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Posted: December 8, 2009 at 7:09 pm | Tags: chris ring, dick ayers, elf, femfan1, louis small jr., mark mckenna

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Heroes and Friends by Femfan1:

Posted: December 10, 2009 at 8:11 pm | Tags: femfan1

“Can you back up and try again, I think you missed that pothole?” The bouncy jeep ride had made She-Cat even more irritable than usual and the company she was keeping didn’t help.

“You don’t like us much, do you?”

She-Cat eyed the Lieutenant and the driver. The reports of human rights abuses had been leaking out of this tiny Pacific Rim country for months as the government cracked down on rebel forces. If archaeological evidence hadn’t been discovered on this island showing that Sekhmet had once been worshipped here, she would never have made this trip. “How much further?”

“We’re here. You know, things aren’t always what you think.” The jeep turned a bend in the winding road and the foliage covering the trail disappeared as they entered a clearing full of ramshackle huts. The villagers warily eyed their vehicle as it moved towards the center of town. An old man approached as they stopped. Ignoring the soldiers, he smiled heartily at She-Cat. “Welcome, welcome, my name’s Gregorio, it’s so good of you to come! Please, come with me, I will show you to your accommodations.”

She-Cat looked towards the soldiers for confirmation that this was her intended greeting party. Their only response was to toss her bags out of the jeep. She had just enough time to hop out herself before the vehicle turned and sped away.

She-Cat turned and smiled at the old man who had already scooped up her bags. “Nice place you got here. Tell you what, I’ll carry my bags, you lead the way.”

“Certainly, Miss She-Cat. Did you have a comfortable trip?”

“You mean other than the busted spring in the seat goosing me every time we hit a bump?”

“Oh…I’m sorry. Well, if the bed isn’t to your liking, you let me know.”

The old man swung open a door to one of the huts and ushered She-Cat inside. She found herself in what appeared to be a kitchen, surrounded by a group of people engaged in a vigorous discussion. The room went silent as she entered.

“Come, come, Miss She-Cat. You’ll be staying back here.” The old man disappeared into another room. Nodding to the gape-jawed assembly, She-Cat followed the old man into a bedroom. An open makeup case covered the dressing table and pictures of the old man with several of the people in the kitchen decorated a makeshift bureau.

“Now, Miss She-Cat, the bed is very soft and…”

“Is this your room?”

“Yes.” The old man appeared crestfallen. “It’s not nice enough?”

“I can’t stay in your room!”

“B…but why not?” Suddenly, the man’s face brightened. “Oh, no! You misunderstand. You will have the room to yourself. The woman and I will sleep in another room.”

She-Cat laughed. “No, no, no. It’s your house, you should sleep in your room on your bed. I should sleep in another room.”

“Ohhh, but the bed in the other room is…”

“Is?”

The old man shrugged. “You’d be better off sleeping on the seat of that jeep.”

“I see. Well, I still insist that you keep your bed. Show me the other room, after all, it’s only for a night or two.”

The old man showed She-Cat into another room where she dropped her bags. A quick check of the bed confirmed that he was probably right about how well she would sleep. Still, he was opening up his home to her and it would be rude to complain. “Thank you! This will be fine.”

She followed the old man back into the kitchen. It had somehow become even more crowded. “So, when do I get to see the shrine to Sekhmet?”

The expressions on the faces of those in the room ranged from confusion to amusement. The old man cleared his throat and tried to speak. “Oh…uh…yes…well…here’s the thing…uh…Sekhmet…yes…”

“Father,” a tall dark haired man in his early 20’s cut the old man off. “Tell her!”

“I’m telling, Mateo, I’m telling. Yes, Miss She-Cat. See, the thing is, the Sekhmet thing, is not exactly true.”

“It’s not true at all, dad!”

“EXCUSE ME!”

“I apologize She-Cat. My father thought if he could just get you here, you would help. Nobody actually thought you would come. That’s why we were all so surprised when you first came in the room.”

“So, there’s no archaeological evidence that Sekhmet was worshipped here?”

“No.”

“That was just a lie to get me here?”

“Yes.”

“Please, Miss She-Cat! I know it was terrible to lie to you, but I had no choice. We need your help! What other choice did I have?”

“The truth would have been an option!”

“You wouldn’t have come. You couldn’t have come if you’d known the real reason!”

“Which is?”

“You have to protect us from Colonel Joe and his men!”

“Whuh? Who?”

“Colonel Joe is the leader of the ‘rebels.’ They’re really just a gang of criminals, drugs, guns, but they’ve got everybody fooled into thinking they’re leading some popular uprising. They’ve been moving from town to town, gradually increasing the area under their control by killing anybody who stands in their way. When the government tries to help, Colonel Joe massacres one of the villages under his control and then tells the western human rights organizations that the government did it. Now the government is scared to move against him because they don’t want to risk any more bad press.”

“No, son. The government doesn’t want any more massacres.”

“Either way, we’re next in line for takeover by Colonel Joe’s forces and that’ll mean the end of this town.”

“Please, Miss She-Cat. Help us!”

She-Cat couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The media had made it sound like the rebels were freedom fighters. Could all the human rights organizations and all of the media been so easily played for fools? Come to think of it… Still, the United States official policy was to stay out of this and as a member of a government sanctioned superteam she could hardly get involved. “I can’t. You’re right. If I’d known the real reason, I wouldn’t have even been able to come here.”

“But, we can pay. I’ve saved up some money, many of us have. We could pay you?”

“First you lie to me, and now you insult me! Since when did I become a mercenary? You’re going to pay me to fight your battles for you? I’m afraid I’m going to have to go!”

Tears were streaming down the old man’s face. “Yes, yes. I apologize. I’ll arrange for your transport back to the capital immediately.”

***

“Dusty, you’ve got Proxima! Rayda, don’t let DarkFire get away!”

“We’re on it!”

“I’ve got Valkyra. Synn, see what you can do about Gorgana!”

Any observer would have told the tale of an epic battle. Separated into its’ parts, the combatants were evenly matched. Ms. Victory pounded Valkyra through the side of a building and was herself slammed through a light pole. Stardust and Proxima continued the battle they have waged across galaxies, and Rayda used her powers as a human dynamo to short circuit DarkFire’s Menta Helmet illusions. Meanwhile, Synn and Gorgana conducted a mental duel, fighting each other with mental powers that seemed to have reality spinning like a hurricane. Yes, any observer would have recounted an amazing story if there had been any observers, but the scene wasn’t only spinning because of the combatants reality influencing abilities. It looked like a hurricane because it was a hurricane.

Even as the coast was being evacuated, Ms. Victory had convened a meeting of the available Femforce members and auxiliary members. Tara was on a book signing tour in the southern hemisphere, Nightveil’s whereabouts were unknown but presumably she was studying with Azagoth, and She-Cat had gone to investigate claims of ancient Sekhmet worship on a Pacific Rim island. The natural force of the hurricane was not of concern to the Femforce, the people had been evacuated and the team would help with repairs to any property damage after the storm was spent. However, Ms. Victory knew that the abandoned coastal towns would be unprotected against any criminals powerful enough to brave the 100 m.p.h. winds and flying debris.

Femforce v FearforceIn fact, even before the storm hit, reports indicated that the FearForce had robbed several banks and private museums. In a flash, the Femforce was moving to intercept the criminals and, so, the battle was on. Surprisingly, Rayda was having the easiest time handling the elements. Using her dynamo power to create a magnetic force field around herself, she didn’t have to worry about the flying debris, and the ever present water allowed for a great electrical conductor. DarkFire quickly realized that Rayda’s electrical discharges were interrupting the signal from her Menta Helmet thus rendering it virtually useless. Sensing that she was overmatched, she retreated to the bank vault while avoiding Rayda’s blasts.

Stardust’s stellar energy seemed less effective against the Rurian weaponry utilized by Proxima. Perhaps the conditions had dampened her power. Nevertheless, she managed to hold her own as both Rurians dodged flying automobiles and spear-like shards of glass. A similar stalemate had occurred in the battle between Gorgana and Synn. Synn’s constructs and Gorgana’s monsters took turns defeating one another as their creators constantly directed their attacks to the wrong location.

Ms. Victory’s battle with Valkyra was going surprisingly well for the heroine. Her years of crimefighting had made her less reliant on sheer power and more skilled in tactical combat. She repeatedly caught her opponent from behind and delivered crushing blows which sent Valkyra sailing through the air. Certainly, she wasn’t throwing a shutout and Valkyra had managed to score some hits of her own, but having been pounded many times, Ms. Victory was clearly the fresher of the two fighters as Valkyra began to show signs of weariness.

Ms Victory v Valkyra”Heads up, Valkyra!” Ms. Victory’s uppercut sent the villain shooting across the sky. Moving in to take advantage of the situation, Ms. Victory carefully approached the crumpled criminal. Valkyra struggled to get to her feet but as she was just about to stand a shadowy blur streaked past her. When she finally stood to face the heroine, Ms. Victory was gone. Her head clearing, Valkyra scanned the area for her foe, preparing for another sneak attack, when, to her delight, she saw a shocked Ms. Victory embedded in a brick wall by a large stake truck. The bed of the truck had slammed into the bricks at waist level and Ms. Victory’s arms were pinned against the wall leaving her unable to protect herself. Quick to take advantage of the fortunate turn of events, Valkyra ran full speed at the heroine and launched herself into the air landing a two-fisted piledriver blow to the helpless heroine’s chin. Ms. Victory’s head snapped back, slamming into the brick wall and bouncing off. The woozy heroine struggled to free her arms, but Valkyra continued her assault and pounded Ms. Victory with crushing rights and lefts to the chin until the heroine’s shoulders sagged and her strength faded. Reveling in her foe’s defeat, Valkyra rushed to the street corner and dislodged a stop sign that had been blown to the ground. Returning to the truck, she sprang onto the bed and stood before the defeated heroine.

Valkyra wins?”Ha, ha, ha. Finally, I have proven my superiority. Gaze up at the one who has vanquished you, American swine! Know that it is Valkyra who has claimed the final victory!”

With an effort Ms. Victory managed to raise her head. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped as she beheld Valkyra poised before her. The villain’s arms were raised above her head, both hands clutching the twisted metal sign pole, as she prepared to plunge the jagged edge through Ms. Victory’s chest.

“That’s right! Fear me, Ms. Victory! Fear the one who has stopped you forever!!!”

***

She-Cat leaned back in the rickety wooden chair and put her legs up on the rails of the weathered porch. She was in a foul mood. A long uncomfortable ride out here based on a lie, being treated like some gun-for-hire, being asked to get in the middle of a “civil” war on what everybody else in the world would consider to be the wrong side, and now, waiting, amidst all this disappointment, for a ride out of here. She sipped on a sweetly flavored tea and tried to be mad at somebody. The problem was, for some reason she couldn’t understand, the only person she was mad at was herself for not being able to help. Heck, she should be mad at the old man. He had lied to her. He had tricked her into coming here out of some illusion that she was some mercenary who would come to the rescue. Maybe that was the problem. He’d gone about it in the wrong way, but his reasons were valid. He had to lie for the chance that she would help, and isn’t helping people what she did?

The sound of a jeep moving down the street interrupted her thoughts. It stopped a short distance away and three men armed with automatic weapons jumped out. Their garb was not that of the local military. They exchanged glances in her direction, but ultimately they moved away towards the middle of the village where a large crowd had gathered. She-Cat could see Gregorio addressing them, but she couldn’t hear the conversation. Her curiosity piqued, she deliberately got to her feet and moved closer. As she approached their jeep, her keen hearing picked up enough of the dialogue to establish that these were some of Colonel Joe’s men and they had come to claim the village. She-Cat leaned against the side of the jeep wondering if she should intervene in some way. The old man was trying to convince the rebels that the village wasn’t important enough for them to control. Shaking her head at the futility of his argument, She-Cat glanced down at the spring protruding from the seat of the jeep. A closer inspection also revealed bullet holes in the seat covers and dried blood. Her head swimming she could hear the Lieutenant’s voice telling her that “things aren’t always what you think.” Now she was mad at somebody beside herself.

“Hey!” She moved into the street, the late afternoon sun at her back. “Where’d you get this jeep?”

The rebels turned to face her, squinting into the sun. One of them took a few steps in her direction. “What business is it of yours?”

In the blink of his sweat-soaked eye, she was on top of him like a blur, her razor sharp nails digging into the underside of his jaw. “I’m making it my business!”

From behind him, one of his buddies offered, “Hey, hey, it’s cool! Chill out! My uncle gave me the jeep last year as a present.”

“Yeah, h.hh..his uncle g..gave it to him!”

The unmitigated gall of the lie was offensive. Pushing the rebel back towards his friends, She-Cat said, “What’s your business here?”

The third rebel finally piped up. “We’re having a private conversation with some friends.”

“You have all your ‘private conversations’ in the middle of the street in the center of town? Get out of here now and I won’t rip your lying lungs out.”

Looking at each other in surprise, but unwilling to confront their strange adversary, the rebels began to move toward the jeep.

“Uh-uh-uh, the jeep stays here! I had a chance to get to know it personally this morning and we’ve gotten rather close.”

Scowling the three rebels reluctantly trudged off into the rainforest, setting off a great cheer from the crowd. The old man joyously ran up and hugged She-Cat, thanking her for saving the town. Everyone seemed to be celebrating. Everyone but She-Cat and Mateo. Gregorio’s son just looked at her and shook his head sadly. She knew she had just taken it on herself to save this town.

***

Tara smiles for the camerasTara smiled and tried not to blink as the thousandth flash bulb went off. Another fan’s request to have his picture taken with the Jungle Girl satisfied, she sat back down and continued to autograph copies of her book for the assembled throng. For a scholarly treatise on conservation it was getting quite the reception from the masses, although she suspected the overwhelming majority had less interest in saving the rainforest than in ogling the author. If every autograph and photo didn’t raise money for the cause, she never would have agreed to do this international book signing tour. The only benefit was that in her down time she’d been able to visit some beautiful countryside. After today’s signing in Sydney, Australia, she was going to get a short tour of part of the Outback before heading to Fiji for a signing tomorrow morning and then on to the Philippines.

She finished signing another copy of her book and, once again, graciously agreed to pose for another photograph. Another smile lit up the room and another charitable contribution was logged in the ledger. Exhausted, Tara turned to her friend, Janis Lawson. “Didn’t you say She-Cat was going to be checking out an archaeological site around here somewhere?”

“Yeah, well, up closer to the Philippines, I think.”

“Maybe tomorrow after Fiji, we can drop in and surprise her?”

“Ehh, I’ve got a lot of stuff to do in the Philippines before the event there. You should go, though, she’d appreciate it if you stopped to see her.”

“Stuff to do. Yeah, right. You just think Cat doesn’t like you.”

“She doesn’t. She can be so mean sometimes!”

“I keep telling you, don’t pay attention to what she says, pay attention to what she does.”

“That’s easy for you to say, she’s nice to you.”

Laughing, Tara watched another flash of light go off in her face. “No, she’s not!”

***

She-Cat couldn’t tell if Gregorio lived in a house or a social club. It seemed the whole village was in his kitchen jabbering excitedly about how Colonel Joe’s men had been driven away. She had avoided involvement in the discussion by heading straight for the theoretical privacy of her room where she sat ponderously on perhaps the most uncomfortable bed in modern creation. The unknowing joy in the kitchen was so palpable that it was making her sick to her stomach. The people had no idea that her irresponsible actions had sealed their fate.

In another small room, She-Cat could hear Mateo speaking with one of the young ladies in the village. He was upset and she was urging him to “go in and talk to her, then!” She-Cat wasn’t sure what to think about Mateo. It was clear that he hadn’t supported his father’s idea to bring in help, but he seemed to revere the old man and she got the sense that Mateo was being torn apart by this situation. She wondered if he wasn’t a rebel sympathizer. His dismay when she drove the advance party away had been evident. Of course, he may have known what she knew, that it wasn’t the end but the beginning of the end. Still, she sensed that he resented what she’d done.

She wasn’t surprised when there was a knock on the wall outside the room and Mateo appeared in the doorway. “Can I please speak to you? I’ve been talking to my friend, May, and I think today, what you did, was a big mistake!”

“Come on in, Mateo. Take a load off.”

“That bed is…very uncomfortable, even to sit on. I think I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s your house. So, you came in here to tell me off for getting involved?”

“It was very foolish. Colonel Joe will be very mad and he will come with a lot of men and they will kill everybody who is a ‘problem,’ like my father!”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll have to figure out a way to stop that from happening.”

“You’re one person, even if you are some big-time American superhero. You can’t stop bullets. Even if you can save yourself now, you can’t save us. Even if you held him off for a week or a month, eventually you’d have to leave and the Colonel would get us.”

“It seems I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh? If I had turned a blind eye this afternoon, what would that have said about the kind of things this Colonel Joe has done? What would it have said about liberty? You’re right, though, if it’s just me it won’t be enough to stop him.”

She-Cat stood and walked into the kitchen where the celebration remained lively. Her appearance brought a hush and then a crescendo of applause which died out in response to the serious expression on her face. “You shouldn’t be celebrating, you should be preparing for war. Colonel Joe will be back, tomorrow, and he’ll have an army with him. I’m not going to be enough to make him forget about this village forever. In fact, what I did today is going to guarantee that he shows up tomorrow determined to make the destruction of this village a lesson for every other village he hasn’t yet conquered. No, I’m not going to be enough because I can’t beat an army alone, because I can’t stop the men on the left from shooting all of you while I’m fighting the men on the right. The only way for this village to escape subjugation by Colonel Joe is for this village to fight for itself. I’ll help you. I’ll do what I can. You have to fight him off, you have to make it not worth his while to control this village, you have to fight for your own liberty. That means some of you will die. That means I may die. He’ll be here tomorrow. I guarantee it. I’ll stand at the front to take him on, but if you don’t stand up for yourselves, he’ll slaughter us all.

***

Valkyra’s eyes blazed as she prepared to plunge the proverbial stake through her enemy’s heart. Her scream of triumph was accompanied by simultaneous thunder and lightning signalling the end. A helpless Ms. Victory could only close her eyes and wait for the twisted steel to penetrate her breast. The mental anguish of the final moment seemed to last an eternity. Seconds passed and Ms. Victory could still feel her chest heaving with the intake of each breath. Finally, unable to bear it any longer she opened her eyes to see an unconscious Valkyra prone on the bed of the truck before her. Ms. Victory blinked disbelievingly, before nervously chuckling in relief. Just as the storm had given Valkyra an assist earlier, it had now delivered Ms. Victory from evil. The lightning strike had been drawn to the metal stop sign and the force of the electrical surge running from the pole through Valkyra’s body had knocked her cold. Ms. Victory could see her foe was still alive, but she was out like a light. Letting out a deep breath of relief, Ms. Victory summoned her strength and managed to dislodge the truck enough to free her arms. Once her arms were free, it was a simple matter to push the bed clear of her body so that she could extract herself from the brick wall and take Valkyra into custody.

With Valkyra out of the way, Ms. Victory could assist the rest of the team in dispatching their opponents. Proxima had managed to herd Stardust into a confined space and she had Dusty in her sights when Ms. Victory swooped in from behind to snatch the former Rurian general’s weapons from her hands. Taking advantage of Proxima’s surprise at Ms. Victory’s appearance, Stardust caught her with a stellar blast that left the warrior unconscious.

Rayda appeared at the entrance of the bank with Menta Helmet in hand and DarkFire in tow. The spy had decided that given the conditions, the best course of action would be unconditional surrender. After all, she who lives, lives to fight another day, and running around in the middle of a hurricane wasn’t everything her compatriots had said it would be.

Upon seeing her accomplices captured, Gorgana slipped away, leaving Synn’s constructs to finish up their battle against Gorgana’s monsters. In short time, the captured villainesses were again incarcerated in their specially constructed cells and the Femforce had returned to headquarters.

“We were very lucky to get out of this encounter without any casualties and with only Gorgana escaping.”

“Oh, come on Ms. Victory, I thought we handled ourselves pretty well. I mean, I don’t know about the rest of you but DarkFire gave in to me pretty fast.”

“Well, I was having difficulty with Proxima but Ms. Victory handled Valkyra so easily that she was able to come to my aid.”

“Yeah, every time I caught a glimpse of your battle with Valkyra while I was playing with Gorgana, you were wiping the floor with her. Valkyra never had a chance!”

A faint smile crossing her lips, Ms. Victory looked down and contemplated the unmarked skin on her chest. “Yeah, she never had a chance.”

***

Dawn’s breath was slowly lifting from the ground as the late morning sun warmed what was left of the cool night air. Through the haze, faceless numbers appeared at a treeline forming a wraithlike battalion. A mass of at least 100 men marched resolutely toward the village where the emboldened villagers waited behind their champion to receive them. The cobbled together citizens’ militia had armed themselves with whatever weapons they could find. Old pistols, knives, bows, and arrows, abounded. An audible murmur of despair could be heard when their enemy drew close enough for the rebels’ superior firepower to become evident. She-Cat could hear the whispers behind her suggesting that, perhaps, it was not too late to seek the rebels’ mercy. Her chest tightened. No matter how many times she’d taken on impossible odds, she always felt the pull of her mortality. A little fear to get the adrenalin going. She watched the rebels move inexorably toward the village, their rifles by their sides. Certainly, this was how they had cowed recalcitrant villagers in the past. The show of superior force was more than enough, why waste the bullets when surrender could be achieved without a shot and dissidents handled after total control had been established? The rebel force stopped 10 yards in front of her and the first line raised their rifles and trained them on the village. A man at the back of the troop stepped onto a tree stump and raised himself above the crowd.

“Hello, American hero! I’ve admired you for years! The savage She-Cat! I really don’t want to kill you, but if you insist on standing in my way, I’m afraid that I may have little choice. Why don’t you go home to the United States and stay out of this business which is really none of your concern?”

She-Cat stood her ground, eyeing the rebel leader intently. He was right, of course. She’d gotten involved in something that she wished she hadn’t, but under the circumstances she didn’t see that she had a choice. The village had asked for a hero to help them. They’d asked for her to help them, and the politics of this island nation aside, she knew that helping these villagers save themselves and their village was the right thing to do. She knew she was fighting on the side of right just as surely as she knew that this battle was unwinnable. She couldn’t stop automatic weapon fire from killing these villagers, and, eventually, herself. She couldn’t save this village, but she had to try. So her eyes hardened, and her jaw clenched, and with a look she signalled her answer.

“So, it’s a ‘no’ is it? Why do you protect these people? They have no honor. They’ve already forsaken you and melted into the shadows of their homes. Would you really stand alone against an army for the likes of them?!?”

She-Cat didn’t even have to turn around to verify that she was standing alone. She could feel her isolation. Only Gregorio moving closer to her provided any support. The rest of the citizens’ militia was gone, their instinct for self-preservation having overcome their desire for continued freedom. She felt the old man’s trembling hand at her side.

“Ms. She-Cat, it was wrong of me to draw you into this. This is not your village. It is not your problem. It is not your fight. He will let you leave if you go now. It would be best for you if you left.”

She-Cat moved her hand to his shoulder while never taking her eyes off the rebels. “He’d let me leave, you’re right, but he’d kill you before I was out of sight.”

“I’m a foolish old man, perhaps…”

“I can’t allow it, move behind me.” “Colonel, if I allow the slaughter of this village then I’m also complicit in the slaughter of the next. You know, I can’t do that.”

“Bah! Foolish woman! You can’t stop me! It’s not bravery but stupidity to die for no reason!”

“Maybe, but do you really want to kill an American hero? You won’t be able to pawn off my death on the government. It wouldn’t withstand the scrutiny of a real investigation and there would be repercussions. The whole world would find out about your deception. The individuals and organizations who’ve been duped by your ‘freedom fighter’ act would disappear into the night and an international force would come in and hunt you down!”

The color drained from the Colonel’s face, to be replaced by a glimpse of anger, and, finally, a smirk. “Yes, you have a point. So, we are at an impasse. I cannot kill you, but you are still one against many. I don’t have to kill you to take this village, just capture you. Men! Don’t kill her, if she dies I’ll shoot the persons responsible, but I want her subdued and brought to me! Now!!!”

“You won’t need them to bring me to you, I’ll be with you in a second!!!”

With lightning quickness She-Cat bounded forward and leaped into the massed rebels. Taken aback by the speed and ferocity of her attack, they could scarcely react as they fell by the twos and fours from a variety of slashes, punches, and kicks.
Leaping airborne she moved across the tops of their heads, knocking two rebels out by smashing their heads together as she lashed out with both legs to kick two others in the face and send them reeling backwards.

Landing on the ground in a crouch, she executed a forward roll ending with a boot to the groin and a straight right to the nose of the now doubled over soldier.

Flipping backwards to her feet, she delivered a reverse chop to the neck of one rebel and a straight kick to the gut of another.

The Colonel watched astounded as he saw his troops being mowed down by nothing less than a tidal wave. Soldiers unaccustomed to fighting an enemy without pulling a trigger receded before her. Stepping down from his perch, he moved away from his position, avoiding the current ripping through his men.

The battle raged for almost an hour as a seemingly inexhaustible She-Cat fought through an army trying to get to their elusive leader. Soldiers discarded in the first few minutes recovered only to be victimized again and again as she pressed her assault.

She-Cat fights Colonel Joe’s men

The fight continues!
Vaulting off a rebel shoulder, she scissor-kicked a pair of his friends into unconsciousness before kidney-punching him to his knees.

Using his back to launch herself into the air, she spotted the Colonel’s new position even as she wrapped her legs around the neck of another soldier and twisted him to the ground.

Moving into a crouch, she bulled forward between a new opponent’s legs and flipped him over her shoulders as she stood up just in time for her eyes to focus on a hammy fist about to smash into her face. The punch sent her reeling and she tripped over the moaning body of the soldier she had backflipped to land, blinking the cobwebs away, on her butt.
It was really the first substantial blow she had taken, but combined with the energy she had expended it was enough to turn the tide as a dozen men leapt on her to hold her down while they wildly delivered whatever blows they could. Soon she was surrounded by bruised and bleeding rebels seeking to exact some measure of revenge for their injuries even as she lashed out to deliver more punishment.

Too many blows delivered by too many attackers began to have their effect. There were just too many people to overcome and now the pain began to dominate her senses as boots and rifle butts and fists crashed into bones. The ceaseless barrage rained down upon her until all she could do was curl up and try to protect the most vital areas of her body. Finally, when she could barely see through the pain, the Colonel ordered his men to stop.
The tide turns
An ultimatum Walking up to the fallen heroine, the Colonel watched as she shakily tried to maneuver herself onto her knees. He lashed out with a kick to her jaw which sent her sprawling onto her back.

“That was a most impressive battle She-Cat. In fact, you’ve managed to decimate my force so completely that I’m not going to be able to take this village today. You have no idea how angry that makes me!”

She-Cat again tried to get to her knees, only to be driven back down onto her side by a boot to an already damaged rib. A short intake of breath through clenched teeth signalled the pain. With a toe under her collar, the Colonel rolled her over onto her back. “Grab the old man that stood with her!”

With a single step, the Colonel placed his boot squarely onto the fallen heroine’s chest and leaned over her, shifting his weight onto her body and digging his heel into her skin. Staring down at the semi-conscious She-Cat, his lips curled into an evil smile. “We’re taking the old man with us. We’ll be back tomorrow. If you’re still here, you’ll watch him die!”

His message delivered, the rebels melted back into the forest, leaving the defeated She-Cat laying spread eagle on the empty field of battle to sink into unconsciousness with the Colonel’s ultimatum ringing in her ears.

chapter two

THAT CUNNING ENEMY

Nightveil on Dark DhagorStumbling across the inhospitable terrain of Dhagor, the terrorized figure sought refuge behind a rocky outcropping. Her raven hair matted with sweat and dirt and her cyan clothing in tatters, she furtively peered around the volcanic formation seeking some sign of her pursuer. Relieved to have gained a respite, she sank back against the stone and attempted to catch her breath.

An involuntary shudder ran through Nightveil’s body. She had been summoned to Dhagor by her mentor, Azagoth, but no sign of his presence was evident on the desolate plane. Instead, she had been greeted by a dark figure who had wordlessly engaged her in mystic battle. The Sorceress, well-schooled in the dark arts, had easily been able to protect herself from the wizardry which she initially faced and soon she was able to counterattack. In stunning succession, she used a wide array of her powers to hurl bolts of occult energy at her attacker while mentally probing for some clue as to his intentions.

However, the shadowy presence was clearly a powerful sorcerer himself, for he obliterated the energy bolts with a wave of the sceptre he held in his hand and easily repelled her mental advance. Calling out a spell of enchantment, Nightveil attempted to encircle him in a magical net, but again he shattered the energy bands with a mere wave of his staff. Clearly amused by her efforts, he sent a wave of energy toward the mystic maiden which forced her back against a canyon wall. Surprised that her protection spell had been less than effective, Nightveil doubled her defense shields just as the mystic wave broke over her. Shrugging off the pounding, she created a quagmire at the feet of the mage, but with a touch of his staff he again stood on solid ground.

Consternation was evident in the face of the Sorceress Supreme as she eyed her opponent. He was garbed in loose fitting cloth, dark as pitch, which covered him from head to toe. Upon closer inspection, the folds of his clothing revealed all manner of amulets and mystic charms, several of which seemed familiar to the pupil of Azagoth.

“Sorcerer, identify yourself!”

“Is it not clear, witch? Can you not see?!?” His rumbling voice cascaded around her as he strode confidently forward.

Boxed in, Nightveil sought some clue to his identity in his face. His features were obscured by the shadows from his hood. She could only make out his eyes, which appeared to be orbs of fire surrounded by rings of lightning. Her gaze turned again to the amulets. The necklace looked much like the charm worn by the sorcerer, T’uva Ra, and she had once seen a ring like that on the finger of a witch named Saaviena. Nightveil’s blood ran cold as she pieced together the mystery.

“Ahh, I see a measure of understanding has breached your peanut of a brain. Yes, witch, I am a predator and, at present, you are my prey!”

The witch hunter conjured a giant fly swatter and brought it crashing down on the stunned sorceress. Her protective spell spared her from injury but she was bashed about nonetheless. Striking back weakly, Nightveil engineered a lightning strike from behind, but the electrical impulse was attracted to the metal sceptre and did no bodily injury. Indeed, the dark mage seemed energized by every attack even as Nightveil felt her power weakening. He laughed when she cast a spell to turn him into stone, and soaked in the occult energy before continuing his advance. As he approached, he eliminated every route of escape until he stood glaring down at her.

Nightveil v Rehtam”You don’t have much left, do you, Sorceress Supreme?” The sarcasm in his use of the appellation dripped off his tongue as he brought his staff crashing down onto her shoulder. In an instant, her protection spell had disintegrated and she was driven down onto her knees. Whirling the staff as a weapon, he twirled it around and brought the head of the sceptre up into her chin. The force of the blow lifted her back up onto her feet for the instant it took him to bring the staff of the sceptre crashing into her midsection. Doubling over, she crumpled to her knees gasping for breath. Nightveil felt icy fingers grasp her by the hair and pull her up off the ground until she was suspended in the air. A gloved hand grabbed her by the neck and slammed her back into the canyon wall. “Any last words?”

A velvet fist punched the Sorcerer in the throat causing him to release his hold, and, as she dropped to the ground, a lavender pump kicked him in the shin resulting in a howl of pain and curses. Memories of her career battling thugs as the crimefighting Blue Bulleteer flitted across her thoughts, but it would take more than fisticuffs to defeat this powerful enemy. Nightveil darted past her assailant and attempted to mystically transport herself back to her Sanctum Sanctorom in the Florida Everglades. To her shock, her power fizzled and her journey took her only to the far side of Dhagor. Again she tried to leave the mystic plane, and again she was unsuccessful. Bereft of sorcery, Nightveil had no recourse but to travel by foot in an effort to elude the hunter who, no doubt, was in pursuit.

She fled across the landscape until she finally found respite behind a volcanic formation. As she leaned back against the stone and attempted to catch her breath, an involuntary shudder ran through her body. Her mystical powers exhausted, she would stand no chance if the witch hunter should find her. He would not again overconfidently allow her the option of a physical assault. Where was Azagoth? Could he have already been defeated? Nightveil put the thought out of her mind. If Azagoth had been defeated then she stood no chance of survival. She strained to think of some course of action which would enable her to defeat the dark mage, but without her magical powers the task would be difficult, if not impossible. Of course, she sardonically noted, she hadn’t been all that successful with her powers.

Nightveil captured
The Sorceress felt something slither across her stomach. Looking down she was shocked to see a rocky tendril snaking from the formation behind her and binding her at the waist. Two stone hands appeared out of the rock and grabbed her around the arms. Her body was pulled tight against the weathered juggernaut while another stony tendril grabbed her around her neck and immobilized her head. Finally, two more hands grew from the rock and seized her ankles. The Dark Sorcerer materialized before her.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to kick me in my shin, witch!”

Trying to quell her growing fear, the Mystic Maiden demonstrated cool arrogance. “Next time, I’ll aim higher.”

Nightveil watched the Mage’s sceptre reach out and touch her on the forehead. Immediately, her thoughts were engulfed in a sea of turbulence and her body convulsed as though it were being torn apart from the inside. Quivering lips cried out for Azagoth as her mind went blank and she sank into unconsciousness.

***

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Not long.”

“I thought you were jet-setting it in Australia.”

“Australia was yesterday. Fiji was this morning. Thought you might be bored out here in the middle of nowhere so I decided to make a little side trip. I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your little vacation.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. When did you start cracking wise?”

“I’ve been taking notes.”

“Yeah? Well, stop. It doesn’t suit you.” She-Cat shifted her position on the bed. “So, how much do you know?”

“The way I heard it from most of the villagers, you showed up out here unbidden and, against their wishes, decided to attack the great liberating force of Colonel somebody. He left you beaten, unconscious in a field, and as punishment for your actions took one of the village elders.”

“Oh. Is that what happened?”

“That’s what they said. They also said they would have left you out there, but apparently the old man’s wife got her son to bring you back here to recover from your injuries.”

“Ha…owww! Darn rib! Yeah, Mateo probably figured I was too comfortable out there laying on the ground and that I’d suffer a lot more in this bed.”

“Yeah, Mateo’s not real happy with you. He did provide a slightly more plausible account of what happened, though. He said his father tricked you into coming here to stop some evil men from destroying the village and that instead of walking away from a fool’s errand you managed to make the situation worse. Frankly, it has a ring of truth to it which makes me believe him.”

An agitated She-Cat glared at Tara. “You have no idea. Don’t come in here and tell me I screwed up. I know I screwed up! I just don’t know how I could’ve done anything differently without something else bad happening. You know, sometimes things don’t get handed to you on a silver platter!”

“Cat, don’t get mad at me cause you got your butt kicked. I won’t be your personal whipping girl because you’re mad at yourself!”

A knock interrupted the brewing argument. It was Mateo’s girlfriend, May. “Excuse me, Ms. Fremont? What are you planning on doing about Mateo’s father?”

The Jungle Girl and She-Cat stared at each other in stony silence. Finally, Tara offered, “We’ll put our heads together and come up with something. Don’t worry.”

After May had left, She-Cat muttered, “See? That’s how it starts, and the next thing you know, bam, you’re fighting 100 people all by yourself.”

“I’m not fighting anybody. This country’s civil war is none of my business.”

“Mm-hmm. Alright, Too Tall, let me tell you a story.”

For the next few minutes, She-Cat recounted the previous day’s events for the Jungle Girl. When she was finished she waited for Tara’s response.

“Sounds like you were between a rock and a hard place.”

“I still am. I can’t walk away and let the village fall to Colonel Joe’s tyranny, but I don’t want Gregorio’s blood on my hands.”

“Mmm-hmm. Well, we have until noon tomorrow to come up with a plan. Maybe a good night’s rest will make everything clear in the morning.”

“Maybe, but sleep isn’t going to come easy. By the way, where are you bunking?”

Tara came over and pressed her hands into the mattress. “Well, I was thinking maybe you’d give up the other half of this bed to a friend in need, but, on second thought, I think I’d be more comfortable finding a nice soft patch of grass on the ground outside.”

She-Cat smiled knowingly, and as Tara made her way out of the room called after her. “Just like a pampered rich kid! You just have to sleep in the lap of luxury!”

Tara laughingly shot back, “What can I say, I’m spoiled.”

As she disappeared through the doorway, the Jungle Girl barely heard She-Cat say, “Glad you decided to stop by, friend.” Tara knew better than to acknowledge the sentiment.

***

“Wow! It’s so bright and sunny, it’s hard to believe a hurricane just passed through here.”

Stardust surveyed the billions of dollars of property damage evident as far as the eye could see. “Umm, Synn? Are you going to help with cleanup or not?”

Synn smiled merrily and turned again to help Stardust repair structural damage to local buildings. Rayda was working to safely restore electrical power, while Ms. Victory did most of the heavy lifting, clearing up the tons of debris strewn across the landscape. It was not overturned vehicles, however, but Gorgana’s escape which weighed heavily on the Femforce leader’s mind. The ghoul had caused the team a lot of trouble over the years and the thought of her on the loose was not a pleasant one. Moreover, as usual, Nightveil could not be contacted which meant that Ms. Victory couldn’t even warn the Sorceress to be on the lookout for her sworn enemy nor could she count on Nightveil’s superior magic to capture Gorgana.

Synn, Stardust and Ms Victory aid in the clean upAs she righted a pickup truck and pulled it away from the shattered storefront through which it had been propelled, Ms. Victory watched Synn make wacky faces in an attempt to get Stardust to laugh. The Rurian scientist obliged her immature companion by cracking a smile before again coaxing Synn back to work. Synn’s synestrophic powers had proven very effective in battling Gorgana. Ms. Victory concluded that, in Nightveil’s absence, Synn would be the key to capturing the ghoul. If Synn could keep Gorgana mentally occupied, then the ghoul would be less able to protect herself from being knocked unconscious by an undetected physical assault. Ms. Victory could only hope that Gorgana didn’t do too much damage before the plan could be put into action. The approach of a police officer interrupted the red, white, and blue clad heroine’s thoughts.

“Excuse me, Ms. Victory? There’s a priority call for you from a General Strock?”

“Thank you, officer.” Ms. Victory had barely raised the receiver to her ear when she heard the General’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Ms. Victory, we’ve got a problem. I need all of you to report back to Femforce Headquarters immediately.”

“What’s going on?”

“That means now!”

Roberta’s curtness with her, which was highly unusual, clarified the urgency of the situation. Ms. Victory dutifully rounded up her crew and they sped back to headquarters. General Strock met them in the conference room.

“Ladies, less than an hour ago, we received an emergency transmission from Colt. There was a lot of static and it was mostly inaudible. We digitized it and took out all the static. Here’s what’s left. Listen carefully!”

“(begin transmission)….found……….warehouse by…pier. Looks like he’s waiting for someone…try to get closer…..Where’d she come from?!? I think I may have been sp……..Try to hide…No…(gunshot)…Ungh!…No! NOOOO! (end of transmission).”

***

The sun had travelled halfway in its’ arc across the daylight sky when Colonel Joe’s men moved across the field where only yesterday they had been engaged in a singular battle. As they approached the village, She-Cat strode out to meet them. The opposing forces again confronted each other.

She-Cat stood alone. Her feet shoulder-width apart. Her arms by her sides. Her fists clenched. From the safety of his rear guard, Colonel Joe ordered his men to bring him the old man.

“I warned you what would happen if you were still here, woman. His blood is on your hands!”

“We’re going to stop that from happening.”

“We?!? You and who? The same villagers who abandoned you yesterday? The only person who stood with you is about to die!”

Tara plucks Gregorio from Colonel JoeDropping down noiselessly from high in the trees, the Jungle Girl moved out into the field behind the Colonel’s unprotected rear flank. Having drawn as close as she could without being detected, she grew to a height of fifty feet tall. She-Cat motioned with her head for the Colonel to look behind him.

Turning to face a leg the size of a tree trunk, the Colonel craned his neck upward. Tara leaned over and snatched Gregorio from his grasp. Sweat streaming down his forehead, the Colonel stumbled backwards away from the Giantess.

“My friend, She-Cat, thinks we should destroy your ‘army’ and take you in chains to government officials. I’m willing to go along with that, but then you might try to create the perception that agents of the United States crushed your movement for ‘freedom.’ In the end, wiping you out might put our government on the wrong end of a public relations nightmare. So, we’ve decided not to interfere in what our government officially considers to be your nation’s civil war. Instead, we’re going to notify human rights organizations to send unbiased observers to monitor this village. I’m a big contributor, so I’m sure if you do anything out of line, the world will find out the real truth about your movement. Until observers get here, She-Cat and I are going to stick around. If anything happens to these villagers, you’ll personally answer to us. Got that?”

Having recovered his composure, Colonel Joe steamed at the unexpected turn of events. His contact in the village had not warned him of the arrival of another heroine. What was it about this village that heroes from half a world away were seemingly rushing to its defense. Still, he was not easily deterred and he knew that if he allowed himself to be turned away from taking this village he would lose the confidence of his men and fuel future displays of intransigence in other villages. Through gritted teeth, he assented to Tara’s question even as he plotted a way out of this debacle.

“Good! Then you and your men can leave. Now!”

Glaring back at the Giantess, Colonel Joe gathered his men and marched them away into the bush. She-Cat looked at Tara with a raised eyebrow. “I still think we should have kept him prisoner until the observers showed up!”

“How do you think it would look if we took the leader of another nation’s freedom fighters captive?”

“Yeah, but you don’t really think he’s gone for good, do you? Now he’s free to attack us on his terms!”

“If we can protect the village for another day, two at the most, that should be enough time for independent observers to show up. Once the organizations who’ve mistakenly given him international support are on the scene, he won’t be able to risk losing that support by wiping out the villagers.”

“That just means if he wants this village, he’s got to come after the two of us, hard and fast.”

“Yeah, the two of us against an army. I wish we could call in the team for help, but we’re not even supposed to be involved in this ourselves.”

She-Cat nudged Tara in the ribs. “You know, Too Tall, this would almost be a fair fight…if he had more men.”

***

A defeated NightveilThe Dark Mage strode to the very center of Dhagor, adorned with the cloak of darkness. Nightveil, the cloak’s owner, was folded neatly across his shoulder. The former Sorceress Supreme hung limply, her arms and legs dangling loosely with each stride. Having reached his destination, the witch hunter grabbed her wrists in one hand and slung her around to hold her up triumphantly as a sign of his victory.

“Azagoth, it’s time to come out and play!”

He received no response, save a chill wind whistling across the plain.

“Can’t you see I have your pupil, Azagoth? Is this not enough to shame your cowardly soul into facing me?”

Flinging the defeated sorceress to the ground, he strode around her body. “You can have her back if you defeat me Azagoth. I’ve taken her power, but if you face me I may spare her life.”

Like a whisper echoing through cavernous hallways, Nightveil felt the presence searching through her mind. Azagoth explored his unconscious pupil’s memories for some hint of a way to defeat the powerful force which was calling him to battle. The being, known as Rehtam Nottoc, had grown substantially in power since the last time Azagoth had been aware of his presence. Eons ago, his crusade against sorcery had posed no threat. However, Rehtam Nottoc had recently obtained the Sceptre of Valoo which drained the power of a sorcerous attack. He had used the sceptre to defeat an increasing number of mages and, with each victory, Rehtam Nottoc’s power grew. Azagoth had summoned Nightveil to Dhagor to warn her about the power of the Sceptre of Valoo, but Rehtam Nottoc had arrived on the plane before his pupil. Unable to engage the witch hunter in mystical battle, Azagoth had been forced to secret himself and hope that Nightveil was able to discover a weakness which could be exploited. Obviously, as he leafed through the jumbled file cabinet of her brain, she had been largely unsuccessful. Azagoth could discern no chink in Rehtam Nottoc’s armor against magical attack.

In her unconscious state, Nightveil heard Azagoth speaking to her. “My pupil, I have repaired the disorder in your mind and imparted to you all that I know about Rehtam Nottoc and the Sceptre of Valoo. I have also given you enough mystical power to protect yourself for a short time. Soon you will regain consciousness. You must flee this plane. It is the only hope for both of us.”

Growing impatient with Azagoth’s lack of response, Rehtam Nottoc scowled as he walked over to the fallen sorceress. Pulling her onto her knees by the back of her top, he reached into the folds of his clothing and extracted a vial of puce-colored liquid which he opened and tipped towards her parted lips. “Azagoth, you know the effect this will have on her. Do you wish it upon her to wander limbo as one of the mindless living dead for the rest of her existence?!?”

“Enough!!!”

Rehtam Nottoc let the unconscious heroine fall back into the dirt and replaced the vial in his clothing. “It’s about time! I was beginning to think you had no affection for your pupil.”

“She has served her purpose and identified your weakness, now I will exploit my advantage!”

“Ha! Your words betray themselves as mere bluster. She identified no weakness. She fell as easily as all the others. The best she could manage was to whimper for your help before I drained her of her power. If she had found a weakness would she be laying defeated in the di…eh?”

Nightveil escapesTo his surprise, Nightveil had regained consciousness and managed to crawl to her feet. Azagoth opened a dimensional hole. “Go, child!”

“No! She will not escape me!!!”

As Nightveil dove through the mystical hole, Rehtam Nottoc reached out a dark arm which extended out to stop her flight. Nightveil felt his hand snare her foot, but she twisted out of his grasp and left him clutching only her lavender pump as she hurtled through the void. Azagoth closed the dimensional hole behind her just as she heard Rehtam Nottoc scream, “Just for that, Wizard, I will bring her back and leave her lifeless corpse at your feet as a reminder to you in your last few moments of the consequences of your cowardice in refusing to face me!”

***

Tara moved through the jungle foliage effortlessly. Mateo had disappeared shortly after the day’s excitement and it was becoming increasingly clear to the heroines that he was a rebel sympathizer. Love being blind, however, May had slipped off to find him and now Tara followed the girl’s trail and hoped that she could reach her before May came to harm. In only 20 minutes, Tara emerged from the trees and jogged into a clearing near the river bank. She was immediately greeted by the sound of voices which had previously been obscured by the dense bush. It was Colonel Joe and a handful of his men, and they had May! The Jungle Girl stopped and sought to melt back into the treeline, but shouts from the rebels established that she had already been detected. Standing at the edge of the clearing, she started to assess the situation when Colonel Joe called out to her.

“Jungle Girl! What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“I came to check on May. It looks like it’s a good thing that I did. You’ll let her go if you know what’s good for you!”

Tara heard movement in the jungle behind her. Most likely more rebels had circled around for a sneak attack. That would explain Colonel Joe’s cavalier attitude toward her presence. She gave no hint that she had heard their footfall. She had to get closer to the Colonel if she was going to be able to help May, but the rebels were well-armed and even if she escaped their bullets in a frontal attack there was no guarantee that May would be alive when she made it to the riverbank. She sensed three sets of footsteps approaching cautiously from behind and allowed a smile to play across her face. Raising her arms and then locking her fingers behind her head, she turned and acknowledged the three rifles trained on her.

Colonel Joe could scarcely conceal his glee. “I think now, Jungle Girl, that you will come quietly if you know ‘what’s good for you.’”

Tara dejectedly moved across the clearing, prodded by the gun barrels poking her in the back. As she got about 10 steps away she began to use her growing power. The optical illusion that she was just getting closer would buy her some time with Colonel Joe and the men surrounding him, but the three at her back knew immediately what was happening. With lightning quickness, Tara employed her fighting skills to send all three flying with a roundhouse kick. As she continued to grow, it only took her another step to reach Colonel Joe. The Colonel forlornly stared up at the giantess towering above him.

“Heh, heh. Y…You wanted …the girl?”

A terrified May raced over and wrapped her arms around Tara’s shins. The giant Jungle Girl looked at the rebels below.

“Now, what am I going to do with you?”

Colonel Joe responded quizzically, “Why should you do anything to us? It was never our intention to harm the girl.”

Tara felt a stabbing pain in the side of her leg and looked at May in time to see the girl finish plunging a large syringe full of liquid into the giant woman’s calf.

“You’re far too trusting, Jungle Girl. That sedative can stop an elephant, it should at least be able to slow you down. Get her men!

The rebels by Colonel Joe’s side rushed the giantess and grabbed hold of her legs. Tara easily shook them off as her size gave her an advantage in strength and leverage, but they were joined by a score of men racing out from the jungle with nets and ropes. Casting the nets over her feet, and encircling her legs in rope, they held on for dear life as Tara’s might was still too great to control. Moving carefully, so as not to trip herself up, Tara reached down to remove the netting, but one of the rebels launched himself at the back of her knee causing her leg to buckle. The Jungle Girl crashed to the ground, catching herself with her hand, and before she could recover a handful of rebels grabbed her by the wrist and forearm while others scrambled atop her legs trying to hold them down. With her free hand, she started picking rebels off her other arm, but her position on her hands and knees had made it easier for the rebels to scale her body and now two of the men had managed to reach her head and they were hanging from her hair and ears trying to pull her body down to the ground. To make matters worse, the tranquilizer was kicking in and Tara felt sluggish. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she put her free hand down to get her equilibrium. She realized the mistake immediately, as another handful of men quickly took advantage of the opportunity to grab her by that arm, as well.

The advantage of Tara’s size having been taken away by the tactical victory of bringing her to her knees, the rebels began to tug outward on her arms hoping to get her all the way down to the ground, but the giantess managed to maneuver herself closer to the riverbank and the rebels found difficult footing in the muck and mud. The score of men on her legs, however, had good leverage and were soon able to pull the weakened Jungle Girl’s knees out from under her. This position made it much more difficult for the giantess to counter the rebels efforts to subdue her. The mire of the riverbank, which had previously been to her advantage, now worked against her. She could get no handhold in the mud, and as rebels she had previously discarded returned to the fray, she now had five or six men pulling outward on every limb.

Exhausted from the struggle, and the effects of the tranquilizer, Tara could feel the river flowing under her chin. Colonel Joe waded out and stood in front of her.

“Arrogant American! If you had just minded your own business, you could have left this island alive! Now, it’s unfortunate, but your government will hear that you accidentally drowned while swimming in the unfamiliar waters of this nation.”

Grabbing the hair above her forehead, Colonel Joe pulled down seeking to dunk the Jungle Girl’s face into the river, but Tara tensed her neck muscles and, looking him in the eye with steely determination, signalled that she would not be so easily dispatched. Furious, Colonel Joe commanded every man who was not securing a limb to assist him in submerging the Jungle Girl’s head in the water. The concentrated effort of the half-dozen men not securing her limbs was required, but with rebels standing on her shoulders and pushing against the back of her head, and rebels pulling down on her hair and ears, Tara’s face was forced under the river’s surface.

The cold, running water was like a slap in the face to the drugged giantess. She felt a surge of energy as her adrenalin kicked in. Caught unaware the rebels securing her arms and legs almost lost their grips as she began to kick and squirm in an effort to free herself. On several occasions she managed to raise her face from the water and draw in a quick breath. The river was only about four feet deep near the bank and it was difficult for the men forcing her head down to control her ability to turn her head to the side and suck in air.
Still, Tara couldn’t help but feel that she had squandered her window of opportunity. Her first surge of energy had startled her attackers but now all 30 men had refocused their efforts to drown her. As she bucked and strained in an effort to shake loose her assailants, she reproached herself for never considering the possibility that May might be aligned with the rebels. It was the tiny native girl’s traitorous tranquilizer which had been the deciding factor. The Jungle Girl struggled to focus her attention on the battle, but her mind kept drifting. It seemed like yesterday that she had answered the call to join the Femforce in finding Dr. Jimenez’ lost Time Triangle. She had gone to meet the legendary heroines full of doubt regarding whether she belonged in such illustrious company, and now…

To the surprise of the rebels, the giantess slowly began to shrink. Without oxygen, her red blood cells could no longer feed her giant-sized body and Tara involuntarily began to return to normal size as her body sought to adjust to meet the demand. As she reverted to her non-giantess state, the score and more of rebels had little difficulty controlling her as she continued her efforts to wriggle free of their grip. Eventually, a hardy dozen stood waist deep in the river holding the Jungle Girl entirely under water as her arhythmic efforts to free herself slowed before her hands, straining as if clutching at the sky, finally went limp.

Tara captured
Colonel Joe checks Tara for signs of life Cautiously, the rebels in the water released their grips and watched as Tara bobbed face down in the river’s current. Grabbing a hunk of her hair, Colonel Joe lifted the Jungle Girl’s head up out of the water until she hung limply before his eyes. Then, satisfied that she would never trouble anyone again, he removed a golden bracelet from her wrist before releasing her and letting her slide back under the choppy surface to the cheers of the assembled rebels on the bank.

“Through my planning and cunning, we have toppled the Giantess! Now May will take word of this tragedy to the village. If anyone still dares to defy us, I will show you how to skin the Cat!”

Tara floats face down in the water

chapter three

TWO THINGS THAT LAST ‘TIL THE END

The rusty taste in her mouth and the throbbing in her jaw were relegated to the back of her thoughts as the Weapons Mistress rebounded from the force of yet another blow. Her tormenters chortled with delight as they tilted her slumping head up to face the light and prepared to deliver more punishment.

Colt shifted her body and tried again to squirm free of her bonds. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the arms and legs of a wooden chair, with more rope coiled around her body securing her tightly to the seat and back of sturdy mahogany. Her costume was undisturbed, save for the tension exerted on the fabric by the binding cords, and the leather of her gloves and boots inhibited the tightness of the rope and allowed her some ability to maneuver her arms and legs. However, her wriggling had not yet loosened the bonds enough for her to protect herself.

Another backhand slap crashed against her jaw and sent her head whipping backwards with a momentum that rocked the chair onto two legs. The pint-sized pistolera teetered on the brink of falling over, but a kick to the chairback by one of the thugs reversed her momentum. Licking the blood trickling from the side of her mouth, Colt hungrily eyed her gun belt which had been removed and placed on a table out of reach.

“Wishing you could get your hands on your weapons, huh? What would you do to us right now if you had a piece in your hand?”

The men all laughed as the Weapons Mistress could only grit her teeth in frustration. Pulling out his own gun, the man pressed the barrel against her forehead and pushed her head back until the weapon was pointing at the floor. “Lucky for us, you’ll never have that chance again!”

Colt and ?A shot rang out, echoing throughout the warehouse, and then another. In rapid succession shots and the echoes of shots created a cacophonous barrage of weaponfire. Colt felt the barrel of the gun slip away from her skull as the tension on her neck eased and her head rolled forward. Orienting herself, she saw the thugs lying around in pools of blood.

In the dim light of the warehouse the figure of a man approached, his features obscured in shadow. Colt found his movements vaguely familiar and, squinting, she sought to recognize her rescuer. Strangely, the terrain of his face remained always in the dark, his identity a blur. He moved behind her and began to untie her arms.

“Just another second, Val, and we’ll be together again.”

Colt couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of breath. That voice! It wasn’t possible. Her husband had been killed years ago investigating an organization called “The Pact.” Could his death have been a lie, like the one concocted about Dan Barton, the Black Commando?

“Kevin?!?”

His arms moved around her body and began to unbutton her jacket as he leaned over her shoulder and whispered, “Of course, Val. It was just a matter of time before we’d be together again.”

The words sent a chill down the redhead’s spine and her face went ashen when she felt fingers fumbling to unbutton her jacket. Her gaze transfixed by the site of rotting flesh oozing from skeletal hands to drip against her bare midriff, Colt’s eyebrows raised in horror and her lips curled in fright as she struggled to escape the grasp of the living dead.

“Come with me, Val! We’ll be together again like before.” Grabbing the struggling spy from behind by the waist, the zombie pulled her close, squeezing her tightly. Her breath escaping from her lips, Colt pulled at the arms of the inhumanly strong monster in an effort to break free, but the creature would not release his grip.

The Weapons Mistress arched her back, through excruciating pain, until she could reach her arms behind her head enough to gouge at the creature’s eyes with her thumbs. With a shriek, the zombie released her and she sprawled onto the floor gasping for air.

“What’s wrong with you, Val? Don’t you love me anymore?!?”

Colt fights off KevinColt tried to scramble across the room but the rotting corpse snagged her by the bottom of her unbuttoned jacket and pulled her back towards him. Ripping herself away, the mini-marksman dove for the table and her gunbelt. Extracting her favorite pistol, she rolled over into a seated position and faced the monster.

“Don’t make me do this, Kevin!”

“You wouldn’t shoot your husband, would you Val?” The zombie continued to move towards Colt. The heroine’s hands, and the gun they held, were shaking.

“Please don’t, Kevin!!!”

Springing at her, the creature leapt for Colt’s throat. In rapid succession she fired three times, once to the head, heart, and gut, before toppling backwards from the weight of the carcass falling on her. Distraught, Colt slid out from under the corpse of her dead husband and slumped against the table leg to rest.

Without warning, a bony hand gripped her collar and she felt herself being lifted to her feet. Twisting around, she could see a look of fury on the zombie’s face.

“I can’t believe you tried to kill me, Val! Good thing I’m already dead!”

Kicking and screaming, Colt struggled to get away, to no avail, as the zombie dragged her towards a cemetery and pulled her into the inky blackness of an empty grave.

***

Tara and MateoDarkness gave way to blurred vision and the realization that she was coughing. Then, the feeling of liquid running out of her mouth and over her lips and the hazy outline of a figure hovering above her. Remembering her predicament, her arms and legs flailed provoking a grunt from the shadow compressing her chest. Soothing words came from a familiar voice and her eyes focused for an instant on a recognizable face.

“Mateo?”

“It’s okay, they drowned you, but it’s okay now.”

“Mateo.” Tara didn’t understand, but she felt safe, and tired, as she fell asleep in his arms.

***

She-Cat listened to the villagers at Gregorio’s table debating over whether Colonel Joe would again try to take the village or whether he would forget about them and move on to a town unprotected by such a stalwart defense. With hopeful eyes they had repeatedly set forth their case that he would search for an easier town and had looked to the heroine for confirmation that they were correct. Her candid response that such an outcome was the least likely only led to more vigorous arguments intended to convince her, and themselves, that she was wrong. The din of voices went silent when the door swung open and May staggered inside.

The girl’s clothing was in tatters and tears streamed down her face. In her arms she cradled a foul smelling package wrapped in leaves. Choking back sobs, she extended it towards She-Cat.

“I…I was searching for Mateo and Colonel Joe’s men found me. They took me captive but Colonel Joe let me go so I could bring you this gift.”

She-Cat gets a messageShe-Cat took the package from May’s arms and set it on the table. Her heart filled with dread as she looked at the moist leaves. For moments she could not bring herself to unwrap the “gift.” Finally, she steeled her heart and, holding back the trembling in her fingers, she moved the leaves away to reveal a golden armband encircling a dead fish.

“I don’t understand, Ms. She-Cat. What does it mean?”

A combination of anger and anguish roared within her and feline nails gouged into the wooden table top as she tried to steady herself. “It means, Gregorio, that your Colonel Joe has seen too many movies!”

Breaking into sobs, May cried, “No, it’s true! I saw it with my own eyes. Drowned! Drowned in the river!!!”

Her heart breaking, She-Cat could barely think through the fury that was raging inside of her. The only reason Tara had been here at all was because she was a friend. It made no sense. Neither of them should have even been here. They had no stake in this town. “Drowned?”

The words seemed ludicrous as they passed She-Cat’s lips. The Jungle Girl was almost as at home in the water as she was on land. She-Cat felt sick at the thought that her friend’s last moments must have seemed such a cruel joke.

Speaking to She-Cat, but addressing the entire crowd, May composed herself and continued to deliver her message. “Colonel Joe also said to tell the villagers that all who deliver you to him will be spared.”

The room erupted in protestations that they could never do such a thing. They would not dishonor themselves with such an act of cowardice. She-Cat looked at the room and knew that in their hearts all but a few had already accepted the offer of self-preservation and it was only a question of how and when they would come at her. Matter of factly, she said, “I think you should all deliver me to Colonel Joe. Then he will spare the entire village.”

A chorus of voices rang out. “Are you sure?” “It does make sense.” “Of course, if all of us turn you over to him then we’re all in the clear.” “Yes, maybe you’re right.”

“Nonsense! I got her involved to help us protect our liberty. She and her friend have tried to help us. We can’t offer her as a sacrifice because we are too cowardly to risk our own lives for our freedom.”

“Gregorio, she is telling us that is what we should do!”

“Of course, because she knows you are cowards and will do it anyway!”

She-Cat spoke with measured resolve. “Maybe, maybe not, but it is what I want you to do.”

***

Gorgana and Iron Jaw broke away from their conversation to watch as the unconscious Colt’s flailing movements resumed. Iron Jaw surveyed Colt’s unrestrained body stretched out before him on the floor of the warehouse. “Is she waking up?”

“I told you when I brought her before you and laid her at your feet that she’s in the middle of a nightmare more tortuous than anything her conscious mind can withstand. As long as I control her thoughts, she will never be able to wake up!”

“You better be right, Gorgana. I agreed to help you defeat the Femforce because you found her spying on me and took care of her, but I prefer my hostages tied up!”

“I told you she may have managed to transmit a message before I turned her lights out. If the Femforce is on the way to her rescue, we need her like this to bait the trap!”

***

“After you and She-Cat rescued my father and humiliated Colonel Joe by making him leave, I went for a walk to calm myself down. I had the hope that maybe he would go away for good, but in my heart I knew you couldn’t humiliate a man like that and not make him an enemy for life. I was distressed that, when you left, he would take his revenge on my father and on my entire family. I was considering whether I should flee to the city when I saw you battling the rebels. I was downstream, on the other side of the river, but I was too scared to help.”

“One man wouldn’t have made a difference against thirty.”

“I was frozen with fear. Too scared to even run and get help. I didn’t want to get involved. I didn’t want to give them any reason to hurt me.”

“By the time you made it to the village and back it would have been over.”

“I thought…you’re a hero. You’ll be allright. You’ve taken out worse than these guys!”

“As part of a team, not by myself.”

“Yeah, but you’re a hero. Then I remembered how they managed to beat She-Cat and take my father captive and I started to worry for you. When they forced you to the ground, I wanted to help but I couldn’t move. I watched you fighting thirty of them by yourself and I was too much of a coward to help.”

“Mateo, if you’d tried to help me, you would have only gotten yourself killed.”

“That’s what I told myself, ‘Don’t do it. You can’t help her. You’ll only get yourself killed.’ I kept thinking, hoping, you’d get away on your own. I was hoping…and then I saw all the guys around you relaxing and Colonel Joe lifted you out of the water. All the rebels started laughing and I knew that you weren’t going to get away… That you didn’t get away. They just left you floating there. The river’s current bringing you towards me. Mocking my cowardice!”

Mateo tells Tara of her rescue Tara watched the young man castigating his own character. The reason he was reluctant for the village to face Colonel Joe and his irritation at She-Cat for getting involved became clear. Soothingly she offered, “It wasn’t a coward that fished me out of the water when you could easily have been spotted.”

“I knew I had to do something! When you floated past, I pulled you to shore and dragged you into the jungle. Out of sight. When I turned you over on your back, I was sure you were dead. I don’t know how much time had passed. It seemed like an eternity, but maybe, probably, it was only a few minutes. I tried to get the water out of your lungs. I did mouth-to-mouth. I tried to get your heart going. I thought it was hopeless but then you started coughing and you kicked me. I was very happy to be kicked.”

“I’m happy to have done the kicking!”

“When you went to sleep, I brought you here. I thought the river area wouldn’t be safe. This is an old temple. No one ever comes here.”

“Mateo?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you!”

***

Ms. Victory, Stardust, and Synn flew south. General Strock had informed them that Colt had last been seen in Pompano Beach, Florida. The trio converged on the warehouse district near the pier.

“Synn, take the buildings to the left, Stardust to the right. I’ll get the ones in the middle. If you spot anything send up a signal for the rest of us and wait for backup. We don’t know who we’re up against, so be careful!”

Ms. Victory watched her teammates head off to their respective buildings and then she began searching her section of warehouses. After a few minutes a stellar flare lit the sky. Ms. Victory raced over towards Stardust.

“The building appears to be empty…except for Colt. If you look through this window, you can see she’s alone in the middle of the floor. It looks like they cleared out and left her behind. She’s not even tied up!”

“Hey guys, didja find her? Is she okay?”

“Stardust found her. We…”

Synn peered through the upper floor window. “Why doesn’t she get up? She’s moving around.”

“She appears to be having some kind of seizure, Synn. Stardust, check the building’s perimeter again. Synn cover me while I check on Colt.”

Synn watched Ms. Victory slide through an open window and swoop down to kneel beside the Weapons Mistress. Colt’s eyes had rolled back into her head and drool was running down her chin. Ms. Victory tried to wake the fallen crimefighter as Synn called down from above.

“What’s the matter with her? Is she going to be okay?”

Ms. Victory was about to answer when she heard a whistling sound coming from a nearby building. “Watch out, Synn! Something’s incoming!”

Synn turned toward the sound behind her just in time to see the bazooka shell streaking at her. Her mental command to create a giant baseball glove was only half-formed when the shell rocketed into her construct and exploded just a few feet away. The concussive effect blew the startled heroine through the window.

Moving quickly, Ms. Victory sailed up past shattering glass to catch her falling comrade. The doe-eyed blonde was out cold. Ms. Victory continued climbing out of the warehouse and visually retraced the trajectory of the shell. The Femforce leader saw Iron Jaw hiding near the window of a nearby building. Unable to counterattack while holding the unprotected Synn in her arms, Ms. Victory flew back into the warehouse. Alighting, she carefully laid Synn on the floor near Colt. The Weapons Mistress appeared to need prompt medical attention. Quelling the voice inside of her that demanded swift retribution, the Femforce leader determined that the proper course of action would be to get the fallen heroines to a doctor. After Synn and Colt were safe, Iron Jaw could be brought to justice.

“You monster! What have you done to Ms. Victory!”

The Femforce leader felt the impact of a stellar blast in her back as her body was propelled across the room. As she stumbled to her feet and turned to face her attacker, another blast struck her in the chest, sending her flying head over heels until she slammed into a steel girder, her nearly invulnerable body buckling the building support even as she twisted around the metal and crumpled to the floor.

Holding up a hand, she cried out, “Stardust?!? What are you doing!?!”

Stardust saw Gorgana rise to her feet. “You’re surprisingly resilient, ghoul, but if you continue to attack I will blast you into space!”

Standing invisibly behind the Rurian scientist, Gorgana stifled a laugh. Her plan was working. Iron Jaw had taken Synn and her reality altering abilities out of the game. Now, with no one to challenge Gorgana’s own magical powers, her illusions enabled her to use Stardust as the perfect instrument to defeat Ms. Victory.

The Rurian was convinced that Ms. Victory was Gorgana and that Synn was a broken and bloodied Ms. Victory. Furious at the sight, she was holding nothing back and each blast was unerringly finding the mark. Gorgana inwardly chortled at the sight of Ms. Victory being pounded into oblivion by her own teammate as the Femforce leader at first would not, and then could not, fight back. Once Ms. Victory was kaput, it would be a simple matter for Gorgana to strike a treacherous blow against Stardust from behind. Then all three Femforcers would join Colt in a neverending nightmare.

***

Determined to bring the villain responsible for killing her mortal self to justice, Firebeam had followed Iron Jaw’s trail of evil all over the State of Florida. Now she slipped through the closed warehouse doors and found herself in the midst of a shocking scene. Her erstwhile allies, the Femforce, seemingly littered the warehouse floor. Synn and the masked spy she knew as Colt were out cold and Ms. Victory barely clung to consciousness as she pleaded with her attacker to stop. Unimaginably, it was another Femforce team member who was doling out the damage.

Firebeam moved to stop Stardust when she felt the cold chill of evil at the Rurian’s back. Sensing a malevolent presence controlling Stardust, Firebeam embraced the cold, warming it with her flames. Screeching, Gorgana’s only thought was to escape the inferno surrounding her.

Stardust saw Gorgana transform into a battered Ms. Victory. “Ehh? The Ghoul’s aspect changes!?! What trickery is she up to now?”

A shaken Ms. Victory realized that Stardust’s attack had momentarily stopped. “Dr. Mara, behind you!”

Stardust turned to see Gorgana darting through a wall of flames and the Rurian unleashed a stellar blast at the ghoul. The distracted Gorgana never saw the blow coming and, in an instant, she plummeted from vainglorious victory to darkest defeat.

“Hold it right there, Stardust! Don’t make another move!”

“It’s okay, Firebeam. Stardust’s still on our side.”

“If you say so, Ms. Victory, but it sure doesn’t look that way from here.”

“Gorgana created an illusion, Dusty thought I was the ghoul.”

“Indeed, I did! I’m so sorry! Even at the end, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing until you addressed me so personally.”

Ms. Victory got to her feet and began the task of waking the unconscious Synn and Colt. “Firebeam, how did you know Gorgana was here?”

“I didn’t. I followed Iron Jaw’s trail to this building. When I entered I saw Stardust attacking you. I was about to stop her when I felt the cold presence of an evil entity. I didn’t know what was going on, but I figured Stardust wouldn’t normally attack you so I went after what had to be the source of her actions.”

“Owww! My head hurts and my ears are ringing! Hey! What’s Firebeam doing here?”

“I followed Iron Jaw’s trail of evil to this building. I know he’s been here.”

“Iron Jaw?!? I bet he’s the one that tried to blow me up!!!”

Ms. Victory helped Synn to her feet. “It’s a good bet. I saw him hiding nearby. He and Gorgana set a trap for us that almost worked.”

“If he’s nearby the fresh trail will be easy for me to follow. Let’s go!”

“Firebeam, as much as I hate to say this, capturing Iron Jaw’s going to have to wait. Synn, might have a concussion and Colt’s in a state of shock. Plus, we need to get Gorgana into a stasis cell before she regains consciousness. Why don’t you and Synn get Colt back to Femforce Headquarters so she can receive medical attention while Dusty and I make sure Gorgana is safe behind bars.”

***

“Ms. Victory, there you are! Is the situation with Gorgana resolved?”

“Yes, General. All of the Fearforce are now in custody, but Firebeam wants to bring in Iron Jaw.”

“That’s who Colt was after, as well.”

“How is Colt?” Ms. Victory’s voice was hopeful, but uncertain.

“The doctors think she’ll be okay. Physically, she’s unharmed. Emotionally, Gorgana really got to her. She’s going to need some time to recover, but, knowing her the way I do, I’m confident she’ll be fine.”

Ms. Victory knitted her brow. Something was bothering her about their recent encounter with Gorgana but she couldn’t figure it out. The thought that something was wrong nagged at the back of her mind. “How about Synn?”

“The doctors say she might have a slight concussion, although I don’t know how they can tell.”

“Well, I guess Stardust, Firebeam, and I will be enough to capture Iron Jaw.”

“I’m confident the three of you would be successful, but something else has a higher priority.”

“A higher priority than Iron Jaw?!?”

“While you were down in Pompano Beach, I got a briefing from Washington, D.C. The CIA and State are furious. Their operatives are reporting that Tara and She-Cat are compromising our foreign policy. I don’t know all the details. Apparently I didn’t ‘need to know’ that information. Buncha jerks. What I do know is that it has something to do with that island She-Cat was planning on visiting. Take Synn and Stardust and find out what She-Cat and Tara are doing over there. Rayda and Firebeam will have to hold down the fort here while you’re gone. If something comes up and you can’t make it back in time, we’ll call in some favors from the Vault heroes and heroines.”

***

Colonel Joe laughed as he walked into the village. She-Cat lay in the center of town, her wrists bound behind her back and her ankles tied together. The mass of villagers stood behind her.

“I see you got my message. I’m glad so many of you were smart enough to do the right thing and save yourselves. I will be true to my word and spare your lives. You have one hour to leave this village.” As the townspeople dispersed to collect their belongings and flee, Colonel Joe directed several of his men to check the heroine’s bonds. A thorough inspection confirmed that the knots were secure.

Colonel Joe strode up to the dejected heroine. “What hurts more? The treachery of those you sought to protect or …”

Rolling up onto her knees, She-Cat tucked her feet under her and sprang forward. She caught the surprised Colonel in the jaw with the top of her head and sent him flying backwards into his men. Maintaining her feet, she hopped forward and then launched herself to deliver a two-footed kick to his throat.

As he fell to the ground, she landed on his chest and, swiveling her body around, rammed her knees into his neck. His men were too stunned to help him. The Colonel’s face quickly turned a purplish-red and his eyes bugged out of their sockets. Her razor-sharp nails had already frayed the rope around her wrists and she almost had her hands free when she was tackled from behind and forced away from her prey.

Shocked, She-Cat saw that it was May who had come to the Colonel’s defense. As the young girl jumped up and scrambled away from her to the protection of the soldiers, She-Cat felt the rifle barrels trained on her body and heard the click as safeties were turned off. Coughing and gasping for air, Colonel Joe scrambled to his feet and put some distance between them.

“Heh, heh. I guess you didn’t like my ‘gift?’ I thought cats liked fish?”

She-Cat glowered at the Colonel as she finished severing the ropes around her wrists. “You should remember that the guy who sent that message in the movie didn’t live to see the final reel.”

“That was in the movies. In this jungle, automatic weapons fire will tear your body into pieces before you can make up half the distance between us. In this jungle, the heroes lose! You lose! Just like ‘Giant’ Tara!!! Before this day is out I will look into your eyes and there will be nothing but darkness.”

She-Cat smirked. “Darkness, huh?”

The heroine’s suddenly smug attitude irritated Colonel Joe. Wasn’t she afraid of death? Why, even his own men were looking at him in fear. How could she not be afraid? He could feel the day grow cold, as if in preparation for her death. The sun had suddenly clouded over and he now stood in shadow as a large raindrop fell on his shoulder. Several of his men were white as sheets as they fearfully melted off into the jungle and scattered in every direction. With a sense of unease, the Colonel realized that those of his men who remained were looking not at him, but behind him. His heartbeat increasing, he slowly turned around.

“Oh, are you in for a world of hurt!” The Jungle Girl towered over Colonel Joe, water dripping from her hair and clothing onto her would-be assassin.

“But, I killed you?!? You’re dead! Your eyes were dead!!!”

“Yet, here I am!!”

“Don’t come near me! If you touch me, my men will shoot She-Cat!”

“It sounds like you just threatened the life of a member of my team.” Landing next to She-Cat, Ms. Victory addressed Colonel Joe. “I don’t think I like you very much.”

She-Cat’s nails ripped through the rope at her ankles and she climbed to her feet as Stardust and Synn alighted nearby. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“General Strock sent us to check on you two. You want to tell me why this guy’s trying to kill you?”

Nightveil plummets to earth”This guy’s a thug masquerading as a freedom fighter. The people of this village are trying to avoid getting slaughtered or pushed out of their homes and we…uh…we sort of got involved. Now listen! Before you jump our case, if anyone’s to blame for this it’s me. The Jolly Green Jungle Giant over there tried to keep this from turning into an international inci….eh?”

A dimensional rift opened in the sky above the village and the disshevled form of a twisting Nightveil plummeted to earth landing in a heap on the ground near Ms. Victory’s feet. The Femforce leader dropped to a knee to attend to her fallen comrade. The Sorceress grabbed Ms. Victory’s hand and squeezed tightly. Her voice weak, the mystic maiden drew Ms. Victory near. “Joan, the sceptre. The sceptre. I can only protect you for a short time.”

The effort having exhausted her, Nightveil slumped back onto the ground. In the moments it had taken the Sorceress to speak, the sky had darkened and storm clouds had appeared above. An apparition with eyes of fire and lightning streaked towards earth. The sight of the fearsome entity caused the remainder of Colonel Joe’s men to scatter, fleeing in several directions from the otherworldly sights.

“Tara! Watch out behind you!”

At Synn’s warning, the Jungle Girl leapt to the side, tucking and rolling, as a bolt of fire pierced the air where she had stood and crashed into the ground in front of Colonel Joe. Abandoned by his men, and in the middle of a confrontation beyond his understanding, the rebel leader fled, cowering, into a nearby ditch.

Tara takes on RehtamCatching herself against a stand of trees, the Giantess reversed direction and sailed toward the dark figure swooping past her. Rehtam Nottoc felt sinewy arms wrapping around his oversized visage. Casting a minimization spell against his attacker, he was surprised to find that it had less than the desired effect. Although the Giantess became dizzy and a little nauseous, she retained her size. Nevertheless, he was able to break free of her grasp.

“Fool Witch! You should worry about saving yourself instead of wasting the little power you have protecting these insignificant insects! What protection will they have when your defenseless body is torn asunder!”

A ball of mystical energy shot from Rehtam Nottoc’s fingers and hurtled toward the semi-conscious sorceress. Sensing that Nightveil had left herself completely unprotected in order to shield them, Ms. Victory dove on top of Nightveil to protect her from what was surely going to be a killing blow.

“Hey! You shouldn’t have ought to done that!” Synestrophically turning herself into a giant equal to the dark figure in size, Synn walloped Rehtam Nottoc with a right cross to the face. Pain seared the mage’s mind as blood began to pour from his nostril.

“What manner of magic is this that it hasn’t been absorbed?!?”

Grabbing Nightveil’s cape from the dark mage’s shoulders, Synn said, “This doesn’t belong to you.”
She-Cat jumped into the fray, ripping into the dark mage’s shin with razor-sharp fingernails. Yelping in pain, Rehtam Nottoc kicked the heroine away only to have her land on her feet and bound back onto his leg. Focusing through his agony, the sorcerer called on his mystic lightning. Nightveil’s ability to protect the team diminishing with each magical attack, the strike battered She-Cat and caused her to lose her grip. As she slipped off Rehtam Nottoc’s leg, the Sorcerer caught her in her already damaged ribs with a punt that sent her flying into a nearby ditch. She-Cat takes on Rehtam
She-Cat saved by Mateo Clutching in agony at her broken ribs, She-Cat rolled uncontrollably down and across the rocky stream bed of the dry creek. Colonel Joe watched She-Cat tumble to a writhing stop. His hatred for the heroine who had caused him to lose his army overpowering his fright, the rebel leader removed a long knife from his boot and lunged at the unaware heroine preparing to plunge the dagger between her shoulder blades.

“Nooooooo!”

Mateo, who had been watching the battle with Rehtam Nottoc from a safe distance, dove into the ditch without thinking and intercepted the blow intended for She-Cat. Alerted by his cry, She-Cat turned just as Colonel Joe drove Mateo down on top of her. Realizing that his assassination attempt had been foiled, the rebel leader turned and ran while a shocked She-Cat stared at the hilt of the knife sticking from Mateo’s shoulder.

She-Cat looked to the rest of the team for help in assisting Mateo, but they were all busy dodging Rehtam Nottoc’s mystical blasts. Synn had managed to return Nightveil’s cape to the fallen sorceress, covering her with it in the hope that it would repel any attempt to injure its’ owner. Tara was again grappling with the evil magician while Stardust maneuvered around looking for a clear shot which would not injure her teammate. The dark mage once again used his minimization spell, but this time it was effective as the dizzying effect made Tara unable to maintain her focus and she returned to her normal size.

Rehtam is defeatedThe taste of blood in his mouth led Rehtam Nottoc to the realization that Nightveil had found his weakness. As long as he had the Sceptre of Valoo he could not be harmed by magical attack. However, a physical attack, such as her kick on Dhagor, could cause real injury. Desperate to reap the full effect of his magic, the dark mage knew that he had to eliminate the witch responsible for protecting the women assailing him. Calling upon his full assortment of sorcery, Rehtam Nottoc fired dozens of mystic bolts, balls of fire, and lightning strikes at the defenseless Nightveil with each finding its’ mark. Her surprising ability to withstand his assault infuriated him and he redoubled his efforts until the air between himself and Nightveil was filled with mystical energy.

Confused, the Dark Magician looked around to see that his aspect was no longer greater than that of those around him. To his amazement, Nightveil weakly lifted herself into a seated position, her cloak of darkness covering her lap. Raising an eyebrow, she drew the Sceptre of Valoo from beneath her cloak. “Missing something?”

For the first time, Rehtam Nottoc realized that he did not hold the Sceptre. “How?!?”

Ms. Victory smiled. “When Synn hit you, your grip relaxed. Enhanced speed, enhanced strength, it wasn’t hard to snatch it from you. Synn was bright enough to give you another one of her own construction so it wouldn’t be missed. I guess, when she saw me take it, she figured it was important to you.”

“Stardust, would you mind?”

“Not a problem, Nightveil!”

At a fraction of full force, the stellar blast delivered by the Rurian was sufficient to incapacitate the magician. Nightveil approached the fallen mage and touched the sceptre to his forehead, drawing out the remainder of his magic.

“Colonel!”

Tara and She Cat deal with Colonel JoeThe team turned to see May swinging a jeep around as Colonel Joe hurried to make an escape. She-Cat and Tara sped to catch him as the others looked on. Colonel Joe caught up to the moving vehicle as May slowed and jumped into the passenger side seat. With a howl of pain brought on by contact with the sharp metal of a busted spring, he popped into the air and tumbled out onto the dusty roadside while May continued to flee the village she had betrayed. As he clutched at the seat of his pants and scrambled to his feet, the Colonel raised his eyes just in time to see the faces of She-Cat and Tara before their respective right and left fists slammed into his jaw and left him flat on his back seeing stars.

“Man, that felt good!”

“All I know is it made every one of these broken ribs seem worth it.”

“So what do we do with him now?”

A bandaged Mateo stumbled towards them. “I think…that we’ll take it from here.”

“Don’t sink to his level, Mateo.”

“No, I promise. His men have fled. He has no power anymore. We will hold him until the human rights observers come. You have my word.”

Leaning over, both heroines kissed a suddenly blushing Mateo on the cheek and simultaneously said, “My hero!”

“Saved my life, you know?”

“Mine, too!”

“I think we need some time off from our free time!”

The end!”Still have that hotel room in Manilla?”

“For another day.”

“Four-star hotel?”

“Soft bed!”

She-Cat smiled. “You’re still a spoiled rich girl, you know?”

“I’m aware of that, yes.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

Ms. Victory shook her head in disbelief. Tara kissing something other than a jungle cat? She-Cat being upbeat? She watched the two walking together, Tara helping support the injured She-Cat and She-Cat letting her. “Who are those people and what have they done to my teammates?”

Nightveil laughed. “Sometimes it’s good to know there are people in this world you can count on.”

The Femforce leader watched the bedraggled Sorceress approach her. “You talking about them, or you? You took a big chance leaving yourself unprotected like that so that you could spread what was left of your power out to the five of us. He was out to kill you.”

Nightveil looked at her tattered and torn costume, with the blue stocking of one foot still shoeless. “I was sure he would…until I saw my friends. Then I never gave it a second thought.”

With a wave of her hand, Nightveil appeared once again in full, undamaged, costume. “Now, let me consign this fool to limbo for all eternity and we can go home.”

Ms. Victory sighed. “Did I mention Iron Jaw’s on the loose again?”

THE END

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Golden Age Femforce Story by Femfan1

Posted: December 10, 2009 at 8:32 pm | Tags: femfan1

This story is a little different than “Heroes and Friends.” I didn’t have it fully developed in my head before I started on it and I basically sat down and typed it all in one shot. I guess it’s not bad as is but I’d love it if people would send in suggestions for changes to make it better. Maybe more detail, additional dialogue, or alternative ways to identify the characters (I love alliterations, i.e., buxom blonde, pint-sized pistolera, etc.). As long as the changes don’t alter the basic structure of the story, I’ll amend it to include reader’s suggestions that make the final story more fun to read! Thanks so far to Jim Johnston for his suggestions.

The World Spins ‘Round and ‘Round!

The window slid open silently and the caped figure crept into the darkened storefront. She congratulated herself on a much quieter entry than if she had tried the padlocked storm cellar door. Shadows in the room loomed threateningly cast by the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk outside the shop. Drawing her twin .45’s from their holsters, the Blue Bulleteer listened for any sound piercing the silence which might alert her to danger. For, if this was one of Lady Luger’s hideaways in the United States, danger was assured.

Goosebumps crept across her flesh and she wondered how the other members of the Femforce were faring as they investigated Lady Luger’s other suspected hideaways. It was a stroke of luck that they had obtained the information that Lady Luger had again crossed the Atlantic. Just this morning they had foiled an espionage attempt at the local Air Force base and one of the captured German spies had been coerced into revealing the sites and the identity of his new boss. Having just come under her command, he was less fearful of her revenge than he would have been had he been a seasoned agent. Of course, there was always the possibility that he was sending the team into a trap.

The spy had revealed four locations where Lady Luger based her local operations. A warehouse on the marina, a seedy motel on the edge of town, a house in the countryside, and this toy store near the center of town. The Femforce had split up with each taking a location and as Laura peered through the darkness at the grinning faces of so many jack-in-the-boxes she wondered if she wouldn’t have preferred the countryside.

Having ascertained that no one was present in the retail portion of the store, the Blue Bulleteer cautiously moved back the curtain and eased into the back room. An office of sorts, it had two doors, a desk, a chair, several filing cabinets, and papers strewn throughout. She lifted a piece of paper from the desk and peered at an invoice for toy trains. If this was a hideaway for Lady Luger it seemed the shop doubled as a legitimate business. Once the building was secure she would check the various documents for clues, but given the haphazard nature in which she found them it was not a task she relished.

Standing with her back to the wall at the side of one door, she twisted the knob and let the door swing open. The squeaking hinges seemed deafening in the silence as she stepped into the doorway with her pistols raised. Her eyes having grown accustomed to the darkness, she found herself confronted by an empty restroom. She sighed to herself and moved to the other door where she repeated the procedure. Steps leading down to a basement. She listened intently for any sound that might signal a human presence but heard nothing.

Carefully, the Blue Bulleteer placed her foot on the top step and shifted her weight. The wooden plank creaked under the pressure. Laura knew that she wouldn’t be able to search the basement without making some noise. Hopefully, no one would be around to hear it. She moved down the steps, listening for any noise other than that of creaking wooden stairs. She was halfway down when she felt icy fingers clamp around her ankle long enough to trip her as her momentum sent her tumbling forward.

Miraculously, though she bounced off the steps several times, she found herself unhurt as she skidded to a stop at the base of a wall. Suddenly, the lights clicked on and the Blue Bulleteer’s pupils could scarcely adjust quickly enough to see the figure of Lady Luger towering above her. Before she could raise her weapons to defend herself, a vicious boot to the chin sent her back into darkness.

“Wake up, Schweinhunt!”

The sound of the whip cracking inches away from her face shocked the Blue Bulleteer back into consciousness. As she blinked her eyes and tried to focus, she felt the tug of gravity pulling on her wrists. Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, she looked at her arms and saw that she was bound by the wrists to a multicolored circular board. As her senses cleared, she realized that she was tied spread-eagle to a wooden wheel.

“Ahhh, the infamous Blue Bulleteer. How good of you to join us! Miss Victory is at the Marina, no doubt?” Lady Luger again cracked her trademark whip with unerring accuracy, this time the tip actually brushed the Blue Bulleteer’s raven hair.

It had been a trap! She should have known one of Lady Luger’s operatives would never have given up such vital information so easily! Ignoring Lady Luger, she tugged at her bonds, testing their strength. From behind her she heard another voice. “Foolish American! You don’t even have the strength of Miss Victory. Do you really think you can escape when her superior, Panzer, has tied you down?!?”

Panzer and Lady Luger. Together! This was serious! She wondered how quickly the other members of the Femforce had been able to secure their targets. If they were done, and she didn’t report in, they’d come to check on her. She had to buy time.

“That paper hanger in Berlin must be really desperate to send you two losers over here to cause problems!”

“Our glorious Fuhrer has decided that we can ensure the 1000 year Reich by forcing the United States out of the war.”

“You’ll never be able to get us out of the war. All your espionage efforts will never sway the will of the people!”

“Maybe the American people will be swayed by the death of their beloved heroine, the Blue Bulleteer? Maybe they will cry out that no more of their heroes should be lost?”

“It’ll never happen. You’ve got it all wrong. My demise at your hands would only serve to galvanize public anger against you Ratzis. The American people will work and fight even harder to bring down your evil regime!”

“So the Americans will not mourn your death? What a shame! Your going to suffer so much, your people really should mourn after what you’re going to go through.”

“You see, American, Fraulein Luger has decided to turn your demise into a game. The Spinning Wheel of Death upon which you are tied will decide your end! Your method of execution will be determined by where the pointer lands!”

“Of course, Blue Bulleteer, our aim may not be perfect. You may not die after the first time around.”

“Fascist Fiends! You’ll never get away with this!”

“If we don’t, you won’t be around to hear of it. Spin the Wheel of Death, Panzer!”

Laura felt the pointer skim across the top of her head and then the rushing force of her body turning head over heels and upright again with each turn being marked by the pointer slapping against the side of her head. She spun around more times than she could count, her body weight shifting up, down, and side to side as she closed her eyes and tried to keep her equilibrium. Finally, she slowed to a stop on her side.

She opened her eyes and Lady Luger had put aside her bullwhip and picked up a hatchet. “Turn her upright, please, Panzer. I’d like to go for an arm.”

Panzer rotated the wheel and the Blue Bulleteer steeled herself as Lady Luger prepared to throw. Laura tensed as the razor-sharp tomahawk flew through the air and she jerked involuntarily as she heard it slam into the wood not far from her right arm. She exhaled, knowing that her arm was intact, and she looked to see the blade embedded above her forearm.

“Bah, you missed! Here, let Panzer show you how to do it.” Panzer threw the wheel into rotation and walked over next to Lady Luger. Laura closed her eyes and waited for the wheel to stop turning again but the sound of metal slicing into wood shocked her to attention. As the world spun around in front of her, she could hear her tormentors laughing.

“It seems you missed as well, my friend! But, I like your version of the game better. Spin her around again and let’s see how we do with the throwing knives.”

As Laura came to a stop, she looked around to see where the hatchet was embedded. She located it protruding from between her legs. Scarcely had the implications of the location set in than she was again spinning around. She tried to look at the two harpies as they drew back their new weapons but soon dizziness and nausea overcame her and she scarcely heard the knives whistle toward her. She felt the tug of her cape and realized that at least one had found it’s mark uncomfortably close to home.

“Ah, it seems we’ve both missed again. Perhaps, a bullet will better find it’s mark?” Lady Luger drew her pistol from it’s holster.

“No, Fraulein, wait.” Panzer walked over behind the wheel and emerged with the Blue Bulleteer’s weapons. “Better with her own guns, I think!”

“Indeed! How ironic it will be! Panzer, for this idea, I give you the honor of going first!”

Lady Luger walked up beside the Blue Bulleteer on the wheel. “I think you will not be so lucky this time! Do you have any final words?”

“Nuts!”

“Feh!” Lady Luger tugged on the wheel violently and the Blue Bulleteer began spinning around with so much force that she could barely stay conscious. The Teutonic twins watched with delight as the Blue Bulleteer’s body shifted to and fro. Panzer took aim. “Perhaps, we start with a kneecap?”

The gunshots echoed in the small room. Laura felt no pain and knew the Nazis had missed. Relief washed over her, but she knew that sooner or later her foes would tire of playing games. Sure enough, as she slowly came to rest just shy of vertical, her vision cleared and though the room still seemed to be spinning she was able to focus on Lady Luger’s visage. It was clear that this time, she wouldn’t miss. Luger took the .45 from Panzer and standing directly in front of the crimefighter raised both guns to fire.

“Auf wiedersehen, Amerikanen!”

The Blue Bulleteer knew that if this was it, she was going out fighting, and, who knows, she might make the Nazi numbskull so angry that she’d miss. “Ok, you swastikad stooge, let’s see if you can finally hit your target. If the rest of you Aryan schmucks are all as bad a shot as you, our boys will make short work of them!”

Lady Luger’s lip curled up in a sneer, and then, suddenly, the room was bathed in red light. “Eh? Someone else has entered the store. Panzer, check to see who it is?”

The Blue Bulleteer watched Panzer go into a curtained room over near the wall on her right. For the first time, she had an opportunity to notice her whereabouts. It was evident that she was in a finished room in the basement. She couldn’t see the steps that had proven her undoing so they had to be somewhere behind her. Behind Luger she could see steps leading up to the storm entrance.

Lady Luger walked up to the Blue Bulleteer and hissed in a hushed whisper, “If you try to say a word to alert someone, you will die before the first syllable has escaped your lips!” Laura’s .45 pressed against her jaw as Luger clamped her hand across the Blue Bulleteer’s mouth.

Suddenly, a streaking figure clad in red, white, and blue crashed through the storm cellar door. Miss Victory rushed forward only to stop dead in her tracks as Lady Luger shoved the .45 under the Blue Bulleteer’s jaw.

“That’s right, stupid Amerikanen! Any closer and the insides of your friend’s head will get scrambled!”

“Luger, your operation at the marina has been crushed. You’re finished. Give it up! It’ll only go harder on you if you do the Blue Bulleteer any harm.” Miss Victory moved closer trying to dominate Lady Luger’s field of vision. “Come on, hand over the gun.”

“Yes, maybe I should?” Lady Luger’s words did not deceive the patriotic powerhouse. Miss Victory knew that the Nazi would never surrender so easily. Laura’s eyes widened with fear and her muffled cries filled the room. Too late, Miss Victory realized that she herself was in danger as a strong arm grabbed her from behind pinning her arms and a strong hand clamped a damp rag across her mouth. Surprised the superheroine took in a sharp breath as she struggled to free herself from her attackers iron grip.

Too late, Miss Victory recognized the sickly sweet smell of chloroform on the rag. Sensing her peril if she did not escape from the overwhelming effect of the drug she redoubled her efforts but her initial breaths had already taken their toll. Her strength waning, she could not free herself from a foe almost as powerful as herself. Mighty legs buckled and powerful shoulders sagged as Miss Victory slowly slumped into unconsciousness.

“Excellent work, Panzer!” Lady Luger walked toward her compatriot who was the only thing holding the almost unconscious Miss Victory aloft. She tucked the Blue Bulleteer’s pistols into her belt. “You should check around and make sure that none of the other verdamnt Femforce are around.”

“Why don’t you check around!?! I captured Miss Victory, the honor of destroying her should be mine!”

“We captured Miss Victory, just like we captured the Blue Bulleteer! The Fatherland will shower plenty of honor on both of us. Besides, I am your superior officer and I have issued an order!”

Panzer stood petulantly for a moment and then released her grasp on Miss Victory. The mighty heroine’s eyes fluttered as she was freed from the intoxicating chloroform but her legs were without strength to carry her weight as she fell unceremoniously to the floor. With a backwards glance at Lady Luger, Panzer stalked off through the storm cellar entrance.

“She’ll be your downfall, Luger. She’s too ambitious. She’ll try to take credit for what you’ve done!”

Ignoring the Blue Bulleteer’s attempts to cause her concern, Lady Luger looked down at the semi-conscious Miss Victory. Kneeling she pressed the liquid soaked rag over the blonde bombshell’s nose and mouth. The momentary respite had allowed Miss Victory to regain some of her strength but despite her best efforts she was still too weak to push the Nazi fiend away. Luger continued pushing the cloth onto Miss Victory’s face until the blonde heroine’s breathing became regular and shallow. Checking underneath Joan’s eyelids, she confirmed that the American was unconscious. Standing, Luger walked into the room Panzer had previously entered.

“Miss Victory! Miss Victory wake up!” Laura’s heart sank. Panzer and Lady Luger had managed to capture not only her, but Miss Victory as well. The blow to the American public’s morale if they were both defeated would be tremendous. She couldn’t hope that She-Cat or Rio Rita would find them. She had prayed for Miss Victory to arrive and look at that result, the situation was worse. The Blue Bulleteer again tested her bonds and was overjoyed to find that they had been loosened by the centrifugal forces exerted by her spinning body. She began to work her arms trying to get the ropes free as Lady Luger returned with a bottle of what Laura had to believe was more chloroform.

Miss Victory’s vaunted recuperative powers had kicked into high gear and in that short span she had roused herself into semi-consciousness. Rolling over onto her side, she tried weakly to lift herself up but before she could get to her knees Luger pressed a boot heel into her shoulder and shoved her onto her back. Still, her eyes fluttered open again and she tried to sit up only to have Luger again smash the chloroform soaked rag into her face. Miss Victory pawed at Lady Luger’s arms trying unsuccessfully to push them away before the fumes again overpowered her senses and she slipped off to sleep.

As Laura watched Lady Luger sit back and stare at the unconscious Miss Victory, she realized in horror that her buxom friend’s invulnerable body would not save her from the overdose of chloroform that Lady Luger was clearly planning. The Blue Bulleteer frantically called out to her comatose comrade to wake up but the prone powerhouse did not respond. Turning her attention to their captor, the Blue Bulleteer screamed, “Get away from her you Nazi witch! Only a coward would attack a fallen opponent!”

Lady Luger was so absorbed in the realization of her dream to bring about the demise of the personification of American patriotism that Laura wondered if her comments had even been heard, then the teutonic titan respondent in a chillingly quiet voice, “Be quiet liebchen, your turn will come soon enough.”

Devastated by the off-handed manner of the German’s reply, the raven-haired adventuress returned to working on her bonds, desperately attempting to free herself and rescue her fallen comrade. She was gaining significant headway when she was alarmed to hear a noise at her side. Thinking it might be Panzer returning from the check of the grounds, she was enormously relieved to see a surprised Rio Rita who, upon witnessing the awful tableau, quickly drew her pistol from its’ holster located on her leg, high up under her dress.

“Don’t move a muscle, Luger!”

The Nazi swung around, dropping the chloroform soaked rag and extracting one of the Blue Bulleteer’s pistols from her belt, but Rita Farrar’s shot was true and the force of the bullet impacting on the gun in Luger’s hand sent the pistol flying across the room. Seeing that she was covered by a sharpshooter, Lady Luger sheepishly put her hands in the air.

“Stay on your knees, but turn around. Now, take that pistol from your belt butt first and slide it on the ground over toward the Blue Bulleteer. Okay, the same with the luger in your holster. Fine, hands clasped behind your head and don’t move a muscle.”

As Rita Farrar took Lady Luger into custody, the Blue Bulleteer continued freeing herself. Having managed to free her arms, she was working on her legs when she warned, “Rita, be careful, Panzer is around here someplace, as well.”

“You’re warning is too late, Amerikanen! Panzer is here, now!”

As Rita turned to face the giant German, she was met with a slap that sent her hurtling through the air and slamming into a wall. She slid to the floor, stars in her eyes. Sensing her opportunity, Lady Luger went for the gun that had been shot out of her hand. The Blue Bulleteer, having freed her arms but not her feet, leaned forward falling to the floor where she was able to grasp the .45 Rita had ordered Luger to slide her way. Just before Lady Luger reached the other weapon, she was able to fire and the bullet whizzing past the Nazi’s head caused Luger to abandon her effort.

Panzer kicked the gun out of the Blue Bulleteer’s hands before she could turn from her awkward position, but as Miss Victory again regained consciousness and Rio Rita managed to regain her wits the Teutonic terrors both realized that without either weapons or the element of surprise they were completely outclassed. Lady Luger darted out the storm cellar entrance as Panzer fled up the stairs.

Rio Rita, her senses returned, sprinted over to the Blue Bulleteer to help extract her from the final rope binding her to the wooden wheel as Miss Victory finally regained enough strength to sit up. A freed Laura and Rita helped Miss Victory to her feet as She-Cat finally arrived.

“Hey! What’s up with you three? I thought we were going to meet back at the base?”

The three ruffled heroines embarassedly dropped their eyes before Miss Victory attempted to change the subject by asking She-Cat if she had run into any problems at the house out in the country.

“Not a one. Nobody there. I ripped the place up pretty good, though. What happened here?”

The Blue Bulleteer tried the casual approach. “Oh, not much. We ran into Lady Luger and Panzer, but they got away.”

“The three of you let them get away?!?”

“We didn’t let them do anything, Jess!” Miss Victory looked at her compatriots, “We’ll get them the next time.”

The End

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“With a Bullet” by Femfan1

Posted: December 10, 2009 at 8:42 pm | Tags: femfan1

by Femfan1 from story concepts by P. O’Donnel

A gloved hand reached up to knock on the massive oaken door. A courtesy. She had been under constant video surveillance since her vehicle had entered the front drive. Upon her arrival, the steel security gate had swung open allowing her access to the walled compound of the estate. She was expected. Indeed, her presence had been requested.

Before she could rap her knuckles against the wood, the door clicked open and she was confronted by a large man in an ill-fitting suit. His unbuttoned jacket did little to conceal the bulge of the automatic weapon beneath.

Disappointment registered on his face as his eyes gave her the once over. With a gesture, he ushered her inside, closing the door behind her.

“Please, follow me.”

The Weapons Mistress took in the floorplan of the rooms as she casually obeyed the instruction. To the side, rooms led to more rooms, interconnected, while the entrance foyer shifted into a narrower hallway at the center of the dual staircase between which they now travelled. At the back of the hallway, a left turn brought them into a study where two more men talked. The larger of the two gentlemen was dressed much like her guide and was roughly the same height, although a little puffier. The seated man, dressed in jeans and a golf shirt, was almost certainly her host. Their conversation broke off as she entered the room.

“Ahhh, Colt! Thank you, for coming!” The man rising to his feet extended his hand in welcome. “I’m Jim Courtwright.”

“Hello, Mr. Courtwright.” Colt nodded to her host and acknowledged his companion, as well.

“Forgive me, this is my head of security, Bill Mueller.”

“It’s nice to meet you both. What can I do for you, Mr. Courtwright? You seemed to be in quite a hurry to see me.”

“Mmm… right to it. Yes, that’s for the best. Wilson, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment. Close the door behind you, please.”

Her guide exited the room and the door shut.

“Would you like to have a seat?”

“Thank you.” Colt moved toward the offered chair but, feigning distraction, detoured to the antique flintlock pistol displayed on the wall. “I take it you’re an afficionado of firearms, Mr. Courtwright?”

“Uhm, yes, yes, I am. Well, antiques, actually. Not just firearms, either. Furnishings, sculptures…” Breaking off his thought, he lifted a piece of paper from his desk and extended it towards her. “This is why I’ve asked to meet with you.”

Colt took the piece of paper, blank except for a short note printed in standard type.

“Enjoy tomorrow because the next sunset will be the last time you live to see daylight.”

An agitated Courtwright held up a handful of similar papers. “These came before. I hadn’t taken them very seriously. Because of my wealth, the threat of kidnaping for ransom is always present. I’ve even had threats on my life before as a result of ill feelings after business deals. Mueller here has been handling my security for many years and I have the utmost confidence in his abilities. No threat has ever come close to being carried out.”

The big man’s eyes seemed to be staring a hole in the floor. Colt handed the threatening note back to Courtwright.

“I initially hired Bill because he had the reputation as one of the best security men in the business. He’s proven his abilities and I’ve trusted him with my life. However, while one of the best, he’s not ‘the best’ in the business. From all I understand, that title belongs to you, and present circumstances require that I be protected by the best.”

“What makes the most recent threat of any more concern than the others, Mr. Courtwright?” Colt studied Mueller’s attempts to hide his discomfort at the perceived injury to his reputation by his employer.

“The fact that it was waiting on my pillow when I went to bed last night. That’s a breach of security that’s unprecedented. What’s worse, nobody can tell me how it happened so I can’t be certain it won’t happen again.”

“So, you want to hire me to find out how security was breached.”

“Yes, for a start. I also want to live to see tomorrow morning and I want whoever’s making these threats caught. If you’re as good as I hear you are, and given the rather specific nature of the most recent threat, I believe we’re talking about one night’s work. Needless to say, I’ll pay handsomely for your services.”

Colt considered the offer. She wished she had more background on her potential client. The quick background check she had completed this morning before agreeing to meet with him had revealed only that he had no criminal record or known criminal associates. Her more detailed check conducted on the plane ride here had disclosed that much of his wealth had been inherited, although he had invested wisely and had added to the family fortune. A rare mention in the society pages. An even rarer mention in the financial section. He seemed nervous, eager to have her accept his offer. Natural under the circumstances.

“My normal rate for investigation is $1000 a day, plus expenses. I don’t generally act as a bodyguard, although under the circumstances keeping you alive is part of the deal. In that regard, I wouldn’t want there to be any friction with Mr. Mueller and his associates. I’d appreciate his assistance, but I’d be working for you.”

“$1000?” Courtwright reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a stack of bills. Peeling two from the top, he handed them to Colt. “This being Friday, I went to the bank and withdrew some money so that I’d have cash for a down payment in the event you agreed to help me. It appears my idea of the value of my life is quite a bit higher than your ‘normal’ rate. Strange, I find myself wishing you’d asked for more, although I suppose I’ll get your best effort no matter what I pay.”

Colt took the bills and slipped them into her jacket pocket. “I’ll need a rundown of everything that’s happened so far. A layout of the estate and the buildings on it, and the security measures in place.”

“Of course! Bill, take care of it.”

Mueller nodded his head in assent. “Yes, sir! Colt if you’ll come with me we can head over to the main security room and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Colt followed Mueller out of the study and down a staircase. The security chief seemed to be handling the incursion into his area of responsibility well. He swiped a passcard through a reader and a metal door opened into a room full of video monitors. Sitting down at a table, he pushed a folder in her direction. “Here’s a copy of the file. Everything we’ve got on this case.”

The Weapons Mistress surveyed the contents. “Mm-hmm. Tell me about the estate.”

“About 25 acres. Roughly rectangular. It’s walled on 3 sides. Stone. You saw. About 8 feet high. The top has broken glass cemented onto it and a 3 foot barbed-wire extension tilted out. There are motion sensors on the inside perimeter set about 4 feet high and 10 feet wide. The fourth side is a cliff face that looks out on the ocean. There’s a 12 foot high electrified fence that’s turned on at night. There’s also a security gate that leads to steps down to the beach. Three of my people patrol the grounds randomly every night, coding in their arrival at checkpoints they’re required to reach at least once every hour. We also have electronic video surveillance of the grounds. The cameras pan automatically but can also be manually operated from this room. There are no blindspots within 100 yards of the main house.”

“What about the other buildings?”

“A guest house, a 6-car garage, an outdoor kitchen, a shower when you come up from the beach. We’ve swept the structures and all are empty. Video surveillance around each.”

“How about surveillance inside the main house?”

“None. Mr. Courtwright doesn’t want it. Instead, he’s got live-in security. Myself, Wilson, Jones, de Souza, and Ames. Those are my people. We’ve all worked together at least 10 years. They’re professionals. I just don’t know how this guy got into the house!”

“Guy?”

“Man, woman, who knows. My gut says it’s a guy!”

“Mmm…Okay, theories on how the threat got into his room?”

“He was at a charity function last night. People knew that he’d be attending and that it would run late. Three of us were with him, so only two people were left to watch the grounds. One outside and one in this room. Neither saw or heard anything suspicious.”

“What about other staff?”

“A cook, a butler, and a maid. They had left for the day before we headed out to the charity event on Thursday evening. This morning he called them all and gave them today and the rest of the weekend off. Fewer people for us to keep track of inside the house.”

“Okay, I’d like to meet the rest of your people.”

“Let’s take a walk.”

With efficiency, Colt was introduced to Candace Jones, Patricia de Souza and Ronald Ames, and re-introduced to Phil Wilson. All four seemed fiercely loyal to Mueller but she didn’t sense great irritation that she had been employed. The Weapons Mistress found it odd that they weren’t more ticked off that she was there. It would only be natural for them to be annoyed by the thought that their employer had found their services deficient.

By the time she had inspected the length of the grounds and all of the structures, it was dusk. Colt returned with Mueller to the main house where both once again met with Mr. Courtwright.

The Weapons Mistress wasted no time, “Let Mr. Mueller and his people handle things on their end, business as usual. I’d like to put a wire on you so that we can communicate directly at any time. I’m aware of your feelings about your privacy b…”

“Nonsense! These are extraordinary circumstances. You want me to wear a wire, I’ll wear a wire!”

“Good. That’s sensible.” Colt pulled a small transmitter/receiver from a pouch on her belt and inserted it inside Courtwright’s ear. One of her own earrings received transmissions on the same frequency. “Okay, everyone can carry on as usual. I’ll be around.”

With that pronouncement, the Weapons Mistress turned on her heels and walked toward the steps leading to the main security room, leaving Courtwright to ponder what exactly she would be doing to protect him. After a moment’s hesitation, Mueller followed.

“You’ll be around?” A grin flashed across Mueller’s face.

“Yeah. I want to see those floorplans again and I’m going to want access to every room in the house.”

Mueller slid his access card through the door lock and they entered the security room. “Sure, I’ll tell my people not to get in your way.”

The bank of video monitors panned the grounds. “Well, the sun’s set. 9 hours ‘till dawn. Time to get to work.” Colt strode out of the security room with plans in hand, leaving Mueller to oversee his own people. Something about the “security” didn’t seem right to her, but she didn’t sense that any of them were behind Courtwright’s troubles. The first question to answer was how somebody got into the house to leave the note. Even with only two security people present last night, the other measures should ordinarily have been sufficient to keep unwanted intruders from accessing the grounds. Perhaps a highly skilled thief? Not usually the type to commit murder. Although not out of the question. Dollface leapt to mind! Still, what dealings would Courtwright have had with her?

Another possibility was an inside job. Her earlier walk-through of the house hadn’t measured up. Now, as she paced the formal living room, it was clear that the dimensions did not correspond with the floorplan. Secret passageways wouldn’t be uncommon in a house of this vintage. If the occupants knew of them, why wasn’t she told, and, if they didn’t, who might?

In her ear, she listened to Courtwright as he prepared for bed. The sound of the TV turning on caught her attention. Reaching into her belt, she activated her transmitter, “Mr. Courtwright, please turn off the TV, the noise might mask something I need to hear.”

“But, how’m I going to fall asleep?”

“Read a book, count sheep, no TV, no radio.”

The TV turned off and she could hear him rummaging around. The sound of his body climbing back into bed was followed by the flipping of pages and muttering. It would seem he’d chosen reading a book. Colt returned the transmitter to her belt and continued examining the living room. If there was a secret passageway, she placed it between this room and the study. She surveyed the fixtures. None appeared to be original to the room. At the rear of the room, two thin lines of dust at the baseboard of the inset bookcase. Typical, but where’s the release catch? Extracting a small aerosol bottle from a pouch on her boot, she sprayed the woodwork of the cabinet. The oily residue of fingerprints concentrated in one area led her to closer inspection and, when she pushed with her own thumb in the same spot, the bookcase slid forward noiselessly to reveal the passageway between the walls that she had suspected.

Extracting a small flashlight, she entered the darkness, following a collection of footprints left in the dust. Her path took her to the edge of a staircase leading both down into the darkness and up toward the second floor. She had an idea where the passage up came out, Courtwright’s bedroom, but what of the one going down?

Suddenly, in her ear, she heard the sound of Courtwright stirring. “Wha..? You! How’d you get in here? Wait! Colt! Colt, where are you!?! No! Nmph!” The sound of Courtwright’s muffled voice echoed in the Weapons Mistress’s ear as she bounded up the steps of the interior staircase. Then, two muffled shots and silence!

Colt had reached the top of the stairs and turned a corner in the passageway when she saw that the secret entrance to Courtwright’s room was ajar. Her Clippers already in her hands, she proceeded cautiously. Whoever had been in Courtwright’s room hadn’t exited this way and she had to assume was still in there. Sliding out of the passage into the moonlit room, she found no one. Moving quietly and ever alert, she checked the bedroom door and found it locked. A quick glance under the bed and up at the ceiling revealed nothing. The closet was empty, as was the bathroom, and the window latched shut. Could there be another exit to a different passageway?

She approached Courtwright’s bed. His body, sprawled out beneath the covers, was motionless. A bullet-riddled pillow covered his face. “Damn!” A note pinned to the other side of the pillow caught her attention. Leaning over, so as not to disturb the scene, she grasped the corner of the message and peered at it in the low light.

“Good night, Colt?” A flash of light from below blinded her as smoke billowed up into her mouth and nostrils! Coughing from the noxious fumes, she stepped back, her mind reeling! In a daze she stumbled back toward the bed, grabbing the now destroyed pillow and tossing it aside to reveal the shattered head of a mannequin.

She was vaguely aware that the lights had come on in the room as she fell forward, queasy, her head swimming in an ocean of swirling colors. Her body slumped upon the bed, but rubbery legs were unable to support her and she slid down until her momentum left her toppling backwards onto the floor. Lashes fluttered over glazed eyes before heavy lids shut and she sank into unconsciousness.

Part 2

“Unhh…”

Conscious thoughts drifted into her dream and the Weapons Mistress realized she was awakening. Her body ached. The sensation of liquid on her lips suggested blood. Odd, she didn’t remember taking a beating.

“Uhh…”

She forced her eyes open for the briefest of moments before the first glare of light slammed them shut again. Trying again, she managed a view through fluttering eyelashes but the gauzy haze revealed nothing. Blinking her eyelids open, she gave her pupils some time to adjust. Through still cloudy vision she realized somebody was right in her face, peering at her.

“Ohh…”

Shutting her eyes briefly, she tried to clear her head. It seemed even her teeth hurt. Determined, she opened her eyes again to return the stare of…

“Mmm…”

Her own reflection. As her vision, and her wits, returned, it occurred to her that she was laying face down. The bloody lip she had imagined, only drool escaping from the side of her mouth. She rolled herself over on to her back and wiped her mouth dry with her forearm. The stiffness in her arms and legs, and the crick in the back of her neck, signaled she had been motionless in her previous position for some time. Colt felt bruising on her chin and cheek. Whoever had left her in here hadn’t been worried about her hurting herself as she hit the floor. She shivered. The room was inordinately cold. She looked up at the ceiling a good 30 feet away. Most likely plexiglass, the light bathing the room originating on the other side. The walls, stainless steel.

“Urrr…”

Colt sits and contemplates her situation!Her bearings established, she moved herself into a sitting position. Her costume had been removed. That would at least partially explain why she felt she was freezing. She had been left in a bra and panties. She didn’t need to check to know that her earrings had been removed, as well. Colt noted ruefully that even her fingernails had been trimmed.

She contemplated the undergarments that clearly were not the ones she had previously been wearing. The black lace bra was at least two sizes to small and so constricting that she wondered if it might be affecting her circulation. The matching thong panties fit only slightly better. Her captor had been thorough. He had taken no chance that she had secreted a weapon in any article of her clothing. Indeed, it was a smart move on his part, she had used the underwire in her bra to escape predicaments before. Still, why not leave her naked?

“Hmmm…”

Most likely, there was some kind of tracking device attached to the clothing. She made a mental note to ditch the provided outfit when she came up with a plan for escape. In the meantime, what little coverage it provided was welcome.

Standing, she looked around the room. It was approximately 8 feet by 8 feet, with no windows. The floor and walls were stainless steel as she had initially surmised. The door was recessed perfectly and, from a distance, its’ location was barely noticeable.

Knitting her brow, she considered the events that had brought her to this room. Clearly, the plot against Courtwright had been a ruse to lure her into a trap. Why her? Perhaps more importantly, why him? Was he the mastermind or acting as a pawn for someone else? Her last memory before awaking was looking up through glazed eyes at his face. If he was behind this, he obviously had some plan for her or he wouldn’t have kept her alive when he had her completely at his mercy. She’d find out soon enough what he had in mind. Meanwhile, she moved about the room trying to generate some body heat to ward off the cold.

***

“Ahh, our Weapons Mistress is awake, is she?”

Courtwright strode into the observation room where Mueller observed the closed-circuit feed from the camera hidden in the lights above Colt’s cell.

“Yes, sir. She’s up and about.”

“Taking her capture well?”

“Very calm.”

“Good. You’ve got the air conditioning cranked up, right?”

“Per instruction. She’s been moving around, trying to warm herself up. When I zoom in, you can see the goosebumps, though.”

“Now, Bill, why would you need to zoom in?” Courtwright laughed and slapped his security chief on the shoulder. “I think it’s time to make it a little colder in there. Crank up the air conditioning. Maybe you won’t need to zoom in to see the goosebumps.”

“Yes, sir. Tell me something…”

“You want to know why she’s not nekkid, Bill?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So does she. One more thing for her to think about. Don’t forget to lower the temperature in there. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

***

A shivering Valencia Kirk stopped to assess her condition. By her count, based upon the steady walking pace she had maintained and the number of steps she had taken, approximately 2 hours had passed. Despite her efforts, she knew her body temperature had fallen. The blue lips and pallid skin of the reflection on the wall told her she was slowly freezing. If she didn’t produce more body heat, it wouldn’t be long before she sank into unconsciousness. The drawback was that to produce more kinetic energy she had to exert more effort. She could only keep up a high enough level for so long and then, tired and sweaty, the cold would do her in twice as fast. Still, better to try something than to slide slowly into oblivion.

Continuing to keep track of her steps, she picked up the pace. Jogging in a circle around the room, she felt some warmth return to her limbs. To take her mind off the cold, she let her mind wander to her encounters with James Courtwright as she tried to deduce the motivation for imprisoning her.

***

Mueller glanced up at the clock. 6 hours since she had first awakened. He’d passed up every opportunity to go on break. The sight of the diminutive hardbody bouncing around the room as her ill-fitting ensemble struggled to contain her flesh had been exhilarating! Oddly, that sensation paled in comparison to the more fascinating recent hours as he had watched her pace slow.

A weary and cold Colt struggles for survival!The bounce in her step had gone and more leaden legs trudged forward. Occasional bursts of energy quickly subsided and the glistening sweat on her skin had gradually taken on the look of frost. Every step seemed more difficult than the last as her strength inexorably diminished, and now, her legs failing her, she stumbled against the wall, leaning heavily against the steel, unable to stand on wobbly legs without assistance. Her fingers struggled to unsecure the bra constricting her heaving chest but, to no avail, as weariness and extreme cold hampered her dexterity. Finally, she slid down the wall to the floor, balling up to try and contain some warmth.

Mueller pressed the intercom button. “Mr. Courtwright, the cold’s got her.”

After a long pause, the panel squawked back, “About time. Turn off the air conditioning and bring the heating coils online.”

Mueller did as instructed and signaled his man at the door to take over for him while he took a break. He wondered if James Courtwright had considered the prospect that the heroine might strip for them of her own volition when the decision was made to dress her in clothing that allowed her to retain the barest measure of her dignity. If so, the deviousness was impressive.

***

The cold chills that wracked Valencia Kirk’s body had imperceptibly been diminishing for the better part of an hour when she sensed warmth replacing the chill in her bones. So, the plan wasn’t for her to freeze to death, at least not yet. As her body temperature slowly returned to normal, she took advantage of the opportunity to relax. Stretching out on the floor, she closed her eyes and reflected on the purpose behind her torture. She had been taken to the brink of death and then spared. Why? Was it as simple as a sadistic impulse to keep her alive so that she could act as a further victim, or was there more to it? Perhaps, a test? Of stamina? Or will?

One thing was for certain, she wasn’t done. Heat would be the next hurdle. She could feel the steel below her back getting hotter. Then, the room went completely dark and she heard a sound from somewhere overhead before the metallic ringing of an object hitting the floor reverberated around the room. When the lights returned seconds later, she raised herself up onto her haunches and looked to see what had joined her in her cell. A bar of chocolate? She walked over and picked it up.

“Hmmm.”

An energy bar. Unwrapped. Drugged? She tossed it in the corner. No need to find out. Any benefit it could give would be temporary and was outweighed by the risk. Besides, it had already provided her with confirmation of what had previously only been speculation. There was access to the room through the ceiling and, most likely, cameras up above recording her every move. Of course, that knowledge and a nickel wouldn’t buy her a dime candy.

The room had become uncomfortably warm as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Temperature extremes. She’d been right. It seemed part of the agenda was to wear her down physically and mentally. She decided the plan wasn’t for her to die in this room and that whatever happened here was leading up to something else. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and watched the chocolate covering of the energy bar melt onto the floor.

***

Colt gets the hotfoot!Ames watched as beads of perspiration falling from the Weapons Mistress’s body turned to steam upon hitting the steel floor of her cell. That was more like it! The hotfoot provided by raising the temperature had lifted her from the doldrums of heat exhaustion and sent her knees thrusting into the air as she tried to avoid burning the soles of her feet. As expected, Ames was enjoying the show, salivating over the jiggling flesh on the monitor, when Mueller returned.

“Ron, what the hell?”

“She needed a little wake-up, boss!”

“Dammit! Courtwright wants her softened up, not cooked! Knock it off!”

“Okay. Okay. Here, I’m turning the setting back to where it was before. Are you happy now? Jeez, I just wanted to have a little fun!”

“You better hope that this little stunt of yours doesn’t get back to Courtwright. He’ll have your head. Get outta here, you’re back on perimeter duty.”

“Aww, come on, Bill! She’s not hurt. Look! She’s fine!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. I hope the show was worth it, Ron, because I’m not letting you behind these controls again.”

“Damn, Bill,” Ames got up to leave the control room. “Well,” he turned and winked at his boss, “It was worth it.”

Mueller watched him go and, as the door shut, he chuckled to himself. “I’ll bet it was.”

***

An exhausted Valencia Kirk, breathing heavily, staggered across the floor. Every breath caused her to wince from the pain in her lungs. The metal had cooled enough that she was in no danger of burning her feet but the temperature in the room still had the feel of a sauna. Weary, she dropped to her knees and tried to compose herself. When the floor had heated to burning temperatures, she’d wondered if she’d been wrong about the plan not being for her to die in this room. Now, as the heat had again become more bearable before she suffered any serious injury, she was more convinced than ever that she had been right.

Lifting her head, she looked up at the lights and smiled.

“I’m still here.”

Part 3

The lights had gone out but the stifling heat remained and there was a heavy dampness in the air that could not be accounted for solely by the steam rising from her own sweat. The humidity in the room filled her lungs and made it difficult for her to breathe. An additional torment? The scent, not eucalyptus, but familiar. Of course! Val dropped to the floor and kept her breathing shallow. Gas!

Despite her quick reaction, she was already feeling light-headed. Indeed, she realized that there was little she could do to prevent herself from feeling whatever effect was intended. Once the room was saturated, staying low would be little help as the fumes would gradually sink all the way to the floor. She felt her mind tiring and her breathing grew heavy. With a start she realized the lights had come back on but the room was engulfed in fog. Had she heard a door opening? Two sets of hands grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back as a knee pressed between her shoulder blades kept her stationary on the floor. Once her wrists had been safely shackled together, she was roughly hoisted to her feet to be escorted from the room. In truth, despite her efforts to walk on her own might, her rubbery legs left her handlers to do most of the work as she was unceremoniously dragged into a hallway.

Free from the noxious air, her mind began to clear and she recognized Jones and Wilson as they took off their gas masks. She tried to rise to her feet but stumbling legs still refused to follow her mental command and she again found herself half-dragged, half-carried by the pair through a haze of corridors until, with a suddenness, she was on the grounds of the estate squinting against the late afternoon sunshine.

The fresh air and natural light aided her in shaking off the effects of the sleeping gas and, by the time the trio reached their evident destination, Val was again alert and fit. Courtwright stood with the rest of his bodyguards before her.

“Hey, there, Colt, I hope you’ve been enjoying the accommodations!” Courtwright had a wide grin on his face from the knowing sarcasm, cocksure that he was in control.

Val took a long look at her “host.” He was decked out like some gunfighter in a spaghetti western with a longcoat, double-gunbelts, and two six-shooters. She pursed her lips as if giving the question consideration. “Not particularly.”

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that.” Courtwright retained the grin, but his annoyance at the nature of her reaction was visible in his eyes. He had expected false bravado from a proud heroine. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here?”

“Actually, I’m more interested in determining how I’m going to leave.”

There was a little bit more of the attitude he expected, although still not what he had imagined. Courtwright had to admit she was a cool one. “Oh, it all ties in. You may recall, when you first arrived, noticing my interest in firearms. At the time, modesty precluded me from admitting that my interest runs quite deep. In fact, more than an interest, it’s a passion!”

With lightning speed, Courtwright drew a sidearm and a bullet crashed through a wooden stake planted in the ground 25 feet away as the gun’s report and the pistol sliding back into its holster happened almost simultaneously. “A passion that led to my taking up shooting at a tender age.” He whirled and fired his other weapon, obliterating a different stake 30 feet away. As he casually slid the .45 back into its holster, it was difficult to recall the gun having been drawn.

“As a young buck, I showed some promise.” Both guns blazed as stakes in two separate directions 35 feet away shattered and with a twirling flourish each pistol was re-holstered. “Since then, it’s been practice, practice, practice!” Before she could blink, Val was staring down the barrel of an old Smith and Wesson.

Courtwright winked, and put the gun away. “To make a long story short, I’ve developed a reputation in some circles as the fastest gun alive. I’ve met some others who’ve made the same claim. We meet at privately sponsored contests, here and there, around the world. So far, I’m the only one who can still claim to be the fastest. Or alive, for that matter.”

“Yeah, you sure killed those wooden stakes dead.” Val nodded appreciatively as if she was serious.

Courtwright’s eyes darkened. “Make no mistake, the mortality of the target is of no concern to me. Indeed, that’s why I was approached about you. You’ve made some enemies and it seems that at least some of your enemies are the kind of people who have knowledge of my extracurricular activity.”

Placid blue eyes returned his gaze. As Courtwright’s pause failed to elicit a response, he continued, “Not interested in who? Well, probably best, as I’m not at liberty to divulge that information just yet. Anyway, I was approached by these as yet unnamed individuals and asked if I’d have any interest in engaging you in a gunfight. Colt? The Weapons Mistress? says I! She’s got a reputation as a crack shot. Some might even say she’s the fastest gun alive! Of course, I’d be interested in a duel. If the price is right. But, how? She’d never agree to such a thing!”

Val let him talk. Not only was information valuable, but the insights into his character might be exploited. It was evident that he enjoyed being in control of the situation. He wanted her to know how good he was and to remind her that he had power. Partly, she surmised, out of ego, but buried deep she sensed that, like many arrogant people, he had self-doubt.

“Funny thing is, Colt, the price was right. So right that it had to happen whether you would agree or not. I suppose your enemies knew that would be the case when they approached me. You see, any price would have been right if it was enough to make it happen. Once they put the thought in my head, I had to know how it would turn out. They paid me handsomely and left the arrangements to me and you walked into my trap like a doe to a brook.

“Still, despite my disappointment at how little opposition you’ve been so far, I’d like to be as fair as possible. That’s why I’ve arranged for this little demonstration. So, you can see exactly what you’re going to be facing.”

Courtwright shed his long coat and turned. A set of sequenced lights, like those found at the start of a drag race, was set up 50 feet away. The two vertical columns of lights, going from red at the top, through 4 rows of amber, to green at the bottom, were unlit. “Ames, show Colt here how fast the sequence goes from red to green.”

Ames pressed a button on a remote and the lights cycled in less than a second. Giving her a toothy smile, Ames pressed the button again and again green appeared a split second after red.

“Thanks, Ron. Whenever you’re ready.” Courtwright stood feet shoulder width apart, hands at the ready near the butt of his guns.

Val saw the red light and then the green, without a hint of amber crossing her vision, as blazing pistols and shattering glass echoed in her ears.

Courtwright slipped the empty cartridge out of both revolvers and re-loaded. “Of course, you could do that, right?”

“Don’t know. I’d be happy to try.” Val smiled.

“Yeah, not going to happen today.” Firing behind his back, Courtwright blasted the head off a mannequin set up 40 feet away. “Not going to happen tomorrow, either.” Another report from his weapon and a bullet burned through twine holding up a wooden target. A third found the bullseye before the target hit the ground.

“Fast and accurate. That’s some of the best shooting I’ve ever seen.” Val’s comment elicited the reaction she expected. He wanted her to show fear, through word or gesture, to assure himself that he was in control. Her matter of fact attitude worried him. She could sense that Courtwright was becoming more and more irritated that she wasn’t seemingly impressed enough with his ability or the precariousness of her situation. He had already spent so much time trying to make sure that she wasn’t physically or mentally at the top of her game when he faced her that he had already revealed his own doubts as to whether he was able to best her if she was at full strength. Sowing new seeds of doubt in his mind could only work to her advantage.

“You stupid fool! I’m not looking for your unbiased opinion. I’m going to kill you tomorrow! Gun you down like a dog! Don’t you realize that?!?” Courtwright’s face began to turn red. “Come on, let’s show her where she’s going to die.”

The group marched toward the side of the estate overlooking the ocean. Val strolled confidently as she was led first down one side of a divided stone staircase and then down the main staircase to a field bordered on the other end by the cliff overlooking the beach below. She kept her posture straight and a look of bemusement on her face as she knew that everyone was watching her. Some, like Courtwright, were looking for signs of weakness or fear. Others were hoping to gain some insight into whether she would survive their employer’s murderous intentions, at least long enough to be done in by someone else among the group. Still others simply took pleasure in watching her body move in the sheer fabric of the tight bra and panties in which she remained clad.

With the setting sun behind them, Courtwright said, “Tomorrow, at noon, you’ll be brought here to face me in mortal combat.” Waving a hand toward the ocean, he continued, “You’ll stand over there and I’ll descend down this staircase to meet you on the field of battle. I’ve made a pact with your acquaintances to record the event for posterity so that they may view your demise despite being unable to attend out of what I believe to be an overabundance of caution. I’m sure the video will prove to be an international sensation in underworld circles.”

Val rolled her eyes. “Oh, please!”

Courtwright shot her a glance with piercing eyes before allowing a quirky smile to play across his lips. “Come on, I’m the villain of the piece. A little melodrama is to be expected isn’t it?”

His bodyguards chuckled at the change of pace. Wilson chided her, “Come on sweet cheeks, where’s your sense of humor?” The follow-up pinch of her butt prompted such a startled reaction in Val that the chuckles turned to guffaws.

Val eyed Wilson up and down. “I’ll remember that.”

De Souza shook her head sadly. “Not for long, honey.”

“Okay, okay, we’re done here.” Mueller motioned for Wilson and Jones to escort Colt back to the mansion.

As the big man stepped toward her side, Val waited until his lead foot was about to plant and then set herself up for a kick that drove her heel down into the side of his knee just as he shifted his weight forward onto that leg. The effect was instantaneous as Wilson crumpled to the ground, howling, and clutching his knee.

“You %!#%*! Oh, spit! This freakin’ hurts! Ohhh! I’ll kill you!” Wilson reached for the gun in his shoulder holster only to come up short as he saw the barrel of Courtwright’s revolver inches away from his forehead.

“Now, Phil, that’s my job. I’d hate to lose you.” Courtwright stared the big man down. With little other choice, Wilson gritted his teeth and decided to examine his injury rather than follow through with his impulse.

Val looked at De Souza. “I guess I had long enough.”

Standing at Colt’s shoulder, Jones said, “Just barely,” even as she jammed a hypodermic needle into Colt’s glute.

Colt winced. She hadn’t seen that coming. She felt her body tense up. Soon she was unable to move her limbs as the toxin affected her nervous system. In seconds, she was stiff as a board and about to fall over when Jones caught her under her arms.

Courtwright walked over to the helpless heroine. “You’re supposed to be good. Look at you. Pathetic! I was going to make it fairly quick tomorrow, give you an honorable death, but you don’t deserve it! Maybe I should gut-shoot you and let you bleed out. That would be appropriate ‘cause you’re gutless! You were easy to capture, you’re ineffectual at escape. Look at you, you can’t even stand up to me. Get her out of here!”

Mueller ordered Ames to help Jones carry Colt’s rigid body back to her cell. The involuntary convulsions wracking the body of the Weapons Mistress made the task more difficult but soon she was again face down on the stainless steel floor of her home for the last day. Ames removed the shackles binding her wrists together. “Don’t worry, Sugar, the poison wears off in about an hour. You’ll be up jogging around again in no time. Let me just say, it’s been a pleasure getting to see you in person. I’m a big fan. It’s a shame Courtwright’s gonna kill you tomorrow.”

Val lay motionless on the floor. She knew that the toxin wasn’t responsible for the tightness she was feeling in her chest. Despite Courtwright’s own self-doubt, no amount of mind games would change the fact that he was faster than her. Much faster, even before his ploys to wear her down. After sleep deprivation, temperature extremes, poison, and sleeping gas, there was no chance that she could beat him on the draw. When noon rolled around, she was going to die. The tightness she was feeling in her chest was fear!

Part 4

The cycle had again turned cold, but Valencia Kirk paid no attention. With knowledge of her abductor’s plan, came the understanding that Courtwright would make certain that she survived any of his attempts to wear her down. He wanted her uncomfortable, depleted, ill, but not dead. At least, not yet. Even as he added a mist of water to increase the chill, she sat relaxed in a meditative state, re-playing his shooting exhibition in her mind. Many times in the past hours, she’d realized her heart was racing and she’d had to force herself to calm down. She understood and accepted that she was afraid, but she couldn’t allow her anxiety and desperation to overcome her instinct for survival. Val was certain that the events of the last 2 days had revealed a way to escape her predicament. All she had to do was visualize it.

Of course, even if she figured out how to best Courtwright, there would still be Mueller and his associates to tackle. They were all armed professionals who were unlikely to embrace the idea of going to jail. Luckily, Wilson had provided her with an opportunity to reduce the odds against her without his injury appearing to have been done for that purpose. Finally, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep. She needed to be as rested as possible come morning.

Val awoke to find herself being carried down a hallway by De Souza and Jones. Her wrists were again cuffed behind her back. They entered a locker room and Val spied her costume, neatly folded, on a long table. De Souza saw that their burden was alert.

“Candy, she’s awake.”

Jones nodded in understanding and allowed Colt’s legs to drop to the floor. The Weapons Mistress unsteadily wavered on still rubbery limbs. De Souza unhooked Colt’s bra in the back and easily tore the sheer fabric straps around her shoulders, allowing the garment to drop to the floor. Then, she grabbed the lace at each of Colt’s hips and ripped the panties away from the heroine’s body. The Weapons Mistress raised an eyebrow and De Souza smirked before pushing Colt toward another door.

“Time to get you cleaned up for your funeral!”

The feel of warm water splashing against Val’s skin soothed bones and muscles sore from over 30 hours of combined confinement. De Souza enthusiastically applied fragrant soap to Colt’s body while Jones kneaded shampoo through the trademark long red hair of the Weapons Mistress. Val enjoyed the massaging effect of their fingers pressing into her flesh. By the time the last of the sweat and grime had been washed from her body, she felt relaxed and invigorated.

As Jones turned off the shower, De Souza squeezed the excess water from Colt’s hair. With stunning quickness, Val slammed the back of her skull into De Souza’s forehead, sending the wiry blonde reeling. Before Jones could react, Colt leaped into the air and caught her with a straight kick to the chest that slammed her into the wall.

Val made a break for the door and her gear, but as she crashed into the adjoining room she tripped over an extended leg and skidded futilely across the floor. A knee between her shoulder blades stopped her floundering attempts to regain her footing.

“Grab her legs.”

Mueller and Ames hoisted the Weapons Mistress into the air and dropped her down hard on the table as she squirmed unsuccessfully in an attempt to break free of their grips.

“Now that wasn’t very nice of you! The ladies were just following Mr. Courtwright’s orders to have you looking fit and healthy for the showdown.”

Jones burst through the door from the shower room. “Aaargh! I swear, I’m going to lay a whippin’ on that…”

“Forget it, Candice! Everything’s under control. How’s De Souza?”

“She’s out cold, Bill! Probably got a concussion! As far as I’m concerned, we should just do her now. She’s dangerous! We’re takin’ a big chance here!”

“Yeah, maybe, but you know as well as I do that Courtwright’s a helluva lot more dangerous. Look, Patty’ll be fine. She’s tough. Go get some smellin’ salts and wake her ass up, that’s all.”

Mueller pressed down hard on the back of Colt’s neck and grabbed a towel from the table with his free hand while Ames maintained an iron grip on her ankles. He chuckled as he began to dry off her back.

“I’ll tell you what, Colt. It’s a good thing you only have another hour to live or that girl would kill you!”

Once he had finished toweling off her rear, Mueller and Ames flipped the Weapons Mistress over. Pressing his forearm against her throat, Mueller smiled as Colt tried in vain to draw air into her lungs while he worked the cotton fabric against her chest and abdomen. Her body jerked violently as she slowly asphyxiated, but Mueller abruptly removed the pressure against her throat and shifted it to her chest as he went to work drying off her legs. Finally, he dried her hair as best as he could and wiped off her face while Jones returned and went into the shower room to revive De Souza.

“There you go, almost done.” Mueller tossed her costume pants down towards her legs. “Now, Ron here is going to help you put your clothes on.” He had gone over her garments with a fine-tooth comb and was fairly certain that he’d removed all her hidden gadgets. Still, just in case, he had taken the precaution of putting all of her clothes in the microwave for 30 seconds, long enough to disable any electronic signal device he may have missed. “The boss wants you in costume when he guns you down and then we’ll do the big reveal at the end so that his employers can confirm your identity.”

Colt noticed that the pile of clothes didn’t include her underwear. Probably not integral to Courtwright’s plan and, therefore, subject to scavenging by his vultures as souvenirs. She suspected her earrings had likely been taken as trophies by Courtwright himself.

Mueller covered Colt’s face with the towel and pulled it down tight around her head, once again limiting her ability to breathe. “The longer it takes Ron here to get your pants on, the worse off you’re going to be when you face Courtwright, so I suggest you don’t struggle.”

Ames released one of her ankles and slid a legging over her foot as the Weapons Mistress began to kick violently. “Oh, good, it looks like this is going to take awhile. I was going to go slow and enjoy myself, anyway.”

As Colt wriggled in her attempts to get free of Mueller’s restraint, Ames carefully worked her pants up onto her legs, avoiding her kicks as she blindly lashed out at him. Once he had reached the top of her thighs, he paused and drank in the scene before yanking the elastic fabric up over her hips. Then, the two men rolled the helpless heroine onto her stomach and Mueller extracted a key from his shirt pocket and unlocked her handcuffs. The weight of the two men forcing her body against the table kept her from being able to wiggle free and they slid her arms through the sleeves of her jacket before her wrists were re-handcuffed. Finally, Ames grabbed each foot in turn and put on her socks and boots before she was pulled off of the table and onto her feet.

Mueller moved in front of the Weapons Mistress, stepping squarely on her toes, while Ames held her from behind. Colt stared at him defiantly, her chest heaving from the exertion of the last few minutes. Mueller pulled the jacket up over her shoulders and buttoned it closed in the front, his eyes never leaving her chest. Ames yanked her hair back into a ponytail and placed her mask onto her head, tying it tight in the back. Then, with a patronizing tap, her hat was placed on her head.

The pair was finished dressing her when Jones and De Souza finally emerged from the shower room. De Souza had a glazed look in her eyes but was walking and seemed to know where she was and what had happened to her. The two women exchanged their wet clothes for dry garments and assisted Ames in holding Colt while Mueller walked over to a cabinet at the far end of the room and removed Colt’s gunbelt from within. He grinned in triumph as he saw the covetous look in the eyes of the Weapons Mistress and wrapped the belt around his own waist.

“Barely fits! I guess I’ll have to have it lengthened.” Mueller thrilled at the look of dejection on Colt’s face. “Things not exactly working out the way you want, huh? I guess maybe you’re not the smartest person in the room, after all.”

Colt’s eyes narrowed. “Who is? Ames?”

“Hunh!” Mueller checked his watch. “Okay, folks, time to head out.”

With De Souza leading, Jones and Ames holding Colt’s arms, and Mueller bringing up the rear, the group moved through the maze of passageways and staircases until they exited the mansion. The ocean water glistened as they walked across the grounds until Colt stood with her back at the fence guarding the cliff. Before her, in the distance, were the steps that she had walked down yesterday. Wilson sat at a table off to the left, elevating his injured leg on a folding chair and talking on a cellphone. On the right, at the middle of the field, was a bank of electronic equipment. Colt noticed several stationary video cameras mounted around the field. Apparently, Courtwright wanted every angle covered. Ames and Jones walked toward the video console and Jones began testing to make sure everything was ready to record while Ames retrieved a hand-held video camera and took up a position just off toward Colt’s right. De Souza moved off to her left and toward Wilson, while Mueller remained by her side.

“There’s no place to run, Colt. So don’t even think about it.” Mueller pulled a vintage Colt .45 out of his shoulder holster and popped out the empty cylinder. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise it shoots straight. If you beat him on the draw, the gun won’t fail you. You deserve that much of a chance.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Mueller placed a single bullet into the cylinder and slid the apparatus back into the revolver making sure that the firing pin would strike the loaded chamber on the next pull. “If you miss, it’ll already be too late.”

“Sure.”

Drawing her waistband away from her skin, Mueller nestled the gun against her belly. “You’re not used to pulling from an open holster anyway.”

“This way’s just as fast.”

Mueller glanced at the Weapons Mistress, her breasts moving up and down with each heavy breath. Removing the handcuff key from his pocket, he moved behind her and put his Glock to her head. “I’m going to unshackle one of your wrists. Put your hands in front of you and cuff your wrists together again or I’ve been authorized by Mr. Courtwright to blow your head off.”

Colt paused and then slowly did as she was told. When the handcuffs clicked back into place, Mueller exhaled, put his gun away, and moved off to her side. “It’s almost over, just a little longer.”

As noon approached, all eyes turned towards the top of the stairs as Courtwright appeared. Dressed in his finest gunslinging garb, he looked like an outlaw in an old western movie. However, the quick-draw guns and gun-belt he sported were decidedly modern. Courtwright began to descend the stairs with a deliberate pace and Mueller knew from his employer’s walk that the tiny heroine would bleed out in the most slow and painful way that Courtwright could engineer. He almost felt sorry for her. She didn’t really deserve to die that way.

“Mueller, I’m sorry but I don’t think I want to die today.”

Mueller felt the bullet rip through the right side of his abdomen before the sound of the shot echoed in his ears. Dropping the gun in her hand, Colt reached out and unlatched her belt from his waist, pulling it off of him as he fell backward. She flung the gunbelt to the ground before her and knelt down as a bullet whizzed by her head.

Courtwright had watched as the Weapons Mistress twisted her body in Mueller’s direction and, while he hadn’t heard the shot, he knew immediately that she was trying to rob him of his moment of glory. Leaping down the steps in twos and threes, he had drawn his guns and was firing shots on the run even as he tried to decrease the distance to his target.

Colt efficiently and methodically pulled her Clipper from it’s holster, ignoring the bullets pounding into the dirt around her. Grabbing a special bullet from a pouch, she inserted it into the gun’s chamber and sighted Courtwright from a kneeling position. He was still about 75 feet away but he was bringing himself under control to take more careful aim as he continued to volley shots with both guns. She felt the sting of a bullet grazing her shoulder just before she fired. Another bullet whizzed past her ear and a final one sliced through her shirt sleeve before she saw his body contort and he fell forward like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Quickly popping a cartridge into the Clipper, Colt fired a knockout bomb toward Candice Jones and the video console. In succession, she emptied the cartridge at Wilson, De Souza, and Ames. The group of bodyguards had been so sure of the outcome that only Jones had reacted quickly enough to get off a shot when things went screwy. Colt’s hat fluttered to the ground pierced by Jones’ bullet.

As the smoke cleared, all was quiet. Colt thanked the decision of her overconfident captors to give the able-bodied Jones and Ames video duties instead of having the already hampered Wilson and De Souza handling the chores. The extra distraction, coupled with the disbelieving surprise of all, probably accounted for the bare margin by which she had escaped mortal injury.

“I can’t believe you shot me! You don’t believe in using deadly force!”

Colt looked over at the fallen Mueller. “I believe in it as a last resort. You should have left me a choice.”

Mueller struggled to sit up, holding his wound as blood poured over his fingers. Disbelieving, he looked at Colt wordlessly.

Colt surveyed the motionless bodies littering the field. “Just apply direct pressure and I’ll get you an ambulance.” Turning back toward Mueller, she saw him reaching for his Glock. Swinging her gunbelt around, she knocked the weapon out of his hands before he could pull the trigger. “That was stupid! Take a look around; you kill me, who’s going to keep you from bleeding to death?”

“I ain’t going to jail. Rather die.”

Colt stood before him. “Too bad.”

A vicious kick to the jaw sent Mueller into dreamland like his comrades. A conscious enemy to keep an eye on was a problem she didn’t need right now. Colt reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuff key. Once her hands were free, she put on her gunbelt and retrieved her hat. Mueller was searched for more weapons and those that were found were confiscated. She then cautiously proceeded to Ames, Jones, De Souza, and Wilson, collecting a cache of firearms and knives.

Finally, she approached Courtwright with care. She was definitely in his range now and, while both his guns had slipped from his grasp when he fell, she didn’t want to learn that he had been playing ‘possum. Reaching him, she kicked both guns away and rolled him over onto his back. His eyes were wide open in shock and drool was coming from his mouth. She pulled the dart out of his chest. “The same nerve toxin you used on me yesterday after that demonstration you gave. I notice you didn’t give me any exhibition of your ability to shoot targets from a great distance. I wonder why you left that out?”

Colt stripped off his clothes, leaving him in his underwear. “Just checking you for other weapons. You can’t be too careful, y’know.” She looked around the field and chuckled at the video cameras. “Not exactly the scene you were hoping to record, is it? I imagine that you’re going to have some people very upset with you. Prison walls probably won’t be able to keep you safe. Of course, that’s not my problem.”

Walking away from the immobilized Courtwright, the Weapons Mistress slipped the cell phone out of the unconscious Wilson’s jacket and pressed 3 digits. Her six tormenters were all out of commission. Each, in their own way, had tried to humiliate her and gratify themselves, but she had the last word. “Hello, there’s been a kidnaping and attempted murder at the Courtwright estate. One of the perpetrators has been shot and is seriously wounded. Send the police and an ambulance!”

The End

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“The Shroud of Night” by Silvano and Femfan1

Posted: December 10, 2009 at 8:46 pm | Tags: femfan1, silvano

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“Trick and Treats!” by Eddy Newell and Femfan1

Posted: December 10, 2009 at 10:13 pm | Tags: eddy newell, femfan1