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  o    Kristen's collection                                         o
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  This is the Super Hero Archive. These stories were sent to me by
  friends. I did not write these stories. 

  Many have no author name attached. If you are the author of the
  enclosed work please let me know and I’ll remedy the situation.

  This story, and all the stories in this archive are meant to be
  free. They where sent freely and should remain public domain.

	Batgirl, Batman, Gotham City and all other characters, except for Pirate King,
were created by and are copyrighted by and are property of DC Comics. This
story has been written solely to occupy my free time, of which I seem to have a
lot. No compensation has been or will be received for this story. This story is
purely for entertainment purposes and cannot be redistributed for the purposes
of making money or profit.
	Any similarity between names characters and places in this story are purely
coincidental.
	Pirate King was created by, and is property of, Glavas K.

Batgirl: Terror Cove
by Glavas K.

Part One

	Even though it was just past dawn, Barbara Gordon was sweating as she loaded
her gear into the large cabin cruiser. She paused to wipe her brow with the
front of her T-shirt, and to make a quick inventory of the items in the boat.
There was an AM/FM radio, a full cooler, and a small gym bag with various items
such as suntan lotion, a towel, and a good book. There was her scuba gear,
including her air tank, which she had just filled. An emergency flashlight and
radio, just in case the ones on her father’s boat failed. And a very special
gym bag containing some very important (and very secret) items.
	She smiled and returned to her Volkswagen Jetta in the marina parking lot. She
locked the vehicle up, cracked one of the rear windows, and grabbed an extra
bottle of water before returning to the boat.
	While growing up, she had spent many weekends with her father on that very
cabin cruiser, motoring around Gotham Bay and enjoying the water. James Gordon
hardly gave her request to use it a second thought, lovingly telling her to be
careful before tossing her the keys.
	Barbara untied the boat from its mooring and hopped in.
	I don’t think daddy would be as casual, Barbara thought, if he found out that
his boat was going to be used by Batgirl this weekend!
	With a impish smile, Barbara Gordon guided the boat out of the marina and into
Gotham Bay, the whole time patting the gym bag laying on the seat next to her.

		*				*				*

	As the boat, named after her mother, turned south and sped along the
coastline, Barbara thought back to the purpose for the excursion on that
particular day.
	Three weeks before, the private yacht owned by Mr. & Mrs. Edwin Eldrich was
partaking in a small party cruise south of Gotham Bay. At one point in the
evening, the Eldrichs and their small group of friends had been horrified to
find that most of their valuables had mysteriously disappeared. The only clues
for the Gotham detectives had been wet flipper tracks that led into the state
room where the coats and purses had been laid out. No one had heard nor seen
anything during the party. Not surprising with the amount of alcohol that had
been consumed that night.
	The value of the various items which had disappeared was roughly $330,000.00.
An amazing figure, but relatively small considering what the rich foolishly
carry around with them to the oddest of places.
	So far, Barbara thought as she released the wheel and stripped off her
sweat-soaked T-shirt, no suspects save those on board, including the staff of
four.
	One week later, the Rieser family had thrown a small birthday party for their
son William. Their yacht was the setting of the party, and they decided on the
south of Gotham Bay as the location. Poor choice	Sometime during the
night, they were secretly boarded and robbed. This time, the pirates only got
around $100,000.00. The only clues were, again, wet flipper tracks leading to
the scene of the theft.
	Last Saturday night, exactly two weeks and one week after the previous thefts,
a charity cruise was sailing the coast just south of the bay. By the end of the
evening, the guests were out $760,000.00, collectively, and the charity was out
$500,000.00. Again there were wet tracks and no suspects.
	Barbara’s father, Police Commissioner James Gordon, with the aid of
billionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne, had set up another cruise for that evening.
Bait for the pirates. The enormous Wayne yacht would be cruising the southern
coast, as had the other three cruises, but this time, the guests would be
police officers and detectives.
	Unfortunately, Batman had contacted her the day before and told her that he
and Robin were going to be hunting the Penguin up in Boston, so he would not be
around. Batgirl figured that was a lie so that Gotham would think the Dynamic
Duo was out of town. Word would surely spread to the pirates and they would
think themselves relatively safe.
	A good enough plan, but Barbara had done some homework on that particular case
and she believed that she was one rung closer to the pirates than the police.
	On the summer weekends, several cruises and yachts leave from Gotham Marina
and sail the coast. Barbara had checked her maps of the area and discovered
that the piracy had all happened within a mile of a secluded cove named Raven’s
Cove.
	Barbara again released the wheel and wiggled out of her wet cut-off shorts.
She took the wheel once more, dressed only in a paisley-colored two-piece
bikini and sunglasses. Her long, red hair flew behind her in the wind.
	There’s a chance that Dad might not even run into the pirates tonight, she
thought as she turned the wheel towards the land. And Batman and Robin won’t be
any help because they’re up at the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston trying to foil
another scheme of the Penguin’s. It looks like it’s up to Batgirl to net these
pirates!
	With that, Barbara Gordon guided the large boat into the silent Raven’s Cove.

		*				*				*

	With her binoculars, Barbara scanned the beach and the cliffs around the cove.
Her anchored boat hardly bobbed at all in the still waters. When she was sure
that she was alone there, she stood and removed her bikini.
For a moment, she admired her own fine, athletic body. She ran her hands over
the muscles in her arms, nodding in approval at the definement she had attained
through her years of training. She cupped her healthy breasts and squeezed
them. No, they were not overly large, but they were firm and close to perfect.
Her hands slid down her flat stomach and quickly over the trimmed patch of red
hair between her legs. She squeezed her thighs and calves. pleased with the
strength that was visibly apparent in them.
	That was good because she would need all of that strength and athleticism on
that day. Not only would she be scuba-diving for most of the day, but she might
come across a band of pirates of unknown numbers and strength. She would have
to be in the top of her form for on that day there would be no back-up. No
cavalry. No Batman and Robin.
	Just Batgirl.
	And part of her said that was just fine. She had gone up against some of the
deadliest criminals spawned by Gotham and come out on top. She had gone alone
where, together, Batman and Robin had tread. She was confident in her own
abilities and, most of all, her intellect. Batgirl would dominate.
	Time to get busy, Barbara thought as she removed the items from that
nondescript gym bag.
	She donned a purple bikini that had a small Bat symbol on both the top and the
bottom. With some specially designed spirit gum, she affixed her new eye mask
to her face. Out was the old, hot, uncomfortable cowl. The new eye mask at
least made her feel as if she had more freedom.
	Around her slim waist, Barbara fastened a specially designed, yellow utility
belt. The new belt had waterproof compartments, and most of the items inside
were in vacuum-sealed plastic bags formulated to bio-degrate after coming in
contact with water. The belt had all its usual surprises, including acid and
gas pellets, and some new ones, including some OC pepper spray foam for
underwater use and an electric-prong stun gun. The belt also doubled as a
weight belt.
	Her flippers and mask were top of the line models for maximum performance in
the water. Around her calf she strapped a special “Batgirl” edition of the
Anguilla Reef Rider knife. The yellow handled knife had a line-cut groove on
the top of the 8” stainless steel blade.
	Strapped to one wrist was a yellow and purple diver’s watch that was
guaranteed to be waterproof for down to 200 meters. On her other wrist, a
powerful, but compact, yellow flashlight was strapped. The flashlight was also
designed to be waterproof.
	Barbara slipped into the harness for the tank and checked the rebreather.
After she satisfied herself with another check of all her equipment, Barbara
knew that she was ready to go. She took a couple of breaths through the
mouthpiece and then Batgirl slipped over the side and into the water.

		*				*				*

	The water felt perfect, although it was far from crystal clear, but with
Gotham less than 25 miles to the north, it was to be expected. Fish turned away
as Batgirl kicked through the water. She felt good, probably because she had
practiced after she left the library in the past week, readying herself for
this mission. The last thing she needed was to be exhausted upon encountering
any pirates.
	She did not expect to find much, however the smallest clue would have been
better than nothing. She was just buying time until the evening when she would
stake the area out and wait for the pirates to make whatever move they were
going to make.
	She certainly did not expect to find an underwater cave.
	The cave was on the south cliff wall of the cove, and it was enormous. Its
diameter was easily 50’. The top edge of he cave was about 25’ below the
surface and was covered by some seaweed. With popping ears, Batgirl slowly
descended to the cave mouth.
	She could hardly see very far outside the cave, and the obvious lack of
sunlight inside the cave would have left the crime fighter completely blind
after a few yards. Batgirl turned her flashlight on and cautiously proceeded
into the cave. The cave appeared to be of natural origin. It was well populated
with small fish and a jungle of plant life on all surfaces. Some of the fish
stayed away from the beautiful intruder, while others, filled with curiosity,
swam up as close as Batgirl’s face mask.
	She was not sure how far she had swam, but it was relatively far. It was hard
for her to measure distance in the murky world around her, but it felt as if
she had traveled a distance equal to that of ten Olympic-sized pool lengths.
That was when a light began to appear in front and above her. The light was
diffused by the murk in the water, but Batgirl decided that the cave must open
up into an area above the water. And there was something else.
	Something large bobbed in the water ahead of her. It was half in and half out
of the water, and it seemed to be some sort of boat. Slowly, Batgirl approached
the large object, using the reeds on the tunnel bottom to keep her as far away
from the boat as possible. Soon, she realized that she was looking at some sort
of submarine. It was small compared to ones she had seen at the Naval Base in
Gotham or the ones in the movies; a mini-sub, perhaps. She released the reeds,
allowing herself to float up a little; wanting to see if there were any kinds
of insignia of markings on the vessel. A hunch began to form in Batgirl’s mind.
	I’d be willing to bet my Batbelt that this sub is the  S.S. Riddler, or the 
S.S. Catwoman, or something to that effect. Whoever they are, they’re probably
behind the piracy in recent --
	Suddenly, and without warning, the mini-sub’s engines roared into life,
spinning the propellers furiously. Batgirl gasped as she was yanked upward,
toward the rotating steel blades. She fought and kicked, pumping her arms
crazily to get enough momentum to pull away and break the propellers’ pull. Her
efforts were to no avail, however, as the current dragged her helpless, young
body towards the hungry blades.

		*				*				*

	And just as quickly as the blades turned on, they turned off. Batgirl was shot
off to the side and struck the support post for the mini-sub’s dock. Dazed, she
floated to the surface. Groggily, she climbed the ladder for the dock and
staggered towards the shadows of some stacked crates. She removed her face mask
and mouthpiece and took a deep breath. The air was damp and filled with salt.
	Batgirl, water running off her body, took a look around the cave as she
removed her air tank; she had no desire to return to the water too soon.
	The cave was quite large, maybe 50’ from the water’s surface to the rocky
ceiling. A wide ledge encircled the water at ground level, acting as a kind of
sidewalk. The dock was made of thick wood, and seemed to be solely for the
mini-sub. The mini-sub itself was just that; a small sub that had a World War
II appearance about it. A gangplank led up to the top, where the hatch was
open. No doubt so that whomever turned the engine on could breathe relatively
more easy. There was  some kind of symbol painted on the bow, but she was
unable to see it from where she stood.
	What Batgirl was also unable to see was the dark from looming out of the
shadows behind her. A thick arm wrapped around her wet waist and picked her up
off the ground. A hand that stank of machinery and grease clamped over her
mouth, muffling her cry. Still groggy, Batgirl could do nothing but struggle
against her assailant, her wet, red hair plastering the man’s face.
	“Hey!” He cried. “Hey, Fore! I got her!”
	She struggled more now, trying to pry his hand from her mouth.
	“Got ‘her’?” Another replied.
	“Oh yeah! We’re going to have fun with this one!”
	The hint as to her fate spurred Batgirl into action. She raised her legs up
and brought one of her feet back into the man’s groin. He made a noise that
sounded something like someone blowing out candles on a birthday cake, and then
he dropped her. The Girl Wonder wasted no time and ran out from the crates to
where she could maneuver better.
	Another man was running from the other side of the mini-sub. He was a fairly
muscular man wearing a black knit cap, a black sweatshirt with the word “FORE”
on it, and jeans. He was coming right at her.
	Batgirl turned and ran in the other direction, only to be grabbed by an
identically dressed man; the only difference was the word “STARBOARD” on his
sweatshirt. Batgirl squirmed in his hug. In seconds, she popped free, her
slick, wet skin aiding in her escape. She scrambled to a tunnel at the near end
of the cave, one that had originally gone unnoticed by her.
	Before she could reach the tunnel, the beautiful crime fighter was tackled by
one of the men. She wriggled and twisted, trying to use her knowledge of judo,
and her slick body to escape, but then one of the other men grabbed her as
well. She grunted and gasped, fighting them with every once of strength she
could muster. The two men, unfortunately, seemed to counter her every move with
their combined efforts. They would grab her wrists if she got them free to
scratch their eyes. They would pin her knees and legs if she tried to strike at
their groins or stomachs. They would grab her wrists, again, if she tried to
reach her utility belt. She was well trained and slippery, but there was two of
them and she would dry soon with the men’s bodies pressing down on her. Someone
would tire first, though, and whom that would be was anyone’s guess.
	The third man moaned pitifully from behind the crates.
	The tide was turned in moments when a fourth man jogged out of the tunnel that
Batgirl had been trying to reach. He was soaking an oily rag in some liquid
from a bottle.
	Chloroform!  Batgirl thought with alarm.
	The fourth man, whose sweatshirt read “PORT”, knelt beside the wrestling trio
and extended the soaked rag.
	“No!” Batgirl cried, twisting her head away.
	With her attention now focused on Port, the other two men secured her arms and
legs. Despite Batgirl’s twisting, the rag covered her mouth and nose. She had
managed to get a lung-full of air, but the chemical was working its spell
anyway. She moaned and fought against it, but lost the battle when her lungs
made her take a breath. She inhaled the fumes with a moan. Slowly, her
struggles began to cease. Her vision was blurring. Her eyes became heavy. The
wicked smiles of the men began to lose their contrast. She moaned again, a plea
this time. It was ignored.
	The last thing that Batgirl felt before she drifted off was a hand massaging
one of her breasts, and another sliding beneath her bikini bottom toward her
crotch.

		*				*				*







