WARNING: This story is fictional and is not intended to portray any real persons, living or dead, nor is it at all intended to encourage the type of activity portrayed here. It is strictly a fantasy/parody, intended for the personal enjoyment of those who appreciate female costumed characters in fear for their life or the violation of their body. The story describes and/or hints at graphic sexual situations, including bondage, violence, non-consensual sex, and other elements unacceptable in certain communities. It is NOT intended, nor is it at all suitable, for minors. If you are under the age of 18, or if this type of thing offends you, you shouldn’t be reading it. If you are a person who does find interesting the material described above, then I invite you to enjoy this story.
The story contains characters of my own creation, but also characters who are the property of various established comic book companies. Those characters are used without any permission by the owners of those characters and are included only to offer a fan's expression of those characters in a situation that would not be seen in mainstream comics. This story is strictly done for non-profit enjoyment by other fans interested in this adult genre. This story may not be moved to, or included in any website that requires payment for content.
Part One
The little girl tumbled noisily down the stairs and ran to jump in her father's lap. "Daddy! Good morning! You goin' to work?" Patrick Hooper bent down and kissed the head of little eight-year old Rebecca. "Yes, Punkin. You get ready for school and don't get into any fights today. Your Mom and I were very unhappy to hear about what happened yesterday." Only the day before, Becky's parents had been called in to the school when the young lady had gotten into a nasty fight on the playground. "OK, Daddy. I'll try to behave. But Marcia always is such a snotty little twerp! When she started saying nasty things about Wonder Woman, I hadda make her stop." Pat shook his head. "Fighting doesn't make anything better, young lady. Eat your toast and yogurt and get ready for the school bus." Pat got up, gave his wife a kiss and walked to the door. "Well, I better be off. I have a couple things at work that really need to be looked at."
He went out the door, got in his car and drove to downtown Granite City. Entering Police Headquarters, he took the elevator to the top floor and walked to an office that was marked "Special Operations - Access restricted to Authorized Personel." He used a special identification card in a slot by the lock, and, after the lock clicked in response, went in. He sat at his desk and picked up one of the file folders that were there. It was a report on the recent destruction of the plant facilities at Kline Industries. A man in red tights with a long red cape had driven a semi-trailer truck up to the dock of the building and then walked away. Minutes later the truck blew up. People seeing the driver leave had given a good enough description to make Pat sure that this had been the latest attack by the costumed villain they were calling the Red Menace. He was targetting companies that did work for the Defense Department, and people were sure this villain was working for the commies. But as Pat looked through the file, he noted that the Air Force had already arranged for a replacement contract to get the material they wanted from another firm -- B&E Industries, right here in Granite City. That made something click in Pat's mind. He pulled out the files on the other acts of sabotage that the Red Menace had committed. Each one had resulted in the Department of Defense shifting jobs to B&E Industries. So this outfit was consistantly profiting from the Red Menace's actions? That would have to be looked into. But he would not visit B&E Industries as Detective Pat Hooper. He took off his suit and changed into the red, white and blue uniform of the masked super-hero, Mister Patriot. Then he moved to the window and launched himself skyward.
When he reached the company he spoke to Thomas Belham and Hank Evanston, the two men who ran the firm. Both were top-notch weapons and electronics designers and they freely told the hero that they had added extra security to their firm to make sure the Red Menace did not make any trouble on their property. When Mr. Patriot mentioned he thought it was odd that every act of sabotoge that had occurred had resulted in more Depatment of Defense business being shifted to B&E, Belham got extremely mad and asked the hero how he could make such accusations. "I'm a loyal American who works hard to protect this country. I'm not in it to gouge the government like some of the firms that work for the Defense branch. That's probably why the honest men in the procurement bureau like to bring their orders to us!" Evanston put his arm on his partner's shoulder and tried to calm him down. "Now, Tom, I am sure this fellow is just doing his job and checking out any suspects that he might see in his file. He has to be thorough and look into everybody, even the innocent guys like us. I think, Patriot, that it's just a case of our company being new and having the facilities to add production. When those other firms were damaged, the Department of Defense had to find someone who could handle the work and get production out quickly and there were not many places they could go to that didn't already have their production lines busy with other work. Other firms are just too busy to switch over to these orders. I am sure no one here at B&E has any connection to the Red Menace." Pat wasn't too sure. He said he would look into it further and hoped to eliminate B&E people so he could move on and find the real culprit. He then spoke to the two men seperately. When Evanston was questioned about a list of dates and times, he mentioned where he had been and the names of people who would vouch for him. This accounted for when the Red Menace had been seen. When Mister Patriot talked to Belham about the same dates and times, for each time period the man said he had been at the company testing facility in the hills far north of town, doing equipment tests like he normally did. Pat asked him if anyone could confirm this, and Belham said, "No -- I work alone out there. I drive up alone and do the work by myself. This are top secret projects and Hank and I don't want anyone knowing too much about the designs and capabilities of our stuff while it is being developed." When Pat pressed the matter, asking if the designer had stopped for gas, or for something to eat, anything that could prove his story, Belham snapped at him. "What kind of insinuations are you making? I thought this was America! Where a man is innocent until proven guilty. Why do I have to prove I'm innocent. It just so happens I did see someone -- a girl. She was hitch-hiking to the city and I picked her up back on the 15th when I left the test building. I told her she should not be out there, she didn't know what kind of person might pick her up." Pat asked what her name was. Belham thought for a while, then shrugged his head. "I... I can't remember her name. It might have been Peggy or Patty or... I can't remember. She said she missed the bus and had to get to Granite City because her boy-friend was getting out of the army and was arriving back that day. She had to meet him so they could celebrate his discharge." To Pat, this alibi didn't sound like much of an alibi at all. That made him wonder if it could be true. Most guilty people would provide an alibi that was much better.
Pat went back to headquarters and began looking into the alibis. What Hank Evanston told him seemed to check out, but there was nothing to confirm or disprove what Belham had said. Then he got a phone call from Mr. Terrific, whom he had worked with on various Justice Society cases. The hero had been checking into possible infiltration of America by Communist spies. He had found a bank account in Jamaica which held money that went through several dummy accounts to get there. But he'd traced the cash as coming from Moscow. "Good job, Mr. Terriffic!" Pat said. "But why are you passing this on to me?" The hero on the phone told him. "The name on the account is Thomas Belham. I see he runs a company in Granite City. I thought I'd have you check that out." Pat smiled as he thanked the other hero. This was a real break! He pulled out the files on the crimes credited to the Red Menace. At one place a few strands of hair were found, at another a loose button. But at Atherton Logistics, the Red Menace had gunned down John Atherton in the parking lot. When he escaped he went over a fence and cut his hand on the top of the chain-link. The file had the blood they found identified it as blood type A-, which was rather rare. When Pat looked at his file of data on Belham and Evanston he found Belham had the same blood type!
Pat flew back to B&E Industries and went to the head building. In Evanston's office he found the two men. He told Belham that he had proof of his double-dealing and that he was arresting the man for sabotage, murder and treason. Mr. Patriot slapped handcuffs on the designer, who screamed he was innocent and that Mr. Patriot was making a big mistake! Pat didn't really listen as he pushed him into a chair. In all his years as a police detective and as a super-hero, every criminal who ever got caught always screamed they didn't do it. Pat turned to Evanston, and said he was sorry he had to be the one to bring this information to him about his friend. "I just hope you can keep the company going and providing valuable material for the defense of America. This fiend probably would have done America terrible harm. By the way, have we met before? Since I spoke to you earlier, I kept trying to recall where I knew you from. You seem somehow familiar." Evanston seemed surprised by this, and said he could not recall ever running into the hero in the past. Pat suddenly thought that he was being silly. He might have been involved in a case that Detective Pat Hooper worked on years ago. And the industrialist would not know that was Mister Patriot's secret identity. Pat then went to the phone and called headquarters. He asked for a patrol car to stop and pick up his prisoner. Then he heard Evanston shout. "He's gotten loose! Look out!" Mister Patriot spun and saw Belham had stood up and the two men were struggling. He went over to them and tried to reach in and grab Belham without knocking Evanston over. But in the confusion, a burst of powder suddenly hit him in the face. He staggered back. His throat and nose hurt, but his eyes! It felt like white hot pokers had been jammed into them. He fell over and rolled on the floor, in agony. After a while, he passed out.
When Pat woke up his eyes were wrapped in bandages. He was laying down on a bed, and the smells seemed to indicate he was in a hospital. He heard a woman sobbing alongside his bed, and reached out for her. "Donna? Is that you?" His wife gasped and took his hand. "Yes Pat, I'm here. I'm... here for you." Pat squeezed her hand. "Whoa, that was nasty. My eyes hurt like hell, but they seem to be better now. Did that bastard Belham get away?" Donna replied. "Oh - no, Evanston managed to hold him until the patrol car got there. He's in custody. Ahh... Pat... the doctors spoke to me about... about your eyes... That powder was bad.. you're blind. Thay aren't sure they can do anything about it." Donna winced as Pat's grip on her hand grew tighter. In all their time together he'd never been careless about his strength when he held her. She put her other hand over his and his grip slackened. And his hand started to shake a little. He spoke. "They... will probably be able to do something. They just want me prepared for the worst. You know the docs always make it sound worse that it really is..." Donna moved over, resting herself on top of his chest while wrapping her arms under him, holding him tight. "Sure, Pat. They'll have you good as new real soon."
Patrick Hopper got out of the hospital after a few days, but his eyes were still bandaged. The doctors had him come back regularly to try to repair some of the harm that had been done, but nothing seemed to help. The rest of his time was spent at home, trapped in his thoughts. His world was totally black now, and he concentrated, trying to remember exactly what his wife and child had looked like that morning when he last saw them. That was his last look at them. He'd never again look into his wife's beautiful brown eyes. He'd never see his little girl grow up. These thoughts made him depressed and very bitter. He started to really hate Thomas Belham. He'd always known in the back of his mind that someday a super-villain might kill him. But for one of them to do this -- to make him live the rest of his life in the dark, deprived of so much.
Part Two
When Belham went to trial, the district attorney said that Mister Patriot would not have to testify, there was plenty of evidence that tied the man to his identity as the Red Menace. But Pat insisted, and with the work he had done for the justice system over the years, the DA could not refuse him. Pat was taken to the courtroom and he wanted to be an important part of what put this monster away for a long time. Pat had always been glad that this state did not have the death penalty, but he wondered if this was the time it would have been proper to use it. He thought he would have prefered hearing Belham strapped into a chair, then sizzling as the jolt of electricity went through him. When they put Pat on the witness stand, the DA let him describe the bank account in Belham's name that had been traced to a Russian source, the bits of evidence found at the scenes of the Red Menace's crimes, how the blood was Belham's, the hairs matched Belham's and the button matched those on a jacket found in Belham's house -- which was missing one button. Then he told of how Belham had tried to escape when confronted and how the man had used a fiendish powder to blind the super-hero. Pat heard members of the jury react at the description of what Belham had done. That was good. It meant the jury members would come to realise what a monster Belham was. But then the accused man's defence counsel cross examined the blinded hero. He pointed out that anyone could have left those clues - the blood, the button, the hairs - to try to make his client a patsy. He said that people in Jamaica had sent depositions to the effect that the bank account there was opened by someone under the name of Thomas Belham, but no one ever saw the person face-to-face. He pointed out that Belham's work in the remote testing lab was often scheduled in advance, and anyone could commit crimes as the Red Menace and he or she would know that the designer would have no alibi. Pat listened to this, seething inside with anger. It was typical for a crook with money to use a high-priced lawyer to try to muddy the water during the trial, hoping the jury would begin to doubt the facts as they were presented. He thought that the man would bring up that hitch-hiker story that Belham had spun, and the defence team mentioned that. He talked about a bunch of private eyes who were not successful in finding the missing girl. Hah! pat was sure the story was fake and they were again trying to confuse the jury. The lawyer suggested that Mister Patriot was more interested in taking the crfedit for capturing the Red Menace than being sure he'd caught the right man. The lawyer said this circumstancial evidence could have been trumped up by an investigator who had judged an innocent man guilty and wanted to invent evidence to prove it! Pat stood up and shouted, "I have never faked evidence and would never do that to the justice system! He did it!"
Despite the defense lawyer's trickery, Belham was convicted of several counts of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison. Pat sat in the courtroom and listened to the judge read the sentence, and he wondered if that would make him feel better. It didn't. He was still blind and the doctors had hinted he might never regain his sight. As the criminal was being taken away, Pat heard a woman crying and a young boy shouting, "Daddy!" Pat sighed. They were just two more victims of Belham's crimes. Suddenly, Pat heard the man stop near him and shout, "Patriot! You did this to me! You cost me my life and my family. Some day I hope you suffer the way I'm suffering. I never committed those crimes, but if I get a chance I will get even with you..." The criminal was grabbed by the sheriffs and forced away.
Patrick Hooper went home and suffered a life that was a mockery of the one he had led. So many things he was used to doing were denied him because he could no longer see. Donna and little Becky tried to cheer him up, but he could hear when they paused to sob and cry. He wondered if he could keep living like this. When he was a beat cop, he had a partner who took a bullet in the spine and was paralyzed from the waist down. He hung on for a month, then blew his brains out. Pat had always thought that there was no way a man could do that. Now he began to wonder if he should. But then his doctors sent him to a experimental research facilty. The researchers began to convince him that there was a chance that Pat's eyesight could be repaired. That little, tiny ray of hope kept Mister Patriot going for several months until the treatments showed the first sign of success. Pat would always remember the day when they unwrapped the bandages and he swiveled his head. As he faced the window were the sunshine streamed in, he saw a trace of light in his vision! It was so faint and so blurry, but it was the first thing he'd seen in all those months. It was another month until he could make out shapes. And another year before he could open his eyes and, though blurry, make out Donna and Becky smiling at him. Months later, he thanked and shook the hands of the doctors as he was discharged. He still couldn't see very well at night, and bright lights caused him to wince. But the eyedrops he used every day would keep improving the healing. And eventualy his eyesight was as good as new.
After he was blinded, it was announced that Mister Patriot had retired. The Shady Lady had been retired since Donna's pregnancy. She had worried at first about the effect her powers might have on the unborn child. After the birth, she just wanted to spend time at home. Patrick Hooper also retired from the Granite City Police Department during his rehabilitation. Now that his eyesight had come back, he spent a long time wondering what he should do. After the period of blindness, he really wanted to spend more time with his wife and daughter. They meant more to him than ever. So he stayed retired, but worked short hours with the Police Department as a consultant and as a part-time instructor at the police academy. His life went along very well, until Becky reached nineteen and started her career as Glory Girl. Patrick thought about the horrors that crimefighters encounter. Now his own daughter... little Becky... But no. She was an adult now, and he to let her live her own life and face what she had to face. She was strong and they'd raised her to be able to handle everything.
Part Three
On one of her earliest patrols in the garb of Glory Girl, Rebecca Hooper moved along an alleyway. While having lunch with Leona and some other working girls, one of the hookers had mentioned that her boyfriend was hiding in an apartment near here. He was sneaking out every night to visit the prostitute, and using the cash he'd gotten from a payroll heist to pay her every night. The girl got up and left, and Leona sighed. "She's in trouble. Benji Kahn likes her, and the twisted son-a-bitch likes to hurt women, bad. A couple of nights ago I hadda take her to the clinic so they could stitch up her belly. Benji cut her bad. She's too afraid to go to the cops or to try and run out on him. As bad as he is now, she thinks if she runs, he'll catch here and cut her heart out." Becky thought about this and realised it was a chance for her first big capture. This guy was wanted for the death of a guard at the payroll office, and it would help her get some notice around town. So she planned her little attack. And when Benji Kahn came down the alley, she lept out and knocked him backwards to the ground. She yelled, "Gotchya! You're under arrest!" But when she pulled out a pair of handcuffs to snap them on the felon, he pulled out a knife and slashed at her, opening a gash in her right forearm. She lept back, and Kahn came at her with the knife. She had spent a lot of time practicing fighting, and one wound was not going to panic her. She spun, and her boot hit Kahn's wrist, sending the knife flying away. When the thug stopped, another leg whip smacked into the side of his head. Becky pressed her right arm against her top by her stomach to try to slow the bleeding. She thought of tearing off a part of her clothes to use as a bandage, but realised she'd designed herself a heroine costume that didn't have much fabric to spare! While this ran through Rebecca's mind, Kahn got up and started to run. Becky realised she'd made a dumb beginner's mistake. She couldn't trap a man in an alley when there were two ways out. At the end of the alley, Kahn ran out into the street. A car nearly hit him, and screeched to a halt. The driver got out and yelled at Kahn, but the felon punched the guy and tossed him aside. He got in the man's car and roared off. Becky came out of the alley and wanted to follow him. She waved down a white van and pulled open the passenger door. The dome light didn't go on, so she could barely make out the driver. She yelled at him "Follow that car!" The van got moving, but not very fast. The car with Kahn was getting away. Becky turned towards the driver and yelled, "Come on, move it!" He raised his right hand and something he was holding hissed. A cloud of gas hit her in the face and she passed out.
She woke up in a room somewhere. She was laying on a table top and except for her mask, her uniform was gone. Cold fear ran through her as she wondered whose clutches she had fallen into. A slender fellow came into the room, wearing a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved red sweatshirt, and a black ski mask. "Alright, heroine. I have you now and you are my prisoner, and I am going to have my way with you to teach you who is... who is boss." Becky's fear did not grow at this, instead it lessened. His voice sounded awful young and didn't really have any kind of menacing tone in it. She noticed he was carrying her costume, and it looked damp. As he put it down on a computer desk on the other side of the room she figured it out. He'd washed the blood out of her top! And she looked to see the gash in her arm was bandaged. What kind of villain was this guy? She decided to ask. "Hey, guy, what's your name, anyway." He stood up straight and proclaimed, "I am the Avenger!" Becky moaned, "You can't be the Avenger - there's a guy down in Texas who goes by that name." Her captor's shoulders slumped at this statement. "There is? Damn. How about I call myself the Crimson Avenger?" Becky again shook her head. "Nope. Back in World War Two there was a Crimson Avenger who fought crime in Gotham City." The man sat down in a chair and swore. "Damn! All the good names are taken. Dad's gonna love that." Becky asked her captor, "Who's your Dad?" The ski mask clad head went back and forth, "Oh, no, you won't find that out. I have my secret identity to protect, ahh... oh... what's your name?" Becky spoke proudly, "I am the newest crime-fighter in Granite City, Glory Girl!" The man whistled. "Wow, that's a great name. Yeh, I figured you must be new as I didn't recognize the outfit. I brought you back here to my lair to... ahhh.. do stuff to you. A super-hero put my dad in prison and he wants me to get on the hero community." Becky groaned. "Well, why did you grab me? Some revenge. I haven't even put anybody in jail yet." He replied. "I was out trying figure how I could go up against some of the better known heroes when you just up and jumped in my van. I gassed you 'cause I thought I could do you first and work my way up to a more established hero." Becky groaned at being refered to as a training dummy. Now she was mad. "OK you fiend, do your worst! Rape me! And you'll pay for it later!" The un-named villain did not come at her, instead he took a step back. "Right now? I'm... I'm not ready! I...I gotta torture you first. Yeah, none of us villains rape anybody without a bunch of nasty torture first. If you were an experienced heroine, you'd know that! I gotta get my whips and stuff."
He opened drawers in a cabinet, and didn't seem to be finding what he was looking for. Finally he appeared holding... a single feather! Becky stared at it and wondered what was going to happen with that. He spoke. "Torture takes many forms and many insideous methods. I'll start with this." He stood next to the bound heroine, and lightly ran the tip of the feather over her right nipple. Her body jerked from the sensation and he did the same on her other breast. Then he began running the feather with a light touch over the areola of one breast, then the other. Her tender skin being teased began to arouse her, and she tried wiggling, but he kept it up. "Ss... Stop that!" He gazed down at her, smiling. "Hah! and you thought I wasn't serious about torturing you! See, I'm just starting out easy on you!" But as he kept it up, he finally spotted something. On Glory Girl's right breast, a couple of inches right under the nipple was a tiny little brown freckle. That was where... He brought he head up and chanted, "GC High, we're the one..." Becky heard this and rattled on "...Watch our team have some fun... Gasp!" As a cheerleader she'd done that chant a hundred times! How did he know? The man backed up and dropped himself in a chair. "Rebecca Hooper? You're the new costumed heroine? Wow, I never would have thought that the little snooze head would... oh, shit." It was his turn to regret what he'd said. Becky stared over at him. In junior year she was doing horrible in the math, so another student had been assigned to tutor her. One of the guys in the math club told her she had to stop snoozing through classes and pay attention. During the tutoring get-togethers he would always call her little snooze head. But that meant the the mystery villain was actually... "Arnie?? Arnie Staton?" He pulled off his ski mask and slumped in the chair. "Yeah, it's me. I guess this secret identity stuff is more complicated than I thought."
Arnie came over and untied Rebecca. She got down and got her costume back on. She turned to him and spoke. "Ah, thanks for bandaging my arm. And washing the blood out of my outfit. It's still a little damp." Arnie looked up. "Oh, glad to help. I didn't put the clothes in the dryer. Thought they might shrink and they're already pretty tight." He smiled at this. "Of course, as I recall you drove all the guys crazy in senior year with those tight sweaters you wore." Becky blushed. "Really, Arnie? I never thought you noticed." Arnie chuckled. "Come on, girl. I was a geek in school, but I was still a guy. Every guy in school wanted you. And you went and did it with Johnny the Jock." Becky's face dropped when he said that. "You... you knew about that?" Arnie nodded. "Yeah, the whole school knew. Quarterback Johnny bragged about how he'd fucked the head cheerleader and acted like a real ass-hole about it. We were all happy when we saw you wised up and dumped him." Becky responded. "He acted real sweet and loving until he got my panties off. Then I saw he was just a jerk who wanted into my pussy and would tell me what I wanted to hear to get there. Then he treated me like a piece of meat. I was so embarrased..." Arnie moved over and put his arm around her shoulder. "After that his rep was pretty much shot. Most of the other guys saw he was pretty mean to you. Even the other girls figured you were the victim and felt sorry for you. The team thought he deserved to suffer for what he did, so the last game of the season..." Becky looked over at Arnie and her eyes widened. "You mean... that's why the other team pounded him? He got sacked eight times that day!" Arnie laughed. "Yeah, his offensive linemen all suddenly forgot how to block."
The two young people sat there quietly. Then Becky spoke. "Arnie... how did you guess who I was when I was still masked? Did you look under my mask when I was still out?" Arnie got up and paced the floor in front of Rebecca. "No, I didn't. But, when I was tickling you, I saw the little brown freckle on your right breast. I remembered that Becky Hopper had a freckle in the same spot." Becky looked puzzled and responded. "That's impossible. You never saw my breasts before. Johnny's the only guy in high school who saw me naked!" Arnie looked at her and then turned away. "Well, you remember Charlie Applegate, the fellow in the Camera Club? He got into the girl's locker room and the showers and planted a couple of cameras. They were timed to shoot their film after cheerleading practice when you gals were getting cleaned up. He sold the pictures to the guys at school. Hey, the other girl's pictures were $5 each, but he charged $10 a print for the ones of you that showed you... ahhh... naked." Becky groaned. "He what? You bought naked pictures of me?" "Of course not!" Arnie shot back. "I was in the club with him and I got a free set of the prints when I helped him run the prints off in the photo lab." Becky asked. "Didn't the teachers find out?" Arnie looked back at her, sheepishly. " A few did. When they bought a set of prints."
Becky decided she'd heard enough about this wonderful high school memory. "Arnie, why are you doing this villain act? Back in high school I always thought you were a really nice guy." Arnie turned to Rebecca and smiled at this comment. "Really? I was crazy about you and wanted to ask you out, but I never could get my nerve up to ask somebody as special as you to have a date. The villain deal... Well, years back, my dad was railroaded into jail by a gung-ho super-hero who framed him. My Mom divorced him and she won't have anything to do with him now, but I love my dad and still go visit him one day a month. He's real bitter and begged me to help him get revenge of the hero community for what was done to him. I keep telling him I will, but my heart's not in it. So I keep telling him I will, but when I'm not with him I just can't bring myself to be nasty to anybody. I was driving around trying to figure a way out of this dilemma when you jumped into my van tonight. I thought it was fate telling me I had to do it. So I knocked you out and brought you back here. I tied you up and took off your outfit, then I kept staring at you and wondering if I had the guts to go though with it. I was still stuck on that when you woke up. Even with you prodding me, I couldn't go through with it. Some super-villain I am! How am I gonna get a reputation when you tell everybody my name is the Nipple-Tickler!" Becky got up and wrapped an arm around Arnie's shoulders. "Don't worry. I won't bust you or tell anyone what happened here. You know my secret and I have to keep yours. Besides, I'm trying to get a reputation as a crime-fighter and turning you in would look a little silly." She bent down and picked up the feather which had fallen to the floor. As she held it in Arnie's face, she laughed and said, "I don't think this is enough evidence!"
In weeks to come, Becky kept visiting Arnie to talk over her life. Who else her own age could she be honest with, revealing things about Glory Girl. The friendship grew, and finally she and Arnie became lovers. He told her his real name was Arnie Belham, Staton was the maiden name that his mother had switched back to after the divorce. As Arnie and Rebecca had started to get serious about each other, she had been shocked to find out that Mister Patriot was the hero who Arnie blamed for framing his father, and Arnie was shocked to learn that Becky's dad was Mister Patriot and how she insisted her dad would not have done that. Each of them was not sure about what the other fervently believed, but as they spoke about it they realised that it was possible that a third party might have constructed the frame-up and Becky's dad might merely have been wrong in believing the evidence that he had.
Part Four
The Granite City Police still had an old message drop set up to contact Mister Patriot if it was necessary. Pat found a message that the DA wanted to speak with him. Donning his old costume, Pat stared into the mirror. He was proud it still fit so well. The days at the gym were still paying off. He hadn't wore the outfit since Rebecca's big day at the Superhero Symposium. That was when his daughter had gotten all the accolades for her great job at saving the city from the terrible terroist plot. That had been so weird. No longer the big important hero in the spotlight, now he was just the supporting cast for his daughter's rise to fame. Ah, well. Times change and you had to go with the flow. He was a little disappointed about his fade into history, but it was balanced by his extreme pride at the way his daughter was getting herself set up as a major crimefighter.
Mister Patriot arrived at the district attorney's office and asked what they wanted to talk about. Andrea Blau, who only recently had been elected DA, spoke to him. "It's nice to meet you, sir. I was a big fan of yours growing up. I felt I had to let you know that as eight years have gone by, the lawyers for Thomas Belham have applied for a parole hearing. He's been pretty vocal about his feelings in prison, and shown no indications he has shown any regret for his crimes. So it looks like the hearing will be pretty cut and dried. I don't see any board letting somebody like him out." Patrick got up from his seat, very agitated. "A parole? But I thought he was sentenced to life! Why would he even try something like this?" Angela replied. "They may be trying to set a precedent. If his parole is denied now, he can try again in eight or sixteen years down the road and have a chance at that time. It's not unusual for this to happen. Sometimes it's just the defense lawyers talking their clients into doing this to get the families to pay huge legal fees. Some of us are as bad as those lawyer jokes make us sound. I just wanted to call you in and let you know face to face about this. I know what he did to you and how his incarceration is important to you." Pat shook her hand and replied. "I appreciate this. Could I speak at the hearing?" Angela thought about this. "Yes, that might be helpful. You can get the facts of his case and add the emphisis of a prominent public figure coming out against the parole. I'll contact you to let you know the exact date and time."
That evening, Glory Girl ended her evening patrol at Arnie's place. She went in the door and moved down the corridor, waiting for the net to drop and "trap" her, like it always did. She stood there for a minute, but nothing happened. Finally she proceeded, yelling "Arnie, this net is stuck! Can you take a look at it?" Arnie suddenly ran out in the hallway and wrapped his arms around Rebecca and started dancing in circles. He spoke in a very excited tone. "Becky, We found her! We found her! I can finally prove that my dad was innocent! After all these years, one of the detectives found her!" "Arnie," Becky asked, "...calm down and tell me who 'she' is!" He took her in the next room to his computer desk and held up a stack of print-outs. "Back when my dad was arrested, he insisted that although he didn't have an alibi for most of the times the Red Menace struck, the Kline Industries blast was on a day when he picked up a hitch-hiker who rode with him back to Granite City. This would have proved that when the Red Menace did his last attack, my father was somewhere else. Back during his trial, he had several private investigators searching for the young woman, and notices in the newspapers begged her to come forward, but she never turned up. Well, I still had somebody working on it, and he cracked the case! Penny Bonham caught a ride with my dad to Granite City where she met her pen-pal boy friend at the airport after he was discharged and flew in from Europe. They decided to elope, and grabbed a plane the next day to Las Vegas. They got married, spent a few days in Vegas, then went back to Oregon, where he was from. She never knew about the trial or that my dad's PI's were looking for her!" Becky's jaw dropped. "That's amazing, Arnie! How did they ever find her?" Arnie smiled. "Dad thought her name was Peggy or Patty. The investigator once thought to check any flights out of Granite City that week for any young woman with a name even close. That was a dead end until recently when he went back through his notes and noticed someone named Penny flew to Vegas. He checked the Clark County Courthouse and found the marraige record for Penny Bonham and Julius Felton. Then it was a matter of going though phone books from all over to find any Penny Feltons. He called one in Oregon and she admitted she was the hitch-hiker." Becky kissed him and asked, "Now that you have this, what will you do?" Arnie sat down on the couch with Becky and wrapped his arms round her. "If we take this to the DA or the Governor and ask for a new trial, it could take months. But our lawyer says there is a faster way to work. Dad is eligible for a parole hearing, which we can get within a few days. We could take this new evidence and present it to the parole board, and get it before an official body right away. All the evidence against dad was circumstantial. If we can show one mistake in all that stuff, the whole case unravels." Becky hugged Arnie tight. She was very happy for him. But, she wondered, how would her father react to this?
Part Five
Next morning the way her dad reacted to it was... badly. Word came to Mister Patriot about the new witness and how Belham's lawyers were going to try to use the parole hearing to try to overturn the case against the convict. Pat went around the house cursing against no good under-handed defense shysters and women who would testify any cock-and-bull story if they were paid enough. Becky could not believe her father would not even consider that the testimony from the long-lost hitch-hiker might be true. Her father may have been wrong, all those years back. But his hatred of Thomas Belham blinded him and made him refuse to even think that there had been a mistake in that conviction. Becky's heart sank as she saw her father in this state. Ever since Arnie had revealed to her that his father was her father's worst enemy, she tried to think of a way she could tell dad that she loved Arnie Belham. Right now if she told him he might throw her out of the house. Finally, he yelled that he would make sure the parole board knew what kind of monster they were judging. He stormed out of the house, got in his car and drove off. He went down to headquarters and began pulling out all the old files on the Red Menace and the trial of Belham. Then he thought of Belham's old partner. He was there for the capture! He could testify about that part of Belham's crime spree. So he changed into his Mister Patriot garb, stuffed the papers he'd gathered into a satchel, and flew to Evanston Defense Industries. He entered the office of the businessman and asked him, "Mr. Evanston, I need your help to keep Thomas Belham behind bars..."
Many hours later, Becky and Donna sat wondering where Patrick Hooper was. He had not driven up to the prison, had not come back home and had not contacted them. He'd been gone all day and they worried what had happened to him. The phone rang and Becky grabbed it. It was Arnie. But Arnie never called her at home! Both of them spoke at once. "My father is missing..." After a second, Arnie broke in. "Wha... What did you say?" Becky spoke with a tremor in her voice. "My dad is missing. He went out early this morning and never came back. We have no idea where he went or what may have happened to him." Arnie replied, "Oh my God... my father is missing too. The police were just here looking for him. He vanished from the prison this afternoon." Becky gasped. "Arnie, stay there. I'm coming over." Becky turned to her Mom and said, "I can't sit here. I'm going out to check something."
Her bike roared to Arnie's place and she went in. She confronted Arnie. "Where is your Dad, Arnie. You're the only person he would contact." Arnie stared at Becky. "What do you mean? He must have been kidnapped or spirited away from..." Becky shook this off. "No. People don't get kidnapped or lost in prison. If he's not there anymore that means he ESCAPED! Innocent men don't escape, Arnie. He is out and now my Dad is gone. WHERE IS YOUR DAD!" Arnie came over to her and took her shaking hand. "Becky, he is innocent. I know he is and I thought you did. I have that new evidence and he was going to get out soon, a free man. He wouldn't have done anything like escaping." Becky turned her back on Arnie and spoke in a low, wavering voice. "I... I love you Arnie. But I love my Dad and right now I have to do whatever it takes to find him. If that means finding your father and putting him back in jail... you have to know that's what I'll do." Becky felt tears run down her face. She loved two men so much, and now her duty as a crimefighter meant one love was going to die. Arnie came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on her belt buckle. "Becky, please. It's not my Dad! Don't waste time following a false lead that the real culprit has planted." She pulled away from him and walked out the door. She continued to cry as she left his embrace. Forever?
Part Six
Pat had been knocked out a long time, then he felt that same horrid dream going though his mind. He was blind. He couldn't see his wife's loving face, he couldn't look at his little girl. He'd never see a sunrise or a football game. He'd never see... anything. Then Mr. Patriot came to -- at least he thought he did. It took him a while to realise he wasn't still dreaming. He figured out from the feel of fabric on his face and the smell of it that some sort of thick hood had been tied over his head. When he pulled and struggled against the chains he felt on his wrists and ankles, he was not able to break free. These were not ordinary restraints. They felt like metal, but his struggles did not produce a sound. He then sensed the headphones strapped on his head. They must be some kind of noise-cancelling type, because he could not hear anything, even when he banged his elbows into the wall he was chained to. So he stood and decided to wait. Something would happen and he would be ready. Belham would pay for this!
Becky went down to the dining room to see how her Mom was holding up while they waited to hear any news on her father. As she passed the phone, she wished it would ring with some news. Then she noticed the answering machine had "01" on the display screen. The light that alerted people that a message was waiting wasn't lit up. It hadn't worked for months. A dozen times they'd said they had to get a new one. But they always forgot. Becky pushed the button, and the machine spoke. "Tuesday, 3:42 PM... Hi, Becky, darling. I know your Mom was going to do some grocery shopping this afternoon, but I thought you might be home... I was on my way up to the prison when I got a message from someone who said they heard Belham is planning to try to escape. I'm meeting this informant at a warehouse on 80th and Greenfield Road. I don't know how long this will take, so if the prison calls asking where I am, tell them I'll be slightly delayed. I'll see you tonight." Becky was startled. The message had been left by Dad the day before. It was a clue to where he had been going when he disappeared. Becky ran back upstairs and donned her Glory Girl outfit. Coming back down, she wondered if she should tell her Mom about this. She decided not to. She was about to leave a note on the kitchen table when Donna Gilbert came into the room wearing her costume as The Shady Lady. She spoke. "I heard the message when you played it. You weren't planning on going without me?" Becky stammered an answer. "Well, Mom, you're retired. I'm the costumed crimefighter in the family now." Donna smiled, and said, " I'm not retired today, young lady. Let's go!"
They took Becky's bike and roared off to the place the phone message had mentioned. It seemed deserted, but they carefully approached the building. Becky knelt by the back door and started to pick the lock. Donna whispered, "Becky, I can just mist through the door and open it from the inside." "Oh, yeah... I forgot." Becky watched her mother do her trick and followed as the door came open. The two women moved through the building, which was divided into large storage rooms, and had some crates and drums of material stacked in some areas. They did not split up, but moved together for safety. They saw no sign of any recent activities in the structure. Becky had been worried about her father as they rode over here, but something was in the back of her head. She felt there was something that didn't seem right about... it came to her. She grabbed her mother's arm and said, "Mom -- in the phone message, 'Becky, darling' is what Dad called me..." The Shady Lady turned to her daughter. "Yes, I remember he... wait a minute... your father would never say that... he... he always... calls... you... Punkin..." Donna Gilbert slowly realised that she was losing conciousness. She tried to concentrate, mist through the floor to get out of the room. But her body was too weak and her mind too fogged by the knockout gas to allow her to react. She slumped to the floor. Becky also tried to do something, but her limbs felt so heavy. And heaviest of all were her eyelids. Nothing could stop them from falling. And then everything went black. The room had been a trap. The instant they entered it, an odorless, colorless gas had been pumped to fill it. As soon as the two heroines dropped to the floor, an electronic signal went out to let a villainous mastermind know that he now had them in his clutches.
A short time later, Mister Patriot was still stiffly standing there when someone suddenly yanked the hood off his head. The suddenness of the light in his face was painful and blinding. He felt hands loosening the straps that held the headphones on him, and then his hearing was also returned. It took him several minutes before his eyes were able to recover and focus. He slowly saw the large room he was in and the details of what was there. First he saw that Hank Evanston stood before him - the businessman was the one who had helped him!. Almost at once he saw that nearby Thomas Belham sat at a table. "Evanston, get me free! We'll take that fiend in and..." Patrick's comments ceased as he suddenly noticed that Belham arms were manacled and bolted to the tabletop. What was going on? Then Mister Patriot looked further and saw two tables in the center of the room. On the tables, bound and unconcious, were The Shady Lady and Glory Girl! Fear grew in Pat's stomach. "Evanston, get me loose. I have to see if the women are alright!"
Evanston smiled up into the hero's gaze. "Oh, they are both in perfect shape, just asleep. I wouldn't want them harmed in any way. And Belham is captured, helpless. As helpless as you. Everything is coming together, you musclebound oaf. Twelve years ago you came to B&E Industries and you were looking for the man doing all that sabotage in the guise of the Red Menace. And you found all that evidence that proved my partner was the villain. Evidence that I planted for you. Everything was going so perfect back then, and you had to go and say you thought I seemed familiar to you. I panicked. I let Belham get loose, and in the struggle, while you grabbed at my partner, I sprayed the blackout powder into your eyes. You thought Belman did it. I figured if you were blind, there would be no chance of you seeing who I really was. You should have been blinded permanently, but they eventually were able to treat you and you recovered your sight. But by that time you had an intense hatred for Belham and had forgotten about me. But I never forgot about you... or your wife." Evanston had walked over to the table where The Shady Lady was bound, and he pulled a pair of small metal bracelets out of his pocket. He snapped one on her right wrist, the other on her left. As soon as he did so, the units started to glow and pulse with energy. He then took a small capsule and pinched it between his fingers, holding it under Donna's nose. She coughed and came awake. As soon as she came to, she struggled with the restraints and tried to use her powers. But she could not get loose, her abilities had been neutralized. Evanston went to the other tables and broke a capsule under Glory Girl's nose to wake her up. Both ladies looked around and saw Mister Patriot chained to the wall. "Dad," Becky called. "Patriot," Donna yelled, "...are you alright."
Evanston came back to The Shady Lady and leered down into her face. "He is just fine, Shady. I wanted him to be here to see what was going to happen to you. I wanted you to see what was going to happen to him. That will be the best part of my revenge." He pulled out a knife and slipped the blade into The Shady Lady's blouse slashing along the front. "Twelve years ago, when I encountered Mister Patriot, I so much wanted to kill him, it hurt. But I held back." the knife slashed at her skirt and then with a flick, cut away at the straps of her brassiere. "I thought I had to keep him alive to get him to lead me to you. You had retired. I could not find Shady Lady anywhere, even though I wanted revenge on you so much more than anything else." His knife, razor sharp, flicked as he carefully cut away at her panties. The clothing that had been slashed at was loose. he pulled at it and tossed the pieces to the floor. Now The Shady Lady lay naked except for her mask, bound and helpless on the table top. She yelled at the ranting villain. "What are you talking about, I don't even know you."
The fiend went over to the other table, and with the knife, began to slash at Glory Girl's costume. "You don't?" he said. "Twenty years ago I went to prison. But after a few years of me being a model prisoner, a very ambitious federal agent came to visit me and offered me a deal. He knew I had been associated with the Terror Trio, the deadliest team of professional hitmen that ever menaced society." Becky's clothes were cut away, and he pulled them out and threw them on the floor. Like her mother, Becky was now naked except for her mask. "I said I could provide the evidence he needed to catch and convict them, but I said I was very afraid of the consequenses. I told him to help the authorities would result in the Trio, or other hitmen, coming after me. And then the fed gave me just what I wanted. He said I could get a new identity in the witness protection program and release from prison. Why would he do this for me? Because he wanted the fame and presitige for arresting and getting a conviction of the Terror Trio. It would make his career in the bureau. I asked if he could do this with him being the only one who knew my new identity. I thought if other members of the bureau knew, the information might leak to the underworld. He said that wouldn't happen, but if that was a condition to my co-operation, he would do it. He really wanted to make that deal. So I gave him what he wanted and he moved me to the west coast where I became Hank Evanston, with a clean criminal record. I found a plastic surgeon who changed my face. Then the doctor died in a convenient auto accident. No one else knew my new face. I went to visit the fed and captured him. I tortured him for several days until he gave me all his passwords. After he was dead I used his ID card, carefully altered, to visit FBI headquarters where I tracked down and erased any records of my crimes and of my new identity." The villain who had become Hank Evanston now stood over Donna Hooper and looked into her eyes. "No one knows I'm really..." "Professor Cargill!" gasped The Shady Lady.
Part Seven
"Yes, Shady," Cargill said. "I have waited so long, and now this will be the perfect revenge. You're still a lovely woman. I'm so glad you kept yourself in really good shape for me. And you have raised a lovely young daughter. Another sweet morsel for me to enjoy. I'm sure you can guess what I have planned. I'll rape and torture you while you husband watches, unable to do anything. Then I can do the same with your daughter while both of you are forced to watch. After a little fun at that, I will kill Mister Patriot, slowly in front of wife and daughter. You will have to watch him die and he will have the last breath leave his body while he thinks about how the two of you will forever be my prisoners. Oh, what a sweet revenge."
Cargill walked over to where he had Patrick chained and helpless. "Excuse my typical super-villain rant, but it's what evil masterminds like myself live for. The chance to have you helpless and force you to listen to how I outsmarted all of you is so satisfying. Now, where was I? Oh, yes... my new identity. I worked at a couple of firms out on the west coast, getting a reputation as a talented electronics designer. I wanted to start my own business, but I never tried to touch the equipment or cash reserves from back when I was Professor Cargill. Back then I was so careful not to compromise my new identity. Thomas Belham, a man also talented in designing electronics equipment had enough cash to start a new firm and I contacted him to offer to be his partner. Together we had some wonderful ideas that the Department of Defense were very interested in. B&E Industries got off to a great start, but I wanted more. I donned a scarlet costume and as the Red Menace, I went to work. I planted explosives at Bolton Armaments Inc. and when their facitity was heavily damaged, the Army went to B&E to purchase guidance units for their new anti-tank missles. The Navy was going to have Robert Atherton design the upgrades for their Hawkeye radar equipment. But the Red Menace attacked Atherton and gunned him down. So the Navy came to me to get their new designs. The new radar jamming units for the B-52 bombers were being built by Kline Electronics until the Red Menace drove a truck loaded with explosives up to their loading dock and left it there to wipe the place out. And then the Air Force took their business to B&E. Our company began making more and more money off the defense contracts. But sooner or later, I expected someone to see what was happening and come to B&E looking for the man who was doing all this. Right after my first successful sabotage, I contacted Moscow and offered to do these acts for them, in exchange for cash. They paid me several hundred thousand dollars. That money went into a bank account in the Bahamas under the name of Thomas Belham. It was a secret account, but I knew a determined investigator would be able to track it down. What did I care about a few hundred thousand dollars when the company was making millions. And at every act of the Red Menace, I left behind clues. A bit of Belham's blood, some of his hairs, a button from his jacket. The clues would mean nothing until an investigator began looking at Belham. Then everything would point to him. You would arrest him and take him away. And the milti-million dollar company would end up my sole property. Mister Patriot, he told you he didn't do it, but you were so sure, that you didn't listen. Everytime the Red Menace stuck, I had timed the acts to coincide to a time when Belham was out at our remote testing facility. I did most of the design work, and I talked him into handling the testing alone so that their would be no leaks of our designs. He didn't realise I was making sure that he had no alibi for his where-abouts at the times the Red Menace was seen."
"But that last job, just before you came to B&E, was when he picked up that hitchhiker on the way back to town. That put my entire scheme in danger of being blown. After my partner was arrested, his attorney had people looking for her. But not as hard as I looked. They wanted to find her to clear him. I wanted to find her to kill her and make sure she wouldn't talk." But back then she never turned up. The trial went well. You got on the stand and the poor blinded hero described Thomas Belham as a monster. He thought you were the one who framed him. So he hated you and you hated him. And I got filthy rich. I bought out his wife for a small fraction of what the company was worth. Then I wanted you to lead me to The Shady Lady. But you dropped out of sight. Word came out that you had retired. I heard rumors about places where your eyes were being treated. But I was afraid to get to close. If you thought you recognized me, I could not stumble into where you were and take a chance on your wife seeing me and figuring out who I was. So I held back, and for years I regretted that.
Then when this new heroine, Glory Girl came on the scene, there were reports that she was the daughter of Mister Patriot and The Shady Lady. I made plans to try to use her to find out where The Shady Lady had vanished to. When I heard that Belham's investigators had found that blasted hitch-hiker, I knew I had to stop that parole hearing. New forensic techniques might have seen something in the old evidence. But I didn't want that can of worms brought back in the light. In the prison, one of his fellow cons went up to Belham and told him that to stop the parole hearing, Mister Patriot had kidnapped his son, Arnold, and soon the boy would die. Belham agreed to escape from the prison to rescue his son. But the other con was being paid by me to pull this off. The two of them used a laundry truck to get out and I met them in a warehouse near here. Belham got a tranquilzer dart in his neck. The other con didn't get the money he expected. I put two .38 caliber slugs through his heart. I've learned. Never leave any loose ends. But then right after I stashed Belham here in the bunker yesterday, you walked right into my office, Patriot. You wanted help at the parole hearing. I was overjoyed to see you again. You showed me the police files that you had and I noticed they were all signed out to a Detective Patrick Hooper. I stepped away from you and used my computer to check online. Old newspaper reports said Patrick Hooper retired from the force eight years ago. Just after Mister Patriot was blinded. Courthouse records showed a marraige to Donna Gilbert, and the birth of a daughter. Which corresponded to when The Shady Lady retired. And the high-school papers online showed Rebecca Hooper was a lovey young blonde-haired woman. Just the right age to be Glory Girl. So I figured out who you were. I gassed you and brought you down to the bunker to join Belham. It was easy to look up the number in the phone book and call your home. An electronic unit made my voice sound just like yours. A little clue and the ladies walked right into a trap I set. So now I have as my prisoners -- Patrick Hooper, aka Mister Patriot -- Donna Gilbert Hooper aka The Shady Lady -- Rebecca Hooper aka Glory Girl!
Part Eight
Cargill continued to talk as he enjoyed gloating in front of his vanquished foes. "Enough about the past. Let's discuss your futures. Some of you have less of a future than others! First off, Thomas Belham and Mister Patriot. Sometime very soon, your bodies will be found out the the bogs south of town. Belham will have been severely beaten to death. His blood and bits of skin will be on Mister Patriot's fingers and knuckles. Since you have shown to everyone that you hate his guts, no one will question that you beat him to death. In his hand Belham will be holding an experimental ray gun we have developed here at Evanston Defense Industries. When fired at anyone, it slowly... painfully... rots away the person's insides. Patriot, that's how you will die. At the hands of your worst enemy, Thomas Belham." His head went back and he laughed long and hard. Then he walked over to Donna Hooper and put his hand at her crotch, watching her squirm as his fingers invaded her pussy. "As for the ladies, they will stay as my prisoners down her in the bunker. You know where we are? This is an old fall-out shelter that was constructed years ago right under Evanston Defense Industries by the prior owners of the building. I think Thomas and I were the only ones who knew it was here. It's shielded and the entrance is concealed so no one will find it. I can come down here at least a few times a week to play with my two new sex slaves. A mother and her daughter! What more could a villain wish for!" Becky finally spoke up. "You're crazy, old man! I have powerful friends, heroes, who will look for us when we disappear. They'll find this bunker no matter how well you think it's hidden!" Cargill walked over to Becky and savagely stuck his fingers in her cunt. As she gasped in pain, he looked down at her and said. "Children should not interupt! Do that again and I will get out a hot iron and take it to... your mother!" Becky winced. She knew this man was capable of many things, some even worse than that. He contined. "As to your detective friends like Batman, I've plans to take care of that. When Belham's body is found, he will have several interesting papers in a pocket. One will be a fabrication order for some unusual crates. They will be about coffin size, but with foam padded interiors and just enough space inside for a bound woman. There will also be a shipping order to send the crates... which will be about 100 pounds heavier than they were empty... by air freight to an address in Dubai in the middle east. When your hero friends follow the trail to Dubai it will lead them to a warehouse that has burned to the ground. In the ashes will be the body of the building's owner, Hasim Onagah. Hasim is... was a suspected bigwig in the white slavery business. So all your friends will waste their time looking very hard for you... in the middle east!" Cargill looked around, and he was very happy as he saw all of his prisoners show signs of despair. Heads drooped, shoulders went slack, and their eyes closed. He had defeated them!
Suddenly the door to the room burst open! A man stood there, clad in red tights, hood and long flowing cape. He shouted out, "Your plan failed. Nobody is going to die today. And this time the real culprit is going to jail! I recorded your little rant and it will go to the authorities!" Cargill couldn't believe his eyes! "Who are you and what are you doing in my old Red Menace outfit?" Cargill didn't wait for a reply. He pulled a weapon from his hip holster and fired a deadly projectile at the newcomer. But the red-clad rescuer held up a wrist and a glowing golden shield formed to deflect what had been fired at him. This bounced away and struck the wall to the side, exploding and leaving a nasty hole in the cement blocks. The rescuer flipped his other hand and a small packet flew at Cargill. It smacked into and stuck on his chest, and inside glass capsules broke, releasing chemicals. The solutions combined and began to foam. Soon Cargil was enveloped in a cocoon of hardening plastic foam that held him in place.
The man in red went to the tables and took out a knife, slashing away at Becky's bonds. Then he went to Donna Gilbert and pulled out a small pliers which he used to yank the power cells out of the bracelets that neutralized her powers. She misted out of her bonds and got up, moving towards Patrick Hooper to get him loose. Cargill yelled. "How could you have found this place?" The man in red turned to face the super-villain. "I knew Thomas Belham wasn't the threat here, but I thought Glory Girl might still encounter the real person behind it. So I planted a small tracking device on her belt buckle. It led me to the plant and I knew the only place they could be was down here in the bunker." Becky looked at the man and wondered, how could he have placed a tracing device on her? Cargill again screamed, wondering how his schemes could have come to this. "But no-one knew about the bunker except Belham and I..." The man in red reached up and grabbed his hood. "Wrong. One other person knew. Years ago, Thomas Belham brought his young son down here to look the old shelter over..." and he pulled the hood off, revealing... "Arnie!" Becky cried, and she ran over and wrapped her arms around him. Her head came up and their tight embrace was followed by a deep passionate kiss.
Donna Hooper disabled the electronic circuitry in the chains that held her husband, and he broke himself free of the bindings. Patrick and Donna also embraced, very relieved at their escape from such a horrible trap. Patrick then turned to where Thomas Belham still sat. Mister Patriot reached down and shredded the mancles that held the man he had hated for so long. "Belham... I... I really thought you... God, I'm sorry... Cargill played me for a patsy." Thomas stood up and looked back at the man he had hated for so long. "And I thought you were the one who framed me. I guess I was just as big a patsy." Pat added, "Can you ever forgive me?" Thomas nodded and said, "Only if you can forgive me for being so wrong about you." And they shook hands. Donna watched this, smiled, then turned and walked back to Becky.
Standing behind her daughter, who was still trapped in a liplock with Arnie, Donna cleared her throat. "Ahhmm." Becky's eyes slowly opened and her mind suddenly had the situation come in focus. She was standing there in front of her parents, in a very passionate embrace with a fellow they didn't even know. Stark naked. Oh Boy. She pulled loose and turned to her mom. One hand went down to her crotch, the other arm across her breasts. They didn't cover nearly enough. She stammered. "Ahhh. Mom... Dad!.... This is Arnie... we've... been dating." Arnie pullled off his red cape and threw it around Becky. Patrick had discovered a long white lab coat that he offered for his wife to wear. Donna looked over at Becky and spoke. "So, this must be the special fellow you've been spending so much time with. He seems very nice. But when we get home, young lady, I want a little talk with you. I'd be interested in discovering exactly what you consider 'dating'." Over on the side of the room, Patrick Hopper stood with Thomas Belham. The hero looked at what was unfolding and spoke. "Belham, it seems that your son and my daughter are serious." Belham also was looking over at the young couple. "Yes. Sigh. Kids today."
Arnie came over to his father and hugged him. "We've got it, Dad! with the information that Cargill admitted here, they'll have to release you. The parole hearing will solve everything!" Arnie's dad slumped back into the chair. "It won't work that way. I escaped from prison. There won't be any parole hearing. All that stuff won't matter." But Patrick spoke up. "Escaped? Who escaped? When we get back to the prison, I plan on talking to the warden and arranging for the records to show that after consulting with you about this case, I asked that you be released in my custody to help track down the real culprit. At the parole hearing -- which I will be sure is held -- I will add my voice to that of that young lady who will prove your conviction was a huge mistake. I think we can plan on having you and your boy over for dinner in about a week. I think I have to get to know this young man. Does he have a job?"
The police arrived and soon after, Wonder Woman. Becky had sent her a message via the JLA and was happy to see the Amazon was able to help out. In a back room, Diana wrapped her golden lasso around Cargill's shoulders and told him he did not know or suspect the secret identities of the three people there. Becky thanked Diana, but the Princess said she was still deeply in Becky's debt for the help she'd gotten on their recent adventure together. The Hoopers left the bunker and Patrick took his wife on one arm, his daughter on the other and took off for home. On the way, he whispered into Becky's ear, "So, does he have a job?" Rebecca turned to him and said, "DAD!"