Dr. Simmons' corpse had already been cleaned up, naturally. However, Dr. Harris did have some photographs taken of the scene. "They're rather gruesome," he apologized, going to his desk and taking a manila folder from a drawer, handing it to Vicky Sinclair and Chirren Mackenzie, seated at the table.
For all that she was an Arion, Chirren was not all that familiar with death, especially violent death, having served her entire career in Communications. Even after coming to Britain, she had spent most of the remainder of the war at the Government Code and Cipher School in Bletchley Park.
Still, looking at the pictures, she was quickly convinced that they showed the handiwork of an Arion Prime. And, unless there were other Primes left on the planet --- one whom Chirren hadn't heard of --- it could only be Marlen. But Marlen had also disappeared before the end of the war.
"Do you have any photographs of your mystery patient?" Vicky asked the doctor.
"Aren't they in there?" Leaning in between the two women, Dr. Harris leafed through the photographs. Not finding it, he straightened up. "Hmmm, I could have sworn they were in here." Shaking his head, he walked back to his desk. Opening the drawer, he rummaged around. "Ah, here it is." Returning to the table, he placed another manila folder on the table between the women. "When Dr. Simmons was killed, we circulated this picture among the local law enforcement authorities."
Chirren couldn't prevent the gasp as Vicky opened the folder. There was no mistaking the face peering out of the top photograph. A face that she had not really expected to ever see again.
Vicky's reaction was only slightly more subdued, and slightly better vocalized, though it came out as a whisper. "It really is her!"
"You know this woman?"
"Certainly, Doctor." Vicky took a deep breath and swiveled around in her chair to face the hospital administrator. "She is definitely the woman we came for."
Pulling out a chair across the table from the women, Dr. Harris sat down. "Do you think she killed Dr. Simmons?" He started to leaf through the pictures showing the remains of the young blonde doctor.
"I don't know whether she did or not, Dr. Harris, but she is certainly capable of it," Vicky said. Chirren nodded her agreement.
"But how?"
Vicky ignored the question. "We have to tell Michael," she said to Chirren.
Harris produced the police inspector's card and gestured to the telephone on his desk. As Vicky got up to make the call, the doctor turned to the remaining woman at the table. "Why would she kill Dr. Simmons?"
"There are many reasons, Doctor. She... her people, are trained to kill."
"But to kill the attending doctor in a hospital?"
"You said she was unconscious when she was brought in?" Seeing the doctor's nod, she continued, "Perhaps waking up in unfamiliar surroundings..."
"Other patients wake up in hospitals," the doctor interrupted, "and they don't attack and kill their doctors."
Vicky returned to the table. "This woman," she tapped the photo on the table, "is not just another patient."
"But..."
"You might not consider her to be human," Vicky continued over the doctor's interjection. Seeing Chirren wince at the last word, Vicky continued, "We consider her human, but there are some differences."
"Not human? But..."
Vicky rolled on. "How long was she unconscious? Your report said that you couldn't get an IV tube into her. How long could a human," Chirren winced again, "stay alive under those conditions?"
The doctor just stared blankly at her.
"You could have shot her with a rifle and still not have broken her skin." Vicky nodded her head at Chirren. "Tell me, Doctor. Would you consider either myself or Mrs. Mackenzie to be human?"
The doctor turned from the blonde to the brunette, then back. "Of course. You don't expect me to..."
Vicky had gotten up again. Going to the doctor's desk, she picked up a metal letter opener she had spotted when making the phone call. Returning to the table and sitting down, she placed her left hand on the table palm up. Placing the point of the opener against the center of her palm, she started to press.
The metal blade dimpled the fleshy part of her hand but failed to break the skin. As Vicky continued to press down, something had to give. It was not going to be the hand of the enhanced woman. There was a sharp CRACK and the blade broke off about two inches from the tip.
As the doctor stared openmouthed, Vicky closed her hand about the remainder of the implement. "I don't think you could get an IV tube into my arm either," she said, opening her hand to revealed the mangled piece of metal inside.
Dr. Harris finally got his mouth working properly. Almost. "How...?"
"It's a long story, Doctor, and I don't think we have time for that. Let's just say that this woman," she dropped the ruined letter opener and tapped the photo, "is quite capable of killing. And the longer we delay finding her, the more likely she'll be to kill someone else."
"What can we do to stop her?"
Vicky glanced at Chirren before answering. "I think we need to work with the authorities. Could you get us to the police station?"
"I'll drive you there myself." Dr. Harris rose to his feet.
Alone on the road after her brief dalliance with the two young native males, there was no reason for Marlen to keep her pace to a walk. She speeded up to an easy jog. The pace would have left an Olympic sprinter behind, yet the young woman from beyond the stars could maintain it long past the point where a marathoner would have collapsed from exhaustion. Her brief encounter with the two young men hadn't come close to tiring her out. If anything, the encounter had served to energize her.
Long legs flashing as they ate up the distance, she quickly reached the base of the mountains, where the dirt road joined a paved one. Her pace slackened not in the least as she followed the paved road up a valley between two peaks.
She still wasn't even breathing hard when she reached the second switchback and stopped to scan the road behind her. Still seeing nothing that appeared to be a sign of pursuit, she turned and resumed her jog.
A deep-throated roar was coming from ahead around a bend in the road. Recognizing the sound for what it was, she stepped off the road and crouched down to let the oncoming vehicle pass.
A big yellow vehicle came into view. Much to her surprise, it appeared to be filled with little children.
The vehicle was almost abreast of her when she heard another vehicle approaching, this time from where she had just come. This one was smaller and it was moving much faster, even faster than she had. It was also moving erratically, weaving from one side of the road to the other.
The two vehicles appeared headed for an imminent collision, but at the last moment the two vehicles swerved in opposite directions to avert the collision. The small vehicle continued on its way up the road as if nothing had happened
The large vehicle was not as fortunate. Leaving the smooth paved surface, it skidded on the loose surface of the shoulder.
Unfortunately, it was the outside shoulder. Empty air yawned beyond, the slope nearly sheer to the next switchback forty feet below. The vehicle skidded toward the edge, carrying too much momentum to stop in time.
Never mind that they were natives; they were children. Prime or not, she couldn't just stand by and watch these children die. Springing to her feet, she ran after the vehicle and grabbed hold of its rear.
She tried to plant her feet, but the vehicle was too massive and it had too much momentum already built up. Her feet dug twin furrows in the ground as the vehicle continued toward the edge of the cliff. Yet, she had no choice. She continued to hold on in an effort to slow its onrushing progress.
And it was working. The vehicle was slowing down.
But was it slowing down enough? It was still pulling her along, her feet sinking even deeper into the ground as she fought to hold it back.
The front wheels continued to approach the edge. Then the entire vehicle tilted as the front end started to go over the edge. The rear end rose up into the air, almost lifting her completely off the ground.
In the end, that might have been what saved the vehicle. When the front wheels went over the side, the long vehicle bottomed out. The added friction slowed and eventually stopped it before it could go over completely.
The vehicle was stopped, but it wasn't out of danger yet. It was still perched precariously over the edge, rocking slowly as Marlen strained to bring the rear wheels back down to the ground.
Digging one foot of its furrow, she stepped back. She then repeated the process with the other foot. Slowly, foot by foot, she brought the big vehicle back from the edge of the precipice.
It was easier once she had the front wheels back on the level surface, the vehicle riding on rolling wheels instead of dragging on its underside. Retreating until it was well clear of the precipice, she released the vehicle and stepped back.
Several of the children obviously overcome their fear and shock and were looking down at her from the windows nearest to her, pointing at her and chattering away at each other. Some of them genuinely looked scared; others relieved that she had miraculously prevented the vehicle from going over the edge.
Behind the children was an older woman, graying hair pulled back into a severe bun. Marlen instinctively recognized an authority figure, even if one in authority over children.
Still, someone in authority over children would know how to contact others in authority. Authority over other people, other forces. She had already revealed her presence here; she dared not linger any longer.
Turning around, she left the scene. Eschewing the road, she headed directly up the slope, her long powerful legs covering twenty feet with each running stride.
There was no traffic on the next switchback. Crossing the road in two long strides, she continued up the slope. Reaching the next switchback, she paused to look around and to gather her thoughts.
She could just make out the roof of the big yellow vehicle below her. She could also just make out another vehicle. Had it simply happened on the scene, or had it been summoned? Was there at this very moment a search party looking for her?
There was no way for her to know for sure. What she did know was that she had to keep moving.
Sitting behind the two men, Tyreen Mackenzie studied the driver's profile. Peter Collins seemed rather young to have made it to Detective Chief Inspector, appearing to be a few years older than herself.
But then, who was she to judge? Her Arion heritage allowed her to pass for late teens if she wanted to, though in actuality she was a full decade older. In other words, even though she was nearly his age, he probably thought her too young to bother with.
A glance at the hands on the steering wheel showed fingers unadorned by any rings. Now why should that make any difference? She was here to do a job, a job that didn't involve getting a man into bed. So why should she care whether the DCI was married or not? Or if he thought her too young? As long as she got the job done...
She gave her head a quick shake. She was here to help bring in a nearly legendary creature, an Arion Prime. The job was going to be hard enough as it was, without adding unnecessary complications. DCI Collins was just one of the people involved in the job here. Just as Squadron Leader Campbell had been no more than a glorified bus driver and the Royal Air Force Vulcan his bus.
She leaned back and settled into her seat. It didn't do any good to think about Jack Campbell, either. She also banished any thoughts of John Bannon before his image could form in her mind.
The drive to the police headquarters took only a matter of minutes. The desk sergeant greeted DCI Collins by handing him a message slip. Collins glanced at it and then passed it on to Michael Sinclair. Sinclair read it and passed it wordlessly to Tyreen Mackenzie.
Tyreen took it and read it. The message simply said: Opera confirmed.
"So it is her," she said no one in particular.
"So it seems," replied Sinclair.
"She the one you came to find?" Collins asked his guests, leading them to his office.
"So it seems," repeated Sinclair.
"Okay," Collins said when they were all seated, "suppose you tell me what this is all about." He placed a blank notepad on top of a closed manila folder. Holding a pen between his fingers, he placed his hand on top.
"The woman at the hospital --- the one who was at the hospital --- is, or was, attached to my unit."
"Your unit." It wasn't exactly a question.
Sinclair gave the full unit designation of his wartime Commando unit.
"Military." Again, a statement more than a question.
Sinclair simply nodded.
"And this woman," Collins pulled a photograph out of the folder and handed it across the desk, "killed her attending physician and then disappeared?"
Sinclair took the photograph --- the same one that Dr. Harris had just shown the two women in his office --- looked at the face for a moment, then passed it to Tyreen. "She certainly is capable of doing so, though I don't know if she did."
"Perhaps you could explain how your woman could kill in this fashion."
Tyreen just glanced at the photograph as Michael talked. Having only childhood memories of Marlen, she couldn't be sure of its identification. However, she trusted Michael. If he, along with her mother and Vicky, said that it was Marlen, she would just have to have faith in them.
She also wanted a cigarette. She hadn't had one since before leaving Bermuda. Opening her purse, she dug out her gunmetal cigarette case, withdrew a single white tube, and then looked around the policeman's office without spotting an ashtray.
Collins saw her. Without interrupting Sinclair, he opened a desk drawer, pulled out an ashtray, and placed it on the corner of the desk nearest Tyreen.
Taking her lighter from her purse and lighting up, she leaned back in her chair and took a long drag while Sinclair continued to describe what Marlen was capable of doing.
Tyreen had just lit up her second cigarette when there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, a young uniformed policeman opened the door. "These women insisted on seeing you, sir."
Vicky Sinclair and Chirren Mackenzie walked in.
As the two men rose to their feet to acknowledge the newcomers, Chirren gave her daughter and her cigarette a reproving look. That was one Terran habit she definitely disapproved of. She didn't know why her daughter had started doing it, except possibly to be rebellious as children are so often wont to do, be they Terran or Arion. The surprise was that Tyreen hadn't given up the habit yet.
Before the door could close, Collins asked the uniform to bring in two additional chairs.
"So, what do you intend to do?" Collins asked when Sinclair had wound down.
"We intend to pursue her and..."
DCI Collins held up a hand to interrupt. "I can't let civilians get involved in pursuit of the subject."
A hand slammed against the desktop, making it shake and making the people around it jump. "She's not a subject! She's a person, and her name is Marlen!"
Sinclair looked at her and nodded. He then turned to the police officer. "Chir... Mrs. Mackenzie is right. We are not in pursuit of a subject; we are in pursuit of a person. A very special person, one whom, with all due respect, you are not going to catch without our help." He waved a hand to include the three women. "All of our help."
"But civilians, sir, and with all due respect, women..."
"I don't need to remind you that Marlen is a woman," Vicky said. "She served with my husband during the war, Chief Inspector, in combat."
"Mrs. Mackenzie also has combat experience," Michael said, "and has the additional benefit of being the person who knows Marlen the best. And her daughter is a field operative for MI5. I would hardly call them civilians, Chief Inspector, though I would not dare dispute your point on their gender."
Vicky glared at her husband.
"How many more civilians are you willing to risk in your pursuit of the subject, Chief Inspector?" Michael continued. "She's already killed, and every second we delay puts more people at risk."
There was no answer to that question.
Lights were just beginning to come on when she glimpsed the city for the first time. Vehicular traffic was also increasing with proximity. There was no way that she was going any further without being spotted.
Sure enough, one vehicle stopped beside her. The man inside reached across and opened the door on her side. "Need a lift?" he called out.
She looked at the vehicle --- and the man --- as she considered the offer. Being in the vehicle would help conceal her from the pursuit. The middle-aged man certainly didn't appear threatening. He wasn't wearing anything that looked like a uniform, and if he did try to turn her in --- well, she knew that she could handle the native. Casting a look at the road behind her, she shrugged her shoulders and stepped toward the car.
Coming close enough to put a hand on the open door, she hesitated. When he repeated his offer, she gave her shoulders a little shrug and slid into the seat.
The door had barely latched behind her when he set the vehicle into motion. "Where to, young lady?"
"Just to the city," she replied with a wave of a hand, realizing that she didn't even know its name.
"What were you doing out here, all alone?"
"Just walking."
The vehicle didn't slow down one bit as he turned his head to look at her. She could see his gaze dropping down to her short skirt and the long legs beneath them before coming back up to her chest.
The man looked ahead in time to make the swinging turn around the switchback. After that, he paid more attention to the road ahead, though his gaze still returned occasionally to her.
His attentions reminded her that she needed local clothes.
He made no further attempt at conversation until they came down from the mountain and reached the city.
They were well into the outlying buildings before he spoke again. "Where to?" he repeated.
She still had absolutely no destination in mind.
She was still fumbling with the door latch when he turned toward her, putting his arm across her to trap her against the seat.
The two young males earlier in the day had been an interesting diversion. This male was older and even less attractive. Wanting nothing further to do with him, she pushed his arm aside and got the door open.
He obviously had other ideas. Heaving his body out of his seat, he pushed her back into her seat and reached across her to pull the door closed. He then leaned his body toward hers, filling her nostrils with his foul breath.
She let him get almost close enough to touch her lips with his, then reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck.
He tried to close the remaining few inches, only to find that she was somehow holding his head immobile.
There was a cracking sound as she tightened her fingers slightly. His head lolled back on a broken neck.
Still holding him by his neck, she pushed his body back into his seat. Pushing open the door, she started to get out of the vehicle when an idea struck her. Remembering her earlier thoughts about getting some native clothes, she sat back and looked at the man's clothes.
Even though the colors were different, they seemed to be similar to what she had seen on other men. Obviously, they weren't women's clothes, but she had seen some women wearing similar things.
Looking at her fingers, she realized that she had snapped the native's fragile neck without drawing much blood. More importantly, there was no blood on his clothes. After wiping off the little blood on her fingers against the upholstery, she divested the man of his clothes, being careful not to tear the delicate fabric.
Quickly stripping off her uniform, she started to put on the man's outer clothes, not bothering with the inner ones. Naturally, it wasn't a very good fit.
Even though the waist of his trousers fit adequately, the legs were too short for her long shapely legs. Tearing off the legs to shorten them even further left her with a very short pair of shorts.
The shirt didn't fit very well, either. She worked around that by tying the tails together in front and rolling up the sleeves.
She had gone less than half a mile into the city when she became aware of the men shadowing her. They caught up to her near the mouth of an alley, hands roughly grasping each of her arms and propelling her into the darkness. She pretended to struggle as two of the men pinned her against the wall. The third walked to stand in front of her, his eyes running over her body. A fourth one stood at his shoulder, the others arranged in a loose semicircle around them.
In return she ran her eyes over the leader's body. A sleeveless white T-shirt and faded denim jeans encased a lean and wiry body. The red bandanna tied around his head gave him a faintly piratical look. Even though the other two youths were dressed identically, there was no mistaking who was in charge.
"You got toll, bitch? Nobody goes through here without paying toll."
The language was familiar, even if the accent and dialect weren't. She kept her voice calm. "Is that so? And what do you pay?"
"We don't pay for nothin', bitch! We see somethin' we want, we take it!"
Her voice remained icy calm, even as she noticed the difference in his dialect, sounding quite unlike anything that she had heard before. "You won't pay me to let you live?"
Turning his head to the side, he spat on the ground. The other men started to joke with each other as evil men everywhere do, talking about her almost as if she wasn't there, as if she was an object instead of a person. One of them reached out to touch her hair, but her hand flashed up like lightning to swat him firmly away, the man whistling respectfully as he held his stinging hand. But this did not deter them as they all started to press in closer to her, another man finally reaching out to touch her face. She grabbed his hand and pushed him strongly away from herself as well, another man having to catch him to keep him on his feet.
"Whoa, the bitch is strong," the youth teased as he felt himself rocking back on his heels from her kick. He didn't know that she had deliberately kept it soft in order not to injure him. "Hey bitch, you think you're strong enough to handle this?" he boasted, reaching down to hold his crotch. The two youths holding her arms laughed as their leader stepped toward her.
Shaking her arms free and stepping forward, she looked directly into the leader's eyes as she rested a hand on her hip. "Ok, you boys think you're such studs?" she retorted, remembering how disappointing the two men whom she'd already encountered had been. "You really think you've got what it takes to handle me? From what I can see, it would take all of you together to make one decent man."
"Oh, the bitch thinks she's hot!" As if these words were a prearranged cue, two of them grabbed her arms again, hooking their legs inside hers, spreading her legs apart and bending her backward, forcing her up against the wall. She pretended to struggle against them, squirming to get free, but not squirming hard enough to make them let go. They didn't know that she was only playing with them, egging them on.
Coming up to her, the leader tore away her thin shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. "Ah, now that's just the way I like my bitches," he said as he stood in front of her and ran his eyes up and down her long beautiful legs. "Long legs, wide spread, and helpless." He laughed again as he pulled his shirt off, reaching down to suddenly unzip his pants. At the same time, the others struggled with her as they roughly forced her legs even further apart.
Deciding that the game was over, she simply flexed her thighs, overpowering the strong legs of the two holding her, snapping her legs closed again against their exertions. The two strained with their own legs to spread her apart again, but they couldn't budge her. The leader's eyes flashed with anger and frustration, moving closer as he smacked her across the face so hard that her head flew to the side.
"You better be nice to me, bitch. The only way you're walking out of here alive is if you can handle every one of my boys tonight. And I'm first." He stepped back up to her, holding himself in his hand while he tried to force himself between her smooth thighs. His men struggled to part her legs again, but they were having no luck.
Resisting her first impulse, that of smashing the big man's face with her fist, she forced a sexy croon into her voice as she said, "Wait a minute. If this is how it's going to be, why don't we go inside over there where it'll be a little more comfortable? You guys are so big and strong, I'd hate to see you wasting your strength holding me out here in the street. And maybe, just maybe, you guys can even do something for me that the last man couldn't." She didn't mention that there had been two men.
The leader nodded to his men, who thrust her forward to land roughly against his chest.
The leader grabbed the hair at the back of her head with all his strength, bending her over as he forced her though the broken doorway on the other side of the alley, finally throwing her down on the filthy floor. Even in the dark, she could easily see him as he reached down to grab her breast roughly in his hand.
She was quickly startled as he tried to pull her weight upward holding just her breast, smacking her across her face with his other hand. She could hear the other two laughing in the alley as they looked in the windows and waited for their turn with her.
After shrugging off another strong blow, she began to exert herself, grabbing his wrists while using them to pull herself up to her feet. "Ok big boy, if you think you're man enough for this, go for it." She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his body and rubbing her firm breasts against his hairy chest.
He felt a surge of arousal, the bitch's breasts felt so good against him. He could feel her large hard nipples sliding through the hair of his chest, misunderstanding the feel of this amazing woman's chest, believing she was highly aroused. Yet that thought had barely crossed his dull male brain when he felt his wrists beginning to hurt as her grip tightened on them, shocked to discover that she was actually forcing his arms behind his back. Struggling to push her back, he was amazed to find that he couldn't do it. Her arms just bent him backward with more and more strength, his massive muscles flexing vainly in an effort to overpower her. Holy shit, he thought to himself, this bitch is actually stronger than I am!
He was getting confused by the mixed signals she was sending him now. She kept bending him over, intimidating him with her obviously superior strength, yet her delicious breasts never left his chest until the moment when he lost his balance and fell backward onto the floor. He struggled to get back up, but she sat down on his stomach and pinned his arms to the floor above his shoulders. He struggled violently against her with all his strength, but couldn't overcome the firm grip on his wrists.
Yet even as she overpowered him, seemingly so easily, she brought her firm breasts into play again, this time rubbing them back and forth across his face, the fabric of her shirt scratching him as she pressed her deep warm cleavage around him. He didn't like this at all. He was a man and he was supposed to be in charge of his bitches. Still, he was surprised as he felt himself becoming aroused in spite of himself, his body mindlessly responding to this very sexy yet very strong woman. Very aware now of the actions of her lower body, feeling her intimate flesh sliding sinuously over his naked sex, his pulse was pounding as he felt his manhood rising strongly into the air while he vainly told it to go down again. He didn't want it like this. She was so sexy, yet so strong, a combination of traits that made no sense in a woman. The beautiful legs he had been admiring only a few minutes earlier were now gripping his hips with painful force. Straightening her arms, she raised her upper body above his and looked down on him with a cold smile.
Meanwhile, she was pressing her hips against his, teasing his manhood irresistibly until her sex slowly surrounded him, suddenly thrusting her body downward with all her weight. Plunging into the wonderfully tight slipperiness of her sex, he gasped in pain as his body was crushed downward with tremendous force. Feeling as if his manhood was going to be jammed back deeply into his own crotch, he felt the ligaments holding it beginning to tear painfully, searing pain filling his crotch. Yet the woman kept thrusting herself up and down on him with increasing strength, a wave of pain surging through him each time she descended on him, her pubic bone smashing painfully into his crotch. His normally impressive manhood was being pulled up and down unmercifully by the amazingly firm grip of her soft moist flesh, the grip of her sex so tight that he began to feel pain shooting all across his crotch, suddenly afraid that she was going to tear his manhood right off his body.
He also felt a growing pain in his wrists as her grip became so strong that he was afraid she would crush them as well. The agony of her pubic bone smashing down on him was excruciating now, and he yelled for her to stop, struggling harder and harder against her as he felt a wave of hopeless panic rising up within him, finally realizing that she was intent on hurting him and that he had no control over the situation. She obviously wanted his body for sex, yet she was tearing him apart with the violence of her actions.
Despite the beauty of her nearly completely naked body as she pressed herself to him, he felt all remnants of desire leaving his mind --- he only wanted to get away from this crazy woman. Screaming as he felt her labial muscles gripping him so hard now that he couldn't push her away, trapping the blood in his manhood, she was completely in control of his body. Incredibly strong vibrations coursed through his hips as she held him immobile in her tight folds and crushed them inward against him, vibrations that sent waves of pain through his torn intimate ligaments as she leaned over to whip her hair across his face.
He never noticed when the grip on his wrists tightened, her hands gripping him so tightly that the bones in his lower arms were being crushed and splintered. He started yelling for her to stop, PLEASE STOP, until she finally moaned and cried out as she threw her entire body down across his own, a wild climax shuddering through her body.
She lay across the big man's heaving body for a moment before she leaped lithely back to her feet, her body moving in one single smooth movement. Looking down at him, she smiled at the embarrassed and frightened look on his face. His pain turned to embarrassment as he suddenly realized that he had been screaming for her to stop for the last several minutes, and his gang had heard his every cry. The others stood silently in the doorway watching him; watching as his bruised manhood finally shrank, watching as he curled his body up on the floor in a fetal position, attempting to hide from his pain and anguish.
"Ok, who's next?" she asked loudly, turning to face them. "I don't think I'd have any trouble taking on the whole bunch of you, although I'd probably have to get myself off at the end just to make it worthwhile!" She stalked toward them as they retreated before her until they were all back out in the street.
One foolhardy man started to wave his arms at her and began taunting her. "Ok, bitch, you think you can handle me? Handle this!" With that he reached up and tore his shirt off to display his huge, massively muscled body. He advanced toward her with his arms spread wide, watching her eyes traveling over his impressive muscles.
A slight smile crossed her lips as if to say "Two can play at that game!" She reached up to grab the top of her own torn shirt and with a loud ripping noise, tore it all the way down to her waist. Pulling her arms out of her torn shirt, she threw the garment toward him, her upper body now as naked as his. He caught her shirt, pressing it to his face to feel her warmth and to smell her perfume. Now it was his turn to be impressed, his eyes opening wide as she stretched her arms and flexed the strong muscles of her body. The men were all thrilled to see her firm bare breasts standing proudly on her chest as she reached her arms behind her to stretch. As she did so, her breasts rose up until her huge nipples were pointing straight into the air. She didn't show the slightest sign of fear as she met his eyes with her own, even though he was moving closer and closer to her.
It had been a while she had confronted this many men at once. In fact, she knew that she had but in her befuddled mental state, she couldn't recall the circumstances. Yet, her confidence surprised even herself. She was still bubbling with energy from the overpowering and humiliating effect she had had on the first man, and felt stronger than she ever had before. She also knew that ripping off her top and throwing it to the man would guarantee that she would hold the men's full attention.
The man who had been challenging her suddenly rushed toward her, his huge hands reaching out to crudely grab one of her breasts, twisting it with his full strength as he shoved her back, smashing her up against the wall of the alley. His massive muscles flexed again and again as he twisted her breast upward, his arms so powerful that she felt her feet almost coming off the ground, most of her body weight being suspended by only one firm breast.
She was feeling no pain as she quickly responded, twisting her body downward until she could reach her hand between his legs and grab his balls. "Ok, asshole," she growled, "you want to hurt me... let's see what's stronger, my tits or your balls." Without waiting for an answer, she started to grip his nuts just as hard as he was squeezing her breast. His shocked eyes grew wide and his mouth twisted in agony, yet the sinews of his forearm flexed even stronger as he tried to maintain his grip for another few seconds. Unfortunately for him, the pain of her matching grip was far too much for him. He finally had to jerk his hand away from her breast just as she slowly lifted his entire body into the air by his crotch. Reaching down with both hands to grab her arm, trying to take the weight off his balls, he desperately tried to pry her hand free. But his powerful hands couldn't make the slightest dent in the strong muscles and tendons of her relentless arm as she lifted him higher and higher into the air.
When her hand was finally level with her chest, she smiled cruelly at him and strengthened her grip until her hand closed completely. The force of her now super grip would have been enough to crush soft metal, but only the fragile flesh of the man's balls was there to resist her strength. His screams echoed down the alley as her hand closed remorselessly around him, not stopping until her fingertips touched her palm.
She finally threw him backwards so hard that his body fell heavily across another member of the gang, the man curling up and groaning on the ground as he reached down to hold himself, flinching in agony as he covered the crushed remains of his manhood.
Yet another man jumped forward and slashed out with his fist to catch her in the side of her face. She didn't even try to evade or block the punch, bracing her neck against the blow instead. He was a powerful man, a boxer, and the power of his punch banged her head against the wall. She was momentarily dazed, but did her best to act as if nothing had happened.
"Touch me again, asshole," she said, "and I swear you'll never use that arm again."
He laughed and swung his fist again, this time straight at her nose. His previous blow had clearly stunned her for a moment, and he was sure that he would now finish her off. However, instead of his fist landing against her face, it stopped dead, smacking loudly into her open hand.
She pushed his arm backwards as she gripped his fist in her hand so tightly that she could feel his bones bending. The muscles bulged all over her arm as they lent power to her grip, her fingers tightening until his knuckles started to crack and pop. He kicked his foot out at her but was only rewarded with a flash of anger in her blue eyes. Suddenly gasping, he felt waves of sharp pain radiating outward from his fist as her powerful grip began crushing all the bones and knuckles in his hand.
She was still crushing his fist in her grip when she twisted his arm violently around until she heard something tearing in his shoulder. His face was a mask of pain as she felt several more soft popping noises as she tore the ligaments of his shoulder apart while twisting his arm around the wrong way. He stumbled and fell to the ground, holding his torn and broken arm while cursing loudly.
One of the other gang members immediately swung his fist into her stomach. Yet instead of doubling her over as he had expected, he felt his fist bounce painfully off the hard plates of her abdominal muscles. He whirled around to deliver a karate kick to her solar plexus, only to feel the tremendous blow radiating intense pain up his own lower leg. It felt for all the world as if he had just kicked a concrete wall. He spun around again and lashed out with his fist to catch her by surprise, slamming his hand into her face.
Her strength was now growing as she overcame punk after punk, easily shaking off their blows before stepping forward to wrap her arm around one man's neck to hold him closely. The man struggled violently against the huge biceps that flexed against his throat, but he was totally unable to stop her arm tightening around his neck. He reached up and felt the largest and hardest biceps that he had ever felt on a woman flexing ever larger and larger against his neck, her hard muscle pressing sharply into his windpipe until he couldn't breathe. She couldn't hold herself back now as she flexed her massive biceps to its maximum size. The pressure on his neck suddenly grew so great that she heard a crunch as his neck was dislocated and his body went totally limp.
She dropped the unconscious man to the ground as two of the remaining three men finally overcame the astonishment that had paralyzed their actions, and they rushed her at the same time. Her hands flashed out and grabbed them by their wrists, her strong arms flexing with both size and power as she bent them backwards and down toward the ground. They struggled and flailed against her hard body with their other fists, but she easily overpowered them until their knees collapsed. They sank to the ground, finally yielding to her submissively, their final goal being simply that of trying to prevent her from breaking their wrists.
By this time, she was really starting to get into the power she had over these pathetically weak men. They were used to terrorizing the people around them, but they had no experience in being overpowered themselves, especially not by a naked woman. Reaching down, she grabbed the two men by their necks and lifted them both up into the air over her head. They struggled and clawed at her with their hands, trying to loosen her grip, but they might as well have been trying to undo a stainless steel collar. She felt their hands struggling to get a grip on her arms as she held them effortlessly in the air until they began to pass out from lack of oxygen, finally dropping them roughly back to the ground next to each other. Stepping forward, she closed her powerful thighs around both of their heads. Every time they struggled, she squeezed her legs together harder until they knew that they were in real danger of her crushing their skulls. Their hands were running up and down her legs, the frantic attempts to free themselves proving totally ineffectual against the hard-flexed muscles of the woman who was holding them fast. The men struggled to escape with all their strength, but quickly learned that they were far too weak to have any chance of removing themselves from her viselike grip. They finally cried out in pain and gave in.
Smiling, she finally relaxed her grip to let them flop to the ground, the two of them crawling over to join their fellow gang members. "OK, anybody want any more of this?" she asked with a tight smile on her face as she faced the four men who were still conscious, her hands on her hips.
The men knew that they were in really deep shit now. They had never heard of a woman this strong before, and they felt very panicky. They had each proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that there was nothing --- absolutely nothing --- they could do to hurt her. They turned and ran down the alley toward the street, but she leaped after them and her strong legs allowed her to overtake them quickly. She got well ahead of them before turning and stretching her arms out to stop them in their tracks. "My, my... You can't leave me now, boys," she said. "I'm just starting to get warmed up to you."
The men were staring at her in shock by this time, unfortunately the dumber men still had some fight left. Suddenly leaping upward one last time in an attempt to overpower her, her leg flew out to cut their legs out from under them so fast that they hit the hard ground before they even knew what was happening. She buried her hands in their hair and smashed their faces into the ground until they cried out for her to stop. When one of them tried to get back up, she smashed her foot into his back to crush him back to the ground. They tried to get up several more times before they eventually realized the futility of their last hope of escape.
She was looking down at these pathetic beaten men when she felt an incredible blow against the back of her head. A riot of stars filled her vision as she staggered and crumpled painfully to her knees. Trying to turn her head, another incredible blow smashed her forehead down against the pavement. She felt blow after blow across her back, the pain almost overwhelming her, a heavy boot smashing into her back, flattening her chest against the ground.
Her long black hair was splayed across the filthy pavement as she started to rise slightly, muscles tensing as she pulled her legs under herself and staggered unsteadily back to her feet. "Stars, what did you do to me?" she demanded as she twisted her body around.
Standing straight back up with eyes blazing, she focused on a very surprised man who was holding a slightly bent tire iron in both hands, the heavy type of iron used by truckers. Reaching out to struggle with him for a moment, she finally snatched it away from him and held it up at eye level. The men all stared open mouthed at her as they heard the steel creak and groan, watching the impossible sight of her bending the tire iron into a U-shape. Her arms were flexing impossibly as the inch thick steel bar yielded to her amazing muscles, finally stepping up to the man who had wielded it to bend it around his neck until his eyes began to bulge. She then twisted the ends together to form a crude collar and pushed him forward to sprawl with the rest of the men as they sat huddled against the wall. Smiling, she briefly speculated about how he was going to get that thing off his neck.
Her speculation was cut short. She felt a hand roughly grabbing her shoulder, her body suddenly twisted violently around by yet another gang member. These guys were coming out of the woodwork.
This gang obviously had more members than the few she had started with, and new ones were happening by and foolishly springing to the rescue of their home-boys. This man's arm flashed forward as he plunged a long cruel knife into her bare stomach. Fortunately, she saw it coming and quickly flexed her abdominal muscles, making them as hard as she could. The sharp blade struck the hard ridges of her abs as the man put all his weight behind it, a sharp prick of pain and tremendous pressure building against her stomach before the blade snapped in half. They both looked down as the shattered blade tinkled to the pavement.
A wild rush of power coursed through her body now as she looked down at the broken blade, hardly daring to breathe as she realized that her abs had just proved to be harder and stronger than the blade of that huge knife. She was also starting to get really pissed now. Trying to beat and rape a woman was one thing; but this guy was trying to kill her. She didn't even pause to consider her actions as she angrily swung both her fists down on his shoulders with such force that his collarbones shattered and his ankles broke as he was slammed down against the pavement. She reached out and grabbed the front of his jacket with one hand, lifting and throwing him more than fifty feet backward down the alley, his body tumbling in midair until he finally fell through the open top of a dumpster.
Walking angrily toward him, her blood felt as if it was boiling in her veins. Reaching the dumpster, she bent down to pick up the massive container, lifting it high over her head. The man tried to scramble out of it, but she kept tilting it to throw him back inside, toying with him as she held half a ton of steel and garbage over her head. Finally tiring of her game, she flexed her shoulders strongly, throwing the thousand pound object across the alley to smash into the opposite wall. The violent impact partially crushed the dumpster, but not before the man flew out of it and landed on his face on the asphalt.
The stunned man was just rolling over painfully, still trying to get to his feet as she walked slowly toward him again. His eyes traveled across her arms and legs, staring pitiably at the pumped-up muscles that bulged from her efforts. He was suddenly terrified, finally realizing that she was many times stronger than the whole group of them put together.
He suddenly felt something break inside of him as she stopped in front of him, unable to help himself as he looked up to see her powerful, beautiful legs towering over him. His hands seemed to be under someone else's control as they reached up and began to fondle the steely muscles of her powerful legs as he begged her to let him live. He felt like a small kitten faced with a Bengal tigress, running his kisses up her thighs, worshipping each of her hard muscles, pleading for her to spare his pitiful life.
This time, she felt no mercy. He had tried to use deadly force against her, and she knew he would do it again, the next time to someone who couldn't defend herself. She would allow no jails, no courts, just cold street justice. Reaching down for him, she grabbed his belt and lifted him up into the air. Raising her right leg upward, she rested the middle of his back on her upraised thigh, placing one hand on his upper chest, grabbing his crotch with the other, holding him with her arms outstretched. Gritting her teeth, she began raising her muscular thigh slowly upward, looking not at the man in her grasp, but glaring coldly back at all the rest of the men's staring eyes.
The man's body started to bend the wrong way as his back bent painfully over the hard muscles of her powerful thigh. Continuing the inexorable flex of her muscles, slowly raising her thigh higher, the grotesque bend in his back suddenly became too much for his spine to support, a loud crunching noise signaling the end of his resistance. Raising her thigh smoothly up to her chest, the man's body was suddenly bent completely in half the wrong way. Finally raising him into the air by only his crotch, she threw his lifeless body into the crushed remains of the dumpster.
The men staggered to their feet in a panic as she walked back their way, trying to run past her as they wanted nothing more than to escape this crazy woman. Reaching their car as it was parked near the end of the alley, they jumped in and squealed the tires as they raced toward the street.
She wasn't quite ready to let them leave just yet. Her legs blurring as she ran after the car, she caught up to it before they had gone half of the way down the alley. Grasping the rear bumper and planting her feet, she pulled.
A tug-of-war ensued, the tires squealing on the pavement as the two hundred horses of the Detroit engine tried to pull the four thousand pound vehicle out of the woman's barehanded grip, her fingers digging deep furrows into the chrome steel as they tightened their hold.
The tires started to lose their traction as she started to lift the entire rear end of the car up off of the ground. Then there was a tortured squeal of metal as the bumper came off in her hands. The suspension bottomed out as the car fell, the oil pan cracking as it hit the pavement. The car bounced a couple more times before the tires dug in, squealing and laying down rubber as the car moved away.
In disgust she drew back an arm and let fly, throwing the bumper as if it were a javelin. It struck the trunk of the fleeing car, glanced off, and struck the back window, spraying the interior of the car with glass.
The car continued moving, the occupants ignoring off the broken glass and the minor wounds that they caused. They almost had it made when they saw the naked woman appear suddenly in front of them.
The driver smashed his foot on the brake and the car screeched to a stop a few feet in front of her. The gang suddenly knew they'd had more than their fill of this woman for one night, they just wanted to find somewhere safe now. Seeing their way blocked, the driver threw the car into reverse and backed up, a soft BUMP stopping the car suddenly. Looking forward, the driver saw the woman in front of the car, bent over to hold the front bumper. She quickly astounded them all by lifting the front of the car slowly up into the air. Shifting to first gear, the driver raced the engine madly, trying to get away by running her over. The car went nowhere, the rear wheels spinning futilely against the pavement.
The men were all screaming in terror now as the car tilted higher into the air until she had lifted the front of it completely over her head. Stretching her arms up, she suddenly shoved the car down and away from her, sending it crashing to the ground nearly twenty feet in front of her. The tires bounced and squealed as it sped forward again, the driver suddenly seeing the naked woman standing in front of them again. This time, in his panic to get away, he figured he'd just run the woman down. He had no idea how big a mistake he was making.
The car accelerated to almost thirty miles per hour before it reached her. Expecting the woman to jump aside at the last moment, she shocked them by standing her ground until the car smashed headlong into her. Everyone in the front seat was suddenly thrown halfway through the windshield --- the impact as severe as if they'd just hit a brick wall. The front-seat passenger lay across the hood for a moment before he looked up groggily to see that the front of his car was now crumpled around the woman's body.
The men were all just barely coming around when they looked up to see the woman reaching down to grab the front bumper again, lifting it effortlessly off the ground with one hand.
"Everybody out, now!" she shouted as she reached her other arm underneath the car and lifted the whole thing over her head. The doors opened and they all tumbled out of the car or jumped off the hood. They barely made it before the woman ran down the alley and into the street with their car held high over her head. Leaning her arms behind her back, she gave it a mighty toss, the car flying high up into the air.
The two cops were just getting out of their squad car to investigate reports of screams in the alley, when they suddenly saw a car flying out of the alley, climbing over their patrol car until it smashed into the concrete culvert behind them. Momentarily blinded as the gas tank burst into flames, they grabbed for their radios and called for backup. If whoever --- or whatever --- was in that alley was capable of launching cars over their heads, they had no desire to handle this situation alone.
Meanwhile, waiting for backup, the officers grabbed their shotguns and turned back around just in time to see a tall naked woman chasing a couple of gang members as they ran out of the alley and into the street. The men suddenly stopped and reached into their belts to pull out a variety of handguns. Turning back toward her, they started blazing away at the woman, who had now slowed and was just walking calmly toward them, seemingly completely unconcerned about her nakedness. The policemen expected her to dive for the ground, but instead were astounded to see her simply stop and put her hands on her hips.
She gently flexed her stomach and chest muscles to let the bullets bounce off her, closely watching the ones that ricocheted energetically enough from her hard muscles to hurt someone. Turning her body slightly to make sure that the spent bullets missed the uniformed newcomers, she stood and absorbed all the punishment they could inflict on her, the bright flashes of the ricochets visible in the darkness of the alley.
The cops were astounded as they stared at her. They could hear the sharp pings as the bullets ricocheted off the harder parts of the woman's body, quieter thumps indicating when they hit the softer parts. She finally walked slowly forward into the stream of bullets until she could reach down to place her hands around the guns, most of the men still firing at her at point-blank range. She closed her hands around their hands, crushing their shattered fingers and steel together into a twisted mass of flesh and scrap metal.
Unfortunately, she was too busy handling the men with the guns to see the other gang member who was standing in the shadows and aiming a powerful hunting rifle at her. Firing at her head, he was rewarded with a bright flash, the bullet appearing to hit directly against her ear. Shouting with relief, he saw the woman stumble and fall to her knees, her hand whipping up to hold the side of her head.
Marlen felt an incredible stinging pain as the powerful bullet landed completely inside her ear, the impact sending a wave of dizziness through her, so much so that she couldn't stay on her feet. Stumbling to her knees, she rubbed her ear rapidly while shaking her head, grabbing the smashed bullet from her ear canal with her fingernails. With her ear still ringing from the impact, she looked back toward the man with the rifle, even angrier than she had been before.
Two bright red beams suddenly flashed out of her eyes. The gang member had just enough time to let out one scream before his entire body was all but vaporized in the intense heat of the beams, heat that rivaled that of the sun.
The other gang members froze in place, their minds having difficulty believing what their eyes had just seen. They died in place as the red beams of death turned toward them, incinerating them where they stood.
The two cops were just as stunned by what they were witnessing. They dived for cover behind their car just as the last of the beams played in their direction. In the process of turning off her heat vision, the beams were still intense enough to char the paint on the side of the car.
When nothing else happened, they crawled out to find the alley empty. There was nothing left of the gang members. The woman gone.
"What the hell was that?" one of them asked, looking at the charred paint on the side of the patrol car.
He got no reply from his partner.
Her head was spinning, and her body was feeling incredibly energetic from her confrontation with those men. Surprisingly, she was really turned on from using her strength and other powers that way, destroying that gang the way that she had.
Still, a corner of her mind knew that she had drawn too much attention to herself. She quickly returned to the filthy little room where she had left her clothes.
The clothes that she'd taken from the native were completely ruined. Having no other choice, she reached for her Arion uniform, knowing that it would make her conspicuous. She would have to get some other clothes. Again. And the sooner the better.
She'd just finished putting on her uniform when a sound caused her to whirl toward the door, one hand tugging down the hem of her tiny skirt while the other brushed the hair out of her face.
A man dressed in blue from head to toe was crouched just inside the door. The weapon in his hand was aimed directly at her, but he wasn't shooting her. Yet.
Instead, he told her, "Freeze! Hold it right there!"
She did as she was told, standing motionless.
A second man --- also dressed from head to toe in blue --- came into the building. He paused briefly to look at her, then edged along the wall, circling around to get behind her.
She was just starting to turn in order to keep him in sight when a sharp command from the first man froze her in place again.
Getting behind her, the second policeman holstered his revolver and pulled the handcuffs from his belt. Holding the cuffs in his left hand, he reached with his right for her upraised arm. Grasping her forearm, he pulled. Instead of pulling down her arm, he nearly lifted himself off his feet.
As he continued to tug on her arm, a corner of his mind noticed how her arm felt like steel wrapped in silk.
That moment passed quickly as she moved her arm, shaking him off, almost knocking him off his feet.
Quickly regaining his balance, he reached for her again. It took him half a moment to realize that she wasn't there any more. He looked around, only to see her standing behind him. He reached for her again.
She was quicker, much quicker. Her arm flashed out, pulling the handcuffs out of his hand. Turning them over in her hand, she briefly examined them as if she had never seen their like before.
Before his partner could say anything, he made a grab for his cuffs. Using her free hand, she gave him a shove him in the chest. He ended up on his ass after traveling nearly ten feet backward.
Sitting on the floor, he looked on as she hooked a forefinger in each cuff, the short length of chain hanging slack between them. The chain jingled softly as she pulled the rings apart, taking up the slack, still holding the cuffs with her fingers.
His jaw dropped as the chain snapped, the steel links proving to be no match for the strength of a woman from the stars.
She looked briefly at the two broken halves before letting them fall to the floor at her feet. Turning around, she started for the door.
The first policeman --- still crouching by the door --- finally reacted. "Hold it right there!" he commanded, straightening up and blocking the door.
She just kept on coming. Still holding his revolver in one hand, he reached out with his other arm and tried to grab her.
He quickly found himself leaving his feet as she avoided his grab, instead grabbing his wrist and flinging him over her head.
By the time he rolled to a stop and looked around, the girl was gone.
Picking himself up, he ran to the door, ignoring the pain in both legs. He looked both ways, but there still was no sign of the girl.
Limping back inside, he tended to his partner. Though severely shaken up, neither man was seriously hurt, except perhaps for their egos. And his legs --- they were sore but at least they weren't broken.
It was then that they discovered the naked body of the ganger over by one wall. What was left of him, at any rate. He was in even worse shape than were the gangers outside.
Having already seen the girl in action, they didn't need to call in a detective to determine what had happened.
Still, it was hard to believe that one woman could have done all this. She had appeared unarmed --- there was no way she could have been carrying any weapons inside that tight little red dress of hers. And yet, what had caused those burning flashes of light? It was like something out of a pulp magazine --- a death ray or something.
How were they going to explain that in their report? A woman with a death ray? Who would believe that?