Not a Silent Night

CHRISTMASTIME IN GOTHAM CITY.

THE GOOD CITIZENS CELEBRATE THE SEASON BY BESTOWING GIFTS UPON ONE ANOTHER . . .

. . . AND WHO BETTER EXEMPLIFIES AND SYMBOLIZES THAT TRADITION THAN THE GREATEST GIFT-GIVER OF THEM ALL, SANTA CLAUS?

BUT WHAT'S THIS?

AT LEAST ONE SANTA CLAUS AND HIS BAG OF GOODIES HAVE A NEFARIOUS DESTINATION!

The man in the red Santa suit pressed a buzzer at the door of a large warehouse. Moments later, the metal door retracted and he walked into the building. He silently went down a flight of stairs to the basement.

After a door at the base of the steps opened, he entered a large room. Had his eyes not been glazed over, he might have been blinded momentarily by the light coming from the silver wrapping paper that festooned every wall in the huge room. The only furniture was a silver couch with gray stripes. Boxes, also wrapped in bright silver, lay underneath a green Christmas tree, which was pretty much the only counterpoint to the dominant color scheme. The tree itself was barren except for some balls, which were, of course, silver.

A woman stood next to the tree with her back to the Santa, pretending she hadn't heard her visitor arrive. Her clothing fit right in with the rest of the landscape, as she was wearing a two-piece, sleeveless coordinated silver dress.

"I have the jewels you wanted, ma'am," he said in a robotic tone.

The beautiful brunette turned around, revealing her dazzling green eyes and silver earrings, shaped like miniature Christmas trees. "May I see those jewels?" she asked.

"Of course, Siren." He walked over to her, lifted the cover of one box, and inside were various expensive jewels, including a diamond necklace, a jade pendant and an emerald bracelet. She examined them with an evil smile.

"Splendid," she said as she closed the box and gave it back to the ersatz Saint Nick. "Put them under the tree with the other boxes."

"Yes, Siren." He did as he was instructed.

"You are certain that no one followed you, correct?"

"Yes."

"Smashing." ‘I do want them to be followed,’ she thought, ‘but not just yet.’ Siren returned her attention to her latest dupe.

"You, of course, will remember none of this. You will remember, however, to call in sick tomorrow morning. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Siren."

"Excellent. You may leave now."

"Is there anything else I can do for you, beautiful Siren?" he pleaded. "I exist only to serve you."

"That's a wonderful sentiment during this holiday season," the Siren said as she patted him on the head and then stroked his fake beard, "but I'm afraid I no longer have any use for you. I am expecting another delivery tonight. Now go. That is an order, my good man."

The Diabolical Diva smiled widely as the stunned Santa left the room, walking stiffly.

SHORTLY THEREAFTER, ANOTHER SEASONAL SANTA HAS COMPLETED HIS SHIFT AT LACEY'S DEPARTMENT STORE IN DOWNTOWN GOTHAM CITY.

"Tough day, Ron?" the night-shift security guard said to the costumed Santa Claus.

"Not really, Ed. I really enjoy doing this. Seeing the smiles on the kids' faces makes all the effort worth it," Ron said as he removed his white beard and red hat.

"You going home now?"

"I don't know. I just don't feel like leaving yet, for some reason. I guess I'm just tired. I think I’ll sit for a while."

"Can you do me a favor and lock up this room on your way out?"

"Sure," Ron responded. "See you tomorrow."

The guard had just left when Ron's cell phone rang and a female voice with a British accent said, "Good evening, sir."

As soon as he heard the Siren's voice, he immediately fell under her spell, as per her post-hypnotic suggestion from weeks ago.

"Yes, ma'am," he said obediently.

By now, the Siren had retired to her bedroom and was calling her latest dupe from an old-fashioned rotary phone. Sirena, her young accomplice, once had asked her why she still had so many rotary phones, and the English enchantress had replied, "There's nothing wrong with going retro, my dear. After all, the two of us ARE throwbacks to ancient mythology."

Siren was clad in a grey slip that was almost — what else — silver, with a silk robe adorning her, as well as full-length stockings. Hoops dangled from her ears as she wore a knowing look on her face.

"Is there anyone else with you in the room?" she asked.

"No," the hypnotized Santa responded in a monotone.

"You know who this is, my captivated Kris Kringle, do you not?"

"Yes, of course, Siren."

"It's time to put your contribution to Operation Merry Christmas To Me into effect. Are you wearing your full costume at the moment?"

"No, Siren, I am not."

"Put it on and proceed as you have been instructed. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Siren."

He put the phone in the pocket of his red suit, but did not end the call. He put his beard and hat back on, then walked blank-faced to the elevator. He got in and pushed button number five. The jewelry department was on the fifth floor.

The guard was making his rounds on the fifth floor when he saw the colleague he had just spoken to minutes earlier. The watchman, however, immediately realized something was wrong when the suited Santa didn't respond to him. Instead, the image of Father Christmas just kept walking toward him.

The guard didn't have a gun, so he gathered himself and all his courage as his co-worker inexorably drew closer. Just as Ron came within reach, Santa shocked the guard by pulling out, not a weapon, but a cellphone.

"Your next victim is right here," he said to the person on the other end of the phone. Ron then placed the phone in front of the guard's face.

Siren's stunning note, even coming through slightly muffled over the cellphone, quickly entranced the guard.

"You will permit Santa Claus to take whatever he wants. Is that clear?" Siren's voice said over the phone.

The guard nodded and stepped aside as Siren's red-clad minion began rifling through the glass jewelry display cases.

On the other end of the phone, the heinous hypnotist smiled and chuckled. ‘This never gets old,’ she thought.

She began daydreaming about what jewels her newest gift-giver would bring her. ‘I just hope he doesn't steal something I already have,’ she thought as she walked to the main room of the newly-abandoned warehouse, which she had converted into the latest hideout for herself and Sirena.

Just then, Siren heard the buzzer.

"That was fast," she said out loud, both surprised and skeptical.

"Sorry, but I think this one is for me, Siren," another voice said.

Siren's young partner in crime walked into the room.

The beautiful blonde was clad in a Santa suit of her own, although it quickly tapered off below her hips, showing off her shapely legs, clad in fishnet stockings, to full advantage. Sirena went to a small console in the wall and pressed a button, opening the door.

Within thirty seconds, another Santa was walking toward her, in a trance just like his predecessor.

"I have the clothes you wanted, Sirena," he said in a monotone as he presented the boxes to her.

Sirena removed a pair of gold lame pants from one box. "Awesome," she said, "absolutely awesome." In her enthusiasm, she kissed him on the cheek. "I can't thank you enough."

Her smile, though, gave way as her brow furrowed. She pointed and said, "Now, put those boxes in the corner. Is that understood?"

The obedient Santa nodded and did as he was told. When he finished, he again walked over to Sirena.

"Your work here is done," she said to him. "After you walk out that door, you will come out of your trance and proceed home. Is that understood?"

He nodded.

"Good. Then run along now . . . but thanks again."

She turned to Siren and said, "This is SO awesome."

"This is why prior planning pays off, my dear. This would not be possible if it weren't for those two days last month, when we infiltrated Kringle Kollege in New Guernsey and its two-day crash course for aspiring store Santas."

"Yeah!" Sirena exclaimed. "You found that on the Internet on our last night in Italy. We were able to hypnotize them and then trigger them with post-hypnotic suggestions."

"We call them sleepers, Sirena, mesmerized minions we can activate at any time for our own nefarious needs."

"By the way, I'm glad we're keeping all of these instead of selling them. This is my kind of Christmas. Although . . . I am a little surprised that you’re doing this, Siren. Usually you're all about world domination, like when we were in Capri."

"Well, after all we've been through this year, I have decided there's nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of our labours, that is, of our dupes' labours. You are, however, quite correct, Sirena, because I also have much bigger objectives in mind. In fact, I may be able to set another of my plans in motion as early as tomorrow."

"So what else are you planning?" Sirena said with an eager look on her face.

Deep down, Siren really didn't want to tell Sirena what her overall plan was, but ever since the disagreement between them that had helped lead to Siren's capture, the veteran vocal vixen had realized it wasn't in her best interests to keep too many secrets from her protégée. As much as it sometimes pained her, Siren now knew she had to treat Sirena as an equal.

"For openers, Sirena, these Christmas capers will attract the attention of that vexing vigilante, Batgirl, as well as her friend, the equally contemptible constable, Left-tenant Mooney."

Siren crossed her arms over her chest and looked skyward before she continued. "Once they have been drawn into OUR trap, we can dispose of them both at the same time, thus freeing us from every having to worry again about two of our feckless, female, foes. Once that's done, we then will be able to turn our attention to ravaging and pillaging on a grand scale."

"Just how do you plan to do that?" Sirena said.

"Honestly, my dear, I haven't decided yet. I am considering several possibilities, and soon will figure out which one can best achieve our objectives. I promise I will notify you once we have flushed out our odious adversaries. Until then, I suspect you won't mind accumulating more clothes and jewels."

"That sounds like a plan to me, Siren," the talented temptress said, smiling, as she quickly grabbed two more boxes and departed for her bedroom. "In the meantime, I have a lot more clothes to try on."

THE NEXT MORNING, AT GOTHAM CITY POLICE HEADQUARTERS, THOSE ON THE SIDE OF GOOD ARE MAKING THEIR OWN PLANS.

Commissioner Gordon pounded his fist on his desk. "That's makes six department store robberies in the past two days," he said with a worried look.

"And in every case, all that was taken were jewelry and women's clothing," Chief O'Hara added.

"Yes, and the security cameras were turned off, perhaps indicating an inside job. You know what this means, Chief?"

"Don't say it, Commissioner," O'Hara said pleadingly. "Don't say it!"

"Yes, Chief, it's our worst nightmare. The Siren has returned to Gotham City."

"And just when we thought we might have a quiet holiday season, like the one we had last year, remember?"

"I certainly do, Chief. That may be one of the reasons Batman and Robin are currently vacationing, figuring the arch-criminals and supervillains again would take off for Christmas."

Gordon shook his head. "I've called for Lieutenant Mooney. She should be here momentarily."

As if on cue, the red-headed policewoman walked into Gordon's office with a stern expression. She was the leader of the department’s standing anti-Siren task force.

"Lieutenant," the Commissioner said, "I understand you've already begun researching what the Siren's next targets might be."

"Yes, Commissioner. We've discovered other department stores that haven't been hit yet, and the task force plans to stake out those outlets tonight, in hopes a perp will lead us to the Siren."

"Leave it to the Siren to corrupt a holiday tradition and turn it into an avenue for evil," Chief O'Hara said, shaking his head despondently.

Commissioner Gordon paid no attention to him and addressed Mooney instead. "I like the idea, Lieutenant. There's only one thing. I'd you like to include Batgirl and have her stake out one of the stores."

Mooney was surprised. While Diana had worked with Batgirl many times, it was rare for the Commissioner himself to suggest it. Usually, Batgirl joined in on her own. By some unknown method, she seemed to be able to keep one step ahead of the Gotham City Police Department. This time, though, the Commissioner wanted to include her from the beginning.

"That's great, Commissioner," she said. "I'll contact her, right away."

As Diana left the office, Gordon's expression became pained. He again was torn between trying to protect both the headstrong daughter he loved and his city. Yet, he knew out of all of Gotham City's many heroes, Batgirl had the most experience dealing with Siren and that she was much better equipped than Batman and Robin to take on the hypnotic villainess.

This realization, however, didn't keep the Commissioner from uttering, "Dear me," as he put his head in his hands.

"Something wrong, Commissioner?" O'Hara asked.

"No, Chief, nothing at all," Gordon said with a sigh.

That night, Batgirl and various officers of the GCPD's Anti-Siren Task Force were deployed at various department stores.

Yet nothing happened.

It was 10:45 the following evening, when Lieutenant Mooney, who was stationed at Thimbel's department store, got the call on her police communicator. It was Officer Finch, stationed at Bullseye, another department store.

"Lieutenant, we have a 523 in progress here," Finch radioed. That was the GCPD code for a burglary. "The suspect is wearing a full Santa Claus suit and he seems oblivious to almost everything. He is filling his sack with jewelry by the handful."

"Good work. You know what to do next, right, Officer?"

"Roger, Lieutenant. Once he's finished, I'll follow him out of the building and tail him."

"Yes, but also give me a fix on where he is. Once we arrive, Batgirl and I will take it from there."

"Are you sure? I can go with you."

"No, we will handle it. That's an order, Officer." Mooney still remembered how Finch and another of her Task Force officers had become the first female victims of the Siren's hypnosis. The lovely Lieutenant had vowed to never again put her underlings in that situation again, if it could at all be helped. Diana would have preferred to face Siren all by herself, but she knew it would be futile to try to exclude Batgirl.

This time, of course, Batgirl officially was part of the GCPD operation, as ordered by the Commissioner.

"Batgirl, this is Lieutenant Mooney," Diana said as she radioed the Caped Crusadress.

"I already heard, Diana," said Batgirl, who was on the police frequency as well. "I'll meet up with you as soon as possible."

Batgirl and Mooney began trailing the ersatz Santa on Collins Street. He then turned onto Henrietta Avenue, with the two ladies of law enforcement maintaining a distance of about fifteen feet. All the while they kept the subject of their pursuit firmly in sight.

Finally, at a large warehouse, he pressed a buzzer. As he waited to be admitted, Batgirl and the Lieutenant came up stealthily behind him. As the door opened, he proceeded into the building, the two women slipping in right behind him. They followed the fake Kris Kringle down the stairs.

As soon as they walked through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and into the room beyond, Batgirl and Diana both quickly reached for their heavy-duty sunglasses. This reaction was caused as much by the garish glare from the silver-tinged walls as being a precaution for the Siren's hypnotic gaze.

The Siren sat haughtily on the silver-gray couch, covered in a luxurious full-length silver gown, somewhat similar in color to the one she wore when she first came to America as the Siren. One of the recently-pilfered rings adorned her left hand. She looked intently at her two adversaries and smiled.

"Merry Christmas and Season's Greetings to both of you," she said with a wicked smile. "It's so nice when old friends drop by unexpectedly for the holidays. Batgirl, it's so nice to see you again. You, too, Left-tenant Mooney."

"We know you have something up your sleeve, Siren," Batgirl said, "so you might as well play your hand right now."

"You DO know me all too well, Batgirl," the Siren said. "Well, if you insist."

Siren stood up and cleared her throat. She did not, however, let out her patented hypnotic note, but instead began singing a verse.

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

As she finished the last line, four costumed Santas entered the room, all with glazed-over eyes.

"You know what to do, my captivated Clauses!" the evil Englishwoman exclaimed. "These two have been have very naughty, so they must be punished. Go to it."

The Santas attacked Batgirl and Mooney, but their oversized suits and heavy black boots made it difficult for them to move very quickly. Because of this, Batgirl and Mooney were able to dispatch them very quickly, with Batgirl even grabbing one by his beard and then flipping him with a judo kick.

"It won't be a merry Christmas for you, Siren," Batgirl said as the two heroines caught their breaths.

"And where is your young associate?" Mooney asked. "She must be here somewhere. You'd better tell us where she is, or you'll be in even more trouble than you are already."

"Lovely ladies of law enforcement," Siren said with sarcasm, "my apprentice, Sirena, is warming up to perform at a special concert, just for the two of you. You will be able to watch it from our basement dungeon. Be advised, I still don't intend to give up without a fight. That's why I've brought in some reinforcements."

Siren picked up a remote control and pressed a button. Doors opened in two opposite walls, and through them stepped eight criminal henchpeople, four men and four women.

“Batgirl, Left-tenant,” Siren said with a wicked smile, “some old acquaintances of yours want to extend you their holiday greetings."

All were dressed as soldiers, toy soldiers, actually, complete with red circles on their cheeks, epaulettes on their arms and matching white stripes on the torsos of their red uniforms. They all looked straight ahead with blank expressions as they advanced closer to the two heroines, carrying small bayonets.

The men were Atlas, one of Minerva's henchmen; Trap Door from Black Widow's gang; and Kayo and Cauliflower, whom Siren knew from the caper she worked with Riddler.

The women all were quite statuesque. They were Doe, whom Siren already had recruited as a dupe; Lydia Limpet, the Bookworm's assistant; Moth, one of Riddler's molls; and Maid Marilyn, the Archer's henchgal.

Two men and two women had come out of each door. All of their names were on the left-hand sides of their respective uniforms.

‘Atlas and Trap Door really look similar,’ Batgirl thought.

Quickly, however, her thoughts turned to defense as the pre-programmed henchpeople drew closer. Batgirl and the Lieutenant took defensive positions, back-to-back and landed some blows.

Before long, however, Mooney was nicked on the hand by the tip of one of the bayonets. The scratch appeared minor, but instantly the policewoman swooned and fell to the floor, unconscious.

“Diana!” Batgirl screamed.

“Those bayonets were dipped in a powerful general anesthetic,” the Siren explained. “It’s only a matter of time for you now.”

Batgirl was surrounded by eight “toy” soldiers. Although their movements were somewhat mechanical, the numbers proved overwhelming.

As Batgirl dodged an attack from Kayo and Moth, Doe reached in and flicked her weapon across the heroine’s face. The scratch on Batgirl’s cheek was not disfiguring, but it was decisive. Instantly, the Caped Crimefightress collapsed.

"You have done well, my wooden soldiers!" Siren exclaimed. The two heroines were sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

"You may now go back into hibernation, except for you, Cauliflower and Kayo. I will require your muscular machinations to prepare these two for the next phase of my plan."

Her mesmerized minions did as they were told, with six of them exiting the room and Riddler's former henchmen remaining, blank-faced.

Sirena, who had heard all the commotion, finally entered the room. She had red streaks in her blonde hair as her own nod to the holiday season.

"I love what you've done to your hair, young lady," Siren said. "That is quite festive."

"Thank you, Siren," Sirena replied, blushing. "So, what's next?"

"Just warm up your voice, Sirena. I promise you'll be on stage very shortly."

Batgirl and Lieutenant Mooney awoke in a dim, barren, basement room. They were seated on the floor, bound with their backs to one another. The small enclosure was barely large enough to accommodate the both of them, yet the ceiling was quite high.

Two television monitors were built into the walls, one each facing Batgirl and Mooney. There were cameras next to the monitors, which suddenly were switched on, apparently by remote control. Siren's smiling face could be seen on each.

"Nice to see the two of you are awake," Siren said. "You may have noticed there was no tinsel on my Christmas tree."

"Yes, I did," Batgirl said, even though she hadn't. "I assume there was a reason."

"Oh, very much so, Batgirl. I needed all of it for the next step in my plan, that is, eliminating the two of you."

"Death by tinsel," Diana said. "That sounds a bit far-fetched."

"It is far from far-fetched, Left-tenant. Look above you."

At that point, a vent in the ceiling opened. The bound heroines could see there was a large cylinder inside the vent. A single strand of silver tinsel came out of it, and slowly fell, finally resting on Batgirl's left shoulder.

"You see, ladies," Siren said, "within moments, I will activate a switch that eventually will send a veritable torrent of shiny silver tinsel down upon you and everything else in that microscopic speck of a room. At first, it merely will be annoying. Soon thereafter, it will be life-threatening as it accumulates on, around and over you, cutting off all the oxygen in that tiny space."

"That will take a lot of tinsel, Siren," Batgirl said, skeptically. "How can you possibly have enough to finish the job?"

"My annoying adversary, as you well know, the Siren never has to purchase anything. Let us just say I literally have acquired several stone of the stuff in the past few weeks, and there will be more than enough of it to rid me of you two meddling minxes forever."

"I would like you to know, however, that I am not all bad. That's why I am providing a concert just for you."

The robotic camera panned away from Siren to show Sirena, clad in a white fur coat. She began singing with all her strength, gesturing wildly with her left hand as her right hand held the microphone.

. . . our troubles will be miles away

"There's got to be a way out," Mooney shouted over the din, as the flow of tinsel began increasing.

"But where?" Batgirl yelled. "and how can we get out of these first?"

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore

"It's hard to think while listening to her vocal gymnastics!" Batgirl screamed as the tinsel began covering the two crimefightresses’ legs. ‘Focus, girl, focus!’ the Caped Cutie thought.

Faithful friends who are . . .

Sirena's voice kept going . . . as did the silver strands that soon would suffocate the two heroines.

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