To Fulfill Wicked Dreams

As Batgirl struggled, she recalled how familiar her position was. This familiarity went beyond the adrenaline rush that invigorated her struggles. It encompassed the way the vigor of her efforts mingled with the fear building as her shackles kept her unrelentingly restrained. The Dark Knight Damsel frequently found herself restrained in deadly situations. Most often, her enemies bound her with rope, but she had been shackled with her own Batcuffs before.

On the most memorable, recent occasion, young Ma Legs Parker, a new mother at the time, had strung up Batgirl’s inverted body so that it could be lowered into a narrow shaft where the contents of four wine casks could be spilled to drown her. Then, a weight suspended from her shackled wrists maintained her position. Once she had cut the weight away, Batgirl’s keys had gained her release.

Now, however, both her wrists and ankles were shackled to the cot beneath her and no blade, no matter how well honed, would do more than scratch the chains. Her keys would be as effective as they had in the past, but her arms and legs had been stretched to their maximum before she had been shackled in place. In their compartment on her belt around her hips, midway between her shackled wrists and ankles, the keys would be no more effective than a blade.

Batgirl realized the manner of her binding would also render her incapable of reaching any of the invaluable implements she carried in places other than her utility belt. This belt was perhaps her most widely known resource and her enemies frequently took if from her before leaving her to die. Therefore, Batgirl, had begun to combat this eventuality by carrying a number of tiny tools in her boots and gloves. With her tiny tools positioned against her forearms and calves while her ankles and wrists were shackled to the cot, these tools seemed as useless as the equipment she carried around her hips.

Without an obvious route to escape, Batgirl began to reexamine her predicament. Hard experience told her the means to free herself would reveal itself, if she let it. She could not afford to panic.

Despite Batgirl’s imprisonment, the soft bedroll Sandman had left her lying upon was quite comfortable. She realized despite having revived, traces of Sandman’s sleeping gas lingered in her system. These lingering traces of gas and her comfortable cot tempted her, and would go on tempting her, to close her eyes and surrender to the beckoning luxury of sleep. She dared not give in, however, knowing if she did, she would likely never awaken.

She attempted to take advantage of the cot's apparent age by gripping the bar above her hands, inhaling, and trying to raise her muscular legs sharply. Her feet rose mere inches before the Batcuffs’ chain held them back. She exhaled and pondered her lack of success. Darkly she mused, ‘It looks like I won’t be able to shake nuts and bolts in this cot apart either--no matter how much I squirm.’

A feather landed on Batgirl’s lip and she blew it away. Was there a way of keeping the feathers from falling down the chute? She could see the switch Dreama had used to open it and began plotting a way to move it upward, thus closing the shaft. She rejected several ideas immediately since they all required her to be free of the cot, or her Batcuffs, or both.

“Breaking the Batcuffs is out of the question,” Batgirl muttered. They were made from a tough alloy and were solidly constructed to resist most physical attacks. Bane might have been able to break them with sheer force, but she could think of no other villain she had encountered whom she felt had a similar chance. She knew she was strong, having elected to build strength while stretching, thus enabling herself maximum freedom of movement as opposed to using the more restrictive body building approach aimed at tearing muscles down and rebuilding them with additional bulk. Despite strength maintenance being part of her rigorous, personal exercise program, she could call upon nowhere near the level of muscular power reserves the Hispanic giant had possessed.

More feathers passed through her vision and she considered alternative means of blocking their entering the chamber. Quickly, she shook her head, realizing most of her plans again required her freedom from her shackles as a prerequisite.

Obviously, if she could free herself from the cot, the thing to do would be to throw the switch and go to work on the door she felt confident would yield to her lock-picking skill quickly enough. All she would need to reach the keys to her Batcuffs in their compartment of her belt was one free hand.

She curled her thumb downward and pressed it hard against her palm. Late last year, she had begun experimenting with certain escapology techniques. The one she was trying to employ would enable her to slip her hand through the bracelet of a set of handcuffs. The difficulty involved temporarily dislocating the thumb. The method could be painful, but might represent her only chance to go on living. "Who am I kidding?" she asked herself aloud. "This is going to hurt!" As she drew her arm back, she felt her glove wrinkle. "That's going to make this more complicated," she observed darkly. Her mouth set grimly and she pulled her arm toward her shoulder with her wrist straight and her fingers pressed tightly together, trying to make her hand as narrow as possible. Her glove slid along her forearm and fabric began to extend from her fingertips.

Frustrated, Batgirl looked away from her wrist. It seemed feathers were drifting toward her more rapidly. As her body shifted, Batgirl realized the extent to which the lazily falling feathers had accumulated on the floor beneath and around her. “I have to give Sandman credit,” Batgirl remarked. “He devised a simple, yet deadly trap for me. I’ve got to get out!”

Batgirl pulled her arm toward her shoulder fiercely again and felt her glove slide further along her forearm. As she looked at her hand she froze, staring for a moment. “Yes! I can escape without pulling my hand through my Batcuff!”

As Batgirl had tried to slide her hand through the Batcuff, the friction among her forearm, the glove, and the Batcuff had loosened the glove in which she carried a lock-pick. She would be able to reach it once the glove was free from her hand!

She wasted no time, grabbing the hand of her loosened glove with her previously immobile hand. She tore the loosened glove from her hand and moved the tiny tools in the loose glove to where she could reach them. "Now," she said smiling. The lock-pick tucked into her glove was quickly in her hand and working at the lock of the Batcuffs. Seconds later, Batgirl's tiny tool resolved the tense situation, opening the lock with a click.

“I’m out of here!” Batgirl said, slipping her lock-pick between her lips and retrieving her glove. She reached for the keys to her Batcuffs and released her other hand and feet in a matter of seconds. She bounded across the chamber and closed the overhead chute with the switch. Finally, Batgirl attacked the lock and emerged moments later, kicking feathers from the chamber as she emerged.

Batgirl was speaking on her cell phone as she made her way to the Batgirlcycle. When she finished, she returned to Barbara Gordon’s apartment, planning to catch some sleep and check in with the police early the following morning.

Chief O’Hara was irate when Batgirl arrived. “I don’t believe it!” he fumed. “Sandman and his entire gang have gotten away and gone to ground!”

“What happened?” Batgirl asked.

“I sent squads to both that warehouse and Doctor Noctambula’s office, just like you suggested. At the warehouse we waited for the crooks to show and emerged to arrest them. Apparently, the crooks backed out of the room and gassed our officers. All we had to show for our efforts were Mr. Wayne’s possessions. He’ll be down personally later this morning to identify them and press formal charges, by the way.”

“So, Sandman and both of his men got away from the warehouse.”

“Begorra! Sandman must have warned the girl at Doctor Noctambula’s office. My men came in and found her locked in the office. She stood there, smiling at them, while sleeping gas flooded the waiting room. The hall door had locked automatically. My men fell asleep and the girl was long gone before they woke up. We found nothing when we went over the office and the adjoining apartment.”

“The Sandman has eluded police departments around the world, Chief,” Commissioner Gordon said consolingly. “It isn’t your fault he was prepared for a coordinated raid.”

“I’m sorry, Chief O’Hara. I should have warned you about the gas. He used it to capture me as well,” Batgirl said.

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“What happened then?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“The devil! Obviously, it didn’t work,” the Bulldog of Gotham observed with a rare flash of insight. “Thank you, Batgirl. I feel much better.”

“The question is, what will Sandman do next,” Commissioner Gordon declared.

“Before he left me to die, I overheard Sandman tell his accomplice he planned to marry Katherine Kane of Networld and then to have her and her niece, Betty, kidnaped and killed by his men,” Batgirl said.

“So, we know his plan,” Commissioner Gordon said.

“When will he strike?” Chief O’Hara asked.

“This afternoon,” Batgirl said. “He’ll begin by trying to seduce Katherine Kane. He’s conceited enough to try to win her over first. When he shows up, I’ll be there. He doesn’t plan to turn his attention to Betty until later.”

“We’ll give Ms. Kane maximum police protection to support your efforts,” Chief O’Hara said.

“What about Betty Kane?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“If Batgirl is right, she will be safe enough for the time being,” Chief O’Hara said.

“Networld security is top of the line. I’ll let Katherine Kane know what will happen. If I get Sandman this afternoon, Betty will be perfectly fine. You and your force have the rest of the city to protect.”

“If you’re certain, Batgirl.”

“I am, gentlemen. Thank you for your trust.”

Barbara Gordon arrived at the library early and got busy. She remained in her office and cranked out the work, leaving patron contact to her assistant, Myrtle. At lunch time, she left Myrtle in charge and took the rest of the day off. Shortly thereafter, Batgirl was Batclimbing to Katherine Kane’s office at Networld headquarters.

Kathy leaned across her desk in response to a buzz on her intercom. “Yes, Jeffery?”

“I have security on the line. You might want to hear what they have to say, ma’am.”

“I’ll speak to them. Thank you.” She paused while her security chief was transferred to the line. “What is it, Zack?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Kane. Batgirl is climbing the side of the building. I think she may be headed for your office. Do you want us to do anything?”

“Come up personally. You might need to hear what she has to say.”

“You’ll see her, then? Jeffery told me she doesn’t have an appointment.”

“I don’t think Batgirl would climb up the wall to see me without a very good reason.”

“Very good, ma’am.” Zack hung up and Katherine Kane spoke into her intercom again. “Jeffery.”

“Yes, Ms. Kane?”

“Zack is coming up to have a meeting with Batgirl and me. Please see that we aren’t disturbed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeffery could hardly keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had hoped to be able to see Batgirl again.

Katherine Kane got up from her desk and opened a window. She leaned out and spotted Batgirl Batclimbing toward her. “Welcome, Batgirl. How can I help you?” she asked, reaching out and pulling Batgirl through the open window.

“Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Kane.”

“That’s no trouble, Batgirl. What brings you here?”

“I’m afraid you’ve been targeted by an international criminal called the Sandman. He masquerades as a Doctor Noctambula to promote something called dream therapy. I understand this Doctor is giving a presentation here today?”

“I’ll check.” As Katherine Kane turned to her intercom, Jeffery buzzed her.

“Zack is here, ma’am,” her assistant said.

“Good. Please follow him in.”

“Yes, ma’am!” His boss had just made Jeffery’s day.

Jeffery, Zack, and Batgirl took seats opposite Katherine Kane’s massive desk. Jeffery tore his eyes off Batgirl to address his beautiful employer. As odd as it seemed, Jeffery felt Batgirl was more attainable than Katherine Kane. “How can I help you, Ms. Kane?”

“Batgirl is concerned about a presentation being made this afternoon by a Doctor Noctambula.”

“Doctor Noctambula and his entourage are making final preparations for their presentation in one of the meeting rooms right now,” Jeffery said.

“Can you keep them contained?” Batgirl asked.

“I can tell them there will be a slight delay before they can start,” Zack offered.

“What if they ask the nature of this delay?” Kathy asked.

“I’ll be vague,” Zack said, grinning at her. “I would like to know why Doctor Noctambula speaking is a problem.”

“I have reason to believe Doctor Noctambula is an international criminal who calls himself the Sandman.”

“Have you contacted the police?” Jeffery asked.

“Yes, but I hope to deal with them myself and put fewer of your people at risk. Their reaction to police swarming over your headquarters would be hard to predict.”

“I agree,” Zack said. “My people have a little experience protecting employees and visitors from criminals. Unless the situation deteriorates dramatically, we can handle it.”

“How did Doctor Noctambula become a speaker here?” Batgirl asked.

“Our Wellness Department thought the dream therapy might be beneficial for some of our contract programmers. They put in a lot of hours and many of them are on the off shifts,” Jeffery explained. “They had no way of knowing this doctor was a criminal.”

“Of course not,” Katherine Kane agreed. “Now that we know, we’ll do everything we can to cooperate with Batgirl as she captures him.” She was considering slipping away and changing into Batwoman, but quickly realized she had little chance of developing a plausible explanation for the heroine’s sudden presence and her absence, particularly without Flamebird. Besides, dealing with the situation as Katherine Kane would help protect Batwoman and Flamebird’s secret identities. What would people say if the Distaff Duo seemed to be constantly rescuing the Kanes? After all, Batgirl was quite capable.

“I appreciate all of your help,” Batgirl was saying.

“All right, then,” Kathy said. “Let’s get those crooks.”

“One moment, ma’am. I’m responsible for your personal safety--” Zack began to object.

Katherine Kane stopped him by raising her hand. “I’ll stay in the background as much as possible. Besides, where could I possibly be safer than with my head of security?” Her smile was genuine, yet enigmatic.

“That isn’t fair and you know it.”

“You’re absolutely right, Zack. Life is like that. Let’s get moving.”

Zack shrugged helplessly and followed his employer and Batgirl from the room. Jeffery watched Batgirl’s departure with wistful admiration.

Doctor Noctambula was upset when Zack entered the meeting room and announced there would be a delay. “What is the meaning of this? I have a very tight schedule! I intend to speak to someone in charge about this!” he complained.

The Sandman’s alter ego’s attention was caught by the well-dressed, gorgeous young woman who entered the room. “I apologize, Doctor. I wanted to meet you and I have an associate who wanted to see you again. My name is Katherine Kane. As I think you know, I am in charge.”

Doctor Noctambula frowned and looked at Katherine Kane. He quickly recovered his wits and smiled. “The pleasure of making your acquaintance is all mine, mademoiselle.” He extended a gloved hand and shook hers, raising it to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently in a gesture of old world gallantry.

“You’re quite a gentleman, Doctor. I’d love to meet your staff.”

“This is my assistant, Dreama. I also have my orderlies, Sigmund and Cesare.”

Kathy had noticed the orderlies and turned her attention from them to the speaker. "The circles under their eyes make them look tired, Doctor."

His employer's comment made Zack shift his attention from Dreama and glance at the pale orderlies. "Not only that, Ms. Kane. Their skin has the most ghastly palor," the security chief said, turning to the Doctor to watch his reaction.

The Sandman smiled engagingly. "Their duties keep them mostly under cover. Did you say you had some one who wanted to see me again?"

“Yes. You’ve already met my head of security, Zack.” Kathy nodded in his direction. “And, I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to re-introduce you to Batgirl.”

“Batgirl?” Doctor Noctambula asked.

“Batgirl?” Dreama repeated.

“That’s right, Sandman,” Batgirl said, striding into view and spreading her legs to shoulder width as her fists settled on her shapely hips.. “I told you your attempt on my life would fail. It’s time to face the music. You are all under arrest.”

"How could she have survived?" Dreama asked, with a touch of relief. Despite Sandman's arguments and her bravado at Batgirl's sendoff, she was glad the heroine remained alive. Had she been pressed, however, Dreama would have preferred the Dominoed Dare Doll leave her and her employer alone.

The Sandman looked at the ceiling for a moment in exasperation, as his henchwoman obliterated any chance he might have had to bluff his way through this complication.

“That really doesn’t matter, does it?” he pointed out, exhaling resignedly. “Cesare! Sigmund! Get her!”

The somnambulant men once again sprang to life, bull-rushing Batgirl, who leaped over them and whirled to meet their next attack. Sigmund led the charge and was dimly aware of Gotham’s Dark Angel gripping his wrist with both hands as he sent a jab at her. He gave little reaction as she twisted his arm and spun, dropping to one knee and using his sprawling body to undercut Cesare’s attack. The spellbound sleepwalkers fell in a heap.

Meanwhile, Sandman and Dreama advanced on Katherine Kane.

Zack stepped forward to intercept Sandman. “Stay where you are!” the security chief ordered.

The Sandman stood still. He then reached into his white doctor’s coat and removed an unlit cigar.

“What are you doing?” Zack demanded. “Smoking is not allowed on Networld property.”

The Sandman smiled as Zack took a step forward. The security chief was surprised when a puff of blue smoke emanated from the Doctor’s cigar. He felt his head swim and his knees buckle before he fell into blackness.

The unfortunate subjects of Sandman’s experiments were still busy trying to subdue Batgirl. Both had come at her from different directions, but more cautiously. They began to circle her and wait for an opening. Instead of providing one, Batgirl spun and clipped Sigmund’s chin with her heel. As he came to rest, she shifted her weight and brought what had been her plant leg up, turned her hip, and slammed the ball of her foot into Cesare’s chest.

As the battle raged, Dreama edged around it to slip behind Katherine Kane. As Batgirl’s kick toppled Cesare, Dreama’s arms wrapped around Kathy.

“I hardly know you,” the executive protested, squirming. “You’re not my type.”

“I hope you’ll find my boss more to your liking,” Dreama said, tightening her grip on her captive.

“I probably won’t.” As she spoke, Katherine Kane set her feet and spun suddenly, sending Dreama sprawling to the floor. Slowly she approached the fallen henchwoman and spoke in a quiet voice tinged with menace, “Now, you’re going to tell me all about the Sandman!”

“Well,” Dreama said, letting a wicked smile curl on her lips, “he’s standing right behind you and I think he’s about to send you to dreamland.”

Kathy spun, raising her arms defensively. The Sandman had indeed moved to a spot just behind her. As she faced him, another cloud of smoke was released from his cigar and the head of Networld felt Dreama catch her before she blacked out.

“You’re quite right to ban smoking,” Sandman cracked. “It is dangerous to your health.”

“Where do we take her now?” Dreama asked.

“To the roof.”

“Isn’t it too soon to kill her?”

“Of course it is.”

“Oh, good! I was afraid you were going to throw her off. Uh, wouldn’t it be better to head for the garage?”

“We’ll take Networld’s helicopter.”

“Can you fly it?”

“Of course,” he said. Dreama could tell her boss was becoming exasperated by her incessant questioning. “Follow me!” Sandman instructed, lifting the unconscious Katherine Kane over his shoulder and leading Dreama from the room.

“Hey! What about the men?”

They were rapidly losing their ability to fight as Batgirl fended off their attacks time and time again. She then counterattacked with devastating effectiveness. Batgirl stood on a table and sent Sigmund sprawling with a kick. Next, she leapt at Cesare and knocked him to the floor hard.

“Leave them. At this stage, they’re expendable.”

Indeed, Batgirl was giving them their lumps. Sigmund received an uppercut that launch him into the air with enough momentum to skid him across the polished tabletop from which he had been kicked earlier. Batgirl was approaching him before he fell off the far end. Cesare had returned to action and was sneaking up behind Batgirl. He wrapped an arm around her throat, but his limb was yanked downward and his body driven hard into his hapless fellow combatant. The fight was over.

Once Batgirl Bat-cuffed the sleepwalkers’ ankles together around the legs of Networld’s conference table, she turned her attention to reviving Zack. A whiff of smelling salts from her utility belt did the trick.

“Where’s Ms. Kane?” Zack asked groggily.

“Gone,” Batgirl said glumly. “Sandman gave her the same treatment he did you and carried her away while I was fighting his men.”

Zack immediately snapped to attention. “We’ve got to find her! Maybe these thugs can tell us where they went.”

“I’m afraid not,” Batgirl explained sadly. “They are as much victims of Sandman as your boss is.”

Shortly thereafter, the Networld whirlybird landed on the grounds of Katherine Kane’s mansion. Her niece, Betty Kane, raced from the house as Sandman stepped from the helicopter.

“What’s happened?” Betty asked.

“Are you Betty Kane?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor Noctambula. I’m sorry to have to tell you your aunt has had an accident. She’ll be fine, but I need to take her somewhere quiet where she can recuperate.”

Betty looked in through the helicopter windows. There was her aunt, unconscious, attended to by a woman Betty took to be a nurse. Concern for her mentor overwhelmed the suspicions Betty should have had about a doctor she had never seen before flying the Networld copter.

“Well, l think Networld is considering buying a secluded mountain lodge for an executive retreat. I think Aunt Kathy has some brochures on it in her study. While you look them over, I could make some calls and get permission to use the place.”

“That sounds perfect. Let’s have a look,” Sandman said. He smiled at Betty, trying to put her fears at ease. Then, as he started to follow her to the house, he motioned for Dreama to join him.

Once inside, Betty pulled a folder from a file drawer. “Here they are.”

The Sandman spent a moment glancing at the pamphlets. “Yes. That lodge will do nicely.”

“Hey! What is she doing in here?” Betty Kane asked as she stepped toward the phone and noticed Dreama quietly entering the room.

“Dreama is my nurse,” Sandman said.

Betty turned to Dreama. “Shouldn’t you be staying with my aunt?” Now that the initial shock had worn off, Betty whirled to face Doctor Noctambula. “Come to think of it, if you’re a real doctor, why don’t you have a hospital or clinic where you can take Aunt Kathy? Why are you flying the Networld chopper?” Betty returned her attention to Dreama. “What’s really going on around here?”

Before Dreama could respond, Betty collapsed. Sandman put away his cigar. “Teenagers these days just don’t get enough sleep. Bag her up, my dear. She’ll give us the leverage we need over Katherine Kane. While you get her into the helicopter, I’ll help myself to a little spending money.”

“My men tell me neither Sandman nor that woman, Dreama, have returned to the warehouse or Doctor Noctambula’s office,” O’Hara reported.

“I doubt they will, but we do know they are limited by the amount of fuel Networld’s helicopter has. I’ve plotted the search area on this map,” Gordon said.

“If they flew to any of the islands within range east of Gotham City, they would have been seen by the Coast Guard,” Chief O’Hara said.

“Right, Chief. What worries me is, they could have easily reached these mountains,” Batgirl said, waving at the map. “There’s no telling in what hunting lodge or cabin they may be hiding.”

“Surely they had a plan we can deduce,” Commissioner Gordon said.

“Sandman didn’t expect his identity would be revealed. He’s desperate now. That will make him all the more unpredictable and dangerous,” Batgirl said.

“We need a break in this case,” Chief O’Hara remarked.

“I think I can provide one,” Zack calmly contributed.

Hope rising in his voice, Gordon said, “You can?”

“Yes. Networld is in negotiations to purchase The Queen of the Lance Bow Hunting Retreat Center for its executives. I’m in the process of evaluating its security. It’s empty now and, if this Sandman found out about it, would serve as a perfect hiding place.” The handsome young security chief stabbed his finger on the map. “It’s right there.”

“It looks like it can be accessed by this road,” Batgirl said, pointing.

“Yes, that’s right,” Zack confirmed.

Commissioner Gordon’s intercom buzzed. “Yes, Bonnie,” he said.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve learned Betty Kane left school, but have not been able to reach her at Katherine Kane’s mansion. You asked me to find her so you could tell her what happened.”

“Thank you, Bonnie. Keep trying.”

Batgirl stared at the Commissioner’s map and felt the color drain from her face. “Oh no!”

“What is it, Batgirl?”

“Sandman somehow put Harriet Cooper in a dreamlike state while he robbed stately Wayne Manor. Now that his identity has been revealed to Katherine Kane, he may need some other hold over her!”

“You don’t think he kidnaped young Betty Kane?” Chief O’Hara asked fearfully.

“I fear that’s exactly what he did, Chief. My overconfidence may cost that girl her life. We saw this line of attack coming.”

“Landing the Networld helicopter on the mansion lawn would lower Miss Kane’s guard and make the kidnaping all the more simple,” Commissioner Gordon said aloud. “Great Scott!”

“Katherine Kane’s mansion is between Networld HQ and the mountains. They may have picked Betty up on the way,” Zack concluded.

“I’ve got to get up to that lodge! I haven’t a single second to lose.” Batgirl said and started to race from the room.

“I’m coming with you,” Zack declared.

That stopped Batgirl in her tracks. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Katherine Kane’s safety is my responsibility,” Zack declared.”

“Nevertheless,” Commissioner Gordon mediated, “I think you should let Batgirl go alone. She has more experience handling these arch-criminal types than even my police department. Also, on her Batgirlcycle, she has a better chance of approaching unobserved than you would in either a car or helicopter.”

Zack wasn’t happy, but decided to defer to the older man’s experience. “All right, Commissioner. If you think that’s best.” Zack turned to wish Batgirl good luck, but she was already gone.

When Katherine Kane awakened she found her legs, left arm, and chest had been secured to a straight backed chair. Her right arm was free, but she quickly discovered all of the knots which secured her were far out of reach.

“It seems my bride-to-be is awake,” Sandman said.

“Your what?” Kathy demanded incredulously.

The Sandman was now wearing his trademark raccoon coat. He sat down on the other side of a wooden table from Kathy. “It’s true, Miss Kane. You and I are to be married. I’ll see to it that you have no cares for the rest of your life.”

“That’s Ms. Kane. I don’t know what makes you think I’ll consent to marry you. Frankly, I don’t know you or even want to know you!”

“I’m confident I can change your mind.”

“Well, you’re wrong! You are dead wrong!” Katherine Kane went on to clarify her position loudly and concisely in a manner which left no room for doubt about her loathing for Sandman and disdain for his sudden, outrageous proposal.

“I don’t think she likes you, Sandman,” Dreama said superfluously.

Sandman sighed. “I was afraid that now you’d be less than enthused, Katherine. It’s too bad. My plan was to court you and have you fall in love with me. We would have had a wonderful time.”

“Huh!” Kathy snorted.

“Now, thanks to Batgirl, I’ve had to change my plans. Soon we’ll re-board your helicopter. We’ll fly out into international waters and land on board a ship I’ve arranged to have rendezvous with us. The captain’s quite the romantic. He was thrilled at the prospect of performing my wedding ceremony.”

“I'll never say ‘I do!’” Kathy declared.

“My beloved, when the time comes, you’ll do and say anything I ask,” Sandman revealed. “But first, there are some papers you need to sign.” The Sandman reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Marriage Certificate, Durable Power of Attorney for Property, stock proxies, forms to add my name to your bank accounts--”

“It will be a cold day in Hell before I sign any of those!”

“You’re wrong, Katherine. This will also demonstrate how I’m certain you’ll be willing to say ‘I do.’ Dreama, show my bride why she will cooperate.”

“Yes, Sandman,” Dreama said. She got up from her position at a desk in the corner and went out the door. In a moment, she returned with Betty. White powder colored the tip of her nose and her upper lip. Betty appeared to be in some sort of trance.

“Betty!” Kathy cried. “What have you done to her, you fiend? Have you forced her to snort cocaine?!”

“Nothing so sinister,” Sandman said. “That is, at least not yet.”

“If you harm a single hair on her head, I will personally see to it that you are hunted down to the ends of the Earth and punished to the maximum extent of the law!” Katherine Kane promised as her voice softened and took on a deadly edge.

“Since we’ve arrived, all I’ve done is introduce her to the contents of my stethoscope.” The Sandman, though, was not intimidated by the executive’s threat. “However, the consequences of your continuing refusal to sign these papers will be much more serious.”

“I gather you’ll harm Betty if I don’t sign.”

“Actually, neither Dreama nor I will lay a hand on her.”

Kathy was puzzled by this statement, but ignored it. “Wake her up, let her go and I’ll think about signing your documents.”

“I’m sorry, my dear. That’s not how it’s going to be.”

Katherine Kane fixed Sandman and his comely cohort in a gaze she hoped would induce spontaneous human combustion. When her hopes were not realized, she spoke. Her voice was a quiet, deadly hiss. “I will sign nothing until we are all safely back in Gotham City.”

Betty, sit down!” Sandman commanded, indicating a chair at the end of the table, all the while staring into Kathy’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Batgirl was racing to the rescue at top speed.

Normally she was one of the safest drivers on the road. Now, however, she was pushing it, leaving herself a sliver-thin margin of safety. Speeding along like a purple streak with her wig and cape billowing behind her, she zoomed along the shoulder of the road and darted between lanes of traffic. All the while, she was crouched behind her windshield to minimize wind resistance and thus to maximize her speed. Batgirl blamed herself for placing civilians in danger. In her mind, Zack bore no responsibility for the Kanes' captivity. The fault was hers. She had to save them.

“Betty, you are in an airplane,” Sandman suggested.

“Don’t listen to him Betty!” her aunt implored.

“She only hears my voice,” Sandman said smugly. “Betty, where are you?”

Betty’s eyes were closed. “In an airplane,” the teenage athlete said flatly.

“The airplane is way up in the sky. You’re walking down an aisle, next to the door.” Sandman’s voice suddenly took on a sense of urgency. “The door blew open! You’re sucked out! Now you’re falling!”

A look of horror came across Betty’s face. She screamed. Her breathing came in short breaths. “Help!” she cried.

Sandman turned to Kathy. “Katherine, I’m sure you’ve heard if someone dies in a dream, their heart stops. I’ve learned that’s true. In a moment, you’ll see it demonstrated for yourself!”

“Betty, wake up!!” Kathy screamed.

“Sandman,” Dreama said, visibly upset by what was going on and indicating Kathy, “can’t you just put her under your spell and order her to sign?”

“An excellent suggestion, my dear, but it won’t work,” Sandman explained. “A somnambulist can do a great many things, but they lack fine motor skills. She would be quite incapable of producing a signature that would pass muster.”

“No!!” Betty yowled.

Sandman returned his attention to the teenage girl. “Betty, you’re still falling,” Sandman intoned. “The ground is rushing up to meet you.” The Sandman took out his stethoscope. He unbuttoned the top of Betty’s blouse, revealing the top of her bra. He put the scope between her firm, pert, breasts. “Katherine, her heart is racing. I know she’s a top athlete, but I don’t think even she can take much more of this.”

Kathy wavered. The Sandman was asking her to sign her life and livelihood away. He also smiled at her as he extended the earpieces of his stethoscope for her to listen to her niece's pounding heart.

"You sadist!" Kathy fumed. The villain was behaving as if they were in his doctor's office and the horrific scene playing out was nothing more than a routine appointment.

"Uhhh!" Betty yelped in terror.

"Betty, in seconds you'll hit the ground," Sandman calmly suggested.

"Forgive me," Kathy whispered. She hung her head.

“Oh my God. No!” Dreama said, turning away from the scene.

“Stop it! I’ll sign!” Kathy said loudly.

“Betty, you are perfectly safe!” Sandman announced. “It was all a bad dream! You are now relaxed and well. Go back to sleep.” The tension notably drained from Betty’s body. Her breathing became steady and regular.

“Thank God,” Dreama said.

“You’ve made a wise decision, Ms. Kane.”

“Go to hell!”

“There, there. Is that any way to speak to your future husband?” The Sandman pushed the stack of documents before his captive and smiled as she began to apply her signature to them one by one. “Sign them all, my beautiful billionaire. Dreama is a notary public and can witness those documents that need notarization. Oh, and don’t try to fool me. I picked up a Networld Annual Report, so I know what your normal signature looks like. Any tricks and I’ll have your niece repeat her nightmare, but this time its conclusion will be even more dramatic and much more tragic.”

“Can’t you leave her alone, Sandman? You’ve beaten her,” Dreama said.

“I won’t really have won until she is my blushing bride. These documents will give me access to a great deal of money, but there’s no way she could sign a will under these circumstances that would stand up in court. My betrothed is beaten, but not broken, Dreama.” As Sandman spoke he was placing documents before Katherine Kane who was signing them without sparing them a glance. “Excellent,” Sandman said, laughing quietly. “Thank you, my precious. You have no idea what these documents mean to me.”

“You know what you can do with all of this paper, don’t you?” Katherine Kane asked.

Sandman ignored her. “You see, Dreama. She’s far from broken, but, for now and with these, that hardly matters.” Sandman handed the stack of signed documents to Dreama. “Fax them to my solicitor in Londinium.”

“Right away, Sandman,” Dreama promised and disappeared.

“Now my wifely wench,” Sandman said, turning his full attention to Katherine Kane. “You’ve had a very busy afternoon. Doctor Noctambula prescribes a rest. It’s time you experienced my alternate means of inducing slumber.”

Kathy tried to turn her head away, but with practiced skill, Sandman was able to puff enough of his macabre medication into Kathy’s nose and mouth to result in the desired effect. He busied himself with buttoning up Betty’s blouse.

Minutes later, Dreama returned. “I’ve sent the faxes, Sandman.

He turned to face her with a smile. “Excellent, my dear. Once the captain reports he’s in position, we’ll depart.” Sandman put a hand on Betty’s cheek. "I’m afraid it will be a short voyage for poor Betty, however. I foresee an accident at sea for America’s brightest young tennis star. Too bad, really.”

Dreama could hardly hide her uneasiness about killing the girl. “What about her?” she asked, jerking her thumb at the older somnambulist.

“I think it will be worth it to put Ms. Kane in the same state as Cesare and Sigmund. I have a country in mind that would be more than willing to let me conduct her treatment in peace if I promised to re-locate Networld’s headquarters and assets to their sunny shores.”

Sandman’s expression suddenly turned grim. “You know, though, I think we should prepare for any unexpected visitors.” He took out his cigar and squeezed a puff of smoke into Betty’s face.

“You mean like Batman or the police?” Dreama asked.

“I was thinking more along the lines of that pesky Batgirl.”

Betty yelled, “What the heck is going on around here?!”

The Sandman, Dreama and the somnambulant Katherine Kane walked into Betty’s inverted view.

“Aunt Kathy!” Betty screamed. “What have you done to her?”

The Sandman sighed. “I get so tired of answering that question. All you need to know, dear Betty, is that I am The Sandman, your aunt is now under my control, and you are encased in one of my electric blankets that is, sadly, defective. If it and you should come into contact with that water, I’m afraid the result would be quite shocking.”

Betty found it ironic that this time it was Betty Kane and not Flamebird facing a deathtrap. Both, however, shared the same acid wit. “Oh, come on! That one’s so old it reeks!”

“Every bit as spirited as your aunt, I see,” Sandman observed. “It must be a Kane family trait. Anyway, as long as we don’t have any uninvited guests, you’ll be fine . . . until it’s time for us to go out to sea.”

“The only place you’re going, Sandman, is up the river,” a new voice said from the edge of an adjacent clearing.

“Sandman, it’s Batgirl!” Dreama said.

“Batgirl?” Sandman repeated.

“Batgirl!” Betty said. Kathy stared silently ahead.

“It’s past time I put your murderous plans to bed,” Batgirl announced as she came toward them with the inexorability of doom.

“If you’ll excuse me, Dreama,” Sandman said, tossing his assistant the remote clamp control, “I’m going to take a hands-on approach to eliminating this problem.” He moved toward Batgirl with his fists clenched.

Batgirl ducked his first swing and slammed her fist into his chest. Sandman gave ground and renewed his attack. Batgirl sidestepped a blow and hit him in exactly the same spot. Sandman grunted and swung at Batgirl more wildly. Gotham’s Dark Angel laughed and pounded the bruise she had made again.

“Give it up, Sandman. I can keep doing this a lot longer than you can.”

“I’m going to kill you, Batgirl!”

“I doubt it.” She feinted and slid her fist in again to hit his bruise.

Sandman knew she would beat him if he did not turn the tide of their fight soon. He backed off and regrouped. When he was ready, he came at her, launching a flurry of blows which Batgirl deflected for the most part. She spun away from his attack and snaked a fist through his defenses, hitting the bruise which was growing with every blow. Sandman staggered and she landed another hard blow to his bruise.

“Last chance, Sandman,” Batgirl warned.

“Die, you b--”

Batgirl spun and shot a foot at the bruise she had carefully placed on his chest. Sandman tried to block, but the force of her kick collapsed his defenses in on themselves, so her kicked knocked the villain off his feet. He landed in the stream and began to crawl backward up the opposite bank.

“Care to surrender, Sandman?” Batgirl asked.

“Not a chance, Batgirl,” Sandman said, leaning seated against a tree. He knew it was a long shot, but why not? “Katherine!” he ordered, “get her!”

Unprepared for the attack from the executive, Batgirl felt herself hip tossed to the ground. She easily rolled to her feet and assumed a fighting stance.

As she was only under Sandman’s temporary control, unlike Sigmund and Cesare, Kathy’s sleepwalking fighting skills were rather poor. Although Batgirl hated to do it, in seconds she was able to render the Networld founder unconscious, as efficiently as any of Sandman’s powders.

Batgirl turned to face Dreama. “You’re not going to give me any problems, are you?”

“Yes, she will, Batgirl!” Sandman crowed. “But not the way you think! Unless you surrender to me immediately, Dreama will throw that switch, which will open the clamp and drop Betty Kane into the water. She’ll fall into the stream and be electrocuted before your very eyes.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Betty shouted.

“Dreama,” Batgirl said. “If you do as Sandman asks, there is no way for you to avoid watching Betty die. You’ll see every spark and every wisp of smoke, you’ll hear the crackle of the electricity and the sizzling as she fries, but the worst thing you’ll have to experience will be the smell.”

“Oh God. That’s horrible,” Dreama said quietly.

“Batgirl can prevent all the unpleasantness by surrendering,” Sandman said.

“I won’t though, Dreama. You’ll have to decide whether to kill her. Sandman has put you in charge. You have the power now and if you kill her, I’m right here to catch you. Not only will you certainly go to jail, you’ll probably face the death penalty. The choice is yours.”

“Why is this decision so hard?” Dreama asked, starting to sob.

“It isn’t, Dreama. She’ll never let it go that far. Help me induce Batgirl’s surrender,” Sandman urged.

“You don’t want to watch me die, Dreama. I know you don’t,” Betty said.

“Kill her, Dreama!” Sandman demanded, incoherently. “You’re throwing a fortune away!”

Dreama stood, darting glances between Batgirl, standing with legs at shoulder width and hands on shapely hips, on one side and the imprisoned teenage girl who Sandman ordered she kill on the other. Her body quivered as she confronted the enormity of the decision with which she had been faced. “It’s only money,” she protested and collapsed, sobbing.

“You worthless cow!” Sandman fumed. “You’ve given up everything we just won!”

Instantly, Batgirl grabbed the remote. Then she was across the stream and slammed her elbow into the bruise she had made on Sandman’s chest. As the villain winced, he began to double over, but was stopped cold as the top of Batgirl’s gloved knuckles smacked him in the jaw. Black oblivion enveloped him.

Once Sandman was Bat-cuffed, Batgirl and Dreama pulled Betty over land and unrolled her from the electric blanket. Batgirl then revived Kathy with the smelling salts.

“I can’t thank you enough, Batgirl. Do you have a cell phone I could borrow to call Networld. I need to get my legal department fighting any claim Sandman’s solicitor might make on my assets.”

“Of course, Ms. Kane,” Batgirl said, handing the exec her cell phone.

Dreama was staring at Batgirl and the Kanes with tears still streaming along her cheeks. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

“That may depend on you,” Batgirl told her.

“What do you mean? I helped him kidnap and torture the Kanes so we could plunder Networld.”

“Yes. You’ll need to admit all of that to the police, but, I will tell them how you saved my life and helped Batgirl catch Sandman,” Betty explained.

“She’s right,” Katherine Kane said, returning Batgirl’s phone. “If you testify against Sandman, you may be able to get a much lesser sentence. We’ll all be in your corner.”

“You’re all being very kind to me.”

“I owe you my life!” Betty said.

“Well, thank you all. Especially you, Batgirl. I might not have seen what a despicable man Sandman is without you.” When Batgirl did not respond, Dreama looked in all directions quickly. “She‘s gone!”

“Super heroines can be like that, Dreama,” Kathy explained.

“I know we’ll never forget the role she had in saving us from Sandman,” Betty said.

“Yes,” Dreama agreed. “Her actions have put that monster away.”

Later, as the monstrous Sandman was about to be caged at the special arch-criminal wing of Gotham State Prison to await trial, he was pleasantly surprised to recognize an old confederate.

“Catwoman!” he called cheerfully.

“Shut up!” a guard told him. “This is prison. You’ll do as you’re told. That means you’ll speak only when spoken to. Got it?” The guard let a hand rest on his stun gun to emphasize his authority.

The Sandman turned to him slowly and held the guard’s gaze. “I’ll only be here until my mouthpiece does his job. That is what you Americans call criminal defense lawyers, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” the guard said, sounding bored. “As long as you are our ‘guest,’ though, you’ll follow the rules. We’ll remind you of them if you break any, don’t worry. Right now, I need you to keep quiet. So, shut up!”

“Next!” another guard called to indicate it was Sandman’s turn for initial processing. He stepped away from the guard who was acquainting him with the rules and moved through the wheels of justice.

Many of Warden Crichton’s other “guests” enjoyed the sight of the blonde amazon Sandman had spotted running laps in the exercise yard. Even in her prison stripes, she was quite a sight. As the Princess of Plunder devoted herself to physical fitness, other inmates leered, cheered, wolf-whistled, applauded, and assailed her with all manner of what they thought to be interesting propositions.

The Catwoman ran.

Sweat glistened and her breath rasped as her feet pounded beneath her. She was pushing herself, perhaps harder then she ever had before. Her commitment to her exertions was obvious. Yet, her goal had more to do with real freedom than the release she got from exercise. While Catwoman was not oblivious to the catcalls and other evidence of the attention she was receiving from her fellow inmates, her focus on running was total as her long legs moved her forward with the grace of a jungle cat.

Suddenly, she felt dizzy. Her head began to swim. She slackened her pace and approached a patch of green grass, ignoring the turn she had taken each time she had reached the same spot earlier. The dizziness worsened as she slowed, beginning to effect her balance. She stretched her arms outward to keep her body upright and felt herself pitch toward the lawn. She hit ungracefully and lay quite still as darkness totally enveloped her.

“Well?” Warden Crichton asked his staff physician following the examination.

“She’s catatonic. No pun intended.”

“You mean she isn’t responding at all?”

“Precisely. I have a theory, but I need to run some tests that require facilities we just don’t have here, sir.”

“Would Gotham General do?”

“Yes.”

“How long will you need to keep Ms. Kyle under observation?”

“Sir, with all due respect, I am a doctor, not a theater patron. Catwoman’s, er, I mean Ms. Kyle’s treatment will take as long at it takes. How soon can she be transported to the hospital?”

“I’ll get that process started right away,” Warden Crichton promised.

Late the next morning, the female guard at Catwoman’s door received a surprise when a petite African-American woman approached her with a smile and a wave. “Good morning, officer. I understand in order to see my friend, Selina Kyle, I must first see you.”

“That’s right, ma’am. I’m here to keep tabs on her. May I have your name, please?”

“Of course,” she said, pausing. As the newcomer spoke, she enunciated carefully, making her breath hiss each time she pronounced the letter ‘s.’ Then her sultry voice continued. It seemed to the guard to have an almost musical quality. “My name is Kaat, Tara Kaat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“All right, Ms. Kaat. You realize she’s still unconscious, don’t you?

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well, in order to see Ms. Kyle, I’ll need to see what is in your briefcase and pat you down.”

“Feel free, honey.”

With those three words, Tara Kaat made the female officer very uncomfortable. The guard had been expecting an objection, not enthusiasm. All she could do now was go forward with the routine. “Please lean against the wall with your arms outstretched and your legs spread apart.”

“As you wish.”

The guard quickly patted Tara down as she complied. “What do you have in your briefcase?”

“I’m a singer, officer. I have some of my music with me. I thought I might sing a song for Selina. Oh, have you finished already?” Tara said, sounding faintly disappointed.

“Yes, Ma’am. Please open it up for me.”

Tara did as she was asked. The guard glanced inside. As reported, the briefcase appeared to be jammed full of sheet music.

“Okay, you can go in now,” the officer said, hurrying Tara Kaat into the room. She should have done a more thorough job checking the briefcase, but Catwoman’s visitor’s familiar demeanor had made her feel progressively more uncomfortable. Any guilt the guard may have felt about her lax inspection evaporated when she heard soft singing from the room.

The tape of Tara’s unaccompanied performance played as the singer pulled the far side guard on Catwoman’s bed up. She circled the bed and scooted the patient toward the now-raised railing. Then she turned back to the open briefcase and took out a device about the size of an electronic organizer. She set the device beside Catwoman’s head and pulled a cloth cap with trailing wires from its place in the device. She fitted the cap to Catwoman‘s head, making sure the electrodes were properly in contact with the skull.

Satisfied, she took a cylindrical case from the briefcase and removed a hypodermic needle from it. She administered an injection to Selina and put her own cloth cap on her head while the drug revived Catwoman.

Tara waited and Selina moaned. Catwoman’s eyes fluttered open and she regarded the other woman, first with suspicion, then with delight. Selina recognized Tara. It was a face and form she had come to know as well as her own.

“It worked!” Selina said excitedly.

“So far,” Tara said. “Be carreful. There’s a guard on the door. You still want to go through with this?”

“Yes.”

“This is the part I like,” Tara said, climbing into the narrow bed with Selina.

“Is everything set?” Selina asked.

Tara double checked. “It’s purrfect, Catwoman,” Tara said. “Are you ready?”

“Do it!”

The two women lay silently as they both became aware of the familiar sensation of mind transfer. When it was over, the African-American looked at her companion and smiled. “Tara, you did it purrfectly.”

“What drug did we use again?” the now-blonde Tara asked.

“Somer,” the newly embodied Catwoman said, sliding from the bed and detaching her cap to consult the chart at the foot of the bed. “The fools are almost completely baffled. They’ve guessed you were knocked out by a binary compound triggered by the rush of adrenaline your afternoon run induced, but they have no idea what the other half of the compound was. I’m sure they’ll find your recovery quite miraculous. So, what are your plans once I strike and they realize you’re not me anymore. At the very least, they’ll hold you for questioning.”

Tara the amazon grinned mischievously. “Oh, I thought I’d see if I could thank some of these rich male doctors or maybe one of the scrumptious male nurses for working their miracles on me by offering to let them take me away somewhere. If I keep my recovery from being too sudden, once the authorities learn they no longer have Catwoman, I doubt they’ll even keep a guard on little ol’ me. What about you?”

“First, I’ll put my miniaturized version of Egghead’s Psychic Eggschange Machine safely away. Egghead was very cooperative, answering my last few questions about it before Legs Parker inadvertently arranged my escape from jail last year.”

“What about after you’ve dealt with the machine?”

“Then I’ll get on with my own plans. We’ve timed my escape purrfectly. Thank you very much. I’ll explain everything when I’ve finished and am rolling in money.”

“How soon will I hear from you?”

“Very soon, Tara. Purrhaps sooner then you expect.” The taller woman stretched and realized her counterpart had packed away her machine. “Stay in bed, Tara,” Selina said. “The drug I used to revive is only effective for a short time. You’ll be unconscious again in just a few minutes.”

The patient yawned. “Have fun, Selina. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tara laughed.

“Goodbye, Tara. Thank you again,” Selina said.

Catwoman packed the tape in the briefcase once the song had finished. She put the side of the bed back down and made sure her clothes looked the way they had when she had entered.

“Catwoman,” Tara said quietly as Selina reached the door.

Catwoman turned back to her counterpart. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Selina turned and went through the door, closing it quietly behind her.

“Do you think she even knew you were there?” the still-uncomfortable guard asked.

“Oh, I think she’ll figure it out,” the short, African-American Catwoman said enigmatically. The voluptuous villainess was soon back on the streets of Gotham City, ready to pounce.

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