Veils Cunning Treachery

Batgirl closed her eyes as her body rotated to face the enormous lens through which the lighthouse lantern light and its intense heat were focused upon her face and chest once again, hearing her breath exhale and an involuntary moan. ‘Even my breath is hot and dry,’ she glumly thought.

She knew she could not afford defeatist thinking. The sweat streaming slowly from every pore of her skin, though, gave little reason for optimism. The perspiration remained trapped between her flesh and the wetsuit which had replaced her normally lightweight costume for this adventure. The liquid rapidly transformed into steam and she could feel her skin begin scalding. Batgirl knew the sensations would only grow more intense, unless she could free herself.

Penguin and Cora Sayers had been merciless as they caught her, caring nothing for Batgirl’s comfort. The captive’s brutal treatment had only compounded everything she had endured previously. Clearly, the cumulative effects of: swimming underwater on two occasions; both fights; her underwater imprisonment; her long climb through the caves beneath the lighthouse; as well as her earlier effort scaling the face of the cliff - had all taken a tremendous toll.

She opened her eyes as the heat caressed her side. The Curved Crusader began to objectively examine her surroundings, analyzing her predicament and searching for a means of escape. As she pondered the problem of survival, Batgirl slowly began to appreciate how carefully the Penguin had considered her fate.

She was the only flammable item in her cage. Both it and her restraints were made of metal, and were slowly growing warmer as time passed. Other villains might have bound her with rope and offered the hope she could somehow burn through her restraints with the intensified light slowly cooking her. The metal shackles Penguin had used to restrain her were invulnerable to any heat-based attack.

Like other villains, Penguin had deprived Batgirl of her utility belt and the miraculous wonders it normally kept within easy reach around her waist. Indeed, Penguin had done more than deprive her of the impressive arsenal it held. He had lanced her with a psychological barb as the belt was destroyed before her eyes.

Batgirl’s decision to replace her boots with Bat-fins to aid in her underwater swim deprived her of half the items she carried as backups for use in situations where her belt was unavailable. She carried such tiny tools as lock picks in her boots and the flanges of her gloves. Batgirl stretched her fingers toward her lock pick, concentrating as best she could in the sweltering heat.

As her efforts continued, Batgirl imagined one form her gruesome fate might take, if her escape failed. Penguin had been correct about the low percentage of body fat she possessed. This fact meant most of the lean, shapely mass surrounding her bones was muscle. Her sinews would slowly cook throughout the night, weakening the tendons holding them in place. Once the weight of her muscles was enough to overcome the weakening fibers, her well-cooked curves would melt away from her bones. Though she was confident the muscle mass would not tear through her form-fitting wetsuit after rending her flesh, individual muscles would cease to respond to her mental commands all too soon, thus making escape utterly impossible.

A gasp escaped her lips as Batgirl reached the lock pick. Her next chore was to withdraw it from the glove’s flange, while maintaining her hold on it. She knew if her lock pick slipped through her fingers, she might never retrieve the other with her weaker, left hand. Thus, to make extracting the tool easier, she began to rub her glove against one bar of her cage. As she worked, the lock pick slid from its place.

Once again, her face and chest were oriented directly at the lens and lantern light and Batgirl was obliged to pause in her efforts and close her eyes. Moments later, she resumed her work until she had a firm grip on her lock pick. She let her hand relax and heard herself moan again.

She decided she could allow herself precious few seconds to relax before moving the lock pick toward her shackle and going to work on her restraint. Just before her face and chest were oriented toward the magnified light once again, her hand was free. Batgirl permitted herself a smile, but knew she remained helplessly trapped.

Her next task was to free her other hand. ‘Will I be able to stretch my free, partially cooked arm toward my bound one and pick the lock of the second set of shackles?’ Batgirl wondered.

She was delighted her muscles responded to her will as she moved the lock pick toward her second shackle. She was about to face the light once again and closed her eyes when the lock pick was poised. As the tiny tool went to work, she imagined she could hear her muscles sizzling.

A second possible scenario for her ultimate fate was utter dehydration. Thankfully, Batgirl had no time to dwell on another grim, hypothetical outcome of the predicament Penguin had devised. Moments later, the shackle sprang open and Batgirl’s hand fell to her side.

“Now to free my legs,” the Curved Crusader muttered as she let the hand holding her lock pick fall to her other side and bent her knees inside the cage, thus enabling her to reach her leg restraints. Once in position, Batgirl went to work and beamed as the metal ring fell away from her ankle. Moving the lock pick to her other hand would be simple this time. Both hands slid easily through the cage bars and came together naturally.

Working at her second leg restraint with her left hand was more difficult and the way her leg muscles protested the strain she had put on them was also an annoying hindrance, but to stay alive, she had to endure the discomfort. It took an entire revolution of her cage before Batgirl’s last limb was free. Despite the progress she had made, she was still a prisoner in Penguin’s cage and had not stopped cooking in the intensified lantern light of the nautical beacon.

Concerned about how long her muscles would respond to her thoughts, Batgirl exchanged her lock pick for a thin hacksaw blade and attacked the three locks holding her cage closed. She positioned the blade above the topmost lock and began to slowly draw her blade back and push it forward. The weight of the blade drew the tool downward as its teeth bit more and more deeply into the lock. Back and forth the hacksaw blade moved and metal filings fell to the stone floor. Batgirl’s arm grew tired of the work and she changed hands, continuing until the blade cut through the first lock.

“Good,” Batgirl whispered. She pushed at the domed half of her cage and returned to cutting at the locks when it did not budge. Her shoulders ached and she knew the majority of her strength had been sapped when the blade finished cutting through the second lock. Her tentative push against the cage door accomplished nothing, so Batgirl bent down and attacked the final lock as she proactively leaned against the door.

It seemed like an eternity before the cage door swung open and the captive cutie fell from the evil enclosure, landing hard and inelegantly. She tried to rise immediately, but could not. Gratefully, Batgirl remained prone on the stone floor, enjoying a strangely pleasant sensation. The cold stone seemed to draw all the heat from her body.

Batgirl had no idea how long she remained sprawled on the lighthouse lamp room floor. Presently, she lifted one hand and thrust it forward. Repeating this process with the other enabled her to raise her shoulders and thrust them forward, dragging herself a few inches before she collapsed, weak and exhausted. Her goal was the shadowy staircase her would-be killers had descended. She knew it would take time to reach that cool haven. Again she pulled herself forward a short distance before collapsing, utterly spent. Once enough strength had returned, she raised her arm once more, resuming the torturous journey that progressed at a depressingly glacial pace.

As she moved, she knew she had suffered several deep bruises; first degree burns all over her body, at the very least; dehydration; and fatigue bordering on exhaustion. Her will made her continue moving forward and when she finally reached the stairs, she reached for the railing and pulled herself weakly to her feet. She rested, leaning heavily against the wall and slowly adapting to upright movement once again. Slowly, supporting herself with every step, she carefully descended the stairs to the radio room, where she spotted a pitcher of water and a comfortable chair. She stumbled toward them, falling gratefully into the chair and taking a deep breath. Once her strength had returned, she poured a glass of water and drank it slowly, savoring the feel of the cool liquid as it moistened her dry mouth. Batgirl refilled her glass and drank more water more quickly. She was feeling dramatically better when all of the water was gone and she gratefully closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair and stretching her legs forward so her heels rested on the console beside the radio equipment. Sleep overcame her and she didn’t care as she plunged gently into its welcome embrace.

Meanwhile, Penguin cut the engine of the Batboat before it ran aground on the sandy beach of a secluded cove. “Now, my finks, are there any questions about your orders?”

“No, boss,” Bass confidently said.

“Leave everything to us,” Pike concurred.

“We’ll take care of the job,” Marlin assured him.

“We’ll take care of the job,” Parrot repeated.

“Good. Cora and I will establish an airtight alibi tonight and dispose of our ill-gotten gains tomorrow. Then, when the Dynamic Duo begin searching the sea for the corpse of their curvaceous colleague, they’ll find their way to oblivion instead. That will leave Batwoman and Flamebird to investigate and we’ve left them nothing to find - except their female colleague’s charred remains! Wak, wak, wak!”

“What do you mean, boss?” Bass asked, puzzled.

“You finks know we’ve cleared out of a nest I clearly defined in the minds of our enemies. Your next task will attend to Batman and Robin’s destruction and return the Batboat to its pier. Now, I have a question. Do you finks know where to collect your money and await further instructions?”

“Of course, Penguin,” Pike said.

“Good,” Penguin replied, nodding. “The Dynamic Duo can join Batgirl in the hereafter with my compliments. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Arranging their rendezvous will be a pleasure,” Marlin agreed.

Bass looked at his fellow finks and said, “Right. Let’s earn our money “

“Right,” Parrot repeated, as Penguin and Cora Sayers took their leave. “Let’s earn our money.”

“Where exactly are we going, Penguin?” the curly-haired cutthroat asked. “How can you be sure anyone will swear under oath we were . . . wherever we’re going . . . all night long?”

“One look at you should convince anyone, my dear,” Penguin said, winding an arm around her waist and squeezing her encouragingly.

“Thank you,” Cora Sayers said, turning to him and smiling, “but you still haven’t told me our destination.”

“I’ve rented the honeymoon suite at the Chessman Hotel for the entire week,” the Penguin announced, listening carefully and savoring the intake of her breath. “I thought the luxury it offered us would contrast nicely with the Spartan amenities of your lighthouse.”

“I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable there.”

“We will, my dear. I’m absolutely certain. I also know members of the hotel staff upon whom we can rely.”

“You’ll bribe them?”

“Easily,” Penguin confidently confirmed. “I remembered our luggage, after all. Wak, wak wak! The Chessman Hotel chain is also a worldwide outfit, so the distribution channels for our ill-gotten merchandise will make it quite untraceable. The service comes at a rather hefty price, but with what we stand to make, those costs are negligible.”

“I hope you don’t plan for us to walk all the way there,” the girl ominously said.

“Of course not,” Penguin replied, guiding them onto a deserted road. He twirled his umbrella with his free hand until it pointed upward and a plume of flame shot harmlessly into the air. As the flames vanished, the criminal mastermind pointed horizontally with his umbrella.

Cora Sayers’s gaze looked along Penguin’s umbrella shaft, where a pair of headlights flicked on and off twice before a limousine pulled up in front of them. A thin, brown-haired Briton wearing a chauffeur’s uniform emerged from the car and came around to open the door for his passengers.

“Good evening, Mister Penguin,” the man said pleasantly.

“Good evening, Mister Stannel,” Penguin replied. “It’s good to deal with someone so reliable in person.”

“Please call me Larry, sir. Let me say it is, as always, a pleasure to serve you.”

Indeed, when Larry Stannel previously worked for Penguin, the Briton had dealt with the supercriminal’s partner at the time, Legs Parker. After Penguin’s profits had been secured, Stannel had been responsible for selling the stolen loot and paying off the thieves. The negotiations with the young lady had been mutually satisfying in many ways, but before the agreed-upon transaction could be completed, the girl had been arrested. Subsequently, before Stannel could get new instructions, the formidable trio of henchwomen Penguin and Legs Parker had hired – Doe; Rae; and Mimi, Chandell’s felonious phantom girls - caught up with Stannel and, after a long night of intense ‘negotiations,’ persuaded him to turn the fruits of his efforts over to them.

“Larry,” Penguin said, regarding his driver, “it’s late. We need to go.”

“Of course, sir,” the chauffeur said. “Would you like me to take your bag?”

“I’ll hang on to it, Larry,” Penguin kindly replied. “Thank you.”

Larry Stannel closed the passengers’ door and stepped to the driver’s seat after Penguin had followed Cora Sayers inside. “I have to tell you, Mister Penguin,” the chauffeur said, “serving a renowned criminal genius like you once again is an honor, and - if I may be so bold, sir - quite an opportunity."

“I’m sure it is, Larry,” the Penguin replied, sounding bored. “Let’s go.” He reached for the control that raised the partition between the front and back seats of the car before selecting a complimentary cigarette, lighting it from the glowing end of the one in his cigarette holder, and exchanging them. He turned to Cora Sayers and saw she had found a chilled bottle of champagne, two appropriate glasses, and a corkscrew. He nodded and reached for the intercom. “Larry, we’re not it a hurry to get to the hotel. Drive us around town for awhile.” Cora Sayers was smiling delightedly when the Penguin leaned back. The cork popped from the bottle.

It was unclear to Batgirl how long she dozed in the radio room of Cora Sayers’ lighthouse. She felt almost like her old self as she stood. A glance around the room told her all of the items arranged on the table earlier that day were gone. ‘Penguin has flown the coop,’ Batgirl thought. She searched the lighthouse and the caves below it carefully, finding nothing of interest.

Then Batgirl realized, ‘The Batboat is missing!’

“I’m stranded!” the Curved Crusader exclaimed, letting her hands rest on her shapely hips. She had not seen another vehicle of any kind during her search. Even Penguin’s undersea crafts had vanished. Her utility belt had been destroyed, thus she had no means of private communication or vehicle tracking. The Batgirlcycle was at the dock where the Batboat was usually moored. She paced the radio room, considering contacting the police. Then, she brightened and hurried to a storage room where she had seen paint and paint brushes.

Later, Larry Stannel pulled the limousine to a stop in front of the Chessman Hotel. “Do you know your way to the honeymoon suite, Mister Penguin?” he asked, opening his passengers’ door.

“I believe so,” Penguin responded, shaking the young man’s hand. The villain held a plastic key card when their hands separated. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” Before the well-dressed villain wound an arm around Cora Sayers waist to lead her inside, he dipped a hand into his pocket and gave his male companion a fat envelope.

“Thank you, sir,” the Penguin’s chauffeur said to the villain’s retreating back.

“I love it,” Cora Sayers enthused as she explored their suite, moments later. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

“We’ll get room service,” Penguin decided, handing over a menu. “You know what the best part of this location is?”

“What?”

“We can just see the light cooking Batgirl to a delicious crisp. Wak, wak, wak!”

“That observation is delicious,” Cora Sayers agreed, setting the menu aside. “Show me.”

Penguin indicted a window the girl approached as her mouth curled into a wide grin. “I wonder how long she’ll last?” Cora Sayers pulled a curtain aside to gaze at the lighthouse. She stared for a moment as her wide grin transformed into a frown. “Hey, Pengy, since when has the Bat Signal been projected out to sea?”

“What are you talking about?” the criminal mastermind demanded.

“Look!”

Penguin stood beside her and regarded the distant scene as the dark shadow of a bat was surrounded by light and projected against the cloudy sky. “Unusual,” her companion remarked. “The Bat Signal is normally projected from the roof of Police Headquarters in Midtown. This time, however, it is indeed being projected out to sea . . . from your lighthouse!”

“Does that mean—?”

“Batgirl survived!” The villain was silent for a long moment. “Phaw! I would have sworn it was impossible!”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’ll stay here and attend to business. We’ve left no evidence whatsoever at the lighthouse and our alibi will hold up to intense scrutiny. Wak! Besides, that signal may allow the preparations the finks are making aboard the Batboat to function sooner than I’d planned.”

“In that case, we may yet have something to celebrate before the sun comes up.”

“Why don’t you order us another bottle of champagne with dinner?”

Cora Sayers let the curtain fall back into place and smiled as she crossed the room and picked up the phone.

“I have a better idea,” she announced. The girl set the phone down and reclined comfortably on the bed, turning to stretch out her legs. “Batgirl’s survival has made me lose my appetite. I’m sure it will return in time for brunch. Meanwhile, why don’t I serve dessert?”

“You’re wonderful, Cora,” Penguin said, approaching her. “You’ve had a delicious idea as well.”

“Hush,” the girl whispered, kicking her boots away and reaching for the buttons fastening her vest.

The lighthouse had been projecting the bat Batgirl had painted onto its lens for nearly an hour when she shielded her eyes against oncoming headlights. Batgirl smiled as she recognized the Batmobile before it pulled to a stop within ten yards of her. Batman slid from the driver’s seat and raced to her position beside the lighthouse door.

“Batgirl, I saw your signal.”

“I’m glad you did, Batman,” the red-headed heroine declared. “Penguin has directed at least two raids against local shipping from here and has tried to kill me twice while I was investigating him. Right now, there is no evidence we can use against him whatsoever and he’s gone to ground in the Batboat.”

“So,” Batman said, “you’re alive, but stranded here.”

“Precisely,” the Curved Crusader confirmed, grinning. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Batman said. “I’ll take you to the Batgirlcycle while you tell me the whole story. I take it you parked at the pier where I keep the Batboat.”

“Yes. Thanks.” As Batman drove, Batgirl told him in detail about her adventures, finishing her story as they arrived. “That’s odd,” Batgirl said, glancing at the Batboat’s berth. The boat was there, tied into place, bobbing in the waves as though it had never been taken out. “Why would Penguin return the Batboat?”

Batman had noted the boat’s presence before the car had stopped. He quickly slid down the single pole and began to carefully examine the craft with the aid of an overhead light mounted on the pier above him.

Meanwhile, Batgirl stepped from the car to her bike and took her backup utility belt from its place beneath the seat. She buckled it into place around her waist before her legs encircled the pole leading to the lower pier. Seconds later, she stood beside Batman. “Find anything?”

“Penguin has been very considerate,” Batman thoughtfully said. “I have a full tank of gas and, after a superficial examination, everything aboard appears shipshape.”

“Do you think it’s safe to go aboard? I left my boots and cape in a locker. Oh, I should apologize for losing your Bat-Fins and your helmet.”

“Think nothing of it, Batgirl. I think boarding is safe enough. We’ll have to do so, if I’m to examine the engine.”

Batgirl stepped aboard and slipped on her purple padded socks and boots. “What do you think Penguin did to the boat, besides ride it here?” she asked.

“I’ll know in a moment,” Batman said, opening a hatch that gave him access to the engine. Batgirl draped her cape over her shoulders and fastened it around her neck as she carefully watched the Caped Crusader examine the engine with the aide of his Batlight and a mirror. “Yes. It’s just as I thought.”

“What?”

“Penguin has introduced an electronic, remote control rudder to the engine that would enable him to control the Batboat from a distance, even while it is being piloted.”

“Diabolical!”

“It’s a trick I’ve employed against him in the past when he’s been foolish enough to steal one of my vehicles. As you know, a criminal’s overconfidence can be used against him to good effect from time to time.”

Batgirl grinned. She did know, having once used a similar mechanism to capture two of Egghead’s henchwomen.

Batman pulled a black cylinder from the Batboat engine, closed the hatch, and climbed to the pier. “An examination of this device in the Batcave may give us a clue.”

Batgirl followed him up the ladder and back onto the pier. “I’ve had a long night, Batman. Would you provide your findings to Commissioner Gordon?”

“Of course,” he answered. “Keeping the police informed of our progress on the case is not only sensible, it’s good manners. Doing so will be a pleasure. What are your plans regarding the case?"

“I need to personally do some research in the morning,” Batgirl announced. “I have a strange feeling Penguin has already stolen enough money to use as operating capital for whatever his big crime is. He, like many of our other adversaries, tends to pull smaller jobs while working up to a large, crowning caper.”

“You’re right. An ultimate crime is a distinct possibility.” Batman agreed. “I’ll ask the Batcomputer to try to anticipate what it might be.”

“Good,” Batgirl said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

As Batman hurried back to the Batcave, Batgirl drove to Barbara Gordon’s apartment. She spent a good hour soaking in a soothingly cool tub of water. Finally, once she had dried her now darkened flesh, she crawled gratefully into bed, collapsing and falling asleep as her head sank deeply into her pillow.

Late the next morning, Penguin was ushered into a plush office adjoining the casino at the Chessman Hotel. The curly haired, blond woman behind the desk stood and extended her hand. “You’re right on time, Mister Penguin.”

“Wak! Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Ms. Thelms,” Penguin replied, kissing her hand.

“Please call me Toddi,” the beautiful Briton smoothly said. “Now, sit down and tell me how I can help you.”

Penguin settled into one of her comfortable client chairs. “I have some items I’d like you to dispose of for me. I understand you do this kind of work on a percentage basis.”

“We do – for certain clients who present the right kind of merchandise.”

“I see. Wak! Feast your eyes, Toddi!” Penguin offered, displaying some of the jewels his finks had recently acquired.

Toddi examined the jewels with the aid of a jeweler’s glass and nodded. “I think we can do business, Mister Penguin. We usually ask for fifteen percent.”

“That figure, my dear, is outrageous! I’ll offer you five percent and given the quality of what I’m asking you to sell, you should be delighted.”

“Penguin,” Toddi seriously said, “I know the value of the work we’re discussing. I also know a little about your track record dealing with local professionals. A few of them seemed to go out of business quite suddenly after dealing with you.”

“Wak! You’ve done your homework. You must also know some of your remaining rivals are quite good. After all, you are in a competitive business.”

“Agreed,” Toddi said. “Of course, happily you came to us, and your decision was wise, since one can’t have every stolen item sold off in France. The black market there would be flooded.”

“I’d imagine French Freddy being in jail so often also complicates matters. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Not for us,” Toddi Thelms, replied, grinning wolfishly. “I understand the dear boy has been spending a great deal of time behind bars in recent years. Rumor has it, these periods of incarceration have a great deal to do with young, blond women.”

“There is a great deal to be said for young, blond women,” Penguin said, favoring his hostess with a smile.

“It’s too bad you brought a friend when you checked in. I suppose we’ll just have to stick to business.”

“If our venture works out, I’ll certainly come again.”

Toddi Thelms leaned forward and regarded him with glittering eyes. “I hope so,’ she said.

“Tell me, Toddi,” Penguin asked, “do you say that to all your male clients?”

The girl only smiled. Then her negotiations with the Penguin began in earnest. The figure of ten percent was decided upon within half an hour.

The shower was running when Penguin returned to his suite. The villain was poring over several stacks of documents arranged on the desk when Cora Sayers emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a large, black towel.

“Working already, Pengy?” she asked, pouting slightly.

“We got such a fair price for the jewels I brought to sell, I’m considering a completely different type of target for our next piratical venture.”

“Cash spends easily enough.”

“Wak! Indeed, my dear. Unfortunately, the United States Treasury does not helpfully send boatloads of cash cruising around the oceans for enterprising entrepreneurs like us to acquire.”

“The Treasury Department recently came up with 700 billion good reasons to form a bank,” Cora observed.

“I can easily imagine how 700 billion dollars sounds like lot of money,” Penguin replied. “I tell you, Cora, my cunning mind is hatching a plan as we speak that would make that sum, as considerable as it is, seem microscopic by comparison. Wak, wak, wak!”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, settling onto a corner of the bed from which she could observe the desk at which her employer worked.

“At times, the military transports information, personnel, or experimental technology that can be worth a great deal of money.”

“I recall reading, with great interest, about how you and a few colorful colleagues hijacked Commodore Schmidlapp of Big Ben Distilleries along with his invention, the total dehydrator.”

“Yes, Cora. Wak! The Commodore’s invention was the key to one of Catwoman’s most daring capers ever. Yet, without me, her plan would have been impossible.”

“She’s been your partner in crime on a number of occasions,” the girl observed.

“We work well together,” Penguin said, dismissively.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Cora Sayers said. “You know I did my homework before agreeing to help you with your piratical plan.”

“Really?” Penguin asked. He glanced at her and found he could not help examining her closely, given she had drawn the towel away from her bare shoulder and held it in place half way down her bare back. The supercriminal leaned forward as she regarded him.

“Oh yes. I found out one of Joker’s most faithful henchwomen essentially dumped him for you. I’ve read about how you tried twice, on different occasions, to get married and thereby achieve ulterior, criminal motives. Finally, in addition to me, Florence of Arabia, and Catwoman, you routinely surround yourself with beautiful women when you work.”

“Did you come to any conclusions in the course of your research?” Penguin asked, focusing with interest on Cora Sayers’ pretty face.

“Of course I did. I’m sure you can make us both filthy rich,” the girl said, her eyes glittering.

“Indeed I can.”

“There was one more thing,” Cora Sayers said.

“Oh?”

“I developed a suspicion while I was doing my homework and it turned into a theory.”

“Really,” Penguin said, unable to tear his eyes from her.

“Oh yes,” Cora Sayers replied. “By the way, I really should tell you–”

“What?”

“You’ve ably proven my theory,” she told him.

“Cora, if this conversation isn’t going anywhere, we can always get down to business.”

“You are totally irresistible to women,” she said huskily, setting a ring she had taken from their stolen merchandise aside.

“That fact has been remarked upon,” Penguin confessed, rising and approaching her. Cora Sayers pivoted and leaned back, letting her head sink into the pillow as the towel fell away from her body. Penguin bent over her and she reached up, drawing his mouth to hers, kissing him and rolling over.

Seconds later, her fingers were loosening his tie. The Penguin didn’t mind at all.

“Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?” Cora Sayers asked, much later when Penguin’s eyes opened. Her hand slid slowly across his bare chest.

“There is,” Penguin said, stretching out completely. “I’m afraid it’s work related, though.”

“That’s too bad,” she replied, feigning disappointment. “Tell me anyway.”

“I need you to get dressed and go buy a ship-to-shore radio. We left the lighthouse too quickly to bring yours along.”

“Why do we need the ship-to-shore radio?” she asked, rolling onto her side to regard him. “I could just go to the lighthouse–”

“No!” Penguin objected, propping himself up on his elbows. “Batgirl has escaped our trap there.”

“Unfortunately,” the girl petulantly remarked, rolling onto her back and looking up at him.

“Wak! The police – or someone more formidable – will be watching. We do not have time to deal with such complications. Just buy a radio so I can monitor the military channels. We can easily afford it and you were remarking earlier about how easily cash spends.”

“I will if you want me to, Pengy, but might not the authorities have an all points bulletin out on me by now or something?”

‘You may have a point, my dear,” Penguin said, lighting a cigarette. “Nevertheless, we need a ship-to-shore radio. I’m open to suggestions.”

Cora Sayers thought for a long moment. “You’ve built several nests around town over the years. Is there a ship-to-shore radio at any of them?”

Penguin smiled down at her and blew a smoke ring. “Great quivering icebergs, Cora! There is! Wak, wak, wak!” he enthused. “Contact the finks and have them meet us. They won’t want to miss watching a mere criminal genius devise a perfidious, piratical plot with the aide of the United States Navy!”

“Why would the Navy help you make your plans? Won’t they be our target?”

“Indeed! Wak, wak, wak! Indeed they will, but trust me. I know precisely what I’m doing! I also know you’ll want a bathing suit this afternoon. We’ll stop by the hotel gift shop on our way out within the hour!”

“You’re serious about this timing,” Cora Sayers said, blinking up at him. “Can’t I persuade you to stay with me a little longer?”

Penguin crushed out his cigarette and glanced at the clock. “You like it here, don’t you, Cora?”

“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? It’s much more fun when you’re around.”

“We should get cleaned up before we go out,” the villain pointed out, winking at her. “Why don’t you run us a bath?”

“A bird bath?”

“You might say that. Wak, wak, wak!”

Barbara Gordon had no idea what the Penguin was planning, but had done her day’s work at the library in record time before sequestering herself in her office, with instructions to her staff to avoid disturbing her – except in a dire emergency. She was online, sifting through the available information on local shipping.

After about an hour, she had compiled lists of potential targets and knew it would be impossible for her to protect all of them. ‘I wonder if Batman has had any luck?” she thought. Barbara smiled and reached for her phone. “Myrtle,” she said to her assistant, “I’m going out for lunch and may take some time to get back. If fact, I may not see you until tomorrow.”

“No problem, Barbara,” the assistant librarian, who had grown used to these sudden announcements, said.

Barbara hurried home, spun her bedroom wall, and underwent her tantalizing transformation. Moments later, she was on her way to Police Headquarters in the guise of Batgirl. She was admitted to her father’s office while he was out and walked purposefully across the room to lift the cover from the red phone. Batman was on the line seconds after she hit the call button.

“Yes, Commissioner?” the Caped Crusader’s deep voice asked.

“This is Batgirl, Batman,” the heroine announced. “I was hoping you had a lead on Penguin.”

“I’m afraid I have very little concrete information. The device Penguin left on the Batboat was constructed of easily-obtained, common, electronic components. So, it was a dead end.”

“That’s too bad.”

“My inquiries of the Batcomputer may be of more use. I’ve determined the most lucrative direction in which Penguin could possibly point his piratical talents would be at a military target.”

“You mean, he might hit the United States Navy!?”

“Precisely. Penguin often constructs his crime sprees around themes, such as birds, umbrellas, elections, movie-making, horse racing, fossils, electromagnetism–”

“I understand, Batman.”

“Ah . . . yes. Well, if we’re right about his crimes building to a criminal coup and his having already stolen adequate operating capital, and considering he previously targeted the Hexagon, a strike involving the Navy is a distinct possibility. The Coast Guard, Marines or the navy of another country might be possible, but I think the U. S. Navy is the most likely.”

“How would the two of us go about protecting our nation’s navy, Batman?” she asked.

“Through anticipation,” Batman replied. “I’ve learned a certain Admiral Fangschleister, with whom I discussed the sale of a pre-atomic submarine before he was promoted, will be in Gotham City tonight for a meeting at the Hexagon.”

“Wasn’t that submarine one of the keys to Penguin’s plan when he, Joker, Riddler, and Catwoman threatened the United World Organization?”

“I’m delighted you’re familiar with that case, Batgirl,” the Caped Crusader complimented. “It took place before your time.”

Batgirl smiled. “Know your history,” she intoned, “lest ye be doomed to repeat it.”

“Well said. I suspect the Admiral’s knowledge of current Navy operations would make him an ideal target for Penguin.”

“Good thinking, Batman. I could keep an eye on the Hexagon. I’ve been there before.”

“I don’t think the Admiral will be in any danger while at the Hexagon. I believe the military has had standing orders to shoot the Penguin on sight for several years. He once stole some outdated plans for a tank from room Z and the general in charge at the time was very upset, despite his exclusive movie contract with Penguin Productions.”

“Okay. So where and when do you think Penguin will strike at the Admiral?”

“He arrived earlier today on a private yacht upon which he is traveling incognito for security reasons.”

“How will Penguin know about the Admiral’s movements if Fangschleister is traveling incognito?”

“I think I can persuade the Navy to allow some details concerning the Admiral ‘s whereabouts to be broadcast in routine radio messages Penguin will likely be monitoring.”

“Are you proposing to use an admiral in the United State Navy as bait for the Penguin?!”

“I think Penguin will try to kidnap him regardless of my actions. Besides, the Navy saw the situation my way when I discussed our options in a conference call earlier today. You and I should be watching the Admiral tonight.”

“Well, it sounds like we have a plan then. Where and when shall I meet you?” Batman told her before outlining the details of protecting the naval officer.

“Your plan sounds good. It occurs to me, if we find Penguin and his gang this afternoon, he may not have a chance to kidnap the Admiral tonight.”

“Good thinking, Batgirl. How do you propose to find Penguin?”

“I imagine he’s abandoned the lighthouse since the police will be watching it. That means he’ll retire to one of his old nests to wait for his chance at the Admiral. Checking them all out will take time, but, between the two of us, we should be able to search most of them.”

“You’ve done it again, Batgirl. I’ll investigate some of his older haunts, while you take the more recent ones.”

Moments later, the Batmobile roared toward Gotham City and some of the businesses the Penguin had used as fronts for his past criminal schemes. The umbrella store and factory at K G Bird & Co was utterly deserted. The Penguin Protective Agency, where the sign said, ‘Under Penguin’s Umbrella Perfect Security,’ also remained abandoned. Batman found nothing at South Pier, the one-time waterfront rendezvous of another group of Penguin’s seagoing scoundrels. Silence had lease at the Penguin Campaign Headquarters from his abortive run for mayor years ago. Likewise, the meeting place for the Grand Order of Occidental Nighthawks, where Batman and Robin had once been lowered into bubbling vat of sulfuric acid on a scale balanced with melting ice, was locked up tightly. The Penguin’s Nest restaurant remained closed, as did Penguin Production Studios, the wily bird’s movie making enterprise.

Batgirl found the roost Penguin had used when he teamed up with Mr. Freeze years ago as abandoned as The Iceberg Lounge or Florence of Arabia Belly dancing nightclub, where he and the establishment’s owner had tried to feed the heroine to a school of stolen piranha. Likewise, the abandoned, riverside eatery where she had subsequently captured her would-be killers’ gang was securely locked. She was delighted to find the ‘seaside hideout’ where Penguin had launched all of Gotham City’s caped defenders from torpedo tubes under military guard and she drove away smiling. ‘Now where?’ she wondered. ‘Penguin directed a power outage that had put all of Gotham City in the dark from a base in Churchill, Manitoba, but he wasn’t likely to have retreated there.’ Frustrated, she drove to an alley behind the notorious Ye Olde Benbow Taverne and threw a Batrope to the roof.

The gabled window admitted her to the empty, main room of United Underworld’s one-time headquarters. She heard no sound and flitted from room to room stealthily, finding nothing. The establishment had once been known for dancing; fighting; and drinking, as well as a front from which the pulse of the Gotham City underworld could be monitored. After an avaricious barmaid named Maria had taken over after "removing" her boss, the establishment had become a center for underworld communication and talent recruitment. Batgirl had taken advantage of the opportunity to shut the establishment down when Maria had ordered the Curved Crusader taken for a boat ride and drowned. Batgirl’s memories swirled as she returned to her dangling Batrope.

Batgirl checked the time and wondered whether Batman had better luck tracking Penguin as the Batgirlcycle cruised along the streets around Gotham Harbor. “Where can either of them be?” she demanded of no one in particular. Her mind worked furiously. ‘If Penguin is really going to target the United States Navy, he’ll need information. Could Batman’s plan to watch over Admiral Fangschleister and nab Penguin at a kidnapping attempt work?’ She pulled over and pulled out her cell phone.

“No, Batgirl,” the Commissioner said. “I haven’t heard anything from Batman this afternoon, but I was out of the office for a long lunch meeting. Let me check with Chief O’Hara.” A moment later, the Chief had joined the electronic conference.

“Sure an’ Batman has not checked in since last night, but he usually doesn’t, unless he has important information to pass along. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Batman is perfectly capable of taking care of himself,” Batgirl said. “I’m just wondering where Penguin went. It’s like he vanished.”

“Penguin is rumored to have a secret island hideaway,” the Commissioner said. “Of course, one reason its location remains secret is Penguin never seems to go there.”

“Begorra!” Chief O’Hara agreed. “Hey, I just remembered something. Penguin once set up an ambush for the Dynamic Duo at the Navy Recreation Center swimming pool. It was abandoned at the time and was later closed in accordance with a Congressional Base Closing Commission’s recommendations. I know because Penguin locked me in a chest and dumped it in the pool. An electrical cable would have fried me while Penguin’s finks shot up the Dynamic Duo if Batman hadn’t foiled that devil’s plan.”

“I’ll look there,” Batgirl decided. “If Batman checks in, tell him where I went. I just might get lucky and find Penguin.”

“Do you want me to send some men?” the Chief asked.

“There is no guarantee we’ll find Penguin. I’d hate to waste your people’s time if we’re wrong.”

“We’ll play it your way, of course, Batgirl,” the Commissioner said. “Be careful.”

“Thank you for your trust and concern, Commissioner. I’ll call you back after awhile. Goodbye.” Batgirl hung up, put her phone away, and began her journey toward the abandoned Navy Recreation Center.

“The order is confirmed, sir,” the voice on the ship-to-shore radio said. “The escort will muster in two hours.”

“Aye aye, sir. Two hours it is.”

“Did you hear that, my unfathomable finks?” Penguin inquired. He went on without permitting any of his henchmen to respond. “The Navy is behaving precisely as I predicted. As long as we can watch the muster at the Hexagon, following the Admiral’s entourage will be simplicity itself. Wak, wak, wak!”

“So, we’re going to ransom this Admiral back to the government?” Pike asked.

“No!” Penguin answered, conking the thug on the head with his umbrella. “The Admiral will provide us with information we’ll need to steal Navy secrets, and those secrets in the hands of a criminal mastermind, such as myself, will make us all rich.”

“Make us all rich!” Parrot repeated.

“What do we know about this Admiral?” Bass asked.

“I’ve been monitoring Navy transmissions all afternoon,” Penguin explained. “They’ve foolishly told me Admiral Fangschleister is traveling incognito for high level meetings at the Hexagon and that he’ll be escorted back to his yacht within hours. He plans to be dining and sleeping aboard tonight.”

“Only, we’re going to grab him, right, boss?” Marlin asked.

“Precisely. Prepare to move out, while I tell Cora to get changed and ready. Wak!”

“Boss,” Pike said, “I know the pool is heated, but I still don’t understand how Cora can stand to spend all afternoon swimming this time of year in an outdoor pool.”

“As you may be aware,” Penguin explained, “the military develops advanced technology years before it finds its way into common use. The pool area has been made comfortable using an array of antique parabolic halogen heaters. I cannot seriously believe you’re complaining.”

“I’m not complaining, boss. I was just wondering. Cora is certainly very—”

“Isn’t she though?” the villain agreed. He glanced through a window and inhaled, studying his current, marvelous-looking mermaid with interest as she dried herself beside the diving board. “Wak, wak, wak! There is no question. You have the answer to your question and your instructions. Now, move!”

“The only place to which you’ll be moving, Penguin, is back to prison,” an authoritative female voice said, “where you’ll dine and sleep tonight – and for the rest of what will likely be an extended term!”

The finks whirled toward a purple-clad figure, standing near the street door with hands on her hips and legs spread to shoulder width. “Batgirl!” the awestruck henchmen exclaimed.

“So, you found us,” Penguin said. “I’d suspected you survived our warm hospitality at the lighthouse.”

“I told you I would,” she confidently said.

“We’ll see how smug you are after my finks shiver you from stem to stern. Mash her!”

“Wait!” another female voice cried as the men moved to attack. They hesitated in time to see Cora Sayers stride into the room with her wet, brown hair framing her face and flowing behind her shoulders. Her mostly-male audience could not help becoming spellbound as the hair falling behind her shoulders swayed like a pendulum whenever her body moved. The sandals she wore did nothing to enhance this entrancing effect, but the wet, black bikini her proportional figure magnificently filled out being molded closely to her every curve lent her ensemble the power to enchant observers with utter fascination. As picturesque as Penguin’s paramour was, the small, double-barreled guns she held in her hands captured everyone’s attention. A pair of darts impaled Batgirl’s hips beside the heroine’s hands as the henchwoman continued speaking. “I’ll incapacitate Batgirl for you. I saw her pull up on the Batgirlcycle while I was climbing out of the pool.”

Stabbing pain made Batgirl gasp as she snatched the darts from her body, tossing them contemptuously aside. Cora Sayers grinned and launched a dart into each of Batgirl’s shoulders just beside the heroine’s neck. Numbness replaced the pain the darts initially caused, spreading out rapidly from the wounds. Batgirl reached to wrench the second pair of darts from her body, but felt her arms fall helplessly to her sides. Suddenly, the muscles in her arms refused to respond to mental commands and the darts remained where they had penetrated her flesh.

“Good shooting, my dear,” Penguin complimented. “I see you’ve been exploring the medical supplies as well as the pool.”

“The muscle relaxants with which I treated those darts seem remarkably effective. I suppose they hadn’t expired yet after all. I trust Batgirl, however, presently will.”

“Whatever you have planned for me will fail,” Batgirl said. Her hands were hanging at belt level. Unseen, she managed to get her fingers to open the compartment of her belt holding her Universal Bat Antidote Pills.

“Come and get me,” Cora Sayers invited, grinning wickedly. Batgirl shifted her feet, trying to step toward the henchwoman. Unfortunately, the Curved Crusader's legs muscles seemed composed of mush and she collapsed helplessly.

Batgirl managed to slide the hand holding her antidote pill toward her mouth and to maneuver the pills beneath her tongue. ‘Now, if this antidote is strong enough to counteract the criminals’ drugs, I’ll have a slim chance to survive,’ Batgirl thought. ‘Otherwise . . . .’

“How was the water in the pool, Cora?” Penguin asked, casting a baleful glance at Batgirl and catching her attackers’ eye.

“Oh, it’s warm, like swimming in soup, Pengy. I’m sure Batgirl will enjoy a little dip. I’ll leave you boys to entertain her while I change, but I’ll be listening for a nice, loud splash.”

“Bring Batgirl, finks,” Penguin commanded, leading the way to the pool area and watching his scantily-clad sycophant cross it and disappear into the women’s changing room. When he turned to his men, they were swinging the heroine’s body beside the deep end, building momentum.

“Avast there! Wak!” Penguin called. “We have a few final details to which to attend before we make Batgirl all wet.”

“What are you talking about?” Bass demanded.

“She’s helpless,” Marlin agreed. “If we throw her in, she’s finished.”

“She’s finished,” Parrot reiterated.

“Aren’t we going to kill her?” Pike asked.

“Not to worry, my fatalistic finks. We certainly will dispose of Batgirl,” Penguin confirmed. He reached the captive cutie’s body and bent over her. “First, however, we’ll remove her utility belt.” Penguin reached for the buckle and did so. “Then, we’ll position her on the slide and bid her a fond farewell before her final, fatal splashdown. Wak, wak, wak!”

A moment later the finks had seated Batgirl atop the slide. Her muscles had not allowed her to resist in the slightest.

Penguin laughed and addressed her. “I’ve never seen you so meek in such a position, Batgirl. It’s as though you know you haven’t a chance.”

“There’s always a chance, Penguin. Criminals, even allegedly brilliant ones, always overlook something.”

“Look over here, if you can,” Penguin invited. Batgirl cocked her head to one side and saw him holding her utility belt over the water. “There may be something in here that could save you. Wak!” He released the belt with a casual flip and all eyes watched it sink slowly to the center of the pool. “You can’t say I didn’t give you a sporting chance.”

“That splash was tiny, Pengy,” Cora Sayers complained, returning to the villain’s side dressed as she had been at her lighthouse. “Batgirl should be nearly drowned by now.”

“I didn’t want you to miss a scintillating second of Batgirl's finish, Cora. Since you captured our accomplished escape artist, I’d like you to take her down, so to speak,” Penguin explained, gesturing toward the slide.

Cora Sayers took in the sinister scene with a satisfied glance and smiled. “Well now, it seems we’ve developed an inescapable arrangement we’ll be able to enjoy until its conclusion. I’d love to, Pengy,” she said. “Thank you.” She climbed the slide ladder and leaned against Batgirl’s back.

“Any time you’re ready, Cora,” Penguin encouraged.

“Any last words, Batgirl?” the henchwoman asked.

“You’ll all be punished for my murderous treatment!” Batgirl said.

“I’m sure it will be much worse for you, even if you’re right,” Penguin predicted. “Once you hit the water, you’ll try to keep your head above the surface. Your marvelous muscles will not, though, respond. You’ll be paralyzed with fear and sink below the surface, trying vainly to come up for air. You’ll inhale water and enjoy exquisite, inescapable pain as liquid fills your lungs, drowning you. The best part is, since no living soul even suspects we were ever here, your death will be ruled an unfortunate accident. Wak, wak, wak!”

“We’ll see, won’t we, Penguin?” Batgirl asked. She hoped Penguin had delayed long enough to allow her antidote to work. Prolonging the inevitable much longer would be unlikely.

“Indeed,” Penguin crowed. “Happy landings, Batgirl, and bon voyage.”

As Cora Sayers’ hands settled onto Batgirl’s shoulders and the other villains looked on, anticipating the henchwoman’s murderous move, the Batmobile roared to a stop on the other side of the area’s security fence.

“Surrender, Penguin!” Batman shouted, sliding from the driver’s seat. “I’ve caught you with your feathers down this time. You’ll never get away.”

Cora sent Batgirl’s body down the slide and jumped down to the pool deck, fleeing.

Helpless, Batgirl could not stop herself from hitting the water, sending a plume of water skyward as she sank into the deep end. “Unless you save her, Batman, Batgirl will drown. Meanwhile, we’ll be leaving you two alone. Come!”

Batman clambered over the fence as the Penguin and his finks followed the fleeing girl, abandoning the Navy Recreation Center. Dropping to the pool deck, Batman glanced after the crooks and hurried to the water’s edge, where he reached out to grip Batgirl’s submerged shoulder. He pulled her to the side of the pool with one hand and lifted her to safety. She bent coughing. “Go get Penguin! I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Go!” Batgirl replied, collapsing beside the pool. She could feel control of her muscles slowly returning, but felt it would be best to rest, leaving the crooks to Batman.

The Caped Crusader raced to the street in front of the facility and saw it was deserted. “Not a clue,” he muttered.

Returning to the pool, Batman found Batgirl standing, dripping, and pulling her utility belt from a net she let clatter to the cement deck as he approached. “I’m glad to see you. I might have taken in too much water before the Universal Bat Antidote nullified the effects of the muscle relaxants with which they injected me.”

“I’m glad you survived your encounter with those fiends, Batgirl. Nothing is sacred to those devils. I’m afraid they were too fast for me this time.”

“Well, I learned they plan to follow Admiral Fangschleister to his yacht and kidnap him. Penguin thinks the Admiral knows secrets which might be exploited." Batgirl buckled her belt around her waist and reached for a discarded towel.

After drying her face, the heroine continued. "If he’s right, Penguin could make a lot of money betraying our country to her enemies. Do you think he would try holding the nation for ransom?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that infernal bird’s ambitions. He has, however, performed some patriotic acts in the past,” Batman replied. “Nevertheless, love of money is the root of all evil. There is no telling what Penguin will learn or how he plans to make use of whatever information he may obtain. Fortunately, I know where the Admiral’s yacht will be berthed tonight. We’ll be waiting for Penguin when he arrives. Right now, we have ample time to make our preparations. Will you need a dry costume?”

“I’ll be fine, Batman. Thank you,” she replied. “Today I’ve chosen to wear a wetsuit. Its material draws moisture away from my body and, together with the built-in air pockets, keeps me drier and therefore warmer. It also wicks moisture away from my body to spread it over the fabric’s surface to speed up drying.”

“Amazing!” Batman exclaimed. “Your approach may be more effective than super-thermo-B long underwear; Batthermal Underwear; or even Super Thermalized Batskivies. Of course, preparedness is an important arrow in the crime fighter’s proverbial quiver.”

“Given that axiom,” Batgirl said, regarding her companion with twinkling eyes, “why don’t you and I grab a couple of Batburgers at Dunbar’s Diner and then scout the harbor before setting our ambush for Penguin?”

“Good thinking, Batgirl,” the Caped Crusader readily agreed, favoring her with a rare smile. “Let’s go!”

That evening, Batman and Batgirl waited high among the sails of a pleasure boat berthed beside Admiral Fangschleister’s yacht. Batman spotted the Admiral walking along the pier and signaled Batgirl. She nodded.

The Admiral stepped aboard and was promptly greeted by two uniformed, young women who led him into the cabin. Batman and Batgirl were poised for action, but relaxed when nothing suspicious happened. They remained perched and watching until Penguin, Cora Sayers, and four finks stepped onto the pier an hour later.

Batgirl indicated the criminal and his entourage. Batman raised his hand. “We’ll need to wait for them to commit a crime before we arrest them,” the Caped Crusader cautioned.

Both Penguin’s plundering of Captain Miles Cutler’s Gotham Harbor tour boat and the finks looting the sunken, jewel-filled vault sprang to Batgirl’s mind. The three attempts on her life obviously also qualified as crimes. The Curved Crusader knew, however, what the more-experienced Dark Knight meant.

First, with Penguin under police surveillance at the time of the first theft, his involvement in the robbery would be difficult to prove. The villain had also been speaking to her when the second robbery had been initiated. Finally, it had proven almost impossible to convict criminals for attempting to kill Gotham City’s masked heroes in the past. Their secret identities invariably presented an insurmountable obstacle for District Attorney Harvey Dent – unless there were civilian witnesses to such crimes.

“You’re right, Batman,” his curvaceous counterpart agreed. Her muscles had already tensed with anticipation. Now, she felt them relax slightly. The caped crimefighters waited, watching.

Penguin’s voice carried from the deck of the yacht once the criminal and his companions stepped aboard. “All right, my finks, incapacitate the crew and set them all ashore before we get under way with the Admiral. Wak, wak, wak!”

The finks spread out and tossed cylinders emitting what looked like smoke below decks and into the cabins. Soon they had donned gas masks and begun carrying their victims to the pier.

Batgirl cast a questioning glance at Batman. “He’s obviously kidnaping the Admiral by stealing the yacht.”

“Obviously,” Batman agreed. “Fewer innocent people, though, will be likely to get hurt if we wait just a little longer.” Batgirl nodded reluctantly. Soon, the Admiral’s companions and his crew had been arranged on the pier. “Other than being unconscious, they seem fine.” Batman shifted in his perch.

“Are you ready to kick some butt?” Batgirl asked, flexing her limbs to get the blood flowing.

Batman almost corrected Batgirl for using such language – as he would have Robin – but thought better of it. Instead, he smiled and said, “Just about.”

“Prepare to cast off!” the Penguin cried, moving behind the wheel. His finks dispersed to free the yacht from its moorings. Cora Sayers was not on deck.

“Let’s go,” Batman said.

Batgirl’s teeth flashed as she slid along a line and let go, literally landing on a pair of finks as the craft slid quietly from its slip. Bass and Pike collapsed beneath Batgirl, who delivered a punishing blow to each of them before straightening. Marlin had been far enough away to escape the sudden attack and approached warily in a fighting stance. Batgirl blocked one punch before stepping back and launching a showgirl kick that sent him sprawling.

Meanwhile, Parrot reached for her from behind and gripped her shoulder. The remaining fink intended to spin her into the path of his onrushing fist, thus neutralizing the threat that had literally swooped in on them. Just as he pulled his intended victim into position, he felt a hand grip his shoulder in turn and yank him around. Dark, blue knuckles slammed into his nose, shattering it. As Parrot fell, Batman crossed the deck and fired a fist into Penguin’s chin, knocking the supervillain into a wall.

“Finks!” the wily bird bellowed. “Batter these boarders!” He charged at Batman, thrusting his umbrella forward. Batman swept the attack aside and brought his elbow forward, impacting Penguin’s chest hard as the villain’s legs were cut from beneath him.

Batgirl retreated one step into the cabin accessible from the main deck so that her opponents would not be able to come swarming at her. Bass bull-rushed her through the door first and she met him with her second showgirl kick. This attack propelled him through the air and deposited him on the deck with a satisfying smack He remained where he was.

Pike burst through the door and shoved Batgirl to one side. She recovered her balance, catching herself on the doorframe and glancing over her shoulder at Pike, who was preparing to take her out. She tumbled to the deck and caught Pike’s legs between her own. Suddenly, the fink was powerless to prevent his thighs and upper body from hitting the deck the moment his legs were cut from beneath him at the involuntarily bending knees and the ankles, into which Batgirl’s calf slammed. She ignored his startled cry and grinned at the thud as he hit the deck. Seconds later, Batgirl painfully twisted his outstretched limbs behind his back and banged his head against the deck repeatedly.

Batgirl had not yet regained her feet when Parrot and Marlin entered the cabin. They glanced at one another with a wicked grin and approached, seizing her shoulders from behind. They pulled her roughly to her feet and turned her around, flinging her roughly against the wall. She impacted it and remained stunned momentarily while the finks slammed a shoulder each into her chest, knocking the wind from her. The tandem attack continued as they pressed the heroine against the wall, pummeling her solar plexus with body blows.

She began to sag when Parrot was lifted and flung head-over-heels to the deck, impacting with a stunning smack. Batgirl instinctively blocked Marlin’s next gut shot and rammed her knee into the fink’s groin. She inhaled as he fell to his knees and thrust her boot heel into his face. Batgirl followed up her attack by dropping a knee into the center of her opponent’s chest and bouncing his head off the deck with a straight punch. She regained her feet and surveyed the human debris. The fight was clearly over and Batman gripped his partner’s hand, shaking it.

“What happened to Penguin?” Batgirl asked.

“I Bat-cuffed him to the wheel,” the Caped Crusader replied. “We’ll have a word with him after wrapping up these finks.”

Moments later, they found the wheel of the yacht unoccupied. “He can’t have gone far,” Batgirl pointed out.

“I sincerely doubt he left this boat,” Batman concurred. “He’ll have gone below deck.”

“Right,” Batgirl agreed. “I haven’t see Cora Sayers on deck since the crooks arrived. It looks like she’s kept busy since this little voyage began.”

“You may be right,” Batman acknowledged. “We’ve got to make sure Admiral Fangschleister is safe. There is no telling what these devils will do to him or try to compel him to do.”

Batgirl nodded, leading the way below decks.

“We’ll split up and find him,” Batman decided. “Be careful of Penguin.”

“I will. You be careful of Penguin’s girl. Cora Sayers is formidable. She’s caught me twice and I’m not planning to give her another shot at me.”

Batgirl soon found the Admiral bound to a bunk and gagged. She bent and took the gag from his mouth.

“Thank you,” the captive said. “The girl who tied me up was bragging about how brutal the gang she used to be in as a kid was. She took great pleasure in telling me the Penguin would let her fillet me alive if I didn’t cooperate!”

“In a minute, sir, you won’t have to worry about that,” Batgirl said, bending over to cut him free.

Meanwhile, Batman moved forward, creeping toward a lavender top hat visible in a ray of waning sunlight. When he reached it, he realized the hat had been hung on a nail beside a ladder leading to the main deck. Batman plucked the hat from the nail and examined it quickly. ‘There is absolutely nothing unusual about this top hat,’ Batman thought. He murmured, “Therefore, it must be—“

“A trap?” a female voice behind him sweetly inquired. “I would have thought you’d realize that much more quickly, Batman.” The Caped Crusader felt two keen-edged knives caress his throat.

“You must be Cora Sayers.”

“That’s right.”

“You poor deluded creature,” Batman said. “I’ve seen many similar cases. Tragically, the Penguin has seduced you with promises of easy money.”

“Hey, my love life is none of your business, Bats!”

“You misunderstand,” her victim hastily explained. “What I’m trying to say is, crime never pays. It is only through education, hard work, and perseverance—“

“Shut up and climb!” Cora Sayers commanded, pressing the knives more firmly against him. “If I had wanted to listen to endless, boring lectures, I would have gone to my classes while I was in school!”

Batman began to climb the ladder. Cora Sayers skillfully climbed alongside him, keeping her deadly blades in place against his throat. She only released the Caped Crusader when a pair of umbrella handles caught his armpits and drew him up to the main deck. Looking up, she could see a plume of colored smoke and smiled as Batman’s body went limp. Batman had vanished moments later and Cora Sayers gained the deck after putting her knives away.

“Well done, my dear,” the Waddling Pirate of Plunder complimented. “The men will finish tying our new prisoner’s limbs and we’ll heave him over the side.”

“Do you mean we’re going to make him walk the plank?” the girl asked eagerly.

“Wak! What a delightful notion,” the villain enthused. “Unfortunately, the paralyzing gas has rendered him incapable of doing so, and I’m in too great a hurry to wait for it to wear off. Don’t worry. Batman will struggle to keep his head above water until his nerves settle down and his body begins to ache. The only way to relive the aching will be to remain still, but then he’ll start to sink. So, he’ll continue to struggle and exhaust himself. Minute by minute, his strength will ebb away. Eventually, he’ll have no choice but to allow the water to close above his head. Wak, wak, wak!”

“So, he will suffer the fate from which he saved Batgirl?”

“Wak! Precisely,” Penguin confirmed.

Cora Sayers grinned. “Splendid. I can’t wait.”

“I have no intention in letting you,” Penguin replied. “Wak, wak, wak!”

The Admiral had set his feet on the floor and massaged his extremities until the blood flow had resumed when he and Batgirl heard a tremendous splash and the Penguin’s sudden, delighted cackle.

“What was that?” the Admiral asked.

“Stay here while I find out,” Batgirl commanded. “Once I’ve dealt with the situation, I’ll be back.” She hurried away before the naval officer could argue.

When Batgirl arrived on deck, she was immediately aware the craft’s engine had been engaged. Penguin, Cora Sayers, and the finks stood lined up along one rail, watching the water.

She moved silently closer and was momentarily paralyzed with horror. Batman’s cowled head was bobbing crazily in the yacht’s wake while his cape spread over the surface of the sea!

“What have you done Penguin?!” Batgirl demanded.

“Welcome back to the deck, Batgirl,” the villain said. “Behold the bound, incapacitated hero in his final moments. Wak, wak, wak!”

“You’re despicable!” Batgirl declared. “Your plans for the Admiral have failed and you won’t get away with murder either!”

“Well, wak! Batman’s ropes and my finely-filtered Penguin gas suggest otherwise. He would no doubt cut himself free and survive in an instant,” Penguin predicted, “if he were conscious. I assure you, you’ll understand what’s happening to him perfectly in just a few minutes. Finks, seize her!”

As the finks came toward her, Batgirl knew she had more important things to do than fight them. Time was critical and she could certainly not allow them to obey their employer. ‘ Batman might only have seconds to live!’

Batgirl didn’t hesitate. Pike took a swing at her and received a boot to the groin for his trouble. She vaulted to the rail as the fink fell to his knees, but Parrot and Bass darted around him and seized each of the Curved Crusader’s arms.

“Hold her,” Marlin urged, as Batgirl was dragged back to the deck.

As soon as Batgirl’s feet hit the deck, she twisted and fired a battle-honed elbow into each fink’s gut. Parrot felt two fists pound his ribs with the force of driven pistons before he bent painfully over the rail.

Marlin charged at her as Batgirl leaped into the air. He imagined she would return to her perch on the rail, but instead he saw her spin and extend a leg that slammed into the side of his neck, dropping him to the deck.

Only Bass remained when Batgirl landed. She dropped to one knee, spinning and cutting his legs from beneath him.

Before any of Penguin’s finks could recover, Batgirl vaulted to the rail, from which she dove into the sea. After a few seconds, she surfaced beside Batman’s bobbing, cowled head.

“Just as I’d planned!” Penguin crowed.

“What? She got away!” Cora Sayers petulantly observed. “Worse! She’ll save Batman!” The henchwoman whirled on the finks, who were slowly recovering.

Penguin sensed her intention and intervened. “Finks,” he said. “Man your battle stations while we get out of here. There is not a moment to be lost. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Pengy—“

“Watch, Cora,” Penguin commanded, his voice quivering with barely contained excitement. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Right . . . Pengy,” the girl hesitantly said. The finks worked feverishly to guide the yacht out to sea while Cora Sayers folded her arms, remaining rooted to the deck with her eyes locked on Batman and Batgirl.

Light glinted on a knife blade in Batgirl’s hand after it slashed Batman’s bonds. The heroine swam toward shore, half-dragging and half-floating the Caped Crusader behind her. Presently, they reached a ladder at the side of the pier.

“Drat!” Cora Sayers fumed. “She saved him! I told you she would!”

“On the contrary, my dear,” Penguin said. “They’re doing exactly what I knew they would. They’re playing right into our hands. Wak, wak, wak! ”

“If we would have tied her up, they might both be dead by now,” the girl complained.

“Not to worry, Cora. I’ve a much more destructive demise in mind for them. Trust me.” As Penguin spoke, the Admiral’s yacht picked up speed as it and its piratical passengers fled toward the open sea.

“We’ve got to get after them, Batgirl,” Batman urged as he recovered on the pier, once Batgirl had administered an antidote pill. “Quickly, we’ll race to the Batboat via Batmobile.”

“I’ll drive.” Batgirl said, leaving no room for arguments. Batman surrendered the keys and they hurried to the car.

Within minutes, they arrived at the pier where the Batboat was tied. Batman literally leaped from the car and slid down the single pole to take his place behind the boat’s wheel.

“You’re going to be okay piloting the boat?” Batgirl asked.

“I’ll be fine, Batgirl,” he assured her. “The Bat-antidote pills work remarkably quickly. Thank you for asking.”

Seconds later, she was seated beside him, searching the sea for Penguin’s craft with Bat-Binoculars, as the Caped Crusader guided the Batboat rapidly over the waves.

“There he is!” she said, pointing. “Let’s go get him!” Batman steered in the direction she pointed without a word and increased the boat’s speed.

On the Admiral’s yacht, Cora Sayers was scanning the harbor for pursuit. “Shouldn’t we be going faster, Pengy?” she asked. “I can see the Batboat coming toward us now!”

“Capital, Cora! Capital! Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin eagerly said, letting his gaze follow her pointing finger. “Perhaps you’re right.” He increased the craft’s speed slightly.

“I don’t understand, Pengy. They’re still gaining on us. I would think we could go a lot faster.”

“We will. Don’t worry. First, I want to draw our pursuers into a lively, rapid chase.”

“Shouldn’t we be trying to get away?”

“We are,” Penguin said. “Remember what I told the finks to do to the Batboat before we left them last night?”

“I wasn’t really listening. I figured Batman would be smart enough to look over his boat if he had reason to suspect we’d used it.”

“You’re quite right, Cora. I anticipated his curiosity and left him something I knew he would find.”

“If he found and repaired whatever you had the finks do to the Batboat, why are you letting Batman chase us?” she demanded.

“I told the finks to install something I knew Batman would find when he searched the engine. Wak, wak, wak! ”

“So you just said!”

“That stratagem was only the beginning of my fiendish plot. In addition to the decoy device, I had Batman’s aquatic transportation transformed into a deadly trap—”

“You knew Batgirl would save Batman after you had him thrown overboard?”

“Naturally,” Penguin replied, blowing a smoke ring. “Ordering the finks to seize her was mere window dressing. I believe our little charade was quite convincing. Wak, wak, wak!”

“I know you’re a criminal genius, Pengy, but I don’t get it,” Cora Sayers complained, glancing at the approaching Batboat. “They’re getting closer. We’re trying to get away, but we want Batman and Batgirl to chase us?”

“Precisely,” Penguin confirmed. “It won’t be long now before the trap I’ve set functions. Wak, wak wak!” The fleeing villain increased the yacht’s speed slightly more.

Cora Sayers picked up on the anticipation in her employer’s voice and thought for a moment. “Wait a minute!” she said. “Let me get this straight. Batman’s survival was part of your plan. You always wanted to get him into the Batboat because – in addition to putting in a first trap as a decoy – you had a second trap set that will kill him?”

“We mustn’t forget Batgirl. Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin was delighted his girl was grasping his plan as he eagerly watched, waiting for his plans to unfold.

“So, how will they die?” Cora Sayers asked eagerly.

“When Batman searched his engine, he found a device that would have allowed me to take over the boat and control it remotely.”

“Controlling Batman’s ride into the afterlife would have been fun.”

“Indeed. He’s done the same thing to me many times. Wak! Anyway, he found my remote control device and promptly stopped looking at the engine. He did not find the dynamite I have set to blow when he reaches nearly maximum speed in the open sea. During the chase, we’ll coax more and more speed out of him until an explosion leaves the Batboat at the bottom of the sea and the little pieces of the Bats’ bodies – all that will be left of them – floating among the waves to be eaten by the fish. Wak, wak, wak!”

Cora Sayers laughed. “You’re brilliant, Pengy!” she declared.

“Thank you. The best part of this perfidious murder plot is, the victims will be dead before they have any idea of the danger they’re in! Wak!”

“The cops won’t be able to pin it on you, either,” Cora Sayers predicted, grinning.

“Indeed. Besides lack of any proof, they’ll have no jurisdiction in international waters, where I’ll lure our pursuers before their end.”

“I can’t wait for the fireworks!” Cora Sayers enthused.

“Neither can I, my scrumptious swashbuckler.” As he spoke, Penguin eased the throttle forward.

“How soon?”

“Patience, Cora,” Penguin answered, squeezing her rigid body. “You won’t have long to wait. Wak! I’ve almost got them exactly where I want them. Within a minute of entering international waters, it will all be over, but the echoes and the dispersal of the smoke. Wak, wak, wak!”

Behind them, in the Batboat, Batman’s hand fell away from the throttle as the craft and the hunters occupying it sped even faster toward their prey. They were unaware the Penguin had them in his sights, and was waiting for their destructive conclusion with unparalleled anticipation.

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