Villainy Inc.
May 30, 1942
Priscilla Rich had been swaddled in luxury from the moment of her birth, part of a dynasty that stretched back to the founding of the country. She wanted for nothing, worked for nothing. Yet, even in the gilded halls of the upper crust, it meant something to be a woman. It meant being lesser.
While her father and brother Albert possessed freedom the likes of which the average American could only dream of, Priscilla, like her mother before her, was raised to be a proper girl. Social graces were drilled into her. She was made to dance, to sing, to be the very model of a companion and hostess. She prodded around the edges of her pretty cage, testing the bars. Priscilla learned to lie, to listen, to tease what she needed out from others. From men.
Still, it stung, how Albert was allowed to be blunt and reckless and ambitious. How he was rewarded for sharing his opinions. How he was the heir apparent to their fortunes in spite of his younger status. Priscilla was confined to being a nice decoration, possibly one that could be married off. Her father was so assured in his own superiority, that he failed to see his daughter's talents.
Albert's car crash changed things. As did her father's stroke. Priscilla was now the forefront of the Rich family, the master of its destiny. In spite of that, she had to maintain her subtlety. The kind of men that she spent time with were not interested in seeing a woman flaunt her power. So she remained demure. Charming. Agreeable. Content to throw her parties and support her charities without making a fuss. It was the work behind the scenes that assured her status, an endless stream of blackmail and manipulation. When she grew frustrated with the tedium of such an approach, Priscilla drew pleasure from the knowledge that she was always the most powerful, most interesting woman in any room.
Until, Wonder Woman arrived and revealed how small Priscilla had been all this time. The Amazon made no accounting for her gender, her role, her natural place in the hierarchy. She stood tall, refused to play by men's rules. Acted as though there was no game to be played at all. And they loved her for it.
They loved her in a manner they never would grant Priscilla. It was this revelation that drove her to violence. She burned through more money than most would see in a lifetime searching for someone that had anything real to offer her. A disgraced explorer that brought her to the altar of the hunt, where tooth and claw could make the world right again. To the Cheetah.
Priscilla had imagined her hatred for Wonder Woman had reached its peak. Their last showdown had proved that false. Her foe had the gall to offer Priscilla mercy. In the clutches of the Injustice Society, defenseless before her claws, Wonder Woman could still make Priscilla small. Insignificant. Pitiable.
She would not, could not stand for it.
It was this fixation that kept her awake, staring at the ceiling of her prison cell. This bout was less troubling than the last, the cramped quarters of her "dorm," an expected reality. Her fellow prisoners did not bother her, kept at bay by fear of the Cheetah. Few were incarcerated for violent offenses, being mainly composed of drunks, frauds, prostitutes, thieves and other petty criminals. Still, force had its say in their affairs and Priscilla was fortunate to be considered too much of a threat to mess with. Her powers had waned without the costume and the impetus for their use. She remained more powerful than any ordinary human, but an escape attempt was out of her grasp. For now.
The days were governed by menial tasks. Sewing, cleaning, and all those domestic chores that Priscilla had spent her life avoiding. She despised it. The matrons that ran the place spoke of reformation. Of how they could rejoin society. It was drivel, aimed at the fearful, weak herds that lived beside her. The Cheetah would not submit.
It was in the midst of these violent fantasies that a mote of red light ambled down the cellblock. It was a disturbance, one that should have elicited a response from the others. Only silence accompanied its approach. As she sat up to better appreciate the light, keys were inserted into her cell door, the lock twisting and relenting. The door swung open.
One of the matrons, an older one with a crooked nose and a nasally voice held her cell door open. Her eyes were drooped over, only slivers of white peeking out. It was her companion that was the real surprise. The light was a compact bundle of red flame, hovering beside the matron, emitting no heat. The halls were empty beside them.
"Come. Come with me," said the mote.
Priscilla ignored the strangeness of the situation, following the flame as it drifted back through the prison. The other women were in their cells, asleep or in a fugue. The guards and matrons were the same. Each barrier, each door was unlocked, all the way to the outer gate. Priscilla awaited the sudden twist, the revelation that this was nothing more than a cruel joke, one that led her back to captivity.
Instead, what she found at the end of it was a woman in a red bodysuit, leaning against the hood of a car. The flame dissipated when it reached her. She appeared unsurprised to see Priscilla.
"In here," she said, opening the car door. "We don't have long. Zara and Hypnota's work will not last forever."
Priscilla did as instructed. The woman got in the driver's seat, taking them away from the prison. Priscilla took the opportunity to slip the knitting needle from her waistband and place the point below the woman's jugular.
"This may not be sharp, but I can still drive it through your throat," she said.
"That won't be necessary," said the woman, unbothered by the threat.
"You're going to take me where I tell you to go," said Priscilla.
The woman made an easy turn, her hands casually sliding over the wheel. The scent of fear was not on her. "I think not. The others are waiting for you. The least you can do is meet them. They did just break you out of captivity after all," said the woman.
"The others?"
"You'll find you have a great deal in common with them. With me."
"Namely?"
"We are exceptionally invested in killing Wonder Woman."
July 14, 1942
The music of the Holliday Girls swept across the sea of people packed into the gymnasium, freshly converted into a USO Center. The dance floor was composed of servicemen and the prim junior hostesses that swayed along with them, some with more grace than others, as Diana observed many a stiff-legged dance partner jerk and stumble their way through the crowd. Older hostesses orbited the dance, making sure everything was kept chaste and respectable. It was only her affection for Etta and the other girls that kept her here, as she faced off with a number of her most implacable foes yet.
"I don't know why you're so worked up," said the short soldier with the thin blond hair. He was the most vocal of his group, no doubt compensating for his height, a common feature Diana had found in American men. "We were only talking."
"You spoke about my friends as though they were pieces of meat to be bought at a market," said Diana. She had overheard this group of soldiers discussing Etta and the others, ranking them.
"So dramatic. You always talk like this?" said the short one.
His companion, a lanky man with a buzzed head. "I think she's just jealous we weren't talking about her."
"No need to fear," said the third member of their group. He had slicked back, black hair and a thick jaw. "We can give you all the attention you need."
In many ways this whole display was for their own benefit, not her. It was all about upholding one's image in front of their peers. An unfortunately common aspect of life outside of Themyscira. Diana tamped down the frustration building in her. She knit her brows. "Are you unable to see what you're doing is wrong?"
They stared at her as if she had started speaking another language. Diana continued.
"You're acting as though these women are less than you. As though they're merely objects to be divided up amongst one another."
"There's the dramatics again," said the short one.
"Now, now, why don't we discuss this elsewhere," said the black haired soldier. He took a step closer, reaching to take Diana's arm. She caught his hand by the wrist.
"I gave no indication I wished for you to touch me," said Diana, letting him go, his eyes wider from the speed of her reaction. The others had similar faces. She braced herself for the inevitable escalation. So often men felt they had no choice but to protect their pride in front of their peers. It was a crude, primitive way of maintaining social status, largely alien to her upbringing. This was the violence that lingered in the wake of so many men in this country, in this world. This coiled, anxious desire to lash out. It would be one thing to confine it to this hall, this gathering place of killers in the making, but it ranged far beyond these walls.
"What's your problem you crazy broad?" said the black haired man.
"She ain't from here. You can tell with that wild accent," said the short man.
"Think it might be time for you to move on," said the lanky one.
Diana avoided their gaze. "I am staying until my friends are done. You are welcome to find somewhere else to lurk."
The black haired man began to walk toward her again as Diana prepared for whatever form this foolishness was to take when another voice cut through the space between them.
"What are you doing private?" said an officer.
The black haired man stopped abruptly. "I..we were having a conversation with this girl."
The officer gave a quick glance to Diana, having clearly seen enough. "Conversation's done. Move along." He shifted his gaze to the other two. "All of you."
The trio walked off as the officer addressed Diana. "Are you one of the junior hostesses?"
"No."
"Then why are you here?" said the officer with the same disdain he gave to the soldiers.
Before she could reply, a blond man in a neat black suit sidled up to them. "Oh, there you are Sylvia. I lost you in the crowd."
"Is this woman with you?" said the officer.
"She is. Isn't that right Delores?" said the man to an elegant and bored woman beside him.
"Hmm….yes, yes that's right," said Delores, without much commitment.
"Have a pleasant evening then," said the officer, leaving them.
The blond man shot Diana a beaming grin. There was a lightness to him that made him stand apart from the others in the gymnasium. "Apologies for the interruption. I overheard how those fellows were bothering you and how you set them straight. I thought it would be positively unjust if you were kicked out." He extended a hand. "Carver Colman."
Diana shook his hand. Her response must have been inadequate because Carver immediately followed up by saying, "The actor. Nathaniel Dusk. Some other things. I'm working with Fritz Lang later this year."
"Ah. I don't see movies that often," said Diana.
"Then may I introduce you to Delores Winters. A fine member of my profession." Delores nodded to Diana, her icy blue eyes giving away little.
"A pleasure," said Delores.
The finished exchanging pleasantries. Carver was pulled off by a group of fans amongst the junior hostesses and soldiers, leaving Diana and Delores alone. She was impressed by the way the actress shrouded herself in disinterest, built a shield between herself and the world Many eyes fell upon her, but Diana would be surprised if any had the courage to make an attempt.
"Your friend is particularly gregarious," said Diana.
"Carver's like a puppy. Always looking for someone to pet him," said Delores. "You have any interest in acting?"
"Excuse me?" said Diana.
"You've got the looks for it. A little tall. And that accent might limit your roles till you smooth it out. But, you're exotic enough, without scaring anyone. I could introduce you to a few producers and directors,"said Delores.
Diana was a bit taken aback. "A kind proposal, but an unnecessary one." She had enjoyed being in plays on Paradise Island with her friends, but it had never been a calling.
"Suit yourself," said Delores.
"Does it trouble you? The attention?" said Diana, gesturing to the men staring at her. Or pretending not to stare, lest they upset their dance partners.
"I would be upset if there wasn't any. My image is everything."
"Doesn't that feel diminishing?"
Delores shrugged noncommittally. "We can't all be as confrontational as you. This way is easier"
"What about equality?"
That drew a laugh from Delores. And the full attention of her chilly eyes. "Please. Their equal? I'm their superior."
"So long as they don't know it," said Diana.
"I can't place that accent. Sounds Greek, but then there's bits of Turkish and Persian or perhaps Egyptian thrown in. But, I know that you're from somewhere far from her if you think women like us have the luxury of being hung up on some abstract notion of equality. Let them imagine themselves to be my better, so long as they give me what I want."
Walking away from the gymnasium with Etta, who was still basking in the glow of her performance, Diana couldn't shake Delores's words from her mind. Her time apart from Themyscira had been a shock in many ways, but the treatment of women remained one of the most glaring parts of it. She was afraid that the actress was right. That this was not a world that would tolerate resistance to its order. That freedom was only available to the individual and only within the bounds of that system.
"You there Diana?" said Etta.
Diana shook herself free from her thoughts. "Yes, yes...I don't mean to drift off. You were saying they wanted the band for another performance?" She had decided to spare her the details of her confrontation.
"Yep. This one'll be at the stadium. They're having a big show."
"That's wonderful Etta," said Diana, patting her friend's shoulder.
Etta smiled briefly, but Diana caught it fading a little too soon. "Is there something troubling you?"
"There was a lady backstage after the show. She was there talking to the hostesses about the wack."
"The wack?"
"The W-A-A-C. Women's Auxiliary Army Corps. It's a way for women to do their part for the military. Beyond this USO stuff," said Etta.
They continued down the street back towards the dorms at Holliday University, past a number of servicemen and hostesses who had ducked from the venue to get more intimate away from prying eyes. The night breeze provided a nice contrast to the stuffy warmth of the gym.
"You're considering it?" said Diana.
"I like singing with the girls. It's grand. But...I think that I could do more. That I owe more," said Etta. "This isn't the only route I've thought of. There's been job postings for gals to get work at the shipyard. And the factories. Now that more of the men are heading overseas we have to pick up the slack."
The division of labor amongst certain swaths of the population. Another strange aspect of America, with many forms of labor deemed unfit for women. At least for women of a certain class.
"A noble intent," said Diana.
There was something more beneath Etta's reticence. Something marked by embarrassment. Diana didn't want to press it here.
"Diana?" called a man's voice behind them. One that halted her immediately.
"A fan of yours?" said Etta. "One of those ones that was bothering you.?"
"No..Steve."
Etta blinked. "That Steve?"
Steve Trevor jogged towards them. All the hypothetical versions of this encounter, all the practice runs, vanished from Diana's mind the moment he reached her.
"Sorry if I surprised you," he said, catching his breath. "I was sure I saw you back at the show."
He grinned at Diana, before greeting Etta. "Didn't mean to be rude. I'm Steve Trevor. Captain, U.S. Air Force.
"I've heard about you," said Etta, flicking her eyes towards Diana. She could also tell that Steve was unsure of how much Etta knew about who she really was.
Etta made the first move. "I'll see you back at the dorm, Diana," she said, heading off before anyone could protest.
Steve and Diana shared a quiet breath as a coastal mist slunk inland, the light from nearby streetlights cascading through it. She had wondered if a reunion would drive a crack through the image of him that graced her dreams. Reality did not disappoint, though it made what came next more difficult.
"What are you doing here Steve?" said Diana. She winced at the unintentional harshness of the question, while his smile dropped a notch.
"I'm in Gateway on an assignment. You know how it is," he said. The secrecy that could shroud his work. The kind of work that leads a man to wash up on an island that shouldn't exist. "I've got a few friends that are stationed here. They insisted on coming to the dancehall. I saw you on your way out. You're living around here, I take it?"
Diana nodded. "I am."
"As a normal person?"
"Diana Prince."
He chuckled. "That's clever."
"Etta came up with it. She's been good for me."
The fog was all around them now, an insulating cloud that blurred out the world around them. They might as well be the only ones left in Gateway, under the light.
"I've missed you Diana," said Steve. "I've missed you more than you can imagine."
She caught her voice before it could leave her throat. Before she could tell him about how long she had waited to see him again, how much she had yearned to reach out to him since their last time together all those months ago. Instead, Diana waited in silence, counting their breaths.
Steve took a step closer. He was shivering slightly. "I still don't know why you left," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Diana backed away. "We're better apart. It's safer. For you."
Steve paused. "If it was because I got hurt…"
"It was about more than that."
Steve's expression was pained. Diana had struck true. He had to have considered it after all these months. Whatever silent betrayal lay between them.
"Diana…"
"Be well Steve Trevor." She left the ground, floating off into the sky, unsure whether the moisture that clung to her face was the mist or her tears.
July 16, 1942
"I do apologize for Kent's absence; he's in the midst of a battle against a sect of color-draining vampires. I understand if he fails we may lose the concept of blue."
Inza Cramer said these words with no more weight than one would make passing observations on the weather. She was far more preoccupied with preparing drinks for herself and her guests.
"Are you sure you won't have anything Diana?" said Inza.
"I am sure."
"We have a few drinks that could get even you tipsy," said Inza.
"Oh, let it be," said Dian Belmont, lounging on the couch.
"Her loss," said Inza, carrying over the refreshments. They were in a fashionable apartment in Gateway, one of Wesley's secondary residences or so Diana understood. He was not here, instead being represented by his partner, Dian, a formidable woman with short brown hair and quick eyes. Inza settled into a seat across from Diana, her wavy, red hair falling over her shoulders.
"Shall we begin?" said Diana.
Inza wagged a finger as she sipped from her beverage. "No need to rush things, my dear. Let us enjoy ourselves."
"But…"
"There will be plenty of time for business. Enjoy the moment. I'm sure it's rare you have time for yourself," said Inza.
Dian nodded. "She's right you know. I imagine your life here is largely running from one crisis to the next."
"Not always," said Diana, thinking of Etta, of her friends. It was a small reprieve, but a reprieve nonetheless. Still, it she understood what they meant. It was rare to be with others who understood the life on a more intimate level.
The three women chatted about everything and nothing. Inza and Dian traded tales of their time spent alongside Kent and Wesley respectively, as well as Inza's studies and Dian's work with charity organizations. They eventually turned the conversation to Diana, keen as they were to learn about her homeland.
"And it's entirely women?" said Dian.
"Indeed."
"Entirely?" said Dian, raised an eyebrow. Inza shared a conspiratorial look with her that Diana caught.
"Men are forbidden from living on the island. So it was decreed by the goddesses when they granted us our home."
"Sounds like a tempting place to live," said Inza.
Dian leaned forward, off the sofa, drink in hand. "What of...intimate relationships? Are those a thing on this Themyscira?"
There it was. Diana had quickly learned, first from Steve, then from others in America who inquired about her people, that there was a less accepting view of relations between individuals of the same gender. In this country it was largely outlawed. Yet, Dian's question bore little of the mounting disgust, transgressive voyeurism, or mocking tone that characterized previous discussions of the subject.
"We are a land governed by love. Of course there are intimate relationships."
"Did you have someone back there?" said Dian.
Kasia. Poor Kasia. A flower that could not bloom. "I did." Diana's tone did not invite further inquiry.
"Fascinating," Inza interjected. "I imagine a society of all women would have no conception of anything else."
"There are those who recall the time before. My mother, for instance," said Diana. "She does not miss it."
Inza laughed. "I don't blame her. Were it not for Kent, I'd have half a mind to seek the place out for myself," she said playfully. "What?" she continued, reacting to Dian's expression, "I've had a few special friendships myself."
Euphemisms. So common in man's world. Always a way to avoid stating the truth outright.
"Your little outfit of heroes appears to pick up a number of folks with similar predilections. Maybe its the costumes," said Inza. Diana was not sure of everyone Inza was referring to, but she had her suspicions.
"Themyscira does sound like a wonderful place. It was mighty brave of you to leave it," said Dian.
Diana had grown weary of such praise. The gnawing homesickness that lingered took its toll. "I hope to see it again someday. Perhaps you could join me. I am already sworn to take Shiera and Dinah."
"That's a delightful idea."
"Save room for me," said Inza. She reached out towards the counter, where the bottle of alcohol awaited, appearing to beckon it. The bottle obeyed her command, floating to her waiting grasp.
"Kent has been tutoring me in his ways," she explained as she poured a fresh round. "As luck would have it, I have the knack for it."
Dian hid it well, but Diana could tell she found this to be an unsettling display. Whatever oddities she witnessed working alongside Wesley, Inza's abilities surpassed them. "I see. I've become quite familiar with Wesley's equipment and techniques. He often jokes that if he needed a vacation he could simply have me thrown on the gas mask and no one would know the difference."
Diana wondered about this tiny subset of the populace. Not the costumed heroes themselves, but their allies. Their family and friends and lovers. Each member of the JSA had their own outgrowth of these people, some larger, some smaller. Diana had her own: Etta, the Holliday Girls, Steve.
The conversation wandered for a time, before Inza at last arrived at the real reason why Diana had come to see her. "Kahndaq."
"No need to worry, Diana. Kent and I have had many a discussion on this topic, so his absence need not be an impediment." She retrieved a bundled set of scrolls from her luggage, unfurling them on Dian's coffee table. The first one reminded Diana of the map that Shiera had shown her, only it was in an older language, the edges frayed from time.
"This is the valley," said Diana.
Inza ran her hands above the map. "This was said to be a paradise millennia ago. A home to the guardians of the region, the great champions of civilization. This hall of lightning. Kent speculated that this is why it was chosen to house the shard of the God's Teardrop."
"It's changed quite a bit, I understand," said Dian. "A desert now."
"Correct. Travel across Kahndaq is already difficult in the best of times, save for the Bedouins that brave the dunes. This valley is particularly isolated. Which is why it only has one known expedition in living memory."
"The Batsons," said Diana. Fellow archeologists according to Shiera. "They died during their travels."
"So they did, though not before documenting the current location. Finding the valley is not the hard part. Finding the temple, on the other hand," said Inza.
Inza pursed her lips. She shifted the map aside, in favor of another scroll, one in a language Diana had never seen. The script appeared to swim on the page. Dian blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes. "Is that?"
"It's real. I see it too. A defense mechanism. This describes a ritual Kent can perform to find the temple once he's there. But he has to be there for it to work," said Inza. She was staring at Diana.
"What?"
Inza pulled out one more scroll. It depicted a settlement nestled on the side of a snow-capped mountain.
"He thinks he found another one."
"Where?"
"In the Himalayas. A forgotten city."
"That's excellent. We can intercept Wotan in Kahndaq and secure this other sliver," said Diana.
Inza's face was solemn. "The problem is one of timing."
"Explain," said Diana, suddenly impatient. Dian leaned back, aware of her lack of insight into the matter.
"Each successive sliver retrieved increases the difficulty of the next one. The magic that protects them can sense the transgressor. It resists further intrusions. This is why it has taken Wotan so long with this one in Kahndaq, why Kent estimates our timeline is measured in months. He thinks it would be wise to not only stop him in the hall of lightning, but to near-simultaneously recover the sliver hidden in the mountains."
"I fail to see how that delays our action," said Diana.
"Kahndaq is nearly in sight. This other location is broadly unknown. It will take Kent time to pinpoint it. To plan how you and your allies can recover it safely. A timeline measured in months," said Inza.
"He would risk giving Wotan a shard simply for the possibility of retrieving two?" said Diana. She could feel her voice growing louder. Inza sighed.
"Wotan has been preparing for this event for over a century. Even if he is slowed, he has all the necessary tools to unlock each site. To think otherwise would be foolish. If he is foiled in Kahndaq, he can succeed in the Himalayas and elsewhere. Better to secure as many of the slivers at once as possible," said Inza.
This was absurd. "We only need one to put an end to his machinations," said Diana.
Inza held her composure in spite of Diana's obvious frustration. It was no wonder she was such a match for Kent. "We believe...Kent believes that there is too great a chance that Wotan could wreak havoc with the majority of the slivers, to say nothing of the possibility that he could take them from you. Nabu has been fighting Wotan for thousands of years. Doctor Fate has fought Wotan dozens of times just in Kent's tenure. I have met this sorcerer twice. He is not to be underestimated. His...perspective on time and mortality make him a considerably dangerous foe."
Diana stilled her tongue before she let annoyance get the better of her. Inza was not one to be swayed by rash speech. She was well aware that Kent held most of the leverage in this situation. Without his expertise there was no telling if Diana and Shiera could find the temple. Or the other shards.
She stood up abruptly. "Thank you for your hospitality, Dian. And the conversation. I have had a pleasurable time." Diana headed for the door.
Dian followed her. "It was grand to talk to you Diana, truly. Wesley and I will be in this part of the country for the rest of the month. I do hope I can see you again before we leave." She glanced back at Inza. "Wouldn't that be nice, Inza?"
"It would."
Though she had half a mind to be petty out of frustration, Diana pushed aside that impulse. "I would like that. My friends are performing at the USO show later this week. Maybe you cou-"
"We would be delighted to come," said Dian. She moved with Diana past the doorframe, closing it over to lend an air of privacy to her next words. "Some of that was beyond me, but I know it upset you."
"We have waited too long already. Inaction brings disaster," said Diana. "It has been the cause of many of our failures."
Dian put a smooth hand on her shoulder. "I don't profess to understand the intricacies of this lifestyle, but I do know what I tell Wesley over and over. The entire point of your team, your alliance, is that you don't bear the burden alone. Don't forget that."
July 17, 1942
The man's screams ceased at last. Though they were dulled by the floors between them, the agonized cries had long lost their novelty, becoming a grating presence for Priscilla. He was a soldier, enticed by Hypnota into their clutches.
"Finally," grumbled Zara, the red haired priestess. An ember of crimson flame swam around her wrist as they waited for the rest of their group.
The Byrna, the Blue Snowman, paced anxiously, her helmet tucked under her arm. A man when it was on, a woman when it wasn't. She lacked the tolerance for violence the other members of their group shared. A potential problem. Giganta lounged by the window, while Hypnota sat cross legged, in a trance. They were a disparate band of deviants and criminals, with their common cause being a hatred of Wonder Woman.
"Quit your roaming, it's become annoying," said Priscilla.
Byrna froze, her face paler than usual. She was so cowardly it grated, a mouse amongst real predators.
Zara cocked her head towards Priscilla. "I see the waiting has gotten to you too."
"If I had known so much of this meant sitting around here with you lot-"
"What? You would have stayed in prison?"
Zara was largely responsible for guiding Priscilla out of her captivity, an act she seldom neglected to mention.
"It was only a matter of time before I escaped anyway," said Priscilla, flexing her claws.
Giganta smirked. "We all say that."
Priscilla wasn't entirely sure what she had been hoping to find with this band of rogues. Her time with the Injustice Society had not been the most pleasant. Maybe, naively, she imagined a group of women would find common ground, even with a foundation of hate. Instead, she could scarcely hold in the annoyance she felt at most of her fellows. Only Hypnota failed to aggrieve her.
Eviless and Doctor Poison at last came through the door, the latter still basking in whatever horrors she had unleashed on their captive.
"You are too fond of testing my patience," said Priscilla to Eviless. Whatever leeway the woman had earned from breaking Priscilla out of prison, she had spent much of it with her opaque plans and dual motives. Priscilla remained on guard for the twist; she was certain that she was not alone in that concern.
The woman in the red bodysuit shrugged, ignoring her provocation. "One cannot rush an artist. Isn't that right doctor?"
The leathery mask tightened around Doctor Poison's ugly smile. "Your time has not been wasted." She had an odd accent. There were tinges of German to her English, with a hint of something else, something further afield. She was the member of their group that undoubtedly had ulterior motives. Priscilla's only question was how many of the others were in on her scheme. "I was able to extract the necessary information from our guest."
"The plan is set," said Eviless. "We strike in two days time."
July 19, 1942
Etta was tapping her foot impatiently as Diana and her companions approached. Diana could hear the preceding act over the walls of the baseball stadium. Etta was at one of the side gates, a bored soldier reading a magazine while they entered.
"I'm sorry we're-."
Etta shook her head. "No need. Get a move on thought." She switched on a grin for Inza and Dian. "A pleasure gals." They made their introductions.
"The rest of the girls are already backstage. Once I get you to your seats, I gotta join them," said Etta.
The exterior of the stadium reminded Diana of a Greek temple, with its white pillars and austere facade. They devoted their temples to sport and entertainment. USO banners streamed down from the upper levels, with servicemen and hostesses making conversation around refreshment stands and park benches. This event was more welcoming to civilians, with a healthy showing from Gateway's citizens, a send-off of sorts to the men who would soon be fighting overseas. She did note that the black guests were made to enter on the far side of the arena, sectioned off by a row of fences.
"Quite impressive. I wasn't aware Gateway had such a large stadium," said Dian as they climbed the stairs to find their row, squeezing through the audience. On the stage, which stood atop the pitcher's mound, was a pair of musicians and comedians, trading off between folksy songs and jokes. Diana didn't understand much of the humor, but it was getting a strong reaction from the crowd. Even Inza chuckled at a few of them as they settled into their seats.
"I've got to go," said Etta. There was an unfamiliar wobble in her voice.
Diana took her hand before she could leave. "You're ready for this. You're amazing."
Etta smiled slightly. "Thanks Diana."
"Break a limb!" called out Diana, as her friend pushed her way back down the row.
The duo on stage finished their routine to hearty applause. They were succeeded by a number of military officials and matronly hostesses, discussing matters like enlistment, bond sales and donations for the armed forces. The crowd listened, its anticipation of the next act growing. USO women walked about the stadium, offering refreshments and snacks, their sashes bearing the name of their organization. Many were drawn into conversations with eager servicemen.
"Etta's next?" said Dian.
"Along with the Holliday Girls. They are a skilled group. Etta has a voice that would make the muses jealous," said Diana.
"I can't wait," said Dian.
Inza was placid as usual. "There was a time when I wanted to be a singer. Among other things. I think my parents would have preferred that."
"Do you regret your choice?" said Diana.
"No. Think of all I would have missed though."
The turning points in life, a subject Diana pondered often. What if she had not won the tournament? Would there be another Amazon here in her stead? Her thoughts were interrupted by a sight further down, near the field. Steve Trevor was sitting beside a group of older men, officers no doubt. He was far enough away that it was unlikely he could see her. Diana did not savor the prospect of another reunion so soon, the sting of the last so fresh in her mind.
Dian nudged her. "Are those your friends?"
A group of women was taking the stage. Too many to be the Holliday girls. Etta was nowhere in this scene. A change of schedule? Hopefully Etta's nerves hadn't overcome her.
The woman in front was a blond lady in an overflowing dress, who took the microphone.
"Greetings men and women of Gateway. It sounds as though you've had a wonderful time so far. We hope you're ready for more…" There was a decidedly sultry undercurrent to her words.
The crowd answered with raucous cheers and whistles. The woman clutched at the shoulder of her dress, tearing it away in one, smooth motion. Past the uproar, came confusion as underneath it was a red bodysuit, adorned with an ornate yellow belt.
"Oh no," said Diana.
"What?" said Dian.
Eviless spoke into the microphone, the seductive transformed into sadistic. "How soon pleasure can become pain. I did promise a show Gateway, and I intend to deliver."
The sky around the stadium filled with red flames, hemming in the arena. The crowd surged to their feet.
"Ah, ah. Why leave?" said Eviless.
A series of gunshots erupted across the stands, warning shots. The ends of the rows were blocked by the USO hostesses, many of whom had procured firearms and were holding back the frantic crowds. A few gung-ho or especially panicked soldiers and guests had been persuaded by the butt of a gun. There was more to this than what the eye could discern. A skinny brunette in a tan dress knocked over a brawny soldier with a mere push.
"Wait," said Diana, urging her companions to remain still.
"Have a seat," said Eviless.
The crowds throbbed around them, but was unable to flee.
"Have a seat!," she commanded. This time the words echoed with another's voice. Almost everyone complied. Diana followed suit before she would stand out.
"That's better," said Eviless. One of the women that was on stage with her glowed green, unveiling a figure in baggy yellow pants and a turban. This was getting worse.
"Who is she?" whispered Dian.
"Eviless. She's a slaver I've fought before. Claims to be from Saturn."
"Of course," said Inza. "And the one in the turban?"
"That's Hypnota. A magician with mental powers."
Eviless beckoned a hostess to her side, who held aloft what appeared to be a radio microphone. "What a stunning interruption, I know. Yet, I'm sure this will be a more exciting experience for all of you. A readily survivable one at that, should you follow my instructions."
While the villain spoke, Diana caught sight of Steve's row being hustled away by a band of gun-toting hostesses.
"There's something wrong with these women," said Dian. "Look at their eyes."
There was indeed a lack of focus in their features, one Diana had seen before with Eviless.
"Girdles."
"What?" said Inza.
"Eviless has put girdles on all of them. It's how she exerts control."
On the stage, the woman continued. "This is all for the benefit of one person. Gateway's own Wonder Woman. Why she was the inspiration for this plan. How could anyone underestimate the fairer sex with what she's shown us? Judging by all of you men in the audience, I can tell it's a mistake you won't make again. Assuming you get the chance."
If anyone intervenes that is not Wonder Woman, we will detonate the many, many bombs we have planted around the stadium grounds. I am told their effects are myriad and many of them will spread across Gateway, if the loss of one stadium's worth is not enough to dissuade you. Wonder Woman, you have half an hour to make your grand appearance."
Dian inhaled sharply. "That's not good."
Who did bombs mean? Or was it all Eviless's doing? She could figure that out later.
"I have to meet her challenge," Diana whispered.
"How?" said Dian.
"I will reveal myself here if need be," she said.
Inza held up a hand. "That won't be necessary. I can provide us a brief respite. Close your eyes."
Diana listened to her instructions. Inza uttered a sequence of guttural chants. Diana's hands grew clammy and her stomach lurched.
"Open them."
They were in an empty hallway on the backside of the stadium. Dian was pale as a sheet. "What was that?"
"A trick Kent taught me."
From here, Diana confirmed that the fire had entirely cordoned off the stadium. The city was obscured by the flames.
"I still must face them."
"That's what they want from you," said Dian.
"They will regret it."
"There's no guarantee they will be honorable in defeat. Or victory," said Inza.
Diana frowned. That was always the issue with these villainous sorts.
Dian snapped her fingers. "Let us help you."
Diana shook her head. "It's too hazardous. I couldn't ask that of you."
"Well, you're not. We're telling you," said Inza.
"You handle the villains, we'll do what we can to sabotage their threats," said Dian.
It still didn't sit right, but what choice did Diana have? She couldn't call on her other allies, not without risking every soul present.
"The two of you would make fine Amazons with that courage."
"We'll earn that trip," said Inza. "Now go!"
On a positive note, Etta's stage fright never manifested. This was of course because the Holliday Girls and the other performers were currently being held prisoner within one of the locker rooms of the stadium by armed USO hostesses, but Etta was ever the optimist. They had heard most of the mastermind's speech as it rolled out of the speakers. The comedian duo that had been on before them were cowering behind Etta's band, murmuring to one another. The other group, a bunch of actors, were huddled in one corner. One of them, a woman appeared more bored than scared.
"Etta, what are we going to do?" said Lacey.
Joyce was scared as the rest of the Holliday Girls, but it came out as indignation more than anything. "How dare they treat us like this. I'd like to feed her that microphone."
"Cool it Joyce," hissed Olive. "They won't take kindly to that."
A glance at their guards revealed it had produced no response. It was as though the hostesses were absent, save for their physical menace. She had no doubt if she tried to walk out they would clock her, or worse.
"We wait for now," said Etta.
"Wonder Woman will save us right?" said Liz. Ordinarily, Etta would agree, but this was a rough one. Diana would have her hands full. Still, there was no point in being pessimistic in front of her friends.
"You can bet on it," said Etta.
The doors to the field swung open. A group of older military men were hustled past their lockers by more dour guards. One young face stood out to Etta. Steve Trevor.
A woman in a leather mask, with sinister eyes stopped by their group. "Come with me," she said to two of their guards.
"Our orders...," mumbled one of the hostesses.
"We do not need this many to watch over trained fools," said the woman. Whatever compelled the hostesses overrode their initial hesitation and they followed the masked woman and her posse out of the locker room. There was only one guard remaining.
Etta thought of Diana out there alone. Of how often in recent months, Etta had felt helpless, unable to contribute to anything beyond a few minutes of ignorance with her music. She balled her fists, savoring the tension that ran up her arm.
"Gals listen closely. We have a performance to give, it's just gonna look a little different."
Diana stood below the shadow of the scoreboard. The field stretched out beyond her, the stadium's stands buzzing with nervous whispers. She could tell Eviless was savoring her arrival.
"At last. And with time to spare," said Eviless.
Diana took a step forward. "You've been bested before. This time will be no different."
"The difference this time," Eviless began, "is I'm not alone."
One of the women on the stage leapt from it, landing on all fours. Priscilla. Behind them, a titan rose to match the height of the stadium walls. Giganta, that menace. Flanking Eviless was Hypnota, Zara (which explained the flames) and the Blue Snowman. Each of them had given her trouble on their own. Together…
"I fear you'll find that a union bound by cruelty crumbles quickly," said Diana.
Eviless retrieved her pistol from her belt. "Such bravado. So inspirational. Does it move you ladies?"
"I find it lacking," bellowed Giganta. Cheetah merely hissed.
"Drop the bracelets and your lasso. Or we set off the bombs," said Eviless.
There it was. Another shackle added. "Next, you'll tell me that I am to offer no resistance at all."
Cheetah laughed venomously. "That would take all the fun out of it."
"No, Wonder Woman. We're here for a fight," said Eviless.
"I offer you one final chance to submit to a peaceful solution," said Diana, discarding her implements. "There is hope for you yet."
Diana considered the offer rejected when Giganta stomped on her.
"My heart is coming out of my chest," said Olive.
"You're fine," said Etta, rubbing her wrist. Wasn't the first time she had laid someone out, but this one took a few swings to bring down.
"I got hit, didn't I?" said Lacey, checking over her body.
"You're not hit you crumb," said Liz. "She didn't even shoot."
Dorothy kneeled by the unconscious hostess. "How'd you know that us singing would distract her?"
"I didn't," said Etta.
"She's got some weird band around her waist," said Joyce. "It won't come off."
There was a blue and yellow belt fixed around the woman. It glowed faintly.
"Maybe that's what's gotten into them," said Liz.
There was no time to investigate it. Another guard could come around at any minute and Etta wouldn't have the element of surprise. She beckoned Liz. "Take the others and find a place to hide. If you can high tail it then do so."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa Etta. You're not thinking of splitting off from us."
Etta grabbed her cheek. "Liz, there's something I gotta do before I join you. I need you ladies to stay safe."
They protested, but she was eventually able to herd them and the other performers away from the room. The bored actress gave her a quizzical look as she passed. For her part, Etta went the other direction, deeper into the stadium, the way that woman in the mask had taken Steve and the others. She had considered taking the hostess's gun, but when it came down to it, she was no soldier. She didn't want the possibility of blood on her hands.
Every sound and echoed step made Etta crouch and hide. Most of the hostesses were out in the stands, keeping watch over the real crowd, but there was no guarantee of safe passage. She kept a steady chant of "What would Diana do?" going in her head.
"Probably just run in there, fists swinging," Etta thought.
Right before the stairwell, Etta heard the sound of a scuffle. There was grunting and the scrape of shoes on concrete, complete with the muffled thuds of fists hitting a body. She sidled by the door, choking in her own breath as she heard the fight resolve itself.
"I think I broke a finger," said a woman's voice.
"Want me to take a look at it?" said another.
"No, we haven't the time." Then in a lower pitch, "Oh, Wesley would not be impressed with that."
Etta ventured a peek into the stairwell. A red head in a maroon dress and a short-haired woman in a green coat were standing over a pair of USO hostesses. The second woman's eyes widened as they met Etta's. Etta was charging towards them, bowling over the woman before she could react.
"Etta?" cried the red head.
Etta stopped, mid-tackle. It was Inza and Dian, Diana's friends. She had been in such a state that she had reacted before the recognition hit her.
"I am glad to see you, but would you mind getting off me," said Dian, politely as one could manage whilst pinned.
Etta apologized profusely as they sorted out their current situation. Their specific goals differed, but the general desire to assist Diana was a constant.
"You saw them lead off this group of men?" said Inza.
"Officers I think."
"Could be a foreign operation then," said Dian.
"The specifics matter little at this point, so long as we aren't out of the danger," said Inza.
Diana gazed up the stairwell. "What we really need to know is where these bombs are. Without them, they have considerably less sway over Wonder Woman and the crowd."
"Our only lead right now is that woman," said Etta. "Up we go."
Wonder Woman touched down around second base. Chunks of soil and grass were ripped from the sight of impact. She was scarcely back to her feet when Eviless's laser carved through the ground beside her.
"Keep up the pressure," roared Cheetah as she dashed towards Diana.
There were four of the villain racing at her, a side effect of Hypnota's interference. She miscalculated the first swipe, feeling claws rake her shoulder. The second one was blocked. Cheetah sprang back, in time for Giganta's fist to collide with Diana and send her skipping over towards third.
"She's losing," said Giganta.
"Don't finish her yet," said Zara.
Wonder Woman rolled as a downpour of fire spilled on the earth. The heat lapped at her heels, as ice hemmed her in from the other end, courtesy of Blue Snowman.
"I must say you're doing better than I thought you would," said Eviless.
She ducked under another laser. Without her bracelets and tiara, there was little she could do at a distance. Unless… She wasn't thinking creatively, a byproduct of Hyponota's white noise. Wonder Woman punched the ice wall, splintering off a number of shards she snatched from the air. She hurled them at the turbaned woman and Eviless. The latter fell prone, while Hypnota was knocked off the stage.
There was no time to celebrate as Cheetah pounced on her back, all fangs and fury.
Etta huddled close to Inza and Dian as they hid behind a stack of crates, leftover supplies from the setup for the event, meant to cater the viewing booth which now held the masked villain and her captives. The woman was so assured of her security, she neglected to have her bewitched guards patrol the halls or do much more beyond stand in the entryway to the booth. Her captives were sitting in chairs, rearranged from the would-be party to face the field. Another villain in a metal chest band and loose, green pants observed the spectacle below, molding the air with her hands, as though she were sculpting something unseen.
"Colonel Fletcher, your life is safe," said the masked woman, striding back and forth in front of her captives, her gloved hands rubbed together. "The rest of you lack such certainty. Gentlemen, you have the chance to prolong your immediate survival. But, only one."
One of the captives, a grey-haired gentlemen, rattled in his seat. "I'm not interested in your games you lunatic. Set us free and you might avoid the firing squad."
The villain leaned closer to the man, blowing across her flat palm. A green mist settled around the man's head. His body spasmed and jerked violently, knocking his chair back. Etta suppressed a scream at the sight of his blistered face.
"Any other takers?" said the woman. "I thought not. The price of your life is information. Who has the most valuable information. I'm not picky. State secrets, military plans, logistical knowledge. Whoever gives me something good gets to live."
Dian dipped back below the boxes, pulling the other two with her. "We can't let this continue."
"I would love to hear our options here," said Inza. Between them were three armed, brainwashed hostesses and two supervillains.
"Distraction," said Etta. "Lure as many of them away, then we can handle the rest."
"And if the supervillains are those left?" said Dian.
"All we need to do is get those men out of there. We don't have to fight them."
"Then who's the distraction?" said Inza.
Etta swallowed uncomfortably. She was glad she had been so worried about tripping on stage she had worn shoes she could run in.
The shock wave rolled towards Priscilla. She jumped out of the way, still pelted by bits of dirt and grass. Giganta was attempting to crush Wonder Woman again, largely foiled by her foes speed. They had managed to box her in to one side of the stadium, but she was resisting all efforts to pin her down. Eviless fired her ray gun into the cloud of dust and debris.
The first thing that emerged from the murk was a blindingly fast fist. Cheetah fell below it, slashing upwards and catching Wonder Woman's side. Her opponent grunted, responding with a knee that dropped Priscilla, breathless. Strong hands grabbed her back, throwing her like a discus towards the stage. She sensed Eviless roll out of the way.
Priscilla spat out a mix of blood and saliva onto the stage, wiping her mouth. Hypnota was unconscious, her feet dangling off the side of the stage. "She remains troublesome."
"She tires," said Eviless. "All a matter of attrition."
Flames and ice rained down on Wonder Woman's location, while Giganta slammed the ground repeatedly. Cheetah began to march back towards the fray. So long as she delivered the death blow.
The wall cracked beside Etta as she ran though the halls of the stadium. They were already shooting at her! She wheeled around a corner, descending down a set of stairs. The clack of the hostesses shoes rebounded off the concrete as their pursuit continued.
She wasn't sure how many were after her, but she had made a proper racket, knocking over the stacks of boxes outside the viewing booth. The masked woman had sworn in German and set her guards on the trail of the disturbance.
Etta went down two floors, before splitting off. She found the concession stand, which she clambered over the counter of, taking refuge below. She stopped a bottle from rolling off the counter and crashing to the floor. At least one of her pursuers had chosen this level to search, as evidenced by their steady footsteps. Etta cupped her hands to dampen her breath, all too aware of the sweat that coated her body.
The footsteps stopped somewhere nearby. Etta blinked nervously. She prayed for Diana to arrive, for anyone to arrive and take away the fear, the possibility of failure. That, that was worse than the prospect of death. The fear that she had done all this for nothing.
The side door to the stand swung open. Etta could see the hostesses legs come into view, marching around the stand. It wouldn't be long before she could see her.
Etta grabbed the handle of the bottle and swung.
Dian pointed the pistol dead on at the masked villain. Wesley wouldn't be thrilled, but with his line of work she had determined it prudent to have a means of self-defense.
"Step away from those men," said Dian.
The masked villain complied, that rictus grin still stuck to her face. "What an unexpected complication."
The woman with the flames whirled around to face them, only to be met by Inza's forceful chant of "Silim." Sleep ensnared her.
"It continues to become more fascinating," said the villain, unmoved by her companions condition.
"Enough of that," said Dian, taking a few steps closer, cautious of the poison powder she had seen before. "Where are the bombs?"
"That's the real question," said the woman. She snapped her fingers. Something in the room popped into purple smoke. Dian squeezed the trigger on instinct, hearing a painful cry and shattering glass past the bellow of the pistol. She did not inhale.
Inza spoke again, "Clarum caelum." The purple smoke vacated the new hole in the window as though it were possessed.
The villain was gone, as was one of the soldiers. The only sign of her flight was a few drops of blood. Dian and Inza set to work untying the soldiers. The youngest of them, a man with blond hair, spoke to her, "Who are you?"
"Concerned citizens. Who are going to be a lot more concerned if we don't stop the bombs set around this place."
He stood up, helping with the others. "I have an idea where she put them."
The flames had vanished from around the stadium, a change that was just distracting enough that Diana was blindsided by Giganta's hand. She was being pressed into the earth, her knee carving up a divot as she resisted the titan's efforts.
"Give up already," shouted her attacker. Diana responded by regaining her feet, sensing her opponent's resolve weakening with each inch gained.
Ice crackled towards her, coating her feet and ankles. The Blue Snowman stood adjacent to Wonder Woman's predicament, adding her own complication.
"Get on with it," said Giganta. "Freeze the bitch."
Blue Snowman hesitated in her compliance, enough for Diana to call out to her. "You don't have to do this. I see that murder is not in your heart."
The ice climbed to her knees. The pressure above mounted as her own strength waned. "You have the chance to abandon this life of cruelty. I bear you no grudges," said Wonder Woman through her pain.
"Don't listen to her," said Giganta.
"Being lost now, does not mean you need be lost forever. I can help you. But only if you let me," said Diana.
The ice stopped by her thigh. The Blue Snowman appeared to wobble, on unsteady legs. "I didn't want this, I didn't," the villain muttered. She began to stagger away.
"Useless," said Giganta. She put her entire body weight onto her palm. "I can finish it myself."
Diana called on Gaia, on all those who would grant her strength as she pushed back against the giant's hand. Through screaming muscles, she rose, her legs snapping free from their icy bonds.
"I have hope for you too, Giganta. Hope that one day our confrontations need not end like this," said Wonder Woman, arms fully extended now, her foe being forced back.
"Like what?"
She answered Giganta by springing off the ground, delivering a devastating left hook to her jaw. The enormous woman, leaned unsteadily back and forth before falling, her reunion with the earth necessitating Eviless to flee the stage as the woman's head crumpled it. In spite of their peril, much of the crowd rose in a cheer.
"Have you ever been in a situation like this before?" said Steve Trevor, the soldier that had guided Dian to the bundle of bombs which sat in the opposing team's locker room. Dian appreciated that touch, if not the threat they posed.
"Not exactly like this, no," said Dian. She traced her hands over the many wires and tubes that connected the swirling green liquid which pulsed within the bomb canisters. If it was anything like this Doctor Poison had demonstrated in the viewing booth, it would spell a nasty end to the entire affair.
This was where Dian was glad she had demanded Wesley share his knowledge with her. His methodology had a much less fatal tint to it, but his expertise with chemical solutions and their delivery methods meant she wasn't entirely unprepared for this puzzle.
"They've been made to resist tampering," said Dian. "A mistake will only set them off early."
"Then what can we do?"
"The vulnerability is the delivery method. The payload of the bomb will not spread quickly on its own. Only through this," she said, pointing out one of the many contraptions," will enable it to bloom out over the whole stadium."
"Meaning we don't have to stop the bomb from going off necessarily…"
"Merely how it goes off," said Dian. "Hand me that wrench."
Etta wiped the last of the liquid from her hand. She plucked one shard of glass from her knuckle. The bottle had worked well enough. The hostess laid dazed back at the concession stand.
She crept down the tunnel that led out onto the field, beckoned by the staggering crash that rocked the stadium and the cheers that went up after it. From the shadowed hall of the tunnel, Etta could see Giganta was down and out. Diana stood alone, facing off against Eviless and Cheetah, the former of whom was atop the wreck of the stage.
"Your plan is collapsing. Surely, you can see that," said Diana. Her friend was battered, but she retained that unbowed posture that dared the world to meet her spirit. Etta felt her heart swell.
Cheetah continued to circle her prey, while Eviless responded. "Such bravery is commendable in the face of death. It will not be enough."
"This need not end violently. I will accept your surrender," said Wonder Woman.
The crowd was responding to Diana's defiance, her name being chanted.
"Enough," shouted Eviless. "If the masses love you so, then they can pay the price for you. Surrender or they die."
The hostesses around the crowd raised their weapons at the people, compelled by their master's will. Diana did not move.
"You may do what you will to me, so long as you do not hurt them," said Wonder Woman.
Etta smacked her forehead. Of course she would do this. She was always ready for a sacrificial play. It would not do. Etta moved out of the tunnel, keeping to the edge of the stadium walls, outside of Eviless's field of view.
Diana awaited death, wherever it came from. She had run through her options and come up short. No action she could take would justify the deaths of all those in the stands. Cheetah approached, while Eviless aimed her gun.
"Embrace your end, Wonder Woman," said Eviless.
Cheetah lunged in front of Diana, blocking her with her own body.
"What?" said Eviless.
"I told you, the killing blow is mine," said Cheetah.
"Move you fool. I am the architect of all this. I deserve the honor," said Eviless.
Wonder Woman nearly laughed. Her life prolonged by the bickering of her foes. Truly absurd.
"I will shoot if I must," said Eviless. Cheetah refused to relent.
There was a sudden gasp through the crowd. Eviless collapsed on the stage, dropping her weapon. Behind her stood Etta Candy, holding a bit of rubble from the stage she had no doubt just used as a bludgeon. The hostesses lowered their weapons, the belts on their waist falling from them.
"That resolves that," said Cheetah. Before Diana could respond, she drove her claws straight into Wonder Woman's chest.
Steve waited just outside the locker room as the strange woman either damned or saved them all.
"You're certain this will work?"
"Little in life is certain," said the woman. "I would suggest gaining more distance."
He watched until the last moment as she applied pressure to the housing of the bomb. There was a hissing noise, followed by a sharp pop. Steve ignored his urge to run in and grab her, instead fleeing away as green smoke filled the room. He didn't stop until he was nearly half way around the stadium, only halting to catch his breath and await the results.
The lack of a sudden onrush of green fumes meant that she had at least succeeded in preventing their spread through the whole stadium. He was nearly ready to give up on her when she sauntered down the hallway as though it were an afternoon stroll.
"I thought you had perished," he said. "How did you survive the gas?"
"Trade secret," said the woman, as she adjusted her bag.
Here it was, the moment Priscilla had awaited. She drew back her claws from Wonder Woman's chest, marveling at the ribbons of blood that came with them. Her foe's eyes were wide, pained, as if a heartbreaking betrayal had just been rendered.
All it would take was one more slash to end it.
But, nothing happened. Priscilla froze. Something seized. her, some overwhelming sensation that the end of the hunt was the end of her. All she could do was prolong it.
Bright, red claws filled Diana's vision as she sank down. Priscilla was gloating, but it all blended together with Etta's scream and the crowd's cries. She felt her limbs concede their defeat as the torn-up grass of the field met her backside.
There was a gunshot, then another. Cheetah ran, the cry of gunshots chasing her.
Etta's face above Diana, frantic, as she had never seen her. "Don't worry Etta. You'll knock them out of their seats. Break a limb," murmured Diana.
"It's break a leg," said Etta, clutching at Diana's back.
"Oh. I don't see how any of that helps with a performance," she whispered. Her chest throbbed. Etta's hands were red too.
Eventually Steve joined Etta. And Inza, and Superman, and her mother, and Kasia, and Athena, and the Holliday Girls, and, and, and, and….
Diana awoke to white sheets and Steve Trevor. His hand was already on hers as she sat up.
"Careful now. Don't strain yourself," he cautioned.
A hospital room. "This feels familiar," Diana said.
"Our roles are reversed," said Steve.
"She's awake," cried Etta, running in from the door. She pushed past Steve, giving Diana a ferocious hug. Her chest ached, but she endured it for the affection.
"You can't do that to us," said Etta.
Diana sat up more. Steve had a light smile on his face, but it was marked by stubble and stress. Etta's eyes already were delivering more tears.
"I suspect I have you two to thank for saving my life," she said.
"It was a group effort," said Etta, holding Diana's hand.
"The JSA arrived as soon as Eviless dropped. Most of them took up a position just beyond the stadium once they learned what was happening. The Flash got you and Doctor Midnight to a hospital as fast as possible," said Steve.
It was heartening to think of her teammates being there for her. "And the villains?"
"All but two captured. Doctor Poison and Cheetah."
Steve tapped Etta on the shoulder. "I'll give you two a few minutes."
Steve sat in silence till Etta left, his eyes scanning Diana's features. She resisted the urge to avoid his gaze, aware of the swelling in her breast.
"Doctor Poison took the man I was working for here. Many of my superiors think that was the plan behind the entire assault."
"All that for one man?"
"His work was rather..sensitive." Steve sighed. "There will be repercussions." He took Diana's hand again, stroked it gently. "We can talk about that more another time."
"Steve…"
"I nearly lost you Diana. I'd say we're even on that front." He got up from his chair, walked to the door. "I love you. I can't help it. I've loved you since I woke up on that beach. I won't hold you back Diana. But, know that if you ever change your mind, I'm out there."
He left. Diana whispered for her own sake more than anything, having failed in the moment, "I love you too."
July 22, 1942
"I've had a change in my thinking gentlemen. I believe the Amazon problem is one that requires more resources devoted to it."
"What do you propose, general?"
"We're close to finding that island. Step up our efforts. And I want new drafts of our contingency plans. Have General DeWitt give them a go. He's smarting after the debacle with the Japs. Give him a new target."
"We'll get right on it, General Mercer."
Batman removed the headphones as the recording ended. He should inform Diana. Although, what was the point of that, if he didn't know their plans yet?
He put the headphones back on and ran it back.
It's been quite a gap between this chapter and the last one, one that went longer than anticipated. I've been fairly busy with work, which has taken it's toll on my ability to write this story. This tale has ended up far larger than I originally intended, with a lot of material to go at this point. I intend to get a few more chapters out in the next week or two, then settling back into a more regular schedule. I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read it.