JSA: The Face Of Evil
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.
CHAPTER 5
Dr Horn, the under secretary of agriculture, was walking toward the podium, holding something in his hand. The vice-president stared at him.
"Dr Horn," he said, "is there somethin' wrong? Dr Horn?"
The under secretary of agriculture stood alone before the forward dais, and the congressional officers turned to stare at him.
"Is there somethin' wrong, Dr Horn?"
Horn spoke, but the voice was cold and sharp. "I am False-Face, the man you referred to as ruthless a moment ago. Well, Mr Vice-President, gentlemen and ladies, let me assure you that I am. And a mass murderer, as well. And if that sergeant at arms comes any closer, you will learn firsthand how much a mass murderer I can be." Then the self-proclaimed False-Face raised his right hand, the object he had been carrying clearer now. It looked like a battery pack for Horn's hearing aid.
"This is a detonator -- a multifunctional device," False-Face said. "It can, for example, explode the tiniest of explosives --" and with great drama, the man who looked like Dr Horn, but sounded very Germanic, sounded slightly insane, removed the cover of the hearing-aid battery pack. The vice-president watched as False-Face worked a small switch.
In the public gallery, the press gallery and on the main floor by some of the gold-trimmed double doors at the sides of the chamber there were sudden puffs of smoke followed by the tinkling of glass. The smell of gunpowder was acrid in the air.
The vice-president recoiled, and Secret Service agents rushed toward False- Face. False-Face shouted, "One step nearer, and the bombs that I've laced with VX nerve gas I have planted beneath the Capitol and throughout Washington shall be detonated! Only one step!"
The Secret Service detail stopped.
"Those were harmless devices that I just caused to detonate. Do not be alarmed -- yet." He laughed at his own mirthless joke.
False-Face's right index finger moved and another button was pressed. There was a roar from the corridor beyond the doors.
"Jesus!" one of the joint chiefs shouted.
The vice-president spoke into his microphone. "Mr False-Face, that was --"
"Merely conventional explosives, calculated to do little or no damage. The next time I push one of these buttons, this city will be filled with dead bodies in the streets. The same thing will happen in the capitals of the NATO alliance and the Warsaw Pact. The United States government is now hostage to my demands, to which -- False-Face smiled broadly "-- I shall soon make all of you, and all the world, privy. But another demonstration first."
False-Face was staring at the vice-president, and the vice-president was watching the killer's eyes. It was the familiar face of Dr Horn, but a madness was there, a quality he had once seen as a boy when a hired hand on the family ranch had gone berserk and killed a horse with a pitchfork.
"Chief sergeant at arms," yelled False-Face. "The time, please! Quickly!"
The vice-president looked at the chief sergeant at arms and nodded to the man. "Tell him the time."
"It is eleven minutes past nine, sir."
"Excellent. Contact the Nevada State Patrol and ask them to confirm that a large bomb has just detonated in a ghost town one hundred miles north of Las Vegas. And --" False-Face smiled again "-- feel free to contact the FBI, the CIA, the Army, the Marines, for all I care. Let them know your predicament here, but return immediately. Tell them if I am shot and the detonator falls from my hand, the last button with activate. Tell them that if I am thrown to the ground and the detonator taken from me, the detonator will activate. Tell them that if there is any sign of a planned move against me, this entire section of the country will be filled with millions of dead bodies. It is I who have engineered the taking of your President. I whose whim it is now to keep your President alive. Should I detonate my weapons, the weapon where the President is being held will also be detonated. As will all the others, plunging the world into a total war."
"Go and make that phone call," the vice-president ordered the chief sergeant at arms.
The man walked through the twin gold-trimmed wooden doors and was gone.
***
The Vice-President of the United States could do nothing but listen. It was the chief sergeant at arms who spoke. "The blast in Nevada has been confirmed. It was just as the gentleman indicated."
False-Face said, "Very good. You have alerted what authorities remain, I assume."
The chief sergeant at arms nodded.
Then False-Face ascended the steps to the intermediary dais, where the President would usually stand, and the big, Texan, vice-president eyed the detonator. "Mr Vice-President. I assure you once again that if you attempt to grab the detonator, however brave such an act might be, all in here shall die and devastation shall rack the world capitals, including your own."
Camly, the vice-president murmured, "Son of a bitch."
"I hate that term," False-Face said forcefully. "If you use it again, I'll have you executed. Now be a good man and sit down. And remember, if someone attempts to jump me, we all die," and he smiled, his blue eyes bright and clear and mad.
The vice-president nodded, then stepped back to sit beside the Speaker of the House of Representatives.
False-Face began to speak. "I do not wish to overwhelm you with all my demands at once." His voice echoed through the PA system, exuding confidence, almost laughing at them, the vice-president thought. "First the chief sergeant at arms shall go outside and make arrangements for a message to sent immediately over radio station WTOP. The message simply is: 'Come as you are.' The chief sergeant at arms will then make the arrangements for Capitol Police to allow my associates inside. Fifty of them. They are all heavily armed. If they are not summoned or an attempt is made to stop them, I use this," and False-Face raised the detonator. "I then wish for Capitol Police to ring the building to keep all other parties outside. Especially people who enjoy frolicking in masks and capes. They may be mystery men to you -- but they are no mystery to me. A well meaning assault by Batman and his cohorts would only precipitate disaster for you all."
False-Face turned around, leaning his right elbow carelessly against the rostrum. His eyes met the vice-president's. "Tell the chief sergeant at arms to do as I say -- immediately."
The vice-president whispered hoarsely but loudly enough for the chief sergeant at arms to hear him, "Do as this man says -- to the letter." The vice-president's only hope was that he'd live long enough to spit on False- Face's grave.
***
Selina Kyle ate her hamburger slowly. She hadn't been hungry for it despite the fact it tasted good and was hot. The young girl, Elizabeth, was nibbling at French fries.
Selina watched the President through the bars of the cell. He wasn't eating. The Secret Service agents looked positively tormented, she thought. Some of them ate, some did not. But they were helpless -- each man's right wrist was shackled to one of the bars of the cell with a set of handcuffs.
The Nazi with the injured shoulder sat opposite her, and she began to speak to him. "Are you the leader here?" She knew he was not False-Face.
"Yes, Sister, here I am the leader. But I am subordinate, and proudly so, to one who is the leader of leaders, who shall lead the world this night. False-Face."
"What is he doing to lead the world tonight?" Selina Kyle asked, trying to sound innocent.
The man shrugged. "I do not know. But I know that tonight is the night. Herr False-Face is too great to confide his overall plan to anyone. And that is just as well. Then I, too, can experience the exultation the world will experience when it learns of his glory and his leadership."
"Is insanity a needed qualification to serve False-Face?"
The man's eyes flashed. "You think to provoke me, Sister? To what end? To grab a gun, perhaps? Here, then," and the Nazi set down his hamburger, wiped his hand on the yellow napkin and reached under his coat. His hand reappeared clutching a gleaming stainless-steel revolver.
"Here, Sister. The gun is loaded." He opened the cylinder and turned the gun toward her so she could see the case heads of the cartridges. "This is why we shall win, Sister. This is why," and he closed the revolver, set it on the table and pushed it across to her.
The gun slid to a stop in front of her half-eaten hamburger. The little girl started to cry. "Quiet, darling," Selina Kyle said in her best Sister Mary Angelica voice.
"Go ahead, Sister, pick it up and shoot me in the face -- ha!"
Selina Kyle hated the man's smugness.
"You are afraid of the guard with the submachine gun there at the door?"
Selina looked to the guard who stood by the door to the interrogation room watching them, the machine gun held almost too casually.
Her handsome interrogator went on, "Then I shall have him leave," and he turned to the man with the machine gun. "Martin, go outside and have a cigarette. Do not return until I call you."
"But Herr Stasser --"
"No, do as you are told, Martin."
The guard promptly turned on his heels and walked through the doorway, closing the door to the detention area behind him.
"There, Sister," said Selina's captor, "take the gun and do your worst. The cell area is soundproof."
Selina Kyle looked at the gun. Her mind wandered to Batman and she wondered if he was alive. Was he somewhere near her, right now? She couldn't wait to find out. She could feel that the eyes of the Secret Service agents and the President were on her, waiting for her to respond.
"Throw me the gun, Sister!" It was one of the Secret Service agents.
Slowly she reached out to the table. The tips of her fingers touched the gun.
"Perhaps the presence of the little girl disturbs you," taunted Stasser. "Perhaps you would not wish her to see a religious person kill another human being. I can call Martin back to remove her."
Selina Kyle picked up the gun. The weight seemed to be right. She didn't believe it was loaded with blanks.
She held the gun.
"Shoot me, Sister. You cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Simple."
Selina Kyle stood up and walked over to the little girl. With her right hand she held the revolver pointing to the floor. With her left she slowly removed her glasses.
"You'll drop it if you hold it that way, Sister. No guts -- no courage to save the President of the United States, no courage to kill? That is why we shall win, why we shall always triumph!" Stasser sneered.
Selina stood beside Elizabeth, and the girl dropped her French fries onto her dress as she stared at the menacing gun.
"Darling, you just stand over here, out of the way. I'm going to have to teach this bad man a lesson he'll never forget."
"Just cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Even a religious fool should be able to do that."
Selina Kyle whispered, "No need -- just a good, long, double-action pull would do the trick, you jackass."
To the amazement of everyone in the room, Sister Angelica's voice changed to something with a hardened edge to it. "Where I come from, only chicken- shits use guns."
Stasser's eyes suddenly grew larger.
Selina Kyle informed him, "When I hurt your shoulder in the woods -- that's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you now, you Nazi moron."
She handed the gun through the bars to the President. "Would you be a dear and hold this for me for a moment? I'm going to seperate this gentleman's other shoulder for him."
***
Another member of the Justice Society of America had arrived at the command post in Reddington. Answering the call for additional help was Mr Terrific from Gateway City.
The first thing that Mr Terrific heard as he entered the tent was, "That's a crazy plan! All you'll succeed in doing is to get yourself killed, and the President, too," Flagg insisted, stabbing a finger at Batman.
Batman asked, "You got a better plan?"
"That's beside the point."
Wildcat said, "It sounds pretty good to me -- a little suicidal, maybe, but it might work. Nobody knows False-Face -- I mean nobody really knows him."
"Wildcat has a point there, Colonel Flagg," chimed in Dr Mid-Nite. "And Batman's gambled against False-Face before and survived."
"What's the plan?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Listen," Flagg said, ignoring the new arrival's question, "Don't take that shit I was giving General Pauley seriously, Batman."
"What's the plan?" Mr Terrific asked again.
"You can't hurt my feelings, Colonel," Batman replied.
Dr Mid-Nite looked to Mr Terrific and explained the situation in a manner of a few moments.
Mr Terrific said to the men who were assembled, "You got a plan of the school from that housewife and you know the general layout of the town, and now you are going to ask the military to pull back ten miles outside the town and bring down all his helicopters. Have I got that right?"
"You got it, Terrific," Wildcat said. He then looked to Flagg. "All you got to do is order it, Colonel."
"Nuts -- those masks you guys wear must be too tight on your heads. You're all crazy," Flagg said.
"We have to bail out the President and his so-called 'football,' Dr Mid- Nite countered.
"Hey," said Flagg, "False-Face's a killer, he's loony, maybe, but he's not going to start some atomic war with the Russians just when we put ourselves right in his pocket."
Batman shrugged. "Maybe that is his plan -- I don't know. But I do know we can't wait around for that joint session of Congress to negotiate with him. And he hasn't even given us a list of demands yet. Word of any of this leaks out and it's panic city. -- world money market takes a dive, anarchy reigns, maybe the Russians will attack us."
"He's right, Colonel," Mr Terrific put in.
"I cannot authorize --" Flagg began.
A second lieutenant ran up to them. "Which one of you gentlemen is Colonel Flagg?"
Flagg looked to the four costumed heroes surrounding him. "Do any of these clowns look like they would be called, Colonel, son?"
"Sorry, sir." the young officer replied. "Sir, the general needs you over there."
Batman was already in motion. The other three crimefighters flanked him.
General Pauley was sitting at a table on the far end of the tent beside the maps, the flesh on his skull gleaming in the light of the yellow bulb over the table. It was pretty quiet, and the hum of the electrical generator outside that powered the tent was the only noise Batman could hear beside his own breathing.
"What is it, General?" Batman asked.
General Pauley, looking older and more tired than he was a short while ago, raised his head. His blue eyes were tear rimmed. "Here, read it yourself. I had to personally decode it -- shit," and Pauley stuffed the folded piece of paper into Batman's right hand.
Batman opened the cable and read:
EYES ONLY GENERAL CREIGHTON WOTHINGTON PAULEY, REDDINGTON FIELD HEADQUARTERS, USCONARC
With the capture of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, it is my privilege to inform you that a board of general officers has designated you acting chief of staff of the Army. Your presence in Washington is required immediately.
"Capture of the Joint Chiefs?" Batman murmured.
"Read this," Pauley rasped, handing Batman a second note. "Decoded this one, too."
EYES ONLY COLONEL (RET.) SAM FLAGG, CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY, REDDINGTON FIELD HEADQUARTERS, USCONARC
Sir: Your presence is required immediately in Washington. A man claiming to be the fugitive only known as "False-Face" has just taken over the special joint session of Congress called to meet the crisis of the presidential kidnapping. The suspect has indicated that the Capitol building is mined with bombs laced with VX nerve gas, and there is reason to believe this claim has some validity. Special U.S. Air Force transport awaits your arrival.
Wildcat whispered, "Holy shit."
Dr Mid-Nite cleared his throat and said, "False-Face's gambit is finally revealed. I almost feel a sense of relief in a bizarre way."
"What a conspiracy," Mr Terrific murmured.
"Conspiracy?" Dr Mid-Nite raised his voice as if in a question. "Quite, yes. The greatest conspiracy the world has ever known."
Batman said nothing. His plan, skeletal as it was, was all they had left. The entire United States government was the prisoner of a single Nazi madman.
***
Selina Kyle looked at the President of the United States. There was no key to his cell. "Mr President. Go to the back corner of the cell, as far from the door as you can, then shield yourself with that mattress and the pillow. I'm going to shoot the lock off, and I have to fire at an angle. Otherwise I might hit one of your Secret Service men in the next cell."
"Are you a nun, miss?"
"No, sir, but there's no time for that."
"Are you an American agent?"
"I'm a jewel thief called Catwoman. I was their prisoner, too. I'll tell you later."
"Catwoman?!" one of the Secret Service agents exclaimed. "I've heard of you. You're a criminal out of Gotham City."
Selina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got a bad press agent. The newspapers are always writing bad things about me. You want me to get him out of here, or not?"
The little girl was crying, and Selina held her against her skirts -- it was the safest place.
Selina aimed the pistol and fired once at the lock.
"You got it," one of the Secret Service agents shouted. "Now get him the hell out of here, lady!"
But what about you and the others, Fox?" the President asked, pushing away the mattress and the pillow, throwing his weight against the door. Lock parts sprang from it to the floor.
"We'll be all right -- for the time being, anyway -- Mr President."
"I can try shooting off the cuffs for one or two of you --" Selina began.
"You look like you can handle a gun as well as any of us. How much ammo did you find on the suspect over there who you beat the crap out of?" Fox asked.
"Six loose rounds, nothing else."
"Don't waste them on us, then. Get him out of here. There's a spare key for the presidential limousine on a magnetic plate under the rear bumper and the limo's got the best armor plating money can buy. I saw them hauling the Air Force sergeant and the 'football' toward the school. Without the President to use the codes, the 'football' won't mean shit. With the President out of here, we've got a simple hostage situation, and maybe we can talk them out of using that bomb and nerve gas inside the school."
The President of the United States stepped through the jail-cell doorway. He extended his right hand and squeezed the hand of the man he'd called Fox. "I understand the agents in the advance party nicknamed you 'Paranoid' Fox. Well, if I ever hear anyone using that nickname again, I'll personally punch him out. Good luck, and God bless you all."
He turned and looked at Selina Kyle. "You seem to be my rescuer, miss," and he gave the familiar grin she'd seen so often in newsreel footage and in the magazines and newspapers. "So where to?"
"We have to take the little girl, then get to the school and take control of the bomb. I know the man who's behind all this, the one they call False- Face. He'd kill the children. I know that."
"Mr President, get out of here --" came the voice of "Paranoid" Fox.
"She's right, Fox. Maybe we'll be back for you."
The President started for the doorway and then pulled up. "What about the man with the submachine gun?" he asked Selina.
"Shout for help. He won't expect that. I'll take care of him, while you hold the little girl," she replied. She noticed that her voice sounded a hell of lot surer about things than she felt.
The President nodded, taking the little girl and sweeping her up into his arms. "It'll be all right, sweetheart," he whsipered. Then opened the door and shouted, "Help! Help us in here -- hurry!"
The President stepped back as Selina stood beside the door.
When the doorway burst open she had counted ten seconds.
The man with the machine gun stood stock-still in the doorway for an instant, his eyes wide in surprise. But before he could react, Selina's fist shot him in the nose, spraying blood everywhere. His body crumpled to the floor and Selina kicked him in the head three times to make sure he stayed down. The President, still holding the little girl in his arms, snatched up the submachine gun.
Selina started to search the unconscious man for weapons. She found another pistol and eighteen loose rounds of ammo for it.
"You know how to handle a submachine gun, Mr President?" she asked.
"I was a PT boat commander in the Navy. We never had to use one of those."
"Think you could use a revolver?"
"Yes."
She nodded, feeling her nun's veil move as she did, not having the time to play with the pins that held it to her hair. She stood up and passed one of the pistols and the machine gun through the bars to the man the President had called "Paranoid" Fox. "Agent Fox -- there's a nice champagne with your name -- maybe this will help you." On neither of the two men had there been handcuff keys.
Stasser wasn't going anywhere except to see a doctor in an emergency room. Martin would eventually wake up with a mountain-size headache and blurred vision.
She started back to the door, taking the child back into her arms. "You'll have to run with us," she said soothingly. "Can you be a brave girl?"
The little girl sniffed back a tear and looked into Selina's eyes.
"I knew you could be. I bet you like cats, too." Selina smiled, then kissed the child's forehead. She set the girl down, and handed the President the pistol and the spare rounds of ammo. "Don't waste it, Mr President," she said.
"Shouldn't you be armed, miss?"
"Never use them," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
He nodded solemnly. "I'll hold the girl's hand -- you might need both of yours to put some more of these thugs out of commission. You seem to be very good at it."
Selina nodded back.
With the President of the United States beside her, the little girl between them, Selina Kyle started ahead.
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.
CHAPTER 5
Dr Horn, the under secretary of agriculture, was walking toward the podium, holding something in his hand. The vice-president stared at him.
"Dr Horn," he said, "is there somethin' wrong? Dr Horn?"
The under secretary of agriculture stood alone before the forward dais, and the congressional officers turned to stare at him.
"Is there somethin' wrong, Dr Horn?"
Horn spoke, but the voice was cold and sharp. "I am False-Face, the man you referred to as ruthless a moment ago. Well, Mr Vice-President, gentlemen and ladies, let me assure you that I am. And a mass murderer, as well. And if that sergeant at arms comes any closer, you will learn firsthand how much a mass murderer I can be." Then the self-proclaimed False-Face raised his right hand, the object he had been carrying clearer now. It looked like a battery pack for Horn's hearing aid.
"This is a detonator -- a multifunctional device," False-Face said. "It can, for example, explode the tiniest of explosives --" and with great drama, the man who looked like Dr Horn, but sounded very Germanic, sounded slightly insane, removed the cover of the hearing-aid battery pack. The vice-president watched as False-Face worked a small switch.
In the public gallery, the press gallery and on the main floor by some of the gold-trimmed double doors at the sides of the chamber there were sudden puffs of smoke followed by the tinkling of glass. The smell of gunpowder was acrid in the air.
The vice-president recoiled, and Secret Service agents rushed toward False- Face. False-Face shouted, "One step nearer, and the bombs that I've laced with VX nerve gas I have planted beneath the Capitol and throughout Washington shall be detonated! Only one step!"
The Secret Service detail stopped.
"Those were harmless devices that I just caused to detonate. Do not be alarmed -- yet." He laughed at his own mirthless joke.
False-Face's right index finger moved and another button was pressed. There was a roar from the corridor beyond the doors.
"Jesus!" one of the joint chiefs shouted.
The vice-president spoke into his microphone. "Mr False-Face, that was --"
"Merely conventional explosives, calculated to do little or no damage. The next time I push one of these buttons, this city will be filled with dead bodies in the streets. The same thing will happen in the capitals of the NATO alliance and the Warsaw Pact. The United States government is now hostage to my demands, to which -- False-Face smiled broadly "-- I shall soon make all of you, and all the world, privy. But another demonstration first."
False-Face was staring at the vice-president, and the vice-president was watching the killer's eyes. It was the familiar face of Dr Horn, but a madness was there, a quality he had once seen as a boy when a hired hand on the family ranch had gone berserk and killed a horse with a pitchfork.
"Chief sergeant at arms," yelled False-Face. "The time, please! Quickly!"
The vice-president looked at the chief sergeant at arms and nodded to the man. "Tell him the time."
"It is eleven minutes past nine, sir."
"Excellent. Contact the Nevada State Patrol and ask them to confirm that a large bomb has just detonated in a ghost town one hundred miles north of Las Vegas. And --" False-Face smiled again "-- feel free to contact the FBI, the CIA, the Army, the Marines, for all I care. Let them know your predicament here, but return immediately. Tell them if I am shot and the detonator falls from my hand, the last button with activate. Tell them that if I am thrown to the ground and the detonator taken from me, the detonator will activate. Tell them that if there is any sign of a planned move against me, this entire section of the country will be filled with millions of dead bodies. It is I who have engineered the taking of your President. I whose whim it is now to keep your President alive. Should I detonate my weapons, the weapon where the President is being held will also be detonated. As will all the others, plunging the world into a total war."
"Go and make that phone call," the vice-president ordered the chief sergeant at arms.
The man walked through the twin gold-trimmed wooden doors and was gone.
***
The Vice-President of the United States could do nothing but listen. It was the chief sergeant at arms who spoke. "The blast in Nevada has been confirmed. It was just as the gentleman indicated."
False-Face said, "Very good. You have alerted what authorities remain, I assume."
The chief sergeant at arms nodded.
Then False-Face ascended the steps to the intermediary dais, where the President would usually stand, and the big, Texan, vice-president eyed the detonator. "Mr Vice-President. I assure you once again that if you attempt to grab the detonator, however brave such an act might be, all in here shall die and devastation shall rack the world capitals, including your own."
Camly, the vice-president murmured, "Son of a bitch."
"I hate that term," False-Face said forcefully. "If you use it again, I'll have you executed. Now be a good man and sit down. And remember, if someone attempts to jump me, we all die," and he smiled, his blue eyes bright and clear and mad.
The vice-president nodded, then stepped back to sit beside the Speaker of the House of Representatives.
False-Face began to speak. "I do not wish to overwhelm you with all my demands at once." His voice echoed through the PA system, exuding confidence, almost laughing at them, the vice-president thought. "First the chief sergeant at arms shall go outside and make arrangements for a message to sent immediately over radio station WTOP. The message simply is: 'Come as you are.' The chief sergeant at arms will then make the arrangements for Capitol Police to allow my associates inside. Fifty of them. They are all heavily armed. If they are not summoned or an attempt is made to stop them, I use this," and False-Face raised the detonator. "I then wish for Capitol Police to ring the building to keep all other parties outside. Especially people who enjoy frolicking in masks and capes. They may be mystery men to you -- but they are no mystery to me. A well meaning assault by Batman and his cohorts would only precipitate disaster for you all."
False-Face turned around, leaning his right elbow carelessly against the rostrum. His eyes met the vice-president's. "Tell the chief sergeant at arms to do as I say -- immediately."
The vice-president whispered hoarsely but loudly enough for the chief sergeant at arms to hear him, "Do as this man says -- to the letter." The vice-president's only hope was that he'd live long enough to spit on False- Face's grave.
***
Selina Kyle ate her hamburger slowly. She hadn't been hungry for it despite the fact it tasted good and was hot. The young girl, Elizabeth, was nibbling at French fries.
Selina watched the President through the bars of the cell. He wasn't eating. The Secret Service agents looked positively tormented, she thought. Some of them ate, some did not. But they were helpless -- each man's right wrist was shackled to one of the bars of the cell with a set of handcuffs.
The Nazi with the injured shoulder sat opposite her, and she began to speak to him. "Are you the leader here?" She knew he was not False-Face.
"Yes, Sister, here I am the leader. But I am subordinate, and proudly so, to one who is the leader of leaders, who shall lead the world this night. False-Face."
"What is he doing to lead the world tonight?" Selina Kyle asked, trying to sound innocent.
The man shrugged. "I do not know. But I know that tonight is the night. Herr False-Face is too great to confide his overall plan to anyone. And that is just as well. Then I, too, can experience the exultation the world will experience when it learns of his glory and his leadership."
"Is insanity a needed qualification to serve False-Face?"
The man's eyes flashed. "You think to provoke me, Sister? To what end? To grab a gun, perhaps? Here, then," and the Nazi set down his hamburger, wiped his hand on the yellow napkin and reached under his coat. His hand reappeared clutching a gleaming stainless-steel revolver.
"Here, Sister. The gun is loaded." He opened the cylinder and turned the gun toward her so she could see the case heads of the cartridges. "This is why we shall win, Sister. This is why," and he closed the revolver, set it on the table and pushed it across to her.
The gun slid to a stop in front of her half-eaten hamburger. The little girl started to cry. "Quiet, darling," Selina Kyle said in her best Sister Mary Angelica voice.
"Go ahead, Sister, pick it up and shoot me in the face -- ha!"
Selina Kyle hated the man's smugness.
"You are afraid of the guard with the submachine gun there at the door?"
Selina looked to the guard who stood by the door to the interrogation room watching them, the machine gun held almost too casually.
Her handsome interrogator went on, "Then I shall have him leave," and he turned to the man with the machine gun. "Martin, go outside and have a cigarette. Do not return until I call you."
"But Herr Stasser --"
"No, do as you are told, Martin."
The guard promptly turned on his heels and walked through the doorway, closing the door to the detention area behind him.
"There, Sister," said Selina's captor, "take the gun and do your worst. The cell area is soundproof."
Selina Kyle looked at the gun. Her mind wandered to Batman and she wondered if he was alive. Was he somewhere near her, right now? She couldn't wait to find out. She could feel that the eyes of the Secret Service agents and the President were on her, waiting for her to respond.
"Throw me the gun, Sister!" It was one of the Secret Service agents.
Slowly she reached out to the table. The tips of her fingers touched the gun.
"Perhaps the presence of the little girl disturbs you," taunted Stasser. "Perhaps you would not wish her to see a religious person kill another human being. I can call Martin back to remove her."
Selina Kyle picked up the gun. The weight seemed to be right. She didn't believe it was loaded with blanks.
She held the gun.
"Shoot me, Sister. You cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Simple."
Selina Kyle stood up and walked over to the little girl. With her right hand she held the revolver pointing to the floor. With her left she slowly removed her glasses.
"You'll drop it if you hold it that way, Sister. No guts -- no courage to save the President of the United States, no courage to kill? That is why we shall win, why we shall always triumph!" Stasser sneered.
Selina stood beside Elizabeth, and the girl dropped her French fries onto her dress as she stared at the menacing gun.
"Darling, you just stand over here, out of the way. I'm going to have to teach this bad man a lesson he'll never forget."
"Just cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Even a religious fool should be able to do that."
Selina Kyle whispered, "No need -- just a good, long, double-action pull would do the trick, you jackass."
To the amazement of everyone in the room, Sister Angelica's voice changed to something with a hardened edge to it. "Where I come from, only chicken- shits use guns."
Stasser's eyes suddenly grew larger.
Selina Kyle informed him, "When I hurt your shoulder in the woods -- that's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you now, you Nazi moron."
She handed the gun through the bars to the President. "Would you be a dear and hold this for me for a moment? I'm going to seperate this gentleman's other shoulder for him."
***
Another member of the Justice Society of America had arrived at the command post in Reddington. Answering the call for additional help was Mr Terrific from Gateway City.
The first thing that Mr Terrific heard as he entered the tent was, "That's a crazy plan! All you'll succeed in doing is to get yourself killed, and the President, too," Flagg insisted, stabbing a finger at Batman.
Batman asked, "You got a better plan?"
"That's beside the point."
Wildcat said, "It sounds pretty good to me -- a little suicidal, maybe, but it might work. Nobody knows False-Face -- I mean nobody really knows him."
"Wildcat has a point there, Colonel Flagg," chimed in Dr Mid-Nite. "And Batman's gambled against False-Face before and survived."
"What's the plan?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Listen," Flagg said, ignoring the new arrival's question, "Don't take that shit I was giving General Pauley seriously, Batman."
"What's the plan?" Mr Terrific asked again.
"You can't hurt my feelings, Colonel," Batman replied.
Dr Mid-Nite looked to Mr Terrific and explained the situation in a manner of a few moments.
Mr Terrific said to the men who were assembled, "You got a plan of the school from that housewife and you know the general layout of the town, and now you are going to ask the military to pull back ten miles outside the town and bring down all his helicopters. Have I got that right?"
"You got it, Terrific," Wildcat said. He then looked to Flagg. "All you got to do is order it, Colonel."
"Nuts -- those masks you guys wear must be too tight on your heads. You're all crazy," Flagg said.
"We have to bail out the President and his so-called 'football,' Dr Mid- Nite countered.
"Hey," said Flagg, "False-Face's a killer, he's loony, maybe, but he's not going to start some atomic war with the Russians just when we put ourselves right in his pocket."
Batman shrugged. "Maybe that is his plan -- I don't know. But I do know we can't wait around for that joint session of Congress to negotiate with him. And he hasn't even given us a list of demands yet. Word of any of this leaks out and it's panic city. -- world money market takes a dive, anarchy reigns, maybe the Russians will attack us."
"He's right, Colonel," Mr Terrific put in.
"I cannot authorize --" Flagg began.
A second lieutenant ran up to them. "Which one of you gentlemen is Colonel Flagg?"
Flagg looked to the four costumed heroes surrounding him. "Do any of these clowns look like they would be called, Colonel, son?"
"Sorry, sir." the young officer replied. "Sir, the general needs you over there."
Batman was already in motion. The other three crimefighters flanked him.
General Pauley was sitting at a table on the far end of the tent beside the maps, the flesh on his skull gleaming in the light of the yellow bulb over the table. It was pretty quiet, and the hum of the electrical generator outside that powered the tent was the only noise Batman could hear beside his own breathing.
"What is it, General?" Batman asked.
General Pauley, looking older and more tired than he was a short while ago, raised his head. His blue eyes were tear rimmed. "Here, read it yourself. I had to personally decode it -- shit," and Pauley stuffed the folded piece of paper into Batman's right hand.
Batman opened the cable and read:
EYES ONLY GENERAL CREIGHTON WOTHINGTON PAULEY, REDDINGTON FIELD HEADQUARTERS, USCONARC
With the capture of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, it is my privilege to inform you that a board of general officers has designated you acting chief of staff of the Army. Your presence in Washington is required immediately.
"Capture of the Joint Chiefs?" Batman murmured.
"Read this," Pauley rasped, handing Batman a second note. "Decoded this one, too."
EYES ONLY COLONEL (RET.) SAM FLAGG, CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY, REDDINGTON FIELD HEADQUARTERS, USCONARC
Sir: Your presence is required immediately in Washington. A man claiming to be the fugitive only known as "False-Face" has just taken over the special joint session of Congress called to meet the crisis of the presidential kidnapping. The suspect has indicated that the Capitol building is mined with bombs laced with VX nerve gas, and there is reason to believe this claim has some validity. Special U.S. Air Force transport awaits your arrival.
Wildcat whispered, "Holy shit."
Dr Mid-Nite cleared his throat and said, "False-Face's gambit is finally revealed. I almost feel a sense of relief in a bizarre way."
"What a conspiracy," Mr Terrific murmured.
"Conspiracy?" Dr Mid-Nite raised his voice as if in a question. "Quite, yes. The greatest conspiracy the world has ever known."
Batman said nothing. His plan, skeletal as it was, was all they had left. The entire United States government was the prisoner of a single Nazi madman.
***
Selina Kyle looked at the President of the United States. There was no key to his cell. "Mr President. Go to the back corner of the cell, as far from the door as you can, then shield yourself with that mattress and the pillow. I'm going to shoot the lock off, and I have to fire at an angle. Otherwise I might hit one of your Secret Service men in the next cell."
"Are you a nun, miss?"
"No, sir, but there's no time for that."
"Are you an American agent?"
"I'm a jewel thief called Catwoman. I was their prisoner, too. I'll tell you later."
"Catwoman?!" one of the Secret Service agents exclaimed. "I've heard of you. You're a criminal out of Gotham City."
Selina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got a bad press agent. The newspapers are always writing bad things about me. You want me to get him out of here, or not?"
The little girl was crying, and Selina held her against her skirts -- it was the safest place.
Selina aimed the pistol and fired once at the lock.
"You got it," one of the Secret Service agents shouted. "Now get him the hell out of here, lady!"
But what about you and the others, Fox?" the President asked, pushing away the mattress and the pillow, throwing his weight against the door. Lock parts sprang from it to the floor.
"We'll be all right -- for the time being, anyway -- Mr President."
"I can try shooting off the cuffs for one or two of you --" Selina began.
"You look like you can handle a gun as well as any of us. How much ammo did you find on the suspect over there who you beat the crap out of?" Fox asked.
"Six loose rounds, nothing else."
"Don't waste them on us, then. Get him out of here. There's a spare key for the presidential limousine on a magnetic plate under the rear bumper and the limo's got the best armor plating money can buy. I saw them hauling the Air Force sergeant and the 'football' toward the school. Without the President to use the codes, the 'football' won't mean shit. With the President out of here, we've got a simple hostage situation, and maybe we can talk them out of using that bomb and nerve gas inside the school."
The President of the United States stepped through the jail-cell doorway. He extended his right hand and squeezed the hand of the man he'd called Fox. "I understand the agents in the advance party nicknamed you 'Paranoid' Fox. Well, if I ever hear anyone using that nickname again, I'll personally punch him out. Good luck, and God bless you all."
He turned and looked at Selina Kyle. "You seem to be my rescuer, miss," and he gave the familiar grin she'd seen so often in newsreel footage and in the magazines and newspapers. "So where to?"
"We have to take the little girl, then get to the school and take control of the bomb. I know the man who's behind all this, the one they call False- Face. He'd kill the children. I know that."
"Mr President, get out of here --" came the voice of "Paranoid" Fox.
"She's right, Fox. Maybe we'll be back for you."
The President started for the doorway and then pulled up. "What about the man with the submachine gun?" he asked Selina.
"Shout for help. He won't expect that. I'll take care of him, while you hold the little girl," she replied. She noticed that her voice sounded a hell of lot surer about things than she felt.
The President nodded, taking the little girl and sweeping her up into his arms. "It'll be all right, sweetheart," he whsipered. Then opened the door and shouted, "Help! Help us in here -- hurry!"
The President stepped back as Selina stood beside the door.
When the doorway burst open she had counted ten seconds.
The man with the machine gun stood stock-still in the doorway for an instant, his eyes wide in surprise. But before he could react, Selina's fist shot him in the nose, spraying blood everywhere. His body crumpled to the floor and Selina kicked him in the head three times to make sure he stayed down. The President, still holding the little girl in his arms, snatched up the submachine gun.
Selina started to search the unconscious man for weapons. She found another pistol and eighteen loose rounds of ammo for it.
"You know how to handle a submachine gun, Mr President?" she asked.
"I was a PT boat commander in the Navy. We never had to use one of those."
"Think you could use a revolver?"
"Yes."
She nodded, feeling her nun's veil move as she did, not having the time to play with the pins that held it to her hair. She stood up and passed one of the pistols and the machine gun through the bars to the man the President had called "Paranoid" Fox. "Agent Fox -- there's a nice champagne with your name -- maybe this will help you." On neither of the two men had there been handcuff keys.
Stasser wasn't going anywhere except to see a doctor in an emergency room. Martin would eventually wake up with a mountain-size headache and blurred vision.
She started back to the door, taking the child back into her arms. "You'll have to run with us," she said soothingly. "Can you be a brave girl?"
The little girl sniffed back a tear and looked into Selina's eyes.
"I knew you could be. I bet you like cats, too." Selina smiled, then kissed the child's forehead. She set the girl down, and handed the President the pistol and the spare rounds of ammo. "Don't waste it, Mr President," she said.
"Shouldn't you be armed, miss?"
"Never use them," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
He nodded solemnly. "I'll hold the girl's hand -- you might need both of yours to put some more of these thugs out of commission. You seem to be very good at it."
Selina nodded back.
With the President of the United States beside her, the little girl between them, Selina Kyle started ahead.
To be continued ...
