Blue Angel

Chapter One – Blue Angel Meets the Spyder

Intro

From a very young age, I knew I was different than the other kids. It all started in first grade when three third graders started picking on me during recess and I beat up all three of them. The punches I threw actually hurt them! Of course, being only six years old, I didn’t know much about fighting so I ended it by kicking them ‘where it counts.’ The bullies left me alone after that.

As I grew, so did my strength. When we started weight lifting in Junior High, not only did I break the school bench press record but I also beat the High School record! It was also in Junior High that my other abilities began developing. I actually started hearing other people’s thoughts! Not random thoughts, mind you, but specific messages aimed at me. I remember Tom something-or-other from my English class saying that he was in love with me … but his lips didn’t move! Soon I was hearing all sorts of thoughts coming at me from the guys in my classes – it was all very flattering to the ego! Of course, the gossiping between my best friend Monica and I went to whole new levels! At about the same time, I noticed that my body seemed to maintain a regular temperature, regardless of what the weather was like. During the winter months, a light jacket was all that I ever really needed … and usually then only in the face of a screaming blizzard!

It was the summer of my thirteenth birthday that the real surprise came. I were walking in the park with my best friend Monica Bishop and watching the birds flying around from tree to tree. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could fly?” I remarked, spreading my arms out. Then I jumped into the air and kept going! I was actually flying!

Monica helped me learn the potentials and limits of our abilities. She helped me figure out how to steer in mid-air and it was she who deduced that I could not initiate any telepathic conversations – only continue them once they had statrted. We were never able to decide exactly how strong I was , however, because my strength seemed to fluctuate. On some days I could lift my dad’s car, and on other days I was about as strong as a normal girl. Most of the time, however, I was somewhere in between. I tried to talk to my parents about it all, trying to find out the reason for my incredible abilities but they would never say anything. Usually all they would do is look at each other and sigh.

Finally, about a month after my first flight, my dad gave me the “With tremendous powers comes tremendous responsibilities” speech. If you’ve ever read any comic books, you know the speech I’m talking about. Anyway, he said I owed it to the world to use my powers to fight evil and protect the innocent. He also said something about furthering the cause of the Republican Party but I kind of ignored that part.

“Your mother and I disagree on this matter, Angie,” my dad told me. “She thinks you should hide your powers and just try to be a normal girl. I feel I’m a little more realistic, though – the abilities are there and it’s going to be impossible to ignore or deny them. Rather than fight it, I think you should continue developing your powers and realize their potential. You have the capacity to be a real force in the world – a heroine you might say.”

“You want me to become a superhero, dad?” I asked.

“Only you can make that decision, Angie,” was all he would say.

The next day, Monica and I all pooled our allowance money and went shopping for a heroine outfit. As it was June, however, Halloween costumes weren’t exactly filling the shelves at Wal-Mart. I thought I ought to wear a full-body leotard kind of like Batgirl’s but Monica had other ideas. “You need to show some skin, Angie,” she insisted. “After all, you are positively gorgeous! A skimpy costume will distract the bad guys long enough for you to clobber them. That’s why all the best heroines wear uniforms that look like bathing suits!” At the time, I could see the logic (although now I think it was a bit much to expect from a thirteen-year-olds) so we took the idea and ran with it. Granted, we may have gone a bit extreme however as we finally decided on a blue thong bikini. I completed the outfit with boots and forearm bands.

“Now you need a mask and a cape,” Monica suggested.

“I don’t want to wear a mask,” I said. “Everybody at school knows about my strength anyway and most of them have seen me fly. Besides, it would mess up my hair.”

“You won’t look like a superheroine without a mask,” Monica argued. “You’ll just look like a little girl in a bikini.”

I sighed and gave in. “But I don’t want a full-headed one like Batgirl … something more like Robin’s or the Lone Ranger.”

“And the cape?”

I thought about that for a moment. “It might get in the way while I’m fighting,” I decided. “It would give the bad guys something to grab. Besides, wouldn’t a cape hide one of the ‘assets’ we’re trying to promote with this bikini?”

Monica rolled her eyes at my play-on-words, but reluctantly agreed with me.

We hurried home and I tried the outfit on. For the very first time, Angela Blue became Blue Angel! My parents weren’t exactly thrilled when I modeled my new uniform for them – as a matter of fact, my dad hit the roof when he saw the thong back to my bikini – but, as he said, it was my decision.

It didn’t take long for my role as Blue Angel to become a part of everyday life. To be honest, I didn’t really do much crime fighting … Montrose Iowa isn’t exactly a hotbed of villainous activity, you know. The first five years of my superheroine career were largely spent by stopping bullies from picking on smaller kids, getting cats out of trees, and ignoring the disapproving looks of adults.

The real adventure started when I went to college …

Chapter 1 – Blue Angel meets The Spyder

“Room 210,” I said, looking at my room assignment and the numbers on the door in front of me. “This is it, Monica!”

“That’s great, now open the damn door!” A voice called out from behind her. “This box is heavy!” Monica’s dad glared at me as I opened the door and stepped inside, gently setting our dorm-sized refrigerator on the floor. Mr Bishop followed me in, carrying a box of Monica’s things. “I told you I’d be more than happy to carry that box, Mr. Bishop,” I reminded him.

Mr. Bishop set the box down on one of the boxes and glared at m again. “This is part of my job as Monica’s father, Angela,” he said, shaking his finger at me. “I’m supposed to carry the heavy stuff and you girls are supposed to worry about your makeup and hairdryers and things. Geez, Monica, what’s in this thing anyway?”

“Only makeup and hairdryers and things,” Monica giggled. Monica’s parents had offered to take me to school since she and I were going to be roommates. My own parents agreed since they had a wedding to go that weekend. Working together, it took Mr. Bishop and me about fifteen minutes to carry all of our things up to our dorm room while Monica and her mother unpacked and put things away. We then collected our hugs and Monica’s parents left shortly thereafter. They had a six-hour drive ahead of them and wanted to get a good start.

Monica looked at the freshman orientation schedule that was waiting for us in the room. “There’s nothing scheduled until Monday and today is only Saturday,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

I shrugged. “I suppose I should go introduce myself to the mayor,” I said. “I told him in my email that I would do that after I got into town. He wants to have some official-type ceremony where he deputizes me or something like that. It’s kind of pointless since I’m a fully deputized agent of the U.S. Government anyway.”

Monica nodded. “That would be the responsible thing to do. Let’s get that out of the way and then walk around campus and see if we meet anybody.”

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It was a beautiful day and there were several other students already out in the little park near the Student Union Building. As we were wearing tank tops and short shorts, it wasn’t long before a couple of guys came up to us and invited us to join them in a game of Frisbee. Monica denies it, but I really do think she attracted more attention than I did. With her dark hair and very exotic-looking eyes, not to mention her fabulous figure, she has always been one f the most beautiful girls I have ever known.

As we were playing, a sudden gust of wind caught the Frisbee and carired it high into a tree. I looked at Monica and shrugged, wondering if I should get the inevitable over with. She nodded and I gently floated up to grab the Frisbee. The guys stared at me, mouths gaping open as I landed and tossed the Frisbee. One of the guys, Kevin, didn’t even flinch when the Frisbee bounced off his chest.

“How did you do that?” he stammered.

“It was easy,” I giggled, “just a flick of the wrist.”

“That’s not what meant!”

“I know, I was just teasing,” I said. I looked around at the crowd that was forming, apparently my little flight had not gone unnoticed. “Let’s get this over with,” I announced aloud. “You guys may have heard on the news from time to time of a teen heroine named Blue Angel? Well, that would be me, I’m afraid, but you can just call me Angie.”

An older, distinguished looking man came through the crowd and approached me. “Miss Blue, I presume?” he asked with the hokiest British accent I had ever heard. “His honor, the mayor, advised me of your presence here. I am Dr. Woodrow Cole, president of this esteemed university. I pride myself on running this school with precision and order, not unlike Harvard and Oxford. What is the meaning of this outrageous display?”

“I had to get the Frisbee out of the tree,” I shrugged. “Really, Dr. Cole, I’m not any different that any of the other kids … well, except for the fact that I can fly, bench press a school bus, that kind of thing.”

“Hmmph,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at me. “Well, I trust you will endeavor to keep such public displays of your … abilities to a minimum. Furthermore, I expect there will be a sufficient number of heroic tasks for you to accomplish off the campus; pursuing the ruffians who robbed the History Museum last week, for example. I will not allow such activities to disrupt the education of these fine young men and women. Do I make myself clear?”

“Absolutely, Dr. Cole,” I assured him. “And I’m sure you can appreciate the need for my bringing this out in the open so soon. After all, I didn’t want rumors to start spreading and crowds to form every time I so much as sneezed. Such distractions are not conducive to a proper studying environment.” I winked at Monica, who was trying hard not to laugh.

Dr. Cole cleared his throat. “Now that we all know who you are, my dear,” he said, “let us break up this little assembly and all return to our studies!”

“Um, classes haven’t started yet, sir,” Monica mentioned.

“Madame,” Dr. Cole said, glaring at her, “that is entirely beside the point!” He stormed off as several of the gathered students openly laughed.

“So when do we get to see your uniform, Angie?” one of the guys asked.

“Oh, it’s in my room,” I said. “Monica, have we unpacked it yet?”

She nodded. “Top middle drawer.”

“Ok, I’ll go get it,” I said. “I should probably keep it with me anyway.” I jumped into the air and flew off in the direction of my dorm room.

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While I was putting on my uniform, Monica sent me a telepathic message.

<Angie! A campus security guard just told us to return to our dorms! Somebody is robbing the National Bank just off campus!>

Ok, I’m on my way. I thought back to her, opening the window and flying out.

I arrived at the bank and ran inside. Four masked men were holding people at bay with guns while another forced a teller to fill a sack with money. Grabbing the arm of the nearest robber, I flipped him over my shoulder to the ground. Spinning quickly, I grabbed another and threw him into a wall. The robber at the tellers’ station reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. He threw it at me and a grayish powder hit me in the face, invading my eyes and lungs. I doubled over in a coughing fit and the robbers ran out the door.

I recovered quickly and took off in pursuit. I followed the men into an alley where two of the goons grabbed me. I stomped down hard with my boot heel into one guy’s foot, and shoved the butt of my hand into the other man’s chin, knocking him senseless. Then I elbowed the first guy in the gut and flipped him over my shoulder.

“Oh come on,” I said. “You can do better than that!” Suddenly, a strong hand came from behind me, shoving a rag over my nose and mouth. I tried to fight him off but was quickly overcome by the chloroform. I sank into darkness.

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I have no idea how much time passed before I came to. I amoke to find myself lying on a rough floor. My hands were tied tightly behind my back, my ankles had been tied together, and I was blindfolded. My strength didn’t do me any good; I struggled to snap the ropes but they would not budge. I heard somebody enter the room and I stopped squirming. I could feel their eyes on me. “Are you enjoying the view?” I asked sarcastically. There was no answer. “What’s this all about! Why have you kidnapped me?”

“This is entirely unexpected,” a voice said, from across the room. “I set out to capture Patriot, but little did I realize I would wind up with the beautiful Blue Angel.”

“Do I know you?” I asked him.

The man laughed. “Oh heavens no,” he replied, “but I know you. The irony of this whole situation is staggering!”

I started struggling again. “What irony? What are you going to do with me? Who is Patriot?”

“You were captured entirely by error, my dear, so I have no immediate plans for you.” He replied. “Prudence would suggest that I eliminate you now. However, since my foolish accomplice infected you with the powder, I must allow you to live so that I may study the effect.”

“What effect? What was that powder?” I demanded.

“We’ll proceed with the plan, substituting Blue Angel for the Patriot,” he said to his henchmen, ignoring me. “We will consider this a trial run … this will also be your last chance. Do not fail me again! Good luck, Blue Angel, the time will come when we meet again.”

“Damn straight!” I shouted back at him as I heard him leave the room.

I heard his henchman approach me. “You’re not going to chloroform me again, are you?” I asked. The man took off my blindfold and gagged me with it. “Mmmmmmppphhh! Mmmmmpphhh! I screamed through the gag as the three men in the room began taking pictures of me tied up and helpless. Great, I thought, Those will be on the internet by tomorrow. After several roles of film and staring at me for a while, the men left me alone.

I knew I should have struggled, to try to escape, but a realization came over me that I didn’t want to escape. I was actually enjoying being tied up and gagged! In fact, I was getting very excited about it! There was something wrong and I had to find out what was happening to me. After about two hours, I wriggled free of my bonds and headed for the door. Pinned to the door was a note – “We will meet again, The Spyder,” it said. I shuddered and flew off into the air. I had to talk to Monica!

To Be Continued …