Batman 1939: Swimming in the Styx
Chapter 16: Contrapasso
Several days later. Buenos Aries, Argentina.
Diana arrived at Buenos Aries alone in the early evening, passed through customs with no trouble, and stayed the night at a hotel in the city. Here in Argentina she was widowed heiress Elizabeth Holloway Byrne of the Miami Byrnes. Diana soon decided that people just called her Lizzie. She practiced her new identity with porters, receptionists, waiters, maids, and anyone else obliged to listen to her. The plumbing, currency, and electric fixtures were different from the American varieties to which she had grown accustomed, but she was an experienced traveler now and learned the new ways without much trouble.
A black Mercedes picked Diana up from her hotel the next afternoon. She had heard that Mercedes was a German manufacturer. Several were in America. While her conception of Man's World was no longer so misguided that she believed all nations were at war with every other nation all the time, it seemed strange to her that a nation could trade a precious machine like an automobile one year and fight that nation the next. Apparently, this sort of pattern repeated itself several times a century. One might as well sell a rival spears and arrowheads. Perhaps this Mr. Mercedes was unusually altruistic and worldly. Perhaps he crafted his machines in secret. If so, he was very courageous to put his name on them. Granted, perhaps cars were not so special. Honestly, Diana had no idea how cars worked. This fact had shamed her until she learned that many people in Man's World had no idea either.
Diana's mind wandered, and she recalled a conversation she had with Steve from before she left.
"We'll have to arrive separately, of course. We don't know each other. Don't stare at me. Don't approach me."
"Never?"
"I'll introduce myself in the first half hour. Just stay casual."
"What if I see Der Wehrwolf?"
"If you see Salazar, keep your distance. Stay away from him and anyone you see talking to him."
"How are we supposed to learn of him from a distance?"
"I'll decide our play when we get there, but don't try anything until we discuss it."
"Then what should I do before we meet?"
"Relax. Work the room awhile."
"Work a room?"
"You know, get a drink. Grab some hors d'oeuvres. Have a few dances."
"I ask the men and women to dance?"
"Just the men, but no, you don't need to ask. They'll come to you."
"Men will ask me to dance?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"No."
"Well, they will. I guarantee it."
"I don't know Man's dances."
"Watch a few. No one's going to care if you mess up."
"What if someone tries to speak to me?"
"Everyone there speaks Spanish. Tell them you don't, and eventually they'll leave you alone."
"How do I tell them this if they speak Spanish?"
"Just say 'no hablo español'. That means you don't speak Spanish."
"No hablo español?"
"That's right."
"But if I say I don't speak Spanish ... in Spanish ... won't I be seen as a liar?"
"Don't worry about it. No one expects Americans to know anything. It's great. Just remember: your husband just died. You never saw much of him anyway. You're bored. Nothing impresses you since you're used to the finer things in life. Maybe you're a bit snobbish, a bit stuck-up."
"No I'm not!"
"Hey, hey, it's an act. Like theater. Don't they have theater where you're from?"
"Yes! But I have never acted."
"Then get ready for your debut."
The drive to the party was a two hour trip through the countryside. Diana was eager to practice more of her infantile Spanish with the chauffeur, but Steve had told her that now was the time to finish getting into character, and Lizzie wouldn't deign to speak with mere chauffeurs. Diana decided she didn't like Lizzie very much.
At least the scenery was lovely. She passed many ranches and horse farms. Diana had never seen so many animals. It reminded her of rural Virginia, but here the plains were more vast and wild.
Finally, the Mercedes pulled into the estate of a great stone villa on a hill. The host was some government official. Diana knew certain Americans would be suspicious that a civil servent owned such a property, but she was the child of an absolute monarch and didn't see an issue. Even before the main building came into sight, Diana could hear music across the expansive lawn. They passed a long row of parked cars, a most-wanted list of global brands, though this was lost on her.
She was driven to the villa's front door and the chauffeur graciously helped her out of her seat. She nodded primly and self-consciously brushed down the front of her dress. It was red and knee-length and had some sort of ruffling along the skirt. They told her it would help her fit in, and she supposed it did. Mostly she felt awkward. Mostly it itched. At least it matched her shoes.
Diana showed her invitation at the door and was ushered inside through the front hall to a lavish ballroom. There were at least seventy guests here in dresses and tuxedos, along with wandering servers, a live band, and a dozen soldiers in shining uniforms standing at attention along the walls. Diana marveled at the chandeliers and marble sculptures, then remembered that a savvy socialite like Lizzie wouldn't stand in an enterance and marvel at furnishings. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her gawking. More than a few guests nearby had their eye on her, but they didn't seem unwelcoming.
Indeed, she hadn't been in the room ten seconds when a self-assured young gentleman with slick hair approached her with a grin and asked something in rapid Spanish. She squinted and leaned forward, struggling to make sense of him. He put his arm around her and tried to lead her to the dance floor. Diana flinched and raised her hands.
"Ah! Mucho lo siento, sir. Very lo siento, uh, pero no hablo español."
The man looked amused and continued trying to lead her to the floor. Diana sidestepped and shoved the man's arm away. She glared at him. "Mucho gracias, lo siento, por favor."
The man rubbed his arm and retreated, and several other men who had eyed the exchange decided to keep their distance. Diana brushed down her dress again and made a slow lap around the crowd. Ignoring the language, it was much like an American party, though the fashion, food, and music were a little unfamiliar, and the men possessed many more mustaches.
Quite a few more men tried to speak with her or bring her drinks, sometimes in groups, sometimes while they were already with a lady. Diana practiced poliety rebuffing them. She didn't mind talking, and a few even offered a smattering of English, but eventually they all wanted to dance, and the sort of dancing she saw was intimidating.
Diana was making her third lap of the room and beginning to feel lost when a voice behind her said, "Hey there."
Diana spun. "St-!" The man silenced her with an intense stare. "I mean ... who are you, good sir?"
Captain Steven Trevor smiled cordially. "John Gibbons, journalist."
Diana responded, " Elizabeth Holloway Byrne, non-journalist. My friends call me Lizzie."
"Are we friends?"
"We could be."
"Well Lizzie, it's nice to meet someone here from the States. I got roots back in Houston. How about you?"
"That's a long story."
"Can I get the short version?"
"Miami."
"Neat."
"You look good in a regular suit. Would you like to join me for a drink, John?"
"I'd love nothing more. What do you mean a 'regular' suit?"
"I mean ... nothing. Just a black suit. Just a regular suit. Black tie. Yes, good. Boutonniere."
"Right."
They moved to one of the open bars and Steve ordered them drinks. He leaned in to her ear. "How do you feel so far?"
"Good! I think. This is strange."
"Yep."
"Have I made errors?"
"None that I noticed. It's an easy role, just keep playing it. You're doing fine."
"I haven't seen Carlos Salazar."
"He's over there." Steve subtly gestured to a gentleman in the middle of the ballroom floor. He was a balding figure with a large nose dancing enthusiastically against a young woman.
Steve hissed, "Don't stare too long, okay?"
Diana glanced away. "He does not look like his photograph."
"Well, diplomatic portraits tend to make people look a little dead. The tango tends to do the opposite."
"The what?"
"The tango. That's this dance. It was invented here."
"In this party?"
"In Argentina. They're crazy for it."
"It seems very..."
"Passionate?"
"Friction-y."
"Yep, lot of friction. Got to be nimble. Want to give it a shot?"
"I, uh-"
"Unless you don't think you can handle it."
"I didn't say that."
"And it's the best way for us to get a better look at Salazar."
"But I don't know this tango."
"I'll show you."
"You know it?"
"I know all sorts of things." He offered his hand.
Diana soon discovered that Steve was a very good tango dancer, and he wasn't a bad teacher either. They found an empty corner of the floor, starting slow but gradually picking up speed as he introduced new steps and turns. Diana, of course, was blessed with the grace of Aphrodite and the balance of Artemis and proved an adept student.
Soon, they were trotting toward the center of the room, and when the next piece started, the pair easily kept pace with the crowd. The music carried far, but they were close enough to hold a conversation.
Diana's breath was just beginning to pick up, more from concentration than exhaustion. "Where did you learn to do this?"
Steve chuckled. "You mean, where did the big corn-fed Army grunt learn to dance?"
"I didn't say that."
"It was a joke. Actually, when I was seventeen, there was a tango performed at this community center event. I didn't go, but my mother went and told me afterward that only floozies and loose women danced the tango. So after boot camp, I found a dance school and learned it."
"Why?"
"To meet floozies and loose women."
"I don't know what those mean."
"Don't worry about it."
"How am I doing?"
"Really good. If I were you, I would have tripped over my feet five times by now."
"You teach well!"
"Thanks. I've never danced with someone taller than me."
"Does that challenge you?"
"A little. Maybe next time I'll show you how to lead. For now, let's angle toward this Salazar character. And keep mum. No need for him to hear us sounding like Yanks."
Diana nodded. "Sí."
They carefully tangoed across the floor, picking their way closer to their target. Soon, they were only two couples away, and Steve navigated to stay in the diplomat's blindspot.
Diana whispered in Steve's ear, "Can you recognize a Nazi spy by how he dances?"
He whispered back, "No."
"Then what do we look for?"
"For now I have no idea. He's been out here a while. When he takes a break, I'll improvise."
So they continued to tango, with Diana showing steady improvement by the minute. However, their performance was beginning to draw attention, and when the band started a new piece, a short woman of early middle age with blushed cheeks elbowed Diana aside and grabbed Steve around the hips. She looked him in the eye, straining her neck to do so, and slurred, "Oy, gringo, este baile es para mí."
Diana was too surprised to speak and stood there with her mouth slightly open. Steve looked supremely discomforted and shrugged at Diana. By the time Diana crossed her arms and thought of something to say, the rhythem had picked up again and Steve was swept away by his new partner. Diana knew that she couldn't march through the dancers and take her partner back by force, or rather, she absolutely could, easily, but she shouldn't because it would make a scene. Diana instead moved to escape the dance floor, trying her best to move her shoulders in a dance-like fashion as she walked alone though the couples.
Near the edge of the dancers, an older man with a neat white beard approached her. He grasped her hand and bowed to kiss it. When Diana pulled her hand away, she realized that she was holding a rose.
The man bowed again and said, "Hola mi hermosa flor, puedo saber tu nombre?" His voice had a deep, wispy quality.
Diana was taken aback, still trying to figure out how he had slipped her a flower. "Uh, uh. Nobre? Uh, Dia- no, Lizzie."
The man smiled like he had smelled something delicious. "Ah. Dianolizzie. Perfecto." He put his hand humbly to his chest. "Mi nombre es Juan. Podemos tango?"
"Um. Okay."
Juan clapped. "Excelente!" He took Diana's hand and began the dance so swiftly that she dropped her rose. Juan was a superb dancer, and Diana was beginning to enjoy herself as she kept an eye out for Steve. The piece ended and another man immediately cut in. Juan stepped back with a courteous bow. "Adiós, Dianolizzie." Her new partner didn't bother to introduce himself and was not half as skilled, but Diana ignored him and continued her search.
During one elaborate spin she saw Carlos Salazar leave the ballroom to a nearby hallway. On the next dip, she glanced upside-down and saw Steve following briskly behind. Diana was nothing if not intrepid, and when her partner transitioned into a poorly-balenced turn, she let go of him and didn't look back as she heard him stumble into another couple. "Lo siento, por favor!"
Diana walked to the hallway and saw Steve rounding a corner at the end. She sped into a jog and quickly caught up. To her surprise, Steve was waiting just around the corner looking angry. She came a rapid stop.
He shushed her and hissed, "Quiet!"
She looked past him. Salazar wasn't there. She whispered back, "Where did he go?"
"Second door on the left. Probably a bathroom. Why are you here?"
"I saw you chasing our prey and wanted to back you up! How did you know it was me?"
"You have loud footsteps."
"I can't run silently in these heels!"
"Then don't run in them. Listen, we can't be seen together. Find another path back to the party. Stay inconspicuous."
"Shouldn't we be spying?"
"No, it's- It's not that important. We're not going to learn a jot from a bathroom trip."
"Then how will we?"
"I don't know. If it wasn't clear before, this is a shot in the dark, okay? Most surveillance missions are gambles. That's the nature of the job-" They heard footsteps coming from the party. Steve instantly started saying something in Spanish and laughing. A fat man turned the corner and ambled past them. When he was gone, Steve dropped the act and continued, "We play this defensive. If our target lets something slip, then great! if not, we go home empty-handed. Okay?
"But this mission is to save America!"
Steve rubbed his eyes and looked past her. "Yeah, they say that. All missions are to save America. America can survive a little longer without us being reckless. This mission is not crucial. Get going!"
"Nazis are bad!"
"But he might be innocent. Unless you can read his mind in secret."
At that remark, Diana looked at him more intensely. Steve could almost see the light bulb shine over her head. He sighed. "What?"
"Come!"
Diana slipped off her shoes and tossed them behind a suit of armor. She jogged to the second door on the left. There was a sign next to it that read, "Baño de hombres." Before Steve could stop her, Diana tried the knob. It was locked, and an irritated voice inside barked, "Ocupado!" Steve grimaced and tried to pull her away. She turned and looked him in the eye. There was hardly an inch between them.
"Do you trust me?" she whispered.
"Y- No! No."
"Good. Stand back."
There was a console table nearby with a bowl of fruit on top. The bowl was sitting on a white cloth. Diana lifted the bowl and stole the cloth, stretching it between her hands. Steve watched this in silent incredulity. She hid beside the door, next to the hinges so she couldn't be seen when it opened. Against every better judgement, Steve crouched beside her.
Eventually they heard the sound of flushing inside. Moments later the door opened, and Carlos Salazar walked out. Before he took two steps, Diana reached around the door and caught Salazar's head in the tablecloth. He made a muffled yell and grasped at her hands, but Diana pulled the ends tight, cinching the cloth against his face like a bag. She tugged him close against her and quickly dragged him into the bathroom. Furious and terrified, Steve followed. While Steve locked the door, Diana shoved Salazar against a wall and deftly tied the ends of the cloth into an effective knot. Then she reached around and lifted a corner of the cloth over his mouth and nose, keeping the rest a blindfold. He started yelling again, so she quickly stuffed a hand towel into his mouth and dropped him to the tile floor. Then, with some difficulty, she rolled him over and pulled his tuxedo jacket half-off so the arms were trapped in the sleeves like an impromptu straitjacket.
Steve checked the room. It was a well-appointed private restroom: classical frecos, potted plants, and a glazed window. The villa was large, and surely had several restrooms, but with nearly a hundred people on site, he was sure they'd be interrupted soon.
He whispered as quietly as he could in Diana's ear, "What now?"
Diana whispered back, "Hold him down. I can make him talk."
Steve's face went white. "We are not going to torture him."
"No. I have a way you haven't seen. With my armor."
"You don't have your armor here."
"Can you keep a secret?"
"Obviously."
"Then tell no one of this. Please!"
Before she could act, there was a knock at the door and a worried voice asked, "Estás bien?".
Diana seized Salazar's throat with enough pressure to gag him then answered in her deepest voice, "Ocupado!" The voice outside muttered, "Olvidalo." They heard footsteps move away. Diana released Salazar's throat and whispered in Steve's ear, "You must tell no one. I beg you."
Steve had no response to that, so he simply kept a hand over Salazar's mouth and watched Diana as she stood. Diana inspected the tiny bathroom to judge the space. Then she held her arms out to her sides and began to spin. She turned like a top, faster and faster. There was a flash of groovy technicolor light and in Diana's place stood Wonder Woman.
Wonder Woman looked down at Steve, expectant. Steve watched her dumbfounded. She took hold of her golden lasso and looped a bend of it around his hand. It glowed. She whispered to Steve again, "Now ask him our questions. Is he a spy for the Nazis?"
Steve, who was too shocked to register emotion at this point, shrugged and spoke to Salazar, then removed the towel from his mouth. Salazar struggled, trying to see her through the opaque table cloth, but finally answered.
Steve nodded and whispered back. "He said yes."
Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes and nodded. "Ask if he is Der Wehrwolf?"
Steve spoke to Salazar again then reported, "He says he isn't. But we have no way to know if he's lying."
Wonder Woman shook her head. "I don't believe he's lying. Ask him who Der Wehrwolf could be if it isn't him."
Before Steve could relay the question, they were interrupted again. The guest on the other side was more insistent this time, whining and knocking again and again. Steve finally convinced the man to leave him alone. With the interruption gone, Steve asked Salazar about Der Wehrwolf. The discussion lasted almost a minute, with Salazar growing angry in a way that had nothing to do with being held captive. Finally, Steve told Wonder Woman, "He doesn't know. They both work for the Abwehr - that's Nazi intelligence - but he says they're rivals. Salazar has tried to ruin or steal Der Wehrwolf's operations several times, but so far Salazar's still playing second-fiddle in the region. His best guess is that Der Wehrwolf is stationed in the US. Probably the east coast. That's about all he knows."
Wonder Woman crossed her arms. "Disappointing. While we're here, what has Salazar done as a spy? Who are his contacts? What is his plan?"
This caused another long discussion. Much of what Salazar said was recited with the bored cadence of a grocery list, which disturbed Wonder Woman. However, in the middle of the talk they heard a pack of loud footsteps approaching outside. A heavy hand smacked the door.
"Salir ahora!"
Steve and Wonder Woman stared at each other. Salazar used this opportunity to yell, "Ayuda! Ayuda!" before Steve could gag him again. Someone kicked at the door. It shuddered, almost popping inward. Wonder Woman rose and placed her back to it, bracing herself. She pointed at the window. Steve hesitated. Another kick shattered wood around the doorknob, but Wonder Woman kept the door shut. Salazar continued to yell. Wonder Woman reached down and picked up a potted plant, chucking it at the window. Steve ducked. The clay pot shattered half the window. Wonder Woman pointed at it again, giving him a look that brooked no disagreement. Another kick bent the hinges and smacked the broken door against her back. Steve looked at the jagged hole in the windowpane, then turned the latch, opened the window the regular way, and climbed through it. She felt another impact, a shoulder this time. Wonder Woman wrapped the loose bend of her lasso and put it away. There was one last impact, and the hinges finally snapped off. The door tottered for a moment. Wonder Woman turned around, lifted her knee, and kicked the door outward.
The door cracked against the far wall and fell the floor. Two soldiers had been bowled over. A third man in a tuxedo stood to the side, stunned. Wonder Woman turned and leaped the eight feet through the broken window.
She ran. A stone hit her arm. Steve was hiding behind a hedge. She held on to him and in two jumps they ascended to the roof. Keeping low, they crossed to the other side of the villa and hopped down onto a second floor balcony. With a spin, Wonder Woman returned to her red dress, her hair again done up again in its stylish bob. Arm in arm, they entered what turned out to be a bedroom. Moments after they stepped inside, a soldier opened the door. He pointed at them and said something scolding. Steve chuckled and apologized, nodding at Diana with some saucy comment and an eyebrow wiggle. Diana didn't know what he said but slapped him. The soldier rolled his eyes and ordered them out of the room.
They were led back to the ballroom and left alone with a warning. The music was still playing, and several couples were still dancing, but the hum of conversation had fallen in some corners to a concerned mutter. Diana doubted anyone here had heard the yelling or the sounds of the door over the lively music, but there was some obvious commotion among the soldiers. She asked if they would stop the party and investigate the guests. Steve said he wasn't sure; that depended on several things: how professional were the guards, whether they believed the assailant was still on the property, whether a panic was a threat to the host's reputation, how much did they care about the victim, and whether there were any witnesses. Diana at least could answer this last point. She mentioned that a man did get a brief look at her. Steve looked perturbed but decided her appearance had changed enough to blend in.
Steve also considered that since Salazar was a spy, he might not want to draw attention to himself. He would want to get out quick before the questions came. Unless their Argentine hosts were part of his ring. That would be a very serious problem.
Diana asked about her shoes, and Steve told her she wouldn't be able to get them back. The hallway was doubtless swarming with security now. Bare feet weren't a smoking gun, especially after a long bout of dancing, so it wasn't urgent, but it was one more reason to leave before anyone paid too much attention to her. Anyway, he mused, extra height didn't do her anonymity any favors.
Steve went to ask the bar what folks had heard and whether they were allowed to leave. Diana found a unattached young man and simply offered, "Tango?" He agreed. On her second orbit of the floor, she passed a pair of large windowed doors leading to an expansive dining room. Inside, she spied Carlos Salazar arguing with several important-looking men and several soldiers.
Soon, Steve caught up with her and begged the next dance. When they started dancing again, he told her, "The guards have blocked the exit, saying they're cleaning up an accident in the front hall. It's not an excuse that will hold for long. They'll either open up soon or stop the party and grill everyone. Now we wait."
"Carlos Salazar is in that dining room."
"Yeah?" Steve peered in its direction. "Well, now's not the time to ask what exactly you did to him-"
"You promised you would the secret!"
"Yeah, Diana, I will. Fine. We'll talk about that later, but we need to get the information back to the States pronto."
"What did he say he had done?"
Steve gave a rueful whistle. "You name it. Reporting navel movement on the Atlantic seaboard. Finding landing beaches for submarines. Coordinating spies in munitions plants. Meeting gangs and rebels across Latin America. Planting listening posts in the Caribbean. Running a black market for war goods in Spain. They even asked him to start a list of Jewish and Gypsy communities there. 'Just in case', as he put it."
"Can we ask Argentina to arrest him now?"
"No. Even if we had proof, he's got diplomatic immunity. He'd be kicked to Spain."
"Can we ask Spain?"
"Sure, but it won't do any good. For all we know, Franco's in on it."
"So he will get away!"
"Worse, now we've tipped him off. He'll reshuffle all the projects he spilled. Or his replacement will if his bosses learn he's been made. Steve shook his head. "Geez, Diana, what were you thinking? There's a reason we do this slow. Best case scenario, we've set him back a few months. And we won't get another easy crack at him. Way to go."
Diana continued to tango as fiercely as before, but she wouldn't meet his eye. Steve assumed her expression was sullen, but she was actually deep in thought.
Finally she asked, "These agents of Abwehr are in competition?"
"Best as we can tell, the whole Nazi leadership is a game of King of the Hill. And now we know they're serious enough to sabotage each other."
"Hmm. Salazar has many secrets. He would make it difficult for other agents to take his work."
"I guess."
"And he might even hide knowledge from his leaders."
"Probably. Until they force him. What do you have in mind?"
"And surely no servant would know all his schemes?"
"You better tell me what you're thinking, Diana."
She finally looked him in the eye. It was a predatory thing. "You said he will run and and cover his plans, and thus will only be delayed some months."
"If he's good."
"He is the center of a great net. If he is not present to warn the many threads, no one else will, as we know he hides them jealousy. Without him, our forces could snip the exposed threads with ease, or they will break on their own. It will be chaos greater than any mere delay."
"Look, we have no clue how his assets will react if he goes silent. Besides, there's no way to convince him to switch sides today, unless you're also a hypnotist."
"I am not."
"Then get your mind back on track. Please. We have to get out of here."
They passed the dining room again. An attendant was bringing Salazar his hat and cane. Diana grew stiff, her steps even more agressive. Steve was struggling to keep pace. Diana spoke, almost philosophically. "He is a wicked man with no fear of justice. The world is poorer for him."
Steve didn't respond to this. He had trouble understanding her at the best of times. He was busy making plans. He was nervous. He was scared. He was tired of keeping the mission straight. And doing the tango with Diana Prince in that dress was as distracting as a brick to the head.
They turned and saw Salazar crossing the ballroom, two soldiers trailing at a polite distance. Diana wouldn't take her eyes off of him. She was an animal. Steve realized in one chilling instant that their path would bring them within yards of the man. And her words finally rang with an unmistakable intent.
He held her close and begged. "Don't."
She twisted away, keeping at full arm's length, barely holding his hand. He pulled her back and turned both of them toward another wall. Salazar was at ten paces. She stepped over his leading leg and crossed ahead of him, a move he hadn't taught her. Salazar was at eight paces. He turned again and reeled her in, her back against his chest, his hand on her waist, her hand on his neck.
He begged again. "Please."
Salazar was at five paces. Diana leaned ahead. Steve pulled a little derringer pistol out of his jacket and pressed the cold metal against her lower back. Her lips parted, but she made no noise. Salazar crossed their made to step forward.
A soldier's job was to follow orders and shoot. Captain Steven Trevor wasn't the most disciplined soldier in the Army, nor the shrewdest. Yet he was sent alone on sensitive missions again and again because when the chips were down, Captain Trevor was very good at his job.
He used her momentum to lead her in a sudden twirl, then guided her down in a low dip. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. A bead of sweat dripped off his brow and landed on her lips.
He brought her up, then aimed past her and shot Carlos Salazar.
