JSA: If Looks Could Kill
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 10
Back at the Justice Society of America headquarters in New York City, Batman sat contemplating in his mind the recent events that had taken place. With The Sandman, he had flown Hourman to a hospital on Crete to be operated on by a surgeon that Diana Prince had referred them to. The chief surgeon had veritably leapt at the mention of her name, recognizing Hourman was a friend of hers and personally making the arrangement for emergency surgery.
Before arriving at the hospital, the crimefighters had gotten out of their costumes and helped removed Hourman's.
The out of costume Batman -- calling himself Bob Wang -- had waited there for three hours while bullet fragments were picked from Rex Tyler's muscles and flesh.
Hourman lived.
Batman had left Wildcat on the island to search for Catwoman. Hoping against hope that somehow she had not been aboard the launch.
But when the launch blew up as it was moving out of the cove, it had at least one person on it. Maybe two.
Footprints only small enough for Catwoman's or another woman's had been found in a patch of sand. They also found her whip.
Perhaps Wildcat would work a miracle and find her somehow. He should soon know.
He closed his eyes, not really believing that such a miracle would happen.
He heard a voice, but it wasn't a miracle, only Ted Grant.
He opened his eyes, and turned around. "The doctor must've told you, right?" he asked.
Ted nodded. "Yeah."
"You didn't find any sign of her, right?" Bruce almost had stated rather than asked.
Ted had said nothing for a moment, then sat down beside Bruce. "A guy who was aboard the fishing boat that brought us to the island," he said quietly, haltingly, "is a pretty good diver. At first light, he went down and I guess the island shelves were out pretty far from the cove. The guy said it looked volcanic, the formation. He found part of the ship, the little launch. No bodies, but he found this," and Ted Grant had pulled something out of his pocket. His fist was closed on the table, then he opened it.
In his palm was a silver ladies' wristwatch. It was still ticking, nearly eleven a.m. Encircling the face were tiny diamonds, each stone looking perfect in the dim light that emanated from the room.
Bruce Wayne had looked away from the watch to his friend's face. "That's Selina's watch," he said in a low, hoarse whisper. "I've seen her wear it many times."
***
If Catwoman had been on the boat, only one logical addendum presented itself. If False-Face had been on the island, and only he would have killed Blaze and substituted himself for the dead woman in order to preserve anonymity and effect escape, then False-Face was dead also.
Batman sat in the JSA headquarters trying to analyze all the events that had taken place in the Aegean. He sat there with Wildcat beside him. For the moment, Batman was a wanted man. Colonel Flagg had warrants out for his arrest and Diana Prince had been unable to convince her sources in Washington to squelch them. And if False-Face were dead, ninety-nine canisters of VX nerve gas were out in the world waiting for someone to find them or some irresponsible person to use them. According to current estimates, it would take only a precious few of them, judiciously placed, to precipitate perhaps the end of all human life.
And a woman he had known for several years -- who he apparently had feelings for -- was dead, not even enough of her body to be found to bury or cremate.
He was very tired.
Madmen now ran the asylum called Earth and soon would destroy it, bringing the asylum down around them.
And a woman he may had fallen in love with -- had loved would never be the phrase -- was dead.
***
It was a few hours later.
"You really think this will work?" Batman asked.
Dr Fate looked at the Masked Manhunter from Gotham City. "You only need to trust in the mystical powers, Batman. They know all and see all. My sympathies for the apparent death of Catwoman."
Batman shrugged. "What's with the crystal ball?"
"You wish to know what you didn't see on your mission, do you not?"
"You can do that?"
Behind the gold mask, Dr Fate smiled. "The mystic powers can do many things, Caped Crusader. Gaze into the ball and concentrate. Concentrate on what it is you wish to know."
Batman watched as the glass ball began to change colors. Next he saw a white cloud of smoke seemingly swirl inside. Then, amazingly, images began to form.
"The powers that be followed your progress to the little island where Blaze Fields had her hidaway," Dr Fate began. "The powers watched what transpired. They were powerless to stop it. I want that clear."
"You mean someone watched while Catwoman was killed?" Batman whispered hoarsely.
"Watch," Dr Fate replied.
The Dark Knight saw an image of Catwoman confronting a woman in the crystal ball.
As if he were receiving signals from another source, Dr Fate continued, "Your Catwoman confronted a man and a woman on the beach, incapciatating the man and was disarming the woman. But the woman was not a woman, and the ..."
"Wait a minute ..." Batman tried to interrupt.
"Catwoman was knocked to the ground by someone who could only have been False-Face," stated Dr Fate. "Then False-Face retrieved the body of the man Catwoman had knocked unconscious and hauled him into the power launch. He then set the timer of a bomb."
Batman continued to watch the images unfold in the crystal ball.
As if he were narrating a story, Dr Fate continued with his tale. "False- Face set the launch on a course out of the cove and dived into the water. He got Catwoman to her feet and they moved out beyond the cove toward the other side of the island. Then the launch exploded."
Batman saw the blast again in the ball.
"The plane was airborne as soon as the launch left the cove. I would assume, Batman, that the pilot figured he was no longer going to wait for False-Face or Blaze and he decided to save his own life. But Catwoman appears to be alive and has been taken off by False-Face. And she saw his face. The powers know that. She may still be alive."
"Still be? Don't these powers know for sure? How about where is she?" Batman asked.
"You must seek your own answers, Batman. The powers will only help those who help themselves."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Fate?" Batman exclaimed.
"It means you have work ahead of you."
Batman leaned back in his chair. He listened as Dr Fate continued talking.
"A lot of planes got airborne from the far side of the cove, and it is assumed False-Face was on one of the seaplanes and probably took your Catwoman with him."
Thoughts of Selina, being still alive, and perhaps the captive of False- Face, filled Batman's mind to the point where he couldn't think properly. He forced himself to think unemotionally. After what seemed to be a long moment of silence, the Caped Crusader looked into the gold mask of his fellow crimefighter. "We need to stop False-Face at all costs."
***
The warrants for the arrest of Batman were killed. Colonel Flagg had announced that as he took off his blindfold and entered the room, also announcing that after it was all over he planned to punch out Batman. The heroes in the room snickered at that one. Wildcat had countered by saying Flagg had no sense of humor.
Wildcat sat to Batman's right, at the round conference table in the old mansion located in Queens. Wildcat always felt the old converted home was too elaborate to be comfortable. With at least twenty rooms and decorated like something out of a movie about the right and powerful, the place gave him the creeps.
He looked at the others around the table. Directly opposite him sat The Sandman. Next to him was Dr Fate whose new information had sparked the meeting. Beside him, drawn away as though the JSA were a contagious disease, was Colonel Flagg. At the head of the table sat Dr Mid-Nite.
The rest of the table was empty.
Dr Mid-Nite spoke, "I think, Colonel Flagg, your remarks suggesting physical retribution were a bit uncalled for. I would hazard the guess that under similar circumstances you and the Caped Crusader would have behaved in a similar fashion. And for the moment, at least, the U.S. government has informally agreed to work with the Justice Society of America to stop a terrible threat to the world. What we have, gentlemen," and now Dr Mid-Nite made a sweeping gesture with his hands, encompassing all those who sat at the table, "is the opportunity of foiling False-Face by sheer force of numbers."
Flagg looked at Dr Mid-Nite incredulously. "Numbers?" he snickered. "There's only six of us here. And how come all of you wear masks?"
Dr Mid-Nite ignored the question and continued. "I was in contact earlier today with Hourman. He is recovering from his injuries and hopes to rejoin us in the near future."
"Something happen to that yellow gorilla?" Flagg asked saracastically.
Sandman asked, "Dr Fate, perhaps you have a spell that is able to keep our guest quiet?"
Flagg crossed his arms over his chest and sat back, his mouth now tightly closed. Dr Fate had nothing to do with it.
"Suffice it to say," Dr Mid-Nite continued, "with the law enforcement and intelligence communities watching, we have the world's ports, air terminals and other transportation systems under scrutiny. To perpetrate his foul deeds, False-Face must likely travel, since he seems to prefer a personal touch. Ergo, he'll surface and someone, from whatever source, may spot him."
"You forget, Doctor," Sandman began. "The matter of the face of False-Face. We do not know it. He could be anyone."
"I daresay, you're quite correct, Sandman. He could even be one of us." Dr Mid-Nite smiled.
Wildcat watched Batman. Batman never smiled and he wasn't about to begin now.
***
She realized that she was still alive only because the man the world sought as False-Face hadn't known she had seen the scar. Otherwise, he could not have let her live.
Naked except for the torn and dirty pink silk teddy she had worn under her clothes during the assault on the island, she sat with her legs tucked up on a packing crate, watching the rats move about the floor. It wasn't terribly bad, she reflected. During the daylight hours, a few shafts of light made it possible at least to see in the cargo hold where she was kept. But at night it was a different story. That was when the rats represented terror to her. While she dozed, one of them came at her. She had felt it against the sole of her bare left foot and she screamed. Perhaps because of the scream or her sudden motion, the rat had been frightened away.
She had not slept since, and she judged it as thirty-six hours at least. Her watch had been taken from her at some point between the time False-Face had knocked her out and then forced her along to the other side of the island after reviving her.
False-Face had apparently had his own escape route planned all the while. She had seen the launch explode. He had planted the bomb on the launch the previous day in the event Blaze Fields betrayed him. A small boat had been hidden in an inlet and they had taken the boat out to sea, where one of the seaplanes picked them up. After a short flight, they landed near the dark hulk of what she guessed was either an Albanian or East German freighter. After that, False-Face had stripped off her clothes and locked her away.
There were no toliet facilities except for a galvanized mop bucket and this was changed every eight hours or so. It was her only way of keeping time. It was impossible to keep track by the tiny cracks of light that squeezed through slits in the overhead cargo doors. She knew that the ship was in motion. The rocking had made her nauseated.
She glanced up at the cracks in the doors. The light was nearly gone. Her head buzzed, her eyes stung with fatigue. Another night quickly approached. If she slept, she thought, the rats would come and chew at her flesh.
The side door of the cargo hold opened, and the rats scurried for cover amid the packing crates.
A man, wearing a red cowl, a green tunic and red tights, quickly entered the hold. He was handsome by any standards. On his tunic were the words: "Fair Play."
"I have come to rescue you," the man began, sprinting across the room. "No time to explain," his voice urged. "Hurry, I'll get you out of here." The man handed her a raincoat. She climbed down from the crates and stood up, covering herself with it. "It's all I have for you, I'm afraid, but from the looks of this hole a good hot tub might be in order as soon as I've got you out of here."
"Who are you?" she whispered, wrapping the trench coat around her waist, staring at the man's gray eyes through the cowl. "Where did you come from?" He looked like the hero of a romance novel.
"I'm Mr Terrific. Now, hurry, we've not much time before that guard I took care of might come around and raise an alarm."
"Yes," she whispered, her spirits rising. The man, athletic, tall and wiry, raced across the cargo bay with Selina at his heels.
He flattened himself against the door for a moment, then glanced at her and smiled. "We're nearly there. Come on!" He opened the door just wide enough to squeeze out. She followed him, the metal floor slippery and cold under her bare feet. She noticed his costume. It was expensively cut. He looked perfect for what he was, she thought.
Mr Terrific was at the base of a metal stairway. Selina huddled behind him. "Batman and the JSA have been terribly worried over you," the man said with a warm smile. "It won't be long until you see them again."
"And Hourman?" She asked, hesitating, "did he ...?"
"Last I heard, he was recovering nicely, Catwoman," came the reply. "Now, be quiet while we take the stairs and hopefully nobody has sounded an alarm. Hurry." Mr Terrific started up the steps, two at a time. Selina, holding the handrail, followed.
Fresh air. As she inhaled the salty-smelling breeze, she began to feel faint, but Mr Terrific was at her elbow. "Steady now, Catwoman. We're nearly free of this place."
"What about False-Face?" she asked.
"His whereabouts are known, but no one is moving against him until your safety is assured. Batman himself would have been here, but I was the closest and circumstances wouldn't allow a delay."
She nodded, and moved after him, cautiously, slowly, seeing daylight through the opening to the main deck ahead.
In a hushed tone, her rescuer murmured, "Those villians ... I mean during your confinement ... I hope you weren't, ahh, put into a compromising position, actually."
"No, thank God. They left me alone," said Selina. She shivered as she said it.
And then Mr Terrific stopped, just below deck level, and turned to her. His eyes looked into hers and he asked, "Did you see his face? Could you identify him?"
She thought of the scar, but evaded his question. "When I saw him, he was disguised as a woman named Blaze Fields. I think I saw his real hair color when he pulled away the shawl that covered his head. He was wearing something like a wig, and it didn't look like a real wig. More like he glued the hair into the shawl. But the hair I saw underneath it could have been dyed. The face itself was too heavily made up to recognize."
"Hmmm," he murmured, his lips turning down at the corners of his mouth. "Clever, this False-Face. Damn clever. Come on, and watch your footing." He was through the opening to the deck, Selina moving along slightly behind him.
A helicopter waited on the main deck, its rotor blades moving lazily. "Is that for us?" Selina Kyle whispered.
Mr Terrific turned and looked at her. "I'm afraid not, Fraulein Catwoman. It is for me alone."
Fear gripped her.
The voice had changed to the voice half in drag from the cove, the voice of her jailer. The voice of False-Face.
She threw herself toward him, hammering her fists against his chest. He was sent crumpling to the deck.
But there were hands on her, roughly pulling her back. Seamen from the freighter bound her arms behind her.
She looked at False-Face. The face was still that of Mr Terrific. Makeup and the cowl camouflaged the lightning-bolt-shaped scar beneath the left earlobe. She despised him, hated him.
She snapped her head forward, spitting at him. But she missed and False- Face laughed. She realized she had been beaten again.
She stared down toward the hold. Soon, it would be night. She couldn't stay awake any more. Her body and her mind had been punished enough. She screamed.
"My, you certainly are your namesake aren't you, Catwoman?" he said while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're not putting you back into the hold, Fraulein. You're going on a journey. You may prove a useful bargaining tool against the JSA and Batman in particular. I had to be certain you hadn't seen too much of me. I couldn't risk your being able to recognize me. And now I am certain."
"Where are you taking me?" she blurted out.
"I am taking you nowhere, Fraulein. But some of my associates are. I am going behind what the Western democracies call the Iron Curtain. A job needs my personal touch. Just think of it," he said as he leaned toward her, smiling, his face inches from hers. She wanted to spit at him, but her mouth was too dry to attempt it again. "An American nerve gas is released inside a vital area of the Soviet Union. They ..." he started to laugh, "they ... will be at each other's throats. And the stage will be set for the final move -- the grand finale -- one that shall bring both East and West to my feet."
He took a step back and laughed. Then in what was supposed to be the voice of Mr Terrific, he said, "I must dash off, I'm afraid. I have to save the world, you know. But we'll see each other soon, Catwoman."
He turned and walked away. "Bastard!" Selina Kyle screamed at him. Then she felt the tip of the needle against her left upper arm as the raincoat was ripped away by one of the crewmen.
She passed out in somebody's arms.
***
False-Face stepped down out of the helicopter, the wind created by the rotor blades whipping through his hair. It was his own hair, dyed and not a wig. He jogged from the still stirring machine across the concrete airfield. To his right, the desert sun was a blood-red orb sinking on the western horizon.
A small plane sat waiting, the engines already humming with life as he narrowed the distance toward it. Slung from his left shoulder was a leather sack. In his right hand was a matching leather flight bag.
He reached the steps of the plane, not even winded from the two-hundred yard sprint.
He started up the steps with a feeling of triumph. The fools had bought the idea that he would trust his operation to the dregs of the right wing, which Blaze Fields had assembled for him. The security there had been so lax, had they really thought he would be such a dolt?
He stowed his luggage in the small closet just aft of the cockpit, then stepped through the cockpit doorway and addressed the pilot.
"I shall be ready in a moment, please begin takeoff," he commanded.
"Yes, Mr False-Face," the American pilot answered him.
The copilot, looking very European, said nothing.
False-Face returned to the passenger compartment and picked out a seat. A very pretty young woman came forward. "Would you care for a drink, Mr False- Face?" she asked. A slight German accent strayed through her otherwise faultless English.
False-Face replied, "Yes, a gin and tonic would be most refreshing."
He sat in his chair and watched her as she walked down the aisle. The plane was already taxiing. He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. There would be time perhaps, he reflected, and the couch looked large enough for two.
He smiled. The woman would be more refreshing than the gin and tonic. And there would be little time for refreshment in Russia.
To be continued ....
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 10
Back at the Justice Society of America headquarters in New York City, Batman sat contemplating in his mind the recent events that had taken place. With The Sandman, he had flown Hourman to a hospital on Crete to be operated on by a surgeon that Diana Prince had referred them to. The chief surgeon had veritably leapt at the mention of her name, recognizing Hourman was a friend of hers and personally making the arrangement for emergency surgery.
Before arriving at the hospital, the crimefighters had gotten out of their costumes and helped removed Hourman's.
The out of costume Batman -- calling himself Bob Wang -- had waited there for three hours while bullet fragments were picked from Rex Tyler's muscles and flesh.
Hourman lived.
Batman had left Wildcat on the island to search for Catwoman. Hoping against hope that somehow she had not been aboard the launch.
But when the launch blew up as it was moving out of the cove, it had at least one person on it. Maybe two.
Footprints only small enough for Catwoman's or another woman's had been found in a patch of sand. They also found her whip.
Perhaps Wildcat would work a miracle and find her somehow. He should soon know.
He closed his eyes, not really believing that such a miracle would happen.
He heard a voice, but it wasn't a miracle, only Ted Grant.
He opened his eyes, and turned around. "The doctor must've told you, right?" he asked.
Ted nodded. "Yeah."
"You didn't find any sign of her, right?" Bruce almost had stated rather than asked.
Ted had said nothing for a moment, then sat down beside Bruce. "A guy who was aboard the fishing boat that brought us to the island," he said quietly, haltingly, "is a pretty good diver. At first light, he went down and I guess the island shelves were out pretty far from the cove. The guy said it looked volcanic, the formation. He found part of the ship, the little launch. No bodies, but he found this," and Ted Grant had pulled something out of his pocket. His fist was closed on the table, then he opened it.
In his palm was a silver ladies' wristwatch. It was still ticking, nearly eleven a.m. Encircling the face were tiny diamonds, each stone looking perfect in the dim light that emanated from the room.
Bruce Wayne had looked away from the watch to his friend's face. "That's Selina's watch," he said in a low, hoarse whisper. "I've seen her wear it many times."
***
If Catwoman had been on the boat, only one logical addendum presented itself. If False-Face had been on the island, and only he would have killed Blaze and substituted himself for the dead woman in order to preserve anonymity and effect escape, then False-Face was dead also.
Batman sat in the JSA headquarters trying to analyze all the events that had taken place in the Aegean. He sat there with Wildcat beside him. For the moment, Batman was a wanted man. Colonel Flagg had warrants out for his arrest and Diana Prince had been unable to convince her sources in Washington to squelch them. And if False-Face were dead, ninety-nine canisters of VX nerve gas were out in the world waiting for someone to find them or some irresponsible person to use them. According to current estimates, it would take only a precious few of them, judiciously placed, to precipitate perhaps the end of all human life.
And a woman he had known for several years -- who he apparently had feelings for -- was dead, not even enough of her body to be found to bury or cremate.
He was very tired.
Madmen now ran the asylum called Earth and soon would destroy it, bringing the asylum down around them.
And a woman he may had fallen in love with -- had loved would never be the phrase -- was dead.
***
It was a few hours later.
"You really think this will work?" Batman asked.
Dr Fate looked at the Masked Manhunter from Gotham City. "You only need to trust in the mystical powers, Batman. They know all and see all. My sympathies for the apparent death of Catwoman."
Batman shrugged. "What's with the crystal ball?"
"You wish to know what you didn't see on your mission, do you not?"
"You can do that?"
Behind the gold mask, Dr Fate smiled. "The mystic powers can do many things, Caped Crusader. Gaze into the ball and concentrate. Concentrate on what it is you wish to know."
Batman watched as the glass ball began to change colors. Next he saw a white cloud of smoke seemingly swirl inside. Then, amazingly, images began to form.
"The powers that be followed your progress to the little island where Blaze Fields had her hidaway," Dr Fate began. "The powers watched what transpired. They were powerless to stop it. I want that clear."
"You mean someone watched while Catwoman was killed?" Batman whispered hoarsely.
"Watch," Dr Fate replied.
The Dark Knight saw an image of Catwoman confronting a woman in the crystal ball.
As if he were receiving signals from another source, Dr Fate continued, "Your Catwoman confronted a man and a woman on the beach, incapciatating the man and was disarming the woman. But the woman was not a woman, and the ..."
"Wait a minute ..." Batman tried to interrupt.
"Catwoman was knocked to the ground by someone who could only have been False-Face," stated Dr Fate. "Then False-Face retrieved the body of the man Catwoman had knocked unconscious and hauled him into the power launch. He then set the timer of a bomb."
Batman continued to watch the images unfold in the crystal ball.
As if he were narrating a story, Dr Fate continued with his tale. "False- Face set the launch on a course out of the cove and dived into the water. He got Catwoman to her feet and they moved out beyond the cove toward the other side of the island. Then the launch exploded."
Batman saw the blast again in the ball.
"The plane was airborne as soon as the launch left the cove. I would assume, Batman, that the pilot figured he was no longer going to wait for False-Face or Blaze and he decided to save his own life. But Catwoman appears to be alive and has been taken off by False-Face. And she saw his face. The powers know that. She may still be alive."
"Still be? Don't these powers know for sure? How about where is she?" Batman asked.
"You must seek your own answers, Batman. The powers will only help those who help themselves."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Fate?" Batman exclaimed.
"It means you have work ahead of you."
Batman leaned back in his chair. He listened as Dr Fate continued talking.
"A lot of planes got airborne from the far side of the cove, and it is assumed False-Face was on one of the seaplanes and probably took your Catwoman with him."
Thoughts of Selina, being still alive, and perhaps the captive of False- Face, filled Batman's mind to the point where he couldn't think properly. He forced himself to think unemotionally. After what seemed to be a long moment of silence, the Caped Crusader looked into the gold mask of his fellow crimefighter. "We need to stop False-Face at all costs."
***
The warrants for the arrest of Batman were killed. Colonel Flagg had announced that as he took off his blindfold and entered the room, also announcing that after it was all over he planned to punch out Batman. The heroes in the room snickered at that one. Wildcat had countered by saying Flagg had no sense of humor.
Wildcat sat to Batman's right, at the round conference table in the old mansion located in Queens. Wildcat always felt the old converted home was too elaborate to be comfortable. With at least twenty rooms and decorated like something out of a movie about the right and powerful, the place gave him the creeps.
He looked at the others around the table. Directly opposite him sat The Sandman. Next to him was Dr Fate whose new information had sparked the meeting. Beside him, drawn away as though the JSA were a contagious disease, was Colonel Flagg. At the head of the table sat Dr Mid-Nite.
The rest of the table was empty.
Dr Mid-Nite spoke, "I think, Colonel Flagg, your remarks suggesting physical retribution were a bit uncalled for. I would hazard the guess that under similar circumstances you and the Caped Crusader would have behaved in a similar fashion. And for the moment, at least, the U.S. government has informally agreed to work with the Justice Society of America to stop a terrible threat to the world. What we have, gentlemen," and now Dr Mid-Nite made a sweeping gesture with his hands, encompassing all those who sat at the table, "is the opportunity of foiling False-Face by sheer force of numbers."
Flagg looked at Dr Mid-Nite incredulously. "Numbers?" he snickered. "There's only six of us here. And how come all of you wear masks?"
Dr Mid-Nite ignored the question and continued. "I was in contact earlier today with Hourman. He is recovering from his injuries and hopes to rejoin us in the near future."
"Something happen to that yellow gorilla?" Flagg asked saracastically.
Sandman asked, "Dr Fate, perhaps you have a spell that is able to keep our guest quiet?"
Flagg crossed his arms over his chest and sat back, his mouth now tightly closed. Dr Fate had nothing to do with it.
"Suffice it to say," Dr Mid-Nite continued, "with the law enforcement and intelligence communities watching, we have the world's ports, air terminals and other transportation systems under scrutiny. To perpetrate his foul deeds, False-Face must likely travel, since he seems to prefer a personal touch. Ergo, he'll surface and someone, from whatever source, may spot him."
"You forget, Doctor," Sandman began. "The matter of the face of False-Face. We do not know it. He could be anyone."
"I daresay, you're quite correct, Sandman. He could even be one of us." Dr Mid-Nite smiled.
Wildcat watched Batman. Batman never smiled and he wasn't about to begin now.
***
She realized that she was still alive only because the man the world sought as False-Face hadn't known she had seen the scar. Otherwise, he could not have let her live.
Naked except for the torn and dirty pink silk teddy she had worn under her clothes during the assault on the island, she sat with her legs tucked up on a packing crate, watching the rats move about the floor. It wasn't terribly bad, she reflected. During the daylight hours, a few shafts of light made it possible at least to see in the cargo hold where she was kept. But at night it was a different story. That was when the rats represented terror to her. While she dozed, one of them came at her. She had felt it against the sole of her bare left foot and she screamed. Perhaps because of the scream or her sudden motion, the rat had been frightened away.
She had not slept since, and she judged it as thirty-six hours at least. Her watch had been taken from her at some point between the time False-Face had knocked her out and then forced her along to the other side of the island after reviving her.
False-Face had apparently had his own escape route planned all the while. She had seen the launch explode. He had planted the bomb on the launch the previous day in the event Blaze Fields betrayed him. A small boat had been hidden in an inlet and they had taken the boat out to sea, where one of the seaplanes picked them up. After a short flight, they landed near the dark hulk of what she guessed was either an Albanian or East German freighter. After that, False-Face had stripped off her clothes and locked her away.
There were no toliet facilities except for a galvanized mop bucket and this was changed every eight hours or so. It was her only way of keeping time. It was impossible to keep track by the tiny cracks of light that squeezed through slits in the overhead cargo doors. She knew that the ship was in motion. The rocking had made her nauseated.
She glanced up at the cracks in the doors. The light was nearly gone. Her head buzzed, her eyes stung with fatigue. Another night quickly approached. If she slept, she thought, the rats would come and chew at her flesh.
The side door of the cargo hold opened, and the rats scurried for cover amid the packing crates.
A man, wearing a red cowl, a green tunic and red tights, quickly entered the hold. He was handsome by any standards. On his tunic were the words: "Fair Play."
"I have come to rescue you," the man began, sprinting across the room. "No time to explain," his voice urged. "Hurry, I'll get you out of here." The man handed her a raincoat. She climbed down from the crates and stood up, covering herself with it. "It's all I have for you, I'm afraid, but from the looks of this hole a good hot tub might be in order as soon as I've got you out of here."
"Who are you?" she whispered, wrapping the trench coat around her waist, staring at the man's gray eyes through the cowl. "Where did you come from?" He looked like the hero of a romance novel.
"I'm Mr Terrific. Now, hurry, we've not much time before that guard I took care of might come around and raise an alarm."
"Yes," she whispered, her spirits rising. The man, athletic, tall and wiry, raced across the cargo bay with Selina at his heels.
He flattened himself against the door for a moment, then glanced at her and smiled. "We're nearly there. Come on!" He opened the door just wide enough to squeeze out. She followed him, the metal floor slippery and cold under her bare feet. She noticed his costume. It was expensively cut. He looked perfect for what he was, she thought.
Mr Terrific was at the base of a metal stairway. Selina huddled behind him. "Batman and the JSA have been terribly worried over you," the man said with a warm smile. "It won't be long until you see them again."
"And Hourman?" She asked, hesitating, "did he ...?"
"Last I heard, he was recovering nicely, Catwoman," came the reply. "Now, be quiet while we take the stairs and hopefully nobody has sounded an alarm. Hurry." Mr Terrific started up the steps, two at a time. Selina, holding the handrail, followed.
Fresh air. As she inhaled the salty-smelling breeze, she began to feel faint, but Mr Terrific was at her elbow. "Steady now, Catwoman. We're nearly free of this place."
"What about False-Face?" she asked.
"His whereabouts are known, but no one is moving against him until your safety is assured. Batman himself would have been here, but I was the closest and circumstances wouldn't allow a delay."
She nodded, and moved after him, cautiously, slowly, seeing daylight through the opening to the main deck ahead.
In a hushed tone, her rescuer murmured, "Those villians ... I mean during your confinement ... I hope you weren't, ahh, put into a compromising position, actually."
"No, thank God. They left me alone," said Selina. She shivered as she said it.
And then Mr Terrific stopped, just below deck level, and turned to her. His eyes looked into hers and he asked, "Did you see his face? Could you identify him?"
She thought of the scar, but evaded his question. "When I saw him, he was disguised as a woman named Blaze Fields. I think I saw his real hair color when he pulled away the shawl that covered his head. He was wearing something like a wig, and it didn't look like a real wig. More like he glued the hair into the shawl. But the hair I saw underneath it could have been dyed. The face itself was too heavily made up to recognize."
"Hmmm," he murmured, his lips turning down at the corners of his mouth. "Clever, this False-Face. Damn clever. Come on, and watch your footing." He was through the opening to the deck, Selina moving along slightly behind him.
A helicopter waited on the main deck, its rotor blades moving lazily. "Is that for us?" Selina Kyle whispered.
Mr Terrific turned and looked at her. "I'm afraid not, Fraulein Catwoman. It is for me alone."
Fear gripped her.
The voice had changed to the voice half in drag from the cove, the voice of her jailer. The voice of False-Face.
She threw herself toward him, hammering her fists against his chest. He was sent crumpling to the deck.
But there were hands on her, roughly pulling her back. Seamen from the freighter bound her arms behind her.
She looked at False-Face. The face was still that of Mr Terrific. Makeup and the cowl camouflaged the lightning-bolt-shaped scar beneath the left earlobe. She despised him, hated him.
She snapped her head forward, spitting at him. But she missed and False- Face laughed. She realized she had been beaten again.
She stared down toward the hold. Soon, it would be night. She couldn't stay awake any more. Her body and her mind had been punished enough. She screamed.
"My, you certainly are your namesake aren't you, Catwoman?" he said while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're not putting you back into the hold, Fraulein. You're going on a journey. You may prove a useful bargaining tool against the JSA and Batman in particular. I had to be certain you hadn't seen too much of me. I couldn't risk your being able to recognize me. And now I am certain."
"Where are you taking me?" she blurted out.
"I am taking you nowhere, Fraulein. But some of my associates are. I am going behind what the Western democracies call the Iron Curtain. A job needs my personal touch. Just think of it," he said as he leaned toward her, smiling, his face inches from hers. She wanted to spit at him, but her mouth was too dry to attempt it again. "An American nerve gas is released inside a vital area of the Soviet Union. They ..." he started to laugh, "they ... will be at each other's throats. And the stage will be set for the final move -- the grand finale -- one that shall bring both East and West to my feet."
He took a step back and laughed. Then in what was supposed to be the voice of Mr Terrific, he said, "I must dash off, I'm afraid. I have to save the world, you know. But we'll see each other soon, Catwoman."
He turned and walked away. "Bastard!" Selina Kyle screamed at him. Then she felt the tip of the needle against her left upper arm as the raincoat was ripped away by one of the crewmen.
She passed out in somebody's arms.
***
False-Face stepped down out of the helicopter, the wind created by the rotor blades whipping through his hair. It was his own hair, dyed and not a wig. He jogged from the still stirring machine across the concrete airfield. To his right, the desert sun was a blood-red orb sinking on the western horizon.
A small plane sat waiting, the engines already humming with life as he narrowed the distance toward it. Slung from his left shoulder was a leather sack. In his right hand was a matching leather flight bag.
He reached the steps of the plane, not even winded from the two-hundred yard sprint.
He started up the steps with a feeling of triumph. The fools had bought the idea that he would trust his operation to the dregs of the right wing, which Blaze Fields had assembled for him. The security there had been so lax, had they really thought he would be such a dolt?
He stowed his luggage in the small closet just aft of the cockpit, then stepped through the cockpit doorway and addressed the pilot.
"I shall be ready in a moment, please begin takeoff," he commanded.
"Yes, Mr False-Face," the American pilot answered him.
The copilot, looking very European, said nothing.
False-Face returned to the passenger compartment and picked out a seat. A very pretty young woman came forward. "Would you care for a drink, Mr False- Face?" she asked. A slight German accent strayed through her otherwise faultless English.
False-Face replied, "Yes, a gin and tonic would be most refreshing."
He sat in his chair and watched her as she walked down the aisle. The plane was already taxiing. He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. There would be time perhaps, he reflected, and the couch looked large enough for two.
He smiled. The woman would be more refreshing than the gin and tonic. And there would be little time for refreshment in Russia.
To be continued ....