></div><div>"Keep gloating," I thought, using my right arm to release one more ball from my belt. I threw the ball, shakily, past the boss's shoulder. He laughed, but the gun never wavered in his hand.<br /></div><div>"Your aim is off a little there, birdie. I assume that the disease is eating you up inside, making it impossible to aim correctly. Not that it matters, because in approximately two seconds you'll be dea..." </div><div><br />BOOOOOMM!!! The flash-bang grenade exploded behind him, shifting the heavy granite cross over the boss' head. The cross tumbled over landing with a heavy thud on the boss' head and his gun spoke once more, shattering the remaining rosette window. He dropped to the floor, unconscious under the heavy icon. </div><div><br />"I...I think you counted ME out too soon," I said, drooping unconscious against the vaccines.</div><div><br />I don't know how long I lay there, but the next thing I saw was the familiar and concerned face of Alyssa shaking me. "White Owl? Are you all right?" Behind her, I could see Sheriff Saunders and his deputies taking the gang members prisoner. </div><div><br />"I feel ... Can you give me a shot of that vaccine? Then maybe you and Doctor Westin can get it down to Hickory Grove and maybe save some lives." </div><div><br />Alyssa smiled. "Count on it. But you're not going anywhere for about twenty four hours. I'd say it would take about that long for your wound to heal too."<br /></div><div>I nodded, then drifted off again as the EMTs loaded me on the gurney.<br /></div><div>The End. (disclaimer--Adapted FREELY from <em>World's Finest 245</em> a Vigilante story by Bill Kunkel and art by Gray Morrow)</div></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-84718339292119088442010-03-31T16:31:00.004-04:002010-03-31T20:32:19.823-04:00Old Friends Part 5<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCwpBK2V6raDoU34F1WGpgUotJGyEKZBEa0w18TBulp6pgbQk38JuRQ8eN9ZkIRSZBU539zdMnogWtfO8YVQPLckWY8ympNy2XG0cDDHy9XRGxIgrqEvSKyp7sp3P8jR5Cku55658iGUt/s1600/Old+Friends+part+5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 338px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454903307039582114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCwpBK2V6raDoU34F1WGpgUotJGyEKZBEa0w18TBulp6pgbQk38JuRQ8eN9ZkIRSZBU539zdMnogWtfO8YVQPLckWY8ympNy2XG0cDDHy9XRGxIgrqEvSKyp7sp3P8jR5Cku55658iGUt/s400/Old+Friends+part+5.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> worked quickly; a man who seemed at ease, as he divested Dark Owl of her black costume and mask. Setting her costume carefully on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">display</span> case, he dragged the unconscious Melody into a chair and display case matching mine. </div><div></div><div>With a practiced hand, he set titanium clamps around Melody's nearly elfin wrists and ankles. He stroked her cheek and brushed a reluctant red curl from her face, then smiled in satisfaction. Stepping back out of the small display case, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> pressed a red button on the wall. Melody's case clicked shut and a blue glow emanated from the floor, limning her nearly nude form. The blue light glowed along all the edges of her case, yet Melody didn't respond to the lights.</div><div></div><div>I continued watching through slitted eyes. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> picked up Melody's costume and opened a new shadow box. He carefully arranged Melody's outfit in the case, then carefully locked the door. The display lamps illuminated both her costume and mine and I couldn't help but think of the little display cards we hung in the museum for such displays. "White Owl's costume" and "Dark Owl's costume". I wondered if <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> had a full bio and guide book planned out as well. Were we to become exhibits in some freakish travelling show? Or was this strictly a private museum, and only invited guests were allowed admission?</div><div></div><div>I faked being asleep as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> unlocked my case and came back inside. But I felt something jab my shoulder and heard the hiss of a hypo gun. "I know you're not sleeping White Owl," said <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>. "So these muscle relaxants ought to keep you at bay while I make some changes to your environment." He stepped back as the medicine worked through my system. I felt my arms go heavy, then it became hard to hold my head up.</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> tilted my chin up and I stared at him with eyes that seemed to shimmy in and out of focus. "Not so high and mighty now, are you White Owl?" he sneered. His free hand found my bra strap and he pulled it free, pulling the cup from my left breast. He held the breast in his hand, kneading and massaging it. "I've been hearing all those leering fan boys talk about this and they're right--you're remarkable."</div><div></div><div>"Yo..you...you're taking a....lot for granted..." I slurred.</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> jumped back like he'd been shot. "You can still talk through all that? I was assured that dose would stop a moose in it's tracks."</div><div></div><div>I forced a grin--but could only feel the sides of my lips tremble slightly. "N...northb..ound? Or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sssouthbound</span> Moose?"</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> frowned and wasted no more time. He held up a sinister pair of bracers. "Do you remember these?" he asked, chuckling. I could sense the nervousness in his voice, that of a man who suddenly realized the situation was no longer under his control. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> continued, "Of course not--at least not in this form." I kept my mouth shut, allowing him to think I was still weak from the drugs (which I was) and not in control of my mind (which WASN'T true),</div><div></div><div>Unlocking the left wrist restraint from the chair, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> took my limp arm and snapped a bracer over my wrist. "There are the power dampers that Techno used on you." I must have looked puzzled because he added quickly, "No, not the originals. You destroyed them too thoroughly. But I found <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Techno's</span> notes at a con 6 months ago and traded them to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Salvager</span> in Angel Falls. He retro-engineered them and made them a little nicer looking."</div><div></div><div>As the bracer snapped onto my arm, a green light glowed, indicating the damper was draining my strength and flight abilities. The process was swiftly repeated for my other arm. I felt my hopes dashing, because <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Techno's</span> dampers had done the job all too effectively. As I was lost in my reminiscing, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> unlocked my leg restraints. I couldn't even muster the strength to stand. Whatever he was using as a muscle relaxant, it was effective.</div><div></div><div>With my hands free to move, though, I forced myself to stand and on shaky limbs I pointed to Melody. "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Whaaaat</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">abooutt</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">hrrr</span>?" I slurred again.</div><div></div><div>She'll be locked into her chair for about a week," <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> replied. "Long enough for the X-45 formula to wash out of her system. Of course her brain will fry as well, but those are the chances one takes collecting. I'll still have ONE intelligent Owl though. His hand squeezed my breast again, and my eyes narrowed in fury.</div><div></div><div>"I'll get past these restraints <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>," I said--my voice suddenly clear and intense. "And when I do you'd better be off planet, because no where on earth will be safe for you if Melody is harmed." <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder's</span> hand moved back and the startled man moved from my case, closing it tightly and pressing the red button matching Melody's. A similar light glowed from the floor of MY case and I pounded <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">futilely</span> on the walls. </div><div></div><div>Time passed slowly, and with no outside light I couldn't tell if it was day or night, or how much time had passed. Melody roused and jerked in her restraints, but the soundproof cases meant I couldn't hear her. The best lip read I could do though indicated that she was blaming me for her troubles again.</div><div></div><div>I settled into the chair again and tried to sleep. I would need energy to try and escape. I had no hopes of getting past <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">Techno's</span> power dampers, remembering all too well how they'd kept me helpless before. Despite all my relaxation and calming techniques, I had a hard time falling asleep.</div><div></div><div>I blinked into alert wakefulness though, when I noticed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> standing above me, holding my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">toolbelt</span>. His face was contorted in anger. "Where is it?" he demanded, slapping my face with the back of his hand.</div><div></div><div>I felt the pain, and resolved not to cry. "Where is WHAT?" I responded.</div><div></div><div>"The mask remover."</div><div></div><div>I smirked. "You don't think I carry it with me? That's a special solvent and if it fell into the wrong hands, my identity would be compromised. It's in my home in Queen City."</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> raised his hand again, but I just stared calmly at him. His hand lowered and he waved the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">toolbelt</span> in my face again. "I think you're lying to me White Owl. I think you keep some of the solvent in here in case you need to change in a hurry." I kept my face neutral and my gaze steady.</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> reached into the pouches and pulled out several balls. "I know these are bop balls, and net balls. But this one is smaller. This is the solvent, isn't it?" He shook the ball and a bright spray of orange paint coated him from the top of his thinning hair to the bottom of his Dior suit.</div><div></div><div>"No," I replied calmly. "That's a paint ball; one of my newer inventions" Looking past <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>, I could see Melody laughing at his misfortune. But when she saw me, she stopped and rancor once again filled her eyes. I ignored her and stayed focused on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>. With a fluid motion, I rose from the chair, and did a front kick into his stomach. The collector doubled over, falling out of my display case and I raced after him. My second kick caught him in the knee and I saw <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> buckle, with his knee dislocated. </div><div></div><div>I dove to the other <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">control</span> panel and pressed the green button. Melody's case went dark and the metal latches on her restraints fell off as well. Like a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">woman</span> possessed she pounced from the display cube and landed on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>, pounding him with powerful blows to the back of his head.</div><div></div><div>"Melody, calm down!" I shouted, grabbing her and throwing her off of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>. She pinwheeled into the display cases and suddenly I realized that the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-error">Salvager's</span> reproduction dampers were just so much junk. I returned my attention to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>.</div><div></div><div>"Not much of a Gentleman are you?" I asked, grabbing him by the seat of his pants. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> whimpered, and I grabbed my belt from his orange hand. "Mr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wickersham</span> is going to have a fit," I thought as I saw the orange on the finely tooled leather. </div><div></div><div>I whirled <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> around, slamming him into the far wall. "What did you mean when you were jabbering about the X-45? That was a failed super soldier formula in World War 2. "</div><div></div><div><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> stammered..."An...and Hellfire made sure Melody got several doses. She's addicted now. </div><div>She got powerfully strong and athletic, like you; but the X-45 destroyed her moral compass. She's completely amoral now. She needs to renew her 'fix' every other day or the drug starts to wash out. And all the benefits of X-45 go with it--her strength, her intelligence and so forth. What's worse, anything she had BEFORE the drug goes with it too."</div><div></div><div>I clenched <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder's</span> tie and pulled the knot tighter. "How long has it been since she's had any?" </div><div></div><div>"A..at least 36 hours." he stammered. "She's done for. I don't have any X-45 here."</div><div></div><div>"She's not done for," I said. Then <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-error">KLANNNNGGGGG</span>!!!!!! I staggered backward as the heavy chair from Melody's case careened off my cranium." I drooped on one knee and then to the floor as the chair struck home again.</div><div></div><div>"That's MY man, you whore," said Melody. She was clad in her black suit again, and evil stretched out over her face. I sagged to the floor and Melody grabbed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> by the neck, squeezing it oh, so gently.</div><div></div><div>"Hello lover, remember me?" <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> trembled as he hung suspended from the floor. "You were very naughty to lock me in the box. Mama may have to punish you."</div><div></div><div>"For the love of God White Owl, Save me!" cried <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>.</div><div></div><div>"Neither God NOR that bitch will save you, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lover boy</span>. You're at my mercy now and I have n..."</div><div>Melody staggered and waved an arm over her face. She dropped <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_49" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> and swooned. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_50" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> tried to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_51" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stand but</span> found himself once again snared by a powerful arm.</div><div></div><div>"Not so fast, Mr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_52" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>, we still have unfinished business." The collector squirmed again and I sat him down in the chair that had formerly held me, bending the restraints tightly around him.</div><div></div><div>"I'd love to take you in now, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_53" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>," I said. "But I have an old friend who needs my help right now." I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_54" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">quickly</span> donned my costume and felt a sense of both identity and relief as the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_55" class="blsp-spelling-error">NuSilk</span> settled against my skin. I buckled my belt around my hips and scooped Melody into my arms. Looking over my shoulder, I told <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_56" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> I'd send the police.</div><div>****</div><div>Three days later, I was sitting down to breakfast in Empire City as Stirling fussed with the Java blend that Virgil's company had named "Athena's Gift" I poked at my scrambled eggs and looked sheepishly at Virgil. "I'm still not <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_57" class="blsp-spelling-error">sure</span> I understand the passion you have for collecting," I said.</div><div></div><div>"I'm not surprised, considering you almost became an artifact yourself," replied Virgil with a chuckle. "But think of it like your archaeology digs. You're looking for something in particular, something that ties you to the ancients who once walked that site. It's something like that."</div><div></div><div>I considered that and nodded. "I can <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_58" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">certainly</span> understand why some people call archaeologists 'grave robbers.' It's disconcerting to think that great times 1<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_59" class="blsp-spelling-error">oo</span> grandma's things are being picked through by strangers. And its MORE disconcerting when one is treated like an object oneself--dispassionately I mean."</div><div></div><div>"Well I consider you passionately," said Virgil. Behind him, Stirling rolled his eyes. I giggled. </div><div></div><div>Virgil smiled too. and said, "It IS true though Athena. But what happened in the end?"</div><div></div><div>"Well, I got Melody to Dr Emerson at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_60" class="blsp-spelling-error">Meadowbrook</span>, and they thought they could help cure her with a judicious dose of X-47, weaning her off X-45 then stepping down the dose of the other without the side effects. But she escaped two days later."</div><div></div><div>"And <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_61" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>?" </div><div></div><div>He'd just gotten free from the chair when the sheriff and his deputies showed up. He's in detention in St Matthews right now for kidnapping and larceny. I also understand a certain hero from Empire City is trying to have several racketeering and robbery charges brought in too--so he may wind up in federal court soon." I looked out the window and sighed.</div><div></div><div>"She's out there again, Virgil. And it's my fault."</div><div></div><div>I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You did the right thing, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_62" class="blsp-spelling-error">Theena</span>. You helped an old friend. And her escaping isn't your fault."</div><div></div><div>I buried my head in his shoulder and cried...</div><div></div><div>The end.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-4387559517916831492010-03-04T22:38:00.002-05:002010-03-04T22:44:09.849-05:00Old Friends Part 4<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSi6uFcDWnb81z55vFJOQyzWyIFNDZBBaxVF_cvw0dTo5P1dVHryTjkeKcrH3vW5YLKouvft6TFom9659opUiruQ_qQ3w2r4qlnYlEifSA9o_1gtb57zChwF7aJ13rxEga0xiAHzsbgiY/s1600-h/unmasked.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 327px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444989494424749810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSi6uFcDWnb81z55vFJOQyzWyIFNDZBBaxVF_cvw0dTo5P1dVHryTjkeKcrH3vW5YLKouvft6TFom9659opUiruQ_qQ3w2r4qlnYlEifSA9o_1gtb57zChwF7aJ13rxEga0xiAHzsbgiY/s400/unmasked.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br />Melody rolled the unconscious heroine onto her side and unzipped the white jacket, pulling it from White Owl's shoulders. Then she quickly wrapped titanium cables around White Owl's wrists and legs. She slipped an anesthetic mask over White Owl's face and adjusted the control. Too much would run the supply out too soon, not enough and White Owl would likely overcome the fumes and break free.<br /><br />"It's not like I haven't outsmarted you before," muttered Melody as she unbuckled White Owl's tool belt and shoved it into a black Ultrasuede bag. She poked the drowsing superheroine, and satisfied went into her room, where she discarded the entire persona of Sonata and stepped into the form fitting black outfit she wore as Dark Owl.<br /><br />White Owl was stirring slightly as the Dark Owl returned to the sitting room. She adjusted the flow of the anesthetic, and White Owl drooped once more into slumber. Dark Owl lifted her prisoner over her shoulder and carried her to a silvery looking sarcophagus that stood in the corner. "You thought you'd never see me again, didn't you White Owl? Well in a few moments that's going to be true." Dark Owl laid her burden into the sarcophagus and strapped White Owl into the case. Then she shut the silvery lid, hiding her captive carefully.<br /><br />KNOCK KNOCK "Bellman!" Dark Owl grimaced. She had very little time.<br /><br />"Just a moment." she said. With a strength that belied her size, she lifted the sarcophagus and brought it down in the bathroom, then closed the door tightly. She threw White Owl's jacket over her shoulders, shinnied into her tight jeans and pulled her mask off and wig back on.<br /><br />"Come in..." she called, now back in her Sonata disguise, more or less. <br /><br />"Sorry ma'am, but I knew you might need some extra help with your baggage."<br /><br />"No, no, it's quite all right." The bellman loaded the suitcase and the garment bags onto his cart. and held the door open. Melody hesitated.<br /><br />"Could you take all that downstairs for me? I have a friend I'm waiting on before I go down." She peeled off a ten dollar bill and smiled. The bellman nodded and headed down the hall, but Melody's keen ears could hear Helder stepping off the elevator at the same time.<br /><br />Helder was practically shouting as he came into Melody's suite. "My God! Did you HAVE to call the bellman? That was close! Did he see anything? Where is it? Where is she?"<br /><br />"Calm down, Helder, darling. She's fine, though at the moment in less than mint condition."<br /><br />"You didn't hurt her did you? My God, she's one of a kind! I can't replace her!"<br /><br />Melody pouted. "I thought I was the Owl you desired."<br /><br />"What? Oh yes of course! But we're running a big risk here. Where do you have her?"<br /><br />Melody's eyes twinkled. "She's in the sarcophagus, just like you said. And that's in the bathroom."<br /><br />"THE BATHROOM!" Helder's temper finally snapped. "In a Space Sarcophagus prop from GALAXY QUEST? That's a priceless relic! It can't be replaced any easier than its cargo. And it CAN'T get wet."<br /><br />Melody had heard enough. She came from the wheelchair to her feet and slammed Helder into the wall. The great man dangled with his feet several inches about the soft carpet. His eyes bugged out and he clawed at Dark Owl's arm, trying to break her grip on his throat.<br /><br />"Not so fast, Quentin darling. You've been telling me all month how special I am to you. Imagine my surprise when I find out I'm less special than a mere prop or some other bitch. You're treading on very thin ice, and I think my value to this operation just increased. After all, how ELSE are you going to get this case down?<br /><br />Helder squirmed in Dark Owl's grasp and nodded agreement. "All right--double." She relaxed her grip and the collector dropped to the floor. He got to his feet, rubbing his throat.<br /><br />"Now where is this truck of yours?" asked Dark Owl, still glaring at him.<br /><br />"Its directly below your patio, I think," he groaned. "I have a route worked out that will keep us from most of the prying eyes and..." While Helder was speaking Dark Owl went to the bathroom and brought out the sarcophagus. She slid open the patio door.</div><div><br />“Large tractor trailer? Red cab Peterbilt?” she asked, hefting the Space Sarcophagus onto her shoulder.</div><div><br />“Yes, that's it,” said Helder. “We'll bring her down the service elevator and HEY!!” </div><div> </div><div>Dark Owl leaped over the rail holding the sarcophagus and dropped the twelve floors to street level. She shoved the case into the back of the truck and waved back up at Helder.</div><div><br />In her room, Helder caught his breath and mopped his head. He threw the towel onto the sofa and retreated to the elevator. Fifteen minutes later, he'd joined Dark Owl in the cab of his truck.<br />“Don't ever do that again,” he scolded. </div><div> </div><div>Melody smiled coyly at Helder and fluttered her eyes beneath her black mask. “Why whatever do you mean?” she said.</div><div><br />“You know very well what I mean. If you'd damaged my latest acquisition...” his voice trailed off then came back strong, “And do you have to wear that damned mask?”</div><div><br />“I feel more like Dark Owl if I'm in costume,” she replied. “Besides, I thought you like how I look.”</div><div><br />Helder shifted gears, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He realized he wasn't going to win this one.</div><div><br />“Of course I do,” he said. “I'm just worried about the Queen City Police. They know what you look like and in costume you're likely to draw more attention than out.”</div><div><br />Melody considered this, then responded, “Maybe. But it's still late on Sunday night, and I don't think they're looking suspiciously at semis rolling out of town.” The truck crossed the Queensgate Bridge and into St Matthews. </div><div><br />“Aren't you going to the storage garage?” asked Dark Owl.</div><div><br />“No, I'm going straight to the mansion. I want to have White Owl on display by morning; even if it's only for our eyes.”</div><div><br />“I just love the way you say that, darling” purred Dark Owl.</div><div><br />Helder drove the truck into a deep bay, then killed the engine. “Be a dear Melody and carefully bring White Owl and the case to my private collection area? I'll go on ahead and unlock everything. He slipped from the cab and into the house.</div><div><br />Dark Owl climbed down from the cab, and opened the back. The Space Sarcophagus was still upright, where she'd secured it to the trailer. She undid the ties, then rocked the sarcophagus, smiling at the thudding sounds she heard from inside. She hefted it onto her shoulder again, and carried her burden into the house. Melody rode a secret elevator to the special collection area, where Helder kept his most valuable treasures on display for no one but himself.</div><div><br />“Over here dear,” he said, motioning Melody to a large display case. Inside the case a chair was bolted to the floor. Behind it was an open shadow box, with pegs and spaces for various parts of White Owl's costume.</div><div><br />Melody set the case on the floor and with a delicate touch sprung the box open. White Owl stayed sleeping, though the meters on the mask indicated she was running out of sedative. “Better make it quick, Helder,” she muttered, as she rapidly untied her hated foe.</div><div><br />Helder nodded, and began by pulling White Owl's boots from her feet. “Hmm,” he said. “Pantyhose, but of a material different than nylon. Smoother, but stronger.” </div><div><br />Above him, Dark Owl was being less delicate with White Owl's gloves. “Gently gently!!” cried Helder. “This whole outfit is a museum piece now!” Dark Owl harrumphed but was more cautious. </div><div><br />Moments later, White Owl was left in nothing but her panties and bra, though her mask stayed stubbornly affixed. The slumbering superheroine stirred and Melody sprang to action, She grabbed White Owl and placed the rousing heroine into the chair in the display case. Heavy clamps clutched White Owl's wrists and ankles, binding the helpless woman to the chair. Melody jumped out and smiled.</div><div><br />“She looks pretty good, doesn't she Helder?”</div><div><br />“She'd look even better as a matched set,” he replied.</div><div><br />Melody whirled. “What do you mean by that?”</div><div><br />Her answer was four heavy tranquilizer darts in her lower limbs. Melody staggered forward, but not possessing White Owl's healing factor, she quickly dropped to her knees and pitched onto her face.<br /></div><div>“Yes,” said Helder. A pair of Owls for my collection.<br />To be continued.<br /></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-11102230406588915262010-02-05T13:47:00.002-05:002010-02-05T16:18:27.208-05:00Old Friends Part 3<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlcvs4NKFy27DlaXhZVwNDe8upL9vbmEwOH4bvkQAlPIVrlwXxzndsFKy0mUYYVuZ9MY6BPABppzrj4d1VuUwyYwYjt003SKNBv_x_7gtoR7-7IqxN2N7bYZlET5a_qHrTgH7vJF8470N/s1600-h/conned.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 329px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434833284365732754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlcvs4NKFy27DlaXhZVwNDe8upL9vbmEwOH4bvkQAlPIVrlwXxzndsFKy0mUYYVuZ9MY6BPABppzrj4d1VuUwyYwYjt003SKNBv_x_7gtoR7-7IqxN2N7bYZlET5a_qHrTgH7vJF8470N/s400/conned.jpg" /></a> Don't get the idea I was absorbed exclusively with my jobs (both as Athena and as White Owl) without any preparation for the convention. I had also done some homework regarding the collectors. Maybe it wasn't as creepy as I had thought.<br /><br />Basically, superhero collectors fell into two categories. Most were into collecting clippings, photos and small items associated with their hero or heroine. Normal enough. The others were the ones with big money invested in the hobby, and those who could afford to pay top dollar for the truly unique items.<br /><br />I'd made a compromise with Josh to bring something special for the silent auction, something that would bring in more money for the charity, and was uniquely White Owl's. I thought long and hard about what it would be.<br /><br />I knew it had to be exclusive, but also had to keep my secrets and (at least I felt) it couldn't be too kinky or weird. But what? One of Black Ibis' <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">shuriken</span> crossed my eye. Interesting but deadly. One of my costumes? But could someone retro engineer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">NuSilk</span>? What would Mr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wickersham</span> say? One of the Buffoon's rubber chickens? Though he was a villain of a lot of heroes and heroines. Finally, I decided.<br /><br />Early Friday afternoon, with a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">shirt box</span> tucked under my arm, I flew into the con suite at the New Century hotel. The young men in the room gaped as I slipped in through the patio on the fifth floor. I smiled and looked at them all. "Good afternoon gentlemen! I thought you might want something special for the charity silent auction. I have something that may cause a big draw." I opened the box and pulled out a long gray cape with golden clasps and a gold chain. My formal cape.<br /><br />The young men at the table oohed, stood as one. One of them brushed a thick set of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">blond</span> bangs out of his eyes and stepped toward me. "WOW! White Owl! I'm honored." He fingered the fine fabric of my cape, gushing.<br /><br />He stuck out a hand. "My name is Brian. This is Alex and Ned." he motioned to his comrades. <br />We're the convention committee. This older gentleman, is Quentin <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>." I smiled broadly, recognizing the name. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> was better known to Captain Valiant and me as the Gentleman Bandit.<br /><br />"Mr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>," I said. "One of a large number of well-heeled collectors. I've been told you're right up there with Dr Adam North, or Virgil Coleman or Peter Stein. I'm surprised to find you here. This is only Queen City's first <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supercon</span>."<br /><br />"I'm pleased you've heard of me White Owl, and I'm afraid you have me wrong. I'm not here as a collector, I'm here to deal. Though seeing this..." he motioned to my cape, "might change my mind a little. I hope I'm allowed to bid?" <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> looked to Brian who nodded. <br /><br />"Are you going to put in some time here tonight White Owl?" asked Brian.<br /><br />"I'm afraid I can't Brian," I replied. "I have to patrol tonight. I understand there may be a lot of criminals in the convention, though."<br /><br />Brian laughed. "Yeah we decided to do a costume contest tonight, with the finals tomorrow night. We were hoping to get a bigger crowd to the con on Friday, to generate more word of mouth for Saturday. The idea is to blow away the backers with a huge opening and to continue the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supercon</span> for years to come as a marquee event!"<br /><br />"Well I think you're off to a good start," I said. "I think you'll be pleased with your results. By the way. Is this the best place to come tomorrow--this suite I mean?"<br /><br />Brian nodded. "Yes ma'am!" He blushed. "I mean we'll get you to your event area from here, without a lot of people in between. If you'll be here by four, I think we can get you down to your panel in plenty of time."<br /><br />I smiled. "I think I should tell you, I am more worried about this, than I am facing Doctor Solar and his heat guns." I turned back to the balcony, and waved. "Ta ta for now, I'll see you tomorrow!"<br /><br />I flew into the gathering twilight, then headed north to Police Headquarters. Inside Captain Winslow's office I accepted a warm cup of police coffee (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">yuch</span>) and told him what I had seen.<br /><br />"I'd like to help you White Owl, but there's noting on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>. No warrants outstanding, no evidence to back up anything. The Feds, the Guild and a lot of local agencies have had their eye on him for some time, but there's no evidence of any sort to put him away."<br /><br />"So even though we're certain he's the Gentleman Bandit..." I began.<br /><br />"We can't touch him," finished Winslow. "Aside from his being seen within 24 hours at every location the Bandit has ever struck, there's nothing to connect him to any crimes. And even repeated warrants at his home, his office and his warehouses have failed to turn up anything. He's good I'll grant you that. You want my advice? Keep away from him."<br /><br />I wasn't thrilled with that answer, still I decided discretion was the better part of valor here. I swung back to my apartment and grabbed my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">duffel</span> bag, then flew downtown toward the New Century. Finding a convenient alleyway, I landed behind a dumpster and slipped into tight jeans and a denim jacket. I applied the solvent that let me take off my mask and slipped it into the secret compartment of my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">duffel</span> along with my gloves. Then I put on my reading glasses and joined the crowd at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supercon</span>.<br /><br />I walked along the dealer's section, looking carefully for a lot of artifacts, and found a capsule of Catnap--guaranteed to have come from the Pink Pussycat. With a wry smile, I purchased it for Virgil, though I was certain he had several. I drew closer to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder's</span> area of the floor and saw the man himself doing brisk business. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> had been collecting for some time, and I was delighted to see a bell shaped belt buckle and a star spangled skirt. <br /><br />"Are these authentic?" I asked.<br /><br />"Yes ma'am," replied <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span>. "The belt buckle came from Freedom's Ring, Queen City's first superhero. When he retired, I bought up as much of his equipment as I could. And that skirt looks like it could fit you."<br /><br />I blushed. "I'm not going to try it on here, but was I right in thinking it came from his daughter <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Patriette's</span> costume?"<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> looked at me with an openly astonished look. "Seems to me you know your hero history. Yes, that's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Patriette's</span> skirt, but not the one she wore in action. She didn't like the look the government gave her, so she went out and built her own costume. Given the unique nature of these two items, I would say--how about $2000?"<br /><br />I looked H<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">elder</span> in the eye. "Considering the belt buckle has a "made in China" mark well hidden in the back, and the skirt is made out of spandex, which came out well AFTER <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">Patriette</span> retired, I'd say how about $50?"<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> sputtered. "Why that's ...that's ..."<br /><br />"Completely knowledgeable. I pointed out the mark, and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> drooped.<br /><br />"All right, you made your point. But could you go to $75, to help a poor old man?"<br /><br />I smiled. "I doubt you're that poor, but for the sake of fairness, all right." I haded him 4 twenties and waited as he bagged my purchases and gave me my change.<br /><br />"You're quite shrewd," he said. "Been collecting long?"<br /><br />"No, but my boyfriend has; and he told me what to watch for.' I thanked him and went swaying off.<br /><br />For some reason, Friday night was quiet on the crime front and I was able to get some much needed sleep, as well as work on my program. I spent the morning editing my speech and working on a grant for a dig in Malta, then made sure everything was ready. I left the apartment about one, heading to Mr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wickersham's</span> shop to get my new uniform. He fussed a bit, made sure everything fit right, then stepped back admiringly.<br /><br />"Best job I ever saw," he said with his warm Scots burr. I smiled and thanked him, then spread my arms and flew. It was a chilly day, but sunny, and I took a lap over the water, then back along Main to see the city one more time. I drifted east to the New Century, and found the fifth floor balcony I'd landed at the day before. Across the way, I could hear the bells of St Simon's Cathedral chiming four.<br /><br />I knocked on the door and was ready when Brian slid it open. He stood in place a little too long and I said, "May I come in? It is a bit chilly here."<br /><br />Brian's apologies tumbled out of his mouth and he stood aside, ushering me in. I slipped out of my white jacket and draped it over an easy chair in the suite. "Can I get you anything White Owl?" asked an eager Brian. <br /><br />My instincts said no, but I was thirsty. "Do you have a diet <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Zesti</span>?" I asked. Brian went into the kitchenette and returned with an unopened bottle and a glass of ice. I poured the fizzy cola and sipped, feeling the warmth returning to my body as well. <br /><br />"Gosh, you're even prettier than yesterday," said Brian, in an attempt to make small talk.<br /><br />"Thank you," I said. "But I think it's just the new costume. I didn't have time to get the other one cleaned first." We sat and made a few minutes of small talk, then Alex and Ned came into the room too. <br /><br />"Hey man, no hogging the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">GOH</span>!" said Ned.<br /><br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">GOH</span>?" I asked.<br /><br />"The Guest of Honor," replied Alex. "That's you."<br /><br />I smiled and looked at the wall clock. "We still have forty minutes," I began.<br /><br />"We'll need all that to get you into the room," said Ned. "It's a sellout crowd, just on the appearance. Five hundred people in that room, at $10 a ticket. That's $5000 for Children's Hospital's Burn unit. And the silent auction will end while you're doing your bit too. Would you care to announce the totals?"<br /><br />"I'd be delighted," I said.<br /><br />"Then let's go," said Brian. He opened the door to the Con Suite, and I followed him into the hallway. <br /><br />"The Hospitality suit is on the Third Floor," offered Alex. That's where most of the crowd thinks you'll be. But we're going to go down the service elevator and bring you through the kitchen. I nodded gamely and followed along. We reached the panel room with no trouble.<br /><br />Alex told me to wait, then went out onto the platform. "WE WANT WHITE OWL! WE WANT WHITE OWL!!" I heard the crowd chanting.<br /><br />"Hey you all," said Alex. "I want to thank you all form coming to the first and I hope ANNUAL Queen City <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supercon</span>. My name is Alex, I'm part of the con committee. You've been well behaved and I just want to say how much I appreciate it. The fire m<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">arshal</span> has asked me to tell you that in case of an emergency, please exit in a quiet and orderly manner through the exits located at the back, and to the right and left of the stage.<br /><br />"And now, put your hands together for Queen City's own High Flying Heroine...Ladies and Gentlemen, WHITE OWL!!!" The room erupted in cheers and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">applause</span> as I sheepishly made my way to the podium.<br /><br />"Hi," I said. "I can tell you I'd rather be facing down Dr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-error">Solar's</span> heat cannons right now!"<br />The audience laughed. <br /><br />"Seriously, I'm astonished you came here to hear me speak," I said. "I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">haven't</span>' got much to say; all that vaunted wisdom has just plain gone out of my head." Having made a brave beginning, though, I continued for ten minutes then opened it up to questions.<br /><br />"Are you and Captain Valiant...intimate?"(from a young man dressed in a Star Wars outfit)<br />"How did you get your powers?"(from a small girl in the front row)<br />"Why do you dress so provocatively?" (this came from an older woman in the back--she was dressed in a tight version of Captain <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error">Valiant's</span> costume.)<br />"Do you like getting tied up?" from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error">Helder</span> of all people.<br /><br />I answered all these questions and more (honestly, I have no clue who's going to win the Superbowl; yes Athena is scary when you first meet her--the word awesome means terrible as well; yes I have regrets,) and the hour flew by. I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">almost</span> didn't realize it until Brian came up and whispered in my ear.<br /><br />"I'm sorry folks but there's no more time for questions. I'll be available in the hall in 15 minutes to sign autographs. But before I go, I want to thank you all for coming, and for supporting the Children's Hospital Burns Unit. This event raised $5000 and the auction raised another $10000. The winner of my cape was Sonata Justice. Her bid says she's my biggest fan too! Is she here?" No one raised a hand and I spotted a room number on the winning bid. I decided to take it to her after I finished signing.<br /><br />another hour later, my arm stiff from remembering to sign, "White Owl" and not "Athena" and I sat back. The people in line were polite, and I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">received</span> some interesting comments from "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ummm</span>....hi" to "Thank you for all you do in protecting us." I was flattered by all the attention but I could see what both Josh and Virgil were trying to tell me about giving back.<br /><br />I bid a farewell to Brian, Ned and Alex, and informed them I'd deliver the cape to Sonata, since she wasn't at the speech. "No need," said Brian. "I took care of it while you were signing." <br /><br />"Oh," I said, a little crestfallen. Still it was for the best I assumed. I flew out of the con suite and out into the night air. My jacket was warm, and I felt a glow of satisfaction. But I felt I had left one task undone. I returned to the New Century, and landed on the roof. Sonata's bid had her on the twelfth floor, directly below me, and I wanted to thank her personally. I entered the roof access and walked down one flight onto the floor.<br /><br />Room 1210 was right next to the emergency access, and I knocked hesitantly on the door. "Who is it?" came a soft feminine voice.<br /><br />"It's White Owl Ms Justice," I said. "I'd like to talk with you if I may."<br /><br />The door opened and I saw a young woman in a wheelchair looking up at me, her face full of wonder. "White Owl?" she said. She was in her twenties, with dark hair and glasses.<br /><br />"Hi, are you Sonata?" The young lady nodded and motioned me in.<br /><br />I came into the room and sat on the sofa. "I won't stay long, I promise. But I wanted to thank you for buying the cape and for making a difference to the Children's Hospital. And if you'd like, I'll pose for a personal picture with you."<br /><br />"Oh my yes!" she said. "Let me get you something to drink, then I'll get my camera. What will you have?"<br /><br />"Oh I couldn't"<br /><br />"I insist."<br /><br />"All right then. A glass of ice and a diet <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error">Zesti</span>?" Sonata smiled as if she'd been expecting this and disappeared for a moment into the bedroom. <br /><br />"I never travel without the soda," she said. "Its so much cheaper than buying it from the hotel." She popped the can and poured with calm hands. She held out the glass and I took it, taking a deep swig of the sweet cola.<br /><br />"Now I'm your number one fan," said Sonata, and yet as she spoke, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">felt</span> the room waver.<br /><br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wha</span>...what have you done to the soda?" I said, staggering to my feet.<br /><br />"To the soda? Nothing. The ICE however, has a strong sedative in it my dear White Owl."<br /><br />The room began spinning and I saw Sonata step out of her wheelchair. "You were always so trusting my dear," she said, pulling the wig from her head and revealing curly red locks. "<br /><br />"M--Mel--Melody?!" I croaked, my throat closing up and my head pounding.<br /><br />"That's right White Owl. And soon, I'll be the only Owl left in Queen City." I didn't hear the last threats though, as I was slumped unconscious on the couch....<br /><br />to be continuedAthenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-79076417952001620112010-01-25T20:03:00.002-05:002010-01-25T22:12:06.999-05:00Old Friends Part 2<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5myZy9rM-TWMHzW9M11toiETuVi61fkS_IFwt15cX9kG11hQORgFeoXqne2Fhl6L1IdV4yd2X6tG3cbLge5IrqV0BQxLbh3-n16VYP5AYE6qAdhYLyNhw9HolWXnYjJhopijAJ82VDx1F/s1600-h/Con+Photo.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 319px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430848415672868242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5myZy9rM-TWMHzW9M11toiETuVi61fkS_IFwt15cX9kG11hQORgFeoXqne2Fhl6L1IdV4yd2X6tG3cbLge5IrqV0BQxLbh3-n16VYP5AYE6qAdhYLyNhw9HolWXnYjJhopijAJ82VDx1F/s400/Con+Photo.jpg" /></a><br />"First time?" asked the young girl in the tight silver <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scirocco</span> costume. I smiled at her and nodded. <br /><br />"I thought so," she said, tossing off a healthy laugh. "My name is Miranda. If you don't mind my saying though, you seem a bit old for a costume player."<br /><br />"Well," I stammered. "I'm Athena. I've always been fascinated by superheroes; but more on the fringe of my mind. But then one showed up in my home town recently and..."<br /><br />"You're from Queen City?" she asked. I nodded.<br /><br />"You have a good start on a White Owl costume," she said. "But the judges will look for detail and flash. How well do PORTRAY her? What little details are you missing?"<br /><br />"What do you mean," I asked, suddenly self conscious that someone was studying me that intently. She stepped back a moment and and spread her arms. <br /><br />"Look here," she said. "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scirocco</span> is dazzling and fast. Its hard to get all the details of her costume right? But I've captured the silvery spandex, the little speed lines, and and here..." She pointed to her belt. "Most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">cosplayers</span> show this as a solid blue band. But <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scirocco</span> has a sense of humor. As you see its a lightning bolt--or a..."<br /><br />"A blue streak," I finished. I remembered <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scirocco</span> mentioning it to me when she mentored me during monitor duty. It was indeed a small detail, and I was impressed that this young woman had picked up on it. I found myself wishing some of the grad students I worked with on digs were as meticulous.<br /><br />"Now take your costume," she continued. "White Owl has this all white leotard, like yours. But it's bulletproof. Yours is made of some silky fiber, so its not all that authentic. And I think you could have done more with your hair, to make it look like hers. But still its a fantastic start."<br /><br />Miranda spotted another <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">friend</span> and said, "See you at the contest, Athena!" I smiled and waved as well. Two older teenage boys spotted me and said, "Smile White Owl!" I struck a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">tae</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">kwon</span> do pose and smiled. They laughed and shot a snapshot.<br /><br />I was feeling excited. I hadn't realized looking like...well me...could be so different. I mean, I AM White Owl. And I am Athena too. But usually in this costume, well, Athena was left behind--it was almost like another aspect of myself jumped out. But it felt weird to be Athena and in costume.<br /><br />I almost missed Virgil's show, but I stood in the background and listened to his talk. It was solid, gracious, warm and heartfelt. Virgil...Captain Valiant, was well received but the crowd was respectful. He posed for a picture or two on stage, then signed autographs for a long time. I saw the autograph rules... No more than two items, no <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">personalizations</span>, no skin. Seemed to make perfect sense to me. I paid the extra $10 and slipped into line. We moves swiftly forward and fifteen minutes later, I saw Virgil look up at me.<br /><br />"Hi! Can I get a photo?" I asked. "I understand we're an item." I dangled a digital camera and smiled.<br /><br />"I'm sorry ma'am but I can't. White Owl is a very jealous woman, as I'm sure you've heard." He took my photo and signed in a strong hand, "Heroically yours, Captain Valiant." I smiled and thanked him then made my way to the main ballroom for the costume contest.<br /><br />What a sea of heroes villains and other assorted people there were in that room! I spotted at least ten White Owls, not counting myself, a few <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sciroccos</span> (Miranda's was the best costume) Pink Pussycats, Frosty <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Freds</span>, Buffoons, and in the strangest twist, men and women dressed in some very stylish (and revealing) versions of Captain <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Valiant's</span> outfit. The MC was funny and the judges tried hard to keep the contest moving. Several of the costumed people had acts and moves that coincided with their costumes. I looked up and down the line, and spotted one White Owl with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">blond</span> hair, another with curly reddish hair. The woman with the curls looked familiar, then I placed her as having been at the dinner club the previous night with the Gentleman Bandit.<br /><br />I kept my eye on her through the contest. She was several places ahead of me, and when she got on stage she announced, "I am White Owl, the worst heroine in the Guild. I get captured and have to wait for someone to get me free...and no one really likes me. Captain Valiant just thinks I'm easy." The voice and cadence were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Midwestern</span> and I suddenly realized...<br /><br />"Melody!" I shouted, before I could stop myself. The girl on stage stopped and looked in my direction. She shrieked when she saw me then flung herself off stage, running out of the ballroom. I took off after her, at a sprint; but by the time I got to the door, she had been swallowed up in a heavy convention crowd.<br /><br />I stayed away from the contest after that. I didn't want anyone to identify me, or to give away my identity. Later that night, back in his penthouse, I told Virgil what had happened.<br /><br />"Are you sure it was Melody?" he asked, concern in his voice.<br /><br />"Absolutely," I said. "Every gesture, every nuance in her voice screamed Melody to me. I'm afraid I gave myself away by calling her name."<br /><br />"But did she see your id tag? Or anything like that?"<br /><br />I shook my head. "I don't think so. I didn't spot her until we were in line at the contest, and she was several places ahead of me." I pummeled my forehead with my knuckles. "I should have realized last night, but her carriage was so different."<br /><br />"Don't go there Athena," he said. "Remember, there is no such thing as 'what might have been.'"<br /><br />I smiled at him. "I know. And thanks."<br /><br />"Care to patrol with me tonight?" he asked.<br /><br />"I don't think I should. I already have Melody suspecting I'm in town. It wouldn't do to confirm her suspicions. I'll just stay here with Sterling, if you don't mind."<br /><br />Virgil nodded and a moment later he was gone. Sterling and I sat together in the study, playing chess and talking. Sterling was good at both.<br /><br />The next morning, Virgil drove me to the airport, and saw me to the security area where we said our goodbyes. "Don't be surprised if I show up next weekend, <em><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">cara</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">mia</span></em>," said Virgil. "Now that you know my deep dark secret, I can browse the Queen City <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Supercon</span> for more collectibles. I got a really good deal on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Techno's</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">hoverdisk</span>. Maybe I can get his Visor next."<br /><br />"That's not funny!" I said. I kissed him and went through security, with no problems. I boarded my plane and flew west, depressed and concerned. But the flight was uneventful and Daisy was glad to see me when I walked through the door. She chased me to the kitchen, and I put down a can of food for her. She took two bites and purred, then rubbed my legs in gratitude.<br /><br />Monday found me back at the museum, and to the surprise of Director <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Chatterjee</span>, I stayed all week, even volunteering to help with the class from the Riverside Academy. The week went fast, and crime seemed to be standing still. I couldn't find any word about Melody. All the chatter in the streets dealt more with the Buffoon or the Glow Worm. <br /><br />On Tuesday, I met with Josh briefly, and accepted the invitation. Or in his terminology, confirmed my appearance. By Thursday I was exhausted and dropped into bed early, wondering if Virgil was going to come. The answer to that was found Friday morning in an e-mail.<br /><br />"Athena. I have had an unexpected <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">business</span> matter come up and will be unable to attend. I'm sure you'll wow the crowd, and it will be out of this world. Call me Monday or Tuesday and let me know how it went. Virgil"<br /><br />I guessed (then confirmed with the Guild) that Captain Valiant was off planet for the weekend. I steeled my nerve and prayed for the best.<br /><br />(to be continued)Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-83958953968514377462010-01-14T21:22:00.005-05:002010-01-14T23:23:28.656-05:00White Owl: Old Friends and New<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvERdFO11miUlNKitKfkSIqUrHVZsjPGjoNRx4zbA9_TmnUcnCFwKWOemOZYvl6hHEb0Ga5w5l5Zkob8gM6B9kRyLWRmc08wUw5PRa1IqBKgy4U5M9U73hBqh9-LPD0HPLiFWPlDMsjsz/s1600-h/old+friends+100.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 311px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426788403637685938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvERdFO11miUlNKitKfkSIqUrHVZsjPGjoNRx4zbA9_TmnUcnCFwKWOemOZYvl6hHEb0Ga5w5l5Zkob8gM6B9kRyLWRmc08wUw5PRa1IqBKgy4U5M9U73hBqh9-LPD0HPLiFWPlDMsjsz/s400/old+friends+100.jpg" /></a><br /><div>"C'mon White Owl," said Josh Bailey, my new publicist. "Its about your image; your brand recognition. You're hot among that demographic, and you really should go and show your appreciation..."</div><div> </div><div>I cut him off there. Josh was everything Melody had been and more. Good looking, efficient, and hard working. But he also had a close circle of friends away from work and a slightly jaded way of looking at the world.</div><div> </div><div>"Look," I said. "I'm a crime fighter, not a rock star. I don't do endorsements, or open trade shows, or pose for posters, or give media interviews. So why would I do an appearance at the Queen City Supercon?"</div><div> </div><div>"Because that's your biggest group of fans. Even the police have mixed opinions of you. These people ADORE you. Don't you think you deserve a little positive feedback after all you give? And it's not like you don't do public appearances at all. What about the Children's Hospital Telethon last year?"</div><div> </div><div>I sighed, trying to hide the sorrow of that night. "That was for Charity, Josh," I said. I squeezed my left arm, unconsciously, remembering the terror as Melody broke it that night.</div><div> </div><div>"But that's the best part White Owl," Josh gestured wildly. "You'll be there! The Supercon can charge an extra admission for your appearance, and all of that money will go to the Burns Unit at Children's Hospital."</div><div> </div><div>At the mention of the Burn unit, I felt my final resistance crumbling. "What would I have to do?"</div><div> </div><div>Josh beamed with victory in his eyes. "Fly in, pose for pictures with fans, sign a few autographs, answer a few questions. Maybe ninety minutes of your life, and you're out."</div><div> </div><div>I held up a gloved hand. "That's all good, except for personal photos. I want all cameras and cell phones checked at the door. I can provide photos. I don't need someone trying to use a flash ray device to try and control my mind." </div><div> </div><div>"Lighten up, will you? We're not setting up a police state, White Owl. Security is already pretty tight at these things as it is, and you;ll be in a secure zone for your show. Haven't you ever gone to a comic book show?"</div><div> </div><div>"No," I replied tersely. "It seems a bit--well geeky--to me. And I can't see anyone else in the Guild being caught at one."</div><div> </div><div>"Are you KIDDING?" asked Josh. "Yes its a big Geek Show. But it's also fun! You'll see people dressed like Valiant, Danger Woman, and all the rest of you. As for the Guild, well, Danger Woman is a regular at the Supercon in Atlanta, and Captain Valiant will be making an appearance at EmpireCon this weekend.</div><div> </div><div>My eyes widened. "Oh really?"</div><div> </div><div>"Oh yeah, and the audiences LOVE them." Josh looked at his Rolex. "Wow! I need to get back to the office. Look, I don't have to know today; so you still have time to decide. Get back to me by say--Wednesday next week?" Josh stood up and extended his hand. I shook it and thanked him, then headed out into the sunshine of a Queen City January.</div><div> </div><div>I flew home thinking Josh may have been right. Had I been shunning the people I protected? I had felt that I needed to be aloof, as an additional way to keep the citizens safe. In some ways I felt announcing my appearances was to paint a big target on the venue--in this case the Expo Center. It was a tough decision, so as I landed and got inside, I called Virgil for his take.</div><div> </div><div>"Tell you what, Athena," he said. "Why don't you come out Friday and spend the weekend with me? You can be my guest at EmpireCon."</div><div> </div><div>"As White Owl? Don't be silly--I wouldn't want to steal your thunder."</div><div> </div><div>"No, as Athena and Virgil. When you get here Friday, I'll have to let you in on a deep dark secret of my dual identity. Only the Butler knows about it--so I'll have to swear you to secrecy."</div><div> </div><div>"My word of honor Mr. Coleman. How does one dress for a Supercon?"</div><div> </div><div>"Well if it's your first one, jeans, tee shirt and comfortable shoes. You don't have to look too nerdy. Unless you WANT to do the costume competition."</div><div> </div><div>"That sounds like it might be fun!" I said. I wonder if I could pull off White Owl?"</div><div> </div><div>"We'll see," laughed Virgil. "See you Friday."</div><div> </div><div>Friday morning, I flew out of Queen City and landed two hours later in Empire. Virgil met me at the terminal and whisked me to his Porsche. We dined at the Coleman foundation, and took the elevator to the Penthouse on top of the building. </div><div> </div><div>"Stirling! I'm home. And I've brought company." A slender but well-toned man in a butler's uniform stepped from the hallway and smiled. </div><div> </div><div>"It's delightful to see you again, Ms Nikos," said Stirling. He stroked his mustache and harrumphed at Virgil. Taking my weekend case, he said. "I've put you in the green bedroom, Ms Nikos. As you recall..."</div><div> </div><div>"It has a communicating door, with mine," finished Virgil. "You really shouldn't have, Stirling."</div><div> </div><div>"But you're always so glad I did, sir." </div><div> </div><div>I smiled at the two of them. Stirling knew his master's secret, and was pretty certain of mine. Not that I was worried, he was as loyal as the day was long. I followed Stirling to the green room and watched as he carefully unpacked my bag. "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"</div><div> </div><div>"No thank you Stirling. I have work to do tonight."</div><div> </div><div>"I hope not," said Virgil. "Because I had an evening of dining and dancing planned."</div><div> </div><div>"But it's a grant proposal for a dig this summer," I protested. "I need to get it in."</div><div> </div><div>"The Coleman Foundation will underwrite you, never fear." he said. "I have a little pull with the board."</div><div> </div><div>I melted in his arms again. "All right, you win."</div><div> </div><div>We spent Friday night in an exclusive restaurant, and I was amazed by the powerful men and women, on both sides of the law, who were in attendance. After he led me to the dance floor I hissed, "Is this a working dinner?"</div><div> </div><div>"Yes, to an extent," said Virgil. He nodded over my shoulder, then spun me gently. I gasped when I saw the Gentleman Bandit dancing elegantly (how else?) with a woman with long rusty hair. She seemed familiar somehow, but I couldn't place her.</div><div> </div><div>"The Bandit has a new trick," said Virgil. "He's been seen at several recent crime scenes with a woman no one can remember." Usually, he's seen the night before. But the crimes bear his hallmarks, without any other evidence of his being there."</div><div> </div><div>"That woman? Is she?" </div><div> </div><div>"Yes, she seems to be his latest moll. I haven't seen her up close yet. And no one in the Guild seems to know her. I think she's someone new on the scene. And probably nothing to worry about."</div><div> </div><div>We spent the rest of the night dancing, then upon arrival at the Coleman Foundation, Stirling showed me to my room with the bed already turned down. I smiled at him and found out the communicating doors still worked. I felt bad to not take advantage of Stirling's handiwork, but Virgil's handiwork was every bit as good.</div><div> </div><div>Saturday morning broke, and I slept in; rising to the scent of pecan waffles and bacon from the kitchen, along with the heady scent of Virgil's special coffee blend. I slipped beck into my room, and threw my robe around me, cinching it tightly. I padded into the kitchen and found Stirling, with an apron over his suit making breakfast.</div><div> </div><div>"Good morning, Ms Nikos," he said, smiling. "Master Virgil will be in shortly. He had to handle a small crisis this morning." He nodded to the television and I could see a live feed of Captain Valiant bringing in a 767 jet to the DC airport. I heard the announcer say that the plane's landing gear would not descend and that the engines were out. Captain Valiant brought the entire flight down safely and gently.</div><div> </div><div>"What a man," I muttered softly.</div><div> </div><div>"Why thank you," I heard Virgil say, moments before I felt his soft lips on my neck. "But for which of my performances are you thanking me?"</div><div> </div><div>I stopped and gaped at him. Virgil was dressed in a sweatshirt of the Fantastic Four, jeans and loafers. "Eat up," he said. "I still have the deep secret to share before we go."</div><div> </div><div>Stirling's eyes rolled. "This is the secret that generally determines whether a woman stays or goes in Master Virgil's life," he confided.</div><div> </div><div>I ate my waffles, intrigued. For most women, learning they loved a superhero would be the deepest darkest secret. So I really wanted to know. I stood up and took my coffee with me, following Virgil across the living room to a locked door. He held up a hand.</div><div> </div><div>"Sorry, no coffee or other liquids in this room. You'll understand in a minute." He waited while I set my coffee down on the coffee table. In the meantime, Virgil unlocked the door and flipped a switch. I saw a light come on over a stairwell.</div><div> </div><div>"Here, put these on," said Virgil handing me a pair of white cotton gloves. I followed him down the stairs to a dustless, near sterile environment. The room ran almost the entire length of the penthouse and all along three walls were shelves, lined with white cardboard boxes. The fourth wall had several frames. I stepped to the frames and found....</div><div> </div><div>COMIC BOOKS? I burst out laughing. "This is your deep dark secret?"</div><div> </div><div>Virgil looked a bit sheepish. "You don't think its a bit...geeky?"</div><div> </div><div>I held my finger and thumb about an inch apart. "Maybe a little. But I know how passionate people can get about a lot of things. You don't seem to mind my Gems collection, so how could I get upset about this?"</div><div> </div><div>"Good show sir, marry her immediately!" I heard Stirling say.</div><div> </div><div>"We'll see, Stirling," replied Virgil. He turned back to me. "Well since its well established I'm a super nerd, shall we proceed to the Supercon?"</div><div> </div><div>"Can you give me an hour?" I asked. "I need to shower and get dressed."</div><div> </div><div>Two hours later, we wandered into Empire's spacious convention center. My jaw dropped when I saw how many comics, figurines, toys and more littered the huckster's area. But then I saw something really chilling. The Artifact Tables....</div><div> </div><div>"Hey lady, you want a neuro dart from Quiver's crossbow? He shot it at the Golden Archer three weeks ago. Don't worry, the toxin's out."</div><div> </div><div>"One of the Buffoon's rubber chickens..."</div><div> </div><div>"I got pieces from Captain Valiant's costume here. Wrecker shredded it really well a few months ago."</div><div> </div><div>"Storm Front's gauntlets. They don't work without the generators, but he had enough power to nearly fry White Owl."</div><div> </div><div>"Virgil, did you see?" I asked, then stopped. Virgil was haggling with the vendor over the pieces of his costume. I walked away shaking my head. Virgil paid the vendor and came after me.</div><div> </div><div>"What's wrong?" he asked.</div><div> </div><div>"That's so...morbid," I replied. "Selling pieces of costumes, weapons and so forth. People got hurt with those things...<em>I</em> got hurt with those gauntlets. And people collect and trade them?"</div><div> </div><div>He put his arm around me. "Yes they do. In one way, its a way to honor us. In another, its a way of satisfying curiosity, or rooting for their favorites. By the way, White Owl is the most popular right now. Mainly because you don't LEAVE many artifacts."</div><div> </div><div>"Really?" I asked. Virgil nodded.</div><div> </div><div>We spent the day listening to artists, writers, buying comics (and I even got a few copies of Speed Comics, featuring the Black Cat) and enjoying ourselves. Deciding to spend the night, Virgil rented a room across the street in the Hyatt and we checked in long enough to dress for the night. Then we parted ways as Virgil was scheduled to make his appearance, and I wanted to enter the costume contest.</div><div> </div><div>(to be continued)</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-31170473232534196752010-01-11T20:43:00.001-05:002010-01-11T20:47:09.869-05:00Somnos' Revenge by Trekker1071<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVQOuqTIIdMe0KQOyATpKqPw27MEVevrtSBdYjdZJG26utj9Ih0xM22FjnUTcfvPJw4j5qrEiNj1Hq9S03KsHF3WKCxR_elO5FPyz8ZnVcsFvLlFjLTfGtf2SL2u4YAtDTQWUL1_DelzY/s1600-h/meadowbrook.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 338px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425663271202673794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVQOuqTIIdMe0KQOyATpKqPw27MEVevrtSBdYjdZJG26utj9Ih0xM22FjnUTcfvPJw4j5qrEiNj1Hq9S03KsHF3WKCxR_elO5FPyz8ZnVcsFvLlFjLTfGtf2SL2u4YAtDTQWUL1_DelzY/s400/meadowbrook.jpg" /></a><br /><div>(I apologize for the length of this story--but certainly not the quality. Thanks Trekker!!)</div><div> </div><div><br />May I see your passport, sir?" the TSA Agent asked. I handed it to him while my bag was being X-rayed. "Welcome to America, Mr. Lacombe." "Merci." I say to the man, accepting my passport and suitcase. Stepping outside the terminal, I hailed a cab and stepped inside. "Queen City Marriot." I said to the driver. She switched on the meter and pulled out of the airport.Queen City. I hate this town. Four years ago, I called it home. Back then I was called Somnos. I had a thriving hypnotherapy clinic, lots of high end clients and could charge whatever I wanted to help them quit smoking, get off drugs or help them recall past lives. One had even told me she was abducted by aliens and wanted my help in remembering her experience. That was the easiest $75,000 I ever made. Since she believed she had been abducted, I implanted some false memories and she was satisfied. The human mind was a mystery, her mind was beyond the ability of Sherlock Holmes to solve. I was living my dreams. Fast cars, faster women and money to burn on them. Yes, I will admit I was not the most ethical practitioner in the world. While my wealthy clients were in a trance, I placed a suggestion that they would donate to a clinic I was building in Europe. There was no clinic, of course. But I was thinking about it. And why shouldn't a businessman have discretionary funds to spend on a special project?And then came White Owl. Why she paid me a visit was something I never discovered. I assumed that one of my newer clients was a friend or relative of hers. I made the mistake of hypnotizing her, ordering her to kill a private investigator that was looking into my affairs. It wasn't until much later that I learned that White Owl did not kill. Her moral fiber was stronger than my conditioning. She freed herself, had me arrested after a totally illegal interrogation and extradited to my home country of France. There I was tried for killing my wife and sentenced to life in prison.But there was no way I would live in a cell till I died an old man. Using my hypnotic abilities, I convinced the prison doctor and one of my guards that I was terminally ill. It took 3 years of waiting and arranging things on the outside to make my move. When the guards found me, apparently unconscious, in my cell, I was taken to the prison infirmary. There, I activated the doctor's post hypnotic suggestion. As I lay comfortably, he called the warden and announced me dead.I smiled as he filled out the forms that made my death official. As soon as he was finished, I broke his neck, killing him instantly. I took the clothes from his body, they were a little large on me, but his buff colored toggle coat covered up the excess cloth well. I placed his corpse in the body bag, placed my toe tag on his big toe and zipped it up. By the time the coroner discovered the murder, I'd be out of the country, courtesy of his cash and credit cards. Although the card use was easily tracked, I'd use them for two or three days at most, then use the cash till it was exhausted. But I had some hidden bank accounts that held sizable amounts of untraceable hard currency. Once those accounts were accessed, then I could go anywhere safely.<br /><a name="3_messageHeaderSubject_dots"></a>A few hours later, I was on a train heading for LeHavre. I knew a friend who owned a small shipping company. He could sneak me into one of his ships and get me to Spain in a few days. From there I had a few choices and a few favors to call in. I had never been aboard a freighter before and swore I would never do so again. It stank like rotten seafood, the food was dreadful, the crew surly and mistrustful of me. At least the French prison served decent meals. I wouldn't have given the swill the freighter cook served to a dying dog. But still, it was free and I was free from prison, if I were careful, I could get to America and start setting some plans in motion. But I had some changes to make, it would take time, but that was fine. The longer a search went on, the less motivated the searchers became. I planned on using that apathy against them.Four months later, I left a clinic in Borgos, Spain with a new face and identity. It gave me a shock to look into a mirror and see a stranger's face. But I was a wanted man with a large reward for my capture. If recaptured, I would be executed for sure. Yes, with ever passing day, my trail grew colder, but with my old face on databases all over Europe, why take a chance?I moved cautiously, accessing the hidden bank accounts set up years earlier. I began purchasing some electronic equipment. While in prison, I came up with a device that worked the same way as the white noise I used in my office. The difference is that instead of sound, it used specific light frequencies that would cause mental confusion and would leave the viewer very open to suggestion. The great thing about the device, that I called the Mesmer, named after a 19th century physician who made hypnosis popular, was it could be mounted inside an external camera flash and used the same way. It was a theory, of course, I wasn't allowed electronic equipment in my cell. But as soon as I was able, I built the device, it was even easier than I had thought.Testing it was fun, I used it on tourists, claiming to be a professional photographer and after using the Mesmer, made them to all sort of interesting things: Public strip teases, singing, dancing, I even convinced a British couple on honeymoon to have sex in a fountain, so I knew the Mesmer would work. At least it worked on humans, I had no idea if it would work on a metahuman. Only time would tell, Spain had no metahumans, at least none that were doing metahuman heroics.But finally, all the incisions healed and the swelling gone. I flew back to America, landing in New York, then took a shuttle to Queen City in March. No one questioned my false documentation anywhere along the line. I bought a small house and went on a mission to find everything about White Owl that I could. I soon discovered that she was not at all popular in Meadowbrook, Queen City's less reputable neighbor. The police had a dim view of White Owl and there was a rumor that there was an arrest warrant for her if she ever showed up in that town.Interesting, It just so happened that I had connections in Meadowbrook. There was a mental hospital there. The director of the facility was my younger brother, Louis. As I contemplated the facts, a plan began to form. It took several days to work out all the kinks, but if they worked out, I knew what to do to destroy White Owl forever.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content"></a><a name="lw_1263029742_0"></a><a name="lw_1263029742_1"></a><a name="lw_1263029742_2"></a>Louis was different from me in many ways. First and foremost, he truly cared for his patients. As therapists go, he was very gifted and able to listen with his soul, which made him very effective. Second, he despised hypnosis, which led to more than a few glorious discussions over a good bottle of wine.Third, and most important, Louis was ethical. He never overcharged the state for his clinic's services. Yes, it was called Meadowbrook Asylum, but not by choice. Since several violent patients were housed there, government regulations forced him to change the name from "Mental Health Center" to "Asylum"I thought it best to call him first. He had no idea what I looked like since my surgery and I saw no reason to surprise him like that. I also knew he wouldn't call the police, he wasn't convinced I was guilty. To be honest, he never thought me capable of killing my wife. He was wrong, but why cause him any more pain? The old saying “Ignorance is bliss” was very true, especially in his case.It was a rainy day in Meadowbrook as I slipped a pair of quarters into a pay phone and dialed. It took awhile to get through to him, he had a very good secretary who kept me from speaking to him. But finally, after 10 minutes and another 75 cents, I was put through to his direct line. The call went as I expected, shock, astonishment, anger. I let him vent for several minutes, allowing the flood of emotions drain into reason again. "Where are you?" He finally asked. "A phone booth..." I started to say. "I know where you are. There's only one phone booth in Meadowbrook, I'll be there in 20 minutes." "Thanks, but I don't look like me anymore." A pause. "Alright, stay near the phone booth. I'm driving a silver Audi." "See you then." I said, hanging up. I was in for a long wait, and people lurking near phone booths attracted attention, especially in a city full of cell phone providers.Louis was always punctual, and this time was no different. He looked tired, but running an asylum would be a difficult job. After telling him my version of events, he took the day off, we went to his home and shared a bottle of wine and dinner. He was an excellent cook and really outdid himself providing a good meal for his long lost brother. After consuming the bottle and a goodly portion of a second, we began catching up with each other and before the night was over, I had a job in the asylum as a therapist. He examined my paperwork, “That's an alias.” He commented warily. “Yes it is, I hate not being able to use our good name. But until I can discovered who murdered Elaina, if she was murdered. You have no idea how despondent she was. I must keep my identity hidden.” Like your face, what would our parents say?” He said. “Dammit Louis, what choice did I have? If I'm arrested, I'll be executed for killing my wife! I'll die because she collided with a damned tree! Do you have any idea how that feels?”<br />“So all of this.” He tossed my documents on the table. “Are lies.” “Yes, I'm not proud of that. But I have nowhere else to go. Listen, if you don't want me here, say so and I'll leave.” He was referring to my properly forged credentials and references from overseas hospitals. Quality false documents took time and money to obtain, but it was worth every penny for they opened up the world to me.<br />He leaned back in his overstuffed chair, templed his fingers in front of his face, thinking hard for several minutes. I sipped the wine, then refilled mine, then his glass. “Here's what I can do. Let me take your information to the board. I'll present your case to hire you. If they ok it, then you have an interview with them. If they approve of you, then you can start at Meadowbrook. But I will not stick my neck out for you. It's totally up to them.” I smiled. “That's all I can ask of you, Louis. Thank you.” “It will take a few days, maybe a week. Until then, you can stay here.” He said. We stood, hugged each other then he led he to the guest bedroom where I promptly fell asleep, no doubt fron the wonderful food and wine.<br />Ten days later, I began my career at Meadowbrook Asylum. The board of directors loved the idea of a “European Worldview” that I would bring to the facility. The only problem I faced was the HR Director. I had a private, unscheduled meeting with him. Using the Mesmer, I put him in a light trance, then used my own skills to put him in a proper hypnotic state. I had heard that HR people were only drones in the grand scheme of an organization. It's true. He went under very easily and was easily coerced. I told him that my credetials and referencs were impeccable. He agreed and would notify the board accordingly.<br />The biggest part of my plan was to take charge of Meadowbrook Asylum. That meant that I had to move against my own brother. I wouldn't kill him, that would raise too many questions. But I knew that there were chemical agents that could render him helpless for an indefinite period of time. I called an acquaintance in Moscow, she knew some people who knew others who may have what I needed, but the amount of money needed to expedite the process would be high. Cursing mentally, I arranged to wire 5 million Euros to Svetlana's bank the next day. She called me back a day after that, pleased and promised delivery in 3 weeks. She was as good as her word, and the next day, I had a case of Carruades de Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1953 Pauillac sent to her.<br />I knew it would take a few months to fit into my position and to see who could be trusted when I made my move against Louis. I also found lots of interesting info on the town sheriff, a man named Randall Clayton, a small minded cop who, according to rumor, had his fingers into every illegal activity in town. He also hated White Owl after she broke up a gambling ring that was bringing in a million dollars a year to his personal coffers.Hatred was an emotion I could use. And his illegal activities and contacts gave me a lever to use in his mind. But I would have to be careful, making small steps, earning his trust. So when the time came to move against Louis, I would have a well placed and powerful ally. And when I offered him White Owl, he would do anything to get his filthy hands on her.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content1"></a>It was odd to work in a clinical setting. My patients weren't wealthy or powerful, just the opposite was true, they were delusional, psychotic, schizophrenic. But the criminal inmates were the most interesting. Child molesters, rapists and even an accused serial killer were in my care. He was faking insanity to stay out of prison. He was remarkably intelligent and clearly a sociopath. He could be a useful tool in the future.One person I met was an unabashed fan of Louis. A nurse named Gemma Laurence, a highly skilled RN. She had, until a year ago, worked in one of the biggest hospitals in LA until she was fired for stealing pain meds. She couldn't find work until she put a resume on an job site. Louis found her resume and offered her a job. Louis was somewhat of a romantic, a firm believer in redemption and second chances. Perhaps that was why he was such a good therapist, he never quit believing in his patients. Gemma was good at what she did and, and in her eyes, worshiped the water that Louis walked on. I would either have to find a way to get her moved out of the facility before I made my move against Louis or find her mental lever and get her in my control. With her being as attractive as she was, I would rather control her, her long curly brown hair and green eyes reminded me of my wife.About a month after starting at Meadowbrook, I had my first encounter with Randall Clayton. He had brought in a violent drunk for a psych eval. He was in his early 30's and heavyset. He was a man who enjoyed being in control of whatever environment he was in. I'm very much the same way, but I'm aware of that and can give others the illusion of control if I see fit. I saw his true personality as we were inventorying the drunk's possessions: We were going through his wallet and found $500.00 and 3 credit cards. Clayton pocketed the cash. He looked at me. "If anyone asks, he offered me a bribe to let him go." He confiscated the credit cards. "If anyone asks, we didn't find these cards. He probably lost them during his bar crawl." I had to smile. "What cards, sheriff?" I replied with a wink. He returned the smile. "Doc, you keep that attitude and I can promise you a lot more than what this job pays." "Sheriff, I believe in the golden rule: He who has the gold makes the rules." He laughed, slapping me on the shoulder. "You're a smart man, doc. I like that." He replied.With that exchange, I earned the favor of arguably the most powerful man in Meadowbrook. As expected, in the weeks and months that followed, we took in a fair amount of cash and purloined our share of valuables. Clayton was without scruples, he had several warehouses full of stolen merchandise taken by thieves who worked for and were protected by him.Finally, the time was right for me to strike. It was late summer, and I had spent 4 months making all the preparations and there was no any longer reason to wait. Every morning, I'd buy a cup of coffee for Louis and myself, we'd talk in his office This time, however, I added an extra element to his cup, a rarely used poison used in the old Soviet Union. If the Party needed to get rid of an opponent, that poison would be given. The reaction looked exactly like a psychotic break, which gave the leaders of that corrupt regime the perfect excuse to remove that opponent.I'm a firm believer in the evolutionary process "Survival of the fittest." Thus far, I have been stronger than only one opponent: White Owl. And if my plan works as devised, then White Owl will be an inmate in a very special cell undergoing a very special treatment that will leave her mind an empty shell that I could fill with any thought that I could come up with.But first, I had to order some special equipment and bring in Sheriff Clayton. He had a major grudge against the white clad heroine. His contacts and sources of illicit materials would supply me with everything I needed.But like with every plan, the first step was the most difficult. As we discussed the treatment plans of my patients, Louis drank his coffee. He began to blink rapidly, then perspiration began dotting his forehead. "Are you feeling alright? You look pale." I said, "You..." He gasped, then began screaming like a possessed banshee, the styrofoam cup disintegrating in his grip as coffee sprayed through his fingers. He began clawing at his face, his eyes. I had to hold his wrists while he fought like a madman, kicking and headbutting me, spittle flying from his mouth as he screamed, his eyes insane with rage and paranoia.Fortunately, his secretary heard his screams and called for help. It took 4 orderlies to hold down my 5'6, 155 pound brother down while I gave him a sedative. They were shaken, he was quite popular with the staff. "It's ok, take him to the infirmary. Make sure you get him in restraints..." My voice cracked, not just by design. "Tell Dr. Barrett to start him on Precedex. I'll be down shortly to look in on him. We need to call the board of directors."A gurney was quickly brought in and my brother was laid gently and strapped down, blood oozing from his facial wounds. "Don't worry, sir. We'll take good of him." The head orderly said, wheeling him to the infirmary. I stared after them, his secretary placing her soft hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright Dr. Lacombe?" she asked gently. "Yes, Tricia. Thank you."What happened?" she asked. "It could be a psychomotor epileptic seizure, a brain tumor or a psychotic episode." I answered quietly. "But right now," I said, turning to face her. "I need you to call the board and call an emergency meeting. Dr. Fournier is incapacitated and we need to have an acting director appointed." "Yes doctor, at once sir." She answered, moving to her phone."I'll be in my office if a statement is needed." I said as I walked away. I didn't hear her reply, I was lost in my own thoughts and feeling guilt, anger and shame. They were feelings I had thought far beneath my ability to sense. I was glad I could be alone, I needed to think, to compose myself and establish my self control. I meditated, crushing the negative feelings that weakened me.It took half an hour, but with my resolve restored, I called Clayton, informing him of the first stage of our plan. He congratulated me, assuring me that he would do whatever it took to keep me in charge of Meadowbrook Asylum. I thanked him before hanging up.Stage two would be easier: I needed to find White Owl and take her picture.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content2"></a><a name="lw_1263030417_0"></a><a name="lw_1263030417_1"></a>With everything ready, I didn't feel like driving around Queen City for days looking for White Owl. So I decided to bait her. All it took was a small fire in an apartment building. Fortunately, such buildings were prevalent and fires in such dwellings were easy to set. All it took were a few common household chemicals combined in a plastic bag. The chemicals would slowly warm to a temperature that caused combustion, giving me enough time to exit the building and get to my car, where I had my camera and the Mesmer ready. All I needed was my heroine.<br />It wasn't a huge fire, but it was smoky and that causes more panic than open flame. I didn't care about casualties, these simple people were merely bait, nothing more. I wanted their distress to bring White Owl. If she showed up, then their sacrifice was not in vain.<br />As expected, she arrived before the fire department. The third floor was now full of smoke and some flames were poking from blown out windows. Faint screams could be heard from within the structure. White Owl shot in through a broken window, the smoke parting around her. It only took moments for her to start flying victims from their apartments to a nearby parking lot as the fire trucks began to arrive. She made 7 trips, her white leotard darkened from the soot after she finished evacuating everyone on that floor. While the firefighters attacked the blaze, White Owl stayed with the evacuees, comforting them and hugging a few children who appeared to be crying.I made my approach, my camera at the ready. "White Owl!" I called out. She looked at me, her beautiful face glowing against her now-gray costume. "May I take a picture for the paper?" "Certainly, but make sure you get shots of the the firefighters who are doing the real work." I agreed, asking her to step clear of the victims, using the burning building and the setting sun as a backdrop.She took a moment to run her gloved fingers through her dark hair. "Don't worry, White Owl, it's impossible for you to take a bad picture." I said. She smiled, "Thank you, that's sweet." "That's perfect, keep that smile, please." I turned up the Mesmer to maximum and said "Here we go." I snapped the shutter, the Mesmer emitting it's mind numbing flash. Her face went blank, her eyes devoid of feeling. "White Owl. There is danger coming to Meadowbrook. You will receive orders tomorrow. Do not tell anyone, that includes the Guild. Only you can save the city. Do you understand?" "I understand." She replied, her voice flat and emotionless. "Good, you are no longer needed here. Go home and rest. You will need all your strength for tomorrow. You will forget we spoke." I will go home and rest. I will forget we spoke." She repeated and was airborne a moment later.The effects of the Mesmer were temporary. But the suggestion for her to go home was active, she'd wake up in a few minutes and not recall a thing. I called Clayton and let him know that White Owl was prepared. Now it was back to the Asylum and a special cell in the basement of the complex.<br /><a name="lw_1263029767_0"></a>As I was returning to the Asylum, my pager went off. "Return to boardroom asap." the LCD screen read. I said something unprintable, then called Tricia, instructing her to turn on the air purifier in the boardroom. It was not what it seemed. It was actually a modified air purifier, the modification was a white noise generator, the same type I used very successfully on White Owl. As soon as the board entered, it would begin affecting them. By the time I got there, their minds would be putty in my hands.Still it was inconvenient, it had been nearly 10 hours since my initial call for the emergency board meeting. Granted, it gave me time to do my personal business, but their lackadaisical attitude was unprofessional, to say the least. I could use that to my advantage. As I pulled into the parking lot, I could see the board members cars in the lot. All of them were there, that was good. After a quick stop at my office to grab a jacket and tie, headed to the boardroom, preparing my mind for the combat ahead.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content3"></a><a name="lw_1263029767_1"></a>I entered the room to see a group of tranquil faces looking at me. I could hear the intonations of the white noise and I suppressed a smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, good evening." I said. Minerva Stark, the Chairperson of the Board, greeted me. "Dr. Lacombe. We received a report from Dr. Barrett concerning Dr. Fournier. He has suffered a severe psychotic break. We are aware of his personal issues with his brother. His reported death and later escape from prison must have caused severe damage to his psyche.” I was surprised they knew that much about his personal life. I feigned ignorance as they filled me in. I wondered what their reaction would be if they knew his brother was in their midst. “We will make sure he gets the best treatment available and also that his...difficulties will remain in-house. Do we have a problem with that?" "None at all. I think that is the best direction for everyone." I replied."Excellent, now there is the matter of his replacement. It is not a permanent appointment. We have compiled a list of professionals who would do nicely in that position." Rex Bridges, the CFO, handed me a folder, I perused the names and was impressed with those listed. "Do you approve, Dr. Lacombe?" Stark asked. I focused my gaze into her eyes. I knew she was in her late 50's, but due to botox, looked about a decade younger. Still, her bifocals and business suit gave her the look of a librarian. I lowered my persona of a clinician and changed into a predator. "With respects, there is one name missing. Mine."Now the game was changing. It was easy to hypnotize one person, but 7 is a challenge. One can do mass hypnosis, but in a group setting like that, where everyone wants to be placed in a trance, it's simple. But these people did not. I hoped my white noise had lowered their mental defenses enough for me to mentally dominate them. But I knew if I swayed Stark, the others would follow her lead. "Yours, doctor?" She said. "Yes, and if I may, I'd like to explain my reasons." I focused my gaze on her, into her brown eyes, I could see questions in them. But as our gaze met, I exerted my will. "Very well, doctor, you may proceed." Her fingers, intertwined on her desk, twitched as we connected."Thank you." I stepped forward, placing my hands behind my back, spreading my feet apart like a boxer. I knew I had to exude power and control. I could do that. These people were sheep and I was a very hungry wolf. That was my advantage. They had no idea who I was and they would pay dearly for that. "I have worked here for several months, I know the staff, I know the patients and their needs. And most importantly, bringing in an outsider will make it difficult to keep our present troubles private." Then I looked each member in the face, staring till our eyes met, making a connection with them. I could tell the white noise had done it's job. They looked sedate, pleased and willing to listen to whatever I said."That's what you don't want, an outsider. Am I right?" There were nods. "We trust each other, know each other." Jamie Ragland, the HR director, spoke "He's right, I know Dr. Lacombe's record. I've spoken to his employers and they each gave rave reviews of him. I think making him proxy director would be ideal. I hereby nominate Dr. Anton Lacombe as acting director. Do I have a second?" "Seconded." Bridges declared, smiling stupidly at me. I nodded, he looked like a pleased puppy. Stark raised her hand. "Members of the board. Those in favor of appointing Dr. Lacombe as acting director say aye." There were seven fast "Aye's" "Those opposed?" There was silence. "Motion is carried. Dr Lacombe, congratulations. I speak for the entire board in assuring you that you have our full support." I bowed. "Thank you. Your confidence is overwhelming."Ragland hadn't spoken to any of my employers. A few weeks ago, I had placed him in a trance and convinced him that he had. He had an easy mind to work with, I had learned all sort of interesting things and as a plus, could hire almost anyone I needed to. For instance, when White Owl arrived, the ordinary staff wouldn't do what I wanted done with her. So I hired some low level criminals and had Ragland bypass the background checks. Their main job was to ready a basement room that had been unused since the 1960's. It took a lot of cleaning, then I had hidden speakers and camera's installed. I even had a special straitjacket designed for White Owl, reinforced with kevlar straps and heavy duty buckles.But the item I was most proud of finding was Ibogaine, a powerful hallucinogenic. It would keep White Owl in her own world. As long as she was dosed, she be no danger to anyone. But White Owl was due in a few hours and there was much to go over before she arrived. Upon arriving in my new office, formerly Louis', I composed an encouraging, positive email to all staff members. I let them know that I was making a few changes, nothing dramatic but the basement area was off limits due to renovations and toxic mold removal. I figured that would keep curious souls away, the special employees I hired were hard at work with finishing touches on White Owl's cell. The heavily reinforced bed that I had ordered (with Clayton's connections to skilled craftsmen who didn't advertise in the Yellow Pages) was being bolted down and connected to the Asylum's power grid. The straitjacket was ready, it's wireless vital sign sensors were functioning perfectly. The carbon-titanium chains and locks were waiting. I had even ordered a special gift from a fetish site for her, it was in my briefcase, waiting for it's first use.And while this was going on, I was fielding phone calls from every department head giving me their wish lists of equipment and personnel. I told them that while the directorship had changed, the budget had not. But if some of the ideas I had came into fruition, there would be more income to play with. They seemed satisfied. There was a polite knock on my door, it opened to reveal Gemma Laurence, a dinner tray in her hands. "Director, I took the liberty of bringing you some dinner. I hope it's ok." She gave a nervous smile. I returned it. "That's very kind, Ms. Laurence. Please set it down." "Yes sir." She said. Gemma was beautiful, and there was something about a woman in a nurse's uniform that struck a chord inside me. She placed the tray on my desk and departed quietly. I watched her hips sway gently under her white skirt while I answered yet another phone call. It was Dr. Barrett, informing me that Louis' mental state was still unchanged and was in restraints and mild sedation. I knew that YKD-19, the drug I had given Louis, would work for days.<br /><a name="lw_1263029767_2"></a>After 45 minutes of dealing with official asylum business, I called Clayton, who assured me that he was ready on his end to capture White Owl. I thanked him and told him to get some sleep, tomorrow would be a long day. He hung up. It was suddenly quiet in the office. I realized that I was hungry and lifted the lid off tray. There was a small salad, a bowl of chicken soup and a ham sandwich with Swiss cheese, lettuce and tomato. A cup of coffee with a pair of sugar packets and two little cups of cream sitting beside it. The food was not standard cafeteria fare. I had a brief fantasy of Gemma in the staff kitchen preparing the meal for me.I cursed myself mentally for allowing my focus to drift away from my task. Still, the meal was welcome and quite good, it vanished quickly. Fortified, I stood and made my way to the basement. As I made my way down the narrow staircase, I found the steel bars set solidly into the walls, floor and ceiling, a small door the only way in and out of the cell. The bricks in the wall were an odd shade of light yellow, reminding me of the bacterial cultures we grew in medical school. I suppose it was an American idea to make bricks in that color.The bed was ready, one of the thugs was actually wiping it down. Still others were sweeping up the last bits of trash. I nodded and gave him a gentle slap on the back. He stood and looked at me. "We're ready here, doc. When does the superbitch get here?" "Tomorrow afternoon. You've done a great job in a short time. Take your people and relax for a few hours, have a few drinks but be here at 7 AM sharp." "You got it doc. See you." The men stood and made their out, one at a time through the narrow gap in the bars, laughing and making rude comments about White Owl and what they would do to her. I frowned, reminding myself to tell the men again in no uncertain terms that White Owl was not to be harmed.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content5"></a>I was alone in White Owl's cell. I checked the EKG scanner, making sure it was synched to the sensors in the straitjacket. I operated the bed's tilt functions, they were perfect. The Ibogaine vials were in the mini fridge, the cameras worked, the speakers worked. All I needed was a heroine and she would be here by this time tomorrow.When White Owl was safely ensconced in her bondage, then I could begin the process of destroying her grip on reality. She would tell me every secret, every dream she ever had. She would reveal everything she knew about the Guild and it's members. By the time I was finished, White Owl would be an empty husk. After that, Clayton would take the shell that had been White Owl and sell it to the highest bidder.Thinking about the beautiful heroine, I considered putting my own bid in. It would be poetic justice. She took everything from me. I would make her give herself to me in return. Everything was ready, I was tired so I went to my office and fell asleep in my leather chair, still in my jacket and tie. I didn't care, revenge was in my reach.<br /><a name="lw_1263029795_0"></a>That night I had a very erotic dream. I was sitting on a throne wearing a royal blue robe and a small crown. At my feet were White Owl and Gemma, each wearing a red thong bikini and slave collars around their necks. Gemma's long hair was undone and almost dragging on the stone floor of my throne room. She was kneeling, my hand pulling the chain attached to her collar. She crawled to me obediently, lust gleaming in her eyes. White Owl was more defiant. A ballgag in her mouth, she was drooling on the floor, her hair hanging loosely around her face, her wrists manacled with an 8 inch chain between them. Her lovely skin was bruised and her back was covered with welts."White Owl, your pain can end. Simply lay at my feet and you will know pleasure beyond your wildest dreams as my concubine." She glared at me, her fists clenching. Without warning, she lifted into the air, pulling the chain from my hands, she roared with rage, biting through the straps of her gag, swinging the chain like a flail, my guards falling before they got close to her as the heavy chain ripped through them.Gemma rose to her feet, throwing herself at White Owl, their limbs entangled as Gemma pulled her to the ground. They wrestled briefly before Gemma wrapped her arms around White Owl, pinning her arms to her side, face to face. The two women stared at each other for a moment before Gemma leaned in, kissing White Owl on her full red lips...The damned phone rang, ending the dream. "Yes?" I bolted upright, then snapped”Yes?” into the receiver. "Mornin' doc." Clayton said "I just had my messenger take the note to the Queen City PD." I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. "You there doc?" he said smugly. "Yes sheriff, We're ready for her." I stretched my stiff neck. "Good deal, Hopefully by 11, she'll be in custody." "Sheriff, please remember that the less damaged White Owl is, the easier it will be to sell her later." I reminded him. "Oh don't worry. We'll be gentle with her. Just make sure the perverts you hired keep their pants zipped. That guy Forbes has a bad history with women. He's been in and out of Meadowbrook more times than I can count" "I'm fully aware of his background, Clayton. I have him firmly under control. He's very intelligent and can play the part of a therapist very easily. That is something I need for this operation."<br />There was a pause. "Ok doc, whatever you say. But if you mess this up, there's nowhere on earth you can hide." He warned me. "Don't you think that's a little bit over dramatic?" I said, pouring relaxing tones into my voice. "You can trust me, my friend. We've gone over every step in nauseating detail. Nothing can go wrong." "Nothing can go wrong." He replied woodenly. I smiled despite my sore body. "I'll see you when you get here, Sheriff." "Yes, I'll call you after we bag the Owl." He answered and hung up.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content4"></a>At last! We were close. At this moment, one of Clayton's deputies was delivering a request for White Owl's assistance. As a happy coincidence, Winslow, White Owl's police contact, was on vacation. The deputy, as instructed, showed the note to the desk officer, then retrieved it as the officer called to find out how to contact the Owl. As soon as things were moving, the deputy left, his job done for the day.I don't know how long it took to call White Owl, but about an hour after the deputy departed, I received a call that a white streak was seen heading out of Queen City across the river into Meadowbrook. Everything was falling into place. The warehouse she was headed for was one that Clayton used to ship contraband in and out of town. Today, there was nothing going in or out. White Owl dropped through a skylight and saw the large crate that supposedly contained a large bomb. I was shown the security video of what happened before it was erased. The crate fairly disintegrated as her gloved hands tore the wood apart. But there was no bomb, just hundreds of doses of heroin. As we hoped, she stared at the narcotics for several seconds, confused. As she stood there, six men charged at her from different directions. She whirled quickly, seeing the first man with a baseball bat. As he swung the Louisville Slugger, she didn't jump, she flew up, somersaulting in the air and grabbing the bat from the surprised man. She swung, still upside down, nailing him in the chest. He crumpled, hands grasping his ribs. But White Owl didn't bother with him, zooming to her right toward the second man wielding an ax. He swung, but White Owl used her bat to block the ax head, but the bat shattered. She dropped the splintered wood and ducked behind him, a swift kick to his knee dropped him, the sound of his kneecap letting go made everyone in hearing range cringe as he cried out, his ax falling away forgotten as he grabbed his useless leg, screaming in pain.But White Owl stopped, apparently to make sure that he couldn't grab the ax The third guard charged from her right, she landed gracefully, grabbing the guard's outstretched arm and pivoting on her heel, hurling him through the air. Apparently she used her superior strength because the poor man flew nearly 25 feet before hitting the concrete floor. But she made a mistake, she didn't look behind her. The fourth man, built slightly smaller than a gorilla, ran up behind White Owl and wrapped his huge arms around her chest, her arms pinned to her side as he squeezed, shaking her violently from side to side. White Owl's breath shot out, the expression on her face showing everyone she couldn't breathe. "Get her now!" He yelled as the fifth man, a large white chloroform soaked cloth in his hand, sped toward her. As soon as he got to within range, her long legs kicked out. The first kick nailed him squarely in the testicles, the force lifting him off his feet. But she wasn't through as her second kick caught him in the side of the head. He fell, twitching, his face pale. But she was still being squeezed by her personal gorilla and others said that her face was turning a nasty shade of red.But she didn't panic. To everyone's amazement, White Owl slid her arms inward and then brought them out fast, his grip breaking as if he were a child. But she held on to his right arm, twisting it as she flew behind him, dislocating his elbow since he couldn't turn fast enough to take the stress off his arm. He screamed and fell away from her, some said he was half running.But the sixth man was the ringer, the first five were cannon fodder, but of course they did not know that. The man fell to one knee in a shooter's crouch, his right hand reaching for a taser. White Owl saw him out of the corner of her left eye. She was too slow to react and paid dearly for it as he aimed at the heroine and fired.The darts impacted White Owl's right breast and neck. The current made her scream, her body convulsed. "Now!" he screamed and 4 other men appeared from their hiding places and fired their tasers at White Owl. Her screams intensified as her legs, arms and stomach were assaulted with electricity, her limbs flailing, her eyes wide but seeing nothing.For thirty seconds, they kept the current flowing, making sure that White Owl would be incapacitated completely. When the current finally ended, her body went limp, her eyes closed and her breathing was slow. But there was no time for high fives or congratulations, White Owl needed to be restrained. They moved quickly, removing her belt and rolling her over, using four pairs of handcuffs to restrain her wrists behind her and steel leg irons to hold her ankles.One of them grabbed White Owl, carrying her quickly to a waiting ambulance. They laid her on a stretcher, strapping her down securely. The doors were closed and the vehicle sped off, siren screaming toward the Asylum and White Owl's final torment. I was in my office, drinking coffee and eating a small breakfast as I waited for the phone to ring. It didn't make it through the first ring before I scooped up the receiver. "Mission accomplished, she's on the way." Was all I heard before the connection was cut off. I called my people, telling them to get White Owl's cell ready. To their credit, they had that part done. Forbes had his crisp white uniform on and had the straitjacket ready. I told Tricia that I would be working with a new patient and I was not to be disturbed for any reason. I looked at my watch as I made my way to the elevator. In 10 minutes, White Owl would be under my control.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content6"></a>I was in White Owl's cell when she was rolled in. With my penlight, I checked her pupils and didn't like I saw: She was coming around! That much current would put a normal human into a coma! After jabbing a sedative into her arm, I searched her thoroughly, finding a pair of lock picks, one in the left side of the neckline of her leotard and the other in the right leg opening, her guards made a few comments as my fingers searched the seams and openings of her costume. I pulled off White Owl's gloves and boots and discovered that some sort of adhesive kept her mask on. That was clever. But I figured that her skin oils would loosen that in a few days and her identity would be revealed.As soon as I was satisfied that White Owl was free of weapons, the new straitjacket was wrapped around her. The guards pulled the crotchstrap a bit tighter than I wanted, but it wouldn't do any harm. I had the basement divided into 3 rooms: Her cell, a small supply room and an exact copy of my office for "therapy." There was even a long hallway with fake cell doors. But inside my office there were a few additions, a modified map of Ohio and some commercial software that was modified."Take her to the office, she'll wake up soon." Two men grabbed her, one by the ankles, the other from behind her, using her ample breasts as a handle. He was grinning like a teenager in the bathroom with his first Playboy. I'd have to keep an eye on him, he could never be alone with White Owl. After a minute, I followed them into my office.<br />She was laying on a soft leather couch, breathing softly and easily. After dismissing the duo, I look at her. She was intensely beautiful, even in a straitjacket, she held an air of strength that was palpable. I was all too aware of that strength. I remember falling through the sky repeatedly, I remember the shame of wetting myself, of confessing every crime to that detective while being recorded. And the worst part was revealing my counter suggestion that broke my control over all my "clients."No, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was extradition to France, that horrid orange jumpsuit, the manacles, that long plane ride confined in a seat that was probably used on a B-17 in WW2. Then the trial, so many charges, my belongings impounded, locked in a cell with common criminals. I was beaten, the prison guards looked on, doing nothing. Things didn't go well until I had a small heart attack, then I was moved to a more secure wing of the prison. From there I planned my escape.And now things had come full circle. As before, I had White Owl helpless before me, this time I had her body, next I would take her mind. I ran my fingers through her soft hair. Then my IM program chirped, I went to my computer and read the message. It was an inventory of White Owl's belt. I had no idea she carried so much. It was good info that I could use. I looked at my captive, planning my next move.A few minutes later, White Owl's breathing increased. Her head gently turned from side to side, she moaned gently, trying to move. I went to her side, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "White Owl, can you hear me?" I asked gently. She moaned again, louder. "You're safe, you're in a hospital. You were hurt but you'll be fine."<br />Her eyes opened beneath her mask. She tried to sit up, but began to cough. I placed my hand on her shoulder, gently pressing her back. "It's ok, sedatives can do that. Relax and take a few deep breaths, White Owl." She complied, taking a few moments to get fresh air. She looked at me, then at her body. "Wait a minute, where am I? Why am I in a straitjacket?" She demanded. "You're in the Meadowbrook Mental Health Center. You are undergoing a mandatory 72 hour workup." For what?" She demanded, trying to twist inside her jacket. "Please, it's just a formality while the police go over the charges."<br />"What charges?" She looked at me, shocked. "Please don't fight the restraints. I don't want to sedate you." She considered this and relaxed. "Thank you. I'm Dr. Lacombe, by the way. I'll tell you what I was told: Yesterday, you broke into a warehouse. Inside of that was a crate full of gold coins that was to be shipped to Denver. You broke into that crate but the six guards who were there tried to stop you. Allegedly, you assaulted them before you were stopped. But since you were injured and you seemed confused, you were brought here."<br /><a name="cg_msg_content7"></a>"Yesterday Doctor?" White Owl began quickly, "I was asked to go there." "By Whom?" "Sheriff Clayton, one of his deputies brought a message to the Queen City Police Department asking for my help." I was taking notes, discovering her perceptions and reactions. "Go on please." I requested. "I was told there was a bomb in the warehouse, that's why I went in. I opened the crate that held the bomb." "Was there a bomb?" I asked. "No, but there was no gold coins either. All I saw was a lot of small packages. I think it was heroin, but I'm not sure. The men inside attacked me and I defended myself." "Heroin? How do you know?" "I don't know. If any lab analyzes it, they'll see what it is. I saw a lot there, someone should call the DEA." White Owl said urgently."Let's go back to earlier statement. You said a message was brought by a deputy to the Queen City Police." "Yes." "Thank you. Would you mind if I called to confirm that?” “Please do.” White Owl said, a sense of urgency in her voice. I picked up the phone, pretended to call out. I asked about the note, pretending to listen for a few minutes. “Thank you for that information, Sheriff. Goodbye” I hung up. “White Owl, according to Sheriff Clayton, no message of any type was sent to Queen City." "But they called me!" She insisted. "First you say there was a message, then you say they called you. I'm confused." I stated. "Clayton sent a written message to Queen City, Queen City called me." "Why didn't they simply call Queen City. If there was a bomb, wouldn't sending a courier with a message waste a lot of time? And why didn't they call the FBI? They have a well trained bomb disposal team?" "Because..." She started to say, then cut herself off. "I don't know Doctor." She admitted."That's alright, White Owl. You can't know everything. You acted on the information you were given." She gave me a grateful look. "But Sheriff Clayton is rather upset. He claims you have no jurisdiction to act in Meadowbrook." "I'm not surprised. He doesn't like me." She admitted. "Why is that?" I asked. "A while back, I broke up an illegal gambling ring he was running." "An illegal gambling ring?" I wrote it down. "Yes, I heard he was bringing in a million dollars a year." "And after you broke up the ring, you went to the authorities?" "Of course, the state looked into it, I heard a couple of investigators vanished and nothing really became of the investigation." She concluded. "And you didn't see anything wrong about that?" "Of course, but I'm not a lawyer or police officer." She answered."But you claim to have the authority to break into buildings without a warrant." I said. White Owl replied quickly."If you look at the metahuman legal cases. I'm thinking specifically of Superman vs LexCorp, 1989. Lex Luthor took Superman to court claiming that an anonymous tip given to Superman did not give him the legal right to break into one of his labs. It went to the Supreme Court and they concluded that an anonymous tip given to a police officer gave said officer probable cause. And since Superman was deputized, that legal right was the same for him.""And you are deputized?" I asked. "In Queen City." she said a little defensively. "And you carry weapons in your belt. The report I saw indicated that there were explosives in your Bop Balls." I asked. "Right, Explosives, gas, net, and just the hard steel ball." White Owl answered "I see. Do you have a permit to carry those explosives or any training on how to use them?" She looked pensive as she replied "Um well...yes and yes, though no federal paperwork, after all, White Owl isn't my real name." "So you use an illegal alias to bypass Federal explosives regulations? Those are felonies, White Owl" I countered, trying not to smile as I watched my captive cringe. "No, as a Federally approved metahuman, I am allowed to carry my tool belt. The Guild functions as a Federal Law Enforcement group under Homeland security. We're deputized in the US." It was hard to repress my smile, she walked right into my trap.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content8"></a>Now I was going to make her squirm. "But are you an official member of the Guild?" I inquired. "Yes, but at present in the reserves, not active duty." "In the reserves. Are you not good enough for active duty?" I asked. "No, fit for duty, but still undergoing mandatory Guild evaluation...probationary status is reserve" She answered somewhat quietly. "Ah, evaluation, so you don't officially have legal status as a Guild member. And you say you're not fit for duty?" I was pushing her now." I AM fit for duty." She said, tension in her voice. I saw her arms tensing inside her straitjacket as I went on, "But you just said you weren't." She replied too quickly. "Just still on probation. I meant no, I AM fit for duty, just on probation, so I don't have full Guild status. Though I'm deputized in Queen City" "This isn't Queen City. In any police force, probationary periods are for screw ups, so what did you do wrong?"<br />I hate to say it, but I was enjoying myself. "NOTHING!" She yelled "Probationary period is one year in the Guild before full membership" I had just scored a major hit. "Why are you getting so upset? I'm simply clarifying some issues." I asked calmly. "I'm not upset!" Owl said through gritted teeth. "I am attempting to answer your questions..." "And not doing a very good job." I replied calmly.But then she turned the tables slightly. "You seem familiar somehow...do I know you?" She asked, looking intently into my face. " I don't think we've met. I would remember meeting a woman as lovely as you." I answered, appealing to her vanity. But before she could get her mental bearings back, I steered us back on course "You're on probation, you carry unlicensed explosives and you are in a city where you have no jurisdiction. And you seem rather upset and confused. May I ask you a question, White Owl?" She was defensive, her legs were curled slightly, her toes were clenched and she was shifting her torso, trying to get comfortable. "Yes, I think you just did!" She said a little too loudly.<br />"Why are so defensive? Are you keeping something from me?" "No, why am I here?" she asked, desperation tinging her voice "You broke into a warehouse. You told the owner there was a bomb inside. After tearing the place apart, you found nothing, but caused several thousand dollars in damages." She actually didn't talk to the owner, I put a false fact into her mind. She would try to remember that, but she wouldn't be able to. So she would begin to doubt her memory of the events, causing mental disorientation."But I had information regarding a bomb, it came from the Sheriff's office!" She exclaimed. "They have no record of any information sent to you. And since you are not deputized in Meadowbrook, there is no legal reason to bring you here." "Where is my belt?" She asked abruptly. "In the sheriff's office, with all the weapons inside, it was deemed to dangerous to keep here. By the way, the capsules we found, what are they for? Keeping unlabeled medications is dangerous" I added. "Capsules? I don't carry anything like that." "In the pouch next to your handcuffs. We found a bottle full of capsules." White Owl was very defensive now. "I don't have any capsules, I don't know what you're talking about." "So you don't know how they got into your belt?" I asked "No idea at all." She answered. "Do you think someone planted them?" "I do, but that would make me sound paranoid, wouldn't it?" She replied defensively. "Does sounding paranoid bother you?" "I'm not paranoid, I'm not crazy. I'm White Owl, and I need to get out of here!" "No one said you were." I said calmly.But White Owl was clearly upset and was trying to stand up, but in a straitjacket, that is almost impossible. "Please don't fight the restraints." I turned on the sympathy, "I think you're tired, White Owl. You feel like you carry the world on your shoulders." She looked at me, I nodded gently. "Yes...trying to protect them." White Owl said in a whisper. "Who are the "Them" you refer to?" I asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her. Perhaps I could learn what motivated her. I got more than I bargained for. "The people of Queen City, so many threats the police can't handle. Athena told me to protect them." I was confused on who Athena was. "Athena?" "The goddess--she made me her herald, gave me my powers." " Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom?" I asked incredulously. "Yes--she wants me to still the chaos and promote wisdom to the world."At this point, I had legal justification for an indefinite stay for this woman. She was delusional. Athena, goddess of wisdom? She was a myth.But where did her powers come from? I needed blood drawn, tests run, a CAT scan of her brain at least. There were other metahumans that could fly, but none of them claimed to get that ability from mythical demigods. I wondered if she had a very small brain tumor that gave her visions. It wasn't unheard of in medical literature. But she could fly. I knew that first hand. A small brain tumor can't alter a body's affect on gravity. As Sherlock Holmes once said "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." So there is a God, or at least a goddess...I told myself to think, time was passing and every moment I was silent gave White Owl a chance to mentally regroup. I couldn't allow that. So I fell back to Psych 101. "Have you lost anyone? Someone close?" Her voice held a noticeable chill, "Not recently." "And did Athena visit you after that loss?" I inquired. "No--several years later."<br />She had to know how, I hate the term but it fit perfectly, crazy her statements were. "Did you mourn them? Do you have unresolved issues?" Again, Psych 101. "Of course I mourned them. I'm not unfeeling. But I also dealt with the grief and moved on." "I didn't say you were unfeeling White Owl. You seem defensive about your mental state."Her response was a little surprising. "You seem determined to break it open...but I have secrets to protect--and my family's and friends' as well." "White Owl, I'm a physician, my oath says "Do no harm. You seem confused and defensive and you appear to be somewhat delusional." That upset her, but that was my intent. I had to keep her off balance, after all, she still had her powers. "But I'm not! how can I prove that to you?" She pleaded. "How can you prove that, White Owl. Perhaps if Athena could reveal herself, I could understand." "But she won't--she only speaks to me, oh I feel so confused." Good, that was what I needed to hear from her. "Is she here now? Can you see her?" I asked. "She's not here now--something seems to be interfering with my hearing her."<br />White Owl sounded nervous, almost afraid. I decided on compassion, "Perhaps you need some rest, to clear your mind of what's troubling you." "What do you mean?" She looked at me, an odd look on her face. "Do you have anyone that takes care of you, White Owl?" "No, I live alone." "So you give of yourself all the time, and get nothing in return. That's very noble." "That's not true--I have friends, rewarding work and the respect of the Guild."I came up with an idea. "Would you like me call the Guild?" White Owl's face lit up. "Yes! Let them know I'm here! Captain Valiant will come and vouch for me!" "That would help a great deal. What is their number?" It took a moment for her to think of it. "The switchboard is 909 555 4376. My access is 9695.”<br />I wrote that down. I didn't know how important that was, but to know White Owl's Guild access may be useful in the future. I looked at my watch. "It's 2:45 AM." I lied. I picked up the phone and dialed, it was an act. The phone wasn't connected to the phone system. I didn't want White Owl calling for help if she got free. I dialed the number. "It's ringing." I waited 6 seconds before speaking "Yes, I'd like to speak to Captain Valiant please. This is urgent." I waited, mentally listening to an imaginary receptionist "He's out the country?" "No! Anyone!" White Owl cried out, clearly upset. "This is Dr Lacombe. Please have him call me as soon as he returns." I waited, then gave my number. "Thank you, goodbye."<br /><a name="cg_msg_content9"></a>"Don't be upset, White Owl. He'll be back in 4 days. And as soon as he does, you can go home." But she was upset, almost ready to cry. I had offered salvation and ripped it away. White Owl was wounded now. "I need to get out NOW!" She cried out, nearing a panic state as she fought her straitjacket.<br />Opening the desk drawer, I grabbed a large syringe and hurried to her side. "White Owl, please don't fight." But she did, slamming her feet on the couch. It shook under the impact. I pulled the cap off the needle and jabbed it into her left thigh. "OWWWW!!!!" She exclaimed. ""Don't be afraid, this will help you to relax. White Owl, I believe you, but you need to rest."<br />I put my hand on her left shoulder comfortingly. "You know I can fight off a sedative, don't you?" She said. "Yes, but this is a very special one." Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" There was concern in her voice. "It's a strong sedative, you'll have the most amazing dreams. Please don't fight it. It will just make it work faster." I stared into her eyes, getting her attention as I used my hypnotic voice. "Please relax, listen to my voice, you're safe here"Her head was rocking back and forth rapidly, she was really fighting the straitjacket but it was holding fast. 'Just a few more seconds...' I willed it. "You need to rest, to be taken care of. You need peace and serenity, to let go of your burdens and concerns." I said to White Owl.<br />Her body began, thankfully, to relax. "Need rest, peace, yes." She whispered. "Yes White Owl, please let me help you as have helped so many others. You are a hero, but even they get tired. Athena wants you to be healed, she needs you strong and sound of mind. I can help you if you'll let me." My voice was full of relaxants. "Yes." she murmured.<br />I could see her relaxing, her eyelids getting heavy. "You are so brave, so strong. But rest now. Let me carry your burdens for awhile. Rest White Owl, relax and be at peace. You are safe here, you are among friends. We admire and respect you. But now, just close your eyes and sleep. Have no worries. All is well because you are here. Sleep White Owl." I commanded her.White Owl closed her beautiful eyes. I knew from the literature that there was a kaleidoscope inside her mind. "Relax, White Owl, you are drifting in a cloud of peace and safety. No one can harm you." Her head turned toward me, White Owl was unconscious. I stroked her cheek before taking her pulse. It was slow and steady. "Goodnight White Owl." I said to the sleeping heroine.When she awoke, her condition would be much more uncomfortable.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content10"></a>From her expression, White Owl was wracking her brain. "I...I think so. You were kind to me. You helped me..." "That's what I do, help people. But I want to warn you, if you keep fighting, I'll sedate you again. I don't want to do that because you're detoxifying and adding more drugs into your system isn't helping you." "Detoxifying? From what?" "Tribolizine, it's an extremely rare, extremely addictive form of mescaline. It causes great increases in physical strength, but it also causes hallucinations and if used for an extended period of time, psychosis."<br />"I don't use drugs!" White Owl yelled. "I'm not hallucinating, I'm White Owl, a metahuman from Queen City..." Her voice cut off as she heard herself. " "A metahuman?" I said. "That explains your outfit. I assume, and please correct me if I'm wrong, that you see yourself as a super heroine?" "I don't see myself as a super heroine, I AM one." She shot back defiantly.I paused and looked at White Owl, her pulse rate was reading 99, her blood pressure and respiration was also up. Her straitjacket was reinforced, but I doubted it would hold her if she used her full strength. White Owl was agitated and ready to exert herself in a panic. "I'm sure you are one, White Owl."<br /><a name="lw_1263030523_2"></a>I reached into the inside pocket of my lab coat, pulled out a portable Mesmer and aimed it at her face. "White Owl, look here." I ordered. She did and I discharged it, the light playing with her mind. "White Owl, can you hear me?" "I hear you." she said, her voice flat, her expression blank. "You have no powers. You are as weak as a normal woman. Repeat my directions." "I have no powers. I am as weak as a normal woman." she intoned blankly.I waited for several minutes, waiting for the Mesmer effect to fade. I could have compelled her to do more than believe she was powerless, but I didn't want to push her psyche too much. As the effect died out, White Owl began to become agitated again. "White Owl, what do you remember before you got here?" She looked at me, thinking..."Flying to the warehouse in Meadowbrook." "Flying?" I asked. "Yes, I have the ability to fly." "I see. You don't remember what happened inside?" "I stopped a drug deal--I was making the arrests--then something--funny--I don't remember the rest."<br />Her voice faded. "Do you remember seeing people inside?" "Five? No---six I distinctly remember six, not counting me." I began slowly, cautiously. "You are right. The three that are...resting, they weren't drug dealers." "No?" "The six were security guards, there was a shipment of gold coins being shipped. There were no drugs." "No I found heroin!" White Owl exclaimed. "Please White Owl, calm yourself. If you relax and listen to me, I'll let you out of the restraints. Would you like that?" "Yes, very much." She said quickly. "Good." I smiled at her. "You think you found heroin..." "I DID!" White Owl yelled. "It was all over...packets of it!" Her eyes were wide now. "The packets were chemicals that kept the gold from tarnishing during shipping." I explained. "But there wasn't any gold!" White Owl said, her voice rising. "The guards did their job to try to stop you..." "I had a tip off from...from...someone...There was heroin there!"This was interesting. There was no mention of the bomb. Perhaps the tasers scrambled her memory. But she was believing my lies and trying to defend herself against them. Things were working better than I had hoped for this early on. "Who sent you the tip?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I...I don't know--it was a man...his voice...sounded...sounded...sounded like YOU!" She stared at me as if for the first time. "You seem familiar..have we met before?"<br />This was interesting, and a bit unsettling. My face was unrecognizable, but my voice, my mannerisms, were unchanged. And if White Owl picked up on that, then I was in trouble. I had to play along with her, and divert. "We did, at the ER." I said calmly. "No--before then...I'm almost certain...maybe three years?" She sounded uncertain. I decided that some truth would work in this situation. I was living in France 3 years ago. Were you there?" Which was true, I was living in France, in prison, but that was something I didn't want to reveal. "No...but there was someone....you remind me of a man I sent to prison. He was extradited to France." "That is interesting, White Owl. I was a prison psychologist in France."I said, feeling more nervous.<br />I felt myself beginning to sweat as I remembered her strength and ferocity. "There was a man---called himself Somnos." She added. "That is a remarkable coincidence. Yes, I remember him. I helped treat him before he became ill." "You remind me of him... aren't you related to Dr. Fournier?" She asked. I was amazed, and frightened, of her perceptive abilities. White Owl truly was a worthy opponent, breaking her would be the pinnacle of my career. "No, my name is Lacombe, don't you remember? We met in the Meadowbrook ER, after you...hurt those guards."<br /><a name="cg_msg_content11"></a>As if she didn't hear me, White Owl inquired. "Why are you perspiring so Dr Lacombe?" I had to get her off this train of thought, NOW. "Why did you kill those 3 guards?" I fired back. " I didn't kill anyone! Life is Sacred to me!" She exclaimed in disbelief. "Of the 6 guards in the warehouse, only 3 are alive. There is security footage of you killing them." I knew that would distract her. I had to press this attack. "I don't believe you! White Owl doesn't kill--everyone knows that! I mean I don't kill" I almost smiled as I replied " Who is everyone?" "The police--the underworld--the Guild." I was playing White Owl like a violin as I replied "The Guild?" "White Owl sounded insulted as she answered. "The Guild of Superheroes! Captain Valiant knows I don't kill." "Who is Captain Valiant? And I've never heard of the Guild of Superheroes." I replied quickly.White Owl was nervous now. "You tried to call him when I first got her! Captain Valiant--the most powerful defender of Earth! Or Sirocco, the fastest woman? Dark Hunter? Danger Woman? Surely you've heard of them!" I shook my head as she mentioned each hero. "I'm sorry White Owl. I need you to listen to what I'm going to tell you. Don't take this personally. Can you do that?"<br />She nodded carefully. "Tribolizine, Those capsules you were taking, they caused hallucinations You've been taking them for some time, your blood tests showed a high amount in your system." White Owl opened her mouth, obviously to defy me and deny drug use--but closed it before saying anything. "In some cases, the user loses the ability to tell truth from hallucination. That is what we think happened to you." She stared blankly at me, clearly having no idea what to say."White Owl, before we go on, I need to get a sense of how much you remember. Can we do that?" There was a pause, then, "Yes, that would be fine." I smiled reassuringly now that I had control of the situation again. "White Owl, how long have you been here?" I asked. "I...I...I don't know." "You can take a guess." Now I had an opportunity to really alter her perception of reality. "An hour?" I paused as if debating whether or not to tell her, White Owl fell for it. "You've been here for 22 days." I said simply. "22....days? No I ...no that can't be right!"<br />She stared at me, horrified, not even wondering if I was lying as I continued. "Detox from drugs, especially hallucinogens, can alter your time sense. Do you remember our initial interview?" She shook her head. "From what you've said a few weeks ago, you live alone and you suffered some personal losses."<br />This time she nodded. "And instead of seeking help to deal with your grief, you started taking Tribolizine. And created a mental world that you could escape to. A world called Queen City..." "Queen City is my HOME! It's the next county over! " White Owl declared proudly. "You are it's defender, called by the Greek goddess Athena to bring peace and harmony to that place. Do you remember telling me that?" She gave a near imperceptible nod. "There is no Queen City. It exists only in your mind." I said gently. "Its ON the MAP of OHIO!" White Owl screamed, fighting the straitjacket and chains.<br />I grabbed a sedative syringe and hurried to her. I saw one of the buckles on her straitjacket had bulged outward. It wasn't surprising, panic can override a hypnotic suggestion, and the Mesmer, despite it's abilities, wasn't able to put someone in a deep trance that was more effective. But I had to stop her. Taking the Mesmer, I flashed her ""White Owl, can you hear me?" I asked her blank face. "Yes." "Whenever you struggle, you will feel pain. The more you struggle, the worse the pain becomes. Do you understand?" "I understand." She answered instantly. "Good, so don't struggle, I don't want to see you hurting yourself.""Do you want another shot?" I asked warningly. "No, please!" she pleaded, calming down slowly. "Thank you, as I said before, you've had too many drugs in your system. Now then, would you like to see a map?" Yes, please." I go to my desk, open a drawer, pull out a doctored map of Ohio. I took it over to her, spread it out so she could see it. "Can you see any place called Queen City? Take your time, White Owl. Look carefully." She spent several minutes staring at it, growing more confused by the second before declaring. "it's it's....Blues Landing? St Matthews? That's where Queen City and Zenith should be." She looked at me, fear in her eyes now. She was very confused and disoriented, just like I wanted. "What is the zip code?" I asked. "Queen City is 45244 and Zenith is 45011."Back to my desk again, picking up my laptop and booting an altered zip code program. "You've seen zip code look up right?" "Yes." White Owl answered. Holding the laptop in front of her, I entered 45244 and hit "Search." Almost instantly, "45244-No match found." Then I typed in Zenith's zip code, "45011-No match found." The look of utter bewilderment on White Owl's face nearly caused me to laugh.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content12"></a>I placed my laptop on the floor and laid my hand gently on her shoulder, "White Owl, There is no Queen City. It exists only in your imagination. The Tribolizine made it real to you." I said quietly. "What about the magazine? Chateau?" She asked. "You read Chateau?" I asked, surprised. "No, but I was on the cover--or rather a woman who looked like me."<br />She sounded embarrassed. "I can get an issue if you'd like to see it, and it would explain a lot about you." It looked like White Owl had swallowed a wasp. "No No No!" She exclaimed. Then her mind reasserted itself. "Wait, you said you knew Somnos?" "In prison, right before he died of cancer." I answered. "He came to the prison from the US, right?" She asked urgently. "No, he poisoned his wife." " And he tried to kill a private investigator!" White Owl interjected. " How did he do that?" I asked innocently. "<br /><a name="lw_1263030523_3"></a>“He was here--in this country hypnotizing people and stealing their money." She told me. " Stealing whose money?" I asked her. "His patients--overcharging. I knew one woman who paid him 40,000 dollars to lose weight--two sessions." "What was her name?" I inquired. Her answer was brusque. " I..I'm not going to give away that information." "Did she live in Queen City?" "Yes--I'm related--that's why I won't give it away."Now I dug the metaphorical knife into her gut. "But Queen City doesn't exist." I told her. "It does exist!" "It has no zip code, it's not on any map." I said. "I watched a Cobras game on Sunday!" White Owl said fast. "Are the Cobras the Queen City NFL franchise?" "Yes, I even saw Rick Linseed get into the game--that's how I know the Cobras were winning." She concluded."If I showed you the NFL website and you saw that there was no team called the Cobras, what would you do?" Abruptly, tears welled up in her pretty eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked, getting a tissue from my desk, dabbing at her eyes. "What are you feeling?" "My world is falling apart." She said, infinite sadness filling her voice. I tilted her head back gently, looked directly into her eyes. "White Owl, just the opposite is happening. Your world is coming together. The real world." I released her head.But she was not defeated yet. "My real world is out there!" She gestured with her head. "Let me loose and I'll SHOW you." "If I let you loose." I warned her, "You'll be taken directly to the Federal Penitentiary to face murder charges. If you stay here, I can keep you safe." "I didn't kill anyone and I'm not crazy." She said stubbornly. "No one said you were crazy. That is not a word I accept. You are a hurting human being. It is my duty to help you heal the hurt." I answered. "I'm not hurting--I am a helper to those in pain." "A helper to a city that doesn't exist." I told her.<br />White Owl struggled, but I could see the pain in her face and she stopped. " May I make a statement? It's not an insult." White Owl nodded and I went on. "You thought you had superior strength, am I right?" "I do." She answered instantly. "But you can't escape from a standard issue straitjacket." I told her. "Sure I can. You've had me so doped up here I can't hardly tell which way is up." She said accusingly. "You been detoxing from the Tribolizine. That's why you're having pain. But you're eating now, sleeping 8 hours a night and can make a real conversation. That is very good progress, White Owl. You should feel proud of that." She didn't say anything, but I saw a lump in her throat.""May I ask a question, doctor?" "Of course." I smiled. "Why am I chained?" She asked. I looked embarrassed. "When you first arrived, you were extremely violent and strong from the Tribolizine You ripped the straps off of five beds. The chains are the only thing that kept you from rolling off the bed or hurting others. It's Sheriff Clayton's idea. I don't agree with it. But with three murder charges and felony assaults on three others on you, he sets the rules on your confinement." "But I don't remember killing anyone! I've never killed before!" "I've very sorry, White Owl, but there are security tapes of you beating those men to death." "No!" She screamed, despair filling her cry. She thrashed convulsively, weeping uncontrollably. I went to the storage room, grabbed a syringe and a vial of Ibogaine and quickly drew out 15 cc's.White Owl was near hysteria, just as I hoped. Moving to the fallen heroine, I held her left leg down and jabbed the needle into her thigh. She cried out in pain, then in 10 seconds, she relaxed, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her heart rate plummeted from 126 to 71. I knew White Owl was now in a altered reality of her own design. I wondered what she was seeing. White Owl was limp, a Mona Lisa smile on her face. I had her now and there was no way she would ever be free again.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content13"></a>White Owl was having an incredible experience. From beneath the gag, she made amazing noises, almost like a cat purring. I'd have given a million dollars to see what she was seeing in her mind. My captive's body was writhing gently inside her straitjacket. Could she be dancing? Or perhaps she was having a fantasy of her being a singer. Her pulse was rising near 90.<br />I wished I had some EEG readings of my heroine's brain, judging from the rapid eye movements from beneath her eyelids, White Owl was fully lost in her subconscious, her deepest, most hidden desires was being experienced, perhaps for the first time.<br />Again, I found myself wondering who this woman was, what drove her, what made her happy or angry. I recalled my dream about her and Gemma, even in my erotic fantasies, White Owl was a warrior, defiant and strong. Perhaps a part of my mind believed that she would never break. But no, that wasn't true. Even now, this heroine was powerless to do anything to help herself.Footsteps clicked down the staircase. "Is she comfy, doc?" Clayton asked. Annoyed at the interruption, I stood and unlocked the gate. He pushed me gently out of his path, making a course for White Owl. As I expected, he went to her face, trying to pull the mask off and failing. "What the hell does she use, crazy glue?" He said from behind gritted teeth. "Hard to say, I'd bet some sort of organic polymer that needs a reagent to cancel the chemical bonds..." "Doc, I'm a cop, not an egghead." "My apologies, sheriff. I'd bet that White Owl uses a type of waterproof glue that takes a special chemical to remove." I answered, dumbing down my reply to his level. "Any idea what it is? I'd love to have that mask in my office and her portrait in my bedroom." "It's almost impossible to determine, we need access to a major lab and several days to analyze the glue." I answered, lying to him.<br />A good lab could figure that out in a matter of hours, but science was Clayton's blind spot. "But don't worry, my friend. In a few days, White Owl will tell us her name, address, phone number and bra size." "Just by shooting her up with that Ivygain?" He asked. "Ibogaine." I corrected him lightly. “And it is the active chemical in the African Tabernacle iboga root. It use in Africa was for coming of age as well as religious rituals.”<br /><a name="lw_1263030299_0"></a>“A small dose can give it's user a psychedelic experience lasting several hours. In some areas, mainly Europe, Ibogaine is used in drug rehab, there are some interesting studies that may indicate that Ibogaine cures narcotic addiction." I said. "Cures, you said." Clayton said quietly. I knew him well enough to know that when talked quietly, he was thinking about a new way to make money."It's still preliminary, sheriff, and Ibogaine is illegal in the States. It's said to be addictive so using it as a rehab method is counterproductive, to say the least." "And that stuff will make White Owl talk?" He asked. "In time, plus the fact that she'll get no food or water. That will weaken her body and the Ibogaine will weaken her mind.<br />We keep our Owl drugged to the gills for a few days, then let her come down fast..." "So when she comes to, she'll want the drug and will say anything to get it." I gave him a quiet round of applause. "Yes, that's exactly right sheriff. And after we learn everything, we sell White Owl to the Colombians..." If we don't want her for ourselves, doc." He said, staring at White Owl.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content14"></a>Walking down the side of the bed, he began stroking her thighs. He smiled as White Owl gasped. "She is a little bit slutty, isn't she?" He commented. "Not necessarily. People do stupid things when they're drunk, right?" "Oh yeah!" He answered. "A few years ago I caught the Mayor's 19 year old daughter driving drunk. She begged me not to arrest her or tell her daddy." He leered at the memory. "I agreed, but we discovered a whole new meaning of "Full body search." He winked at me.Clayton was not a stupid man. Unethical and a borderline sociopath, he had no business with a badge. He had regaled me with tales of his little empire called Meadowbrook, he had one rule: You could do nearly anything you wanted in his town, as long as he got a cut of the profits. And believe me, he was doing very well.<br />One of out first "agreements" was a new plan with psych workups. Normally, if a violent felon was arrested, he or she would have a mandatory 72 hour workup at a cost of $3000, paid for by the state. Before I arrived, the money would go into the asylum. After our "agreement" was made, Clayton would get a third of that cost as a kickback.<br />Soon he instituted a new policy: Anyone arrested would get a 72 hour workup, even for a minor violation like speeding. His reasoning was that speeding showed reckless disregard for the safety of others, therefore a speeder was mentally unbalanced and needed psychological intervention.The accused could, if they wanted to, have a private hearing with the sheriff. Invariably, if a "cash settlement" as he called it, I called it a bribe, could be reached, the case would be dismissed. But if the accused was someone with wealth or power, then their case file would be kept out of the public record as long as the "filing fees," aka blackmail money, was paid monthly. It was a very profitable system and since he was a cop, then any attempt to force him to stop only added more charges, both legal and financial, to said person.It was a wonderful arrangement for him and anyone he trusted. And he trusted me, albeit not implicitly. One of his maxims was "Trust is the main ingredient of betrayal." So he allowed people in to some extent, but not completely. Clayton was no fool. I admired that and made sure that I had a fast way out of town should anything go wrong.<br />I had no illusions that he wouldn't throw me to the wolves if things went wrong. And despite all our precautions, White Owl could find a way to escape. If that happened, her rage would know no bounds. I knew firsthand what that rage felt like, but this time, if she managed to get free, I doubted I would live through it."I hope you used rubber gloves, Sheriff." Was all I replied. He thought that was a great joke and laughed. "Rubber gloves, he said!" He repeated gleefully to White Owl, her head tilted lazily in the direction of his voice, her eyes unfocused. Clayton reached down, stroked her right cheek. Her purring sounds stopped. He pulled his hand back as if he had been shocked by a high voltage wire. "Is she waking up!" He asked nervously, his hand on his pistol. "Don't worry, my friend. Our captive Owl is still defenseless. Remember, her brain is hyperactive right now, your touch probably felt like a thunderbolt to her." I explained.<br />"Damn, think I could get some of your stuff for my girlfriend?" God, he was a cretin. "Check with me in a few days, if White Owl's brain is sufficiently fried, you can have some." He grinned. "Good enough doc, thanks." He caressed White Owl's breasts, even covered as they were with reinforced nylon and kevlar, she still responded, her back arching and her head rolling back and forth, her heartbeat increasing."Damn, this stuff is awesome!" Clayton said, astounded. "I got some stuff I have to take care of. Let me know if anything happens." "I'll keep you apprised, sheriff." I replied as he turned, leaving me with our prisoner. I decided that after she came down, the two of us would have our first therapy session. In the state that White Owl would be in, her mind would be easy to work with.<br />I went to my desk, called "Dr. Forbes" and had him take White Owl to my fake office while I went upstairs to get some coffee and make sure there was no pressing asylum business that needed done. Thankfully, it was all minor issues, budget requests, transfers, and 2 complaints about the psych workups. I handed them off to Legal and called Clayton, he'd speak to the accused personally, he assured me that the complainers would quit making trouble.<br />With a cup of coffee and an uninspired sandwich on my desk, I turned on the cameras and found "Dr. Forbes" escorting a very woozy, disoriented and straitjacketed White Owl down the fake hallway. I saw his lips moving so I turned on the mikes "...Don't you worry about a thing now, miss. After a few weeks of my treatment, you won't ever think you're White Owl again." I had to smile. He was playing his part perfectly, his hand was on her shoulder, guiding her carefully to her destination, looking and acting like a trained caregiver. I switched the camera in my fake office on in time to see them enter. With his hand on her elbow, he guided White Owl to the reinforced leather couch and helped her lay on her back. The chains went across her chest and hips.Then I saw something I did not like. As soon as she was restrained, his right hand slipped under the crotchstrap and her leotard, fondling her. White Owl moaned, her head tilting back as Forbes smiled, leering down at the helpless heroine. After a minute, he ceased, then kissed her on the forehead and left her alone. I would have strong words with him later, White Owl was never to be left alone, ever. And there was to be no sexual contact with her.<br />If she felt threatened, she may lash out and though my suggestions that struggling and using her metahuman strength would cause pain, her survival instinct may override that suggestion and cause her to try to escape. I tossed back the coffee and ate the sandwich as I hurried to the basement, angry at Forbes and worried that Owl would wake up alone and start thinking unguided thoughts.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content15"></a>When I arrived at her cell, White Owl, thankfully, was still drugged. But I knew from previous experience that she would come out of her stupor very quickly. But I wanted her to, I needed to shake her reality again. I removed her gag, noticing how dry her lips were, that was an early sign of dehydration. I knew she was hungry, White Owl hadn't eaten since her arrival and I wasn't going to nourish her until she was extremely weak.<br />I was curious to see how long her boosted healing abilities would carry her. But I was worried about her strength, while under the influence of the Mesmer, I had ordered her to be as weak as a normal human, but under stress, that order broke down. I was hoping that the new suggestion that struggling would cause pain would work.White Owl blinked her eyes as her respiration increased. "Daisy, need to feed Daisy..." she muttered. I wrote that down, putting "Pet" beside it. Interesting, she had a pet in real life. Since she lived alone, a pet would supply companionship that asked no questions, didn't wonder where she went for hours at a time at all times of day and night.<br /><a name="lw_1263030322_0"></a>But White Owl said she had family in Queen City. Perhaps they would report White Owl's alter ego missing in a few days. I made a note to have Clayton monitor missing persons reports in Queen City. If a woman matching White Owl's description was filed, we would know her true identity."Can you hear me, White Owl?" I said gently. Her eyes focused, looking at me. "Yes...where am I?...Thirsty." She whispered. "We have to watch your fluid intake, your kidneys aren't working properly. How long have you been taking Tribolizine?" I asked. "Don't take it. Never heard of it." she answered weakly. "White Owl...do you know your name?" I asked gently. "Yes, but I'm White Owl, my real name is my secret." "Why is it a secret?" "I have enemies, I need to protect myself and my friends and family from them." "Enemies in Queen City?" "Yes." She answered petulantly.<br />"Do you remember the map we looked at a few days ago?" "I...think so." she replied, hesitating. "So you remember seeing no Queen City on the Ohio map?" "Yes, but that map was doctored." She announced. "Why do you say that?" I asked as gently as I could. "I'm from Queen City, I was born there, I remember growing up there. I remember school and work and happy times there. I'm being set up." "By whom?" "My enemies." She said. "From Queen City, that doesn't exist." I replied neutrally. "IT DOES EXIST! I REMEMBER IT!" She screamed. "Please be calm, I don't want to sedate you again." I told her.<br />She fought the straitjacket and the chains, but cried out. "Are you alright?" "Hurts when I move. What's wrong with me?" White Owl asked. "We went over this last week, don't you remember?" "No." she said quietly. "I'm afraid the Tribolizine has caused permanent damage to your nervous system." "What will it do?" She asked.<br />I fought back a smile. White Owl believed me about the Tribolizine now. "The neurologist that examined you told you that rapid movement of your limbs, in effect, over charges the nerves that control movement, that causes your pain." "Will it heal?" I paused, acting like I didn't want to tell her bad news. "I'm afraid not, you will experience pain for the rest of your life. I'm very sorry.""I don't remember any of that." She admitted, looking at the ceiling. "I can see that, it is possible that the nerve damage has spread to your brain, that would explain the memory gaps. But we can start some rehabilitation, teach the working parts of your brain to compensate for the damaged parts. I'll call your lawyer, he can use that information."<br />"My lawyer?" White Owl asked. "Yes, your defense attorney, he thinks he can keep you out of prison due to diminished capacity from the Tribolizine." "Prison?" I could see her searching her mind. "The charges." She said. "Yes, you remember that, don't you." She nodded, "You said I killed 3 people..." Abruptly she began to weep.<br />That was a good sign, she was rejecting her reality for the one I was feeding her. I grabbed a box of tissues, walked over to her, dabbing her eyes, the mask still adhering stubbornly to her face. "White Owl, can you tell me what you're feeling?" I asked gently. "Confused...scared...alone." she said between sobs. I placed my hand on her shoulder. "White Owl, as long as I'm here, you aren't alone. If you'll let me help you, I can walk with you through these dark times. "But they say I killed people!" "White Owl, I am your doctor, I don't care what you did. You are in my care now and I will do everything under the sun to bring you happiness and healing again."<br />"But I don't want to go to prison!" she wailed. "Listen to me." I said forcefully. "If your lawyer can convince the judge of your diminished capacity, we can keep you here indefinitely, perhaps even be sentenced here instead of prison. You and I can work together and together, we can find the truth that you are looking for."White Owl looked at me gratefully, composing herself. "But I don't know what is true anymore." "Right now, that is true. But in a few weeks, you'll begin to see the world as it is, not like you want it to be. You'll be able to accept that world in time, and later on, you may be able to walk in that world again." "But I killed..." She believed it!<br />"You allegedly...hurt people. That's up for the legal system to determine. But right now, that's not something you need concern yourself with." "Doctor, why am I still in this straitjacket?" "Unfortunately, Sheriff Clayton insists on that. We wanted you to wear a pair of pajamas instead of your...uniform, but you refused. So Clayton ordered us to keep you in the straitjacket till you agree to put on Clinic clothing. We're not sure how legal that is, but we have our lawyers looking at that." "Clayton's not very nice, is he?" she asked me. "He's a police officer, he sees things in black and white. He thinks you are a criminal and treats you accordingly.""Can I speak with him?" White Owl asked. I shook my head. "Your lawyer forbids contact with anyone involved in the case. But since we're on the subject, is there any family you'd like to contact?" The look of grief and anguish that filled her face convinced me of her confused state. "I don't know...my family is in Queen City..."<br />She began crying again. I patted her shoulder. "White Owl, we will sort through this, you have my word on that." I gave her a reassuring smile. "Doctor, I'd like some pajamas, please." She asked, smiling through her tears. I barely fought back the urge to pump my fist like an American football fan while screaming "YES!" I took a composing breath. "I'll call a nurse and the two of you can change." "No straitjacket?" White Owl asked. "Conditionally, if you don't get excited or violent again, then you won't need that again." I answered, hiding my nervousness at this change in plan.Leave it to a woman to mess up a perfect plan."I promise to behave, doctor. Thank you." White Owl told me, a brilliant smile on her beautiful face. I was floored. I hadn't expected this much compliance from her for several more days at least. Could the Ibogaine be that effective in altering her perception so quickly? That and my subtle attacks on her reality must be doing a job on her mind. I was pleased with her progress despite her throwing a wrench into my plan.<br />But White Owl was a heroine, and that was her job, after all. I IM'd Gemma, asking her to bring a pair of small pajamas to the basement. I wasn't happy with bringing her in to this operation, but she appeared to be very loyal while my brother was undergoing his treatment. But again, the propaganda about the deranged woman in maximum security was well propagated though the asylum staff. Gemma would be cautious and she was extremely good at forgetting what she saw if I asked her to. The Mesmer would see to that."A nurse will be down shortly with the pajamas. She can help you clean up too. But remember, you can only keep out of the straitjacket is if you do exactly what you're told. Is that clear?" "Yes, I understand that, doctor." she answered. Gemma returned the IM, saying she'd be down in 10 minutes. "White Owl, is there something I can call you other than that?" She looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure what my name is...I have a name in Queen City, but if Queen City is fake, then that name may be fake too." She looked sad, confused again. "Ok, how about I call you Athena?" I thought it appropriate since she claimed that the Greek goddess was the source of her powers.She smiled again, "I like that, thank you doctor." "It's my pleasure, Athena." I replied, giving her a reassuring smile.All things considered, I was pleased with the progress. White Owl had willingly accepted my name for her, which meant she was in the process of abandoning the White Owl persona. As soon as Gemma helped her change into her pajamas, I'd have her give Athena an Ibogaine shot. When she woke up, she'd be the straitjacket again and I'd tell her that she hit Gemma. She'd have no memory of that, of course, but I'd tell her that she had another memory gap. That would confuse her even more.Yes, I could make this work in my favor. Revenge would soon be mine.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content16"></a>I had to admit, the PDA system we were now using sure beat the old intercom and phone system. I had just finished passing out the afternoon meds when I got an IM from Director Lacombe saying to bring a small pair of pajamas to the maximum security cell.<br />There were a lot of rumors floating around about that new section and it's mysterious new occupant. I heard everything from she was a junkie who killed 3 cops to a woman who fancied herself a superheroine and, after using magic mushrooms became psychotic. I wasn't too concerned, after all, I had been working here for awhile and had seen all sorts of violent types roll in.If course, Louis...I mean Dr. Fournier, had strict rules about female staff members having contact with violent or potentially violent male patients. He was always super concerned about our safety and we really appreciated all he did for us.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_0"></a><a name="lw_1263029945_1"></a>But now he was in isolation after his breakdown. There was a lot of talk about that too, this Lacombe character comes out of nowhere, sets up shop and is made director in under a year. It's not like I don't like him, but there's something about him that bothers me. Call it woman's intuition, but I knew that Lacombe was hiding something but unless I had solid proof, I dared not make an issue. If I lost this job, I'd never be able to get a job in health care again.I want to set the record straight, I worked in a hospital in California where I was accused of stealing pain meds. Yes, I did have a problem with them at one time. Three years ago, I was in a motorcycle accident with my boyfriend, he didn't make it. I spent 2 months in intensive care with severe abdominal injuries and a fractured left femur. It was hell for me, losing my love and enduring the agonies of multiple surgeries and rehab on my leg. Yes, I looked forward to taking the pain killers, it made me numb, both physically and mentally and I needed that. I missed Don, knowing I would never feel the touch of his hands again, see that smile that made me feel like a schoolgirl...But I went back to work, some said it was too early, but I needed to be useful, to bury the past in my work. Yes, it was a textbook case of how to become an addict and when I was caught, I was given the choice of going into rehab and resigning from the hospital or going to prison for 5 years. It wasn't much of a choice. I resigned, checked into rehab where I got clean, both mind and body. I stayed clean but could find no job in any hospital in America, there were lots of offers in Mexico, but I hated the idea of moving to a country that was bordering on becoming a third world nation.After a month, I found a low paying but very satisfying job in Denver, in a clinic operated under the auspices of the Greek Orthodox Church. It was hard work, most of the patients were low income families or addicts like myself.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_2"></a>But I stayed clean and found a niche there. I even discovered that there was healing and forgiveness for even one like me. I found the mercy of a loving God and that forever changed me. I found a new strength and purpose in my simple faith and it led to an network of damaged healers seeking work. I wept the day I received an invitation to apply for a job as an RN at a asylum in a little town called Meadowbrook, Ohio. I had never heard of the place, but I had heard of it's neighbor, Queen City and it's heroine. Of course, after saving the world's coffee supply, everyone had heard of White Owl.So I packed a suitcase and boarded a bus for Meadowbrook. It was a long, boring trip, but I caught up on my journaling and wrote several letters to God. I was hopeful, even packing one of old nurse's uniforms even though I had no idea what the nurses wore there.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_3"></a>Since my funds were meager, it was arranged that I spend a day in St. George's Greek Orthodox church in Queen City to rest and prepare myself for the interview. The Pastor there, Father Tim, gave me a warm welcome and showed me to the small but comfortable room I would be staying in. After that long hot, sticky trip in that bus, the shower felt glorious and as the water ran over me, I envisioned the past and all it's pain and shame washing away, leaving me clean and pure to start walking a new path. After a nap and meal, I went to confession. I wanted my soul to be as clean and prepared as the rest of me.<br />After receiving forgiveness, I went for a short walk, taking pictures of the scenery. Having grown up in the hustle and bustle of large cities, Queen City seemed so calm and slow. Still, I found myself looking skyward, hoping to see a flash of white. As a little girl, I used to read comic books and loved Wonder Woman, I had quite a collection till I left for nursing school, I sold the whole lot and still regret that decision. I found myself wishing White Owl would swoop down and introduce herself. I'd love to sit down with her and ask a million questions, I bet I'd feel like a little girl in the comic book store, buying the newest Wonder Woman and wondering what it'd be like to be her and dreaming about my adventures if I was her.So caught up in my reverie, I lost track of my location. In a strange city, that is a dangerous thing for a woman walking alone. Trying not to look nervous or out of place, I turned around and started backtracking, my paranoia seeing shadows in every doorway and behind every parked car. "Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." I repeated endlessly to myself till I saw, with immense relief, a police car on it's patrol. Flagging it down, I told the officer what had happened. He was kind enough to give me a ride back to St. George's. I gave him a brief version of why I was here and how embarrassed I was. Sitting in a police car brought back some unpleasant memories. But at least I was in the front seat, I'd hate to arrive at the church and having to be let out of the back seat like a criminal. That would not bode well with a job interview the next day.<br />Fortunately, it was only a 10 block ride and the officer was thoughtful enough to let me out of his car 2 streets away from the church. Leaning over, I gave him a kiss on the cheek, he beamed as I got out. He was cute and very kind. It was the only thing I had to properly thank him with. As he drove away, I found myself giving him a shy little wave. I made a note of the car number: 27.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_5"></a>Tomorrow I would call the local precinct and give the officer a compliment to his chief. The day had flown by, the sun was setting already! Heading back to the church, I checked in and bade Father Tim goodnight. He said he would pray for me. I abruptly choked up, his kindness to a stranger touched me deeply. He stood and blessed me as tears streamed down my cheeks. "My child, you are never alone, never abandoned, never without purpose or value, never unloved. You are who you are because of the Artist who put you together. Go in peace." Later as I laid in bed, I wept in happiness, feeling a sense of safety and security that I hadn't felt since I was a child as I drifted off to sleep.The next morning, I woke early, showered and did my hair and makeup, dressing in a gray business suit and low heeled pumps. I was nervous but confident as I ate a small breakfast and was driven to Meadowbrook by a church volunteer, a retired woman who was the Norman Rockwell image of a grandma. I won't bore you with any more details, but I got the job and as I worked, became more and more impressed with Dr. Fournier. Truth be it told, I was attracted to him, but to act on it would ruin us both. But now, thinking he was laying strapped down to bed and sedated was very hard and shocking to accept. I wanted to see him, but that prick Dr. Barrett wouldn't allow him any visitors. I worried and prayed for him.I took the elevator down to maximum security cell. Dr. Forbes, who set off every alarm bell in my mind, was standing guard at the door. I was carrying a tray with a fresh pair of pajamas, a bowl of warm water, a small bottle of body shampoo, two washcloths and towel. Forbes gave me a very unprofessional look and as I walked through the door, he squeezed my butt! I felt like kneeing him in a prime area, but I settled for a "Eat-a-manure-sandwich-and-die" glare and said "Excuse me....doctor." between gritted teeth before walking down the narrow stairwell. There was no way I wouldn't file a sexual harassment complaint and take it to the nurse's union."Let me get that for you, Nurse Laurence." Dr. Lacombe said, unlocking the chain link gate that was the final barrier to the cell. "Thank you, Director." I said, walking through. He took the tray from me an placed it on a folding stand by the patient's bed. I was shocked! She was in a straitjacket with chains across her chest and thighs! There was even a ballgag in her mouth! No way that was legal! I looked at Lacombe. "Those are Sheriff Clayton's orders. I don't agree with them but the legal team is exploring all avenues. I share your anger, believe me." He said evenly. He could have fooled me but I kept my mouth shut. I knew all the regulations about patient restraints and this was so far over the top that if this woman filed suit, she could shut the asylum down and take every cent the asylum was worth.I wanted to complain and opened my mouth to speak, But Lacombe gave me a look that was almost predatory. "Do you wish to say something, nurse?" The way he stared at me, it was unnerving, like he was looking into my soul. I stammered, "No sir. What are your orders?" It was the oddest sensation, like he somehow canceled my desire to complain. "The patient needs a bath, Gemma, then help her into pajamas. She is dehydrated but she is still on a hunger strike. The legal team said we can't start an IV for several days. Until then, I'll leave her in your capable hands." He said, sounding utterly confident in my abilities. "I'll be close by if you have any problems." I nodded. "Thank you, Director." I wondered how this woman could announce she was on a hunger strike with that gag in her mouth. I watched him leave, walking up the stairs, giving us some privacy as I helped this woman into her pajamas.Wetting the first cloth, I squeezed a small amount of soap onto it and starting wiping her forehead and face. The straps of her gag was digging into her cheeks. This wasn't right. Something was going on here that I wasn't being told.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content17"></a>Leaning over, I whispered, "I don't know if you can hear me, but we want to help you." The woman made some pitiful moaning sounds from behind the gag. I got angry, no patient, no matter what they were accused of, didn't deserve this kind of treatment. "Can you hear me?" I asked, her eyes were glassy beneath her mask. Mask? What was going on? I stepped back, seeing the whole patient, not just the straitjacket and gag.<br />Her long legs were encased in nude tights, the muscle tone looked healthy. The mask looked familiar..."Oh my God!" I whispered. 'It can't be her.' I told myself. I had to think, I ran the cloth through her dark hair. She looked pale and weak, her eyes darted back and forth, looking at me, then at the walls and ceiling. Mild disorientation, I thought. I needed answers. Looking over my shoulder, I saw no one. I was scared but didn't know why. "If I take out the gag, you won't bite or scream, right?"Her eyes focused on me. I could see she was suffering and scared. Her head shook three times. It was hard to tell, but I thought she was trembling. "Ok, but talk quietly, if we're caught like this, we're both in trouble." I said, looking over my shoulder again. I took a deep breath, praying fast and hard. Then I reached behind the woman's head and started unbuckling the strap.<br />I knew who she was but I couldn't believe it. I rented a finished basement from a single mother in Meadowbrook. She had an 7 year old daughter who was a huge fan of White Owl. Anytime a picture or story was published about her, little Brooke would save it. I did some babysitting with her a few times, so I saw her White Owl collection quite frequently and knew what she looked like. Somehow, White Owl was now an inmate at Meadowbrook. If the charges against her were true, then I was putting my own life, as well as others, in grave jeopardy. But if she was being held against her will, then she needed my help. I was certain she was drugged. "If this hurts, I'm sorry. But these are really tight." I apologized as I pulled the buckle against her neck.<br />She winced, her eyes squeezing tight as the stiff buckle gave way and I pulled the strap away from the buckle. "Ok, I'm going to pull it from your mouth. Your jaws are going to hurt. Are you ready?" Our eyes met, she nodded once. "Ok, here we go." I said, gently pulling the hard red ball from behind her teeth, her jaws painfully distended as I worked the ball free. She made a "Foooo!" sound as the ball was removed. She licked her lips, I was alarmed to see how dry they looked. I looked around, there wasn't a sink or fountain here.<br />That was illegal, how was she supposed to get fluids? "Shhh, not so loud!" I hiss at her, looking over my shoulder again. Thankfully, no one was coming. "Th..thank you..." She whispered to me. I smiled at her. I dabbed the clean cloth in the water, starting dabbing her dry lips. "I'll get something to drink as soon as we get out of here, whoever you are." I whispered. "I'm White Owl--you have to believe me..." I dabbed her lips again. "Ok fine, you're White Owl. But I heard what you did to those guards. I thought White Owl didn't kill." I was suddenly confused, hesitant about my actions. Her face was hidden beneath a mask to hide her identity. Granted, this woman looked like White Owl, but there was that magazine that claimed to have her pictures...I stepped back from her, unsure of what to do next. I could claim that I took the gag out because I thought her breathing was labored."I didn't kill anyone..those reports are fraudulent." She stated matter of factly. "Can you prove that?" I asked. "Not from this cell." She answered. "The sheriff says he has video of the whole thing." I replied, thinking of all the stories I had heard about the attack. "Have you seen them? Sheriff Clayton would be the first to show them to Jackie Marks if he could get his ugly face on TV."<br />Jackie Marks was a tabloid-type reporter that would kill to get that footage. "That they haven't been on TV yet means they're being edited" She went on. It made sense, with enough time and equipment, you could alter a video to show anything... "No one's seem them. From what I've heard, he's keeping them under lock and key so no one can get them." I told her. "That's a great story." She licked her lips, I wetted them, wishing I had a bottle of water. "Thank you..." "Gemma, Gemma Laurence." I said, introducing myself.<br />"But have you heard anything about an investigation? Have I been Mirandized? Have I seen an attorney?" "I haven't heard about any investigation, but I work a lot and don't watch a lot of news. This is my first visit here. I have no idea." "I've been here for 22 plus days and this is the first nurse I've seen?" "22 days? Who told you that?" I asked. "Lacombe. He's been giving me shots of something, I don't know what." "White Owl, you've been here 2, 3 days at most." I answered, a million thoughts, none of them pleasant went through my mind. We weren't whispering now we were both trying to figure out what was going on."Can you walk? We're getting out of here." I asked. She nodded, smiling. I laid her bed flat, then undid the chains, reaching for the crotchstrap. "God, this is is too tight." "Tell me about it!" White Owl replied. I started pulling the strap out of the buckle when I heard a voice behind me. "Gemma dear. Please step away from the inmate." It was Lacombe! I looked at White Owl, she nodded. I did "Good, turn around please." He said evenly. I did, he had a gun in his hand. "Would you care to explain your actions, Nurse Laurence?" "Explain why you need a gun, Director." I said. "Slide your PDA to me." He ordered.<br />The predatory look was back in his face and it scared me. I did so, then I glanced over my shoulder at White Owl, waiting for her to do something. "Don't waste your time. White Owl isn't bulletproof. And besides, I've nullified her powers." He said smugly. "What do you mean? What did you do to me?" White Owl yelled. I heard her moving on the bed, then she cried out in pain. "You don't remember, White Owl. But I hypnotized you. The gist is that the more of your strength you try to use, the more pain you'll feel." "Somnos!" White Owl said. I had no idea what that meant. "Very good, my lovely captive. But before we get any further..."<br />He pulled out his own PDA while keeping us covered, typed with one hand, then pocketed it. "We need to make you secure, Gemma. Don't take it personally." "If you hurt her, Somnos, I promise you'll pay dearly." White Owl warned. "And what will you do, White Owl? And besides, Gemma is worth more alive." I stared at him, my mouth dropping open. "What?" I asked. "You'll find out in a few days, my dear." Lacombe/Somnos said smugly. There was a clattering behind him. I felt my face going pale as I saw Forbes and another man behind him, carrying a stretcher down the narrow stairway. No one said anything, I heard White Owl moaning and crying out as she tried to use her strength."That was fast, gentlemen, thank you. Set it up beside White Owl and make sure she can see everything.." I felt an icy ball of fear in my stomach. The duo unfolded the stretcher and rolled it two feet from White Owl's bed. "Now Gemma, if you'll be so kind as to remove your shoes and uniform."<br />The three men stared at me and I suddenly felt very small. "Somnos, don't do this!" White Owl warned. "If you don't Gemma, then my two friends will do nasty things to your heroine. You have 10 seconds." Forbes and his partner were leering. There was only one way out and it was blocked. "Five seconds, Gemma. Four, Three, Two..." "Alright!" I yelled. My heart was racing as I kicked off my shoes, then reached behind me, unzipping my white uniform and sliding it slowly, reluctantly, down over my body. Forbes whistled loudly. Everything seemed to go into slow motion, I wasn't aware of time, just the eyes that stared at me. "The slip too, my dear." Closing my eyes, I lowered the straps over my shoulders and the slip fell to the floor around my ankles."Quite lovely, Gemma." Somnos/Lacombe said. I blushed. "Now lay on the stretcher." He ordered. I was only in my bra and panties as I sat on the thin mattress, bringing my legs up and laying on my back. I tried to think of a way out of this. Some bit of reason to make these men see the wrongness of their actions. But I saw the three approach me and I shivered. Forbes had a pair of leather restraints in his hands and his partner had another pair. "If you resist at all, White Owl will suffer." I could hear her fighting, trying to escape before the pain got too great.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_6"></a>"Quite lovely, Gemma." Somnos/Lacombe said. I blushed. "Now lay on the stretcher." He ordered. I was only in my bra and panties as I sat on the thin mattress, bringing my legs up and laying on my back. I tried to think of a way out of this. Some bit of reason to make these men see the wrongness of their actions. But I saw the three approach me and I shivered. Forbes had a pair of leather restraints in his hands and his partner had another pair. "If you resist at all, White Owl will suffer." I could hear her fighting, trying to escape before the pain got too great.Forbes grabbed my wrists, pulled them up to the corners of the stretcher. I felt the thick leather wrapped around my wrists, then attached to the upper corners while the other pulled my legs apart, fastening my ankles to the lower corners. I choked back a sob as I felt my control over my body robbed from me. I felt the cotton fabric of the mattress cover against my back as the cool air in the cell blew against my exposed skin. I shivered again, not just from the cold as the men stared down at me, exposed and vulnerable. I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat. White Owl cried out again, loudly, as she fought to free herself. I wondered how much pain could she take?Forbes moved toward the right side of the stretcher, his hand reaching down for my body. At that moment, every Wonder Woman story flooded into my mind. Even if she was in danger, she was brave and defiant. Looking at that pervert straight in the eye, I stared at him, forcing my fear away and, despite everything that had just happened, I snarled. "You can look, but don't you dare touch. I bite." Forbes' hand actually stopped it's motion and he looked at me, obviously shocked (I was too, for that matter.) But he gave me a wicked grin and I watched helplessly as his hand descended again toward my chest. My mouth went dry as I felt his fingers touch my bra cup...<br /><a name="cg_msg_content18"></a>I closed my eyes, steeling myself for whatever would happen next. But from my left, where White Owl lay, I heard the most wonderful sound: ripping cloth! "She's getting loose!" Someone, I think it was Forbes, cried out. The hand that was so close to molesting me was gone now. And as I opened my eyes, I saw White Owl begin to float off the bed, flashes of white cloth appearing from rents in her straitjacket.<br />But from the expression on her face, I could tell White Owl was in agony, but still she fought as Forbes reached for her leg, now 2 feet off her bed. As a result, she kicked, his head snapped backwards, several teeth went flying. he fell like his bones had dissolved.His partner had moved to the head of her bed, he grabbed her shoulders, trying to shove her back down. "Hold her!" Somnos/Lacombe yelled, reaching into his jacket pocket. "Look out!" I yelled to White Owl. He came to me, his left hand descended covered my mouth. I twisted my head frantically, trying to shake his hand off, but it stayed put.<br />My limbs flailed, rattling the frame of the stretcher, but the restraints held.. "White Owl!" Somnos/Lacombe yelled, he had an odd looking thing in his hand, oddly, I wondered where his gun was. I needed air, My eyes were wide, out of the corner of my vision, I saw White Owl look in my direction, the other man, I saw the name "Logan" on his name badge, fighting to get her on her bed. But White Owl was fighting, even though tears were running down her face. How much pain did it take to make a heroine cry?But even as White Owl looked out way, I saw a flash from Somnos/Lacombe's device. "You will not move." he called out. For a brief instant, I quit struggling. He pulled his hand back. But White Owl was frozen and Logan shoved her hard to the bed. "White Owl?" I called out. "She can't move, my dear. He pointed the thing at me I saw a bright white flash and he said in a commanding voice. "Black out." I knew nothing, as a white fog filled my consciousness.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_01"></a>My vision, my hearing, even my sense of smell and the awareness of my own body fled. I don't know how long I was away. But when I became aware again, I heard a voice calling me. It was White Owl and she sounded tired. "I'm here...I think." I felt funny, disconnected from my body. Sort of like coming down from a major high. "You ok?" I asked. I was very thirsty. "This isn't the Hilton, but I'm ok under the circumstances." She replied. I was still restrained and I craned my head to see White Owl and I gasped.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_11"></a>She had been wrapped in chains. A loop was cinched around her throat, then crossed between her breasts and wrapped under them, pinning her arms, which had, from what I could see, was behind her back. More chains were wrapped around her waist and pulled between her legs. Yet more chain was wrapped around her thighs above her knees and ankles. She looked very uncomfortable. I could only imagine how much.I licked my lips, wishing for a gallon of water. "What happened? What was that thing he used on us?" I asked. "Somnos called it a Mesmer..." "Who is this Somnos?" I interrupted. "He was someone I thought was dead." She went on to explain how he was a skilled hypnotist who used his abilities to manipulate and rob his clients. "He had me under his spell. He ordered me to kill an private investigator, fortunately, my moral code against killing kept me from fulfilling he orders. After I caught him, he was extradited to France, where he was tried and convicted of murdering his wife. He was supposed to get a life sentence, but he escaped. Whoever did his plastic surgery was very good. It not for his voice, I'd never had recognized him."<br />She admitted. I heard her chains rattling. She sighed in frustration. "And the Mesmer?" I asked. "Apparently he discovered a frequency of light that causes a trance state for a few minutes." "So he can hypnotize anyone..." "Yes, I'm sorry you got stuck in this mess. But thank you for helping me and believing me. I'm going to get us out of here." White Owl told me.I pulled at my restraints again, feeling the fear coming back. I hated losing control of my body, the looks on Forbes and Logan's faces as I undressed in front of them. I was cold. If not for White Owl, I could only imagine what they would have done to me. And Somnos/Lacombe just watched it happen. "Dr. Lacombe...I mean Somnos, runs this place...Oh my God!" "What's wrong? White Owl asked me "The director, Dr. Fournier had some sort of a psychotic episode. Lacombe, I mean Somnos was in there with him when it happened. If he did anything to hurt Dr. Fournier..." I started to cry. I didn't want to, not in front of White Owl, but the man that I loved was in a cell, tranquilized and in restraints. I stopped, realizing what came into my consciousness."Gemma, you're going to be alright." She said. "It's not that, I just realized something, that's all." I swallowed, forcing myself to be calm. "And what exactly did you realize?" Somnos/Lacombe asked, sliding the gate open. He wasn't alone. Sheriff Randall Clayton was right behind him, along with 3 other men, all wearing dark suits, ties and sunglasses, marched in a line behind them. I felt myself blushing, hating how exposed I was to them. "I told you Sheriff, she's restrained." Somnos said proudly. "And has a girlfriend." Clayton replied, looking down at me. He reached down and stroked the inside of my open thigh. I glared at him. "Who is she?" He asked, his hand rubbing gently. I squirmed, twisting my torso to shake his hand free. "She's one of our nurses. Gemma Laurence." How much are you asking for her?" He asked as if ordering a sandwich from the deli. "Why don't we ask Mr. Hedison." Somnos said."Fair enough." Clayton said, stepping back while the last man in the procession came up to me. He bent over, then undid my right ankle restraint. I tried to kick at him, but he gripped my ankle and squeezed it. "You will be damaged if you repeat that." He said in a monotone. I bit my lip as the pain in my ankle increased. "I'm sorry!" I yelled.<br />The pressure lessened, but his grip was still strong on my ankle. He lifted it, my leg nearly vertical as his free hand beginning an examination of my leg, from the sole of my foot to the hip. "Good muscle tone, adequate reflexes, sound bone structure." He lowered it quickly and restrained it again. He repeated the same on the left ankle, then my arms. He even ran his fingers through my hair, but there was no emotion, no passion. I was a slab of meat to him.<br />Even as he probed my breasts, ran his hands down my spine, he looked at me as if I was a thing. I hated him, hated his touch, hated his running commentary of my body. I choked back a sob, my fists clenched. He even pulled a penlight from inside his jacket, pushed the sides of my jaw till I opened my mouth. "Two fillings, otherwise her teeth are in fine shape." He withdrew the light, released my jaw. But he put his hand on my chin, tilted my head back and to the right and left, the light shining in my ears. His fingers stroked my cheeks. "Her ears are fine, her complexion is very good. You said she was a nurse? Hedison asked Somnos. "Yes, she's an RN., she's 27. But she did have a prescription drug problem, but she's been clean for 2 years." He replied.<br />Hedison gave me one last head to toe look before replying, "$300,000 minimum, although I'd estimate her actual selling price would probably be in the 400,000 to 425,000 dollar range. Also, start her on her habit again. I assume pain pills?" Somnos nodded. "That will make her easier to control down the line." "No, please. I can't...." I felt my composure slipping, remembering the things I had done to get pills before, recalling the shame of my actions of those dark days. I closed my eyes, despairing at my coming future. My thoughts raced uncontrolled through my mind.Selling price? $300,000? What were they talking about? "Not a bad price for a girl that pretty." Clayton remarked. "When you sell her, let me know, I'll put in a bid." I stared at him, shocked. My mind went blank. 'They're going to sell me!' I thought. Dark, lurid images filled my mind, comic book images of being kept in a cell, chained and drugged filled my imagination.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_21"></a><a name="lw_1263029945_31"></a><a name="lw_1263029945_41"></a>I went insane, screaming and pulling at the restraints till one of the men in suits bent over, grabbed my head and covered my mouth and nose with his hand. Instantly, my air was cut off! "Listen sweetie. I hate screaming women. They upset me. If you want to breathe again, shut up and relax before you make me do something to you that you'll regret." My heart was beating like a jackhammer, his eyes were staring into mine like a cobra staring at a mouse. I needed air, I nodded slightly. his hand pulled back slowly. I drew in a panting breath, then another. "It's me you want, let Gemma go!" White Owl demanded. She pulled at the chains till the pain cut in, she let a small moan escape her lips. At that point, I knew we were doomed. White Owl couldn't escape. They were going to sell us to the highest bidder! White Slavery, here in Meadowbrook. I wanted to scream, my mind demanded it, to release my fear and anguish but I didn't dare.Clayton sauntered over to White Owl. I wanted at gun, I'd kill him, all these monsters. White Owl was trapped and helpless. "Hi White Owl, long time no see." I looked over at them. He had a handful of her dark hair. "Clayton, now I understand what's going on, you found a new fool to use. But I never thought you'd sink to human trafficking. That's low, even for you." She grunted as he pulled her hair. "Actually White Owl, I don't do trafficking, too much infrastructure, too many people to monitor and it's too hard to cover up in a small town. But I am going to sell you, it's too bad for this pretty little nurse that she got involved. But how does that old saying go? If you want to make omelets, you have to break a few eggs" He looked at me and winked. I felt sick. "Clayton, if you harm her, you will pay dearly for it, I promise you." White Owl warned. "And just how will you to that, birdie?" "Just wait!" she said as he pulled her to a seating position by her hair.It happened so fast that I almost missed it. His left hand holding her hair, his right hand made a fist and he punched her square in the jaw. She cried out but couldn't fall over due to his hand holding her hair. "Stop him!" Hedison yelled. His two men ran over, grabbed his arms and pulled him away, but not before getting a second punch in. White Owl slumped as her hair was released. She lay on her back, limp, I saw a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth, her eyes closed. "Get him out of here!" Hedison yelled, moving to White Owl, pulling out his light and checking her pupils, then her face. "Is she alright?" I asked. "Yes, no concussion, no permanent facial damage." "Gee, I'm so happy that you're so concerned." He looked at me like I was a 2 year old, "All I care about is that's she looks good for the sale." I stared at him, completely shocked at his attitude.Somnos came to me, a glass of water in his right hand and something in his left. "I have this for you. 40 mg of Oxycontin." "Please, doctor. Don't do this!" I pulled at the restraints in vain as he bent over. I was frantic, I knew what that pill would do to me. I clamped my jaws as tight as I could as he held the pill to my lips.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content19"></a>I was shaking my head rapidly, struggling maniacally. "Hold her nose, please." He said to Hedison. The monster grabbed the back of my head with his right hand, holding it still while pinching my nose shut with his left. I stared at them, my eyes wide, pleading with them. They were patient, they could afford to be. They knew as soon as I opened my mouth to breathe, Somnos would give me the pill. I felt tears forming, I was trapped now, it was no use fighting them.<br />My captors held all the cards, had all the control. As my breath ran out, I opened my mouth, drew in a breath. Instantly I felt the pill on my tongue and then cup was tipped into my mouth, the water flowing, washing it into my stomach. Hedison put his hand on my lips, making sure I didn't spit it out, but it was too late, I had already swallowed it. In a few minutes, I wouldn't care about anything.But when I came down, I knew I would want another pill. As mentally and physically tormented as I was, the warm numbness of the Oxycontin would provide release. And after my long abstinence, the pill would hit me like a hammer. I was crying. Hedison pulled back his hand, scowled at me. "You are weak." He turned, walking up the steps. Somnos was there with us, watching intently. I fought the restraints, short violent pulls that did nothing.<br />A few minutes passed, then I felt a warmness in my stomach. "NO!" I screamed, knowing the pill was dissolving, starting to spread through my bloodstream. More time passed, the warmth spread through my body. I quit struggling, I felt content, safe. I didn't care anymore, I wasn't afraid, wasn't happy. I was just...there. Time ceased to exist as my thoughts receded into a pink cloud of narcotic stupor. I was getting sleepy, I heard music playing in my mind, then the notes became distorted, far away. I was floating in a warm ocean of pink, I had no feelings, no sense of humanity. I was part of everything as my eyes closed, my body limp.Chaos! Utter, unmitigated chaos. Things had gone very, very bad. White Owl had nearly escaped, I had a nurse who now had to disappear without questions being asked. Forbes was in the infirmary with a concussion and a fractured jaw courtesy of White Owl. Clayton had physically assaulted White Owl in front of the buyers. The intricate plan I had to ruin White Owl's mind was in itself ruined. All Forbes had to do was give a shot of Ibogaine to her. Instead, he felt her up, forgetting that her boosted immune system would burn through any drug very fast. A $40,000 straitjacket, another $10,000 for the wireless EKG system, never mind the almost 12 million dollars for her cell. It was all wasted because of one man's sexual desires.I should have taken more time to find the special personnel. That much is clear now. but hindsight is 20/20. Now I had to figure out how to fix this mess, White Owl knew who I was and that I was conspiring with Clayton to sell her. Any attempt now to convince White Owl of her murder charges and delusional state had absolutely zero chance of working. Hedison had called me two hours earlier, privately letting my know he was not pleased with the situation. He thought Clayton was a boorish thug. I agreed with him, but I intimated that I was hired to care for White Owl, Clayton was the man in charge. I thought he believed it.<br />He also let me know that he had contacted his bosses and they decided that if White Owl was not ready for sale in three days, they would leave without her. But they would take Gemma as a "consolation prize" to let Clayton know there was no hard feelings. I could imagine his reaction to that and me caught in the middle of two hostile parties.Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!White Owl was sedated again, no doubt having splendid hallucinations. I had dosed her about 1 minute after I gave the Oxycontin to Gemma. Both women were now controlled. I knew Gemma had family, albeit distant. Her files said she hadn't spoken to her parents since she went into rehab. But that didn't mean Gemma vanishing wouldn't create questions. As soon as this was over, I would have to vanish. I hated running, it meant that I was always on the defensive, always looking over my shoulder. That was no way for me live. I was too smart, too cunning to live like a rabbit in a field of wolves.I had to turn this around, make all this work to my advantage. But I needed time, and that was something I had very little of. Hedison and his people were nervous. They wanted Owl ruined quickly now. I wasn't sure how. Certainly, I could give her a 200 cc dose of Ibogaine and fry half the synapses in her brain. But I wasn't sure that they wouldn't regenerate. In a normal human, brain damage was final. But there were metahumans who could recover from almost any physical damage. And I wasn't betting against White Owl being in that category. That's why I was working at altering her sense of reality, make her doubt her own perceptions. Once I did that, White Owl would defeat her own mind, once that occurred, I could program her into believing anything.And what was so maddening was that I was making progress. I even had her believing in Tribolizine, a drug that didn't even exist! But now, it was all ruined. And now she had Gemma to protect, that would give her even more resolve to resist. I looked down at Gemma, tracing her face with my hand. She was incredibly beautiful. I was concerned with her breathing, it was only 7 respiration's per minute. I had given her too much Oxycontin. Another mistake. If she died, White Owl could fly into a rage that could override her pain suggestion.And if that happened, I wanted to be very, very far away. I knew all too well what her anger looked like and it was not pleasant. Taking an oxygen tank from the supply closet, I slipped the mask over Gemma's pretty face and turned the valve. Pure oxygen flowed into her lungs. Soon her breathing was up to 12 per minute. I had to think now, figure my next step.Then I realized my problem. I was making things too complicated. I needed to prepare White Owl for sale. That was it. I'd get half the profits from her sale and I leave the country forever. Shipping and delivery was not my problem, preparation was. As for Gemma's reasons for disappearing, that's not my concern. As long as Gemma's buyers kept her in Oxycontin, she'd do whatever they asked of her. I saw her arrest record, Gemma may look like a nurse, but she had done some degrading things to feed her habit. And if Clayton bought her, I could only imagine what he'd make her do for her next pill. It was a pity, Gemma had conquered something very few people had done. Now because of White Owl, she had fallen back into her self made dungeon. But no one ever said the universe was fair.<br /><a name="lw_1263029945_02"></a>I IM'd Logan, giving him a list of drugs to get from the pharmacy. If Hedison wanted White Owl ready sooner, I could accommodate him. It probably wouldn't be permanent, but by the time White Owl was out of the country and in other hands, I'd be in Europe, starting over again. And if White Owl recovered and escaped, then Hedison's group would come for Clayton for revenge.That is, if White Owl didn't get him first.Logan came down with a small box of drugs. I had requested psychotropics, hallucinogenics, barbiturates, anything that caused an adverse mental reaction. White Owl would be a wreck for days, maybe weeks. There was a small chance that she'd recover, but as I said before, by the time that happened, I'd halfway around the world..I started filling syringes, jabbing them into her right arm. As expected, White Owl began seizing, her chains rattling, tightening around her throat, pulling into her crotch. I could almost smell her neurons burning. I took the ballgag, slid it into place to protect her from biting her tongue or lips. Her breathing increased and decreased dramatically, her heart rate did the same, depending on the drug I gave. I found myself smiling as I watched White Owl writhe and suffer.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content20"></a>"What...are...you...doing?" Gemma asked weakly from behind the oxygen mask. "Revenge, my dear Gemma, is a dish best served cold." I said. "You...bastard!" Her voice was stronger so I took off the mask and shut off the oxygen. "Be careful, my dear. Make me angry and you won't get your pill. I bet you want it, don't you?" Gemma told me where to stuff the pill. "Fair enough, I'll be back in a few hours, I know what you used to do for your fix. I don't think it's unreasonable to want that same...transaction again." "I'd rather die!" Gemma said defiantly. "I'm sure you say that now. But in a few hours, a day at most, when your addiction screams for it's need. You'll sing a different tune. But since I don't want you so upset, here."<br />I took an Oxycontin, slipped it into her mouth, my hand over her soft lips. There was no water this time, but by the expression on her face, the bitter pill dissolved on her tongue and she swallowed reflexively. She glared at me, but I didn't care as I pulled my hand back. I smiled at her as she pulled at the straps that held her. "Go ahead and struggle, get your heart rate up, make it work faster, my dear."It didn't take long for her head to start rolling back and forth slowly, her eyelids fluttering. Her body relaxed, her breathing slowing. I heard White Owl ratting her chains, moaning, I turned around, checked her pupils. They were huge, unseeing, her pulse was erratic, she was perspiring, her skin cool. "Who's in control now, White Owl?" I asked, feeling a smile on my face.I had arranged to have an EEG brought down here. It was an oversight I made earlier. How could I not have realized that I needed to know how this heroine's mind was working?. Now that mistake was remedied. I could see White Owl's brain activity and the show her brain was putting on. Her brain waves were dancing like a seismograph mounted on a bed of jello. The readings were off the scale, completely contradictory. If White Owl could speak, she would sound deranged, but speech was beyond her for the time being. I was happy despite the previous events.Gemma was still out, a cute little smile on her face. She was wearing the most feminine lingerie, white, lacy and most flattering. I stroked her stomach, enjoying the softness of her skin, she never moved. I picked up my phone, called Hedison, telling him that White Owl was mentally neutralized. He sounded pleased, then I called Clayton, gave him the same message. Gemma never came into the conversation. He said he would bring Hedison and his ilk back to the asylum, they would bring some video cameras to connect up to our computer network.<br />Then secure messages would be sent to her buyers and one hour later, the auction for White Owl would begin. They had originally planned the auction for next week, but since the reversal of our original plans and White Owl's current mental condition, Hedison thought it prudent to get the process started before anything else could go wrong. I couldn't agree more. After hanging up, I made another call, someone in Queen City who owned a small aircraft charter service. I told him to start getting a plane ready. As soon as received I my share of White Owl's proceeds, I was leaving.Yes, I know I said previously that I hated running. But in this case, I had good reasons to. First, Clayton was almost pathologically greedy. If we did sell White Owl, I would almost certainly be a liability, one who knew too much and, more importantly, had half of a sizable fortune. No, Clayton would have me killed, both to silence me and take my half of the profit of White Owl's and Gemma's sale.Secondly, I wanted to be half a world away when my fortunes expanded considerably. I would make a lot of people angry with me so seclusion and invisibility would be vital.It didn't take long for Clayton, Hedison and his cronies to arrive with a case of camera equipment in Halliburton cases. I was impressed as they quickly tied their secure computers into the asylum network, attached small high definition cameras to the computers and booted everything up. The first image broadcasted over the secure network was the chains crisscrossing White Owl's breasts, the silver accenting her white costume perfectly, the beads of perspiration beading on the metal.Hedison took a microphone as the camera panned back, framing White Owl's chest and face. "Yes my friends, what you are seeing is the heroine from Queen City, the infamous White Owl. As you can see, she is undamaged save her mind, which I can assure you, is severely damaged by potent doses of mind altering drugs. She'll never play chess with whatever buyer is lucky enough to purchase her. But I doubt that her mind is what you would like to play with." He gave the heroine a wink and a leer. It was a very different role from the man who gave Gemma such a dispassionate buyers inspection.The camera started at her head, slowly scanning down her body, slowing on the chain looped tightly around her throat, her arms behind her back, the chains digging into her skin. Then it panned down her torso, showing her narrow waist, her spectacular hips and legs. The camera zoomed in on the chain that dug into her womanhood, the image so clear that the mysterious, bulletproof fabric of her uniform was magnified, showing the structure of the cloth. If Clayton was smart, he'd have removed that uniform and sold it separately. I bet there were a lot of groups that would be very interested in a thin cloth that was bulletproof. In certain circles, that uniform would be worth more than she was.It was a mistake that I wouldn't mention to Clayton, perhaps someone else would later, or after some party reproduced the cloth and started selling it. That loss of profit would no doubt infuriate Clayton, perhaps make him lose face in the eyes of some he'd wish to deal with in the future. Then the message came from a woman in India: "Prove that this is indeed White Owl. " The shorter of Hedison's men opened a small case, producing White Owl's utility belt, displaying it almost proudly. The the other crony pulled out a 10mm Glock pistol, chambered a round, flipped off the safety and fired into White Owl's stomach from 2 feet away. She groaned at the impact, but the round clanged as it hit the floor. He picked it up, rotated it slowly under a lens. One end was mushroomed as if hit by a hammer. It was impressive."I bid 7 million." the Indian woman said. I could see her in a monitor. She appeared to be in her late 40's. Her hair pulled back, a purple sari draping her thin figure. "I hear 7 million from Madam Chandra." Hedison said. "Do I hear 8?" "8 million." A man with a Russian accent said quickly. "Nine million." An Arab said, dressed in the traditional Thoub and Ogal. "12 million!" A man with a Spanish accent added. "12 million dollars going once, twice..." "15 million." A man with an French accent interjected. "Fifteen million dollars. Going once, going twice...Sold to Monsieur Roux for 15 million dollars. Congratulations." Hedison said, smiling.<br />"And for an extra bonus, we have an American woman, 28 years old and a Registered Nurse. She has an Oxycontin habit but is otherwise healthy. Notice the girl-next-door face combined with the cheerleader body. She'll be a worthy addition to anyone's collection. I personally inspected her body thoroughly and found no defects. She'll provide much pleasure to her new owner. I start the bidding at $400,000." Roux started the bid at $400,000. Chandra went to $425,000. The Arab bid 500,000 after Hedison opened Gemma's bra. "I assure you, sheik. They are 100 percent real." Hedison said.A few seconds later, the Arab was the proud owner of a beautiful, drug addicted nurse. In the next few minutes, the payment's went into the proper accounts. My 7.5 million went to the Bank of Kuwait account I had set up a few weeks before. As each man entered their bank information into their laptops, I repressed a smile as Hedison's men took down their equipment, storing it expertly in their cases. Hedison spoke into the last camera. "White Owl and Gemma will be delivered via my private jet. I will meet you both in Marseilles in 2 days. Monsieur Roux, Sheik, I bid you adieu." He shut off the camera, then looked at his captives and gave a feral smile<br /><a name="cg_msg_content21"></a>I knew Hedison and his ilk used electronic transfers for their purchases. Anonymous and almost impossible to follow, it was ideal for moving large amounts of cash quickly and covertly. But to transfer their data, they had no use the asylum computer network. A network that I controlled, a network, that as I watched, was copying websites, usernames and passwords. In an hour, I'd be stealing every cent of that $15,250,000 and hiding it overseas.But first, I had to deal with Clayton, Hedison and his cronies. As the men congratulated each other, feeling the captive's bodies, exulting in their helplessness, I excused myself, went to the storage room, picked up my camera case and returned to the celebrating group. I assembled my camera, making sure my flash was fully charged."Gentleman, let me be the first to congratulate you on your magnificent achievement. White Owl has been conquered! I applaud you, sirs. In celebration, would you pose for a few photographs as a memento of your success?" "Hell yeah, I like that idea. Hedison, why don't you and your guys form a line over here." He pointed to a spot 3 feet from Gemma's stretcher. Dutifully, they lined up. I was surprised, one would imagine that Hedison was walking around free because no one knew what he looked like. But hubris is a powerful foe. And giving into that foe would cost him dearly.As Clayton went to the end of the line, I focused on the middle of the group. Double checking the flash, it was on maximum. "Smile gentlemen." I said. They did. I snapped the shutter, the Mesmer flared brightly. The four men stared blankly. "They're going to kill you." I said simply.It was a devious suggestion. As I expected, Clayton drew his service pistol, fired point blank at Hedison. He fell, a hole where his heart used to be. The sound of the gunshot was horrific in the cell. Hedison's man, the tallest of the two, drew a silenced Beretta pistol, fired once into Clayton's head, he fell, the back of his skull bleeding profusely. The second man drew his silenced pistol from inside his coat, he looked angrily at his partner. Both men fired at the nearly the same instant. Both men fell, blood running from chest wounds. They weren't dead, but would be soon enough.But what to do with the captives? I called my man at the airport, asked him if there was enough room for two more passengers. He said yes, but that meant at least 2 fuel stops. I said that would be fine and hung up. I took Hedison's laptop, accessed the asylum network, wrote down his account info and passwords and logged into his bank. I was amazed how much he had. I transferred 45 million dollars to my Kuwait Bank account, leaving the remaining 15 million intact. I could live quite comfortably with that much money. But Clayton's laptop I would keep for myself. From our conversations, I knew he had a lot of info on a lot of people. It was why he wasn't in prison or worse. If he was ever arrested, the dirty laundry of his enemies would be exposed to the world. And now that Clayton was dead, he had no need for that data. But I may someday.I looked at White Owl, her EEG readings very erratic, Gemma was breathing softly, her breasts rising and falling gracefully as her lungs filled and emptied. I went to White Owl, she was totally helpless. I could do anything I wanted to. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a key ring, walked to White Owl. I slapped her face gently, trying to rouse her. But she was trapped deep in her mind. It was doubtful she even felt my touch. That was fine. I unlocked her chains, freeing her stunning body from her bonds. I stroked her gently, caressing her face before placing my hands on the shoulder straps of her leotard. I started to pull them down, revealing her soft shoulders, White Owl's arms now pinned to her sides.Then we weren't alone. I don't know where she came from. I spun around to see. It was a woman. She was tall, impressive looking. There was a helmet on her head, it reminded of the ones I saw in Spartacus and Ben Hur. Roman helmets, but much more ornate...No, that was impossible! The shield in her left arm was huge, there was a long, shiny double edged sword in her right. A metal breastplate covered her torso and the anger in her eyes were palpable. "Step away from my herald, cowardly dog!"<br />The tone in her voice was full of menace. Her presence was terrifying! She gave off an aura of utter power and I found myself stepping away without a thought. "Who...who are you?" I asked, my voice was trembling! I had never known the fear I felt at that moment. Even falling through the sky as White Owl dropped me was nothing compared to the terror I knew at that moment. "I am Goddess Athena. White Owl is my herald. You will not harm her further." "That's not possible! You are a myth!" I exclaimed, backing further away from this presence. My heart was pounding. She was giving off a glow of something...radiant energy that made me feel like an ant.She moved to White Owl, but I never saw her legs move. She pulled her straps back over her shoulder and glared at me. "Your potions have injured her. Your spells have crippled her. I will heal her. Interfere and I will cut you down where you stand." The radiance flared, I closed my eyes, shielding my face with my arms.It only took a few seconds, but I heard White Owl say weakly. "My goddess!" The flare subsided. I lowered my arms carefully to see White Owl bowing to Athena! Gently, she lifted White Owl. "Stand my child. You are healed. Who is this woman?" She looked at Gemma. "She is a friend, she tried to help me but was captured. She needs help. That man...poisoned her. He can control your mind, make you do things..." Her voice trailed off. Athena looked at at Gemma, then placed her hands on Gemma's temples. "So much pain, yet so much goodness and strength." She spoke gently to Gemma. "Return and be free." Then Athena looked at me, her eyes becoming flame. "Your cruelty is an offense to me." Athena said, her voice rumbling. "You will harm no one, ever again. Look into my eyes, conjurer!" I looked, I stared. I couldn't help myself.The fire reached out, I felt agony consume me, my eyes burned, my mouth felt seared as the flame flared into absolute brightness. Then I saw only darkness and knew nothing.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content22"></a>I woke up in sunlight, but I couldn't see it. I felt it's warmth but saw darkness. I placed my hands to my eyes. Instead of feeling my eyeballs, I felt nothing! I had no eyes! I was blind! I tried to scream, call for help, but my mouth felt different. I tried to feel inside with my tongue but it wouldn't move. Then I realized why: My tongue was gone! I was blind, couldn't speak. "This is a good spot for you. Many will take pity on you." There was hands on my arms, guiding me. "Sit, don't be afraid. You are in Pompeii, a city of goodness and kindness." 'Pompeii?' I tried to speak, but only guttural sounds emerged. The voice was familiar. It was Athena, she was human? Where is this place? Where is White Owl, Gemma? I was helped to sit down, there was a small cushion, the pavement warm under my bare legs."My clothes, where are they?" I tried to ask, but the sounds I made were unintelligible. "You are in beggar's rags. Your finery is gone, you will never see, never speak. You will live on the kindness of others for the rest of your life. You called me a myth, conjurer. Now you will see what a myth can do do you." Athena said. The ground rumbled under me. I went pale as I remembered the fate of Pompeii in 79 AD. "Yes, Vesuvius is about to erupt. If you have any God, appeal for mercy soon. Time is very short."Then I was alone. I could hear people walking around me, the language strange. Someone pressed something hard and round into my hand, said something in a kind tone. The earth rumbled, harder. I heard a scream, then another as the city shook violently. There was an explosion. My ears were filled with a stabbing pain. People were running away, the sounds of footsteps pounding away from me rivaled the shaking of the ground. There was another explosion. Vesuvius was erupting! I couldn't escape, ask for help. But I rose to my feet but was knocked over by someone. I felt feet stepping over me, on me, I couldn't stand. I felt my right tibia break under a stampede as the people screamed in panic. I smelled something like rotten eggs as I cried out in pain, but no one cared, I was pummeled, feeling bones breaking, blood in my nose. The pain was more than anything I ever felt and I tried to scream.Then I heard a roaring sound, the screams of the citizens of Pompeii grew dim as I felt a rush of heat, then something obscenely heavy covering me. I knew from history what that was. It was a pyroclastic flow, a superheated mass of ash and gas that traveled several hundred miles per hour. The smell of rotten eggs was unbearable as a hell wave of heat washed over me. I was burning alive, I remembered the pictures of the victims encased in stone, frozen in place, forever in their death pose. I breathed, but it was fire. My lungs scorched, my throat searing shut. I was on fire, but the heavy layer of ash kept me from moving, I found myself folding into a fetal position as the heat incinerated me from the inside out...Then I was alone. It seemed like this was familiar somehow. I could hear people walking around me, the language strange. Someone pressed something hard and round into my hand, said something in a kind tone. The earth rumbled, harder. I heard a scream, then another as the city shook violently. There was an explosion. My ears were filled with a stabbing pain. People were running away, the sounds of footsteps pounding away from me rivaled the shaking of the ground. There was another explosion. Vesuvius was erupting! I couldn't escape, ask for help. But I rose to my feet but was knocked over by someone. I felt feet stepping over me, on me, I couldn't stand. I felt my right tibia break under a stampede as the people screamed in panic. I smelled something like rotten eggs as I cried out in pain, but no one cared, I was pummeled, feeling bones breaking, blood in my nose. The pain was more than anything I ever felt and I tried to scream.Then I heard a roaring sound, the screams of the citizens of Pompeii grew dim as I felt a rush of heat, then something obscenely heavy covering me. I knew from history what that was. It was a pyroclastic flow, a superheated mass of ash and gas that traveled several hundred miles per hour. The smell of rotten eggs was unbearable as a hell wave of heat washed over me. I was burning alive, I remembered the pictures of the victims encased in stone, frozen in place, forever in their death pose. I breathed, but it was fire. My lungs scorched, my throat searing shut. I was on fire, but the heavy layer of ash kept me from moving, I found myself folding into a fetal position as the heat incinerated me from the inside out...<br /><a name="cg_msg_content23"></a>Then I was alone. I knew this place, but how? I could hear people walking around me, the language strange. Someone pressed something hard and round into my hand, said something in a kind tone. The earth rumbled, harder. I heard a scream, then another as the city shook violently. There was an explosion. My ears were filled with a stabbing pain. People were running away, the sounds of footsteps pounding away from me rivaled the shaking of the ground. There was another explosion. Vesuvius was erupting! I couldn't escape, ask for help. But I rose to my feet but was knocked over by someone. I felt feet stepping over me, on me, I couldn't stand. I felt my right tibia break under a stampede as the people screamed in panic. I smelled something like rotten eggs as I cried out in pain, but no one cared, I was pummeled, feeling bones breaking, blood in my nose. The pain was more than anything I ever felt and I tried to scream.Then I heard a roaring sound, the screams of the citizens of Pompeii grew dim as I felt a rush of heat, then something obscenely heavy covering me. I knew from history what that was. It was a pyroclastic flow, a superheated mass of ash and gas that traveled several hundred miles per hour. The smell of rotten eggs was unbearable as a hell wave of heat washed over me. I was burning alive, I remembered the pictures of the victims encased in stone, frozen in place, forever in their death pose. I breathed, but it was fire. My lungs scorched, my throat searing shut. I was on fire, but the heavy layer of ash kept me from moving, I found myself folding into a fetal position as the heat incinerated me from the inside out...Then I was alone. No, no again! Was this my fate, to endure these minutes for eternity? To die horribly, then relive it over and over? I could hear people walking around me, the language strange. Someone pressed something hard and round into my hand, said something in a kind tone. The earth rumbled, harder. I heard a scream, then another as the city shook violently. There was an explosion. My ears were filled with a stabbing pain. People were running away, the sounds of footsteps pounding away from me rivaled the shaking of the ground. There was another explosion. Vesuvius was erupting! I couldn't escape, ask for help. But I rose to my feet but was knocked over by someone. I felt feet stepping over me, on me, I couldn't stand. I felt my right tibia break under a stampede as the people screamed in panic. I smelled something like rotten eggs as I cried out in pain, but no one cared, I was pummeled, feeling bones breaking, blood in my nose. The pain was more than anything I ever felt and I tried to scream.Then I heard a roaring sound, the screams of the citizens of Pompeii grew dim as I felt a rush of heat, then something obscenely heavy covering me. I knew from history what that was. It was a pyroclastic flow, a superheated mass of ash and gas that traveled several hundred miles per hour. The smell of rotten eggs was unbearable as a hell wave of heat washed over me. I was burning alive, I remembered the pictures of the victims encased in stone, frozen in place, forever in their death pose. I breathed, but it was fire. My lungs scorched, my throat searing shut. I was on fire, but the heavy layer of ash kept me from moving, I found myself folding into a fetal position as the heat incinerated me from the inside out..."God, let me die!" I prayed, but I was in Pompeii again, knowing what would happen, knowing how I would die. It would never end! I screamed incoherently as the coin was pressed into my hand...<br /><a name="cg_msg_content24"></a>"Gemma, can you hear me?" I heard White Owl ask. I opened my eyes slowly, seeing White Owl doing closing my bra. "I'm sorry, it was open." My limbs were free. I felt tears in my eyes. She put her hand on my shoulder. "Gemma, I know how you feel right now. But we're not safe yet. Can you keep yourself calm for a little while longer? "Yes." I choked, then swallowed hard as she released my bonds. I grabbed her, hugging her tight, feeling tears on my cheeks. "Don't move yet." White Owl told me, slowly releasing me.<br />I laid there, resting. my eyes closed. I heard her moving. Then I smelled blood and realized something very bad had happened. "Here are your clothes." White Owl said, handing my uniform to her. I looked at her. She looked tired, but there was determination in her eyes, she wasn't done, not by a long shot. I stood and dressed slowly, hungry and weak, but it had never felt so good to have clothes on in my whole life. I noticed she had her gloves, belt and boots on. I guessed that our buyers wanted her in her complete ensemble. Buyers, I thought with a shudder. This is the 21st century, I was amazed that such things went on. I turned toward the gate, looking at shapes on the floor.I saw sheets covering 4 bodies. I lifted the sheets and found Sheriff Clayton, the guy who examined me and his two goons. "Where's Somnos? I asked her. She gave me a strange look. "It's complicated. But I promise you, he'll never hurt anyone ever again. "But you said you didn't kill." I objected. "I didn't...a friend took care of him for us. I'll explain later."<br />She looked so pensive, then a flash of memory came. "Did that woman take him?" "You saw her? White Owl asked. "Just some flashes. She said something to me...that's it, she said 'Return and be free.' Who was she, she was so beautiful. When she looked at me I felt so safe." "When this is all over, I'll explain everything. But we have to get out of here now." "All right." I told her. White Owl didn't walk to the gate, she flew, gliding gracefully to it. Then she landed, took a grip on the gate and pulled. It came off in her hands with a shriek that grated like nails on a chalkboard. "That felt so good!" White Owl said over her shoulder, a smile on her face. "Stay here, I'll be right back." I nodded, amazed at what I just saw.She glided up the stairs, a butterfly made more noise. It was unreal. A human being flying. I wondered what it felt like, it must be fun. Despite everything, I felt a sense of wonder that made me feel like a little girl again. I wished again, for the millionth time, that I could go back to that innocence and start my life over again. So many mistakes I've made, so many bad choices. I wondered if White Owl had ever been deeply hurt. But she must have, she cared so much, gave so much of herself for strangers. That kind of sacrifice isn't given without a reason.There was a loud thud, a man crying out, then a series of thudding sounds as he bounced down the stairs. It was Logan! The SOB who watched me undress! I could still see his leer as he pulled my legs apart to restrain them. I whirled around, looking for something...There, a pistol on the floor. Must have belonged to one of the goons. But it was mine now! I picked it up. It was cold in my hand, heavier than I thought it would be. But it didn't matter. I felt rage, the need to make him suffer, to make him as afraid as I was. 'Power comes from the barrel of a gun." Mao Tse-tung once said. So I had power now. Logan was at the bottom of the steps, his body twisted awkwardly, a trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead stained his face and shoulder of his uniform. He saw me as I raised the barrel of the pistol, slowly, deliberately. He groaned, stupidly raising a shaking hand as if it would block a bullet. "Please, no. I'm sorry!" he said, moaning through gritted teeth. I had fired handguns before. Growing up in Montana, my dad was an avid hunter and gun owner."Tell it to God!" I yelled, pulling the hammer back. "Gemma, no!" White Owl said, drifting down the stairs. "I know you want revenge, that's normal. But taking his life won't take away your pain. You want him to be afraid? He is, believe me. He's hurt and can't hurt you now. You are stronger than he is, you always were. Gemma, please. Give me the gun." Her right hand was extended toward me, palm up. "Gemma, I know your heart, you're not a killer. He's no threat now. If you kill him, it's not self defense, it's murder. Can you live with that?" "If I shoot, he can't hurt anyone again." I yelled. "Yes, that's true. But you'll still be a murderer. I don't want you to have that on your conscience. Gemma, please trust me when I say that revenge is a cruel and ultimately useless. If doesn't make the pain go away and this man." White Owl turned and looked at Logan, his eyes clouded with pain and confusion, his hand still raised. "He'll never experience mercy. That will be a powerful lesson he needs to learn. Please, Gemma, I'm begging you. Please give him a chance to be better than he is now." White Owl implored.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content25"></a>I looked at Logan, then at White Owl. Then I remembered something that was told me in rehab. "If you can't forgive, you will never be clean. Hate is the cancerous acid of the soul. Hate keeps you stuck in the past, where your addiction is. If you forgive, then the past is released and you can start living in the now. That's how you get clean. Let go of the old hurts, forgive those who hurt you. Hating them doesn't hurt them at all, all it does is make you bitter and unloving."Taking my finger off the trigger, I placed the gun in her gloved hand. "Thank you Gemma." She turned to face Logan, "She gave you your life back. Second chances are rare, don't screw it up." He nodded fast, then relaxed slightly, groaning. But she wasn't through yet. Grabbing his lapels, she dragged him into the cell. "How many guards are there?" "None." He whispered hoarsely. "The doc told us all to vanish, paid us 10 grand each." "Why did you stay?" White Owl asked, still holding him. "I work for Clayton, thought he and the others were setting him up." "He's dead."White Owl told him matter of factly. "Figured that since you're flying around. What are you going to do with me?" He asked, swallowing audibly.<br />White Owl thought about it. "Go to Queen City and turn yourself in. Ask for Detective Winslow. If you're not there in 12 hours, I'll find you and make you regret living. Is that clear?" To add weight to her words, she hovered off the ground about 7 feet up, still hanging onto Logan's shirt. "I hear you!" He said, looking down and seeing nothing under his feet. She released him. He crashed to the floor, landing on his butt. He groaned but said nothing.She looked at me. "We're out of here. Are you ready?" "I thought you'd never ask." I smiled at her, she smiled back. "Come on, let's go." White Owl said. We ran up the stairs. White Owl leading, making sure there was no other guards. Logan told the truth, there was no one watching the entrance to her cell. "Come on, I can get us out of here." "Wait, who can we trust?" She asked. "White Owl, if I know them, you can trust them. No one but the idiots that Somnos hired even knew you were here. He had a lot of work done down there, we were told that a maximum security cell was being built. We weren't told that anyone was coming, just that the state mandated it." "That makes sense." White Owl commented. "Okay, I'll take your for it. Let's go, I know where to take you that's safe."We took the elevator up to the 2nd floor. The door slid open revealing an aide pushing a food tray. "Hi Jeremy." I said. He stared at us, his jaw dropping. He saw White Owl, then turned, heading for the panic button on the wall. If he pushed it, the whole facility would go on lockdown. "No, wait a sec!" I called after him.<br />But White Owl was already airborne, intercepting him. "Please, I'm not going to harm you." She said gently, landing between him and the button. He turned on his heel, looked at me. I stepped out of the car. "Listen, we've been lied to. This is White Owl, the real one. She was kept prisoner here. Clayton and Somnos were going to sell her." "Who? He managed to say. "Somnos, I mean Lacombe. It's a real long story but I need you to trust me, she's not dangerous." He looked at me, then over his shoulder at White Owl. She hovered there, smiling. "Gemma, this is crazy. Selling White Owl?" "It's true, Jeremy. I swear." White Owl said gently. He thought for long seconds, he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, I hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid."Alright, Gemma. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that she's the real McCoy. But I have a lot of questions." "I know, I do too. But we need to get out of here before anymore of Somnos...I mean Lacombe's friends get here." I said. "Alright then, go ahead." He concluded. I relaxed. "Thank you so much, Jeremy." I said, giving him a quick hug. He returned it awkwardly. We released each other. "How's Dr. Fournier?" I asked quickly. "He's doing better, he's out of restraints, thank God. But the sky in his world ain't blue. If you know what I mean." He told me. I looked at White Owl, smiling widely, a weight lifting off my shoulders.I hugged Jeremy again, then we left him, a confused look on his face. We rushed down the hallway. "Where's the nearest exit?" She asked me. "I need to see Louis...I mean Dr. Fournier." She stopped me, looked into my eyes. "You care for him, don't you?" I felt a lump in my throat. "Yes, I need to see how he is, please." She considered this, a slight frown on her face. "Where is he?" "The last time I heard, he was in Isolation. That's on the other side of the building." I answered quickly. "Gemma..." She began so say. "White Owl, I just need to see him for one minute, that's all I ask." I placed my hand on her upper arms. "Please, one minute, then we can leave." "Let's go then, but you have one minute with him. I'm still not certain of our safety." "White Owl, I am." I released her arms and we set off.Apparently Jeremy got on his PDA and texted the staff. We got into the main hallway and saw a group waiting for us. White Owl went for her belt. "Wait!" I said, stepping in front of her. "Who's in charge now?" "What do you mean? Dr. Lacombe is. What happened to you, Gemma?" One of the other nurses, Emily, asked me.<br />"You have a board of directors, right? White Owl asked. "Of course." Emily replied, sounding a little confused. "Call them now, Lacombe is a criminal I had arrested a few years ago. He came back to get rid of me. He was holding both of us captive in the Maximum Security cell." "Where is he now?" Someone asked. "He's gone. Now call the board and the state police in that order. Sheriff Clayton was working with Lacombe. He's dead, so are the ones who were going to sell us." The group looked at each other, talking amongst themselves. One of the aides ran to the nearest phone, started making calls.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content26"></a><a name="lw_1263030213_0"></a>"We're going to see Dr. Fournier, please don't interfere." White Owl warned. "We understand, White Owl, but he's had a massive psychotic break." "He was poisoned." White Owl said. "You need to get him to a hospital now!" "Poisoned? By who?" Someone asked. "Lacombe, he needed Fournier out of the way to take over." White Owl said. "The board members are on the way. You sure you want the cops involved?" She glared at him. "There are four corpses in the basement, call the cops NOW" White Owl said, her voice brooking no argument. He saw the look on her face and dialed 911.It took almost forever to reach Isolation, everyone was asking questions. I left White Owl to answer them. All I wanted to do was see Louis. Dr. Barrett was overseeing him, he looked tired. "Nurse Laurence?" "You need to call an ambulance. Dr. Fournier has been poisoned." "I ran every blood test available, there's no trace of any toxin in his system. Besides, the board of directors insisted that he gets cared for here, in house." He looked down his nose at me, like a high school principal. I lost my temper, grabbing the lapels of his lab coat and pushed him against the wall. "Listen to me, you supercilious twit, down that hallway is a pissed off superheroine who will break you in half if you do not call an ambulance right now!"He looked down at me, and I do mean look down. I'm 5'4" and Dr. Barret was 6'1" but at that moment I felt 8 feet tall. He opened his mouth, saw my expression then changed his mind."Fine, I'll do that, but if the board asks me why, I'll tell them you threatened me. I'm sure Director Lacombe will find your conduct worthy of immediate dismissal."<br /><a name="lw_1263030213_1"></a>"I think you'll find the director indisposed at the moment and will be for some time, doctor." I heard White Owl say from behind me. "But I suggest strongly that you call for an ambulance. And tell the lab to check for psychotropic proteins." She suggested. "You expect me to take medical advice from a layperson?" Barret asked smugly. "Gemma, my friend, please release the good doctor." I complied, stepping back. "Thank you. White Owl." "You're welcome." She said with a dazzling smile. "Doctor Barrett, just so you know, Director Lacombe is a wanted man. He lived in France where he murdered his wife. He left the country and ended up in Queen City, where he ran a hypnotherapy clinic under the name of Somnos. I arrested him, he was extradited back to France. He escaped from prison, had extensive plastic surgery and returned here to take his revenge on me.” She paused to let that soak in.<br />Then she continued “He poisoned Dr. Fournier to get him out of the way so he could take over this asylum. Nurse Laurence and myself were held captive in the maximum security cell in the basement. If you go down there, you'll find four bodies, all murdered by your esteemed director. The police are on the way as we speak. You may want to meet them before they get down there."Barrett looked like he had a colonoscopy without a local anesthetic. "Nurse, call for an ambulance. Tell them to have their labs check for psychotropic proteins. Call the board and have them meet me here as soon as possible." He was nearly running now. "Make way! Make way!" I heard Barrett yell.<br /> Iopened the door to Isolation and went in. Louis was a wreck. Whatever Somnos gave him was potent. He was pale and sweaty, looking nothing like I remembered from just a few days ago. I took a washcloth, dampened it and wiped his face and neck. "Director, can you hear me?" His eyes opened, I gave him a sip of water. "Gemma..." I had never felt so happy to hear my name. "Yes, it's me."<br /><a name="lw_1263030213_2"></a>"Lacombe...drugged me." "I know, White Owl is here. It's alright, you're safe. We're sending you to a real hospital." He smiled. "I called for an ambulance. It'll be here soon." White Owl said. She looked at Louis and paled. "That answers that question." She said weakly. "What question?" I asked. "He looks like Somnos before his surgery, a lot like him." "What are you saying?" I asked her. "Is Somnos your brother?" "What?" I exclaimed. "White Owl, you're way out of line, that monster couldn't be related to Louis...I mean Dr..." She's right Gemma." Louis said softly. "He is my brother." I looked at him. "He set you up." White Owl told him. "I know. Did you stop him?" "Forever." She said coldly. "Good." He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep."Gemma," White Owl said gently, "you need to rest. I know someplace where it's safe." I nodded. I went over, gave him a quick kiss. "We'll talk later." He smiled. White Owl and I went outside, somehow avoiding the staff, I was glad. "Are you afraid of heights?" She asked me. I looked at her, hoping she was going to do what I wanted to do. "Come on, White Owl Airlines is departing." I must say it was sort of weird to be cradled in her arms like a groom carrying his bride. But we took off silently, my eyes taking in everything.<br /><a name="lw_1263030213_3"></a><a name="lw_1263030213_4"></a><a name="lw_1263030213_5"></a>About 100 feet up, we came to a hover. We saw a bunch of police cars and ambulances. "Shouldn't we give our statements?" I asked her. "We will later, I don't know about you. But I need some food, a hot bath and a hug." I burst out laughing. "And by the way, 'supercilious twit?' she asked. I smiled. "When I was in rehab, there was an annoying guy who used to call us that in group." "Did he make it through? She asked. "He graduated, but he OD'd about 3 months later." "Too bad." White Owl commented. "It happens. You have to make a choice not to follow that path." We flew upwards. It was morning. "What day is this?" I asked her. "A new one." It was a feeling I can't describe, I was flying! The only sound was the wind. I was sitting in the arms of a heroine, safe and utterly secure. The horizon was ahead of us, the sun rising. It was glorious and I never wanted it to end.As we slid through the air, I felt like a new person. I had no worries, no responsibilities, I was a dove, with the sky as my home and my companion. I watched the world beneath us, the cars and the people walking, trapped on a solid dimension. We were over Queen City now, it looked so different from up here. "Wave, Gemma." White Owl said, turning to the right. There was a traffic helicopter, we avoided it, but we both waved as we passed under it. We looked at each other and giggled like kids.We began to slow, to descend from the vibrant morning sky. "There's no place safer in Queen City." I heard her say, landing gracefully in front of St. George's Greek Orthodox Church. "I know this place!" I exclaimed happily. I recounted my earlier visit before starting at Meadowbrook. "Sounds like Father Tim, let's see if he's awake."<br />We walked up the steps, I was feeling very tired all of a sudden. I felt a sick emptiness in me. I knew what it was and without thinking, turned around and looked at the pedestrians, disappointed that no one had what I needed. Realizing what I had just done, I began to weep. "It's ok, we're here to help you." White Owl said, her gloved hand cupping my chin gently.<br /><a name="lw_1263030213_6"></a>We made it inside the beautiful old church. "Good morning White Owl!" Father Tim said, a big smile on his face. "Good Morning, Father. I have a friend who needs a haven." He looked at me. "My child, you are safe here, your Father will meet your every need according to his riches and glory in Christ Jesus." "Thank you, Father Tim. We met a few years ago, I'm Gemma Laurence." He thought for a moment. "Of course, the nurse from Denver. Welcome home, my child. You look like you need a good meal and some rest." The weeping, that I had just got under control, started again. White Owl and Father Tim helped me to his office. White Owl explained what happened. It took nearly 3 hours, some hearty sandwiches and a pot of coffee to get the whole tale out.Father Tim leaned back in his chair after we finished. "Part of my ministry is listening to those who have been hurt by others. But I don't recall anything approaching the level of cruelty that you just recounted. Gemma, you are free to stay as long as you wish. You are in need of healing, which I offer you in the name of our Lord. Being forced back into addiction is a cruel, heartless act. But I know how strong you are and I know you will get past your forced fall into your past. White Owl, your resilience and bravery has brought you through another horrible experience. I know your duties keep you from a long rest. But you know the doors are always open."<br />She smiled at him warmly. "I know, Father. But I am going to go home for a few hours. Gemma, the police will want a statement, call them and let them you'll be in as soon as you're able." She smiled at me. I stood and held her. "Thank you for saving me." She whispered. I was astounded, but I managed to say "You're welcome, but you saved my life, thank you for everything!" We parted, White Owl bid goodbye to Father Tim and myself, then walked out.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content27"></a>Six months later, Louis and I married at St. George's. It was a beautiful ceremony and I was happier than I had ever been before. The day was a blur, full of smiles and laughter. In the reception hall, a wonderful buffet was laid out for us. Louis and I were served by a lovely woman, her name tag read "Athena" I had seen her in the church before but we had never met until now. "Congratulations, Mrs. Fournier." She whispered to me, a big smile on her face, refilling my glass. "Thank you so much, this is more wonderful than I had ever dreamed." "It's our pleasure, weddings are sort of a specialty here." She said proudly. "I can tell." I took Louis' hand and held it. He looked at me, smiling, and I wanted to melt."May God bless and keep you both." She said. I felt my eyes welling up. She dabbed at them gently, then left us.The trials and hearings were atrocious. But that was life, times of great joy tempered with periods of pain. But it's the pain that makes the joy feel that much better. But as time passed, the attention grabbers got bored and found fresher prey to feast upon. Meadowbrook was slowly transformed, starting with a new police force that weeded out the criminal element. What was really nice is that people stopped moving out of town. They felt safe living in Meadowbrook again. And occasionally, when I visit Queen City, I see a heroine clad in white, flying over her city. Ever watchful, ever caring. I owe so much to her and I'll never forget that amazing heroine.<br /></div>Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-84102049946970231372010-01-11T20:42:00.000-05:002010-01-11T20:43:19.994-05:00Enter Dr Somnos by Trekker1071Enter Dr Somnos—a White Owl adventure by Trekker1071<br />“Alex, what's wrong?” Athena asked her older brother. Alex took a sip of red wine. He looked troubled as he sat on the couch across from her sister. “It's Beth, she's been on a spending spree lately.” “Beth? Our Beth? The queen of thrift?” Athena said, smiling. “Yes, and it's bothering me. She's not buying things for herself, you know how she hates doing that. But she's paying $5000.00 per session for some weight loss program.” Athena gulped, nearly choking on her own wine. “That's insane...I'm sorry Alex.” Athena said after catching her breath. “It's ok. Have you ever heard of Professor Somnos?” Athena pondered for a few moments. “He rings a bell, but I don't know anything specific.”<br />Alex began, “I'm just learning about him, but here's what I know: He's a hypnotherapist to the wealthy. He's well respected and very successful.” “But why did Beth look him up?” Athena asked. Alex sighed, “She's been trying to lose 10 pounds and not having much luck. I keep telling her she looks fine, but every time we go shopping, she complains that she can't find decent clothes that fit.” He paused, took a long drink. Athena was surprised, she had never seen her brother drink like that.<br />“Remember the cruise we were planning for next summer?” How could she not? She remembered how excited Beth was when she told her that they were going on the QE2 for a 3 week cruise. “She tole me last week that she canceled it. She said that unless she could fit into a bikini, she wouldn't go.” Athena's jaw dropped. That trip was something they had been planning for nearly 2 years.<br />“You're right, something is very wrong here.” Athena said to Alex. “I know, but what can we do?” She reached over and placed her hand on his knee. “Let me do some research on this Somnos. And try not to worry, ok?” Alex nodded, trying to smile.<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_0"></a>After he left, Athena called Lt. Winslow. She took a deep breath, trying to relax as she heard a familiar voice. “Winslow.” “Lieutenant, this is White Owl.” “So how is Queen City's favorite vigilante today?” She had to smile. “I'm fine, thank you. I need some information on a man calling himself Professor Somnos...” “Yes, we're familiar with that character.” He started, “We have had several complaints filed on him, mostly from angry spouses and family members.” She heard the sounds of the keyboard being used. “We've looked at his business and he's clean. No mob contacts, doesn't drink to excess or do drugs. But he does have expensive tastes: penthouse apartment at the Bentley, 3 Rolls Royces, a Gulfstream 5 private jet and a lot of of other houses all over the world.”<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_1"></a>“Also, he is a licensed physician and hypnotherapist. He specializes in weight loss and smoking cessation for the rich and famous. Educated at the Sorbonne, graduated top of his class. Ah, here's something interesting. He married a rich Frenchwoman in 1990, she died in a car accident 8 years ago...And get this, the accident investigation was inconclusive. Apparently, the two of them were arguing, she drove off and ran right into a tree, dying on impact. There were no skid marks. The cell phone records showed that Somnos called her 2 minutes before the crash. Her family accused him of somehow killing her, but could prove nothing. The good professor inherited everything and moved to the U.S. soon after. He charges a lot for his therapy, but according to the law, it's not illegal to overcharge rich idiots.” Athena bit her tongue.<br />“White Owl, why the interest in this guy?” She took a deep breath, thinking. “A friend of mine is involved with him and she's acting strangely.” “Then God help the professor, but be careful, White Owl, his website claims he can hypnotize almost anyone. I sure hate the thoughts of him messing around with that pretty head of yours.” “Aww, lieutenant, what would your wife say if she heard you say that?”<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_2"></a><a name="lw_1259596257_3"></a>The heroine could hear the officer smile. “She'd read me my rights and beat the snot out of me.” White Owl laughed, “I knew she was a smart woman. Thanks for the info and I will be careful. Bye.” She hung up and looked at the clock: 4:15 PM. She went to his website and saw that he closed his office at 5 on Saturdays. “More than enough time.” Athena thought as she donned the Nu-Silk, applied her mask, pulled on her gloves and boots before buckling the wide belt around her slim waist.<br />By 4:38, she was airborne, the sun setting in the late fall evening. It was chilly enough for her stylish but warm jacket, but she didn't think she'd need it when she was changing earlier. 'Have to break it out when I get home.' She reminded herself, curving west toward the expensive part of town.<br />White Owl circled the small, ornate house Somnos used for his office. Sure enough, a white Rolls Royce sat in a secure parking spot. It looked like a mid 60's model, White Owl thought. She orbited the home silently, waiting for the last clients to leave. She was angry as she thought about her sister being manipulated. White Owl was no expert on hypnosis, but she knew that a hypnotic suggestion that didn't violate the person's core ethics could be used with great effect.<br />Beth was a generous person, often making sizable donations to worthy charities. White Owl figured that was the lever Somnos used on Beth to get money from her. If that were true, she'd put a stop to that.<br />Finally, the last car left. White Owl descended gracefully, landing in the parking lot. She looked around, saw no cameras or other security systems. She walked purposefully toward the front door. She rang the bell, forcing herself to be calm, otherwise she may have jabbed the button clear through the door frame.<br />A speaker came to life. “I'm sorry, but the office is closed. Please call my receptionist to set up an appointment.” “Professor Somnos, this is White Owl. I need to speak with you immediately.” There was a pause, then “White Owl? This is indeed an honor. Please hold on, I'll be right there.” She waited, her toe tapping impatiently on the threshold.<br />It took over a minute for him to appear. White Owl knew that was an old trick to let her know that he was in control. She fought back the urge to knock the door off the hinges, hand it to Somnos and say, “Don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?” But she refrained from doing so.<br />Finally, she heard the door being unlocked. From the picture on his website, she knew that Somnos was a handsome man and no doubt he would use his wiles to throw her off balance. As the door opened, she looked at him. Somnos was only a few inches taller than herself, but the cut of his handmade suit made him look taller. His hair was dark and expensively styled, he flashed a winning smile at her. “White Owl, what a pleasant surprise. I apologize for the delay, I was on the phone with a client.” He stepped aside, gesturing White Owl to come in. She did.<br />There was a short hallway leading to the waiting room. As soon as the door was closed, White Owl sensed more than heard, pleasant, low frequency tones. It sounded somewhat familiar but she couldn't quite remember where she heard it. So as she followed Somnos, her mind focused on the noise, trying to identify it. It was like hearing part of a song that you couldn't remember the name of.<br />Somnos was saying something, but the sounds had distracted White Owl. She had to concentrate on what he was saying, but she suddenly didn't feel the urgency to listen to his voice. She liked the sounds, they were relaxing, comforting. It was like Daisy's purring. It was so nice, so sweet and nurturing, she found herself smiling but didn't know why.<br />Somnos also had a smile on his face, but for a whole other reason. The white noise he was playing could relax a rabid elephant and he saw that White Owl was quite calm. He walked slowly, giving the noise as much time to effect the powerful heroine as possible. He had used this method on his wife, Elaina, using the tones to relax her will, allowing him to subtly plant a series of suggestions that used her chronic depression as a lever to appeal to her occasional suicidal thoughts.<br />On that day she threatened to divorce him, she had stormed out of their mansion, ignoring the chauffeur's request to drive her into town. As she sped away in her 1965 BMW 2000 CS, he called her, speaking a series of eloquently crafted instructions to her. As a result, the suicidal thoughts conquered her will and she drove into a century-old tree at over 90 miles per hour, dying on impact.<br />As a result, Somnos, his real name DeGaulle Fournier, inherited 340 million Euros, as well as Elaina's property holdings and possessions. Her family was suspicious, but they knew she fought depression for years and to prove that Fournier murdered his wife was impossible to prove.<br />And now White Owl was falling under his mental dominance. And to him, White Owl would be his ultimate tool, as well as his ultimate toy. His plans for the heroine were sinister, but first, he had to conquer her formidable will.<br />Leading her to his treatment room, actually a small stage, complete with a theater style curtain, he told White Owl to stand still. She did without question. He smiled again. “White Owl, don't move until I tell you to. Do you understand?” “I understand, I won't move until you tell me to.” She replied evenly.<br />“Very good, White Owl, very good indeed.” Somnos said warmly. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small globe hanging from a gold chain. Pressing a hidden control, the globe lit up, throwing a gentle glow on White Owl's beautiful face and body. “White Owl,” Somnos began. “I need your help.” “I can help you.” She replied confidently. “Good, I need you to concentrate on this light. It is vitally important that you concentrate on the light. Lives of innocent people depend on your complete concentration on the light. Will you help them, White Owl?”<br />“I will help them, Professor.” White Owl replied instantly. “Good, now clear your mind of all conscious thought, conscious thought will cause harm to innocent people. The power to protect them is in the light, but you must focus your whole mind on the light. Listen to my voice, I will help you to focus. The light will make you powerful, it will cleanse your mind of doubt and fear. Focus, White Owl, focus on the light, listen to my voice and you will protect innocent people.”<br />“I will focus on the light, I will listen to your voice.” White Owl said. Somnos began gently swinging the globe back and forth. “Watch the light White Owl, do not look away. Innocent life depends on you watching the light. Focus on the light, White Owl.” He watched her, her eyes following the lighted globe obediently. It began to spin gradually.<br />Slowly, he increased the length of the swing, White Owl kept her gaze locked on it. “Wonderful, White Owl, you are saving innocent life. Now give your will to the light, hold nothing back, innocent lives will be saved if you do.” “I understand.” White Owl said, strain in her voice as she tried to obey his commands. There was no way she could allow innocent people to be harmed.<br />The light was so bright, so inviting. White Owl sensed its power, its purity. Focusing her mind on it, she let the light shine into the deepest parts or her mind, her resistance melted. Her desire to save the innocent was total as her will merged with the light, becoming one with it.<br />Beth was forgotten, Winslow's warning was forgotten. Her desire to defeat Somnos was gone. White Owl's eyes are drawn to the shining, spinning object and she can hear Somnos' voice in her head, banishing all thought! She drops her arms and stands silent, her will to win vanquished.<br />Somnos saw White Owl's surrender, her face and posture relaxed. He could hardly believe his luck! He owned a superheroine. With White Owl's mind under his control, Somnos laughed. White Owl ignored the sound, her mind absorbed by the light.<br />“White Owl, you've done it! You've saved innocent lives!” She said nothing, but the smile on her face told Somnos that the mental lever he had selected was the proper one for White Owl.<br /><a name="cg_msg_content"></a>Somnos exulted in his victory over White Owl. She may have great physical strength, but her mind was as normal as anyone else. He wondered what to do with her, He could order her to commit crimes, saying that the things stolen belonged to him and only she could return them. But again, White Owl was a woman and he was sure, fairly celibate or avoided deep relationships because of her heroine identity...<br />He wondered how much he could get if he auctioned White Owl off. Or even better, an auction where the winner got to unmask White Owl. But she was so incredibly beautiful and he hated the thought of losing her without knowing her intimately.<br />But again, she would make a useful tool of vengeance. There was a private investigator named Molly Bryson. She had been hired by the wife of one if his more lucrative clients. Somnos had taken several million dollars before “curing” him of a 4 pack day cigarette habit.<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_01"></a>But still, the detective was looking into his affairs. Perhaps White Owl could put an end to her prying eyes. He stared at the heroine, so beautiful, her skin glowing softly. Her hair shiny, elegantly framing her face. Her figure was magnificent, her breasts barely contained by the thin white leotard. Her legs shimmered under the tights that embraced them. He shook his head, breaking a spell as old as humanity: the desire for a beautiful woman.<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_11"></a>He took a deep breath before speaking. “White Owl, there is a criminal only you can stop. Follow me to my office.” “I will follow you.” She said vacantly. In a few minutes, in his plush office, White Owl floated over Somnos's right shoulder, staring at a picture of Molly Bryson.<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_21"></a>“White Owl, this woman is a terrorist. She plans on detonating a bomb in the Children's Hospital. If you stop her, innocent lives will be saved.” “I will stop her.” White Owl intoned solemnly. “White Owl, she must be destroyed. If not, she will come back and harm innocent lives.”<br />“Destroy her?” White Owl asked. Somnos heart nearly stopped. She was resisting his suggestion. 'She doesn't kill, only captures.' He thought to himself. He quickly came up with a new plan “White Owl, sit down.” He watched, amazed as she glided silently over his desk and into the leather chair across from him. “White Owl, she is not human, she is an alien. She has been hiding among us for centuries, quietly taking innocent lives. Only you can stop her.” He added force into his voice. “White Owl, you must destroy the alien to save innocent lives.”<br />Quickly, Somnos produced the globe. “White Owl, the light will show you that I am telling the truth. Look into the light, White Owl. Focus on it, see the truth in my words and take strength from the light.” He gently swung the globe, watching White Owl focus on it. He watched as his captive's face took on the relaxed expression as before.<br />“I see the truth, I will destroy the alien.” White Owl announced. “That is wonderful, White Owl. You will save many, many innocent lives.” He told her where to find Molly and she flew off at maximum speed across town, to the north side of Queen City.<br /><a name="lw_1259596257_31"></a>Molly was in her office. It was nearly 10 PM, but she was working late on some files when White Owl burst through the window. The glass sprayed through the office. A few shards flew across her desk, cutting her arm as she ducked below her desk.<br />That cover was eliminated as the desk was violently picked up and tossed across the small office. Molly had no idea what was going on until she saw a pair of gloved hands reaching down and pulling the front of her blouse.<br />“White Owl?” She exclaimed. The heroine said nothing, her face a mask of rage as she picked up Molly as if she were a doll. Her right hand wrapped around Molly's throat and suddenly she couldn't breathe as White Owl's hand started squeezing her tender throat. Her brown eyes bugged out as the pressure on her throat increased. She was completely confused. What was going on? Why was White Owl attacking her? Molly's hands wrapped around White Owl's wrist, trying to break her grip, but it was like pulling at a steel beam as long seconds passed.<br />Molly tried to speak, to reason with the heroine, but the only sounds the detective could make was a faint croak that turned into a rattle. Her heart thudded, her vision began to dim as her oxygen starved brain started to shut down. Her slim body felt a million miles away, her hands went limp, blood from her wounds dripped on the floor.<br />White Owl saw the blood. A slight flash of confusion fired through her mind. 'Red blood?' Then, unbidden, a rule that she held sacred seared across her subconscious: “Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill.”<br />White Owl gasped, her hand releasing the dying detective. Molly fell to the floor, taking desperate breaths, filling starving lungs as White Owl stared blankly at the wall in front of her. Anguished thoughts trickled through her mind, they became a flood as the control of her mind shattered.<br />White Owl wailed, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Molly's neck. She watched, dumbfounded as the heroine fell to her knees, her hands gripping her head, her body rocking back and forth as her mind fought the programming. Her thoughts were a hurricane of feelings, reason and shame. Tears streamed from her eyes as she wept.<br />Molly sat on the floor, completely confused. As if a switch was thrown, White Owl rose to her feet. She looked at Molly, “I'm sorry...” She whispered and flew out the shattered window. Molly's mind was going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out what just happened and why.<br />White Owl zoomed up, past the clouds to see the brilliant stars. “Focus on the light...” she heard Somnos say in her mind. “I will not!” She screamed aloud. She dove now, below the clouds, her mind was clearing slowly and the rage she felt was lethal. “It's my turn to be in control, Professor.” White Owl said aloud. A plan began to form and the heroine smiled, but it was a smile that would frighten a murderer.<br />Somnos waited in his office, his TV tuned to the news station. He was expecting to hear of Molly Bryson's death. And as soon as White Owl returned, he would order her to become his personal assistant, taking care of his every need. And after he discovered her identity, she would do anything to keep him from revealing what he knew, even without hypnosis.<br />Perhaps he could make use of her abilities. White Owl would make a lethal assassin, hire her out to those who needed a difficult job done. She'd need a new costume. Red...no, black. A halter top and miniskirt, thigh boots and a sinister mask. Easy income, all he would do would program her to kill whoever could afford it.<br />Somnos smiled a wicked smile. Yes, owning a superheroine would have it's advantages. He wondered what she would be like in bed. A white clad form appeared in the hidden camera in the door. He smiled widely, thinking about kissing her as he unlocked the door...<br /><a name="lw_1259596511_0"></a><a name="lw_1259596511_1"></a>An iron grip wrapped around his throat. He gurgled, his eyes wide. His hands clawed at White Owl's gloves. 'How? Not possible!' he thought desperately, his lungs demanding air. He kicked at her, dimly realizing that his feet were off the floor! “Look into my eyes Fournier.” White Owl said. “You're feeling very sleepy...” He did feel sleepy, hypoxia did that do people... It was his last thought as his eyes closed.<br />His eyes shot open and he gasped loudly. His office was gone! His arms were aching, his mouth felt strange. He saw stars overhead. As he began to feel his body, he felt...cradled. “Welcome to White Owl Airlines, this is your captain speaking. We're presently at an altitude of 8000 feet.” He realized that he was being carried like an child in White Owl's arms. Somnos felt steel around his wrists, trapping them behind his back.<br />“Mmmmph!” Somnos said before realizing that he had been gagged! “I hope you didn't like that tie very much. It was a bit tacky, I thought.” White Owl commented drily. He struggled. “I wouldn't do that if I were you, I'm the only thing keeping you from becoming a wide pool of strawberry colored goo on the ground.” White Owl said, smiling at him.<br />It wasn't her nature to be petty, but the look of terror on his face gave White Owl a deep feeling of satisfaction. “Sucks to be helpless, doesn't it? To lose your independence, your control of your life. You can't even talk. I know how potent your voice is so I took it from you.” His eyes flashed in anger.<br />“Temper, temper, Professor. I have a confession to make: I believe all life is sacred. I don't kill, the right to end life isn't mine.” She looked down at her captor, it felt odd to be the giver of bondage, not the receiver. It was a new experience and, to be honest, rather liberating.<br />“But Professor, in your case I can make an exception.” The heroine dropped him like a bad habit. He screamed into the gag, tumbling uncontrollably toward the ground, his expensive suit flapping in the wind. One of the primal human fears was falling, and he was face to face with that fear as gravity seized him, drawing him into it's crushing bosom. The ground was coming up fast.<br /><a name="lw_1259596511_2"></a>He stopped! White Owl had swept under him and arrested his fall! “I know I'm defying the law of gravity, Somnos, but I never studied law.” White Owl said, smiling as she rose into the cool night air again. If Somnos had the use of his arms he would have hugged her, he hated it, but he was trembling. He noticed that they were climbing again. No, she wouldn't...”Pilot to bombardier, Pilot to bombardier, bombs away.” he heard White Owl say, doing a rough impression of Bugs Bunny. Somnos was dropped, the starry sky spinning sickly around him as he fell, he felt bile rising in his throat as terror seized him, his legs kicking as if he could run through the night sky. The ground was close now, every second it drew nearer. He was going to die, he hoped it wouldn't hurt. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact.<br />This time he felt a vise like grip on his right ankle. Somnos opened his eyes. He was maybe 200 feet up, below him was a forest full of trees. He felt crushing shame and relief at the same moment in equal measure. His heart was pounding and he felt a twinge of pain in his chest and arm.<br />“Once more for the Gipper!” White Owl cried out, grabbing Somnos' belt and tossing him in a graceful arc. His tumbling was more violent and the evil man felt his bladder releasing into his silk shorts and tailored pants. He made an awful scream into his gag as he sailed into the dark. Stars and ground blurred horribly as he spun helplessly through the air.<br /><a name="lw_1259596511_3"></a>Just before impact, White Owl grabbed her would-be master by the ankle, arresting his fall painfully. He felt the warm patch on his pants and raged at the heroine. They came to a silent hover. “You and I are going to pay a visit to someone. While you're there, you may want to remember the old saying: 'Confession is good for the soul.' Do you understand, Fournier?” He nodded while White Owl carried him inverted to a wrecked office.<br />Molly had cleaned her wounds. Fortunately, they weren't serious. Her neck, however, was badly bruised and her voice was a little hoarse. Now she was cleaning up, sweeping the broken glass and other debris and trying to piece together the puzzle of the last few hours.<br />There was a loud thud and a figure landed badly on her floor. It took a few seconds for her to recover from her crouch in the corner. “Somnos!” the detective exclaimed, seeing him laying on his side. He was shaking, she detected the smell of urine. “May I come in?” A female voice asked. Molly looked at the broken window, saw White Owl floating just outside. “Funny time to find manners.” She said angrily. “Alright, come on in. I bet you have a hell of an explanation for this evening's festivities.” White Owl drifted in slowly. She noticed that Molly had her pistol in her hand, but aimed safely at the floor.<br />“Do you have a camcorder?” White Owl asked. “I did, but I don't know if you smashed it or not.” She saw that the heroine looked embarrassed, maybe even dejected. With her left hand, she opened her closet, pulled out a box and opened it. “Gee, it survived, fate must have been smiling on me.” Molly stated coldly.<br />“Actually, fate has smiled on you. You're going to hear a full confession. It won't be admissible in a U.S. Court, but it may be a help to you later.” White Owl said, going to Somnos and removing the gag. “Ok, Fournier, you will tell her everything. I'm going to stand behind you. If you try hypnotizing her, I'll snap your neck like a twig. Is that clear?” He nodded.<br />It took an hour, but Somnos told everything. Molly fought back her own excitement as he explained in detail how he murdered his wife and what he did to White Owl. “You sick bastard!” Molly exclaimed.<br /><a name="lw_1259596511_4"></a><a name="lw_1259596511_5"></a>“It doesn't matter. Like White Owl said, this won't stand up in court. This confession was made under duress, ergo it's useless.” “In America, it is useless. But in France, the rules are different.” Molly said smugly, watching him grow pale. “And I bet Elaina's family has a few friends in high places that will make sure you go to trial. If memory serves, they still hang murderers in France, don't they?” The expression that twisted his face answered the question.<br />“Now then, why don't you tell us how to release the clients that you control.” White Owl suggested, thinking of Beth. Somnos felt her hands on his shoulder blades, then explained the counter suggestion for his hypnotic control. With that done, Somnos knew he was finished. He could only imagine the lawsuits that would be filed, never mind the murder charges. They would take everything, he would be a pauper, then he'd face years in prison, locked in a steel and concrete cage.<br />His prediction was partly correct. It took four months to get him extradited to France, where he was tried and convicted for murdering his wife. He did not get the death penalty, but sentenced to life in prison without parole. Months passed, his spirit breaking a little at a time until 3 years later, he died in prison of a heart attack.<br />Days later, White Owl was patrolling the skies of Queen City. She felt whole, in control of her life and her destiny. Still, she knew how close she came to losing everything she was. She would be more careful in the future, and she prayed that she would be strong enough to face the threats that would descend on her city.<br />EndAthenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4405622588451763731.post-16998788764953273152009-12-10T22:48:00.001-05:002009-12-10T22:50:52.583-05:00White Owl in Toyland, part 2"Why did they send a message to Queen City?" asked Nicholas.<br /><br />"I know why!" said Gregory. "its because White Owl lives here, isn't it?"<br /><br />"No," I said calmly, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">suppressing</span> a smile. "There's a much better reason. May I continue?" The boys sat back in their beds and nodded agreeably.<br />In police headquarters, Commissioner Jordan held the communication from the North Pole in her hand. Beside her, Chief Linseed rubbed his face. Worry crossed both their visages.<br />"I can't commit men to this Commissioner," said Chief Linseed. "We've barely enough as it is with these budget cuts and furloughs."<br />"I know Chief," said Commissioner Jordan. "Besides, this request is for someone besides us. I don't know who she is behind that mask, Chief. But if there was ever a time for her, this is it." The commissioner crossed the room and lifted a small glass cover from a velvet <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cushioned</span> table. She picked up the cell phone and pressed one on the speed dial.<br />"Wait a minute! White Owl has a cell phone?" asked Nicholas.<br />"Of course she does," said Gregory. "How else are the police going to get in touch with her? Its not like they have a big searchlight on city hall."<br />"But its not included in her action figure!" insisted Nicholas.<br />"Calm down Nicholas," I said. "Would you grant that they might not list EVERYTHING White Owl has in her tool belt?"<br />Nicholas nodded. "I think so. It would be too small, and might cause a choking problem." I beamed. At least Alex and Beth's safety lectures were getting through.<br />A few moments after the call, White Owl landed in the commissioner's office. "Good afternoon, Chief, Commissioner. I assume the situation is dire, the fate of the world is at stake and I'm the only one who can stop it?"<br />"Now how did you..." began Chief Linseed.<br />"You're absolutely right White Owl," said Commissioner Jordan. "In fact, it could be far worse. We have a communique from the North Pole that indicates Santa Claus has been captured and is being held hostage. The communique requested you specifically."<br />White Owl took the sheet and studied it. "I don't think I have a lot of time. Christmas is in three days, and if Santa isn't free before then, then Christmas isn't coming."<br />"Surely you can't get there flying, White Owl?" said Commissioner Jordan.<br />"I don't have to fly Commissioner. I just have to get to Casey's" And with that, the dauntless heroine flew out the window leaving the Police Chief and<br />the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Commissioner</span> staring agape at one another.<br />"Well you heard her, Chief! Let's get to Casey's!"<br />"Why did they have to go to Casey's?" asked Gregory.<br />"I know this one!" said Nicholas. "They had to go there, because that's where Santa is!"<br />"But there's Santa's all over the city," protested Gregory. "They're in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tri</span> County mall, out in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sylvania</span> and on the West Side too."<br />"But the REAL Santa is at Casey's" said Nicholas solemnly. "They even advertise that."<br />"Nicholas is right, Gregory," I said. "In fact, didn't we see the parade this year?"<br />"Oh yeah," said Gregory. I smiled and continued.<br />Casey's department store was crowded, but it was warmer in the manager's office. Mr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span> was not being very cooperative. "No, I forbid it. I can't have the police traipsing through all the departments during my busiest time. Ye cats! No one would be able to buy anything!"<br />Commissioner Jordan replied, "Mr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span>, I have a warrant signed by your good friend Judge Hooker. Now I would prefer not to exercise it, but I CAN."<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span> turned red with rage. "Now see here, Commissioner! I pay my taxes to keep you from running roughshod over me."<br />White Owl stopped him at that point. "Mr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span>. I think you misunderstand. Santa Claus is in trouble. Have you seen him today?"<br />"No," said <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span>. "And he's never late. I can't understand it."<br />"We just want to find him. Could I maybe have a look at the dressing room Santa uses?" She smiled and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span> smiled back.<br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Weeeellll</span>! I can hardly refuse such a lovely lady now, can I? Walk this way please." <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span> pushed through his office and onto the floor. A short escalator ride later, the four of them were on the second floor and headed toward Santa's chair. The chair sat empty, with a note that said, "Feeding the Reindeer"<br />"OK White Owl," said <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Throckmorton</span>. "Normally this is just another storage area, but we do make a dressing room from it at Christmas. You know, a few lockers, a chair or two--just a place to get away from the kids every so often."<br />White Owl entered the room. It was so small that one might have to go outside to change his mind. The room held four lockers, a chair and the miscellaneous debris of people who eat fast food and work retail. White Owl studied the lockers, which seemed to be randomly placed. They all seemed identical except for the numbers: 836 837 1130 and 1224. She gave a tentative tug on the locks of each, and was surprised when the door to 1224 opened. She felt a swirling breeze from inside and could see a bright white light blinking. She stepped into the locker and fell flat on her face in a snowbank.<br />Looking back up, White Owl couldn't see the locker anymore. She shivered, and was glad for the ski jacket she wore over her leotard. Turning back, she saw the gleam of a small city ahead of her, the light rising above the thick pine forest in front of her. Tucking her hands into her pockets, White Owl trudges slowly toward the city, deciding to save herself the wind chill of flight.<br />She entered the forest, and was awestruck by the fact the trees were decorated with ornaments, lights, tinsel and garland. White Owl stared in amazement at the sight and missed the two little elves rushing by on either side. Suddenly, her ankles were tugged together and White Owl fell into the snow once more. "Hey!" she cried. "I'm White Owl! One of the good guys! I think you sent for me."<br />There was a rustle from the pine boughs and a small cadre of elves poked their heads out of the trees. An older elf, with thick glasses stepped forward and studied a sheet of paper. "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hmmmm</span>, you seem to be who you say. OK guys, let her go." The ribbons fell away and White Owl staggered back to her feet, brushing the cold snow from her tights.<br />The elf held out his hand. "I'm Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span>. I run--er used to run--Santa's Records and Files. I guess now you'd say I'm the leader of the resistance."<br />White Owl took his hand and shook it. "What's happened here, Dr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span>?" She listened intently as the elf explained Jingle Belle's arrival.<br />"And now, she's got Santa locked up in the only room in the castle with no chimneys, windows, or mirrors. And it only has one door, guarded by one of the Outcast. Jingle Belle rounded up a whole lot of the elves who were unhappy under Santa and put them in charge."<br />"What about the rest of them?"<br />"They're still in the workshops. Belle disabled the World Watch, and turned it on us instead. No one can go anywhere in the compound without her seeing and knowing." White Owl filed this knowledge away.<br />"But we have a plan, White Owl! We're out of the compound now, so Belle isn't watching. We need YOU to spring Santa, while we cause a big enough diversion to bring Belle to us. You'll break in through the big window in Santa's great hall and get to him while we reconnect world communications and overthrow Belle."<br />"I'd hate to destroy the window in this cold," said White Owl.<br />"It's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span>. We have the best collection of carpenters, glaziers and putty men this side of a union hall. We'll have it fixed in no time. Besides, there's a weather control over the compound." Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span> smiled and White Owl could see the pride in his twinkling eyes.<br />"All right. When do we go?"<br />"Give us an hour to get back into the grounds. You'll see fireworks over the toy factory. That's your cue. Oh here, this should help you while waiting."<br />He handed a silver flask to White Owl and she took a drink of strong coffee. Then the elves disappeared into the dark forest.<br />White Owl shivered in the cold and sipped the coffee. She went over the layout of Santa's castle in her mind and was ready when the fireworks display erupted over the workshop. "Showtime," she muttered and jumped into the air, flying over the castle. A large rosette window with frosted glass <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">loomed</span> beneath her. White Owl took a silver ball from her pouch and threw it at the glass. The ball hit once, bounced and exploded, sending glass shards into the empty great room. White Owl covered her eyes and followed into the gaping hole.<br />She followed Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky's</span> instructions and took the hall to her left. The hall ended at a small alcove where a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">snaggle</span>-toothed elf sat. He looked up at White Owl and got a shocked look on his face. He picked up a tin can, with a string attached and shouted, "Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert!" White Owl threw a steel ball at him and the elf yelped as the ball knocked the can out of his hand.<br />"A tin can intercom?" she asked, incredulous. "You'll have to do better."<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">Snaggle</span>-tooth ran toward the heroine, tiny fists of doom raised. White Owl stepped to the side, grabbed his arm and dropped the elf on his head. The small figure lay still. White Owl patted him down, and found a key. She went to the door and slipped the key into the door. "Forgive me Santa, I may have wound up on your naughty list for that," she said as she opened the door.<br />"I wouldn't worry about that, White Owl," said a feminine voice. White Owl looked up to see a red haired woman with a deep green outfit in front of her.<br />The woman was holding one end of a rope, the other was looped into a noose around Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky's</span> neck.<br />"Jingle Belle I presume?" asked White Owl. "You should know I'm going to stop you."<br />"I don't think so Miss Snooty Heroine." She tugged the rope and Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky's</span> eyes bugged out. "Now if you'll just surrender to me, I MIGHT let you go home."<br />White Owl watched in horror as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span> kicked and struggled, clutching wildly at the rope. He was trying to be defiant, but White Owl also saw him looking past her, trying to warn her about something. She turned and saw <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Snaggle</span>-tooth with a funny looking slingshot in his hand. He released the sling, and a small purple sweet hit White Owl in the nose, leaving a sugary residue on her face. White Owl shook her head, and turned to Jingle Belle.<br />"Your silly little games aren't going to stop me. Now put Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span> down or...or...." She attempted to charge Jingle Belle but found herself blocked by a giant Candy Cane. Dodging left, she found a large taffy impeding her...<br />"Or what, White Owl?" asked Jingle Belle. "Finding it hard to stay awake?"<br />"What...what was that?" asked White Owl. The room was reeling...she could feel her knees buckling.<br />"That was the Sugarplum bomb. Sweet dreams White Owl."<br />The great heroine's knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor, a pleasant look on her face. Jingle Belle released the noose and Doc <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span> dropped to the floor, then stood and smiled. "She fell for it Milady Belle! That was so Tinsel!"<br />"Of course she fell for it you oaf. All heroines have a need to believe they're helping the oppressed. Now <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blinky</span>, I need you and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error">Snaggle</span>-tooth there to get her to the packing room. I think our heroine is in for a little surprise...<br />(to be continued...)Athenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10718911543333420169noreply@blogger.com0