The Early Worm Gets the Bird

Ernest Hemingway came barreling down the metal fire escape steps into the back alley, wildly shouting and blindly spraying the dark with bullets from his semi-automatic pistol. All three hundred pounds of his bulk was stopped short six steps from the bottom by Batgirl, who strategically hid under the stairs out of harm’s way, tripping him with a well timed grab for his ankle that sent the behemoth crashing down to cold concrete below.

Batgirl wasted no time checking on the henchman. She knew he was down for the count. She quickly made her way up the steps, descending on another henchman, Charles Dickens. He was half as big as Hemingway, but not nearly as ugly as his counterpart. He barely poked his head through the opened door before Batgirl planted her gloved hand squarely into his nose with a quick judo jab, breaking it.

She was fast, so fast in fact that if Dickens's eyes were adjusted to the dark, all he would have seen was something purple and gold rapidly move toward him before it was lights out.

Batgirl made her way over the fallen foe, through the door and down the hall of the sleazy Grand Transient Hotel.

‘Either I tripped a silent alarm’ Batgirl thought, ‘Or my informant double crossed me.’ She had lost radio contact with Flamebird when the younger of the super heroic pair made her way to the fourth floor, checking on a lead to one of the Bookworm's secret hideouts. The lead was right, but Batgirl didn't anticipate the rapid response to her presence in the form of gunplay or the possibility her partner for the evening would disappear or come to any harm. Batgirl counted herself lucky that she made it down to the alley in a leap from the third floor just in time when the bullets started flying.

She tried to be as quiet as she could in the dimly lit hallway, but there was water damage everywhere. Worn carpeting was saturated with puddles, floorboards creaked like a tired sailing ship at her every step, and walls dripped like sweat from busted pipes within the crumbling recesses.

Batgirl walked to the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner to see the third and, she hoped, last henchman standing guard in front of a white painted door with a sliver of light spilling out from its bottom.

"Bingo," Batgirl whispered to herself and moved back into the dark. If Flamebird was held captive behind that door by the Bookworm, it was likely the only kind of harm she would have come to so far was slight rope burns as she struggled from being bound.

Gotham’s Dark Angel wasted no time and none of her utility belt gadgets to bring the henchman down. An empty champaign bottle laying at her feet from the hotel's last and final New Year's celebration did the trick. Her aim was impeccable as she flung the bottle and hit Jack London square in the chin, bringing him to a spinning tumble against the wall across from where he had been standing. She made her way over the henchman and, with a swift kick to the flimsy door, kicked it inward off its rusting hinges.

"Batgirl!" Flamebird shouted, looking back in the direction of an opened window by a fire escape. "Bookworm's getting away!"

The Dominoed Daredoll made her way to her partner, scarcely noticing that the entire interior of the suite was decorated in densely packed bookshelves.

"Are you all right, Flamebird?" Batgirl asked. Thankfully, the teenager appeared unharmed.

Batgirl's mind flashed back to the contents of the morning's news report of the super-model known as Velda being spirited against her will into an alley by one of Bookworm's henchmen. "Just for fun," as Bookworm was quoted as saying, the super-villain had completely covered her face with a multitude of tiny, but hardly fatal, paper cuts from an old style manila card catalogue card.

"Yes. Hurry!" Flamebird shouted, bouncing up and down in her chair for a quick release.

Batgirl removed a small knife out of her utility belt and began to cut away at the ropes that snugly bound her partner. She then unhooked the police radio off her belt, handed it to Flamebird and commanded, "Call for back up. There's a henchman outside this door, another on the fire escape on this floor, and one out in the alley. They'll all wake up with headaches. And remember, no heroics," she added with a quick smile. "I'm going after Bookworm."

Flamebird nodded her understanding. With that, Batgirl dove out of the window with ballet dancer grace in hot pursuit.

When Batgirl hit bottom she fell into a soft pile of plastic garbage bags as Bookworm began to pull out of the alley in a bookmobile. She regained her footing and dove toward the rear bumper, barely latching on to the door handle and propping one of her legs onto the bumper.

"Whew!" she said aloud. "That was close!" She managed to get a better hand and foot hold, but even this seemed futile. Bookworm must have realized he had an unwanted passenger, for he began to swerve back and forth, trying to throw Batgirl off the vehicle.

"Just a little further..." Batgirl said to herself. The book van would have been easy to follow. It wasn't exactly inconspicuous with Bookworm's distinguishing logo of a grinning green, cartoonish worm with thick rimmed glasses, painted on its side.

Still, Batgirl wasn't taking any chances. She reached into a pouch on her utility belt and produced a small, magnetized tracking device which she slid effortlessly under the van’s bumper.

The bookmobile slowed enough to make a wider than usual turn down another street, clipping an abandoned car along the way. She heard a few more loud bangs and the wailing of an auto alarm, caused by more cars being struck by the van, which was now accelerating at a dangerous pace. This time he was aiming for each and every pothole along the route. The truck made another wide turn down the next cross-street. Batgirl apparently lost her balance, and was violently thrown from her perch onto the hood of a parked car. Batgirl hit the hood in a spinning tumble, head over heels, and landed out of Bookworm's sight curbside.

Batgirl's drop off point was by design. After what seemed to be a long time, perhaps waiting to see the taillights of the bookmobile disappear, or to simply catch her breath, Batgirl calmly rose to her feet, dusted herself off and walked into a nearby alley with hardly a limp, scratch or tear to her costume. Waiting for her there was her Batgirlcycle.

Less than an hour later, every available police and fire unit, not to mention eighty per cent of the members of the Batforce, (Batman, Robin, Batgirl and Flamebird) descended like a plague of locusts on a little used water and power plant, located on Gotham's West River. They had assembled to put out the torched remains of Bookworm's getaway van.

"No bodies, no one's inside!" a lieutenant yelled back to Commissioner Gordon, who, along with the super-heroes, was watching the action at a safe distance.

"Well, I for one am getting a little tired of chasing shadows each night," Flamebird shot out in a rapid-fire delivery, "With twelve other super-villains still on the loose and Bookworm on a rampage...We have to somehow hit these arch-criminals where it hurts, and we have to hit them hard!" adding emphasis to her statement by slamming her fist into the palm of her other hand.

"Flamebird," the Caped Crusader calmly interjected, folding his arms in front of his chest, "You have to remember that we are sworn to uphold the law. We aren't vigilantes.”

"Of course, Batman."

Out of the assembled costumed crimefighters, it was Flamebird who most wanted to bring a swift end to the Bookworm's current crime-wave. Batwoman, while working solo two nights ago, had tracked the erudite villain to an old house.

Once inside, the house collapsed around Batwoman. If not for her training and superb physical condition, she might have been killed. As it happened, Flamebird’s partner was left with bruised ribs, four broken fingers, a mild concussion, and a sprained ankle, rendering her temporarily out of commission.

~~~~~

Flamebird had asked Batgirl earlier in the day at Commissioner Gordon's office to help her get revenge for what was done to Batwoman.

"I don't do revenge," had been Batgirl's first reply.

"Well, if you won't help me, then I'll track Bookworm down on my own," Flamebird had said defiantly.

Batgirl had seen the strain and worry on Flamebird's face. It wasn't the look of a spoiled teenager playing superheroine dress-up, which is what the elder members of the Batforce took Flamebird for at first. This was someone who had had a rude awakening – the realization that her mentor could have become permanently paralyzed or lost her life.

"O.K.," Batgirl reluctantly had answered, then sternly continued, "I'll help you, but you have to do as I say. If you don't, you're fired."

"Agreed," Flamebird had replied.

"Tonight, I'm going to check on a lead. Nothing more. Any kind of deviation and we could wind up in worse shape than Batwoman."

"I understand," Flamebird had nodded.

~~~~~

There were two small explosions from the flaming van, which sent a fire unit scurrying for safety a few feet further back. One of the windows shattered and now thick black smoke began to billow out from the undercarriage, thanks to the tires, which were beginning to melt.

"Commissioner Gordon." Batgirl turned to face her father, fighting the urge to call him, ‘Daddy,’ "There has to be something that we can do to put a dent in Bookworm's reign of crime. After all, I, have a day job and . . .” she added with a wry smile, “Flamebird and I do need our beauty rest."

Just as Batgirl was finishing her ironic declaration, Chief O'Hara quickly approached Commissioner Gordon and whispered something in his ear.

"Are you certain, Chief?"

"Yes," was the only word audible to the super-heroes.

Commissioner Gordon looked gravely at the heroes and said, "It seems that this little light show was a diversion to mask the Bookworm’s real target."

"What do you mean, Commissioner?" Batgirl asked.

"It seems that Bookworm has struck again. This time, at the Gotham Library."

"The downtown branch, Commissioner?" Batgirl worriedly inquired, fearing that her place of employment as Barbara Gordon had been razed.

Commissioner Gordon looked to Chief O'Hara for the answer.

"It was the west branch, Batgirl. The night librarian claims that Bookworm checked out a compendium of the entire works of Edgar Allan Poe."

"Holy Nevermore!" Robin shouted.

"Don't you mean stolen, Chief O'Hara?" Batman asked.

"That's the odd thing, Caped Crusader. Bookworm took the time to browse and then checked out the book. He still has a valid library card, since he’s never failed to return a library book."

"Maybe he’s planning a series of crimes based upon Poe’s works?” Flamebird suggested.

“Or maybe he’s already started!” declared Batgirl. “That collapsing house in which Batwoman was trapped – I read in the newspaper that its last owner was an usher at the old Gotham Orpheum Theater!”

“The Fall of the House of Usher!” deduced Batman.

“And the attack on the super-model – covering her face in blood,” Robin said excitedly, “The Masque of the Red Death!”

Meanwhile, in a dusty corner of a paper warehouse, Bookworm turned another page on his diabolical plans.

"Authors," Bookworm said, addressing his motley crew of henchmen, holding an elegantly bound volume of Edgar Allan Poe's complete works, "What I hold in my hand is the cure to the quintet of Bats that infests this fair metropolis AND the means to untold wealth for us all. First, with the aid of the masterfully crafted tales herein, I shall, once and for all, rid Gotham City of Batman, Robin, Batgirl, Batwoman and Flamebird. Poe's works will serve as the inspiration for achieving clever demises for each member of the Batforce. Unfortunately, Batwoman survived my initial attempt on her life, but that has merely served to re-arrange my plans."

"How you gonna catch the rest of them Bats, Bookworm?"

"Wait and see, William Burroughs, wait and see ... but, for now, we've got some work to do." He opened the book to the index page, paused for a moment and said, "Ah, yes, my henchmen, this tale of terror will do perfectly ...."

Batgirl was so wound up from the evening's events that she knew she couldn't sleep. She decided to cruise the streets on her Batgirlcycle, hoping that the night air would make her tired, but that didn't help, especially since Flamebird had insisted on tagging along to debate the night's revelations. The Goggled Gal rode behind Batgirl on the cycle, holding on to the older woman’s purple hips.

At a couple of stoplights, Batgirl hinted that it was time for Flamebird to hop off, go home and get some rest, but her young partner refused to listen. Finally, they decided to go to the Gotham Police Evidence room to see if any items left at the scene of the crimes committed by Bookworm would herald where he would strike next.

"Not much here," the night clerk told Batgirl and Flamebird as he pulled a cardboard box marked "Bookworm" from an upper shelf in the evidence room's locker.

"That's it?" Flamebird asked as the clerk handed Batgirl the box. Inside were two clear plastic sealed items. One was a page from a trashy romance paperback novel, found among the rubble at Batwoman's near-fatal encounter, the other was the catalogue card used in the attack on the model. The card referenced a how-to book written by one Tim Taylor entitled, Masonry For Dummies.

Batgirl sat for a while reading the report the Caped Crusader had filed of his findings from his Batcomputer analysis.

"After infra-red scans, x-ray analysis, inspection for secret writing and finger print dusting," Batgirl said, "Batman's final analysis is that the clue is inconclusive."

"What about the paperback page?" Flamebird asked.

"The report reads that there's nothing here, either," Batgirl said, while quickly scanning a few rather steamy lines on the page.

"What are we overlooking?" Flamebird asked herself as Batgirl placed both items back into the box. The Girl Wonder glimpsed some barely noticeable, tiny pinholes punched in the card. Then it hit her!

"Hold on a minute!" Flamebird said as she pulled both items out of the box again and placed them on the table. She lined up the card over the paperback's page and saw that some of the letters of the text were visible through the holes punched in the card. One side made no sense, but when she turned the page over and put the letters together . . .

"paPer mILl wArehouse gotham city west rivEr."

"I think you’ve got it!" Batgirl praised, smiling.

Within the hour, Batgirl and Flamebird made their way to the rooftop of a paper mill warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham City. The pair climbed their way to a soot covered skylight to peer inside.

"If we hit pay-dirt with this," Batgirl told Flamebird, "I'm going to ask Batwoman if I could borrow you for more missions."

"That's a deal!" Flamebird said with pride while helping Batgirl scrape years of soot and a maze of angry graffiti off the skylight glass.

Suddenly both of them felt sharp pains in their sides. Batgirl was the first to react and noticed a tranquilizer dart sticking out of her rib-cage. She quickly pulled it out, took two feeble steps and collapsed onto the roof. Flamebird, who was hit in the thigh, never managed to pull out the dart. She collapsed where she stood.

Both super-heroines awoke shortly, Bookworm grinning in their faces. Their minds were still in a cloud from the effects of the tranquilizer.

"... and if you try to move, you will find that you both are bound with tape, rope and chains," Bookworm continued, as both Flamebird and Batgirl woke up and slowly shook the cobwebs out of their heads. "You see, my Bat-lovelies, you cannot escape."

Flamebird, who was now partially awake, tried to say something, but found that she had been gagged. Batgirl, who was under no such restriction, looked around. Naturally, their utility belts were gone. Batgirl noted that she and Flamebird were seated in chairs in the corner of a small storage room, their hands cuffed behind the backs of their respective chairs. From the cracks in the cement floor, she guessed they were in the warehouse’s basement.

Bookworm's henchmen were working feverishly with mortar and cinder blocks, in effect, building a wall in front of Batgirl and Flamebird that was two tiers from being finished.

“You might as well give yourself up, Bookworm,” Batgirl declared. “We know you are basing your crimes on the works of Edgar Allen Poe.”

“Knowing that didn’t help you avoid my trap, did it Batgirl?” Bookworm pointed out. “In fact, that’s why I checked that book out of the library, because I guessed you might need some help to figure out my plot. I wanted to be sure you would have the opportunity to appreciate my genius . . . before you die.

"Imagine," Bookworm continued, "Both of you immortalized as works of literary art from the mind of Poe himself. I'm sure you're familiar with The Cask of Amontillado?"

“We’ll be rescued, I’m sure,” Batgirl declared confidently.

“By whom?” Bookworm asked incredulously. “Batman and Robin are soon going to meet their own Poetic ends. If Batwoman should recover from her injuries, I have an even more interesting fate in store for her . . . and the police, with that buffoon of a Chief and that incompetent Commissioner? they couldn’t find the tenth letter of the alphabet without a dictionary!”

Flamebird slowly, and in a drowsy state, looked over at Batgirl, who was now engaged in using every fiber in her being, trying to break free of her bonds.

"Ha ha ha ha," Bookworm chuckled softly. He looked at Flamebird, then turned his attention back to Batgirl. “Teenagers never have anything interesting to say, anyway. You, however, can scream all you want. Once this wall is finished, this room, or should I say tomb? will be quite soundproof.”

Bookworm smiled. "Perhaps both of you will be found in the half of a century when a wrecking ball hits the side of this building . . . or maybe someone, perhaps a city historian or TV journalist, looking for, let's say, Louie the Lilac's hidden vault, discovers the secret behind the great Batgirl's and Flamebird's disappearances, when they unearth two very dusty skeletons wearing brightly colored costumes!"

With that said, the Bookworm, via a ladder, wiggled out through the soon to be finished last tier of the nearly completed wall. Batgirl and Flamebird heard him call through the hole, "Let us be gone."

Batgirl was used to contemplating her own death, but the prospect of one as young as Flamebird meeting such a grisly fate enraged her. She found herself strangely compelled to yell. “For the love of God, Bookworm!”

“Yes,” he said, “for the love of God!”

The last they saw of Bookworm was his brown leather-gloved hand as he tossed in a flashlight which landed at Flamebird's feet.

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