Gambit: Endgame

Both Batgirl and Emma Peel’s eyes followed their rigid arms to the ropes they held. Their gaze went along the ropes up through the overhead pulley systems and on to the deadly axes poised above them.

“Do you see anything?” Batgirl asked.

“I can’t see either pulley well enough to tell if we could somehow tangle our ropes,” Mrs. Peel said.

“Neither can I, but I’m going to try something,” Batgirl said. She inhaled and yanked downward on the rope she gripped with her free hand.

The rope didn’t give an inch. Apparently, the axes were restrained from being pulled any farther back.

“If this trap’s flaw is in the overhead apparatus, we may never know,” Batgirl declared.

“We’ll need a fresh approach,” Mrs. Peel said. “What would have to happen to make the axes miss when they fall?”

“Either the axes’ trajectories would have to change, or we would have to get our heads out of the way.”

Mrs. Peel began to tilt her head experimentally, looking over each of her shoulders, tilting her head back, and finally nodding while drawing her chin all the way to her chest. “The best plan I can see is risky. Could we nudge the edge of the blade aside at the last second with our heads?”

“We’d each get one chance with zero margin for error,” Batgirl objected.

“I know. I don’t much like my plan.”

“Let’s keep that method in reserve if we can’t come up with something safer.”

“Fine. We have to hurry, though. This axe is getting heavy.”

“Hold on! We’re not going to let Chessman beat us.” Batgirl knew her companion was right. Both captives were in excellent physical condition. Even so, the axes they restrained were genuine weapons, never intended to be held with one hand, much less employed in the twisted manner Chessman had devised. No concession of any kind had been made for the captives’ comfort. Batgirl was fearfully conscious of how easily the rope could slide against the fabric of her glove -- with deadly results. So, she resolved to closely follow the advice she had given Mrs. Peel herself and tightened her grip on the rope.

Mrs. Peel thrashed in her chains, making no headway against them. “Blast! A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, but I’m afraid these are all quite solid.”

“You may be on to something!” Batgirl said. “The weakest links in these chains are likely to be the locks.”

“Right. If they were locked, they can also be unlocked!”

“Precisely. I have a few things we can use to pick the locks.”

“Can you reach any of them?”

“No, but you might. Try for my belt with your shackled hand.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Peel said inhaling. “Here it goes.” She reached toward her fellow captive and let her fingers touch Batgirl’s hip. The Briton lowered her shoulder and stretched her fingers, letting them slide across the shiny lurex closer to Batgirl’s abdomen. Ultimately, Mrs. Peel’s fingers reached their limit. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Batgirl.”

“Don’t give up yet! I’m going to try to get my belt closer to your hand.” Batgirl thrashed in her chains and found she was unable to shift her position to any effect. “Okay,” Batgirl said resignedly. “This isn’t working.”

“What now?”

“Now we try for one of my backups. They have saved my life more than once.”

“Where are they?”

“There’s one in the middle flange of my glove.”

“I should be able to reach it, if you can shimmy the cuff toward your hand.”

Both women watched as Batgirl rubbed her glove against her shackle until its middle flange came within Mrs. Peel’s reach. The Briton twisted her hand so her fingers were able to feel the tip of the tiny tool. She worked the lockpick until it became visible. She then gripped it carefully and extracted it. “Good work, Emma. Can you free my hand?”

“I’d be better with my other hand. Why don’t I hand the pick to you? My hands are sweating and I’m worried it will slip.”

“Alright.” Batgirl took the tiny tool and went to work on the lock binding her wrist. It seemed to take forever, but finally the lock opened with an audible click. Batgirl tied off the rope she was holding onto the shackle that had bound her. “Looking good,” she said. When Gotham’s Purple-clad Protector sat up, the complex network of chains that had been holding her beneath the suspended blade noisily slid away.

“I’m going to release my rope now,” Mrs. Peel said.

“Go ahead!” Mrs. Peel let go, causing the axe that had been hovering above Batgirl’s throat to clatter to the stone floor.

“I’ll have you out of those shackles in just a moment,” Batgirl promised and was as good as her word. She retrieved her spark plug and slid it into a spare compartment of her belt. “Now, they usually lock the doors.”

“The locked doors won’t be a problem. They’re made of wood,” Mrs. Peel said, retrieving the fallen axe.

“Maybe not,” Batgirl agreed, retrieving the other. “They’re very thick, though. I’d better help you.”

Together, the two heroines advanced on their prison doors.

Meanwhile, in his palatial office, Max Chessman tapped the button on his answering machine. “Hello, Max,” a female voice said. “This is Vicki Vale. I’ve missed you, but I suppose we’ve both been very busy since dinner the other night. Anyway, I wondered if you’d like to join me for a helicopter ride this morning. I have to interview the traffic reporter, but they said I could invite a guest to come along. I can promise you’ll enjoy a spectacular view. Oh, and if Gotham City doesn’t impress, you can take me to lunch. Afterwards, who knows?” She giggled impishly before her voice took on a very sultry quality as the message ended. “Call me.”

“It seems your dinner with Ms. Vale went well,” Christie remarked.

Having no more messages, Chessman crossed the room to the sideboard. He arranged glasses on a tray and carried them to the desk with a bottle of champagne. He opened the bottle and poured five glasses.

“You’re a wicked woman, Christie. A day with Ms. Vale would be delightful.”

“That is not a denial,” she pointed out.

“Never mind, my dear. Let us drink to the memories of Mrs. Peel and Batgirl,” he suggested.

“Cheers,” his companions said simultaneously. They then all sipped their champagne.

“I’m afraid I’ll need you to take care of a few more unpleasant chores. Doctor Geistglauber has served his purpose. I’m very much afraid he has become expendable.”

“He won’t be a problem,” Tiffany said. “I’m sure we can arrange a suitably deadly accident for the unlucky scientist.”

“At one time, that might have seemed like the way to handle the problem, but when Dr. Geistglauber wrote a code to torpedo my plans, he insisted on being disposed of in a more straightforward manner.”

“You do want him killed?” Tiffany asked.

“With dispatch and prejudice.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Sarah promised.

“Shall we give the girl to the men?” Camilla asked.

“No.”

“No?” Camilla repeated. “Your plans change?”

“The men should have captured Mrs. Peel and Batgirl. They didn’t. You ladies’ excellent performance with regard to our late guests has robbed the of men of the chance to entertain the lovely Heidi Geistglauber.”

“No problem,” Tiffany said. “We’ll get rid of her when we take care of the good doctor.”

“It’s settled then,” Christie observed.

Chessman smiled and went on, “Let’s drink to our supremacy.” Once they had all drained their glasses, Chessman refilled them. “Right. On to a more pleasant subject. My developing relationship with Vicki Vale will, together with the new technology from Doctor Geistglauber, give us a splendid opportunity.”

“What’s that, boss?” Tiffany asked.

“We can rid the world of Batman and Robin forever.”

“We’ve tried to kill them before,” Camilla said.

“Who hasn’t?” Sarah asked.

Chessman laughed and continued, “You all misunderstand. Killing them is the second step. First, I want to make sure the proliferating bat population is put permanently to rest.”

“What do you mean?” Christie asked.

“Have you ever asked yourself why Batman is so successful?” Chessman posed.

“He’s tough,” Tiffany declared.

“He’s smart,” Christie disagreed.

“He is totally focused and ruthlessly pursues criminals,” Camilla said. “I think crime fighting is an obsession for him.”

“Batman has this aura. The police work with him, and most crooks are afraid of him. I think he uses these psychological phenomena to his advantage,” Sarah said. “He has recruited Robin and a trio of lady helpers as well.”

“There is something to all of your theories, my dears. My own feeling is that Batman’s success is due to his preparedness. One popular thing to do in prison, for some reason, is to discuss various criminals’ failed plots to kill Batman and his assistants. My favorite story of this type illustrates my point. The Joker, Penguin, Riddler, and Catwoman tried to use Batman as a human worm to catch a shark they had caged beneath the projected image of a yacht. Batman escaped using Shark-Repellent-Bat-Spray.”

“How could the crooks, even such smart ones, have known Batman would carry Shark-Repellent-Bat-Spray?” Christie demanded.

“It isn’t fair!” Tiffany protested.

“So, boss, you think Batman is the ultimate Boy Scout?” Camilla asked.

“No. I think he has become very good at anticipating dangers he may encounter and taking steps in advance to overcome them. How do you think he does that?”

“With the Batcomputer,” Sarah answered.

“Precisely. Now, with Dr. Geistglauber’s assistance, we have the means to destroy it forever.”

“Batman won’t be completely helpless without his toys,” Camilla warned.

“Agreed. Without the Batcomputer, however, he won’t be able to anticipate the trap we set for him. In my plan, his resources also will not be available for anyone working to avenge his death after we’ve arranged it,” Chessman explained.

“Sounds good. All we have to do is find the Batcave,” Tiffany said. “How do you plan to do that?”

Max Chessman leaned forward and fixed his amorous assistants with sparkling eyes. “I’m delighted you asked. Permit me to explain.” He talked for a long while. Then he concluded, “I’m sure you’ll all agree the charmed life he leads is about to come to an end.” The five grinning fiends laughed.

Had Max Chessman known of the peril the Dynamic Duo would soon encounter, he might have bitten his tongue. The heroes’ long night of crime fighting would end with yet another planned fatal conclusion to their illustrious careers.

The letterhead on the page the Dynamic Duo acquired from the singing telegram messenger led them to The Nightingale Club. Shortly after their arrival, every male member of the club’s staff attacked them. Patrons fled in all directions as the Caped Crusader and the Boy Wonder rendered the club's male employees unconscious one by one. As the partners in crime fighting shook hands following the physical attack, a supersonic sound wave assailed them.

Their Bat-Earplugs kept them from becoming immediately overwhelmed, yet whoever was behind the attack was not easily dissuaded. Their tonal torture continued relentlessly, growing more intense as the assault on their senses wore on, weakening them.

“Holy Secondary Strike, Batman! Someone is pretty well prepared,” Robin shouted, stretching out his arms and clapping his hands over his ears. His equilibrium began to be effected.

Batman recognized the sinister sound wave as the source of the male club employees’ attack. “Hang on, Rob-in!” Batman shouted as he felt his own knees begin to buckle. He clapped his hands over his ears and began to thrash his head from side to side, vainly trying to ward off the effects of the terrible tones.

“Batman!” the Twenty-Year Old Thunderbolt cried as he collapsed under his own weight and thrashed his head around as well.

The sound went on for several minutes after the Dynamic Duo finally lay still. Then, with almost surreal suddenness, the sonic siege ceased.

Batman and Robin had come to the club planning to net the thieves. Ironically, the trio of seemingly familiar female figures approaching them carried an enormous net themselves. Batman and Robin’s captors stooped to relieve the Dynamic Duo of their belts and Bat-Earplugs before winding the net around the helpless heroes. Entwined together, they were taken to a room on one of the club’s upper floors, which resembled an ancient Greek temple. There, a petite, well-proportioned brunette in a pair of silver boots and a matching dress which left her legs and one shoulder bare, watched carefully as her merciless minions secured the net tightly to a stone altar.

“Welcome, Batman and Robin. I’m sure you noticed how well the architecture downstairs conveys sounds,” their hostess said, laughing.

“Siren,” Batman said softly as their comely captor approached and leaned over them, leering lasciviously.

“We noticed,” Robin responded. He had also noticed the classical Greco-Roman gowns with which the sinister singer’s succulent sycophants had adorned themselves. Their dresses fit them very well.

“I hope my notable nymphs have made you comfortable,” the satanic super-soprano said charitably.

“While I would be hard pressed to agree, your musical minions have done their jobs very well,” Batman said. He paused for a moment before adding, “Again.”

“Oh, you recognize my recently recruited rogues?”

“They’ve all come a long way since we first met them,” Batman observed.

Each member of the terrible trio, Doe; Rae; and Mimi, had indeed had a long and colorful criminal career. On most occasions, they had worked together.

“Holy Apparition!” Robin exclaimed. “Chandell’s ghostly girl assistants are now working for the Siren!”

The Caped Crusader had first become aware of the treacherous threesome when they had robbed stately Wayne Manor and the Burma Import Company as part of Chandell’s criminal schemes to pay off his blackmailing twin brother, Harry.

They had turned on their master when he had announced he would go straight. The three had been turned over to the authorities, along with the twins, when the Dynamic Duo had smashed the gang.

They had resurfaced two years later as part of a trap set for Batman and Robin by the demented Madame DeBase. Together with several of Batman and Robin’s greatest enemies’ former henchwomen, the horrible harem had rendered the heroes helpless before setting about destroying Batman and Robin’s reputation. Batgirl had foiled that plot, but the toned, fine-tuned triple threats had evaded the subsequent dragnet. The three faded from sight like the phantoms they had first portrayed.

Now, they had reappeared.

“Yes, Robin, so it would seem,” the Caped Crusader agreed. “You’ll recall they don’t always choose musical masters, however, I don’t need the Batcomputer to tell me this little criminal chorus conducts itself best, or perhaps would adapt most harmoniously, to an arrangement in which a musical motif has been orchestrated.”

“Yes, Batman. That would be our signature tune,” Rae remarked, favoring him with a wicked smile. “We’re all delighted, however, that you found our last encounter to be so memorable.”

“How could he help but recall how well we treated him?” Mimi asked.

“It might have had something to do with your twin sister, Undine; Moth, and Nora Clavicle’s toadies, Evelina and Angelina, helping you,” Batman said matter-of-factly.

“Instead of being insulted, Batman,” Doe began, “perhaps we should give you a little reminder. I’m sure you’d enjoy it. I know we all would.” The four of them recalled how the girls had given Batman’s feet and legs a good deal of amorous attention at Madame DeBase’s demonic direction. Doe’s voice did not disguise her delight at the recollection.

“What about Robin?” Rae asked.

“He doesn’t look like the adolescent twerp he was back when we worked for Chandell,” Mimi observed.

“When we worked for Madame DeBase, he seemed of most interest to those British teeny-boppers,” Rae recalled. “Now, however . . . .”

“I see what you mean,” Doe said.

Robin recalled how Lady Prudence and her evil entourage of pretty student bodies had relished what he preferred to remember as the “rubdown” Madame DeBase had allowed them to give him. He was struck as he heard Doe pick up on Rae’s line of thinking. He tried to keep his face an impassive mask as these beautiful and enthralling young women discussed him as if he were a piece of meat.

The mask he wished to wear would not stay in place and that horrified him. Years ago, Batman had told him how easily he would one day be lured by the female of the species, yet he was surprised at the effect the beauty and apparent interest in him the Siren’s admittedly attractive assistants was having. He resolved again to take his mentor’s advice about keeping his sights high. His interest would remain in “good girls,” such as Flamebird and DynaGirl (and maybe Batgirl?) and reformed ones like Susie. He wondered, though, if Batman’s words might have multiple meanings and applications outside of crime fighting.

“Boss,” Mimi asked, “could we have them for a couple of hours before their finale? Please?”

“I’m sorry, girls. We must put business before pleasure,” the Siren said. “Good business aside, Robin and Batgirl kept me from taking over millionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne’s financial empire. I had Batgirl in my power once since then, but I’ve never properly paid back the Boy Blunder.”

“Nonsense. Before Batgirl saved us and went after you, Batman and I recovered from your sinister spell at Gotham City Savings and Loan Company to find ourselves literally sitting on a time bomb,” Robin protested. “What more could you have possibly done to me if we’d been blown up then?”

Siren threw her head back and laughed melodiously. “You weren’t yourselves on that occasion until well after I left. Besides, I never got to spend the money.” The humor left her voice as she focused on Robin once again. “I have another tiny score to settle with you. After you and Batgirl kept me from taking over Mr. Wayne’s world, you threatened to drop me off the side of a building, thus making me release Bruce from my spell! That destroyed my ability to naturally control men with my voice!”

“You’ve been able to compensate with technology,” Batman reminded her.

“True. I’ve also had to maintain a low profile since escaping from the cell you put me in.”

“Siren, as Lorelei Circe, you have the beauty and intelligence to revive your career. You could earn enough money to keep you comfortable and admired in the public eye for decades to come.”

“Thank you, Batman. You’re very kind. If I weren’t afraid of the scandal my technical means of making music would cause upon discovery, I might have taken your advice long ago. Look what happened to Chandell once it became known he used a player piano for his command performance at the White House. Besides, I want revenge too badly to give up on it now that you two are once again in my power. I went to considerable trouble bringing you here. I don’t really have much of a grievance against you, Batman, but you’ll never let me get away with just killing Robin. If I thought you would, I might let you live.“ She shrugged.

“Is Batgirl on your list too, since you and Chandell’s phantoms are feeling vengeful?”

“Certainly, Boy Wonder,” the conniving chanteuse confirmed. “My compliments on that deduction. I understand the girls are quite upset with Batgirl for spoiling the fun they were having with Batman at their last encounter.

“But for now, let us return to the present. In just a few moments, I’ll put my little band of bad girls to work on you and Batman. Then, when their work is done, we’ll have eliminated both of you once and for all,” Siren said. She laughed and addressed her next remark to both of her prisoners. “I’m sure you both understand.”

“All too well, Siren,” Batman confirmed.

“Good. Rae and Mimi, fetch the baskets.” Siren stepped well back from the altar as her insidious instruments of death obeyed.

Batman and Robin watched as two tall, cylindrical baskets, both wider in the middle than at the top or bottom, were placed on the floor at their feet.

“Excellent,” Siren praised. “Remove the lids and step over here by Doe and me.” As Rae and Mimi followed Siren’s directions, the melodious malefactor continued to orchestrate the Dynamic Duo’s demise. “Doe, give our guests a sample of their swan song.”

The redheaded rogue put a flute to her lips and began to toot a tune reminiscent of one a snake charmer might perform. As the perfidious piper played, serpentine heads began to emerge from each of the baskets, one brown, the other gray.

“Holy Venomous Vengeance, Batman!” Robin exclaimed. He was fixated on the snakes, staring at their yellow throats. Batman noted the light stripes and the dark diamond patterns on what he could see of their slowly rising bodies.

“Doe, stop playing,” Siren ordered. The reptiles’ heads sank slowly back into their baskets.

“I’m a little surprised they returned to their baskets,” Batman remarked. “Most snakes are deaf and don’t really react to the snake charmer’s music, but to his movements.”

“Very good,. Batman,” Siren praised. “I’ve chosen to leave you two to play with a couple of South American fer de lances. These two are small, only about five feet long, but you’ll find their bite quite potent.”

“You smuggled them in for our ‘benefit’?” Batman asked.

“Oh, yes. They’re hunters, and bats are mere rodents,” Siren said, chuckling. “Once we’ve gone, you’ll be the only warm blooded creatures to whom they’ll be exposed. They have special organs that will enable them to find you. I’m afraid you’ll be their last meal. My tropical babies won’t last long in this climate, but considering how venomous they are, that may be just as well. After all, I’d hate to expose my public to such an exotic danger.”

“You don’t expect me to stand here and play while our diners devour their meal, do you, boss?” Doe asked fearfully.

“No, Doe. I’ve recorded some appropriate ‘Bye Bye Bat-Music’ for our guests. Now, boys, I do hope you two enjoy your lullaby. Farewell.”

“Our deaths will be your undoing, Siren,” Batman predicted, “in the unlikely event this set-up somehow succeeds!”

Siren revealed she had been holding a small control in her hand the entire time. She pushed a button. Flute music similar to the tune Doe had played began to be heard. “Come on!” Siren directed.

The criminal quartet curtseyed to their victims before vacating the faux temple. The venomous vipers began to emerge from their baskets once again.

Meanwhile, high above Gotham City, Max Chessman scanned the city with binoculars as Vicki Vale spoke to the traffic reporter on the air and snapped pictures. Suddenly, Chessman pointed out something below, drawing Vicki Vale and the reporter’s attention to it. “I’ve spotted the cause of the delay,” the reporter announced. “Motorists are slowing to get a good look at the Batmobile, parked outside The Nightingale Club. I don’t see any other sign of our famous Dynamic Duo, but I’m sure they won’t rest until whatever villain they’re after is caught. Now, back to the studio.”

“He found them,” Christie said. “Do you have an address on that club?”

Tiffany told her and they approached the Batmobile, threading through the heavy traffic on the surrounding streets. “We would have gotten here faster if Max hadn’t allowed their location to be broadcast,” Tiffany complained.

“He couldn’t very well call us in front of Vale. I’ll drop you off at the end of the street so you can walk past the Batmobile and plant the homing device. Meet me at that coffee shop.”

“Why not just drive around the block and pick me up at this end of the street?”

“Two reasons,” Christie answered. “I’m hungry and if we wait for Batman and Robin to leave, we can test the homing device.”

“Good thinking,” Tiffany said. “I’m hungry, too, now that you mention it. What do you suppose Batman and Robin are doing in there?”

In the faux temple, Robin stared as the deadly snakes slithered from their baskets. The recorded flute music played on as the serpents slid to the floor and out of their intended victims’ sight. “Any ideas, Batman?” the Out-of-His Teens Thunderbolt asked.

“If you can move your left arm, I may have room to reach a knife in my boot.”

“Hurry, Batman. Those snakes could reach us at any moment.” Batman was utterly silent as Robin shifted his position slightly. “Batman?” Robin inquired. He turned his head to look at his senior partner. Robin stared into a pair of tiny, dark eyes. The vision before him hissed and began to rise as Robin’s eyes followed it.

“Robin.”

Batman’s voice was calm and quiet, seeming to come from the other side of the room.

“We may have one slim chance.”

The measured timbre of Batman’s voice, along with the distant quality with which he had imbued it, confused the Boy Wonder momentarily. Then, Robin realized the proximity of the snake was forcing Batman to remain perfectly still. Hence, he could not move his lips when he spoke. Batman was employing his talent as a ventriloquist.

Suddenly, Robin froze. He could feel the other snake begin to slither against his ankle. “What was that you were saying, Batman?”

“It is imperative we remain still and let the snakes come close enough for us to transfix them by staring into their eyes.”

“Holy Hypnotism! What will we do once they’re transfixed?”

“We can only hope they lose interest in us.”

“Gosh, Batman. I don’t know . . .” Robin began to object.

“It may be our only chance, chum.”

Robin could not go on arguing. The snake was preparing to snack upon him and he had to lock eyes with the reptile. He dared not breathe as the snake regarded him, raising its head and moving inexorably forward. As Robin captured the reptile with his gaze, he felt the cold-blooded diner become still. Then, a wave or horror washed over him. He would not be able to hold his breath forever. As the snake’s tongue flicked toward him, Robin risked a shallow breath.

Upon landing, Vicki Vale realized she had stepped from the helicopter too quickly when the wind from the whirring chopper blades blew her carefully coifed hair into disarray. “Max, would you excuse me while I do something about this? I feel like I’ve been hit with one of Catwoman’s hair-raising bombs.”

Chessman smiled sympathetically. “While you do that, I‘ll line up a private lunch for us. When do you have to be back at work?”

Vicki Vale flashed him a dazzling smile and he could see the imps dancing in her eyes as she answered. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, big boy.” He watched appreciatively as she disappeared.

“Lucky big boy,” he murmured as he dialed his cell phone.

“Chessman Hotel Security,” the voice answered.

“Fischer, is that you?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Chessman. How may I be of assistance?”

“Is anyone using the King’s Suite this afternoon?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. I’ll be needing it until further notice.”

“Will you want tape rolling?”

Chessman recalled the look Vicki Vale had flashed him before she left and the tapes of his and Playgirl’s encounters from his private playroom. “I think that is an excellent idea, Fischer. I hope to be arriving via helicopter within the hour.”

“I’ll see to those arrangements personally. Will there be anything else?”

“We’ll need lunch with champagne and let the department heads know I’ll be conducting a tour.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll see you soon.”

Chessman’s cell phone rang as soon as he hung up with his hotel. “Yes?” he said.

“Boss, this is Christie. We’ve planted the homing device on the Batmobile and are all set to track the Dynamic Dunderheads to the Batcave.”

“Good. Is there a problem?”

“We waited to watch them drive away and got impatient. When we found them in the club, it turns out they are about to be fatally snake bitten!”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone’s plans to do away with them are finally about to succeed.”

“I see.” Chessman frowned. Vicki Vale was returning. He remained silent.

“Boss, Tiffany and I are inclined to let them die, but if your plan is to succeed, we’ll need to extract them.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. Follow the plan.”

“You’re sure?” Christie asked hesitantly. “You know how much easier our lives will be if we allow Batman and Robin to be killed.”

Vicki Vale had rejoined him. “I understand your concern, Christie. Carry on as instructed. I can’t talk further just now. You understand?”

”Yes, sir,” she said resignedly.

“Good girl. I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye.”

“Is everything all right?” Vicki Vale asked.

“Perfectly fine. I thought the enterprising photojournalist was taking the day off.”

“I am,” she said, stepping closer to him and pressing her lips to his mouth. He responded and held her in place for a long while before releasing her. "Tell me where we’re having lunch.”

“In a private suite at my hotel. What would you like to eat?”

“Something that can be eaten cold. Once we arrive, we may not be hungry right away.”

“What is the pilot’s name?”

“T. C. Why?”

“Once I’ve finished persuading him, he’ll fly us to the hotel.”

“I can’t wait to get there.”

Meanwhile, Robin stared fixedly into the flat, cold eyes of the serpent the Siren had set upon him. The reptile had held its head motionless, except for the flicking tongue, for what had seemed like ages. The Titan was totally focused on the beast his vision held at bay.

An angry hiss from Batman’s direction overwhelmed the continuously playing flute music. Robin strained to keep from casting a potentially fatal glance at Batman.

He blinked, then verified that his hissing horror had not moved before peering at his partner from the corner of his eye. The head of Batman’s snake hovered motionless above the Caped Crusader.

“Are you sure?” a female voice said.

The question surprised Robin. He thought his imagination might be playing tricks on him. The voice had been heard over the intermittent hissing of Siren’s sinister serpents and the continuous music of the recorded flute. A movement of Batman’s face had told the Boy Wonder his mentor has also heard the question. Neither dared to search for the speaker, for fear of attracting the fatal strike of the serpents poised above them.

Across the room, Max Chessman’s snipers were assessing their targets through the scopes of their double-barreled Purdey rifles.

“I’ll take the target on the right,” Christie decided.

“Let’s do it,” Tiffany said without enthusiasm.

Both heroes were aware of the gunwomen’s presence and searched for them, moving only their eyes.

Tiffany and Christie took their time aiming at the targets and gently squeezed their triggers.

The sound of the flute music was muted by the thunder of guns as the serpent heads exploded into clouds of meat, blood, scales and venom.

“All right,” Tiffany said. “They’re safe. Now what?”

“Now, we get out of here,” Christie replied. The Dynamic Duo’s ravishing rescuers left them squirming in the Siren’s net.

“Gosh, that was loud,” Robin said.

“What?!” Batman asked. “Those shots were extremely loud!” Both gave up communicating for a time in favor of squirming and writhing in the constrictive net. After a very few minutes, it seemed the knots had tightened as they struggled to free themselves.

Suddenly, Batman froze. “Robin, lie still!” the Caped Crusader ordered slowly.

“What is it, Batman?”

“I may be able to reach a blade to cut us free if you stay motionless and exhale.”

“Right, Batman.” Less than a minute after Robin obeyed, both men could feel the ropes surrounding them loosening.

“Batman?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“Who were those women who rescued us? Why didn’t they stay? And where did they go?”

“I can only begin to answer one of your questions, old chum.” They were both able to wiggle free of their restraints. “Did you notice their accents?”

“Now that you mention it, they did sound unusual. Where were they from? Do you know?”

“I think they were from England.”

“Holy Foreign Exchange! Can we do anything to verify you deduction?”

“Possibly.” As Batman spoke, he dug the slug from the wall where it had buried itself after bursting the snake’s head.

“Hey, the bullet casing is here, too. Can we trace them?”

“With luck, I think we can. To the Batmobile!”

Batgirl and Mrs. Peel were drenched with sweat when they finally emerged from their intended death chamber. Both were breathing heavily as they tossed the heavy axes onto the kindling into which they had reduced the doors.

“Did we make enough noise?” Mrs. Peel asked.

“If anyone heard us, they would have investigated by now,” Batgirl concluded.

“That would have been their bad luck,” Mrs. Peel said darkly. Batgirl turned to her partner and frowned. The Briton returned her gaze levelly. “We’re saving the world, Batgirl. I won’t be going easy on anyone from this point forward.”

“Neither will I, but nobody gets killed.”

“Not even Chessman?”

“Not even Chessman. I think there are people on both sides of the Atlantic looking forward to punishing him.”

Mrs. Peel flashed her a grin. “Agreed. We search the place?”

“Exactly. Let’s go.”

They crossed the outer chamber, found Chessman’s “underground lair” deserted, followed a tunnel to the cellar of the house, and mounted the stairs. The locked door at the top yielded quickly to Batgirl’s touch. They crept from the staircase and flattened themselves against a wall on either side of a door as voices warned them of approaching guards.

“Have you noticed how everything has changed?” one guard asked.

“The boss is getting ready to make some real money. He and his women were having a meeting about it in his office.”

“Are they still there?”

“No, the boss, Tiffany, and Christie left. The other two headed for the stables.”

“Maybe they want something else from that doctor.”

“I know I’ve wanted a piece of his daughter since I laid eyes on her.”

“Easy, man–”

As the men spoke, they passed through the door Batgirl and Mrs. Peel were flanking. The speaker felt himself seized and snapped to the floor by the neck. He lay stunned as the black-haired Brit slammed the heel of her hand viciously into his face and ushered him into oblivion.

The second guard felt a purple boot impact his abdomen and doubled over in pain. The next sensation he experienced was Batgirl’s high heel crashing down on the back of his neck. He fell to the floor with a thud.

Mrs. Peel was tucking a pistol into her waistband as Batgirl rejoined her. “What’s that for?” the younger woman asked.

“These guards are armed, Batgirl. Once they realize we’re alive, they’ll be a lot more careful making their rounds. I will not face an armed man without a comparable chance when I can help it. I know you have your own methods and specialized arsenal, but I’d grab a gun if I were you . . . unless, of course, you can’t shoot.”

“I can shoot,” Batgirl assured her, “but I like to avoid it as much as possible. It keeps my work distinct from the police and prevents accidents.”

“Right. I’m not proposing we proceed like this is the Wild West. We don’t have nearly enough ammo for that. Where to?”

As she finished asking her question, she smiled. Batgirl was slipping a pistol under her belt at the small of her back. “Chessman’s office. I want to figure out what happened in that meeting.”

“Ready?” Mrs. Peel asked. Batgirl nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

They encountered no further resistance on their way to the office.

Mrs. Peel inverted the wastebasket and began to examine its spilled contents piece by piece, returning the refuse to the wastebasket. Batgirl sat down at the desk and switched on the computer.

After a time, Mrs. Peel took a piece of cardboard to the desk and covered it with a piece of paper. Then she selected a pencil. Quickly rubbing the pencil across the paper revealed the writing from the last page of the pad from which the cardboard had come.

“Did you find something?” Batgirl asked.

Mrs. Peel frowned. “Maybe. What is ‘the Batcave’?” she asked.

“Batman’s secret headquarters.”

“Chessman has a plan to find it. Look at this.” The rubbing Mrs. Peel had made revealed “FIND THE BATCAVE” in neat handwriting. “How do you suppose he’ll go about trying to locate it?”

“I don’t know.” Batgirl leaned back and noticed an answering machine. “Maybe there’s a clue here.” She pressed the play button.

“This is Vicki Vale. I’ve missed you, but I suppose we’ve both been very busy since dinner the other night. Anyway, I wondered if you’d like to join me for a helicopter ride this morning. I have to interview the traffic reporter, but they said I could invite a guest to come along. I can promise you’ll enjoy a spectacular view. Oh, and if Gotham City doesn’t impress, you can take me to lunch. Afterwards, who knows?” The voice giggled before the message concluded. “Call me.”

“Would a helicopter ride help Chessman find Batman’s headquarters?” Mrs. Peel asked.

“It might. If Chessman located the Batmobile, he would have found Batman and Robin. Just because nobody else has been able to follow Batman to the Batcave, doesn’t mean–”

“There are ways,” Mrs. Peel said confidently, “believe me. We’ll have to warn them.”

Batgirl agreed and spun the chair toward the window to get to her feet. Then she froze, watching. “Mrs. Peel, we have a more immediate problem.” Batgirl pointed to the scene playing out below as horror transformed the lower half of her face into a cold mask. “Look!”

Camilla and Sarah were dragging the struggling Geistglaubers across the lawn.

“We’d better get down there quickly,” Mrs. Peel decided aloud.

“There’s a window at the far end of the hall,” Batgirl recalled. “Let’s go!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Doctor Geistglauber demanded.

“You can’t do this to us!” Heidi agreed.

Both captives were bound hand and foot and being dragged unceremoniously across the lawn by their arms.

“Both of you had better be quiet,” Camilla warned.

“You are both of us going to kill,” Doctor Geistglauber reasoned out loud. “What have we to lose?”

Sarah’s voice was calm and quiet when she answered. “What hasn’t been decided yet is how you’re to die.”

Heidi became sullen and silent, but Doctor Geistglauber began to struggle more fiercely and shout for help.

“Do we have to listen to him?” Sarah complained.

“Not for much longer,” Camilla answered. “Keep in mind, no matter how loud or long he yells, there is not a living soul anywhere near here who will lift a finger to help them.” She paused and laughed. “Besides, if we let him yell long enough, he might strain a vocal chord or something.”

Doctor Geistglauber fell silent.

“What a delightful thought,” Sarah said. Then she laughed. “I think it would more fun to listen to the girl scream.”

“You two are sick!” Heidi declared.

They reached the banks of the ravine Mrs. Peel had been captured in earlier, balanced the prisoners on the edge and pushed them over.

Their captors were upon the Geistglaubers seconds after their painful fall. Heidi felt herself dragged along the floor of the ravine to a pair of parallel roots, between which Sarah positioned her body. Camilla left Doctor Geistglauber momentarily and helped her partner secure the other captive. As Heidi struggled vainly, her father began to move uncomfortably toward his daughter and her captors.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Leave her alone!”

Once satisfied Heidi was secure, Camilla and Sarah approached Doctor Geistglauber and seized him. They flung him against a maze of roots several yards beyond the captive girl and secured him among them. When they had finished, he was standing helpless, watching his daughter struggle on her back a few short yards away.

“What are you going to do to us now?” Doctor Geistglauber asked.

Both laughed as they made sure the prisoners’ bindings would remain tight.

“We’ll leave you here,” Camilla said.

“That’s right, but before we report your punishment to Mr. Chessman, we’ll give my guard dogs the signal to attack rather than to capture. Then we’ll release them. I’m sure they will take care of you both in short order,” Sarah said, beaming evilly as horror registered on the prisoners’ faces.

“I understand they have all tasted human flesh before,” Camilla said.

“Indeed,” Sarah confirmed. “Once, that happens, they miss it, despite the diet of raw meat we feed them.”

“You’ll be a particularly tasty treat for them, my dear,” Camilla said to Heidi, bending over the helpless girl.

“Don’t worry, Herr Doktor. You’ll have a front row view while they feed,” Sarah added. She gestured at Heidi for emphasis. “They’ll sink their teeth into her quite deeply, I’m sure.”

Geistglauber stared at Chessman’s murderous minions with a mixture of shock and horror in his eyes.

“Obviously, Mr. Chessman feels you should not have written the code to sabotage his plans,” Camilla said.

“Not to worry, Herr Doktor,” Sarah concluded. “Soon after they’ve finished devouring your daughter, the dogs will begin to feast on you.”

“This is insane,” Heidi said.

“I can this happening not believe,” Doctor Geistglauber said. “What is it-- ”

“Don’t you dare beg, father!”

“Heidi, please. These-- ” Heidi Geistglauber had inhaled and he paused to silence her with a dark look. “They are hardly ladies. I do what them to call not know.”

“I have a few suggestions!” Heidi said.

“Whatever they are, I can how they benefit by murdering us not understand,” Doctor Geistglauber said.

Camilla and Sarah laughed. “I’d be happy to explain it to you,” Camilla said. “We were ordered to punish you for trying to thwart Mr. Chessman’s plans.”

“How could I not? Chessman might hundreds with his weapons kill. Perhaps thousands. I could him such mass murder to commit not allow.”

“It’s business, Doctor,” Sarah explained simply. “There is nothing personal about it.”

“Even though we destroyed the disks the code was on, your death will serve to let our other consultants know it is wise to cooperate with us.”

“You destroyed the disks?”

“Both of them,” Sarah confirmed. “Just before we left their couriers to die.”

“Batgirl and Mrs. Peel have died?”

“By now, probably, but don’t worry, Doctor,” Camilla encouraged. “You and your daughter will be joining them soon enough. Goodbye.”

“Aufwiedersehen,” Sarah said, “oder nein, vieleicht.” The two killers took their leave.

“Help!” Heidi Geistglauber cried, thrashing vainly against her bonds. She repeated the cry several times and glanced forlornly at her father as she went on struggling against her bonds. “How will we get out of this?” Heidi asked fearfully.

Doctor Geistglauber paused in his own vain struggles. “I do not know,” he said simply.

Crouched in a thicket on the bank of the ravine, Batgirl switched off the miniature camcorder she had used to film the arrangements for the Geistglauber’s murder. She extracted the tape and, with Mrs. Peel at her side, descended to the floor of the ravine.

“Batgirl, are we glad to see you!” Heidi Geistglauber said.

“Ja voll!” her father agreed enthusiastically.

Far away, they could all hear excited barking. Mrs. Peel moved to Doctor Geistglauber’s position while Batgirl bent over Heidi. The barking was growing closer as rope was cut away from the prisoners’ hands. The captives were far from free when the lead dog from the pack bounded into view, charging across the lawn in the distance toward them.

“Excuse me, Doctor,” Mrs. Peel said calmly. She stepped away from the prisoner and assumed a two handed shooting stance, preparing to take down the lead guard dog.

“Hold it!” Batgirl cried.

“Hold it?” Mrs. Peel asked, without turning her head. “Why?”

Batgirl had already abandoned Heidi and moved a few feet away to a silver box built into the ground. A similar device had saved her life once before. Deftly she popped it open and pushed a button.

Jets of water began to spray, not in the ravine itself, but from sprinklers in the direction of the mansion. The alpha dog bounded through the water, undeterred . . .

. . . until it collapsed, less than a hundred yards from Mrs. Peel.

The other dogs kept coming. “There are a dozen of them,” Heidi said. Her face paled with horror as she realized exactly how her captors had intended her and her father to die.

The sprinklers continued to water the lawn. The drugged liquid had the same effect on the other eleven dogs in the pack as it did upon their leader. Soon, a dozen canines were sleeping peacefully in the midday sun.

"I was pretty sure they wouldn't have bothered to flush out the sprinkler system yet," Batgirl explained.

“I’m quite content to let those sleeping dogs lie,” Mrs. Peel remarked. “How soon do you think it will take Camilla and Sarah to realize what happened?”

“It won’t be long. Let’s wait and see.”

Once the Geistglaubers were free, Batgirl and Mrs. Peel showed them to the thicket from where Batgirl had filmed her evidence. As the heroines began to retreat, Batgirl seized Mrs. Peel’s arm and pointed at a glint of sunlight across the ravine and beyond the bodies of the dogs.

“Looks like they’re armed,” Mrs. Peel murmured.

“They’re coming along either side of the ravine,” Batgirl observed.

“There,” Mrs. Peel said, pointing at a large tree beside the ravine. Batgirl nodded. They approached it together and began to climb.

Camilla fell to the ground as a purple shape swung from the trees on a rope and impacted her chest hard with both feet. Batgirl’s second kick tore the weapon from the gunwoman’s hands.

“I won’t need that to take care of you!” Camilla said, getting to her feet and firing a stunning blow at Batgirl’s head.

As Batgirl and Camilla’s fight began, Sarah stood back and scanned her surroundings for Mrs. Peel, slowly looking along the sights of her rifle. A sound from behind made her spin. She spotted a pistol on the ground and realized it had been a diversion. As she pivoted, she spotted the shadow of something falling toward her from above. Instinctively, she raised the rifle.

Mrs. Peel impacted Sarah as the gun went off. The shot went wild, but the angelic avenger was not able to land on level ground. She felt herself tumbling to the floor of the ravine. Sarah dove at Mrs. Peel as the fallen woman moved to regain her feet. The side of the gun barrel was pressed viciously against Mrs. Peel’s throat as her shoulders were thrust into the bank of the ravine. Mrs. Peel pressed at the weapon with her hands, but Sarah was able to set her feet and take full advantage of her leverage. “You’re dead, Mrs. Peel,” Sarah said confidently, and increased the pressure on her victim’s trachea.

Camilla slid a kick through Batgirl’s defenses and let a smile form as the Delectable Defender bent, breathing heavily. “I hear you don’t often lose, Batgirl,” Camilla gloated. “I think I’ll draw this out a little.” She launched another kick and evaded the heroine’s block to smack the side of Batgirl’s head with her foot. “Does that feel good, Batgirl? Have another.” The Purple Paragon took another kick and reeled toward the bank of the stream.

“You haven’t beaten me yet, Camilla,” Batgirl said through gritted teeth, fending off a kick and absorbing a punch to her shoulder. Batgirl gripped the henchwoman’s retreating wrist and pulled. Camilla’s balance faltered and she felt a gloved fist impact the side of her face.

Camilla grunted and seized Batgirl’s wrist. She slipped a leg in front of Batgirl’s lower legs, pulled on Batgirl’s outstretched arm, and supported her own shoulder with the other hand. Batgirl tumbled to the ground with a groan.

Glancing around her, Batgirl realized Camilla was coming for her and Sarah had the upper hand over Mrs. Peel. Gotham’s Dark Angel’s attention returned to her own opponent as a sinister shadow fell across her prone form.

“Now, you die!” Camilla shouted. She bent over Batgirl and began to pull her to her feet by the front of her cape. Batgirl grinned up at Camilla and placed the bottom of a purple boot on her opponent’s abdomen. The Dark Angel let her shoulders fall back to the ground and sent her opponent flying overhead.

A satisfied smile began to play across Sarah’s face as Mrs. Peel’s eyes closed. Encouraged, the amorous assassin pressed the rifle harder against her victim’s throat. Mrs. Peel did not resist. “Almost,” Sarah said quietly. Once she was certain her intended victim was unconscious and helpless, Sarah reloaded the rifle.

Suddenly, Camilla’s body landed on Sarah from overhead. The assassins fell away in a tangle of arms and legs. Just as they began to pick themselves up, Batgirl leaped on top of them, pinning the rifle between their bodies. Vainly, they struggled. Batgirl kept her weight in place on top of them and wrapped her arms around Camilla’s shoulders, pressing gloved hands against her attacker’s neck. Batgirl and Camilla remained still while Sarah thrashed violently beneath them. Then, Camilla’s body went limp.

Sarah awaited her chance as Batgirl lessened the weight on her and Camilla. The conscious criminal was about to bring her weapon to bear on Batgirl and end the fight for good, when she felt the rifle wrenched from her hands. “What the–”

The sole of a boot slamming into her chin cut the exclamation short. Emma Peel spun toward her to follow up the initial blow and sent Sarah to Dreamland.

“I was worried about you,” Batgirl said, rising to her feet.

“I thought I could lull her into overconfidence by playing possum. That is what you Yanks call it, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Now, what do we do with them?”

“Leave them for the police.”

“What about the dogs?” Mrs. Peel asked. “I assume you don’t want our prisoners eaten.”

“We’ll leave the sprinklers on. It will keep them quiet and get rid of Chessman’s vile chemical.”

Clapping drew the victorious heroines’ attention to the Geistglaubers, who had retrieved the rifles and watched from the bank of the ravine. “There are some fantastically uncomfortable logs over here you could secure them to,” Heidi suggested mischievously.

Batgirl flashed a grin at Heidi and Mrs. Peel before guiding Camilla toward the place Heidi had been bound. Mrs. Peel followed carrying Sarah.

“So, you will Mr. Chessman be pursuing?” Doctor Geistglauber asked.

“Now that we have both of you and since I still have one disk, your safety is our first concern,” Mrs. Peel said. “I’ll see to that.”

“I’ll take care of warning Batman and Robin about Chessman’s plan to locate the Batcave,” Batgirl said.

They secured their prisoners and separated.

On to the second half of this week’s episode

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