All characters and locations in this story are copyright 1998 by the author. Though based on familiar comic book themes the Silk Specter series is NOT FOR CHILDREN. This story contains descriptions of violence, bondage, torture, non-consensual sex, ethnic stereotypes, and abuse of wildlife that may offend some readers.
PART A
The tropical resort city of Oceana is renown for its exotic blend of youth and antiquity. Ultra-modern resort hotels sit side-by-side with 1,000-year-old Spanish villas, and bikini-clad college students mix with local natives in street festivals that date back to the coming of the Conquistadors. By most accounts the interaction is peaceful, but the natives are restless, and vengeance is waiting in the wings
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(I) CATS IN THE CRADLE
Nina Blackstone leapt out onto the main stage of the Strand Theater, bathed in violet light and accompanied by pulsing, hypnotic music. Dressed a black evening dress and heels, the red-haired magician moved gracefully but urgently across the stage, as if looking for a place to hide. Then her pursuers were upon her; eight men wearing leather uniforms flooded in from all directions. Nina was forced to the center of the stage amidst a tightening cordon of burly men as a coffin-sized steel box descended from overhead by means of a thick hemp rope. Still defiant, she was forced backward until her back nudged up against the gleaming box.
The pace of the music quickened and the men closed in. Two seized the illusionist by either arm and pulled away her slinky dress to reveal a much skimpier costume underneath--a black sequined bikini and high heels. Then they pulled her arms behind her back and secured her wrists and ankles with stout steel manacles. Thus bound, Nina was lifted lightly and deposited in a large canvas bag lined with closely-spaced leather straps. The beefy assistants took their time, tightening each strap in succession starting from Ninas feet and working up. Gradually, the canvas was pulled into a crude representation of Nina's petite, hourglass body.
As the men worked, the teenage performer looked out into the inky darkness beyond the glaring spotlights, as if searching the very souls of the unseen crowd. At 57" and no more than 120 pounds she was hardly an imposing stage presence. But her posture was haughty, and the muscles of her arms and abdomen rippled as she struggled slightly in the ever-tightening cocoon of canvas. Her firm, perfectly rounded breasts strained against the bikini top. Ninas soft, tanned features and captivating green eyes gave her a look of youthful innocence. But her eyes twinkled with mystery and secret power that belied her youth. In the spotlight she was truly a creature of mystery, beautyand magic.
When the assistants had secured the straps up to the level of Nina's throat, one produced a ball gag and forced it into the illusionist's mouth, buckling it snugly behind her head. This would ensure all contact with the outside world would be entirely cut off for the duration of the escape. Then they finished their work, lifting the canvas bag over Nina's head and securing the final four straps until she was completely encased like a shapely cigar.
Now inescapably bound, Nina was lifted up and deposited in the narrow confines of the suspended metal coffin. The door was closed and padlocked shut then the entire box was rotated regally so as to give the audience a good look at it from all angles. From the darkness near the edge of the stage, another assistant came forward bearing a long baton aflame at either end. After twirling and throwing the baton in tight synchronization with the pounding music, the man at last touched the flame to the hemp rope supporting the cage. The rough line caught fire easily, and in only moments was engulfed in flames. Then the chamber was lifted skyward, taking Nina Blackstone with it, bound, gagged, and tightly strapped in a canvas bag.
The stage lights dimmed and a spotlight focused on the suspended box. The gleaming chamber bobbed and twisted in sympathy with the struggles of its bound occupant even as the ground slipped steadily away. The audience could see in their minds eye the beautiful magician working feverishly at her restraints as precious time slipped past. The box jerked to a halt some 30 feet above the stage--almost certainly a fatal plunge once the rope burned through. The music swirled painfully towards a climax, adding to the anxiety of the invisible crowd. Surely, Nina now only had seconds to escape from the cage or plummet disastrously to the stage
Then the spell was broken. Over the tense music there was a loud hiss, followed by a long excited yowl like a cat in heat. All attention was drawn away from the cage of doom back down to the dimly lit stage, where a young puma kitten had leapt out of a secret panel in the floor. The flustered animal quickly righted herself and began snuffing around the curtains.
The music suddenly went silent and the spotlights went out. The "rope" supporting the steel box--which was actually very strong steel--burned itself out with no plummet to the stage. A few scattered claps rang out from the largely empty auditorium of the Strand Theater. Nina Blackstone--miraculously free from her bondage-- walked out on the stage and sighed down at the cat, who looked back up at her innocently. The house lights came up, and Nina rolled with the sarcastic applause by bowing deeply.
"What are you looking at?" She shot a glance at the cute little animal cavorting at her feet. Then she turned to the second row. "I think you got me a claustrophobic puma, Pop."
Pop Sanchez sat at a small bar table, his dusty cowboy boots propped on the seat in front of him. His jeans and denim jacket still bore the dust of countless years in the wild. A crumpled cowboy hat bearing an ace of spades in the band rode atop his head, covering a thick shock of graying hair. His skin was like leather, reddened by the elements with deep-cut lines and sunken eyes. His long mustache glistened with drops of beer. Still, there was an undeniable air of strength and good humor about him. He looked exactly like what he was: one of the worlds most famous poachers and animal trainers.
"Don't worry 'bout Katrina," Pop's accent was thick and very Mexican. "She grow up with the act. By first performance, she take as much pride in the trick as you."
"I hope you're right. She needs to stay inside that compartment for at least 50 seconds until the cage drops."
"Shes just a keetten. Cant expect her to be fearless like Mishaor you." Misha was the black tiger Pop had captured for Roman Blackstone--Nina's father--for use in his own act. Roman had trained with Misha since she was a kitten, just as Nina was hoping to do with Katrina.
"Well I wish we had time for one more run," Nina slipped the dress back over her head and secured a leash to the playful animal. "But its almost noon and Benny will be opening the club soon. Can you stick around for another day to work with me tomorrow?"
"No, Misha is eager to leave. She must mourn the death of her master alone. We leave tonight."
With Roman Blackstone six months dead, Pop had come to take Misha back to his sprawling zoo-like ranch in central Mexico. Though Nina had worked with the black tiger for years as Romans assistant, she could still be unexpectedly savage around anybody else but Roman. Pop had brought the puma kitten up as a condolence gift for Nina, hoping to spare his orphaned protege the temptation to continue performing with Misha.
"Pop, I can't even get Katrina to lay down in the trap door."
"You have a way with animals, Nina, just like your papa. One day you will be a great magician. "
"Thanks for the pep talk, Pop." Nina rolled her eyes with a sexy, sarcastic smile and leaned close to her friend and mentor, "but Im already a great magician." She handed him a small, lethal-looking knife with a handle wrapped in electrical tape. Grinning, Pop took the knife from her hand and reinserted it in his boot. No sense in asking Nina just how she managed to purloin his most cherished weapon.
"And so humble, chica."
Nina led the bounding Katrina into the cool darkness backstage. At the rear of the studio was a makeshift kennel, where Misha paced nervously in her cage and a smaller cage awaited Katrina. The red-haired performer led the puma kitten into her cage and snapped it shut. Mishas deep eyes followed Nina with such an obvious look of loneliness that she couldnt help but reach in a hand and run her fingers through the soft, thick coat of the tigers head.
"I guess you do miss the old man, don't you Misha? So do I, believe it or not."
Nina and her father had never been close in the conventional sense. She had spent most of her childhood as a virtual orphan, cared for by the family servants at the dusty Blackstone family estate with an occasional intrusion by her manipulative Aunt Hypatia. With her father on the road 10 months out of the year, Nina grew up independent and willful, with a rapidly developing passion for adventure and danger that frequently landed her in trouble or the infirmary (sometimes both). Her "magic shows" put on for the neighborhood children using her father's discarded props often involved escape tricks with lethal consequences if Nina was unable to quickly extricate herself from strict bondage. Her solo journeys into the caves beneath the Blackstone mansion in search of pirate treasure generally led to her treatment for bat bites, hypothermia, and deep scrapes caused by squeezing through tiny subterranean crevices.
It was after learning that Nina had been arrested by the Water Patrol for stealing a sailing ship--crewed by orphans she had "rescued" from the local orphanage--that Roman reluctantly agreed to take his spirited 15-year- old daughter on the road with him as an apprentice assistant. To her father's surprise Nina proved to be a magic prodigy, with a near photographic memory, perfect timing, and the athletic ability of a gymnast. Within two years the pretty teenager had mastered the act and had replaced Roman's most senior assistants. By the time she turned 19, Nina was an accomplished magician herself mastering the magical arts of sleight of hand, escape, palming, audience manipulation, silent movement, and ventriloquism. Over the years she had outgrown her role as perky assistant and became Roman's alluring partner in mystery.
But their partnership was not a peaceful one. Nina considered her father too conservative and faithful to the old magical cliques. Further, he was frequently distracted and often missed practice for days on end with no explanation. Roman, on the other hand, considered his daughter to be too much of a daredevil. Nina's inclination toward revealing costumes, loud music, tight restraints, and elements of real danger often brought father and daughter into direct professional conflict. Max Petrov, Roman's long-time manager, saw the kind of attention Nina's innovations were attracting to the show and would often encourage the master magician to listen to his daughter. But Roman was a stubborn man and insisted that the act remain true to the traditional formula for stage magic.
Given Roman Blackstones frustrating conservatism, it was particularly surprising that it was he who died in a water escape illusion gone wrong. But from the day Nina learned of the disaster she knew it had been no accident. Roman was too self-obsessed to be close with his daughter, but Nina knew he was a very competent magician. His equipment had to have been rigged, and cleverly enough that Roman wouldn't notice until it was too late. She shared her theories with the police, but they wouldn't believe her. The case was too cut and dried. When even Max Petrov wouldn't believe her, she had taken matters into her own hands. Nina had assumed the role of the Silk Specter, a masked vigilante, to track down her father's killer. She soon uncovered a lot more than she had bargained for.
Following the vapor-thin trail of clues, she learned to her horror that it had been Petrov himself who had murdered her Father. Max and her Father belonged to a secret society called the Order. The Order was primarily a social club for the world's sinister elite--neutral ground where villains could form alliances, share information, and enjoy evil sports. For years Roman had been a low-ranking member conducting the local "business" of the Order in Oceana, including smuggling, grand theft, and blackmail. But at some point Roman had turned against his former brothers, collecting evidence against the shadowy group and foiling their plans whenever he could. He had even gone so far as to steal one of the Order's prized possessions, a bronze skull reported to have prophetic powers.
When Max finally uncovered Victor's treachery he rigged the shark cage to fail during a televised performance and silenced Roman Blackstone forever. When Max learned that Nina suspected his deed, he very nearly managed a similar fate for her by sealing her into a Chinese water torture tank. The details of her escape were still hazy, but as the Silk Specter Nina had managed to bring Max Petrov to justice for the death of her father. It had been one of the most frightening but exhilarating adventures in Nina's life. Since then she had devoted more and more time to crime fighting activities.
"So what do I want to be when I grow up, Misha? A magician, or a superheroine?"
The big cat purred but had no answers. With a sigh, Nina gave Misha a final scratch behind the ears and headed back to the auditorium. When she reemerged into the light of the main room she found the staff scurrying around in preparation for opening. Pop was at the bar, sipping another long neck on her tab. His eyes were locked on the television. Nina followed his gaze to the conservatively dressed reporter interviewing a fat Mexican man in an expensive suit. Oddly enough, they were standing before a rough-looking group of hombre's dressed in cowboy clothes.
"here reporting live from the Mission District, where the entire city is looking forward to the Roundup Festival, a tradition dating back to Oceana's days as a major livestock center. Now those days are long gone, so the buffalo herd will be provided, as in the past several years, by millionaire rancher and philanthropist Juan Chavez. I have Mr Chavez with me here today. So tell us, what can we expect for this years festival?"
"Gale, this festival will be the best in the modern history of Oceana. By 12:00 tomorrow, my cowhands will arrive driving over 300 head of buffalo! For a few hours it will be just like the old days."
"And I understand you will be bringing a special guest with you."
"Ahh, yes. An albino calf was born was born in my heard last Spring. She will be honored at the Roundup Festival this year."
"Honored?"
"Yes! The Hicsoc Indians who dwelt here even before Oceana was founded believed strongly that the white calf was a powerful omen. I have invited them to perform their ancient rite of welcome for the crowd this year."
"Sounds exciting, Mr Chavez. Thank you for your time."
"Thank you, Gale, for having me."
"So thats it for the Mission Square, Carl. As you can tell, the party has already started here and will run all night until the arrival of the thundering herd tomorrow morning. So if partying with 300 buffalo turns you on, come on down" The camera drew back from the reporter and surveyed the crowd of revelers.
"Ey Caramba!" Pop suddenly slammed his beer bottle on the bar and leaned closer to the TV.
"What is it Pop? Chavez?"
"No, there next to Chavez. Joey Dakota!" Pop pointed to the screen. Following his finger, Nina was led to a savagely handsome cowboy flanked on all sides by tough-looking Indians in leather. His smile was broad but the gleam in his eye looked definitely dangerous.
"Dakota is a horse thief, a murderer, a kidnapper, and Casanova," Pop never took his eyes off the screen. "Last I heard he was serving six consecutive life sentences in Mexico. What's he doing here?"
"Are you sure its him?"
"I never forget the face of the man behind a gun pointed at me."
"What about his Indian friends?"
"Apache Lords. Biker gang. Very tough. The man next to him there, that's Billy Bare. Killed ten men with his bare hands, they say. Sadistic bastard too. "
The image of Joey and Billy Bare was gone, replaced by the vanilla personage of the news anchor. Pop snapped out of his spell, and turned his head to Nina.
"You got trouble."
"But if they're up to no good, why would they be down there standing next to Juan Chavez?"
"Maybe just chance. Maybe theyre together." Pop had a healthy distrust for rich men like Chavez. "You'd better call the police."
"Yeah I will. Thanks for the warning Pop," she gave Pop a friendly hug. "Drive safe."
Nina threw her athletic bag over hear shoulder and headed to her car, an inexpensive Japanese sedan. As she drove through the crowded streets of Oceana her thoughts were focused on Dakota. If Chavez was involved in some kind of caper, it wouldnt do any good to call the police. The cops of Oceana were virtually controlled by the rich and elite, who paid extravagant sums to avoid undo monitoring of their business and pleasure activities. But maybe the Silk Specter could pay Dakota a visit, to let him know that his presence wasnt lost on Oceanas newest vigilante.
Nina left the fashionable streets of Oceanas entertainment district far behind and finally pulled her car into an alley leading to a small garage behind the dilapidated Spirit Theater. After Romans death, Nina discovered to her fury that Hypatia had doctored her fathers will over the years so that she would receive the entire estate, including the house and all his money. Hypatia didnt know about the Spirit Theater, however, which Roman had purchased to serve as the headquarters for his activities against the Order. Nina had uncovered the deed while investigating Romans murder and now used it as her own home. The strange old theater held many secrets, but none stranger than the fact that it served as the headquarters of Oceanas newest femme fatale.
Entering through a heavy rear door, Nina immediately mounted a set of circular stairs and headed for her loft apartment. She had been meticulously restoring the sprawling art deco apartment since moving in and had decorated it with treasures she discovered while exploring the theater. The dark, polished oak paneling was now restored to its original luster and the parquet floor was sanded and sealed. The original stained glass and art deco light fixtures had been fully restored and perfectly complemented the new overstuffed furniture and modern art. Ninas black cat Tabitha padded over from behind a restored fortune telling machine to greet her master.
"No time to cuddle, Tibi," Nina picked up the purring cat. "Going out tonight."
Nina took a quick shower and rinsed the red theatrical dye out of her hair. Her father had insisted she dye her hair for the act, and at first Nina had bitterly resented the demand. But now as a seasoned performer she could see the wisdom in the decision -- her coppery locks had added a splash of color to Roman's otherwise black and white show. It also had the added advantage that all her fans and stage associates thought of Nina Blackstone as a natural redhead. This made it easier to conceal her identity as a masked crime fighter, but it also caused a strange identity crisis: she often felt more like herself as the Silk Specter than as Nina Blackstone.
After finishing her shower, the now raven-haired magician trotted still drying her hair to the small library packed with books Roman had accumulated over the years, mostly on the subject of the paranormal. She pushed on the spine of a copy of "Martyrs, Magicians, and Madmen." The bookcase clicked ajar, and Nina pulled it open just far enough to slip inside and close the secret door behind her.
The room behind the bookcase was crammed with the effects of her daredevil alter ego, Silk Specter. Though her father had given her little love he did leave a lot of money in the form of gold coins stashed in the theater. She used her strange "inheritance" to purchase some of the best equipment money could buy. Her costumes were hand-made in Italy by the Baretta Corporation, incorporating the latest high-tech fabrics as well as the Italian flare for exotic design. Her car, Black Magic, was a Dodge Viper modified in England with armor, bulletproof glass, defensive weapons, and a self-healing paint job. Her tricks and crime fighting gadgets were the best the magic community could provide.
Nina completed her transformation and emerged into her secret study with the speed and precision only possible for a skilled performer. Her costume consisted of a long-sleeve turtle neck body suit, French cut and tight around the trunk but loosening near her chest. Shoulder pads sewn in the body suit gathered the glossy fabric at her shoulders and gave her 57" frame a more angular look. The sleeves tapered quickly until they were skin tight from her elbow to the cuffs of her short leather gloves. Nina's legs above her thigh-length high-heeled boots were clad in ultra-sheer, translucent tights that glistened in the dim light. A silky flowing cape extended to just above her knees and an eye mask was secured to her face with theatrical adhesive, covering her face from hairline to cheekbones with wet-looking latex. The entire outfit was violet-black and made of a soft, elastic material with a silky look that well suited her namesake.
In addition to the skintight costume she also wore a utility belt and left wrist bracer. Her broad utility belt was lined with compartments for crime fighting gear, secured by a brushed steel buckle bearing her double-s insignia, with one "S" appearing as a mirror image of the other creating a representation of a shapely ghost. A holster was secured to the rear of the belt in the small of Nina's back, neatly concealed behind her cape. Into the holster she slipped her 9mm Glok, loaded with gyro tranquilizer darts. The wrist bracer was especially designed for firing a number of custom projectiles, including drag lines and fiber optic probes.
Her secret study contained all of Roman's journals and other information regarding the members and activities of the Order. It contained enough leads and intimate information on criminal masterminds for a life-time of crime fighting -- a lifetime that even the most junior of Order members was capable of cutting dramatically short. At the center of the room was the strange bronze skull, the Oracle of the Spirit Theater, which Roman had stolen at the cost of his life. She had heard it actually speak on several occasions, and each time her very survival had depended on her correct interpretation of its shrouded prophecies. It was, in fact, the Oracle that had given Nina her name, greeting her as "Silk Specter, servant of The White."
But the Oracle apparently had no words for her today and Nina was in a hurry. She stepped to the back of the room and put both gloved hands on a firemans pole that descended into the basement of the Spirit
"Greetings Silk Specter, servant of the White." The deep inhuman voice of the oracle sent chills up and down Ninas spine. She stopped and walked slowly back towards the skull, which seemed to glow softly. "The praedial gods are liars that tell the truth. Among their own words are sown the seeds of their destruction. But beware, their living seed is death to mortals, and their offspring are as snakes in the desert."
The Silk Specter stood expectantly, waiting for the lurching voice to start up again. But the Oracle had fallen silent, leaving Nina to ponder its latest utterance.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, praedial gods? Hmmm."
Keeping her eye on the Oracle for any last-second bursts of clarification, Nina backed up to the pole once again. At last, she slid down the long bar into the cellar of the Spirit Theater, where Black Magic waited. The heavily modified black Dodge Viper brooded in the musty darkness.
"Locks," the Maid of Mystery broke the eerie silence. Black Magic successfully matched the voiceprint and the door clicked open. The Silk Specter slipped into the black leather confines of the car behind the tinted glass. The control console glowed orange before her.
"Power plant on."
The engine purred to life as the Specter strapped herself in and added a black helmet. A touch on the gas pedal sent the sleek car forward into the darkness.
The basement garage beneath the theater emptied out into the large storm sewer system beneath Oceanas ancient streets. During the tropical wet season, the broad tunnels would be flooded with five feet of water. Then the Specter would use the secret above ground exit near the theater. But during the long summer, the tunnels were dry as a bone and gave her concealed access to almost anywhere in the city. Through the infrared filter of her helmet-mounted display, she could vaguely make out the contrast between the walls of the tunnels and the floor. The phosphorescent markers she had carefully painted on the walls over the months clearly directed her towards the proper exit. She emerged from the tunnels only blocks from the vast Mission Square.
She left Black Magic on the outskirts of the huge open space, which had been converted into an impromptu parking lot. Her costume didnt earn her much notice in the unwholesome, wildly dressed crowd assembled for the pre-roundup party.
The Specter clenched her fists at her sides as she saw that Pop's suspicions were confirmed: this was no ordinary street festival. The revelers had added their own sinister twists to traditional Wild West themes. There were Indians with evil war paint and skin-tight leather, Chinese coolies with tattooed chests and long pig tails, and ghoulish gun-slingers of every description, most of which were carrying real .44s. The crowd definitely went beyond the limits of good clean fun, and into the shadowy realm of gang-related psychoparties. And somewhere in their midst was Joey Dakota, leader of a band of outlaws that had traded in their horses for Harleys.
The Silk Specter penetrated deeper into the crowd. She made her way around the shadowy perimeter of a bonfire attended by a group of ragged, wild-eyed confederate infantrymen. Then she came upon a wagon where a skull-faced traveling salesman was peddling an elixir called "demon fire." In each bottle of reddish liquid floated a small twisted body that Nina did not care to inspect further. Next, she came upon a woman standing naked in the midst of a small ring lit by torches. She was surrounded by rattlesnakes. Indeed, they crawled all over her body. She danced and swayed in the midst of the slithering mass and, remarkably, the snakes seemed to ignore her.
So absorbed was the Maid of Mystery in the womans hypnotic dance that she walked headlong into a huge man. He was dressed like a Mexican soldier from the era of Santa Ana and smelled of tequila and body odor.
"Excusa, senior," She muttered, but found his arm blocking her way. She made eye contact with the man, fully two feet taller and 200 pounds heavier than she.
"What is the rush, little cowgirl?" the Mexicans English was poor and slurred. He tried to seize her with a thick hand but she easily ducked aside.
"Look, Id love to stick around but Im looking for someone"
"And you have found him!" The man reached out again. The Specter took one wrist in both her hands and ducked nimbly behind him, pulling the arm behind his back. With his arm in a tight hammerlock the man was forced to double over until he was at eye-level with the teenage vigilante.
"Im looking for Joey Dakota. Know where he is?"
"Owww, Seniorita. Let me go!" The Mexicans struggles all but lifted the slim heroine off her feet. But she held firm.
"Just tell me where to find Dakota!"
"ARRRGGH!" With no regard for his own arm, the Mexican finally threw the Silk Specter over his shoulder.
"Look I dont want any trouble with you"
"Then, how about trouble with all of us." Rough hands seized at her from behind. The masked avenger shook free and moved back towards her initial assailant, reevaluating her tactical situation.
The drunk mans friends had shown up. Now a circle of dirty, uniformed "soldiers" formed around the Silk Specter. The stench of the rabble was staggering, but that was the furthest thing from the petite crime-fighter's mind at the moment.
"The Silk Specter?!!" A neatly mustachioed man lit a match and held it against a short thin cigar. "Horhe, you have extremely good taste in women. But dont be deceived by her small size. Shes a fighter."
"Look compadre, " the Specters voice was steady. "Im looking for Joey Dakota. You seen him?"
"Oh yes! In fact, well take you to him. After, of course, we get a little peek under your mask. Bring her to me."
TEN ON ONE! SOUND LIKE FAIR ODDS? WELL DON'T COVER YOUR EYES YET. ITS BUTT-KICKING TIME IN OCEANA, BUT WHOSE BUTT WILL IT BE?
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(II) HONKY TONK OF DOOM
Men at all points along the circle around the Specter produced long bullwhips. After giving the sexy heroine a moment to appreciate her dire situation, they lashed out, aiming for wrists and ankles. But the teenage dynamo was ready for them. One she struck full in the chest with a grapple fired from her wristband. With the other hand she seized one of the whips which had far over-shot its mark, wrenching it suddenly out of its drunken wielders grasp. The two whips at her ankles struck home, however, pulling her suddenly into the splits. Then the men were upon her, chains and brass knuckles in hand.
For a moment, the Specter was completely obscured by the crowd of reeking attackers. But then there was a crack, and the violent assemblage was shrouded in green smoke. In seconds the men fell over unconscious and the Maid of Mystery pushed her way out of the mass. She trained her Glok on the leader.
"Youre lucky I have bigger fish to fry tonight, senior. Now where is Joey Dakota?"
"You wouldnt shoot an unarmed man, Seniorita. You super heroes are all alike."
"True," the Specter shrugged as she picked up a whip from one of the unconscious men. "But I can be very persuasive." She cracked the whip with skilled precision.
The mans eyes narrowed as he stared deep into the eyes of his shapely adversary, probing her will to carry out the threat. He saw only remorseless determination in the young crime fighter.
"Very well. Mr Dakota is camped near the fountain at the center of the plaza. Look for the circle of totems and the tribal fire."
"So Joeys been hanging out with the Indians hugh?"
"Among others, yes. I wonder how much they will charge me for your fine raven scalp."
"More than you got, considering what its going to cost them to get it."
"We shall see Seniorita." With that the Silk Specter continued towards the center of the plaza, picking her way through the gawking crowd, dazed from her recent performance.
Slipping through a line of closely parked semi trailers, the Silk Specter emerged in full view of Joey Dakotas camp. Just as the Mexican had said, there was a large bonfire set, flanked on either side by evil, grinning totem poles. Over 20 thugs clustered in groups, talking roughly, swilling Mad Dog and smoking crack. They were all dressed as Indians, as if Indians ever wore biker chains, tattoos and .357s. The only true Indian the Specter could confirm was Billy Bare--Joeys mass murdering sidekick--standing almost next to her. He wore a long leather coat that concealed a sawed-off .12 gauge. So silent had been her approach that Billy was still ignorant of her presence.
And the Silk Specter took the opportunity to introduce herself. With a smooth sweep she knocked Billys feet out from underneath him. Then she landed with an elbow to his esophagus, partially collapsing his airway. Still, Billy was a tough hombre, and made to get up despite the punishment. The Specter seized the shotgun beneath his coat and swung upward between his legs with all her might. The big man would have cried out like a new born babe on his way to the ground if the dark-haired vigilante hadnt quickly covered his mouth.
Joey himself was lost in the throws of passion in the back seat of his 74 Impala convertible. He was a brutally handsome man, slim with sharp features, a dimpled chin, and sandy blonde hair. He filled every inch of the back seat, and was perhaps 62" standing up. His long face bore two days of stubble and his steely blue eyes were utterly confident and dangerous. Despite herself, Nina quietly caught her breath at the site of the gorgeous outlaw.
A beautiful, petite Indian woman straddled Joey Dakota, determined to ride the desperado for all he was worth. The firelight from the distant bonfire reflected from her sweat-covered body, highlighting her sexy war paint. Joey was lost in the heat of the moment until he felt the lurch of the car. The Silk Specter pumped the shotgun for dramatic effect, ejecting a perfectly good shell onto the front seat.
"Good evening, Joey. Hands off that Peacemaker."
Joeys hand froze--just inches away from the pearl handle of his favorite shooting iron--and he smiled up at his unwanted guest with surprising calm. His eyes seemed to bore right through her and the blood rushing to Ninas cheeks was from more than just adrenaline. After a tense moment he pulled his hand away from the gun. The Specter kicked it quickly away with her foot.
"Well, well, if it isnt Miss Law and Order. I see theyre arming superheroes a little heavier than I remembered."
"A gal cant be too careful in these rough neighborhoods." She motioned to the girl. "Off."
"Thats okay, sugar," Joey cooed to the woman. "Take the front seat. Have a smoke but dont you even think about coolin off."
The woman slipped off Joey, leaving the bare-chested cowboy alone in the sites of the .12 gauge with his jeans down to his knees. Joey was lean but not overly muscular and--Nina couldn't help noticing--very well endowed. Around his neck he wore a heavy chain which bore a gold medallion the size of Nina's fist. At its center was a beautiful green emerald. Nina diverted her eyes from sightseeing and got back to business.
"See anything you want to buy?" The bandito smiled slyly. "I can guarantee you a hell of a lot better time than your prom date."
"I see theyve reduced the sentence for extortion and multiple homicide in Mexico towhatsix months?"
"Yeah, well, I got time off for good behavior."
"So what brings you to Oceana? You and the rest of the tribe following the herds of college girls to the beaches for spring break?"
"Now Slick, Im offended. Im deeply saddened by the plight of the red man. Reminds me of my own rejection by society."
"That a little present from the chief? Looks pricey." It was more than pricey, Nina knew, and it somehow tugged on the corners of her memory.
"Just a little something I want to keep close to my heart. I only wear it around those I trust."
"Spare me the theatrics. Once you bilk these people of their" she looked over at the Indian woman, "hospitality, Im sure theyll find a knife in their collective backs."
"Look, honey, are you going to talk me to death? Better use that hogs leg or put it up and let me get back to my party."
The Specter slowly ejected the shells from the shotgun as she spoke. "Just wanted to let you know Im watching you, Joey. You break the law here and Im taking you down."
"Im just here for the Roundup. And for a good time."
"I doubt that. Here, give Billy his thunderstick back. Tell him his balls will stop hurting in about a week." She threw the shotgun at Joey, who caught it in both hands. With that, the Silk Specter faded into the darkness.
"Yeah, " Joey sounded preoccupied. "Ill do that."
After a moment, the Indian woman crept back over the seat and nuzzled in close to Joey, but he seemed distant. "Little Feather, go fetch Mad Mary. I think Im going to need a special bridle for that filly. Im going to break her good before I string her up."
****
The moon was huge in the sky, causing the white stucco that dominated Oceanas Spanish architecture to give off an eerie glow. The wind blew stiffly in from the warm ocean, carrying the mingled smells of salt, surf, and rotting sea vegetation. The all-night parties still raged in the clubs along the beach, even at three o'clock in the morning. The wharves also bustled with activity, just as they did every day of the year. Huge cranes relentlessly loaded and unloaded the cargoes of foreign freighters and crates from a thousand ports-of-call piled up in the countless warehouses lining the waterfront. It was a businessman's dreamand a smugglers paradise.
Joey Dakota's rusty green Impala rambled up to a small overhead door in a side alley away from the main warehouse entrances. After a moment the door lifted and Joey pulled slowly in. The car was greeted by a half dozen men in black suits carrying machine pistols. Joey stepped casually out of the car, accustomed to trafficking with such men. Billy Bare, strangely enough, opted to remain seated in the car.
"Ahh, Hans," Joey walked up to distinguished gentlemen in the midst of the bodyguards. "What's with all the pistolaros?"
"I apologize for the theatrics, Mr Dakota," the man spoke in a thick German accent. "But I have instructions to continue our operations here in Oceana with utmost caution."
"Caution, hugh? Well we know what you mean, don't we Billy?" Joey flashed a mischievous grin at his partner. "Seems Oceana's got a ghost problem."
"Yes," Hans smiled. "I see you've already met our daring little friend. She's a minor irritant, but she has something that belongs to us. Until we eliminate her, I take no chances."
"Well, I'm arranging a very special surprise for the Silk Specter. I don't think you'll be seeing her again."
"I look forward to hearing of your success. In the meantime, we have some business to conduct. Where is the priestess?"
"She is preparing her people for the attack. Sort of stirring the pot."
"Commendable, but if I don't get the amulet there will be no pot to stir."
"Yeah, man," Joey smiled and withdrew the golden amulet from beneath his shirt. "The Amulet of Teczcatlepulca."
The man took the amulet, greed showing plainly in his blue eyes. Then his smile disappeared.
"Wait, there should be a stone here, a green emerald."
"Yeah, there is. But you get that, AFTER you hold up your end of the bargain."
"Fair enough, Mr Dakota. Care to sample the merchandise?"
Men came forward with a heavy wooden crate. They pried open the lid and moved aside the packing to reveal a line of Uzi sub machine guns.
"Five hundred automatic weapons, as our deal stipulated, plus 500 pistols, 220,000 rounds of ammunition and 20 Dragon anti-tank missiles. My supplier in Tel Aviv even threw in a case of claymore mines for the volume business. That's enough to start a tidy little war."
"Tidy little holy war, Hans."
"As you wish," he inclined his head. "So where do you want delivery?"
"Out in El Nino, a ghost town near the Reservation. "
"Of course. Is tomorrow acceptable?"
"That's just fine. That'll give me some time to wrap up my personal business."
"Very well, I'll make the necessary arrangements."
"Good, I get the guns, and you get the gem for that little necklace of yours. And one more thing. Might want to lay low for the next couple of days. Its gonna be a hot time in the old villa, if you know what I mean."
"Don't worry, Mr Dakota, you steer clear of the areas we've agreed upon, and the rest of the city is yours. If you violate the boundaries, you'll know."
****
The Silk Specter pulled up discreetly in an alley deep in the heart of Ocean Citys northside barrio. Nina traveled with no headlights, relying instead on the infrared viewer in her helmet. The only indicator of her arrival was the crunching sound as Black Magic rolled over the bits of fallen ceramic tile from the roofs far overhead. The tracker she had placed in Joey's car was working perfectly. After spending a few more hours at the party he had traveled directly here, to a large moldering building fronted by dingy bars. Most likely it was the hideout of the Apache Lords. She would have to be very careful.
The Silk Specter moved over to a heavy steel door and optimistically tried the handle. Of course, it was locked tight. Removing the picks from her utility belt, the masked teenager went to work on the lock. After long minutes, the stout mechanism yielded to her highly trained fingers. With a swirl of her silky cape she slipped into the darkness beyond.
The Maid of Mystery stopped just inside the door, waiting for her eyes to better adjust and to absorb the feel of the place. It was pitch black, and there were no sounds. The floor underfoot was uneven, as if covered by broken tile. Based on air movement, she estimated she was in some type of open area, perhaps a garage. It smelled of mildew, oil, and old age. After satisfying herself that she was alone for the present, the Silk Specter slipped on her night vision goggles. Now she could see some contrasts that confirmed she was on a landing overlooking a dilapidated storage area, cluttered with junk. A set of stairs to her left led steeply down to the floor of the garage. Like a shadow, she started to descend.
But suddenly, the stairs beneath her disappeared with a loud clang. They all dropped at once to form a steep, smooth slide descending toward the basement floor. The masked avenger realized almost too late, however, that there was no floor at the foot of the stairs. Instead it was the maw of an open pit. At the bottom of the slide the Specter felt the sickening feeling of free fall, which she only just managed to halt by a lucky grab at the edge of the pit.
Her gloved hands worked desperately to improve her grip as she hung suspended above inky nothingness. She tried desperately to touch the walls with her feet but to no avail. Then she heard a noise that made her blood run cold. It sounded like the urgent shaking of a child's toy rattle. The night vision goggles showed nothing but the rattle was soon joined by a chorus of others, all coming from the unseen floor not far beneath her feet. Suddenly, the lights came on with blinding fury. The Silk Specter shook the goggles off her head, slinging them into the pit where they were greeted by renewed rattles.
"Well, well, if it isnt the Silk Specter. I figured you'd be along soon enough."
The Specter squinted up to see Joey Dakota grinning down at her with a relaxed cowboy scowl. He held a sawed off shot gun trained at her head. She could now clearly make out the carpet of rattlers perhaps four feet below her feet. The walls of the pit were a good six feet away from the mouth of the trap door, denying her any opportunity to plant her feet and improve her grip.
"Youre pretty good Slick. It took my boys over an hour to find the bug you planted in my car."
"You just cant get good help anymore," Nina quipped coolly.
"I know you beach babes would probably prefer a pit of sharks or something," Joey chided, "but snakes do have one advantage. Theyre cold blooded and hard to spot using night vision goggles. By the way, this is the part where you beg for your life."
The Silk Specter was gasping for breath, struggling to keep her grip. "Now doesn't that seem a little extreme, Joey. It's only our first date."
"Well, I'm afraid you're worth more dead to me than alive." Joey positioned the balls of his feet over the Silk Specters fingers. The teenage heroine grimaced as her fingers were crushed between hard leather and cold steel. "You know business is business."
"Gaining a little weight, Joey?" the Specter hissed.
"Yeah, but Mama always said I was a little scrawny. Till I shot her."
One hand slipped suddenly free, leaving the Silk Specter dangling by a single hand. But it was release with a purpose. With blinding speed, the Maid of Mystery reached into a compartment of her utility belt and dropped a number of pellets into the pit. They went off all around her, enveloping the entire pit in stun gas. Then she was gone, dropped into the pit. A moment later, a drag line shot up from the pit and wrapped around a steal beam supporting the roof. The Silk Specter followed immediately behind it, kicking the shotgun from the hands of a shocked Joey Dakota.
But just as she began her swing to freedom a heavy knife whizzed through the air. The blade cleanly severed the line, sending the Specter plummeting back down to the steel floor of the pit. The jarring impact was enough to make the sexy vigilante take in a small gasp of surprise, but that was all it took. She immediately fell unconscious, victim of her own stun gas.
"Great throw Billy. You knocked our little birdie clean out of the sky." The huge Indian walked up to stand beside Joey, staring into the pit. "Now what do you say you go down there and fish her out, fore them rattlers wake up."
****
When the Silk Specter woke up, she was lying flat on her back on a long bar stinking of stale beer. She was still dressed in her costume, though her cape, utility belt, and wrist bracer had been removed. Her arms were pulled tightly behind her back, with each wrist tied to the opposite elbow.
"Oh, awake already?" Joey stood behind her putting the finishing touches on her bondage. "Thats good cause I just love a girl with spunk. Its a shame to sleep away your last few minutes of your life."
Joey tightened a final leather strap then sat the Silk Specter up to confront her fate. She was in the main room of the dark seedy bar, empty but apparently equipped for business. It seemed to be a "honky tonk" with a Wild West theme.
"Normally, Id like to have a little fun with you first," he ran the tip of his knife lightly across the Specter's shapely breasts. She shivered with unwanted stimulation. "But you pointed a gun at me. Any man--or woman-- who points a gun at Joey Dakota shares the same fate."
Joey directed her attention to the contraption in the corner of the room. In the midst of a ring of sawdust stood a mechanical bull, the machine designed to test the machismo of urban cowboys. But the Specters eyes narrowed with apprehension as she noticed the modifications made to the bull's saddle. Set into the rubber saddle of the machine was a knobbed black dildo. And from the ceiling just above the mechanical bull hung a hangmans rope.
"Im going to go steal that albino buffalo from that old ranch hand who doesnt know anything better do with it than show it off at two-bit rodeos. In the mean time, youre going to have a little rodeo of your own. Then youre going to hang."
The Silk Specter struggled as two thugs carried her towards the mechanical monster.
"I imaging you can figure out for yourself how this thing works," Joey ran a finger down the dildo and it came back dripping with lubricant. "Youre going to romp on this lady-killer here while we steal the buffalo. It may be a little uncomfortable, but as soon as you get bucked off, you hang. Mount her up!"
Rough men lifted the petite vigilante until she straddled the horse just behind the dildo. The touch of the monster against her crotch sent a chill through her body. She tried to kick at her captors with no success as a sea of lusty hands easily lifted the bound heroine until her crotch was at the level of the dildo. Eagerly a man pulled aside the silky material of her body suit and slit her hose just over her pussy. She was already wet from the indescribable mix of fear and sexual tension.
"Get away from me you sick bastards!" she muttered as she was forced against the dildo, lips spread wide.
"Should have thought of that before you cold-cocked Billy. Now its you who gets the cold cock."
"Hmmmm! Ahhhhh!" The Silk Specters moans filled the room as she was forced down on the dildo. As her bottom settled into the saddle the men guided her boots into the stirrups on either side.
"Ahhh, now youre sitting pretty. But wait, thats not all. Gentlemen, how about that rope."
The Specter was powerless to resist as the men slipped the rope over her head, pulled her long hair through, then tightened the noose around her throat.
"That's one of Billy Bare's deluxe one-way slip knots. Once it gets tight, there ain't no loosening it. Now this bull works on a timer, the longer you ride the harder it bucks. Snakeman tricked it up a bit so I figure it will take about an hour to reach full power, enough to throw a 200-pound man clear across the room. Luckily, youll have a little extra leverage."
Joeys henchmen laughed roughly in anticipation of the costumed cuties cruel ordeal. The dildo was not overly thick , but was quite long and secured very firmly to the saddle. As Joey said, it would certainly extend her ride on the bucking machine, and ensure she was thoroughly reamed before meeting her death dangling from the one-way noose. Ninas heart raced as her own juices mingled with the lubricant already coating the phallus. Joey continued.
"Now you have quite a ride ahead of you, and I dont want you waking up the neighbors. So I made a special bit and bridle just for you." He produced a broad leather strap with a long rubber penis attached to it. "Any final words?"
"What do you want with that buffalo, Joey," Nina played for time. "Doesn't sound like your kind of caper."
"Well you are a curious little kitty, ain't you Slick? That calf may be a trophy to Chavez, but right next door on the Hicsoc reservation she's an omen. The legend says that Nahoc, the great war chief, will one day appear on a white buffalo and lead the Hicsoc nation to crush the white devil."
"So YOU'RE going to ride onto to Hicsoc Reservation and pretend to be Nahoc? Sounds a little ambitious for a two-bit gunslinger like you."
"Well I got friends in high places. Too bad Mariposa ain't here to watch you die. She goes through cute gringos like Billy Bare goes through tequila."
"The High Priestess of the Hicsoc?" Roman's journals noted that Mariposa was a viscous, ambitious woman, but Nina was amazed that she would trust the fate of her entire nation to a bandito like Joey Dakota.
"Never trust a woman, Slick. You of all people should appreciate that. Now open wide." The Silk Specter was stunned, all she could do was open her mouth and allow Joey to force the penis gag in. Once in her mouth, he positioned the buckle behind her head and pulled it tight.
"Alright boys, lets vamoose. Im sure the Silk Specter is dyin to get started."
With that he flipped a switch on the wall and the bull started to move. The mechanical beast glided around the sawdust ring, flipping and bucking gently on its lowest setting. The Silk Specter struggled prettily in her bonds, muscles dancing beneath the skin-tight fabric of her costume. Joey Dakota blew the Maid of Mystery a kiss and turned out the lights.
IS THIS THE END OF THE SILK SPECTER? WILL JOEY AND HIS MYSTERIOUS ACCOMPLICE SUCCEED IN TAKING CONTROL OF THE ENTIRE HICSOC NATION? AND IF SO, THEN WHAT? HANG ON TRUE BELIEVERS, THE ANSWERS ARE HANGING JUST AROUND THE CORNER.
====
(III) TATTLERS AND RATTLERS
The Silk Specter lost count of the number of orgasms that had torn through her while she rode the sinister horse. The dildo was aligned with fiendish precision. Each buck sent her body straight up along the knobbed shaft until her feet caught in the stirrups. Then back down she would fall until fully impaled, and another wave of stimulation would course through her. As the minutes bucked by, the gyrations of the bull grew more frantic and her mechanical rape took on new dimensions of pleasure and pain. She pulled with all her strength but the leather bondage was expertly tied and very tight.
Click.
The unpredictable motion of the mechanical bull grew noticeably more violent and the Silk Specter was thrown yet more wildly up and down on the dildo. She was exhausted and her body was drenched with sweat from the constantly intensifying effort to stay alive. Her long dark hair streamed regally behind her jerking head as the head as the bull lurched madly around the sawdust ring. The room was nothing but a blur and the teenage heroine's mind was awash with passion brought on by the tight bondage, mortal danger, and prolonged ramming. Coherent thought was all but impossible, but this was actually a blessing. For the expertly tied leather straps and painful gag kept her helpless and silent, while the noose around her throat promised nothing but death. By all rational accounts, she was as good as dead.
Click.
Again the mechanical bronco stepped up its motion, and the Specter realized with horror that her boots were beginning to slip free from the stirrups. The rope had already been drawn quite tight around her throat by the jerking motion of the bull, a precursor to the death that awaited her at any moment. But still her young body responded to the endless stimulation of the dildo, driving her further and further beyond the limits of sexual endurance. She had think--to fight through the haze of endorphins--or she was doomed.
But then she saw her last slim chance for survival! The rope about her neck was secured to the ceiling by a steel "J" hook attached to a rafter by a swivel joint. As the bull bucked it also moved laterally around the sawdust circle. At one point on the lateral trajectory she could actually look up and see the rope firmly seated deep in the crook of the "J" hook. So at the opposite extreme of her lateral motion--when the top of the rope was behind her and out of sight--the knot was certainly being pulled to the outer lip of the hook. If she could leap up and out with enough force, she just might be able to pull the noose entirely off the "J" hook.
If not, the rope would probably snap back with enough force to break her neck. At least her death would be quick and at the moment anything seemed better than being fucked into oblivion by the fiendish bronco.
She timed her leap as carefully as the dildo torture would allow. When she was in the proper lateral position and at the top of the latest horrible buck, she slipped her feet from the stirrups and gained an instantaneous foothold on top of the horse. Then with all her remaining strength she propelled herself into the air and forward. The rope snapped sickeningly taught as it reached full extension and Nina thought for a moment that she was dead. But then it suddenly went slack as the rope came free from the hook and Nina landed amidst the strategically placed bales of straw!
She lay there motionless for several minutes, trying to recover her breath -- which was no small feat considering the tight noose and the shaft of rubber in her mouth. The mechanical bull, sensing that it had finally thrown its persistent if unwilling rider, whined to a stop. Nina's crotch tingled and burned, but the pain at least proved that she was still alive.
And it would all be a small price to pay for the opportunity to kick Joey Dakota's butt.
The Silk Specter wouldn't have to wait long for the rematch opportunity with Dakota. Just as she worked her way free from the bondage holding her arms and cut the noose, she heard a large garage door opening in the back of the building. Part of her just wanted to flee, to rest after her ordeal. But Nina fought down her natural instinct to retreat. Pop was right when he said Joey was up to something big. The lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people were at stake. She had to put a stop it before it was too late.
Nina unbuckled the penis gag even as she unbolted the heavy door leading out the front of the tavern. Then she ducked back behind the bar, slipping into a small cabinet with sliding doors.
" so now lets see if Slick is still 'hanging' around," Joey said grandly as he and his gang burst into the bar room. "What! Gone?"
Nina heard the shuffle of men's feet and the rustle of iron against leather. She wished, and not for the last time, that she still had her pistol.
"Door's unlocked, Joey, " one of the Lords said with a Jersey accent. "looks like she scrammed."
"But she's STILL ALIVE!" Dakota bellowed in frustration. "No one points a gun at me and lives!
"Blackhawk, track her down. Sniff the ground, taste the wind, do whatever that crap is you do to find her. And Mary."
"Yeah, Joey?"
PAHHHH! Nina could hear the impact of Joey's fist against flesh then the sound of fist on bone.
"I told you we needed a bridle to hold a wildcat!" There was heavy whump and a gasp as a heavy foot drove the air out of the unfortunate henchwoman. "String her up on that bronc. If the Specter could escape, lets see if Mary can figure it out before she hangs."
Nina could hear Mary curse, buck and sob as her clothes were torn away. Finally her cries were stifled as someone ripped off a piece of duct tape and covered her mouth. The rustle of rope indicated that she was securely bound then dragged kicking and screaming to the horse.
"What are we gonna do now Joey? That Specter kid is going to go straight to the cops."
"And tell 'em what? That some lone desperado just rode into town and is gonna lead the entire Hicsoc Indian nation down Main Street and loot the city? They'd laugh her tights right out of town hall!"
Mary's moans became more urgent as the men laughed the laugh Nina knew all too well. Apparently she was being lifted astride the terrible machine.
"Now this place could be crawling with cops any minute. When they get here the only thing they'll find is Mary, dead, dumb and about 4 inches taller. You men, go with Blackhawk. I imagine the Silk Specter ran home to daddy after her little joy ride. You can kill everyone else, but I want her back ALIVE, you hear?"
"You got it boss." The men snickered. Mary's moaned pitifully as she was impaled on the horse.
"Billy, Little Feather and I have to get back to the bunkhouse to meet some old friends. You still got our little green friend there close to your heart Darlin?"
"Feel for yourself," Little Feather cooed and Nina could imagine the groping scene that followed. The problem was, she could even see herself participating without much protest. Pop had warned her that Joey had animal magnetism, and he wasn't joking.
The horse started up with the whine of hydraulics and the buzz of electric motors. Mary's muffled, almost unintelligible cries for help fell on deaf ears as the men made hasty preparations to clear out.
Nina listened to the doomed cowgirl's forlorn moans as the mechanical bull came up to speed, much quicker than it had for her. Each hydraulic whine was met with a wet sliding sound which could only be the dildo doing its work. The Specter wanted to come to the woman's rescue, but prudence demanded that she make sure all of Joey Dakota's men were gone before acting. Besides, like Nina, Mary's moans of pain were also tinged with a surreal pleasure. The stimulation was all the more intense when one realized that it could be her last.
Finally, Nina rolled out of the bar cabinet and peered cautiously around the room. The room was again deserted except for the slim, large-breasted redhead astride the horse. She had been stripped naked except for her cowboy boots and a black leather gloves. She may have once worn a black cowboy hat, but it now lay off to one side. Like Little Feather, she was a striking woman with long flaming hair, hazel eyes, and delicate features. Heavy duct tape covered her mouth and her nostrils flared with the effort required to breathe. Nina was surprised to note that Mary had gotten her arms free, and was clutching desperately at the one-way noose.
Mary's eyes changed from despair to surprise when she saw the Silk Specter move to the controls. Her face was filled with mute relief as Nina tripped the safety, causing the mechanical bull to slide quickly to a stop.
"You ever get the feeling you're under appreciated?" Nina smiled as she reached up a gloved hand and pulled the duct tape off the bound woman's face. With effort, Mary forced a wadded bandanna out of her mouth and spat.
"Only today."
"You got your arms free. I'm impressed."
"Yeah, well I trick up all my leather work for Joey, just in case he ever tries it out on me. Just push it slack, rotate both limbs in the same directions, then twist." She demonstrated as if her arms were once again bound. "Always figured it would come in handy, but I didn't count on this damn noose."
"Never hurts to have a backup plan when your boss is a back-stabbing snake."
"Hmmm. So are you going to get me down, or what?"
"Sure, but I'm going to need a little help in return."
"Help? What kind of help."
"Oh just the usual. How about the location of Joey's bunkhouse?"
"Well I'll be, guess Joey underestimated you. But if you think I'm going to help a vigilante track down Joey Dakota, you're crazy. Why, he'd kill me."
"Would he?" Nina flashed her trademark mysterious smile. "Well, don't think of it as assistance, just consider it a trade." Nina leaned against the control console.
"You wouldn't let me die up here, would you?"
"No. But a few spins on high might do the trick. I've been there and believe me it'll make you feel like talking."
"Ohh, all right. Joey's holed up in a little ghost town--El Nino I think he called it--near the Hicsoc Reservation. He and about 50 Apache Lords, for all the good it'll do you."
"Is that where they're taking the albino buffalo?"
"Of course. Leastwise until the ceremony on the Indian reservation" Mary stopped short, ashamed for divulging information.
"That's okay, " Nina smiled. "I've heard enough."
Nina took the gun from Mary's discarded belt and took careful aim. With a single shot she severed the noose so the loose rope fell to the ground at Mary's feet.
Nina could hear sirens in the distance. Somehow the cops must have been tipped off that there was trouble.
"Better grab your things and high-tail it out of here, Mary."
"You're not going to bust me?"
"No."
Mary cautiously grabbed her clothes and headed for the hall leading out back. But before she left, she turned around a final time.
"Hey Specter. Sorry about that saddle"
But the Silk Specter was gone.
****
The moonless night was absolutely pitch-black 45 miles inland from Oceana, on the boarder between the Chavez ranch and the Hicsoc Indian Reservation. The infrequent cars on the county highway were lightening bugs beneath the inky vault of heaven, their minute patches of illumination far too weak to highlight the moldering ghost town of El Nino only a mile off the road. And on most nights that would be no big loss, but on this particular evening titanic events were unfolding in the forgotten cow town.
"Nice to see you again, Pop." Joey drove a fist hard into the wiry Mexican's stomach. The big Indians holding Pop's arms allowed him to crumble to the ground. His wrists and ankles were chained so he was easier to keep hold of. "Been a long time. I'd a been here sooner, but I had some business to take care of in town."
"What do you want, Joey Dakota?" Pop managed to force out between coughs. The Apache Lords had not been kind to the old poacher since his capture on the highway outside of Oceana.
"You see Pop, it's a coincidence that you happened to be in Oceana. I need a little professional assistance."
"What assistance do you need, Joey? Just kill me and get it over with."
"No, Pop you got me all wrong. Let me show you something." Joey picked up his Coleman lantern and carried it to an expensive-looking horse trailer. He opened the rear door and led out a fantastically odd-looking creature. It was like a buffalo, but its hair was almost translucent, and its skin milky white. The Buffalo's eyes were huge and light blue. The creature lookedunearthly.
"You got the albino buffalo."
"That's right. Tomorrow is the tribal council for the Hicsoc and I need to be able to ride this walking pot roast into the circle--the Claw they call it--and announce myself as Nahoc, legendary war chieftain of the tribe."
"The Hicsoc are a fierce people. They'll never believe you."
"Would people quit saying that!" Joey's .44 appeared in his hand so fast it almost seemed like an optical illusion. "The next person that says 'Joey, you can't pull it off. Joey, you're just too stupid,' I'm just going to shoot all to hell. Now I want you to train that Buffalo to take a rider by tomorrow at sundown. Nothing fancy, just giddiyup and whooaa."
"Teach a buffalo to take a rider?"
"I know it ain't easy, but I hear you're the best at breaking animals. And I'll tell you what, you teach this buf to take a rider, and this time tomorrow you'll be on your way back to Mexico safe and sound. You let me down, and Billy runs a cactus up your ass and skins you alive. Deal?"
Pop said nothing. What choice did he have?
"Alright, that's the spirit! Now boys, set a lantern on every other fence post, give the man a little light. Put a few scouts out towards the road, in case we get any unwanted attention. I'll come out a little later to see you you're doing, Pop."
As the lights were turned up one by one, Pop could see that he was indeed in a corral fenced in with mummified timbers. The integrity of the fence had recently been restored by the Apache Lords. The corral flanked a barn which was remarkably in tact and sheltered a number of new pickup trucks The partially collapsed hotel/saloon across the dirt road from the corral also showed recent signs of activity. Boards had been nailed across the gaping windows and the groaning structure now served as Joey's temporary command post. A line of Harleys parked before the two-story watering hole gave mute testimony to the fact that the old town swarmed with gangsters.
"And boys," Joey handed one of the Lords a bullwhip. "Use this tickler if you think Poncho here is slacking off. Got it?"
Joey made his exit while his henchman promptly put the bullwhip to good use. Pop slipped back to the ground trying in vain to protect himself with his chained hands while the roaring men gleefully strapped him with the long strip of braided leather. The bikers enjoyed their sport, urging the weakened Mexican to his feet only to beat him back down with savage blows. Only when another Apache Lord arrived with a bottle of Yukon Jack did the guards lose interest in tormenting their charge, allowing Pop Sanchez to crawl over to the jittery buffalo.
"Hola, Tatonka," the old man leaned on the animal for support. The ghostly buffalo was not at all disturbed by the arrival of the dusty, bruised man and seemed to listen intently to the strange song Pop sang into its ear. Indeed, both were prisoners in the camp of their enemies and they seemed to borrow strength from each other's presence.
Pop's humming suddenly hitched and the old man looked around. The night was peaceful, and the wind whipped vigorously out to sea as it always did this time of night, but something was wrong. Someone or something else was out there, concealed in the inky darkness beyond the hissing lanterns. And it meant trouble, though for who he couldn't yet determine. He pulled the strange head of the buffalo close and sang it songs of peace in the language only a few living men knew.
The wind carried a muffled moan from the back of the corral--a man being bludgeoned unconscious. But the attacker was good, very good, and the other Apache Lords seemed oblivious to the danger. Then another man fell, closer this time, and perceptible to anyone who was listening. Fortunately, the arrogant Apache Lords were too interested in the whiskey and their own crude humor to notice the defeat of their sentries. Pop stilled the now anxious spirit of the buffalo, preparing her for the imminent onslaught.
Then the mysterious attacker was upon them. The Coleman lanterns were suddenly extinguished in rapid succession by muffled pistol shots and only then did Pop's guards respond. The fighting was fierce but brief, and Pop could only imagine what was happening based on the sounds whirling around him--the thud of body blows, the skittering of booted feet, the shouts of excitement and pain, the whizzing of chains. Then there was a single gunshot, and Pop got a brief still-life image of the corral. He saw a biker frozen in mid-fall, bleeding from the leg as a chain slipped from his hands. Another gun-wielding Apache Lord stood directly behind a small, dark figure almost as if they were making love. But the intruder had managed to clamp the thug's pistol arm between arm and body, firing the huge man's weapon even while it was still in his opponent's meaty grip. In the harsh light of the pistol flash Pop was almost certain that he caught a glint from the stranger's dark clothes and cape. It was almost likesilk.
The sounds and fury of battle receded just as quickly as they had come, to be replaced only by the moan of the wind. Then Pop was suddenly face to face with his rescuer, and he could not have been more surprised. It was not a man but a young woman in a dark, tight-fitting costume, cape and mask! Her body was slim and athletic, and she panted softly from the recent fight. Luxurious black hair billowed down to her shoulder blades. Despite the mask and the furious look in her eyes, the woman's identify was etched upon his memory.
"Neena Blackstone?! What are you doing here?"
"SHHHHH! Saving your ass, Pop." She made quick work of his ancient manacles with a lock pick and handed him a shotgun. "Looks like Joey Dakota did little dance on your face."
"Silk Specter," Pop said slowly, noting the mirror-image Ss on Ninas belt buckle, which formed the stylized outline of a floating ghost. "Youre that vigilante."
"Yeah, but lets just keep that our little secret. Right now we need to get you and this buffalo out of here."
"She is very frightened."
"Ill bet. Can you really ride that buffalo?" The Mexican shook his head.
"She is too simple. I could guide her from her back, but she would never learn from the lessons."
"Thats okay, " Nina grinned. "Just put her back in the trailer. I saw a truck in the barn. Get ready to roll."
The Silk Specter disappeared while Pop Sanchez quickly led the buffalo back in the horse trailer. A moment later, a diesel engine purred to life and Nina whipped out of the barn stopping near the trailer. The Maid of Mystery got out and the two moved the trailer onto the hitch, making ready to travel.
"Now get in the truck and head for the highway!"
"I can't leave you here alone. We go together."
The heroine shook her head.
"We'll never get away if we go together."
"But Nina, they'll kill youor worse."
"I'm a big girl now, Pop. I can take care of myself. Besides I've planned a little surprise."
"No, Roman would never forgive me"
"Pop, Roman's dead. And we will be too if you don't get in that rig and high tail it to town. NOW!"
Pop locked gazes with his former pupil, once a cute strong-willed little girl, now a beautiful young woman in the uniform of a vigilante. Nina's green eyes blazed with confidence and Pop knew he would never talk her into going with him in the truck. Besides, she had just bested 10 men before his very eyes. The silken-clad teenager clearly had strength that belied her petite stature.
Pop reluctantly got into the cab of the pickup truck and slipped it into gear.
"Nina, I won't desert you! Good luck."
"Thanks. I'll need it."
The old poacher popped the clutch and sped off into the night, taking the linchpin of Joey's plan with him.
Just as Nina has suspected, the Apache Lords acted quickly. Even as she raced through the night at top speed, men were running out of the saloon with angry shouts and mounting their bikes. The Maid of Mystery reached her position just as Pop was driving past her, nearing the main road back to town. She smiled as the taillights disappeared in the darkness, giving Pop at least a minute head start on his pursuers. It would never be enough under normal circumstances.
With the truck safely passed, Nina heaved on a heavy chain, which she had secured to an abandoned car on the far side of the road. The Specter could hear the ominous rumble of 2-stroke Harleys as she raised the chain to approximately shoulder level and lashed it several times around a utility pole. She had just gotten the chain secured when the first echelon of riders whipped by.
They never saw what hit them. The chain caught the bikers neatly at chest level, throwing them from their motorcycles onto the dirt road. The second wave of gang members laid over their bikes trying to avoid the first wave, and those skillful enough to navigate the field of iron and bodies found themselves dismounted by the chain as well. Chaos quickly descended on the injured, angry, and disorganized rabble as they realized they had been had. In the meantime, Pop had completely disappeared from view.
"Well, that takes care of that," the Specter giggled. "Better get out of here before they start looking for the end of this"
The Silk Specter turned and her heart leaped up into her throat. Standing directly before her was a tall female silhouette, flanked on either side by shadowy lieutenants. Nina immediately went for her gun, but even as she cleared her holster there was a loud CRACK and a leather lash wrapped painfully around her wrist. The gun flew from her hand was she was jerked toward the silent trio.
"Going so soon," came a cold feminine voice. "But the party is only just beginning, Silk Specter."
"Yeah? Well I"
CRACK! A whip caught her other wrist and both whipsman pulled the masked crime fighter towards them with great force. The Specter managed to twist at the last possible moment to dodge a blow from some type of club aimed right at her midsection. But the swing of the cudgel put one of the whipsmen off balance and Nina seized the small opportunity to snap them into each other like Keystone cops using their own whips. Surprised by the speed at which the Silk Specter seized the initiative, the two fell embarrassingly to the ground, allowing their prey to spring clear.
"I never was much for surprise parties."
Nina swept the feet from underneath the third attacker and used the moment of confusion to withdraw a sleep grenade from her utility belt and detonate it in her enemies' midst. She rolled away from the billowing cloud, but her attackers did not.
"That must have been Mariposa and her friends. Don't know how they sneaked up behind me, but"
Nina's blood ran cold when she heard the rattling noise behind her, a noise similar to the one she had heard while dangling over Joey's pit of snakes. Only this was a single rattle, and much BIGGER than any she had heard before. The nightmare sound struck Nina to her soul and stopped her for a moment dead in her tracks.
But the Silk Specter had only a moment to ponder her unnatural peril. The teenage dynamo saw the blur like a huge snakes head, then fangs sank into the flesh of her thigh. Her left leg exploded in pain and then burned as venom seeped into her body through the finger-sized puncture wounds. The head disappeared into the inky night as quickly as it had struck, leaving the dazed superheroine to wonder if she had only dreamed the entire incident.
The Specter tried to take a step forward but collapsed to the ground in pain. Her leg simply wouldn't take any weight. The masked vigilante tried to stand up again but her vision was blurring and her limbs uncoordinated. The burning sensation which had started at her thigh was spreading upward across her pelvis. She rolled to her back and felt for the snake antidote injector in her utility belt, knowing it may be her only chance for survival. She was beginning to shake uncontrollably.
But someone was drawing near, the Silk Specter looked up to see the silhouette looming over her, framed against the starry night. If the inhuman apparition chose to strike a killing blow there was nothing Nina could do to stop it, so she ignored her deadly foe, withdrew the injector and administered the shot. It took all of her fading strength to complete the task and after emptying the plastic container the teenage avenger went limp on the hard ground.
"Very impressive," the woman hissed--presumably Mariposa, priestess of the Hicsoc. "You humiliated Billy Bare, outsmarted Joey Dakota, stole back the sacred buffalo and laid out half the Apache Lords. Now it seems you may have cheated death again."
Nina tried to talk but she was too weak. Her mouth felt as dry as the desert sand on which she laid.
"But very soon you'll wish you hadn't. I think you'd find death by snakebite far more honorable than the death I have planned for you. Pleasant dreams, Silk Specter"
Mariposa's wicked laughs echoed through Nina's mind as at last the Maid of Mystery slipped off into peaceful oblivion. Her last thoughts were of Pop Sanchez and his promise not to leave her.
To Be Continued