Wonder Woman in Boston #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 utilised. All characters are entirely fictional. With the exception of Diana / Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor, these stories and characters are my own creations, unless otherwise stated. In my stories Wonder Woman is the only known superhero.

WW Dark

03 The Supreme Art of War

Undeniably, the bodies were moving; shaking their heads, elevating fingers and twitching toes. How this could possibly be was of an interest to Wonder Woman, more so than Mac. His frozen trepidation gave in to quick abandonment, furiously, beating on the impenetrable exit. Diana remained inspecting the movements of the figures in closer scrutiny.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Mac cried.

“Oh, just a little experiment,” Wonder Woman equivocally replied, seemingly, unfazed by developments.

Reaching over a male specimen, Diana gently squeezed the drip bag, causing the almost fluorescent green fluid to increase the flow to the body. The effect was immediate; the man sprung his hands towards Diana’s neck. She caught his arms in her hands and eased him back down to rest.

“THEY’RE GETTING UP!” Mac observed.

Gripping the metal side rail, Wonder Woman swung the bed around herself, by its casters. She drove it into the pack of gathering zombies, dispersing them like skittles, either side of the projectile. Mac looked on in a chilling disbelief as he witnessed their injured bodies coursing a steaming hot mixture of dark greenish red blood. An overwhelming, gut wrenchingly awful, stench of death brought him to his knees in a single breath.

“Time to go,” said Wonder Woman, forward booting the door down.

The airstream flowing through the chamber had risen to a full blown gale. A swivel chair bounded along past them and smacked the back wall.

“Stay behind me,” Diana ordered.

Wonder Woman could have run or flown against the palpable force. However, Mac’s safe passage was her priority; and the reason they staggered up the chamber. A lightweight wooden table took to the air, gliding along the passage and colliding off Diana’s upright arm. As they neared the entry, a fire extinguisher broke loose from the wall mount, shooting diagonally down the row, ricocheting against one of the suspension tanks and deflected away by Wonder Woman’s left bracelet. Unfortunately, the tank was punctured; liquid nitrogen escaped into the air stream, just in front of them.

Human contact with the airborne nitrogen droplets could result in cryogenic burning. Conventional bracelet blocks were useless against such a threat. Instead, Wonder Woman chose to cross her bracelets, projecting beautiful golden rays of light in front of her; a celestial force field absorbing all in its wake. The awe inspiring wonder sent Mac from the gutter of fear to the spiritual highs of absolute peace in an instance. It was as if heaven itself was upon them, he would later claim.

Before Mac knew anything else, Wonder Woman was telling him to hold his breath, as he could suffocate from the nitrogen vapours. The hand wheel entry was mysteriously locked, once more, but Wonder Woman simply tore the door off its hinges with two hands. Once back on the staircase, the pair took a moment to breathe again.

In reception, Joe put the phone down as Wonder Woman and Mac returned.

“What have you been doing in there?” he asked in a dismayed tone, “That was the emergency team. They’re on their way over. The remote temperature monitor has been going crazy.”

Wonder Woman turned to Mac, “I think I better go, but thanks for all you’ve done. You’ll be safe, now, whatever force we encountered in there is long gone.”

“Yeah, I’m long gone too – from this job anyway – after this I’m considering being a priest.”

At first Diana laughed, but then her expression looked a little tense.

She placed her hand on Mac’s shoulder, “A priest?”

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After a loud knock on the door of Doctor Bassano’s office, jock Harrison let himself in. Bassano had been waiting at his desk for the student’s arrival. His steely expression told its own story. He peered up at Jock in quiet disapproval.

“I need you to do a job,” he calmly said, “There’s a young woman, by the name of Diana Prince, who Chad Bailey introduced to me, yesterday.”

Jock’s blue puppy eyes circled the ceiling, “Hey, you mean that tall, great looking brunette? Man, what was she doing with that loser?”

“Exactly right, what?” Bassano said, “The way I see it, Bailey was infatuated by her. The unrequited lover comes to you for advice, as a man of sexual prowess. When she turns away his advances once again, he is left humiliated and takes revenge in the only way he knows how…”

Somewhat moronically, Harrison grinned at the neatly constructed fable, flattered by Bassano’s appraisal of him, without realising the dark implications of the ending. To his surprise, they were joined by his girlfriend, Petra Maki. Brightly smiling, she held out a crude looking bomb made of TNT sticks, bundled together, with a receiver attached on top.

“I see Petra has finished her work in the laboratory,” Bassano said.

“This Prince woman is an obstructionist. I want her eliminated,” he snarled, “Do you understand me?”

A distressed Harrison ran his bulky hands through his pale curly hair, “No-can-do, man, I’m not killing nobody.”

Petra giggled, maniacally.

“You’ll do what I say you do,” Bassano insisted, firmly. “Need I remind you, the only reason you’re on this course is because I fabricated your entry test. This is the first time I’ve requested anything back in return.”

Docile to the last, Harrison responded, “I thought you were a friend of my parents?”

“Yes, I am. And how do you think Mummy and Daddy would like it, if they knew their chip off the old block, Jock, barely had the intellect to tie up his own shoe laces, eh?” scoffed Bassano.

He rose out of his chair and patted one of Jock’s bristling biceps, “Besides, I’m not asking you to murder Miss Prince but, merely, to assist in assuring Bailey is in the right place and the right time. Leave the rest to Petra – whose psychotic instincts revel in such destruction.”

“Imagine, Jock, getting through college and playing for the Boston Red Sox,” he continued, “Think how proud your folks would be to know you made something of your life.”

A pact was formed between the trio; Jock didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to sacrifice himself for Chad Bailey.

State House

“Roger, I need you to suspend your sceptical scientific tendencies just for a moment,” requested Diana Prince, over brunch, at the Ritz Carlton Hotel.

“I’ll do my best,” he assured, tucking into his breakfast.

“Okay, I strongly suspect the sighting of Warrant Officer Larry is what might be described as the living dead.”

Macintosh’s looked up at Diana, “What, a zombie?”

“In effect,” confirmed Diana, “At the Cryonic Research Foundation, Wonder Woman discovered dead bodies being drip fed – what she believes to be – a form of ambrosia. This could emanate throughout the body and provide enough energy to support movement. ”

“You didn’t tell me Wonder Woman was in on this – still, sounds farfetched to me,” stated Macintosh with a cynical shrug.

“There are things out there we don’t understand,” Diana cryptically added, “You’ve met Wonder Woman. She doesn’t exactly follow the known laws of physics, does she?”

“I suppose, when you put it like that,” considered Macintosh, finishing his plate.

“Wonder Woman, isn’t she amazing?” gushed Chad Bailey.

The perspiring student stood at the foot of their table, anxiously, awaiting a response. His frizzy hair was greased back and he wore a formal checked suit – way too big for him. Bailey stole a glance at Diana, before his eyes resumed their downward trajectory. Roger also glimpsed at Diana, but their exchange of expressions had a very different meaning.

With a mild grin in place, Roger excused himself, “I need to attend to some business this morning.”

“So… Chad, what can I do for you?” Diana briskly asked.

He sat down, reached for a towel and patted the sweat off his forehead.

“I’ll be honest with you, Miss Prince. I’m out of my depth.” Chad confessed, “For some reason, my sort of friend, Jock, he said if I could get a da-da-date with you, I would be part of his gang. Oh, who am I kidding, I can’t even gain the attention of the girls in my class – never mind a dreamboat like you.”

Diana smiled, “Chad, how did you find my hotel?”

“They knew where you were staying.”

“They?”

“Sure, Jock and his girlfriend, Petra – they got your details off Doctor Bassano.”

“And where are they now?” she inquired.

“They’re waiting outside for us in my car. Please, Miss Prince, come along.”

“Well, Chad, I don’t usually get into cars with complete strangers – but this is one invitation I find difficult to refuse,”

Jock and Petra awaited them in the front of Chad’s Volkswagon Golf.

“Hey, Chadders, I take my hat off to you, pal, I didn’t think you had it in you,” said Jock.

He hit the gas and they skidded away. The Golf twisted wide around the corner. Drivers yanked their car horns and flashed headlights, as Jock weaved through the traffic.

“It’s thoughtful of you to leave marks in the road, so I can find my way back to my hotel,” quipped Diana.

“Shut it, bitch!” snarled Petra, pointing a handgun with a silencer attached, “there’s to be no way back for you.”

The sight of the firearm reduced Chad to a fit of tears, “No-no-n0, Petra, what are you doing?” he cried.

The lights ahead turned red, forcing Harrison to bring the vehicle to a grinding halt behind the other traffic. The sudden jilt was a welcome break for Diana, clasping her hand on Petra’s. A shot fired up through the roof. Chad bolted; leaving his date to her own devices. Fortunately, she wasn’t short of manoeuvres, slicing the gun handle across Petra’s left brow and away she went.

Following Chad into Boston Common, Diana took cover between two great oaks. She witnessed Jock and Petra exit the car, along sidewalk, and enter the park. They ran straight past her. In a clinging pale blue tank top, Petra left little room to conceal her firearm, stuffing it down her denim miniskirt. Diana already knew the lab assistant had no qualms in using it. Checking the coast was clear, she outstretched her arms and span with the grace of a world class ballerina.

Instinctively, Chad rushed across the Common towards the relative safety of the government’s State House. Its gleaming golden dome towered over him, yet for the frantic, puny, student it seemed to take ages to reach. As a keen semipro footballer, Jock Harrison was in his element, tackling Bailey to the ground, just before the perimeter.

On his way up, Jock was swung back against the park’s railings. People in the street stopped at the sight of the statuesque Amazon confronting the brawny punk. Chad thought he must have landed in geek heaven at the sight of Wonder Woman dealing with his adversary.

“Get out of harm’s way, lady, or I’ll put you out of my way,” threatened Jock, “This ain’t your business.”

Wonder Woman’s magnificent ocean blue eyes locked on to him, “Yes, well, I’ve decided I’m making it my business.”

“Let’s go, then!” he roared, charging towards her.

Petra arrived in time to see Wonder Woman holding Jock above her head, like a lightweight human barbell. The lab assistant immediately took out her handgun.

Swiftly, turning Jock into a human missile, Wonder Woman bounced him on top of his girlfriend. However, the cut and bruised psychopath wouldn’t stay down, firing her gun over Harrison’s frame. To her astonishment, Wonder Woman calmly repelled the shots with her bracelets. Petra rose to her feet in disbelief at the failing rounds.

“Freeze, put the weapon down, or we’ll shoot,” ordered a duo of fast approaching cops.

“Back off,” Petra warned, holding up a red detonator in her hand, “I only need to press this button and a parked vehicle goes boom, the other side of the Common.”

“It’s all right, let me handle this,” Wonder Woman told the officers.

“Eh, if you think you can,” Petra snapped back.

Those were the last words she spoke before a fast thinking police marksman, high, on top of the State House, put a bullet through her forehead.

For Part 4: Click Here

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2 thoughts on “Wonder Woman in Boston #3

  1. First of all thanks for the update: from your words we understand that you have your hands full with other things so your dedication is even more appreciated. As you promised, action is starting in this chapter. Some comments:
    1) atmosphere is really from season three 2) Diana attitude is always to protect innocent people 3) females (Petra) continues to confirm to be deadlier than the males and more the brawn than the brain 4) in this story who knows who is really dead and who is only for a while. Thanks again

  2. Hi,

    I get the season three comparison; although it wasn’t a conscious intention. I’m glad Diana comes across as she does, as I have a firm idea of who she should be, and I established specific rules (some quite subtle) when writing her. It’s no secret, I like writing strong (and intelligent) women, but I think Petra maybe the first truly psychotic female. There’s are many strands to this story, which will hopefully become clearer, later, and be most interesting for regular readers like yourself.

    Thanks for your feedback

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