Chapter Three

After spending all night probing every last network and database she could access, Barbara had collapsed from exhaustion at her PC. She lay asleep at her computer in the Com center, her head resting on the keyboard and cradled in her arms.

Alfred Pennyworth -- the butler -- was standing just behind her, gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to rouse her.

"Miss Barbara … Miss Barbara…" said Alfred in his trademark British accent.

Barbara suddenly awoke with a start. Glancing around the room, her eyes met Alfred's.

"Alfred", she said in a low whisper as she took off her glasses and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. On the desk and to the left of her console lay a breakfast tray; a bagel on a saucer and a glass of orange juice rested upon the tray. "What time is it?" she asked.

"6 a.m., if I'm not mistaken."

"Thank you, Alfred…" she said softly. "… But I'm really not hungry right now."

"If you will permit me to be forward, Miss Barbara", said Alfred. "You really should eat something. Our missing Miss Dinah is depending upon you. You need to keep up your strength."

"You have a point", she said. She took a sip of orange juice. "What would I ever do without you?" she said with a smile.

"I shudder to think, Madam", replied Alfred with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

Dinah was seated at a small folding table in one of The Factory's experimental rooms; all of the rooms in the Factory were alike -- gray colored walls, white linoleum tile floors, and fluorescent ceiling lights. She was becoming bored. For hours, she had been engaged in experiments that were designed to test whatever powers she may have possessed: telepathy (she was told to read the mind of someone who was sitting in another room; she, in turn, told the technicians that she could not do that unless she touched them first), telekinesis (she succeeded in making what appeared to be a Ping-Pong ball levitate inside of a Plexiglas cylinder), clairvoyance (a dismal failure -- the visions of Barbara and Helena from seven years ago notwithstanding -- she was told to describe what was happening in a room that was located 3,000 miles away from where she was), and precognition (a technician showed her a series of experimental ESP cards, each inscribed with a geometric design -- circle, star, square, triangle, etc. -- and told her to predict which card would be drawn next from the deck).

During what seemed to be the umpteenth round of clairvoyance trials, Dinah overheard two technicians in orange jumpsuits chatting away behind her.

"I'm dreading tomorrow", said the first -- a tall, lanky man with curly red hair. "Tomorrow, she gets to kill the lab rats. The mess … the smell. Ugh, I hate that!"

"Sure we oughta be talkin' bout this in front of the kid?" said the second -- a short, stocky man with receding brown hair.

"Why not? Not like she's goin' anywhere."

"Um, excuse me…" Dinah cut in. "I couldn't help but overhear. What's this about me killing rats?"

"It's part of your training…" said the red-haired technician.

"Training to do what … be an exterminator?" said Dinah, in an attempt at levity.

"It's classified."

I don't like the sound of this, thought Dinah. I'm no great lover of rats … at the same time, I'm not into senseless killing. "Um, may I ask what I'm supposed to kill them with?"

"Waddya think…" snapped the red-haired technician in reply. "…With your mind." He said as he tapped his forehead with his index finger.

That's it, thought Dinah. I'm outta here. It was at this point that Dinah decided to make her move. Now or never, she thought.

"Um, guys?" she said to the two technicians. "We've been at this for hours. I could really use a break."

"No breaks", said the red-haired technician. "We're on a tight schedule. No time."

"I don't think you understand," said Dinah. "My … powers … drain me", she lied. "If I don't rest, I can't function."

The two technicians looked at each other. After a long silence, the red-haired technician said, "Half-hour".

"Thanks" said Dinah in reply. She got up from the table, walked out the door, and left the room.

"Sure we oughta' let her go out like that?" said the short, stocky technician.

"Why not?" said the red-haired technician. "She ain' goin' nowhere."

Dinah took note of her surroundings. There was a pair of steel doors located at opposite ends of the hallway. She cut right and made a beeline for the doors located at that end; she turned the knob -- locked. She used her telekinesis ability to unlock the door; she turned the knob, opened the door, and gingerly shut it behind her.

YESSSSSSS! She thought triumphantly to herself.

Dinah turned to her left and took a walk around the grounds. Once more, she made mental notes of her surroundings. The Factory was housed in a small, squat, windowless, brown-colored building that was approximately two stories high. The time appeared to be late morning; the air was sunny, crisp, and cold (her jacket and jeans felt good). Wispy clouds dotted the sky. The Factory itself appeared to be located in a wooded area far away from New Gotham City; there wasn't a skyscraper in sight for miles around. A low wooden split-rail fence that seemed to be more for decoration than for containment surrounded it. A wooden guardhouse and a barrier arm interrupted the fence; the barrier arm blocked an access road leading into the complex.

Just inside the fence lay a small parking lot with about 10 personal cars of various makes and models parked inside. A more ominous group of 5 black-colored late model Chevrolet Monte Carlos sat parked nearby.

As she took note of her surroundings, an idea -- an escape plan -- began to form in her mind.

A commanding masculine voice then knocked Dinah out of her reverie. "HALT!"

Dinah turned towards the sound. Standing directly before her was a security guard covered head-to-toe in a navy-blue uniform -- jumpsuit, baseball cap, and bulletproof vest. He wore on a black patent-leather utility belt draped around his waist a holstered jet-black .45, pouches, a set of keys, a walkie-talkie, and a cell phone. He was tall, athletic looking, and had closely cropped dark hair.

"What are you doing out here?" barked the guard.

"Taking a walk", said Dinah in reply.

"You're not supposed to be outside of the building."

"Gimme a break", said Dinah as she surreptitiously inched closer to him. "I haven't seen daylight once since I got here!"

"Get back in the building now!" the guard barked with the Voice of Authority. "Get back inside the building now or I will forcibly remove you to the inside of the building!"

"Make me…" Dinah challenged. "I'm not going back in."

The guard charged towards her. When he was within striking distance, Dinah delivered a roundhouse kick to his jaw, stunning him. She then delivered a second kick to the groin and a third to his knee, sending him to the ground.

Guess they're not used to having the lab rats bite back, Dinah thought in satisfaction. She quickly frisked the guard, taking his wallet from his back pocket (cash … always a good thing, she thought) and the cell phone from his utility belt (I can use this to contact Barbara). She took one last look at the guard -- who was now doubled over in pain, screaming in agony, and grabbing his crotch -- and bolted towards the parking lot.

Dinah grabbed the door handle of the first car that was handy -- a silver late model Toyota Corolla. Finding it locked, she used her telekinetic powers to unlock the door. That done, she got behind the wheel, shut the door, used her powers again to turn the ignition and start the car, and -- accompanied by the sound of squealing tires -- backed up, tore out of the parking lot as fast as a Toyota engine would take her, barreled down the access road, smashed the barrier arm to splinters, made a hard right onto the street, and headed for the open road.