Cat And Mouse: The Terrorist Part 1 free porn video

Note - To all fans of "Cat and Mouse" (you know who you are!) Sorry for the unusual delay posting this chapter, but I've got a number of excuses I won't bore you with here. The most compelling reason is half way through this thing I realized it was going to be much longer than the other episodes unless I cut something out. Being a stubborn sort, I instead divided the episode into two parts and added a lot of exposition to this part. So what follows is about 50k of pure talk. I think it's rather interesting talk, and I hope you will as well. Please be assured the action quotient will get a serious uptick next episode, as will the TG content as well. Cat and Mouse: The Terrorist Part I By Bluto The following item appeared on page 57 of the New York Times: Dead Muslim Extremist Leader Implicated In Escape Of Terrorist Suspects In The Philippines. The escape of more than 50 inmates, including many suspected members of the al-Qaida-linked Abu Sayyaf Group, from the Basilan Provincial Jail in the southern Philippines earlier this week, has taken a bizarre twist. Witnesses now claim that the armed band who broke into the jail, killing eight guards in the process, was led by Akbar Sali, who was positively identified as a suicide bomber who died while killing more than 100 westerners in a nightclub explosion last month. Sali, wanted by Washington in the deaths of two American hostages, made the claim before the nightclub blast that he would be "returned to life by Allah to continue His jihad against the West." The witnesses at the jail said the leader of the gunmen was definitely Sali, who has some rather distinct facial features which they recognized. Philippine officials would not comment on what having what to some at least appears to be an immortal leader will do for Abu Sayyaf, which had been losing members rapidly lately. *** Mick couldn't believe his eyes. There, right in front of him, was the idol of Malato-Zu, one of the oldest man-made objects on earth and the means by which his friend, Cat, had been turned from Katherine Filin into a man-eating demon. Cat was seemingly dumbstruck and even the quick-witted little detective was at a loss for words. But The Medium, her arms folded in front of her chest, was eyeing both of them and apparently expected some kind of an answer. "Eh, what's that?" Mick said lamely. "Looks like just an ugly little statue to me. We aren't on The Antique Roadshow are we?" "Cut the humor, this is serious," the Medium said, suddenly losing her Valley Girl speech and sounding more like the intelligent young woman she actually was. "This little item was part of yesterday's report on the Gamboli murders that I didn't show to the general audience. One member of the archeological expedition kidnapped by Wazuri was never found, a black female archeologist named Katherine Filin. She disappeared in a cave-in at the dig and was assumed dead. Weeks later, after the area settled down, another expedition was sent by the State Department to recover Ms. Filin's body. They dug for days but never recovered a body. What they did recover was this old idol, a curious mixture of fertility and death symbol called, so I have heard, Malato- Zu. No one knew what to make of it, so it was sent here, to my mentor, to study." Cat finally seemed to recover from her stupor. "And what does that have to do with me?" she asked. "Ah've nevar been to Africa, so what connection could ah have with yoah crappy lil' statue?" "The connection, my dear Cat, is that you and this statue give off an identical aura," the Medium said. "Reading auras is new to me and I wasn't sure about it until yesterday, when you were fighting Robichaux. When you had him helpless on the floor and were ready to use your claws on him, the aura you gave off was exactly the same as that given by the idol. It was as if something was taking over your body and it didn't ease off until Mouse calmed you down. This was also the same aura I felt when we went to examine Salvatore Gamboli's house. It was faint, but it was there." "I, I, I don't know what to..." Cat stammered. Then Mick and the Medium both noticed something awful. Cat was beginning to quiver and vibrate and her body started to glow with a sickly green light. "Oh my God," the Medium said, as she shielded her eyes. "The aura! It's getting so strong! What's happening?" "Malato-Zu is coming," Mick said, without hesitation. "And that's not good because if I don't do something to stop it, I'm afraid she'll kill everyone in this room." Mick dashed to Cat and, putting his own fears aside, grabbed her head in his hands to get her attention. "Cat, Katherine, there's no need for this," he said. "You can't kill the Medium and Lupe. You never kill females. And, if you kill them, you'll have to kill me too, because I couldn't live with innocent blood on my hands. And it would be on my hands, because if it wasn't for me you would never have met them. Katherine, please, take over again and I promise you we'll work this all out." By this time Cat had grown several inches and her muscles were becoming so thick she was close to bursting out of her costume. Her face was beginning to elongate and her body was growing thick, tawny fur. But she looked at Mick and seemed to come to her senses. She smiled and licked his chin with her rough tongue, then she collapsed to the floor unconscious. Lupe, who hadn't said a word so far, started to cry. Mick gathered her to his arms and hugged her tightly. "It'll be alright, sweetheart," he said, as he smoothed the little girl's hair. "Cat won't hurt you, never in a 1,000 years." "Bummer, man," the Medium said, as she nervously jammed several sticks of chewing gum in her mouth. "I had no idea that was going to happen. Shit, what DID happen?" "You almost released Malato-Zu upon the world," a voice said from the back of the room. "I told you to be careful, but I guess some people only learn from experience." The speaker was a dark-skinned, bearded, middle-aged man, attired in a wizard's robe and conical hat. He had a round, smiling face and he puffed away on an ornate pipe filled with Mexico's finest, as if totally unconcerned about what had almost happened. Mick had no idea where this character had come from, and his slightly ridiculous outfit made Mick smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. "Mouse, this is The Ole Perfesser," the Medium said -- "my mentor and guru -- and Lupe's grandfather." "Hi, Pop-Pop. Were you scared of Cat, too?" "Oh, the Cat's a scary lady, that's for sure," he said. "But I suspect we don't have anything to worry about as long as Ms. Mouse is here. Am I right, young lady?" "I can usually keep her under control, but I can't guarantee anything," Mick said, as Lupe ran from him to her gramps. "And where the heck did you come from? I didn't see any doors opening for you." "Actually, I was here all along, you simply couldn't see me," the man said with a grin. "My specialty is illusions, just as Gaby's there is for seeing the future. I'm not just sure yet what Lupe can do." "Wait a minute," Mick said after a long look at the man in the magician's garb. "Aren't you Louis Sanchez Basilio, relief pitcher for the Amazin' Mets? Oh man, I loved that team." "Heh, either you are a lot older than you look or you are a real baseball fan," Basilio said. "That was a long time ago. I didn't think anybody remembered me." "Well, my father was a big fan of the Mets, kept all kinds of souvenirs that he shared with me," Mick said. "I have a pretty good memory so it wasn't any problem recognizing you. The Ole Perfesser, eh, is that some kind of tribute to Casey Stengel?" "Oh yes," Basilio said. "As the Mets' founding manager, you might say Mr. Stengel was my guru for three years. Did I ever meet your father?" "Is that the same father who died in the pet food explosion?" the Medium interrupted with a sneer. "Ah, you know that story was pure bull, err, crap," Mick said, remembering Lupe was still in the room. "Cat called herself improvising all that and I had to play along." "So, who are you, really?" "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep that a secret for now," Mick said. "Let's just say I'm a friend of Cat, probably the only friend she has." At this point, Cat began to stir. She had only partially transformed to her demon persona, so it didn't take her very long to recover from the effects. It didn't take her very long to realize that her secret wasn't so secret anymore, either. "Cat's out of the bag, eh Mouse? Ah shit." "Are you Katherine Filin, the missing archeologist, somehow transformed into this cat woman?" the Ole Perfesser asked. "Please, don't be alarmed with my presence. I am a friend of the Medium and I hope to be your friend as well." "Yeah, that's me, or rather, that's who I used to be," Cat replied with a slump of her shoulders. "And, yes, before you ask, I'm the one who killed all the Gambolis. And all those people in Africa, too. Hundreds of people, all dead because of me. Are you going to turn me in now?" "Wait," Mick said, before anyone else could speak. "She did those things, yes, but she couldn't help herself, she hasn't in control because she was, is, possessed by a powerful demon. You saw what almost happened here. Katherine's a good person, you can't blame her for all those horrible acts." "Calm down, Minnie, if that's really your name," the Perfesser said. "We aren't here to condemn Ms. Filin. You and Gaby and the Cat may belong to The Protectors, but I don't, and, as far as I'm concerned, whatever comes to light within these walls can stay within these walls." "You mean you're willing to overlook the fact that she killed all those people?" Mick asked incredulously. "Why?" "The way I understand it, most, maybe all, of those people deserved to die," Basilio said. "I'm not here to argue the fine points of justice and I suspect Katherine's influence over the demon kept the death toll from being much higher. I believe that justice must be served, but it is not my job to hunt down evil-doers. If you two promise that you will do your best to keep Malato-Zu from running amok, I have no beef with Ms. Cat." "Medium, is Gaby your real name?" Cat asked. "Yeah, Gaby Doltry of Los Angeles, California, at your service, Katherine." "That's good, because you don't look like a medium to me, more like a slender/tall," Cat said with a small chuckle. A weak joke, but enough to finally break the tension. The Perfessor invited everyone to sit down and have a drink from a liquor cabinet that seemed to appear from nowhere. He drank dark rum, straight, while the other adults had glasses of fine wine. Lupe was content with cold grape juice in a plastic cup. Cat removed her mask and gloves, not seeing much point in wearing them for this crowd, while Mick kept his on. No one present seemed to have a clue either to his real identity or that he wasn't even a woman. He didn't know whether to be happy or angry about that. "This is a souvenir from that bastard Wazuri," Cat said, as she held up her right hand with the missing little finger. "I'm sorry that I killed him, but if anyone deserved to die... Does anybody mind if I have something to eat? I'm starved." Cat pulled a small can of cat food from her bag, used the tab to pull off the top, emptied the contents with a few slurps of her file-like tongue and chased it with a swig of merlot. The Medium and the Perfesser watched with open mouthed astonishment, while Lupe giggled with delight. Cat gave an edited version of her life up to and after she met Malato- Zu; from East Africa, to her trip back to the USA, to her bloody dealings with the Gambolis, to the recent death of her father in Louisville. "Wait a minute," the Medium said. "You mean to tell me that you can't be killed? No wonder you're so reckless and confident when we face the bad guys. Heck, I would be too." "I'm not so sure she's invulnerable," Mick said. "Yes, she can't be killed by conventional means, but we still managed to kill Stankovic, and he was powered by a demon from an idol just like Cat's. He called his the Idol of Vouvo and it had the same green glow and everything." "Where is this idol now?" the Perfesser asked. "We brought it back to New York with us," Cat said. "We didn't think it was a good idea to leave it in Kentucky and risk someone else bringing out the demon." "Oh, do you think there's any chance I could perhaps see it?" "See it, Perfesser, you can have it!" Mick said. "I think it'd go a lot better with the decor around here than back at our apartment house." "And, perhaps, Ms. Filin, you can help me with something else?" "Huh? Oh sure, what do you want, Perfesser?" Cat said. "I'm not used to being called by my real name." "You said that once you were possessed by the demon you could read the inscription on the Malato-Zu figure," he said. "I have some ancient writings that might be in the same language, a language so old and obscure that I have been unable to find anyone to translate it for me." "Show me these writings and I'll see what I can do," Cat said. The Perfesser reached into his robe and produced a manilla envelope which he opened very carefully. He removed a 12"x12" wooden frame with a glass cover. Under the cover was a clay tablet. The tablet had been in fragments, but someone had painstakingly fitted it back together like a jigsaw puzzle. Cat's eyes lit up with interest as soon as she saw the tablet. "Is this 'The Song of the Deluge'?" she asked excitedly. "I've heard about it, but I've never seen it before. I had no idea so much of it survived. That thing is priceless, how'd you get it?" "What's 'The Song of the Deluge'?" Mick asked. "It is the oldest example of writing ever found," Gaby, the Medium, said. "It is so old that no one has ever translated it. It's supposed to have been written just before the Flood, more than 5,200 years ago, thus the name." "Yes, I wrote a paper on it as part of my PhD research," Cat said. "It is generally accepted that the pictographic writings of the Sumerians constitute the earliest written language, but this pre-dates the Sumerians and is more sophisticated. The only problem is hardly any of it survived." Cat took the tablet and placed it close to the room light. "Yes, I can read this," she said. "It's just like plain English to me now. It says: So to the corners of the earth they were scattered The evil seven that offended Jah most grievously And also one more was added Who the power of the Nephilim will bestow They will awake in the last of the days To play their part in the final great battle The Earth itself will shutter and quake The heavens to their very foundations...'" "That's all it has," Cat said. "I think there must have been more, but that's all that's here now. Can't say I think much of the poetry." "What are the Nephilim?" Lupe asked. "According to Genesis, they were the Fellers, the hunters of men," the Perfesser said. "They were the offspring of the daughters of men and the angels. They were giants, extremely powerful and evil and they filled the earth with their violence. Some say they were hybrids and could not procreate. They made life on earth hell before the Flood. So God destroyed them all with the Flood and no evidence has ever been found of their existence, although, according to Jewish tradition, Nimrod, the mighty hunter who built the tower of Babel, was one of them, as was Goliath." "You're talking about THE Flood, right?" Mick said. "Noah? Two-by-two? Forty days and forty nights? Look, I'm a good Catholic... girl, and I thought all that flood stuff was a myth." "Oh the flood happened alright, my dear," the Perfesser said. "There's simply too much evidence that it did. Every culture on earth has a story of a great flood or other disaster that wipes out all but a few humans so mankind can start over again. They have found parts of Noah's Ark, you know." "That still begs the question, what has all this to do with Cat?" "The demon who possesses me, Malato-Zu, is one of The Seven," Cat said, in a sober voice. "She was deemed by Jah, by God, to be one of the worst offenders and was condemned to imprisonment in that idol. Apparently, the time has come for her, and the other six demons, to be released. Well, seven others, if you count the Nephilim." "Are we talking the Apocalypse here?" Gaby asked. "The Biblical war to end all wars?" "Let us not jump to conclusions, good people," the Perfessor said. "I am by no means a Bible scholar and I, for one, would like to see some more evidence before we start talking about the end of the world." "The end of the world," Mick repeated to himself flatly. "I was looking for some action and adventure, but this is a bit much." He was afraid that Lupe would be upset by all this talk of doom, but she smiled at him as he tousled her hair and didn't seem overly concerned. "I guess a child her age just can't conceive of the end of the world," he thought. "Not even one as intelligent as Lupe." "What do the other Protectors know about this and what do you intend to tell them about me?" Cat asked Gaby. "Nothing and nothing. Look, as far as this 'end of the world' stuff, it's way too early to get the others involved, you know? I have hinted to Night Man that some big evil was on the rise and we needed to be on our guard, but nothing more. And now that I've met you and know who you really are, Katherine, I don't think I could turn you in. True, the demon inside you has done some terrible things, but you have only tried to do good with your powers." "I don't think the Arrow would share your sentiments," Mick said. "If he knew who Cat really was he'd call out the army. And what about Night Man? Do you think he bought that cock and bull story about experimental pet food?" "Hardly," Gaby said. "Let's face it, Ted has slipped in the last few years, but he's no fool. He's a good enough detective that if he REALLY wanted to he could find out who Cat was. But he's smart enough to recognize what The Cat brings to our group and I think he's so determined that The Protectors be a success that he will overlook her silly story, at least for now." "Well, if that's all, I'd like to go home now," Cat said. "I don't want to have to stay in this costume all day and it looks like a few seams are about to bust as well." "Let me give you a ride," Gaby volunteered. "No need for you to go on the subway again." "Yes, our appearance does seem to stir up the locals, doesn't it?'' Mick said, as they started down the stairs. "OK, we'll take that ride. But where is your car?" "It's right out front. Let's go." So Mick and Cat said their good-byes to the Perfesser and his Granddaughter. Lupe gave Mick a hug and a kiss on the cheek as they left and he promised to come back and see her soon. As they stepped out of the building they saw a white Jaguar XK8R parked at the curb. "Hey, that wasn't there when we went in!" Cat said. "Where'd that come from?" "Oh, it was here all along," Gaby said, as she signaled the doors to unlock with her key. "Remember, the Perfesser is the master of illusion. Wouldn't do for the locals to know a $75,000 car was parked in their midst." "I'm impressed," Cat said, as she leaped to hog the front passenger seat. "My senses are much sharper than a normal human's and I had no idea it was here. I'm also impressed with the ride. Was it provided by the government?" "Hah, not hardly," Gaby said, as she pulled away from the block. "I paid for this baby myself." "Ah, a California rich girl, eh?" Mick said, from the back seat. "Your Dad own a movie studio or a micro chip company?" "Actually, my Dad owns a deli. I won the lottery. I do look into the future, you know." "Isn't that unethical, using your supernatural gifts for personal gain?" Mick asked. "I only did it once," Gaby protested. "Lots of people with extraordinary gifts use them for their own benefit. Why, Louis told me he used his illusion-casting ability sometimes when he was with the Mets, when it was the bottom of the ninth and he needed just one more strike to get the side out. He says it's OK as long as you don't overdo it." "The last I heard, Louis Basilio had become a hippie and was running a commune in Upstate New York," Mick said. "When did he migrate to Spanish Harlem?" "Oh, let's see, he retired from the Mets soon after they won the World Series in '69," Gaby said. "Then he traveled the world, studying and gathering materials related to the mystic arts from a dozen different cultures. He and his wife founded a "magical, mystical" commune Upstate and stayed there for years. That's where his two daughters were born. He had to put up with a lot of hassles from "The Man" because he insisted on using illegal herbs as part of his research. Then Jim Jones made all the headlines and Louis decided the time for communes was past. So he moved his family back to NYC to that building you just left. He's been there ever since." Aside from the typical heavy New York traffic, the three do-gooders had a pleasant trip to the Columbia University area. They engaged in 'girl talk' for the most part, with Mick most interested in information about Lupe and her family. "Lupe's mother, Marina, is a crackhead," Gaby said, matter-of-factly. "Nothing they have tried seems able to break its hold on her. I think the Perfesser blames himself because of his own fondness for drugs. For all his learning and abilities he's unable to save the one who means the most to him. And when Lupe was born, it almost broke his heart." "Huh? What about Lupe? Is something wrong with her?" "You wouldn't know it to look at her, would you?" Gaby said. "Lupe is a hermaphrodite. She was born with functional male and female genitals. Usually in such cases the doctors remove the male genitals soon after birth and the child is raised as a female. But Lupe's mother was high on crack when she went into labor and Louis had to deliver her at home. When he realized what the child had, he insisted the doctors leave her alone. Through history many cultures considered people born hermaphrodite to have special powers and abilities. Being a spiritual person, the Perfesser wanted to wait and see if this condition was a gift from God or not. So Lupe was allowed to grow up keeping everything she was born with. As a baby she had both boys and girls clothing and toys, but by the time she was two her female personality was dominant and they named her Guadeloupe." "You mean she didn't have a name until she was two years old?'' Cat asked. "Correctamundo," Gaby said. "She's 10-years-old, almost 11, and she has never gone to public school because the Perfesser home-schools her. She doesn't have many friends, either. Her mother stupidly let her go to a slumber party once. Guess what happened when the girls decided to 'explore?' Lupe was in tears for a week because of the cruel things her 'friends' called her. She's become very withdrawn and wary of strangers, which is why it's amazing she took to you so quickly, Mouse." "The poor kid," Mick said. "She's 10? She looks more like she's five or six. Gaby, you see the future, what have you seen as far as her future is concerned?" "Sigh, I can't search for a particular person's future," she said. "My visions come to me at random and they're not always very clear. I know there's something quite important in her future, but I don't know what." By this time the Jaguar was only a few blocks from Cat and Mick's apartment house, so, after Mick took off his mask and they both put on their sunglasses and knit caps, they left Gaby's car and walked the rest of the way home. Gaby promised not to try to catch a look at Mick's face or try to see which direction they were headed, and they believed her. *** Barbara Simmons was going to die alone in Antarctica. Not a bad death, actually, she thought. At least she was going to die doing what she wanted to do and without anyone around to tell her how stupid and useless her life had turned out to be. Barbara was a geologist in the employ of Enburton Inc., a huge multi-national energy and construction company and one of the primary contractors for the new Trans-Antarctic highway. It was a long-term project that would eventually result in a 1,000+ mile ice-covered path right through the world's southernmost continent. Barbara was one of the few women on the job. Most females were not interested in the long hours, rugged conditions and isolation of this work, but it was just what Barbara wanted. Barbara was in her late 30's and had just gone through a messy divorce. She was no great beauty and her husband had been the proverbial jock back in college where they'd met. She ignored his disinterest in work and over-interest in other women for as long as she could until the situation eventually exploded. After the divorce she wanted to get as far away from her southern California home as possible, so she jumped at the chance to go to Antarctica for Enburton. In her bitterness, she made no effort to make friends on the job. She did her work well, but she ignored all those around her. Which, as it turned out, was not a wise thing to do in such a hostile environment. The pilot had died instantly in the crash and Barbara's legs were damaged to the point they were fairly useless. There was supposed to be a third person on the exploration aircraft, but the other workers had begged off with some flimsy excuses. Barbara knew the real reason was they didn't want to work with her, said to hell with them, and somehow convinced the pilot to take off without the full complement of three people. Barbara had dragged her broken body into a cave recently uncovered by the breakoff of an ancient glacier. In fact, it was this new cave that was the goal of the exploratory trip. The cave was likely to become her grave because a storm was coming and even if her GPS equipment was working, she would be dead long before any rescue attempt could reach her. "Well," she thought. "Freezing to death isn't supposed to be that bad. Just like falling asleep I hear. God, I hate how Rick will welcome the news that I'm dead. Oh, I wish he was dead, too. That would make me really happy." Just then, Barbara saw a weak green light coming from deeper in the cave. She pulled her aching body to the glow, using the absolute last of her remaining strength. She saw that the light was coming from a curious object, a small statue or idol, black as coal and shaped like a whale, but with human arms and legs. Then Barbara heard, or thought she heard, a voice inside her head... *** A month had passed since Cat and Mick were accepted as members of The Protectors. They had joined the other members on several missions in that time, some of them against The Destroyers and some against more generic threats such as fires and other natural disasters. Cat and Mick were slowly gaining acceptance from their teammates (all except Robichaux of course) and found themselves spending more and more time at Protectors HQ. They also spent time getting to know the Ole Perfesser and his family; not just Lupe, but his daughters and other grandchildren as well. They hadn't made much progress figuring out exactly what The Song of the Deluge and it's cryptic message meant and, since Cat had passed yet another month without changing into her demon form, Mick had let the matter of the "end of the world" slip to the back burner of his concerns. No, Mick had other things to worry about. "I don't know, Nickey, it's hard to explain," Mick told his oldest friend. "Things are going well, I'm doing what I've always wanted to do, my detective business has gone to hell, but with my Protector's stipend I don't really need the money. It's just..." Mick and Nickey were in Nickey's office at his Greenwich Village store. Mick had come for some minor repairs to his costume and had decided to stay for a while and shoot the breeze. "Oh, you're probably just jealous of Katherine," Nickey said. "Didn't you say she's spending a lot of time with that Chinese girl lately? Isn't that where she is right now?" "What, Rae Ming, the Girl Goliath?" Mick said. "Oh please! The only thing those two have in common is they're both muscleheads. Katherine is working out with Rae three times a week, in addition to our regular workouts, and she's getting ungodly strong. I mean, she was already ungodly strong, but that was with hardly any training at all. Now that she's working at it she seems to get stronger every day. I bet she could put 500 pounds over her head by now." "Well, there you have it," Nickey said. "You're afraid Katherine will get so good you'll be squeezed out of her life." "Not at all," Mick said. "Actually, the problem is the exact opposite. Katherine has been paying way too much attention to me lately." "Huh?" "As long as I've known her, and I guess it hasn't really been all that long, Katherine and I have been pals, you know, like brother and sister," Mick said. "Oh, I admit I had a small crush on her when we first met, I mean, she does look pretty much like my fantasy girl. But she's never looked at me in a sexual way, you know? She's been flirty, of course, and she's never been very concerned about wearing clothes around me or not, but I've never gotten the feeling that she had any sexual interest in me." "And now?" "Now, when we're together, I catch her staring at me with those big eyes of hers," Mick said. "She wants to be around me all the time, she wants to sleep in my apartment, when she's got a perfectly good one of her own. Then she goes prancing around my home in her underwear like she was a Victoria's Secret model. She wants to know what I think about her latest hairstyle, her make-up, do I like her boobs, do I think she's sexy. She's always touching me and rubbing against me. Nickey, she's coming on awfully strong." "And the problem with that is?" Nickey asked, as he rolled his eyes. "Mick, I know a lot of fellows who would like to be in your position. So, the little lady is getting horny, so what? Are you afraid she's going to rape you? Steal away your precious virginity? Well, I know for a fact that you ain't no virgin and you're always assuring me that you're heterosexual, so what's the problem?" Mick closed his eyes and a vision of Tony Bass getting his penis bitten off quickly flashed into his head. He inadvertently shuttered and decided he couldn't tell Nickey about THAT particular concern. Nor could he tell him how the demonic Cat nearly gave him an erection licking the blood off him after they'd killed Dragan Stankovic -- not without telling Nickey that Cat was the one who murdered his relatives. "Sex with Katherine just doesn't seem like a good idea right now," was all Mick could muster. "Maybe I'm spending too much time passing myself off as a woman. I know I've been doing it since college, but only for a specific job or occasion. Now I seem to be wearing a bra and panties all the time, when we go on a mission, when we're at the HQ, when we show up for a charity event, when I'm being interviewed. There are times I believe Katherine and I really are sisters. I'm always wearing makeup and raising my voice and batting my eyes and taking compliments on how nice I look. I think I'll scream if one more woman asks me if she can borrow a tampon!" "And do you carry tampons?" "Err, yes, yes I do," Micky said, as his face turned a bright shade of red. "Well, what would people think if I never had any when they asked?" "That you must be a man?" "You're trying to be funny, but that's the problem in a nutshell," Mick said, determined to make this point now that he was finally speaking his mind. "You know what grates on me the most? The fact that nobody, NOBODY, suspects that I'm not a woman! Never have, from the first time I pretended to be female, up to today. The Medium and the Perfesser are supposed to be magic, Nightman is supposed to be the world's greatest detective, and yet they are all convinced I am sweet little Mouse, cute female superhero." "So you're a good actor, so what?" Nickey said. "I'm afraid it's not just acting, Nickey. Look at me. Tell me, what do you see?" Nickey had noted earlier that Mick was more casually dressed than usual today -- in fact, he was dressed rather sloppily in dirty old tennis shoes, torn jeans and a baggy flannel shirt. And yet ... he still had the luxurious long black hair, the sparkling blue eyes, the perky nose, the flawless skin and the full, slightly red lips that made playing a female so easy and made him so irresistible to Nickey. Yes, Nickey had fallen in love with Mick years ago, the first time they'd met, in fact. Nickey had always been gay and from childhood had only desired sex with other men. However, to be blunt about it, he wanted to be the fucker, not the fuckee, which was a problem because physically Nickey was a wimp. At 5' 7" and 135 pounds he was nobody's idea of butch. Yet he was almost a head taller than Mick and his most cherished fantasy was to have the cute little detective as his "wife." The only hitch to that idea was that, while Mick had nothing against gays, he'd made it plain on several occasions that same sex was not his cup of tea. And Nickey knew he couldn't force the issue because Mick could beat the shit out of him. More than that, he feared asking for Mick's love would cost him Mick's friendship, and that was a loss he could not bear. "I see the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on," Nickey said, perhaps a bit too honestly. "It should be obvious to you or anyone else why you pass as a female so easily. Relax, babe, you have a gift. Enjoy it." "But, damn it, I'm not a transsexual or even a transvestite," Mick protested. "I don't want everybody thinking I'm a woman. I don't want to be overwhelmed by a role I'm playing." "Well, what better way to assure yourself of your manhood than to fuck a bodacious babe like Katherine?" Nickey said. "Make up your mind, boy. What are you, Hamlet in panties or what?" "Having sex with Katherine might be a little too extreme a move right now, but I need to do something," Mick said. "Maybe I'll take a leave of absence from the Mouse role for a few weeks, or even months. I've got to start being a man most of the time again." Just then the phone on Nickey's desk rang. Nickey answered and didn't get to say much more than hello before the person on the other end started speaking very loudly and very fast. After a few minutes Nickey hung up and looked at Mick. "I gotta go to the police station," he told Mick as he stood away from his desk. "They just arrested Tony Bass and he needs me to get him out of jail." *** Item on Page 102 of The New York Times: Homeless Men Affected By Strange Malady In a case that has local health officials baffled, more than 50 homeless men have visited several clinics in the New York City area complaining of similar sexual dysfunctions. Most of the men say that their penises have spontaneously shrunken to a fraction of their normal size and many of them have also developed breasts. "Some, quite sizable," said Dr. R. J. A. Mahindra, director of the Bowery Clinic. "They have also lost most of their body hair and some who were completely bald now have a full head of hair. They just started to come in about three or four months ago, out of nowhere. Some of the patients are known to me and I can assure you, this is no hoax." Dr. Mahindra said some of the victims also developed testicular cancer and had to have one or both testicles removed. As might be expected, many of the victims also complained of sexual harassment, some even claimed to have been raped on the streets. The only common thread to their stories is that most of the affected men said they were recruited to take part in what they called a giant gang bang for a pornographic movie. "Yeah, there was dozens of us and this one chick," said Larry, 38, who refused to give his last name. "... damn she was fine looking. Had about the biggest rack I ever seen, but, boy, was she hairy. Had some damn big feet, too. Must have been a bondage film because they had her all tied up. I was with her a couple of times and then they took us back home in a van after giving us 20 bucks each. Funny, I never did see a camera." The Health Department couldn't verify the men's claims, particularly since none of them could tell where the "filming" took place as they also claim the transporting vans' windows had been covered both there and back. If anyone has any more information on such a film, please call the Health Department at 555-6777. *** Tony Bass was almost hysterical. "Nickey, you gotta get me out of here, you gotta," he pleaded. "Word has gotten out that I don't have nothin' 'down there' and they're lining up to take their turns wit' me." "Why, Tony, why?" Nickey asked his cousin. "Why in hell did you punch out your court appointed psychiatrist? She was only trying to help you get over your depression about the divorce and losing the kids. You gave her two black eyes and knocked out a front tooth." "Ah, dat bitch was no help," Tony said, suddenly flashing back to his old, defiant self and the poor grammar he used when he wasn't careful how he spoke. "All she wanted ta do was get down on me for bein' so insensitive and smacking Lola around a little. She wasn't on my side, no broad is." "Tony, you were married ten years," Nickey said, patiently. "You whored around from the time you said "I do." If Lola objected to it, you slapped her right in front of the kids. You ignored your children, you were gone all the time, hanging out with the gang, partying. You're lucky, Tony, really. You're lucky all they did was grant the divorce and take your kids away. They could have thrown the book at you. Instead, they told you to take the counseling. And what do you do, you stupid fuck? You beat up your counselor, that's what you do." Tony stared at his cousin in anger and grief. Nickey had never talked to him like this before and unwanted tears began to pour out of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said between sobs. "I'm sorry, Nickey. I'm sorry I lost my temper, I'm sorry I was such a bad husband and father. Help me, Nickey, please! I can't spend time here. They'll turn me into a bitch, Nickey! They'll turn me into a bitch!" "OK, Tony, OK," Nickey said. "I'll talk to them upfront, OK? I'll see what I can do to get you out of here right now, so hang on. And stop crying! If you don't want them to think you're a bitch, you'd better not let them see any tears." Nickey walked away from the two-way telephone as Tony wiped his face with his shirtsleeves on the other side of the glass. Tony was escorted back to a holding cell occupied by half a dozen other men. He did not like the way they were looking at him. Two hours later Tony was released to his cousin's custody. "Thank you, Nickey, God bless you," he said, as they left the police station. "I don't think I could have lasted another hour in dat holding cell. I swear, dose mugs were drawin' straws for who was goin' to have the first turn wit' me." "Well, keep that in mind, Tony, because if you don't do everything the lawyer and I worked out for you, TO THE LETTER, you are going right back to the bung hole lottery," Nickey said, firmly. "You will be living with me and Mom until further notice, you will be working at my store five days a week, you will be taking all your medications and you will be seeing your new psychiatrist once a week. They are going to put you on two years probation, Tony, and for those two years, your ass is mine, err, figuratively speaking, of course." Inside, Tony bridled at the thought of being under anyone's control, even if it was a good guy like Nickey. But he was ready to do anything his cousin demanded. He knew this was his last chance to avoid jail time. "Whatever yous say, Nickey, you're the boss," Tony said. "Only, just what am I goin' to do at your store? I ain't no salesman and I can't see myself schmoozing wit' a bunch a homos." "Ah, Tony, Tony," Nickey said, with a sigh. "I doubt more than half my customers are gay. And don't worry, you won't be running the cash register. You know, I've needed a live model for a long time, and you're just the right size." "Say what?" *** Things were busy at The Destroyers HQ. The last several encounters with The Protectors had not gone well. Fortunately, no one else had been captured, as was the unfortunate Mr. Rosenberg. But the strategic advantage The Commander thought he had with the EXOs had been neutralized by The Cat. The mere thought of her made the Commander tremble in frustration. "Where did she come from?" he asked himself for the 100th time. "How did she get her powers? Surely not from that ridiculous cat food story. I wonder why the Master doesn't know anything about her?" As the Commander took his brooding walk through the HQ, Junk Yard Sal worked on improvements to EXO2's technology. She was attaching a modified one-man jet pack that originated in the 60's to his exoskeleton in hopes of allowing him limited flight. "Damn, Sal," EXO2 said with a laugh. "Where'd you get this idea, a James Bond festival?" "Phew, that's right," his sister, EXO1, said. "The last time anybody saw anything like this was before the credits for "Thunderball." "Laugh all you want, ya punk kids," Sal said. "But you'll be happy to be able to fly the next time the Cat is after your ass." Sal was as gruff as she was mechanically brilliant. She never left the HQ, for any reason, and, truth be told, she pretty much hated everybody. But she had a soft spot in her heart for the EXOs. She knew they weren't really evil, like the rest, just some thrill-seeking kids along for a dangerous ride. She prayed they'd keep a wairy eye on the Commander. He was a lot more potentially dangerous to them than The Protectors would ever be. The Commander continued his walk, past The Blue Ninja, training a group of new recruits; past The Weapons Master, testing a new automatic rifle on the firing range; until he reached his private office. No one went into that office but the Commander. It would mean death for anyone else to even try. After locking the office door, the Commander pulled aside some curtains to reveal a 60" plasma television screen. He hit a few buttons on the console next to his chair and an image soon appeared. It was of a well dressed man seated before a neutral gray background. He wore a black hood over his head with openings cut out for his eyes and mouth. The Commander thought this a tad melodramatic, but the Master was the boss, so he humored him. "The tests of the flying rig are going well, Mr. M," the Commander said. (He avoided calling his superior Master as much as possible.) "We'll be ready to try it out in the field soon. Have you decided on our next target?" "Of course, my friend," the Master said. "I want you to raid the Knicks' playoff game with New Jersey next Friday and steal all the box office receipts. That should be quite spectacular!" "Rob Madison Square Garden in the middle of a playoff game? With the crowd and the police and Protectors headquarters only a few miles away? Oh that's brilliant. Why don't we just raid Gracie Mansion while we're at it?" "Cut the crap, Commander," the Master said, sharply. "You're being paid very well to carry out my orders and my orders are to take Madison Square Garden. That is, unless you want me to find someone else to lead my little group." "Damn it, your orders make no sense. You always send us where we'll get the maximum publicity and the maximum chance to run into The Protectors. We haven't pulled off a successful job in more than a month. I'm starting to hear murmuring among the troops. They think I'm losing my grip because I can't tell them all these useless raids are your idea." "Nor will you ever reveal my part in this, if you know what's good for you," the Master hissed. "There are good reasons for everything I do, that is all you need to know. As for your 'troops,' give them a 50 percent raise. That should stop most of their grumbling. And, for your information, my laboratories are just about ready to start human trials on a new gene-doping methodology. I understand this has the potential to increase strength and endurance by a multiple of five or more." "Do you think that's what they did to the Cat?" "Perhaps," the Master said. "I have someone special looking into the secret of the fabulous cat woman. This operative has never failed me before and I hope to have some news soon. That is all." With that the screen blinked off. The Commander placed a cigarette in an elegant cigarette holder, lit up and rubbed his chin. "I always suspected the Master had a mole in the Protector organization ... I wonder who that mole might be?" *** Cat and Mick were once again outside the Ole Perfesser's Spanish Harlem tenement building at the request of the Medium. "Thanks a lot for the ride, Gaby," Cat said, as she sat in the Jag. "But I wish you didn't think you had to be so damn mysterious about everything. Why couldn't you tell us the reason for this meeting, you afraid we wouldn't come if we knew?" "No, man, it's just there are some things that's best not to talk about, even in Protectors' HQ," the Medium said. "Anyhow, all your answers are inside." "So, there are things you don't even want your boyfriend Night Man to know, eh?" "Who said Ted was my boyfriend?" "Ah, come on, girl, I know you like the brother," Cat insisted. "I can hear your heartbeat speed up when you're near him and you give off a very distinct odor in his presence. Sorry, but you can't fool the old super senses. Hey, no big deal, girlfriend. Teddy's got some age on him, but he's still a fine black man!" "Well, err, that is," Gaby sputtered. "Oh God, please don't tell him. I've dug him for a long time, like, since I was a little girl, ya know? But, aside from our association in The Protectors, he doesn't even know I exist." "Well, the man's got a lot on his mind you know," said Mick. "And besides, it's none of our business, Cat. Now come on, let's go. The longer we stay out here, the bigger the chance we'll be spotted and draw a crowd." In fact, a crowd was already gathering. Hermoso, he of the many tattoos and gold teeth, had been waiting more than a month to get revenge on Cat for humiliating the Broncos on their home turf. When word got out that The Cat was back in the neighborhood again, he quickly sent for his special reinforcements. "Hey, Ho," he shouted at Cat as she got out of Gaby's car. "I been waitin' to see you again, big bitch. You sucker-punched me an' my boys last time, but I got some homies wit' me now who wanna meet you." "Aw, do we really have to go through this again?" Mick asked. "You shut up, little bitch," Hermoso spat out. "Once we're done fucking up the cat woman we're goin' to make you run back to your rathole, dig?" With that five large, older Dominicans marched around the corner. They were each taller and heavier than Cat and none of them were the sort of person you'd want to meet in a dark alley -- or a bright one, for that matter. "These are members of the Broncos' alumni association," Hermoso said, proudly. "Each of these guys has done time Upstate for murder. Murders they committed wit' their bare hands, by the way. They are some really bad dudes and they all got their start in the Broncos and they're here now to uphold our honor." Cat tried to stifle a yawn. "Hey Gaby, remind me to ask you about some earrings I want to borrow from you later, OK? And as for you Dominican sad sacks, Bring it on!" As Cat began her little dance with the pride of the Broncos, a good- looking young man walked up to Mick. "Aiee, Ms. Mouse, aren't you going to help your sister?" "Oh heck no, friend," Mick said. "There's only five of them. Want to bet Cat finishes in less than a minute?" "You're on! And, by the way, my name is Diego." (Thirty seconds later.) Hermoso was almost in tears. His heroes, his role models, were strewn across the pavement like so many pieces of cordwood, moaning and whimpering in pain. "Ella los jodio'," he said, as he sobbed into his red bandana. Diego looked at Cat with stars in his penetrating gray eyes. "Magnifico! Amazing! Ms. Cat, you are as powerful as you are beautiful," he said. "Who's the pint-sized Latin lover?" Cat asked, as she dusted off her hands. "Don't tell me I've actually got a fan in this neighborhood." "That's Diego," Mick said. "That's Lupe's older brother," said the Medium. "He's usually running the streets, that's why you've missed him before today." "Are you a magician too, loverboy, like your ole' granddad?" Cat asked. "You shoot lightnin' bolts from them gray eyes?" "Aw no, I don't believe in all that hocus pocus stuff," Diego said, still giving Cat a stupid grin. "Gramps is a good guy and all, but he's just an old hippie who likes his weed a little too much." "Diego thinks of himself as the rebel of the family," Gaby said, as she led Cat and Mick upstairs. "He was actually toying with the idea of joining the Broncos until Cat beat the shit out of them last month. Now I think he likes you and probably wants to join your fan club. Or to start one if you don't have one already." "Young love, eh? Hey kid, how old are you anyway?" "I'm sixteen, but I will be seventeen in only nine months." "Well, come back in about two years and I might show ya somethin'," Cat said, in her best Mae West imitation, as they entered the main room and left Diego standing outside the door. "Cat, did you really have to lead the boy on like that?" Mick asked. "What leading on?" Cat said, as she sensuously rubbed her fine ass. "I haven't had any action in a long time and someone had better fill the bill soon or I'm going to do something I might regret." She once again gave Mick a look that was far from sisterly and he nervously hoped no one else noticed. He was relieved when Gaby and the Perfesser finally filled them in on the reason for this meeting. "From a combination of sources, including news events and Gaby's psychic abilities," he said, "we believe we might have located another object of power, or, at least, another person who might have been affected by one." "What do you mean, we?" Mick asked. "I thought you weren't a member of The Protectors, Perfesser." "I'm not, Ms. Mouse, but Nancy Miller is and she's a friend of mine. In fact, I'm the one who recommended Gaby to her for membership in your little group. She wanted me to join, but I'm too old and too fat for such things." "There is a man in the Philippines, a Muslim terrorist named Akbar Sali," the Medium said. "He's been positively identified as a suicide bomber on at least two occasions, yet he's still alive and leading his troops. He keeps his face hidden most of the time, but those who have seen it claim he looks like an animal, a rat, in fact." "According to government sources, this Sali character started out life as Dante Estrada, a Christian and a member of one of the better families in Manilla," she continued. "He was educated in this country and became a history teacher at a small college in Zamboanga City, in the Mindanao region. While there, he converted to Islam and became a radical, changing his name and eventually joining one of the Muslim extreemist groups fighting for a separate Muslim state in Mindanao. But he and his followers are so violent that the other groups have distanced themselves from him. He is suspected of running terrorist training camps in The Philippines that might have even produced some of the 9/11 bombers." "OK, so he's a bad dude and we should take him out of circulation," Cat said, impatiently. "I've got nothing against that, but what makes him any of my business?" "Like we said, we think maybe he has a demon in him because he has apparently come back from the dead more than once," the Medium said. "And one of his first violent acts was the attempted destruction of a local museum in Mindanao that the fanatics said carried pagan idols in an improper place of honor, following the example of what the Talaban did to a pair of huge Buddhist statues in Afghanistan. Sali botched the job and barely escaped with the law on his heels. An inventory showed later that only one item was missing from the museum." "Don't tell me, let me guess," Mick said. "A small, incredibly old, black idol with writing on it that nobody could translate?" "Bingo." "So how much does Nancy Miller know about all this?" Cat asked. "She knows as much as she needs to know," the Perfesser answered. "She doesn't know about your connection to the objects, Cat. Only that they are dangerous. So she has agreed to finance a little hunting expedition to the Philippines." "And what psychic evidence do you have, Gaby?" Mick asked. "I have had a vision," she said. "Of a suicide bombing taking place three days from now in Manilla. The person I saw carrying out the act fit the description of Sali." "Well, I can see why you'd want us to go with you," Cat said. "But why keep the other Protectors in the dark?" "Because they'd want to know why two rookies are being sent on such an assignment," Gaby said. "And, Nancy suspects someone at HQ is slipping information to The Destroyers." "Huh? Got any idea who that might be?" "No, but the leaks started before you two joined so you're in the clear," Gaby said. "For the present." "OK, I've never been to the Philippines before," said Cat. "Let's go!" *** Lower front page of The National Enquirer: Monster Whale Dines On Shipwrecked Fishermen, Saves The Rest In a tale so strange it has experts scratching their heads, a fishing boat captain from Punta Arenas, Chile, claims a killer whale ate his crew, but helped save his own life. The captain, Patricio Arias, and two other fishermen set sail on April 21 on the Natividad, a small, commercial deep-sea fishing boat. The vessel capsized in rough seas more than 20 miles from land in the Southern Pacific and the two crewmen were trapped underwater. By the time the skipper could free them they had drowned and after hours in the water with no rescue ships in sight, Arias thought he would be joining them in death. Then, without warning, a large killer whale surfaced only a few feet from where the captain and his dead crewmen floated in the ice cold water. "The whale did not capsize the boat," Arias said. "It came upon us after we had already been in the sea for several hours. Oh God, it ate Alejandro and Edmundo, who were already dead. Swallowed them whole. I was so cold I couldn't even try to swim away, not that that would have done me any good. Then, and I know it sounds crazy, but then it took me on its back and carried me out of the water all the way to land. It almost beached itself so I could scramble ashore." Arias was found on Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost point of South America. His rescuers have no idea how he made it to dry land. Some experts have had trouble giving credence to Arias' story. "It's unbelievable, absurd," said Dr. Jim Van Cleve, a marine biologist at the University of California at San Diego's Scripps Institute of Oceanography. "There is no record of a killer whale ever preying on a human being. And then it saves one of the crew as well? Sorry, but somebody had to have had a lot more than his regular ration of grog to come up with a fish story like that." Nevertheless, the Chilean Coastguard is combing the waters of the Southern Pacific looking for evidence to back up the fantastic story. "I tell you, I felt like I was Jonah," Arias said. "It was a leviathan, like something out of the Bible. I swear, this monster had arms and legs. It was like the end of the world." End Episode 5