“Come closer, Batgirl,” the woman invited, in an accent that combined the Bronx with South of the Border. “My pets won’t hurt you . . . unless I tell them to.”
Batgirl seldom conducted routine patrols.
She did not feel combating street crime was unimportant--far from it. Her father’s police department did an admirable job apprehending most criminals, as well as serving and protecting the citizens of Gotham City. Thus, Batgirl’s time and energy were best spent opposing the wide array of more “colorful” villains who plagued her hometown.
The latest outbreak of such lawbreakers were what Vicki Vale had labeled “Copycats.” Since the death of Catwoman about a year ago, several self-proclaimed “Catwomen” had appeared on the scene.
The majority were thrill-seeking girls in their late teens or early twenties. Each thought herself quite clever, hitting targets such as a catalog outlet store, a catsup factory and the Gotham City Cataract Eye Center. Most acted out their fantasy alone and were quickly captured by the GCPD. A few were more successful, with one Batgirl actually had to captured herself, a 49-year-old woman with the self-confidence and body to squeeze into a knock-off version of Catwoman’s skin-tight costume.
Late one evening, Barbara Gordon was sitting at her computer in her apartment, accompanied only by her pet bird, Charlie. The 30 year-old-librarian listened to a police scanner, while searching on-line for possible leads to the whereabouts of either Egghead or the Siren.
Barbara’s ears picked up when she heard an address less than two blocks from her own. She replayed the end of the announcement in her mind, “. . . Avenue, a silent alarm has been tripped at Neko New Age Importers.”
‘It sounds like a low priority call,’ Babs decided. She turned back to her computer, but stopped when she heard who responded.
"This is Lieutenant Diana Mooney. I’m a block away and I’ll have a look on my way in.”
‘Of course, I could check it out long before any black and whites get there . . . and say, "Hi," to Diana. I’d be back in time for a good night’s sleep, too.’
Barbara stood and stretched. “I think I’ll go out for a little exercise, Charlie.”
“SQUAWK”
Barbara knew it was silly, talking to her parrot, but it amused her. On occasion, it also helped her organize her thoughts. Sometimes, she envied Batman and Batwoman for having a partner with whom to talk . . .
. . . but at other times she didn’t.
Barbara strode purposefully across her bedroom, reached under her dressing table and flipped the switch. The rotating wall silently completed a half revolution, revealing her Batgirl costume.
After quickly changing, she flipped another switch to return the room to its original configuration. She then made her way through the connecting passage into her secret Batgirl nook.
Once inside, she triggered the mechanism opening the aperture to the old freight elevator. Batgirl stepped through and was about to mount the Batgirlcycle, when she stopped. ‘I can run there in less than a minute.’
A finger inside a purple glove toggled the switch on the Batgirlcycle that caused the elevator to descend the eight floors to street level. A quick check of a TV monitor mounted on the front of the elevator car told her the alley was empty. When the car reached bottom, Batgirl hit another button and the fake brick wall fell open. She ran out and accessed a panel, hidden behind one of the real bricks of the wall, and flipped another switch, closing the concealed exit.
‘I’ve come in on foot before, but I can’t recall ever leaving this way,’ Batgirl thought. She shrugged and carefully made her way down the dark alley. Once she reached the street, she sprinted toward the ground-floor office of Neko New Age Importers.
Batgirl had barely gone one block when she saw a dark figure, at first running toward her, but then veering off down a cross street. Although she couldn’t see the person clearly, it appeared to be a woman . . .
. . . and what the woman was wearing was very familiar.
‘Oh, no,’ Batgirl thought, ‘another Copycat!’ Then realization dawned – if she hadn’t already started hot pursuit, Batgirl would have hit herself on the forehead with an open palm. ‘"Neko” is the Japanese word for “cat!” Well, at least this one is showing a little imagination.’
“Stop right there!” Batgirl shouted. The Copycat checked herself for a mere second before dashing off at an even faster clip and otherwise ignoring the heroine.
As Batgirl ran, she considered the situation. ‘I don’t even know for sure a crime has been committed, much less that this person committed one. On the other hand, maybe a confrontation with me will convince this woman Catwoman isn’t such a good role model!’
Batgirl’s quarry ran into some shadows. The lack of light, along with the black costume, rendered the Copycat invisible.
Thanks in part to her ballet training, Batgirl had become quite adept at running in her high-heeled boots. She had been steadily closing in on the Copycat before the super-villainess wannabe momentarily disappeared.
Suddenly, a dark figure in black emerged from the shadows – much farther down the street than Batgirl expected. ‘How did she get all the way over there so fast?’
The chase resumed. The process repeated itself a couple of times: Batgirl would close in; then the Copycat would vanish into the dark; only to show up again farther away than seemed humanly possible.
Batgirl had begun to seriously doubt the wisdom of leaving the Batgirlcycle behind when the Copycat ducked down an entrance to the subway. ‘If she gets on a train before I get there . . .’
With practiced ease, the Copycat vaulted over a turnstile and ran down another flight of stairs to the platform below. Batgirl, managing to keep the suspect in sight, waved a pass she kept in her utility belt over the turnstile’s scanner as she scooted through.
Try as Mayor Linseed’s administration might, it was impossible to keep the subway system squeaky-clean. The faint smell of stale urine assaulted Batgirl as she bounded onto the platform.
At this time of night, even in Gotham, the subway was virtually deserted. A solitary man on the platform was astonished – and quite pleased – to see a woman in a black, skin-tight costume flash by, followed by Batgirl in her form-fitting purple outfit.
The Copycat jumped off the platform onto the track bed and raced down the tunnel, careful to avoid the electrified third rail. Batgirl did the same. She was sure this adventure was about to come to an end.
‘There isn’t another station for ten blocks and there aren’t any branch lines before then. There’s no where for her to run.’
Five hundred yards from the platform, the fleeing figure suddenly stopped and turned. Batgirl still couldn’t see her face, but couldn’t miss what happened next.
The Copycat reached toward the wall . . . and opened a door! In an instant, the woman in black passed out of sight.
Batgirl reached the door less than fifteen seconds later. It wasn’t locked. In fact, the Copycat hadn’t even bothered to close it.
‘This is getting more interesting,’ Batgirl thought as she cautiously crossed the threshold. The passage was narrow and slowly descending. Batgirl wasn’t tall, even with her heels, yet she still had to crouch to avoid hitting her head.
‘I wonder what this is? An old service corridor? Does it connect to another line?’
Batgirl picked her way carefully forward. An old string of electric lamps, spaced about fifty feet apart, lighted the way. Every once in a while, a rat would cross her path, only to disappear down a hole in the wall.
‘Good thing I’m not afraid of mice!’ Batgirl wryly observed.
Batgirl saw no sign of the person she had been chasing. Ahead, the lights curved down in the distance. ‘How far does this go?’ Batgirl wondered.
Fortunately, the passage wasn’t narrowing. Finally, Batgirl could see in front of her that this part of her journey was about to conclude.
‘Now what?’
She was flabbergasted as she stepped from the passage into an impossibly large chamber! The room vaguely reminded Batgirl of a banquet hall in a castle she had seen in Londinium.
The space was rectangular, with cloisters along the perimeter. The entire area was dimly lit, evidently by torchlight. The ceiling was rough-hewn stone, as were the walls. Both were red, as if carved out of soil rich in iron oxide. If where she came out was any indication, other passages and doors were spaced along the walls, under the cloisters.
‘How can such a place exist deep beneath Gotham City?’
As amazing as the surroundings were, what awaited Batgirl at the other end of the room was even more astounding.
Underneath a cloister was a young woman, reclining on a couple of raised stone tablets which were covered by what appeared to be two Oriental rugs. Up against the shaft of one of the columns of the cloister, resting on the column’s base, was a large, circular, metal shield.
If not for her two companions, Batgirl would have focused on the woman. She was of indeterminate ethnicity, possibly Latino or Oceanic, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. Long brown hair reached beyond her right breast as she rested on her left elbow propped on the base of the column along with the shield.
The woman wore very little, just a bikini top that covered the bottom of her breasts and a triangle of leather or plastic covering her groin. Tattoos adorned the top of her breasts and she wore a simple necklace.
Batgirl, however, noticed little of these details. Her attention was on the woman’s companions – two very large jaguars!
“Come closer, Batgirl,” the woman invited, in an accent that combined the Bronx with South of the Border. “My pets won’t hurt you . . . unless I tell them to.”
Batgirl approached warily. She had a couple of things in her utility belt that might ward off the animals for a short time, but sincerely hoped she wouldn’t have to attempt to do so. ‘Is this the woman I was chasing?’ It seemed unlikely.
Batgirl tried to adopt her most authoritative voice as she put her hands on her hips. “Who are you? What is this place?”
“My, my, so many questions. You came down here uninvited. Why?”
Batgirl was taken aback. ‘I suppose it is possible I am in the wrong here.’ She softened her tone and let her arms fall to her sides, straightening. All the while, she kept her eyes on the jaguars. “I’m sorry, but I would really feel more comfortable having this conversation if your ‘pets’ weren’t present.”
The woman smiled thinly at Batgirl. “Did you know, unlike many other big cats, apart from humans, jaguars have no rivals? No other predator can compete with them.”
At the mention of the word “cat,” alarm bells began ringing in Batgirl’s mind. She ignored them – for now.
The nearly nude woman continued, “In comparison with the other cats of their size, jaguars have particularly powerful jaws. They often kill their prey by piercing the skull with one swift bite.”
The woman smirked at Batgirl. “I can see why they make you nervous.” With a nearly imperceptible nod of her head, the woman dismissed the beasts. They padded away, disappearing down a nearby passage.
“Thank you,” Batgirl said. “To answer your question, I followed a suspect in a crime down here.”
“Really?” the woman said.
She didn’t seem at all surprised, but sat up, went to her knees, and grabbed an ornate sword in her right hand. She looked around the chamber. “I haven’t seen or heard anyone, besides you.”
Batgirl tensed. She wasn’t sure whether the sword was meant for her or for the unseen intruder. “I have no reason to suspect the woman I'm chasing is dangerous.”
“A woman?” Batgirl’s hostess replied. She got a strange look on her face as she stroked the sword with her left hand. “Don’t you know, the female is the deadlier of the species?”
Batgirl was quite impressed. ‘If she can wield the sword like that, she must be quite strong.’ “I’ve heard that,” the Dominoed Daredoll said without further comment.
“Look,” the heroine continued, “I answered your question. So . . . ?”
The woman stood, brandishing the sword, “I have many names, but for now you may call me Jolay, Jaguar Princess.”
Batgirl didn’t know whether to bow, curtsy or laugh. She decided to nod her head and said, “Nice to meet you . . . and this place?”
“Ah, you have a rare privilege!” Jolay carefully put down her sword. She walked past Batgirl, beyond the cloister into the vast expense of the central chamber. The Jaguar Princess spread her arms as if encompassing all around them. “Only a handful of people have been in this room in the past one hundred years. Now, it serves as the headquarters of a secret society.”
“Secret society?” Batgirl questioned.
“Yes, yes,” Jolay said happily. She waved her hand for Batgirl to join her in the middle of the room. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
Batgirl was on her guard. She furtively scanned the ceiling for anything that might drop upon her if she moved forward. Seeing no danger from above, she walked toward Jolay with what she hoped was a friendly expression on her face.
The Dark Knight Damsel, though, stepped carefully, ready to jump aside in an instant if the floor should give way. Batgirl’s footing held firm and she reached Jolay without incident.
Jolay put her right arm around Batgirl’s shoulders. “We’re short one member in our merry band. Perhaps you would like to join?”
Batgirl was puzzled.
‘Jolay’s invitation is surprising, considering I supposedly stumbled upon this unusual woman’s headquarters by accident. Am I simply being paranoid?’ Batgirl wondered. Cautiously, but with a tone calculated to convey open- mindedness, Batgirl said, “Well, of course, I’d need to know more about your group. What do you do?”
Jolay smiled, somehow conveying both amusement and sympathy simultaneously. “Perhaps the best way to explain is to introduce you to our other members.” Jolay removed her arm from Batgirl and waved a stretched-out hand in front of them. “Behold!”
Across the expanse, from out of one of the passages before them, stepped another woman – a woman who was very familiar to the Curved Crusader!
“Catwoman?!” Batgirl yelled.
A very tall, strawberry blonde sashayed across the chamber toward Batgirl and Jolay. She was wearing Catwoman’s costume, but quickly Batgirl put the facts into place.
“That’s Selina Kyle’s body, but Catwoman’s mind was in Tara Kaat’s body. So that must mean . . .”
The Amazonian Catwoman leaned her right elbow against a large “A” frame that had been erected to facilitate some repairs to the ancient structure. “That’s right, Batgirl. I’m Tara. I don’t think we’ve ever met . . . and I also don’t think you’ve ever met my friend.”
Tara looked behind her and to her right. Another Catwoman approached.
This one was a brunette, wore Catwoman’s ornate domino mask and carried a black cat. She stopped and reclined on a semi-circular bookshelf built into the floor of the central chamber. A tapestry with a map of the world surrounded by peacock feathers hung from the cloister behind her.
This Catwoman smiled broadly at Batgirl. “I’ve heard so much about you, Batgirl. Now, we finally get to meet. Just think, all the bodies Catwoman had inhabited are here in this one room.” If the woman knew Catwoman had once used Dr. Harleen Quinzel's body to escape from prison, she didn't think it worth mentioning.
‘This Catwoman may be more accurate than she knows,” Batgirl thought. The heroine's body had also once been used by Selina Kyle. 'Of course, if she and the others are aware of that, my discovery of this place may be less of an accident than I first imagined.’
Tossing away the cat and her mask, the dark-haired Catwoman suddenly jumped to her feet and sprang toward Batgirl, as if to strike. She stopped short and said, “No, wait! One of the bodies is misssssssing!”
Batgirl knew exactly what she meant. ‘I’m starting to get a very bad feeling about this.’
“You’re Lisa Carson, well-known socialite,” Batgirl concluded. “Catwoman once inhabited your body, too.”
“That’s right, Batgirl,” Jolay said. “Isn’t it nice, meeting new friends?” Before Batgirl could respond, the Jaguar Princess rotated an additional fifty degrees to the left and indicated another approaching figure. “Now, here’s someone you already know, although you may not recognize her at first.”
The next woman to approach wore a much different costume. Like a character out of the 1940s, this woman wore a purple, knee-length dress, green cape and purple half-mask. Her long black hair fell freely from the back and she held a cat-o-nine-tails. The outfit was completed with purple, turned-down, high-heel boots.
“It’s great to be back in Gotham City!” The woman fixed the heroine with a look halfway between loathing and hunger. “It’s been a while, Batgirl.”
Batgirl immediately recognized the voice. “Vixen!” Batgirl was not surprised the criminal call girl had changed her hair color. Vixen was famous for her chameleon-like quality. “So, you’ve given up on Metropolis?”
“Metropolis is so boring. Gotham is where the action is!”
“The film-noir look suits you,” Batgirl complimented. Compared to the garish get-ups Vixen wore when she worked for the Joker and Egghead, it was a big improvement.
“Thanks,” Vixen said simply.
“Have you been looking for me?” a new voice said, behind Vixen and off to her right.
“Or should we say us?” another unfamiliar voice said from the opposite direction.
Batgirl looked back and forth between the two newcomers. One, an African-American woman with long, curly, black hair, stood in a passage doorway. The other woman was white with ruby red lips.
Both wore variations of the classic Catwoman costume. The black woman’s was close to the original, but the white girl’s had an oily quality and was extremely tight, to the point of being almost obscene and very uncomfortable-looking. It indeed appeared as though it was painted on the girl’s body. In addition, her costume featured boots with severe stiletto heels.
“That’s why I couldn’t catch up with you!” Batgirl deduced. “There were two of you!”
“Very purrrrceptive, Batgirl.” The African-American Catwoman made a worthy attempt at matching Selina Kyle-in-Tara Kaat’s body’s rolling r’s. She approached the growing circle of Catwomen. “By the way, my name is Debbie.”
“And I’m Amber Baird,” the girl in the revealing costume divulged as she joined the group. “But . . .”
“Actually, there were three of us,” a new voice said from behind Batgirl and to her right. Standing next to Debbie was another black-clad Catwoman. The outstanding feature of this Catwoman’s costume was white stitching. It appeared as if this woman’s costume was a vinyl raincoat sewn together. More than any previous version of the Princess of Plunder, this garb gave the impression its wearer was a dominatrix. A whip wrapped around her body added to the feeling.
Michelle leaned in close to Batgirl’s face. Inches away, she declared, “I am Catwoman. Hear me roar.”
‘This one’s different than the others,’ Batgirl thought. ‘There’s a touch of insanity behind those eyes . . . almost like the Joker!’
Batgirl was relieved when Michelle retreated, standing to the right of and slightly behind Debbie. 'Her breath is terrible! It's as if she's been eating . . . live birds!'
Concerns about the woman’s oral hygiene quickly faded, though, as Batgirl made a disturbing observation. Jolay had moved from Batgirl’s side to stand to the right and slightly in front of Michelle.
Batgirl was standing at the center of what was now almost a complete circle, made up – if she counted Jolay – of seven Catwomen. Only the space directly across from Vixen was vacant.
That soon changed.
From out of a passage facing Vixen came another African-American woman. This one’s costume, however, was quite different. Only Jolay exhibited more skin than this finely-toned body. The newcomer wore a black bikini top, with dissimilar thin “belts” crossing her abdomen to reach her waist. Little of her fabulous abs, though, was obscured and her naval also was in plain sight. Long, black, leather pants, that looked as if they had been ripped to shreds, sheathed her legs above high-heeled, toeless boots leaving ruby-red toenails on display. On her head she wore a black cowl and mask that, because of the long ears, was more suggestive of a fox or even a bat than a cat. Her eyebrows were clearly visible. Intact, black leather gloves ran to above her elbows and she held a whip in her right hand. This accessory only confirmed the woman was a dominatrix.
She strutted toward the circle before striking a pose right in front of Batgirl, knees bent, leaning to her right. “I used to be Patience Phillips,” she announced. She dropped the whip. “Unlike the rest of these women, I think Catwoman should fight evil. Follow me.”
The woman pivoted 180 degrees. After taking three steps, she stopped.
Batgirl was unsure what to do. ‘Do these women mean me any harm? Is this some kind of test? Vixen’s certainly a criminal, but Lisa and Tara are more victims than felons. I don’t know anything about the rest of them.’
The Dominoed Daredoll considered Patience’s words. The last time they had fought, it had taken all of Batgirl’s skill and cunning just to defeat Vixen alone. She didn’t relish the prospect of trying to fight her way past seven other, obviously athletic, women in addition to the criminal call girl. ‘I may be in the greatest danger in which I’ve ever been.’ She took two steps toward Patience.
The attack came from the most unexpected direction. Patience shot her right foot back into Batgirl’s solar plexis! The impact of the woman’s foot and stiletto heel knocked the wind out of the Caped Crimefightress as she was sent back into the center of the circle.
Immediately, the pack of Catwomen set upon the stunned heroine! Lisa and Tara grabbed her left arm. Vixen and Debbie ensnared her right. Michelle and Jolay captured her right leg, while Amber and Patience took hold of her left.
“Unfortunately for you,” Patience said with a wry smile, “I think what you did to Selina was evil!”
Batgirl’s cowl and utility belt went askew as she writhed in the grasp of the eight Catwomen. Batgirl shouted, “I didn’t do anything to Selina Kyle! She jumped into that tank of her own accord!”
“Whatever the details,” Jolay declared, “you were the proximate cause of Selina’s death.”
“And I was very fond of my body!” Tara added.
“So, as friends and admirers of Catwoman’s,” Lisa explained, “we decided she should live on. Catwoman will indeed have nine lives.”
“But our first act,” Amber said, “will be to end your one life!”
“What are you going to do to me?” Batgirl asked as she continued her ineffectual struggles.
“Why, simplicity itself,” Vixen informed her.
“I’m simply mad to rake my fingers into your flesh and . . .” Debbie began.
“. . . tear you apart!” Michelle finished.
“WHAT?!” Batgirl yelled.
“That’s right,” Vixen said as she leaned over Batgirl’s face. The hatred was obvious in the heroine’s old enemy’s voice. “We’re pretty certain the eight of us, eventually, will be able to rip the limbs from your torso. It may be messy, but, in the end, very, very satisfying.”
“That’s crazy!” Batgirl said, re-doubling her futile efforts to twist herself free.
“Purrhaps,” Michelle admitted as her claws dug into Batgirl’s right lower leg, just above the boot.
“But it’s a fitting fate for the person who killed the greatest woman who ever lived!” Amber added.
Batgirl looked into the face the Catwoman wore when she plotted to kidnap the entire United World Organization Security Council. Trying to remain calm, she said, “Lisa, you can’t be part of this! You’re a respected member of society!”
“You don’t know me, Batgirl. I’ve come a long way since I was kidnapped by Egghead so many years ago . . . and don’t think I’m a victim of the Stockholm Syndrome. I’m doing this of my own free will.”
“All eight of us are united in purpose, Batgirl,” Vixen said, “to avenge Selina Kyle. Scream, beg, say whatever you want. It won’t make any difference.”
Selina had obviously taught at least one of them Batgirl was vulnerable from behind. Once the crimefighter had been lifted off the ground, she was virtually defenseless. In fact, Batgirl could never recall being quite so helpless as she was at this moment. She was now a cat-toy – a plaything – for eight women bent on revenge.
Her capture had been set up perfectly. Batgirl had been put off-guard, thinking she was just chasing a Copycat. No one, other than her captors, knew where she was.
‘Wait,’ Batgirl thought, ‘could there be one other person who might suspect where I am? I was on my way to meet Lieutenant Mooney when I encountered the apparent Copycat.’
She focused on the original face of Selina Kyle. “May I ask a question before you kill me?”
“You may certainly ask,” Tara Kaat decided, grinning.
“How did you know I’d respond to the robbery at the Neko New Age Importers office?”
“Oh, we’ve carefully planned your demise, Batgirl,” Tara explained. “The robbery target was located between Catarina’s home and Police Headquarters. We hit the place while Catwoman’s former, traitorous Cat Servant was on her way to work. We hoped she would respond to the call and that her presence would lure you there.”
“Our plan worked purr-fectly,” Lisa Carson crowed. “Oh, and don’t think we don’t have plans for Catarina when we’re finished with you.”
“Diana!” Batgirl cried.
Vixen laughed and looked around the deadly circle. “She’s so noble, thinking of others as she’s about to die."
The call girl focused on Batgirl. "But don't worry. We wanted to take care of you first. We haven't even captured the dear lieutenant . . . yet.
"Come on,” Vixen urged the others. “Pull!”
The “hands-on” approach of the Catwomen made escape impossible. She wasn’t going to be left to her own devices to escape from a complicated deathtrap. The weapons in her boots and glove flanges were unreachable, to say nothing of her utility belt.
‘Can their plan really work?’ Batgirl wondered. ‘Are they strong enough? Even if they don’t rend me, at the very least I’m sure they can dislocate both of my hips and shoulders–‘
The thought was driven from Batgirl’s mind as the Catwomen began to pull in earnest. A blood-curdling scream emanated from the depths of Batgirl’s soul.