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.
05 Look and See Which Way the Wind Blows
“Black blizzard,” Professor Sheppard chanted from his hospital bed, “Black blizzard, black blizzard, black blizzard …”
“He’s been like this for the last hour,” lamented the resident psychiatrist, “I’ll have to commit him.”
“Keep an eye on him, I’ll have to get the necessary paperwork within the hour,” he instructed the nurse on the way out.
The nurse peered over the reciting patient, by his bedside, and unbuttoned her white uniform at the waist.
“It may not seem like it, at first, but I promise this will do you good,” Diana told him.
She threaded her glistening golden lasso around the blathering professor and gave it a tug. He immediately jerked forwards in resistance.
“It’s all right, Professor,” soothed Diana, “Don’t fight it.”
She eased him down into his pillow, “Let your true self find his way back into your consciousness. Along the way, reveal the journey which brought you here.”
“It’s black,” he spluttered, “Like a blizzard – or maybe ash.”
“Where is it?”
“All around me, in my eyes, down my throat and I remember suffocating.”
His body contorted in panic, “I CAN’T FACE IT!”
“You don’t have to,” Diana said, glimpsing at his high heart rate on the bedside monitor.
She tugged the lasso once more, “Where are you now?”
“With Doctor Bassano at the Cryonic Research Foundation – it’s creepy but fascinating – containers of bodies everywhere. Bassano wants me to meet Warrant Officer Larry who he claims to have brought back from the dead. I see a silhouette of a man, in the doorway, at the far side. I go to ask Bassano if that’s Larry, but he’s no longer with me. I lose my nerve and wish to leave, but a cold, penetrable, gusting wind keeps me moving towards the figure. I’m frightened, I feel so scared …”
Diana shook the lasso, “It’s all right, Professor, sleep well, and when you awake you won’t recall any of this.”
In another room, down the hospital corridor, Roger Macintosh was visiting another patient, Special Agent Nathan O’Connell, who was recuperating from his assault. The captain hadn’t been with the FBI agent, for long, when Diana Prince joined them.
“I owe you something of an apology, Agent Prince” he confessed, “I’ve just come off the phone to headquarters and you and the captain are now to be informed of all events. You should know the agents I met at the Cryonic Research Foundation were all imposters – the real ones were deployed elsewhere – looks like we have a mole.”
“It’s likely Professor Sheppard was the mole,” Diana revealed, “Wonder Woman believes he’s been hypnotised.”
“I’m sure she’s an amazing lady who saved me from that inferno,” admitted O’Connell, “But seriously, hypnotised?”
“Tell me, Nathan,” Diana said, “If the professor had validated Martin Larry’s revival, what were your instructions?”
“To report the news to the President of United States,” he replied, “Wait a minute – this whole cryonic miracle scam could be a way of getting to the top of the US government.”
“Now were on the same page,” Diana returned.
“Whatever is going on, Doctor Bassano is in the frame,” Macintosh added, “I’d like to take a look at his safe deposit contents.”
O’Connell felt his stitches, putting on his glasses, then flipped his gangly legs out of bed, “I still have the authority and I’m well enough to go.”
“Please, let me go, Jock,” whined Chad Bailey from the back of Harrisons’ car, “I’m not to blame for what happened to Petra – she was a maniac – you know that. I just get scared – yeah, I’m a coward, I admit it – let me go, I haven’t the constitution for this …”
“Shut that jackass up!” ordered Harrison.
Jock’s loyal friend, Justin Casey, guarded Bailey in the back of the vehicle. He plastered tape over the captive’s mouth.
“I reckon we should have given this runaway weakling a knuckle massage, hey, Jock?”
“If it were left to me, he’d be eating hospital food for the next month – but the doc wants Bailey delivered unscratched.”
They pulled up, near the university, where the first spec of rain fell.
“I can handle him from here, Justin,” Jock instructed, “You take my car back.”
Harrison led Bailey into Bassano’s office where the doctor was sitting waiting for them. He appeared to be anxiously thinking, resting his elbows on the desk, pressing his opposite fingers together in a pyramid shape.
“We haven’t much time,” Bassano monotonously informed, “Larry should be with us, shortly. I was able to confiscate the body like planned, but with the Cryonic Research Foundation gone, we will have to make do with my private university laboratory.”
“Huh?” grunted Harrison.
“I wasn’t talking to you, moron,” Bassano snapped.
In an instance, Chad Bailey’s duplicitous nature unravelled before Jock’s eyes; he tetchily broke away from the moron’s grip with a new sense of purpose.
“Is the skull membrane prepared correctly?” asked Bailey, anxiously, “I need it to be exactly the right solidity, as described, or we’ll have to abort.”
“Relax, I ensured a constant temperature was maintained in transport from the Foundation,” Bassano informed, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to perform the operation from memory because my assets have been frozen.”
“Oh, man, then I can’t be held responsible for the results,” complained Chad in high pitched frustration.
Confused Harrison pressed his hands against his crown, “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, MAN?” he frantically interrupted, “is any of this going to help me?”
“Certainly,” Bassano calmly answered.
He flicked a switch under his desk. A hidden door in the back wall panelling clicked open. Two men in black suits stepped out into the office.
“I don’t get it?” Harrison scoffed.
“Restrain him,” ordered Bassano, pointing at Jock.
The suits grabbed Harrison’s arms, much to his protests, but try as he might, the semi-pro footballer couldn’t loosen their hold on him.
“Show him,” commanded Bassano.
They dragged Harrison back into the laboratory from where they came.
“WHAT THE… ” Jock cried at a sight he never thought he’d see, “… WHAT’S THIS, MAN? NO, IT CAN’T BE!”
A supercilious bank manager’s no-can-do attitude, miraculously, vanished once O’Connell placed his FBI credentials under his nose. Shortly after, he led the three government operatives into a private room, in which the Bassano’s safety box was waiting for them.
Carefully, O’Connell unlocked the box and lifted the lid. At first sight, the contents was quite disappointing; nothing but a pile of comics.
“Looks like Bassano really does like Superman,” said Diana, flicking through a copy.
“There’s got to be more to it than that,” responded Macintosh.
“Yes, well, my guess is some kind of invisible ink,” predicted Diana.
“Yeah, something of importance must lie between these pages,” agreed Roger.
O’Connell had been taking a call on his phone.
“What’s wrong, Nathan?” asked Diana.
“I’ve got to get to the Boston City Morgue,” announced O’Connell, “It’s emerged that Doctor Bassano walked in with two FBI imposters and took away the body of Petra Maki in an ambulance. The order was only questioned when Bassano became a wanted suspect in the arson of the Cryonic Research Foundation.”
“How long ago?”
“Sixteen hundred hours – Bassano arrived only thirty minutes after the fire – why would he take such a risk to remove a body from the morgue, so soon, after destroying his own property?”
The question hung over Roger and Diana on the Special Agent’s departure.
“We better get these comics to forensics, right away,” said Macintosh, “It might hold the answers were looking for.”
Diana handed her Corvette’s smart key to the NASA man, “Take my car – your bio-identity is already registered – I’m going to walk to Bassano’s university office.”
“Do you think he’d have the nerve to go back there now?” Macintosh innocently questioned.
“Roger, this is the man who just stole a body from a morgue – and he’s going to need to keep it somewhere – where better than the university?”
There was an eerie calm before the storm, on campus, when Agent Prince strolled by. Soon, the cumulous cloud crunched hard, streaking lightning across the skies and a torrent of water deluged on all below; by which time Wonder Woman was safely inside.
Diana was following a local, narrow, air stream that she first felt outside Bassano’s office. It extended down the corridor and under the door of his office. She went through to see papers flying everywhere, while the rain splattered on the glass outside the windows. Diana detected a vacuum coming from the opposing wall. Turning sideways against the wooden panels, Wonder Woman’s sensitive hearing could pick out a man sobbing on the other side. As an experienced agent, she quickly checked the wall lining for a switch, but didn’t find it until she pressed a button underneath Bassano’s desk.
Two built, mean looking, men in black suits came through the panelled opening. They were remarkably polite, silently, gesturing Wonder Woman to enter the room, like ushers. She did so, willingly, and was only half-surprised by what she saw inside.
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