The Corvette received plenty of looks from those few who caught a glimpse of it, as it was very much out of place. The headlights were off and the dark tinted windows obscured the driver's identity. Those onlookers would have been very surprised to learn that the driver was one of the newer heroines in the New York City area. The Huntress, daughter of the recently departed Hunter, was at the wheel.
The darkness was no hindrance to the Huntress as she had slid the night sight lenses in her mask into place earlier. She kept one eye on the road while referring to the street map displayed on her onboard computer. It was only a few more blocks until she reached her destination and the reason that had brought her out this late at night to the docks.
The Corvette moved away from the hustle and bustle of the operating warehouses and into a more darkened district. An occasional streetlight and security light would provide illumination, but for the most part the warehouses in this district were dark. The buildings were either closed for the evening or were no longer in operation. Some were long abandoned and had fallen into disrepair.
The Huntress slowed the Corvette down even further as she approached her destination. Coupled with the darkness of vehicle and the lack of illumination, the car was nearly invisible during the night. The motor itself was virtually silent at this slow pace thanks to Hunters tweaking. It was unlikely that anyone would be aware of the Corvette's presence.
"This is it," the Huntress thought to herself.
Reaching over, Helena procured a small spyglass and held it up to her eye. The heroine studied the mostly dark structure intently. The warehouse in question was also mostly dark. There were some outside lights on, but they were few and far between. The interior was just as equally dimly lit. Numerous windows had been broken in the past and now were boarded up. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a very long time.
That was not true, as the Huntress well knew. The warehouse belonged to the Golden Dragon Tong, one of the criminal organizations that infested the Big Apple. The heroine had been going up against the Tongs enforcement arm, the Dragon Lords for weeks now. At last, she had been making progress and could sense that this particular battle was reaching its climax.
Thanks to the spy camera she had installed in the Golden Lotus Club, the Huntress had been able to listen in on the Dragon Lords as they received their assignments. It was due to information she had gleamed last night that had brought the Huntress down to the docks. Early next week a major drug shipment was due to arrive at the warehouse she was currently eyeing.
Tonight the heroine would scout out the warehouse in preparation for what she imagined would be her final battle with the Dragon Lords. She would learn the warehouse layout and come back on the night of the drug shipment arrival with some of her allies. Both Night Owl and the Scarlet Sabre had shared encounters against the Dragon Lords in the past. While she hadn't asked them yet, Helena was confident that they would both be happy to lend further assistance.
Having observed all that she could from a distance, the Huntress eased her Corvette forward and located a hidden place to park in the next block. Shutting the engine down, the Huntress eased out of the car and moved off into the night, pausing only to activate the Corvette's security system. Keeping to the shadows, the heroine advanced on the target warehouse.
"I would imagine that there are guards here," the heroine reasoned silently as she looked about. She had yet to spot any security forces however.
The Huntress didn't know if the warehouse was only a receiving point and whether the illegal drugs were then transported to another location or if this was the main hub of their operations. If it was the main hub, then there should be heavy security. Were it only the arrival point then the warehouse may very well be deserted right now. Either way, the Huntress was going to proceed with caution. No point in taking any silly chances on what should be nothing more than a reconnaissance mission.
Shunning the obvious entrances, the Huntress used her wrist launcher to latch on to the edge of the warehouse roof. Silently the heroine was lifted into the air and deposited up on the roof. The roof of the warehouse was mostly flat, but had a series of steep inclines. Numerous dirty windows lined the vertical parts of these areas, allowing some light to filter into the warehouse below during the daytime.
The Huntress slowly circled the roof looking for any signs of security systems and a good way to enter the interior of the large structure. No cameras, sensors or other detection devices were noticed. There were two separate hatches leading inside, but Helena only gave them a quick glance. No doubt they were locked or perhaps barred from the other side.
Such obvious entrances would be protected in some fashion and should be avoided. At least according to the advice provided by her mother, Felina. This was one instance where the advice of a world class cat burglar would come in handy.
"You'll want to find the least obvious entrance to a place. It'll have the least amount of protection," Felina explained earlier in the day. "Security system designers usually fail to take into account powers and abilities that they themselves don't possess. There were places that I could reach without any special equipment that would be nearly impossible for a normal human. Coming in from above is usually a good strategy as you can get a better idea of the layout."
"Sound advice," Helena noted upon reflection as she continued her scouting.
Having completed her circuit, the Huntress moved silently back towards the spot that she had chosen to enter the warehouse. The entrance of her choice would be gained via one of the windows high over the warehouse floor.
The window creaked slightly as the Huntress pushed it further open. On the other side of the window was a straight drop to the floor, some sixty feet below. However, there was a small maintenance walkway located thirty feet away. It was too far to reach by normal means, but not a hindrance to the Huntress.
Aiming her wrist launcher to the overhead metal work, the Huntress latched on to one of the roof supports and swung the short distance to the walkway. The heroine landed with a muffled thud. She crouched down and waited for several moments trying to hear if her entrance had attracted any type of attention. All remained silent and no movement was noted below. The only noise was the gentle banging of metal shutters in the night's breeze.
Confident that her entrance had gone unobserved Helena stood and retracted her climbing line. Taking out her spyglass once more, the heroine scanned the interior of the warehouse. It was filled with cartons and crates of various sizes, some stacked as high as twenty feet above the floor. One end of the building had a second story mezzanine for additional storage space. Stairs and a freight elevator provided access.
Several small offices were spotted, but all were dark inside. In fact, there were only half-a-dozen lights on inside the entire warehouse itself. There were more than enough shadows for the Huntress to remain hidden in while she explored. So far, there had been no sign of anyone else in the warehouse.
Cautiously and silently, the Huntress moved along the small walkway, exploring both ends of the warehouse. The heroine spent several minutes by the entrances to the docks. If the drugs were coming by boat, a very strong possibility, then this would be where the action would be. Entrances were noted, along with places to hide for an ambush.
Once satisfied with her scouting, the Huntress moved back the way she came, intent on giving the rest of the warehouse the once over. It was always possible that a battle might spill over into other areas of the structure. Far better to cover everything than leave out even one little detail.
As she was moving back towards the mezzanine area, the Huntress spotted something that made her hesitate. There was a small shipping desk underneath the mezzanine that was adjacent to the truck docks. The Huntress had noted the area earlier, but this time there was something different. There was a light that had not been there before. Moving closer, the heroine realized that it was a turned on computer monitor.
"I could have sworn that wasn't on earlier," the Huntress mused, her gloved hand resting thoughtfully on her chin. "Maybe I just missed it. It could have been blocked by crates the first time." Still, it did concern the Huntress a bit. What if she wasn't alone in the warehouse as she thought she was?
The Huntress studied the distant light for a few more moments. "The computer might contain useful information," the heroine finally concluded. "It's worth taking a minute to check out."
Silently, the Huntress climbed down to the warehouse floor. All was quiet and the heroine stealthily advanced towards the desk. Once there, the Huntress made sure she was alone before tapping a few of the keys on the keyboard experimentally. A quick search didn't turn up anything of great interest.
Unexpectedly, the overhead lights flared to life! The sudden illumination momentarily blinded the heroine, who still had her night sight lenses in place. Startled, the heroine spun to could make out movement near her through the spots playing before her eyes while her hands returned the night sight lenses to their daytime position.
"You were warned to not interfere with our activities," a man's voice called out. There was a slight Chinese accent to the voice. Helena had heard this man speak before, but couldn't immediately place him. "Now it is too late for you. Did you think that we wouldn't realize that someone had access to inside information? Or that we couldn't turn this to our advantage and lure our enemy into a trap to eliminate them once and for all? No one crosses the Dragon Lords and lives!"
Her sight returning, the Huntress could make out the White Dragon standing high on several crates forty feet away. He wore the same costume as the night the Huntress had first laid eyes on the crime lord. It was an all-white body suit that bore the emblem of a twisting dragon on his chest. His full mask only left the White Dragon's mouth exposed. It was orange with flame-like patterns along the edge. Matching boots and gloves finished off his attire.
"White Dragon!" the heroine gasped in surprise. If what he was saying was true, then the drug shipment story had just been a smokescreen to get the heroine down here for a battle on the Dragon Lords' terms. It had been a trap for her all along and she carelessly fell right into it. "I must have struck a nerve to finally get you out of hiding."
However, the crime lord was not alone. Nearly half a dozen Dragon Lords were also spread out before the Huntress, effectively trapping the heroine underneath the mezzanine. The men all wore black but bore a variety of weapons. One man played with a dagger, while another brandished an oriental sword. Another Dragon Lord had a pair of nunchakus that he swung and whirled about his body. A large chain was the weapon of choice for one Dragon Lord, while behind him was yet another thug with a handgun.
"The White Dragon does not fear a mere woman," the crime lord calmly intoned. "It is beneath me to deal with such trifling details."
"Fine with me," the Huntress taunted back, pointing an accusing finger. "I'll rough up your goons first, then I'll come after you."
Brave words Helena realized. She was outnumbered and had the White Dragon himself to contend with once she got past his thugs. "This is not going to be easy. Just have to stay calm and remember my training."
"Impetuous girl! These are my elite Dragon Lords! They will put an end to your interference! Strike my Dragons!"
Not wishing to make herself a target, the Huntress immediately moved off to her left. A knife flashed past her, striking the spot she had just been. The computer monitor was suddenly put out as a bullet from a silenced gun smashed into it. There was a pop, and then a small cloud of smoke issued from the cracked screen.
"They are definitely playing for keeps," the Huntress realized. She was going to be in for the fight of her young life.
The Dragon Lord with the sword came rushing in next, bringing his weapon down in an overhead strike and screaming a battle cry as he struck. The Huntress sidestepped the clumsy assault, spun on her toes and then landed a snap kick right into the breadbasket of the swordsman. He gasped in a combination of surprise and pain as the air was violently forced from his lungs.
Continuing to spin, the Huntress kicked the man once more before he could defend himself. This time she aimed higher and struck the main in the face. The man and his sword both went flying this time. The Dragon Lord landed hard on top of a crate, rolled off and then landed on the concrete floor unmoving.
"That's one for me," the Huntress informed her foes, her own confidence growing. Despite their training and skills, the Dragon Lords were just ordinary men. That kind of foe had yet to pose any threat to the Huntress. It was only those who possessed genuine superpowers that gave her serious trouble. "Who wants to get hurt next?"
The Dragon Lords with the nunchaku and the chain rushed in next, both swinging their weapons. The Huntress avoided the chain, but took the brunt of the nunchaku on her chest. Fortunately, her reinforced Kevlar costume protected her from the assault allowing it to do only minimal damage.
The Huntress dropped to the floor and, using her hands for support, shot her legs out in a wide, sweeping arc that took the legs out from underneath the two Dragon Lords. The thugs hit the concrete hard, the wind knocked out of them.
"If these are your best men, White Dragon, then I think you're in a world of trouble," the heroine announced proudly as she sprung back to her feet.
However, she received no reply from the White Dragon. He continued to observe the conflict from his perch high above on top of the crates. There was only calmness coming from the crime lord. He showed no obvious concern, in spite of the poor performance showed by his elite Dragons.
Unexpectedly, the Huntress felt something hot slam into her right shoulder. A searing pain exploded in her shoulder and she inadvertently took a step back. Looking down the heroine was shocked to discover a small bullet hole in that portion of her costume that covered her shoulder. A tiny spot of blood began to appear on the fabric of her costume.
"I've been shot!" the Huntress realized in astonishment. The Dragon Lord with the gun had hit his target this time.
Before she could even react to the wound, another Dragon Lord came in from behind and dropped a garrote around the heroine's neck! The goon twisted the garrote tightly, constricting the Huntress' throat!
"Can't breathe!" the Huntress managed to gasped out loud.
Desperately, Helena tried to grab a hold of the garrote with her hands, but it was too thin, too deep into her throat for her to find any purchase. To make matters worse, the Dragon Lord with the knives was coming in as well. He was passing a shiny blade back and forth between his hands. With a sadistic grin on his face, he lunged the blade towards the Huntress' stomach!
Somehow managing to keep her wits about her, the Huntress spun to one side, forcing the brute with the garrote to whip about and right into the path of the blade. The knife-wielding Dragon Lord's look of glee rapidly changed into one of shock as he drove his weapon into the back of his associate!
The stabbed Dragon Lord relinquished his grip on the garrote as he tried to pull the knife out of his back. The man spoke loudly in Chinese, presumably uttering a litany of curses towards his fellow criminal.
The pressure on her throat gone, the Huntress pulled the garrote free and flung it away. Sweet air filled her lungs once more as the heroine paused to catch her breath, using the receiving desk for support.
However, her foes weren't about to give her the chance to recover. The heavies with the nunchaku and the chain were back in action. The man with the chain swung wildly, as the Huntress dodged the attack. The table she had been standing in front of was shattered in two from their assault.
The nunchaku-wielding Dragon Lord tried to strike once more, but the Huntress continued to move, using the other Dragon Lords as living shields. She ducked behind the stabbed criminal who looked up in astonishment as the nunchakus caught him in the face. A moment later, he fell to the floor unconscious, groaning the whole way.
"Thanks for the assist," the Huntress managed to blurt out. Her throat hurt from the strangulation attempt and her shoulder throbbed from being shot. "Dad said there would be days like this," the heroine mused as she continued to avoid the advancing Dragon Lords.
Fortunately, the presence of this many Dragon Lords had caused the distant shooter to pause. He didn't wish to fire upon his own partners. Sizing up her options, the Huntress watched as the knife master turned to face her once more. Right behind him were the thugs with the chain and the nunchaku.
Deftly, the heroine produced a smoke pellet from one of her many hidden pockets. She slammed the pellet to the floor and immediately, black gas began to issue forth. In moments, the smoked filled the entire area, blinding all those within.
Using the distraction and the darkness to her advantage, the Huntress lowered her good shoulder and plowed straight ahead, taking the three Dragon Lords to the floor. The heroine tumbled away from the prone thugs and rose to her feet once more. Taking out a handful of sleeping gas pellets, the Huntress flung them back towards the trio of Dragon Lords.
"That should fix their wagon," the heroine thought as she moved away to avoid the effects of her own gadgets.
Locating the receiving desk once more, the Huntress gingerly made her way along, moving towards the edge of the darkness, calculating her next move. If she recalled correctly, all that remained of enemy opposition was the scum that had shot her and the architect of this trap: the White Dragon himself.
Taking out the gunman didn't worry the Huntress any; it was the White Dragon that had her concerned. He was an unknown commodity. She had no clue just how skilled of a fighter he was or even if he was superhuman or if he had any tricks up his sleeve. The idea of taking him on without any beforehand knowledge made the young heroine uneasy. The pain being felt in her body wasn't helping matters any.
Reaching the edge of the gas cloud, the Huntress pulled out her crossbow and prepared to fire. She loaded another sleeping gas pellet into the nose of a blunt shaft. Stepping out of the darkness, the Huntress located the gunman and fired. Her aim was true and the shaft struck the startled man square in the chest. Immediately, the sleeping gas issued forth into the man's face. He couldn't help but breath the gas in and quickly slumped to the floor.
A smile came to the Huntress' face as she took several steps towards the White Dragon. He still hadn't moved from his perch.
"So much for your 'Elite Dragons'," the Huntress said crossbow still in hand. "I will give them credit, they were tougher than your regular goons. They gave me a run for my money for a little bit, but they still went down."
"I am disappointed," the White Dragon suddenly announced, as he slowly descended the crates he had been standing upon. "They will be punished for their failure. You are a far greater annoyance than I ever imagined. The idea that a female could cause so much trouble is astonishing."
"I'm hardly a 'mere female'. Obviously, you never heard about the women's lib movement. I'm going to have to teach you something about girl power the hard way."
Stowing her crossbow, the Huntress confidently walked up to the White Dragon. He was actually a few inches shorter than Helena was. His arms were folded across his chest while his full mask concealed his facial features. The two were less than two feet apart. Still the White Dragon hadn't moved.
"You're one arrogant little crime lord," the Huntress noted as she balled her fists. She continued to ignore the throbbing in her shoulder and the growing stain of blood that soaked her costume.
Unexpectedly, a cloud of white dust came forth from a concealed compartment in the mask of the White Dragon! The dust covered the Huntress' face before she could realize what was going on and had inadvertently breathed in.
"Foolish female. No mere woman can defeat the White Dragon."
The Huntress choked a few times as she stepped back, away from her foe. The warehouse began to spin around Helena as her legs buckled underneath her. The heroine collapsed to the warehouse floor, her world going black with the words of the White Dragon echoing in her ears.
"No mere woman can defeat the White Dragon."
Nervously, Felina Kirby paced back and forth in her suite. A glance at the clock told her that it was 2:30 AM. With a heavy sigh, Felina went back to pacing. She couldn't sleep without knowing that Helena had returned from her night's work as the Huntress. Felina tried, but just tossed and turned until finally her nervous energy forced her to get up.
"Where is she?" Felina wondered aloud, worry thick in her voice. Every fiber of her being was telling her that something was wrong. The task of scouting out this warehouse should have been completed hours ago. Helena should have been back by now.
The idea of operating as the Huntress was not something that sat well with Felina in the first place. If she had her way, Helena would have lived a normal life. Quite possibly married with children by now. Too many in Felina's family had donned costumes for one reason or another. While they might have thought their reasons valid at the time, in the end all it did was ruin their families.
While Felina's mother operated as the heroine Shadowcat during World War II, young Felina was left at home, feeling very lonely and unloved. Even to this day, she never knew who her father was. Felina had the love her grandparents gave her, but it wasn't enough. A little girl needed her mother and needed to know that she was loved. Felina swore to never make the same mistake should she ever have a child.
Of course, not only did Felina make the same mistake, she had herself exiled to Europe for nearly twenty years. Instead of avoiding the same problems she had with her own mother, Felina actually made the situation much worse. Had Felina never become the Cat, then she wouldn't have been forced to leave her daughter. Had Lane never been the Hunter, then there wouldn't have been a Huntress. It was entirely possible Lane and Felina would still have been together to this day, watching their daughter live her normal life with pride.
Instead Felina was walking the floors during the middle of the night, wondering where her only child was. Felina had a certain sense when it came to trouble. Typically, it only surfaced when she herself was in danger. Was it possible that it extended to ones she loved as well?
Felina couldn't be sure. That aspect of her talents had never been fully explored. There were a multitude of reasons why Helena may not be home yet. She could have stumbled across some other criminal endeavor and was moping up crooks right now. Or she could by lying somewhere in a ditch bleeding to death.
"I'm letting my imagination get the best of me," Felina mused. "Still I can't shake this feeling that something is very wrong."
Deciding to do something about the situation, Felina ditched her sleeping clothes and squeezed into her Cat costume. It was essentially a dull black bodysuit lined with many pockets. Rushing from her room, Felina made her way down to the Hunter's Lair and sat herself down before the computer.
"Knowing Lane he must have some way to track the Corvette," Felina silently contemplated as her fingers danced over the keyboard. "Only makes sense should he forget where he left it or it gets stolen."
It only took a few minutes of searching for Felina locate a tracking program. After activating the search feature, a map of New York City appeared on the monitor. The view started at very large scale and quickly grew smaller as the tracking program homed in on the location of the Corvette. A blinking dot finally appeared on the screen, showing the current position of the vehicle.
"She's still at the warehouse," Felina realized as she sat back in the chair.
Tapping a few more keys and the Lair computer linked up with the onboard computer in the Corvette. Data was quickly exchanged through the wireless link.
"According to this, the Security System was activated nearly three hours ago." A sudden fear gripped Felina's stomach. The feeling of dread she had been experienced had grown. "I knew it! Something is very wrong!"
Felina was out of the computer chair like a shot. The vehicle garage was adjacent to the main lair. Normally, the Corvette would be resting here, but now all that was present was Hunter's souped-up motorcycle. Felina activated the engine while she put the riding helmet on. Felina paused only to pick up a spare Corvette security control and attached it to her belt. Straddling the bike, Felina revved the engine a few times before speeding off into the night to find her daughter.
The throbbing in her shoulder was the first sensation that the Huntress felt as the blackness lifted from her mind. In spite of this, she still felt odd and not in complete command of her mental faculties. Then came the pain in her joints and the ache of her muscles. She was lying on her left side, which made her shoulder hurt all the more.
Helena tried to move, but found that she couldn't. Her legs had been folded and her knees were now mere inches below her chin. If that wasn't uncomfortable enough, her hands reached around her legs and were tied together with rope. The heroine experimentally tried to pull her hands apart, but found that not only were they bound tightly, but also that part of the rope had been secured to other ropes holding her ankles together. She could barely move her hands an inch.
As she become more aware of her predicament, the Huntress realized that her legs had been tied not only at the ankles, but also below the knees and along the upper thighs. More ropes had secured her folded legs to her upper body preventing her from stretching out. One last rope passed under her knees and over her outstretched arms, drawing her elbows tightly to her knees. Her body had been painfully compressed into a tight ball. Movement was almost impossible.
The Huntress tried to speak but discovered that had been denied her as well. Her mouth had been filled with some kind of cloth that was now wet from her own salvia. Several strips of duck tape held the packing tightly inside her mouth.
Fortunately, she had not been blindfolded. Tentatively, Helena opened her eyes only to find herself lying inside a wooden crate that was barely larger than her compressed form. The top was open and she could see the ceiling of the warehouse overhead. The face of the White Dragon came into view.
"Ah, you are awake," the criminal sneered. "Good. As I promised, you shall pay for your insolence."
The eyes of the Huntress flared angrily as she tried to speak but it came out as unintelligible gibberish. It was the only way that she could currently communicate. Her mind was still very groggy, but she realized that she was in great danger.
"You are wondering what your fate is to be, yes?", the White Dragon continued. "Nothing elaborate, I can assure you. You die a slow and painful death. It will take many days for your end to come. I wish for you to suffer and reflect upon your folly for defying the Dragon Lords. Think hard, female, for that is all that you will be able to do!"
At the White Dragons command, something was dumped inside the crate with the Huntress. It took a few moments for the heroine to realize that it was packing material generally called 'popcorn' or 'peanuts'. The substance quickly covered the Huntress' body, filling up the rest of her container.
"They're sealing me inside," the Huntress realized in horror. Vainly she struggled to get free, to move, but she could do nothing. Her mind refused to function. The filler completely covered her body and darkness came over her eyes. A moment later, she could feel the lid of the crate being hammered on; sealing her inside what perhaps might be her coffin...
