LET’S FIND OUT IF BATGIRL’S RESOLVE WILL HARDEN FIRST!
As the liquid plastic oozed from the huge spigot, Batgirl could feel the heat as it began dripping onto her. Despite the cramped quarters, she was able to bow her head forward slightly, so that for the moment, her cowl and red wig would absorb most of the hot plastic, as opposed to it streaming across the unprotected areas of her face.
Still, it was dripping all over her cape and onto her torso. She could tell by the way the purple of her costume was beginning to fade on her upper body, obscured by the white plastic. Siren's men stood nearby, oblivious to the Purple Paragon's peril.
Batgirl could see there were at least twenty of them, maybe more. Still, she gladly would take those odds, because it would mean she had escaped her cylindrical prison.
The heat from the liquid plastic was beginning to make the small space very warm, almost unbearably so. As plastic dripped over her, Batgirl could feel plenty of sweat underneath her costume. It also was becoming somewhat difficult to breathe, due to the warmth and the smell of the plastic.
As she was looking down, Batgirl noticed that the large tube fit perfectly into a huge groove built into the floor. 'So much for the idea of jostling around within this cylinder, to topple it onto the floor,' Batgirl thought.
‘OK, so that won’t work. I have to come up with another idea.’
The tube seemed to be made of very sturdy plexiglass. Batgirl didn’t think she had anything concealed in her gloves that would be able to cut through the strong material.
'Since the spigot extends from a hole in the ceiling, there's a slim chance I could brace myself against the walls of the cylinder and try to climb out . . . IF hot plastic wasn't pouring down on me. I'm not a silicon salmon!'
As she was pondering all this, it suddenly occurred to the Curved Crusader that she didn’t feel anything more dripping on her head and torso.
'Has the flow stopped?' Batgirl decided to dare to look.
'If I'm wrong, I could be blinded.'
Batgirl took a deep breath, lifted her chin and looked up.
'It has stopped!
‘I guess Siren must have misjudged the temperature in the room!’ Batgirl concluded.
The plastic, Batgirl suspected, wasn't flowing freely enough. It had solidified soon after coming out of the spigot.
Batgirl was quite happy about this development, but, of course, remained calm. There was still the matter of getting out of the cylinder itself.
She looked up again. The plastic had hardened into an inverted cone, resembling a stalactite, which came to a point about a foot above her head.
'If I can grab hold of that, it perhaps will be possible to use the hardened plastic as an escape route, to shimmy my way out of here!'
It wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth a try -- especially considering she had no other options at the moment. Batgirl first shrugged her shoulders, then began forcing her hands and forearms up, thrusting her elbows into her sides. She then pulled her upper arms over her breasts, pressing hard against them.
'That's certainly uncomfortable,' the heroine thought wryly.
Although difficult, the effort paid off. Her arms were soon extended above her head and her hands could now easily reach the solidified polycarbon.
Although decorative, her gloves were also practical. Not only did their flanges conceal an array of lock-picks and files, the palms and fingers were designed to provide excellent grip. She grabbed hold of the hard plastic and pulled.
'I hope it doesn't give way!
Instead of the imagined disaster, she felt her feet leaving the ground.
‘OK, now for the hard part,’ she thought, as she began inching her hands up the plastic.
She was able to get enough of a grasp on the plastic to slowly lift herself higher. It was painstaking work, but within a few minutes, her entire body was on the plastic as she continued her way up the makeshift exit. She hoped the spigot extended from a second story. If so, once she crawled through that hole, she would be free.
Siren’s minions barely noticed her movement within the tube, as the Diabolical Diva had failed to prepare them to react to such an eventuality.
Batgirl kept inching her way up the aperture. It was an extremely tight fit, but the crimefighter's supple body was equal to the task. Fortunately, the layer of plastic on her costume was thin enough to still be flexible.
The Caped Crimefightress grabbed the edges of the hole and poked her head between it and the spigot. She could see the floor of the second story of the building around her. With her hands on the floor, she fully exhaled and tipped her breasts downward. She was then able to squeeze her torso through the space between the spigot and the sides of the hole. Next, by rocking back and forth, she eventually pulled her hips out as well. Once that was accomplished, it was no problem to sit her beautiful body onto the floor.
"Finally!" Batgirl said as she collapsed momentarily from exhaustion. The Dominoed Daredoll knew, however, there wasn’t any time to relax. As soon as possible, she found the steps to the ground floor and made her way to the door.
Until she walked out of Siren's hideout and into the morning sun, Batgirl hadn't realized she was atop Mount Solaro, the highest point on the island. There was a chairlift to take people up and down the mountain, but Batgirl was afraid to use that service because she might be recognized, although the white plastic coating the upper portion of her costume made her identity much less obvious at a distance.
She reached into her right glove for the map of Capri she had hidden there. She intended to cross-reference it with the addresses given to her by the resistance movement.
She found she was in luck – sort of. The safe house she originally had been taken to was the closest to Mount Solaro of those addresses, but it appeared to be about three miles away.
‘Three miles!’ the already-weary heroine thought. ‘Well, there’s no better choice.’
As Batgirl slowly made her way down the steep foot path, the women she had pursued across the globe were at sea already.
Siren and Sirena were on board a Sorrento-bound hydrofoil, one personally chartered by Siren. Also aboard were several of Siren's mesmerized male minions, as well as Annabella, her unwitting personal assistant.
Siren again was wearing the yellow bikini she had sported the previous day, while Sirena was clad in a metallic black tube top with black bikini briefs. Both hypnotic hotties wore extremely dark sunglasses to protect their beautiful, light eyes from the midday glare.
"Young lady," Siren said, turning to Sirena, "you wanted to be more involved in this partnership, and so you shall."
"Great," the blonde-once-again-turned-brunette said with a smile nearly as wicked as any ever worn by her mentor. "What's the plan?"
"Nothing much, really," Siren said with a trademark wave of her right hand. "We are about to take control of a country, that's all."
Slowly, almost imperceptibly over the time they had known one another, Sirena had absorbed some of Siren's blasé nature. She couldn't, however, keep a straight face this time.
"We're going to do WHAT?"
"Don't act so startled, Sirena. I have told you many times our ascension to power in Anthemoessa was a mere prelude to bigger fish that would be fried down the proverbial road.
"I chose Anthemoessa as the place to begin our reign for three specific reasons. One, it was an historical nod to our sisters of antiquity. Two, the climate is excellent; and three, the location provides us with easy access to Italy, the first country that will fall under our spell."
Sirena said, "And we're going to accomplish that by . . . ?"
"The Italian Prime Minister, Alberto Romano, is scheduled to make a speech tonight in Sorrento, our destination. I intend to give him a private performance, one that he will not forget. Although, actually, he will not remember it."
Both sinister sirens laughed.
"With that one note, I will have a world leader in the palm of my gorgeous hand," the Diabolical Diva said as she gazed skyward. "Think of what that will mean, Sirena."
"I'm thinking about it," she said, smiling. "I'm thinking about it."
"Imagine the entire wuhlld at our fingertips, Sirena. Soon it will be a reality. Anthemoessa is only the beginning." Siren spread her arms.
Sirena quickly regained her composure and asked, "OK, so where do I come in?"
"As you may have assumed, I already know Prime Minister Romano's itinerary in Sorrento. He already has checked out of an exclusive hotel, and will be at the local office of the Olive Leaf Party, as he prepares to make his speech. One of our men will drive you there after we reach the shore."
"So, then what?"
"I shall need to conserve vocal energy before I transform a world leader into my obedient servant, because I will not take any chances. That's why I want you to neutralize any security that might be outside the building. Once that perimeter has been breached, I shall handle the rest."
"Maybe I should remind you my other language is Spanish, not Italian," Sirena said with a smile.
"Do not trouble yourself with small details, young lady," Siren said. "After all, you will be communicating in a language only the two of us have perfected, yet is understood by every male on this earth."
Sirena grinned as Siren continued speaking.
"As I stated earlier, you will neutralize any and all guards outside of the building, leaving me free to make my debut with this particular audience of one."
"OK, I've got it. We will be in communication with one another before I approach the guards, correct?"
"Yes. I will let you know when it will be the proper time, and then you will inform me that it has been done."
"Great."
"I promise you this will be the greatest day of our lives, Sirena," Siren said, smiling as the Italian shoreline drew nearer.
Meanwhile, Batgirl was discovering how long it could take to walk three miles. Even though it was sunny, it wasn’t that hot, yet Batgirl was sweating profusely from her exertion. It didn’t help that the muscles in her arms and legs still were stiff from being confined in the tube for so long.
At least her hunch had been correct. The white plastic covering much of her torso made her less recognizable. While she received a fair share of strange looks from the locals as she strode past, no one seemed alarmed enough to call the authorities.
‘Siren’s victims really can’t think on their feet,’ she realized once again. ‘They are incapable of making value judgments, because Siren’s spell has taken away that ability.’
Finally the weary heroine found the street on which the safe house was located. She recognized it immediately.
Just in case, she went to the back door and knocked vigorously, trying to create as much vibration as possible to alert her hearing-impaired friends.
“Hello,” she said loudly and somewhat pleadingly. “Anybody home? It’s Batgirl.”
She heard some shuffling of feet and could make out the friendly face of Vittorio heading toward the door.
He opened it and his eyes widened. “Signora Batgirl,” he exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story, Vittorio,” she said. “Signora Circe tried to kill me, but I managed to escape.”
“I am glad to hear that. Please, come in.”
Batgirl entered the living room, where two of the other men, Renato and Francesco, were waiting. Vittorio explained that Sandro was away on business, adding, “As I said, we are trying to live as normal as possible.”
Batgirl nodded. “I need your help. Before she left, the Siren said something to me about having a yearning for lemoncello. What could that mean?”
Francesco smiled, “You mean limoncello, Signora Batgirl. It is a yellow liquor made with lemon peels, and is drank before or after meals. Sorrento is very famous for it.”
“OK, so then Siren is headed for Sorrento,” Batgirl said, “but why?”
“I know,” Renato chimed in. “Our Prime Minister will make a speech in Sorrento this evening.”
Shock spread across Batgirl’s face. ‘Oh, my God!’ she thought. ‘She’s going after the Prime Minister. This is the most ambitious she’s ever been!’
She tried to compose herself and not let her new allies see her concern. It was no use. They were upset as well, as everyone in the room could guess Siren’s objective.
“We all have to go to Sorrento, right away,” Vittorio said.
“We can’t take the hydrofoil,” Batgirl said. “If they see me, even looking like this, I’ll be arrested.”
“We’ll take the boat,” Francesco said.
Of course, they all knew the boat wasn’t as fast as the hydrofoil, but they had no choice. Within ten minutes, they had driven to the dock and taken to the sea.
MEANWHILE, THE TWO VILLAINOUS VOCALISTS ALREADY HAVE COMPLETED THEIR JOURNEY.
Once the hydrofoil docked, the two tuneful temptresses quickly went to a nearby beach house which Siren had "obtained," as she called it, months earlier, in preparation for their next malfeasant maneuver. Accompanying them was Annabella, while Siren's male minions, on her instruction, were gathering at a more Spartan beach house next door.
Both Siren and Sirena quickly changed from their swimsuits into less attention-grabbing outfits. Siren chose a white lace dress, the same one she had worn on her second day in court back in Gotham City months earlier, when the D.A.'s office had sought unsuccessfully to have her vocal cords removed.
'It worked before,' a smiling Siren thought as she slipped into the dress.
Sirena, meanwhile, changed into a pink dress. It wasn't low-cut, which was somewhat unusual for the risque rogue. The two dazzling divas then briefly went their separate ways.
Soon, Siren was leaning against an old building, next to the Olive Leaf Party's Sorrento headquarters, her long dark hair flowing behind her. She kept looking around nervously, waiting for her protégée.
Finally, a car dropped her off down the street. Sirena soon came walking by, and Siren flashed her a knowing look as the younger enchantress passed.
Sirena knew what that meant. 'I can't screw this up,' she thought as she tried to calm herself. She wasn't sure if she was feeling guilt for what she and her mentor were about to do, or if she merely was fearing the unknown, and where this adventure might take them next.
Four, armed, secret-service agents stood in front of the door, their revolvers clearly visible on their hips. Sirena took a deep breath. 'This has always worked before,' she thought, 'but I wish I were wearing something more provocative. That might help.'
She slowly approached the guards. As soon as they saw her, she began acting as if she were patting herself down, trying to show them she wasn't concealing a weapon.
"I don't know if any of you speak English," she said sweetly, "but I'm sure you'll be able to understand this."
Sirena took a quick look to make sure nobody else was within earshot, and then unleashed her hypnotic note. The agents didn't know what hit them and stood silently, staring at the beautiful young brunette.
Sirena grinned at them, and then passed her hands in front of her face, briefly closing her eyes as she did so. Somehow, her victims got the hint, and all four of them closed their eyes and began sleeping while standing.
She pulled out a cellphone and pushed one button. "OK, Siren," she said, "the outside guards have been ‘neutralized,’ as you would say."
"That is excellent work," Siren responded before quickly ending the call and walking as stealthily as possible to the front door of the building.
As she went by her co-conspirator, she whispered, "Go back to the beach house. I shall meet you there later."
Sirena nodded and left.
Siren, meanwhile, entered the building. With her knowledge of security, gleaned from having conquered it so many times in so many different places, she guessed correctly that the Prime Minister's room would be downstairs, making it more difficult for someone to gain access.
Not at all difficult, however, for the Siren.
She walked toward the two agents stationed outside the door. In Italian, they asked her to identify herself.
She paid no attention to the warning, and just kept approaching, staring at both of them all the while. For some reason, they felt no urge to draw their weapons.
Siren continued staring. Now she was next to them. They seemed frozen in place, and the Diabolical Diva could see their eyes swimming as they followed her hypnotic eyes.
At times such as these, Siren almost could feel the power surging through her body, as more unsuspecting victims fell under her spell. The proximity necessary for this mode of hypnosis made it seem even more sensual than her usual method.
The men stood motionless, transfixed by the English enchantress.
"Grazie," Siren said as she sauntered past the men. She then opened the door as quietly as she could and entered the room. She was somewhat taken aback when she saw Prime Minister Romano in person, even though she had studied him for months.
Up close, he reminded her of one of her kindly old voice teachers at the Royal Academy all those years ago, instead of one of the leaders of the Free World.
The sinister songstress quickly regained her composure, reminding herself of her innate superiority.
'No matter how wealthy or powerful they are,' she thought, 'they all are mere men. That means they all are inferior to me.'
Thus, she entered the room with her trademark confidence.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Prime Minister," she said cheerily. "I understand you are quite fluent in English."
"What are you doing here?" he said in an alarmed voice, although he thought fast enough to answer Siren in her own language.
"I merely am welcoming you to Sorrento," Siren said, smiling.
She then took a deep breath.
'This is the note you've been waiting ten years to deliver,' she thought. 'Do what comes naturally.'
Siren unleashed her stunning note. It was at its usual pitch, two octaves above High C, but she was able to hold it for an unusually long time. As she did, she couldn't help but think of all the power she soon would wield.
She finished the note and smiled wickedly at Prime Minister Romano. He was staring into space, as if frozen in mid-thought. He had no desire to move or speak.
Siren laughed, almost involuntarily, as she walked slowly toward him.
"Mr. Romano," she said, slowly, "I am Lorelei Circe, the Siren, and you are under my spell."
"Yes," he responded, blank-faced.
"You will obey all of my commands. Is that understood, Alberto?"
"Yes," he said again, adding, "of course."
"My first command is for you to cancel your speaking engagement here in Sorrento, and return to Rome immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Siren, I understand."
"I also want you to give me all of your private numbers at which you can be contacted. If there is something I need you to do, you thus will be able to do it immediately."
"Yes," he said, and began scribbling several numbers on a pad of paper.
"Excellent," the Diabolical Diva said as the leader of Italy handed over the piece of paper.
"You see," she added as she stroked his chin, "henceforth you will be a mere figurehead. To the outside world, it will appear you are in power. On the inside, however, I will have the ability to influence and control your every decision."
"Yes, you will control my every decision," the Prime Minister said, nodding his assent.
"Don't feel badly," the evil Englishwoman said with a smile. "Soon, all the leaders of the important countries shall suffer the same fate. Once that's done, the world will be mine."
"Yes, Siren," he said. "The world will be yours."
"I'm glad you have not questioned my political strategy," Siren said, laughing. "Now, when I leave this room and you hear the sound of that door closing, you will awaken from your trance. Your conscious mind, however, will remember nothing about this encounter. Any time you hear my mesmerizingly melodious voice, though, you then will lapse into a trance immediately and do my bidding. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Siren."
"Smashing! After you awaken in a few moments, you shall inform your aides and advisors that you feel slightly ill. It is nothing serious, but you wish to be taken back to Palazzo Chigi. Is that clear?"
The Prime Minister nodded his approval toward this policy change.
"Splendid!" Siren exclaimed. "I am sure we will speak later. Cheerio!"
The Prime Minister, unconsciously following her lead, also said, "Cheerio."
The English enchantress exited, and closed the door behind her. Prime Minister Romano blinked his eyes and shook his head.
For some reason, he had suddenly decided to back out of this public appearance. All he knew was that he needed to return to Rome, but he did not know why.
LATE THAT AFTERNOON, AT SIREN'S BEACH HOUSE . . .
"Siren, what are you wearing THAT for?" Sirena said as her mentor entered from the other room.
Siren was clad in a thick brown coat and thigh-high black vinyl boots which covered black slacks. A brown and white kerchief topped her ensemble.
"The forecast calls for a trifle of a cold spell tonight," Siren said, giggling slightly over the word "spell," before adding, "thus, I wanted to be well-dressed for that eventuality."
"I don't have a problem with the rest of your outfit," Sirena said, "but exactly what is that thing covering your head?"
"I am trying to be incognito, Sirena," she replied. "Of course, attempting to hide the incredible beauty I possess is like trying to cover the Tower of Londinium with a nappy."
"A what?"
Siren sneered. 'Will this young lady ever learn proper English?' she thought.
Deciding her question was unimportant, Sirena turned to a more pressing matter. "How long are we going to stay here?"
"As long as we choose, Sirena," the beautiful Brit answered. "We have not aroused any suspicion among the befuddled local authorities, and I do not have to be in Rome to influence the Prime Minister."
Siren held up her cell phone. "You might call this a remote control," she said with a satisfied expression.
The sexy sorceresses were sharing a laugh when Siren suddenly looked out at the water. In the gathering darkness, she could make out a boat. There appeared to be four figures on it, three men and, as near as she could tell, one woman.
It was Batgirl!
"I swear, she's not a bat, she's a cat with all these lives!" Siren fumed as she looked at the ground, searching her mind in vain for answers.
Sirena, too, had noticed their pulchritudinous pursuer. She asked innocently, "What do you think went wrong?"
"How should I know? I am SO cheesed off," Siren said, rolling her eyes. "How does that purple pain in the arse always manage to escape?"
There was no time, however, to try to figure out what had happened to spare Batgirl's life. The Siren was determined. The Dominoed Daredoll needed to be eliminated, once and for all.
Siren quickly exited and went to the house next door, with Annabella in tow. Her hypnotized henchmen wore blank expressions, as they waited for orders from their manipulative mistress.
"Batgirl has arrived," Siren said with a worried expression. "She must not be allowed to escape. In fact, I want her destroyed! Is that understood?"
The men nodded their heads.
"Splendid," Siren said, managing to flash a smile. She then pointed in the direction where Batgirl was coming ashore. "This way, boys."
Siren's mesmerized minions spilled onto the sand in Batgirl's direction . . .
. . . but the battle was short and not particularly brutal.
Batgirl wasn't taken at all by surprise by the attack, and thus was able to more than hold her own, as many of Siren's men couldn't help but slip in the cold, damp sand. The heroine received some unexpected help, as the members of the resistance got into the fray and landed a few punches. Also, someone in one of the nearby beach houses must have called the authorities, because the polizia soon arrived.
"Blast it all!" Siren said as her minions kept falling to the sand. "Men never do a job right."
She turned to her personal assistant, standing dutifully to her left.
"Annabella," she commanded. "Help me."
Annabella, trying desperately to be helpful, asked with a pleasant expression, "Do you want me to change tomorrow's schedule, Siren?"
Siren rolled her eyes. "Oooohhhh, you supercilious twit!" She stamped her right boot on the sand. "Why is it that nobody can measure up to my demanding standards?"
Batgirl then began advancing toward her, flanked by several local police officers.
"Are you ready to come quietly?" Batgirl asked, relishing the chance to tweak her adversary with the same pun she had used on her before.
Although she was quite angry, Siren was able to gather herself rather quickly.
"Not quite, Batgirl," Siren replied. "I suppose I should tell you that the Prime Minister is under my control. You do realize what that means, don't you?"
Siren raised her eyebrows and grinned.
The heroine looked around and grinned back at her opponent. "But he's not here," Batgirl sweetly pointed out.
"That's because I instructed him to go back to Rome," Siren responded with deadly seriousness. "If I call him, he will obey any order . . .but if you don’t let me call him, you are taking the chance of what I might already have commanded him to do."
Siren reached for the coat pocket at her right hip. Some of the policemen silently drew their guns, but Batgirl motioned to them to put their weapons away.
Siren smiled. "At least you know that much about me, Batgirl," she said. "The Siren has no need for conventional weaponry."
Batgirl nodded grudgingly as the Diabolical Diva pulled a cellphone from her coat and punched in a number.
“Good evening, Mr. Romano,” she said in her huskiest, most sultry voice. “This is the Siren. I am sure you remember me.” She paused and said loudly, for Batgirl’s benefit, “Your senior policy advisors are with you? Splendid. Then there is something I want you to do for me.
“I want you to take off each of your shoes and throw them at the nearest wall, one at a time. Can you do that for me, please? Then you shall resume our conversation.”
Siren turned the volume on her phone up as loud as she could, and walked closer to Batgirl, holding up the phone so Batgirl could hear two large thumps, and then several seconds later, a voice on the other end.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Prime Minister,”” the stunning sorceress replied. “When you exit this call, you will, for the moment, come out of your trance. Is that clear? . . . Excellent.”
Siren relished the opportunity to smile sweetly back at the frustrated Batgirl.
"I hope my demonstration has convinced you of my power over this entire country. For all you know, I may already have given him an order to attack France at some later date, or to commit suicide," the voluptuous villainess said. "You have no way of knowing for certain. Maybe I did, maybe I did not. You cannot, however, be sure. Do you really want to trust the fate of a country to someone as headstrong as I?"
“How do I know that was really the Italian Prime Minister on the other end of that call. It could have been anyone!”
The Siren stretched luxuriantly. “Oh, come now, Batgirl. Do you think I really would try to pull off such an obvious bluff? We could waste time while you try to confirm what just happened at Palazzo Chigi, but then there’s the matter of my possible pre-set preparations with the P.M.. Quite the quandary, wouldn’t you say?”
Batgirl swallowed hard as she considered just what the Siren might have set in motion. ‘Some type of international incident . . . or perhaps even a war.’
“So, what are your demands?” Batgirl asked.
“Oh, not much. For releasing the Prime Minister from my sonic spell, all I am seeking is safe passage out of this country, as well as safe passage back to The States, for both myself and my young associate. I should add that there will be no criminal prosecution of either one of us, as well. To prove what a gracious person I am, I will release the men of Capri from my spell as a bonus.”
“Why should we believe you?” Batgirl countered.
“Remember when you and that Batboy trapped me on the roof of the Wayne Foundation Building all those years ago? You may recall I promised Batboy I would release that feckless fop, Bruce Wayne, from my spell, provided Batboy lifted me to safety. Did I not keep my word?”
Batgirl recalled that Siren did, indeed, make good on her promise to Robin. She sighed and closed her eyes. "All right, Siren," she said, with every word she uttered a painful one. "I'll talk to the British Embassy and they can speak with the Italian government on your behalf. I hope they can have an answer for you by morning. Is that good enough?"
"That will do, Batgirl . . . and don’t worry. The world – and Mr. Romano – are safe until then. I promise I will do nothing untoward in the meantime, because there is no need. Sirena and I will wait patiently here in Sorrento for the decision, while we enjoy our final night in Italy.”
Batgirl literally could feel her own frustration as her body grew tense. 'Why should life be so easy for this . . . person?' she thought ruefully. ‘It just isn't fair.’
Batgirl turned to leave, but the Siren stopped her in her tracks.
“By the way, you can speak with the American Embassy, if you prefer," the English enchantress said. "After all, I have dual citizenship. Becoming an American citizen was quite a snap, if you know what I mean."
She punctuated her declaration with her trademark evil laugh.
Employing her newfound friends from Capri as translators, Batgirl arranged for two female police officers to stake out Siren’s current residence throughout the night. Also through the local police, she contacted the American ambassador, Ronald P. Spaghetti, and explained the unusual situation to him. He had no problem believing it, because, as he told Batgirl, he already had been informed that the Prime Minister’s top aides had witnessed Romano throwing shoes against the wall after receiving a phone call.
Batgirl relayed the Siren’s demands.
“I’ll get back to you,” J. Pauline’s nephew said.
He called Batgirl about thirty minutes later.
"I've spoken to the Italian government," the ambassador said. "They will agree to her demands."
Batgirl understood, but was frustrated anyway.
"I realize the need to get the Prime Minister out from under her thumb," she said, "but no punishment whatsoever? That hardly seems right."
"I'm sorry, Batgirl, but that's what they want to do. From what I can gather, no one here wants to deal with all the problems presented by this woman, as well as by her young cohort. They just want her out of their country — forever."
Batgirl wasn't surprised. It seemed only America, and only at times, was willing to put up with the hassle of incarcerating and trying Siren for her crimes, an advantage of which the Diabolical Diva was fully aware.
The Siren kept her promises the next day. First, in a private broadcast, she released Prime Minister Romano from her spell.
The Prime Minister's aides told Ambassador Spaghetti that Romano seemed to be in good spirits, except that he had no memory of the previous twenty-four hours.
The ambassador passed along that information to Batgirl. “That’s typical,” she told him, satisfied the spell had been lifted.
All that was left was for a broadcast at 1600 local time on every TV station in Italy. In that message, Siren would release all the men, and a few women, of Capri from her evil grip.
Barbara forced herself to watch, just to be sure Siren complied.
The ravishing rogue was wearing a loose-fitting brown blouse and a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant as she stood in a small room.
“I am afraid the time has come for Lorelei Circe, your former benevolent ruler, to leave your wonderful country,” the heinous hypnotist said with a grin. “I wish to thank you for all the hospitality you gave to me and my young associate.”
Siren’s smile faded.
“Without further ado, it is time for me, unfortunately, to return you all to your regularly scheduled and humdrum lives. When I snap my fingers, you all will come out of your respective trances, and you no longer will obey my orders.”
She counted, “One, two, three, FAW,” and then snapped her fingers.
Siren swallowed hard and said, “I suppose I shan’t be seeing any of you again. Arrivederci, Italy!”
The picture faded out and normal programming resumed.
Late the next morning, Barbara Gordon, who had checked in as Barbara Wilson, was lounging on the balcony of her hotel in Sorrento. She had intended to leave Italy that day, now that the Siren finally was out of the country. The Commissioner, however, had convinced her to stay a little longer, in the hope she could unwind. “I’ll even pay for it,” he told her, although she, of course, refused the offer.
She was trying to relax, but all she could think about was that Siren had slipped away from Batgirl. Although it wasn’t Batgirl’s fault, it still rankled her that Siren again was on the loose and headed back to the U. S., ready to wreak more havoc.
Barbara was glad, of course, that everything had been put right. Her friends in the resistance movement had been able to resume their normal lives, just as Annabella had resumed her mayoral duties. “It’s not all bad,” Annabella had told Batgirl. “At least now I am fluent in English."
Barbara's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her room phone.
“I figured it was you, Daddy,” she said with a wan smile. “Yes, I am enjoying the sun. In fact, I was doing so when you called.”
“Are you feeling any better?” her father asked.
“Well, I’m OK physically. Mentally, it’s a little different story. I still can’t shake the feeling I've failed.”
“Failed?” he replied. “You averted a possible international incident and got one of the leaders of the free world out from under the Siren’s spell. Tell me how that’s a failure.”
“But, Daddy, you know yourself it’s all about putting criminals behind bars, and I didn’t do that.”
“No, but because of circumstances beyond your control.”
Barbara sighed. “I guess so,” she said and then added hesitantly, “Daddy, can I ask you a question?”
“What, Pumpkin?”
“Seeing what the Siren did to the Prime Minister made me wonder. I hate to ask this, but do you think it’s possible you’re still in her clutches? After all, she did hypnotize you twice.”
“I’ve actually wondered about that, myself, Barbara, but I don’t think so. Remember when you apprehended her last spring, and she was subsequently tried and incarcerated? If she could have used me as a bargaining chip, I think she would have done so while she was in prison, don’t you think?”
“You’re right, Daddy.”
“Now, you just relax and take as much time as you need. I’m sure Myrtle and Drusilla at the library can muddle through for a few more days.”
“All right, Daddy, I’ll stay here a little longer. It is a beautiful place, that’s for sure.
"I love you, Daddy, and thanks.”
“I love you too, Pumpkin.”
Barbara hung up the phone and resumed sunning herself. She couldn’t, however, help thinking, ‘I wonder what Siren’s next move will be. . .’
FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK THAT, BARBARA, BECAUSE AT THAT MOMENT, A SMALL PLANE IS LANDING AT A TINY AIRPORT IN NEW GUERNSEY.
"We are now landing at Totterboro Airport, ladies," the female pilot of the plane announced curtly, "as you requested."
"As we requested?" Sirena turned to Siren in disbelief. "What's so great about New Guernsey?"
"Shhhh, young lady," Siren countered. "I shall explain my machinations in due time."
As the plane stopped in the middle of a runway at the small airfield, Sirena looked out the window.
"Who's going to get our bags?" the spoiled seductress asked.
Siren let out a heavy sigh. "I am afraid we must carry our own luggage, Sirena. Yes, it is quite beastly. I don't like it any more than you do, but, sometimes, we must sacrifice for our own greater good."
With great effort, the sexy sorceresses lugged their belongings off the plane and onto the tarmac.
As they walked along the airstrip toward the street, Sirena asked, "So, now can you tell me why we're here, Siren?"
"We are here, young lady, because some research I did on our last night in Italy indicates there is something here, mere minutes away from Gotham City, that will provide us with a very joyous holiday season."
"I hope you're right," Sirena responded.
"Trust me, Sirena. This will be a Christmas like none other."