Author: Danja

Disclaimer: Birds of Prey, its characters, and concepts are the property of Warner Brothers, Tollin-Robbins Productions & DC Comics.

Author's Note: This is intended as a sequel to my previous story, "The Factory" (I recommend reading that story before reading this one). In the event you're wondering about the significance of the title, I intended it as a metaphor for power contained … and unleashed.

Genie In A Bottle

Chapter One

What could they want with me? thought Dinah as she opened the door to the main office. It was 1:45 p.m. and she had just been called out of 6th period American History. It was a cold bright November day and she was wearing a denim jacket and blue jeans.

She walked over to the reception counter. A gray-haired secretary wearing a black knitted shawl and silver horned-rimmed glasses on a chain was sitting at a desk located behind the counter.

"Excuse me," said Dinah to the secretary.

The secretary glanced over in Dinah's direction.

"May I help you?" she replied.

"I'm Dinah Redmond," said Dinah. "I was called down here to see the principal."

"Go right in, please," said the secretary. "He's expecting you."

Dinah walked straight ahead; the principal's office was the third door on the left. Finding it open, she walked inside. Standing before her were two men in matching black two-piece suits, white shirts, black ties, black wingtip shoes, and dark wraparound sunglasses. The man on the right was bald, muscular, and stood about six-foot-four. The man on the left was shorter -- about six-foot -- lean yet athletic-looking, and wore his (red) hair in a crew cut.

Dinah glanced over to her right. Donald Martin, the principal of New Gotham City High School -- a stout man in his middle-forties with receding dark-brown hair -- sat slumped back in his chair; his arms dangled limply by his side. His mouth gaped open; his head was draped over the back of the chair. A tiny stream of saliva ran down his chin. His dark blue eyes stared off into space.

"Mr. Martin?" said Dinah, trying to grab his attention.

"He's fine," said the bald man on the right. Directing his attention to the catatonic Mr. Martin, he said with a smirk, "Aren't you, Mr. Martin?"

"Everything's … fine," slurred Principal Martin thickly. While Dinah's attention was focused on Mr. Martin, the man on the left produced a cigar-sized silver cylinder from a pocket inside his jacket; the tip of the cylinder was encased in a smoky crystal dome.

I've got a baad feeling about this, thought Dinah. She then turned her attention back to the two men in black standing across from her.

"Who are you?" she said. "What do you want from me?"

The bald man produced a FBI badge and ID in a black leather wallet. "Agent Sloane … FBI." He then gestured to the man on the left. "This is Agent Riggs."

Where have I heard THAT one before? thought Dinah wryly. "I don't believe you," she said. "Prove it."

With one quick gesture, the red-haired agent raised the silver cylinder to Dinah's eye level and pushed a hidden switch. The last thing Dinah saw was a flash of blinding white light.

"She WHAT?!" said Barbara, aghast.

"She left here with two FBI agents", said the secretary. As soon as the men in black had left, she had notified Barbara -- Dinah's emergency contact -- about the matter. "She was led away in handcuffs."

God, this kid's popular with the Feds, thought Barbara. "Why wasn't I notified while they were here?"

"At first, they wanted to speak with Mr. Martin. Mr. Martin then told me to bring Dinah down to the office. Dinah went in … next thing I know, she was being led away in handcuffs!"

"What did these two men look like?"

"That's the weirdest thing," said the secretary. "They were both dressed in matching two-piece black suits, white shirts, black ties, and dark sunglasses. I never knew the FBI had a uniform."

Oh, no … thought Barbara. They're getting serious this time. "Thank you for telling me this, Ms. … "

"Ingle", said the secretary with a smile. "Rhymes with jingle."

"Ms. … Ingle" said Barbara with a weak smile.

It was 3:00 p.m.

"Hello?" said a barely awake Helena as she grabbed the phone by her bed.

"Huntress? It's Oracle", said Barbara on the other end of the line.

"What's wrong?" Helena mumbled. "I'm not normally Huntress before 10 p.m."

"We have a situation here … Dinah's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Helena exclaimed. She was now fully awake. "By who?"

"I'm guessing The Factory."

" 'The Factory?' " Helena asked. "The government nutjobs who took her three years ago? THAT Factory?"

"The very same," said Barbara. "What's more, it gets better … apparently, they've got Men In Black doing their dirty work for them."

"Men In Black?" Helena exclaimed. "You mean like in the movie?"

"We're not dealing with Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones here," said Barbara. "These Men In Black are very real, very dangerous, and anything BUT a laughing matter."

"I see…"

"Once again, they posed as FBI agents." Where DO these people get their badges and IDs? Barbara thought. I swear, someone's giving them out like candy at Halloween. "I called the FBI's New Gotham City office. They have no record of Dinah being taken into custody. No search warrants, no arrest warrants, no bookings … nothing. Nada. Zip."

"So they're fakes…"

"Pretty much."

"So … how do we find her?" Helena asked. "She could be anywhere by now."

"Excellent question," Barbara replied.

"Good … work on it," said Helena. "Meanwhile, I'm going back to sleep…"