Falcon and Domino Ch. 07

A light frost covered the ground that Saturday morning, as the joggers ran around the park - their feet crunching on the crisp tarmac below. Dirk Peterson ignored them as he walked briskly to a bench overlooking the boating lake, where a man with an eye patch sat alone. Checking that no one was watching, Dirk sat down next to the one-eyed man.

'Hello Cyclops,' he said. 'What have you got for me?'

'There are over one hundred tattoo artists in this city, and I've spoken to all of them in the last two weeks. None of them know about a woman with those four tattoos on her ankle. I offered them all a large bribe, and trust me, if they knew who she was, they would've told me, Mr Peterson.'

Dirk was unable to hide his disappointment, but knew that Cyclops was the best informant The Daily Chronicle had, and if he couldn't find the information, then no one else could. Dirk handed him an envelope of cash and left. As he walked back to his apartment, he contemplated his situation. His alter-ego - costumed crimefighter Falcon - was being blackmailed by Domino. She had unmasked him and threatened to release the footage, unless he obeyed her every command.

On a recent encounter with Domino, Falcon had glimpsed her unique victory tattoos on her ankle which she boasted about. He was confident that Cyclops would trace the tattoo artist, but he had failed. His other lead was his utility belt, which he had tricked Domino into leaving her fingerprints on during the previous weekend. The only problem was that she had confiscated his costume, and it was imperative he retrieve it, to get her fingerprints which would nail her.

Dirk was also missing his girlfriend Sadie, who was visiting her family in the Midwest, but would be returning in a few days. He felt that if he could catch Domino soon, then he would be free again – free to start a new life somewhere else with Sadie.

Domino had sent him instructions to meet her in room 25 of The Palace Hotel at 8.00 that evening. When the time came, he slipped on a t-shirt, jeans and a hoodie and took a taxi there. He mused that the previous weekend, it had hosted a costumed convention, where hundreds of guests had mingled around in superhero costumes, but tonight everyone was wearing their regular clothes.

When he knocked on the door of room 25, he was greeted by Domino, who was wearing her familiar short black dress, with gloves, thighboots and mask. He briefly wondered how she had gotten into the hotel without drawing attention to herself.

'I'm so glad you've joined me,' she said, as he entered. 'Every costumed crimefighter needs his costume, so I'm going to let you have yours back.' Falcon's heart rate increased at the thought of getting back his utility belt. 'All you have to do is solve the puzzles.'

'Puzzles? What puzzles?' asked Falcon.

'Simple,' she said, holding up an envelope. 'In here is a clue to a room number, along with a door pass. In each room you'll find part of your costume – there are seven rooms in all, along with a clue and door pass to the next room. Once you've solved all seven puzzles, you'll have your costume back.'

Falcon was suspicious of her words. 'What's the catch?'

'There's no catch Dirk. There will be a taxi waiting for us at the back of the hotel at 9.30. Providing you are there on time, we'll leave together and I'll stop the recording from being released onto the Internet. If you fail to arrive by 9.30, or are not wearing your complete costume, the recording will be released. You have ninety minutes to solve seven puzzles, or else the whole world will know your true identity.'

Falcon knew he had no choice but to comply with her game. 'Give me the first clue.'

Domino passed him a holdall. 'I will, as soon as you put your clothes in here. It wouldn't be fair to make it too easy for you. The clock's ticking, so I suggest you don't waste any more time.' Falcon removed his clothes and handed them to Domino, who shoved them into the holdall, before putting on a long black coat. 'Goodbye Dirk,' she said, as she gave him the envelope and left, leaving Falcon standing alone in the room, naked.

Falcon looked in the wardrobe which was empty, and found no towels or sheets in the room. Domino clearly wasn't going to make it easy for him. He tore open the envelope and found the door pass and a piece of paper with the first puzzle – "The letters in the alphabet, times the suits in a deck of cards." He knew to multiply twenty-six by four to make one hundred and four, therefore he had to go to room 104, which was on the tenth floor. He opened the door, and saw the corridor was clear. Tentatively, he walked to the lift and realised it would be too dangerous to use it. He made his way to the far stairwell and climbed the stairs until he reached the tenth floor. When he emerged in the corridor, he walked briskly to room 104. As he passed another room, the door opened and a woman in a business suit stepped out. When she saw Falcon, she screamed and he ran around the corner to room 104 and entered. On the bed were his red tights and another envelope. He quickly pulled on his tights and opened the envelope to read the puzzle – "The colors of the rainbow, times the blind mice." This was seven multiplied by three, which was twenty-one, and room 21 was on the second floor.

He opened the door and found the corridor to be empty. Although no longer completely naked, he was aware that he would startle anyone else who saw him. He quickly made his way to the stairwell, just as the lift door opened and two security guards stepped out. Wasting no further time, he walked down to the second floor, and to room 21.

Once inside, he saw his red leotard on the bed, which he put on and opened the third envelope. The puzzle read – "The players in a soccer team, times the planets in the Solar System." He knew that eleven by nine was ninety-nine and room 99 was on the ninth floor. He left the room and ran up the stairs to room 99. He put the door pass in the lock, but it didn't open. He tried again, but to no avail. Frantically, he pushed the handle, but it still wouldn't open. Suddenly the door opened, and Falcon was confronted by a woman wearing a robe.

'Can I help you?' she said, and then a man's voice called out from behind her. Falcon realised that this was the wrong room.

'I'm sorry. I must have the wrong room,' he apologised. He was aware that the woman was running her eyes over his lycra-clad body, which left little to her imagination. 'I've just been to a gymnastics competition,' he lied, as he hastily made his way back to the stairwell. He reconsidered the puzzle, and recalled that Pluto no longer qualified as a planet, and there were now only eight planets in the Solar System. This would make eighty-eight as the correct answer to the puzzle. Without further ado, he ran to the eighth floor and entered room 88, where he found his boots and the fourth envelope. The puzzle inside read – "The years in a century, plus the number of Olympic rings." One hundred plus five, thought Falcon, as he made his way back to the tenth floor and entered room 105.

There he found his gauntlets which he pulled on. He saw a clock displaying the time as 8.40, and knew he had almost an hour to find the final three items. He opened the fifth envelope and read the puzzle – "The players in a basketball team, times a baker's dozen." He knew five times thirteen was sixty-five. Falcon opened the door and saw the suited woman talking to the two security guards.

'There was a man exposing himself,' she said frantically.

'OK Ma'am,' said the first guard. 'We'll check these rooms, and if we find him, we'll call the cops.'

Falcon knew that the woman might recognise his face, and he couldn't afford to waste time trying to explain to the security guards. He went onto the balcony and looked down from ten floors up. A security guard knocked on the door, and when Falcon didn't answer, the guard asked the other for the master key. Falcon knew that room 65 was exactly four floors below this room. He quickly tore the bed sheets and made a knotted rope, which he tied to the balcony and threw it over the side. Then he climbed over and lowered himself down the outside of the hotel. When he reached the sixth floor, he climbed onto the balcony of room 65, just as the security guards stormed onto the balcony of room 105. Without hesitation, Falcon smashed the glass door and entered the room.

On the bed he saw his black leather trunks, which he quickly pulled on. He then opened the sixth envelope and read the puzzle – "The signs of the zodiac, times the seasons in a year." As twelve by four was forty-eight, he made his way to room 48, where he found his hood, which he pulled on. Falcon was now only lacking his utility belt, which would be in the final room. He looked on the bed but couldn't see an envelope, and knew it had to be in the room somewhere. He heard a voice from behind him, and when he turned around, saw a dark-haired woman had emerged through a connecting door. She was wearing a stylish blue dress with sandals, and looked as if she was going to a party.

'Are you looking for this?' she said, holding the envelope. 'You must be Dirk. I'm Stacey, by the way.'

'Yes. Can I have it please,' he replied.

'You can have it after your performance. Although, can I ask you to be gentle with Justine. She's led a sheltered life and is very shy,' said Stacey.

'Performance? I'm not a performer.'

Stacey produced a sheet of paper, which she read from, "We confirm the booking of Dirk Dong, the stripping wrestler, to perform a striptease at Justine's bachelorette party at 9.00 at The Palace Hotel on Saturday October 19th. Please note that clients are prohibited from touching the performer at any time, although gratuities may be given after the performance. Signed Di Moon." Stacey looked at Falcon. 'You're clearly a wrestler, although I would've preferred a stripping fireman or naval officer myself.'

Stacey turned and walked through the connecting door, and when Falcon followed her, found himself in a large suite. It was draped in banners and balloons, with a drinks table at the far end. Facing him were a group of about twenty women of all ages. They were all wearing party dresses, and heavy make-up, and a strong stench of perfume hung in the air. It was clear to Falcon that Justine's bachelorette party was well underway, and some of the women were already intoxicated with alcohol.

'Here's the strip-o-gram,' shouted one woman, and the others cheered, raucously.

'Wait,' said Falcon. 'There's been a misunderstanding.'

Two milfs approached Falcon. 'We've paid for this show, so get 'em off.'

'I'm sure you'll be reimbursed ladies,' he said, before turning to Stacey. 'Can I have the envelope please?'

Stacey stepped forward and whispered in Falcon's ear. 'I won't be able to control them for much longer, so I think you should start stripping now.'

Falcon remained defiant. 'I'm sorry ladies, but there's not going to be a striptease tonight.' On hearing this, the two milfs lunged forward and grabbed Falcon by his shoulders, pushing him onto the bed. Within seconds, two other women grabbed his legs, rendering Falcon immobile. A loud cheer then resonated around the suite. Some of the women pulled off his gauntlets and boots, while another climbed on the bed and peeled off his hood. 'No! Stop it,' said Falcon, whose plea was drowned out by the noise of the cheering women.

Another milf pulled off his trunks, and then a younger woman stepped forward and peeled off his leotard, leaving Falcon wearing only his tights. There was a loud gasp, as the women could now see all of his bulges. With his arms and legs restrained, Falcon was powerless to resist them.

'What have we here, ladies?' said one of the milfs, as she started to stroke Falcon's cock through his tights. Falcon felt a tingling sensation, as she expertly tantalised him with her delft touches. He fought hard to control himself, but was no match for the experienced milf, who knew exactly how to control a man's cock. Falcon was unable to prevent his erection from bulging up inside his tights. The milf gave Falcon a smug grin as she stepped away.

Then, from behind the rowdy women, a fresh-faced woman emerged. She was in her early-twenties, with very little make-up and large glasses. She was wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved dress that went down below her knees, and was unlike the other women in both dress and behaviour.

'Go on Justine,' shouted another woman. 'Your last night of freedom.'

When Falcon looked into Justine's eyes, he recognised the look of sheer terror. Justine stepped forward and smiled nervously, revealing an orthodontic brace on her teeth. She knelt down between Falcon's spread legs and tentatively touched Falcon's cock through his tights. The other women cheered and shouted encouragement for her to continue. When he looked into her eyes, he saw the unmistakable look of trepidation. With the other women baying at Justine to continue, she started stroking Falcon, slowly at first. After a couple of minutes, Justine dug her slender fingers inside his elasticated waistband and slowly pulled Falcon's tights down to his knees, to the cheers of the other women. With his cock now exposed and unrestrained, she started to stimulate him.

As she jerked him off, the women all cheered loudly and shouted to her. 'Go on Justine. Milk him good.'

For several minutes Justine continued giving her handjob, and when Falcon looked at her, saw an expression of extreme pleasure on her face. Eventually, as he felt himself about to climax, his body began to shudder uncontrollably. One of the milfs saw what was happening and shouted. 'Look out. He's about to blow,' causing the other women to laugh. Justine increased the speed of her wrist action, and as Falcon reached his climax, she modified it to control his ejaculation, as he shot his load over his stomach and chest.

There was an even louder cheer from the women. 'He's come. Go Justine go,' shouted one woman. Even after Falcon had finished coming, Justine still continued to jerk his cock that was now rapidly going limp. Then suddenly, Justine released his cock, and gave him a nervous smile, before walking away to the bar at the far end of the room.

There was a loud knock on the door, and the two security guards entered. 'We've had complaints from other guests about the noise,' the guard said, and then saw Falcon lying on the bed. 'What's going on here?' he added. Then a woman entered. She was in her mid-thirties, tall, athletic with auburn hair, and dressed in an expensive black suit. She showed her ID badge to the guards.

'I'll deal with this,' she said. The guards left and she turned to face the women. 'The show's over now ladies.' The women walked away to the bar. Falcon got up and staggered back into room 48, followed by the black-suited woman. 'I'm Police Detective Rachel Benton. Are you OK sir?' Falcon nodded, as Stacey entered carrying Falcon's costume, which she handed to him.

'I'm really sorry about this. It's not what I planned,' she said, before returning to the suite.

Falcon went into the bathroom. He knew he had to find his utility belt and get to the taxi by 9.30. Although, he was standing naked in a hotel bathroom with a cop waiting outside. He knew he had to act fast. He put on his costume, and realised his hood was missing. Knowing he had no time to lose, he stepped outside to find Detective Benton holding his hood and the envelope. 'Is this what you're looking for?' she said.

'Yes. Thank you,' he said, as he pulled on his hood and took the envelope.

'You're Falcon, aren't you?' she said.

'No Detective,' he lied. 'I'm just a strip-o-gram performer, who got ambushed by a group of rowdy women.'

'If you're in trouble Falcon, then I can help you,' she added.

'I'm sorry Detective, but you're mistaken,' he said, as he left.

When Falcon reached the stairwell, he tore open the final envelope to read the puzzle – "The wonders of the world, times the days of Christmas." He knew this was seven times twelve and ran up the stairs to room 84. There he found his utility belt, which he clasped around his waist, before running downstairs to the waiting taxi. When he climbed in, he found Domino already there. She was still wearing her long black coat, and was also wearing a black veiled hat which hid her face.

'I'm pleased you made it Dirk. Although, I hear you had a few issues with some excitable ladies tonight,' she said.

'I didn't think it was funny,' he snapped.

'Relax Dirk. I'll go home and stop the recording, just as I promised.'

When the taxi arrived at her lair, Falcon climbed out, and the taxi sped away. When he arrived at his apartment, he removed his utility belt and gauntlets. Then, while wearing latex gloves, he applied a thin layer of dusting powder to his utility belt to reveal Domino's fingerprints. Using a scanner, he captured the prints and uploaded them onto his computer. He then e-mailed them to his friend Ramon, who worked in the Police Forensics Department.

I was almost lunchtime the following day, when Falcon received a phone call from Ramon.

'Those were very clear fingerprints you sent me,' said Ramon. 'I've ran them through the computer, but there's no matches.'

'Are you sure?' said Falcon. 'They came from a felon.'

'Maybe, but we don't have any record of this person's prints. I've also checked them against all the other police departments in the country, as well as the FBI, and we've no record of this felon yet.'

Falcon thanked Ramon, but was disappointed and shocked to hear that the police had no record of Domino. His plan to identify her by her fingerprints had failed. He also hadn't been able to trace her by her tattoos, despite Cyclops best efforts.

A few miles away in room 66 of The Palace Hotel, Rachel Benton gazed out of the window, as she recalled the previous evening's events. She had heard the glass of the balcony door smash in the adjacent room and saw Falcon leave. She followed him to the fourth floor and entered the suite after the security guards had been called. Rachel was grateful that they didn't notice that her ID badge was for her own police department back on the West Coast, as she had no jurisdiction here. She knew for sure that the man in the costume was Falcon, as she had recognised him from the previous weekend at the convention. He had been with a blonde woman, who had forced him to unmask in public – something no costumed crimefighter would ever do willingly.

Rachel was an experience cop, and when she looked into Falcon's eyes last night, she could tell that he was in trouble. Her instincts told her that the woman was blackmailing him. Rachel didn't know who the woman was, or what exactly was happening, but she would help Falcon. For not only was Rachel a cop, but she also had an alter-ego of her own. One that would help Falcon in his hour of need.