Wonder Woman in Ankara #3

Wonder Woman was created by Dr William Moulton Marston in 1941 and is the © copyright trademark of DC Comics. My Wonder Woman stories are only fan fiction and based, primarily, on the 1970s CBS TV show (albeit, updated to the present time of writing). However, any resources from adaptations and the comics may be utilized. All characters are entirely fictional. Except for any characters found in DC Comics or related adaptations, these stories and characters are my creations, unless otherwise stated. In my stories, Wonder Woman is the only known superhero.

03 Don’t let the evil eye touch you

In a private ward on the upper echelons of Memorial Hospital tower block, Doctor Inman consulted Diana Prince on Reza Bayar’s condition. The medic was a short, studious looking man with gold framed spectacles and a pencil moustache. He led Diana Prince away from Reza Bayar who was lying on a bed in a private room. They chatted outside in an empty corridor where tinted windows overlooked the city.  

“He’s been in terrible pain,” lamented the Doctor. “We are having to administer all medicines orally as no needle can penetrate his skin. I must say, Ms Prince, in my forty-five years of practice, I have never seen anything like it. it appears the bullet didn’t pierce the dermis due to its incredible density. Rather, I wager, the impact made an indentation but couldn’t pass through his skin. Where was he shot?”

“I believe it happened in a shopping mall. Only, he didn’t feel it until sometime later.”

“Quite extraordinary! Quite extraordinary!” exclaimed the doctor, shaking his head. “Could be the adrenaline, I suppose. I have heard of cases like that. You say this man has been subject to radiation of some kind?”   

“Yes, that’s my understanding,” confirmed Diana, thoughtfully. “Doctor, is there anyway radiation may have caused mutated DNA, resulting in a hardened exterior when reformed?”

“I know of none,” he said, “but that’s quite a notion, young lady. The closest to what you are describing is the mutational process of chromothripsis. Chromosomal shattering could – at least in theory – reorder the structure. Except, what kind of force has this boy been exposed to for such an abnormality to take place?”

“That is what I would like to know, Doctor,” said Diana, contemplating another, yet different kind of idea. “Thanks, I’ll check back with you later.”

A plush meeting room in the Ankara’s towering JW Marriett Hotel was where the new acting US Trade Representative, Brent Mendelson, saw reporters.

“I’m sorry, Mr Mendelsohn, there’s one more reporter,” informed his faithful secretary. “She’s very insistent on seeing you.”

“I am not insistent!” corrected the journalist, poking her head around the door.

“You have some nerve, following me in here!” the secretary retorted; a thin, curly fair-haired lady in a flowery dress.

“It’s okay, Jean, I’ll see Miss…?”

“Principle, Diana Principle. Associated Press,” said Diana Prince, shaking Brent Mendelson’s hand.

Mendelson signalled to Jean to leave the room, which she did, but not before frowning in Diana’s direction.

“Well, Miss Principle, it’s been a long, tiring day. What questions do you have for me which are so urgent that they can’t wait?”

Mendelson was a pale, middled-aged man with golden-ginger hair. He had been Lombard’s right-hand man in trade talks with Turkey.

“I have questions about the trade deal.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

Diana meekly smiled.

“For instance, don’t you find it strange that alone extremist was let into the trade deal’s press conference with a firearm?”

The Trade Representative raised his eyebrows.

“Miss Principle, you appear to be under the misapprehension that I’m here to talk about the murder of my predecessor, who I might add, was a fine colleague. I would urge you to put such a question to the appropriate authorities. However, since you ask, as far as I am aware, the terrorist conned his way into the conference by obtaining a VIP pass and, therefore, bypassing the usual checks.”

“With a gun in his pocket?” Diana queried.  “That is quite a feat for a simple philosophy student, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes. I would,” he replied in a noticeably agitated tone.

Diana thoughtfully adjusted her spectacles.

“I put it to you, Mr Ambassador, for an armed man to be allowed into such an important press conference, with a VIP pass, no less, would require collusion near to, or at the top of the chain. Isn’t that so?”

Mendelson shook his head in dismay.    

“Miss Principle, I find this line of questioning highly inappropriate and discourteous. This interview is over.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Mr Ambassador, I never like to be rude,” Diana said. Rising to her feet, she added, “Without good reason that is. I shall see myself out.”

Diana pulled open the meeting room door to find Jean standing right in front of her.  She returned Jean’s former frown and went on her way.

“Who does that woman think she is?” Jean angrily asked, closing the door.

“Who exactly?” contemplated Mendelson.

He called a number on his cell phone.   

“Hi, Mr Schwartz, it’s Brent Mendelson here. I trust you can talk?”

“Go ahead, sir,” a cordial voice responded.

“There’s a reporter who came to see me today by the name of Diana Principle of the Associated Press.  I would like you to check her out.”

The receiver chuckled back at him.

“There’s almost no need to, Mr Ambassador. You likely saw one Diana Prince of the IADC. Since the news outlets are buzzing with the appearance of Wonder Woman in town, I was wondering how long it would take for Diana Prince to show up. They’re known to us for working in tandem. I’ll send you her picture through to confirm it’s the same broad.”

Abdul Alkan pressed his shirt into his trousers. He prepared himself to knock on General Erol’s door when she hollered him in. Her sharp visceral voice vibrated right through his senses. He quickly recomposed his nerve and entered. She was at her desk writing again. He saluted and waited.

“I heard you shuffling,” she said without looking up. “What is it?”

“I-I bring good news, General. I discovered Reza Bayar has been admitted to Memorial Hospital with a suspected bullet wound.”      

“That is good news,” she replied, making eye contact with the lieutenant for the first-time. “You appear to be one of the few efficient officers I have at present.”

“Oh, thank you, General!” 

She removed her glasses as she thought.

“We mustn’t let Bayar outstay his welcome. Lieutenant, assemble the E-Six in Armament Zero. Wait for me there. Dismissed!” 

E-Six stood for Erol’s Six, her primary agents, whom she personally hand-picked for their abilities. They gathered in Armament Zero; a planning room and arms depot along the corridor from General Erol’s office.

Erol arrived wearing a green leather cap of her rank and a black leather cape which draped around her, covering her provocative uniform underneath, right down to the ankles. She disrobed and handed the cape to Abdul who made a mess of folding it in his clumsy besotted manner. No-one took any notice, though, for Erol had everyone’s full attention through fear and lust.

The Six stood in a row as she inspected them thoroughly. Her impassive eyes skimming the bulk and bulges of the agents in green military shirts and trousers.

In front of a bearded operative, she detached a black military looking wand off her ammo belt. The instrument was about two feet long.    

“Fahri, my field leader, who acted like a rookie when a student caught his shoulder in a car door.”

Pulling out of her ammo belt a translucent cylinder with a yellowish glow, Erol loaded it in the rear of the wand.

“Still, where would we be without a captain,” she said. “But what about the getaway driver who let a student get away?”

She was referring to, Little Lia, the only female agent of the Six. A petite young lady in stature but who possessed steely determination. She had frizzy tied back hair and a pleasant smile. Lia specialized in piloting vehicles – any vehicle – road, sea, snow, or air.

Moving along to a furry moustached colleague.

“Then there is you, Remzi?” she asked with a probing eye. “A conman who gets arrested by the police is no good to me – and yet you are resourceful. At least you never ran away.”

Shining the wand’s light beam into the rugged face of the next in line, named Colak, Erol scrolled the instrument’s beam down to the muscular chest of the former semi-pro boxer, reaching his crotch, where she gripped his privates in a way that was inappropriate for even a general.

“Have you lost your balls, Colak?” she catechized, eyeballing him an inch to his face. “My favourite boy,” she whispered in his ear; almost licking him.

Squeezing his crotch further as she watched the soldier strain to keep a straight face in the wake of the excoriating pain to his nether regions, Erol was in open-mouthed delight. As she increased the pressure, he began to perspire, and tears ran down his cheeks. Then, she suddenly let go and moved along.

“I wouldn’t want to excite Baygin,” Erol jested.

Baygin flashed his eyebrows in response.

A slim, dyed-blonde haired man, Baygin was the team’s shadow who spotted Bayar running out of the Kebabs Galore. For the record, he was also a gay psychopath who enjoys torturing his victims, regardless of gender, far more brutally than what he had just witnessed.

The last in the line stood at six feet, nine inches. Gur was an ugly giant of a man with an unkept beard. He drove the silver Mercedes but played no other role in the pursuit of Reza Bayar.

“Gur, Baygin, you two made no mistakes and are dismissed,” Erol ordered. “Lia, you can leave too.”

The three waited in the corridor. Erol continued her judgment.

“Fahri, although you failed, a leader is hard to replace. Colak, you retreated after shooting the target in the back, but Remzi, it was you who made the critical error of submitting to the police that you were a MIT agent under my command!”

Erol took aim at Remzi with the wand’s light on his face! The man knew his fate. He dropped to his knees and pleaded in vain. Erol pressed the trigger button.

Zzzing!!     

A beam of yellowish light encased Remzi where he knelt. The agent’s whole structure started distorting out of form. He began rising upwards off the ground, for his feet and calves were rapidly swelling before splattering into fluid beneath him. Remzi cried aloud. He continued to plead when his head ballooned, exponentially, popping into a hellish amber vapour. The remainder of his body soon followed. His liquid remains quickly dried before the onlookers’ eyes. The yellowish light dispersed into thin air. There was no trace left of him.

“That is what I call a clean death,” said Erol, pleased with her deadly weapon. “This is what awaits the rest of you if any of you fail me again.”

She took her cape back from Abdul.

“Now, I want Reza Bayar dead or alive,” ordered the general. “And If Wonder Woman interferes again, the same goes for her. Alkan will fill you in on the details. He’s just joined E-Six.”

Abdul gulped.       

For Part 4: click here