Wonder Woman in London #5

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 4 Click Here 

 

5. Meet Radomir Semanic

 

A naked arm, wearing a bulky golden bracelet, eased her way into the assembling crowd. Wonder Woman knelt down next to James’ lifeless body, and briefly held his right hand, “I’m sorry, Ochieng,” she said with genuine remorse.

Then she was off again, finding her way along the crowds of people making their way back to the foyer, on instruction from the House of Wax’s loudspeaker. Security guards in the foyer were preventing visitors from leaving, causing a considerable queue of bewilderment and concern. 

Diana thought her former captors would have escaped minutes earlier. To her surprise, she saw the flashy, brash figure of Fadhila Zuma leave the gathering and return to the exhibits. The quick lockdown by security, combined with high visitor numbers, must have prevented Zuma’s getaway. 

From several paces behind, Diana stalked the villainess between the models, eventually entering the comic book section, which was deserted. Cautiously, Fadhila stepped through the gallery of superheroes. She turned away from the huge Hulk sculpture to see a fantastic figure of Wonder Woman smiling with her hands on her hips - and absolutely motionless. Recalling the fearful chaos caused by Wonder Woman in Charmers’ Nightclub, Fadhila, warily, looked twice at the superheroine – then, again, when Wonder Woman’s face lit up with jubilation at fooling her prey – like a fly in a spider’s web, she lassoed the criminal around her shoulders and pushed her back into the giant gripping green hand of the Hulk.

“All right, you’re compelled to tell the truth,” said Wonder Woman, triumphantly. “Who was your associate, dressed as a highwayman?” 

Fadhila tried to resist but, frustratingly, found she couldn’t, “Argh, Rad-Rad-Radomir Semanic.” 

“And where could we find Radomir?”

“I-I don’t know where he went,” Zuma pleaded, “But he’s probably gone to ‘Charmers’ Marilyn’ – Harry’s barge at Battlebridge Basin. Harry is waiting there, for us to return.”

“Oh, is he…” Diana paused for thought. “How are the drugs shipped to the UK and the States – any chance it’s by boat?”

“Yeah-yes, a chain of small boats,” reluctantly admitted Fadhila.

“Harry’s boat meets them on the Thames. Another narrowboat takes the smack along the inland waterways to a yacht in Bristol Docks, which meets a bigger vessel in the Atlantic. I don’t know the rest...”

Wonder Woman pondered on the information for a moment. “Tell me, why is Charmers killing his own customers? Surely that would be bad for business?” 

Wretchedly resisting the question to no avail, Zuma yelled, “Argh, he’s not – Harry’s furious about the bad dope – it’s Rad-Radomir, he-he wants revenge.”

“Revenge on Charmers?”

“NO! No, some American general – I don’t know his name – but Radomir holds him responsible for the death of his comrades in Afghanistan.” 

Diana looked perplexed, “I don’t understand. How can killing seventy-three innocent people be revenge on one general?” 

The former pain of compulsion turned to elation when Fadhila witnessed Wonder Woman’s failure to comprehend Semanic’s twisted logic.

“Because the seventy-fourth victim will be the General’s very own son!” She laughed, crazily, “The others were a smokescreen to throw the authorities off the trail. He doesn’t care about the collateral damage, only the desired outcome. He won’t stop – cross him and he’ll finish you.”

Wonder Woman sighed, “And how about you, now you’ve told me all this?”

Zuma’s face scrunched into a fester, “He would never hurt me, NEVER! Raddy loves me, he loves… me.”

“Well, from now on you’ll have to make do with love letters from prison,” Wonder Woman said. 

With a tug of her lasso Wonder Woman hypnotically induced Fadhila into a trance, “You are to report your involvement in these crimes to the police now, and tell them everything you told me… You will not remember this conversation.”

Minutes later, Agent Prince was leaving through the foyer of the House of Wax, where Fadhila Zuma had handed herself into police custody. 

The sight of Wonder Woman running around Battlebridge Basin risked attracting an audience, so once having spotted Charmers’ Marilyn from a near rooftop, it was Diana Prince who made her way up the end of the pontoon to where the boat was moored.

Her suspicion of being followed up the pontoon was confirmed when she turned around, next to Charmers’ Marilyn, to see the rodent-faced Ricky Owen approaching from behind. The hatched doors on the stern of the vessel swung open, “Get in, get in,” demanded the unmistakeable voice of Radomir Semanic.

Of the wide-beamed variety, the narrowboat was surprisingly spacious inside, with a varnished pine walls and floors. In the centre of room sat cigar-loving Harry Charmers, blowing bubble of smoke, at his desk. 

“So you’re Diana Prince. Nice to meet you, darling, for the short time we’ll know one another,” chortled Charmers.

He called to Owen, waiting outside at the tiller, “Ricky, get moving, the usual route for disposals – and close the doors.” 

Semanic placed Diana in an armchair on the adjacent wall. She could see him clearly for the first time – his thick jet black hair with bushy eyebrows – who would be considered by many as handsome, if judged on looks alone. Nevertheless, as with Medussa, the ice cold stare could turn all who returned their gaze to stone.    

The chugging engine kicked-in and Diana felt the barge slip away from the pontoon.

“You know, as much as I would like a boat tour, the authorities shall miss me if I’m not back in under an hour,” she claimed.

“You really think we’re going to let you go?” Semanic humourlessly retorted. He disappeared down the short corridor into a cabin, near the bow of the vessel.

“Alone at last,” said Diana, flippantly, glancing across at Charmers.

Burly Harry laughed, “You’re a beautiful girl, if we had time, I’d take you to the bedroom and do, what I’ve done with many a girl on this boat. Sadly, as the police may indeed come looking, we only have a short while to drop you off.”

Diana let out a sigh of relief, “It just goes to show, then, there is an upside to my direst of circumstances.” 

To Diana’s surprise, Charmers found the insult amusing, “Don’t worry, my dear,” he chuckled, “We shall still have some fun when Radomir returns.” 

When Semanic did return, he brought two clunky steel stocks with two holes in them, for each limb. Charmers continued to chortle as Diana, under direction from Semanic waving his knife, was ordered to take her jacket off and place her hands in the binds.

“Do it, otherwise I’ll cut you,” the killer said.

The other stock was bound round Diana’s ankles, but the hideous bondage was not yet complete; Radomir made another two trips to the cabin to bring back four weighty iron ball chains, the size of his hands, which were bolted either side of the stocks.

Suddenly, the room went pitch black as the narrowboat entered Islington Tunnel. Charmers switched the lights on. 

“Ah, perfect timing, don’t you think, Radomir,” declared a bemused Harry.

“You see, Miss Prince, when I said we’d drop you off, I meant where nobody will ever find you again,” and then with menace, he threatened, “Here in your very own black watery grave.”

For Part 6 Click Here