-- Now --

"Entering the perimeter."

Vine killed her comms and withdrew her fingers from the ivy leaf. The plant covered much of the yard, up to and including the building that was her target. Her contact with it had afforded her an extended sensory web of everything around the structure. She knew now that there was one guard on each side of the rectangular bunker, as well as two in a security booth at the entrance.

Possessing black hair and clothes, along with a dark complexion, aided in her stealthy movement across the open terrain beneath a cloudy, nocturnal sky. Though the helpful weather conditions were not under her control, she had deftly chosen the hour of the mission as one that would benefit her the most.

She reached the first side of the building undetected. A moment later, she crept up to the unseeing guard. A stiletto-heeled kick to the stomach emptied his lungs of air, and a complementary uppercut to his chin felled him. Finally, a quick spray into his face with a micro-aerosol ensured he'd be out for hours.

Guard number two succumbed to a series of rapidly delivered rabbit punches, then inhaled his share of sleeping gas. His counterpart on the third side of the building detected the slinking superheroine just before she delivered a boot to his thigh. Vine had aimed the kick at his groin, but he moved just enough to deflect it. Hurt but not incapacitated, he readied himself for a fight.

The two combatants dodged around one another for several seconds. But then Vine got a momentary grip on him with both hands. One masterful judo throw into the wall, followed up by a dosing right into his open mouth, ended his part in the scuffle.

She choked out the guard on the fourth wall and silently eased his unconscious bulk onto the ground. He coughed as he breathed in the drugged mist, so she waited a few extra seconds to make sure he'd taken enough into his lungs. He had. Then she crept over to the security booth. And waited. After nearly 12 minutes, the door opened, and a guard stepped out. Time for a stretch and/or restroom break, she surmised. In any case, he didn't look in her direction.

She sprinted, then leapt. Her momentum thrust them both back into the booth. Rapid strikes with her fists, feet, elbow, and shoulder took both guards down before they could sound any alarm. Two more sprays completed their incapacitation.

"Going in."

Again not waiting for a response, she killed her comms. Outside the booth, she drew in a long breath, held it, and exhaled it slowly. Then, she continued with her mission.

-- Before --

"I think we need muscle on this mission," Powerwoman said. "We hit them hard, overpower them, and then when there's no resistance left, we can take our time rescuing the captives."

"I disagree," Vine said. "I think we stand a better chance of getting in and getting the prisoners out with stealth and finesse."

"Stealth and finesse are fine, but they need to be backed up by strength."

"Not if they're executed properly. And the more people we send in, the more chance there is of them being seen, heard, engaged, and defeated."

Powerwoman shook her head in disagreement. Vine shrugged. They had both made their arguments. But neither of them would ultimately make the decision. The Council would do that.

"How small a team are you talking about, Vine?" a Councilwoman asked.

"Just me."

"That's insane!" Powerwoman said.

"I've handled missions like this on my own before," Vine said. "I have the powers and skills required."

The Councilwoman pondered the dissenting views, then turned to confer with the other Councilmembers. A moment later, they gave the order:

Vine would handle the mission. Alone.

"Fine," Powerwoman said in a huff. "Good luck. And don't die."

Vine understood the junior heroine's disappointment. But she also knew the way things needed to go. She would ensure that the job got done.

-- Now --

Though her stiletto heels weaponized Vine's already powerful martial arts kicks, they disallowed the noiseless movement that she required while traversing the slate floors of the bunker. So as soon as she made it inside, she pressed a release inside each boot with her toes. The high-tech shoes unfolded and curled up from around her feet, ending up as thick anklets that could reform into footwear with a touch of her finger.

Now barefoot and sufficiently silent, she tread carefully into the hive of the enemy. As expected and argued to the Council, stealth won the day for her. She reached the room where the prisoners were held without encountering any more resistance.

The door to the room boasted both electronic and physical locks, but she had a device from the Council's resident tech guru, La Profesora--who had also designed her retractable boots--that made short work of the security measures and also signaled to her that no alarms had been tripped.

Cautiously, she cracked open the door and peered inside. Seeing no threats, she quickly entered, then shut the door behind her.

The dimly lit room held four padded, pillowed examination tables and a control board that overlooked all of them. On each table lay a woman, held in place by thick, metallic restraints around her wrists, waist, and ankles.

Vine could tell that three of the women were civilians--though attractive, they were unremarkable in appearance. The fourth woman she recognized as a fellow superheroine--Pacifica, the superstrong, hydrokinetic, Polynesian demi-goddess. Pacifica's costume consisted of only a one-piece, nautical-themed leotard, with no footwear. But the other women were also barefoot.

Atop each of the prisoner's heads resided a helmet-like device, inset with pulsing lights and connected by jointed mechanical arms to the table. The helmets themselves hummed and vibrated in time with their strobing lights, while each woman also trembled or twitched to the eerie rhythm.

This isn't good, Vine thought with a punctuating shake of her head. She recognized mind control technology when she saw it, and its presence here didn't surprise her. The Council's intelligence had indicated a high probability that the captives would be subjected to brainwashing. But that same intelligence had led the superheroines to believe that they had more time to initiate a rescue. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

Vine moved over to the control panel. Changing a setting on the device that had overcome the room's security, she began hacking into the computer interface. The process took about 30 seconds. Then, the panel's screen welcomed her as a vetted user. She lost no time getting to work.

The first thing she investigated was the stage of brainwashing that the women were undergoing. Her query returned an answer: Their inductions were complete, their willpower had been completely subverted, and they were being subjected to a regimen of mental conditioning.

None of that was good news. However, it could have been worse. The conditioning had only just begun, and it hadn't progressed to the level of repetition. Thus, without too much effort on Vine's part or ill effects for the women, it could be reversed.

Vine entered in commands to halt the program. The helmets immediately stopped their humming and vibrating, and their lights ceased flashing, instead remaining on. The women ceased their trembling and twitching as well.

With a sigh of relief that she was making progress, Vine continued entering in commands. In response, the machines began undoing their induction process. The pacification of the women and the diminishment of their willpower ended, and mild stimulation of their brains took place instead.

The three civilians showed no signs of rousing. It would take some time for them to awaken, given how deeply sedated they had been. But almost immediately, Pacifica began to stir. Her eyes shot open, she clenched her fists, and she began fighting against her bonds. Then, her gaze found the woman at the control panel.

"Vine? Thank the waves you're here! You're a sight for sore eyes beyond anything I can describe. Can you get us out of here? I can't make a dent in these restraints."

"Working on it," Vine said, her fingers flying across the console's keyboard. "And it's good to see you, too."

"Hurry. Please. You don't know what it's like feeling this helpless."

"Yep, hurrying. And, believe me, I do."

After several more seconds, Vine found the commands to release the restraints.

"Here we go," she said, as she started to input them.

"Nothing's happening," Pacifica said. "What's wrong? What's going on? Vine? Vine?"

The still-captive heroine noticed that Vine's expression had changed. Relief born of success had faded, to be replaced by a cold, calculating stare.

"Vine?"

"Don't worry, Pacifica. You'll be free soon enough. Then, you and I will free the others, and we'll all get to safety."

"What do you mean 'soon enough?' What's the hold up?"

"Just a slight delay. Nothing to fret over. I just need to finish this up, and we'll be ready to bolt."

"Finish what up? Vine? Vine!"

Vine typed rapidly into the console. She finished with a go command. The restraints didn't release. Pacifica continued to question and protest. Vine looked up and stared coolly at her, offering no response.

-- Before --

"Our intelligence shows that one A-list superheroine and a number of civilian women have been captured by Dr. Hypnotiq's organization. As expected, Hypnotiq has plans to brainwash all of them. The civilians he will likely use as personal slaves to have at his beck and call. The superheroine he will have much more nefarious plans for. He will no doubt wreak much havoc on the city with her, as well as increase his power standing within the criminal community. We can't allow any of this to happen. Understand?"

"Yes."

"You're going to ensure that it doesn't happen. Your powers, skills, and personal experience with mind control mean you're perfectly suited to this task. Agreed?"

"Yes."

"Your mission is to enter Hypnotiq's compound, find the captives, and either stop them from being brainwashed, or release them from his control if they have already been brainwashed. Is that clear?"

'Yes."

"Then, you will brainwash them to serve and obey me, as you do. However, you will not know until the proper time that this is what you're going to do. You will forget that you are my slave and that I've given you these instructions until the appropriate circumstances trigger those memories and your conditioning. I've leaked the necessary intelligence to your esteemed Council. They will recognize, as I do, that you are the most capable agent to successfully carry out this mission. Though they may encounter resistance from others who are passed over for it, or from within their own ranks. You will convince them that you--and only you--are the one for the job. Do you understand everything I've told you?'

"Yes."

"Good," Cyril Wellington said. "Do you as I've instructed. Report back to me with my new slaves when you have completed your mission."

"Yes, Master," Vine said, standing barefoot and blank-eyed before the man who controlled her mind.

-- Now --



"Vine! Vine!"



"Shh. It's okay. Relax. You'll be fine. Everything is going to be okay."



The lights on the helmets began to flash again, first slowly, then faster and faster every few seconds. Then, the humming and vibrating started back up, as well.



The three civilians hadn't fully woken up from the first induction. So they succumbed all the more quickly to this one. But Pacifica had been awake and aware, and was also much stronger and more resilient than they were. She struggled and fought to not lose consciousness, knowing all too well what was in store for her if she did.



All the while she pleaded, yelled, and ranted at Vine. For her part, Vine ignored the outbursts and focused on the task at hand.



Soon enough, Pacifica weakened. She continued to struggle but less vehemently than before. Her verbal protests trailed off, and her physical battle against the restraints ended. Finally, with a literal last gasp, her eyes closed and her body sank down into the padding of the table. Then, under the pulsing lights and rhythmic vibrations of the helmet, she began once again to twitch.



Vine watched the induction conclude and the conditioning of her comrade's now pliant mind begin. She nodded in self-affirmation of her nearly complete task. There remained the challenge of escaping the compound. But she didn't think that would pose too much of a problem.



Then, she had a idea. She opened up her comms, scrambling the signal to avoid its detection by anyone inside the bunker who might be monitoring such things.



"Powerwoman, do you read me? Yes, this is Vine. Objective reached. Captives found. Brainwashing aborted. However...well, I'm not one to deny it when I'm wrong. And I was wrong. Both stealth and power were needed for this mission. It's likely I'm going to need backup for a successful extraction. Are you available? How soon can you get here? That works. Sending you coordinates and directions to where we are inside the base. Thanks, Powerwoman. I owe you one. Vine out."



She killed the comms. And smiled. Powerwoman would get there within the next 20 minutes. That would be more than enough time to brainwash Pacifica into complete submission and unwavering obedience to their Master.



And as strong as Powerwoman was, Pacifica was equally as strong and had other superpowers at her disposal. She was also a more experienced combatant and would not hesitate to use as much force as Vine dictated.



The fight would be brief, and Pacifica would be the victor. Powerwoman would be placed onto the table, restrained, stripped of her footwear, and run through a conditioning cycle. When she had been rendered appropriately servile and obedient, they would all leave together.



Then, Vine would bring five new barefoot, brainwashed slaves to her Master, to serve and obey him right alongside her. Her task would be complete, her mission accomplished, and everything would be right in her world.