29: Sapphire Snared

Noel reflexively ducked low in the car as he saw Angela leave the fabric store.
This was the girl that had put up a wall between him and his son. She was just a girl. A captivating, curvacious, sexy, seductive, perfect... No! Just a girl. He wasn't going to lose his son over a girl. Tonight he was going to tear down that wall that temptress had built. From now on they had to stick together. He hoped against hope that Ricky had gotten the hot little tramp out of his mind. Because his father sure couldn't.

"Thanks for the movie, Dad. That was great!"
"Yeah, it was pretty good," Noel admitted. "I never figured Ed Norton for an action hero, but he had me convinced."
"Yeah, but the real attraction was Jennifer Love Hewitt as his girlfriend," Ricky gushed.
"I hadn't noticed," Noel deadpanned. "So you still haven't told me where we're going for dinner."
"I got reservations at GB's. It's on-"
"I know where it is," Noel interrupted. "You sure you want to go there?"
Ricky gave his father a suspicious look. "Dad, you said I could pick the restaurant."
"I did."
"So let's go."
Noel wasn't about to risk what could be his only chance to make peace with his son over a baseless fear that something might happen at the notorious crimelord's restaurant. If any night was safe, this would be it, with both police and private protection everywhere, no doubt. Besides, the place was supposed to have great steak...

"Stop here. I'll walk the rest of the way in."
"Valerie-"
"Stop the car." Val's tone was firm. Max did as instructed. Her mind was once again impenetrable.
"Don't follow me. Just pull around to the alley a block up and wait for me. If I'm not there in a half-hour it means I've found my own way home."
"Or it means you are in need of assistance."
"Max, stop it. There is nothing you can do to help me." She tapped the choker. "Remember what happened the last time you played hero."
"You are not the only one with gifts."
"I know, Max. You told me. You have experience with men like this."
"That is not all."
"I'm sure it isn't. But you can help me by waiting for me. And you can help me by getting me out of here once I'm finished. I'm about to go poke a hornet's nest."
"You could still wait until the hornets are sleeping."
"This won't wait." Val opened the door and stepped out. The door slammed. She gave Max a commanding look through the front passenger window; the taxi pulled away.

The Black Widow's heels clicked a confident rhythm up the concrete stairs, well-lit by a nearby streetlamp. A departing patron jumped out of her way when she pulled open the door. Several couples stood or sat in the waiting area; they all took notice of the dramatically-dressed young woman silhouetted before them. A turbulent swirl of air equalized inside with outside, making Black Widow's long thin sweater-coat mirror her black tresses in their angry wind-dance. Before the tossed fabric settled all eyes had taken in the tall slender form wrapped from cleavage to clit in tight black velvet. The brazen beauty made no attempt to pull down the too-short skirt as she stepped boldly up to the hostess' station, nudging aside the older man checking on his table without acknowledgement.

"Excuse me, Miss, I was helping this gentleman; I'll be with you as soon as I'm done with him." The buxom hostess, chest emphasized by her starched-white dress shirt and laughably-narrow black tie, glared at the intruder. The Black Widow ignored her, never making eye contact, but instead looking over the ledge of the station at the seating chart, studying it for layout.

Muffled conversation and clinking tableware veiled the dimly-lit room beyond. Black Widow looked out over the room momentarily, then returned to the chart. A dashed line bisected the room on the chart, with a door indicated at one end. Black Widow correlated that with the door in the corner and the beefy-looking sportcoated pair guarding it. He was here. Her eyes flashed rage.

"EXCUSE ME," the hostess raised her voice momentarily, "but I cannot seat you without a reservation." She stepped to the side of the podium, an obvious blocking motion intended to both draw the rude young woman's attention and discourage her from further trespass.

Black Widow reached behind her, underneath the thin knit coat. When her arm reappeared it ended in a menacing black barrel. She quickly pushed the gun between the hostess' big breasts, the end of the barrel poking between the halves of her shirt and pressing into her skin.

Sapphire shifted about on the roof of the row of low shops. Being a superheroine seemed to be mostly waiting around for something to happen.

The knot behind her neck began to loosen again. Darn it! She cursed the unknown seamstress as she reached back to retie the ends more tightly. She hadn't left enough fabric on the ends to make a good knot that would stay; Sapphire had had to retie the knots at her hips twice, tying the knot further up the end each time. Those knots finally proved secure, but they drew the top tightly across her chest, straining the gathered seam between her breasts, and pulled the bikini bottom quite a bit higher up on her hips than she'd have liked. She tied the neck knot firmly, pulling another inch of each side into the knot, stretching the fabric over her breasts even more tightly. She hoped it would finally hold; she didn't know how much tighter she could stretch the gauzy material.

And she needed them to hold, because the dress was little more than a wraparound cape now. All but three of the tiny buttons near the waist had pulled off, leaving the dress to flap open top and bottom to her belly button. Not that it mattered; the whisper of fabric had proven quite transparent once out in the light of day. Or under a streetlamp.

Beyond the continued frustration with her new outfit, it had been a trying afternoon and evening, hopping from building to building following Detective Rubio on his rounds. Mostly he seemed to be visiting other beat cops, exchanging a few whispered words before moving on to the next one. But finally he'd pulled up here and parked.

Across the street was a fancy restaurant. GB's. Detective Rubio's car sat not ten feet away below her. He'd been sitting there for two hours. As had she. About a half-hour ago he'd been joined in the car by a uniformed (and body-armored) young officer. Sapphire had been able to pick up most of their conversation through the open passenger window. Fifteen minutes ago they'd wired someone up and sent him in undercover. There were four officers awaiting a signal in a van two doors down from the restaurant, and four more around back near the side entrance. And apparently they weren't all supposed to be here. It was a lot of resources dedicated -- and a lot of favors cashed in for Detective Rubio, it seemed -- to guarding one man, even if he was a notorious crimelord just out of prison. They were waiting for something. Something big.

A large battered sedan wallowed up the street, coming to a stop one block up from the restaurant. Sapphire wondered if the police would notice it from their earthbound position.

Wait, I know that car. It's that gypsy cab.

Sapphire became dizzy with fear. It was the Hunter. How had he found her? As her mind raced through the possibilities, the back door opened. A tall, slim young woman got out. A long black flowing sweater mostly covered a scandalously short black dress.

The cab hesitated a moment and then drove off; Sapphire breathed a sigh of suspicious relief as she watched the cab turn away two blocks up.

Her gaze returned to the familiar woman now walking across the street in a beeline for the GB's entrance. Her sapphire choker glimmered in the light of the streetlamps. If only the police weren't here, she could make her play now and subdue the deadly vigilante. As it was she couldn't risk being caught herself, at least not until she figured out what everyone's part was.

Spike-heeled pumps tapped out a defiant rhythm quickened by the stairs. A moment later the raven-haired vixen was inside.

Black Widow was here! What was she doing here? Why would the city's most wanted vigilante (not counting Sapphire herself, not that the police considered them two different people anyway) walk into a restaurant surrounded by the police? A restaurant owned by a well-known criminal kingpin just released from prison, a man under heavy private and police protection, a man who (the papers said) had been involved in everything from extortion to drugs to money-laundering to... prostitution...

Of course. Black Widow was here for Gerald Bates.

And Detective Rubio... somehow he must have known. Why else provide (unauthorized) police protection for a crimelord who surely knew how to take care of himself? Guys like that had an army of bodyguards, didn't they? This was a trap for Black Widow and she was walking right into it. Sapphire didn't know how to feel about that.

But what kind of trap used innocent civilians? If the street parking and the regular comings and goings through the front door were any indication, the place was packed.

If the police knew Black Widow would show up, why didn't they grab her out front? Why did they let her go inside? Didn't they recognize her? Of course they recognized her. What were they thinking? She was going to kill Bates. Were the police just going to let her do it? Or were they going to wait until she tried something, like some kind of sting operation? Did they really think they could stop her? Didn't they know what she was capable of? Sapphire's head spun in confusion. This didn't make any sense!

She had to do something.

But... what? Barge in and take on Black Widow herself? Even if she weren't worried about her... distracted present condition, she didn't think a lethal vigilante would surrender at the very sight of her. It wasn't like Sapphire's presence would exactly strike fear into the hearts of evildoers. (Lust was more like it.) Particularly not the way she was dressed now. (As if anything else you've ever worn was any better, her conscience scolded.) She'd given little thought to exactly how she'd subdue Black Widow, and none at all to the, what was it called? Collateral damage. Maybe the police were willing to gamble with the lives of innocent bystanders, but Sapphire couldn't be so capricious.

This was what she'd wanted -- what she'd set out that afternoon to find -- and yet it was all wrong.

Feeling as helpless and frustrated as ever, Sapphire could do nothing but sit and wait.

"So, Dad, been working any interesting cases lately?" Ricky flapped his napkin open and placed it on his lap.
"Not really," Noel lied. "Things have been pretty quiet for me the last few weeks." That didn't explain his long hours, though; he tried to cover. "Lots of boring cases, though. A lot of paperwork and digging through old files."
Ricky sighed. "That's good, I guess." He wished his father would share more about his work. Ricky was old enough to know the world wasn't always a pretty place.
"It is. Believe me, when you're in law enforcement, excitement is a bad thing."
"Don't you ever get tired of saying that?" Ricky teased.
"Nope," Noel mugged. "So what's my son been doing with his summer vacation? I haven't seen you much lately. Have you been doing a lot of drawing?"
"Yeah."
"I'd like to see some of it sometime."
"You know where my gallery is. Stop by any time." There was just a hint of irony in the younger Aquino's voice.
"Okay, okay, so I haven't been home much. But your door hasn't been open much, either."
"Can you blame me?" Ricky suddenly shot back, clearly hurt and angry.
Noel saw that the subject was still very much a sore one. "Ricky, I'm sorry. But you know she's... well, you should be dating girls your age."
"Yeah, I know." Ricky looked off across the room. An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

Noel finally cleared his throat. "So, how was that comic book convention? I saw that bag of stuff you brought home. Did you meet anybody famous?"
"Yeah. But even better, I sold a drawing."
"Really! Tell me about it!"
"Well, I took a break for lunch, and I was just finishing up a drawing of..." Ricky held back; his Dad would think it was silly, "a couple of characters of mine, when a bunch of guys walking by saw it. They stopped and asked me about it, and then this one older guy wearing a suit saw it and he asked me if I'd do a piece for him."
"Right there, huh?"
"Yeah. Charged him a hundred dollars. And that was just for an ink, no color. Not that there's much color to the Black Widow anyway," Ricky blurted out the character name in his excitement.

Noel swallowed hard. Somehow he'd hoped the outside world would never get its hands on his son, but Noel knew he couldn't protect the boy forever. Besides, what was wrong with it? It was just drawing. "Well, I'm proud of you. Your first commissioned piece. I always knew you were good."
"Thanks. I'm thinking of starting a web site for my work. Kind of like an online resume." Actually, I've already started one, but it's not for me.
"That's a good idea," Noel nodded. "A toast to a professional artist," he raised his glass; Ricky lifted his Pepsi in acknowledgement. "May the only danger in your life be in what you draw."
Ricky clinked glasses. It was kind of a weird toast, but his Dad had always been very protective of him.
"Thanks, Dad."

There was a commotion at the front of the restaurant. Noel looked over his son's shoulder toward the source of the raised voices.

"*Now* will you seat me without a reservation?" It was a young woman's voice. Someone stifled a scream.

A moment later something tall and draped in black strode into view. The girl's dress said escort; the long-legged strut said runway model; the look in her eyes said scorned lover; the Glock said assassin.

"Ricky, get down." Noel turned and flashed a look that his son dared not question.

Black Widow's hips kicked with each long stride; her pace increased with every step. The two muscle-heads had noticed her; the shorter, hard-bodied one moved forward to intercept her, puffing out his chest in his tight turtleneck and throwing his shoulders back not unlike any male answering a physical challenge to his domain. She noticed the other one knocked on the door -- some kind of coded warning, no doubt.

Good. Let him know I'm coming.

She saw the aggressor-bodyguard glance to his left as he approached her; she followed his glance to the service enclave. So his intent was to redirect her into the shadows to neutralize her. She sized him up; no taller than she was in her high heels. How convenient.

He timed his approach to meet her at the right spot, turning his shoulders and spreading his arms to force her to the right. His eyes focused on hers, attempting to keep her attention. But Black Widow ignored him, looking past him to the meatier bodyguard at the door, fixing him with an icy stare. His eyes grew large at the anticipated conflict.

The blocker had braced himself, leaning forward at the last second just as she reached him and tried to push through, using his greater mass to knock her to the right, neatly into the aisle toward the service enclave. She had been on the receiving end of this bouncer move at many a nightclub, nights when she'd had one too many and gone after some twerp who'd thought he could sneak in an 'innocent' grab as he walked past her. She let the move happen, bouncing off his chest in feigned surprise. She even let him get his hand around her wrist, neutralizing the threat of her gun. But tonight she was neither drunk nor distracted. And the Glock was not the weapon here; Black Widow was.

Her free left hand reached up and grabbed him by the lapel of his sportcoat as she stepped back, amplifying the energy of his chest-bump by leaning and pivoting back to her left, pulling him forward toward her off-balance. To him it would just seem that he'd miscalculated and bumper her too hard; by the time he realized she was spinning him past her and driving him backwards into the enclave she'd gained enough momentum and he'd lost enough balance that he could only let it happen, bracing for the impact.

Crash!

By the time his back impacted the enclave wall, he was wearing a wicked grin, and he'd grabbed her left wrist and was pulling it down and out, pulling her to him. Surprised at the agility of her attack, he nonetheless knew he had the advantage of mass. What now, bitch? His built body could take the full-length impact of a slender girl of 125 pounds or so, and then he'd spin her around, wrap her up in his arms, and drag her out back where she could be properly restrained. And retrained.

But the flash image of triumph began to part ways with reality as she approached. Her eyes locked his even as she lowered her head...

Black Widow leaned forward, head down, putting all of her momentum into a forehead blow to the bridge of the bodyguard's nose. She saw sparks and felt a crack. As the rest of her body bounced off his, she felt the grip on her wrists go slack; she pushed off him with her hips and took a quick two steps back, smiling cruelly.

The bodyguard's expression went blank. His hands slowly came together at his nose. He staggered forward a step -- Black Widow slid swiftly to one side -- then his feet froze as the rest of his body continued forward, tipping, falling, bending and finally thudding like lumber to the carpet. Black Widow stepped over the felled log of muscle, fixing her eyes on the remaining obstacle at the door.

One down, one to go.

Any appreciation the man-mountain may have had for the gorgeous babe now approaching him had vanished as soon as his partner's unconscious and bloodied face smacked the carpeted aisleway. Instinct and training said this was a potentially deadly threat. With such a threat only fifteen feet away, instinct and training have only one response. In a flash his weapon was drawn and centered on the assassin's chest. His eyes matched hers, looking for hesitation.

They found none.

Black Widow regarded the massive chrome phallic symbol with disgust. She stepped forward, daring him to fire.

The bodyguard watched her take one step, then another. She still carried her gun lowered at her side, her arms only swinging with her growing strides. Clearly she did not expect him to shoot. No doubt she was used to disarming men with her beauty and boldness. But he was not so easily swayed. On the third step, at less than ten feet, instinct and training dictated action. His face tightened in anticipation of the shot. Trigger squeezed. He saw her eyebrows raise in surprise, and her eyes bulge wide and then squeeze shut in reaction to the muzzle flash. Her fourth step was abbreviated as the force of the shot smashed her chest.

And a bright blue flash of light seemed to mark the impact.

Bodyguard blinked. A ceramic planter above the table to his left spontaneously exploded. He looked back in surprise; had she gotten a shot off? No, her weapon was still pointed to the floor behind her, though it was swinging forward...

Black Widow's left hand went to her chest as she regained her balance. With her fifth step she glanced down to her fingers. Smudged with burned fabric but bloodless. She would have to learn not to flinch. Her eyes raised to meet his, narrowing as his widened.

Another cannon shot. She leaned into the blow; her gems again flashed at the impact. His eyes bespoke the impossibility of the scene before him. Another shot, rushed; this whizzed harmlessly overhead, the massive weapon now off-target in recoil. Two more steps before he was back on target; she swatted the gun aside with her empty bare hand. No, not her hand, a cast-iron skillet that looked like a hand. The gun went flying off into the darkness of the restaurant. His hand felt as if it had been replaced by a fireball.

He looked down, his brain unable to calculate a move that made sense in what was surely a nightmare. A hollow thump on the floor marked her dropped weapon. Her right shoulder twitched forward; suddenly the palm of her right hand was in his face, smashing his nose, snapping his head back, blinding him red. He staggered back to crumple against the door. Hands reflexed to face. Another blinding pain, this time lower down; he vaguely registered her pointed-toe pump retreating from his groin.

Something grabbed at his lapels and yanked him forward. The room spun and tilted. Something large smashed up against his side, then leaned into him. He recognized the floor before he passed out.

Sapphire rocked back and forth on the edge of the roof. The tension was killing her.

It didn't help that her sapphires had passed their peak almost an hour ago and were beginning to discharge through the girl's body. With each move back and forth, her breasts shifted slightly under the gauzy material of her tied-down skimpy top, playing the fabric over her sensitive skin and teasing her stiffening nipples.

"I still can't believe you just let her walk in there."
"We can't get her out on the street. She's too slippery, she'll get away. Once she's inside and in the back we'll have her trapped."
"But there's innocent people in there."
"And that's why we're not charging in there now. She's after Bates."
"What if she gets to Bates before we get to her?"
"So what if she does?"

The junior officer was silent. Rubio had it all figured out. Still, the way he played people like this was unnerving.

"I don't know how you figured she'd show up here. I know Bates is involved in a little prostitution, but it's strictly escort service stuff; so far the girl's just been doin' street pimps. What's her beef with Bates? I don't get it."
"All that matters is we get the girl. She'll lead us to her boyfriend and then it'll all be over."
"Are you sure it's even one girl? Word on the street is there's two of 'em, Black Widow and this chick Sapphire."

Rubio was indignant. "That's ridiculous. Have you ever seen both of them in the same place at the same time? Excuse me? I can't hear you. No? That's what I thought. Leave the detecting to the detective, Officer Backup."

Sapphire frowned. This Detective Rubio sure was a jerk!

Suddenly the radio hissed and spat to life with an amplified whisper. "Shots fired! Shots fired! Bodyguards down!"
Rubio snatched the handset. "Hold position! Do not engage! Let her go in back. Report!"

Across the street, the front door burst open; panicked patrons spilled out, falling and pushing and jumping down the steps and out into the street, scattering in all directions.

"She's through the door. I'm following."
"All units hold! There are innocent civilians in there. Let them clear out. Wait for my signal!"

Rubio and his uniformed escort sat in breathless silence, waiting eternal moments. Rubio was listening for the magic words, 'Bates is hit'...

"Oh my God, it's a massacre! She's killing them all!"

Sapphire's blood boiled. Thoughts of the Hunter, her energy level, and the police vanished.

Lives were threatened. Instinct took over.

The heroine shot skyward like a missile, a hundred feet in the air, looking down at the restaurant for a way in. She paused but an instant as her gaze locked in on a skylight. There was no time. One leg pointed, the other drawn up in front of her, she raised her arms up over her head and pushed hard. A human arrow streaked straight down.

Black Widow ignored the sudden chaotic panic that erupted as restaurant patrons climbed over each other to escape the female demon who seemed to have come to slay them all. Her focus narrowed to the door marked "PRIVATE" and the demon she'd come to slay hiding on the other side. Shoulder lowered, she charged.

Noel felt himself beaten back toward the front door by the mindless crush of humanity pushing for escape. "Ricky!" he screamed. But his son was gone. Struggling in vain against the current of fear, Noel found himself tumbling down the concrete steps until his world went black.

"Lenny, Carl, report." The one with his gun drawn tapped his earpiece.
"I hear yelling," said the one with his ear to the door.
"We better get you out of here, boss..."

In an instant the door was gone and the room was showered with splinters. Sounds of mass panic flooded through the doorway. And the private dining room where moments ago Gerald Bates had been enjoying a quiet dinner at his own restaurant with his new favorite escort and a half-dozen of his closest personal bodyguards was infected with chaos.

Two bodies came crashing down through a table to rest in the center of the room. Without hesitation, three guns triangulated and painted the spot with lead. Earpiece was violently shoving the much larger Bates toward the door at the corner of the room. Bates, in shock, stumbled and resisted, a whirl of surprise and anger at the intrusion rooting the powerful man to the spot. After a few seconds and more than a few bullets, the guns were silent. Two clips fell free of their weapons, clinking with broken glass on the floor as replacements were snicked into place.

The beautiful lithe corpse laying atop the bodyguards' eavesdropping companion suddenly rolled off. Legs kicked up, followed by hips, torso, and head as the very-alive assassin flipped herself upright. The trio of bodyguards couldn't help but glance down at their fallen comrade.

What the fuck?!?

The death-defying woman hadn't taken a half-step toward one of them when they opened fire again. Muzzle flash was mirrored by equally-bright blue bursts of energy leaping from the girl's body with every large-caliber impact, leaving gaping holes in her dress but otherwise accomplishing nothing. In two steps she had the outstretched wrist of the first one, twisting past his piece, yanking his arm down and toward her, thrusting her other palm skyward as the bodyguard was lurched forward. Palm connected to chin with sickening force, snapping the bodyguard's head back into gruesome lifelessness. She neatly sidestepped the body, grabbing the pistol out of the dead hand before the body hit the floor.

She raised the big gun, pointing right between the eyes of one of the two remaining men. He didn't understand how she was still standing after the fusillade they'd unleashed, but he did understand what a level weapon meant to him. His partner also paused, waiting for the girl to realize that she couldn't shoot them both without being shot herself, and struggling to understand why she didn't have to care.

Black Widow took a sudden step forward, taunting the adversary in her sights, daring him to shoot. He flinched. She lunged forward again, her weapon now right next to his; again he flinched.

"Kill her!" Bates screamed. Black Widow's head snapped around, eyes fixing on her prey. Bates was furious; clearly he didn't understand the danger.

She was done fucking around with these clowns. She squeezed.

Blam!

She turned, pivoting the pointed gun around her. The remaining bodyguard's weapon was in her face. She squeezed again.

Click!

The bodyguard smiled wickedly. She was empty! He pulled the trigger; reflexively she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt a hard smack in time with sharp explosive sound. She shook it off. The bodyguard froze up, unable to process what he saw.

Black Widow smiled wickedly. Her other hand flew up, striking the shooter's elbow hard. The gun fell from pain-slackened grip. She dropped her gun and stepped forward, punching him hard in the throat; he went down like a domino.

Earpiece was frantically shoving and jostling and pointing toward the corner door. Bates' mouth lost its hard line as he reluctantly accepted the movement. Black Widow ran full-speed to block their escape, smacking tables and chairs aside with furious blue sparks as she went, finally skidding and spinning and smacking against the door back-first. Earpiece turned and backpedaled, leaning into Bates with all his weight as if pushing against a mule. Bates reversed direction too, now stumbling over shattered furniture and dismantled defenders toward the gaping doorway and the front of the restaurant beyond it.

Someone at the door was yelling to no one. "Oh my God, it's a massacre! She's killing them all!"

Black Widow stepped confidently toward the retreating pair. Earpiece pulled his gun, bullseyed her chest, and planting himself between huntress and prey, opened fire. Round after round spat from the weapon only to ricochet off the bulletproof bitch as she came for him. His clip emptied just as she reached him. Her back foot came forward and slammed him in the crotch. She planted both feet, grabbed him by the hair, then raised her other knee as she yanked his head down into it; Earpiece's nose shattered in an explosion of blood. She dropped an elbow to the back of his head with a fierce Crack! The last defender slumped to the floor.

Bates was frozen against the wall in fear.

"It's time to pay for what you did, you sick Fuck," she said evenly.

And for the first time, through the bullet-riddled dress and the gunsmoke and dust of a shattered room, he recognized her.

"V-Valerie?"

Black Widow's foot stepped on a gun. The Glock she'd brought with her; she must have dropped it crashing through the door. She knelt down to pick it up, and before she'd fully stood fired three rounds low, two of them striking Bates in the shins. The man fell to his knees out of painful necessity. But the pose was nonetheless appropriate; his face showed unmitigated fear, perhaps for the first time in his life. And the last. When he saw her toss her gun aside, confusion rose; when he saw her flex her arms and ball her hands into fists, fear rose higher. Her face darkened and twisted with pure hate.

The din of escaping diners was receding. Black Widow stepped forward.

An explosive crash overhead stopped her in her tracks. Glass knives rained down through a bright blue glow.

Reflex dictated a full-body flinch.

When she straightened up, Black Widow found herself looking down at a new obstacle. It straightened up from its landing crouch, chest swelling, shoulders back, feet apart, arms out. A small young woman, standing in front of Black Widow with a defiance that belied her fragile feminine appearance, draped in transparent rags and wearing some kind of shimmering blue bikini. The girl looked up at Black Widow with indignation.

"Shit, there's two of them!" The undercover's yell blared through the radio. They heard indiscriminate thuds and shouts in the background. "Another girl came in through the skylight! She saved Bates! She's engaging Black Widow!" A loud crash, then silence.

"Fuck!" Rubio screamed, banging his fast on the dashboard. He miked the handset. "Move in! All units move in! Deploy the tear gas!" He dropped the handset, simultaneously reaching for his pistol on the seat and the car door handle. The uniformed officer followed suit, piling out of the car.

Rubio stood and watched as four body-armored officers stormed up the steps; there would be four more similarly-equipped hand-picked officers entering the restaurant from the side fire exit, where Bates was reportedly fleeing. Bates had survived, but he would still have his Black Widow. And the Avenging Angel as a bonus. Already his mental gears spun furiously on a story. Yes, he knew all along, but had to maintain publicly that there was a lone woman responsible in order to lure them both out...

The uniformed officer interrupted his thinking. "So should I call you Detective Take It Back?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"That works too."

Sapphire looked up at the hate-filled eyes that now focused on her. Black Widow launched a punch at her midsection, but she'd braced herself; it bounced off harmlessly. Black Widow's eyebrow raised in bemusement. It's Her.

Sapphire countered, flicking her wrists up; her opponent was suddenly lifted and planted some five feet back; she scrambled to keep her footing. Sapphire crossed her arms, pushing out her ample chest. You've Been Warned.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that, sugar," Black Widow scoffed.
"Don't make me hurt you," Sapphire warned in reply.

Just then, a tube, too large to be a shotgun, poked through the doorway and made a hollow Plunk! Moments later the cloud of dust hanging in the room began to thicken in swirling gray-green fumes. Several geared officers, looking like mutant rats in their gas masks and body armor, pushed through the door to fan out along the interior wall, picking through shattered remains of tables and chairs.

Sapphire lowered her arms, turning away from Black Widow to face the new intruders. Before the taller girl could strike a blow, Sapphire rose up from the floor and, as if advised by the gems themselves, flexed all her limbs at once. A shockwave of force shook the room, blasting everything out from her center. Troopers were blown off their feet and launched into the interior wall just as it shattered in a hail of sheet rock and splintered wood. The side door blew out off its hinges, knocking four more incoming officers violently back down the stairs and into the street. Every window disintegrated into showers of glass stilettos. A fast-rolling front of tear gas pushed out the destroyed windows before slowly retreating and settling in the front of the restaurant; a similar cloud settled on the unconscious officers spilled on the side street.

Rubio picked himself up off the pavement, carefully brushing bits of glass off his leather jacket and pants. His face stung. "What the fuck was that?"

"Some kind of explosion," the uniformed officer answered, still flat on his back.

This operation was fast going to shit. "Report," Rubio commanded his handheld. There was no answer.

Sapphire fell the few inches to the floor, staggering a bit to regain her balance. Her blast had repelled the gas and the invaders in one stroke, but it had taken a lot out of her. She shook her head clear and looked around. Bates was out cold to her left; about a half-dozen armored troopers were scattered about the front half of the restaurant; a few pieces of shattered two-by-fours hung from the ceiling where the wall had been. Behind her, the side door was open; the frame looked busted. Something stirred to her right -- Black Widow? No, someone else, a restaurant patron no doubt. The ceiling and walls creaked and groaned. Sapphire tried to bring her breathing back to normal as she began to pick her way across the floor toward the innocent victim, her eyes still scanning the debris for her nemesis.

A pile of rubble exploded with a banshee yell; Sapphire turned to catch a tattered black streak lunging at her midsection. Black Widow drove hard into Sapphire's ribcage, legs pistoning, lifting the smaller girl up on her lowered shoulder, and slamming her hard against the opposite wall. The building rumbled with the impact. Sapphire retaliated with a viscious knee to Black Widow's chin; the black-clad girl staggered back with the blow, fighting to regain her balance. Sapphire, regaining her wind, shot an open palm forward, directing a blunt force into her foe's midsection. Black Widow left her feet, limbs flailing as the force knocked her past the middle of the room, landing her hard on her butt. But the blow had not been as strong as either girl had expected. Sapphire pulled herself free of the indented wall, moving in on her downed opponent, ready to deliver another hammer-blow, but giving her the chance to surrender. Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing. She was winded, but exhilerated as the battle seemed to be winding down. She had turned the tide; Black Widow was on the ropes. The tall girl stumbled and fell trying to get back to her feet. What Sapphire assumed was the rush of impending victory coursed through her body.

Sapphire was so focused on battle with her opponent that she gave no thought to the damage her outfit had sustained, even as the whirling breezes blowing through the shattered room kicked up the shredded remains of the sheer outer dress, little more than a cape of sheer rags whispering against her skin. The top layer of her monokini top had been sliced open down the front, leaving just one layer of gauzy material holding her cupped breasts together.

But when the damaged top finally split open, the tearing sound punctuating the air, the suddenly-shifting fabric over her suddenly-released breasts made her overamped body shudder in response. Sapphire halted unsteadily in the center of the room. She looked down at her swollen breasts, threatening to spill out underneath the now-separated sheer cups drawn taut from neck to hips. Oh, God, it was happening! Mustering the boldest look she could manage in her charged and distracted condition, Sapphire looked back up at her foe. Had Black Widow noticed her moment of weakness?

Black Widow recognized the symptoms of the sapphire's seductive side-effects in her adversary. And she knew she had the advantage. Sapphire was close to the edge; it wouldn't take much to push her over.

Black Widow licked her lips. Bates wasn't going anywhere; first she had to subdue this super-tramp.

She feigned fear, holding up a hand in submissive defense, as she got to her feet. Sapphire took another step, less sure-footed, toward her statuesque opponent, arms up and ready to strike, never taking her eyes off the defeated villain's. Black Widow waited. Sapphire took another step; her flimsy high-heeled shoe caught on a piece of debris, knocking her slightly off balance; her hands went out to her sides to recover. Black Widow saw her chance; she pounced.

Sapphire's guard had only been dropped for an instant, but it was enough. A length of table leg smashed across her cheek; her gems sparked in protest as she reeled back from the unexpected blow. Black Widow followed with a left cross, then a right hook, then a two-handed shove to the chest. Sapphire found herself being driven back, tumbling and reeling, using everything she could to keep upright, until she smacked against the crumbling wall. Before she could recover, Black Widow was upon her, grabbing her wrists and raising them, bringing an elbow sharply across her nose. Sapphire was pinned.

She struggled against her captor, but Black Widow was bigger and stronger, and with her arms pinned above her head and her feet scrabbling for purchase among the debris of battle, she couldn't direct her weakening force in any useful direction. She punched frustrated holes in the ceiling, weakening with each shot as she felt Black Widow's body grind into hers. "Let go!" she whined uselessly.

Black Widow looked down at her mounted butterfly, twisting and jostling and wriggling. The feeble struggles only stoked the fires of desire.

"You are a sweet piece of ass, aren't you?"

She pulled Sapphire's hands closer over her head, pinning her wrists together with one hand. Black Widow's free hand snaked down Sapphire's body, stopping to pinch a nipple through the translucent monokini top. Sapphire gasped at her body's traitorous response. Pushing through the curtain of Sapphire's shredded dress, Black Widow's hand wrapped down and around to grab a dominating handful of asscheek, long fingernails snagging the outer layer of the smaller girl's bikini bottom.

"A *very* sweet piece of ass."

Black Widow pulled her hand away slowly, hooking the fabric as her fingers closed into a fist, then yanked away quickly. The top layer of the wispy panties tore away neatly. Sapphire felt her left shoe hang loose as her leg was lifted up slightly. Her body, sensitized and stimulated by the imbalanced sapphires and the rough treatment, was immobilized with lust.

Black Widow's own imbalance continued to cloud her mind. She leaned into the submissive girl's chest, shifting to one side, feeling her victim's stiff nipples drag through the minefield of her own bullet-riddled dress. She felt hot gasping breath against her neck; she smiled in conquest. Her hand feathered down the girl's trembling tummy to cup her sex.

Oh! Sapphire's hips first elevated to escape the touch, legs stretching up on tiptoe; but when the invading fingers chased her swimming clit until it could go no higher, her legs failed her and she found her pelvis pushing down in encouragement. Her hips rolled, her whole body writhed in conflicted lust.

Sapphire felt a finger push into her through the wispy nothing of her panties; her knees went weak. She heard herself whimper when the finger withdrew, snagging and tearing through the last tissue-thin vestige of virtue; her head lolled as two fingers drove through the sliced panties and deep inside her, one finger curling and finding her g spot. "You like being dominated, don't you?" Sapphire could only moan in response.

The two fingers played her instrument like a virtuoso; she could only dance weakly at the end of her master's arm. Convlusive waves of ecstacy rushed through her. Her sapphires flickered and glowed in spasms. She'd been defeated, taken, owned. She was helpless, powerless, weak as a kitten and crying out as pathetically. Final blessed release was so close...

Ricky shook himself free of debris, watching in shock the spectacle before him. How could this be? His heroine was helpless, neutralized in humiliation. His mind tensed in disbelief. And disbelief turned to anger.

"Let go of her, you BITCH!"

Hands grabbed the nearest large object, ripping the fire extinguisher from the wall. Rage propelled the boy in a running start halfway across the room before launching the steel projectile at the evil woman defiling the damsel he worshipped.

The metal canister rose and fell in an arc, coming down valve-stem-first square between Black Widow's shoulder blades. The valve snapped off, rupturing the tank in a shower of white powder and propellant. The force of the surprise blow knocked Black Widow forward, her knees coming down at the base of the wall, her body sliding down Sapphire's torso.

The extinguisher blast and sudden slackening of her sexual tormentor jarred Sapphire out of her sexual fog. She half-fell, half-stepped to one side, extricating herself from the stunned Black Widow. Head quickly clearing, she backed away from her attacker, giving herself time and space to recover.

Black Widow forced herself to her feet. Seeing Sapphire still staggering in place, she knew the smaller girl wouldn't get away. She spun around to confront the new threat. "You *fucking* child! How DARE you!" Breathing ragged with effort, she began to close in on the boy.

Sapphire straightened up, her wits once again fully about her. She saw her nemesis approaching her friend.

Ricky had helped her. He'd saved her. And now he was in mortal danger because of it.

Her fists clenched tight as she tracked the deadly Black Widow across the room. An emotional reserve she didn't know she had welled up; her gems glowed with power.

"NNOOO!"

A column of force ripped across the room, tossing Black Widow perpendicular to her path like a hat in a hurricane, blowing her limp body into the back wall. The wall burst on impact, great chunks of concrete splaying out as if they were styrofoam, littering the alley beyond. Ten feet of roof collapsed around the impact site, leaving a massive crater.

Distant sirens pierced the relative silence that followed. Sapphire turned quickly to her savior. "Are you all right?"

Ricky pointed through the dust where the wall once was. "She's getting away!"

Sapphire looked. Black Widow was madly shoving debris off her body, screaming in fury. She was almost free...

The revitalized superheroine quickly lit into the air, flying in an arc that would land her at Black Widow's feet. The tattered remains of her dress tore off in the wind, leaving her wearing nothing but a scant sheer blue monokini, wrist cuffs, and stiletto mules. But her attire was the furthest thing from her mind as she closed in on the cause of so much death and destruction.

As she cleared the remains of the outer wall, her sapphires glowed brightly...

...and suddenly went dark. Sapphire felt her energy turn on her, disappearing from underneath her in an instant to envelope her body in erotic overload. She fell like a stone to the ground, blacking out briefly on impact.

Sapphire's mind was a blur. She'd felt an instant of unwanted heaven interrupt her, only to release her as quickly to the coldness of the night. She struggled to lift herself off the concrete-littered asphalt. Her eyes slowly focused on a dark form crouched over the spot where Sapphire's target had been.

The Hunter!

Her heart raced in fear. She had to escape! Her body responded in slow motion, taking agonizing seconds to get shakily to her feet. She checked her head with an unsteady hand; her tiara was intact. She saw the Hunter helping Black Widow into a car. She turned to fly away, but hesitated; did she have the energy? Sapphire left her feet, rising as quickly as she dared in her condition, afraid to turn around, wobbling off through the air above the alley.

Max kicked the engine to life. He couldn't let Sapphire get away! Her sapphires belonged to Black Widow! He needed her to have them! He reached out with his mind trying to snare his delicate butterfly, but his amulet faltered; he wasn't strong enough to take her down from a distance. The car roared down the alley in pursuit; she wouldn't get far. He tried to ignore the approaching wail of multiple sirens.

As he closed in, staring up through the windshield at his prey, her flight became slower and more erratic. She was his!

Sapphire felt the wind buffet her bare skin, whispering torturous sweet nothings against her still-inflamed breasts and mound. Fear gripped her, driving her to panicked bursts of force, each burst feeding back energy of almost-unbearable pleasure. She felt her force fading as her unbidden desire grew, dropping her lower and lower between each fitful burst. The tendrils of the Hunter's devastating attack gained grip on her with each passing moment.

Her legs kicked frantically in a vain effort to go higher, caught up in the tragic irony that the more she struggled, the more the sapphire energy failed her, inflamed her, enslaved her. The weakened hip ties of her top gave way under the strain of her gyrations, fluttering free of first one breast and then the other. Sapphire lost all control, tumbling hopelessly earthward, the blue gemstones spitting and snapping and popping and sparking in confused final release.