Supergirl Captured by the Mob 21  

By Dr. Dominator

Supergirl Captured by the Mob

Part 21 - The Killing Ground

By Dr. Dominator

Note: The Supergirl character and name as well as Wonder Woman and Diana Prince are the property of DC Comics. Tony Bonano and his crew as well as Sergei Zhukovia, Bruno Gemano and Scarlett O'Shea are properties of Dr. Dominator and cannot be used without permission. This story is simply meant as entertainment and should be read only by consenting adults of 18 years or older. Violence and rape are never an answer to any situation. Neither are mob hits!

Diana Prince is admiring a beautiful horse and it seems almost to be looking back at her with amused delight. But, being carved out of wood, that is impossible. Standing on the 40th Street side of Bryant Park on a beautiful sunny day near Le Carrousel, the attractive brunette is trying to keep herself calm and patient as she waits for Carmine Vega to appear. He'd missed the last meeting and since then, Diana, like the rest of the world, had been horrified to see the video of Linda Danvers, the noted news reporter being attacked, brutalized and captured. Her secret identity was completely blown as her clothes were stripped off her, her Supergirl costume was exposed and she was slimed with a glowing green kryptonite gel. Every network had shown the edited bootleg video dozens of times. Diana was sick with worry for her young friend. It had been more than a week since her disappearance and then this filth had begun to surface. She was sure there was going to be more of it unless she found Linda quickly.

This world of men often made Diana feel that her mission here was hopeless. The violence, sex, drugs and, worse still, the blithe resignation to the unrelenting horrors that the people of this world showed generated a depression she constantly had to fight against. There were good points too, she knew. The young boy's face filled with delight on the carrousel waving to his mom on every passing cycle as the joyful music of a French cabaret filled the air was a hard image not to smile at and take joy from.

Diana sighs deeply, checking her watch. 1:03 p.m. Vega was three minutes late already. She was wondering if this meet was genuine. Vega had sounded scared on the phone. He'd changed the time twice already, from 11:00 to 3:30 and then to 1:00 p.m. He'd said the whole thing had gotten too big for him. He was going to tell her who the brains were behind the kidnaping and video but wanted immunity. He also wanted to meet her and discuss this in a public place for his safety. You couldn't get much more public than Bryant Park. Set in the heart of New York City behind the famous New York City Library and it's matching stone lions, the park had been reclaimed from drug addicts and the homeless for more than a decade now. It's manicured Great Lawn, while small by Central Park standards, still offered a delightful open space for New Yorkers to take bagged lunches, stroll past monuments, wander among bookstall and flower booths and generally enjoy the amenities of a beautiful park in the middle of a beautiful early June day.

Suddenly, however, there is shouting coming from the direction of the NYC Library. Diana spins and looks at the large building at the end of the park. It's not the library! People are streaming out of the Bryant Park Café, a smaller building in front of the library. From the building and from the patio tables set up under colorful umbrellas, people are running in all directions in panic.

"Somebody's shooting up the Café," yells a dark haired man in a red ball cap and bright red matching sneakers running right at her. He stops. "If you have a cell phone, call for help." He runs behind the carousel to hide.

She hears the chatter of an automatic weapon and noting a temporary tent set up on the huge lawn, Diana races toward it quickly. Why were things always happening before she could meet with this Vega character? Well, she couldn't worry about that now, people's lives were in danger.

Stepping past the flap of the green tent, she spots huge lawn mowers and power edgers lying around but no people. With her arms spread, Diana quickly spins in place and the workman's tent fills with a bright white light. The light fades and Wonder Woman stands fixed in place for a mere fraction of a second. The famous stylized eagle on her chest barely contains the prominent breasts stretching out the red and gold bustier. The blue silk costume panties with their white stars accent her womanly hips to perfection. Her white-striped red boots, gold power belt and loosely draped glowing golden lasso shimmer with the promise of all that is good in this world. All that is right. The tiara on her head gives notice that this is a true princess of Themyscira and she is here to give the world a chance at nobility, greatness and peace. Wonder Woman dashes out of the tent to help mankind yet again. To make a difference in the world.

With all the speed and grace granted by Artemis, Wonder Woman covers the 80 yards between the workman's tent and the terrace in a mere six seconds. More automatic gun chatter fills the air. People are rushing out from the Café as she slows her pace to try to get an understanding of the situation. She races up the steps separating the Great Lawn from the Upper Terrace where the Café is located. It's all happening in there! And then something bites into her left thigh and throws off her balance badly. In the center of the upper terrace, Wonder Woman falls to her left knee in a clumsy stumble, shocked at this sudden pain. Looking down, she sees that she has been shot! A bullet hole with bubbling red blood is beginning to leak a small stream of red down her thigh.

"Great Hera. What is happening here?" A flash of silver in the near distance to the left catches Wonder Woman's eye and her left wrist moves without thought. A bullet whines off the shining silver bracelet into the lawn, throwing up a clot of dirt. Another flash from the right and her wrist is there, blocking the bullet, sending it careening into the stony terrace at her feet.


There is a third bullet and it strikes hard into her right side just above the hip from a completely different direction.

"Aghh!" Wonder Woman looks down to see the hole near the bottom hem of her bustier, feeling the lancing pain blossoming there even as the blood begins to drip. All around her people are shocked to see Wonder Woman kneeling in the middle of the Upper Terrace in Bryant Park bleeding from gunshot wounds. The silence breaks and everyone scatters with screams in every direction away from the grimacing brunette. She starts to rise, thinking to seek shelter in the café from this deadly killing ground when yet another glimmer brings her right wrist directly in front of her abdomen with instinctual grace, blocking a bullet destined for her stomach. It whines off in the distance, striking a lamp post near the 42nd Street side of the park.


She's halfway to standing when a bullet from behind her rips a nasty burrow deeply into her left shoulder.

"Hungghh" Wonder Woman falls to all fours from the agonizing impact of this shot. For the first time in her life, the Amazon princess is deeply frightened. This is a trap from which she may not escape. From which she might not even survive. Breathing deeply, trying to ignore the pain, a grimacing Wonder Woman again tries to rise so she can get into the security of the cafe's cover. She stands on weak, wobbling legs and takes one step toward safety. A glimmer to her left stops her in her tracks and she flicks her wrist back and to the left sending a another bullet into the lawn, a spray of dirt somersaults inches above the lawn.


Her right arm jerks backward as the flesh of her forearm is plowed into by a bullet she had not seen.

"OWW!" The mighty woman warrior cries out as the useless hand suddenly drops to her side, blood draining onto the stone terrace from the nasty wound.


From behind her a bullet buries itself into Wonder Woman's right buttock.

"Yeagghh!" Her ass was vibrating from the impact.


From the opposite direction, from some high vantage point in front of her, another bullet bites into her right shoulder.

"Guungghh!" The defenseless heroine's eyes close in horrible pain as the hail of bullets begin to take their toll. Helplessly, Wonder Woman crumples to the terrace, her knees no longer strong enough to support her. She lands on her bleeding butt cheek with hard thump that brings a shriek of agony from the embattled brunette. And then she flops weakly onto her back, her legs pinned beneath her.


Something smaller stabs into her lower right calf, jerking it upward slightly.

"Ughh!" Extremely painful but not the devastating, crippling effect that the bullets brought. "!" Wonder Woman tries to breathe as a few people hidden in corners and behind poles snatch cell phones and flip them open desperately.

Zhhippppt! Zhhippppt!

"Agghhhh!" The beautiful female shrieks in terrible pain as both breasts take individual hits to their fatty undersides from the whining little slugs. None of these deadly accurate wounds are killshots, but added together they may well bring the mighty princess of Themyscira to the stygian shores of Hades. Ares must be enjoying the view of this massacre!

The dazed and bleeding heroine tries to retain consciousness as a growing puddle of blood forms beneath her inert body. Her body feels wet in several places and her brain is fogged with pain. Struggling desperately, Wonder Woman tries to pull herself onto her side. Using her good lower left arm, she rolls her upper torso to the right and brings her knees up slowly to a fetal position, trying to make herself as small a target as possible. Nobody cringing in the corners of this massacre site can believe their eyes. Wonder Woman is a bloody mess who is behaving like a helpless little girl. They didn't blame her. They just couldn't process the shocking site!


A whining sting splits the difference between her shoulder blades cutting a tiny round black hole in the upper portion of her back. Several inches away from the spine.

"Owwwww!" Wonder Woman slumps onto her stomach now, her legs spread ungainly beneath her in perpendicular directions, flung there from the agony of the shot. Bright tears begin to well in her blue eyes. Was this how her time in the world of men would end? So ingloriously. So callously gunned down without honor? Would there be no...

Zhhippppt! The wasp sting of metal finds the sole of her foot which jerks up and falls back in just the briefest tortured second.

"Hissss" the brunette grimaces through the onslaught of pain to which there seems to be no end in sight. "," she pleads to her gods. But strength is the last thing Diana is feeling. Her very vitality, her energy and her will seem to be seeping out of her. Indeed the blood pool beneath her has grown. She has lost much blood in her sprawled, unprotected position here on the terrace. The harsh stone does not absorb her life flow. It simply collects it in the crevices on which she rests.

There is screaming in the distance. People she can no longer protect? No, a police siren she thinks through the haze. She is too weak to lift her head. There are gun shots. Automatic fire. A scream. More screams. People scattering away from this horrific kill zone. A policeman's lung collapses, his airway bubbling with blood. His partner is pinned behind the car angled at the 42nd Street side of the park, not far from the bookstall. He is drawing heavy fire from the café.

Zhhippppt! Zhhippppt! Zhhippppt!

"Hiieeyaghhh!" High on her upper left thigh. Low on her left buttock. Just above her left wrist. Three small, very painful holes through which her consciousness would love to escape. "Oohhh," the Amazon whimpers. She'd lost count of how many bullets her body had absorbed. Her great belt, a gift of the gods was only sustaining the agony now. Any normal woman would have been dead long before this.

The policeman behind his car, seeing the form of the mighty fallen heroine jerk from three impacts makes a mad dash for the cover of a hot dog cart to try to get a better position. He never makes it. Three shots from different locations, triangulate on him and blow him off his feet, flailing his body into a heap on the sidewalk.

Wonder Woman's eyes see a pair of bright red sneakers approach her. The left foot forces itself beneath her wounded breast and rolls her over onto her back.

"Uuunnghhh!" Dizzily, the groaning Amazon beauty looks up at the man in a red ball cap who had warned her at the start of this ambush.

"" Her mouth mumbles as her eyes sluggishly search a cold hard face. She didn't know this man who would have her dead. That seemed ridiculous to her. She actually coughs out a laugh of scorn, bringing up a bright red shimmering well of blood that drips down her chin.

"Those bracelets didn't do you a lot of good, Wonder Woman. Not so effective against triangulated high-powered assault rifles with scopes, huh?"

"'d you know.... I'd be here...?"

"Why, that part was easy, Ms. Diana Prince. Carmine told me." The dark haired man grins down at her as her eyebrows lift in astonishment. He knows my identity. How in heaven could he?


The man in the ball cap pulls a small derringer type gun from the waist holster behind his back and aims it right at Wonder Woman's chest.

"That part was easy, too. Your stupid blonde girlfriend gave you up. Supergirl. You know, Linda Danvers the reporter. Haven't you been following the news?"

"...she'd it...." Wonder Woman looks at the bore of the gun facing down at her. This was her end. She mentally prepared for it. Courageous to the end.

"Maybe not intentionally. But I hear she's not the brightest bulb on the light string. Plus, drain all her powers with kryptonite, force crack into her system for a week and beat the living shit out of her and you never know what a friend might let slip.

"" Diana snarls with her last breath, her neck straining to pick her head up. She spits on the sneaker. A final defiant act of a warrior.

"You pathetic, big-titted cow!" The man shoots her in the left breast. Right over her heart. Diana's body jerks once and her head falls back onto the hard stone terrace, her eyes closing shut with a long, breathy wheeze that brings up more blood out of her mouth. It drips down her chin onto the stone terrace, bringing a quiet finality to the horrific ambush that had broken the peace of this sunny early summer's day. Even the birds have fallen silent.

The man in the red sneakers looks down at the bloody bullet-riddened body sprawled in a deadly silence at his feet and pulls a flip phone out of his windbreaker. With a flip he presses a button and says, "Bring in the van."

Bruno Gemano, Carmine's freelance hit man, shakes his head slowly at the sight of the famous Wonder Woman, the victim of a old-style mob hit: "Never let them see it coming. Keep the guns blazing and don't give 'em an exit strategy." It worked to perfection just as he planned it. The famous Wonder Woman was cut down just as he knew she'd be, lying in a bloody pool at his feet. Another notch on his belt. A great little addition to his portfolio. He pulls out a small digital camera and snaps a picture of her limp body.

Except for the tranquilizer dart in her breast, the airgun BB's and the carefully executed wounding shots, she would be dead. Would have been if he had his way. Look how easily he'd taken the dumb bitch out. Six bullets, eight BB's and a knock out dart and the mighty Wonder Woman was hamburger meat! Tony was sure going through a lot of trouble to capture this cunt! Why he didn't just kill her outright he'd never know. But hell, for two million to pull this off, he didn't have to know. "Let's move people, we got a world of cops coming our way in about four minutes!"

Three men in jeans and a t-shirt, wind breaker and sweatshirt, respectively, have arrived quickly from positions all around the park. Their looks, calculated to blend into the scene at the park, are unremarkable. Each is holding a rifle with a spotter scope that each leans against one of the café tables. Other shooters remain on nearby rooftops and hidden windows to hold off the police support that will be coming. People have drifted away from the site, afraid for their lives. A crowd has formed on the other side of 42ndStreet, watching with tear-stained cheeks at the unmoving body of the famous brunette superheroine clothed in red and blue and gold. Looking at the devastated woman, none of the onlookers feels like heroism has a place in today's horror show. They huddle in fear from the team of hit men.

Two of the burly men pick up the limp, bloody form of Wonder Woman and carry her over to the 40th Street side of the park and the panel van that's been backed up onto the sidewalk. The third man walking with them opens the doors and they slide the bloody, dripping champion into the back of the van. One man hops in and pulls her deeper into the van as the other men push against the soles of her boots, handling her like a side of beef. One man, Jerry, closes the doors and checks his hands to see they are filled with blood from the wound Wonder Woman had taken in her foot. He wipes it on his pants and then goes to the drivers side and climbs in. Bruno meanwhile has come jogging up in his red baseball cap, holding all the rifles.

"Let's bail," he says, opening the back of the van and tossing in the guns. "There are about half a dozen cop cars coming down Fifth Avenue. They're only at 72nd Street so far. If we're lucky we can get outta here without a huge firefight."

"The guys on the roof will cover us though, right?" The blonde shooter wearing the dirty I (Heart) NY T-shirt asks, climbing into the van.

"That's what they're there for, Marco. Okay, Danny, you hit the subway over there and meet me back at my place for the split at 8 p.m. Don't be late." He climbs into the passenger side of the van.

"Won't," the young redhead grunts and spins around to walk to the nearby subway stop. He'd just made 150 grand and he wasn't even 22 yet. His days in the shooting arcade have paid off big time, no matter what his fat, pizza-stuffing mother said!

Bruno pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and touches the instant radio button. "Hold the cops off fellas for six minutes guys, then bail!" He waits for an answer but hears only one or two shots fired. "Hmm. Guess they're busy shooting. What are you waiting for, Jerry? Punch it," Bruno barks. Jerry doesn't have to be told twice. He guns the motor, throws the van into drive and peels down 40th Street toward the west side. He doesn't even get to the light at the Avenue of the Americas 200 yards away when the van comes to a screeching halt.

"What the fuck you stoppin' for?" Bruno can't believe this idiot. "You forget something?"

"It ain't me! What's that sound? Cheering?"

Beep. Bruno's cell phone chimes loudly and he flips it open, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thought you might want to know you got Superman hanging on your rear bumper," the voice says and clicks off.

"Shit," swears Bruno. He clicks his phone a second time. "We need Backup Plan S. Now!" Bruno shouts. And the back doors of the van fly open, the lock broken as if it weren't even in existence. Marco punches the man's face that appears through the open doors. He pulls his hand back with a howl.


"Nice language, moron. Superman grabs Marco and flings him out the back of the van and forty feet away where a clump of bushes breaks his fall. He collapses unconscious in the vegetation.

The glowering face of the dark haired Man of Steel is now looking directly at Bruno who says, without hesitation. "Jerry, cut the engine. Now!"

"That's the first smart thing you've done today, scum! If this woman dies, you will not see the light of day in my lifetime. And I expect to live for a long, long time. And Jerry, you're not really going to pull that gun on me, are you?"

"What? No, sir, Superman. Not me. I was going for my seat belt."

"To run away from me? Can you run to Mars, Jerry. Because I would follow you." Superman stares carefully at Wonder Woman, using his X-ray vision to check her wounds. No single one is fatal, but the blood loss worries him. He's got to get her to a hospital within the next half hour or she may well die. "Stay put Jerry and I won't turn you over to that angry mob across the street. You've got a lot of people very upset out here with the cowardly ambush you two have pulled off here. If you're lucky, the police will take you into custody instead of that angry mob getting to you."

"The police might be a little busy, Superman," Bruno says, stalling for time.

"Oh, you mean the four shooters in, let's see, that fire escape, the second floor of the hotel over there, the one hiding in the public bathroom and the one on the roof of the library? Those guys?"

Bruno gulps noisily. The guy was good. He was Superman, after all. "Yeah, uh... them."

"They're no longer a problem. I don't know who you are, sir, but you're going to go to jail for attempted murder. Now stay where you are. The police will be here in a few minutes," Superman says, reaching toward Wonder Woman. "Unlike you two, this is a real human being that people care about, and I have to get her to a hospital thanks to your total disregard for human life. You two vermin are fixed in my memor....UNNGGHH!"

The mighty superhero winces in surprised pain as somebody behind him clobbers him with something that actually stuns the tall, black-haired champion. He leans heavily against the rear of the van, his palms actually quivering, his elbows locked. Superman is momentarily groggy from the blow. He doesn't know it but a strong feminine hand sneaks over to his costume trunks. It pulls the waistband open, drops a steel ball into them and lets them snap back in place. Superman feels a cold hard orb fall heavily through his butt crack and drop to the lowest point of his crotch.

"What the...." Partially recovering himself, Superman spins around to find himself face to face with a beautiful woman with long red hair of medium height wearing shiny red, form-fitting latex hotpants and a matching red latex sports top that shows off a set of breasts that would impress any editor of a men's magazine and sculpted abs that would impress any body builder. She is also holding a set of glowing green kryptonite nun-chucks that certainly have made an impression on the Man of Steel.

"Hi ya, sugah. Want to play with Miss Scarlett?" She holds the deadly weapon close to her body in a calm but purposefully poised attack position. "Scarlet O'Shea at your service."

"Not your way, I don't," Superman says and leaps into the air. He hovers 20 feet overhead, looking down on the redhead.

"Well! I never! That kind of rudeness is not something a girl of the South like myself was brought up to tolerate." Her thick Southern accent is right out of 'Gone with the Wind.' "I'll have to get hah'sh with you Supermain. I really weell!"

Wavering slightly from the blow to his head, Superman tries to heat up the nun-chuck with his heat vision but he's still too hurt to concentrate in a way that will generate anything strong enough yet. He has to wait a moment, even though he knows he has to dispatch this woman quickly so he can rush Diana to the hospital.

"You know, those things are illegal in New York State," Superman says, stalling so he can fully recover from the nasty blow to his head. He feels for a lump and surely, the kryptonite weapon has left one. And even a small cut that makes him wince. It feels like blood and something greasy on the wound. If it was leftover kryptonite, he thinks he knows why it's taking so long for him to begin feeling better.

"I'm going to have to insist you come down he'ah this instant, honeybuns. Scarlet doesn't have patience for yo' games today." She points a plastic handheld device at him that she's removed from a small matching red latex waistpack at her hip. Superman is prepared to evade any ray her little toy generates. But he doesn't see any beam of any kind. He's finally about to unleash his heat vision when there is a loud bang in his trunks and a concussion wave expands the shorts with a momentary hot blast of air. It dissipates immediately leaving Superman confused as he looks down at himself. The costume is as form fitting as ever. Although he realizes the trunks are actually soaking wet for some rea...

"OHHH! Aaagghhh!" The sudden painful heaving stomach cramps, nausea and absolute weakness sweep through Superman instantaneously. He drops out of the sky like a graceless pelican diving for a fish. Smashing onto the sidewalk shoulder first from 20 feet up stuns the heavily radiated Man of Steel. He may even have dislocated his right shoulder. His whole right arm is numb from shoulder to fingers.

Across the street, the crowd's collected groan and shouts of horror float across the park in the sunny summer afternoon. Scarlet is pleased to hear "Oh no!", "Not him, too",

"Why doesn't he get up?", "How did she do that to him?" and "First Wonder Woman and now Superman. This city, no this world is not safe anymore."

"Jerry, get out of the van and bring your gun, we may have to hold off some cops now that Superman has taken out our cover team."

"Sure Bruno. But did you see him flop down like that. What she using against him?"

"Must be some nasty kryptonite. I've never seen that overgrown boyscout look so out of it in my entire life. She's teaching him quite a lesson. Hey, heads up, we got a hero at four o'clock. Don't shoot him, just back him off til this is over." Jerry backs off the rookie cop with well placed shot that throws dirt in his face. The blonde rookie cop backs off to the landscaper's tent to reconsider his career choices.

"Carmine," Bruno presses his cell phone's direct talk button. I need back up for my extraction of package one and package two. Copy?"

"Is package two prepped and ready to go already?" An incredulous voice on the other end.

"Not quite yet, but she's getting there. This bitch is hell on wheels!"

"That's why she gets the big bucks! Extraction team in your area in ten minutes."

"That's the best you can do?"

"I'll tell them to push it to six."

"Please do, this place is starting to crawl with cops.

"Sending special Freight Hauler to your location."

"Really? Fan-fucking-tastic. I may just live through the day."

Slowly, the man who can mold planets to his will tries to collect himself and stand up but kryptonite in his trunks is too powerful for him to achieve that right now. This stuff was murder! It felt ten times worse than any kryptonite he'd ever felt before. Sitting up with his hands behind him supporting him, his knees raised up and his boot tips pointing in opposite directions, Superman wavers weakly in place. Scarlet now stands a mere three feet away from him, smiling broadly.

"Why, Supermain. You look plumb tuckered out alreddy and we ain't even had much of a scuffle yet."

With his head bowed and only his eyes looking up, the black-haired hero mumbles softly to the redhead in latex hot pants, "Wha...iz...thiz...stuff...."

"Uh uh, dahlin', you're not controlling this he'ah conversation. I aim!" She whips out the nun-chucks viciously and the octagonal steel bar coated in deutronium kryptonite smashes into the left orbital lobe surrounding Superman's eye, crushing the outer rim to splinters.


Superman collapses onto his back in agony from this.

"See, sugah. You didn't want to play nice with Scarlett, so I had to play rough. You are a bad boy for that!" She walks behind the prone hero, unbeknownst to him, and swings the nun-chuck in a wide blade like action that smashes down flat on Superman's abs, driving all the air out of the defenseless hulk.

"Fffoooooomphhhhh." He doubles up and rolls over to protect himself, curling into a ball. The second hero to do so in Bryant Park in less than an hour!

"No, that won't do at'tall, honeypie. Stand up, Supermain."

"...c...c....can't..." he wheezes. "I'm...too...weak...."

"Alrat then, get on all foahs, ya big galoot. I may want to ride you."

"...Wonder woman....dying...." He pleads.

"Damn, sugah. You got a point theyah. Fine, we'll play laytah. Sit up like you just did befo'ah."

"Ohhhh....uuunnghhhh...." The world's most powerful man shows what he's capable of by sitting up in place. Quite an achievement for the wavering dull-eyed stud. "Whatt..ahrr... yah gunna do....t'us..."

"What did I say about questions, stud muffin? I know you heard me. I know that," Scarlett O'Shea circles in front of the dazed and confused man in the tight fitting blue and red uniform. "Well, we'll have to work on yo'ah listening skills, Supermain." With a clear shot to his head now, Scarlet wings one of the deadly green bars at Superman's face for a knock out blow. His hand reaches up in time with pure instinct and he actually snatches it in mid-air, holding it tightly for one second. And then the burning radiation is too much and he is forced to release the deadly stick with a pained yelp.


"Don't tell me you just did that, Supermain!" She pulls the weapon back and then goes to work on the Man of Steel with a vengeance, swinging the two deadly green glowing steel bars this way and that, holding it tight by the chain and then by the ends. It's all over in just twelve seconds.

"Don't...." A smash to the mouth takes out two teeth and will require a rewiring of Superman's jaw.

"Touch..." A backhand cross swipe takes out Superman's right orbital lobe, crushing half of it to small bone shards.

"My....." His Adam's apple is knocked out of position causing Superman to cough out loudly in a strangled choking wheeze.

"Nun-Chucks!" The back of Superman's head lights up in searing white pain as she fractures his skull in the same place she'd clobbered him before. This sends the defenseless male hero into a deep black hole that has no bottom Superman collapses onto his face and lies there completely inert.

Taking a shot at a second cop who's trying to save Superman's life, Bruno wings the man in the shoulder. The large bull who's stupid enough to try such heroism while only a week away from his 20-year pension retreats with a wound that should earn him an extra 20 bucks a week in his pension. He considers himself lucky for his effort and high tails it back to the café where statements are being taken from witnesses and no one is trying to save Superman.

"On three. One...Two...Three! Lift." Bruno strains with all his might, holding Superman by the armpits. Jerry's got his feet and Scarlett has a firm grip on his trunks. With a huge effort the three of them are just able to manhandle the 6 foot two 275 pound Man of Muscle into the van.

"God what a load," wheezes Jerry.

"I'll say," Scarlet agrees peering deeply into Superman's trunks with an appreciative eye.

"People, there's our ride!" Bruno says, waving towards a large vehicle on the Avenue of the Americas 150 fifty yards away. "Jerry, close the back door and pile in. I'm driving. Come on, make it quick."

"This lock's useless," Jerry says.

"Fine, use this rope to tie the handles," Bruno says, chucking a short length of plastic rope at him. "Double time Jerry! Scarlett, you stay back there and keep an eye on Superman. Make sure he stays put in transport. I don't need this guy waking up on me before we can get him secured at Carmine's.

"Don't fret about him, sugah. I got big plans for this ole' big blue boy he'ah! He'll be quiet as a lamb, I assure you that."

"Doors roped," Jerry announces. "Let me come up front and let's get out of here."

"Great. Alright people, it should take 10 minutes to the switch-out point. Scarlet," he says tossing her a package of gauze and then a roll of white medical tape, "please plug up that cunt's bullet holes so she doesn't die on us. Tony paid a lot of money for her to come back alive."

"Well, I'm no nurse, but I'll do what I cain, Bruno."

"That's all I'm asking."

On Sixth Avenue, the Freight Hauler that Carmine has sent turns out to be a huge Mayflower moving van with a ramp already lowering down automatically off the tailgate. Once he takes the corner at 40th Street, he maneuvers into position and then Bruno drives right up into the large eighteen wheeler and then cuts the engine. The moving van's driver pushes a button to retract the ramp. That done, the moving van gets underway, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel and a prearranged switch-out with another moving van inside the tunnel to avoid the possible capture by the single police helicopter now circling overhead.

Inside the van, meantime, Scarlett O'Shea is tending to a shivering Wonder Woman.

"I believe little miss wonderful he'ah is going into shock, Bruno."

"Take off Superman's cape if you can and cover her with it."

"Oohh, I get to strip the Main of Steel. How thrilling."

"Just be sure you keep Wonder Woman breathing til we get her to Carmine's doctor."

"Well, sugah, you ah the one who put so many bullets into her. If you hadn't a turned her into Swiss cheese, she might'n not be at death's do'ah rat now."

"Just plug her wounds, I had to be sure we took her down."

"She's surely down, sugah. For yo'ah sake, you betta hope that she's not out. Permanently." Even as she's talking, Scarlett is unclasping Superman's cape. "Jerry, hon, be a doll and help me roll over Mr. Tall, Dark and Stupid he'ah so I can get his cape over Wonder Woman."

Reaching back over his chair, Jerry manages to tip Superman's shoulders enough so Scarlett can yank his cape from under his limp body. This she throws over the inert heroine's shivering body with a snap of her wrists. Then, working quickly she searches the black-haired beauty's body for the most serious wounds. She counts six or seven that need immediate attention.

"Lord, what a mess," Scarlett shakes her head. Despite the accent, this is no ignorant woman working on Wonder Woman's wounds. Her actions are deliberate, quick and surprisingly gentle. She dresses the major wounds as best she can, but has doubts.

"I've slowed the blood flow considerably, sugah," she says to Bruno. "But those bullets have to come out real soon or she's still gonna die."

"I know. Carmine's doctor is waiting. Ah, good. There's the other vehicle." They are just inside the Lincoln Tunnel now, heading toward New Jersey. The other vehicle is an eighteen wheeler with a Piggly Wiggly logo on the side. "Scarlett, is Superman still out?"

"For now, ye'ah, but I got a few things to do to make shu'ah he stays out of trouble," Scarlett says, removing two pair of handcuffs from the small waistpack at her hip. She locks up the limp hero's wrists first and then his legs. For now he does not even stir.

As they reach the halfway mark of the tunnel, the Piggly Wiggly truck suddenly slows and stops dead in the middle of the tunnel. Cars start honking instantly. Two men pop out from the front truck. Taking careful aim and using silencers to keep the terror to a minimum, the two men shoot out the four nearby cameras mounted on the tunnel walls. Then one man moves quickly to the rear door while the other holds off traffic from the New York bound side with his outstretched waving hand. He then starts to direct traffic around his truck from the cars on the New Jersey bound side. Bruno stops his own van and Jerry hops out and starts directing traffic the same way around the Mayflower moving van. Within a loud honking two minutes, the switch is made. Bruno's van holding the defeated two superheroes is now inside the Piggly Wiggly truck and the empty Mayflower van is starting it's engine and gearing up to drive to Pennsylvania to a truck stop that Carmine owns.

When the two trucks leave the tunnel on the New Jersey side, the police helicopter is hovering overhead, along with two cop cars. They wave the Piggly Wiggly truck on by and aim their guns at the driver and his assistant in the Mayflower van. They won't be getting to Pennsylvania any time soon. With luck, Carmine may be able to spring them in a year or two. Depends if they're arraigned for traffic violations or as accessories to kidnaping and murder. It all hinged on what happened to Superman and Wonder Woman after Carmine got his hands on them.

Carmine is watching the television and drinking a small glass of lemon seltzer in his suite in the Pleasure Dome building in the South Bronx. He wanted to stay sharp so he wasn't going to be drinking anything hard until the whole afternoon's operation was over.

As directed, Carmine had insulated Tony from any contact with his hit team. His ass was on the line for this little excursion and, so far, things had gone exactly as planned. Wonder Woman had bought his "crisis of conscience" phone call and been taken out brilliantly by Bruno, judging by the video feeds from the networks. They had broken into regular programming and now had almost a constant broadcast alert going with all the action that had occurred at Bryant Park. Christ, that Wonder bitch taken a lot of bullets in the hit! Watching the video he counted more than ten!

Carmine was wondering if she'd even be alive like Tony wanted. Had Bruno miscalculated? What would Tony do if she died? He didn't think it was critical to the operation, but it sure would bring a world of heat down. It would definitely be better if she lived.

And how about Scarlett O'Shea! She actually had taken out Superman! They weren't sure if he'd even show up, but she was ready for him. That video was simply shocking! Not only did he drop like a rock from that kryptonite slime bomb in his shorts, (Thanks again Lex Luthor for that formula!) but his face had been badly beaten by those kryptonite nun-chuks. It was over so fast, he couldn't believe it. She was worth her two million, too. But what the hell were they going to do with Superman for now?

With Tony out right now meeting with the heads of the five Mafia families that ran the New York Metropolitan area as well as large portions of the rest of the country, Carmine was in charge temporarily. If things went as expected, Tony would be given a commanding role over two of the five families for this little venture today, and Carmine would be stepping up to a higher position with a hefty pay raise to boot from all the revenue streams that would begin to flow like a river of money into Mafia coffers now that Supergirl, Superman and Wonder Woman were all out of the crime-stopping game. As long as Wonder Woman lived and Superman didn't escape, they'd be kings of the world after this. What a day!

Of course, there was still Supergirl to worry about. She had yet to wake up after that clusterfuck of a situation with the Minetti brothers. It had been almost 18 hours since Sergei and Stevie had blown the heads off of Sal and Mario. Just in the nick of time. Maybe. If she came out of this coma or whatever she was in. Carmine had looked over the video feed from the suite about a dozen times. The sneaky bastards had done quite a job on Supergirl. One little angle from a corner camera with about four frames worth of visual showed that Sal had slipped something into Supergirl's drink. Probably some kind of date rape drug, he'd guess. Then they got her all sexed up and, like the whore she was well on her way to becoming, she agreed to do whatever they asked. By the time the drug kicked in, she didn't have the presence of mind to defend herself.

It was only quick thinking by both Sergei and Stevie that the girl was even half alive. Good work there by those two. They just as easily could have missed the choking entirely. Who could tell she just wasn't cumming in that situation. Especially with the way those pricks covered it with their loud voices and physical slights of hand. It was too damn close. If Stevie hadn't noticed that Sal wasn't moving his dick at all and Sergei hadn't been clued in to the developing hit by Mario's outburst about her actually coming during the choking, well, who knows what the results of Supergirl dying would be? Even now it was iffy with her not waking up yet.

Still, it seemed that Tony and he were living under a lucky star it seemed when it came to this broad. Hopefully Wonder Woman was under the same protection. She'd be in the hands of Tony's doctors in about six minutes now, in his Secacus hideout not far from the tunnel. They sure were keeping Tony's doctors busy these days. Carmine hoped they were reliable. There were a lot of people in on this whole thing by now. Too many for his liking.

The complication with the Minetti brothers getting killed by Tony's men wouldn't go over well with Don Lupenzo, the head of Minetti's crew. Carmine knew that was a given. But Tony could talk his way through that. His protection required the subjugation of Supergirl, not her death. The public had to think she had a chance of being saved to keep the police in check somewhat. If the Minetti brothers had killed her, that plan would go out the window and way too much heat would come down on every Mafia family. As it was things were already mighty hot. Now with Wonder Woman and Superman taken, who the hell knew what the outcry would be?

They were playing for huge stakes. Tony's idea of returning Superman alive would help keep the heat off. Carmine had to admire the brilliance of his young protege. He'd eclipsed him completely and yet Carmine was proud of the young man. He'd made a name for himself in no time among the families and, if he could pull this off, there'd be no stopping him. Still, it was a big if!

His cell phone rang and he was hoping it was Bruno checking in about reaching Secaucus and getting Wonder Woman's wounds tended to. But this was Stevie's cell number.

"Yeah, Stevie. What's up?"

"You better get up here," he says darkly.

"Oh god. Is Supergirl dead?"

"No. But she sure ain't herself. Come on up, Carm. I don't know what to do!"

"On my way!" Carmine dashes for the elevator and wonders if his and Tony's lucky star has moved out of position.

End of Chapter 21

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Supergirl Captured by the Mob part 21