Wonder Woman in London #3

Wonder Woman was created by Dr William Moulton Marston in 1941 and is the © copyright trademark of DC Comics. My Wonder Woman stories are only fan fiction and based, primarily, on the 1970s CBS TV show (albeit, updated to the present time of writing). However, any resources from adaptations and the comics may be utilised. All characters are entirely fictional. With the exception of Diana / Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor, the story and characters are my own creation, unless otherwise stated. In my stories there are no other superheroes in the world, except for Wonder Woman. 

  

For Part 2 Click Here    

 

3. Meet Harry Charmers

Wonder Woman leaped upon the roof of The Jamaican Inn. Seconds later, Shandy Reynolds emerged in the courtyard, below. Crouching behind the building’s bricked chimney stack, she watched Inspector Cummings dashing across the road into the pub. Two squad cars were outside with their lights and sirens blazing. Diana thought it best to use Wonder Woman discreetly, in London, and not draw unnecessary attention to her presence there; so she patiently waited for all onlookers to pass, before ascending into the air. 

By this time, Ochieng James had flagged a passing cab on Camden High Street, outwitting the hapless detectives following behind by foot. None of this bothered Diana, witnessing events from her aerial view, like an eagle stalking her prey.

James exited the taxi outside an apartment block in Millwall, near the Thames. Hovering in the sky, above, Wonder Woman had already deduced he was visiting Fadhila Zuma’s home on the third floor. Taking an educated guess, she landed on one of the balconies, overlooking a canal. The balcony door was slightly ajar. The window view was relatively secluded by hanging clothes. Diana was lucky to be able to take cover behind drying towels on the line. She peered into the window to see a tall, slender, mixed race girl with long braided hair speaking to Ochieng in the lounge. Their conversation would have been mainly inaudible to an ordinary human, but was easily overheard by Wonder Woman.

“Fuck, man! Fadhila, I tell ya, some bad shit’z happening!” yelled James.

Fadhila clenched his bulky arm, “What do you mean?”

Ochieng looked at her, ambivalently. “That bad smack iz gonna send uz down, babe. An American agent tried to buy that shit from me earlier. She knew the code, man. She knew your name. You know tis bitch, Diana Prince?”

“Never heard of her, man, but if she is an American agent, we’ve got big trouble.”

“I should have sorted Charmers out when we knew it was shot.”

Zipping up the back of her figure-hugging, black strapped summer dress, Fadhila fiercely disagreed, “Don’t be stupid, man. Owen would never let you mess-up Harry.”

“Hey, man, you think I’m scared of that little-"

He didn’t finish his sentence. James grasped Fadhila Zuma’s wrist.

“You not even surprised, are you?” he said, “You know why the Americans are investigating our stash.”

Zuma pulled her arm away, “Of course, I know, fool! While you’re living it large on the town, in the gym - or another honey’s bed - I’ve been keeping my eye on business. Harry shipped the same dope out there.”

“I knew it, man! I knew it!”

“Stay calm, stay here and chill, man. I’m going to work. I’m going to speak to Harry,” told Fadhila on her departure.

As Ochieng stood in thought, he subconsciously registered the perfect curvature of Wonder Woman’s left buttock in her star-spangled shorts, transitorily, exposed behind the towels flapping in the wind. When he looked again, she was gone. 

 

“Good grief, Diana, there you are!” exclaimed Inspector Cummings, as she strolled into his office. “We’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve just come off the phone from giving your own Steve Trevor a full description of what you were wearing the last time we laid eyes on you – nice fellow, by the way – values the finer details, like my good self.”

“Sorry to have worried you, Inspector, but I’ve been following a lead – oh, and then I got changed,” Diana causally explained.

The Inspector nodded with regret that Diana was now formally dressed in a soft pink summer shirt and trousers. “Yes, I can see that. I also see you loused our operation up. From now on, you will act as an observer only, in this city.”

Completely dismissing Cummings’ perceived authority, Diana interjected, “Inspector, Ochieng James isn’t important. He should be arrested for dealing. It’s those big fish in the supply chain we need to catch. A month ago, you raided Harry Charmers nightclub, but found no supplies. I think I’ll visit his establishment, myself, tonight.”

“Err, I wouldn’t, Miss Prince,” said Cummings, miserably, “It’s a very seedy little strip joint, run for Charmers by a nasty little hooligan, called Ricky Owen. If they somehow identify you - well, we may never see you again. You must be tired. What I suggest you do is go back to your hotel, get some rest, and we’ll start afresh in the morning.”

Paused for thought, Diana smiled, “You know, Inspector, you may just have persuaded me.”

Cummings clenched his favoured smile, “Good, good. There you have it, you see, that’s the power of reason from a sharp mind, such as mine.”  

Diana rolled her eyes on her way out, muttering, “he never even asked me what my lead was.” 

 

Soho has what people like: there’s vibrancy and diversity, glamour and debauchery, adventure and - sometimes - danger too. The closeness of the day had left the evening atmosphere an intense cauldron of all those things. Charmers’ Nightclub was situated on Walkers Court; an address it shared with other adult entertainment venues; some of which had acquired world famous reputations for what happens beyond the payment booth. 

“Opening in five, Harry,” informed Ricky Owen. “Fadhila has a new girl to audition for you.” 

  

Big Harry Charmers sat propped up on the bar, blowing large puffs of smoke from his cigar, “I don’t recall saying I was auditioning tonight?” Charmers said in his low slumbering style, “But I can never have enough dancers. Tell Fadhila to get her on stage now, if she wants a crack at working here.”

Fadhila Zuma briefly appeared on the pole dancing stage, “Now, dear Mr Charmers, for your eyes only, I introduce to you, Jaime Sommers...”   

From behind the curtains, a beautiful lady emerged wearing a gold tiara, shrouded in a patriotic cape of red, white and blue stars.   

 

Charmers raised his hands in the air. “Alright, darling, I can’t see much of you like that. And don’t waste much time showing me what you’ve got, as we’re about to open.”

“I promise you, I won’t,” said Wonder Woman, untying the cape from around her divine neck and dropping it to the stage.

The cigar lopped out of Charmers’ mouth, as he gorged his eyes on the hourglass figure enfolded in her majestic red bustier and blue star-spangled hot-pants. Wonder Woman’s golden enhancements – her belt, lasso, bracelets and tiara – glistened against the lights of the club; enchanting mystical treasures dazzling the audience.

With her hands laid on her hips, Wonder Woman turned to the pole. “I hope you enjoy the performance.” 

She grasped the pole with both hands and began to shudder it, “You know, Harry, I think this pole is loose.”

Plaster fell from the ceiling as Wonder Woman ripped the pole from its fittings. Swinging it round, she hurled the chrome tube at Charmers; collapsing the stool from beneath him. The portly man landed heavily on his back. Wonder Woman casually dropped off the stage and walked towards the bar. 

Still in shock, Ricky Owen grabbed his trusty baseball bat and swung it, menacingly, in the air. “Get her!” he roared.

 

One man leaped over the bar, only to be horizontally lifted by Wonder Woman, and, effortlessly, thrown back to where he came from. Not the tallest of men, Owen attempted to swerve the bat at her waist, but Diana managed to catch it in time. She tore the weapon out of his hands and shoved it into his gut, curling him back onto a lounge sofa.

Terrified at what he saw, Charmers clambered up on to his feet. “Henry, Gavin,” he called. A robust looking bouncer appeared from the entrance. 

“Gavin, stop her! Don’t let her get me,” shrieked Charmers, clinging to the wall.

All too confidently, Gavin went to hold Wonder Woman. His face was awash with shock when she easily lifted and slid him down the length of the bar. As she did so, two huge hands clasped together around her waist.  

“Argh,” Wonder Woman yelped, as her feet temporarily left the ground against her will.

The giant of a man, known as Henry, savagely squeezed her torso. Like with the most torturous of girdles, Diana’s cleavage ballooned as a tremendous pressure was applied. Laying her hands respectively on his, Wonder Woman was able to slowly prise his suffocating grip apart, and return herself to terra firma. Taking a quick sidestep back, she high kicked the giant in the chest, sending the 20 stone brute hurtling along the floor to the back of the club.       

                

While Wonder Woman was preoccupied, Owen had recovered enough to usher Harry Charmers into his Roller outside. After searching the building, Wonder Woman peacefully retied her cape and left through a fire escape; nobody tried to stop her.

For Part 4 Click Here