Porter Island Chapter Nine (standard:adventure, 1551 words)
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Feb 10 2025	Views/Reads: 42/13	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Super-Agent Betty McCloud is coaxed out of retirement for her toughest assignment yet.

Chapter Nine 

A musty, damp smell, rain bouncing off a tin roof, and an intense,
piercing headache brought Betty's senses starkly back. 

“The lady awakes.” The derisive male voice came from across the room.
Precisely where, Betty couldn't say, bound hands and feet to an ancient 
bedstead with no mattress. At least, that's how it felt. Betty groaned. 
“I'd ask what I'm doing here, but no doubt you'll tell me in your own 
time.” 

“You seem remarkably calm, Ms. Thornton, considering,” the male
continued in a harsh, tinny accent, “but then, by what we've learned, 
perhaps we shouldn't be surprised by that. 

“And what have you learned?” Betty tried to force her head up, but
without ripping the binding to shreds, which could wait, she couldn't 
manage it. 

“Not half as much as we need to,” another voice, this time throaty,
suggestive of too many cigarettes, called through an open inner door,  
“which is why you're here.” 

Betty let that remark pass for a moment, needing to know something else.
“I pulled a dart out of my arm, presumably poison. I can normally 
resist succumbing to such treatment, but not this time, so what did you 
inject me with?” 

Betty watched a small cloud of smoke drift toward the ceiling before the
speaker replied, “You have a very impressive physique, Ms. Thornton, so 
I'm not surprised by what you say. But no, don't worry, it's nothing 
that will incapacitate you permanently, though that will be forthcoming 
if you don't cooperate.” 

Betty heard footsteps on the concrete floor, and then a tall, burly
figure stood over her. No matter what she said, whoever her adversaries 
were, they'd seek to eliminate her. Evidently, they knew she was 
strong, just not how strong. Betty sighed; she felt tired, but not so 
tired that she couldn't do what needed to be done. “I'm afraid I can't 
wait around for you guys to interrogate me. We'll do a quick role 
reversal.” 

“Oh, really.” Gazing up, Betty glimpsed a pockmarked face and a leering
and sardonic smile. 

“Yes, really.” Betty breathed in; her powerful frame swelled, her biceps
rose, and a snap cracked through the air as the bindings submitted to 
her massive power. Exerting her leg muscles almost simultaneously, the 
rope securing her feet to the bedpost broke under the strain as Betty 
instantaneously leaped from the bed onto the thug, swinging him around, 
her legs clasping his midriff while her mighty arms squeezed into his 
neck. 

At the sound of his gargled cry, his two colleagues raced through the
door to her right. A tall, willowy male whipped a gun from his belt. 
“Put it down,” Betty warned, her jaw clenched. “Or I'll break his neck 
before a bullet even leaves your gun.” 

The hoodlum's two accomplices exchanged glances before the tall one
reluctantly threw his gun to the floor. 

“Better, at least. Now, I want some answers.” Betty leaped off the
thug's back, dragging him backward. Forcing the man down with her, 
Betty scooped the weapon off the floor, unloaded it, and gritted her 
teeth as she crushed the metal in one hand. She flung the mangled gun 
to the floor, her arm still wrapped around his neck. “Now, who sent you 
to ambush me?” 

“What makes you think we'll answer that?” The speaker attempted to sound
composed, but uncertainty and fear governed his expression at the 
extent of Betty's power. He shot a sideways glance at his partner, and 
after some hesitancy,  they ran at Betty from either side. Betty 
intensified her one-armed headlock for a second before dropping her 
victim to the floor and meeting the pair head-on. A punch to the taller 
guy's stomach felled him in a single blow, and Betty turned to the 


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