Black Fox : Revenge of the Jaguar - Part 4
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The following story contains characters owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. It is written as a fanfic parody story not intended to make any use of actual story lines in published books. The story is purely for fun, with no profit to be made by the author. It is free to be archived on any site wishing to do so, provided the author is given proper credit.
by Steve Zink from 'Deus Ex Machina' by libbylawrence
Clark Kent smiled as he entered the Daily Planet building. Even though his super senses of sight and hearing allowed the mild mannered reporter in the blue suit to notice an almost infinite array of details as he gazed around the busy city room, he relished all he saw and heard. He truly enjoyed his job, and felt as if the great Metropolitan newspaper was a second home to him.
A young man with red hair and freckles glanced up from his own work to greet his pal as Kent drew closer to the other workers. "Clark! That was a nice piece you did on the possible reformation of the 1000. Nobody has really followed up on them since they used Metallo against Superman and Cannonball a while back!" said Jimmy Olsen.
Clark nodded modestly and replied, "Thanks, Jim. I'd say that criminal group may indeed be up to their old tricks. Some of their old bosses are out of jail and have returned to the city. That can't be good news for honest citizens!"
Before Jimmy could reply, a pretty woman with dark black hair and a vivacious manner hurried out of the office of Planet editor Perry White. Lois Lane wore a short black dress with heels and she waved in passing as she crossed the large room. "Like the Beatles sang, Hello, Good-bye! I'm late for my flight to Boston. I can't afford to be late for my own tribute!" she said.
Clark said, "Congratulations, again! We're all proud of you."
Jimmy nodded and said, "Yeah, Lois deserves that Women in Journalism Award for a lot of reasons in addition to her sensational story on the Invasion!"
Lois shrugged and said, "Thanks, fellows. That story was pretty special to me. I'm flattered the Women in Journalism group picked it as Outstanding Story of the Year."
A sultry redheaded woman in a short pink skirt and white blouse leaned into the doorway and said, "C'mon, Luv. I'm not about to share the flight out with Rona. I mean, how many times can she crow about her win for that gossipy story she did on 'Super Hero Romances'!"
Lois turned and replied, "Okay, Lana! I'll just grab my bag and join you!"
Lois scampered over to her desk to grab the large, soft bag she'd packed the night before and the hang up bag with all her gowns and dresses. Her hand reached for the handle of the soft bag, but halted briefly as she thought, 'I don't remember stuffing it this full last night. Oh, well.' Hesitations or not, Lois grabbed the handle and hefted the bag, noticing that it wasn't just bulging more, but also now weighed a lot more than she remembered. She picked up the hang up bag, then turned to go join Lana.
Lois and Lana Lang exited from the room and Clark leaned over to Jimmy. "Well, I hope Boston is ready for those two! Trouble can follow them, as well you know!" he said.
"Right!" Jimmy replied. "Too bad for Trouble, they can usually handle almost anything! Plus, I'm sure Superman will check in on them if they do need help."
Clark nodded in agreement. "Right."
He was amused at Jim's deft handling of the fact that he now knew Superman was really Clark Kent. He had proven to be very useful to Clark in helping him keep that fact a secret since he first admitted that he had learned the truth.
The two friends walked over to the windows and gazed down as Lois and Lana emerged below and hailed a taxi.
'I hope they have a good time. I doubt very much could go wrong at a respectable banquet like that,' thought Clark.
* * * * *
Power of a different kind, or the lack of said power, was troubling another very different man as he brooded over a beer or three in a Boston bar.
He leaned over the counter and said, "I could use another!"
An elegantly demure blonde waitress gazed at him with a perceptive if dismissive glance.
"I'm sorry sir, but I think you've had enough for this...month!" she said.
He nodded and stood up on unsteady feet.
"Yeah, thanks...Kelly, is it? Kelly Kelly! What a strange name!" he said as he stumbled out of the bar and ran a hand through his long, straggly red hair.
"Well, Len, you've worn out your welcome at another bar. Just what is there to do when you're a balding stud without a friend or dime to his name?" he said.
He staggered down the sidewalk and gazed up at the plush Boston Arms Hotel.
"Man! I could do with a good night's rest in a pace like that, but my bedbugs have bedbugs so I doubt they would welcome me with open arms!"
"Welcome, Women In Journalism!" he read as he looked at a sign on the hotel's wall.
"Sorry, Newsbabes, but I guess you'll have to do without my company!" he said.
As he made his way down the street, a folded black object fell out of his pocket. He never noticed, and swiftly left the hotel and a bit of destiny behind!
* * * * *
At the Boston Arms, dozens of well-known female journalists from print and broadcast media mingled at the Women in Journalism pre-awards social. The elegantly decorated ballroom was filled with famous women whose bylines or images had graced hundreds of papers and screens.
Central City's Linda Park looked around the room with a certain air of cynicism. She wore a long green gown with high heels and she tried to conceal the fact that she was more than a little dismissive of the entire affair. 'The same dinosaurs get honored every year. Lois Lane, Lana Lang, Vicki Vale, the late Iris Allen! Those same names have always dominated this thing. If it's a TV award, Leggy Lana gets it. If it's a print award, Superman's Girlfriend Lois gets it. The photo field has always been divided between Batman's special gal Vicki Vale and Iris Allen, who kept company with the Ringmaster and the Flash in her day!' she thought.
'The Flash! I thought for a while that I was going to use him for a ticket to the top, but that just didn't pan out!' she thought.
She frowned as the sexy Lana Lang entered in a red beaded gown and high heels.
"Well, she sure caught everyone's eye!" said a black woman in a blue dress.
"Tawny Young? I think I've seen your stuff from out West!" said Linda as she turned to face the speaker.
"I broke the story on Green Lantern," Tawny replied. "The second GL, I mean. "
Linda nodded and said, "I like your style. Very hip, very incisive!"
Tawny rolled her eyes as a very pretty woman with long auburn hair styled in a fluffy do entered in a demure pink gown. "Who's the Prom Queen? She looks like she just stepped off a Homecoming Float!"
"I don't know her either!" said Linda.
The "Prom Queen" was smiling happily as she greeted a stunningly clad Lois Lane, who wore a sparkly black gown and heels.
"Miss Lane? I'm Megan O'Dell. I admire you so much!" gushed the younger woman.
Lois smiled and said, "Megan? I think I've seen a few of your pieces on the Blue Devil! I think you have a real eye for a story!"
"Well," replied Megan, "the Blue Devil seems to attract the strangest elements. I never know when a story about him will lead to an alien invasion or a mad gnome attack!"
The lilac-clad, dark haired Olivia Ortega of Gotham City listened as she drew closer to the pair. She said, "It's not like that in Gotham City. Batman leads to trouble, but rarely does he mix it up with space aliens or vampires!"
Lois laughed and said, "But, working in Gotham City puts a girl at risk of ending up frozen in ice or tied to a giant flaming umbrella or something!"
Just then a hotel attendant approached Lois and passed a note to her. "Lois, meet me in your room. I've got something you need to see." It was unsigned. Lois put the note in her purse, then with a wave said, "Gotta go back to my room for a minute or two, ladies. I'll get back with you in a little bit." Her departure went almost completely unnoticed. A soft whistle passed the lips of the slightly tacky Vicki Vale as she saw a blonde in a silver mini dress and strappy heels enter. "Cat Grant! She is all body and no brains!"
"Oh, don't judge a book by its cover!" said the pretty, auburn haired Joan Lincoln.
Vicki nodded and placed one hand on Joan's bare arm. "Sorry. That was a bit catty! Excuse the expression!"
"Forgive me for being so serious," answered Joan. "I've just gotten back from Markovia and the perils and hardships those brave people face with their heroic ruler, makes me get a bit sober!"
A pretty woman in a light blue gown that revealed a lot of leg swept into the room and smiled winningly. "Markovia? Isn't that home to that gorgeous Geo-Force? We simply must talk!" said Lola Barnett.
At that moment, Lois was unlocking her room door, wondering how anyone else could get in to meet her there. The opened door revealed nothing, for her room was totally unlit. As soon as she'd turned on the light and locked the door behind her, the answer to her question suddenly popped into view.
"Who are you- oh, wait. I've seen reports about you and the Fearsome Five from a couple of years ago. You're Psimon, aren't you?"
"Yes, indeed, Ms. Lane. I am Psimon, and if you were wondering about your heavier and more bulging bag earlier today, I took the liberty of adding a good bit to it while no one was watching. Why don't you unzip the middle portion and take a look at what I added?"
From what she'd heard about this villain, Lois knew he could have just materialized anything into her bag. She also knew he could easily make her do anything, so why was he toying with her like this? Out of curiosity, she walked over to the bag next to the bed and placed it on top of the bed. After opening it up, she unzipped the inner portion.
"What the- How did all this weaponry possibly get in here, let alone get through all the airport security? And what's with this red latex catsuit and red boots in with the weapons? My God, look at the heels on these things!"
"Like I said, I added all of that to your bag earlier today. As you probably know, I can materialize anything almost anywhere. The weaponry is all going to be put to good use. The red costume with it is to be worn by the evil to the core villainess and felonious femme fatale called Executrix, the latest member of the newly reformed Fearsome Five. And why do you suppose Executrix's costume is in your bag, Ms. Lane?"
"Did you put it there in order to get it into the hotel and ceremony area without question? And if so, when is this Executrix, as you call her, supposed to come here and get her gear?"
"Of course it was to get it all here without question," Psimon answered, as if talking to an ignorant youngster. "And Executrix is already here."
"What do you mean? Where?" Lois asked as she looked all around herself.
"Look at the mirror over the desk, Ms. Lane."
Lois found she had to do as instructed. Something, or rather someone named Psimon was in her head forcing her to do so.
"Do you see the face in that mirror, Ms. Lane?"
"Yes, of course. That's my face."
"Study that face as I give your mind a bit of enlightenment," Psimon ordered.
A bit more than a minute later, as Lois continued to stare unblinking at her own image, Psimon said, "Do you still see the face in the mirror?"
"What a stupid question. It's the same face I've been staring at for the last minute or two, and seeing in mirrors for all my life!"
"Now, keep watching that face, Ms. Lane. It's important that you know exactly who you're seeing. As of right now, you are no longer just Lois Lane."
Psimon used his mental powers, and activated the identity he'd placed in Lois's mind a moment before. "Now then, whose face do you see in the mirror?"
"Psimon, you silly boy, of course that's the face of Lois Lane. But along with some makeup, my red wig and my mask, it's also the face of the most evil and malicious assassin the world has ever seen. Suitably changed, this is the face of Executrix!"
Psimon grinned wickedly. All was now in readiness for the debut of the Fearsome Five's newest villainess. "Just remember, Executrix, you have to hide yourself behind the good girl identity of Lois Lane whenever you aren't on the job. No need to hide as of right now, though, because tonight you're on the job."
"Okay, Psimon, just give me a moment to change. Who's my target for tonight?" asked the woman who still looked like Lois but now had an evil look to her face and a voice lower and more vile.
"Multiple targets, my dear Executrix. Every single lady here for this awards ceremony has a price on her head from the 1000. I wouldn't recommend killing them all at once, though."
By now the woman who had been Lois Lane had taken all the weapons from the bag that had seemed to bulge and be heavier than she'd expected and pulled out her red costume. She made quick work of removing her black dress shoes with their four-inch heels and the shimmering black gown, putting each into the closet. Then she peeled off her taupe pantyhose and removed her bra, leaving her appropriately minimal pink panties as the only clothing on her body. She picked up the catsuit and sat on the edge of the bed to slide her legs into the shiny red latex, then pulled the sleeveless top up over her chest and tied it off behind her neck. She laced the fully seven-inch stiletto heeled thigh high red leather boots with white edging along the top and down the front tightly to her legs, putting her almost on her toes, then pulled the fingerless red leather gloves up past her elbows. The diamond encrusted wide bracelets were then attached to her wrists. Executrix then went to the mirror in the bathroom to make some careful changes to her eyes and cheeks with makeup, not even noticing as she walked not only with smooth, feline grace but also a very sexy sway in her ultra high heels thanks to the increase in her agility and bearing given by Psimon. This done, she pulled the long red wig on over her black hair. She took the waist length red hair and wound it up on top of her head, then secured it with another diamond encrusted band to match the bracelets. Then she placed the red domino mask over her eyes and pulled the elastic band back over her head. Satisfied with her now totally different and incredibly evil look, she didn't even notice that she was still wearing the same earrings she'd been wearing all evening.
She walked back out and pulled the two weapons belts on over her hips, then Executrix secured the shoulder strap over her left shoulder. To these were added her weapons of choice for the evening, an automatic pistol, a foot long dagger, and her laser sighted sniper rifle that fired state of the art energy bolts, not traditional bullets. "Okay, Psimon. I'm ready to rock. I don't want to have to turn back into Lois anytime soon. In fact, how about finding some chick we can make look like Lois that I can knock off, then I won't have to worry about my soft sister ever again."
"Good idea, Executrix. I'll see if I can arrange that for you. Good hunting, my dear!" Then, as suddenly as he'd appeared, Psimon disappeared from the room.
Executrix grinned wickedly, then turned off the light and left the room, careful to avoid any attention.
The famous women mingled and joked and fawned and sneered as the evening passed, nobody even noticing the lack of Lois Lane, and then as many of them made their way back and forth in and out of the ballroom, a very differently garbed woman appeared.
Outside the ballroom, a lithe woman in a tight red latex costume and thigh high, incredibly high heeled boots and opera length gloves waited in the shadows.
'Executrix will collect a nice sum for blowing all these busybodies away! The 1000 will pay me well to end the careers of snoops like Vicki Vale and Lana Lang!' she thought. 'Heh! And I bet they'll give me a fortune for killing Lois Lane. I can't wait...'
Before she could raise the multiple weapons that were strapped to her back or hips, Executrix heard a sound and whirled around in a battle stance, her dagger bared.
'Nothing! I must be getting nerves!' she thought as she returned to her previous position.
Above her in the shadows of a stairwell, another woman with red hair watched the crowd in silence. She wore a daring red gown and fingered something soft and black in her clinched fists.
* * * * *
Moments later, Lana Lang had gone back to her room and placed the entrancing piece of black cloth on the dresser. She was alone on a terrace in a bit of uncharacteristic melancholy. She had long ago given up on a romance with Superman even though she had been linked to him during their teen days in Smallville. She had moved on to a romance with fellow Smallville native Clark Kent, but that too had ended rather suddenly without much of a closure. Between those romantic idylls she had fallen for another hero from space, but the noble Vartox had been a truly tragic figure doomed to lose more than one planet and more than one lover until he had settled on Earth and married the fiery alien Maxima.
Lana had hardly been sitting home alone since then, but she was alone now, and she longed for some romantic companionship.
She was pouting rather prettily when a glint off something silvery caught her eyes. The pretty redhead turned and a second later a bolt of energy sliced by her ear. She dropped to the floor and waited, but nothing else happened.
She stood up and made her way across the terrace to an adjoining terrace where the fired beam had likely originated.
She was a reporter with experience and courage and a powerful need to know! She soon realized that there was no sign of her attacker. Then, as she glanced around the narrow terrace, she saw a shiny bead.
Lana picked it up and frowned as her keen mind recognized it. The decorative bead had to have fallen off one of the earrings worn by her friend, Lois Lane.
"What would Lois have been doing out here?" she mused as she returned inside and felt a chill wind sweep across the empty terrace. Something drew Lana to pick up the piece of black cloth she'd found earlier. Moments later, Lana's room was once again empty.
In an alley nearby, the red costumed Executrix removed her mask and a flowing red wig to expose dark black hair in disgust.
"I'll get her next time! That's a promise! I'd have had her if that bitch's reflexes weren't so damned good," she said. Still pissed, she found a car window in which she could see her reflection and placed the red wig back onto her head, followed by her mask. She couldn't let anyone see her in her costume but with the face and hair of Lois Lane showing. After doing some more scouting and catching some hoped for targets of opportunity, she planned to go back to the room and catch a quick catnap, then get back to work the next morning.
Twice while scouting for targets, Executrix caught brief glimpses of a quickly moving black and red garbed, very feminine figure with a black hood covering her head. Since she had no idea if this was a friend or foe, Executrix just observed and avoided the newcomer.
The next morning Lana Lang knocked on Lois Lane's door and tried to find the best way to approach her friend.
"I can only assume Lois may be onto some big scoop. She has been acting oddly and my efforts to find her last night failed completely. She wasn't in her room at all last night from what I gathered from questioning the maid!" mused Lana.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the pretty dark haired reporter opened her door and, hiding her new deep seated hatred for the redhead who had once been her good friend said, "Hi, Lana. You seem to be up and ready to go this morning! I thought you always took time for extra beauty sleep?"
Lois clutched a pink, floor length robe to her chest and listened intently as Lana replied, hoping her increased height wouldn't be too obvious.
"What about you, Lois?" Lana asked. "I figured you'd be sound asleep after the night you must have had! And your hair looks like hell!"
Lois frowned and said, "Sleeping on that do did a number on it. A good wash and set will fix that. And I slept like a log last night. I guess I was dead to the world. If you came by I must have snored right through your knocks!"
"Sorry, pet. My mistake. I was a bit concerned about you after the sniper took a shot at me last night!"
Lois nodded and, trying to seem surprised said, "Sniper? I didn't know! No wonder you were trying to find me! We've both made plenty of enemies through our work!"
"Some nutcase tried to kill me with a high tech energy rifle. I actually thought you might have noticed something. I found a bead from your earrings near the most likely spot used by the shooter!"
"That's impossible," Lois replied, hedging. "I turned in early. Oh, wait, I was walking around outside for a bit of air earlier. I guess I lost a bead or two!"
They separated as Lois promised to meet Lana later for lunch.
Lois sneered, then closed her door and dropped her robe to reveal the figure molding costume of red latex and stiletto heeled, sexy looking thigh high red boots with white trim. "Damn, I was just about ready to get back on my mission when you knocked on my door. Lana, it's a damned good thing I was able to get my gloves and wig off and throw on that robe before answering the door. Too bad I have to lie to you as a friend when you're actually a prime target, but I have a higher calling now. Doing my evil work for the Fearsome Five and the 1000 takes a priority over appeasing your need to know!" she said with a wicked grin as she put her red wig back on, followed by her mask and gloves. As soon as her weapons were loaded to the straps, Executrix was out the door.
Meanwhile, Lana went directly back to her own room after leaving Lois. Just as the night before, something was drawing her to the mystical piece of black cloth.
* * * * *
Later, as Tawny Young jogged outside the hotel she heard a noise and then gasped in shock as something struck her from the side.
She fell flat and clutched her side in pain.
Before anyone could rush to her aid, the red costumed Executrix dropped down from a rope and aimed her laser rifle at the prone figure. "Consider this an honor, Miss Young, you'll be the first of your group to die at my hands!"
Before she could pull her trigger, an agile figure darted forward and kicked the gun out of her hands with a dazzling display of speed and skill. She flipped backward and landed perfectly as she grabbed for a small throwing sai!
"Who in the?" Executrix muttered.
She gasped as the woman in black and red with a black hood she'd noted the night before connected with a rapid series of blows unlike any she had ever experienced. "I'm a master of every known form of martial art! What kind of fighting is this?" she hissed as she wiped her bleeding lips and circled the hooded woman.
The woman in the black hood made no reply except to kick out again and narrowly missed the assassin.
Cat Grant suddenly turned the corner to witness the fight and she realized something the hitwoman could not know. 'Klurkor! That hooded heroine is using Kryptonian martial arts!' she thought.
Before the battle could continue, a burly, balding red haired man came into view and dropped the wine bottle he had been swigging.
"The Black Hood! I must have lost it! Can't believe it works even here!" he said.
The woman in the hood turned for a moment and in that instant Executrix connected with the blunt end of a hastily recovered rifle.
The hooded woman dropped to the ground as her attacker cursed and raced away. "Too many witnesses!" muttered the red haired hitwoman.
Cat raced forward to bend over the fallen woman in black and red. "Are you badly hurt? Let me help you!"
The drunken man with the red beard said, "She don't need no help, Baby. The Hood will fix her up. It's magic!"
Sure enough, the fallen woman sat up slowly as Cat impulsively removed the black silk hood to reveal the features of Lana Lang!
"Lana! I knew it had to be either you or Lois under that rather tacky hood. No one else knows Klurkor like you two do!" she said. Executrix hadn't recognized what Lana was doing because when Psimon reworked the mind of Lois Lane, skills peculiar to Lois herself were hidden deep in her mind so as to make sure Executrix didn't do anything which could give away her true identity.
Lana nodded as her hand reached out for the hood, but her movement was too slow and the man pulled it free of Cat's grasp first.
"I found that hood as a small swatch of cloth last night," Lana said. "A bit later I got back to my room and felt some urge to pick up the piece of cloth. It turned into a hood and a form fitting red and black costume. I put it on by impulse, and something took control of me. It urged me to do only good and it enhanced all my abilities! I became some type of super heroine! I was prowling the streets in search of crime to fight last night. After checking on Lois this morning, I felt an urge to put on the hood once again, and it seems like the timing was just right to stop that assassin from killing Tawny. It's been a while since I was last in a costume, as Insect Queen-"
"Tawny is hurt badly," Cat interrupted. "We'd better summon medical help and take your story inside!"
The big man said, "I can explain it. It's not a pretty story. It's one I call 'Tell Me How Your World Died'!"
* * * * *
Later, as Lois and Lana sat across from the burly man in a hospital waiting room, he ran a hand across his face and gathered his thoughts.
Lois now wore a skirt, heels, and a blouse since she had changed out of the red wig and costume earlier, then gone to Lana as she waited for the ambulance to pick up the wounded Tawny Young. Lana had also gone back to her own room to change out of the costume she was wearing, and filled in Lois about all that the man had told Cat and herself earlier as they'd waited.
"You said your world died. Yet, you seem so human. What planet are you from?" asked Lois.
"That's just it, lady!" the balding man replied. "I come from good ole Mama Earth! Or should I say I'm from one of a couple dozen Earths. Alternate Earths, as my egghead buddies call them, used to exist before most of `em died!"
"You come from an Earth that was destroyed in the Crisis!" Lana blurted.
"Crisis?" he asked. "I guess you could call it that! I call it murder, `cause plain and simple - like, Earth was murdered by a group of madmen!"
"Who are you?" Lois asked, acting as she would have in the past. "Start from the beginning!"
"Okay, lady, you got it. My name is Len Rothko. During my days with a certain biker gang I acquired the nickname Big Daddy. I guess you don't have to be so formal, though. You can just call me the only survivor of planet Earth!"
"Are you some type of super hero?" Lana asked.
He grinned and said, "Me? Oh, yeah! I'm a real Doc. Strong! Too bad, I was not a cape and mask type. Maybe I could have done more than watch my friends and my world die!
"On my Earth I belonged to a law enforcement agency called the WEB. We fought the good fight with armored battle suits and certain modifications to our bodies. Those little tricks didn't help any when what you so deftly called the Crisis hit!
"You see, first the skies turned red. They were as bright red as what is left of my hair! Then, we started having weird time warp moments. Dinosaurs roamed through the cities and space men fired blasters at bewildered cowboys! It was a real trip as my pal the Sunshine Kid might have said! Then, while we good guy types were trying to find the reason for the chaos, a group of killers banded together and very neatly wiped out every hero on my world before finishing the job by destroying Earth!"
He added, "You've got to understand that while the WEB Agency tried to find solutions to the weirdness, a band of punks broke out of jail. The strongest prison on our world was run by a guy named Weatherbee and yet his technology spelled his doom. You see, that's how it really started. Some inhuman creeps with more of the machine than the man about them, got together and took over the jail. They freed the inmates and organized them with military precision. That's cause their leader was an ex-soldier! A power mad renegade with a hatred for one good guy recruited a bunch of cyborg killers and used them and other super creeps to hunt down all the heroes!"
Big Daddy sighed and said, "You ever heard of a place called Los Arenas, Nevada? On our Earth it is...it was the gambling center of the U.S.A. Well, there's a real irony in the fact that in that place a hero called Blackjack finally ran clear out of luck! He was a strong, agile, cocky do gooder in a colorful costume and a mask. We never did figure out who was behind that mask but we knew he was one of us in spirit.
"Well, he suited up like we all did when the red skies started. He figured he could punch a few heads and kick in some teeth and made wise and save the planet. That was the way those missions had always gone before. Why was this one so unlike anything we ever faced before? Maybe, it was cause this time we were being hunted down by an evil group who didn't care none about ending the world if they could take us down first!
"Blackjack darted across the neon signs over Los Arenas and he figured he could solve the mess and still catch Dino at the Sands by midnight. Well, he was wrong. He was dead wrong.
"Blackjack didn't go out in a blaze of glory. Blackjack didn't throw one punch or make one quip. He just stepped out on a roof and a gold costumed freak named Volt came up behind him and electrocuted him right there on the stop. Yeah, Blackjack's corpse lit up the night sky and then he was dead!"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Lana said, while Lois just nodded.
Big Daddy looked at the girl reporter with world weary eyes and he said, "Honey, the story gets worse from that point on!"
* * * * *
Earlier, in Boston, Gotham City's Olivia Ortega had returned to her room in the hotel to change clothes after lunch. As she went to her closet wearing only her bra, panties and pantyhose, she was shocked to see a strange looking man with a huge brain encased in clear plastic and wearing red robes suddenly appear in front of her. "Dios- Who the hell are you?"
"I am called Psimon, my dear. I have need of you, or rather of your body. First, let's get rid of that Hispanic accent, shall we?"
"What do you me-" Olivia started to say, but halted when she heard a foreign yet still somehow familiar Caucasian voice coming from her lips. "What have you done to me?" she finally asked.
"Your voice is only the start, Ms. Ortega. A new ally of mine has been instructed to kill all the female journalists at this awards ceremony. As things stand right now, there is no way for her to kill Lois Lane. I'm going to fix that problem right now. If you didn't recognize the voice you now own, get used to it. You are no longer Olivia Ortega, you are Lois Lane."
Olivia's last thought was the shock of hearing what Psimon told her, but in a flash her memories of being a journalist from Gotham City were superseded by those of the well known journalist from Metropolis. Her body was changed in a flash to be a duplicate of Lois Lane. As soon as the new Lois realized who she was, Psimon also altered all the clothes in the room to match those in the actual Lois's room, along with making all the identification and credit cards and such in her purse become those of Lois Lane. His work completed, Psimon disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving the new Lois Lane with no recollection of his being there.
Lois proceeded to get dressed, ready to mix and mingle once again that afternoon. She was looking forward to seeing her friend Lana.
* * * * *
Not long after the original Lois Lane left the discussion and story telling outside Tawny's room, she made her way back to her room. Cursing all the while that she'd had to restrain herself in the presence of Lana Lang, Tawny Young and Cat Grant, she stripped out of her Lois Lane garb with great speed.
Psimon appeared before her and said, "There is now a Lois Lane here in the hotel for you to kill, Executrix. Unfortunately, Olivia Ortega is no longer a viable target, but as Lois she does have a much higher value. Also, since all of the IDs in her room now say Lois Lane, all of yours now say Lia Long. Your wardrobe is now changed completely from what you'd brought with you, since the new Lois has it. I think you'll enjoy the new look. Once you've killed the new Lois Lane, we can put together your new life as Lia with a totally new face and body to really put your new clothes to use. Here are some more goodies to add to your arsenal. I'd suggest you take your entire weapons collection with you if you decide to use them. Bang, bang, YOU'RE dead. Or at least, your identity as Lois. Later, my dear."
Psimon did another of his disappearing acts, with Executrix wondering just where he went each time. She donned her red costume and slipped the wig back in place before she examined some round objects with hard metal casings. "These bombs will take down the hotel and all the news women, too."
She set certain adjustments on the spheres and then swiftly exited from her upper story window, loaded for bear with all her weapons. She had all but her energy rifle and dagger in the soft bag, which she quickly lowered to a hidden spot in the alley below.
Before she could depart from the huge building a wild maniacal laugh echoed above her and she glanced upward to see a weird, nightmarish figure with green hair, yellow coloration, and a furry red vest-like garment.
"Even a pretty mortal who has no fear of heights should learn to beware the Creeper!" he said as he cackled madly.
She cursed and whirled around to target the wildly capering figure as he darted from side to side. "I don't have time for this! I never knew Boston was so full of super heroes!" she said.
She fired her energy rifle again and again, but the Creeper merely flipped out of her range and disappeared in the shadows.
She jumped off the roof and used her own impressive agility to turn her fall into a series of artfully executed rolls until she landed perfectly below.
She glanced up at the roof and saw nothing.
"I can't worry about that grinning goon. I'll blow that freak to kingdom come with all the ladies!" she said as she activated the bombs via remote control.
Seconds later, to her horror she saw the spheres sailing out of the hotel directly at her from above!
Before she could escape they struck her and she gasped as nothing else occurred!
Loud laughter rang out and she saw the Creeper jump down to a spot directly in front of her. "I thought you were the kind of woman who enjoyed making things explode! Yet, you seemed as skittish as a farm girl in the big city!" he said in a mocking tone.
"You deactivated them! You must have been watching me the whole time I was in my room!" she screamed.
He grinned and said, "Oh, the Creeper sees all, and you and Psimon put on a good show! I couldn't hear what was being said, but I saw it all."
Executrix punched him in the face but he shrugged off her blow as she was reaching for her dagger.
"Ah, ah, no pointy objects!" the Creeper objected. "You could poke your eye out with that!"
As his eyes fixated on the dagger, Executrix used her other hand to bring up the butt of her energy rifle. She rammed it against the side of his head, knocking him silly. The Creeper fell to ground at her feet in a heap.
"Can't stick around to finish this fool off," the assassin said as she looked furtively in all directions to see if their tussle had been observed. Seeing nobody, she made her way to the spot in the alley and picked up her weapons bag. On the way out, she spotted a strange looking piece of black cloth floating down from above to land before her feet.
"I wonder what this is?" Executrix said as she put down the weapons bag and reached for the swatch.
Incredibly, she watched as the piece of cloth morphed into what looked like a black hood. Feeling a compulsion she could not ignore, Executrix lifted the hood over her head. "Do only good! That shall be my creed!" she said as the magic of the hood overrode all the evil programming done by Psimon the night before. Its work done, the hood retracted itself instead of enclosing Lois in the red and black costume. She slipped the black cloth into one of the ammo pouches on her belt.
With full knowledge of what Psimon had done, Lois looked down at what she was wearing and said, "Pretty daring, but if I've been able to walk in these boots as Executrix, I guess I can do so as myself for the time being. First things first." She reached up and pulled first the mask and then the wig from her head. "Now, to get word to Superman and hopefully Zatanna."
Using the agility her body still seemed to possess, Lois made her way back up to her room from outside. She made her way to her purse, hoping the changes to Lia Long didn't eliminate the special whistle for reaching Superman. "Thank God, it's still here!"
Lois put the whistle to her lips and blew, making no perceptible sound but sending out a signal that not only would irritate many dogs but also bring the Man of Steel. Since she hoped the short distance between Boston and Metropolis would mean a very short trip for her heart's desire, Lois decided not to try and change clothes. She dreaded the thought of putting on any of the racy clothes Psimon had left for Lia, anyway.
Sure enough, Superman came flying through the window into her room only two minutes later. "Lois, what's the problem?" He made a point of looking up and down at Lois's latex clad body. "I spotted that red outfit you're wearing as soon as I checked you out while zooming into Boston. What's with the wicked looking costume?"
"I'll tell you more about what I'm wearing in just a bit, Superman. We have two problems that need to be taken care of quickly. The first priority right now is my twin in room 731. Psimon has turned Olivia Ortega from Gotham City into another Lois Lane, with all my memories and identification. Can you get hold of Zatanna or maybe Dr. Fate to try and change her back?"
"Psimon is behind this? I thought he was still locked up. Zatanna should be in the satellite right now. What's the second problem?"
"For the past eighteen hours or so, I was acting as the evil villainess Psimon turned me into. I hate to say it, but I am responsible for the near death of Tawny Young. She's recuperating in the hospital now, but my shot at her came close to being deadly. I hope we can find some way to get her out of danger quickly, and I must take responsibility for my actions legally."
Superman thought for a moment. "Hmm, I wonder if maybe Wonder Woman's Purple Ray can help Tawny any more than the hospital? And I wouldn't worry too much about facing any charges of attempted murder, Lois. I'm pretty sure we can make the courts realize you were not yourself when you tried to kill Tawny. We'll worry about that later. Let's take care of your new twin first."
The Man of Steel reached to his belt buckle and hit the communications button.
"What's up, Kal?" asked Black Canary, who was on the duty desk.
"Dinah, get Zatanna ASAP and tell her to use my homing signal to join myself and Lois in her room in Boston."
"Will do, Kal."
In what seemed like only a few seconds after Black Canary's signal, the beautiful black haired mage appeared before their eyes, dressed in her traditional tails and fishnets outfit. "What's the problem, Su-" Zatanna's voice caught as she saw the outfit Lois was wearing. "Can you really walk in those heels, Lois?"
"We need your magic, Za-"
"It's a bit of a story I owe to both you and Superman, Zatanna," Lois said, interrupting Kal. "And yes, I can not only walk in them but run, jump and do acrobatics-"
"That's got to wait, Lois," Superman interjected. "Zatanna, there's a young lady from Gotham City named Olivia Ortega in room 731 that got turned into a physical and mental twin of Lois by Psimon. I'm hoping your magic can give her back her original life."
"I know Olivia, Batman introduced me to her at a banquet last year. Presuming Psimon only overrode her original identity with Lois's and not totally erased it, I should be able to change her back. Let's go to her room, Lois. Kal, find Lois's twin wherever she is in the hotel and bring her there."
Zatanna and Lois made their way to the elevator and went down one floor, then proceeded to 731. "rooD kcolnu dna nepo," said the mystical maid. The door swung open, and the two ladies entered.
Not more than three minutes later, Superman walked in with another Lois Lane at his side. She stopped in her tracks when she spotted the original. "What's going on here? I'm Lois Lane, but who are you?"
"Actually, you aren't Lois Lane," the Man of Steel told her. "You've been tricked into thinking you're Lois. Zatanna?"
Zatanna turned to the real Lois. "I have a feeling what you're wearing has something to do with this. To make sure you don't revert to some other identity while I'm saying this spell, leave the room." Lois did as instructed, and went back out into the hallway and out of earshot.
"ytitnedI, sehtolc dna lla smrof fo noitacifitnedi trever. uoY era aivilO agetrO, ton sioL enaL. seiromeM of sioL raeppasid, gnivael ylno esoht fo aivilO. ydoB engahc ot s'aivilO," Zatanna uttered.
As hoped, nothing Psimon had done had completely erased Olivia from her mind. The form of the second Lois Lane shimmered briefly, then shifted to that of Olivia Ortega, while at the same time her wardrobe became once again hers and not that of Lois. "Madre Dios!" she exclaimed. "That was an experience I hope I never go through again. I'm happy to be in my own shoes, let Lois wear hers."
"Funny you should mention that, Olivia," Superman replied. Raising his voice, he said, "Lois, please come back in here now."
Olivia did a bit of a double take when she saw the costume Lois was wearing as she appeared in the doorway, then her jaw dropped when she spotted the seven-inch heels on the boots she was wearing. "Those are definitely shoes I would not want to have to wear!"
"Believe it or not, these killer heels feel perfectly normal to me, Olivia," Lois replied. "Last night, Psimon showed up in my room and gave me the identity of an evil assassin named Executrix. One of the side effects of that change is the increased agility I now have in my body..." Lois went on to explain to her small audience just what had occurred since her encounter with Psimon the night before, with more details of her near assassination of Tawny. "Then, by either chance or some divine intervention, the mystical black hood that Lana had found and transformed her into a superheroine who saved Tawny from me appeared before me a short time ago and overrode all the evil Psimon had planted in my head. Interestingly, I still have full knowledge of what I did as Executrix and apparently all of her abilities. I know the JLA has no need for any assassins or sharpshooters, but maybe my enhanced physical abilities can be put to use in some way."
"That's good, Lois," Superman said. "I think we might be able to use Executrix as a way to get to Psimon. That would also be a good way to legally make up for your attempted murder. Feel up to it?"
"Do I ever! I'd love to get that giant sized brain on top of his head in the sights of my energy rifle!"
"Whoa, easy, Lois," Zatanna said. "Don't let your Executrix persona get too strong, you might not have that hood around if you need it again."
"Yeah, we need you as a law abiding heroine, not a criminal villainess," Superman added.
"Oh, don't worry," Lois answered. "I have the body of Executrix, but I have the mind of Lois Lane. Now, to get back into some normal clothes so that I don't have to show off my body in this outfit anymore today."
"Okay, Lois," Superman replied. "Zatanna and I will check with Diana and see if there's anything she or the rest of the League can do to help Tawny recover. I'll be back as soon as we come up with anything."
Olivia was a bit in awe as she watched Superman walk over to the window and then disappear in an upward blur as he took off for the JLA satellite. That wasn't all. She heard, "ecnerefnoC moor, etilletas," and saw Zatanna blink out of sight. Then she looked at Lois.
"I presume we should not mention much if any of this to anyone at the awards ceremony, right?"
"For the time being, please," Lois said, nodding. "Before I let word out about what went on, I'll confer with both you and Lana to make sure we can all be together on the story. See you at dinner, Olivia."
Lois was a bit surprised when she got back to her room. She had forgotten that the 'normal clothes' she'd change into were not the ones she'd brought with her from Metropolis. After getting out of her red costume, she discovered just what Psimon had thought would be more appropriate for Lia Long. "So that pervert wants me to dress like a whore, does he?" she muttered. "More reasons for me to want to get that bastard in my sights." She hoped when Superman came back she could get him to have Zatanna change her clothes back like she did for Olivia. Well, some of the clothes, anyway. 'I think I could get to like some of Lia's outfits...'
Since the Man of Steel had not returned before the dinner and awards ceremony, Lois had by the far the raciest outfit worn by any of the attendees. The cleavage bared by the electric blue dress that hugged her body and had a hem halfway between her crotch and her knees made even Cat Grant seem tame. The matching blue shoes on her feet had heels not quite as high as those on her red costume boots, but since Psimon had provided her with shoes and boots with nothing less than five inches, Lois's legs were elevated and shaped very nicely. Without even realizing it, Lois also posed very seductively when the pics were taken during and after the awards. Later that night, Lois Lane packed her bags with all of her new clothes after accepting her award. Superman had come back and picked up Tawny to take her to Themyscira for treatment by the Amazons, but hadn't brought Zatanna back with him. She was going to be stuck with her new clothes for the time being. The really sexy clothes excited her now in ways that worried her a bit. Lois frowned as she pondered her recent actions while putting away the red costume. Superman had already taken all the weapons to Metropolis so they wouldn't go on another airliner. "I keep feeling this urge to walk in Executrix's heels and costume again," she mused. "Good thing that hood gave me back my regular life to live, even though all my IDs say I'm Lia Long. That reminds me, I wonder where that hood went? Weird as it sounds, I can't find it now!"
Down the hall in another room, another female journalist packed her own bags and smiled as she held up a silk hood.
"Do only good! That shall be my creed!" she said.
The End (for the time being)
Buckley placed a kicking and moaning Valerie down on the dinning room table, pushing her face down on the wooden surface. He was finally going to give her the punishment she deserved. Why couldn't Miss Miles be a normal girl, get married, and stay home? Why did she have to masquerade as a crime fighting vigilante because of some absurd sense of loyalty to her dead father? It was time someone taught her a lesson she would never forget. I should have done this a long time ago, Buckley thought. Miss Miles is getting much too cocky for her own good. Valerie's eyes were wide with fear and she shook her head, pleading with Buckley. That was all she could do with her hands and feet bound with duct tape. Adding to her frustration were the several layers of tape plastered across her mouth, reducing her protests to muffled grunts and pitiful moans. One look at Buckley's hardened expression confirmed that he was under the influence of something. No amount of pleading would stop him from doing whatever it was he had been ordered to do. Buckley exhaled and stared at his squirming captive with a sparkle in his eyes. "Don't go away, Miss Miles. I'll be right back." Valerie watched with mounting dread as Buckley disappeared into the kitchen. Her heart pounded and her head spun with fear, but she still had enough presence of mind to roll onto her back, swing her legs over the edge of the table, and sit up. She slid off the table and landed on the floor, swaying to keep her balance on her bound ankles. She controlled her breathing and stole a quick glance toward the kitchen. She heard Buckley rummaging through the drawers, obviously looking for something. She gathered her resolve and inched her way toward the living room, hopping and scooting on her bound legs. Her high heels made it difficult to move but her fear willed her on. She hopped and scooted to the living room entrance, but that's as far as she got. Buckley entered the dinning room from the kitchen. He had two coils of rope, a pair of scissors, and a riding crop. He spotted Valerie moving toward the living room and shook his head with mock reproach. He placed the items he carried on the table and casually walked toward Valerie. "Need some help, Miss Miles?" Valerie shook her head and tried to scoot away from Buckley. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back toward the dinning room table. He forced her to bend over the edge on the table so her kicking legs were down on the floor. Valerie grunted and struggled as Buckley held her down against the table by crushing her from behind with his body. The indecent position sent a surge of panic through Valerie and she sobbed with despair. She was being mauled and manhandled by a man who was like a father to her. That fact only multiplied her terror Buckley reached for one of the coils of rope and went about the task of anchoring Valerie to the table. The rope was long enough so he could wrap it twice over her squirming upper body and around the table. Valerie fought like a wildcat, thrashing about as she uttered muffled sobs. It took some effort, but Buckley finally tied off the rope under the table, anchoring Valerie face down on the table. Buckley reached for a second coil of rope and knelt behind Valerie. He grabbed her duct-taped ankles and wrapped the rope around her them, leaving two lengths of excess cord on each side. He then anchored the lengths of extra rope to the two table legs on each side Valerie. He stood and gazed down at the shapely and wiggling form of Miss Miles. Her round buttocks were taught against her skirt and swayed from side to sided in an inviting manner. Her long, shapely legs were completely immobilized and looked delicious in the seamed nylons with black high heeled pumps. Deep within his soul Buckley had always admired Valerie's physical beauty. He zeroed in on her backside, mesmerized by its swaying motion. SMACK! Buckley brought his open palm down on Valerie's firm buttocks. As expected, it was nice and tight. A perfect ass. He had always wanted to do that. Valerie's body spasmed as it received the blow. Her eyes expanded and she craned her head back toward Buckley. What was he doing? The last time she had been tied up this way she had been raped by Drake Turco. That recollection pushed her over the edge and the floodgates of panic came crashing down. She shook her head and screamed. This was not happening! Reluctantly, Buckley pulled his eyes away from Valerie's wiggling ass and stepped beside the table. He avoided her pleading eyes and reached for the scissors and riding crop on the table. Valerie swallowed nervously, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Her constant screaming and tugging had worn her out, reducing her to a helpless and gasping heap. She took small comfort in the fact that Buckley had been brained-washed and did not know what he was doing. She knew Buckley would never forgive himself if he hurt her. Their relationship would forever be tarnished. Buckley stood behind Valerie, holding the scissors in one hand and the riding crop in the other. Laura Adams had given him the riding crop as well as specific instructions on how and where to use it on Miss Miles. Laura had then whispered such beautiful things in his ear that Buckley would have done anything for her, including teaching Miss Miles some discipline and manners. He knelt before Valerie and made several cutting motions with the scissors before inserting the helm of the skirt between the blades. Zipzipzipzipzipzip . . . zip. Buckley moved the scissors up along Valerie's legs, slicing through the material of the skirt with relative ease. Valerie squirmed and unleashed a string of muffled protests. Buckley paid her no attention whatsoever. Zipzipzipzip . . . zip . . . zip . . . zipzipzipzipzip . . . zip. Buckley finished cutting a large and oval-shaped piece of fabric from Valerie's skirt. Most of the material covering her backside and legs was now gone, leaving her panty-covered ass exposed. The pink, frilly garters holding up her seamed stockings offered quite a tempting view. Buckley debated whether to cut the garters off or leave them intact. He opted for the latter. He had always been fascinated by that particular article of women's underwear. Valerie felt the draft on her rear and gasped with dread, realizing her backside was now completely exposed to Buckley's prying eyes. She blushed with embarrassment, but that was quickly replaced by panic when she realized what Buckley was about to do with the riding crop. Buckley hooked his finger around one of Valerie's garters at the back of her thighs. He pulled on the elastic strap as if it were the string on a bow. He suddenly released the garter, striking her bare thigh with a loud pop. The provocative and "intimate" action riled up Valerie even more and she responded with a heroic squirming session. *** Detective Morales pulled up in front of the two story Victorian mansion. Tolec, the Indian man, sat next to him in the front seat of the car. Morales had heard about the exploits of The Black Fox the previous night but something did not feel right. Even though he didn't know Valerie Miles all that well he had a hard time believing she could kill innocent people in cold blood. The Black Fox was a crime fighter and not a killer. He was determined to get some answers. Morales was about to open the car door when Tolec suddenly gasped and tensed. "What's wrong?" Morales asked. "Bad presence," Tolec said, turning toward the house. "She's in danger!" "Who? Valerie?" Tolec nodded. "We must help her." Morales threw open his door and raced toward the house. ***
Buckley stood behind Valerie, tapping the riding crop on his hand as he watched the shapely ass wiggle before him.Valerie's breathing was erratic and laced with fear. Her eyes were closed, bracing for the pain that would soon be inflicted on her rear. She whimpered through the tape over her mouth, finally accepting her fate. "I'm sorry, Miss Miles," Buckley said with phony sincerity, "but this is going to hurt you a lot more than it will me." He measured Valerie's buttocks. "You've been a very naughty girl and you must be punished." Buckley brought the riding crop back, ready to deliver the first blow. He suddenly gasped and let out a loud grunt as his head throbbed with pain. Something buried deep within his soul told him this was wrong. A moment of clarity seized him and he came to his senses. He stared at Miss Miles, sprawled out on the table before him. What the hell was he doing? The pain went away and he shook his head. He exhaled and once again focused on the shapely ass before him. He had to punish Miss Miles for being a bad girl. He had to teach her a lesson for being Black Fox. With a determined expression, Buckley brought the riding crop back and . . . CRASH! Buckley snapped his head toward a loud noise in the living room. Valerie lifted her head and heard approaching footsteps. She screamed through her gag, determined to attract attention. Buckley stepped toward the entrance of the living room. He spotted two men darting in his direction. One of the men looked familiar but he didn't recognize the other. Still, they were interfering with his discipline session and he had to stop them. Morales spotted Buckley and relaxed his guard. "Hey, what . . . " Buckley suddenly delivered a right-hand cross that connected with Morales' chin. The blow sent the detective staggering and he hit the floor on his back. Tolec was right behind Morales and Buckley charged at the Indian man. He swung the riding crop at Tolec but he was ready for his attack and ducked. Tolec countered with a punch to Buckley's ribs. Buckley doubled over but recovered quickly. He brought the riding crop down at Tolec, but the Indian man sidestepped the blow and darted behind Buckley, wrapping his arms around him. Morales had recovered from Buckley's punch and darted toward Tolec as he wrestled with Buckley. The detective returned the favor by delivering his own right cross to Buckley's face. The punch snapped Buckley's face to the side and knocked him out cold. Buckley's body went limp and the Indian man placed him down gently on the floor. "What the hell is going on here?" Morales asked, staring at Buckley. Morales and Tolec heard muffled grunts and moaning coming from the dinning room. Morales made his way to the entrance of the dinning room. He stopped cold when he saw Valerie Miles tied down on the table. She was gagged with duct tape and her eyes were desperate. Morales grabbed his throbbing jaw, which still stung with pain, and exhaled. *** Valerie entered Buckley's bedroom, fully dressed in an elegant skirt with a matching jacket. Her embarrassment of being found bound and vulnerable by Morales still lingered, but he had saved her from Buckley. That's all that mattered. Buckley lay on his bed, still unconscious. Morales and Tolec had carried him to his room and the two men stood over the bed, engaged in a discussion in Spanish. They heard Valerie approach and turned toward her. Her immediate concern was Buckley. "How is he?" "He is under a spell," Tolec said. The fact that he spoke English surprised Valerie. "He tried to hurt me. He would never do that." "Tolec will try and help him," Morales said. Without saying another word, Tolec walked past Valerie and Morales and headed toward the bedroom door. Valerie turned toward the Indian man. "Wait." Tolec stopped and turned. "Who are you?" she asked. "A man who does not belong here," Tolec replied evenly. "But I must be here." It was not the answer Valerie wanted, but that was probably all she would get out of him. "Thank you for helping me." Tolec nodded and turned, exiting the room. "He doesn't say much does he?" "He speaks with his actions," Morales said. Valerie once again shifted her attention back to Buckley. "This is all the Jaguar's doing. He did this to him." "This Jaguar seems to have a fascination with you," Morales said. "Why is that?" Valerie closed her eyes and sighed. She did not face Morales, but kept her attention on Buckley. "I think you know part of the answer," she said softly. A brief silence followed and then Morales spoke. "You're the Black Fox." Valerie knew Morales was on to her and simply wanted confirmation from him. "How long have you known?" "Since early this morning," Morales replied. "Tolec told me." "Is there anything he doesn't know?" Morales suppressed a smile. "I don't think so." The bedroom door opened and Tolec entered. He carried a small leather pouch with him and stood over Buckley. "This will break the spell. I must be alone. Leave us." Morales nodded. "Do your thing." ***
Morales and Valerie stood in the underground room that acted as her secret headquarters where she launched her Black Fox missions. Morales was impressed by the whole thing. Valerie Miles was actually a resilient and competent young woman. He listened with fascination as Valerie revealed everything from her father's formula to Garrick Catlett's plan of revenge against her. She finished with her encounter with Catlett in her bedroom, leaving out the more graphic details. All the pieces suddenly fell into place and Morales realized that he was part of something bigger than he could have imagined. "So I take it this . . . Catlett is setting you up by working with a Black Fox imposter," Morales said, still absorbing all the information Valerie had given him. "That would explain the murders last night." Valerie nodded. "He wants to ruin every aspect of my life. That's why he came after Buckley." Morales shook his head. "This guy is one crazy son of a bitch." He stared at Valerie, feeling sympathy for her plight. "The key to stopping this Catlett or . . . Jaguar is taking away that medallion he has. If we do that, he'll lose his powers." Valerie shook her head. "I don't stand a chance against him. I've seen what he can do." "Not by yourself," said Morales, leaning against the desk in the room. "That's why we're here. Tolec and me." Valerie studied the young detective. She suddenly recalled Joseph Pike, the detective who helped her defeat Drake Turco two years before. It had cost Pike his life and Valerie did not want to repeat that with Morales. "Detective Morales . . . " "Call me Marco." Valerie and Morales shared a brief look of admiration. Valerie broke eye contact, feeling herself blush. "The last detective who helped me . . . " "Joseph Pike," Morales said. "May he rest in peace. I know all about that. I read the report when I replaced him." Morales exhaled and and looked away. "Ever since my wife and son were killed by a drunk driver five years ago, my life has been hell. I've hit the booze pretty hard. I've been angry at the world. Angry at God, if there is a god. The fact is, I don't believe in anything anymore. And then this happens. It's like I've been given a chance at redemption. I have the chance to make a difference. I can't walk away from this now. In a strange way, it's the only thing keeping me from giving up." He once again faced Valerie. "Besides, you don't think I'm going to let you do this alone, do you?" Valerie stared at Morales, fully understanding his pain. It seemed they had much in common. He reminded him of another man from her past, Jose Hernandez. "What are we going to do, Marco? I'm . . . scared." It was the first time in her life she had admitted her fear to anyone besides Buckley, but somehow it seemed right for the moment. Morales and Valerie shared another look of understanding. This time, Valerie did not break eye contact with the young detective. Morales finally said, "I don't know, Valerie, but we'll win. I promise." His tone and words were a welcomed relief and Valerie suddenly felt much better. Perhaps it was the fact that she was no longer alone in her fight against Catlett, or maybe it was the presence of the young detective who had just bared his soul to her. Whatever the reason, she felt safe and confident again. She was also intrigued by Marco Morales. ***
Valerie entered the room cautiously and closed the door. Buckley lay on the bed, still groggy from the effects of the antidote Tolec had given him. She flashed a weak smile and attempted to make eye contact with Buckley, but he looked away in shame. Valerie stood at the foot of the bed, giving her friend enough space to make him feel more at ease. She understood his guilt and decided to keep her distance. "How you feeling, Buckley?" Buckley exhaled, still unable to meet Valerie's gaze. "I'm so sorry, Miss Miles. I don't know what came over me. It's like. . ." He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't explain it." "It's not your fault Buckley," Valerie said. "Catlett gave you a dose of that mind drug he's threatening to use on the city. You were basically brainwashed." Buckley did not feel any better. "He's gone too far, Miss Miles. We must stop him right now. He's going to pay for this. He's going to pay for everything! I swear it!" Valerie had never seen Buckley this emotional but she understood his rage. "Don't let your emotion dictate your actions, Buckley. You're better than that. We'll stop Catlett, but I don't want to hear any more revenge talk." Buckley exhaled and controlled his anger. "Laura Adams is working with him. She came by after you left. She's the one that made me . . . She told me to hurt you." Valerie nodded, suddenly deducing that Laura Adams was probably the fake Black Fox responsible for the killings the previous night. She also felt sorry for Buckley. He really liked this Laura Adams and now it was revealed she was working with Catlett. Valerie felt a touch of guilt. She had, after all, dragged Buckley to Betty Hunter's birthday party. If she had not done that . . . She sighed inwardly. She knew all this second guessing was pointless. It did not help in stopping Catlett. ***
Valerie, Morales, Buckley, and Tolec sat around the living room, discussing a course action against Catlett. Morales feasted on sandwiches and coffee. Buckley had fully recovered from the effects of the substance that had possessed him and he appeared to be his old self again. "We need to find Catlett's hideout," Morales said. "Our first priority is getting our hands on this chemical he has. Everything else can wait." He turned to Tolec. "Is there any way you can find out where he is?" The Indian man nodded. "I will try, but the power of the medallion is great. Much greater than me." "Do whatever you can," Morales said. He turned to Valerie. "Are you--" The phone rang. Everyone tensed. Valerie stood from the couch and stood over the phone. She picked it up after the third ring. "Yes?" "Hello, Valerie?" Catlett said in a soft almost gentle voice. "I see you've survived Buckley's little surprise. I hope he's all right? How's your bottom?" Valerie resisted the urge to curse at Catlett. "What do you want?" Catlett chuckled. "The question is . . . where? I want you to be at the Seven Seas Restaurant in exactly one hour. Bring the formula with you. Oh, and wear something flattering. Come alone, or the deal is off." Before Valerie could add anything more, she heard a loud click as Catlett hung up the phone. She placed the phone down but did not face the three men around her. "That was Catlett. He wants me to be at the Seven Seas Restaurant in one hour with my father's formula." "Kind of public, don't you think?" Morales said. Valerie sighed. "He's taunting me again. I've had dinner there several times with David Dulac." "You can't go alone, Miss Miles." Buckley said. "I won't let you." "She's not going alone," Morales said. "Tolec and me will be there." "He said to come alone or the deal is off," Valerie said. "I think maybe I should go alone." "Out of the question!" said Buckley. He turned to Morales. "I want to come along too." Morales shook his head. "Three's already a crowd. We can handle it." "Well, that's just great. What do you want me to do?" Buckley asked. "Sit around and twirl my thumbs?" The edge in Buckley's tone surprised Valerie, but she knew Morales was right. "It's all right, Buckley. We can handle it. Please wait here." Buckley was not convinced. "Miss Miles, are you actually going to give him your father's formula?" Valerie sighed but remained silent. ***
The Seven Seas Restaurant was located near the bay area of the city. It was a romantic hotspot for would-be couples and boasted the best sea food in San Francisco. Valerie entered the restaurant, dressed in an elegant form fitting beige jacket and matching skirt. She carried a black leather case that contained her father's formula. The lighting was dim and there was no sign of Garrick Catlett. The entire restaurant was eerily empty. A well-dressed man greeted Valerie. "May I help you, Miss?" Valerie looked past the man, once again scanning empty restaurant. "I'm meeting . . . someone." "Ah, yes," the man said. "Your guest is waiting, Miss Miles. This way please." Valerie hesitated, wondering how this man knew her name. She immediately had bad vibes. With a heavy heart, Valerie followed the man toward a corner of the restaurant. She suddenly spotted Garrick Catlett, sitting at a table next to a widow overlooking the ocean. It was the same table she and David Dulac usually requested. Her heart rate quickened and a wave of fear swept over her when Catlett made eye contact with her. She suddenly had the urge to turn and run from the place. Catlett stood as Valerie approached. He was dressed in a black dinner jacket and well groomed, but that did not mask the sinister look in his eyes. "Valerie, nice to see again," he said, giving her a quick lookover. He flashed a smile. "You look amazing." Valerie did not acknowledge the compliment and remained silent, glaring at Catlett. The host graciously pulled out a chair for Valerie. She sat down, never taking her eyes off Catlett. The mere presence of him made her skin crawl with disgust. Fear and dread dominated her emotions, but her beautiful face betrayed only contempt. Catlett disregarded Valerie's piercing eyes and addressed the host. "Bring us your best bottle of wine please." The host nodded and left, leaving Valerie and Catlett alone. Morales and Tolec were nearby, looking out for her, but that did not alleviate her sense of foreboding. The entire situation was surreal and unsettling. Catlett motioned with his hand. "In the interest of privacy, I rented the entire restaurant for the night. We don't need to worry about being disturbed." That statement made Valerie even more nervous. She placed the leather briefcase on the table. "Here's the formula." Her voice was sharp and laced with anger. "It's all yours." Catlett chuckled. "Slow down, Valerie. There are some things we have to discuss." "There's nothing we have to discuss," Valerie said harshly. "I think there is." Catlett scanned the restaurant. "You're a smart girl. I know you didn't come alone, but I'm willing to let it go. I have a proposition for you, Valerie." Valerie swallowed, fighting the urge to reach across the table and strangle Catlett. "I don't want to hear it. I'm going to stop you," she said firmly. "I'll never forget what you did to Buckley. What you did to me! Never!" "You don't strike me as the type of girl who holds a grudge." "What the hell do you want?" Valerie asked, attempting to end the meeting as soon as possible. "You have my father's formula and the chemical. You've humiliated me. You've won. What else do you want?" He stared into Valerie's eyes, unsettling her. "There's one last thing I need to consolidate my victory." A long pause followed before he spoke again. "I want you, Valerie." Valerie felt her stomach turn. She jumped when she felt Catlett's foot stroking her leg under the table. Her eyes blazed with anger and she recoiled with disgust as she kicked away his foot. Catlett laughed. Valerie started to rise. "This meeting is over." "I think not," Catlett said calmly. "You leave now and I'll unleash the chemical into the city within fifteen minutes. As you know, I'm not working alone. Now, please, sit down and let's have a pleasant conversation." Against her better judgement, Valerie sat back down. Her eyes burned with intensity. Perhaps there was some way she could trick Catlett into revealing the location of the H.C. 66 chemical. The host returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He noticed Valerie's stoic face as he filled the two glasses with the red wine. "Would you like to order now?" Catlett gave the man a strange gaze. "I think we're ready. Bring us today's special." The man nodded and departed. Catlett focused on Valerie. "You're going to love the special. I hope you're hungry." Valerie remained silent. There was something disturbing in Catlett's tone. "I find you a most fascinating woman, Valerie," Catlett resumed. "You're tough and brave, not to mention attractive. Any lesser woman would not be here now. You have tremendous spirit and drive. I find that very appealing." He regarded Valerie briefly, allowing his compliments to sink in. Valerie was not impressed by his words. Catlett continued. "I want to help you, Valerie. I'm willing to forget all about my revenge and the chemical. That's all in the past. We can revolutionize the world with your father's formula. This formula is bigger than you or me. You know that. You've always known that. That's why you've kept it a secret. Together, we can change the world . . . for the better. Think of the implications, Valerie. This could be a vital step in helping humanity take the next step in technology. I want to help and mentor you in mass marketing and producing your father's great invention. Ever since I laid eyes on you, Valerie, you've captured my imagination. You're the woman for me. What do you say?" Valerie was stunned. She could not believe what Catlett was saying. Her chaotic world had now been turned upside down. She was literally trembling. She gathered her thoughts and spoke in a deliberate tone. "You . . . are out of your mind for having the nerve to say that! I would rather die than to be . . . than to be associated with you in any way. That's my answer." Catlett's face deflated upon hearing Valerie's reply. He turned away and exhaled. "Sorry to hear that." He suddenly turned, staring off to the side. "But I came prepared. Behold: Today's special." Valerie also turned. She uttered a startled gasp when she took in the sight before her. A heavy set thug approached the table with the "special": Betty Hunter! The girl looked scared and had been crying. Her arms were tied behind her back at the wrists and elbows with white cord. More rope was lashed around her upper body, framing her small but firm breasts. A large red ball was stuffed in her mouth and secured around her head with a leather strap. The ball-gag was too big for the girl's mouth and the strain of having to part her jaws around the insidious object was clearly visible on her face. Drool dripped from her bottom lip. Valerie stared at Betty Hunter with pity and anger. Monty Hunter had mentioned he had sent his daughter away, but he had been wrong. The thug marched Betty Hunter next to the table, holding a knife to her throat. His other arm was wrapped around the girl, holding her steady. She was dressed in a one piece maroon dress with a wide belt and black pumps. The final bondage detail was a crotch rope that passed between the girl's legs, pulling her skirt up to reveal her stocking tops and garters. Betty made eye contact with Valerie, pleading for help. She closed her eyes and whimpered through the ball-gag when the goon squeezed one of her breasts. . Valerie glared at Catlett, who had a smug look on his face. "Let her go!" she demanded. "She has nothing to do with this! This is between me and you." Catlett grinned. "Actually, she's here for a reason." "You sadistic bastard!" Valerie hissed. "She's done nothing to you. I'm the one you want!" "That's why she's here." Catlett stood from the table and stared down at Valerie with sadistic pleasure. "It's time you had your dinner, Valerie. I want you to get down on your knees and take me into your beautiful mouth." The words hung in the air. Valerie prayed her ears were playing tricks on her. It took a moment longer for Catlett's words to sink in. His expression was deadpan and Valerie realized he was actually serious. She suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy as a chill ran down her spine. Valerie glared at Catlett with disgust. "Never! You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to do that." Catlett kept his good-natured attitude. "Here's the part where Miss Hunter comes in." He addressed the thug holding Betty. "Kill Miss Hunter on my command." Valerie suppressed a gasp. Her expression was one of mortification when she realized Catlett intended to use Betty Hunter as leverage in order to force her to comply. Valerie looked about the empty restaurant in a fit of panic, hoping Morales and Tolec would come barging through the entrance right about now. They didn't. "It's very simple, Valerie," Catlett said, his excitement growing. "Either you pleasure me with your lovely mouth, or Miss Hunter joins her father in the hereafter. Yes, I know about Monty Hunter. You have exactly three seconds to decide. One . . . two . . . " Betty Hunter moaned as the thug pressed the knife against her throat. "Stop!" Valerie exclaimed, her voice heavy with despair. She was literally trembling and her face was a mask of horror and pain. She swallowed, mustering enough courage to say what she had to say. It chilled her to the bone, but there was no other way. "I'll . . . do it," she gasped. "Don't hurt her." Catlett smiled knowingly. "See how simple that was?" He turned to the thug and said, "Take Miss Hunter to the back." The goon nodded and dragged Betty Hunter away from the table. They disappeared through the kitchen entrance, leaving Valerie and Catlett alone in the dinning area of the restaurant. Catlett's face darkened as he shifted his body toward Valerie. "Now, let's see what you can do, Valerie. Let's see if you're a complete woman. Get on your knees and suck my cock. How good a job you do determines whether Betty Hunter lives or dies. Keep that in mind." Valerie's heart thumped away inside her chest. She stole another quick glance toward the front door of the place, still hoping for a last second miracle. She suddenly realized that even if Tolec and Morales burst through the front door, there was nothing they could do to stop Catlett. They would only be witnesses to the degrading act she was about to perform. In fact, she was better off if they did not attempt to rescue her, for Betty Hunter's sake. . . and hers as well. Valerie steadied her breathing and fought off a nauseating feeling as she slid off the chair and went down to her knees in front of Catlett. He reached for his fly and unzipped his pants. He plunged his hand inside the opening and pulled out his large cock. Even though she had seen it already, Valerie could not help uttering a gasp of dread as the menacing prick was thrust before her panic-stricken face. She put away all feelings of disgust, horror, humiliation, and gave the cock her full attention. Every fiber in her being and soul told her this was wrong and urged her stop, but it was no longer up to her. Before she lost her nerve and courage she moistened her lips and moved her mouth toward Catlett's cock. She moaned with disgust as she flicked her tongue against the cock, shuddering as she tasted the limp member. Her caution gradually evaporated and she worked her tongue up and down the underside of the shaft, bathing every inch of Catlett's prick and balls with saliva, fighting the urge to bite him. Catlett groaned and moaned, tilting his head back. His flaccid cock gradually hardened and expanded as Valerie licked and flicked her tongue against it. The slurping and licking sounds were like music to his hears and his face contorted with pleasure and satisfaction. Valerie's head swam with shame and disgust. It took all her will power not to pull away and vomit. She wanted this humiliating experience to end as soon as possible. The only way to do that was to make Catlett climax. That meant she had to do everything possible to make that happen. She would probably never forgive herself, but Valerie decided go all out on Catlett's cock. She had to immerse herself in the purity of the sexual act and bring this repulsive man to orgasm. Valerie massaged and stroked Catlett's balls with her left hand, gently raking her fingernails against them. This produced a soft moan from Catlett and Valerie repeated the act several times. She was willing to do anything to heighten his pleasure. She suddenly gave the rim of the cock her full attention, trapping the bulbous head with her full lips. She kept her mouth on the tip of the cock and twirled her head as she sucked on it. Catlett groaned. Her teasing was driving him wild with anticipation. Valerie hoped Tolec and Morales would not come storming into the restaurant. The thought of being discovered in her present situation was actually more terrifying than pleasuring Catlett. That only urged her on and hrightened her excitement. Valerie steadied her head and plunged her mouth down the shaft of the cock. She took him inside her until most of the cock disappeared in her mouth. Her face was momentarily buried in his thick pubic hair before she pulled back, caressing the underbelly of the shaft with her tongue as she did so. She then reached up and encased the base of the shaft with her hand, pulling the foreskin taut. She clamped her lips tight around the cock and bobbed up and down, working her mouth along the length as she pumped him with her hand. Her stroking and sucking were so intense and determined that Valerie's lustrous red hair bounced and swayed as if it had a mind of its own. She uttered muffled moans between the intense chorus of licking and sucking sounds. The sensation of giving oral pleasure suddenly began overtaking her initial feelings of humiliation and disgust. Despite the fact that she was being forced to degrade herself, her body began responding to the act! Unlike her mind, her body did not grasp the depravity of the sexual act. It simply responded. The notion of having a thrusting and rock-hard cock moving in and out of her warm mouth produced an unwanted tingling sensation between her quivering thighs! Valerie suddenly moaned. But it was not a sound of despair or humiliation. Her eyes widened and she shuddered in mortification when she realized that it was a sound of pleasure! Her nipples hardened, her clit swelled, and she felt a slight wetness soaking through her panties! Oh, no! she screamed within her frantic mind, horrified she was becoming sexually aroused. Heaven forgive me! The final shred of her resistance crumbled like a house of cards and she was soon sucking the cock of her hated enemy with unabashed gusto, further fueling her arousal.
Catlett gripped two handfuls of Valerie's thick hair and held her steady as he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth, touching the back of her throat with each thrust. Her intense moaning conveyed her mounting pleasure and Catlett increased his stroking. His excitement was almost too much but he vowed to make the incredible experience last as long as possible. It soon became a battle of wills between Valerie and Catlett. Valerie pressed her tongue against the bottom of the cock as it slid in and out of her mouth. Each time she pulled back she concentrated on the head, sucking on the sensitive tip like it was the most delicious thing in the world. She knew this was the sensitive spot for most men and prayed Catlett was no different. Her streaming cunt was on fire and her panties were now completely soaked through with her own juices. Her nipples were hard and responsive, begging for attention. Her only relief was to rub them against the soft fabric of her blouse. Valerie intensified her efforts, sucking hard on the head of the cock as if trying to get something out of it with her mouth. She tasted Catlett's pre cum and knew he was nearing his climax. His constant grunting and panting also indicated he was on the verge of cumming. Valerie proceeded to plunge her mouth up and down the shaft with a slow and deliberate rhythm. Each time she pulled back and reached the head she would massage the ridge with her lips. This drove Catlett wild and he squirmed and shuddered above her. Valerie felt the cock pulse and throb inside her mouth. She had finally won the battle and was about to make Catlett cum! The notion of swallowing his cum repulsed her and she attempted to dislodge her mouth from his cock. Catlett had other plans. He locked his hands behind Valerie's head and began throat fucking her, pumping away as if her throat was now a cunt. Valerie moaned and groaned with discomfort, but Catlett showed no mercy. His strokes were quick and deep and his groin slammed into her anguished face. Catlett suddenly groaned and came. He shot his initial spurt of cum down Valerie's throat. She was not prepared to receive the cum and her eyes widened with shock and horror. She retched and coughed, choking on the cum that shot down her throat. She pulled her head back and attempted to push Catlett away but he held her steady and shot another load of cum into her mouth. "Uuuuugggghhhhh!" Valerie groaned when she tasted the bitter and slimy substance in her mouth. She was not about to swallow any more and stored the cum it in her mouth, waiting for Catlett to finish so she could spit it out. Catlett picked up on her intention. He pulled his cock out of Valerie's mouth and gripped her hair with his hand. "Swallow it or the girl dies!" he gasped. Valerie closed her eyes and moaned with disgust. She suddenly gulped, swallowing Catlett's cum. She gagged as it went down her throat and down into her belly. She shuddered, feeling violently ill, but managed to subdue her stomach. Her humiliation was now complete and Catlett was satisfied. He looked down at Valerie with admiration, glowing in the aftermath of the incredible blow job. It took him a moment longer for his head to clear and recover. "Very good, Valerie," Catlett taunted, stuffing his cock back inside his fly. "You are definitely a complete woman. You not only gave me the greatest blow job I've had, but you saved Betty Hunter's life. You should be proud. David Dulac is a lucky guy." Valerie remained on her knees, gathering the pieces of her fractured pride; if such a thing were possible. She hung her head in shame and remained silent. Her guard was down and Catlett seized the opportunity. He reached inside the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small spray bottle. "Good night, Valerie," he said, straying a fine mist in Valerie's face. Valerie tensed and looked up when the mist hit her. She suddenly became disoriented and a warm, paralyzing sensation spread through her body. Her eyes rolled and she felt herself falling. She crumbled to the floor and landed on her side, completely unconscious. Catlett stared at down at Valerie, shaking his head. *** Morales and Tolec staked out the Seven Seas Restaurant from a car parked across the street. It had been a while since Valerie had gone into the place and there was no sign of any activity. "Something's wrong," Morales said, looking through a pair of binoculars. "Can you sense anything?" Tolec shook his head. "The power of the medallion is blocking me." "The hell with it! We have to go in there." Morales drew his weapon and exited the car. Tolec followed him. At that moment, a car raced down the street and screeched to a stop in front of the restaurant. Morales spotted a man and a woman inside the front seat. The woman brandished a gun and opened fire at Morales. He dove for cover as bullets sailed over his head and struck his car, puncturing holes in the metal and breaking windows. Morales scrambled around the car as bullets zipped over his head. He turned toward Tolec, who took cover behind the front of the car. Across the street, Catlett came out of the restaurant, carrying an unconscious Valerie in his arms. The waiter followed Catlett, dragging a still bound and gagged Betty Hunter through the front door. They made their way toward the car as Laura Adams kept Morales and Tolec at bay by laying down a continuous barrage of cover fire. Catlett opened the door of the car and tossed Valerie's limp body in the backseat. The waiter shoved Betty Hunter inside the car and got inside himself. Catlett did not get in the car. He closed the door and turned toward the driver. "Go!" he ordered. The car pulled away, leaving Catlett standing on the side of the street. From behind the car, Morales watched as Tolec shot to his feet and casually walked toward Catlett. The two men stood several meters apart in the middle of the street. Morales contemplated whether to help Tolec or go after the speeding car that carried Valerie. He chose the latter and darted toward the driver's side of his car. Morales got in the car, stole a quick glance at Tolec and Catlett, and peeled out after the fleeing car. Tolec and Catlett eyed each other, like two gunslingers poised for a showdown. "You have something that belongs to my people," Tolec said. Catlett stared at the Indian man with a bemused expression. "Do I now?" "I am here to take it back." Catlett's face hardened. "Then come and take it." He removed his jacket and tossed it aside. He assumed a defense posture. Tolec suddenly charged at Catlett. The two men clashed, trading punches and forearms. Catlett's quickness was too much for the Aztec man and he easily dodged and sidestepped every blow. Catlett's blows connected with devastating effect, striking Tolec on the torso and face. The Indian man retreated toward the Seven Seas restaurant, but Catlett was relentless. He darted toward Tolec and connected with a sweeping forearm. Tolec flew back and hit the side of the restaurant wall. Catlett flew through the air with his leg extended, ready strike the Indian man's face. At the last moment, Tolec moved and Catlett's foot struck the wall. Catlett recovered and spun toward his opponent. Tolec lowered his shoulder and smashed into Catlett. CRRRAAASSHHHH! The impact was severe enough to send both men crashing through a large window in front of the restaurant. The glass shattered and the combatants fell inside the place. ***
Several blocks away, Morales trailed the car that carried Valerie through the dark city streets. He swerved around slower traffic and disregarded all street signs as the car bounced and flew over the rolling hills of the city. Nervous drivers honked their horns and steered out of the way. Morales spotted a figure lingering out of the car window. It was the woman and she had a gun. Morales ducked as a bullet ripped through the windshield, inches from his head. He momentarily lost control of the car but quickly recovered. It was not the first time he had been shot at and he kept his cool. The woman fired three more gunshots before the car turned a corner. All three bullets struck the windshield, but missed the detective. The stray bullets only served to strengthen his resolve and Morales sped up, determined to the chase the car down. He swerved around the corner, cutting off an angry driver who skidded to halt only meters from Morales. ***
Catlett and Tolec were engaged in fierce, though one-sided, hand-to-hand combat inside the Seven Seas restaurant. The Indian man was clearly on the losing end and blood covered most of his determined face. Tables and chairs were overturned as Catlett bounced and darted around Tolec with blinding speed. He was now simply toying with his opponent, picking and choosing his blows at will. Catlett buried a solid punch to Tolec's side and jumped straight up in the air. He executed a perfect body twist before landing before the dazed Indian man. Catlett delivered a stunning forearm to Tolec's face, sending him staggering back. Tolec came to rest on a table, landing on his back. Most of his strength was gone and he was unable rise. Approaching police sirens wailed in the distance. Catlett remained calm. It was time to finish off the Indian man. He reached down and pulled out a dagger from a sheath strapped around his ankle. Rather than dart toward his dazed opponent and finish him quickly, Catlett stalked his prey, relishing his victory. Tolec had one final trick left. He discreetly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. He suddenly sat upright on the table top and tossed the pouch on the floor before Catlett's feet. Thick white smoke suddenly engulfed the two men, spreading throughout the restaurant like a low laying fog. The Aztec man's move completely took Catlett by surprise and he was momentarily confused. Tolec gathered his remaining strength and attacked. He crashed into Catlett and two men tumbled to the restaurant floor, blinded by the white smoke that flowed around them. They grappled for control, scratching and gouging at each other. Catlett suddenly brought the knife down on Tolec's side, puncturing the Aztec man's ribs. The adrenaline pumped through Tolec's body and he disregarded the wound. Tolec then countered a vicious head-butt to Catlett's face. The impact stunned Catlett and he ceased his attack. Tolec rolled on top of his opponent and wrapped his hands around Catlett's neck, squeezing with all his strength. Catlett gagged and gasped as the Indian cut off his air. He didn't have the strength to use the dagger for a second time and he released his hold on the weapon. Catlett's face contorted in aguish as the life was being squeezed out of him. With great effort, he brought his hands up to Tolec's head and clawed at the Indian's face. Tolec countered with another head-butt to Catlett's forehead. The blow knocked his opponent into a semiconscious state and Tolec seized the opportunity. He released his choke hold and ripped open the neck of Catlett's dress shirt. The gold medallion with the image of the jaguar came into view, glistening majestically as it hung around Catlett's neck. He grabbed the medallion and pulled. Catlett's head jerked upward, but the medallion did not come free of his neck. He tugged at the medallion a second time, harder. Catlett's head snapped forward as the strap securing the medallion finally broke, releasing the golden artifact. The violent jerking snapped Catlett out of his dazed state and he delivered a solid punch to the side of Tolec's head. The vicious blow knocked the Indian man off him and Tolec rolled away from Catlett. But the Aztec man had succeeded in his objective and now had possession of the mythical medallion. Catlett felt the area around his collar where the medallion should have been. Fear and anger dominated his face. He looked around the smoke-filled restaurant. There was no sign of the Indian. The police sirens grew louder. Catlett staggered to his feet and fled toward the front of the restaurant. *** The car skidded around the intersection and jumped the curve. Morales veered back onto the street. Up ahead, he spotted the fleeing car with Valerie Miles inside. The woman who had been shooting at him suddenly disappeared back into the speeding the car. Morales stepped on the gas. He steered with his left hand and gripped his gun with his right hand. Thus far he had not returned fire for fear of hitting Valerie. But if he could get close enough . . . The woman emerged from inside the car. She stuck her torso out of the window. This time she was armed with a Thompson submachine-gun. She opened fire, spraying a volley of bullets at Morales. The bullets swept across the windshield. Only a last second swerve by Morales prevented the gunfire from striking him. The speed of the car was too much and the sudden jerk of the steering wheel sent Morales careening out of control. The car jumped the curve, mowed down a small tree, and struck a fire hydrant before coming to a stop. Water shot up into the air from the damaged hydrant. The chase was over. ***
"What do you mean you lost her?" Buckley exclaimed as he gripped Morales by the collar and shoved him against the wall. Morales had returned to Valerie's mansion and informed Buckley of what had transpired at the Seven Seas restaurant. As expected, Buckley did not take the news well. "I knew I should have been there too! You were supposed to watch her!" "This isn't helping us, Buckley," Morales said, disengaging himself from Buckley's grip. Buckley threw his arms up and shook his head with exasperation. "What do we do now? Do you have any idea how ruthless this Catlett is?" "We'll find her." Buckley shot Morales a disbelieving stare. "How? Where?" Morales shrugged."If I knew that I wouldn't be here now." Buckley scowled. "You think this is a game?" "Relax, Buckley," Morales said. "Valerie isn't the only one who's missing." There was a knock at the door. Not really knocking but banging. Buckley stepped past Morales and swung the door open. Tolec stood at the entrance, his face bloody but stoic. The Indian man suddenly collapsed into Buckley's arms. Buckley placed him down on the floor. Tolec's side was completely soaked with blood and he coughed. Morales knelt before Tolec, focusing on the wound. "Catlett?" Tolec nodded. "How bad is it?" "Bad enough," Tolec said, grimacing in pain. He reached into his pocket and handed Morales a rolled up leather scroll. "This is where he is. Follow. . . the map." "Don't talk," Morales said. "I'll get you some help." Tolec groaned as he shook his head. "My time has come." He reached into his other pocket and retrieved the sacred medallion with the image of the Jaguar on it. He held up the medallion with a trembling, bloody hand. "Return this to my people. I cannot finish the journey. It is up to you. . . my friend. Good luck." Tolec gasped and trembled violently The Aztec man closed his eyes and gasped for a last time as his hand dropped. He lay still as his breathing gradually subsided. Each breath was weaker than the previous one and then he did not breathe again. Morales did not bother to make sure Tolec was dead. He knew the Aztec man was gone. He stared at the empty shell that only an hour ago had possessed the soul of a brave and vibrant man. Morales remained silent for a moment. He picked up the medallion next to the body of the Indian man and gripped it tight. He vowed to complete Tolec's quest. Buckley gazed down at Morales with a touch of sadness. Buckley himself had been in a similar situation two years ago with Detective Joseph Pike, and he understood the young detective's emotion. Still, they were losing time and Miss Miles was in trouble. Morales finally pulled his eyes away from the body of his friend and unrolled the leather scroll. He studied the crude drawing of a map. He immediately recognized the area depicted on the map. He had no idea how the Indian man obtained the information, but he had come through again--for the last time. "Detective Morales, I'm sorry about your friend," Buckley finally said, "but we have to go find Miss Miles." Morales remained kneeling, staring at the body of Tolec. "Let's go." "Where to?" "San Bruno Mountain." THE END-PART FOUR |
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