The Scarlet Dove - Issue 01

"Don't you know it's rude to make a lady ask twice?" the heroine said, coming towards him.

Brick froze, lifting his hands in surrender. The scarlet haired beauty grinned, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"Now tell me why you're trying to rob the blood bank," she demanded. "Of all places ..."

"Okay, okay!" Brick replied quickly. "Word on the street is, somebody's paying top dollar for lab equipment."

"Lab equipment," the heroine echoed thoughtfully. "What kind?"

"Any kind, all kinds!"

"And who's paying this top dollar?"

"I don't know."

The Dove pursed her ruby lips and pulled another of the bird emblem pins from a pocket in her belt.

"Serious!" Brick stammered as she leaned down and fixed the pin to his chest once again. "I'm a nobody, I know a guy who knows a guy who knows another guy, that's all I know! I just figured there wouldn't be much security at the blood bank, and we could make a little quick cash."

The superheroine considered this for a long moment, staring Brick down relentlessly, her finger inching closer and closer to the button that would activate the pin.

"Okay! Okay!" Brick stammered suddenly. "I heard the Scarpones are supposed to be making some big time score tomorrow night, now don't shock me!"

"The Scarpones?" the heroine asked, shocked. "Are they the ones buying?"

"I d-don't think so," he replied quickly. "I think they're looking to sell. You know the Scarpone family ain't what it used to be since Don Gino passed."

"And where is this big score?"

"I dunno, just heard about them putting a crew together, real secretive like," Brick explained. "I tried to get on, but like I said, I'm a nobody! That's all I know, swear!"

The Scarlet Dove glared at him a moment longer, then decided he was probably telling the truth. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"Hey, don't mention it ..." Brick began, sounding relieved, but before he could finish, the Scarlet Dove touched the button on her armband, and this time the dove shaped taser pin zapped him into unconsciousness.

Pulling a plastic zip tie from another pocket on her belt, the Scarlet Dove bound the man's wrists, and then pulled another for his ankles. The heroine's specially designed utility belt contained about a dozen of the zip ties, which were made of an incredibly strong and lightweight composite polymer.

In the distance the heroine could already hear sirens headed their way. These idiots! They must have triggered the alarm system. Good, that meant Warden City PD wouldn't have any trouble bringing charges against the three. Bending down she began to bind the other two as well, wanting to make sure none of them would be able to make a getaway when they came to.

The Scarpones had once been the most powerful organized crime family in Warden City. Stopping a robbery they were orchestrating would surely make news!

Not that it was all about the publicity, but she could already see the headlines: "Scarpone Syndicate Foiled by Superheroine!" or maybe something like "Warden City Thanks the Scarlet Dove!"

The bright headlights of two squad cars flashed across her white clad booty just as she was bent over ensuring the three thugs weren't going anywhere. Beneath her mask the heroine blushed, imagining the view of her pert derriere greeting those arriving officers.

Dumbstruck, they jumped out of their cars, one shouting "Hey! Who are you? Stop!"

The Scarlet Dove straightened, flashing them a heart stopping smile, and then she leapt into the sky, soaring off into the night.

Chapter Two

Starling Chase had come a long way since that night at the rock quarry. In those days she had been a lost, aimless teenager, messing around with boys and even older men in order to give herself some feeling of self-worth. But once she had discovered she had the ability to fly, it was as if a whole new world had opened for her. Feeling a sense of responsibility to make the world a better place, she had applied herself to her studies and after graduation had gotten into the journalism school at Northsouthern.

And now that she was an adult and free to do as she pleased, she had returned to Warden City, to the very place from which she and her mother had fled when she was only five years old–the city she hadn't seen since she was a child, the city where her father had been murdered.

Soaring through the cool night air, the Scarlet Dove reached her rundown apartment building on the edge of downtown. Her apartment was in the back, adjacent to the empty lot next door. This, coupled with her neighbors' propensity for keeping their heads down and minding their own business, made it relatively easy for the lissome young woman to slip in and out through her window without being seen.

Safely inside, Starling removed her mask, fingers ruffling her scarlet tresses as she looked around at the colorful furnishings of her little room. Centered on her dresser was the ivory dove statuette, the only memento remaining to her of her father, Jack Kane. Its eyes were glowing with a soft green light, which only she seemed able to see. This glow seemed in some manner to be connected to her power of flight. At times it would be as bright as a laser, and Starling felt as if she could fly to the moon. But after a particularly long and strenuous night, when her body was feeling exhausted, she would return to find the statuette's eyes as dull as glass.

Once more the girl struggled to fathom the mystery of the statuette. She often wondered where her father had acquired it, and under what circumstances. Her mother Sara would never tell her, even supposing she knew, only that he had kept it with him constantly in his office at City Hall. In his office ... at City Hall ...

Suddenly Starling choked up, tears stinging her eyes. Touching the ivory dove on its head, she whispered, "oh Daddy ..."

Brushing away her tears, she undressed for the shower. In the process, Star couldn't resist the urge to examine her buxom shape in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. It was a vain habit, she knew, but somehow she could never pass a mirror without checking herself out. Her mother had always hoped Starling would be a model, and had actively encouraged her to pursue it. Sara Chase had done some modeling before the death of her husband, and as her daughter grew into her own beauty she'd seen the opportunity to reclaim that dream vicariously through her. Starling had played along, mostly to humor her mother but part of her had been drawn to the idea of being professionally pretty...what young woman wouldn't be? Although now she had to admit that she had picked up some particular habits as a result.

She kept her alabaster body completely hairless from the neck down. She stood in front of the mirror now, checking her pale skin over for non-existent blemishes, admiring the delicious smoothness of her shaved cleft. Placing her long, graceful legs together, Starling gently arched her back, thrusting her boobs outward toward the mirror. Her supple globes were plump, firm, and at her age still untouched by gravity's pull. The girl couldn't repress a smile, knowing that her ample chest was a rare gift.

The next thing Starling knew, she found herself automatically striking a model pose, hips cocked to one side to accentuate the feminine curves of her silhouette. Shifting her hips the opposite way, she presented her rounded backside to the mirror. There was no doubt that she had a booty any girl would be proud of: full and tight, a perfect heart shape. She couldn't deny a bit of satisfaction noticing the glances of men admiring the way her perky butt filled out her skirts and jeans.

Turning side-on to the mirror, Starling allowed her hands to slowly caress her stomach, hips, and thighs, watching with a critical eye for any sign of jiggle. There was none of course, yet the girl sensed a certain slackness. Up until recently she had always been salaciously taut. She sighed. Clearly she had been so busy settling into her new job, and her clandestine evening activities, that she had been neglecting the gym since arriving in Warden City. That would never do!

And speaking of her job, she'd better get some sleep if she had to be in at nine o'clock tomorrow! Quickly the girl packed her superheroine costume and gear into the hidden compartment in the back of her armoire and headed for the shower. She found a scalding hot shower had almost meditative properties for her, and she could hardly sleep without one! Afterwards she climbed under the sheets, still naked, and fell into a dreamless sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Bright and early the next morning, Starling reported for work at the River Run, one of the city's oldest and most respected newspapers. She was wearing a leopard-print maxi-skirt topped by a turquoise camisole top, her scarlet tresses fixed into a braided ponytail. As she threaded her way along the busy bullpen area toward her desk, she ran into Charlie the mailroom guy with his pushcart, making his early morning rounds.

"Good morning, Ms. Chase," he gushed, handing her a stack of letters.

Starling took them with a sigh and a forced smile, knowing from experience that they would all be complaints about something she had written in one of her stories. "Thanks, Charlie."

"And Ed wants to see you as soon as you get in."

Starling sighed once again, detouring past her desk just long enough to drop off her clutch purse and her mail before veering to the right toward the editor's glass-walled office. "Ed MEANS Editor, and don't you ever forget it!" he had informed her on her first day. She could see that the stout, middle-aged man was already in conference with staff reporters Lacey Stewart and Alex Jeffers, so she waited outside the office until they were done.

As she waited, Starling's green eyes were drawn to one of the framed front-page stories that were mounted along the nearby wall. She tried not to look, but it claimed her attention like an irresistible compulsion. Dated Seventeen years previous, the dramatic headline screamed, "MAYOR KANE SHOT!" And the photograph that accompanied the headline was of her dad!

The rest of the world sort of faded into the background as Starling felt her gut twisting in anguish, just as it did every time she saw this story. She knew it by heart. How could she not, having obsessively read and reread it ever since she was old enough to understand what had happened?

Her father, Jack Kane, who had dedicated himself to rooting out corruption in Warden City, had been found shot in his own office at city hall. He had lived for only a few hours. The article suggested that the assassination was in retaliation for a series of actions he had taken to curtail the excessive power of the local labor unions, thereby challenging the power and influence of the local mafia.

Sometimes, if she tried really hard, Starling could remember him in his hospital bed, with an IV in his arm and an oxygen tube in his nose. In her memories, he was smiling at her, reaching over to stroke her red hair. And he was whispering, "My dove ... my little scarlet dove ..."

"Somebody you know?" asked a voice immediately behind Starling, making her jump. It was Lacey Stewart, wearing jeans and a black racerback top with sequins on the shoulder straps like epaulettes. Sunglasses were perched in her dark brunette hair.

"What? Of course not!" the younger reporter blurted out. She didn't want anyone in town knowing that she was related to Jack Kane, not yet at any rate ... if only by habit from being raised under her mother's intense paranoia. Her mother had never remarried, far too paranoid to trust anyone that way, and had even changed their name to Chase immediately after leaving the city.

"I'm kidding," Lacey said. "That was WAY before your time. One of the great scandals of this town, actually. The murder was never solved."

"Hey, Chase," said Alex coming out of the office. "How are you getting settled? You've been here what, three weeks? How are you liking Warden City?"

"Oh, it's actually been about three months," Starling stammered. Alex was definitely the office hunk, and she was embarrassed to admit having butterflies any time she spoke with him. "... but, uh ... it's great," she added, putting on a big, enthusiastic smile. "Super even!"

"It's a sewage dump," the editor announced sourly, stepping out behind them. "A pest hole of crime and corruption," he added, pausing to stick an unlit cigar in his mouth. "Take that for example! 'Honest' Jack Kane, a great man and a better mayor, gunned down by the Scarpones; everyone knows it now, everyone knew it then! But did we do anything?" He let the question hang for a long moment, chewing on his cigar. "Course, you haven't been here long enough, Chase. You'll learn!"

"If you say so," the redhead said. Actually I probably know better than any of you, she thought, repressing a smirk.

"Til then, I want you to get over to the firehouse, pronto!" Ed went on. "Engine Company 21 over on Emerald Street. Ask for Sergeant Wilson."

"What's it about?" Starling asked eagerly. Maybe it was a big story!

"You're the reporter, figure it out!" The editor stormed back into his office, screaming for someone else to yell at as he went.

The three reporters watching him go, Lacey shaking her head.

"Guess I'm on it," Starling said, with a shrug. She headed back to her desk to grab her purse, before hurrying down the stairs and hailing a cab.

Her "big story" turned out to be the announcement that this was "Fire Safety Month", which meant that homeowners were urged to check the batteries in their smoke alarms and make certain that oily rags were disposed of properly. As far as she was concerned, the more important story was Sergeant Wilson himself! He was incredibly handsome, with piercing blue eyes, chiseled features, and the kind of jawline you might see on your typical Greek god! Starling felt her heartbeat racing just being in the same room with him. She sat listening to him talk for a whole three minutes with her tablet on her knee before she thought to take down a word he was saying.

"Do you own your own home, Ms. Chase?" he asked.

"What? Oh yeah, I live at Two-" the girl pulled herself up before she blabbed out her address. "Er, no, actually, I rent." Idiot! she thought, mentally kicking herself.

"You should still do a spot inspection of the floor you live on," Wilson said. "Don't rely on the building superintendent to do it. Fire safety is everyone's responsibility, and regular testing saves lives."

"Yeah, don't be like those idiots over at WCD," put in an older firefighter who had been lounging in the background during the interview. "Place almost burned down just last week."

"Er ... what's that?" Starling asked, hoping she hadn't missed an important part of the conversation while she was fawning over Sergeant Wilson.

"Warden City Diagnostics? It's a biometrics lab," the sergeant explained. "They mostly do things like pre-hire drug screenings for corporations, DNA testing for paternity suits, that kind of thing."

"Whole place is shut down right now cuz of one faulty alarm," the other went on. "Some dipshit-"

"Language, Danno," interrupted Wilson. "There's a lady present."

Starling felt her cheeks flush.

Danno rolled his eyes. "I mean because some dip-sy-doodle had too many of those heavy-duty centrifuges plugged into the same line. Almost overloaded their mains."

"Uh ... really? Is that dangerous?" asked the redhead innocently, leaning toward Wilson.

"Sure! Let me show you ..." Danno proceeded to sketch out a plan of the whole WCD laboratory, showing where the major lab equipment was kept.

This is a huge laboratory, the young reporter realized. And it's currently shut down due to fire damage? Sounds like an ideal place for that big score!

Chapter Three

Once the sun went down Starling was back in her white and gold uniform, flying over the city to stake out the WCD lab. However, as she got closer, she could see a large unmarked box truck already parked in the back alley, with the rear doors standing open. A little thrill of excitement rippled up her spine. That thug had been telling the truth!

The Scarlet Dove banked around, swooping down for a closer look. Sure enough, she could see the back of the box truck was opened, and already loaded with stolen equipment. With a slight grin on her beautiful face, the heroine turned towards the open door to the lab. As she further suspected, the door showed clear signs of having been forced open!

She headed inside, trying to move cautiously and quietly. The building of course was separated into several different divisions, each with its own lab area. Thanks to Sergeant Wilson and Danno, Starling knew exactly where to find the most valuable equipment so she wouldn't have to spend time searching the whole facility. She crossed through one area which had clearly been ransacked already, but she could hear a group of voices in the next room over. As the heroine crept towards the door, she began to see flashlight beams swinging back and forth. Crossing the room quickly, golden heels making a bit more noise than intended, she crouched beside the door listening to the group.

"... Anything useful there?" one asked.

"Shit if I know," replied another. "Some expensive looking crap, I'll tell ya that!"

"Shut on up and jus' grab it!" barked a third in a thick Cajun accent. "Da boss said they be paying for anyt'ing, so grab it all!"

Starling had to stifle a shocked gasp, as a nervous titter danced through her chest. In her short career as a crimefighter she'd heard many rumors and street legends. Supposedly, the Scarpones' top hit man was a southerner called "Creole Creed," who apparently spoke with an almost cartoonishly thick Cajun accent. Could this be him?

The heroine listened a moment longer, but there did not seem to be any other voices murmuring around the lab. That made three, hardly ideal odds for her in such close quarters. She preferred to use her flight and speed for hit and run tactics, especially with a foe so purportedly dangerous as Creole Creed in the mix. However, the young heroine had overcome three men just the night before, so she was confident she could take these as well!

The Scarlet Dove straightened and stepped through the doorway, flicking on the lights as she did.

"I don't suppose you boys are the renovation crew," she shouted brazenly. "Because it's well past quitting time!"

The three men were scattered throughout the lab. Starling immediately took note of one man with a darker complexion and even darker hair. He had sharp features, outlined with thick bushy sideburns. He was wearing a grey suit. The others were dressed more casually, in varying shades of black and grey, with ski masks. She felt no doubt which one was the infamous hitman.

Instantly all three men froze and looked in her direction, eyes widening at the sight of the scantily clad heroine. She could almost feel the temperature in the room rise as they scanned over her white bustier and skin tight bottoms, devouring her delectable curves.

Which was all part of the plan. During her preparation for a career of crimefighting, she found that many men, even the disreputable sort she dealt with, did not fight as hard or as well the more evident she made her femininity. Whether they were reluctant to hit a woman, or distracted by less honorable thoughts, she didn't care to guess at.

"You must be de supa-bitch, red bird?" Creole Creed grinned, and straightened his suit some.

"Actually it's 'the Scarlet Dove'," Starling replied, a little surprised he had heard of her. "You should remember it; after all you'll be telling everyone in prison who put you there!"