Until Gotham’s Heroes Set Things Right

“They’re going,” Robin observed.

“Finally!” Batman enthused. “I won’t have to hide my actions any longer.”

“What are you talking about?” Flamebird wanted to know.

“Has anyone made any progress against these ropes?” Batman asked.

“None of which to speak,” Batgirl ruefully admitted. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

“The ropes are too tight,” Flamebird lamented.

“I can’t budge mine,” Robin reported.

“I’m afraid I’d almost given up,” Batwoman said. “We’re going to be airborne in about ten minutes.”

“Yes,” Batman agreed. “I’m counting on the launch succeeding–”

“You are?!” Batgirl exclaimed in surprise.

“I’ve worked some slack into my wrist bindings.”

“We’ve got less than ten minutes before the launch. What are you going to do with your hands if you can’t get free?” Flamebird asked.

“I’m going to try to bring the Batboat into this area by remote control.”

“Isn’t the Batboat tied to a pier?” Batwoman asked.

“It normally is,” Robin explained. “The painters that hold the boat in place are tied to eye bolts that can be released from their places on the gunwales automatically with compressed air.”

Flamebird was confused. “Painters? There are people painting the Batboat?”

“Painter is a name for a rope or other line attached to the bow of a boat and used for securing the boat, as to a pier,” Robin elaborated.

“Oh.”

“We have a chance, then?” Batgirl asked.

“A slim one,” Batman concurred. “Still, I’ve just reached the Batboat remote control in my utility belt. The rest of what I have to do will depend upon whether my calculations are correct.”

“I hope you get your sums right,” Flamebird said seriously.

The room fell into somber silence as the Caped Crusader worked. Above him, the mood was much more cheerful.

“How much time?” the Penguin asked.

“Precisely one minute less than the last time you asked,” Catwoman replied, stretching luxuriously on a lounge chair. “Calm yourself, Penguin.”

“It isn’t every day one eliminates all of one’s adversaries in a single, fell swoop. Don’t you understand, Catwoman? I’m about to do what none of us has ever done, but all of us have tried . . . countless times.”

“I’m happy for you, Pengy,” the voluptuous villainess said. “When Batman’s end comes, it comes. There is no need to obsess over the tragedy.”

“What tragedy?” Undine demanded.

“The tragedy is I never made him mine. Crime won’t be the same.”

“Jobs will be a piece of cake,” Nick said, laughing.

“So, what’s the problem?” Beaumont demanded.

“The problem is purr-fectly obvious,” Catwoman explained. “Both of you are correct. Stealing will soon be so easy, it won’t be at all challenging.” Catwoman’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “When anyone can outwit the forces of law and order, what is the point of being a supervillain? I could always go straight, I suppose.”

“That isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” the Penguin advised.

“When have you ever really tried to go straight?” Undine demanded.

“Never,” the Penguin admitted. “Now, my luscious lieutenant, is that scope set up yet?”

“I think so. Have a look . . . but I’m seeing something that shouldn’t be there! I’m hoping it’s just my imagination.”

The Penguin leaned forward and looked through the telescope Undine had been adjusting. “No!” he cried in dismay. “Curses! It can’t be!”

“What’s wrong?” Catwoman asked, coming out of her reverie and sounding considerably less bored.

“The Batboat is in our human torpedoes’ target area! How long until they fire?”

“They have one minute left,” Catwoman reported. The excitement was building in her voice. The criminals waited breathlessly.

Far below, the countdown continued. When it reached 00.00.50, the torpedo tubes closed around the heroes. In the last half-second, water flooded the tube. Flamebird started to scream, but her mouth was instantly filled with seawater.

A WHOOSH shook the entire base. Compressed air shot the human missiles into the water. Then five projectiles, colored: red and orange; red, green and yellow; purple and gold; blue and grey; and yellow and black blasted from beneath the surface of the harbor, leaving white plumes of water cascading back into the sea as they streaked toward the Batboat’s position.

“Wak, wak, wak! I’ve done it!” the Penguin triumphantly crowed. Undine bent at the telescope, but felt an arm encircle her waist and pull her aside. “One side, my dear. I must feast my eyes on their watery remains.” The Penguin stared at the scene visible through the telescope and blew a cloud of smoke skyward. “I don’t believe it! That’s impossible!”

“What happened?” Catwoman demanded, suddenly standing beside him.

“See for yourself,” he dejectedly said, backing from his position at the telescope until the back of his knees encountered a chair he literally fell into. “Wak, wak, wak.”

In the harbor, the masked missiles descended toward the Batboat, which had deployed a large net from the sides and the rear of the craft. The colorful crusaders drew their knees to their chests and tucked in their chins so that they spun head over heels in midair before most of them landed on their backs in the net and bounced once before coming to rest as the woven fibers of the net quivered beneath them. The shivering figures filled their lungs and began taking advantage of the wider range of movement they now enjoyed. Soon, they had reached cutting tools and begun to free themselves. The fifth figure felt her chest compress against her knees as she landed in the net and was grateful when the water she had inhaled spilled from her mouth. She stretched out on her stomach before inhaling, coughing, shivering, and feeling generally miserable. Her only consolation was that these horrid sensations told her she was still alive.

Catwoman peered through the telescope and her eyes widened. Then, she whirled on the Penguin. “I’m leaving, Penguin. If you want the statue, you’ll pay what I demand. There is no more time to argue about it.”

Undine was finally able to see the scene unfolding far beyond the range of her unaided vision. The henchwoman stared incredulously for a moment and whirled to face her employer. “We’ve got to get out of here, Pengy! I don’t know exactly how they survived that flight, but I do know where they’ll be taking their boat. When they get here, we should really be somewhere else.”

The Penguin stared wordlessly at the bikini-clad beauty.

“Snap out of it, Penguin!” Catwoman ordered. “Will you pay me or am I leaving with the statue?”

The Penguin shifted his gaze back and forth between the black and white clad visions awaiting his decision and blinked. He removed his cigarette holder from between his lips and took in some air. The act of exhaling enabled him to pull himself together. “Undine,” the Penguin directed, “take Catwoman to the vault and give her the sum she demands. We won’t be able to take it all with us if we have to retreat, anyway.” He turned to the finks and cats and continued organizing his response to his enemies’ survival. “Men, you have work to do -- preparing the defense of this hideout! Batman and his companions will make magnificent targets for the original torpedoes as they approach. If I can’t splatter them across the water, I can at least try to blow them out of it! Wak, wak, wak! Get below and put those torpedoes you removed back in place!”

“Good thinking, Penguin.” Beaumont praised.

The feathered fiend regarded him with a half turn of his head. “Wak! Oh, it’s you.”

“Aye, aye, Penguin!” Hammerhead said.

“Better.” The criminals began to disperse. “Catwoman.”

“Penguin?”

“Since I’ve agreed to your ridiculous price, just leave the statue.”

The Feline Fiend laughed. “Of course, Penguin,” she said. “Doing business with you has been purr-fectly delightful.”

“The pleasure was yours, I’m sure,” Penguin said. His gaze followed Catwoman as she turned to accompany Undine inside and remained riveted while their figures receded. “Not exclusively, however,” he continued before glancing at the approaching Batboat and leading the henchmen toward the torpedo tubes once again. “I shoot torpedoes at him and sea creatures save him. When I shoot him as a torpedo, the Batboat shows up out of nowhere to save him. Wak! What do I have to do? Batman has the most stupendous luck at sea!” he muttered, puffing at his cigarette and frowning.

“It wasn’t luck,” Batman explained to the amazed audience surrounding him in the Batboat. “As soon as I realized Penguin’s plans for us, I surmised we must have been at the old, secretly reactivated, submarine base. I suppose that’s where he kept the sub he used when he was part of United Underworld.”

“Worthwhile deductions, Batman,” Batgirl remarked. “How did you know where the base was?”

“Some time ago, I discovered the serenity of sailing. I learned every cove and inlet of the Gotham City coast.”

“Did you know where we would end up the entire time?” Flamebird asked between coughs. She lay on her stomach in Robin’s shadow on the Batboat’s deck. She was amazed at the amount of liquid she had swallowed or inhaled and was delighted not to have drowned.

“I couldn’t pinpoint it exactly until we were launched. Beforehand, I brought the Batboat into these waters. In midair, I calculated the point where we would all land and arranged to deploy the Batnets with the Batboat remote control.”

“Even so, we might still have died if we hadn’t landed properly. Thank goodness we all were able to execute the necessary acrobatic maneuvers,” Batwoman said.

“I feel like I swallowed half the Atlantic!” complained Flamebird.

“Are you okay, Flamebird?” Robin inquired sympathetically.

“I will be,” she replied, favoring him with a smile. “Thanks for asking.”

“Penguin and Catwoman will have realized we survived by now,” Robin warned, turning his attention to the group.

“The question is,” Batman reasoned, “will they flee or fight?”

“We’ll know pretty soon,” Batgirl said as the Batboat leapt over the waves. “We’re almost there.”

“What’s that?” Flamebird asked, pointing at the water ahead. Two parallel wakes sped rapidly toward them.

“It looks like our answer,” Batwoman said grimly.

“Holy Sitting Ducks! Penguin had the torpedoes replaced . . . and now he’s firing them at us!”

Batman turned the boat and began to try evading the oncoming underwater missiles.

“How can we help you, Batman?” Batgirl asked.

“Hold tight and keep your eyes open for more torpedoes.”

“Could we fight back with Bat-charges?” Robin asked.

“Good thinking, chum. Break out the Bat-charge launchers and stand by. Batwoman, come up here and stand by to launch countermeasures. We won’t be ready with the Bat-charges before those first torpedoes are upon us.”

“Three more are coming,” Flamebird reported.

“One salvo at a time,” Batman muttered. “Are you ready to launch countermeasures, Batwoman?”

“Ready.”

“In order for the countermeasures to be effective, we need to let the torpedoes get close.”

“That won’t be a problem,” said Flamebird. “They’re pretty close already!”

“Launch countermeasures!” Batman commanded.

Explosions sent plumes of water skyward, rocking the Batboat and showering its occupants. “That was close!” Batgirl remarked.

“Bat-charges are ready,” Robin reported. He and Batgirl were crouched side-by-side, squinting through the shoulder-mounted launcher sites.

“Good,” Batman remarked. “The torpedoes should be in range any second.”

As Batman stopped speaking, Robin and Batgirl fired their Bat-charges. “Holy Bull’s-eye! We got two of ‘em!”

“They’ve launched another salvo,” Batwoman observed.

“I see them,” Batgirl said. “Four more for each of us. Ready, Robin?”

“I think we can land without another salvo being launched,” Robin suggested.

“We’ll have to get through these torpedoes first,” Batgirl said. “I’ll take the ones on the right.”

The Caped Crusader turned the Batboat perpendicular to the torpedoes’ wakes and grinned as another pair of torpedoes was destroyed. Batgirl and Robin pivoted in opposite directions; lined up their next targets; and fired again, blasting two more torpedoes.

“We’re running out of time!” Robin cried, shifting his field of fire again. Two more explosions burst from the sea.

“The last two are too close!” Batgirl shouted.

“It’s up to you!” Batwoman warned. “We have no more countermeasures left!”

Batgirl searched the sea with her scope for the last torpedo and inhaled when she saw it. The deadly device was close enough to fill her scope completely!

“We’ve only got one chance!” Robin cried. “Fire!”

“Hang on!” Batman shouted.

The twin blasts and their accompanying plumes of water sent the Batboat sideways. The Caped Crusader spun the wheel to compensate as they continued racing toward the onshore defense installastion.

“That was great!” Flamebird enthused, hugging Robin. “You were wonderful!”

“I’m glad I was right about Penguin not getting off another salvo,” Robin said as Flamebird released him.

“Good shooting, Batgirl,” Batman complimented. “Without your good work, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Thank you,” Batgirl said, letting her lips twitch into a smile as she handed Robin her Bat-charge launcher. He had already stowed his away.

“Here comes the pier,” Batwoman announced, pointing.

“Prepare to land,” Batman called. The Distaff Duo climbed over the windshield onto the bow as Batman slowed. He cut the engine and neatly slid to a stop beside a deserted dock. Batwoman and Flamebird secured the boat to the dock and stepped to the stable structure. Batgirl scrambled to the planking beside them.

“Robin and I will see to the boat. You go get those crooks,” Batman suggested.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Robin promised.

The women were pleased by the confidence shown in them by the veteran crimefighters. “Aye, aye, captain!” Batgirl said with a smile. She turned to her sisters-at-arms. “Come on!” As she and the Distaff Duo approached, a door opened to allow Nick, Beaumont, Hammerhead, Manta Ray, and Moray Eel to emerge and array themselves against the heroines.

The Penguin stood in the doorway. “Repel the invaders, men! Wak!”After encouraging the troops, he disappeared back inside.

Batman and Robin were emerging from the Batboat as the fight started. “Come on, Robin. Let’s even the odds.”

“I’m with you, Batman.”

The Dynamic Duo rushed toward the fight, where each of the Penguin’s henchmen had attacked one of the invaders and Catwoman’s cats had split up to help with the Distaff Duo.

Nick and Beaumont each felt a gloved hand fall on their shoulders and pull them around so a fist could impact their jaws and send them flying simultaneously. Batwoman and Flamebird were suddenly able to concentrate the full force of their fighting ability on their single opponents, who took the brunt of the heroines’ onslaught and found themselves crumpled on the pavement, gasping painfully for breath.

Batgirl was locked in combat with Hammerhead, who ducked under a spinning kick and shoved her to the ground. She caught herself on her hands before somersaulting to her feet and turning to face the onrushing thug. Lightly, she jumped back and gave him a shove as he hurtled past her. Hammerhead went careening toward the water’s edge, unable to keep from plunging in with a splash.

Batgirl calmly walked to the dockside and looked down at him. His arms were flailing wildly and his eyes were huge. “Help!” he cried hysterically. “I can’t swim!”

“Take my hand,” Batgirl instructed, reaching for his.

“Okay,” the thug gratefully said. He stared at her as a metal bracelet clicked around his wrist.

“Stand up. You should have nothing to fear. The water is very shallow here,” she calmly said.

It took Hammerhead’s panicked mind several minutes to process what Batgirl was telling him. He calmed down when he realized he was indeed standing safely in waist-deep water, but became enraged once he realized Batgirl had handcuffed him to the dock. His anger boiled over when he finally became aware Batgirl had left him. Hammerhead screamed and yanked his arm viciously downward. His effort was rewarded exclusively by pain.

When Batgirl returned to her crimefighting colleagues, they had just finished handcuffing the remaining, defeated henchmen. “Nice work!” she complimented.

“What happened to yours?” Batwoman asked.

“He’s all wet,” the Purple-clad Paragon absently explained.

Suddenly a familiar sound erupted nearby and the Batmobile roared away from the abandoned military establishment. Catwoman sat behind the wheel!

“Holy Getaway!”

“She shouldn’t be hard to follow,” Batwoman said as the racing pursuers reached the garage. She pointed gleefully at her and her partner’s motorcycles. “Look! Flamebird and I can get after her in seconds!”

“It may be even easier than you think, Batwoman. I not only have a remote control for the Batboat, but the technology was originally perfected for the Batmobile.”

“Flamebird,” Batwoman quickly asked, “would you let Batman use your cycle to help me capture Catwoman?”

“Sure. I can help Robin with the Batboat, once we cage a certain bird and his water nymph.”

“Good idea, Flamebird,” Robin said, flashing her a smile.

“Okay, Batman,” Batwoman urged. ”Let’s get Catwoman.” The senior bats kick-started the powerful motorcycles and roared away.

“Now, let’s find Penguin and Undine,” Batgirl said.

“Right,” Robin agreed. “If we split up, we can cover more ground.”

“I’ll hang back and cut off their retreat,” Flamebird offered.

“Good thinking. Let’s get moving,” Batgirl suggested. The Dynamite Duo headed into the not-so-abandoned military base.

Flamebird moved to the garage. She wondered if she should move the Batgirlcycle to the Batboat. ‘If I do, I’ll have to share Robin with Batgirl . . . On the other hand . . .’ She grabbed the handlebars and moved Batgirl’s bike toward the pier, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the door through which her friends had disappeared.

Inside, Robin and Batgirl separated. It wasn’t long before Batgirl found the Penguin and Undine in the foul bird’s vault, where the perfidious pair was packing away the remainder of the Penguin’s ill-gotten gains.

“Hurry up!” the Penguin said. “They’ll be here in minutes–”

“Try seconds, Penguin,” Batgirl said, regarding them from the vault door, where she stood with her legs spread to shoulder-width and her hands resting on her shapely hips. ”It’s all over. Give up or face the consequences.”

“Wak, wak, wak! I haven’t yet begun to fight!” The Penguin turned to his shapely aide-de camp. There was silence for a second, then he cried, “Well, what are you waiting for? Get her!”

The blonde raised an eyebrow. Then a confident smirk lit up her lovely face. “No problem,” the beach babe said, striding determinedly from the vault, toward the newcomer. She raised her knee and turned her hip to bring her foot over Batgirl’s block so that it slammed into the heroine’s neck with enough force to knock Batgirl to the floor. Undine leapt at her fallen foe.

Batgirl rolled to one side and reached her knees as Undine tumbled head-over-heels and stood. Batgirl whipped her legs at Undine’s and got to her feet as the blonde’s body hit the floor with a loud smack.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Batgirl taunted. The Dominoed Daredoll wasn’t just being catty. An angry opponent was usually not a clear-thinking one.

Undine cursed softly and began to rise. She spotted Batgirl approaching and dove at the heroine’s legs, intending to tackle her. Batgirl jumped and landed on the henchwoman’s back. As Undine hit the floor again, she rolled to one side, making her opponent’s balance falter. As Batgirl hit the floor, Undine returned to the balls of her feet and pounced.

Batgirl grunted as the other woman’s shoulder impacted her abdomen and was too slow to stop the blonde’s fists from clipping her jaw, thus driving the heroine’s head into the floor with a crack. Batgirl shook her head to ward off the wave of pain threatening to envelope her. Undine pinned Batgirl’s chest to the floor with one knee and drove the heel of one hand downward with tremendous force.

Instinctively, Batgirl swept the blow aside and rolled, letting Undine’s momentum take her to the floor. Now the bad girl felt her skull impact the floor and battled to keep from being overcome by pain, as Batgirl pressed the advantage. “Care to give up, Undine?” Batgirl asked sweetly.

“In your dreams,” the shapely Swede replied, slamming the battle-hardened sides of her hands into her opponent’s sides. Batgirl sagged. Undine rose to her knees and spun, extending a leg to wallop Batgirl with a murderous kick. Batgirl fell back to avoid the attack, before both women regained their feet. “You want me to give up, then come and make me!”

“I’m willing to take my time,” Batgirl replied. “You once tortured me with freezing water and served steaming cocoa to your audience.” She launched a kick the blonde easily repelled.

“I remember. You were all tied up and helpless. That experience was utterly delicious, at least for me.” Undine spun and shot a kick backward that Batgirl sidestepped.

The heroine slid behind her opponent and brought an arm around and under one shoulder, snaking her hand to the opposite shoulder. Batgirl’s other arm wound around her enemy’s upper body, letting her forearms lay parallel to one another. The heroine spread her legs, then pulled Undine backward so that the henchwoman’s legs were trapped between Batgirl’s thighs. “I could break you now, Undine,” Batgirl whispered. “All I would have to do is twist, or use my knee as a fulcrum.”

Undine inhaled. ‘She could break my neck or raise a knee into my back and bend me until my spine snaps!’

“That’s right, Undine,” Batgirl said. “I want you to think about it.”

“You . . . you wouldn’t.” Undine’s voice quavered.

“You’d never be the same if I did,” Batgirl persisted. “Can you think of a reason I shouldn’t?”

“I—“

“You’d do it to me in a heartbeat, if our positions were reversed!” Batgirl mercilessly said.

“Please—“

Batgirl shoved the blonde to the floor. ”You’ve failed the Penguin. He won’t be happy with you. If I were you, I’d consider a different line of work.”

“You should have done it, Batgirl,” Undine said. Then she rushed at the heroine and launched a powerful punch.

Batgirl seized her outstretched wrist and began to spin, holding the white-clad attacker aloft as the crimefightress whirled in the center of the room. Around and around they went until Batgirl released the blonde bad girl, sending her flying into a wall. The henchwoman slid down it before settling to the floor, unconscious.

The maneuver, while successful, left Batgirl a little dizzy as well. She crouched, resting her hands on her knees. ‘What happened to the Penguin?’

When she found him, Batgirl’s eyes widened with horror. The well-dressed criminal stood behind Robin, holding a razor-sharp blade protruding from the tip of an umbrella to his throat. The Penguin had used his fiendish blade to draw Robin onto his toes, where the hero stood silently. Helplessly.

“I see you’ve noticed I’m entertaining another guest, Batgirl. Wak!”

“Your hospitality, as always, is underwhelming,” Batgirl replied, straightening and returning to her typical pose with hands on hips.

“This way, Boy Birdbrain,” the Penguin said, dragging Robin toward the still-open, but now empty, vault. “Fortunately for me, I knew you weren’t alone, Batgirl. Capturing your partner was simply a matter of waiting near the door for Robin to arrive and stepping behind him from the shadows. He’s been most cooperative.”

“Take that blade away from my throat and you’ll see how cooperative I am!” Robin suggested acidly.

“I think I’d prefer you to remain docile. Batgirl is behaving herself, now that you are my captive. Wak, wak, wak!”

“So what’s your game, Penguin?” Batgirl demanded.

“Catwoman inspired it, Batgirl. She famously forced Batman to play Lady and the Tiger years ago.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” the Purple Paragon acknowledged. “So?”

“Well, I’m about to offer you the chance to play a similarly thrilling game. I call it, Robin and the Penguin. Wak, wak, wak! You see, this umbrella not only contains this potentially lethal blade; it also holds a smoke bomb – a particularly acrid one. Its smoke combines with any free oxygen in an enclosed space–”

Sooner than expected, Robin felt himself stumbling toward the open vault. He fell to the floor inside and turned to see the Penguin throw his smoking umbrella toward him. Then, darkness swallowed him.

Batgirl moved toward the slamming vault door an instant too late. The Penguin backed away. “I thought you’d choose the asphyxiating fledgling. Wak! Adieu, Batgirl.” The Penguin gathered his loot and departed, leaving his unconscious lady behind. His triumphant cackling echoed from the corridors outside the room.

Batgirl did not possess a Three-Second-Flat Batvault Combination Unscrambler or other miraculous means of rescuing Robin instantaneously. She did have a cutting torch in her utility belt. In seconds she was crouched beside the vault door, letting her little, blue flame first cut an air hole through the door. She was grateful when smoke began to billow from the deep cut her torch had made. “Robin! I’ve cut an air hole in the door!”

There was no answer. Concern washed over the heroine.

She continued to work, slicing a circle around the vault’s massive lock. The work proceeded slowly, too slowly. Ten agonizing minutes passed before Batgirl could extinguish her torch and put it away. Then she gripped the vault handle, set her feet, wrenched backward, and pivoted. The heavy lock crashed to the floor noisily and Batgirl yanked the door open.

Robin was crouched on the floor of the vault, wearing a gasmask and holding the umbrella above his head. “Thanks, Batgirl,” he said, pulling his gasmask off and leaving the umbrella in the vault. “I knew you’d get me out of here. I couldn’t risk using a cutting torch to remove the lock from inside. The smoke might have been flammable.”

“No problem. I probably didn’t have to cut my way in, but it was quicker and I didn’t know how long you’d last.” They shook hands. “Ready to go get the Penguin?”

“I was never readier!” Robin enthused.

Undine moaned, distracting the Dynamite Duo. Batgirl bent over the recovering henchwoman and snapped Batcuffs on her wrists. Suddenly, Robin and Batgirl stopped and looked at each other with concern.

“Holy Reenforcements!”

“Flamebird!” Batgirl exclaimed. They left the chamber running at top speed.

Meanwhile, the Penguin was hurrying from the premises with the Onyx Osprey and a bag of greenbacks clutched in his arms. When he reached the garage, he looked around in bewilderment. There were no vehicles parked within sight!

“What’s going on?” the Penguin demanded of no one in particular as he slowly scanned the empty room. He reasoned Catwoman would have taken one of the vehicles for her escape. Robin was in the vault and Batgirl was trying to rescue him. ‘That leaves three costumed creeps unaccounted for. The hijacked Bat-Gyros’ fuel had been depleted so that they had to be abandoned after the robbery at Wayne Manor and the finks’ car had been left at Eta Beta Lotka sorority house, so there were four vehicles here and . . .’ The Penguin suddenly whirled to look behind him. There was nobody there, but–

“Looking for something, Penguin?” a disembodied female voice asked.

“Who are you?” the Penguin demanded. He continued to search haphazardly for the source of the voice, which echoed in the empty garage along with his own.

The voice giggled.

“What do you want?” the Penguin demanded.

“I want you, Penguin. You’ve attempted multiple murders since your escape. You are guilty of robbery and right now you are holding stolen property.”

The Penguin’s vain search continued. “Where are you?” His voice had begun to betray irrational fear.

The voice giggled again. “I’m everywhere, Penguin! Justice is inescapable! No matter what rock a crook like you crawls under, the forces of law and order will dig you up, bring you into the light, and watch you squirm!”

As the voice spoke, a hiss above the Penguin heralded an explosion that blazed with blinding brightness. The Penguin’s attention had been attracted by the hiss and he raised his hands with a scream to shield his eyes from the flare. The precious statue fell from his arms and landed unharmed in the expensive pile of paper spilling from his loot bag. He was totally unprepared for the impact of booted heels, which knocked him across the room and into a wall with a loud smack. As Flamebird approached, he slid down the wall and sat, staring at his approaching attacker.

“F-Flamebird, you unpleasant adolescent! Wak!”

“That’s right, Penguin. It’s all over. You’re going back to your cell!”

The Penguin began to ease himself upward and away from the wall. “We shall see, my little—"

The teenage heroine stopped him with an uppercut that put him back against the wall hard. “Oh, by the way, I didn’t enjoy that little flight you arranged for me . . . not one bit!” Her follow up shot hit him squarely in the face and bounced his head off the wall. The arch-villain slumped into unconsciousness, as Flamebird put her gloved hands on her sides and pushed upward. “As for adolescence, I think I’ve left that far behind,” she continued self-consciously. She then reached for his collar and hauled him forward, but let him fall face first to the floor when running footsteps attracted her attention.

Batgirl and Robin burst into the garage. “You got him,” Batgirl said, just a hint of amazement in her voice.

“Nice work!” Robin praised.

“Thanks,” Flamebird said, bowing and snapping Bat-cuffs on the unconscious Penguin’s wrists.

Batgirl looked around. “What did you do with my motorcycle?” Batgirl asked, concern creeping into her voice.

“I guessed Penguin would come here when it was time to get away. Since our crooked bird here didn’t have any vehicles of his own, I thought he might get a little confused if I put your motorbike in the Batboat. Once I’d done that, I thought I’d wait for him. My plan worked.”

“Good thinking,”

“I had another idea that might interest you, Robin. You can give me a ride to wherever you’re going to meet Batman. Then I can get my cycle back.”

Robin grinned at her. “Very good thinking. Way to plan ahead.”

“I’m very glad you like it, Robin. Batgirl, I’ll help you get your Batgirlcycle off the boat.”

“Great! Thank you.” Batgirl stooped and picked up the Onyx Osprey. “So, this is what all of Gotham City’s underworld has been after all this time. I wonder what it’s really worth?”

“More than this,” Robin surmised, picking up the bag of money. “I think we’ve just about wrapped things up.”

For Batgirl, loose ends remained to be tied. The Curved Crusader had already decided to have a word with Pussycat about the heroine’s capture and attempted murder. The former hench-kitten’s behavior seemed curious and Batgirl wondered what the criminal coed was hiding at her well-defended apartment. That appointment, however, could wait. “Only Spade and the Parker siblings remain at large now, assuming Batman and Batwoman get Catwoman,” Batgirl mused. “Maybe I’ll swing by that sorority house on my way back to town.”

Meanwhile, in town, the Batmobile plunged along the streets of Gotham City with the Princess of Plunder behind the wheel. She was racing to her Catlair closest to New Guernsey.

Not far behind, Batman and Batwoman were searching for her, coordinating their efforts via headset radios.

“Do you have plans after we catch Catwoman?” Batwoman asked.

“Not as Batman,” the Caped Crusader replied.

“I understand, Batman. We both lead double lives and prioritize fighting crime. Still, Robin and Flamebird have taken advantage of their time together on the job.”

“What did you have in mind, Batwoman?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we could get a bite to eat while we wait for the others to arrive at Police Headquarters and tell us how it went with Penguin.”

“I don’t know, Batwoman. we have to get all our vehicles back to the proper drivers. Also, in my experience, crimefighting allows little time for social pursuits.”

“I’ll bet you say that to every woman who wants to spend time with you,” Batwoman accused.

Batman was silent. He was not numb to his beautiful companion’s charms, and her observations reminded him of the too short trips he had recently taken on the Batgirlcycle with his strong arms around its delectable driver.

Suddenly, Batman extended his arm and pointed. “There she is,” he said. “Follow me.”

Batwoman shrugged and followed him toward the Batmobile.

Catwoman’s first indication of pursuit was the image of Batman closing upon her from behind in her rearview mirror. She threaded her way through traffic and spun the wheel toward an enclosed parking garage. The Batmobile pulled past the entrance and proceeded straight ahead.

“What?” Catwoman asked, perplexed. “It wasn’t responding sluggishly before!”

The villainess glanced around, steering back into a straight line as the car began to veer to the side. She spotted Batwoman and floored the accelerator. The car stopped at a traffic light.

“This isn’t happening!” Catwoman fumed. She reached for the door handle and found the door locked. As she began to climb from the car, it roared forward and pressed her body into the driver’s seat. She let go of the wheel and the car turned a corner. “No!”

Helplessly, Catwoman sat in the Batmobile as the car drove her toward Police Headquarters. Chief O’Hara was waiting at the curb for the Batmobile to stop. “Hello, Catwoman,” the Chief greeted her. “It’s nice of you to stop by. Oh, by the way. You’re under arrest.”

“It’s not fair,” the Feline Felon complained. Batman and Batwoman pulled up beside her. “You,” she said, her voice quavering as she pointed at her nemeses.

“You need to be careful whose car you steal. Once again, the Batmobile’s remote control has proven to be an arch-criminals’ undoing,” Batman explained.

“I’ll be back, Batman. Count on it!”

“Maybe Warden Crichton will finally be able to help you realize that crime doesn’t pay,” Batwoman said.

“Perhaps you should spend some time with that nice Doctor Quinzel,” Batman suggested.

“Catwoman,” the leader of three officers who arrived on the scene said. “You have the right to remain silent–”

“Save it for someone who cares,” Catwoman advised, as the officers began to lead her away.

“Nice work, Begorra,” Chief O’Hara praised. “You’ll be happy to know a patrol reported finding the Bat-Gyros. While we wait for them to be recovered, why don’t we get some coffee and you can tell me all about your adventures?”

As Chief O’Hara’s officers arrested the supercriminals; thugs; and molls the heroes had captured and Robin and the Girl Wonder skipped across the Atlantic in the Batboat, taking the scenic route to back to the it’s pier, Batgirl searched the deserted Eta Beta Lotka sorority house, where Legs Parker and her brothers had tried to hold up Catwoman’s auction. Unknown to Gotham City’s Gorgeous Guardian, evil eyes had the heroine under surveillance from the window of a nearby abandoned apartment.

“It’s Batgirl,” Spade reported.

“So, she survived whatever the Penguin and Catwoman planned for her,” Legs Parker said. “Let me see.” The blonde beauty leaned her chin on her man’s shoulder and peered through the scope mounted before an open window. “If she survived–”

“The others probably did, too. We’ll have to listen to the radio.” The thug jacked a slug into the chamber of the rifle he had left within easy reach.

“What are you doing?” his companion asked.

“I thought I’d give you a Batgirl as a tribute.”

Legs gripped the gun and maneuvered the barrel so it pointed at the floor. “That’s very sweet, Spade, but Batgirl will be taken care of at the proper time. Don’t worry. My mother and her new allies have plans that will put all of us on Easy Street forever. Those who oppose us, however, won’t be nearly as fortunate.” Legs laughed and went on, “All we have to do now is find out who might be after us before they show their hand.”

“So, the answer is Batgirl.”

“So far. Purdey’s cameras will tell us the complete answer when we look at the tapes.”

“Are she and her sorority sisters still entertaining your brothers?”

“I don’t know. Probably. If the sorority is smart, they set alarms to keep them from being disturbed at an awkward moment. I’ve heard there are passages running under that building, just like there are under Gotham State University. I’m sure Batgirl will be leaving empty-handed shortly.”

“If I’d expected company, I’d have used those tunnels immediately to find a place to play where my partner and I wouldn’t be disturbed.”

“I love the way your mind works,” Legs declared.

“I really see no need to be working,” Spade remarked.

Legs Parker gently kissed his neck. “Now, who’s working? We know what we wanted to find out by watching that sorority house.” Her tongue slid along his cheek and her mouth locked on his hungrily.

“I’m sure it’s playtime now,” Spade answered when the kiss broke. He slowly clasped her and brought his hands over her chest, tugging gently at the knot holding her work shirt in place across her breasts. Slowly, kissing him again, she drew him backward until they fell onto a conveniently positioned cushion.

Unfortunately for Gotham City, Grandma Parker and her gang weren’t the only ones with perfidious plans in place. As the sun reached its highest point over this beautiful day in midtown, Egghead entered the Gotham City Museum.

The chrome-domed villain quickly neutralized the security officers with knockout gas eggs. He then proceeded to make his way to the exhibit of a miniature replica Faberge egg. Although not nearly as valuable as an original, it would finance his masterplan.

Egghead removed another egg from his pocket and broke it, pouring its contents over the metal bars surrounding the exhibit. When the bars had dissolved, he removed his prize and strode purposefully to the exit. Once outside, he entered a car driven by Chickadee, who promptly sped away.

“Did it all go according to plan?” inquired the Bronx-born beauty.

“It was even easier than I egg-spected, thanks to my acid egg. Now, we can proceed to stage two,” Egghead replied.

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