Siren's Personal Isle

Batgirl was running as fast as she could, but didn't seem to be getting very far. Siren's mesmerized minions definitely were gaining on her. It surprised her, because from experience, she knew Siren's slaves usually were somewhat mechanical, even robotic, in their actions, and thus weren't very fast.

Then she made one of the most obvious observations of her crimefighting career.

It wasn't that they were any faster. The problem was that Batgirl was slower.

'It's not easy,' she thought, 'to run in sand.'

'DUH,' she immediately thought, as she also realized the purple boots with the spiked heels, which were so effective at helping to distract — and sometimes dispatch — male thugs, were a major liability in this setting.

There wasn't time, however, to stop and take them off. As the men chasing her drew closer and closer, she knew she had to make a decision.

'I can't stay ahead of them much longer.' The blue Tyrrhenian Sea gleamed in front of her as the late afternoon sun glanced off it.

'Not again,' Batgirl thought as all the water hazards she had faced came to mind. ‘My costume never dries out properly!’ she wryly decided. She wondered what sort of dangers lurked beneath this sea, but still, she knew she had no choice.

If she swam, maybe she eventually could swim around to the other side of the island and reach a safe harbor. If she stayed, it would only be a matter of time before Siren's minions caught up to her, and then what? She didn't want to think about what the Diabolical Diva might have in store for her

The Dark Knight Damsel dove into the water.

"Get her!" Siren ordered.

Batgirl pulled a pair of goggles from her utility belt and began swimming. As she did, she heard splash after splash behind her. She didn't look, but knew full well what that meant.

Still, she was quite confident she could swim faster than Siren's hypnotized henchmen, no matter how many of them the British beauty had. Even though she knew she could outdistance them easily, adrenaline made her swim as if she were on the anchor leg of an Olympic relay, at least for the first few hundred meters.

She soon calmed herself and began settling into a slower, yet steady, rhythm.

It was some time later when she began wrestling with a bigger problem.

‘What's next?’

Being able to swim all the way back to Sorrento was unlikely, if not impossible. Obviously, she couldn't return to where the Diabolical Diva was, or even anywhere close to it, because the Siren's spellbound sycophants would have been instructed to capture her.

She also remembered what Siren had said, about how she controlled the police, transportation and industry. So no matter where on Capri Batgirl resurfaced, she could be captured.

‘There's nowhere to go.’

As she pondered that, she noticed something else. Her legs were becoming very, very heavy, as fatigue began to grab hold. She looked back for the first time and couldn't see the shoreline anymore.

‘Where am I?’ she thought. She had no idea.

Then Batgirl noticed a shape in the water some twenty feet away. 'Could that be . . . a shark?!'

The Dominoed Daredoll decided that it wasn't, but worried what else it might be.

'A jellyfish?'

Batgirl began swimming, making as little splash as possible, on a perpendicular course away from the mysterious object.

Some thirty minutes later, Batgirl realized, ‘I don't know how much longer I can keep going!’ Her motion became more and more deliberate.

‘After all I’ve been through, is this how it’s going to end? To drown, to be lost at sea, all alone? For my fate to be unknown to the world, unless my corpse eventually washes up somewhere?'

Her thoughts turned to her father. 'It would be terrible for him to know I had died, but not knowing would be even worse! If—'

Then she saw it. A boat!

It appeared to be a decent-sized fishing boat, perhaps thirty or forty feet long. It also appeared to be headed straight toward her.

Her excitement at seeing another sign of life was tempered as she realized, ‘Could this be the Capri maritime police, dispatched by Siren to return me to her?’

Batgirl started swimming away from the vessel, but it was futile. There was no way for her to outdistance the boat as it drew ever closer. She resigned herself to becoming a passenger, but hoped, if necessary, she could overpower whoever was on board.

Finally, the boat pulled up alongside Batgirl.

"Signora Batgirl!" a male voice called.

‘Well, they know who I am,’ she thought. Batgirl didn't want to trust them, but didn't have much of a choice.

"Signora Batgirl!!" he shouted again.

She listened as carefully as possible. The voice didn't sound robotic. In fact, it seemed to contain plenty of humanity.

"Signora Batgirl!!!" he repeated. "We are here to rescue you!"

This caught the heroine by surprise. "What?" she answered as she pulled off her goggles and treaded water.

"You are Batgirl, no? You are very famous. We are here to help you. Please, get in, right now. We do not have much time."

Batgirl's first instinct was usually to trust nobody but herself. ‘Perhaps, however, this man is telling the truth. Perhaps not everyone on the island is in Siren's power.’

Besides, even if it was a ruse, Batgirl was in no condition to continue swimming. Her muscles were tired and it was getting dark. She was disoriented and it wouldn't be long before she succumbed to mental fatigue.

She returned her goggles to her belt and allowed herself to be pulled up into the boat.

Seconds after she climbed aboard, another man held out a pair of binoculars and motioned toward the horizon.

The first man took the offered binoculars, looked through them, turned to Batgirl and said, "It looks like one of Signora Circe's police boats."

Batgirl could feel several muscles in her body tense. She didn't know what might happen next.

The first man said urgently, "Get down, get down! You can't let them see you."

Batgirl's face still bore a worried look, but on the inside, she was smiling. ‘They are trying to help me.’

Her mind still was working quickly, so she said, "I'll hide. I'll lay flat on the deck and you can cover me with that tarp over there until they pass."

The men nodded and covered her up.

A few minutes, as well as the vessel, finally passed, and the men quickly removed the cover. Once they did, they discovered the exhausted heroine was sleeping.

Using sign language, the first man said, "No need to wake her. It will be easier this way."

The other man nodded.

Batgirl woke up about an hour later and found herself sitting in an easy chair with a towel draped over her shoulders.

Both of the men from the boat were in the room, as were two others. The one who had first spoken to her smiled as he saw Batgirl opening her eyes.

He was tall and in his mid-forties, with some silvery streaks in both his black hair and mustache.

"Hello," he said warmly. "I am Vittorio. Welcome to our, how you say, safe house."

"Safe house?" Batgirl asked.

"Yes," said the second man, who was younger. He also had dark hair, but was clean-shaven, with a thin nose. "I am Sandro and we all oppose the government of Signora Circe."

"That's right," said a third man, who appeared to be about twenty. "I am Francesco."

"And I am Renato," said the other man, who had a mustache and a thick beard. "We are so glad we found you."

"Not nearly as glad as I am," Batgirl said sheepishly as she threw off the towel, "but why aren't you all under Siren's spell? How do you all speak English so well?"

Vittorio smiled again. "It's a long story, Signora Batgirl."

"I'm not going anywhere," Batgirl said, grinning.

"Well, I guess it was about five months ago," Vittorio said. "One day, I noticed people, other men, acting very strange. They seemed to be in a trance. I then heard an odd sound in the air, but I couldn't quite place it. It seemed to be some kind of high-pitched whine, but I really couldn't tell what it was."

"Why not?" Batgirl asked.

"Because," he said with a smile, "I really couldn't hear it. You see, I have suffered from some hearing loss since I was a boy."

Batgirl’s face brightened with understanding. "So that's it! All of you are hearing-impaired to some degree. That's why Siren's stunning note didn't affect you!"

They all nodded their heads.

"I could hear it only a little bit," Sandro said. "I understand it is supposed to put one under a spell, but I guess none of us could hear it well enough to be affected."

"But we didn't dare let anyone else know," Francesco chimed in.

Renato added, "Yes, Signora Batgirl, we played along, as you would say."

"So that's why you all learned English so well," the Curved Crusader reasoned.

"Yes," Vittorio answered. "To not learn it would have put us under suspicion, so we learned as best we could."

"You've done quite a good job, trust me," Batgirl said.

"Oh, we do trust you, very much!” Sandro said.

Batgirl smiled and thought to herself, ‘I guess I shouldn’t use slang expressions around people who have just learned English.’

She said, “You are able to understand me so well.”

Vittorio said, “Some of us can hear you a little bit, plus we all know how to read lips.” He didn’t add that lip-reading was especially enjoyable when the speaker’s lips looked like Batgirl’s.

Sandro added, “We were hoping you might be able to help us, but we didn’t know how to reach you.”

“I know. I’m not exactly in the Yellow Pages,” Batgirl admitted. She realized she had made another American-centric reference when she saw the men’s puzzled looks. “I mean, I realize I’m not easy to find. How many are in your movement?”

“We believe there are about three or four other hearing-impaired men here, on the other side of the island,” Francesco noted. “We wish we had more. It’s hard to fight with these numbers.”

The other men nodded.

“I have another question,” Batgirl said. “What about the women on the island? Why have they gone along with this? I can understand the men, obviously, but it can’t have been feasible for Siren to hypnotize every woman individually.”

“There is a very good reason, Signora Batgirl,” Vittorio said. He then told Batgirl of the day Siren had given all the women of Capri a demonstration of her awesome power.

On this particular day, as had become her custom, Siren had pirated all the television signals and thus, her message was being broadcast on every station.

Siren, wearing her traditional silver Greco-Roman gown, was reclining on a couch in a large room. One man stood behind her and rubbed her back, while another massaged her feet.

"I realize many of you women out there haven't had a chance to meet me face-to-face," Siren said, smiling at the camera. "I suspect some of you may have thoughts of rebelling against my regime.

"Well, for all of you who haven't seen the light, let this be a warning. Angelo!"

The man who had been massaging her back stopped and looked at her face.

"Do you see that chair on the other side of this room?"

"Yes, Siren."

"I want you to walk over there, stand on top of it, and then pull down the rope attached to the ceiling and place it around your neck. Can you do that?"

"If it pleases you, Siren."

Angelo walked across the room, stood atop the chair and placed the crude noose around his neck.

"Enrico," Siren called.

"Yes?" responded the man massaging her feet as he looked up at the Diabolical Diva.

"Would you be so kind as to walk over to Angelo and kick aside that chair upon which he is standing? I would appreciate it very much," Siren said as she stroked Enrico's face.

"Yes, Siren. Your wish is my command."

The evil Englishwoman instructed her cameraman to follow Enrico as he walked across the room. He was a mere five feet away from Angelo's chair when Siren yelled, "Enrico, stop!"

Enrico stood as if he were frozen in place.

"Angelo, remove that rope from yourself, climb down from that chair and return here at once. You will return here as well, Enrico. I want the two of you to finish my daily rubdown."

The two mesmerized men did as they were told. As they resumed massaging their mythological mistress, she looked into the camera.

"I trust all of you ladies have gotten the message," she said, grinning wickedly. "I can induce any male to commit suicide. Question my authority, ladies, and it could be your husband, brother, father, or even your son who pays the price. Or perhaps I merely could have someone assassinate you on my command. The choice is yours, ladies. I trust you all will make the right one. Don't make waves on MY island."

Siren laughed at her pun as the picture faded out and the TV stations returned to their normal programming.

"So you see why everyone is scared," Vittorio said to Batgirl.

She nodded. “Is this house your base of operations?”

“Yes,” Renato said. “You see, Vittorio and I both have a wife and children, and we try to get back home and see them when we can, but it’s not easy.”

“We just wish it could be like it was before,” Vittorio added.

“Have you contacted the authorities on the mainland?” Batgirl asked.

“Yes, we have,” Sandro replied. “They didn’t believe us. Even if they had believed something was wrong, their first response would have been to contact the police, who are now under the control of Signora Circe.”

Vittorio shook his head. “I– we don’t understand how such an incantevole woman could be so evil.”

Batgirl could only nod. She had no answer.

“I thank you all for rescuing me,” she said, “but I must leave soon. I have to find the location of her hideout — or more likely — hideouts. I’ll try to help you as much as I can, but I must be honest. I usually work alone. It’s nothing against you. That’s just how I do things.”

“Here are some addresses where you might be able to find us,” Vittorio said, handing her a piece of paper. “Good luck.”

‘Yeah, I might need it,’ Batgirl thought.

THE NEXT DAY . . .

The midday sun was flooding Sirena's huge bedroom when she finally awakened.

‘Another day in paradise, she thought as she stretched and looked out the window at the beach. ‘Now, this is the kind of lifestyle I expected after Siren's experiment transformed me into her apprentice!’

Every night she performed in concert to packed houses of adoring fans at the Lorelei Circe Arena. Afterward, she could go out with any man she wanted, a different one every night. "Just so it doesn't get boring," she liked to say.

Once again, the seductive singer had changed her look. She again was a non-blonde, as her hair was a huge brunette mane. Her skin featured an attractive and impeccable tan, born from several months of enjoying the Capri sun.

She put on a white tank top and blue jeans, both very tight-fitting to show off her curves, and meandered onto the deck right outside her room. It had a breathtaking view of the shoreline.

This was only one of several properties she and Siren were using as residences in Capri, but it was by far Sirena's favorite. The arena was easily accessible, only about ten minutes away by car.

Plus, 'You can't beat the scenery,' Sirena thought with a smile as she noticed several of Siren's muscular personal bodyguards sunning themselves on the beach. Their mistress played in the nearby surf. Sirena could see a photographer taking pictures of the evil enchantress as she lounged in the water.

For a woman who emphatically had stated months earlier that she was not a mermaid, Siren almost looked like one. The entrancing Englishwoman was reclining in the shallow surf, with half of her body submerged. She wore a yellow bikini that almost seemed to be the color of gold in the noontime sun, as well as several very thin necklaces and one of her most devilish smiles.

All the while, a photographer snapped away, the same one who had been shooting pictures of her when she had been confronted by Batgirl the day before.

Siren then stood up, the sun glinting off both her bikini and her wet skin, and struck another pose, this one of a woman in complete command. The water had made her slicked-back brunette hair appear jet black, a sharp contrast to her semi-tanned body. Finally, she emerged from the water, the photographer still snapping away at her every move.

"That is quite enough, Giorgio," she said. "As always, I thank you for your efforts, although you also should be thanking me for giving you such a lovely canvas with which to work." Siren placed her hands on her firm abdomen.

"Ah, yes, the pleasure is always mine, beautiful signora," he replied. "I will develop these now."

"You do that, Giorgio. I think the closeups of myself will look smashing on the new currency." Siren turned to the other men and said, "Guards? I wish to dry off . . . immediately, that is."

The men who had been lying on the beach instantly snapped to attention, each producing a towel for the Siren. She took one, stroked the cheek of the man who had given it to her, and began drying off. It was only then that she noticed Sirena there to greet her on the sand.

"Hello, Sirena, nice of you to join us," Siren said with an edge to her voice. "I am so glad you have taken time from your busy schedule to grace us with your presence."

Sirena answered Siren's sarcasm with some of her own, following Siren as she began walking toward the house.

"I don't see Batgirl's presence anywhere," the younger, but equally beautiful brunette said. "I saw her on the beach before I left for the arena yesterday. She dove in the water and easily escaped. Isn't that about the size of it?"

"That purple pain in the arse slipped away for the moment, but I am certain my minions will locate her again," Siren said with a dismissive wave of her right hand. "That is, if she survived. For all we know, perhaps some sea creature found her to be a tasty morsel."

"How can you be so sure she'll be found?" Sirena asked.

"Young lady, while you still were sleeping, I took the liberty of making yet another broadcast."

By this time, the two sonic sorceresses had reached the house, followed by several of Siren's bodyguards, who also functioned as servants. Once inside the house, they were met by an attractive blonde woman, about the same height as Siren.

"Annabella, will you be so kind as to play the DVD I made this morning?"

"Your wish is my command," she replied. The sycophant popped the disc into a player, picked up a remote control and pushed some buttons.

On a TV screen, Siren was reclining on a luxurious couch. The backdrop was completely black, because the sinister seductress believed it best brought out the green in her gorgeous eyes. She was dressed in almost her full Siren regalia, with her classic silver Greco-Roman dress, silver sandals, silver earrings and a silver bracelet on her upper left arm. The only thing missing was her horizontal bouffant, as she knew she would be swimming later.

"Hello, citizens," she said, staring into the camera. "This is your ruler, Lorelei Circe, the Siren. Before I give you an important message, I believe a little maintenance is in order."

Siren opened her mouth as the camera came closer. She unleashed her supersonic note, held it for about about twenty seconds, and then let it fade.

"I trust all of you enjoyed that musical interlude," she said with a smile. "Now, onto the important business at hand. I want you all to be aware that an enemy of the State is at large."

At that point, a photograph of Batgirl flashed on the screen.

"Her name is Batgirl. She is 1.6 meters tall, with long red hair. She wears a purple costume with a matching cowl."

Batgirl's picture disappeared and a closeup of the Siren again filled the screen.

"Oh, I should add she has one other distinguishing characteristic. She is rather annoying. Anyone with information on her whereabouts should contact the nearest police precinct immediately!

"You now may resume basking in the glow of my benevolent rule. Cheerio!"

Siren had taken the remote from Annabella while her message was playing. She stopped the DVD and beamed as she looked at the freeze-frame image of herself.

"As you can see, Sirena, I have put out an A. P. B., as you Americans would say, on Batgirl. She will not be able to hide very long from my island-wide network of obedient slaves."

"But what if she does?" Sirena asked.

"It is very simple, Sirena," Siren said. She then glanced at the other woman in the room.

"Annabella? Do I have any personal appearances scheduled for tonight?"

Annabella picked up a small notebook and quickly flipped through it. "No, you do not, mistress," she said in a monotone. "Do you want me to schedule one?"

"Oh, no, Annabella," Siren said with a laugh. "I will be attending Sirena's concert at my arena tonight." Siren looked again at her protégée.

"If Batgirl still is at large, she undoubtedly will try to infiltrate your concert, especially because I already have let her know about it."

"Just like she tried to ruin my concert back in Gotham City," Sirena bitterly offered.

"Exactly, young lady . . . but once again, we will be more than ready for her." Siren smiled wickedly. "You get your voice warmed up, Sirena. I shall take care of everything."

THAT NIGHT, AT THE LORELEI CIRCE ARENA . . .

‘I suppose this is one of the reasons I have a secret identity,’ Barbara thought as she purchased a ticket. Obviously, Siren hadn’t broadcast a photo of Barbara Gordon, only of Batgirl. In fact, with her short black hair, Barbara Gordon could blend in among the women of Capri, many of whom had her color and style of hair. The problem was, there didn’t seem to be that many women going to this particular show.

That wasn’t surprising, as Barbara knew. For obvious reasons, men tended to be more interested than women in both Sirena’s and Siren’s performances. In fact, she remembered the time Batgirl had interrupted one of Sirena’s concerts back in Gotham City.

She knew she couldn’t use that same tactic tonight, not after the way Siren had instructed “her” citizens earlier that day. Perhaps, she reasoned, she could follow Sirena after the show. Maybe the young songstress would lead Batgirl to Siren’s main hideout. For a second, Batgirl wondered if the lethal Londiniumite perhaps had set up shop at the island’s famed Blue Grotto.

‘No,’ she quickly decided. ‘Fitting, but not feasible.’

Barbara found her seat. In due course, the house lights dimmed.

Batgirl couldn't believe her eyes at Sirena’s grand entrance. Sirena was being carried onstage, Cleopatra-style, by several muscular and obviously hypnotized men. The Diabolical Diva's second-in-command wore a flowing dress of mostly magenta that showed off her sleek legs as well as her tremendous tan.

Except for the entrance, Barbara had literally seen this show before. She couldn’t deny that Sirena was a talented vocalist, but she wasn’t here to enjoy the concert. She did notice, however, that once again the audience seemed to be totally enthralled by Sirena’s performance.

The next two hours, including an intermission, were difficult ones, as Barbara tried to wait patiently, her mind racing. Batgirl always had supreme confidence in her abilities, but ‘I’ve never faced odds quite like this before,’ she thought, feeling as if the whole island was against her, except for a handful of men.

‘At the moment, there’s nothing they can do for me.’ Batgirl didn’t want to put civilians in harm’s way, plus, she was used to working alone. Although she occasionally received assistance from her costumed colleagues, Lieutenant Mooney or others, Batgirl was quite willing to rely upon herself in the field. She appreciated having Alfred, her father and the rest of the police serving as support and back-up, but Batgirl tried to keep others out of the line of fire. It was easier not to have to worry about them.

Finally, Sirena finished the last of her encores. As Sirena was carried off the stage, the same way she had entered it, Barbara dashed into the nearby toilette per signore and quickly changed into the Batgirl costume she had hidden there at the beginning of the show. She clambered out the window and found herself a position where she could monitor the backstage door.

Sirena exited that door, still being borne by several hypnotized men, to a waiting limousine about fifteen feet away.

‘Wow, she is carrying this diva thing as far as she can!’ Batgirl thought.

After her mesmerized servants lowered her gently to the ground, Sirena kissed each man and then tapped one of them on the chest. He entered the back seat of the limo with the sinful sonic sorceress.

Batgirl took in the entire scene with amazement, but quickly re-focused. She calmly crept over to a storage shed, where she had stashed her second makeshift Batgirlcycle hours earlier after breaking the lock. She grabbed the cycle and started it up.

From experience, Batgirl knew that tailing someone wasn’t easy. One had to stay close enough not to lose the person’s trail, but far enough away so the person wouldn’t become suspicious. She was maintaining a decent amount of separation, when she noticed a car about the same distance behind her as she was behind Sirena.

It didn’t appear to be a police car, but . . .

‘Maybe it’s an unmarked one.’

Soon, another car came out of a side street and took its place behind Batgirl . . . then another and another.

‘Well, this is no coincidence.’

Up ahead of Batgirl, the limo carrying Sirena was starting to accelerate. So was Batgirl, but more so to avoid her sudden pursuers than to catch up with Sirena.

That’s when it happened. A marked police car, sirens blaring, turned onto the highway right in front of Batgirl, blocking her path.

‘All right. What now?’ Batgirl instinctively jerked the wheel to the left and veered onto a side street as the cars tailing her continued the chase.

Suddenly, three motorcycles and a small truck blocked her path.

‘Another dead end,’ she thought as her motorbike skidded to a stop.

There was nowhere to go. She thought about running into one of the nearby houses, but ‘they’re probably all in Siren’s power or afraid. None of them will help me—’

That thought was interrupted by a tingling sensation on the back of Batgirl’s neck. She then slumped over onto the handlebars.

A man in a police uniform standing behind her tapped a cell phone clipped to his ear.

“As you have ordered, it has been done, Signora Circe,” he said. “I just shot Batgirl with my stun gun. She is unconscious.”

“Splendid, Chief Constable Salerno. I would give raises to all of you, if the money from the treasury weren’t earmarked for better causes. You and your men will bring her to Mount Solaro. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Signora Circe. Your wish is my command.”

LATER THAT NIGHT, IN SIREN’S MOUNTAINTOP BASE OF OPERATIONS . . .

Batgirl awakened to find herself encased in a cylindrical tube about eight feet high, which was open at the top. It was so narrow, however, that her arms were practically pinned to her sides. The room itself seemed to be divided in two halves, although Batgirl could only guess at how large it was because she could not see behind her, thanks to her cramped quarters.

One half of the room, the side Batgirl was on, contained an array of television monitors as well as computers with digital readouts. Batgirl couldn't see those, but with the small amount of peripheral vision available to her, she could tell there were several similar cylindrical tubes flanking hers.

The opposite side of the room was just that — pretty much the antithesis of Batgirl's half. The only concession to technology, and a minor one at that, was an old-style overhead projector, coupled with an even older-looking screen.

Otherwise, it resembled the sitting room from a mid-20th century country club, with several large leather chairs, a few smaller velour ones, and a large world map on the wall.

Batgirl also noticed numerous men in the room, some standing motionless well to her left, and some at attention a long way to her right. All seemed to be wearing military uniforms, but instead of the usual insignia on the upper arms of the uniform, indicating rank, there instead were musical notes.

When Siren saw that Batgirl was awake, she immediately walked over to her nemesis. The English enchantress was wearing a sleeveless black dress with a silver brooch on her left shoulder, a short black skirt, and black pantyhose. Siren hadn't had time that day to have her bouffant maintained, so she instead wore a large white fur hat in an attempt to conceal the lack of her trademark hairstyle.

Batgirl wanted to move her arms and shake a fist at the Diabolical Diva as she approached, but the Curved Crusader quickly realized it wasn't possible. That fact made her angry expression even more intense as Siren began smiling wickedly.

Siren laughed as she noticed Batgirl trying to hold back her emotions.

"Tsk, tsk," Siren said as the two green-eyed beauties glared at one another. "You cannot restrain yourself, can you Batgirl? That's one reason why I made sure you are quite contained, for now and forever."

"I'll find a way out of this, Siren!" Batgirl exclaimed. "I always do, and then I'll put an end to your unjust reign!"

"I do not think you will be overthrowing anybody anytime soon, Batgirl, especially without your precious utility belt. Once my plan has been put into action, you merely will be a silent witness to history."

Batgirl was a bit taken aback. She knew Siren always was full of bravado, but this sounded very foreboding.

"So what exactly do you mean by that?" Batgirl asked, trying, as always, to get her opponent to reveal details of the villain’s plans.

Siren ignored Batgirl's comment. She hated talking about the Dominoed Daredoll as much as she despised Batgirl herself.

"For openers, as you know, Batgirl, many of your foes over the years have sought world domination. I am different than the rest, however, as I possess the ability to attain that which I seek." Siren pointed at her throat and laughed.

"You won't be able to take over the wuhlld," Batgirl said, angrily imitating Siren's accent. "You realize that, don't you?"

Batgirl's arms were starting to become very uncomfortable because of the limited amount of space. The heroine tried to ignore the sensation and instead stared at the lethal lovely from Londinium.

"Why not, Batgirl? As you can see, I've been able to do it on a limited scale here on Capri – excuse me, Anthemoessa. Soon, all of the governments of the world will be under my gorgeous thumb."

"Annabella," Siren called out. "Please show Batgirl my visual presentation, as per my previous instructions."

The blonde woman stepped forward and said, "Yes, Siren. Your wish is my command."

Siren pointed at her and told Batgirl, “Annabella used to be the mayor of Capri town, until I convinced her that being my personal assistant would be far more rewarding."

Annabella began putting transparencies on the projector, one after the other.

As she did so, Siren commented. They were pictures of landmarks---Chuckingham Palace, the Colosseum, the Eyeful Tower and even Gotham City Hall.

"Shortly, all of these places, and all of their governments, will be under my control," Siren said, raising her arms as if in triumph and then sitting on one of the leather recliners. "Once they are, the world will be a much better place, Batgirl. Just imagine a world with no wars, no conflicts and no strife, a world in which everyone will be united in a single, most worthy goal — pleasing me."

"You'll never be able to do it, Siren," Batgirl said. "Whether or not it's me, somebody will stop you. You can count on that.

"Won’t you ever learn?" Batgirl added.

Siren angrily turned around in her chair and stared at Batgirl. "That's quite enough," she said curtly. "Fortunately, you will not be heard from much longer."

The ravishing rogue walked behind Batgirl and pressed a button on the wall. A hole appeared in the ceiling and a huge spigot was lowered from the aperture. The pain in Batgirl's arms and shoulders from being squeezed into such a tight spot was beginning to affect her, and she could barely crane her neck to look up.

Siren noticed this and chuckled.

"I am so sorry, Batgirl, that you are unable to see what is going on above you. I will give you a play-by-play, as you Yanks would say.

"You are about to experience liquid plastic being poured over your body. The plastic will harden slowly, which is why your ability to move had to be limited. I wouldn't want a sudden movement to ruin the effect."

"What effect?" Batgirl asked.

"Once the plastic hardens, you then will be coated with a veneer of crushed marble, to give you the proper appearance," Siren said as she walked toward Batgirl and came to a stop in front of the Curved Crusader's temporary prison.

“I thought you were the Siren, not Medusa,” Batgirl said, referring to the mythical, snake-haired, female monster. Anyone who looked at her was turned to stone.

Siren laughed at the comparison.

"Well, Medusa and I do have one thing in common. Our gaze is enough to stop people in their tracks, albeit for different reasons. You really should thank me, Batgirl, because I will be immortalizing you forever. Think of it — the body of which you are so proud will be preserved for generations of my loyal subjects. Maybe I'll display you in my garden, or perhaps at the entrance to my mansion. One of my mansions, that is."

“Why do you have these other tubes here?” Batgirl asked.

“Those could be needed for future use,” Siren responded, “that is, if any of your heroic friends from Gotham City are so impolitic to oppose my rule.”

"Don't you know by now I'll figure a way out of this?" Batgirl said, but it was as much a pep talk to herself as it was a warning for the Diabolical Diva.

Siren laughed loudly.

"You will not escape this time, Batgirl, I promise you," she said with a sneer. "At least, however, I suppose it will not be too painful of an end. The liquid plastic eventually will suffocate you. . .but until it does, you will be a living, breathing statue."

Batgirl gritted her teeth almost instinctively, yet said nothing.

"What is the matter, Batgirl? Cat got your tongue?" Siren threw back her head with a smile. "Hardly. That Feline Fraud doesn't have the intelligence to orchestrate your demise so efficiently, not like I. Annabella, start the process."

"Yes, Siren." She pushed several buttons on the electronic console behind Batgirl. The plastic began seeping out of the spigot toward the cylindrical tube.

"I must admit, Batgirl, that planning your extinction has helped me work up an appetite," Siren said. "The only thing I don't like about this lovely island is the food here is so much better than in my country, which makes it hard for me to maintain this incredible figure. In fact, I have a yearning this very moment for some authentic Italian pizza, a food my countrymen never have been able to perfect. I think I shall wash it down with some limoncello. How does that sound, boys?"

Every man in the room nodded his head in approval.

"You boys on the left, come with me," the evil beauty commanded. "You, too, Annabella. You boys on the right shall remain here and make sure our guest remains comfortable. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Signora Siren," they said in unison.

“Batgirl, I have one word for you before I depart,” Siren said.

“What’s that?” Batgirl asked angrily.

“Plastics.” Siren laughed uproariously. “I just love your American cinema!

"Cheerio, Batgirl," Siren said as she waved goodbye.

Batgirl could feel her arms becoming numb from remaining in one place for so long. The first drops of plastic fell upon her cowl.

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