The Blue Bolt Meets The Colonel

Diane Wooters slid out from between the sheets, her sleek naked form an alabaster shadow in the darkness of her bedroom in the District of Columbia suburbs. By now her husband of four years was used to the plaintive whine of her unique sounding alarm and slept through it. Diane gazed at the slumbering form of her handsome husband and for perhaps the thousandth time since she had entered his life, regretted that she could never tell him about her super-heroine identity. National security precluded her from revealing the fact that she was the Blue Bolt, to anyone. Only the president, the Secretary of State and the head of the Joint Chief of Staff of the armed forces, knew that information and the latter two were only informed on a need to know basis.

As far as her husband, Jim, or anyone else knew, she was Secret Service agent. Which she was, in a matter of speaking, but she worked out of the top secret superhero division. With her peers, she battled threats to national and international security and took home an enviable pay stub. Serving her country was something that Diane had never had a second thought about. There was the danger of course, but the lives saved and the adrenaline rush, more than compensated for the risk. Diane told herself that, one day, when either age slowed her reflexes to the point where she needed to retire, or, in the even more unlikely event, when the world no longer required superheroes, Diane would be permitted to reveal her secret life to dear sweet, and oh so handsome husband. "When that day comes," Diane told herself for the umpteenth time, "I will apologize for lying to him by makeup sex so incendiary, it will set him on fire!"

Until that day, secrecy had to rule. Otherwise, their loved ones would be at risk. Villains and terrorists, unable to battle herself or The Sanctum Master, or the Brute Man, Sister Gold, or any of the other crime fighters, would strike at their relatives and loved ones to bring the superheroes to heel. If one other person knew, others would know. No secret was safe if more than one person knew it. In the case of Jim and the other husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, ignorance truly was bliss.

Diane silenced the incessant alarm and threw on some clothes. She took out the note she long ago had laminated and attached it to the bedroom mirror. "Duty Calls!" it read. Jim understood that a Secret Service agent had to be on call twenty-four seven. He tolerated it because his Diane was the sexiest, most beautiful woman he had ever met. Her long brown hair framed a lovely face with crystal blue eyes and carmine lips. Her model-tall body was finely muscled and intoxicating. Her flawless alabaster skin tanned enticingly when they went on expensive vacations to remote beaches in far off tropical climes. Jim loved the fact that often, Diane, on desolate strands, dispensed with bathing attire completely. Their sex life was more than satisfying to both of them. James Wooters knew full well that he was an extremely lucky bastard.

Jim mumbled something incoherently in his sleep as Diane stroked his curly blonde hair and stole a kiss. Softly she padded down the stair and then out the door to her car. A short time later, her vehicle entered a hidden entrance in a seemingly abandoned building. In her private locker room, Diane changed into her crime fighting attire. A midnight blue bustier of impervious material, A crimson skirt that fell to her upper thighs over a pair of midnight blue panties, long white gloves and thigh-high red boots with blue stripes down the sides, across the entire ensemble, a dusting of white and gold stars. To conceal her identity, Diane donned a high-tech mask that obscured her identity but did not obscure her vision. The mask generated a field which bore a completely different countenance. The Blue Bolt was equally beautiful as Diane Wooters, but not even her own mother would have recognized her features as those of her own flesh and blood.

Her last act of preparation was always the hardest. She slid off her wedding and engagements rings and placed them in the small velvet box. She always dreaded the soft popping sound with which the box closed. Even though their removal was temporary, the sound of the box closing always had the sound of finality in Diane's ears As Diane placed the box on its shelf, she spied the many commendations and medals from the president and other world leaders stored there. Again, she looked forward to the day when she could tell Jim how she had earned every one. With a wistful sigh, Diane forced the thought away. The moment the locker clicked shut, Diane Wooters was forgotten. In her place stood the Blue Bolt.

The super-heroine made her way to the roof of the building. She allowed her super power to flow through her, seconds later, the Blue Bolt was riding the arcs of the lightning her body generated. An aerial surfer, the provocatively dressed crime fighter rode the lightning into the west, her destination, the Pentagon, to determine why she had been summoned.

Deep in the bowels of the world's largest office complex sat the superhero ready room. Full of high tech gear, listening devices and cameras, the warren of activity was a second home to the crime fighting elite. Filled with everything any superhero would need, funded off the books, this sanctum did not officially exist. Oh, the heroes were certainly spied entering the building but the government maintained the fiction that their visits had no official capacity. Already in the room. Sister Gold, the Brute Man, and The Epicenter, all exchanged greetings and took seats around the large table as a high-ranking general strode to the front of the room.

"Welcome heroes. The Sanctum Master is on assignment"

Once all were seated and focused on him the general continued. "There is no way to sugar coat this, The Gecko has gone silent and is long overdue in reporting back."

The Brute Man spoke for all of them in his animal-like growl of a voice. "Perhaps the assignment is taking longer than he planned."

"No," the general replied, "his transponder if offline, as is the backup. He was not on an assignment, in any case, he was making a routine patrol. It was a PR mission as much as it was targeting crime. He seems to have vanished from the streets without a trace."

"That's bad." stated Sister Gold bluntly "Any clues?"

The general activated the screen behind him. "Not exactly. There is some chatter about "The Mind Bender. Whoever he or she is, they have not appeared on our radar before. We believe he is affiliated with the terrorist F.I.S.T. organization, but we have no proof. As all of you are aware F.I.S.T, has sworn revenge after we foiled their plot to level the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency. You may recall that was also the operation where Starbuck was injured so badly he had to abandon crime fighting permanently."

The Blue Bolt recalled her old comrade, the shape-shifter had taken shrapnel while suppressing an explosive device, he was just able to return to human form before his superhero abilities vanished utterly. Not even the best doctors in the world could repair the lesion in his brain. It was something of a miracle that he was even able to return to his normal human form. Starbuck had been a valuable member of the team, one whose skills had, even now, not been entirely replaced. The bit of metal had entered Starbuck's skull in the one place where his power originated. It was a million to one odds that his one vulnerable spot would be struck, yet Starbuck had not complained one iota at the hand fate had dealt him. Diane remembered his going away party. Starbuck's words upon that occasion still resonated with her.

"At least now I can tell my mom what I've been up to for the last ten years."

She pushed the musing away and focused once more on the general.

"Until we determine who or what we are up against. I am going to ask all of you to exercise extreme caution. The Gecko can crawl through an opening three centimeters wide, no normal prison can hold him. The fact that he has not escaped yet means either he is injured, dead, or being held in the most secure prison on the planet. Like you, I am hoping it is the latter."

A map of the District of Columbia appeared behind the general. With a laser pointer, he circled the area where The Gecko had vanished

"This is a search mission. Turn up any clues you can. Stay in radio contact at all times. You have the first watch, Blue Bolt. After you, Brute Man, and third watch goes to Sister Gold. With any luck however, the Blue Bolt will hit pay dirt on our first go. I can give you limited under cover support, but with the Kelton Act now in force, we can't send uniformed men into civilian centers without a presidential edict. As valuable as the Gecko is, this does not rate that high an emergency. But as you all know, the job was dangerous when you took it."

A short time later the Blue Bolt was strolling through an area of the District of Columbia in severe need of gentrification. Her lightning bolts could disarm and immobilize any foe, even so, the landscape made her nervous. She had been on patrol for several hours now, off to the east the horizon was beginning to glimmer. Another hour she could go home and get some much-needed sleep. Only her fellow crime-fighters, both civilian and her superhero brethren understood the tedious and mundane work that was so much a part of the job. It certainly all wasn't signing autographs and posing for paparazzi. On nights like this, the boredom became sheer torture.

The Blue Bolt turned a corner and encountered a thin man sprawled out the sidewalk, a huge gash in his forehead pooling blood on the sidewalk. Diane sprinted to man's side.

"Are you O.K., Sir? Hold on a moment, I'll summon help."

The apparently insensate man suddenly rose to a sitting position. In the hand previously hidden under his body was some sort of weapon. Diane's fraction of a second of registered surprise was sufficient for the man to pull the trigger. A cloud of something that was clearly not gas exited the weapon and surrounded the comely crime-fighter. The Blue Bolt managed to squeak a weak, "May..." before her legs collapsed under her. In stunned silence, Diane became acutely aware that each one of her senses was deserting her. By the time she felt the sidewalk beneath her, Diane Wooters, AKA the Blue Bolt could not speak, hear, see, or move. She felt the hardness of the pavement for a fraction of a second after that and then there was only the deepest, darkest blackest numbness she had ever encountered. It was an inky night without stars, her brain seemed divorced from her body, hitched to nothingness. The experience was beyond terrifying.

The support patrol lagged a block behind the Blue Bolt. Hearing her aborted cry for help they sped to her rescue. At her last recorded position, the undercover MP's discovered a smudge of stage blood on the sidewalk and nothing else. In the distance, a vehicle of some sort could be heard speeding away. The MP's radioed ahead, but they had no vehicle description to relay. Sure that the Blue Bolt's tracking devices were sure to be still operating the command center in the Pentagon quickly scanned the entire district. No signal was returned or traced. It was as if the Blue Bolt had vaporized like morning mist in the newly risen sun.

As quickly as the darkness had descended, Diane felt her senses return. She had no idea how much time had passed or where she was, with her mind in its blackness, she felt certain that, as a coping mechanism, it had allowed her to sleep. She was aware of a firm yet yielding surface under her supine body. In an instant she was fully awake her eyes flew open and she sat up.

She found herself in a stark white room on a white leather couch. She was not alone. Filling her field of vision was the Colonel, the degenerate leader of F.I.S.T. the world's most feared terrorist organization.

"Ah, back among the living, beautiful."

"Stuff it you creep!" spat the heroine

"Manners, young lady!" replied the Colonel. The middle-aged veteran of Saddam Hussein's elite republican guard laughed and nodded at the scrawny man, the same one the Blue Bolt had encountered on the sidewalk. He had some sort of remote control in his hand. His finger came down upon the device.

Diane tried to batter her adversary with a string of invective but only a soft hiss issued from her lips.

The Colonel observed the confusion on the beautiful superhero's face, chuckled once more and said,

"I see the truth is beginning to dawn on you, Blue Bitch. I am in control here."

He nodded once more, the scrawny man's finger moved once more and Diane's voice returned.

"O.K. I won't reign down the curses you so richly deserve. What is this all about?" asked Diane contemptuously.

The Colonel stroked his chin and replied, "Very simple. You and your ilk have committed crimes against F.I.S.T. We can not achieve our aims of defeating your imperialistic and meddlesome government so long as it has access to superheroes. We have decided to eliminate that threat. Now that you are awake, it is my duty to inform you that, under provision of the F.I.S.T. government, I am placing you under arrest"

"Very funny." replied Diane. "I think I'll go now." Diane rose to her feet and went into her power stance. Her hands extended but her lightning bolts did not come. Suddenly, Diane was aware that the electrical power that was her super ability was no longer flowing through her veins!

The Colonel broke out into a wide grin. "As I told you, whore, I am in control here." after a short laugh he pointed to the scrawny man in the room and said. "Let me introduce the Mind Bender. It is his technology but my will which controls his hand. He wields your every sense and bodily function."

Diane gazed at the short skinny man with an unusually large cranium. He winked and smiled at her.

"Nanotechnology, Blue Bolt," stated the man in an adenoidal voice. "That cloud from my gun. Once you inhaled even one of my little friends, they needed only a few seconds to reproduce and course through your body. You inhaled tens of thousands, so the effect was nearly instantaneous. Besides incapacitating you, they also sought out and neutralized any tracking and communication devices on your person. With this and other controllers, I can make you do ANYTHING I want or the Colonel wants. Suppressing your superpower became as easy as flipping a light switch."

Diane aimed her hands at the Mind Bender, again no blue bolts of lightning appeared.

"Like a petulant child, you have to test my authority." snickered the Colonel. "If I so desire, the Mind Bender will simply shut down your respiration. His device is also capable of great pleasure."

Diane felt a warmth in her loins, she could feel an orgasm that promised to be one of the most spectacular of her life beginning to envelop her. It was most disconcerting.

"Or great pain."

Diane felt more pain than she ever imagined possible. She fell to the hard white ceramic tile of the floor and writhed in pain. Despite herself, she cried out for mercy.

The Colonel raised his hand and the pain tearing through Diane's body dissipated as quickly as it had struck. Warily, she rose to her feet once more.

"You see, Blue Bitch, you have no control and I have ALL of the control. The pain my friend's device can inflict is nearly infinite. Your obedience means I DON'T inflict pain.".

Diane met the intense gaze of the Colonel, not willing to yield the high ground.

"What do you want?" she asked firmly.

"I have already told you. You are under arrest. Have no fear you will receive a fair trial, unlike many of my comrades who were simply executed by your corrupt government. Like any prisoner, you will processed and caged. Follow me."

The Colonel strode towards a nearby door. Diane made her legs iron posts of resistance.

"No way you, pervert!"

The Colonel smiled at Diane's defiance.

"Still not fully comprehending, eh bitch." He nodded his head and the Mind Bender donned a virtual reality helmet. As he took a step forward Diane's legs did too! Diane was aware of another presence in her mind! This presence seemed stronger than her will. Diane fought to regain control of her lower limbs. Instead, she fell in behind the Colonel and followed him to the next room.

"Stop this, NOW!" cried a panicked Diane

The Colonel shot her a contemptuous sneer,

"Now you sound just like my men. They asked for mercy. Your nation's bombs continued to fall. How does it feel to live at the whim of another?"

Diane's panic intensified when the room she was forced to enter contained a prison cell. A man in a guard's uniform sat at a desk by the entrance.

"All right, Blue Bolt, I'm sure you know what happens next. STRIP!"

"No! Don't do this!"

The Colonel looked irritated and gazed at the Mind Bender, who had followed them into the room. Diane cried in a mix of frustration and terror as her left arm and hand moved of their own volition and grasped the long glove on her right hand.

"Get him out of my head!" screamed Diane

"Will you be obedient?" inquired the Colonel.

"Yes!"

With a nod from the Colonel, the alien presence in her mind receded. Diane was back in control of her body. The Colonel crossed his arms across his chest a look of expectation on his face. Diane shot a last pleading look at the Colonel and then at the scrawny man.

"Stop wasting my time." said the Colonel firmly.

Diane's eyes teared up as she bent and unzipped the thigh-high boot on her left leg. Never before in her crime-fighting career had she been forced to disrobe by an adversary. In the back of her mind, she was aware that it was always a possibility of capture, but Diane's thunderbolts had always allowed her to escape such an indignity.

The Colonel's sneer transformed into a smile as he spied the Blue Bolt's quite shapely thigh and calf came into view. He was so going to enjoy teaching this arrogant American whore the lessons she so richly deserved. Diane's fingers flexed with frustration and rage before she freed her right leg. The Colonel noted that his prisoner lost, at least, two centimeters of height without her boots. He gestured and Diane handed her footwear to the guard who cataloged them in a ledger.

Diane inhaled deeply and removed first her long left glove and then her right. They were confiscated by the guard. Diane knew that she had very little clothing left. Nervously biting her lower lip, Diane reached behind her back and unzipped her short skirt. Diane hung her head as it fluttered to the floor. Seeking sympathy that did not exist in her captor's face, Diane fought back tears as she bent and retrieved her skirt from the cement floor of the room.

Diane struggled to get a handle on her emotions before she progressed further. Although she was admired from coast to coast and had appeared on the cover of numerous magazines, Diane was actually quite shy. Besides her husband, only three men had seen her naked. There was the college boyfriend before Jim, her high school beau, and the brother of her best friend. One day when the two were feeling bored and mischievous, they opted to streak through the living room where the brother was watching TV. As a beautiful and photogenic celebrity, the Blue Bolt regularly received offers from men's magazines. Naturally, she turned them down. The only concession she had made was an all super-heroine edition of the "Sport's Illustrated" swimsuit issue, even so, the Blue Bolt had worn the most demure bathing attire splashed between the covers. Later, Diane thrilled upon hearing Jim's reaction to the photo spread.

"Even if it gets me in trouble, honey," stated her husband, "I have to confess that the Blue Bolt makes my pants fit funny."