The Terrific Trio Picks Up the Slack

Pain throbbed along every inch of Batgirl’s body as she lay inside Playgirl’s Death Bubble. She held her breath and pressed vainly against the bubble’s walls. She had hoped to puncture the bubble, widen the hole, and climb through to freedom. Unfortunately, the pressure she put on the skin of the bubble caused it to bulge outward instead of breaking.

She surmised pressing with her fingertips instead of her palms might yield the aperture she needed. She closed her eyes and tried to put the pain to one side, taking a cautiously shallow breath and trying to extend her arms with fingertips outward. Again the bubble bulged outward. She also tried pointing her right index finger to puncture the bubble, with the same result.

She allowed herself to relax as the pain she had felt since almost the beginning of the fight subsided considerably. Slowly, she tucked her knees to her chest and extended a long leg upward pointing her toe. Again the bubble only extended and kept her contained.

Her next ploy would take time to set up. She had to minimize the use of oxygen in case it failed. She pulled her leg back to her chest with languid grace and held her position, taking a shallow breath. Then, with infinite slowness, she rolled her feet to the floor and straightened to a standing position. All the while she remained enveloped in the deadly bubble. Hopefully, she extended her arms above her head. But, her effort was in vain again. "This isn’t working," she declared quietly, exhaling another shallow breath.

She had one other hope. Again she would need to move slowly to conserve precious oxygen. Once she was prepared, she began to lower her waist and spread her legs in front of and behind her. With meticulous slowness, she performed the splits as the bubble expanded to accommodate the amount of area her body was taking up. Finally, desperately, she tried extending her arms from her shoulders, but the bubble still would not break.

Physically attacking the skin of the bubble had failed. Ordinarily, she would have tried using chemicals or altering the temperature of the bubble to escape, but the means to affect these attacks were in her utility belt, which lay unhelpfully outside the bubble. Also unavailable was her means of summoning police aid.

She had hope, however. The police knew she had come to the Chessman Luxury Hotel at the Chessmen Building and so did Batman and Robin. They evidently had their own perils to overcome. They had arrived ahead of her, and Playgirl had obviously been just as ready for them.

Batman often said the criminal’s greatest weakness was overconfidence. Batgirl had to have faith the Caped Crusader would be proven right again and escape Playgirl’s clutches. He had extricated himself from countless deadly situations in the past, after all. The contest now was between Batgirl’s confidence in Batman and Playgirl’s confidence in her deadly machinations.

So, for Batgirl, hope of rescue lay with the police or the Dynamic Duo. What she had to do was be alive when help arrived. Her best strategy remained to minimize oxygen use. She knew how much energy the mere act of standing required. Most people would have been surprised to learn how difficult it would become for her to maintain her balance, as she was slowly deprived of oxygen. Thus, she would need to lie down on her back.

As she slowly settled onto her back, she recalled a conversation she had had with Batman years ago in Lord Marmaduke Phogg’s Londinium dungeon. They had discussed the ancient Fakir Indian rope trick, which Batman had employed to enable their escape; other techniques of Eastern meditation; and the power of Yoga to magnify such effects. Batman had also described certain techniques he had used to stay alive in situations where his life had been in danger or his sanity had been under assault. He had mentally recited the multiplication tables backwards to maintain his sanity when King Tut had subjected him to the ancient Theban pebble torture. The same technique had worked again when the fat Pharaoh had placed Batgirl in the fiendishly capable hands of his Chief Torturer to face the exact same situation. Of more use now, was the technique Batman had used to put himself in a trance while sealed in a mummy case and submerged in a vat of water, a peril also devised by the malevolent Egyptian monarch.

Batgirl recalled Batman’s explanation of the entrancing technique and began to employ it. She needed to be breathing when a rescuer found her.

With deliberate slowness, Batgirl stretched herself out and crossed her arms over her chest. She began to mutter a rhythmic chant softly, slowly enabling her body to achieve peaceful stillness. For survival, this was her last, best hope.

"Interesting," Camilla said as she and Sarah watched from behind a similar mirror to the one from behind which Playgirl frequently observed the casino . "Do you think she’s given up?"

"I doubt it. When Playgirl said she was going to kill Batgirl with that giant cake, I did some research. It seems villains here try to kill her all the time. She has been baked, crushed, squeezed, drowned, buried alive, torn apart, impaled, burned, launched, and frozen at various times and survived it all."

"So she probably really hasn’t given up."

"It may not matter, of course. She’ll need someone to rescue her."

"It won’t be either of us," Camilla said laughing.

"I wouldn’t count on the Dissolved Duo on the roof, either," Sarah chimed in with a chuckle.

"So she’s doomed."

"Probably. Don’t we have more interesting things to do than watch her lie there asphyxiating?"

"Come to think of it, we do."

"Do you know how to get to Max in the King’s Suite without being seen?"

"Of course. Shall we?"

"Let’s."

High above, Batman and Robin swung closer to their sinister swim.

"Batman," Robin said, coughing, "I can smell the fumes. I can feel them burning my eyes, nose, and throat."

"Yes, Robin. We may be close enough to the ground for me to try something."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We may have one slim chance." Batman leaned back in his swing and began to widen the arc of his trajectory to its absolute maximum. Once he had achieved his goal, he dipped his legs and let his feet hit the roof. He slowed and felt himself skip along the surface until he had to raise his feet to keep from dragging them through the acid.

Robin understood and began to lengthen the arc of his own trajectory.

Batman’s boots hit the roof again and he bent his knees to absorb the shock of impact. After employing this technique on a few more swings, he skidded to a stop at the edge of the pool. Gingerly, he straightened his legs and moved his swing backwards a few inches.

"Holy Brink of Destruction, Batman! You did it!" Robin said. He dipped his legs and felt his feet skip along the surface of the roof. Three swings later he came to a stop beside Batman. "What now?"

"Now, we can capitalize on Playgirl’s overconfidence. She didn’t bind our ankles, which means——"

"We can walk backwards."

"Precisely." Together, Batman and Robin walked their swings backwards until the chains became taut.

Robin, who was shorter and had therefore let out more chain, exhaled. "Gosh, that was close. Now all we have to do is untie ourselves from the swings." A moment later he realized that task would be easier said than done.

Batman was looking at the mechanism the chains were being dangled from. "It looks like most of the chain that was wrapped around the pulley up there has been played out," he observed. "I wonder if——" He stopped speaking and gathered his strength. A moment later he leaned back and wrenched backward on his chains sharply. Overhead, the machinery groaned.

"It’s working, Batman!"

"Yes. If I can get some momentum built up I should be able to get free." He wrenched backward again and felt several links pull from the overhead apparatus. Batman backed up and pulled again, extracting more chain links. Moments later he was backing up and pulling chain free with each powerful step.

He had backed up fifteen feet when the chains clattered to the rooftop and pulled Batman’s arms downward. The Caped Crusader pulled a blade from one wrist and slashed his bonds with rapid strokes. "I’ll have you free in just a moment, old chum."

"We have to hurry, Batman. There is no telling what those devils are doing to Batgirl."

"Right you are, Robin. Let’s go!" Seconds later, they had retrieved their utility belts and raced from the roof.

It took only a few moments for the Dynamic Duo to learn the geography of the top floor. "Where do you suppose she is?" Robin asked.

"They captured us in the basement. Let’s start there."

"Should we be safe and take the stairs?"

"No. I think we’ll surprise our enemies if we use the elevator."

"Right, Batman. They think we’re dead."

Moments later they descended in an elevator. As they reached the basement, Batman suddenly pushed Robin aside and flattened himself against one wall with a finger to his lips. The doors opened. A man with a shattered nose stepped aboard. The doors closed.

The man jumped when he realized Batman and Robin were also aboard the elevator. "Where is Batgirl?" Robin demanded.

"I didn’t do nothing," the man protested, his voice quavering.

"If you don’t tell us voluntarily, Batman and I will make you talk. Right, Batman?"

"Just a moment, Robin," Batman said.

"I’m telling you I don’t know nothing."

"Robin," Batman said, "How many floors does this hotel have?"

"I don’t know," Robin said. "Wait." He glanced at the panel beside him. "It looks like twenty-four."

"I noticed that myself. Now, before we Batclimbed into Playgirl’s trap, I counted twenty-five. If you look carefully you’ll notice there is no thirteenth floor. This addresses the fears of superstitious people and is common practice in hotels. So, I think there are two floors in this hotel not open to the public."

"How do we find them, Batman?"

"Let’s take our friend here to the roof."

"You can’t throw me off!" the thug gibbered. Batman and Robin ignored him.

Batman hit the button for the floor above them. As the elevator ascended, he counted out loud, "One. Two. Three. Four. Five." They reached the floor. He repeated this routine until he counted to fifteen between floors. He descended to the previous floor to verify his count. "Let’s talk in the stairwell," Batman suggested as the doors opened.

Robin hustled the prisoner through the deserted hall and into the stairwell. "Now, you’re going to talk!"

"I tell you I don’t know nothing!" the man insisted.

"Robin, do you recognize this man?"

"I think you shattered his nose in the fight."

"That’s what I thought. Perhaps a little first aid would be in order."

"No! Don’t touch me!" the man pleaded as Batman reached for his face.

"For what are the floors above us used?" Batman asked.

"Tell him!" Robin ordered.

"Okay! Mr. Chessman uses them for his own purposes. Most employees are not even allowed to set foot on either of the floors. Don’t hurt me!"

"You are allowed on those floors though, aren’t you?"

"And what about Playgirl?’ Robin added.

"Yes, yes, both of us," the man responded, his voice quavering again.

"Is Batgirl on one of those floors?"

"If she is," the man began, “and I’m not saying she is, she would be on the floor just above us."

Batman approached the man, who backed into the corner, and slid his wrists into Batcuffs, which the Caped Crusader threaded around the hand railing. "The police will be speaking to you about assault," Batman told him. "Let’s go, chum."

Batman and Robin took the stairs two at a time and split up to search the private floor. They passed over the locked doors and glanced into the open ones. Finding nothing, they returned to the first locked door. They stood on either side and Batman slid a tiny explosive he took from his belt into the lock. The Masked Manhunter extended the fuse and lit it.

"Five. Four. Three. Two One," he said as he and Robin covered their ears. The lock popped and Batman yanked the door open.

"Here she is!" Robin said. "What is that she’s sealed in?"

Batman followed him into the room, stopping to examine the bubble skin shrunk to within millimeters of Batgirl’s body. Robin reached for the surface of the bubble and felt Batman snatch his hand back. "Let’s see what we can find out about it first."

He pulled a blade from his utility belt and placed the tip against the skin of the bubble. He pressed downward gently and felt the bubble stretch inward where the blade pressed into it. The bubble bent without breaking as Batman slid the blade in different directions. "This type of approach likely didn’t work from the inside either," he surmised, slipping his blade away.

"It’s impervious to external attack."

"Physical attack powered by human strength perhaps——"

"Could there be a chemical agent that would neutralize it?"

"Probably. Although I don’t think Batgirl has time for us to research the issue."

"What then?"

"I can see one slim chance for her, Robin." As he spoke he pulled a Batlaser from his utility belt. "Pray we aren’t too late and that this works." He adjusted the setting to its lowest level, knelt over Batgirl, activated the implement, and touched the light beam to the bubble just below her feet.

Robin stared, fascinated, as the laser refracted through the skin of the bubble, causing light to shimmer in patterns resembling spider webs over Batgirl’s beautiful, but motionless, body. Finally, after several minutes, the bubble collapsed with a hiss. Batman clicked off his tool and put it away.

"Holy Light Show! That was spectacular!"

Batman leaned over his curvaceous colleague and listened to her chest, watching it closely. He remained bent over her for several minutes. Robin held his breath. After what seemed an eternity to Robin, Batman raised his head from Batgirl’s chest.

"Batman," Robin began to ask slowly, hesitating, "Is she--"

"She is alive, but in a self-induced trance. She may be more vulnerable now than at any time since we have known her. It is imperative we get her out of here."

Color returned to Robin’s face. "Back to the stairwell?"

"We’ll use the other one. It is just as well to keep our enemies guessing about our state of health and what we know," Batman decided, buckling Batgirl’s utility belt around her waist.

"I’ll make sure we get out without being seen," Robin offered.

"Right. To the Batmobile."

Later, the Batmobile pulled to a stop in the Batcave with Batgirl seated between the Dynamic Duo, oblivious to her surroundings.

Alfred greeted them with a concerned look as he noticed the decorative addition to the team. "A development, sir?"

"We needed a safe place to break the trance Batgirl placed herself in to survive Playgirl’s trap. I’ll have to ask you to remain in the background since she knows who you are."

"Of course, sir. Mrs. Cooper is having a card party this afternoon and will need me to serve sandwiches. Is there anything else you require before I attend to those chores?"

"I think we can manage, Alfred. Thank you."

"I’ll bring some food down for the three of you when time allows, sir. Good nutrition, you know."

As Batman spoke to Alfred, Robin carried Batgirl to a recovery room set up in a side chamber behind the atomic pile. He laid her on a comfortable bunk and sat in a chair beside it.

Batman joined them in a moment.

"Is Batgirl safe now, Batman?"

"Safer than she was at the Chessmen Building, however, I need to guide her consciousness back to a state of total awareness."

"How can I help?"

"This is something I must do alone. If you are too close, we risk losing you in a similar trance forever."

"Holy Wanderlust."

"Alfred will be bringing us some sandwiches. I’ll need you to make sure he doesn’t look in for the same reason."

"Right, Batman." Robin left as Batman took a silver chain from a cabinet.

He swung the chain before Batgirl’s eyes and Batman watched them begin to follow it moving back and forth in a tiny arc. Batman began to speak softly, "Batgirl, focus on the shiny chain. It represents your path back to safety. Focus on the silver chain and follow the path." As the chain swung, Batman watched her eyes focus more clearly. He repeated his directions and smiled as Batgirl’s breathing became more regular. "Good, Batgirl. You will know when you are back. When you are, say my name." Batman swung his chain and repeated his directions again patiently.

Several minutes passed before Batgirl inhaled deeply. "Batman," she said.

"Relax, Batgirl. You’re back. Everything is okay now," he told her and put his chain away.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Playgirl’s goons beat the stuffings out of me. Then she left me to suffocate in something she called a Death Bubble and said you and Robin wouldn’t be able to save me. I couldn’t break it, so I put myself in a trance to conserve oxygen."

"My Batlaser evaporated Playgirl’s bubble. Fortunately, I was able to guide you out of the trance. How do you feel?"

"Much better. Thank you. The trance both conserves oxygen and aides healing. By the way, where are we?"

"Safe at the Batcave."

"The Batcave!" She sat up and stared in all directions. While she had recovered from Doctor Cassandra Spellcraft’s fiendishly flattening ray gun and The Siren’s attempt to reduce her brain to oatmeal with sound waves, the thought of being in Batman’s amazing headquarters again thrilled her.

"We should have some sandwiches in the main area." Batman helped Batgirl to her feet and led her to the table near the Batcomputer, where Robin quickly put away his textbook.

"Maybe we should eat and exchange information," Robin said.

Batgirl was looking around in awe, recalling how she had shown Batwoman around during her most recent visit. "It’s still incredible, Batman, an ideal base of operations. I like the way the Batmobile rotates automatically toward the entrance after it pulls in. I’m sorry to have to admit I’m a little envious."

For several seconds after she emerged from the side chamber, all Batgirl could do was stare. She examined the atomic pile, which powered the Batmobile. Next, she turned her attention to the Batcomputer, which she considered with professional interest, wondering how exactly the Batdiamond powered it. How often did Batman and Robin upgrade?

An elevator stood closed beside the Batpoles opposite the main entrance. Where did it go? She imagined the Dynamic Duo sliding down their Batpoles from above to dash across the cave and leap into the Batmobile in response to a call for help from her father.

Batgirl’s glance lingered over an impressive assortment of scientific equipment arrayed on a separate table beside the Batphone. Her walk-in closet paled in comparison. It suited her needs, though.

Robin waited at yet another table. "I’m sorry," Batgirl said to him. "What did you say?"

"Have a sandwich," he offered, helping himself.

Batman pulled out a chair for her and sat down. "Why don’t we bring each other up to speed. I think there is more going on at the Chessman Luxury Hotel in the Chessmen Building than Playgirl hiding out there."

"The warning I received about Max Chessman suggests you’re right," Batgirl acknowledged. The Terrific Trio exchanged information.

"It may be a good idea to speak to Sir Sterling Habits," Batman said.

"We met him once," Robin said, "when Catwoman stole Chad and Jeremy’s voices."

"Good thinking. Sir Sterling may have received more information."

Meanwhile, in the King’s Suite at Chessman Luxury Hotel in Gotham City’s Chessmen Building, Max Chessman put on his coat and glanced at his now sleeping maids and mixed himself a drink at the sideboard. "You were splendid as ever, ladies," he said toasting the two tired temptresses. He sat down and picked up the phone. A moment later he had his security office on the line. "Where is Playgirl?" he asked.

"She is involved in the teleconference you set up for her, sir."

"Thank you." He hung up, sipped his drink, and began looking once again at the satellite photos Playgirl had downloaded for him. He had printed them while she had attended to Batgirl. "Excellent work, my dear. You’ve put me well ahead of schedule here in Gotham City." He finished his drink and laughed. "Since time is money, you’re going to make me a VERY rich man, a very rich man indeed. Too bad you won’t be able to share the wealth, but, before my maids attend to that, we have to market our work. Then everyone will go away, one way or another."

The Security Pawn Chessman had spoken to got up. "I think I’ll do my rounds a little early," he told his junior partner and moved off after the man nodded. He made his way to the command center where he found Playgirl hard at work.

"Come in," she said in response to his knock.

"I told the boss what you asked me to, Playgirl."

"Thank you," she said, switching off a monitor. She rotated her chair to look at him and allow him to look at her. She had changed into a tie-dye bikini top and matching short skirt. When she judged the initial impression she knew her appearance would make had been maximized, she stood, allowing a smile to spread from her lips until it ultimately reached her eyes. Playgirl judged it as one of her finest performances ever. The sharp intake of the guard’s breath was perhaps more gratifying than the greatest standing ovation in the world could have been. "Come here," Playgirl commanded.

The guard obeyed helplessly and was rewarded as Playgirl took him in her arms. She kissed him hard and deeply on the mouth. The entranced guard began to respond and run his hands over the gorgeous creature who had ensnared him. He felt her reciprocate his efforts for the duration of their lengthy kiss. They were both breathless when it ended. "Is there anything else you require?" he asked hopefully.

"Not just now. Thank you. You have done very well. I look forward to thanking you properly later, when I have more time."

"Thank you!"

"Go," she commanded. He turned his head and grinned at her over his shoulder as he felt her smack his retreating behind.

Her face hardened once he had gone. "Fool!" she said. The Conniving Cutie switched on her monitor again and brought up the image of Camilla and Sarah sleeping in the King’s suite. "Chessman is a fool as well. I’ll teach him to play around on Playgirl!" The arctic quality of her voice transformed the manipulative temptress she had just finished portraying into the coldly brilliant planner her Valley girl, blonde pose concealed.

Chessman’s liaison demonstrated he was quite willing and able to use the same manipulative techniques Playgirl herself was employing. In fact, she was well aware she and her employer were using such machinations on each other. The game was drawing rapidly to a close now.

Her partnership with Chessman had enabled her to expand her technical knowledge, as she had hoped, and to do so more swiftly than she could have dared hope. Having familiarized herself with Chessman’s plans, she realized she may have been too efficient about eliminating the Terrific Trio and hacking the satellites. She no longer had the luxury of time to develop and exert the influence she ultimately wanted over Chessman’s operations. Thus, her plans for a subtle takeover would have to be abandoned. Her only remaining route to a quick profit from the relationship now was straightforward plunder.

To this end, she had installed a number of computer programs into Chessman’s mainframe designed to move money from Chessman’s accounts to hers. Her fingers caressed the keyboard as she enabled some of their more advanced capabilities. She leaned back laughing wickedly. "Tiny and now self-replicating, these programs will move around Chessman’s network like the queen in a game of Three Card Monte." She backed out of the system, her wicked grin remaining in place as she brought up her Swiss bank balances. "Exquisite. They’re functioning beautifully so far and I’ve barely started."

She stood preparing for the next round in her game with Chessman. She glanced at herself in a mirror to be certain her primary arsenal was being used to maximum advantage. Satisfied, she climbed the stairs to watch the action in the casino with the manager. After awhile, when the manager excused himself, she ordered, "Page Mr. Chessman when you get the chance."

When Max arrived, he found her lying decoratively before one of the consoles.

"A vision for my eyes," he said.

"Much more than that, darling. I wanted to thank you for setting up that excellent conference. You’ve been very helpful."

"Thank you. Now, I have another little chore for you."

She slid to the floor and moved to link her arm with his and lean in close. "Tell me," she said huskily.

They moved to Chessman’s executive offices. "Before I get into detail on your next task, I must compliment you on dealing with Gotham City’s heroes."

"Eliminating the Terrific Trio was a pleasure."

"You also hacked the satellites masterfully."

"The work was interesting. I think the satellites offer several avenues for revenue for both of us." There would be no harm in planting seeds. He might inquire about them and give her more time to take advantage of his telephone technology. On the other hand, if Chessman couldn’t see multiple opportunities, she would just have to capitalize on them herself. She had vision, after all.

"All your work has been top of the line. I think the bonus I’ll soon deposit in your account will express my appreciation."

"I’m sure it will."

"Right. Now, I need to begin to make money from the satellites. This means dealing with clients I have avoided in the past, namely the British government. To learn who would be interested in my services, I need to have a meeting with Sir Sterling Habits of Gotham City’s British Consulate. Since you are handling my local affairs, I’d like you to make the arrangements."

"I take it making an appointment is out of the question?"

"Quite."

"Leave it to me."

Batgirl awoke outside the Gotham City British Consul. "I’m sorry to have to use the Batsleep on you, Batgirl, but Robin and I must protect our secret identities or our value as crime fighters will be severely diminished."

"I understand completely, Batman. Is Sir Sterling in?"

"I believe so. Let’s find out."

Inside, the Terrific Trio was ushered into Sir Sterling Habits’ office after a brief delay.

"Hello, Batman. Hello, Robin. Welcome back to my humble office. I say. You really must introduce your companion," Sir Sterling said, extending a hand to the Dynamic Duo.

"Sir Sterling, I am pleased to present Batgirl, our partner in crime fighting."

"Batgirl," Sir Sterling said raising her extended, gloved hand to his lips. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Come in, all of you. Please sit down and tell me how I can help you."

As they took their seats, Robin asked, “Sir Sterling, I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. You look a lot like Superintendent Watson of venerable Ireland Yard!”

“Very observant, young man! Yes, he’s my cousin.”

"Sir Sterling," Batgirl began, getting down to business, "I received a letter through your office accusing Mr. Max Chessman of being a resourceful international criminal guilty of kidnaping and worse."

"Oh, that blighter," Sir Sterling said too quickly. "I’m sorry, Batgirl. I have no official comment to make about Max Chessman, his business, or the woman working with him."

"Do you mean Playgirl?" Robin asked.

"Sir Sterling, may I inquire how you knew Mr. Chessman was working with a woman?" Batman asked quietly.

Sir Sterling cleared his throat. "I’m sorry, Batman, Robin, Batgirl. I really have no official comment to make."

"Perhaps someone from the Ministry could speak to us," Batgirl suggested.

"There are many ministries, Batgirl. I can set up an appointment with any of them for you if you would like."

"They sent me a note, Mr. Habits. Your office arranged for it to be delivered to the police. If it is true nobody at the British Consul has any comment of any kind, would you be able to speculate on why the note was not sent anonymously?" Batgirl asked.

"Obviously, the Ministry wanted to give their concerns some weight. Anonymous tips often come from crackpots or those colorful criminals you have here."

"Is there any other information you can share about Mr. Chessman. I assure you Batman, Robin, and I will keep your comments in the strictest confidence." As she spoke, Batgirl lowered her voice conspiratorially.

"Oh, blast! I detest speaking off the record!" Sir Sterling said. "Right. I must ask all of you to give your solemn word you will not reveal where you learned what I am about to tell you."

"Of course, Sir Sterling," Batman said. "You can rely on our absolute discretion."

"We won’t tell a soul," Robin added.

"I give you my word," Batgirl echoed.

Sir Sterling cleared his throat. "Splendid. Oh, I suppose a certain amount of ceremony is required. I must ask you, Batman and Robin, to swear to confidentiality on your word as gentlemen.”

"Very well, Sir Sterling," Batman said. "I swear this to you as a gentleman."

"I also swear as a gentleman," Robin said.

"Quite," Sir Sterling Habits said nodding. "Now then, I can hardly ask you, Batgirl, to swear as a gentleman, can I? Rather a sticky wicket, what?"

"I agree, Sir Sterling. Suppose I were to give you my word as a lady?"

"I say! That would be quite acceptable."

"Then I do."

"Jolly good. Thank you all. Now then, according to our intelligence community, a number of scientists in certain high tech communication fields have disappeared, apparently shortly after staying at Chessman Luxury Hotels."

"Would any of those fields have been concerned with computerized graphics communications?"

"I’m not certain, Batgirl. The fields were all very high tech, as I said."

"Playgirl is an expert at computer graphics," Batgirl declared.

"Holy Perfect Fit!"

"Now, how would Max Chessman and Playgirl capitalize on modern communications technology to further their criminal aims?" Batman asked of no one in particular.

Sir Sterling’s phone rang and he excused himself to take the call.

The diplomat stood and engaged in a very brief conversation.

When he returned, he explained, "I’m terribly sorry. Just confirming a satellite teleconference with the Prime Minister."

"That’s it, Batman!"

"What, Batgirl?"

"Satellites! Chessman is using Playgirl to manipulate satellite technology!"

"Holy Star Wars! What could he do with that kind of power?"

"What couldn’t he do? Satellites are key to the global economy. They enable necessary modern communications," Batgirl said. "These technologies encompass both voice and graphics communications."

"Quite," Sir Sterling Habits agreed. "Their importance for national and international defense cannot be calculated. They have applications for espionage; communications, as you point out; as well as weaponry."

"The implications are staggering," Batman said.

"Quite," Sir Sterling Habits repeated.

"Now that we know what they are doing, let’s go put a stop to it," Robin said.

"In order to really put a stop to it, we’ll need to link Chessman with illegal activity. None of us have even seen him," Batgirl observed.

"If Playgirl is really working with him, she might be persuaded to turn on him," Batman said.

"She’s probably back at the hotel. She’s tried to kill us. Let’s arrest her and give Sir Sterling’s people a chance to talk to her."

"Capital idea!" Sir Sterling Habits said.

"We’d better hurry," Batgirl suggested. "There’s no telling how long it will be until our enemies realize we’ve survived their attempts on our lives."

"Thank you for all your help, Sir Sterling," Batman said. "To the Batmobile."

Sir Sterling Habits stared after them as they raced from his office. "Extraordinary! Quite extraordinary."

As the Terrific Trio raced to arrest Playgirl, Sir Sterling Habits dealt quickly with his last appointment and prepared for dinner. He summoned his car and said goodnight to his staff. He was unaware of impending danger until he settled comfortably into his limousine.

"Good evening, Sir Sterling," Playgirl said.

Sir Sterling Habits stared at the blue-eyed blonde reclining decoratively across from him with a lavender halter-top and pair of black slacks. Her hair cascaded glamorously over her left shoulder, a golden wave of soft, flowing loveliness. "What is the meaning of this, young lady?" he demanded.

"Well, I kind of gave your chauffeur the night off. I’m, like, totally taking you for a ride, old chap."

"I think not." He reached for the door handle and discovered it was locked, with no way to open it. Playgirl lay motionless while he tried the other door, the skylight and the closed partition between his part of the car and the driver.

"I, like, know you realize the windows are totally bulletproof, shatterproof, and whatever. You aren’t going anywhere without my permission. On the other hand, I can make our journey very pleasant for you, if you’d like."

"Now see here. You are not only committing a felony; you are murdering the English language. Furthermore, I have no interest whatsoever in doing anything you thought you could persuade me to do while we go wherever it is you think you are taking me."

"Are you sure?" Playgirl asked seductively, shifting to give the diplomat a better view.

"I am quite positive!" Sir Sterling Habits went on to explain the basis for his certainty, which was rooted in the ingrained character of all decent Britons, which could not possibly be shaken by a woman such as herself, however beautiful she may arguably be. He described the type of woman he thought she was in a certain amount of detail. The entire performance could generously be described as undiplomatic.

Playgirl said something very unladylike in response and ordered the driver back to the hotel. "I so totally don’t need to listen to you the rest of the way. You know?" As she spoke, Playgirl took a handkerchief with one hand and opened a valve with the other. She covered her nose and mouth as gas hissed beneath Sir Sterling Habits. "Good night!"

The diplomat was asleep in moments. Playgirl shut off the gas and cracked the skylight and windows to clear the air.

The Terrific Trio arrived at the Chessman Luxury Hotel at Gotham City’s Chessman Building well ahead of Playgirl and Sir Sterling Habits. They Batclimbed to the upper private floor and slipped inside.

"I suggest we look around and meet back here in a few minutes," Batgirl said.

"Good thinking," Batman agreed.

When they regrouped, Robin began. "I found a laboratory. It’s well stocked for biochemical experiments. I didn’t see anything that suggested it was being used for anything just now."

Batman reported, "I found a sophisticated interrogation facility. They have the means to torture a victim or extract information with chemicals. Fortunately, it is currently unoccupied."

"I found their computer command center," Batgirl reported. "Let’s see what we can learn there."

She led them to the command center and they began to search it thoroughly. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, inhaling sharply.

"What is it?" Robin asked.

"I’m looking at Max Chessman’s day planner. He’s having a meeting with Sir Sterling Habits tonight."

"I don’t see Sir Sterling planning that ahead of time," Batman observed.

"Holy Reversal of Fortunes! You mean they’re bringing him here?"

"That’s very likely, chum."

"It gets worse," Robin said. "Look." He pointed to one security monitor on which they saw themselves looking at the security monitor.

"That means they know what we know," Batgirl said.

"Yes," Batman agreed. "We know they know, however."

"Right," Robin agreed. "Do they know we know they know?"

"That is impossible to know," Batman said.

"If we assume they know we know they know, would they assume we know they know we know they know?" Robin wondered aloud.

While the Dynamic Duo went through these complicated theoretical gymnastics, Batgirl was toggling through security cameras’ views of the hotel. "A limousine with diplomatic plates just pulled into one of the more exclusive parking garages," she announced.

"If we’re going to rescue Sir Sterling Habits, we’d better get moving," Batman decided. "Batgirl, can you get us to a good place to intercept them?"

"I think so. Follow me."

Camilla, Sarah, and a contingent of well-dressed Security Pawns met Playgirl as the car pulled up at the hotel doors. The driver slung the still-sleeping diplomat over one shoulder and followed the women inside. Security Pawns preceded them through the halls, to be certain their passing went unobserved.

Suddenly, the Terrific Trio stepped into their path as they entered a spacious, secluded alcove. "Hold it right there, Playgirl," Batgirl ordered. "We are placing you under arrest for kidnaping and attempted murder."

"I, like, so totally don’t think so, Batgirl!” The blonde beauty did a double-take. “Hey! You and the Dynamic Duo are supposed to be dead!"

"Unhand Sir Sterling Habits. Otherwise, we will be forced to show you just how alive we are," Batman said quietly.

"That’s right," Robin added. "You can’t kill us that easily."

"Well said, Robin," Batman complimented him. "Sir Sterling Habits would be proud of your good grammar."

Playgirl turned to Camilla, Sarah, and the burdened driver. "Take our guest to the room we’ve prepared for him and let Mr. Chessman know he’s arrived." Camilla and Sarah nodded.

"Halt!" Batgirl shouted.

The villains ignored her as Playgirl turned to the Security Pawns. "The rest of you, get them!" As the fight began, Playgirl backed toward one of the passages leading from the alcove.

The Security Pawns had faced members of the Terrific Trio twice already with different results. Against Batman and Robin they had fought as individuals and fallen to the Dynamic Duo. Against Batgirl, however, they had paired off to defeat her. This time they numbered a dozen. They could work together and had more manpower to focus on each of their enemies.

Three Security Pawns advanced and felt themselves gripped and flung sprawling across the alcove. The fourth man trailing behind felt two fists hit him low in the mid-section. Batman and Robin then used him to bowl over a pair behind them, who had picked themselves up and charged.

Batgirl had stepped forward and high kicked the leading Security Pawn in the chin. Another Security Pawn came for her and saw her step aside, spinning seconds before she slapped the side of her foot against his head. The two men advancing on her from behind stopped as Batgirl’s balled fists shot backward and upward connecting with their faces. Before they could react, her elbows shot into their ribs. As they doubled over, she turned and raised a knee to mash one man’s face again. As he went down, Batgirl dispatched the second man by pivoting and snapping her foot into his throat from her upraised knee.

As the Dynamic Duo moved to engage the four remaining Security Pawns and Batgirl advanced on their first attackers, Playgirl retreated hurriedly down the passage.

Two of the remaining Security Pawns charged Robin, taking hold of an arm and leg each to drive him into a wall, where they began to rain body blows on him.

Batman stepped up to exchange blows with one of his Security Pawns while the other circled in from behind. The creeping Security Pawn reached his quarry just as Batman launched his opponent with an uppercut. The Security Pawn stepped in to rabbit punch the Caped Crusader’s exposed ribs and collapsed seconds after gloved knuckles smacked his chin.

"Help!" Robin gasped as he began to sag against the wall under the Security Pawns’ onslaught.

Batman took one Security Pawn by the shoulder and spun him around to enable better punching lanes for the stunning blows he delivered to his off-balance opponent.

"Thanks," Robin said, blocking a blow and delivering a stunning counterpunch. The Teen Thunderbolt pressed his advantage, backing his opponent across the alcove. Once Robin had maneuvered the Security Pawn into a corner, his opponent’s defenses completely evaporated. The man was crumpling as Robin turned back to the center of the room. "Look out!" he called. "Here come the first four!"

Robin moved to a position behind Batgirl and supported her as she leaped into the air and thrust her legs outward, doubling over two of their oncoming attackers. The first man to recover and renew his attack was met by one of Batgirl’s showgirl kicks. Robin waited for the other one and felled him with an efficient combination delivered with stunning force.

Each of the remaining Security Pawns charged Batman and stopped short as he hit them both in the jaw simultaneously. The Caped Crusader followed up by catching each bruised chin and cracking the thugs’ heads together audibly.

The Terrific Trio looked at the dozen Security Pawns littering the floor hopefully, but realized the fight was over. They shook hands and congratulated one another until the sound of three measured claps stopped them.

"Well done. I am impressed," Max Chessman said, lowering his arms.

"Mr. Chessman?" Batgirl asked.

"One and the same, my dear."

"We need to talk about a number of recent events which took place here at your hotel," Batman stated.

Max Chessman let a puzzled look cross his face and brightened. "Oh, you must mean Playgirl’s attempts on all of your lives and the as yet unreported kidnaping of Sir Sterling Habits."

"Then you know about Playgirl!" Robin accused.

"Of course, Boy Wonder. I asked her to do all those things and more."

"In that case, Mr. Chessman," Batman said, "it is our duty to place you under arrest--"

Chessman interrupted by laughing. He controlled himself a moment later with some effort "You really must be kidding, Batman."

"You’ll find I take the law very seriously," Batman said.

"Then you’ll be fascinated by the murder taking place on that monitor right over there," Chessman said pointing.

The Terrific Trio stared in horror as they saw Camilla and Sarah tying Sir Sterling Habits to a sliding board, poised to send the diplomat off the hotel’s roof.

"Holy Re-enactment!" Robin said. He recalled how The Riddler had ordered him flung from that very building a number of years previously. The Boy Wonder’s good dental hygiene and a Batarang had kept him from the fate unfolding for the diplomat above them.

"You’ve encountered my murderous maids, Camilla and Sarah. I assure you both are very talented."

"I’m sure they are," Batgirl said, witheringly.

"Once the binding is finished, they will cut his bonds and send him over the edge. The three of you have until he falls to surrender to me unconditionally. The choice is yours."

Batman, Robin, and Batgirl stared at one another with wide, horrified eyes. "You’re a monster," Batgirl said.

"Perhaps. I think they are making final adjustments on the bonds and will begin cutting in just a moment."

"What guarantee do we have of Sir Sterling’s safety once we are in your custody?" Batman asked.

"Oh, none. But, if you all fail to surrender, I guarantee my maids will turn him into——" He paused. "What do you call it? Oh, yes, a street pizza," Max Chessman said with a wicked smile.

"They’ve drawn blades, Batman," Batgirl reported.

"With a man’s life hanging in the balance, you leave us no choice."

"Gosh, Batman, when you put it like that, I have to agree."

"And you, my dear?" Chessman asked.

"Agreed. We surrender unconditionally."

"Good," Max Chessman said happily. He pulled a cell phone from an inner coat pocket and tapped the button. "I have them. Let Sir Sterling go and take him back to his room. Then join us in the chessboard workings."

As the Terrific Trio looked on, Camilla and Sarah pulled their victim from the slide to safety on the roof. Security Pawns were getting to their feet and taking hold of the prisoners.

"Now, what plans do you have for us?" Batman asked.

"You’ll find out soon enough.
“Pawns, take them to the chessboard workings and make the usual disposal arrangements. I have to track down Playgirl." The Security Pawns obeyed.

Meanwhile, in the casino, Playgirl was playing and winning.

Playgirl couldn’t afford to spend too long playing and her position at the hotel gave her a psychological advantage over the croupiers and dealers. She was close to their boss and knew they would be unsure whether she was to be allowed to win or if she was to be treated like one of the regular patrons. It was best to be safe where the boss’s newest woman was concerned.

"You’re doing well," Max said, joining her at the table.

Playgirl turned. "I didn’t expect you to be free so soon," she said, her voice quavering. She mastered her emotions quickly, raking in chips and preparing to bet again.

Chessman’s hand touched hers. "Let me show you the accommodations I’ve made for the recent arrivals you greeted.”

"Do you mean you’ve——?"

"Yes. Would you like to help me entertain them?" He winked at her as he said it.

"Naturally," she said, resuming a businesslike demeanor. "Cash me out. I’ll pick the money up later." Chessman nodded at the dealer before Playgirl slid her arm through his. "Shall we?" They departed.

By the time the criminal couple arrived, the Terrific Trio had been incorporated into a complex system of gear-driven machinery.

Batman’s hips and shoulders had been lashed to a square, grill-like shelf from which his arms and legs extended. His extremities had been spread-eagled so his elbows and knees could be lashed to the shelf’s corners. Robin hung suspended face down in a harness, his body bent like a drawn bow with wrists and ankles extended and raised by overhead pulleys. Batgirl stood like a purple hourglass. Her ankles had been bound together and lashed to a pipe running parallel to the floor. Her arms had been stretched above her head and fastened to a horizontal gear.

Security Pawns had been admiring their prisoners and handiwork until their bosses arrived. "Pawns, all of you are dismissed to tend to our other guest. I want him softened up. Use the customary dosage."

"It seems the real Max Chessman has emerged from the shadows at last."

"It was time, my dear Batgirl. The initial stage of my work in Gotham City is nearing completion. Regrettably, I’ve left several loose ends that need to be tidied up before I depart." As if on cue, Camilla and Sarah arrived. "I face the tasks ahead with mixed emotions. I’m leaving most of what needs to be done in my maids’ very capable hands, however, the three of you remain to oppose me and since I started our fight, leadership demands I finish it myself."

"Leadership and the fact Playgirl failed," Batgirl said.

Max Chessman glanced at his companion. "Quite." As the conversation went on, Playgirl felt the weight of Camilla and Sarah’s eyes on her. Chessman continued, "Right, we may as well get on with it. I’m sure you noticed the life-sized chess board in the lobby." None of the prisoners had ever set foot in the hotel lobby and shook their heads. Chessman cleared his throat, dissappointed. "I see. Well, recently, in all of my hotels, I’ve set up a life-sized chess board to play out famous games. In the United States, people don’t follow chess as closely as in other parts of the world. So, here the concept is more challenging."

"We are standing among the mechanisms that enable the game to play itself out above?"

"Precisely, Playgirl. As I was saying, Americans are familiar with fewer great chess games. Fortunately, the computer giant IBM has a computer, Deep Blue, that played World Grand Master Gary Kasparov."

Batgirl recalled how fanatical feminist Nora Clavicle had stolen Deep Blue a couple of years ago and tried to compel her to play it. Everyone had expected Deep Blue’s game to resemble those played by the late Russian Master and three-time Moscow champion known as ‘‘the Wizard of Ice’’. His game had been compared to eating fish. "First, he stripped off the skin, then he picked out the bones, then he ate the fish." The villainess had arranged for her enemy to explode when the game was inevitably lost. The gambit which had brought Batgirl safely through that experience had been more desperate than most of her fantastic escapes.

Now, the computer was being indirectly employed to kill her once again. If the stakes in these games had not been mortal, the games would quickly have become tiresome.

"Kasparov played Deep Blue twice."

"Yes, Boy Wonder. I’ve chosen the first game of their first match."

"Kasparov won that game. Deep Blue won two games and the other three were draws."

"Excellent, Batman. You’re quite right."

"I assume you’ve used these chess games to eliminate your enemies in the past?"

"Very perceptive, Batgirl. As my guests marvel at the brilliance of the moves made by the masters, the gears and other mechanisms that manipulate the pieces will go to work on each of you at key times during the game."

"How dastardly," Batman said.

"First, Batman will be squashed as the white knight is captured by its counterpart in the twenty-third move."

"Smashing," Camilla said happily, shifting her gaze from Playgirl to Sarah.

"The Dark Knight dies as the white knight is captured," Sarah observed. "How poetic."

"I’d call it ironic," Playgirl said, chuckling.

Chessman continued. "On the thirtieth move, when the black bishop captures the rook, each of Robin’s limbs will detach from the rest of his body. I suppose one could call his death a bit of a stretch." Chessman chuckled at his own joke.

"Good one," Playgirl complimented him.

"Last, but certainly not least, Batgirl will experience one of the quirks of the game as the black queen captures her counterpart four moves later. The game twirls the queens whenever they are moved for any reason. The shackles on your ankles will keep your feet rooted in place while the rest of your body is rotated, thus ripping muscles from your skeleton; snapping your bones; and shredding your flesh."

"How twisted!" Batgirl said contemptuously.

"That should take care of everything," Playgirl said, well aware all eyes followed her as she strode to the lever, which would set the game in motion. "Would you grant me the privilege?"

"By all means, Playgirl. I brought you in to kill them, after all." Playgirl threw the switch and stood listening as the white king’s knight was developed above. "I suppose we should be going."

"Not just yet," Max Chessman said. "I have one other item of unfinished business. Ladies, if you would be so unkind."

"But of course," Camilla said.

"I’ve been looking forward to this," Sarah said.

Both of Max Chessman’s malevolent maids advanced menacingly on Playgirl, who backed toward a pair of gigantic, vertical gears. "What’s happening, Max?’’

"Holy Lack of Honor among Thieves!" Robin said.

"You know far too much about me, Playgirl," Chessman said as the maids began to subdue her. The fight was drawn out, but one-sided. Shortly after its conclusion, Playgirl found herself bound helplessly between two gigantic gears.

"I do hope you’re comfortable," Sarah gloated.

"If not, be assured it will get worse soon enough," Camilla agreed gleefully.

"I owe you the chance to watch your enemies die," Max Chessman said, "however, one move after Batgirl is twisted into the afterlife, the black queen is taken by her opposing rook. At that time, your body will be ground to pieces between those gears."

Above them, the black queen’s pawn advanced two spaces.

"You ungrateful finks, this is how you thank me after everything I’ve done for you!"

Sarah chuckled and continued, "Max knows you’ve diverted hotel funds to your own Swiss accounts. It will take time to dismantle the mechanisms you’ve put in place to effectuate the embezzlement, but meanwhile our people who clean up your mess will know the penalty for that sort of mischief is severe, to say the least."

"This exercise should prove quite motivational," Camilla agreed. "Everything about you has been transparent and obvious." She laughed coldly.

"Well, my bags are being packed as we speak," Chessman said, including the Terrific Trio in his audience once again. "As the four of you are released from the mortal coil, I will be preparing to wing my way abroad in preparation for selling the information Playgirl has so helpfully enabled me to obtain."

"And Sarah and I will make sure he has a pleasant trip," Camilla said.

"A long and pleasant trip,’’ Sarah said. "His private plane isn’t even in Gotham City. When we get back here, all of you will be dead and the Security Pawns will have finished softening up Sir Sterling Habits."

Camilla continued, "He’ll readily tell us to whom Max can sell his information. Once we convey those names to Max, he can take advantage of it and return in time for the high tech conference that will serve as the venue for the next stage in our plans.’’

Playgirl renewed her tirade against Chessman and his pulchritudinous partners in crime.

"I believe we’ve all said more than enough," Chessman said when she had finished. "Shall we go, my dears?" Chessman’s murderous maids nodded and waved to the prisoners. "Farewell to you all." Max Chessman departed with Camilla and Sarah’s arms linked with each of his. Above, the white king’s knight pawn slid forward one square.

"Any ideas, Batman?" Robin asked.

"I won’t be able to reach my utility belt tied like this." Batman tested his bonds and found no fault with them. "The Security Pawns left no slack at all for me with which to work."

"I’m not optimistic about my chances, either, strung up like this in these pulleys," Robin said.

Batgirl, meanwhile, was testing her bonds and finding the knots expertly tied. She realized she could manipulate her body position by bending her knees and elbows. "I can move around a little," she announced.

"What good will that do any of us?" Playgirl demanded. "You can strike different kinky bondage poses while we all die. So what?"

"We aren’t dead yet, Playgirl."

"Well said, Robin," Batman encouraged.

"Well said, Robin. That is, like, so totally lame, Batman."

Batgirl ignored Playgirl as she minutely examined the gear her wrists were bound to above her and the pipe to which her ankles were bound. She realized the pipe was composed of a number of lengths of short pipe fitted into metal sleeves where their ends met.

Another chess piece moved above them.

Playgirl had resorted to glaring at her enemies as they watched Batgirl examine the pipe her legs were bound to, and begin bending her knees; elbows; and waist. "Making any progress, Batgirl?" Batman asked.

"It’s too soon to say. I have an idea, though." She shifted her weight and felt the pipe wiggle. "I’m going to try to rotate this pipe."

"A fat lot of good that will do us," Playgirl said cynically.

"The pipe moving is just the kind of little thing that could keep us alive!" Robin said.

Batman was staring at the pipe and nodding. "It could work."

Batgirl let her body sag from her wrist bindings and stretched her toes toward the floor. Once she had touched it, she began to raise and lower her hips vigorously. After awhile, she felt the pipe begin to twist backward and forward in its sleeves. She redoubled her efforts and kept the pipe rotating until she was exhausted.

"Was it good for you?" Playgirl asked mockingly.

"Now I know why we wait for the villains to leave before escaping!" Robin said.

Above them another chess piece moved.

"What’s next, Batgirl?" Batman asked once she had recovered.

"I need to find out if there is room to move the pipe from side to side. I think that is the only chance we have."

She straightened and wrenched her lower body back and forth. Everyone was silent, listening intently to Batgirl’s exertions and the anguished sounds of the pipe moving. It seemed to take a very long time before each of Batgirl’s movements was rewarded with a click as the pipe collided with its counterpart inside the sleeves.

"It’s working," Batman said tersely.

Batgirl rested after a moment and began moving the loosened pipe back and forth; forward and back; as well as up and down. The clicking of pipe ends colliding grew louder as she exerted more force. As the Dominoed Dare Doll worked, the sleeves began to wiggle and their edges flared.

"The pipe is almost loose," Robin said.

"She’ll be able to get her legs loose," Playgirl said. "She’ll still be hanging from that gear, though."

Black castled above them.

"It’s coming," Batgirl said a few minutes later, as one end of the pipe came loose from its sleeve.

"That’s it, Batgirl!" Batman encouraged as she slid the pipe free from the sleeve at the other side. "Yes!" Batgirl said, sliding her feet from the pipe and kicking her ropes away.

"Now what?" Playgirl asked with interest.

"Watch." Batgirl stood on her toes for a moment and inhaled. Then, she hung from the gear above and lifted her legs parallel to the floor. She continued moving her legs, curling them upward until her hips were at about the level of her hands.

"Holy Gymnastics!" Robin said.

"Keep it up, Batgirl. You’re doing it!" Batman said.

Playgirl made a small noise as another chess piece moved above them.

When Batgirl lowered her legs, she held a blade in her right hand. "I’ll be out of here in a minute." Batgirl’s tiny blade made short work of the ropes binding her hands. She was half-way across the room when the cut ropes hit the floor.

Batgirl freed the Dynamic Duo with a dozen quick slashes. "We owe you our lives once again, Batgirl."

"Gosh, yes," Robin agreed with the Caped Crusader.

"I’m happy to return the favor."

Robin stepped toward Playgirl. He stopped as Batgirl put a hand on his shoulder.

The machinery manipulated another chess piece above them. "Hey! What about me?" Playgirl demanded.

"Why don’t you two go help Sir Sterling Habits."

"You found the room where they’ll be working on him, didn’t you, Batman?" Robin asked.

"Yes, there is no telling what they are doing to Sir Sterling now." Batman agreed. "Let’s go, old chum."

“Batman! Don’t leave!” Playgirl cried. The Caped Crusader had a reputation for being always the gentleman. Batgirl, on the other hand, was known for exacting vengeance every once in a while. “Batman! Come back!”

Once Batman and Robin had dashed off, Batgirl stood in the center of the room regarding Playgirl with hands on hips and legs spread to shoulder width. "Well, Playgirl, it seems the shoe is on the other foot." A chess piece moved above them.

Playgirl’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at the smiling sentinel. ‘‘You’re going to leave me here to die? Why you little @#$%^&*”

"Such language," Batgirl said, shaking her head once Playgirl paused for breath. "I have decided to leave you just as you are.

Playgirl whimpered in utter despair.

“However,” Batgirl continued, “I’ll shut the chess game down before I go."

At first, Playgirl was grateful. Then she realized the position in which she would be left. "Why don’t you just cut me down and arrest me?’’

"Let’s see. We can start with your pinball machine. I recall that excruciating experience quite vividly. You next tried to put me away in that virtual reality game forever. You also tried to entomb me in the giant quicksand cake. Finally, my experience in your Death Bubble was quite suffocating."

"Can’t we just let bygones by bygones?"

"Considering you never finished paying your debt to society over the first two offenses on my list, I don’t think we can."

"I didn’t think you would be the type of woman to hold a grudge."

"As a woman, you should know no woman forgets anything, ever."

"Then you know I’ll remember this."

"Of course. Now, if I were worried, I could still change my mind about turning this machinery off," Batgirl couldn’t resist suggesting.

Playgirl swallowed hard. "But, I just realized something." Batgirl widened her smile and let a mischievous light glint in her eyes. Playgirl stared at her with questioning eyes as Batgirl walked to the lever and switched off the machines. "It’s better I’m not tempted to forget this again," she said, leaning against the wall and folding her arms.

"What did you just realize?" Playgirl asked fearfully.

"Oh, all right. I’ll tell you," Batgirl said, pretending to think about it. "Chief O’Hara has had a lot of bad press since Nora Clavicle and Bane broke most of Gotham City’s underworld out of jail."

"That idiot?"

"I’ll tell him you said that," Batgirl threatened. "Anyway, since you were featured on America’s Most Wanted, I could start repairing Chief O’Hara’’s reputation by letting him arrest you personally. It would be a great photo op for him."

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

Batgirl grinned. "I suppose I am. But, I’m sure you’d agree it would be a shame to let Mr. Chessman get away after everything that happened."

Playgirl glowered at Batgirl while she considered that sentiment. "I don’t know where he’s going."

"I may know someone who does. Keep smiling while I contact them. You have a date with Chief O’Hara. And as I know you’d say to me if our positions were reversed, bye bye."

Playgirl smiled at the thought of Batgirl, who was showing her mean streak, capturing Chessman. Then she realized whoever she called might capture Chessman instead of simply telling Batgirl where to find him. Then she considered what Batgirl had just said and went back to being furious with her enemy. "I’ll get you for this! You haven’t heard the last of me!" Batgirl, of course, was long gone and never heard her.

Elsewhere, Sir Sterling Habits was being held down by two of Max Chessman’s Security Pawns while another prepared a particularly unpleasant looking hypodermic needle. "Okay, pal," the Security Pawn with the needle said. "Last chance to save yourself and us a lot of trouble. Who is the boss gonna sell his stuff to?"

"I say, you ruffian," Sir Sterling blustered. "I will not tolerate being interrogated in this manner. Your question employs a dangling preposition and does not have a proper verb. Why have you colonials never learned to speak properly?"

"What?" the needle-wielder asked, puzzled, bewildered, and surprised by the defiant barrage of words from the Englishman.

Before Sir Sterling could respond again, the Dynamic Duo burst through the door and dispatched the diplomat’s interrogators. Robin released Sir Sterling while Batman Batcuffed the Security Pawns.

"Look out! Four more of them!" Sir Sterling warned. He backed away from the Batfight and watched Batman and Robin defend him. After a few moments, the room lay in shambles and the Security Pawns lay moaning. Robin attended to the Security Pawns while Batman escorted the diplomat to a handy wet bar.

"Well, gentlemen," Sir Sterling said, raising a tumbler after Batman quickly described what had happened since the Terrific Trio had left him, "All that remains is apprehending that blighter, Chessman."

"I have a feeling Batgirl is attending to that," Batman said.

"Good show."

In the meantime, Batgirl had made her way to a phone and inserted an anti-eavesdrop plug. She first called the police to advise them of where they could pick up Playgirl and convey her suggestion it would be a good photo opportunity for Chief O’Hara.

Her second call was to the Ministry’s answering service. "Hello," she said, once someone answered. "This is Batgirl. I was given this number in the event I learned anything interesting about Max Chessman."

"One moment, Miss."

Far away, the man who was perhaps the Ministry’s top professional picked up the phone and listened. "Thank you," he said. "Put her on." He paused while he was connected with Batgirl. "I understand you have some information for me about Max Chessman."

"Yes. He left Gotham City in the past hour on his way to a private plane. He’s nearly accomplished whatever he was doing here. I believe it has something to do with satellite technology. Anyway, I learned he would be going abroad less than an hour ago and that his plane is not in Gotham City."

"Thank you for your help. Is there anything else?"

"One more thing, perhaps. Mr. Chessman has been working with a woman called Playgirl. She is an expert in graphics technology and will know more specifically what he has in mind."

"Where is this Playgirl?"

"She is about to be apprehended by the Gotham City Police."

"I see. I appreciate your help, Batgirl. Let us take care of Mr. Chessman. Thank you again." The man hung up the phone and finished the glass of champagne he had just sampled. When he set the glass down, he looked at the talented amateur reassigned to him nearly a year and a half previously. She returned his gaze quizzically. "We’re needed," he told her.

Batman and Robin had made sure Sir Sterling Habits was not involved in Playgirl’s capture, which had become a media event. The diplomat thanked them as they dropped him off at the Gotham City British Consulate. The men shook hands all around before Batman and Robin headed home. Elsewhere, Batgirl switched off the radio on her Batgirl cycle. She had been enjoying an interview with Chief O’Hara in which he discussed Playgirl’s capture. Since the broadcast had concluded, she stepped on the kick-starter and merged into traffic.

Back to Batgirl Bat-Trap stories

Back to the Batgirl Bat-Trap Homepage!

You are visitor number to read this week's story.