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.
03 Not knowing is Buddha
If the animals could talk, they would have undoubtedly have said to turn away, go no further through the woods, to the cave in the rock face, where danger lurks. Such a warning wouldn’t have been lost on Wonder Woman. Nevertheless, she did step into the pitch black orifice.
Slumped to one side lay warrant officer Larry. Diana knelt down to confirm the worst. A sudden flight of a bat startled her, overhead, and she sensed the impending threat. Two samurai swords came crashing down either side of her, but with lightning reflexes, they were met with clinks from her bracelets.
Her attackers wore black ninja outfits with matching masks. Two more dropped down from the trees. Another, in white, was crouched in the shadows of the undergrowth.
As they charged at her, Wonder Woman leapfrogged the pair. On landing, she sliced a crippling stiletto back-kick into the rear of the ninja’s leg. Ducking the samurai of a facing ninja, Diana claimed her defeated opponent’s sword, which she used to cut her incoming attacker down with.
The ninja in white came fourth into the mix; it was still three against one. They ferociously locked swords with Diana. These were deadly assassins and she needed all of Hermes’ gifted reflexes to keep them from succeeding.
One ninja’s samurai clattered off the rocks where – a half-second before – Diana had been present. Wonder Woman assisted his continued lunge – smack – into the mountain. She swept her samurai low, and curled it upwards like an eagle diving for her prey, so that the injured swordsman never saw it coming.
This left only the ninja in white. Obviously the leader, he seemed undeterred by his fallen warriors who were no longer able to fight by his side. Instead, he showed an extravagant display of finesse as he hammered down the blade alongside a roundhouse kick. He missed and felt a humiliating boot to his backside, sending him cavorting into the undergrowth. Before the ninja had the time to recover, the firm bind of Wonder Woman’s golden lasso fastened tight around him.
“I compel you to tell the truth,” Diana commanded in Japanese, “What is your name and who sent you?”
“Ma-ma my name’s Na-Noboru Takei.”
She could hear the ninja straining to resist underneath his mask. An additional tug jilted him into submission.
“We-we work for The Black Circle. K-K-Kim Kimura, Masato Kimura sent us to assassinate you.”
“I’ve heard of The Black Circle,” Diana admitted, “I believe you have a notorious reputation for being one of the most feared yakuza gangs in Japan. But why does Kimura want me dead, or more pertinently, how does he even know I’m in Japan?”
“We don’t ask why,” Takei confessed, “Kimura got word of your location and we were ordered to eliminate you. That’s all.”
“Were you ordered to kill the warrant officer as well?”
“He was already dead when we found him. We used him as bait.”
“So your mission in Chubu is for no other reason than to assassinate me?”
“That is correct.”
Saturday evening was in full swing at the Black Circle. The atmosphere stirring in anticipation of tonight’s main event: the Swine vs. an audience member brave enough to take on the ultimate sumo wrestler. This fortnightly brutal spectacle generated the club high revenue from illegal betting on the winner. So far, it had ran for over a year without causing the gigantic bundle of muscle and blubber to even break a sweat as he crushed his victims to a near pulp. The Black Circle boasted of the best private aftercare for competitors which, in fact, meant a discreet trip to a colluding crematorium.
Amongst the incontrovertible reprobates who were queuing to witness the sadistic fight, sat Diana Prince at a table in a darkened corner of the bar. The crowds were congregating around the ring downstairs, leaving the bar sparse with occupancy. She carefully watched Noboru Takei address the bartender, ushering him through a staffroom door that automatically unlocked. Covertly, Takei jammed the door from relocking on the hypnotic suggestion of Wonder Woman. However, it would be far more discreet if it were Diana Prince who slipped into the staff only area. At least, this was her intention, until one wild associate stormed the bar in front of her.
“Marsha, what are you doing here?” Diana whispered to herself.
She found Marsha’s attire a little odd, even for someone of her flamboyant nature; she wore a black translucent cat-suit with a light matching undergarment.
“Can I help you, madam?” asked the bartender, in English, talking directly to Marsha’s deep-cut, voluminous cleavage.
“I have a date with the big man, ya know what I mean?” Marsha teased, flicking a manicured lilac nail up his collar.
“Please, go through,” he nervously responded.
“Hey, man, it’s already open,” Marsha notified at the door, “You want to be more security conscious around here, ya know.”
She kicked away the doorstop with her silver boot and proceeded into the staff area, leaving it to lock firmly behind her.
“Oh, Marsha,” Diana lamented, “You can be testing.”
For the second time within five minutes, the barman found himself toying with a beautiful foreigner. In this instance, it was Diana Prince wearing a black strapped dress with a waist high slit, revealing the shapely pantyhose of her thigh.
“At this time of night a girl needs Jack Daniels to save her from the rocks,” she said, rattling the ice in her glass.
The bartender turned to see the particular bourbon was empty; a fact Diana was banking on.
“We’re out of JD, madam. I would check the stock in the back, but I’m not really supposed to leave the bar.”
“Not even for me?” said Diana, fluttering her lashes, playfully.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can find,” he grinned.
He pressed the unlocking switch and left for the storeroom. Diana was quick to follow on behind. Locating the unlocking switch proved no problem at all, as it was only hidden away at the side of the drinks cabinet. The corridor led down into the stores, but Diana took an adjoining upward staircase. At the top of the flight, a glass door required a numerical passcode, which Diana entered, courtesy of Noboru Takei’s earlier hypnotic interrogation.
Peering through another window door, on the upstairs corridor, Diana got her first look at Masato Kimura conversing with two smaller men; one of them was stout and uncomfortable; the other had the heirs of an official. Although Diana couldn’t hear them behind bullet proof glass, by reading their lips, she could tell they were discussing a deal to do with China.
That’s as far she got before she felt the deathly cold steel of a knife lie against the side of her neck. The same passcode was typed into the door’s keypad, before Diana was shepherded into the meeting.
“私はこのスヌーピングを発見,” Noboru Takei informed his master.
“I don’t understand,” said Diana, innocently, “I was looking for the bathroom and I took a wrong turn.”
“You’re an American?” said Kimura.
Kimura fidgeted with his whisker, “MISS CROSS!” he bawled.
Marsha appeared through an internal door to the lounge.
“Do you know her?”
Marsha folded her arms in some measured surprise, “Yeah, babe, I know Diana Prince. She’s an American IADC agent who everybody thought was dead.” (See Wonder Woman in Rome).
“Check the merchandise, Sim,” Kimura instructed.
“I was never here,” warned Mr Lin on his exit.
Kimura quenched his jaw in a kind of angry contemplation. He grimaced, repeatedly, like an upright walrus defending his terrain.
“Do we yet have a second competitor for the Swine’s fight?” asked Kimura.
“いいえ,” said Noboru.
“We now have two ladies for the first time,” Kimura informed, “But you still stand little chance, I’m afraid Miss Prince, women always bring the worst out of the Swine…”
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