Each of the executioners in the octet used a slightly different approach to achieve the goal she shared with the others. Lisa and Tara stood on opposite sides of the Dominoed Daredoll’s left arm. The larger woman, Tara, had her two hands on Batgirl’s left wrist, while Lisa’s were higher up the heroine’s forearm.

The pattern was more or less repeated around the Dark Knight Damsel. All eight had set their feet firmly, leaning back as they yanked on their helpless victim’s limbs.

As promised, Debbie and Michelle took extra pleasure in digging their claws through Batgirl’s costume and into her flesh. Batgirl could feel rivulets of blood beginning to flow.

Such loss of blood, though, was inconsequential compared to what was about to happen to her. Batgirl’s tendons were stretched to the snapping point. Her joints creaking and popping could be heard above the heroine's anguished groans and the sounds of the Catwomen's exertions.

“Just a little more!” Vixen urged.

CRACK!

The sound was so loud that, for a moment, Batgirl thought all four of her limbs had become dislocated simultaneously. The pain, however, immediately diminished. Then she noticed the Catwomen weren’t pulling as hard. Batgirl was still firmly in their clutches, but the sudden noise had distracted them from their deadly deed.

Batgirl’s eyes searched the darkness until a slight movement caught her eye. As she watched, a tiny figure, still shrouded in shadow, flowed forward into the flickering light. The figure was yet another woman. She was indeed petite and African-American, moving gracefully closer to the ghoulish exercise her arrival had interrupted. Batgirl’s captors stood, fascinated by this exotic beauty, who had obviously armed herself in order to make her presence known.

The whip Patience had dropped had been expertly cracked directly over the heads of the Catwomen by . . .

. . . Catwoman!

Vixen was the first to find her tongue, although inarticulately. “Catwoman! How – Wha– we thought you were dead!”

The mind of Selina Kyle in Tara Kaat’s body paraded around the circle of Catwomen, holding the whip in one hand while slapping its handle into her other palm. The observant amongst them noticed Selina walked with a slight limp. Her eyes narrowed as she addressed the group.

“While I apprrreciate the trrribute, I am disappointed in your lack of confidence in me. Do you rrreally think I would die so easily?”

“The cops found your bloody boot,” Vixen objected, speaking more distinctly.

“The world believes I was devourrrred by a school of carrrrnivorous catfish,” Catwoman said, indulging in a chuckle. “The world is quite wrong! I brought along a little something to feed those big beauties when I went to steal them. When I jumped into the tank, I let the fish start on their snack while I swam to a valve and pipe the Gotham City Aquarium uses to rrregulate circulation of the water among its attractions to prrrevent stagnation.” Catwoman paused and indulged herself with a laugh. She nodded at Tara. “Cats hate water, but almost nobody else knows Tara swims like an Olympian to keep in shape, so that she looks purr-fectly scrumptious when purr-forming." Tara bowed her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. "I was a little slow opening the valve and had to leave my boots behind. My one leg got a little gnawed rrrepelling the catfish, but the nursing students in the Eta Beta Lotka sorority patched me up and rrrehabilitated me almost to purr-fection.” She put one hand on her hip above the limp leg and flipped the whip over her opposite shoulder with her other hand. Posed thusly, she drank in the stunned reaction of her audience.

There was a period of silence. Finally, Lisa spoke. “Well, Catwoman, it has been about a year. You’ve never stayed underground that long before.”

Selina nodded slightly, as if acknowledging the point without agreeing. Then she stepped between Vixen and Lisa to look down upon the face of her adversary.

A mixture of emotions played across Batgirl’s face: surprise, relief and horror. Composing herself, the heroine recaptured a bit of her customary bravado. “Catwoman, now that you’ve decided to resurface, would you please point out to these ladies that I didn’t kill you?”

Catwoman smiled evilly, then ran her right hand down Batgirl’s left cheek. “While that is true, I’m not sure that’s a rrreason not to let them finish what they’ve started. There’s a certain sensuality to this I find appealing.”

“Oh, can we Catwoman?” Tara asked eagerly.

Selina Kyle looked over the faces of her would-be successors. She could tell there wasn’t unanimous endorsement of Tara’s sentiment. Some of them seemed to have justified Batgirl’s murder as avenging Selina’s death, but now that their idol was alive . . .

‘Besides,’ Catwoman thought, ‘I and I alone, not these imitators, should decide when and how Batgirl dies.'

“I could spare you, Batgirl,” the super villainess purred. “After all, you and I have so much to do together.”

“You’re not my type, Catwoman.”

“Oh, but just now you’re mine, and in such a purr-fectly tenuous position.” Catwoman laughed. “Unfortunately, I have another appointment tonight. Still . . . .”

Batgirl’s eyes widened as she imagined the wheels turning inside Selina Kyle’s pretty head.

‘Purr-haps I can’t have you, but I can still have the rrrevenge I rrrichly deserve. Having been so thoroughly stretched, your limbs should be quite flexible.’

Catwoman’s next words confirmed the accuracy of Batgirl’s impression. “I have my own plans for Batgirl,” the Feline Fiend announced. She straightened, somehow seeming much taller than her height of five feet, four inches; reached into her belt; pulled out a glass tube; and broke it over Batgirl’s nose. Instantly, the Curved Crusader went limp. “You can put her down now.”

The Princess of Plunder’s admirers instantly complied, looking at their mistress expectantly for further instructions.

“Tara, come here,” Selina commanded.

Tara walked Selina’s five foot, eleven inch body over to her own. Catwoman smiled, then curled an index finger, motioning Tara to bend over slightly so she could whisper something into the taller woman’s ear. Moments later, Tara straightened.

“I’ll attend to Batgirl’s fate in due time. Meanwhile, I see no reason not to make her stay purr-ticularly uncomfortable. This is what I want you to do . . ."

Later, well after midnight at Gotham City University, when most coeds were either snug or snuggling in bed, a curvaceous, long-haired blonde climbed through the second story window of her room at the Eta Beta Lotka sorority house.

“Welcome home,” a female voice said.

The blonde whirled, relaxing as she recognized a shapely redhead regarding her from the upper bunk.

The woman who came through the window looked quizzically at the redhead, who was lying on her side, her head resting on one hand and her opposite arm resting beside her on the bed.

“Pussy,” the blonde said, “you scared me.” Her voice betrayed a British accent.

“Sorry,” the redhead apologized, sitting up, shrugging and helplessly spreading her hands. Then, she brightened. “Hey, I like your outfit.”

The blonde was clad from her neck to her knees in a material resembling obsidian that covered her considerable assets as closely as an extra layer of skin. She had accessorized with polished, knee-high boots; a matching belt; and elbow-length, velvet gloves. “Thanks. Isn’t it great? You look pretty good yourself. What’s the occasion?”

Pussy was dressed all in white, in contrast to her roommate. Her scoop-necked, closely-fitting catsuit revealed the movements of individual muscles beneath it and black circles ringing her waist showcased her hips as magnificently as a belt would have. She also wore boots, a bonnet, and a short scarf knotted at her throat.

“You’rrrre going to meet your rrrommate’s boss,” a sultry voice purred from the lower bunk. Pussy’s roommate stared as a petite, African-American woman slid from the shadows of the lower bunk wearing a duller version of the blonde woman’s outfit. A golden necklace hung from the late-night caller’s neck and a matching belt accentuated her shapely hips. The domino mask and a pair of cat ears perched on her head completed her look.

“Catwoman, I . . . I don’t believe it!”

“The one and only, my dear,” Catwoman purred, “in the adorable fur.”

“Everybody said . . . I . . . I thought . . . you . . . died!” the surprised coed said.

“No. I’ve found your sorority sisters useful for many things, in addition to keeping secrets,” Catwoman said, chuckling. Then she went on, “It’s surprising how few people really believe cats have nine lives.”

“It’s great to learn you’re alive, Catwoman,” the girl in black said. “You’re my inspiration and I know you mean a lot to many of the girls here in the house.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is. In fact--”

“Listen carefully. Someday, I will choose my replacement, for when I retire. That day, though, is still a long way off. Catwoman will go on forever, but on her own terrrms. I will not stand for enterprising, potential hench-kittens im-purr-sonating me!”

“Oh! And you think I–”

“Look at yourself,” Pussy said. “Isn’t it obvious?”

”I didn’t know–”

“I was alive,” Catwoman interrupted.

The blonde in black glared at Pussy. “You knew what I was doing, what I was really doing!”

“Certainly,” Pussy said. “I thought Catwoman would be interested, and I was right.”

“Listen, Catwoman. I am so sorry–”

“Shut up! First, if you want to work for me, you will address me as ‘Boss.” Now, we have things about which to talk, but not here. Pussy, be a dear and shoot yourrr rrroommate for me.”

The girl in black turned her attention from Catwoman, noticing the redhead on the top bunk pull a golden pistol from beneath a pillow; aim; and squeeze the trigger, smiling all the while. “My pleasure,” Pussy said.

“You little–”

The golden dart worked almost instantly, dropping the victim to the floor with a thud.

“Bring her,” Catwoman commanded, sliding to her feet and leading the way to the door without looking back.

Two women crouched over the blonde girl as she recovered from her drug-induced unconsciousness. One was Pussy. The other was deeply tanned and wore a very short, leopard-spotted skirt that left most of her thighs visible. Her bare abdomen was also displayed between the skirt and a sheer, black blouse knotted across her upper chest. Knee-high, black boots completed her ensemble.

“Boots?” the black-clad girl drowsily said. She recognized the second girl as another Eta Beta Lotka.

“She’s conscious,” the scantily-dressed girl observed, tossing her head so her brown hair fell behind her shoulders. “And I was hoping I’d get to wake her up. Suzie was sleeping so soundly.”

“That is not my name and you bloody well know it!” Pussy’s victim angrily said. Normally, she kept her emotions well controlled.

“Sue, Suzie, Susan, or,” Pussy paused, thinking, before grinning and going on, “Oh, Susanna! Whatever.”

“Do get to work, girls,” Catwoman said from where she was seated in a golden chair atop a dais. “You may have all night, but I don’t.”

“This is going to be fun,” Pussy said, sliding her hands along “Sue’s” sides. The blonde lay on her stomach atop an enormous, firm pillow decorated with a leopard pattern. She tensed as the redhead’s hands descended beneath her hips and manipulated the belt buckle below, drawing the accessory away from her waist with a slight laugh, and tossing it carelessly away.

“You’re enjoying this!” "Sue" accused.

“We haven’t even gotten started ‘enjoying ourselves’ yet,” Boots said, laughing and leaning forward while Pussy shifted, reaching for her roommate’s wrist. “Just you wait, Susie.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that!”

Boots ignored the blonde’s protest. She stepped over the prone prisoner and knelt, resting her weight on her calves, each of which lay parallel to the blonde’s body. As Boots immobilized her, Pussy retrieved four enormous pins, setting them beside the cushion.

Together, the hench-kittens pulled off and discarded “Sue’s” gloves. They then plunged two of the pins Pussy had brought deep into the pillow above the girl’s head and drew her arms toward them. Moments later, short ropes bound the girl’s wrists tightly and inescapably down. “Sue" nevertheless wrenched vainly at her bonds as the the hench-kittens who had secured her gleefully watched.

Before beginning the next stage of their work, Boots turned around and stole a wicked glance at Pussy, who strutted around the cushion and crouched to tug at “Sue’s” legs, spreading them and stretching them to their maximum.

“Sue” could only look over her shoulder as her socks and boots were drawn away from her feet and tossed aside. Her legs were then tightly tied down. When Boots and Pussy straightened, "Sue" had been utterly immobilized, except for her neck and head.

“I don’t understand what’s happening, Catwoman. I know Pussy prefers girls and I’ve heard Boots is a sadist, but I’m a fan of yours! What’s going on?!” the bound blonde demanded.

“Maybe you should be scared,” Boots sweetly suggested.

"Sue" pulled at her bonds, but could not move. “Maybe you two should be scared of what I’ll do to you once I’m free!”

“Enough!” Catwoman said. “You and I, my dear, are going to have a little chat. Think of it as a job interview.”

“I’ve heard you recruited from this sorority in the past,” the captive said, trying to remain calm and glancing at Catwoman’s assistants, her sorority sisters. “You obviously do, but I don’t understand what’s happening to me. Is this some kind of initiation?”

“Purr-haps. I admire your spirit and initiative, but I think there is more to learn about you . . . much more than a casual glance would reveal. Boots, fetch a pair of claws and strip her.”

“Hey!” the girl on the pillow protested. She tried to rise, but could not. “I know you like girls when you’re in that body,” she said worriedly. She watched as Boots carefully selected a multi-pointed Kitty Claw with each hand. “Catwoman, what are you going to do to me?”

“I won’t touch you,“ Catwoman said, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “In fact, I won’t lay a finger on you. I have help for such mundane chores -- motivated help, I might add. Boots, get busy!”

“It will be my pleasure,” Boots said. She leaned over the blonde captive and slipped a claw into each of the sleeves of the girl’s homemade Catwoman costume. With an abrupt, downward motion, she slit both sleeves’ fabric, exposing the flesh of “Sue’s” arms. The second cut involved two parallel slits along the captive’s spine that branched at her waist, angled across her glutes, and extended all the way along her legs. Once the slit, black fabric had been removed from beneath her, "Sue" wore nothing but a string brazier and thong. Ironically, both matched the pillow to which the young woman had been pinned.

“Magnificent,” Pussy eagerly enthused, licking her lips. “I’ve seen you plenty of times before, but never quite like this.”

“Purr-fect,” Catwoman concurred, catching Pussy’s eye. “Now, we’ll get on with the interview.” The Feline Fiend addressed her captive as Boots retreated, settling down comfortably at her mistress’s feet.

“I’ll need answers to the questions I’ll ask, and you will provide them—via one means or another.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Catwoman. You’re the boss.”

“While that’s a good start, I want to be sure you’re properly motivated to be truthful.”

“You said one way or the other.” The bound blonde strained to look up at Catwoman. She swallowed hard and looked deadly serious as she asked, “Do you mean . . . pleasure or pain?”

“Well, now that you’re ready, I’m sure Pussy will enjoy coaxing the right answers out of you,” the Princess of Plunder purred. “You may begin whenever you like, Pussy.”

“I don't go that way!” the blonde protested.

“Hush, dear,” Catwoman said. “Pussy’ll put on a show I’ll enjoy, if nothing else. Who knows? Purr-haps you’ll learn something about yourself.”

"Sue" swore. “The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me all about your night out, playing dress-up.”

As "Sue" marshaled her thoughts, she curiously watched the curvaceous redhead kneel on the pillow between her spread legs, making herself comfortable. Pussy then slipped on a furry pair of gloves. Slowly, the gloved girl drew the fur along the entire length of the captive’s bare legs, gently and repeatedly stroking the newly-exposed skin.

“You’ll soon agree the stroke of the mink can induce genuine pleasure when used properly,” Pussy purred. “For my tastes, the feeling is even better if the fur is applied to naked flesh.”

“Yes,” the bound beauty conceded. “It feels . . . well . . . really good.”

“Tell us about your night out. You were going to, anyway.” Pussy’s fingers slid upward against the captive’s hamstrings and brushed her inner thighs.

“That feel great!” the blonde said, barely suppressing a satisfied moan. “Okay. This is the truth. Tonight a collection of rare Spanish artifacts was delivered to the library for part of a display. I learned it included a chest of genuine pirate treasure with gold doubloons, pieces of eight, and lots of pretty gemstones. It occurred to me there would be a market for the gemstones. I visited the shipping and receiving area after the guards changed shifts. Since they’re the only measure taken against thieves, and their patrol starts far away from where I knew the gems would be, snatching them was easy. It was, in fact, childishly simple – Pussy, your touch with those gloves is heavenly.”

“What about the rest of the pirate treasure?” Catwoman asked, leaning forward.

“I decided it would be too heavy and hard to get rid of after stealing it. I was only after the gems.”

“You didn’t bring the fruits of your labor back to your room,” Catwoman observed.

“Of course I didn’t,” "Sue" replied. “I’m not stupid. I stashed them in a safe place on my way home.”

Catwoman watched as Pussy’s touch lingered over the captive girl’s backside. Pussy continued, lovingly stroking the small of "Sue’s" back and her sides.

"Good," Catwoman said. The Feline Felon grinned, her eyes glittering hungrily.

The blonde was suddenly unable to keep from moaning. “Tension just melts away. That mink is marvelous.”

Pussy leaned over and let her hair spill forward, brushing against the captive’s shoulder. “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered. “There is so much more I could do for you.” The blonde felt her roommate’s tongue dart out and lick her ear.

“You’re enjoying this as much as I am, aren’t you?” the bound beauty asked.

“Maybe more,” Pussy happily admitted in a husky whisper. “Tying you up was really fun, but I think petting you like this is so much better.” The gloved girl sighed as her hands continued stroking her captive’s bare flesh. “It’s ecstasy.”

“Let’s get back to business, girls,” Catwoman insisted. “Four years ago, an entire, expensive exhibit of artifacts from the Canary Islands was stolen from the Gotham City Natural History Museum the night before the exhibit opened. Security tapes I later purr-loined revealed the thieves, both of them, were dressed like me, the way you were tonight. Now, I want you to tell me where that exhibit is. I deserrrve a cut from that job. I’d also like a word with your partner.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Catwoman! Honestly. I was still in England four years ago.”

“Stop petting her, Pussy.” Catwoman commanded. The hench-kitten obeyed, reluctantly removing her gloves from the girl’s bare shoulders. “Come here!” The redhead stood and strutted over to Catwoman, sitting on the dais and crossing her legs.

“I’d like to believe you,” Catwoman said to her captive. “I’m going to ask my question once more and give you one chance to reconsider your answer. I think you’ve realized I selected my help very carefully.”

“What do you mean?” "Sue" asked.

“Well, if I’m unsatisfied with your response, Boots will find out for certain whether you’re lying.”

“I don’t know anything about that robbery! You can believe me . . . or go sod off!”

“Boots, I’ll need you to change your footwear.”

Boots obediently slipped off her namesakes and slid on a pair of boots Catwoman indicated. Several wicked-looking spikes protruded from each boot sole.

"Sue" stared fearfully at the brown haired hench-kitten’s new attire. “I thought you just implied you might want to hire me.”

“Purr-haps I do,” Catwoman said. “First, however, I must make at least one example of someone foolish enough to commit crimes in my guise without my prior purr-mission. There was way too much of that going on in my absence.”

“I don’t know what to say. We both know there were . . . God only knows how many Copycats committing crimes last year.”

“True,” Catwoman agreed. “You were more successful than most, and just happen to be the one I got my claws on.”

“Lucky you,” Boots said, grinning. Anticipating.

“Of course, you can still avoid being that example.” Catwoman leapt from the chair and lay down right in front of the blonde, their faces barely an inch apart. “Tell me what you know about that robbery!”

“I told you I was in England at the time it was committed,” the girl angrily answered. “I don’t know anything about any artifacts from the Canary Islands!”

“You want me to walk all over her, boss?” Boots eagerly asked.

Catwoman stood. Hands on hips, she looked down at the captive with what was almost regret. “You will ignore her face and not touch a hair on her pretty head. Leave her arms alone as well. The sorority’s nursing students can patch up the rest, but above all, don’t kill her! I want a living example afterwards.”

“Catwoman!” The girl fearfully exclaimed.

“I’m a little sorry to have to make you my example, Soolin. Purr-haps you’ll be an even better hench-kitten after Boots toughens you up.”

“I’m innocent,” Soolin insisted. “Check out my whereabouts. Please. You don’t have to do this.”

“Your lack of continued co-op-purr-ation required a change of tactics. I’ve engaged a woman named Okie Annie to help with your physical rehabilitation. You have a great deal of potential and when she and I have finished with you, you’ll be the purr-fect instrument of violence. Thereafter, when the need arises, you’ll be well-qualified to act as my bodyguard.”

Only because she was a student of Catwoman could Soolin see the twisted logic behind the villainess’ proposed course of action. ‘She’s going to have me stomped – tortured – then she plans to train me to be her bodyguard!'

Soolin once again strained to look at Catwoman. “You won’t mind that I’m going to kill Boots if she goes through with this?”

“I promise that if and when she screws up, her punishment will be your responsibility—in the future, when you work for me.”

“Regardless. She’s dead! Don’t think I’ll forget Pussy ratted on me, either.”

“You’ll make a magnificent enforcer,” Catwoman purred.

“What makes you think after this I’ll ever work for you?”

“I’ll give you your revenge, at the appropriate time. Once you’ve recovered, we’ll talk.”

”Boss?” Pussy asked, worriedly.

“Remaining safe is simplicity itself, Pussy. Don’t screw up! For now, Boots, Soolin is all yours. Come, Pussy. We’ll go play with your gloves.” Catwoman led the way from the room, watching in a mirror as Pussy leered at the sway of her backside. Both women licked their lips.

Soolin listened to the ominous tap of the wicked spikes against the cement floor as Boots approached her. “I don’t have any different answer for you. You’re going to be wasting your time.”

“I don’t care about the answer to Catwoman’s question,” Boots said, chuckling. “In fact, I’m going to shut you up so nobody upstairs is disturbed.” Soolin’s torturer reached for a roll of duct tape and tore off a short length. She carried it to Soolin and bent over the captive. “Your ‘treatment’ is going to hurt, and leave deep marks. I doubt any of the scars I leave will ever go away. I’ve been looking forward to going to work on you all day long . . . in fact, ever since I first met you.”

“You are a sadist!”

“Oh, I am. You’ll be fully convinced in a couple of hours, when I roll you over and start my work again. I’ll give you a chance to reconsider your answer to Catwoman’s question in a little while, if you’re lucky.”

Tape covered Soolin’s mouth before she could respond. A moment later, Boots straightened, stomping deliberately on the blonde's right buttock. As the spikes impaled her, the tape over Soolin’s mouth almost completely muffled her initial, anguished cry.

The next day, at high noon, a unique bundle was dumped out the back of a van onto the sidewalk at the base of the steps of the Gotham City Police Headquarters.

Batgirl’s unceremoniously ungentle arrival at Police Headquarters heralded the end of a lengthy period of continuous, subtle torture. Though a red ball-gag had been stuffed in her mouth to stifle her vain protests, and she remained hog-tied with black felt cuffs and white cord, she was surprisingly unscathed considering her experience. She was completely free shortly thereafter, when an officer discovered her on his way to lunch.

As circulation returned to her cramped, tortured limbs, and the expression of pain that had been continuously etched on her face for hours finally relaxed, she recalled the incidents for which Catwoman held her responsible:

First, Batgirl had similarly packaged Catwoman, minus the gag, for the police after the Feline Felon had targeted the Amber Forever Jewel Company for the second time in her criminal career.

Batgirl had escaped Catwoman’s pet cat, Hecate, after the creature had been enlarged into a monster and unleashed to hunt the Dominoed Daredoll. Unfortunately, the cat had not survived the hunt.

Catwoman had smuggled Batgirl into the Gotham State Penitentiary to torture and murder, intending to repay the heroine for her pet’s demise with considerable interest. Because a mattress had been used to conceal the captive, Batgirl had arranged for the Princess of Plunder to spend the duration of her prison stay on that occasion sleeping on the cold, stone floor.

Finally, Batgirl had turned the tables on Catwoman deep inside the Federal Depository Building, trapping the endowed evildoer in a cage where Catwoman had minutes before left the Caped Crusadress to die. Catwoman had escaped the cage and the humiliation of being discovered in her own trap, but Batgirl was confident the incident had not been forgotten.

Now, Catwoman had nearly evened the score.

Vixen had attended to the binding with cruel delight, positioning Batgirl on her stomach in some sort of psychedelic side chamber, apparently intended to keep the heroine disorientated. Several of the Catwomen had taken turns guarding Batgirl for the duration of her captivity, looking on with demonic delight as the Dark Knight Damsel’s uncomfortable position and the treatment they had given her slowly took their agonizing toll.

Image by Cage

Follow the Criminal Flight Plan

The sun blazed over the Gotham City Zoo as one of the more successful events designed to draw citizens into the cool, autumnal weather proceeded. The throng of animal lovers enjoying the festivities was unaware that crime was about to mar their afternoon fun.

Two throng members charged with preventing such pandemonium spoke quietly together in the shade, as an elephant lifted his trunk.

“Despite criticism, Jim, I’m very proud of my prisoner volunteer program,” Warden Crichton said.

The first major rollout of this particular penologically progressive program of prisoner performed public penitence had resulted in a mass escape when young Ma Legs Parker held up the work crew and escaped with a few of its members. That day the prisoners had tried their hands at roadside beautification and most had been able to run off after the holdup. Today, however, the Warden had made his charges available to police the zoo during its hot air balloon launch.

“Well,” Commissioner Gordon said, “I hope coordinating your program with Chief O’Hara’s people will help with security.”

“I’m sure it will. The work the extra manpower does looks good to the public and doesn’t come at all amiss from a practical standpoint. Also, there are no public roads from which passers-by can distract the prisoners from their labors.”

“It seems you’ve worked some bugs out of the program.”

“I sincerely hope so. Instilling civic pride in my prison workers is important. With persistence, I can help them grow into more service-minded, productive citizens before they complete their sentences. The prisoners who participate are drawn from a pool of volunteers. They also have the opportunity to enjoy the animals and other attractions here at the zoo while they work”

“Is anyone from the Arch Criminal wing here today?”

“I decided to leave the Joker in his cell. The last time he escaped, he injured fellow prisoners as well as prison personnel.”

“So, the Joker isn’t here.”

“Right. Penguin is, though.”

“Is it wise to bring out the Penguin? His partnership with Florence of Arabia was a public relations disaster.”

“Despite my bad experience with Florence, I must remain true to my methods, Commissioner,” the Warden said, shrugging. “My program is for prisoners who volunteer and the Penguin volunteered. Besides, the zoo is an ideal setting for him.”

“Well,” the Commissioner dubiously began, “good luck with your program, Warden. I see my daughter, Barbara, coming this way. I’m glad we had this chance to talk.”

“Don’t worry, Commissioner. This situation with the Penguin is completely under control.”

“Glad to hear it.” The colleagues shook hands and turned toward the newcomer.

Little did the Commissioner and the Warden know at that very moment, the Catwoman stood on a nearby hillside, examining the zoo through binoculars as Boots and Pussy finished setting up an impressive array of specially modified, model rockets. The villainess was about to unleash a sinister salvo that would confirm the rumors of her return to the Gotham City underworld for any skeptics in a most explosive manner.

“Well?” the Feline Fiend demanded, lowering her field glasses.

“Everything is set for launch, boss,” Boots said. “May I ask where you got all these explosives?”

Catwoman frowned and shrugged. “Why not? Last year I rrrrealized the loot I’d gone after years ago at the federal depository building was still waiting to be stolen. Originally, the Joker helped me track down a million pounds of gunpowder that had been hidden in the vicinity of Gotham City for centuries. Last year I paid for information rrrregarding a truck full of munitions I hijacked on its way through town. I didn’t use all of them at the federal depository building and these are part of what rrrremained.”

“So,” Pussy said, “what happens after the launch?”

“You and I will collect the Penguin and Boots will join my counterpart and the others, following and collecting the balloons in which we escape. Now, Kittens, light the fuses. Let’s get this cataclysmic attack started.”

“Have you two seen any of the balloons being prepared for launch?” Barbara Gordon asked as she reached the men talking quietly in the shade. The Warden and the Commissioner shook their heads and grinned sheepishly. The pretty brunette frowned. “Leave your business at the office and look around!” she said, genuinely excited. “I’ve seen several specialty balloons that look like animals. The program talks about an enormous pig, a cow, a moose, a swordfish, and a kangaroo from Australia . . . and those are only the ones about which I’ve read!”

“That’s amazing, Barbara,” the Commissioner said.

“I was hoping I could tear you away from the Warden so we could find them, and look at the rest as well. Of course, if you’d like to join us, Warden, you’re most welcome.”

“Thank you, Ms. Gordon, but I’m afraid I’m here on business today.”

“I read about your program. I sincerely hope it works out,” Barbara said, trying not to sound too serious.

“I’m very hopeful, Ms. Gordon. Thank you. I’d better let you two run along. Have fun.”

Barbara groaned inwardly at the Warden’s expression. She had no plans to run anywhere since Batgirl had nearly had her limbs detached from her torso before having been bound painfully into place behind her back for hours. She was moving slowly, but not so slowly she could not function normally as the Commissioner’s daughter. Despite soaking for several hours in a hot bath, the stiffness in her limbs would prevent Batgirl from performing at the high level to which she had grown accustomed.

Slowly, she drew her father toward the field where several hot air balloons, many having intricate animal shapes that took longer to inflate, were being readied for launch.

“You know, Barbara,” the Commissioner said, “we don’t do this enough.”

“Do what, Daddy?”

“Get out and have fun at events where I don’t have to worry about the unsleeping specter of crime.”

“You sound more and more like Batman every day, Daddy,” Barbara said with a sigh. “You also have a one-track mind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I know you don’t really have the luxury of leaving your job at the office.”

‘Thank you for understanding, Barbara–”

“Hey!” she said, pointing at the sky. “Look at that!”

Catwoman’s rockets flew toward the zoo, trailing a rainbow of colored smoke. As they landed, the smoke went on billowing until the zoo was enveloped in a multi-colored cloud. Each crowd member began to feel his or her balance falter before bending; doubling over; coughing uncontrollably and trying to filter the smoke with hands and handkerchiefs. Soon, everyone’s knees buckled before their bodies settled to the ground and unconsciousness claimed them. The zoo animals were also knocked out.

Presently, Catwoman and Pussy drove through the incapacitated citizens in a greenish gold, electric golf cart, garishly decorated to resemble the Princess of Plunder’s most well-known means of conveyance, the Kitty Car. The vehicle had no doors, but giant whiskers extended beyond the headlights from the center of the front grill; the modified, front fenders’ undersides had been painted pink to resemble cat ears; and a thick tail curled above the passengers.

“It looks like your rockets functioned perfectly, boss,” Pussy said.

“Indeed,” Catwoman agreed. “Stop!”

The golf cart halted beside a prone, blonde woman wearing a white bikini the top of which resembled an inverted heart with the tip bitten off so that her head could emerge from the bottom. The lower portion of her bikini fitted her equally well.

“She’s gorgeous! Who is she?” Pussy said. Suddenly, the hench-kitten realized she might have just made a fatal error, and quickly added, “I hope you don’t mind my noticing, boss.”

“You’re quite rrright, my dear,” Catwoman agreed. “Her name is Undine and she worked for Penguin when I met her. Get her onto the cart and hand me the smelling salts.”

“Boss,” Pussy said seriously, regaining her composure. “I hope I’m not out of line pointing this out, but we can’t take everyone with us.”

“Jealous?”

“A little,” Pussy’s voice had become small.

“Good,” Catwoman said, smiling at her employee. “Undine does intentionally for Penguin what she did to you without trying.”

“So, he won’t be planning to screw you as long as she is around, distracting him?”

“Purr-fectly correct, my pretty pet.”

“The idea of distracting Penguin with an old girlfriend sounds good, but there won’t be room in the balloon for all of us. How will you and I get away?”

“I saw a cat-shaped balloon as well as the one that looks like a penguin we had always planned to use. You’ll have to go over flying the balloon with Undine.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Pussy said, drinking in the sight of the scantily-clad figure before lifting the girl in her arms. “Would it save time for me to tend to Undine near the balloons while you look for Penguin?”

A smile curled the corners of Catwoman’s mouth as she nodded and watched her driver carry Undine toward the balloons.

Catwoman’s search for Penguin did not take long and she was able to drag his body into position in the back of the golf cart, albeit with considerable effort. She bent over him with smelling salts.

She did not have long to wait before the pudgy criminal began to sputter and cough. “Hwah, hwah, hwah! What’s happening?” the Waddling Master of Foul Play demanded.

“Welcome back, Penguin,” Catwoman said. “I hope you’re feeling well after my rrrocket strike.”

“Great quivering icebergs, Catwoman! It worked! Wak!” the wily bird said. “Can you believe we’re about to get so cleanly away and leave the police asleep on guard duty? Wak! Only a criminal genius could have devised such a devastatingly brilliant plan!”

“Don’t get hurt patting yourself on the back so verrrry vigorously, Penguin,” Catwoman warned with a confident, amused chuckle.

The Black Bird of Prey regarded his rescuer icily.

Catwoman ignored him and drove back toward the balloons. Pussy hurried toward them as they stopped. “The balloons are all set,” the white-clad hench-kitten reported, tying two lines to the golf cart. “We can leave as soon as you’re both ready.”

“Capital! We’ll leave at once,” Penguin decided, taking charge. “Follow me.” Penguin climbed from the golf cart and led Catwoman and Pussy toward the balloons. He stopped at the top of a short slope beyond which he could see the basket of the balloon resembling a penguin, where a blonde vision waited.

“Surprise!” the vision said.

“Undine!”

As the Penguin and Undine approached and warmly greeted one another, Catwoman and Pussy climbed aboard the balloon shaped like the head of a cat.

“I don’t mean to ask stupid questions,” Undine apologized as she followed Penguin’s gesture, climbing aboard the penguin-shaped balloon. “but aren’t these balloons a little conspicuous?”

“Not with every possible witness enjoying an unscheduled cat nap,” Catwoman assured her with a laugh.

Undine grinned, helping her most recent employer into the balloon’s basket. “Welcome aboard, Pengy.”

“You're sure you know what you’re doing?” Catwoman asked.

“Pussy brought me up to speed,” Undine replied. “Your kittens will pack up the balloons for us at the landing point?”

“You’re purrr-fectly correct, Undine.” Catwoman turned to Pussy. “Let’s go.” Pussy dropped the ballast away from the balloon basket, causing the craft to rise slowly and its tether to grow rigid. Just before their ascent was halted, a knife flashed in Pussy’s hand.

“Alone at last,” the hench-kitten happily purred as the rope fell away and the balloon bore its pretty passengers slowly into the sky and out of sight. Catwoman was clearly thinking similar thoughts as her arms encircled the henchwoman, drawing her body close. The redhead sighed as she reached up, winding her arms around her mistress’ neck as the couple kissed.

Penguin tore his eyes from the ascending craft and regarded Undine with a warm smile. “What about us?” he asked.

"We’ll be ready to go in just a moment,” Undine said, releasing ballast. “Okay, we’re off.” A knife flashed in her hand and the second tether suddenly slackened, falling Earthward.

“We’ve made a splendid getaway, my dear,” Penguin said. “Wak, wak, wak!” His first cigarette had gone out and as he reached for another, he became aware of his close proximity to his pilot. The tiny basket would never allow them to maintain much distance. “Is it safe to smoke?”

“I was hoping you’d ask to do that, sooner rather than later.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is a full service flight, Pengy. Let it never be said Undine doesn’t understand what is meant by ‘friendly skies.’”

Penguin had realized how very beautiful Undine was the moment he had laid eyes upon her. At that time, they had both been fleeing from the courthouse. Within hours, the nubile, young henchwoman had proven useful as a means of duping the authorities; as muscle when the Distaff Duo had come after him; and as grunt help while they had made arrangements to do away with the heroines. She had whined a little about his smoking cigarettes, but had subsequently given him an exemplary, hands-on demonstration of a different kind of smoking, which she preferred vastly and he had found utterly intoxicating.

She stood before him, very close and leaned forward, pressing her mostly-bare, beautiful body against him, Undine was as lovely as ever. Her hands moved upward along his sides and the cigarette holder fell from his fingers as his arms wound around her waist. “When you mention smoking and use the phrase ‘full service flight–-‘”

The blonde beauty kissed him before he could finish his question. Inexorably, they moved even closer together, merging as the criminal couple sank slowly to the floor of their balloon basket.

Both balloons were out of sight when the sleeping throng of zoo patrons began to awaken. “Are you all right, Barbara?” Commissioner Gordon asked, bending over his daughter as her eyes fluttered open.

“I think so,” she said, sitting up. She was all-too-familiar with the experience. “What happened?”

“Those rockets you saw landed and covered the zoo with knockout gas. It seems to be wearing off. Fortunately, I haven’t noticed any after-effects. I wonder . . . .”

“I feel fine, Daddy,” Barbara said, standing. “It’s probably too early to know why the rockets struck.”

“Commissioner!” Chief O’Hara called, racing toward his superior.

“Perhaps not, Barbara,” the public official said.

Chief O’Hara reached them and recovered his breath before delivering his report. “Penguin and Undine are gone, sir, and two balloons are missing.”

“Is there anything special about the missing balloons?” Commissioner Gordon asked. “What do they look like?”

“They looked like a penguin and the head of a cat.”

“A penguin? Why, that pompous, waddling–-”

"Sure an' I’m worried more about the cat, sir.”

The Commissioner hesitated and began to ask, “Chief, do you suppose—"

“Remember the story Batgirl told us about Catwoman being back? If that she-devil is working with the Penguin–-”

Just then an officer ran up to the Chief and reached toward him holding a digital camera. “We found something, sir,” the man breathlessly said. “Look at this!”

Barbara looked over her father and the Chief’s shoulders as they gazed at a picture of the golf cart Catwoman had ridden into the zoo.

“Assuming Catwoman is behind what happened here,” Barbara said, “she isn’t doing much to avoid suspicion.”

“Begorra! She’s telling us it’s her, and daring us to stop her from doing . . . whatever it is she plans to do.”

“We’ve been given the plainest warning!” the Commissioner agreed. “We’ll have our hands full combating this cunning, criminal combination. There can be no question about it whatsoever!”

“Daddy,” Barbara said gently, “I think you know what I saw. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get out of your way.”

“That should be fine, Barbara, but I thought you wanted to see the balloons launch?”

“Well, it’s supposed to storm tonight. I’m afraid the balloonists will call it off by the time your investigation is complete.”

“All right, pumpkin. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry. I had a great time while it lasted.”

“Ms. Gordon,“ Chief O’Hara said. Barbara glanced at him and noted the serious look with which he regarded her. “Don’t leave town.” His face broke into a wide grin.

Barbara laughed. “I won’t, Chief. Good luck with your investigation. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thank you.” He was smiling.

Commissioner Gordon waved goodbye to Barbara and returned his attention to Chief O’Hara. “I want choppers blanketing the airspace around the zoo. The balloons can’t go that fast and are at the mercy of the winds. If we hurry, we can get the supercriminals back in jail before we have to call in our masked friends.”

“I’ll see to it at once!” Chief O’Hara briskly said.

Barbara Gordon hurried to her apartment and wiggled her computer’s mouse, clearing the screen-saver. She checked the speed and direction of the winds before pulling up a map of Gotham City and zooming in on the zoo.

“Okay, Charlie,” Barbara said to her pet bird. “Penguin and Catwoman are headed for the sea, the way the wind is blowing. The question is, where will the balloons land?” She cropped the city off of her map and studied the topography. “Wow! The only large, flat area in the right direction that offers access by road is the campus of Gotham City University.”

Barbara’s mind was light years ahead of her actions as she closed her program and spun the bedroom wall to give her access to Batgirl’s small, but functional, base of operations. As the lovely librarian underwent her tantalizing transformation, her one-sided conversation with Charlie continued. “Now that she’s re-surfaced, Catwoman won’t waste any time. She’s behind Penguin’s escape, but Vixen and the other Catwomen were working independently. Therefore, they aren’t likely to be involved with any plans with which Penguin is helping. Nevertheless, Catwoman will keep them in reserve to help, if she’s engineering a double-cross.” The purple-clad cutie massaged her shoulder, recalling her treatment in the Catwomen’s hands. “Of course, together they’re more than formidable enough to keep Penguin from double-crossing Catwoman. She’s smart all right.”

Barbara looked at herself in the mirror before placing Batgirl’s cowl on her head. “Now, both villains were at the auction for the Onyx Osprey at the Eta Beta Lotka sorority house two years ago on the Gotham City University campus. Catwoman has hidden there in the past on her own and the sorority offers her resources. In fact, after the Catwomen stopped pulling me apart, Catwoman told all of us she had been there rehabilitating her injuries. Last year, she recruited ten female bodyguards when she worked with Riddler. I’ll bet they came from that sorority and that Catwoman has recruited herself a gang of pretty, student bodies to help her ‘celebrate’ her glorious return to the underworld with Penguin.”

Satisfied with her appearance, the costumed crime fighter moved toward the hatch leading to the freight elevator in which she kept the Batgirlcycle. “Since the Eta Beta Lotka sisterhood seems like such a good starting point and the balloons are headed in that direction anyway, I think I’ll just pay them an unscheduled call—as Batgirl!”

At that very moment, in the main room of the sorority house, the Penguin, Undine, and Pussy awaited the outcome of an unholy procedure to which Catwoman began attending immediately upon their arrival.

Behind a closed door, the suntanned, well-toned body of the original Catwoman sat in a chair as her African-American counterpart fitted a cloth cap in place over her skull. Selina Kyle, the Catwoman, had occupied Tara Kaat’s body since the original Feline Fatale had engineered her escape from prison with a number of cleverly placed forgeries. Selina and Tara had traded bodies to enable Selina to carry out her plans while the forger toured the Spanish Main in the company of the blonde Amazon who had become Tara.

Selina slipped a second cloth cap on her own head before setting a device the size of an electronic organizer between herself and her counterpart. “Ready?” she asked.

“Do it,” the Amazon said, taking a deep breath.

“Here we go again, Tara,” Selina said, double-checking the contacts to the subjects’ skulls and throwing the switch, relaxing as the familiar sensation of mind transfer enveloped her.

“My, don’t you look scrumptious?” Tara Kaat asked, eying her companion appraisingly.

“You know I’m not your type, Tara,” the original Catwoman said, removing her cloth cap and reaching for the cat ears and domino mask that would complete her look. “Thank you for the compliment, though. You’ll take care of the machine?”

“Of course,” Tara Kaat replied. “Give me a minute and we’ll wow our audience.”

Tara winced as she got up and took a step. “Hmm. The injury you received as a result of your swim with the fishes was a bit more serious than you led me to believe.” Tara rubbed her limp leg.

“Sorry about that,” Selina said sincerely.

The singer eyed Catwoman carefully. “Perhaps I’m entitled to a little . . . compensation.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Do you need Pussy?”

Selina thought for a moment. “I’ll keep her. Mightn’t you be able to find another friend in that special sisterhood of yours?”

“Possibly, but I had to ask. I really like Pussy.”

Catwoman hesitated. She owed Tara a lot, but Selina Kyle was the one in charge. “You’re okay leaving her with me?”

“Of course,” Tara hurriedly said. The benefits of getting to occupy Selina Kyle’s body from time to time outweighed a little pain. Besides, she was already getting used to it. “I’m ready.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

The Penguin glanced appreciatively at the newcomers as cigarette smoke drifted slowly toward the ceiling. “So,” he tranquilly began, “I trust your latest body swap went as flawlessly as our escape. Wak, wak, wak!”

“You’re looking like your old self again, too, Penguin,” the tall, blonde Catwoman said.

“Well, I couldn’t justify wearing my tuxedo to the zoo to do manual labor, despite our plans,” Penguin explained. “Fortunately, I kept my accessories and the girls at this house have found me a tux that fits perfectly. Please accept my compliments, Pussy.”

“We just had our formal and some of our dates–-”

“Spare us the details, Pussy,” Catwoman commanded. “Penguin really doesn’t care. Trust me.”

“Wak! Tell me, Catwoman. How do you remember who you really are when you do all that body switching?”

“Catwoman will go on forever, Penguin. I have the technology,” the Feline Felon purred. ”The key is keeping my alternate-body donors happy. Hence, we all talk and do favors for one another.”

As if on cue, Tara said, “I can’t thank you enough, Selina.” She continued speaking and her voice took on a dreamy quality as she drank in the sight of Pussy. “The Spanish Main, not to mention Quill-Pen Quertch–-”

Penguin gagged at the mention of the name.

Tara went on, ignoring the interruption, “–- was heavenly.”

“That was just the beginning," Selina said. "I had a few of the girls arrange for an opening in that show you were in before our select sorority’s last meeting.”

“You got me a job already?”

“Of course,” Catwoman purred “Is there a better way to keep the authorities utterly purr-plexed when I return from the dead in my old body?”

“Having Tara return to legitimate work is a nice touch,” Penguin complimented. “It’s really almost worthy of me.”

Catwoman considered making a catty remark, but said simply, “Thank you. Now, have my kittens finished packing up our transportation?” Catwoman asked.

“I understand they’ll drop off our balloons at the abandoned Globe Balloon Company and return shortly. Wak!”

“Purr-fect,” Catwoman said.

“Help me understand why you had the balloons dropped off there.”

“It’s purr-fectly simple, Pengy. They won’t look at all out of place and if they’re discovered, the forces of law will go skidding in the wrong direction.”

“I thought misdirection was one reason you broke me out,” Penguin said. He snapped his fingers. “Wak! I’ve got it! As I recall, the Puzzler used the abandoned Globe Balloon Company as a hideout when he went after the multi-monopoly holding multi-billionaire Artemis Knab’s private airplane, the Retsoor.”

“Why pick on the Puzzler, boss?” Pussy asked.

“Why not? He’s practically retired, anyway . . . and all those Shakespeare quotes!”

“Indeed,” agreed Penguin, “and get him and the Bookworm in the same room!” The listeners were left to imagine the resultant aural onslaught.

A dreamy, far-away look came into Catwoman’s eyes. “I’ll admit, finishing our cat and mouse game with Playgirl would have been purr-fect, but she was promptly returned to prison after breaking out last Christmas. She can rot inside as far as I’m concerned.”

“Well, Catwoman,” Tara Kaat said. “I’d better get going to play my part in your plan. Thanks again–for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Have fun. Pussy, help Tara with her things and keep watch for the others.”

Outside, when the moment came, Tara Kaat and Pussy hugged, exchanging a significant look as they tightly held one another. Then, the African-American singer took her leave and Pussy looked longingly after her.

Meanwhile, Catwoman stretched out decoratively on a couch. “So, Penguin, are you interested in participating in my purr-ticularly profitable plan?”

Penguin waddled back and forth, puffing furiously on his cigarette while he talked. “Well, I’ve arranged to make a few discreet inquiries, but I think the plan, while ambitious, will work. Wak! I’m a little surprised, though, you’re willing to work for a commission.”

“The client paid most of my fee up front. Besides, there’s more available on this job than the client imagines.”

“Wak, wak, wak! Indeed there is, Catwoman. It takes imaginative people to see the potential of such a plot, and ambitious people to take advantage of such opportunities, so its potential is fully realized.”

“Indeed, Pengy. It will be gratifying to work with someone who sees the big picture.”

“I’ll throw in my hat after you tell me why you want me involved, if, and only if, I like your reason.”

“All right,” Catwoman said. “I’ll tell you. You’ve held Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne’s butler, and Barbara Gordon hostage. Five years ago, you kept Doctor Syun-Ichi Akasofu and his granddaughter, Jenny, as prisoners for several months. More recently, you helped Florence of Arabia kidnap members of the Gotham City Decency League, who had put her belly-dancing nightclub out of business.”

“I’m also a mere criminal genius,” Penguin said, “but I know my resume, and yours. Now, why do you want my help?”

“Well, my plan requires borrowing a certain Bessarovian official for awhile. Your experience would make you the purr-fect partner. Besides, Pengy, despite our disagreement over the Onyx Osprey, we did work well together on that occasion, as well as others.”

“Listen,” Undine said, “if you two are going to talk business, I’m going to make myself scarce. I’m grateful for my freedom, but I don’t want to learn too much about a job I won’t even be doing. Unless, of course, there is something you’d like me to do, Pengy . . . something business related?”

“Hire some finks. Wak! We’ll need them whether or not I chose to work with Catwoman. Have them report to the address I gave you. I’ll join you there,“ Penguin said. “Undine, working with you once again is a profound pleasure.”

“Thank you, Pengy,” Undine said, grinning. “I’m looking forward to spending more time with you. In fact, I’m waiting with breathless anticipation already.” She sashayed across the room and glanced back over her shoulder before stepping out of sight.

“Quite a purr-formance,” Catwoman remarked, sounding bored.

“Wak! Wasn’t it, though?” Penguin agreed, sinking onto a stool. “Her entrances are good, too.”

“Sometimes, Pengy, you’re absolutely pathetic!”

Penguin whirled toward Catwoman. “Wak, wak, wak! What did you say?” He began to rise.

“Sit, Pengy,” Catwoman commanded, rising to her feet and stepping toward him. She towered over the man. In her original body, the Princess of Plunder was more than half a foot taller than the Penguin. “Listen. You don’t need her. We have each other.”

“Are you coming on to me, Catwoman?” Penguin eagerly asked. The beautiful blackguard circled behind him and leaned against him, resting her hands on his shoulders as her fingers began gently kneading his muscles. “Wak! This isn’t like you. On the other hand, who cares?”

Penguin felt her hot breath sear his neck. “Tell me, Pengy. Who were the real players in United Underworld?” Her voice had seemed to take on a particularly seductive quality.

“The Riddler, the Joker, you and me,” Penguin said dreamily.

“Really?” Catwoaman softly asked. Her voice was so hypnotic, yet still betrayed her amusement.

“Wait. Wak! I was in overall charge of the operation, but we were executing your plan. Riddler and Joker offered resources, but we could have easily done without them.”

“Your memory of that affair is utterly purr-fect, Pengy,” Catwoman purred.

“Why do you use the word ‘affair?’”

Catwoman’s soft lips brushed his ear. “Why not?” she whispered.

“Wak! Indeed!” the Penguin said. “You don’t need me for a simple kidnapping though, despite my unparalleled expertise. Wak!”

“You’re very purr-ceptive. Once we have the Bessarovian official, I’ll need to both interrogate and purr-suade him to do as I say. While I could attend to these unpleasant chores using hard or soft techniques, I know you are purr-fectly comfortable using much more subtle methods. Your work would be quicker, more effective and harder to detect.”

“Wak, wak, wak! Keep talking! Your vocabulary and word power are amazing.”

“I want your renowned expertise in obtaining the official's contribution to my devilishly clever design. I know you will achieve those ends purr-fectly and without resistance. So, I’m now purr-fectly willing to purr-suade you if I can. This plan offers so many rewards.”

Penguin knew his potential partner in crime was playing with him, but didn’t mind at all. “How big a fish will this official you want to snatch be?” he asked.

“Big enough to give us access to the corridors of power in Bessarovia.”

“Do you intend for Bessarovia to maintain its relationship with the United States?”

“I don’t see any purr-ticular reason to sever those ties. Why? Do you care?” Catwoman was aware her question, despite its playful delivery, might shatter the spell she had carefully woven. She shrugged mentally. ‘It doesn’t matter. If Penguin doesn’t want to help me, he’ll simply refuse. There’s no point in trying to force him. Besides, Penguin already said he saw potential in my plan. I bet he’ll play along.’

“We may be super-criminals, Catwoman,” Penguin was saying. “We are, however, American super-criminals and I am a former candidate for public office.”

“So you’ve said in the past, “ Catwoman said, becoming suddenly bored. “Your patriotism is admirable, I suppose.”

“Wak, wak, wak! All right. This could be a better deal than either of us has imagined! I’ll do it! I’m all yours, Catwoman.”

“Splendid,” she said happily, her voice soft once again. “You’ve made a good decision, Pengy. With you along for the ride, all my plans will be purr-formed purr-fectly, like your escape. This caper will be cat’s play!”

“The authorities believe a takeover of the country would require three super villains.”

“They also feel two would be needed to take over Gotham City,” Catwoman pointed out. “Look what Egghead did last year.”

“Wak! Indeed. Bessarovia is a small country. Together, we’ll be able to run it easily.”

Catwoman squeezed him encouragingly as she went on holding him. Smoke drifted toward the ceiling as she let her head sink onto his shoulder. Happily, he closed his eyes. Both had been tense when Catwoman had come to him. Now, she folded the Penguin into her arms. Both were well aware of the tension draining slowly from their bodies and the silence.

“Pengy,” Catwoman said.

“Yes,” he replied expectantly. Eagerly.

“Since you’ve checked out the client, I’d like you to convey the good news that I’m purr-fectly prepared to get started.”

“Very well,” Penguin answered, setting his cigarette holder aside and turning his head toward his new partner. “Is there anything else?”

“One final detail,” Catwoman said. “I need you to provide us a base of operations. I have a police lieutenant with a vendetta against me who has all of my known hideouts searched regularly any time she hears I’m on the loose.”

“Wak! You must be referring to that media darling, Lieutenant Diana Mooney. She infiltrated your gang and was trapped in a maze for her trouble after she gave herself away. I understand you’ve trapped her, tried to kill her, and tortured her since then.” Penguin smirked. “It sounds like she may have good reason to be upset with you.”

“Purr-haps,” Catwoman dismissively said. “You’re right. I caught my traitorous cat-servant, Catarina, and punished her. She’s been promoted and foolishly come after me on more than one occasion. Let’s set the record straight. I’ve successfully used her as bait for Batgirl and had her name dropped while slipping through her tightly closing fingers.” Catwoman laughed. “I can deal with her if I must, and, someday, I’ll rid myself of her infernal interference forever! For now, however, I’d prefer to avoid her obvious and clumsy attempts to catch me. After all, your . . . departure from captivity . . . as well as my return from the dead will be well known by now and we have much more important priorities.”

“Bessarovia?” Penguin inquired.

“Precisely,” Catwoman dreamily said, grinning as her eyes glittered. “Once Bessarovia is ours, the entire world will be within our reach. We’ll have but to close our fingers and take it.”

“You’re thinking big, Catwoman. I like the scope of your plans, as well as how you describe them. You have quite a way with words. Wak, wak, wak!”

Suddenly, before Catwoman could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps and a closing door heralded the arrival of Catwoman’s half dozen hench-kittens.

“Mission accomplished,“ Purdy, the black-haired, lead hench-kitten, reported, entering and bending to pull a bottle of water from a small refrigerator being used as an end table. Comfortable, black jeans encased her lower body and a sweat soaked t-shirt was molded to the rest of her ripe figure. “Sorry to interrupt, boss. If you two want to be alone, there are rooms upstairs. I should warn you, though, we just spotted Batgirl on campus, cruising this way.”

“Drat! I didn’t expect anyone to catch up with us this quickly!” Catwoman fumed, releasing Penguin and standing. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“No problem. There are tunnels running under every inch of the campus. If we make our exit using them, nobody will be able to follow us,” Purdy confidently said, taking a long swig of her water. “We have a hidden door to the tunnel system downstairs.”

“Right!” Penguin said. “We’ll leave through these tunnels and make our way to the furnished mansion I rented under my seldom-used alias, P. N. Gwynne years ago. It’s perched on an easily defensible cliff and will be ideal for our purposes. We’ll finalize the details for the first step in Catwoman’s startlingly sensational scheme there. Wak, wak, wak! Come.”

“Hey! Aren’t we passing up a golden opportunity to eliminate Batgirl?” Whiskers, a petite blonde dressed in a red halter-top and denim cut-off shorts, asked, folding her arms over her perky breasts. “We saw Batgirl coming, but she didn’t see us.”

“It would be my profound pleasure to prepare an uncomfortable reception for her,” A taller, blonde girl remarked, moving with practiced grace as she passed out more bottled water. Her sensual body was sheathed in a black lycra leotard and her limbs glistened with sweat. The girl’s adopted name was Mittens.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Tabitha, a brown-haired, brown-eyed ex-stripper whose still well-proportioned body was displayed in tight black shorts and a leopard patterned halter top that barely contained the swell of her breasts, said.

“She found us much too quickly, kittens,” Catwoman declared. “Never fear. I haven’t forgotten Batgirl is purr-sonally responsible for your respective arrests.”

“Incapacitating her should be a snap,” Pussy objected. “The security measures we’ve installed in this house could render her utterly helpless in dozens of ways.”

“We wouldn’t have to finish her off here either, though we could,” Boots pointed out.. “Personally, I think we should haul her helpless butt to the top of the Ivory Tower, the administration building, and see how well Batgirls fly. I’m sure her journey earthward would be quite short, and the landing would be sudden and messy. Arranging her tragic, parabolic trajectory should prove to be one of a criminal life’s simpler pleasures.”

“What a marvelously murderous minx,” Penguin remarked. “Wak, wak, wak!”

Catwoman frowned, recalling how she had arranged a similar flight for Batman and Robin from a twelfth-floor window at the Gotham City Natural History Museum. They had survived their direct flight to the pavement below and their preparedness at that time still annoyed the villainess. She deliberately avoided recalling details of the abortive flight she had arranged for Batgirl and her friend Lieutenant Diana Mooney from a trebuchet, which Catwoman preferred to regard as a catapult.

Penguin, too, recalled how he had arranged to launch Batman and all of his allies as human torpedoes and how the Caped Crusader had gone on to thwart the watery demise the Waddling Master of Fowl Play had arranged. Penguin shunted his bad memories aside, bringing his mind back to the present. “Such evil enthusiasm! Wak, wak, wak!” he went on. “Listen, ladies. Catwoman is right. The pleasure of disposing of Batgirl once and for all would best be deferred just now . . . however, don’t imagine a scheme to engineer her everlasting end is ever far from my mind. In fact, I’ve just had an ingenious idea that may be employed against her immediately following tonight’s devious deeds. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Purr-fect, Penguin. We’ll make our way through the tunnels to the prettily perched palace you’ve so helpfully procured. Then, once we’ve gone over our plans for tonight, we’ll discuss Batgirl’s upcoming funeral. Now, come! Let’s shake a paw!” Catwoman led her evil entourage down to the cellars, through the sorority’s secret door, into the tunnels, and away from the sorority house. As they made their escape, everyone laughed delightedly.

Moments later, Batgirl parked and carefully inspected the sorority house. Though the front door was locked, she did not need the tool on her belt that easily would have enabled her to enter. The open window a short step from the front porch offered easy ingress. Batgirl was surprised her initial search of the house found no evidence of criminal activity or residents, except for the occupants of a fish tank. Even the evidence of Soolin’s torture had been eradicated.

“Maybe everyone is in class,” Batgirl muttered skeptically. “This place smells like an ash tray,” she complained more loudly. The fish did not respond. As Batgirl stood with her hands on her hips, she slowly became aware of another faint odor and sniffed to confirm the conclusions her subconscious mind was forming. She went on thinking aloud, “Cat Lily perfume—Catwoman’s brand! Wait! One of Catwoman’s brands! Which of the many available bodies is Selina Kyle occupying now?”

Batgirl paced the length of the room and turned, pausing and detecting yet another odor. “It’s Ode’ de Chat, another of Catwoman’s brands of perfume. Sometimes it’s poisonous, but apparently not this time.” Batgirl shrugged. “Anyway, I was right! She was definitely here!” The Curved Crusader walked the length of the room again, turning and pacing until a realization struck that literally stopped the heroine in her tracks.

‘Wow!’ she thought. ‘More than one of her was here! She may be in a new body, or an old one, but I’ll bet she changed bodies here.’

Batgirl resumed pacing as she considered other questions. “What brand of cigarette was smoked here?” she wondered aloud. “Cigarette smoke is the Penguin’s hallmark.” Batgirl sniffed again and snapped her fingers, recognizing the tobacco’s odor. “Antarctic Blends, imported and smoked exclusively by the Penguin!”

Excitedly, Batgirl’s mind put the puzzle pieces together. ‘Penguin and Catwoman are working together. That’s why she broke him out of jail!’

Batgirl’s pacing continued as she pondered the criminals’ potential plots. Suddenly, she stopped, staring at a campus events calendar with a circle around one event. ‘The Bessarovian Deputy Undersecretary of International Affairs is speaking on campus tonight. I have a hunch I should take in his lecture, but first I have some stops to make.’

After a visit to her friend Professor Xavier, a chemist and forensics expert, and a brief call at Police Headquarters where she reported to Sergeant Goldberg what she knew, Batgirl reversed her tantalizing transformation and spent the afternoon working at the library. Later, that evening, Batgirl drove to the lecture hall, pursuing her strange hunch as storm clouds gathered.

Meanwhile, on campus, a terrifying two-pronged attack was being prepared. The Penguin, Undine and a trio of newly hired finks, Seahawk; Raven; and Falcon, whose names appeared on their black turtlenecks in white, block letters, watched the campus security team preparing the lecture hall where their intended victim would speak.

“We’ll take care of them whenever you say, Penguin,” Seahawk said.

“You’ll replace them, my fine fiendish finks, but not before the time is right! Wak!”

“How are we gonna know when the time is right, boss?” Falcon asked.

Penguin removed his top hat, handing it to Undine. Then he put on a headset and began to adjust a knob on its side. “This apparatus will allow us to monitor the security arrangements. Wak! I have the correct frequency. Undine will put this on and listen in as those men do their jobs. Until they announce they are ready to admit the public, you finks will do nothing. When the room is ready, and only when the room is ready, you will incapacitate the guards, let me into the room, and see that it is sealed. Understand?”

“The boys and I will take care of the room for you, Pengy, ” Undine replied, exchanging Penguin’s hat for the headset. “No problem.”

“There better not be! Wak, wak, wak! Now, once the public begins to arrive, you know what to do?”

“Be nice to them,” Raven said, making a face. “Let them into the hall and take their seats, but discourage them from leaving. Hey! Will they have money we can take?”

“They’re college students, you mope!” Penguin said, conking him on the head with his umbrella. “They’ll have beer money, which appropriately is peanuts compared to what we’re really after. Leave their money alone!”

As Penguin plotted to take control of the lecture hall, Catwoman and her sextet of sexy sycophants crept into the building’s basement. “You all know what to do,” Catwoman said. “So, go do it.”

As their mistress kept watch, the hench-kittens hurried away, reaching up and tightening valves on the water pipes, as they moved into position to attend to their criminal chores. Purdy helped Tabitha drain a measured amount of water from a particular tank as Mittens quietly drilled four holes into the top of it. Whiskers handed tanks of another liquid to the taller blonde, who inverted one tank over each of her holes. When Purdy and Tabitha’s work was done, they all stepped to the largest tank and nodded. Each hench-kitten sealed the gap between her small tank’s nozzle and the opening Mittens had made before introducing the contents of her inverted tank into the lecture hall’s water supply.

“Gravity will do the rest of the work while we wait for the proper moment for Penguin to strike,” Catwoman commented after Mittens had reported the hench-kittens’ progress. “Now, we’re certain we’ve isolated the water on reserve for emergencies?”

“Everything was clearly labeled,” Purdy said with a delighted chuckle.

“Purr-fect.” Catwoman led her minions to where Mittens had taken over the watch. “What’s keeping the others?”

Pussy and Boots came into view just then. “The net is spread according to your instructions, boss,” Pussy said.

“As soon as our victim is in position, we’ll drop him into our trap and literally wrap up the job,” Boots said, laughing.

“Purr-fect, kittens. It won’t be long now,” Catwoman said. “Meanwhile, we wait.”

The kittenish criminals retreated to a hiding place where the Penguin met them. It wasn’t long before footsteps indicated the audience had been admitted. A few minutes later, Penguin took a cell phone call.

“The room is sealed, boss. We tied up the real security and stowed them in the cloakroom,” Undine reported.

“Wak! Good work, Undine. Convey my compliments to the finks! It’s time for Catwoman’s people to go to work,” the Black Bird of Prey said, lighting a cigarette. “In a moment, we’ll be prepared to take in the show from a comfortable perch.”

“All right, kittens!” Catwoman said. “You heard the man.” Purdy, Pussy, Boots, Mittens, Whiskers, and Tabitha prowled away to their position below the stage.

“Catwoman,” the Penguin gallantly addressed his criminal companion, “would you be so kind as to accompany me to the lecture hall?”

“It would be my profound pleasure, Penguin.” He offered his arm and she took it. The black-clad blackguards were presently admitted by Falcon and made their way to parallel ladders in the back, which they immediately began to ascend.

Lightning flashed on the horizon as Batgirl Bat-climbed the side of the lecture hall and crept over the roof to a conveniently positioned skylight. She circumvented the alarms on the horizontal window and carefully moved along the beams of the metal structure supporting the ceiling until she was positioned above the stage. She settled in to watch the proceedings far below.

At first, all seemed normal. A professor stepped to the podium and introduced the Bessarovian Deputy Undersecretary of International Affairs. As the audience stood, applauding, Vladimir Pavel Chekov made his way to the podium and the professor stepped back to accommodate him. The moment the men passed one another, a trapdoor in the stage opened and the professor fell into space. Deputy Undersecretary Chekov was enough of a politician and showman to pretend not to notice and continue toward the podium. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It is my great pleasure to address you here in America at Gotham City University tonight,” he began.

Batgirl’s attention had been drawn from the speaker the moment the trapdoor opened. She began by fastening a Batrope to a girder beside her and was just about to rappel to the stage when she noticed two figures creeping along a catwalk across the auditorium from her. “I was right! It’s Catwoman and Penguin!” Batgirl muttered. She retrieved her Batrope and was about to throw it across to a different girder so she could swing across the room when Undine and three black-clad finks burst on to the stage and began to drag the Deputy Undersecretary toward the still-open trapdoor.

Batgirl changed her tactics again. Her opening move was to swoop onto the stage, using her rope, and hit Undine’s chest hard with her heels, sending the nubile blonde sprawling. Next, the heroine targeted Seahawk as the pendulum her rope had become began its return arc. She became distracted, however, as a plume of fire erupted from the tip of Penguin’s umbrella, causing the sprinkler system to burst to life. Batgirl could hear the villain’s delighted cackling as he turned his firey plume toward her Batrope.

Grimly, Batgirl let her feet settle on the stage before the rope from which she had been suspended burned through. Seahawk was the first to feel her wrath as a showgirl kick dispatched him easily. Falcon and Raven had released their captive and were approaching the Daring Darling from opposite directions.

Batgirl did not hesitate. She stepped toward Falcon and slid to one side, so she could hit his side with two lightning-fast fists that took his breath away. As he doubled over, Batgirl’s hands gripped his belt at the small of his back and his collar behind his neck. A slide, a pivot, and a straightening of the knees sent him flying at Raven, who retreated, but not fast enough.

Batgirl pressed her attack, launching a flying kick to take out Raven as the henchman freed himself from his partner’s grasp. Finally, Batgirl slid toward Falcon, hooking her heel into his face, and leaving him moaning on the stage. The brief fight was over.

When Batgirl turned to reassure the foreign dignitary, her eyes widened in surprise. The man stood in the Catwoman’s grip as Purdy and Pussy approached. “Nice try, Batgirl,” the Feline Felon said in a mock congratulatory tone. “I’m afraid we’re about to finish purr-forming the job we came here to do. Soon, you’ll be utterly powerless. Look.” Batgirl let her gaze follow Catwoman’s pointing finger and saw the entire audience slumped in their chairs. The sprinklers continued to shower the drenched, unseeing onlookers as Catwoman laughed. “Unless you’ve managed to stay completely dry, you’ll be as helpless as them momentarily.”

Batgirl reached up and let the sprinkler water pool in one hand. She brought her hand to her lips and tasted the water. “It’s just as I thought. You’ve tainted this water with liquid Catatonia, but if you’re waiting for it to drive me batty and knock me temporarily out, I’m afraid you’ll be sadly disappointed. My friend Professor Xavier and I have developed antidotes for your devilish drugs. After Joker used Cataphrenic, your drug that makes good people evil and vice versa, to persuade me to join his gang three years ago, I decided a means of combating your sinister serums was absolutely essential. Liquid Catatonia was second on my list, followed closely by Catalepsy, your paralyzing agent. I assure you my antitoxins have been perfected!”

“So, like us, you’re immune to my liquid Catatonia today,” Catwoman mused. She put her hands on her hips and laughed, delightedly throwing back her head. “Congratulations, Batgirl. Of course, since you’ll never know which of my devious drugs I’m prepared to unleash, you’ll have to guard against all of them every time. Eventually, you’ll become addicted to the antidotes. Thank you for giving me a purr-fectly delicious avenue to power over you!”

“I doubt it, Catwoman,” Batgirl said. “You’re going back to jail for a long time, during which my antitoxins won’t be needed. If I were you, I’d surrender--now!”

Catwoman regarded her enthralling enemy. “You’re very impressive! I’ll have to switch to plan B. Kittens, remove our guest. I’ll deal with Batgirl purr-sonally.”

“We’ve danced this dance before, Catwoman,” Batgirl warned. “Have you won a single round of a fair fight with me?”

Catwoman’s hands came away from her hips with wicked metal claws extending from her fingers. “Forget the Queensbury rules. I’m going to rip you open and watch your guts spill out!”

As Batgirl crouched, waiting, Purdy and Pussy removed the foreign official, who had also been incapacitated by the drugged water. “Come on!” Batgirl confidently invited, clenching her fists and raising her arms.

Catwoman laughed, took a step toward Batgirl and thrust out a claw. Batgirl leaped back and was surprised when something heavy thudded onto the top of her head. Her vision blurred as she felt her legs collapse beneath her. Blackness claimed Batgirl before she hit the stage.

“Nice shot, Pengy,” Catwoman complimented as the Waddling Master of Fowl Play stepped from a ladder, sheltered from the indoor rain beneath a dripping umbrella. A gleaming blade remained extended from the umbrella’s tip.

“Batgirl literally sandbagged,” the Penguin crowed.

“Purr-fectly,” Catwoman purred, joining him beneath his umbrella. “She foolishly thought I’d fight fair.” The super-criminals shared a laugh.

“Hey!” Seahawk said, leading the finks to their master. “Look!”

“The boss got Batgirl,” Raven said. “She’s out cold!”

Falcon marveled. “Should we take her along and get rid of her?”

“Batgirl was not the objective of this caper, boys. Wak, wak, wak! Never fear, my foiled finks. Our prisoner will enable us to maneuver our entrancing enemy back into our clutches with ease. If we take her now, she may learn too much, but maneuvering her to a place where my plans for her can unfold naturally, will enable us to savor her defeat – as we send her on a one-way trip to oblivion. Come!”

“I’ve been looking forward to getting rid of her for years!” Undine emphatically declared.

“Business before pleasure,” Catwoman commanded, getting everyone’s attention. “Let’s see that my kittens have dragged out the right man.”

The criminals descended through the trapdoor, leaving the unconscious heroine lying motionless on the stage. As they departed, they passed the professor who had first fallen into the hench-kittens’ clutches. He lay on the floor, struggling, wrapped tightly in the net Boots and Pussy had prepared. Nobody spared him a glance.

Batgirl was surprised to be completely free of restraints when she recovered in a different environment. “What hit me?” she softly asked.

“I’m afraid that well-dressed fellow dropped a sandbag onto your head from the overhead catwalk,” a short, college-age man wearing a dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses on a chain explained.

Batgirl moved to look at him more closely and realized she was stretched out comfortably on a leather couch in an office. “Thank you for your help,” she said.

“I’m happy to be of assistance, Batgirl. You are Batgirl, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am. Who are you?” She reluctantly rose to a sitting position.

“Prentice, Al Prentice. I help the director run this center.”

“You’ve done a wonderful job of making me comfortable, Mr. Prentice. I need to get after those crooks.”

“Could you do me a favor before you leave?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Prentice presented a picture of Batgirl swinging into Undine and sat down beside her. “Would you please sign this for me?”

“I’d be delighted,” she said, signing the photo with a Sharpe pen he provided.

“Great! Also, when you have time, could I interview you about this case for the school paper?”

“I’ll tell you what. I ‘ll call you at the paper once the case is wrapped up and tell you anything I can.”

“Thanks. Batgirl. I’m glad you’re feeling better and I hope you get those crooks. Hit them one for me.”

“Sure,” Batgirl said, grinning. She stood, shook his hand, and followed him as he showed her out. Rain was beginning to fall lightly as Batgirl drove to Police Headquarters.

“Batgirl, thank goodness you’re all right!” Commissioner Gordon said as she entered her father’s office.

Any more, late-night duty was rare for the Commissioner, unless one of Gotham City’s infamous arch-criminals was terrorizing the city. He felt having two such criminals on the loose demanded his presence in the office.

“I’m fine, Commissioner. Sorry I missed you earlier. I gather you’re here because of Catwoman and the Penguin?”

“Indeed. Kidnapping the Bessarovian Deputy Undersecretary of International Affairs could easily cause an international incident if we don’t get him back soon. Do you have any idea why they went after him? Batman has suggested it would take three arch-criminals’ forces and resources to take over the country.”

“Catwoman, though, has perpetrated international capers on her own.”

“Right, Batgirl,” the Commissioner Gordon agreed. “She stole the voices of the music world’s dynamic duo, Chad and Jeremy, in order to throw a wrench into the English economy by upsetting the British tax base. She stole my voice on that occasion as well.”

“She also once stole the Golden Fleece, a dress spun of gold belonging to Queen Bess of Belgravia.”

“That’s right! Catwoman certainly caused an international incident on that occasion. Belgravia almost declared war on us.”

“Commissioner!” Batgirl said. “You’ve done it again.”

“Done what?”

“Listen,” Batgirl said, speaking quickly, “Belgravia, like Bessarovia, is a small country, about the size of one of our smaller states. If three supervillains could try to take over our country, two might try to run a smaller one--particularly a much smaller one!”

“You mean the Penguin and Catwoman kidnapped the Bessarovian Deputy Undersecretary of International Affairs as a means of taking over his country?”

“I’m afraid it’s a distinct possibility, Commissioner.”

“Good heavens! It would take a cold, calculating brain to plot the means of taking over another country, or even the world, overnight—perhaps every night! What sinister schemes have these criminals abandoned?” As the implications of Batgirl’s theory impressed themselves upon the Commissioner, his phone rang. He turned his attention to the instrument. “I’d better get that. Bonnie went home hours ago.”

“Wait, Commissioner,” Batgirl said, “may I please take it. I have a strange feeling this phone call may be related to this case.”

“Please go ahead.”

Batgirl picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Batgirl. How may I help you?”

“You can put me on speaker phone so everyone present can hear what I have to say,” the woman on the other end of the line purred.

“Catwoman!” Batgirl paused for a moment and shrugged. “All right. She punched a button on her father’s phone system. You’re on the speaker.”

“Purr-fect–”

“Get to the point!” the Commissioner sharply said.

“The point is I have something you want and if you want to know how to get it back, Batgirl – and Batgirl alone – will meet my associates and me at the Globe Balloon Company at midnight. If anyone else shows up, our Bessarovinan friend will be shipped home in pieces . . . itsy bitsy teeny tiny pieces—and lots of them!”

“That doesn’t give me much time,” Batgirl said.

“Then you better get going,” Catwoman said. She laughed and the line went dead.

“Batgirl, this is obviously a trap.”

“Obviously,” Batgirl agreed. “We were just discussing what’s at risk, though. I have no choice. I have to go alone, and I have to go right now!”

“Godspeed, Batgirl. Please be careful.”

“I will,” She said, over her shoulder as she stepped through the double doors of her father’s office.

‘This is one of the reasons I’ve never told him who I am,’ Batgirl thought. ‘Daddy’s worried about Batgirl, but what would he do if he knew I was his daughter?’

The rain had intensified, but was still pleasant as she drove over the water-slick asphalt toward what she knew to be a trap. Overhead, thunder rolled ominously. Catwoman cradled the phone at the abandoned Globe Balloon Company and regarded the others. “Get ready,” the Princess of Plunder commanded. “She’s coming.”

“Are you sure?” the Penguin asked.

“Of course I am!” Catwoman’s authoritative voice softened to a well-pleased purr. “We’ve given her no choice.” She laughed. “None whatsoever.”

“Capital!” Penguin said. “With the work my people have done since our arrival, we’ll send Batgirl on a journey from which she’ll never return. Wak, wak, wak!” As Penguin spoke, his hand stroked Undine’s shoulder gently. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Kittens,” Catwoman said, “each of you grab an umbrella and go watch for the flying mouse. The trap is for her. So, we don’t want to be surprised.” The hench-kittens hurriedly obeyed.

Batgirl made no attempt at stealth as the Batgirlcycle roared onto the grounds of the abandoned Globe Balloon Company. Her powerful bike sent white water behind her and to either side until she cut the engine, coasting to a stop. “I’m here!” she called loudly enough to be heard over the rain. “Show yourselves!”

“Of course, Batgirl,” Penguin called. “Wak, wak, wak!” An overhead light blazed to reveal the Penguin, who bowed magnanimously before standing beside Undine beneath an awning that kept them both completely dry. A gesture from Penguin prompted Undine to throw a switch and illuminate another figure Raven and Falcon had tied to a fire escape ladder. The two finks then stepped into the rainy night, leaving Batgirl’s sight. “I’m delighted you chose to cooperate. As you can see, Mr. Chekov’s safety depends upon you. Wak, wak, wak!”

“The extent of my cooperation is an open question, Penguin,” Batgirl said, dismounting her bike and approaching the villains. Water streamed along the contours of her body, and each of her steps caused a splash, but she did not seem to notice.

“That’s far enough, Batgirl,” Penguin called, holding up a hand. Batgirl stopped, spreading her legs to shoulder width and resting her hands on her shapely hips. The rain intensified, lowering an eerie, hissing curtain of mist between the heroine and the villain.

“All right,” she called. She and Penguin could hear one another surprisingly well under the circumstances. “It’s only fair to warn you the Court will be much more lenient if you abandon your criminal schemes and give yourself up.”

“Wak, wak, wak! You can’t possibly imagine I invited you here and showed you my special guest so that I could simply surrender!”

“My point, Pengy, is surrender would be your smartest option,” Batgirl explained. “You do often claim to be a genius.”

“You know something, Batgirl,” Undine interjected. “You’ve got a pretty smart mouth. Pengy, I’d be delighted to give her an attitude adjustment.”

“Thank you, my dear, but that won’t be necessary. I’ve a much better idea,” Penguin explained, winding an arm around the blonde bombshell. “As I said, Mr. Chekov’s safety, rather than my intelligence, is the question Batgirl has come to ponder with me tonight. Wak!” As Penguin spoke, Batgirl examined the captive’s predicament. His hands and feet were bound, while a gag kept him quiet. Additional ropes kept him in place against the ladder, where he had slowly been drenched. Despite his restraints, he was alert and aware, focused on Batgirl as she stood alone, challenging the villains.

“I want Mr. Chekov to remain safe,” Batgirl conceded. “So, how much do you want?”

“Phaw! You imagine I want mere money for my prisoner? Wak, wak, wak!

“Okay, Penguin,” Batgirl replied. “If not money, what do you want?”

Penguin tranquilly blew a smoke ring and grinned wickedly at Batgirl. “The price for our prisoner’s safety tonight, Batgirl, is you!”

“Me?” Thunder boomed overhead and lighting flashed in the distance.

“Precisely. Wak! Would you care to surrender?”

“How do I know Mr. Chekov will be safe if I do?”

“Wak! You’ll just have to trust me.”

“I think I’d rather ingest rat poison!”

“That might be arranged,” Undine muttered grimly to herself.

”I was afraid you’d feel that way,” Penguin responded philosophically. “It seems we’re back to Undine’s approach. Finks, now hear this. Wak! Go get her! Undine, kill the lights!”

Batgirl suddenly realized what Penguin had always known. She had been focusing on the illuminated scene he was directing. As she had watched, her eyes had grown accustomed to the light. When Undine shrouded the scene in darkness, Batgirl was blinded momentarily. Penguin’s finks, however, would not have been watching the scene their employer had orchestrated. They would have been preserving their night vision to carry out Penguin’s orders. Now, as they came for Batgirl through the murky gloom, she faced a tremendous disadvantage.

Suddenly lightening, flashing in conjunction with the loudest thunderclap yet, revealed three black-clad men charging through the rain toward Gotham City’s Soaked Sentinel. Batgirl dove aside and tumbled to her feet behind Raven, who spun to find Batgirl airborne before a showgirl kick dispatched him.

Batgirl landed and darted toward Seahawk, who threw a punch at her. He saw white teeth flash as Batgirl yanked him toward her, using his wrist. He grunted as she whirled past him and sent an elbow into his neck with stunning force.

As Seahawk’s body skimmed across a puddle, Falcon jumped onto Batgirl’s back. Initially, she did nothing more than bend forward, and the thug began pummeling her head and shoulders severely. Before the rapid barrage of blows could take its toll, however, she began to spin. The combination of the beating and her unorthodox tactics began to make Batgirl dizzy, causing her head to swim. She stopped, ramming an elbow backward as she straightened, dropping Falcon to the ground. Before he could recover and renew his vicious attack, Batgirl clipped his jaw, inducing a moan.

Batgirl’s chest heaved as she let her hands rest on bent knees while her heart pounded and the surrounding landscape stopped spinning. She remained disoriented until her breathing became regular, allowing her to maintain her position concealed in the rainy gloom, awaiting Penguin’s next move.

She had begun to try locating the kidnapped Bessarovian official when the Penguin’s clear voice cut through the gloom. “Drat! She’s beaten the finks already. Wak, wak, wak! It seems you’ll get your wish, Undine.” Penguin said, releasing her, “Clip Batgirl’s wings!”

The scantily-clad henchwoman had been disappointed in her performance as a fighter the last time she had encountered Batgirl. She happily accepted Batgirl’s targeting her first at the lecture hall since that decision demonstrated Batgirl’s due respect. Yet, despite her employers’ objectives having been achieved, Undine would still have preferred to deal with Batgirl at that juncture through straightforward violence – and personally.

Now, somewhere in the rainy darkness, Batgirl was recovering from the effects of a fight that had gone extraordinarily badly for the villains. Three men had been asked to overpower a lone, half-blinded woman, and while Batgirl was far from helpless, the fact she had decimated what should have been overwhelming enemy forces, seemingly in seconds, was simply unacceptable. Undine now had an opportunity to correct the situation and show off her formidable fighting prowess. The statuesque blonde smiled, anticipating their meeting as she crept forward into the darkness. Somewhere ahead, concealed within the hissing curtain of swirling mist, Batgirl was watching and waiting for her.

Penguin was far from idle as the women stalked one another in the wet gloom. He moved toward the captive and let a plume of colored gas issue from the tip of his umbrella. Vladimir Pavel Chekov could not help inhaling it and his body went quickly limp as a rag doll’s. Penguin cut the bound man free from the ladder with a knife that popped from his multi-tasking bumbershoot, caught the diplomat, straightened, and carried Chekov away.

Batgirl had been aware of Undine since her criminal career had begun. The henchwoman had started very young as the Joker’s eye candy when he tried to steal the world surfing championship when it had been held at Gotham Point. Batman had, of course, sunk those plans, but when Undine resurfaced, working for Madame DeBase and subsequently Legs Parker, she had continued to wear nothing but her form-fitting bikini.

The beautiful, young criminal aide had primarily remained in the Joker’s employ over the years, until he had literally jettisoned her. Now, the ex-associates rarely spoke to one another and mention of the Joker in Undine’s presence tended to inspire a violent response of one kind or another. At a relatively recent trial, Undine had serendipitously found her way into the Penguin’s employ.

Throughout her now lengthy career, the tremendous-looking temptress had dressed in almost exclusively her picturesque, white bikini and her unique mode of dress had become her trademark. Batgirl had often wondered if the henchwoman maintained her scanty mode of dress for the freedom of movement it allowed as her now considerable combat skills developed, or whether there might be a less practical reason.

Undeniably, the outfit displayed the attractive woman’s fantastically fabulous figure to its absolute maximum advantage. Batgirl understood her mostly male employers would have naturally appreciated the phenomenon. Undine was justifiably proud of her physical assets. The skimpy outfit might also, Batgirl thought, be the result of a prejudice Undine continuously nursed against wearing real clothing — ever. Regardless of the answer to Batgirl’s question about Undine’s wardrobe, or lack thereof, the blonde’s white bikini and sensational, suntanned body did nothing to help her hide as she crouched in the rain, listening for signs of her enemy.

A purple arm suddenly wound around Undine’s neck, choking off a startled cry as Batgirl pulled the henchwoman back, lifting her slightly. The barely-clad combatant squirmed, vainly trying to set her feet.

Somewhere, Batgirl knew Catwoman was watching her fight and wondered if the Feline Felon would realize this maneuver had been inspired by the treatment the Catwomen had afforded Batgirl as they tried to dismember her. ‘It really is nice when the shoe is on the other foot,’ the Curved Crusader thought. She would have been the first to admit, however, her intentions toward Undine were vastly less lethal.

Penguin’s picturesque paramour was genuinely surprised the pressure on her neck was practically painless, though it persisted momentarily after her head swam and velvety blackness enveloped her consciousness. Upon later reflection, Undine was amazed at how painlessly Batgirl had dispatched her.

The Purple-clad Paragon was rumored to have a wide mean streak and to exact her own perhaps petty forms of vengeance on her foes from time to time. On this occasion, however, Batgirl was not wasting time being petty. A man’s life hung in the balance and was vastly more important.

She let Undine’s unconscious body fall unceremoniously, ignoring the henchwoman completely once the blonde hit the ground. She then rapidly searched the deepening, murky darkness, hurrying toward the ladder where Penguin’s men had bound the captive. Upon reaching her destination, Batgirl realized she was alone with her sodden, beaten enemies.

The Penguin and Mr. Chekov had both vanished!

The Batgirlcycle was the only vehicle in sight, suggesting Penguin had taken the captive inside the building. Batgirl bounded to the door and burst through. When dazzling lights blazed above her, she stopped, raising a hand defensively.

A figure perched beside a tall window affording a view of the battlefield Batgirl had just vacated turned to regard the newcomer as a gloved hand removed the figure’s see-in-the-dark glasses. As Batgirl blinked, the watcher sank onto a pile of leopard-patterned cushions and curled up, drawing long arms closely against a black, skintight outfit.

“Good evening, my little mouse. I must congratulate you for racing into our trap so quickly. You’ve followed our devious design purr-fectly.”

“Catwoman,” Batgirl softly said. “This may be a trap, but it’s you who’ll be caught in it.”

“I think not,” the Princess of Plunder coolly replied. She stretched out lazily; easing herself from her perch; and landing on the floor in an animal crouch, her knees absorbing the shock of impact and her arms maintaining her balance. She commanded, “Kittens, pounce!”

Batgirl was still focused on the straightening villainess as she felt herself shoved to the ground from behind. Strong fingers gripped her arms as well as the hair of her wig, pulling mercilessly backward. For the second time in seventy-two hours, women devoted to Catwoman threatened to tear her arms from her shoulders.

Until this moment, Batgirl had managed to function, keeping her recent discomfiture from her mind. Now that she had something distracting her from defeating the hench-kittens, she knew the fight might be lost already. Fortunately, her cowl held the wig in place as blows began battering her relentlessly. The weight and ferocity of the attack made Batgirl’s knees buckle after a few moments, but the grip on her arms and wig tightened, supporting her, as the hench-kittens’ assault continued.

When the initial beating ended, Batgirl’s attackers released her. She collapsed, moaning. Six hench-kittens surrounded her, grinning wickedly at the results of their handiwork. “I know Penguin has plans for her,” Purdy said. ”Our little cat feet are just twitching, though.” With a delighted laugh she demonstrated this malady, kicking Batgirl viciously. The others quickly joined in the battery. Batgirl gasped for breath, remaining utterly still except for her heaving chest as her body was methodically pummeled once again.

As Catwoman’s watched, her delight at her employees’ performance transformed into dismay. A purple-gloved hand suddenly gripped Purdy’s foot and twisted it viciously, eliciting a painful scream. Batgirl held onto the brunette and swung Purdy toward the others, bowling Pussy; Boots; and Mittens over like ninepins.

Amazingly, Batgirl sprang to her feet and shoved Whiskers to the floor before stomping a purple heel against the girl’s temple, putting the petite blonde out of action with a satisfying thump. Tabitha sank into a fighting crouch and attacked with a high, straight-legged kick. Batgirl blocked, sidestepped, and wrapped her arms around the buxom beauty’s head. She moved her lips next to Tabitha‘s ear.

“My turn,” Batgirl softly said, spinning Tabitha by her shoulders and pulling her off balance simultaneously. Tabitha’s fall was stopped by a violent collision with the Dark Angel of Gotham City’s rising knee. Straightened, Tabitha was in the perfect position to be dispatched by a spinning kick that left her unconscious on the floor.

Catwoman had folded her arms and adopted a bored expression by the time the fallen hench-kittens picked themselves up and warily returned to the attack.

“How did she do that after what we did to her?” Pussy demanded.

“Obviously, she was playing possum,” Purdy said, limping slightly on her twisted ankle.

“Obviously,” Boots repeated drily.

“It doesn’t matter. She won’t catch us cat-napping again. Come on,” Mittens urged. “Let’s get her!”

Purdy circled behind Batgirl. The Caped Crimefightress shot a foot backward that connected, stunning the lead hench-kitten. Batgirl spun to follow up on her advantage. Purdy retreated and Batgirl followed until the criminal coed encountered a wall. Batgirl raised a knee, apparently planning to snap another kick at Purdy.

Purdy blocked and was surprised when the Curved Crusader turned her hip and slammed a booted foot into Purdy’s upper chest. The hench-kitten’s head bounced off the wall. Purdy’s body slid to the floor and remained still. Batgirl knew her remaining opponents were closing in from behind.

She had been tiring since Penguin’s men had attacked, despite the respite her handling of Undine had given. To some degree, Batgirl badly wanted to draw out her attackers’ defeat. Taking apart a crew of hench-kittens would be immensely satisfying. Having Catwoman watch her do it would be a definite psychological bonus. Unfortunately, she also knew indulging that whim would quickly become too exhausting. She would need energy to tackle Catwoman and then would still have to free the prisoner from Penguin.

Despite her growing fatigue, Batgirl leaped at her remaining opponents, twisting in midair. She landed, reaching forward to grip Boots and Mittens’ chins from behind before slamming their heads together with a resounding conk.

As they fell, Batgirl darted toward Pussy. “It’s almost over,” Gotham City’s Avenging Angel softly said.

“We had you,” the white-clad kitten said, her voice quavering as she retreated.

“Wrong!” Batgirl approached with the inevitability of doom. ‘There’s no harm in perpetuating the myth of my own invincibility,’ she silently decided. “Not even close!” Batgirl declared.

“What happened?”

“I simply blocked out the pain. Now, I think it’s time to deliver a little of what you're due!”

“No!” Pussy cried as Batgirl cut the henchwoman’s legs from beneath her. Batgirl caught one of Pussy’s legs and pivoted, swinging her around, and sending her sprawling. Pussy hit a wall and then the floor. She moaned and remained still.

Thunder echoed in the largely empty room and lightning backlit Batgirl, who stood with her hands on her hips and her legs spread to shoulder width. “All right, Catwoman,” Batgirl called. “I’ve dealt with your help—all of it! So, let’s get down to business. I’ve come for Mr. Chekov and you’re going to let him go, now!”

Catwoman chuckled. “Oh, Mr. Chekov’s condition is out of my hands,“ she coyly said, grinning at Batgirl. “I trust Penguin told you the price for his release?”

“You passed up a perfectly good opportunity to capture me earlier tonight.” Batgirl pointed out, moving toward Catwoman, striding purposefully. “You’re under arrest and I’ll fight you, if necessary, to prove the point.”

“No doubt, Batgirl, but this black cat never fights fair.” The Feline Fiend produced two golden pistols, aiming low at Batgirl. “See what I have in my paws? You’ll never take me.”

“I’ve taken antidotes for all of your demonic drugs, Catwoman,” Batgirl said. “You’re going back to jail!”

“Oh, you warned me you had prepared to counter all of my catastrophic concoctions,” Catwoman said with a wicked chuckle, “but suppose I shot you with a drug I learned of through our mutual friend, Ms. Nora Clavicle?”

“Nora is not my friend, Catwoman. She’s also no longer in Gotham City.”

“Do tell,” the villainess teased.

“It’s a long story,” Batgirl dismissively said.

Catwoman shrugged, maintaining her aim. “The drug I’ve selected is a fiendish derivative of curare. You’ll find it induces muscular paralysis with a mere scratch.”

Catwoman fired. Batgirl had gotten too close to get out of the way. Cat darts impaled both of her thighs. “You’ll collapse under your own weight in a matter of seconds, Batgirl. The more you try to maintain your balance, the more quickly your defeat will come. Once you’ve fallen, you’ll never, ever, get up. Happy landings,” the Princess of Plunder purred. Catwoman strode toward Batgirl as she put her weapons away, laughing softly.

The Gorgeous Guardian of Gotham moved even closer to Catwoman as her thighs went utterly numb. She tore the darts from her legs and flung them aside angrily. “Whatever else you plan to do to me, you won’t get away with it!”

Catwoman unleashed a delighted cackle that shook her shapely body almost uncontrollably. “Oh, I am quite finished with you, for the moment. If I’m not mistaken, Penguin’s prep-purr-ations for your exit are also complete. I saw him reviving his people and making final checks just after you stepped in here. He’s also put Mr. Chekov on ice. Now that our trap has sprung, the prisoner’s role in tonight’s scenario is over, but yours has barely begun.”

Batgirl was still approaching, but now her body was bent and her arms were outstretched, desperately trying to maintain her balance. She faltered and fell on her face just before reaching Catwoman. She tried to return to her feet, but immediately realized the gloating villainess had rendered her utterly helpless. Catwoman went on laughing and turned Batgirl’s prone body over carelessly with one foot.

“You got her, Catwoman. Nice work,” Tabitha complimented, as the hench-kittens padded quietly to their mistress.

“I wasn’t supposed to have to deal with her. That was your job!” Catwoman admonished, glaring at her minions.

The young women hung their heads.

“Forget it,” Catwoman said, her voice softening. “Penguin didn’t do much better.”

“So, what are we going to do with her now?” Mittens asked.

“We’ll dispose of her according to Penguin’s princely plan, while putting a few finishing touches of our own on her fate. Now, pay attention,” the Feline Fiend commanded, casting a baleful glance at her defeated enemy. She went on to softly describe her plans for Batgirl, concluding, “I have everything we’ll need in my bag.”

“That sounds worthwhile,” Whiskers said, tenderly rubbing a bruise.

“Wonderful,” Mittens agreed, doing likewise.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Boots agreed, grinning.

“You would,” Pussy said, favoring the sexy sadist with a wicked grin. “Still, hurting her will be very satisfying.”

“Let’s go,” Purdy urged, lifting Batgirl’s shoulders.

“Right,” Tabitha said, picking up Batgirl’s legs so they could carry her back out into the rain together. Catwoman nodded, slipping into a leopard-patterned coat and black hairnet before following Batgirl and her bearers. Pussy and Boots as well as Mittens and Whiskers flanked the helpless captive on either side as she was carried away toward her fate.

They found Penguin standing beneath an umbrella beside Undine, who had perched decoratively on one corner of a hot air balloon’s basket. The statuesque henchwoman’s scanty outfit was soaked through and clung even more closely than usual to her inviting curves. Behind them, the trio of finks stood shielding her from the howling wind, having been drenched by the sheeting rain long ago. Each of them was grinning and closely watching Undine and the approaching women. Whether the men’s happiness could be attributed to the balloon’s intended purpose or the view was unclear.

“Was this one of your escape vehicles, Penguin?” Batgirl asked.

“No, Batgirl. While it’s true I did use one of these to escape, this particular craft is about to become your personal chariot to oblivion. Wak, wak, wak!” As Penguin spoke, a loud thunderclap sounded, followed by a flash of lightning that revealed the balloon inflated above them was yellow and bore a black bat symbol.

“How appropriate,” Batgirl said witheringly, struggling vainly in the hench-kittens’ grip.

“Quite,” Penguin agreed. “Undine, my finks, and I have been looking forward to welcoming you aboard. Wak, wak, wak! I’d imagine Catwoman and her associates feel likewise.”

“Purr-fect-ly correct, Penguin,” Catwoman said, stepping beneath the umbrella. Penguin struggled to hold it high enough to accommodate her.

Batgirl thrashed and writhed prettily, but vainly, as Falcon wrapped his arms around her torso while Purdy and Tabitha let go of her limbs.

“No one would fly a balloon in weather like this,” Undine observed, swinging her legs into the basket and stepping aboard.

“You make an excellent point, Undine. Wak!” Penguin complimented, grinning wolfishly.

Batgirl’s fierce struggles continued. She was helpless to prevent her legs from descending into the basket. There, Undine gripped a dripping, metal bracelet in each hand and slipped each cold ring around the heroine’s ankles, closing both with a single, ominous click. Batgirl flailed her arms viciously, thrashing as Raven and Seahawk each snapped a cold bracelet suspended from the apparatus that would heat the air inside the balloon, around her wrists. After the men stepped back and the manacles’ effectiveness was proven, Falcon released her, stepping back.

“Do you want her belt, boss?” Undine asked as Falcon helped her from the basket.

“No! Leave it.” Penguin said. “Batgirl’s second lesson from Penguin’s flight school is about to commence and the electrifying conclusion I imagine to the exercise will be facilitated by surrounding our student with as much metal as possible. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Purr-fect,” Catwoman purred. “Following Batgirl’s launch, those handcuffs in which she is restrained and the metal objects in her utility belt will act like the key Benjamin Franklin historically suspended from a kite he flew in a thunderstorm.”

“Ben Franklin’s key attracted lightning and proved it contained electricity,” Undine recalled aloud.

“Precisely, ladies!” Penguin agreed. “Wak, wak, wak!”

“You are all monsters!” Batgirl declared.

“Indeed we are, my dear. Wak!” Penguin regarded his imprisoned passenger through a haze of smoke and a curtain of pelting rain drops. “The time has come to launch your fateful flight without further delay or ado. So, finks, remove the ballast!”

“Wait!” Catwoman commanded.

“Why?” Falcon asked.

“What for?” Seahawk concurred.

Catwoman regarded them coldly. “I wouldn’t want Batgirl to make her exit without adding a finishing touch of my own,” she explained. Then she paused and continued as her voice grew softer and became sultry. “That is, if you’ll purr-mit me, Pengy.”

“We could wait a minute,” Raven hesitantly offered.

“If you insist,” Undine said uncertainly, finishing the thought while looking at her boss.

“What are you doing?” Penguin demanded. “I have this situation completely under control!”

The finks remained still as Catwoman passed coiled wires to each of her hench-kittens. “Calm yourself, Penguin,” Catwoman said, sounding bored. “If you’d rather get on with it, I understand.”

Penguin waved a hand, noting the wires and guessing at the sort of sinister scheme running through the Feline Fiend’s vengeful mind. He, like many citizens of Gotham City, knew Catwoman and Batgirl were not fond of one another, to say the least, but only the two women knew exactly why. Penguin didn’t care. He grinned knowingly.

“Finks,” he said, bowing magnanimously, “let the ladies have at her. Wak!” Raven, Falcon, and Seawhawk stepped back. Undine moved close to Penguin, pressing her body against him and turning her head to enjoy what Catwoman was about to have done to Batgirl.

“Thank you, Pengy,” Catwoman said. “Kittens, entwine the captive.”

Pussy and Whiskers climbed into the balloon’s basket and looped wires around Batgirl’s ankles and upward at regular, tiny intervals along her legs. Carefully, they passed their wicked wires’ ends through the gaps in the basket to Boots and Mittens. The perfidious pair outside the basket threaded the sinister strands of metal through more gaps in the basket, pulling them tightly into their perfidious positions. Above them, Purdy and Tabitha began at her wrists and cinched wires around Batgirl’s arms, working their way down to her shoulders and pulling every strand tight with malicious glee.

Catwoman’s mouth curled into a wicked, satisfied smile as she watched her avaricious aides check and maintain the torturous tension of each sinister strand of wire surrounding Batgirl’s limbs. Soon, the hench-kittens’ evil efforts were entwining Batgirl’s waist; abdomen; and chest. The sinister sextet of shapely sycophants stepped back to admire the cruelly constructed wire mesh that had slowly become a crushing Cat’s Cradle.

“Almost finished,” Purdy said, smiling.

“Do you mean our work?” Tabitha asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“Or Batgirl?” Pussy offered, grinning.

“Both,” Wiskers enthused.

“I don’t know,” Mittens said. “There may still be a little slack in those wires.”

“It won’t hurt us to make sure,” Boots said philosophically, reaching for a wire. “What are they doing now?” Undine asked, as the hench-kittens braced themselves against the balloon’s basket to draw the evil embrace of Catwoman’s wicked wires even more closely against their comely captive. One by one, the insidiously inspired hench-kittens raised shapely legs to hold them against Batgirl’s body for additional leverage as they drew the wires even tighter.

“They’re making sure Batgirl will never escape the Cat’s Cradle they’ve woven from those wires,” Catwoman purred. “Once Batgirl is launched, she’ll be exponentially more attractive to the lightning—and she’ll be fried all the more quickly when it strikes, as well as being utterly unable to move!” The villainess threw her head back, laughing with genuine pleasure.

“Capital, Catwoman!” the Penguin crowed. “Your enhancement for Batgirl’s planned fate is diabolically delicious! Wak, wak, wak! After the lighting strike, she’ll be as crisp as a charred strip of bacon. I should have invited you to do this myself.”

“Never mind, Pengy,” the voluptuous villainess said, stepping closer to him and winding an arm around him to give him a gentle squeeze. “Once the lightening has lit up Batgirl, our plans will have been purr-fectly purr-formed.” She cast a glance at her hench-kittens, who seemed to be making final adjustments to Batgirl’s wicked, wire wrap. “Finished?”

“Yes, Catwoman,” the hench-kittens said, simultaneously stepping back and regarding their handiwork with professional pride.

“Soon, so is Batgirl,” Undine observed, laughing.

“Quite right, Undine!” Penguin enthused, leaning against Catwoman and tranquilly letting a stream of smoke rise skyward. “Wak! Now, tell me quickly. Is there anything else?”

“She’s all yours, Pengy,” Catwoman purred. “Finish her!”

“Remove the sandbags from the balloon’s basket, boys. Wak! ” Penguin excitedly watched his finks obey and Batgirl’s craft began drifting slowly upward as the basket’s ballast hit the ground. “Any last words, Batgirl?” the Penguin triumphantly taunted.

“If lightening does strike me dead, Penguin,” Batgirl shouted, “my allies will see to it that your criminal career afterward will be shockingly short!”

As the echoes of Batgirl’s threat died in the howling wind, Penguin touched the tip of his cigarette to the last remaining tether holding back Batgirl’s balloon.

“Bon voyage, Batgirl!” the Penguin cried, “Have a pleasant, but short, flight. Wak!” Flames licked hungrily at the rope and smoke curled skyward. All of the watchers knew the howling wind and sheeting rain would never prevent the rope from burning through, and setting Batgirl adrift in the raging storm!

“Up, up and away!” Catwoman called, touching her fingertips to her lips and blowing Batgirl a kiss. “Farewell – this time, forever!”

Laughter seized the evil entourage below her as thunder rolled and lightening illuminated the Drifting Daredevil restrained in her metal shackles and entwined in Catwoman’s cruel, wire Cat’s Cradle.

“She survived that one,” Undine said.

“Not to worry, my dear,” Penguin said. “The storm is still intensifying. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Batgirl will experience a purr-ticularly excruciating end, sooner or later,” Catwoman purred, smiling wickedly.

She watched happily as the rope burned through and Batgirl began to drift away--carried toward her electrifying doom.

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