CAN THE SIREN ESCAPE?
OR WILL THIS TASTY BRITISH DISH BE CHAR-BROILED?
THE ANSWERS ARE STRAIGHT AHEAD!
Minerva closed the tanning booth and latched it shut with a make-shift deadbolt. She then followed Sirena and Apollo out of the room.
The Siren considered pushing against the lamp panels with her shoulders to try to tip the booth over, but thought better of it. ‘Even Minerva wouldn’t be so daft as to trap someone in a freestanding booth that could be dislodged.’
Besides, the Siren sadly concluded, if she attempted such a probably fruitless move, she was certain to suffer at least third-degree burns. Her black blouse offered scant protection.
Also discouraging was the realization trying to break the panels of bulbs she could reach with either her head, shoulders or shoes would be unlikely to succeed, since the booth featured steel grid lamp covers. In addition, such a maneuver would be exceedingly dangerous.
If the Siren could get her hands free, she could then untie the towel over her mouth and employ her greatest weapon - her voice. Unfortunately, the bindings tying her arms behind her back weren’t rope, but some sort of wire. By the time they either melted or burned through, it would be too late.
The sweat was beginning to trickle into Siren's beautiful, but unprotected, green eyes, blurring her vision. Of course, it wasn't as if she wanted to see what was transpiring anyway.
The glare from the heat lamps was giving her a migraine, almost as bad as the one she had long ago, during the first few days after she became the Siren and decided to change her then-pedestrian hairstyle to her trademark horizontal bouffant. With the passage of time, she became used to it, and learned to carry the extra weight on her head without pain.
Now, however, that feeling had returned, accompanied by many new and painful others.
She could feel her face getting hotter. Sunburn, she decided, had already occurred. The worst problem was her throat, which had become quite parched. Not only was the heat drying Siren's throat, but she also wasn't getting much air because of the towel tied tightly around her lovely mouth.
'I don't know much longer I can stand this,' she thought. 'What can I do?'
She could feel her dark hair getting limp and stringy from the sweat engulfing it. 'I must look a fright,' Siren thought.
The beautiful Brit quickly scrapped such a concept, thinking instead, 'Whom am I kidding? Even at my absolute worst, I look better than any woman in the world.'
Siren was glad to see her confidence hadn't waned in the least. ‘I’ll never lose that,’ she thought. As she was pondering her self-esteem, she coughed slightly, feeling her throat becoming scratchier. As she coughed, Siren also felt the towel move a fraction of an inch on the right side of her face.
'Hmmmm,' she thought. 'Maybe that's it.'
The intelligent supervillainess knew if she could dislodge the towel, she could then use her highest note, two octaves above High C, to shatter the heat lamps. Then, although she would still be trapped, her life would no longer be in imminent danger.
‘I can’t cough too much, though, or it will be a Catch-22, as the Yanks say. I won't have any voice left to shatter the bulbs.'
The sweat also was loosening the towel, but Siren didn't know if it would loosen quickly enough. She kept coughing as lightly as possible, and wiggling her facial muscles as well, attempting to loosen the towel. She could feel the slack. It was shaking loose, albeit very slowly.
Finally, she believed it was time. She tilted her head violently to the left, and then equally violently to the right. She could feel the towel's grip on her begin to wane.
'Keep it up,' she thought. 'Keep it up.' The towel slipped just enough so Siren could feel air rushing into her mouth. It was time.
The former opera star summoned whatever strength she had left in her tired body, and tried to channel it all toward her vocal cords.
Siren let loose with everything she had. The note didn't sound right at first; Siren's perfect pitch told her as much. As the wail continued, however, it began to sound the way it should, the way it always did.
Siren's intense concentration prevented her from noticing, at least immediately, the tinkling sound of glass shards falling to the floor. The happy noise registered eventually, and the desperate diva realized she had shattered the glass bulbs.
Siren took a deep breath. She was thankful Minerva had her bound while standing, because her note would have been much more difficult – in fact, probably impossible – had Siren been seated or lying down. As it was, it still took almost all of her energy.
'What's next?' the weary seductress thought. Obviously, she needed to escape, yet her arms and hands were still bound and she was still locked inside the booth.
She thought about calling for help. 'How plebeian,' she thought, 'for me, the Siren, to be reduced to begging for the kindness of strangers.'
There also was a more practical reason not to scream for help. Siren realized her stunning note, always her most important asset, was even more crucial in times of emergency. 'I may need to use it again, very soon,' she thought.
The stifling heat obviously was gone, yet Siren's face still felt hot. 'I suspect I am quite sunburned,' she thought, immediately before her tremendous hearing detected footsteps outside the tanning booth.
Fifteen minutes earlier, she would have been delighted to greet Batgirl. Not so at this point.
'Please don't let it be that infernal colonist,' she thought.
"Hello? Is anybody in here?" a voice called out.
The British beauty sighed and smiled when she heard the voice. It was a male voice.
"I'm in here!" she said loudly, but matter-of-factly.
Siren's smile grew even wider when she saw the two male officers who had come to her rescue. As they opened the tanning booth door and came upon the bound villainess with their service revolvers drawn, Siren almost thought she detected fear, as if they had recognized the evil enchantress. No matter. They didn't have enough time to act upon that knowledge.
Siren summoned what little strength she had left and unleashed her stunning note. Immediately, the anxious faces of the two officers dissolved into blank stares as they stood motionless.
Siren took a deep breath and smiled. 'Everything is back to normal,' she thought.
She looked at the names on the officers' shields.
"Allow me to introduce myself, constables Nolan and Miller," the evil Englishwoman said. "I am the Siren, and the two of you are under my spell. You will do anything I say. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Siren," they said, nodding.
“Splendid. First, Constable Miller, tell me how you happened to find me.”
“We were driving by and were drawn by a soft, high-pitched sound. We stopped to investigate and then heard breaking glass inside the spa.”
"I see. Well, I now have an important task for you constables."
"Yes, Siren. We exist only to serve you," the officers said in unison.
"You will accompany me to my current headquarters. Once ensconced there, you two constables will become detectives, working for me, as opposed to the Gotham City Police Department. Your primary mission will be to track down two known criminals – Minerva and Sirena – and bring them to justice swiftly."
"Yes, Siren," Officer Nolan said.
"It will be our pleasure," Officer Miller said.
"Smashing. I can describe them for you," the lethal Londinium-born lovely said. "Minerva is an overweight Hungarian hippopotamus with bleached blonde hair and an affinity for diamonds, jewels and the color silver, and that latter affinity is the only thing upon which we remotely agree."
"Begging your pardon, mistress," Nolan said, "but if Minerva is an actual hippopotamus, she should be quite easy to find."
Siren took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "No, you silly, moronic twit, she is a woman, and a rather large woman at that. Hence she reminds one of a hippo."
"Sorry," Nolan said, bowing his head.
"And Sirena?" Miller asked dutifully.
"Sirena is a beautiful, headstrong young blonde with a singing voice not quite as good as mine, as well as terrible taste in clothing. I suspect the two of them will be traveling together."
"We will find them," Miller promised.
"We will not fail," Nolan added.
"I like your spirit. You will drive me to my current hideout, and you will begin your work. Do you understand?"
"Of course, Siren," they said in unison.
As they were all about to leave, though, another thought came to the Diabolical Diva, recalling the previous times she had hypnotized and kidnapped members of law enforcement. 'If they suddenly disappear, that may raise suspicion. That is what happened with Commissioner Gordon and with Officers Reese and Finch.'
Siren thus altered her plan.
"Stop," she called out to the officers, and they, indeed, froze in their respective tracks.
"Your previous orders are countermanded."
They nodded in assent.
"Instead, you will return to your precinct. During your free time, you will pursue leads on Minerva and Sirena, but without letting your superiors know. Any information you gather, you shall immediately pass along to me. I will provide you a phone number. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Siren," they said in unison.
"Also, you will inform your superiors that there was nothing amiss in this building." Not only didn't Siren want the policemen to tell of her whereabouts, but she was hoping Minerva and Sirena would return to the main spa at some point.
The officers again nodded.
"Now go," Siren said, adding with a wicked smile, "I'm sure I shall be hearing from you soon. Men always do their best to please me."
Nolan and Miller left.
A FEW MINUTES LATER . . .
Siren was surprised to find her silver van still parked in back of the building. As she drove back to her hideout, she pondered her next move.
'I need some muscle,' she thought, realizing she couldn't take on Sirena, Minerva AND Minerva's henchmen alone.
Yet she hated relying on men. 'Yes, they are a necessary evil,' she thought, 'but they can be so unreliable and SO daft. This task calls for a woman.'
Siren's vocal powers, as always, came in handy, as she called several male members of the Gotham City underworld and asked them to spread the word quickly about her job opening. Siren’s trademark powers of persuasion worked like a charm on all the men, who did her bidding quite rapidly.
“This one detail is very important,” Siren told the men. “The position must be filled today.”
THAT SAME DAY . . .
Several women came by to apply, but none impressed the Diabolical Diva. In Siren's estimation, they either were not strong enough, or not feminine enough.
Until . . .
"I understand you're looking for a female assistant, someone with a little muscle."
"Correct," the Siren said, closely looking over her latest applicant, a 5-foot-9 redhead with blue eyes named Val.
"Would you remind removing your coat?" Siren asked.
"Not at all."
She wore a silver sports bra and matching silver shorts, both accented with a little red.
Siren was not in the habit of closely examining women, but she liked what she saw from an enforcer standpoint.
'She is muscular,' the Diabolical Diva thought, 'yet still feminine.
She definitely has potential.'
"Tell me about yourself."
"Well, I enjoy dispelling the myth the male of the species is superior."
Siren smiled and laughed. "As do I, young lady. As do I. Quite often, as a matter of fact. We have much in common."
Still, Siren didn't want to let on that she wanted to hire this woman, so she made sure to temper her enthusiasm.
"Merely having the same attitude as I isn't enough, of course. Have you previously done any work such as this?" Siren asked.
"No, but I'm willing to learn. I was on a TV show called All-American Combat, but it was canceled."
"I take it that is where you got that ensemble."
"Yes."
"I must say, I approve of your choice of colors," Siren said.
Val said, "I wish I could take the credit, but the producers chose this outfit for me."
"I take it they also forced you to douse your hair in henna. That clumsy dye job leaves much to be desired."
Val sighed. "Well, now you know why I want to get away from that whole scene. They said they had too many brunettes already. Can you imagine that?"
"Young lady, there never are too many brunettes in this world! Tell me, what was your character name on that absurd show?"
"I was called Siren, because I was easily the most beautiful of the women," Val replied.
The Siren arched her left eyebrow, although she was pleased with Val's obvious confidence. The sinister songstress said, "That name obviously has been taken, young lady. Don't worry. I shall re-christen you in due time. First, do you have any questions?"
"Well, if you hire me, who would I be working with? It's my understanding that supercriminals usually have two or three enforcers."
"We shall talk about such things later, young lady. First, I need to go over some ground rules you must understand."
"Sure," the prospective henchwoman responded.
"Sit down," said Siren, who always liked to issue commands, even if the other person wasn't spellbound.
Val immediately did so, perhaps a little intimidated by the Diabolical Diva.
"I am the Siren. Listen to me carefully," Siren began as she stared at her prospective employee.
For some reason, Val discovered she was unable to look away as the Siren's piercing, hypnotic green eyes began to take effect.
"You hear only my voice," Siren said.
"I hear only your voice," Val replied.
Siren was about to take full control of the younger woman's mind when she realized something. 'How many times have the men – and women – under my spell proved themselves utterly incapable in a fight? Maybe this requires a different approach.'
"First of all, young lady, your new name shall be Crescenda."
"I am Crescenda," Siren's new henchwoman said, her voice filled with pride.
"You will deliver a big finish to my – that is, our enemies, Crescenda."
"I will," she replied.
"When you awaken, you will have no recollection of this conversation taking place."
"I will have no recollection."
"You will, however, remember two things, Crescenda. You will remember your new name, and whenever I say the word 'defend,' you will have no fear whatsoever. You will believe you have been imbued with incredible strength. Whether you are fighting one person or ten, your attitude and confidence will remain the same. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Siren, I understand. I will have no fear."
“Do not forget. Our number one enemy is that eternally, infernally meddling Batgirl, that purple pain in the arse.”
“I hate Batgirl,” Crescenda said, unwittingly gritting her teeth.
Siren beamed. "Splendid. You may come out of your trance."
"Did something just happen?" Siren’s new assistant asked, blinking her eyes.
"Nothing at all, Crescenda. We just went over some ground rules."
"Oh," said Crescenda, who didn't even question her new name. 'It seems natural enough,' she thought.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, AT THE SECURITY FIRST BANK IN GOTHAM CITY,
AN UNEXPECTED WITHDRAWAL IS ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE!
Minerva, Sirena and henchmen Atlas and Apollo parked outside the bank. Minerva had left Athena and Adonis behind at the spa, even though it was closed for the day, just in case Batgirl or the police began snooping around.
Although she shut off the engine, Minerva left the radio on, still hoping to hear a report that world-famous chanteuse Lorelei Circe, a.k.a. the arch-criminal Siren, had been found dead of mysterious causes. No news of the sort, though, had aired yet.
"Now, Atlas and Apollo, you vait out here until your particular brand of muscle is needed. I'll signal you via cell phone vhen it's time to join the party. Understood?"
"Yeah, Minerva," Atlas said. "We got it."
Apollo nodded.
Minerva turned her attention to her unpredictable new apprentice in the front seat.
"You know vhat you're supposed to do, dahling, right?"
Sirena smiled confidently. "Of course," the younger blonde said. "I find a male teller, zap him with my voice, and tell him to give us $30,000 in cash."
"In UNMARKED bills, dahling."
"Right, right. It'll be easy, I promise. Let's do it."
The two women exited the car and entered the bank.
A small line was waiting for the next available teller, but Sirena went right by the queue. She stood in front of the most attractive male teller in the bank.
"Excuse me!" said the male customer who had been executing a transaction at the window. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm sorry," Sirena said sweetly, "but I think my business is just a little more important than yours at the moment."
Sirena took a deep breath and let loose with her stunning note. All of the men in the bank were spellbound immediately.
"There," a smiling Sirena said as she turned to the customer next to her. "You don't mind if I go ahead of you, do you?"
"Of course not," he answered with a rapturous smile. "Be my guest."
Sirena turned around and looked at everyone in the bank, men and women.
"I don't want to hurt anyone, honest," she said. "I'm just here to pick up some money and I'll be gone, I promise."
Minerva looked at Sirena expectantly. 'What else?' the young villainess thought, frantically searching her mind.
The sonic seductress then recalled something she had told the crowd at a nightclub after she first used her hypnotic note on men en masse.
"All of you women here had better not try anything funny," Sirena said in as authoritative a tone as she possibly could muster. "Remember, I now control every man in this room."
Minerva, standing near the door, nodded approvingly.
Buoyed by her new mentor's recognition, Sirena then looked at the teller across the counter. 'Wow,' she thought. 'His eyes are almost as blue as mine!'
"You are SOOO cute," she said, stroking his left cheek.
"Thank you," he said, his eyes still glazed over. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I am at your command."
"What's your name?"
"Kevin."
"Hi, Kevin. I'm Sirena."
Somehow, Sirena could feel Minerva staring at her. Sure enough, when Sirena grabbed a brief glance behind her, the sinister spa proprietor was looking directly at her.
Siren sighed. 'OK,' she thought. 'Back to business.'
"Kevin, would you please give me $30,000 in unmarked bills . . . and do it as quickly as possible. I, I mean we, have to get out of here."
"Your wish is my command, Sirena."
Sirena's latest dupe went to work, and within a few minutes, had produced the money in several large bags. He put it on the counter and looked at the sexy sonic sorceress with a longing smile.
“Would you like me to carry these for you?”
“No, that’s okay,” Sirena replied.
Kevin vaulted over the counter.
Surprised, Sirena asked, “What are you doing?!”
“You said, ‘we’ have to get out of here.’ I will follow you anywhere.”
Sirena sighed. ‘I don’t think Minerva would go for that!’
"Sorry, you misunderstood. You have to stay here . . . however . . . ." Sirena grabbed, then kissed him.
"Are you DONE?" Minerva said.
"I guess so," Sirena said after breaking off the kiss.
Minerva buzzed Atlas' cellphone and the two henchmen quickly came into the building to remove the bags of money. As they did, Minerva and Sirena went to the car. Within thirty seconds, the henchmen jumped in the vehicle and it took off, henchmen in the front and villainesses in the back.
"Wow, what a haul!" Sirena said, running her fingers through the money.
"And if you had taken much longer in there," Minerva reminded, "ve might be headed for the Gotham State Penitentiary."
"What's wrong with having a little fun?" Sirena replied, anger edging its way into her voice.
"Vhat is wrong is that business and pleasure rarely mix, my dear. I briefly dated Mister Freeze, and that didn't vork out. He vas cold in more vays than vun! Do you understand?”
"I understand," Sirena said, shrugging dejectedly.
"Apollo, turn the radio back on," Minerva said. "The news should have something soon on the untimely death of former opera legend Lorelei Circe."
That sentence stopped Sirena in mid-thought. "Wow," she said, thinking out loud. "I didn't really look at it that way until now. I just wanted her to stop meddling in my life. I didn't necessarily want her dead."
"Vell, you're the yun who threw the svitch to activate my deadly tanning booth, veren't you?"
"I guess I did, didn't I?" Sirena said sheepishly. "I kind of didn't realize it at the time."
"This is a bad vorld, dahling. It's survival of the fittest, especially in our line of work."
"I suppose so," Sirena said as her mind flashed back to all of the encouragement and mentoring she had been provided by Siren.
Minerva didn't notice because she was consumed already by her next scheme.
"Apollo, drive a little faster," Minerva commanded, with just as much authority as Siren or Sirena, minus the hypnosis. "I have something to work on back at the spa."
“Right, boss,” Apollo replied.
Minerva looked at the younger blonde next to her, who seemed blissfully unaware of the havoc she had wrought. ‘I think I understand,’ Minerva thought, ‘vhy Siren had so much trouble vith her. She IS a handful!’
Meanwhile, something had occurred to Sirena. ‘You know, she’s ordering me around just as much as Siren ever did! But we are having more fun.’
Minerva and Sirena said nothing more to each other for the rest of the ride, each one lost in her own musings.
Sirena’s leisurely pace during the bank robbery meant Gotham City’s finest were on the scene only five minutes after the criminals had made their getaway. Some passerby had noticed something amiss and called 9-1-1. Thus, the police quickly were able to determine the entire investigation of the crime needed to be turned over immediately to Lieutenant Diana Mooney and her all-female Anti-Siren Task Force.
Even though this time, the Siren herself was not involved in the crime.
Batgirl, of course, had been notified of the goings-on by her father. She met with Mooney and Diana’s team at the bank.
The Caped Crimefightress and the police lieutenant watched the video of the robbery. Sirena and Minerva were clearly identifiable, confirming the descriptions given by the women in the bank.
“Well, we both said this crime wave didn’t seem like Siren’s M.O.,” Mooney offered.
“Yes, but I wonder how Siren’s apprentice got hooked up with Minerva?” Batgirl answered.
“Good question, Batgirl. One of many we have here, such as where exactly is Siren during all this? It’s possible she left town and went back to Londinium, but . . . .”
Batgirl nodded sagely. “I hear you. She sees Sirena as a project, and she wouldn’t give up on her that easily.”
“So, you think she’s trying to get her back?”
“Yes, that would be my guess.”
The lieutenant took a deep breath. “This won’t go down easily,” she predicted.
The bulletin about the bank robbery - and the identity of the suspects - quickly was disseminated to the rest of the Anti-Siren Task Force. Shortly, it made its way to the rest of the GCPD as well.
Officers Miller and Nolan were on routine patrol when they heard the news. They looked at each other knowingly, but exchanged no words. Miller, riding in the passenger seat, pulled out a cellphone and punched in a number.
"Splendid," Siren said on the other end of the line upon receiving news of Sirena's latest criminal endeavor. "Thank you very much for this information, Constable Miller. You will forget this conversation immediately. You and Constable Nolan, however, will continue to monitor this situation, and will contact me posthaste upon hearing any news from Leufftenant Mooney and her dreadful Anti-Siren Task Force. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Siren," Miller said.
"Good day, sir," Siren said, turning to Crescenda, still dressed in the outfit she wore to her interview with Siren the day before.
Siren quickly was discovering that much like herself, Crescenda enjoyed showing off her physical assets. 'I respect that,' Siren thought.
“This is quite a place,” Crescenda said, gesturing to the spacious penthouse apartment to which they had moved earlier in the day. “Do you own this or are you just renting?”
Siren giggled. “Young lady, the Siren never purchases, nor do I rent. I instead enlist the kindness of strangers, especially men, once they’ve been exposed to my unique charms.”
“Oh,” Crescenda said with a somewhat puzzled look.
Siren ignored her henchwoman’s facial expression and continued. “For instance, I lined up this place immediately before we met. All it took was one phone call to the developer.”
Siren always enjoyed detailing her hypnotic exploits, and not merely because it enabled her to show off her talents. It also was important to let others know exactly with whom they were dealing.
Siren recounted the phone call for her rapt audience of one.
“Is this Ronald Crump, the billionaire developer of Gotham City?” Siren had asked.
“Yes, and how did you get through to my private line?”
“Mr. Crump, that detail is unimportant. This is what really matters.” Siren had unleashed her stunning hypnotic note into the phone. As always, it had the desired effect on the other end, as Crump’s eyes glazed over.
“Mr. Crump, I am the Siren, and it has come to my attention you have a luxury high-rise about to open in a few weeks. Is that correct?”
“It isn't just luxury, Siren. It's Crump luxury,” he had said in a monotone, still giving his sales pitch despite being hypnotized.
“I would like to borrow one of those penthouse apartments before they become available to the populace at large. Is that understood?”
“Of course,” he had replied. “It’s yours forever, if you want it.”
“Smashing. No, actually, Mister Crump—”
“Please, Siren, call me The Ronald.”
“No, I prefer to call you Mister Crump. I shan’t be needing the apartment for more than one or two weeks, at the most. I trust you will push back the official opening of the building if necessary, and that you will see to it the apartment I select is stocked with a full pantry and wet bar.”
“Yes, Siren. Is there anything else in which I could interest you?”
“No, but as a matter of fact, there is one more thing.”
“Anything for you, Siren.”
“Mr. Crump, you're fired,” Siren had said, laughing uproariously before hanging up on the befuddled billionaire.
Crescenda clearly was awed. “That’s an incredible story,” she said.
Siren smiled. “It really is not,” she responded. “That is all in a day’s work when you’re the Siren.”
SHORTLY, AT MINERVA'S MINERAL SPA . . .
Minerva gathered all of her henchpeople together, plus her somewhat-independent contractor, Sirena.
"I have an important announcement for everyvone," Minerva said. "Ve must leave here ASAP before the police can get here. I have a feeling they might be on their vay soon, so ve are all going to our satellite spa until the proverbial coast is clear."
"But what if the Siren's dead body is still there? What then?" Adonis asked.
"Vell, it vill be your job, as vell as that of your musclebound colleagues, to dispose of the remains however I see fit," Minerva replied.
"If I wanted to take care of dead bodies, I would've become an undertaker," the henchman retorted.
"If you don't vant to perform this undertaking, I'm sure this young voman can change your mind, as well as control it," Minerva said as she gestured toward Sirena.
Again, it had dawned on the blonde beauty that Minerva was using her just as much as Siren had. Sirena didn't mind, at least for now, because she was being asked to use her hypnotic vocals much more often.
Sirena truly enjoyed employing her stunning note . . . especially on cute guys.
While watching the exchange between her boss and Sirena, Athena was impressed, but also worried. Minerva seemed to be getting a little too dependent on the young singer’s incredible powers.
Soon, Minerva's entire gang was on their way toward the satellite spa. During the trip, Athena decided it was time to speak up, 'even if I can't hypnotize men with my voice.'
"Minerva, can I talk to you?" she asked in a low voice, making sure Sirena, who was seated near the back of the large van, could not hear her. Athena's whispering wasn't all that necessary, considering Sirena was wearing a headset, happily listening to her own demo tapes.
"Vhat is troubling you, dahling?"
"You can tell, huh?"
"Dahling, being able to read people is very important. It vas vhen I vas establishing my business and it became even more so vonce I decided to branch out into the criminal vorld."
Athena smiled warily. "Well, I'm wondering, quite frankly, what my place is in your operation at this point, considering how this Sirena seems to be the flavor of the month all of a sudden? I mean, I realize she brings something to the table I don't - that none the rest of us do - but she's also very inexperienced. That could cost all of us somewhere down the line."
Minerva lowered her voice, too, just in case Sirena grew tired of admiring her own melodious voice. Minerva needn't have worried, because Sirena had learned self-adulation quite well from her former mentor.
"I'm surprised at you, Athena," Minerva said, invoking the tone of a disappointed parent, even though she was speaking to someone she considered part of the hired help.
"I never intended on taking on that young voman on a permanent basis. She merely is fulfilling a need. She needs to perform her unique brand of music vonce more for a score that will set us up for years to come."
The beautiful henchwoman's eyes widened. "What job will that be, boss?"
"I'll explain in due time, Athena," Minerva said, "but I'll put it this vay. She vill be vorth her veight in gold . . . and then, vonce her usefulness has been completed, I vill send her out on another nighttime job, solo. At that same time, an anonymous caller vill inform the police of the mysterious criminal Sirena's whereabouts, abruptly ending her criminal reign. Ours, however, vill merely be getting started.”
Athena grinned. “I should never have doubted you, boss. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted, Athena,” Minerva said, then turned her attention to the henchman in the driver’s seat. “Step on it, Adonis.”
Adonis complied as Minerva continued to think. She didn’t want to announce it to her minions, but she was becoming convinced that Siren somehow had survived. ‘I should have heard SOMETHING about her death on the news by now,’ Minerva thought.
MEANWHILE, THE WOMEN AND MEN OF LAW ENFORCEMENT ALSO ARE MAKING PLANS.
Commissioner Gordon was talking to his daughter, attired in her full crimefighting regalia, when Lieutenant Mooney entered his office.
“Lieutenant,” the Commissioner said, “Batgirl has come up with an interesting plan. I want to see what you think of it.”
“I have some ideas of my own, but I’ll listen to yours first,” Diana Mooney said.
“Okay,” Batgirl began, not sure if her close friend was trying to put her on the spot or not. “I was thinking that instead of showing up at Minerva’s Mineral Spa, we merely maintain some unobtrusive surveillance of it, and throw Minerva sort of a curveball. I’m sure she knows now that we’re onto her and her young partner in crime, but instead of acting upon that knowledge, and perhaps opening ourselves up to an ambush,” — Batgirl almost said “yet another ambush,” but chose not to do so — “we can monitor her from a distance and try to anticipate her next move. What do you think?”
A faint grin appeared on Diana’s face and quickly grew. “Honestly, that’s exactly what I was thinking!”
“Well, I guess it’s true what they say about great minds,” Batgirl said, smiling.
“I suppose so,” the lieutenant answered. “But now comes the hard part.”
“I know,” Batgirl replied. “Just what is Minerva’s ultimate objective?”
“There’s not much time to figure that out,” the Commissioner reminded the two women. “Whatever it is, I suspect she will strike pretty soon.”
Both women nodded.
LATER THAT NIGHT . . .
Minerva again gathered her criminal group for an address, this time, to divulge, at long last, her upcoming scheme.
"Our objective," she said, "is the Gotham City Museum of History."
Puzzled faces stared at the zaftig blonde villainess, except for one.
"Isn't that where they're having the retro clothing exhibit?" Sirena asked excitedly.
"I knew you vould know that," Minerva said, smiling, "given how many different outfits you have in your vardrobe. So, suppose you tell everyvone vhat our objective is going to be."
Sirena leaped from her seat. "Wow! I can't believe it. We're going to steal the Golden Fleece!"
Minerva nodded her approval.
"The Golden What?" Atlas asked, much the way one of Catwoman's henchmen did many years ago.
"The Golden Fleece," Sirena answered. "It's a dress which is actually made out of 24-karat gold and it's a priceless heirloom from a tiny European country-"
"Belgravia," Minerva said.
"Right, Belgravia," Sirena continued, "but this one is different from the original in that it's made of real gold, and not just gold cloth."
"Precisely, Sirena," Minerva said. "Catvoman briefly stole the original, but it vould have been of no use to her - except as an addition to her vardrobe - because she vouldn't have been able fence it or sell it - unless she found a very eccentric collector."
"Wasn't she going to try to sell it back to Belgravia?" Athena asked.
Sirena responded, "Yeah, but Batman, Robin—“ Sirena's voice quivered for a moment at her mentioning of the Twentysomething Titan — "and Batgirl stopped her before she had a chance. In fact, that's why Belgravia is exhibiting the new one here, as a ‘thank you’ for returning the first one safely."
"Ah, but ve have an advantage Catvoman did not," Minerva said. "Once ve purloin it, as she vould say, ve don't have to offer it back to Belgravia. Ve can simply melt it down and sell the gold for its full value, enough to make all of us very, very rich!"
The befuddled expressions had long since turned joyful by the time Minerva said, "Ve strike tonight at midnight."
MEANWHILE, AT BARBARA GORDON'S APARTMENT . . .
Barbara was frustrated. She hated being one step behind the criminals, but that was where she had found herself throughout this crime spree of Minerva and Sirena.
'I've just got to beat them to the punch this time. I've just got to!'
She couldn't relax, so she decided to retreat to her secret Batgirl room in the hope she could gain some inspiration.
She thought back to Sirena's first two robberies under Minerva's auspices, a jewelry store and a clothing store, both in the middle of the night. She ruefully recalled how she then guessed a women's shoe store would be the next target, but wasn't.
'Can't let that happen again,' she thought.
She theorized perhaps Minerva would go full circle for her and Sirena's big score. 'Jewelry store or clothing store? Hmmmm.'
At that moment, she happened to glance at some of the mementoes she had accumulated in her career as Batgirl. She used to hide them even more before her father knew her secret, but she was at least comfortable enough now to leave them in her changing room.
Her medal from Belgravia caught her eye, for whatever reason. She and the rest of the Terrific Trio, plus her father and Chief O’Hara, all had received them for helping to return the original Golden Fleece to its rightful owners.
'Maybe it's a sign!' she thought. 'I've been thinking jewelry or clothes, jewelry or clothes. This would be both!'
In the course of her duties at the Gotham City Public Library, she had become quite aware of the retro clothing exhibit scheduled to begin later that week at the Gotham City Museum of History. She remembered well the showcase garment. It was an updated version of the Golden Fleece from Belgravia!
'If I'm wrong this time, I should quit the business,' she thought. 'This has to be it!'
She quickly called the Commissioner, and then Lieutenant Mooney. Diana thought Batgirl's reasoning was sound, and with Commissioner Gordon's blessing, quickly called for a stakeout of the museum that night.
By this time, Officers Miller and Nolan were closely monitoring any activities of the Anti-Siren Task Force, as they had been strongly encouraged to do so by the Diabolical Diva herself. Once Siren received the news about the plans of the Task Force, she instructed "her" cops to stake out the stakeout!
PLOT, COUNTER-PLOT AND COUNTER-COUNTER-PLOT!
MIDNIGHT, AT THE GOTHAM CITY MUSEUM OF HISTORY . . .
Lieutenant Mooney and her team parked their unmarked police car in as unobtrusive a nearby spot as they could find, in the hopes Minerva and her criminal gang wouldn't notice them. Diana couldn't help but suspect there was another unmarked car doing surveillance on that same street, a few blocks down. 'That's odd,' she thought. 'I didn't request any backup.'
She didn't have time to worry about it, however, as shortly, the unmistakable sound of breaking glass was in the air, although fainter than would have been expected.
Attempting to avoid detection, Minerva had Sirena use her voice to shatter the glass of the museum's side entrance. Through trial and error, the young sonic sorceress had discovered she only needed about eighty percent of capacity of her stunning note to shatter glass, as opposed to the one hundred percent needed to mesmerize men.
Mooney took no action, other than instructing her team members and Batgirl to be ready. The lieutenant wanted Minerva and company to be in the act of grand larceny before appearing on the scene. Batgirl wanted to go after them immediately, but acceded to Mooney's wishes.
After breaking the window, Sirena, Minerva and the rest of Minerva's gang quickly were confronted by two security guards. Minerva was pleased to see they were male and appeared to be in their forties and slightly overweight.
'Good,' she thought. 'Maybe Sirena von't dally so long this time.'
Minerva was right. Sirena didn't find the two of them to be at all cute, and thus dispensed with any pleasantries. Sirena simply hypnotized them with her note and commanded them to go to sleep, which they both did while standing.
Within seconds, the criminals reached the exhibit room, which featured not only the new and improved Golden Fleece, but some retro rogue outfits. Included was a garish magenta dress, featuring an orange stripe at bust level, as well as at the bottom and on the sleeves, which had been worn by several female members of Gotham City's underworld.
Minerva literally turned up her nose upon seeing the outfit, which she considered to be in horrible taste. "Vell, Halloveen is in a couple of days, so I suppose it's appropriate."
Sirena smiled as she felt the fabric. "I think it's cute, in a campy sort of way."
"You vould think that," Minerva retorted. "Siren isn't, vell, vasn't right about many things, but she certainly pegged your lack of taste."
Sirena said nothing in response, but shot an angry look at Minerva as they continued walking through the exhibit.
"Now, that's something I'd really like to wear," Sirena said, looking at a purple lurex bodysuit, similar to Batgirl's costume, but without the insignia. It had been worn by the Riddler's henchwoman Moth and the Joker's moll Cornelia.
Next to it was a replica of Siren's silver Greek mini-gown.
Sirena paused at seeing it. Her voice cracked slightly as she said, "I can't believe she's gone.”
Suddenly a voice called out with an English accent.
"I'm not gone, young lady. I never went anywhere. I can't be disposed of that easily."
Sirena surprised herself somewhat by smiling at hearing her erstwhile mentor's voice again, while Minerva scowled. 'I knew she vasn't dead,' the Hungarian villainess thought.
"Minerva, I have a score to level with you!" Siren yelled.
"Oh, really? Adonis, Atlas, Apollo! Take care of that annoying limey vonce and for all."
Siren turned and looked behind herself.
"Crescenda, defend!"
The post-hypnotic suggestion was triggered in Crescenda's mind. She flexed, a confident expression on her face. The henchwoman then snarled at Minerva's henchmen.
At that moment, Batgirl, Lieutenant Mooney and the rest of her team burst into the room. To call what then ensued a free-for-all would be putting it mildly.
Crescenda, thanks to Siren's post-hypnotic encouragement as well as her own ability, proved to be an incredible fighter. She dusted off Minerva's henchwoman so easily there was little for Batgirl, Mooney and Mooney's Task Force officers to do at first, except round-up the battered musclemen. Minerva watched the rout in horror.
Siren, however, knew law enforcement soon would turn their attention toward apprehending her. She also doubted even Crescenda could defeat the police and Batgirl.
Thus, the Diabolical Diva decided to play her trump card.
She pulled out her cellphone, hit one number and said, "Officers, it's time to protect me at all costs. Come here and attack!"
As the first fight ended, Officers Nolan and Miller burst into the exhibit room. They had been waiting on the street, in the car that had been spotted by Lieutenant Mooney. They had slipped into the building immediately after Diana and Batgirl had entered, part of a pre-arranged command from the Siren.
The hypnotized male officers confronted the plainclothes Mooney and their blue-uniformed female counterparts. At the same time, across the room, Crescenda stalked toward Batgirl.
“I hate you,” Crescenda declared simply.
There was such loathing in the woman’s eyes, Batgirl was genuinely taken aback.
“Why? We’ve never even met!”
“You are my number one enemy, you purple pain in the–"
Batgirl quickly realized the woman was under the Siren’s spell. She caught Crescenda on the chin with a showgirl kick, even though the henchwoman stood almost half a foot taller than the Dark Knight Damsel.
The blow knocked Crescenda back a couple of steps. She, though, quickly recovered.
“Was that supposed to hurt?”
Meanwhile, Mooney and the policewomen were in the process of disposing of their unwitting adversaries fairly quickly. As was always the case with men subjected to a note two octaves above high-C, the men were willing, but incompetent, fighters.
Siren decided it was time to make her escape. She, however, had no intentions of leaving empty-handed.
Crescenda had made several lunges at Batgirl, but the nimble crimefightress had been able to dodge out of the way. She shuttered to think what the henchwoman might be able to do to her if she was trapped in those massive arms.
"Crescenda!" the Siren hollered. "Quit fooling around with Batgirl and grab that young blonde! She is coming with us."
"Roger," Crescenda replied, instantly obeying and cutting off her fight with Batgirl.
“Oh no you don’t!” Batgirl declared, as she grabbed a Batarang with attached Bat-Rope in her right hand.
The heroine was about to hurl the missile at Crescenda, when Officer Miller, reeling from a punch by Lieutenant Mooney, crashed into the colorfully-clad crimefighter!
“Sorry!” Mooney yelled, once she realized what had happened.
Meantime, Crescenda had gotten her clutches on Sirena.
"Let me go!" Sirena yelled. Her protestations were of no use, however, as Crescenda was seven inches taller and much bigger in every way. Although she wasn’t really being hurt, the young sonic sorceress had no chance of slipping out of the grasp of Siren's new assistant.
Crescenda instinctively covered Sirena's mouth with her left hand as she escorted Sirena through the door with her right. Siren quickly followed. Then, with all her strength, Crescenda knocked over a display case in the next room, effectively blocking the exit they had used from the exhibit hall.
Sirena, now realizing her only other alternative was to strike out on her own to try to avoid capture, went with the Siren and Crescenda into the night.
Back in the exhibit room, Officers Miller and Nolan lay on the floor, dazed. Subduing them had come at a hefty price, as the Siren, Sirena and Crescenda were now beyong the heroines' reach.
Minerva had tried to run, too, but was quickly rounded up by a member of the Task Force. Batgirl and the lieutenant were disappointed, but at least they had nabbed one supervillainess.
"Why isn't running a successful spa ever enough for you?" Batgirl said as handcuffs were put on Minerva.
"Because I have ambition," Minerva said defiantly, although she then softened a bit. "I suppose it's time to vonce again move my spa to the Gotham State Penitentiary . . . at least for the time being."
"For a long time, I hope," Batgirl muttered under her breath as Minerva was led away.
THE NEXT MORNING, IN COMMISSIONER GORDON'S OFFICE . . .
“Don’t blame yourselves,” Commissioner Gordon said, addressing Batgirl and Lieutenant Mooney. “You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. The escape by Siren and her apprentice isn’t your fault.”
Both women nodded in appreciation of the kind words, but they didn’t feel any better.
“It’s annoying how Sirena has managed to escape every time,” Batgirl said.
“And the Siren has had quite a run of luck as well,” Mooney echoed.
The Commissioner said, “The real issue is: What led to their escape. I take it Nolan and Miller have no recollection of pertinent events, Chief O’Hara?”
“Sure an’ they don’t,” the police chief replied. “In fact, they told our police psychologist that the last few days are blank in their memories.”
“I wonder how Siren found them in the first place?” Batgirl mused.
“I can answer that,” the lieutenant said. “Actually, they found her. In our questioning of Minerva’s gang, some of them gave us information in exchange for a reduced sentence. Believe it or not, Minerva had Siren trapped and attempted to kill her, but failed.”
Batgirl was surprised by this news, but tried not to show it. She also was trying hard not to grin at this revelation. ‘Now Siren knows how it feels!’ she thought, recalling the many traps in which the Siren had placed her.
“The larger issue here,” Commissioner Gordon said, “is we must find some way to detect whether our own officers are under Siren's – or Sirena’s – evil control. If we don't, it eventually could have dire consequences for our fair city.”
O’Hara offered an idea. “How about that gizmo Batman once used on Black Widow's victims? He used it to check if their brains were functioning normally. It looked kinda like a hair dryer.”
Batgirl added, “I believe he called it a Bat-Brainwave Analyzer. Perhaps he could adapt it to determine if someone is under Siren’s spell.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” the Commissioner said. “I believe he is out of town, but as soon as he returns, I’ll present it to him.”
MEANWHILE, IN A PENTHOUSE APARTMENT AT THE CRUMP TOWERS . . .
Siren, Sirena and Crescenda sat in the spacious living room. Siren motioned to her new assistant.
"Crescenda, you did some outstanding work last night.”
“Thank you. I’m only sorry I didn’t crush the life out of Batgirl!”
“Oh, you may get the chance someday. For now, though, will you give Sirena and me a moment, please. I need to talk to her alone."
The attractive enforcer nodded. "Sure, Siren. Maybe later we can talk about a raise . . . ."
"We certainly can, young lady," Siren said, while thinking, 'That doesn't mean we will.'
After Crescenda left, Siren stood, walked to the dining room table, sat and motioned Sirena to join her. She then simply said, "We need to talk, Sirena."
"I know, I know.” Sirena sat at the table. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?"
"Yes. I ordered–“ the Siren smiled at one of the top chefs in Gotham City, who was now willingly working as both cook and waiter for the women, “well, I should say, I commanded one of your favorite dishes, roast duck," Siren said.
"Oh, that's nice," Sirena said emotionlessly, looking over the plate that had been set in front of her.
“I know you like it. I remember you ordering it once from the Grotto Arms. Remember when we stayed there, shortly before New Year's two years ago?"
"I remember,” Sirena answered in a low voice. “That was a lot of fun."
"It could be that way again, honestly."
“It could be,” Sirena agreed, “and I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”
The Siren waved her hand dismissively. “You needn’t worry any more about that. I realize you were under the effects of Minerva’s machine. I’m sure they’ve worn off by now.”
“Thank you,” Sirena began, “but first, this partnership of ours has to change, and change a lot. Otherwise, maybe I should go back to my old life.”
Siren wanted to roll her eyes, but resisted the temptation. She realized she had treated Sirena like property, and that treatment had made Sirena an easy mark for Minerva’s promises.
“I know I haven’t treated you quite right,” Siren said. “I understand it now and I intend to change.”
“You’ve said that before,” Sirena reminded her.
“I know I have,” Siren replied, “but this time, well, this time I really will try.”
“I’m not asking for much,” the blonde beauty said. “I respect your knowledge and experience, I really do, but I’d just like to have a say in what we do, instead of you calling all the shots all the time.”
Siren took a deep breath. She knew she had to change, or risk Sirena turning on her again and again and again.
“Okay, Sirena, I promise you this time I shall change. I will seek out your opinions and never forget you have an equal stake in all of this, too.”
Sirena mustered a half-smile. “I want to believe you,” she said, “and if you really mean it, then we can move forward.” Sirena rose from her seat.
Siren did the same, and hugged her apprentice briefly.
“I really do mean it,” the English enchantress said.
She did mean it. She wasn’t sure, however, whether she could carry it out.