WHEN LAST WE LEFT THOSE INTREPID HEROINES, BATGIRL AND LIEUTENANT DIANA MOONEY,
THEY WERE BOUND IN THE BASEMENT OF SIREN'S CURRENT HIDEOUT,
RELUCTANT LISTENERS TO SIRENA'S FIRST CHRISTMAS CONCERT!
WHILE THE SINISTER SONIC SEDUCTRESS BELTED OUT HER FAVORITE HOLIDAY TUNES THROUGH A SPEAKER PIPED INTO THE ROOM,
SIREN'S TWO CAPTIVES WERE BEING INUNDATED WITH TINSEL!
IF THE ENGLISH ENCHANTRESS' PLAN WORKED, BATGIRL AND DIANA
EVENTUALLY WOULD BE SUFFOCATED!
CAN THEY ESCAPE?
OR WILL IT LITERALLY BE A BLUE CHRISTMAS?
ALL WILL BE REVEALED NOW!
As Siren had promised her captives, the tinsel was beginning to fill the cramped room. Worse yet, a small ceiling fan also had been activated via remote control. Although it was set at low speed, it still was doing what the voluptuous villainess had intended, as it swirled the tinsel around the tiny space.
Meanwhile, Sirena kept on singing, pausing only briefly between her holiday selections.
. . .dream
As time goes by, we will find
Between her piercing voice, the whirring of the fan and the blizzard of silver, it was becoming extremely difficult for the heroines to concentrate.
To both Batgirl and Diana, it appeared as if the tinsel was coming out of the cylinder more rapidly, although they had no way of knowing that for certain.
What they both knew, however, was that they had to either get out of the room or stop the flow of tinsel, or they eventually would be inundated by the silvery strands, and thus run out of air.
Before they could do any of those things, they first had to get themselves untied.
The two women sat back-to-back on the floor, their hands bound tightly with rope. The tinsel already had covered their legs, and now was climbing toward their torsos.
Batgirl already had advised her close friend to tilt her head forward as much as possible, thus reducing the chance of tinsel getting in her eyes. Batgirl recently had done the same thing in another one of Siren's traps, when liquid plastic had been poured onto her in an attempt to turn her into a living statue. By facing downward, she had been able to keep the liquid out of her eyes, where it would have had devastating consequences.
Although both Batgirl and Diana moved around as much as they could in an effort to loosen their bonds, there was very little effect.
"Siren's minions usually do a slipshod job," Batgirl remarked, "but not this time. This is really tight."
"Maybe it's because she actually brought in some professional thugs," Diana offered. "They have experience doing this, even though they don't remember it right now."
These are the special times
Times we'll remember
"Good point," Batgirl said, trying to remain calm. Then a thought struck her. "I have something hidden in the lowest flange of my left glove that might help us, Diana. It's a blade, and I'm pretty sure it's sharp enough to cut through this rope."
"OK, that sounds promising," Diana responded, "but how can I get to it?"
"Let's keep trying to move around as much as we can. If we can create just a little bit of slack, you might have enough range of motion in your right hand to reach it. Ready?"
"Yeah, let's try it." The two of them wiggled as much as they were able to within the confines of their restraints.
"This isn't going to work!" the lovely lieutenant said, frustration etched in her voice.
"It will, it will," the Curved Crusader responded. "Just keep trying!"
The two women continued wiggling and wriggling. Eventually, Diana made a discovery.
"I can move my right hand a little bit," she said.
"Good, good," Batgirl replied. "I can feel a little bit of slack, too. Let me see if I can slide my left arm."
Batgirl drew her left arm back slightly, while Lieutenant Mooney moved her right hand forward. Finally, they were able to meet, and Mooney, the strain of the maneuver evident on her face, reached into the first flange of Batgirl's left glove.
"OK, I think I'm close now," Diana said.
Batgirl slid her left arm just a little more. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as well, as the awkward positioning pained her. Of course, compared to the Siamese Human Knots she had survived at the hands of Nora Clavicle and her minions, this was tame by comparison.
These are the precious times
The tender times, we'll hold in our hearts forever
"I got it! I got it!" Diana yelled. "I mean, I think I do."
"You've got it," Batgirl said. "Now, just slide it out of the flange."
"Affirmative," Diana said as she reached in. Finally, the small knife was removed from Batgirl's glove.
"Now comes the real hard part," Diana said as she grasped the knife as tightly as she could and tried to slice into the ropes restraining her comrade. It was extremely difficult, because she had no leverage. Still, she kept going, with the strain again showing on her pretty face.
She stopped for a moment.
"What's wrong?" Batgirl quickly asked.
"I just need to catch my breath," Diana responded. After a couple of deep breaths, she resumed cutting. Finally, one of the rope strands gave way, and then another, and another.
"Way to go, Diana!" Batgirl shouted as she felt the rope slipping off her hands. She, too, took several deep breaths as she slowly moved her arms in front of her body. They felt a bit sore from being restrained for so long, but there didn't seem to be any major damage.
She quickly turned around and untied Lieutenant Mooney, and the two of them slowly stood up.
"I should arrest you for carrying a concealed weapon," Diana said with a laugh.
Batgirl smiled. "My gloves often come in very handy," she said.
The fact that both of them now were able to stand bought the heroines more of a precious commodity: time. Still, Siren obviously wasn't kidding when she said she had obtained a large amount of the traditional Christmas decoration.
These are the sweetest times
These times together
"I hope you another trick up your sleeve," the Lieutenant responded.
"I think I do," Batgirl said as she reached into her utility belt and pulled out of it a small Batarang.
"If I can throw this up into the vent at the proper angle," the Purple Paragon said, "I might be able to lodge it in there so that it would stop the flow, or at least slow it down."
It now was getting extremely hard for the two women to see, as the tinsel swirled all around them, a silvery snowstorm indoors. That deluge, plus the artificial air currents caused by the fan, would make Batgirl's toss quite difficult.
"This isn't going to be easy," Batgirl said, as much to herself as to her friend.
"Maybe I could take a shot at it," Diana said as she reached for her service revolver. Not surprisingly, Siren hadn't removed Mooney's gun. The Diabolical Diva had no use for guns, not with the other weapons she had at her disposal.
"If I hit it directly, perhaps I could jam the works and stop it," Diana said as she sized up the cylinder.
"I know you're a good shot and you placed second in your class at the academy," Batgirl said, "but I don't think it's a good idea."
Diana put her revolver back in its holster. She was taken aback by that statement, although she didn't let on. She thought, 'Where does she get all this information?'
Elsewhere in the warehouse, Siren was asking questions as well.
"How does that purple pain in the arse do it?" she said to nobody in particular. "I am sick of all her good fortune. Sirena!" Siren had to raise her voice even louder, as all Sirena could hear was her own singing.
"Sirena!"
The younger vocalist didn't appreciate the interruption.
"What is it, Siren?" she called out from the other room.
"Your show is over for now, young lady," her mentor replied. "It is time for us to go to our next place of residence. Posthaste!"
"Damn. Another performance ruined by Batgirl," Sirena said, slamming her microphone to the floor. The American enchantress remembered well the time that Batgirl had interrupted — and thus ended — a concert of hers at the Club Lotus in Gotham City.
"I don't understand why we have to leave right now," the blonde beauty said. "OK, so they've untied themselves, but they haven't escaped just yet. Couldn't you just have our henchpeople take care of them?"
"Yes, we could have our minions attack them again, Sirena, but it is not as if I have a reserve deathtrap waiting."
'Maybe you should have one waiting,' Sirena thought ruefully, 'considering how they never seem to work.' The headstrong hypnotist briefly thought about saying that to her mentor, but quickly remembered the dismal failure that was her first attempt at a deathtrap back in Londinium, when it failed to slice and dice Flamebird. Sirena thus kept her lovely mouth shut, for the time being.
"Besides, young lady," the Diabolical Diva said, "did you think we were going to stay here with two corpses rotting in the basement? That would have been impractical, odoriferous and quite macabre. The plan always was to leave this place, only now we must do it a trifle more quickly."
"I understand," Sirena said, nodding sadly.
Siren barely acknowledged her young charge's disappointment, as she instead opened a locked door to the next room. In it were all eight of her hypnotized henchpersons, standing blank-faced with glazed-over eyes. They had traded their toy-soldier uniforms for pastel pink leotards with each one's criminal name written across the front. The only difference was that the men's uniforms had sleeves and the women's did not.
"It is time for all of you to wake up, my spellbound servants," Siren said. At that command, all eight of them blinked their eyes. "Doe and Moth, I want you to go into my room, fetch my luggage and bring it to my silver van parked in the back alley."
The two well-endowed henchwomen did as they were told.
"I want the rest of you to go into Sirena's room and bring her luggage to the van. I must warn you — it may be a tad on the heavy side. Now go."
The six henchpeople followed orders as Siren let out a heavy sigh.
The tinsel kept swirling as Batgirl and Diana looked to the ceiling. They waved their hands in front of their faces as much as they could to keep the tinsel from getting in their eyes. Batgirl tossed the Batarang up toward the vent.
No luck. It came right back down to her. Another toss yielded the same result. By then, it also had occurred to her that if the implement lodged in the vent at the wrong angle, it might not slow down the flow at all.
'C'mon, girl,' she thought. 'You can do this!'
She threw it again. This time, it stuck!
Batgirl's Batarang had lodged itself in the vent, stuck there at such an angle that only a few strands of tinsel at a time now were escaping. The rest apparently were getting hung up atop the Batarang, exactly as Batgirl had theorized and hoped.
"That's quite a throw," Lieutenant Mooney said with a smile. "Too bad there's no Olympic event for that."
"Hey, I just noticed something," Batgirl advised.
"What's that?"
"Sirena has stopped singing."
"Roger that," Diana responded, as she effortlessly switched into her police mode now that the life-and-death situation had been averted. "I'd suspect that she and Siren already have vacated the premises."
"Well, there's one way to find out, right?" Batgirl said.
"Right . . . and I think this time my weapon is the correct one. Any objections?"
"None whatsoever," Batgirl replied.
"Good," Diana said as she once again brandished her revolver. She went to the door, placed her gun just above the doorknob and aimed it at the door, being careful to shoot downward, in case someone was standing outside of it. She also turned her head in case any debris came her way.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
After those three shots, the policewoman looked at the doorknob again. There was enough of a hole so that she could reach through it and open the door from the other side.
The lovely lieutenant and the Curved Crusader quickly looked in every room, but found nothing. Not only were the two evil enchantresses long gone, so were all of their ill-gotten gains, as well as their spellbound servants.
"I'm surprised Siren brought along ALL of her slaves," Mooney remarked. "There's nothing we could glean from questioning them anyway, even though we would try."
"The fact that they're all gone, you know what that means, Diana?" Batgirl responded.
"I know, I know," Diana said, as she looked at the floor and wiped some sweat off her forehead. "She's got much more in store for us."
Batgirl nodded silently as the lieutenant radioed headquarters.
THE NEXT DAY, AT POLICE HEADQUARTERS . . .
"I just finished reading your report. That sounds like quite a harrowing ordeal, Lieutenant," Commissioner Gordon said. "I'm just glad you and Batgirl got through it unharmed."
Both women nodded their acknowledgment. A small voice in Batgirl's head wanted to add, "Thanks, Daddy," but, as always when other people were present, she ignored the impulse.
"Now we must try to figure out her next move," Batgirl offered.
"You seem pretty certain that something else is forthcoming," her father said.
"Knowing Siren as I do, I'm sure she has something more in mind," Batgirl said. "The Santa Claus capers could have been her main plan years ago when she first came here, but she thinks much more ambitiously now."
"I agree," Diana said. "That's why I've got the members of the task force staking out abandoned warehouses and fancy hotels. We'll do our best to locate her and her young associate before they strike again."
"That's a fine idea, Lieutenant," the Commissioner said. "Keep me updated as much as possible."
"Will do, sir. I'll go back to my command post right now."
MEANWHILE, AT THE GROTTO ARMS HOTEL
Siren chose her old haunt as a temporary hideout, as she attempted to out-think Batgirl and Lieutenant Mooney. She suspected they wouldn't figure that she would return to her first Gotham City hideout, and even if they did, they wouldn't get any information. Siren already had taken precautions by indoctrinating the entire staff at the front desk. She also had sent away her latest group of minions, knowing she could summon them again at any time.
Siren yawned as she lounged on a bed in a huge suite at the fancy hotel, flipping through the TV channels with a remote control. No matter how many stations she switched to, however, the news was the same.
Batgirl, of course, still was alive. She was displaying some of her trademark bravado, promising in sound bites to the media that she would capture the Siren and bring her to justice.
"That impudent irritant," Siren said loudly, making sure that Sirena, trying on more clothes in the next room, could hear the English enchantress. "She will be powerless against our next scheme — as will everyone else!"
Sirena, who still loved to sing notes other than stunning ones, was a bit depressed after her performance had been cut short by necessity the day before. Thus, she turned to her favorite pick-me-up: her wardrobe. Still, when she heard Siren's voice above the sound of the TV, she realized this was her cue, and ambled over to Siren's room.
"I've learned never to doubt you, Siren," she said, "but, still, how can you be so sure? I mean, you haven't heard from that guy since Tuesday."
"That guy," Siren said with a hint of a sneer, "as you so casually put it, is none other than Peter Robbins, the engineer in charge of the New Year's Eve ball drop in Chimes Square. You were there when I placed him under my control."
In her mind, Sirena flashed back to two days ago, when she and her mentor had infiltrated Robbins' office. The two tuneful temptresses had done it on the day when they had not induced any robberies by their stable of spellbound Santas.
Like most of Siren's impending victims, Robbins was surprised, but not at all alarmed to see the British beauty enter his little world. In fact, he was treated to the sight of not only Siren, but her young apprentice as well. Coincidentally, Robbins was to be interviewed that day by KGC-TV for a behind-the-scenes story on the New Year's preparation, and he assumed the two gorgeous women gracing his office were reporters. Both were wearing sensible grey business suits, although Sirena's skirt was cut an inch or two higher than Siren's.
'Maybe the camera crew is outside,' he thought.
"Can I help you ladies?" he asked.
"You certainly can, Mr. Robbins," Siren said. "My associate and I have a proposal for you."
Before he could digest that statement, Siren's stunning note filled the room.
Siren ended the note and locked the door from the inside. "Now, sir, I am the Siren and this is my associate, Sirena. Henceforth, you will obey our commands until further notice. Is that understood?"
Robbins nodded.
"Now, my good man," Siren said as she walked toward him, "would it be possible for you to program a musical selection into the ball that shall be dropped in Chimes Square on New Year's Eve?"
He hesitated, then nodded again. He was eager to please. "Yes, I believe that could be done."
"Splendid." Siren reached into her silver handbag and pulled out a CD. She handed it to the entranced electronics expert.
"The selection on this disc is exactly twenty-one seconds in length," she said as Robbins looked at it. "I want you to program this note into the ball, so that it will be played at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, that is, it will play for the first twenty-one seconds of 2007."
Siren hated to be so redundant, but she knew full well from experience that every task had to be made as clear as possible to her mesmerized minions before they began their work.
"It will take some doing," he said as sweat formed on his brow. "It won't be easy."
"You will get it done, will you not?" Siren said as she leaned in to stroke his left cheek. "I have given you an order, sir."
"Yeah," Sirena said, as she walked over and began stroking Robbins' right cheek simultaneously. "No man can disobey an order from us."
Robbins nodded again. He swallowed hard as he looked at both of the dazzling divas, mere inches away from him. "Your wish is my command," he said with a dazed smile.
"This also is very important," Siren said. "You are to tell no one about this task. It is to be a complete surprise to everyone. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"When we leave, you will forget my associate and I were here. You will, however, remember my voice, because I will be calling you in the near future. Is that clear?"
"Of course, Siren."
"Smashing. Well then, cheerio!" The women left the room.
"So you see, Sirena, our scheme is in very good hands," Siren said as she raised her arms skyward.
"But how can you be sure he'll be able to do it?" the younger seductress asked.
"You should know by now, young lady, that men in our thrall are capable of quite amazing and prodigious feats. I have no doubt that Mr. Robbins will be able to fulfill our demands."
The younger sonic sorceress had yet another question.
“What if somebody finds out what we’ve done?”
“There is nary a chance of that, young lady. Surely you remember what I did immediately after we exited Mr. Robbins’ office?”
Sirena nodded, recalling how her mentor had then zapped Robbins’ female assistant.
“Now, Ms. Lozelle,” Siren had said, her beautiful green eyes glowing, “you will remember nothing about what has taken place. Nor will you remember my associate and me. Is that understood?”
“I understand.”
Back in the present, Siren snapped her fingers. “See, young lady. Everything is proceeding on schedule.
"In little more than a fortnight," the Diabolical Diva continued, "every man in Chimes Square, as well as millions more watching on television, shall be under our control! When that ball is dropped, a new year shall begin. . .the Year of the Sirens!"
Sirena laughed along with Siren.
TWO WEEKS AND TWO DAYS LATER, IN THAT SAME HOTEL SUITE . . .
Siren was sitting next to the phone, dressed in a shimmering blue jacket with a matching bustier. Although she refused to let her protégée know, she was starting to wonder if Robbins would be able to complete the work. As binding as Siren's "contract" with him was, perhaps it just wasn't possible for him to perform his appointed task.
Instead of the ringing of the phone, however, there was a knock on the door.
"Room service," a voice called.
Sirena sauntered in from the next room and opened the door. A man in a black jacket wheeled a tray into the room. He lifted the cover to the tray.
"This is the roast duck you requested, madam," he said as he put the cover down.
"Thank you so very much," Sirena replied.
The man continued to stand there, obviously expecting a tip.
'I suppose he didn't get the memo,' thought Sirena. 'I never pay for anything.'
She was clad completely in white as she leaned against an extra luxurious rollout mattress that was built into one of the walls of the suite.
The blonde enchantress, who had exchanged the red highlights in her hair for dark ones, wore a white jacket with a white fur collar, a white tank top and tight white slacks with a white belt. The color scheme was broken only by her luscious red lips, which she parted to deliver her sinister note.
The waiter's eyes immediately glazed over.
"You will leave now, sir," Sirena commanded, "but first, you will put that cover on your head. I think you would look good that way."
"Yes, madam," he said as he placed the metal cover atop his head and then wheeled the tray out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Siren couldn't help but chuckle as she watched this scene. She used to wonder if her attitude would rub off on Sirena. That obviously wasn't a concern anymore.
"Do you want some of this duck, Siren?"
"I think not, young lady. I rather prefer Londinium Broil, to be quite honest."
The phone rang.
"Yes, Mr. Robbins, it's so wonderful to hear from you," Siren said as Sirena watched intently. "Excellent. You have done good work. You will remember none of this, of course. Thank you."
"It's done?" Sirena asked.
"Was there ever any doubt?" her mentor answered. "The Year of the Sirens is close at hand. Sirena, tomorrow night will be a time not for New Year's resolutions, but for a New Year's revolution. In fact, I've changed my mind. I think I'll have some of that duck, in celebration."
The evil enchantresses sat down to eat.
IT'S THE AFTERNOON OF NEW YEAR'S EVE, AND ALL OF GOTHAM CITY IS EXCITED ABOUT THE BIG NIGHT. WELL, ALMOST EVERYONE . . .
Barbara couldn't relax. The fact that Siren and Sirena had been strangely, well, silent since Batgirl's and Lieutenant Mooney's escape from Siren's deathtrap was ominous.
She had enjoyed spending Christmas Eve and morning with her father at his home. Later Christmas day they had driven out on Short Island to be with some distant relatives. Barbara was thankful this was one holiday where neither Batgirl nor the Police Commissioner was needed.
Now as the year ended, however, Barbara knew Siren still had another card to play. Babs still was trying to figure out the Diabolical Diva's overall objective.
'But what exactly could that card be?' Barbara thought.
Just after she finished that thought, the doorbell to her apartment rang.
"Hello, Daddy," Barbara said as she greeted the Commissioner with a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello, pumpkin," he replied. "I wanted to drop by and wish you a Happy New Year on my way to the office."
"You're about eleven hours early, Daddy," Barbara said with a smile.
"Oh, I know," her father said as he took a seat on the couch, "but I'm working tonight, just because of all the security we've got for the Chimes Square celebration. I was hoping you had somewhere to be at midnight."
"Oh, I've been invited to a party or two, but I turned them down. Even though we made it through Christmas Day OK, I’ve found I can't relax and have fun while the Siren is still out there. It just doesn’t feel right."
Her father nodded sullenly.
"Wait a minute!" Babs added. "What did you say you were doing today?"
"I'm making sure the extra police security for the Chimes Square ball drop is in place."
Barbara took a deep breath. "That's it!" she said excitedly. "This must be what Siren has been planning! It fits her dramatic persona perfectly! What better time to again make her presence known than midnight at Chimes Square, with the whole country watching?"
James Gordon was a bit skeptical, but he had learned not to doubt his daughter in such matters.
"What could she have in mind?" he asked.
"I'm not sure . . . ." Then an idea struck her. "Daddy, who is the engineer in charge of the ball drop?"
"Oh, I just spoke to him Friday. What was his name again? Oh, I have it in my briefcase."
The Commissioner leafed through some papers and found the name. "It's Peter Robbins," he announced. "I can give you his cell phone number."
"No, I think I'll wait," Babs responded. She couldn't help thinking of the time in Italy when Siren bragged to Batgirl that the Sinister Songstress could have the Italian Prime Minister commit suicide or start a war while he was under the Siren’s spell.
'If Robbins is under Siren's spell,' Barbara thought, 'he could become dangerous to himself or someone else if I start poking around. Maybe this time it would be better not to go directly to the source.'
Barbara didn't want to let her father know of her dire suspicions, so she downplayed them. "Maybe Batgirl could speak with his personal assistant instead," she said. "Would you be able to get me that address?"
"Certainly. I trust you know what you're doing."
Barbara nodded as reassuringly as she possibly could.
Within an hour, Batgirl showed up at the door to the apartment of Lorna Lozelle, personal assistant to Peter Robbins.
Batgirl needed to extract some information without alarming Lozelle, so she questioned her as carefully as possible.
“This is just routine, ma’am, I assure you,” Batgirl said, as she showed the woman pictures of Siren and Sirena. “Do you recognize either of these two women?”
“I can’t say that I do,” Lorna replied. “Who are they, anyway? Are they violent criminals or something like that?”
Batgirl found it a bit odd Lozelle didn’t recall seeing pictures of the Siren. Her striking visage had graced the front pages of Gotham City’s newspapers on more than one occasion.
The colorful detective didn’t mention the fact as she continued, “No, honestly, they’re not violent at all. Let’s just say they’re con artists, and we’ve developed information that perhaps they visited Mr. Robbins sometime this month.”
“I don’t remember seeing them . . . and all of his appointments go through me.” She paused and smiled. She was trying to be helpful. “Perhaps I can look at his schedule and see if anything comes to mind?
“Please,” Batgirl said. “It could be important.”
“No problem at all.” Lorna reached into a briefcase, picked up her appointment book and flipped through it. She then stopped and looked at Batgirl, puzzled. “That’s funny.”
“What?”
“This day,” the personal assistant said, pointing at a page, “Tuesday, December 12th.” She then paused and added with her brow furrowed, “Actually, I don't seem to remember any visitors at all that day, which is strange, because he had three appointments. I checked each of them off in my book . . . but I honestly don’t remember any of them.”
Batgirl immediately suspected the woman’s memories of that day had been erased by Siren’s hypnotic visual spell, but there was no need to tell her. The Curved Crusader maintained her composure as best as she could. She now was convinced Robbins had been hypnotized on December 12th, because it now was obvious Lozelle also had been mesmerized, at least briefly, and made to forget the events of the day.
“It’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure,” Batgirl said, reassuringly. “Thank you for your time and cooperation, Ms. Lozelle.”
As soon as she left the apartment, Batgirl pulled out her cellphone and called Lieutenant Diana Mooney.
"Diana, I don't know how to put this gently, so I won't even try. I don’t have time to tell you how I know, but I believe that Siren has arranged for her stunning note to be played tonight at midnight when the ball drops in Chimes Square."
The Lieutenant gasped. "So, you think that was her plan all along?"
“Well, I’m sure eliminating us, her greatest nemeses, would have been a nice bonus for her . . . but yes, I think this is her overall objective, Diana. I have an idea, and I think Commissioner Gordon will approve. How many members of your task force can you bring?"
Diana was thinking right along with Batgirl. "Well, some of them already have been assigned to the detail, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. How about eight of them, two each to a squad car?"
"That's exactly was I was thinking. Make sure they’re at all four corners of the perimeter. We can synchronize the whole thing later."
“Roger that,” the Lieutenant said. “I’ll be in touch.”
EARLY THAT EVENING, AT THE GROTTO ARMS . . .
Sirena lounged on the huge couch in the common room of the suite. The blonde beauty had gotten a hair perm for the big occasion, and again was wearing white. This time, she was clad in a white imitation fur on top of a white evening gown, with a huge diamond necklace.
Just then, Siren walked out of her bedroom. The enchanting Englishwoman was wearing a ruffled black dress that showed off her luscious hips, as well as lacy, see-through, opera gloves.
Even Sirena was impressed.
"Wow, Siren, that's a great outfit!"
"New Year's Eve, young lady, is a fine opportunity to dress formally. I want to look smashing once I commandeer the television broadcast and address my new male minions across the country."
"Wow. How are we going to do that, I mean, take over the broadcast?"
"Simplicity itself, Sirena," the Diabolical Diva answered. "In the confusion that shall ensue after my stunning note is played, it will be easy for us to impose our will. Once that's done, we shall begin our New Year's Revolution."
"That's a great plan," said Sirena, who wasn't usually in the habit of stroking her mentor's ego. "I can't wait."
"Our time shall come soon enough, Sirena. The year 2007 will start on the right note---mine!"
LATER THAT EVENING, THE CLOCK IS APPROACHING MIDNIGHT IN CHIMES SQUARE
Siren and Sirena, both wearing imitation fur coats, were trying to look as inconspicuous as two beautiful temptresses possibly could as they blended into the fringes of the large crowd.
“So, what will you have OUR men do once they’re under our spell?” Sirena asked.
“Oh, I’m not exactly sure,” Siren said with a wave of her right hand. “Perhaps some ravaging and pillaging of Gotham City would be a fine beginning to 2007.”
“How about this, Siren? We could switch from the Christmas robberies and have them steal jewels for me and clothes for you.”
“That is a capital idea, Sirena,” the Diabolical Diva said with a smile, as adrenaline began surging through her beautiful body. “I’ve never anticipated a New Year quite like this one.”
“Me neither, Siren.”
It now was 11:58. Batgirl, again given a police communicator for the night, radioed Lieutenant Mooney.
“Any sign of them?”
“Negative. How about you?”
“No, I don’t see them, although I’m sure they’re here somewhere. The officers are ready, right?”
“We’re all on the same page,” Diana responded.
It now was 11:59, and the crowd began counting down.
59!
58!
57!
Batgirl took a deep breath. ‘This just has to work,’ she thought. ‘If it doesn’t, I don’t know what Plan B is.’
Siren’s eyes were widening in anticipation, as the count reached thirty.
Soon the huge crowd was counting down the final seconds.
10!
9!
8!
7!
6!
5!
4!
Siren was counting down, too, when she heard it, just as she and the rest of the crowd reached three.
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--
It was the warning signal from four Gotham City Police cruisers, all belonging to female officers of the Anti-Siren Task Force.
The Diabolical Diva WAS correct, but not in the way she had planned. The Year of the Sirens had started, only it was the more conventional kind.
She scanned the crowd. The men still were celebrating, as they obviously could not hear Siren's hypnotic note.
Siren scrunched up her nose as if she had heard the sourest of notes. She then put her hand over her face and rubbed her tired eyes. "Blast it all!"
Sirena was disappointed, too, but almost as much for her mentor as for herself. Thus, she was able to compose herself a bit more quickly.
"Siren, we have to get out of here!"
Siren nodded reluctantly. The two sonic sorceresses quietly, but quickly, exited the scene, looking out for any members of Lieutenant Mooney's task force.
Batgirl also scanned the crowd. The men looked normal. In fact, everything appeared to be as it should. She breathed a sigh, as did the Lieutenant.
“I think it worked,” Batgirl said, “although I couldn’t hear whether Siren’s note played or not.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Diana responded.
Batgirl and Diana both knew that Siren and Sirena were probably somewhere in that mass of humanity. Finding them, however, was another matter entirely.
ONE HOUR LATER, IN COMMISSIONER GORDON’S OFFICE
“One of our lab technicians already has examined a tape of the broadcast from Chimes Square,” the Commissioner said. “She was able to separate the sound tracks and discovered there was indeed a high-pitched whine being played, distinct from the sound of the squad-car sirens. So you two were right.”
Batgirl and the Lieutenant both nodded, pleased they had stopped Siren, but disappointed they hadn’t effected her capture.
“The task-force officers are checking all the airports, train stations and bus stations,” the Commissioner offered.
Batgirl nodded, but thought, ‘She’ll slip away. She usually does, somehow.’
She didn’t verbalize that thought, and instead said, “I think it’s time for me to go home.”
“Thanks so much to both of you,” her father said.
Batgirl nodded and said goodbye. Within a few moments, she was leaving Police Headquarters by the back entrance, where she had parked her Batgirlcycle.
As she climbed onto it, she thought about the year. She again had discovered how much her calling ruled her entire life, yet she also knew she never could turn back. This was who she was, and who she always would be – at least for the foreseeable future. She had made peace with that long ago.
She wondered what 2007 would bring: what new challenges, new villains, new situations and new problems lay ahead.
She knew only one thing for certain as she stepped on the gas and started the motor.
The New Year wouldn’t be boring.
I'm Dreaming of a Bat Christmas by Randy Farb
Holiday Joker Mr. Deathtrap
Is Batgirl's Provoker Mr. Deathtrap
The Joker's Gift by Mr. Deathtrap
Starts Our Heroines' Shift by Mr. Deathtrap
And Earns Him Justice Swift by Mr. Deathtrap
The Christmas Crime Infection by Mr. Deathtrap
Fought Through Clue Inspection by Mr. Deathtrap
For the Season's Resurrection by Mr. Deathtrap
Playgirl's Power Play by Mr. Deathtrap
Robin and Flamebird Save the Day by Mr. Deathtrap