Wonder Woman in Moscow #7

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.

07 Little thieves are hanged, but great ones escape

The passageway which Diana had followed, brought her to a dimly lit store depot. There were a number of isles with high shelves. At the far corner, there was a loading bay where she watched guards packing various pieces of equipment on to trucks. She crouched down under a shelf for a few minutes listening to a useful conversation.

“Place the Flexigraph by itself on the truck. And speed things up, would you?”

“Okay, Professor Baker – but we’ve only got skeleton staff tonight – and missing men searching for the intruder.”

Professor Baker sounded English. A tall man of tanned complexion with a bald top and dark blonde hair.

“One woman roaming the corridors is hardly the threat we need to concentrate on now. We’ve only recently acquired the Flexigraph and are already in danger of having it confiscated by the authorities, which is why we need to get everything away.”

“The orders came from Mr Osinov himself, sir.”

“Now don’t you get insolent with me, you…”

“May I be of some assistance, Professor Baker.”

“Who the devil are you?”

“My name is Sergei Nosov. We were meant to be introduced earlier in the evening before the timetable was interrupted.”

“You’re the new partner?”

“That’s right – and I can tell you I very much agree with your assessment of the proceedings. A scientist whose work in military-grade cybernetics is as impressive as your own cannot be expected to shut down in the middle of such important work.”

“At last, somebody who understands!”

The discourse continued in a similar vein until the professor was buzzed by Osinov. Nosov offered to accompany him. There was no way of following them in Diana’s own clothes; she needed a uniform. Providence provided a passing storeroom worker for her outreached foot.

“Strip!” she said to him, pointing the crossbow.

A green, baggy, overall one-piece with a handy cap; the uniform was a good fit for Diana’s statuesque frame. She tied and gagged the man with some tape found in the pockets.

Losing the crossbow, Diana made her way to the entrance of the laboratory. Lowering her cap in passing two armed guards, she soon found herself on the main floor of the laboratory next to the cylinders. Osinov came out of the Project Lounge, followed by Nosov and Baker. He held a gun that superficially resembled an oversized water pistol. Diana listened to them while pretending to check a consignment.

“This is what I have in mind, testing the Flexigraph gun by making an example out of Zara,” proposed Osinov, staring 100 feet up at the ceiling.

“My Flexigraph derivative is strong enough to keep her there indefinitely,” the professor claimed.

“That’s bad because I want her to fall into the container of acid.”

“Err, err, I see,” responded the professor, a little taken aback, but still determined to impress. “The way I would do it is by using the other container as a steamer in order to melt her binds before solidifying.”

“Do that, then.”

“You aren’t serious?” Baker scoffed, but he could tell by Oisnov’s stony face, he was very serious. “Mr Osinov, I must protest. This is most irregular.”

“I said do it!”

“I can’t agree to this,” Nosov added.

“Let me remind you, Nosov, you are not a partner yet,” Osnov warned in anger.

“Everyone will see,” said the flustered professor.

“Good!” Osinov rasped. “What better way of discouraging further treachery than the execution of a pretty lady in full view of the workers?”

A gathering of staff, including guards and scientists, assembled on the main floor for the grim spectacle. Diana was able to mingle among them, freely. Her simple disguise was effective when attention was elsewhere and, anyway, nobody suspected the missing intruder to place herself in the centre of the laboratory.

Osinov and Baker peered over the platform at the awaiting acid bath in the container.

“When will we be ready?” Osinov said.

“As soon as the first container is expelling enough steam,” Baker replied, “but we must not let Caro’s acid in the second container be exposed to oxygen for long, as its highly explosive when oxidised.”

“Let’s make a start, then, eh?”

On Osinov’s instructions, Zara was brought forward to the end of the platform by Semanic. She was awake but concussed from getting knocked unconscious. Given what dastardly plans awaited her, this may be just as well.

Diana had seen enough. She hastily made her way into the Project Lounge. The room was empty. Diana’s stretched out arms began to turn in a circle. A burst of light flashed out of the Lounge window, oblivious to the gathering, whose eyes were focused upwards to the execution.

Zara’s cuffed hands were forced above her head. Osinov knelt, aiming the unusual shooter up towards the ceiling, yet in such a way so the handcuffs were in his line of fire. He pulled the trigger.

A gloop of amber gelatine squidged through the chain of the handcuffs forming an expanded line of goo to the ceiling. For a few seconds, Zara stood wondering what had happened in her sleepy state. Then, as the line began to shrink, Zara took off up to the ceiling like a returning yoyo. There she hung, helplessly dangling over the container of acid, ready to plop at any second.

“How long will it take for her to drop?” inquired Osinov, rubbing his hands in glee.

“Within a minute, I should imagine,” Baker told him.

“This is exciting!” Osinov exclaimed.

“Detection!” Semanic droned.

“What is it?” Osinov snapped in irritation for the interruption.

“It’s me,” announced Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman had sprung on to the bridge of the platform facing the others. She noticed Semanic started swaying his feet behind Osinov and Baker.

“Wonder Woman,” Osinov said, “I’m delighted you could join us. Semanic has been built to destroy you. Professor Baker has given him the strength and the skill, which even you’ll find… Aah!”

Semanic had seized Osinov in both hands and raised him above his head. In a thrashing panic, Osinov dropped the Flexigraph gun down below.

“Good lord!” cried out Professor Baker, scurrying over to Wonder Woman.

“What’s happening, Professor?” Diana asked.

“I-I don’t know. His mind must be overriding the circuits.”

“Baker, help!” called Osinov, “He’s lost his senses.”

“NO NEED!” droned Semanic in a raging hiss, “NO NEED FOR YOU NOW!”

The professor took one last look, before running away in fear. The crowd of workers were also dispersing.

“Wonder Woman help me, please,” begged Osinov, “I fear he’s going to kill me!”

However, Diana couldn’t help Osinov at that moment for Zara’s Flexigraph cord was about to break. She leapt in the air off the platform, catching Zara on the way down. They landed safely on the laboratory floor.

“Diana told me I might find you tied up,” said Wonder Woman, breaking her handcuffs.

“Spaseeba!”

Zara’s faculties were returning to normal. She recognised the Flexigraph loaded gun lying metres away from her; it was a prize to be had. She also observed Nosov pacing up and down the Project Lounge.

Semanic proved he wasn’t all robot; he knew his enemy well enough to wait a few seconds longer for her to return to save Osinov. A sardonic smile formed in the corner of his mouth which Diana recognised as belonging to the enemy she knew of old. His appearance had been devastated by scarring and cybernetics, but the black heart of the man was still there. In an instant, he flung Osinov away.

“No, no, noooo, aaah!”

There was nothing Diana could have done for him. Osinov violently hit the side of the inner container, inches above the acid, before bouncing beneath. The malicious head of the Fourth Reich dissolved within seconds; a victim of his own evil doing.

Semanic charged at Wonder Woman. His mighty cybernetic hands going straight for the juggler. Wonder Woman caught them in time and heaved him backwards.

The cyborg came at her, again, this time with downward sweeping arm strikes. Wonder Woman blocked the heavy blows on her bracelets. Semanic threw kicks into an alternating mix. They too were covered by fast bracelet stops. The speed of the assault increased to a rapid pace, capable, only by a machine. The sustained attack was unrelenting. It took all of Diana’s concentration to keep up. Her rhythm was finally broken when one of the strikes chopped her on the shoulder. The cyborg kicked her to the floor.

“So…” hissed Semanic, “the tables have turned!”

“On you!” Diana said, sweeping her long-left leg underneath his feet.

He stumbled back against the side rails. The cyborg’s imbalance usurped control. Wonder Woman side kicked Semanic, twice, back along the bridge. In the wider space of the viewing platform, Diana attempted to complete the attack with a roundhouse kick to the chest. She found, however, Semanic’s incoordination had been a clever deception. He easily swerved the move. Diana reached out with both hands to stop herself from going over the end rail. She felt the force of a cybernetic elbow pound her upper back.

“Aaah!” she exclaimed.

The pain took Diana’s breath away – or the realisation she had been fooled by such rudimentary cunning temporarily stagnated her response. In any case, Semanic tucked his hand under the anterior of Wonder Woman’s left thigh, then, lifted her so she was horizontally facing forwards over the railing. His right hand took hold of the back of her neck and forced her down in sight of the acid death below.

The highly flammable acid solution was beginning to show signs of igniting. Osinov’s body had raised the temperature above the safe threshold.

“I could flip you over the side now,” he whispered in her ear, “but I want you to suffer the worst possible death. I’m going to lower you, bit by bit, into the acid.”

The prospect of a tortured demise at the hands of an evil psychopathic cyborg renewed Diana’s vigour to break free. She gripped the lower rail and hurled herself over the side. It was a straight drop into the acid from where she clung, but using her power of flight, Wonder Woman glided to the safety of the floor; taking cover next to a post.

The cyborg monitored his target’s position with the aid of surveillance cameras fed to his visor. He watched Wonder Woman creeping in between the cylinders. He quietly climbed over the side rail and swung himself down to her.

It would be a perfectly timed surprise attack. Believing she was out of sight, Diana didn’t react quick enough to stop Semanic grabbing her about the throat with both hands. He slammed her back against the container. Fighting for breath, she slowly began prizing his hands apart. Without giving the fiend time to retreat, Wonder Woman ripped the cyborg’s visor off his face.

“Aaaaaah!” droned the menace, letting her go.

Torn cables sparked out of his orbits. There were no eyes or skin, only bone. He was a blind computer, yet not one without emotion.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” he kept repeating.

It was hard to tell whether he was short-circuiting. However, when clenching his fists in anger, Diana knew the man still lay behind the machine.

“Don’t do this, Semanic,” Diana said.

He struck out where he heard her speak. Wonder Woman sidestepped the mighty blow. The cyborg’s right fist pierced the container wall. A torrent of deadly acid surged out at Semanic. He was overwhelmed in a second. Collapsing to the ground where the flood of acid reduced him to cybernetic body parts. These sparked the substance to ignite. The whole laboratory was set ablaze in the wake of the combusting substance.

Diana took one last look at the inferno from the exit. “A shame they didn’t install him with any common sense,” she reflected.

For Part 08: click here