Scarlet Starlight
Chapter 7: Cat Burglary
[Author's Note: Wonder Woman and related characters are copyright DC. Batman characters are also copyright DC. Thundercats characters and story elements are copyright Rankin-Bass.]
Chapter 7: Cat Burglary
Felicia was bored. Jessica and Carol were somewhere in southern California, taking care of some business and spending quality time with their friends in the spin-off group of former X-Men that had formed during the Superhuman Civil War, so they weren't available for fun. Peter and MJ / Sonja, or "Red" as Felicia had begun calling the combined pair, were spending some much-needed alone time getting their relationship back on track, taking basically a second honeymoon to celebrate and kickstart their newly-resumed life together. No one, not even Felicia --no, especially not Felicia-- had been allowed to know where Thor had sent them on their vacation, so she couldn't pop in on them even if she tried. Jessica had confirmed that Peter was still officially an Avenger, and in fact she'd gotten him an Initiative license so that he and Sonja could patrol New York together with the full authorization of law behind them, so Felicia knew she'd be seeing them again soon. But for now it was just her and Tigra remaining of their play-group, and that had led to Felicia's current state of bored and restless.
And with felines, especially ones like Felicia and Tigra, boredom led to mischief, and mischief led to trouble.
It had started with them talking about, and then attempting to, bring their teammate Barbara Gordon into the sexual side of their friendship. The former Batgirl turned Hellcat was wise to feline ways, and knew well that the best way to dissuade a cat from something they wanted was to distract them with something else. Thus, the subject came up of expanding their little feline-themed group of heroines, and they then became engrossed in the process of going through files looking for good candidates. Unfortunately the pickings seemed rather slim, there weren't a whole lot of feline themed superhumans to begin with and once you subtracted the villains and the ones they already had as members the numbers got fewer still. After close to an hour of searching, the best they could come up with as prospects were two rather unlikely candidates. One was the new White Tiger, but she was already working with Colleen and Misty's "Heroes for Hire" group and was pretty much happy there. She wasn't even sure about sticking to the White Tiger identity, and certainly wasn't attached to the gimmick of felinity enough to want to join a group based around it. That left Selina Kyle, the cat burglar turned part time vigilante from Barbara's hometown of Gotham City known as the Catwoman. At first Felicia was resistant, saying the cat burglar gone good thing was her shtick, but Barbara was insistent that she was unique enough to bring something different to the group and assured her and Tigra both that she was very good at what she did. When they remained skeptical, Barbara laid out the plan for getting the Catwoman's attention, and then showed them pictures of the woman in costume.
Perhaps it was the woman's clear sex appeal, perhaps it was the prospect of playing a dangerous game to lure her into a meeting, most likely it was both. But regardless, as skeptical as they both were that it would work out they agreed to do it if for no other reason than simply to have something interesting to do.
-----
Many miles away from the feline trio's starting point or their destination, a dangerous game of a different sort was being played in the nation's capital by a strawberry blonde woman with the look and build of a female wrestler. Unfortunately, as tough as she looked she was quite a bit tougher still in action, and people ran in panic from her as she threw cars, did mass property damage, and in general went on a rampage. There were no fatalities known as yet, and the injury toll was minimal as she seemed to be seeking to draw attention to herself by smashing things up and seeking to frighten people rather than directly hurt them, but with the kind of damage she was doing and the force being unleashed, it was only a matter of time before something bad happened. She'd proven to be impervious to the small arms fire that police and SWAT units had brought to bear, and soon after engagement they too were forced to flee from the rampaging powerhouse of a woman that called herself Titania.
She made sure everyone knew who she was, too, shouting out her name and a challenge to an enemy, calling her out to meet her in battle.
"SHE-HULK! Come and FIGHT ME, you COWARD!" and variations on that theme, especially whenever a camera was on her. In other words, not only did she look like a wrestler, she acted like one as well. If there weren't real lives at risk and real property damage being done, it could pass as a promotional spot for an upcoming pay-per-view.
Unfortunately it was all too real, and the She-Hulk was nowhere in sight to meet her challenge. However, there were others in the area who could respond, and regardless of Titania's preferences they were ready and willing to put an end to her threats in the place of the absent green heroine. It might not be the fight she wanted, but a fight Titania was certainly going to get.
-----
The plan seemed simple enough. Go to Gotham, wait for nightfall, and steal an artifact called the Black Bast from the local museum. Selina was known to have a particular fondness for that unique piece, which was a spectacular sitting cat statuette carved from pure black onyx and adorned with emerald eyes and gold trim pieces and inlays and a "collar" of gold with numerous small semiprecious stones inset around a large central amethyst. It was believed to originate in ancient Egypt, though it's precise history wasn't fully known. It was, however, more than valuable enough to be considered a priceless museum piece, and it was also literally priceless as it was too famous and unique to be able to sell. Only a certain sort of collector would have a desire for such a thing and the means to acquire it, making it almost impossible to monetize. That didn't matter to Selina Kyle, the Catwoman. Her relationship to the piece dated back years, almost to the very beginnings of her career as a thief. Over those years, she'd stolen it countless times, only for it to find it's way back where it came from sooner or later. Often, she had arranged to see it returned or even physically returned it herself, so that she might be able to steal it again. When she was new, she'd wished so long and so hard for it, and had worked so hard to get it, that when she finally did she felt the emptiness of a conquest completed. Thus, she'd started the little game she still played, stealing it, keeping it for a while, and then giving it back to do it all over again.
Someone else stealing "her" Bast statue would certainly get her attention.
-----
Mary McPherran, the superhuman criminal known as Titania, was getting seriously pissed off. She'd been at this for seemed like an hour, and that green bitch hadn't shown up yet. She'd wrecked at least a dozen cars and a good couple blocks, and chased off some cops who thought shooting at her was somehow a good idea, but still no She-Hulk. She was sure the word was out, hell she'd shouted into enough news cameras by now. Maybe she thought if she just left her alone, she'd wear herself out smashing cars and buildings and go home? Ha, she'd show her different real quick. If she wouldn't come out to being called out, maybe a stronger threat would do the job.
Spotting one of those news crews, she headed towards one. They acted like newsies always did, cowering away but not up and running, and keeping the cameras rolling until the last minute. She swore, one of the job qualifications must be having a deathwish. Still, it worked for what she wanted to do. She got within speaking distance, and stpped, holding up her hands in a non-threatening way.
"Hey, relax, I ain't gonna hurt ya. You want an interview, I'll give ya one." One you'll never forget, she thought...
And sure enough, the dumb bitch took the bait. Skinny little pretty thing, like all the cheerleader types that had made her life hell growing up. She wanted to break her in half and spit in her twitching little model face on the ground. She wasn't a cold-blood killer, though, but that wishful thought of what she could do to a bitch like her made the next part, of acting like she'd do it, easier.
She grabbed the pretty little thing as soon as she got close, and pulled her into the camera shot, and shouted. "HEY, She-Bitch! You had BETTER show up now or I'm gonna break this pretty little barbie doll twat like the toothpick she is! You hear me?! Make it quick, I'm runnin' outta patience! Show up and fight me or else the news cunt gets it!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Let her go, she's done nothing to you."
Mary spun at the sound of the new voice, hoping against hope it was that green bitch finally come to get what she deserved. Instead, she saw someone entirely new to her. Black and silver outfit, kinda like a Xena dress with silver armor pieces, and a little short sword on her side. Black hair, blue eyes, really really pretty, and big too, bitch clearly worked out and was probably tall as her too. What got her though was the silver tiara, which just made her laugh. Who the hell did this chick think she is?
"Who the hell are you, lady? You look like a cross between Xena and Sailor fuckin' Moon."
The woman didn't seem affected by her harsh words, responding calmly. "Perhaps that's appropriate, as both are based on me to some degree. I am Diana."
Mary blinked. "Diana? The hell kinda name is that? Are ya here to fight me or are ya inviting me out for coffee?"
The woman remained infuriatingly calm, and gave a slight smile. "I can, if you like. You haven't hurt anyone yet, your crimes are still minor. Let the woman go, and we can go talk about what's bothering you."
Mary was incredulous. What the hell was this chick's deal? Still, she tossed the news twat back into her little crew, knocking down some of them and making Mary grin. She faced down with the new bitch on the scene, and took a fighting stance. "Talk? What, is this Oprah? Don't waste my time. I'm itchin' for a fight, so give me one or get outta my way."
The Xena wannabe neither attacked ner nor took off, annoying Mary that much more as she just stood there all calm and arrogant. Hell, back to threatening the newsies. Maybe that would get her some results.
This time they responded in appropriate fear, cowering and trying in vain to pull back but she had them pinned between her and their van. One of them said something about that being "the Wonder Woman" and that she was in trouble. She told him that she didn't care if she was the Wonder Bread delivery man, and raised her fist to smash his stupid little fat face in, but she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"It doesn't have to be this way, sister, le--UHNNN!"
Mary spun with a full force punch that connected satisfyingly with the jaw of the annoying woman, and though her head didn't go squish she still flew like a home run smash, actually going through the wall of a storefront with a satisfying sound of impact and the dust and debris of destruction. Man, she loved this gig some days. The fact that she'd gone through a wall instead of going smush proved she was a super of some sort, but she still didn't know who the hell she was. That had been happening a lot lately, new supers showing up out of the damned woodwork. The crowds and the media all acted as if they knew exactly who they were, but Mary had never seen them before. It was confusing. Still, this one can't have been as good as the news nerd hoped, and she turned back to finish the job of smashing his face when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"That will be enough of that."
Titania growled, and spun with another punch, intent on finishing her this time. It wouldn't be that easy a second time, as Diana was ready for her and not playing nice anymore. She caught her fist, and spun her into an over the shoulder throw with strength that clearly rivaled her own. It was her turn to careen through walls and fall amid the dust and debris of destruction.
Diana, the Wonder Woman floated up from the ground, prepared to go and investigate to see if the madwoman was down for the count or not. She doubted it, given the force of that punch, and she wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. She could throw a punch, but beyond that had displayed little skill. It was almost depressing, how a woman with her obvious physical gifts could so neglect her training. Didn't these people have any pride in themselves?
She was proven correct when the self-professed "Titania" burst through the wall she'd been propelled through with a roar of rage and some vague threat or another that she was too angry to articulate clearly. She ran at her in a blind bull rush, and Diana took her ready stance, face set and grim as she waited for the proper moment to move and strike.
With precise, split second timing and perfect accuracy, her blade sang from it's sheath and sliced the air in a flashing arc, intercepting the woman at the perfect point of apex and traveling through it's arc as the woman stumbled to a halt on the other side of her. Diana calmly wiped the blade clean as it slid back into it's sheath, and turned to face her enemy who was only now processing what had happened.
"The hell...?" she said, trying to hold her outfit together along the horizontal slice line she had inflicted. "First you ask me out, then you try to strip me? You wanna see my tits that bad, 'sister', you haveta ask nice. Otherwise, yer wastin' your time, you can't cut me. I'm too tough for your little pig-sticker."
Diana sighed, as this woman depressingly displayed that she lacked the mind or the personality to match her admittedly impressive body, and simply pointed out to her. "Look again... I can and did cut you, and the only reason it wasn't deeper is that I pulled my strike to slide across your belly instead of biting deeply and spilling your bowels onto the ground. Call it a warning."
Titania blinked, and looked down as she pulled her arm away, indeed coated in blood. She wasn't bleeding badly, but she was bleeding. Bitch had cut her! She'd really cut her! It had been so long since anything had, and it gave her a thrill of fear run up her spine. Maybe she could do exactly what she said. As far as she knew it was her skin that was impregnable, not her insides, and she'd cut straight through her skin. Most heroes wouldn't carry through on a threat like that, but most of them didn't carry swords either. Xena didn't hold back about cutting her enemies to bloody ribbons, maybe this chick didn't either. It wasn't worth taking the chance to get close to her again.
There were other ways she could attack though, and stay out of the range of that short little blade. She ripped a service mailbox out of the ground, good heavy steel a good several hundred pounds worth, but it was like cardboard to her and she could throw it as easily as she had the cars earlier. It would make an excellent projectile. She looked forward to seeing the smirk wiped off the woman's pretty face as the heavy blue bolted steel struck her, and she even thought of a witty line as she reared back to throw.
"Special delivery, bitch!"
It never reached it's target. In fact, she wasn't even able to finish her throwing motion before it was ripped from her hands to bounce and skid to a halt behind her. She looked at it in shock, and saw a huge silver arrow the size of a javelin punched straight through the heavy steel as if it were paper mache. Turning back, she saw her foe stood a few inches above the ground, floating there still in shooting pose, a gleaming silver bow in her hands that seemed to have come from nowhere. To her dismay, she found herself staring down the point of another one of those silver arrows, the woman's eyes narrowed in deadly aim down the gleaming shaft.
Mary wasn't the sharpest hammer in the box, but she wasn't stupid. If that arrow had punched through heavy steel, and the sword that went with the set had cut her so easily, she had no confidence that arrow couldn't punch through her head or chest just as easily. She'd already warned her about a kill strike, and Mary wasn't going to take the chance. Getting knocked around was one thing, getting cut to chunks or speared through wasn't her idea of a good time at all. Still, she tried to look brave.
"You're bluffing! Heroes don't kill." She hoped like hell she was right.
Diana didn't waver. "You're right, I won't kill you. I don't have to. The Arrows of Artemis never miss, and I can very easily pin your arm to the wall and come up on you and hamstring you before you can pull yourself free. You won't die, but you also won't be going anywhere for the year or more of surgery and physical therapy it takes to fully recover from an injury like that. You can't escape to rampage again when you can't walk."
"Ha! You don't scare me!" she shouted out as she grabbed and ripped a lamppost from the street and brandished it like a weapon. This time it was she that was bluffing, though, as she threw it at the woman with all her strength and then turned to run. To hell with this, she was getting the hell out of there. She only hoped that the thrown lamppost would buy her enough time to get away.
Diana sighed, and allowed the Moonshield she had manifested on her left arm, the gift of Athena on her right vambrace, to return to whence it had been summoned from to knock away the thrown streetlight. As she summed the Moonbow once more from her right --the gift of Artemis herself-- she lined up her shot as the woman's figure retreated into the distance. She hated to shoot in the back, but this was no longer a fight, it was a hunt. And the virgin Goddess of Hunt who had gifted her bow knew well how to shoot down fleeing prey. She could do this, pin her down without killing her. Her timing and aim need be perfect, but she had no doubt in her abilities.
Instead, she growled in frustration as she was interrupted by a priority call on her JLA communicator. Gods damn it!
She allowed her bow to fade back into moonmist and answered the call instead of shooting her down. The woman was badly spooked, with luck she wouldn't make more trouble anytime soon. Still, it had bothered her that she didn't know who she was, nor had the villainess recognized her. It had been like that a lot ever since the Second Crisis, where her world, or parts of it at least, had been merged with this one in a last-ditch effort to save it after they'd stopped Alexander Luthor's mad plan to make a perfect world by merging together Earths from across the multiverse, picking the parts he wanted to keep and cruelly discarding the rest. Untold billions had died or been rendered nonexistant before they'd stopped him. Her world had taken so much damage in the chaos and war that had been unleashed, it seemed like there wasn't much left to save. And when they finally stopped Luthor's mad machine, yet another Earth had already been summoned, ready for yet another process of selective merging. Once the safeguards that protected the process faded, the two planets in close proximity would tear one another apart. One of them had to go.
In the end, it was her world that was chosen to end. It was so damaged, barely more than an unstable patchwork of bits and pieces from numerous similar realities... there was no choice but to salvage all they could by merging it with the pristine Earth that was in the second partition of the process. Like so many others, it was there simply to have things that Alexander wanted torn from it, fused onto their world and then discarded like all the rest, but that hadn't happened yet when they stopped him. It was whole and undamaged, and it was the best hope of survival for all those who had survived the war to that point. So, like an ark of salvation, they took refuge on it and said goodbye to the planet they had known all their lives.
Since then, life had gotten significantly more confusing for everyone involved. They had been integrated into their new world's history to at least some degree, so to the average person they had always been there and places like Gotham and Metropolis and Keystone and Star had always been on the maps they knew. But those who had fought in the Crisis still had their old memories, and the rest of the superhuman population seemed to be less effected by the imposition of the new history as well. Thus, neither world's superhumans were truly known to one another, and they'd had to learn about one another as they went. Worse, some of their own histories had been altered, some a result of the machinations of Luthor seeking and finding the "best" versions of heroes and villains he wanted, others a result of being woven into this world and universe's timeline and basic structure. None of them could be sure what their old memories had fully been nor what had been changed from what was before the Crisis had begun. It had been that way in the first Crisis as well, with heroes and villains changed wholesale to go along with the new timeline on the new Earth that had emerged when all was said and done. They had some records of what was in each case, but they were incomplete and more importantly, they hadn't lived those memories anymore. In some ways it was the worst of both worlds, what with being modified to some degree and yet not enough to be truly at home on this new world. A full integration would have been crueler to the people they'd been, but it would be easier to deal with now. Instead, they were an awkward fusion of both.
This remembrance and contemplation of the recent past had taken but moments as the thoughts and memories raced through her mind, but it was long enough to annoy Hawkman, the voice on the other end of the communicator as he repeated himself.
"Diana, are you there? Respond!"
She sighed. "Diana here. What's the situation?"
"We have multiple sightings of the Cheetah in your area. I'm en route, been on her trail but unable to catch up with her. Hopefully between the two of us we can track her down."
Diana confirmed and closed the channel. The Cheetah... well at least that was something familiar.
-----
Gotham City was supposedly "terra nullius" to other heroes, a no-man's-land declared by the area's legally recognized "urban defender" who had demanded non-interference by outsiders inside his jurisdiction. The Gotham Urban Defender, or GUD program, predated the Superhuman Registration Act and it's attendant programs by nearly a decade, having been adopted by the city council at the insistence of it's Police Commissioner and provided powers legally similar to those of a Sheriff. He could make legal arrests, conduct investigations, use necessary force, and even deputize others to act beneath him, and he could claim legal jurisdiction to keep outside heroes out. Which would quite the problem if they planned to ask permission, or to get caught. Felicia and Barbara planned to do nothing of the sort.
The plan was rather simple, actually. Tigra would check out a stealth Quinjet, drop them into position, and Felicia would pull off the robbery while Barbara kept watch and handled the security systems. Afterwards, Tigra would extract them and they'd fly the hell out of there. Then, Barbara would arrange for Selina to be informed of the whereabouts of her favorite onyx goodie, and the rest would take care of itself. It was virtually foolproof.
It had gone without a hitch, too, right until the point that HE had shown up.
-----
It had taken the rest of the day and into the night to finally catch up with the Cheetah. Or, at least, the evening, as Titania's attack had taken place in the late afternoon, but it had still been daylight at the time. The sun was long gone and the moon ruled the darkened sky some hours later, when they finally engaged their quarry. Merely trying to chase her down had proven impossible, she was too fast and was long gone from a place by the time they got there in her wake. With a little detective work, though, they'd figured out what she was after and were able to find it before she was.
That had brought them to the Smithsonian, where an artifact called the "Sword of Oracles" was on display. There was no telling why the Cheetah wanted it, and it was quite the bizarre artifact. Recovered from a dig in Egypt, the thing consisted of a hollowed and taxidermied lion's paw gripping a disc in it's claws of some form of red and black marble-like material that depicted a snake figure, with a dagger with a slit-pupiled eye gem embedded in the hilt stabbed through the disc and into a chunk of black stone. A priceless artifact to be sure and certainly a unique if deeply bizarre art piece, but the practical use of such a thing eluded Diana. She could sense no magic in it, nor did it seem functional as an actual weapon. Magic could at times be hidden, though, and sometimes things could have functions in spells without being enchanted in and of themselves. One thing was certain, Cheetah was an archeologist in her mortal identity of Barbara Minerva, and so it was entirely likely that she knew far more about the object than Diana did. Given how dangerous she was, whatever use she had for it was something Diana would just as soon see never come to fruition.
And so, Diana was posted inside while Hawkman was hidden and standing by in the rafters, waiting to swoop down on Minerva when she showed up. From interviewing the people who had encountered the Cheetah, she didn't know where the item was as she was searching places and interrogating people about it, but it was only a matter of time before she found it here and they would be ready for her.
It was nearly midnight, the moon high in the sky and the museum long closed when their quarry finally presented herself. Suddenly, and without warning the woman blurred up to the display case in a golden streak, and simply shattered the glass. She ran almost like the Flash, Diana realized with a gasp, that had never been one of her powers before despite her namesake. She looked different, too, long spotted blonde hair and facial markings, and a leotard outfit with leather boots and a red circular insignia on her chest with a roaring cat's head in black. She just didn't look like the Minerva Cheetah that Diana knew, though the woman's form had fluctuated before. When she'd first begun fighting her, she barely had any feline aspects at all, simply enhanced abilities and a spotted costume, and later a fully catwoman form complete with spots, fur, claws, a tail, and an attitude to match the set. This seemed like somewhere between the two, less extreme cat features but not fully human either. Diana didn't get it, but she could sort out the details later. For now, it was only important they stop her.
Diana moved from her hidden position to behind her, between her and the exit, floating along the ground in order to make no sound and making sure the air conditioning was blowing against her and not at her back. As she got into position, and summoned her bow, the Cheetah put her left hand into the hollowed lion's paw, and gripped the dagger's hilt in her right hand and pulled it free. This shocked Diana, Minerva was an archeologist, how could she destroy an artifact that way??? It had been dug from the desert that way, surely it was meant to be as it was? Regardless, the Cheetah only seemed to want the dagger and lion's paw, not the rest of it, and Diana had no intention of letting her get away with either.
She had not yet noticed Diana, concerned with some strange action involving putting the dagger to her forehead and staring through it into the moon, perhaps she was examining it somehow? Maybe the gemstone in the center was a map to something else? Again, she could sort the details later. It was time to put this to an end.
"There are serious consequences for destroying art, Cheetah. Put it back how it was and surrender, and we'll see about reducing your charges if you haven't done too much damage."
The Cheetah whirled with a gasp, then took a defensive stance, brandishing the dagger and clawed paw. "Stand aside... I mean to leave this place, don't make me harm you."
Diana was stunned. Diana and the Cheetah had been enemies for years, and now not only did she look different she was acting as if she didn't recognize her at all. Had whatever happened to her that changed her appearance affected her memory as well, or could this somehow be a different Cheetah entirely? Another mystery to be sorted out after they'd apprehended her.
"You know I can't do that... put back what you've stolen and surrender. Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be." That's it, Diana thought, keep her talking. Hawkman would surely be in position any moment now and they could make this easy.
Sure enough, she saw the shadow of his wings, swooping down in a perfect dive, swift and silent. With her attention locked on Diana, she'd never see it coming.
When the pair came to a stop, the feline woman was on top with that clawed paw at his throat. She was good, Diana had to admit that, but in coming up on top and rearing back Diana had her shot. Aiming to pin her, Diana drew and fired, before the Cheetah could take advantage of her momentarily helpless foe. The arrow flew, straight and true as her arrows always did, and her aim was perfect. This was as good as over.
It was not to be that easy. To her shock, the woman actually deflected her arrow with the beclawed lion's paw, the arrow thunking against it and it's tip shattering and deforming as it fell harmlessly aside. That was impossible! No substance worked by ancient man could be strong enough to stop her arrows. Suddenly, Diana realized that the items must be magical after all, despite her earlier inability to sense any. Worse, she hadn't let Hawkman get an opening to counterattack her even as she moved her clawed paw weapon from his throat, moving the dagger with the other hand to put that blade at his throat instead and keep him pinned down. This wasn't going to be easy after all.
As Diana moved to keep her covered and herself between the Cheetah and the exit, the woman glanced down at Hawkman with a sudden growl. "Die another day, Thanagar scum!" she cried out with a roar in her voice, and Hawkman roared in pain as her dagger sliced along his chest. Enraged, Diana fired again only to have it deflected once more, and then the Cheetah was flipping them both into a new set of rolls, whose purpose became suddenly and dismayingly clear when Hawkman's wounded body was thrown into hers, knocking them both down in a tangle. This Cheetah seemed to have traded some of her former strength for speed, as she'd used the momentum of the rolling motion to throw him rather than simply toss him with sheer brute force, but the effect was the same. The moment's incapacitation of her foes was all the opening she needed to make her escape, racing away in a golden glowing blur.
Diana was sure she could track her, she wasn't gifted by the Goddess of Hunt for nothing, but first things first. Detangling from Hawkman, she checked his injury first. He was wincing in pain, pressing his hand to his wounded chest, and growled out. "Thunderan %#&@!, I can't fly!" That curse he spat was literally untranslatable, a mixture of a word and a hawk sound unable to be imitated by a human throat, but Diana could surely guess the general meaning. And to her dismay she discovered he was right, the dagger wound sliced deep into his pectoral muscle, rendering him unable to operate the wing on that side. Diana realized instantly the strategy behind such a move, she could have easily killed him but she didn't. Instead, she disabled him and thus slowed Diana down in caring for her wounded and hobbled comrade. It was a long known military strategy, kill a foe and remove one enemy from the fight, wound a foe and remove two or more as the wounded must be cared for.
Fortunately, the Hall of Justice was nearby and the facility there could care for his wound. She would lose time, but there was naught to be done about it but be as quick as she could and then pick up the trail.
-----
The first part of the operation had gone smoothly enough, with Barbara making short and easy work of the alarms and setting up a surveillance perimeter that should easily alert her of any approach. Felicia had proven as good as her word and her reputation, easily slipping through the interior security and defenses and getting the target item with flair and ease. When she returned, she was practically glowing with satisfaction, remarking about how it had been too long since she'd indulged that part of her skillset. Barbara had to admit, she was damned good, probably coming close to rivaling Selina in skill. No small feat indeed, and she was just in the process of complimenting her on it when the platinum-haired stunner had paused and actually hissed. The hell? Then with a sinking feeling she realized that Felicia wasn't looking at her, but behind her.
"Yes, excellent work. Now put it back."
-----
Diana had gotten Hawkman to the Hall of Justice with no further trouble, the Cheetah --if she was indeed the Cheetah and not someone else entirely-- hadn't been interested in attacking them further and was instead intent on putting miles behind her as quickly as possible. Hawkman was furious that he couldn't pursue her, and kept muttering insults about her using that word Thunderan he'd said before, but there was no time to get an explanation of what that meant. She quickly got him delivered to their outpost facility inside the combined JLA museum / tourist attraction and official headquarters, and from there he was transferred by teleporter to the Watchtower satellite high in orbit above which was their true base of operations. The medical facilities there could surely handle his wound, and she could pursue the Cheetah.
She'd quickly picked up the woman's trail thereafter, and the hunt was on.
-----
Barbara new who she was going to see even before he spoke, much less before she saw him. No one else she knew of could sneak up on her that way, and inwardly, she cursed herself. She'd thought her countermeasures would be good enough even for him, but clearly she'd been wrong. And now they were in serious trouble.
"Felicia... run. Do it now."
Felicia protested, of course, but the growl in her voice and hard set of her eyes convinced Felicia to do as she was told, and she stepped off the side of the museum building and vanished quickly. She then turned back to face him. The Batman. The one man in all of Gotham they'd hoped to avoid.
"What were you thinking? Of all the items in this city, you chose the one I'm most likely to have under constant surveillance."
Barbara cursed herself softly. She'd checked for exactly that, but clearly his technology was better than it had been back when she worked with him last. The way he addressed her, telling her how she'd been caught... he recognized her. His tone was the disappointed teacher, the taskmastering sensei pointing out her mistake before ordering her to do it again. It made her angry, feeling like he was condescending her, and that made it easier for her to ignore the thrill of fear running up her spine and face up at him with defiance in her eyes.
"You've gotten better since last we met, Bruce. But so have I."
With that, she struck, a feint of course, disguising her true strike behind two layers of misdirection before zeroing in swift and sure on her true target, seeking to penetrate his defenses and end this quickly. If she could just get one good shot in, she could slow him down enough to make good her escape.
She'd hoped but didn't expect it to be that easy, and it wasn't. Despite her speed and precision, despite her well-chosen attack strategy, her strike had thunked uselessly against his block, and he stepped back and into stance. The chess match had begun.
-----
Diana had indeed picked up the feline woman's trail, and was making good time in pursuing her, but even with all her speed in flight she couldn't gain on her. By all the gods, she was fast! By now she'd covered miles uncounted, having left the city and then crossing state lines some time ago, and still no sign of slowing from her quarry. In fact, once she got into open country the woman had seemed to only grow faster still, and now they were covering ground at speeds no commercial airliner could match. Her eventual destination was anyone's guess, but for now she was more or less heading due west. That set course made tracking her a little swifter, and Diana felt like she was gaining some ground at last, but she still had quite a head start and was moving at amazing speeds. At this rate, it could well be dawn before she caught her again.
She was a daughter of Artemis, though, she would not tire in the hunt. When it was over, however... well wine and a long soak in a hot tub would be but the first of the relaxing rewards she promised herself she would indulge in when it was all over.
-----
Barbara Gordon was not the same as she'd been when she was the Batgirl. Then, she'd used equipment and gimmick weapons and basic body armor, combined with her skill, to give her an edge on Gotham's typically unskilled criminal element. Since she'd gotten back in the game, she'd gotten a hell of a lot better. With her new battlesuit, she was more than a match for even groups of normal men, stronger and faster and tougher than any human alive, even a masterful specimen like Bruce Wayne. Like the jungle cat the original suit had been designed to confer the abilities of, she was far beyond human maximums.
Clearly, she wasn't the only one who'd received an upgrade.
As she fought him, she was able to get a good look at him and her suit's sensors had flooded her heads-up display with information. His black with blue suit was no longer just passive protection, it was powered armor. A mixture of thick but flexible composite underlayer with a network of light but strong overlocking metal plates of some form of alloy, it clearly increased his strength and across the board physical prowess to superhuman levels. A full faceplate with blue LED lighted eyes had snapped down over his more familiar half-cowl once the fight had begun, and his once-iconic cape had on this new suit been replaced with hard wings of similar alloy construction to his armor plating. Surely knowing him the suit was loaded with gadgets and sensors and weapons, much like hers was, so between the paired set of upgrades it was like being back to square one against him. And all other things being equal, he had always been better than she was.
Knowing this, and calculating how much time it would take for Felicia to get back to the plane and fudging that by long enough to be sure she'd had plenty of time, she decided that discretion was the better part of valor and littered the rooftop beneath their feet with dozens of flashbang bomblets the size of BBs and then slipped away in the resulting sound and fury.
Alas, it was not to be. She'd gotten several buildings away and thought she'd made it away clean when she saw in her rear camera a dismaying sight. A blue trail of thrust was arcing through the air in a ballistic trajectory that would surely intercept her. Great. Now he could fucking fly. As if this hadn't been difficult enough.
Adjusting her strategy, she headed for what she knew to be a long-abandoned building, unconnected to others and unused by squatter and criminal alike. It had once been a printing press, for one of the city's once-several major newspapers long since shut down in the consolidation in the business that had followed Gotham's decline in the post-WWII years. The fifties and sixties hadn't been kind to Gotham, and by the seventies and eighties it had found itself in Detroit-like collapse. Since then it had gotten a little better, in large part thanks to the efforts of Bruce Wayne and Batman both, but the prosperity of the boom years had never returned. And with the rise of digital media, even if it did a newspaper facility like this would never be utilized again. It would cost more to dismantle and dispose of the multi-hundred-ton printing equipment than the property was worth. The attached paper storage sub-warehouse was perfect for her plan, though, and given the property's dismal future prospects she was less than completely guilty over what she planned to do to it.
Ducking inside, she first confirmed that it was indeed abandoned, with rats and other vermin the only living occupants. Firing multiple timed phosporous charges around, she then fired up her arc flamer. They didn't call her Hellcat for nothing.
The arc flamer was something she was particularly proud of. Based on a Wayne design for a turbine that used Tesla principles of air fluidity and electrical seperation of gases, it was able to seperate hydrogen from atmosphere and then use it as combustion fuel with no other input but pure electricity. Where his was designed to produce thrust, hers was a perfect flamethrower. And combined with the phosphorous charges and the long-dried stores of decades old paper, the place went up like a hearth in Hell.
Her systems could also extract oxygen from heated air even when laden with smoke, and keep her cool inside her fireproof suit, so she was able to sneak out of the roaring inferno no worse for the experience. He may have been able to trail her there, but surely he'd have lost her in that mess. Moving quick and quiet, she made her way back towards where the plane awaited her, pausing on a distant rooftop to admire her hellish handiwork. The flames from the paper augmented by secondary explosions from ink and chemicals arcing into the sky, it certainly was a hell of a pyro display.
"Impressive. I certainly hope the owner has paid the insurance."
No. It couldn't be! And yet there he was. Appearing behind her from nowhere like his last name was Voorhees.
She spun in stance again, ready to engage him again, but she saw his faceplate was up and his frown was soft instead of grimly set for battle.
"Why, Barbara? Tell me there's an explanation."
She sighed. "There is. Cut me some slack and I promise I'll send you everything in an email and I'll personally make sure the statue ends up back where it belongs."
He paused, actually considering it, but he never got to reply as before he did concussive bolts of blazing blue knocked him back and away as they struck the ground in between her and him, catching him in the resulting waves of force.
"Barb, come on!"
It was Felicia, calling out from the open hatchway of the hovering Quinjet, it's underbelly repulsor cannon still deployed and ready to fire again if need be to cover her escape. After but a moment's regretful hesitation, she fired a line up and into the compartment of the plane and pulled herself up even as Tigra began their ascent. She fired another repulsor volley to keep him down and off-balance, and then as soon as Barbara was inside and the hatch closed, she increased their speed.
As she and Felicia got themselves into the accelleration chairs, Barbara looked in the rearview screen and saw the batwinged figure rise up from the rooftop in futile pursuit. There was little chance that he could match speed with them, and then Tigra removed all doubt when she punched it. As the speed poured on and they arced up through the atmosphere, the chances of him catching up even if he summoned the Batwing to him were nil. They had entirely too much of a head start, and besides there was little if anything on earth that could match a Quinjet in speed. As they breached the atmosphere to cruise in low orbit, she was sure now they were home free. At the speeds they were doing, they'd make the transcontinental flight in mere hours and be home before dawn.
-----
Diana had indeed been after her quarry through the night, and it had been quite the journey. They had traveled near the full coast to coast expanse of the United States, her quarry averaging an impressive mean speed of around Mach 1, overland! None she knew but the Flash could achieve such a feat, and certainly not the Cheetah she had known. She was increasingly convinced that this woman wasn't the Cheetah she knew at all, perhaps someone native to this world that she didn't know. As they'd began to run out of land, Diana was able to narrow down her destination, and call for backup to be in the area. Soon, it became clear that the only major population center remaining on her course was San Fransisco.
Soon enough, she was proven right as they reached that coastal city, and her quarry altered course to find a specific place within that urban area. She stopped short with a gasp as she recognized where the trail ended, and doublechecked twice more to make sure. She didn't want to believe it, but she was sure.
Avengers Mansion West.
She was going to need that backup.
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