Promotes Daring Villainy

A wide, white wake spread behind the Batboat. Batman guided the craft in pursuit of the yacht upon which the Penguin and his criminal crew were trying to escape, while Batgirl kept a pair of binoculars trained on the getaway craft.

“I think we’re gaining on them again!” she shouted over the roar of the engine.

“Good!” Batman loudly replied.

“Do you have any idea where he’s going?!” Batgirl asked.

“Not specifically!”

“I’ve heard Penguin has a secret island hideout somewhere!”

“It’s probably where he, Riddler, Joker, and Catwoman planned to hold the United World Organization Security Council several years ago!”

“Do you know where it is?!”

“No!” Batman replied. “I’m sure it’s in international waters, more than two hundred nautical miles off the coast!” He reached for the throttle and increased the Batboat’s speed.

“We’ll probably find out how fast he can really go when we get beyond twelve nautical miles!” Batgirl predicted. She knew that was the limit of America’s territorial waters. For an additional twelve miles beyond, it was clear the Navy or Coast Guard could arrest Penguin for crimes committed within the 12-mile limit. Capturing Penguin more than 24 miles off-shore would yield a host of jurisdictional problems.

“It won’t matter!” Batman confidently shouted. “With the amount of water that yacht displaces, he won’t have a chance to get away! Compared to us, he's big and slow! It’s only a matter of time!”

Batgirl stared at the yacht as her mind worked with the speed of a supercomputer. ‘If escape is futile, Penguin’s actions don’t make any sense,’ she thought. ‘Something is wrong!’

After a long, silent moment, Batman glanced at her.

“Penguin wouldn’t have run if he knew it was hopeless!” Batgirl reasoned, thinking aloud. ‘The Caped Crusader’s analysis of the chase might be clouded by overconfidence, but his reasoning makes whatever confidence he has seem justified.’

After a moment, Batman felt her eyes on him and glanced at her, favoring her with a rare smile. Something about her held his gaze and he thought for a moment about what she had just said. He shrugged.

Both the yacht and the Batboat increased their speed.

“If the result of this chase is a foregone conclusion, at what could he be playing?!” Batgirl demanded.

“We’ll ask him when we catch him!” Batman altered his course and began moving to intercept the larger craft, accelerating.

“Last time we were after him in the Batboat, he launched torpedoes at us!” Batgirl recalled aloud.

“He was in command of a decommissioned military facility at the time!” Batman reminded her. “He and the other members of United Underworld used the same tactic in their war surplus submarine! That yacht has no built-in offensive capability whatsoever! We should remain relatively safe!”

“I agree with everything . . . except your conclusion about the yacht’s capacity to attack us!” Batgirl said.

“Why?!” Batman asked.

“Penguin is in command! He’s going faster again!”

“True . . . for the moment,” Batman softly conceded. Batgirl had to listen carefully to hear her partner’s reply over the motor. “You may have a point, Batgirl.” The Caped Crusader eased the throttle forward, holding up a hand to check any reply Batgirl might make. “Penguin had control of the Batboat last night! He incorporated a device into the engine!”

“You found it, though!” Batgirl reminded him.

“Yes! His device would have let him control the Batboat! I found it quickly enough and my subsequent analysis revealed nothing. It was a typical Penguin ploy, executed almost flawlessly!”

“Why do you say ‘almost flawlessly?!’” Batgirl shouted. Yelling had begun to make her throat hurt.

“I found the device!” Batman answered. ‘Rather quickly,’ he silently realized. ‘Perhaps . . . I . . . found it . . . too quickly!”

“I see,” Batgirl said quietly.

“Tell me exactly what Penguin is doing!” Batman directed.

Batgirl’s magnified vision swept the yacht again. She soon spotted Penguin, standing on the deck, watching them and talking to Cora Sayers. “Nothing suspicious!” Batgirl reported. “He seems to be watching us while he talks to his girl!”

“He hasn’t been particularly animated at any time during this chase, has he?!”

“No!” Batgirl thoughtfully answered. “It’s like he’s waiting . . . for . . . something.” Her mind raced. ‘Could he be waiting for the right moment to take over the Batboat? Might he be planning to lure us to a particular place—into a trap?’ The yacht began moving faster once again. “You’re worried, aren’t you, Batman?!”

“I agree with you about Penguin’s actions not making sense, assuming he believes he can take control of the Batboat at any moment!”

“You’re right!!” Batgirl exclaimed. “Penguin shouldn’t know you found the device he hid in the engine!”

“Exactly, Batgirl!!” Batman agreed. “Why do you think he hasn’t fought back yet?!”

“I don’t know,” Batgirl replied. “It seems we both have questions for Penguin when we catch him!”

Batman reached for the throttle again. He darted a glance down at his hand and then at Batgirl after she snatched his wrist and held him firmly.

“What is it?!” the Caped Crusader asked.

“Suppose Penguin expected you to find that control! It’s just possible the reason Penguin hasn’t tried to control the Batboat is, he knows you found the mechanism that would have given him control!”

“If you’re right, Penguin expected me to find that control, or perhaps planned for me to find it!”

“Exactly! Why would Penguin plan for you to find his means of attacking the Batboat?”

Batman and Batgirl stared fearfully at one another. The Curved Crusader let go of the Dark Knight’s hand and Batman powered the Batboat down. Simultaneously, he declared, “He hid something else he didn’t want found . . . something even more deadly.”

The Batboat stopped. ”We need to go over every inch of this boat with a fine-toothed comb,” Batman declared.

“Right,” Batgirl agreed.

On the deck of the yacht, Penguin could feel the tension leave Cora Sayers’ body as she watched the Batboat slow to a halt. She turned to Penguin and frowned as its occupants began scrambling over the decks.

“Drat!” Penguin fumed. “They’ve guessed. Wak! Batman’s luck is uncanny at sea.”

“No fireworks?” Cora Sayers said quietly, leaning against him.

“I’m afraid not.” Penguin opened the throttle wide.

Cora Sayers softly swore. “That was anticlimactic!” she complained. “With all the anticipation your booby trap created, it somehow seems like this chase has gone on long enough to circumnavigate the globe.”

“I’m as disappointed as you are, Cora,” Penguin admitted. “Time is of the essence now. Did you bring the little bag we collected when we left the hotel this afternoon?”

“Do you mean the one you bought while I looked at bikinis?” she asked.

“Precisely,” the villain answered.

“I can get it quickly enough. You never told me what was in it.”

“It contains sodium pentathol, my dear,” Penguin revealed. “Wak!”

“Isn’t sodium pentathol truth serum?”

“It is indeed, my dear. I had hoped to question the Admiral using more subtle methods, but with Batman and Batgirl still alive to track us, more direct measures must now be employed.”

“Too bad,” Cora Sayers lamented. “How long will it take to question the Admiral?”

“Not long. I’ll turn the yacht over to the men and we’ll attend to the Admiral once he is in our power again.”

“Why would we have to recapture him?” the girl demanded. “I tied him to that bunk quite securely. I’d be happy to demonstrate my skill at that sort of thing if you’ll let me, Pengy.”

“I’ll consider your generous offer someday soon, my dear. Unfortunately, Batgirl found him and we must certainly assume she released him from his restraints. Wak!”

“We’ve tried to get rid of her four or five times now and she’s still alive to plague us,” his comely confederate complained.

“Among her many desirable qualities is resourcefulness,” Penguin said. “Her luck, of course, will run out eventually and there is still a chance the bomb on the Batboat will do its work.“

“A remote chance,” his attractive assistant petulantly countered.

“Wak! Right! That is why I need you to get that little bag so we can grab the Admiral and give him his injection. There is not a moment to be lost!” The perfidious pair separated and made their way below the yacht’s main deck.

Meanwhile, as night fell, Batman and Batgirl examined the Batboat’s engine with the aide of a powerful Batlight. Batman reasoned it was unclear how much time Penguin’s finks had spent installing a booby trap he was determined to find. To be certain he missed nothing, Batman took every component of the engine apart and put it back together.

“Here it is, Batgirl,” Batman quietly said, as Batgirl found a clear place on the deck to put another engine part. He backed out of the engine compartment holding something he carefully set on the gunwale beside the windshield.

“It’s a good thing you disabled those motion detectors,” Batgirl said, pointing. “We never would have had a chance otherwise.”

“Agreed,” Batman said. “I think the best thing to do would be to find a safe place and set off the bomb.”

“You may be right,” Batgirl agreed “I shudder to imagine someone finding it in the future without knowing what it is.”

“How deep is the water?”

“It may be deep enough, but I’m afraid we’re too close to the choral reef and its complex, undersea ecosystem.”

“How close are we to shore?”

Batgirl spread a chart across her knees. “Too close. There is a peninsula with a public beach jutting into the sea over there,” she said, pointing and letting the chart roll up.

“What does the Bat Radar indicate about nearby vessels?”

“There will be several in the harbor,” Batgirl said. “We were cruising along one of the more heavily-traveled sea lanes, and I’m seeing a few moving blips and one that is stationary. It’s probably a pleasure boat, a commercial fisherman, or perhaps a charter.” She pounded a fist into her gloved palm in frustration. “Some days you just can’t get rid of a bomb!”

“Our best course today is to explode the bomb in midair,” Batman decided, smiling at her once again. “Prepare the Batzooka, while I advise the Coast Guard of our situation. I want to be certain air traffic is kept clear of what will be the blast radius.”

The preparations took half an hour. Finally, Batman carefully connected the motion detectors on the bomb poised for launch on the Batzooka.

“I’m ready for launch, Batgirl. Is the target area clear?”

Batgirl studied the radar. “The target area is clear, Batman.”

“Good. Advise the Coast Guard I’m prepared to launch.”

Batgirl nodded and reached for the ship-to-shore BatRadio. “Batman is prepared to launch.”

“Roger,” a voice on the radio said. “The launch is a go.”

“You’re clear to launch, Batman.”

“Stand by,” Batman said. “Launch will commence in three, two, one. Launch!” The Batzooka sent the deadly projectile skyward with a bang that was drowned out when the bomb exploded in a fiery flash. Batman and Batgirl ducked, covering their heads until the smoke cleared.

“Batman, Batgirl, come in!” the voice on the radio urgently said.

“We’re okay,” Batgirl said into the BatRadio microphone. She glanced at Batman as he straightened. “I repeat, we’re okay.”

“Thank Heavens! Will you require further assistance? We can send a cutter to tow you in.”

“Thank you,” Batman said, taking over the microphone. “We should be able to finish our repairs before morning. I’d hate to keep you from your regular duty protecting our homeland.”

Batgirl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You realize Penguin came close to baiting us into blowing ourselves to Kingdom Come.”

“Yes. I think, though, that bomb was the last of Penguin’s sinister surprises.”

“I wish I knew what he was planning.”

“We’ll find out once we get to shore. Before then, we have a lot of work to do.”

“By the light of the silvery moon,” Batgirl said. Then, she turned away from her companion and, under her breath, muttered, “How delightfully romantic.”

“We’d better get started,” Batman urged.

“I wish we would have caught up with Penguin,” Batgirl said seriously. “There is no telling what that foul fiend is doing to Admiral Fangschleister.”

Moments earlier, aboard the yacht, Admiral Fangschleister was dismayed when he opened the door to the cabin he occupied to find Cora Sayers instead of Batgirl standing in the companionway outside. “It’s you!” he said.

“Indeed,” the girl said, stepping through the door before he could recover and close it. One of her knives appeared in her hand. “Penguin has questions for you that you’ll answer before we’re finished. Now, remove your jacket and shirt. It’s time we got started.”

The Admiral stared at her. “I’ll never willingly cooperate with you.”

“I’m only asking to preserve your uniform, Admiral,” Cora Sayers explained, shrugging. “If you’d rather I cut the shirt and coat from your chest, we can go that route.”

“You threatened to fillet me alive.”

“I still might, if you don’t cooperate,” she replied, closing the door behind her and advancing as the Admiral retreated.

“I don’t think you can overpower me, my dear. I think I’ll keep my clothes on. Thank you.”

“Too bad . . . for you,” Cora Sayers said, stepping closer and brandishing her knife.

“I believe, sir,” a new, male voice said, “you are not fully aware of your position. Wak, wak, wak!” A stream of cigarette smoke drifted into the room and the Admiral heard a click sound from behind him. He felt a point tap the small of his back. A glance at a mirror confirmed the Penguin stood, framed in the door behind the naval officer, holding an umbrella with a sharp point extending from the tip.

“We have you now,” Cora Sayers observed, grinning wickedly and chuckling.

“I believe, Admiral,” the Penguin said, “this blade could easily paralyze you if I were to let it impale your spine, severing critical nerves. Wak, wak, wak! But there’s no need for such unpleasantness. Simply obey the lady.”

“I’ll have your coat and shirt, Admiral,” Cora Sayers said. “You will strip now, please.”

Admiral Fangschleister felt the tip of Penguin’s blade lightly jab his back once again. He unbuttoned his coat, slipping it off before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. A moment later, he wore only a t-shirt over his upper body.

“Extend your right arm, please,” the girl directed.

More prodding prompted obedience and Cora Sayers wiped down the officer’s forearm with alcohol and jabbed a hypodermic needle into a vein. A bandage over the puncture wound completed the procedure.

“What is the meaning of this?” Admiral Fangschleister demanded.

“My dear Admiral,” Penguin began, retracting his umbrella’s blade, “the serum with which my assistant has injected you will peel away your mental defenses like the skin of an onion. When it has done its work, I will ask you questions. You will be utterly compelled to truthfully answer them. Resistance will be impossible. Until then, I think you should take a nap. Wak, wak, wak!” Colored smoke began to issue from the tip of Penguin’s umbrella just before the villain stepped forward to hold the smoking umbrella beneath the Admiral’s nose.

An explosion that shook the yacht drowned the thud the Admiral’s body made as it hit the floor.

“What was that?!” Cora Sayers excitedly asked.

“Great quivering icebergs!” Penguin responded, moving excitedly to the door. “Could the fate I planned for Batman have unfolded after all? Do I dare hope?”

“Do you think we got them?”

“It’s impossible to say, and turning back to check would be stupid. There may be another explanation.”

“Well then,” Cora Sayers said, dragging the fallen Admiral to the bunk and winding ropes around his limbs, “what’s our next move?”

“For me to talk to the finks while you finish up here.”

“How long will the serum take to work?”

“We’ll give it a couple of hours.”

“You know what you plan to ask him?”

“Certainly,” her employer replied. He cocked his head and squinted at Cora through his monocle. “What are you planning in that pretty head of yours?”

“Is there an unoccupied cabin where we could wait before the interrogation?”

“I think the cabin at the end this companionway is empty.”

“I’ll meet you there after you find out about that explosion. Even if we didn’t kill our enemies, I’m sure we could think of a way to keep busy.”

“If the bomb got them, Batman and Batgirl’s demise may have just occurred! Think positive, Cora.”

As they spoke, Cora Sayers led the way to the unoccupied cabin. “Hurry back,” she urged, opening the door.

“Kiss me for luck,” Penguin said. The brown-haired beauty wrapped her arms around him and drew her mouth to his. “You know, I could always ask about that explosion later,” he suggested once their kiss had broken.

“That is completely up to you,” Cora Sayers said, impatiently drawing him into the cabin. The door closed behind them as their mouths merged once more.

Moonlight glinted on the water as Batman guided the Batboat to its secluded pier in Gotham Harbor shortly before dawn. Batgirl was frustrated, chafing at the delay the repairs to the Batboat had caused. “What do you think Penguin is planning?” she asked.

“It’s impossible to be sure.”

“You think the Admiral will cooperate with Penguin?” Batgirl drowsily asked.

“Not willingly, but Penguin can be very persuasive.”

“I know,” Batgirl resignedly said, recalling Jenny Akasofu’s lengthy captivity in Penguin’s clutches, which had been the means of persuading the girl’s grandfather, a brilliant scientist, to assist with an ambitious extortion scheme. She also recalled how Penguin had teamed up with Florence of Arabia and used torture to wring money from members of the Gotham City Decency League. More recently, Catwoman had broken him out of prison to obtain his help in becoming Queen of the Bessarovian Cossacks. Their plan had involved obtaining the unwilling aid of a Bessarovian diplomat. Batgirl took a deep breath and let it out. “So, the ball’s in Penguin’s court?”

“For the moment, I think so,” Batman agreed. “Predicting his destination with the yacht might be possible, but bursting in on the crooks now could easily risk the Admiral’s safety.”

“You may be right,” Batgirl said seriously. While rescuing the Akasofus and thwarting Penguin’s plans on other occasions, Batgirl had learned how ruthless and vengeful the Penguin could become. He had placed Jenny in a deathtrap with Batgirl as a means of punishing the athletic, young co-ed for ‘unexpected trouble’ she had caused him. “He may have just fled slightly more than twenty-four miles out to sea in order to work on the Admiral. International law makes prosecution for crimes like kidnapping more challenging.”

Batman nodded. “Finding Penguin’s current nest might require a session with the Batcomputer. All our leads dried up before Penguin took the Admiral.”

“What if we were to ask officials at the Hexagon what Penguin may learn from the Admiral?” Batgirl asked.

“Good thinking, Batgirl. We’ll need to ask Commissioner Gordon to set up a meeting at the Hexagon for us. We’ll never predict what Penguin is planning without at least a general idea of what knowledge Admiral Fangschleister has.” Batman finished tying the last knot to moor the Batboat and urged, “To the Batmobile!”

In the car, Batgirl turned over the Caped Crusader’s keys. She reached for the Batphone after Batman began driving.

“Yes, Batman,” the Commissioner said.

“This is Batgirl.” She brought her father up-to-date. Then she said, “Batman and I would like to schedule an appointment at the Hexagon to learn generally what Admiral Fangschleister knows. Without such knowledge, stopping Penguin might be impossible.”

“I’ll try to set something up for you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you Commissioner. Oh, the Batgirlcycle is parked at the Batboat’s pier. Could you have it brought to Police Headquarters for me? I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, Batgirl,” the Commissioner said. “Good luck.”

As Batgirl put down the phone and the Batmobile left Gotham City, Batman glanced at her uncomfortably. He then said, “You realize, I’ll have to administer the Bat-Sleep to you to protect the location of the Batcave.”

“Oh, why don’t you just save us the trouble and tell me who you are under that mask of yours? Here, I’ll show you who I am.” Batgirl’s right hand moved up to her mask.

“BATGIRL!” Batman yelled in surprise. It was all he could do to keep from driving off the road.

The Curved Crusader lowered her hand and smiled teasingly at the Dark Knight. “Alright, I’m just kidding . . . but, you
know . . .”

‘Ugh,’ Batgirl thought. ‘I sound like Playgirl!’

". . . after all these years, it would make life simpler if we knew each other’s secret identities. After all, I would certainly trust you and Robin with mine.”

“It’s not a matter of trust, Batgirl,” Batman replied, regaining his composure. “We would be leaving ourselves open to even more cruel torture if certain parties thought we knew each other’s civilian personas.”

“I think most people believe we already know each other’s identities.”

“Perhaps,” Batman admitted. For a moment, he seemed to be seriously considering Batgirl’s suggestion. “Honestly, though, my biggest concern is for our families. If our identities became known, they would instantly become targets.”

“True enough, but–"

“Batgirl you raise an interesting point that may be long-overdue for consideration. For now, however–”

“Go ahead. I’ll talk to you in the Batcave.”

“Good morning, Alfred,” Batman said as the Batmobile pulled into the Batcave. “Penguin is at large, and I’m hoping the Batcomputer will provide us with a lead.”

“Good morning, sir,” the butler replied. “I hope you . . . and Batgirl . . . had a productive evening. I’m not at all fond of the Penguin, as you well know.”

The butler had taken a very active role, over the years, in combating the Penguin's confounding, criminal plots. He had impersonated an insurance investigator from Floyds of Dublin in order to photograph socialite Sophia Star’s jewels, thus enabling the Dynamic Duo to protect them. He had been brainwashed and manipulated into revealing the top-secret location of the multimillionaires' annual awards dinner, where twelve million dollars in cash awaited the Waddling Master of Fowl Play. Alfred had impersonated the infamous, British forger, Quillpen Quirch, in order to gather evidence against Penguin, but the wily bird had seen through the charade and arranged to cook him in an enormous humble pie. Alfred had impersonated Bruce Wayne’s minister to protect the cleric from Penguin’s finks when they had been sent to bring him so he could marry their employer and Barbara Gordon. A second pie had been employed when Penguin had kidnapped the butler in order to manipulate Harriet Cooper, his employer’s permanent houseguest. Finally, the last time the Black Bird of Prey had invaded Wayne Manor, he had arranged to dissolve Alfred, along with the Dynamic Duo, in the reflecting pool after his aide had emptied a bottle of potent acid into it.

Batman nodded. “I think we’ve developed a strategy to nab that particularly cagey bird.”

“Good show, sir! I’ll step away while you and Batgirl proceed to pursue that villain. Would you like anything for breakfast?”

“Perhaps some fruit and bran muffins,” Batman answered. Then he stifled a yawn and, setting aside his usual aversion to strong stimulants, added, “Oh, and coffee.”

“Very good, sir,” the butler replied.

Once Alfred had provided breakfast and departed again, Batman revived Batgirl. “I’m always amazed by this place,” she said, inhaling.

“Thank you,” Batman said. “I thought we might have some breakfast while we work. Good nutrition–”

“Is worthwhile and its own reward. Will the Batcomputer be able to predict Penguin’s plans?” she asked, selecting a muffin while Batman poured coffee for both of them.

“Not his plans, but I’ve programmed the situational parameters and we may learn his location,” Batman replied, peeling a banana.

“That would be great! If we can get him before he compels the Admiral to talk–”

The sound of the Batcomputer’s bell interrupted.

“That card may tell us where Penguin landed and is holding the Admiral,” Batman announced. Batgirl snatched the card from the machine, read it, and handed it to Batman.

“Of course!” Batman mused. “The once-secret, river-bottom dock where Penguin kept his submarine when he; Joker; Riddler; and Catwoman, kidnapped the United World Organization Security Council could be the answer. You made reference to that case earlier.”

“That’s right. As I recall, the crooks used Ye Ole’ Benbow Taverne for their hideout at that time. I looked around there yesterday and saw no sign of the Penguin,” Batgirl said, setting her coffee cup aside.

A second bell sounded and Batgirl snatched the card from the slot, read it, and handed it over to Batman. “Alternately, Penguin may be using the Quarterdeck Club, which overlooks the Gotham Amusement Pier. Penguin would certainly feel at home among the sails and rigging set up to resemble a warship from the Napoleonic era.

“I thought The Quarterdeck Club was open for business,” Batgirl said. Six years previously, Joker had been inspired to get a job from the Gotham City Gladiators football team and had robbed a charity luncheon there after being told he had not been hired. The Clown Prince of Crime had also kidnapped Batgirl and a woman who worked for the team.

“It was closed to have the masts, sails, and rigging set up prior to this year’s new membership drive. I believe it will reopen soon. Meanwhile, it’s available for Penguin.”

“I think it’s the more likely of our options.”

The beeping and flashing red phone interrupted their consideration of the Batcomputer’s findings.

“Yes, Commissioner,” Batman said.

“General Wilcox at the Hexagon is expecting you in half an hour. Can you be there?”

“We’ll be there, Commissioner. Thank you for your help.”

“You’re most welcome, Caped Crusader. Good luck.”

“Are we off to the Hexagon?” Batgirl asked, as Batman set down the phone.

“Yes,” Batman said. “I hope General Wilcox will be able to tell us something. If Penguin is plotting to disrupt national security, there may be nothing we can be told.”

“Couldn’t a situation be described in general terms?” Batgirl asked.

“Perhaps,” Batman answered. “You know, of course, the Hexagon coordinates the defense of this part of the country?”

Batgirl nodded. She had been to the Hexagon before, around the beginning of President George W. Bush’s first term, just as Saddam Hussein’s agent, Ayesha Ladula, had caught her and Daily Planet investigative reporter, Lois Lane; placed them in a small room where poisonous gas had been pumped in from the ceiling; and retracted the floor, intending to serve the captives to flesh-eating bacteria.

The Caped Crusader’s earlier experience at the Hexagon had occurred when the Penguin had stolen plans for a tank the villain and Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, had later constructed from stolen gold.

“I don’t think anyone would meet with us just to say they couldn’t tell us anything,” Batgirl reasoned. “Regardless, General Wilcox starts his work day early.”

“Early to bed and early to rise,” Batman began to quote. Then, he became serious. “You may be right about the value of our meeting. I’ll have to put you to sleep again.”

Batgirl realized this was no time to revisit their earlier discussion. “I understand,” Batgirl agreed, swallowing the last of her breakfast and returning to the Batmobile. Batman followed after draining his coffee cup.

Moments later, Batman and his slumbering companion roared toward their appointment at the top legal speed.

“Good morning,” the duty officer on the desk at the Hexagon said as Batman and Batgirl entered the building and crossed the lobby. “General Wilcox is expecting you. I’ll have you escorted to the briefing room where he will join you.”

“Thank you,” the caped crime-fighters said simultaneously. Moments later, their escort left them in a room with a large conference table.

One minute later, the General entered and moved to the head of the table. “Thank you both for coming,” he said, shaking hands with both and sitting down, gesturing for his guests to do the same. “Before we begin, I must ask both of you to keep any details you may learn in the course of our conversation related to national security confidential.”

“Of course, General,” Batgirl said, sinking into her comfortable chair.

“Certainly,” Batman said, doing likewise.

“Good. I understand Admiral Fangschleister has been kidnapped and that we can expect a criminal called the Penguin to eventually learn all he knows.”

“I’m afraid so, sir,” Batman said seriously.

“We were hoping to get an idea of what the Admiral may reveal to Penguin, so we can anticipate his crime and stop him,” Batgirl explained.

“The Admiral is in Gotham City in connection with Operation Bullseye, which is nearly ready for initial testing.”

“What’s Operation Bullseye?” Batgirl asked.

“This program is the most successful element of the Defense Department’s so-called 'Star Wars' program to date.”

“The goal of ‘Star Wars’ is to shoot down incoming missiles before they reach their targets.”

“That’s right, Batman. Operation Bullseye will bring a satellite-mounted laser gun online.”

“Is the laser capable of hitting targets on the ground?” Batman asked.

“Yes,” the General replied, “We had a failsafe built into the system for testing.”

“That’s a relief,” Batgirl said. “Imagine the Penguin in command of such a weapon.”

“We have, Batgirl,” General Wilcox said. “We’re very worried about this situation’s implications. Admiral Fangschleister’s orders require him to send a code that will deactivate the failsafe following testing.”

“It might be helpful for us to understand how the failsafe works,” Batman said.

General Wilcox hesitated briefly before nodding. His voice grew softer as he continued. “Without the failsafe, Bullseye can target and destroy anything on the planet. Ships, buildings, and even people could all be in danger. With the code active, Bullseye is only allowed to hit preprogrammed targets. At yesterday’s meetings Admiral Fangschleister was given twenty-five of them.”

“Can the failsafe be reactivated if Penguin works his way around it?” Batgirl asked.

“No,” General Wilcox answered. “The deactivation code deletes the failsafe, and once it’s gone . . . . ”

“The preprogrammed targets need to be placed on intended targets to destroy them?” Batman asked.

“Correct.”

“So, as long as the failsafe remains in place,” Batgirl reasoned, “One way to stop Penguin would be to get hold of the preprogrammed targets and keep them from endangering property or the population.”

“Yes, Batgirl,” the General agreed. “You’ve proposed a possible solution.”

“Does Bullseye have a self-destruct capability?” Batman asked.

“Yes,” General Wilcox said. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the authority to release that code. I’ve spoken personally to President Obama, and we agree the two of you going after Penguin make it less likely he will use Bullseye against targets in this country.”

“Despite any previous reservations he may have expressed about the program, the President wants to protect our nation’s investment in 'Star Wars,'” Batgirl concluded.

“Naturally, Batgirl,” the General said. “My duties have political dimensions and implications. Certain parties were reluctant to bring you both into the circle of people with knowledge of Bullseye, but the President felt the risk was worth taking. He's a big fan of yours.”

“His trust is an honor. We won’t take the responsibility you’ve given us lightly,” Batman said. “Is there anything else about Bullseye you can share?”

“One last thing,” General Wilcox said. “Admiral Fangschleister does not know the code to deactivate the failsafe. It was to be given to him only when testing is successful.”

“That is good news,” Batgirl said.

“It may be bad news for the Admiral,” Batman pointed out. “Penguin may want that information pretty badly. I shudder to think of the lengths to which that fiend will go to get his answers.”

“Admiral Fangschleister has undergone training to resist interrogation,” General Wilcox pointed out.

“He’ll need it,’ Batgirl said.

“Maybe we can rescue him before Penguin jeopardizes national security,” Batman said.

“Admiral Fangschleister becoming available for debriefing would make many of my colleagues very happy,” General Wilcox said. “Good luck to both of you.”

Batman and Batgirl thanked the General and hurried from the Hexagon. They roared away in the Batmobile.

“The situation looks grim,” Batgirl said. “Where are we going?”

“The situation could be worse and we won’t be able to adequately answer the Commissioner’s questions. I think we should take the fight directly to Penguin.”

“Then we’re going to investigate the Quarterdeck Club?”

“Precisely, Batgirl, and there may not be a moment to lose!”

Meanwhile, Admiral Fangschleister sat shirtless, bound to a chair between Cora Sayers and the Penguin. His captors remained in the shadows surrounding the pool of light an overhead lamp cast upon their prisoner.

“I’ll get that override code out of him, Pengy,” Cora said confidently, regarding the Admiral with folded arms and a smile. “Give me about half an hour to talk to him.”

“That won’t be necessary, my dear,” Penguin said. “His bloodstream is practically saturated with truth serum. If he knew the code, he would have told us . . . along with everything else.”

“Shall we get him dressed then?”

“I’ll leave him in your capable hands. The finks and I will see this place looks abandoned before we go.”

“Will he be coming for the demonstration?” Cora Sayers asked.

“No. He’ll need to recover from his treatment for awhile before the finks make their delivery, and I’m sure you’ll see to it he doesn’t get away while he remains cooped up here.”

“I rather thought we’d be demonstrating our delicious, new power on him.”

“Oh, no, Cora. Killing him is quite unnecessary. I’ve a more practical use for him.”

Cora shrugged after a moment of silent thought. “What you’re saying is, we still need him.” Suddenly, Cora Sayers brightened. “Hey! How much will the government give us to return him intact?”

“Not a cent. He’s expendable now, in their eyes, and a security risk. Negotiating with the United States for his safe return is not an option, unfortunately. Our new President would never set a precedent by making a deal under these circumstances, no matter what we threaten to do to the Admiral.”

“If returning him offers no benefit and he’s considered a casualty anyway–”

Penguin recalled his conversation the previous day with his finks while Cora had been swimming. “You’ll leave his fate to me, Cora. You can guard him, can’t you?”

“Watching him for you will be a pleasure, Pengy. That’s what you want, right?” Cora Sayers asked.

“Indeed,” the villain confirmed, nodding as a smile curled his lips.

The woman smiled at him with genuine pleasure. “You’d think the Admiral would be worth something.” Then, she had another idea. “Might he be worth something to some nation other than the United States?”

“Cora! We’re American criminals. Betraying our country could fundamentally change the domestic environment in which we pursue wealth. I assure you, this is by far the best place in the world to ply our criminal trade.”

Cora Sayers shrugged. “Have I told you lately how fiendishly clever I think you are?” she asked.

“No, my dear. Wak!” Penguin replied. “I thank you for your kindness, but it’s hardly necessary. I am very self-aware.”

“So tell me,” Cora Sayers began, “what will we do with him if he has no value as a hostage and you insist he remains alive?”

“Killing him is pointless and unnecessary, my bloodthirsty bandit,” the Penguin explained. “I’ve prepared our instructions and placed them in his uniform coat. Soon, I’ll ask the finks to drop him at Police Headquarters, while we prepare a demonstration that will place Gotham City into the paralyzing grip of fear and a fortune I should have stolen years ago into our hands. Wak, wak, wak!”

Shortly thereafter, the Batphone flashed and beeped beside Batman. “Yes, Commissioner?” the Caped Crusader answered, picking up the receiver.

“Penguin had a message delivered to Police Headquarters. It says he will announce something of 'profound importance' to Gotham City within the hour.”

“Penguin said his announcement would be of ‘profound importance’?”

“That’s right, Batman.”

“Batgirl and I will be on hand presently to listen to this announcement.”

“I’ll see you both soon.”

Batman put the phone down and glanced at Batgirl. “I’m glad you fastened your seat belt, Batgirl. We’re about to make an Emergency Bat-Turn.”

“Ready when you are,” Batgirl said, bracing herself.

The retro-rockets fired seconds before Batman threw a switch to deploy a pair of parachutes bearing Bat-insignias. Tires screeched as the Batmobile spun around 180 degrees. As the Batmobile began moving in the opposite direction, the Caped Crusader pressed a button to jettison the parachutes. Batgirl relaxed as the car moved off, now headed back toward town.

Across town, a van pulled out of a parking lot. It belonged to a service Batman had on 24-hour, seven days a week call to retrieve the abandoned parachutes.

Shortly thereafter, Batman pulled up behind the Batgirlcycle in front of Police Headquarters. He and Batgirl raced up the stairs and took the elevator to the tenth floor. They then quickly turned left, sprinted a short way down a hall and went left again through the double doors to the Commissioner’s office.

“Have you heard from Penguin yet?” Batgirl asked.

“Sure and we haven’t,” Chief O’Hara said. “We’re glad you’re here, though. That feathered devil’s deadline has almost passed.”

“I suspect we’ll be receiving his phone call momentarily,” Batman predicted. The phone rang as he stopped speaking.

“Hello, Commissioner,” Penguin jovially said. “Assuming you’re not alone, I’d like to be put on speakers and to direct your attention to the Villainy Channel.”

“You’re on speakers, Penguin. What is it you want?”

“Are you receiving the Villainy Channel?”

“Chief O’Hara, tune in the Villainy Channel,” Commissioner Gordon ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the Chief said, moving to the Commissioner’s television and tuning in the image of a yacht anchored just off an apparently deserted island.

“We see a yacht, Penguin,” the Commissioner reported.

“Not for much longer you won’t. Before that yacht sinks, I want to assure you it is completely unoccupied and no humans are currently in any danger whatsoever. Wak!”

“You obviously have something to say, Penguin,” Batman said.

“Well, I’d hoped you’d be there, Caped Cut-Up. As they say, Batman, a picture is worth a thousand words. Wak, Wak, Wak! Observe carefully.”

“We’re watching.” Batgirl said.

“Ah, Batgirl. You’ve graced the Commissioner’s office with your presence as well. Keep those pretty green eyes of yours pealed.”

Everyone attentively watched the television screen as a streak of light descended from the sky, focusing on the yacht until a tiny spark caused the pleasure craft to suddenly explode in an intense ball of fire. When the smoke cleared, the yacht had been reduced to smoldering debris. Some of it floated beside the island where the light beam had struck.

“Now,” Penguin continued, adopting a businesslike manner. “As I said, the yacht was unoccupied. Tomorrow I plan to target a site in Gotham City. Unless ten million dollars is delivered to me, I’ll blast the target I’ve chosen to pieces. The cost in lives and property of the destruction I can cause will far exceed the mere ten million dollars for which I’m asking. I know I can count on Gotham City’s good sense. Instructions for delivering my money will be presently provided. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Paying the blackmail would be insane!” Batgirl declared. “We’d have no assurance you wouldn’t demand more ransom later!”

“You have a point, Batgirl, but I promise you this: If you force me to present a public, deadly demonstration of this fantastical weapon, the price to keep me from systematically destroying all of Gotham City will double–repeatedly! Wak, wak, wak!”

“Penguin, you can’t be serious!” Batman said. “Gotham City’s leaders will never be able to gather ten million dollars overnight. If you expect to get paid, the city will need more time.”

“I’m deadly serious about my deadline, Batman,” Penguin said. “I suggest you hit up one or two of those billionaires who live the high life in the media spotlight, if my demands create too much of a fiscal strain on Gotham City's government.”

“You’ve run for mayor of Gotham City, Penguin,” Batman said. “It’s hard for me to believe you’d willingly destroy the entire city!”

“You’re tragically mistaken if you think I’m bluffing, Batman. Remember how I helped kidnap the Security Council of the United World Organization? Think of the implications of that blockbuster crime if you really question the lengths to which I’ll go in pursuit of the almighty dollar. You may also find the method I use to deliver the instuctions for the delivery of my money . . . er, instructive! Wak! That is all.” Penguin broke the connection.

“How did the trace work?” Chief O’Hara asked the officer on the other end of an internal telephone line. He listened and looked at the others, who were expectantly watching him. “We couldn’t trace Penguin,” he said resignedly, setting down the phone.

“The Waddling Master of Fowl Play has evaded detection while staging a very effective demonstration,” Commissioner Gordon said, raising his head from where it had fallen into his hands. “I’ll have to contact Mayor Petalberg and perhaps Bruce Wayne.”

“I have reason to believe Mister Wayne recently left on a business trip,” Batman said. “I’m sure he’ll help if he learns of the situation with Penguin, but contacting him may take time.”

“Maybe Katherine Kane would help us,” Chief O’Hara said.

“Good thinking, Chief,” Batgirl said. “The best approach to fighting Penguin, though, would be to catch him before he can use his death ray against the good people of Gotham City.”

“Well said, Batgirl,” Batman complimented. “We do have a likely hideout to investigate.”

She nodded.

“Quick!” They both said simultaneously, “to the Bat—”

They suddenly paused.

“-girlcycle,” Batman finished.

“-mobile,” Batgirl said simultaneously.

They stared at one another for a beat and simultaneously offered, “Make a decision.”

“I’ll drive,” Batgirl said, after another beat while Batman exhaled.

Moments later, Batgirl eased the Batgirlcycle into traffic with Batman’s strong hands clasped against her waist, his powerful fingers pressed into her shapely hips, his chest leaning closely against her back, and his hot breath searing the back of her neck when it became exposed between the back of her cowl, her red hair and her cape. Under the circumstances, Batgirl regretted having to hurry.

A short time later, Penguin led Cora Sayers and his finks into the main room of The Quarterdeck Club. His henchwoman suddenly gripped his arm and pointed in the direction of the umbrella stand. “Pengy, the handle on that umbrella is flashing!”

Penguin turned to follow her pointing finger. “Indeed it is, Cora. Intruders have penetrated the perimeter of my silent security system. Batman and Batgirl have tracked me to this nest more quickly than I guessed they would.”

“You’re sure it’s them?” Cora Sayers asked, releasing Penguin and letting her arms fall to her sides.

"Who else would it be?” he asked rhetorically.

Before Cora could guess Robin, Batwoman, Flamebird, the police or Navy Seals, Bass asked, “What are we going to do, boss?”

“We’ll ultimately finish them off once and for all,” Penguin replied. “Without Batman or Batgirl, Gotham City’s leaders will have no choice but to pay . . . and we’ll be able to demand anything! Wak, wak, wak!”

“We’ll need to catch them first,” Pike pointed out.

“How are we gonna do that?” Marlin asked.

“How are we gonna do that?” Parrot repeated, meditatively scratching his head.

“We’ll let them come to us. Wak! The umbrella handle will flash more rapidly as they come closer. Once they’ve found us, you finks will swab this hideout with them. Wak, wak, wak!”

‘That approach always works,’ Cora thought disgustedly.

“Come to think of it,” Penguin continued, “they’ll probably begin by climbing to the roof. Go and ambush them there – quickly!” The finks hurried away.

“What about me, Pengy?” Cora Sayers asked. “I’ve done a better job of debilitating Batman and Batgirl than all your finks combined--more than once!”

“You raise an excellent point, my cunning cutthroat,” Penguin acknowledged, lighting a fresh cigarette from the one in his black, lacquered holder. “We’ll give the finks a chance to get their revenge. They do outnumber that pair of pesky paragons, after all. If they fail, however, I’ll leave them to you. Just incapacitate them. I chose this hideout because of its potential for disposing of certain bats. Wak, wak, wak!”

“How will you dispose of them?”

“You’ll soon see,” Penguin promised, blowing a smoke ring and winding an arm around his comely companion. “Come. Wak! We don’t want to miss the action topside, below the club’s amazing, new advertising gimmick. Wak!”

Moments later, Batman and Batgirl Batclimbed one side of the Quarterdeck Club as Cora Sayers, the criminal mastermind, and his finks watched from a hidden, elevated vantage point. Their Batclimb ended as the Daring Duo pulled themselves through faux gun ports in the walls surrounding the building’s roof.

Masts, rigging, yards, and sails had been arranged to make the building’s roof resemble the main deck of the type of warships upon which nations fought at sea and traveled before steamships were widely used. Batman pointed at one of the hatches, from which stairwells descended to the building’s interior, and moved past Batgirl after she nodded.

They crouched, listening at the first hatch and Batman reached to open it after each signaled readiness. Both waited, inhaling.

The finks literally descended upon Batman and Batgirl in response to a gesture from Penguin.

Batman became aware of the attack when Pike pulled his shoulder back. Before the Caped Crusader could react, Marlin landed a devastating blow, sending him sprawling into the shadows. Parrot and Bass, meanwhile, seized Batgirl’s shoulders, hauling her to her feet and holding her, viciously twisting her arms behind her. The finks had suffered more at her hands and Pike repaid her in kind, going to work on her abdomen with vicious enthusiasm.

Batgirl sagged as he went on pummeling her and she was pleased to feel the finks’ grip on her shoulders slacken slightly. She had been waiting for such a sign of their overconfidence. Light flashed on her gritted, white teeth as Batgirl raised both knees to her chest and thrust her heels forward, knocking Pike backwards. She then twisted and pulled her arms from the finks’ grip before slamming her battle-honed elbows into her remaining attackers’ midsections. Both men doubled over, gasping.

Parrot followed Batman into the shadows surrounding the attack on Batgirl, creeping forward. The fink’s senses remained alert, but he detected no sign of his quarry until a gloved hand clapped over his mouth from behind, pulling him back. Parrot’s balance faltered and he fell, smacking the rooftop audibly. A warm stream of blood shot from one of the thug’s nostrils as he regained his feet. Seconds later, Parrot realized a hard, blue fist had shattered his nose. A follow up blow sent him back to the rooftop, where he gratefully remained as velvety darkness enveloped him.

Turning back to the fight, Batman saw Batgirl leap and grip an overhead rope, swinging to slam her heels into Marlin, who collided violently with Bass. Both finks collapsed in a heap.

Pike retreated one step as Batman approached Batgirl. He smiled as Batman stepped past him in the dark and prepared to attack the Dark Knight from behind.

Meanwhile, Bass disengaged himself from Marlin and stood, only to be returned to the rooftop as one of Batgirl’s showgirl kicks impacted his jaw.

Pike stepped up to his intended victim with upraised hands, prepared to dispatch Batman. His plan changed abruptly when the backs of blue knuckles impacted his jaw, ushering him into the void.

Batgirl rested her hands on her knees as Marlin approached her. She retreated into a shadow as she saw Batman approaching from behind. Marlin pressed his attack, launching a probing jab at her. Batgirl gripped his wrist and spun, sending his body toward Batman who swung an arm, catching the fink’s throat in the crook of an elbow and slamming him to the rooftop. Marlin remained supine, moaning.

Batman and Batgirl quickly scanned the rooftop, looking for more finks to batter. Finding none, the heroes shook hands. “Now for Penguin and his henchgirl,” Batgirl said.

“Be careful, Batgirl. They’re here, watching us from somewhere, and they’re probably prepared for us, despite the failure of their surprise attack--”

“Look out!” Batgirl warned.

Her warning was, of course, too late.

She had chanced to spot a movement above them from the corner of her eye, but had instinctively turned toward Batman to warn him. Unfortunately, pivoting put her head directly into the path of an overhead beam suspended from two parallel cables.

Cora Sayers was perched upon it, guiding it rapidly toward Batman. She passed between the caped heroes as the beam slammed into their heads, knocking them both to the rooftop. Cora Sayers slid from her makeshift swing and regarded her victims balefully, turning around. Neither of the caped heroes moved.

“Batman and Batgirl, Pengy,” she said, gesturing toward the fallen heroes and favoring her employer with a mocking courtesy. “They’re all yours, with my compliments.”

“Well done, my swashbuckling sweetheart!” Penguin enthused. “You really lowered the boom on them, literally. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Thank you, Pengy,” she said, regarding him expectantly.

“Now, once the finks recover, we’ll rig these two to sail away into oblivion--forever. Wak, wak, wak!”

Batgirl was uncertain precisely which source of pain revived her. Oxygen deprivation had caused the tingling pins and needles sensation assailing her extremities, but the excruciating ache in her shoulders and the throbbing pain centered at the back of her head were both more pronounced. Pain seemed to intensify whenever her heart beat and she moaned, considering her situation as she turned her head to investigate the hiss of exhaled breath beside her.

There she saw Batman and as she watched, he gasped. “Oh, my head,” he muttered. Both caped crime fighters had been incorporated into the rigging of the faux man o’ war on the roof of the Quarterdeck Club.

“Batgirl,” Batman softly called.

The ache in Batgirl’s shoulders, the tingling in her limbs, and the evidence of her eyes told her she and Batman had both been bound by their wrists; elbows; and shoulders, and their limbs were splayed and stretched to their maximum. Their ankles, knees, and hips had been secured in the complex web of ropes used to manipulate the sails, and their shoulders bore their body weight.

“I can hear you,” Batgirl said softly, trying to sound cheerful as she went on curiously assessing their situation.

“I can barely move,” Batman said, shifting his weight mere millimeters.

As Batgirl duplicated the experiment, she felt her leg muscles protest and heard her breath hiss between her teeth. “Same here,” she admitted. “My shoulders hurt.” She closed her eyes and permitted herself to groan as she flexed her fingers. “What are we going to do?”

“You’re going to die, of course,” Penguin said, striding into view below his helpless captives. “Meanwhile, however, I hope you’re both not too uncomfortable. Wak, wak, wak!”

Cora Sayers led the finks in Penguin’s wake. “I wouldn’t be too concerned, Pengy,” she said. “They’ll soon be much more uncomfortable, and then it will all be over--for both of them.” The henchwoman and the finks laughed as they looked up to regard the captives and admire their handiwork.

“Gotham City will be much more comfortable,“ Batgirl said, “when we put all of your back behind bars where you belong!”

“Well said, Batgirl,” Batman complimented.

“You have to admire their spirit, Cora,” Penguin observed. “They’ll never admit they’re hopelessly doomed. Wak, wak, wak!”

“What’s your game this time, Penguin?” Batman demanded.

“I’m delighted you asked, Batman,” the criminal mastermind replied. “I know you both realize your bodies have been introduced into the rigging atop the Quarterdeck Club. Before the sun sets, this venue will have become infamous, since you will both have been disposed of here. Wak!”

“You’re going to murder us in broad daylight under the open sky?” Batman inquired.

“A bold and daring undertaking, to be sure,” Penguin confirmed. “It’s worthy of a criminal genius, such as myself. Oh, and I use the word ‘undertaking’ deliberately. Wak!”

“You’ve tried to murder all of us so many times,” Batgirl taunted.

“Indeed! You obviously don’t fully realize, Batgirl, that historical warships, upon which this layout is based, were machines powered by wind and muscle,” Penguin explained, extending his arm and gesturing to indicate all of the masts, yards, sails, and rigging. Penguin turned to his henchmen. “Finks, deploy all canvas to the mainmast!”

Batman and Batgirl exchanged glances as Penguin’s order sparked a glimmer of understanding that grew as the villain’s explanation continued.

“The square sail directly above the deck is the mainsail. It’s attached to the central, or main, mast. The mast closer to the bow, or front of the ship, is the foremast and the one closest to the stern, or back of the ship, is the mizenmast,” the villain explained. “Above the mainsail is the topsail and above that is the topgallant sail. The sail at the very top of each mast is the royal. Behind each of these four sails is a staysail which is set to keep the wind from tearing the sails to shreds. Each type of sail can be spread from each mast and referred to according to the sail type and corresponding mast.” As Penguin spoke, all four of the sails on the mainmast were put in place.

“I just love sailing,” Cora Sayers said as she gripped a handy rope and noted the slight additional strain the deployed sails put on the prisoners’ bodies. “The wind isn’t filling the sails, though.”

“It will, my piratical paramour,” Penguin promised. “Finks, man the braces and hold your position, pending my orders.” Penguin regarded the captives with a wicked grin. “Presently, the sails are squared, beautifully. In reality, port is the only place the sails remain perpendicular to the sides of the ship. The braces rotate the sails to capture the wind.”

“We’ll both be drawn and quartered if these sails are allowed to fill,” Batman said, making no attempt to hide the horror gripping him as he considered the grisly fate the Penguin had planned for him and for Batgirl.

“Precisely, Caped Crusader,” Penguin said. “I told you this historical machine was powered by muscle and wind. Well, wak! The arrangement I plan to set up puts these forces into delightful, diabolical opposition. As the wind fills the sails, it places tension on your bodies. They will begin to be very slowly torn apart. Before that task is completed, many of your ligaments and tendons will stretch until they snap; muscle will be torn from your bones; the bones themselves will be shattered in turn; and the ball and socket joints in your hips and shoulders will be slowly, painfully detached.”

“That’s horrible!” Batgirl said. “You’re an inhuman monster!”

“Indeed, my dear. You’re about to become a comely corpse, or bits of one. Wak, wak, wak! Consider the moving ship at sea. The braces must remain manned to catch the wind as it shifts, moving the craft along. This setup, of course, will remain stationary.” Penguin indicated the sails, rigging, and mast with a sweeping gesture. “Therefore, once we’ve positioned the sails to capture the prevailing winds, the two of you will be torn to pieces. Wak, wak, wak! Have you any last words before we send you sailing to oblivion?”

Batgirl was speechless. Anger held her muscles tense and unspeakable horror gripped her heart. Batman, despite similar feelings, managed a brief statement. “You’ll regret doing this, Penguin . . . eventually!”

“I rather doubt it,” Penguin disagreed. “Without your interference, my plans can go ahead smoothly and steadily. Meanwhile, I’d urge you both to pull yourselves together, while you can. Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin made no attempt to conceal his glee as he glanced at his waiting male minions. “All right, my fine, felonious finks! Now hear this! Proceed!”

The finks pushed, rotating the sails so the wind filled them, drawing the prisoners’ limbs outward and rigidly taut. Both Batman and Batgirl gasped as pain took their breath away.

“Batman’s muscles have been defined beautifully,” gushed Cora Sayers. “He looks magnificent!”

“Batgirl appears to be in excellent shape as well. We should be going. As the agonizing end of Batman and Batgirl stretches out, we have an Admiral and instructions for the delivery of our money to . . . er, deliver, as well as additional preparations to make for tomorrow. Come along, all of you.” He turned back to his captives and bowed elaborately. “Now then, my beauties,” Penguin said, “bon voyage! Wak, wak, wak!” He led the way to one of the hatches and began to descend.

Cora Sayers looked up at Batman and Batgirl before touching the fingertips of both her hands to her lips and blowing them each a parting kiss. Then, she turned to follow Penguin. The finks bound the braces in place and followed their leader, casting a last, longing look at Batgirl while favoring Batman with a knowing nod.

“They’re going, Batman,” Batgirl said, her words spoken sofly as she exhaled a labored breath. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Not yet, Batgirl, but I’m thinking.” Batman could not suppress a painful gasp.

“Hurry!” the heroine urged. “I don’t know how long I can hold myself together.” She fought to inhale a moment later as another painful groan escaped her lips.

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