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Description
Continued from: [link]

Soviet Superwoman had been watching the meeting gathering in the alley behind her for almost an hour now. It was after 8:00 pm and only one half of the party had arrived thus far. She had been tipped off days ago by one of the lieutenants of the Fourth Reich she and Maia had questioned who informed them that a large "business transaction" was going to be taking place here tonight, of which she was originally supposed to be providing security. Olga had decided to watch in plainclothes until all the players had arrived before taking them down, a white tank top and a pair of jeans to be exact. She stood on the opposite street corner from the entranceway, pretending to talk on her cell-phone and speaking in what French she had picked up over the years. So far, to her knowledge, no-one had been the wiser. At first she was concerned her massive size would give her away, but it was Angel-Falls and larger than life women were not all that uncommon here. That and the gathering criminals seemed too focused on their impending meeting.

The two expensive black sedans that had arrived about fifteen minutes ago all belonged to the Giancarla crime family. They were originally routed in Sicily, having arrived in Angel Falls decades ago to form a power-base for the East Coast. Once a proud and powerful syndicate, the Giancarlas had suffered tremendously during the last couple of years both from the almost exponential appearance of super-powered villains to the city, competing over turf and resources, and the rapidly growing super-hero community to combat it. Giuseppe Giancarla was the current Capo di tutti capi of the Family and the old man was determined to go down swinging if need be. They still had a long reach in the cities drug trade, gambling and prostitution, as well as a hold in construction and the funeral business. If they were meeting with the Fourth Reich organization things must be desperate for the old man, who had made it a point to take out several "super-criminals" that tried to muscle his organization a year ago. The windows were tinted, and probably bulletproof as well, so Olga could only guess that about eight to ten members of the Family had shown up, probably incredibly well armed.

A few minutes later, a white van with the words "Joe's Rat & Rodent Exterminators" written in red on the side (complete with a belly up cartoon rat) pulled slowly across the street and down the alley. Olga continued her fake conversation, crossing to the other side of the street to get a better view as she gesticulated with her free hand and laughed. The exterminator van pulled past the two sedans and parked, effectively blocking up the alley on both sides. The doors opened on the cars and the back of the van almost simultaneously. The men that spilled out of the sedans all wore expensive looking suits and were for the most part, muscle. They carried sub-machine guns of a make and model that Olga was unfamiliar with. She frowned realizing that she was way behind in her ability to recognize and identify modern firearms, or cars for that matter.

From out of the van came the more familiar female soldiers of the Fourth Reich, about six of them in total. They seemed completely out of place meeting with the Mafioso, dressed in their latex and kevlar bodysuits complete with gas-masks and swastika symbols. Almost surreal. Most of the girls carried assault rifles, some sort of ArmaLite model if she guessed correctly. It didn't appear that any of the drivers had left any of the three vehicles present. The two groups fanned out and formed two separate semi-circles around their respective vehicles.

One of the men opened the back door of the car he had exited, on the passenger side, and out stepped a shorter, heavy set man in an unkempt grey suit. Olga had seen him in the papers as one of the Family's underbosses, a man named Salvatore Vincetti. Vincetti straightened his black tie and looked around cautiously. sweat rolling off his flabby face. In his hand he clutched a beautiful, tan leather briefcase. Flanked by two of his men he made his way over to the back of the van and waited. Olga however didn't have the luxury of waiting, She quickly made her way back across to the side of the street she had come from, putting away her phone in the process. Scooping up a duffel bag she had brought with her (which contained her Soviet Superwoman garb), she made her way down the rapidly darkening street a ways before flying up onto a nearby roof to change. Having super-speed at her advantage she still knew she would have to act fast, both before they scattered away like cockroaches at her arrival and before anything went sour and bullets started flying.

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Salvatore hated being here and he hated dealin' with these bitches. Fuckin' Nazis. Is that what the Family was reduced to dealin' with? He was a business man who loved Capitalism. Every once and awhile, someone had to get whacked or made an example of, but it was all part of the business they were in. There were rules and respect. These super-powered psychos made their own rules up and they didn't have any heritage or honor. They were dogs, killing each other over scraps. Goose-steppin' Nazi's worst of all, save maybe those demons that ransacked the city a few weeks back. Sal knew enough to be scared though. This Fourth Reich had a nasty reputation, and it was well-deserved. Their leader it's said is an old Nazi from the war, some huge monster of a woman who experimented on herself. Called herself Genocide. Sal swallowed hard and shook his head. If it was up to him, he'd have had all these cafones rounded up and beaten to death...but he wasn't the boss yet and the old man was still wily enough to have a plan he wagered.

The woman who came out of the darkness of the van would have been a ravishing, athletic blonde save for the gauze stretched across most of her face and head. Her cold blue eyes were uncovered however and she smiled upon seeing him, a normally cheerful expression that she somehow gave a sinister edge to. She was unarmed it seemed and dressed in a black leather trench-coat , with matching pants and jackboots. It looked to him that she didn't have a shirt on under her coat, given the ample supply of bosom she was revealing to the gathered assembly as she bent forward. Jessica Gottfried climbed out of the back, taking with her a large, steel case. She snapped the locks up on both sides and opened the case, displaying it's contents. Inside were clasped about twenty or so vials of a sickly-yellowish liquid.

"Your prescription has been filled. Do you have the insurance to cover it?" Jessica quipped, continuing to grin nastily at him.

Salvatore lifted up his case and dropped it back down, showcasing the weight. "What kinda guarantee can we get that that shit works like you claim it does?"

Jessica tilted her head as she answered. "You're more than welcome to take your business somewhere else...that is if the AFPD and their super-hero lap-dogs have left anyone else for you to buy from. Your boss contacted us, remember?"

"Yeah I remember..." Sal snarled back, barely concealing his contempt.

"So we have a deal then? Two million and your family gets back in the game, for however briefly that is remaining to be seen." Jess punctuated it with a giggle, further annoying the frustrated gangster. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded slowly and deliberately.

"Two million you Nazi bitch." He said as he flung the case into the back of the van next to where Gottfried was standing. "Feel free to count it if you don't trust us."

The cyborgs's eyes lit up. "Oh I fully intend to, if nothing else then to make you late for dinner, you fat fuck."

Red in the face, Sal got ready to open his mouth and lay this slut out when all hell broke loose in the alley. The Soviet Superwoman came down, smashing through the engine block of the sedan closest to the exit. Shrapnel and glass flew in all direction, disorienting the assembled criminals. The car shuddered in it's death throes, spitting fuel and smoke and in directions as the muscular Russian came up. Faster than they had time to blink, Olga clothes-lined the nearest soldier at super-speeds, throwing him horizontal in the air before he came down on the asphalt hard. A literal second later, machine gun fire erupted in all directions as the Mafia soldiers and Fourth Reich both opened up at the Soviet Superwoman in a blind panic. Jessica's mouth dropped open. She had no intention of fighting Olga right now, not after Doc Henderson had already so lovingly began to fix the damage she had done as well as upgrade her on-board weapon systems. Gottfried ripped open her trench-coat, revealing her large, perfect breasts to Vincetti. The rotund mobster, already confused and surprised by the appearance of such a powerful cape was equally confused, if not momentarily aroused, by the odd action of the bandaged Nazi.

The discs that tore out from under her ribs ripped through Vincetti like a bag of grain, spilling his insides all over the street. Gottfried, keeping her eyes on the advancing Russian, tossed both cases roughly into the van and jumped back up inside, slamming the rear doors behind her. Screaming at the driver to "GO!", the van threw itself in reverse, tires squealing as they burned out. The other sedan was attempting to do the same as Olga, peppered under a hail of ricocheting small-arms fire, shot a burst of laser vision at the front tires, blowing them both out spectacularly. The soldiers and Mafioso began to flee the scene like rats escaping a sinking ship as they realized they had no way of stopping this woman who was knocking them down and out in single blows. Olga batted another thug aside with the back of her hand, slamming him face-long into a brick wall as she moved up to rush the escaping van. There was no way she was going to let it get away from her, not with Genocide's possible location on the line. Flying forward, Soviet Superwoman was perfectly framed in the van's headlamps, fist forward to take it out. Jessica braced for impact.

It never came.

A black clad figure, feminine in appearance, had collided with her mid-air from her right side. As both women tumbled out of sight, the exterminator van shot out the back of the alley, throwing itself up and over the curb and barely avoiding an accident with an SUV as it launched itself forward, peeling off down the road at a breakneck speed.

To be continued...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The artwork this time was provided as a gift by the incredibly talented as well as generous, . Thank you so very much!

Soviet Superwoman and the mobsters here are my creations, as well as the writing itself.

Walkiria is mentioned and is the creation of

Jessica Gottfried belongs to

All of this takes place in

Description
Continued from: [link]

Soviet Superwoman had been watching the meeting gathering in the alley behind her for almost an hour now. It was after 8:00 pm and only one half of the party had arrived thus far. She had been tipped off days ago by one of the lieutenants of the Fourth Reich she and Maia had questioned who informed them that a large "business transaction" was going to be taking place here tonight, of which she was originally supposed to be providing security. Olga had decided to watch in plainclothes until all the players had arrived before taking them down, a white tank top and a pair of jeans to be exact. She stood on the opposite street corner from the entranceway, pretending to talk on her cell-phone and speaking in what French she had picked up over the years. So far, to her knowledge, no-one had been the wiser. At first she was concerned her massive size would give her away, but it was Angel-Falls and larger than life women were not all that uncommon here. That and the gathering criminals seemed too focused on their impending meeting.

The two expensive black sedans that had arrived about fifteen minutes ago all belonged to the Giancarla crime family. They were originally routed in Sicily, having arrived in Angel Falls decades ago to form a power-base for the East Coast. Once a proud and powerful syndicate, the Giancarlas had suffered tremendously during the last couple of years both from the almost exponential appearance of super-powered villains to the city, competing over turf and resources, and the rapidly growing super-hero community to combat it. Giuseppe Giancarla was the current Capo di tutti capi of the Family and the old man was determined to go down swinging if need be. They still had a long reach in the cities drug trade, gambling and prostitution, as well as a hold in construction and the funeral business. If they were meeting with the Fourth Reich organization things must be desperate for the old man, who had made it a point to take out several "super-criminals" that tried to muscle his organization a year ago. The windows were tinted, and probably bulletproof as well, so Olga could only guess that about eight to ten members of the Family had shown up, probably incredibly well armed.

A few minutes later, a white van with the words "Joe's Rat & Rodent Exterminators" written in red on the side (complete with a belly up cartoon rat) pulled slowly across the street and down the alley. Olga continued her fake conversation, crossing to the other side of the street to get a better view as she gesticulated with her free hand and laughed. The exterminator van pulled past the two sedans and parked, effectively blocking up the alley on both sides. The doors opened on the cars and the back of the van almost simultaneously. The men that spilled out of the sedans all wore expensive looking suits and were for the most part, muscle. They carried sub-machine guns of a make and model that Olga was unfamiliar with. She frowned realizing that she was way behind in her ability to recognize and identify modern firearms, or cars for that matter.

From out of the van came the more familiar female soldiers of the Fourth Reich, about six of them in total. They seemed completely out of place meeting with the Mafioso, dressed in their latex and kevlar bodysuits complete with gas-masks and swastika symbols. Almost surreal. Most of the girls carried assault rifles, some sort of ArmaLite model if she guessed correctly. It didn't appear that any of the drivers had left any of the three vehicles present. The two groups fanned out and formed two separate semi-circles around their respective vehicles.

One of the men opened the back door of the car he had exited, on the passenger side, and out stepped a shorter, heavy set man in an unkempt grey suit. Olga had seen him in the papers as one of the Family's underbosses, a man named Salvatore Vincetti. Vincetti straightened his black tie and looked around cautiously. sweat rolling off his flabby face. In his hand he clutched a beautiful, tan leather briefcase. Flanked by two of his men he made his way over to the back of the van and waited. Olga however didn't have the luxury of waiting, She quickly made her way back across to the side of the street she had come from, putting away her phone in the process. Scooping up a duffel bag she had brought with her (which contained her Soviet Superwoman garb), she made her way down the rapidly darkening street a ways before flying up onto a nearby roof to change. Having super-speed at her advantage she still knew she would have to act fast, both before they scattered away like cockroaches at her arrival and before anything went sour and bullets started flying.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Salvatore hated being here and he hated dealin' with these bitches. Fuckin' Nazis. Is that what the Family was reduced to dealin' with? He was a business man who loved Capitalism. Every once and awhile, someone had to get whacked or made an example of, but it was all part of the business they were in. There were rules and respect. These super-powered psychos made their own rules up and they didn't have any heritage or honor. They were dogs, killing each other over scraps. Goose-steppin' Nazi's worst of all, save maybe those demons that ransacked the city a few weeks back. Sal knew enough to be scared though. This Fourth Reich had a nasty reputation, and it was well-deserved. Their leader it's said is an old Nazi from the war, some huge monster of a woman who experimented on herself. Called herself Genocide. Sal swallowed hard and shook his head. If it was up to him, he'd have had all these cafones rounded up and beaten to death...but he wasn't the boss yet and the old man was still wily enough to have a plan he wagered.

The woman who came out of the darkness of the van would have been a ravishing, athletic blonde save for the gauze stretched across most of her face and head. Her cold blue eyes were uncovered however and she smiled upon seeing him, a normally cheerful expression that she somehow gave a sinister edge to. She was unarmed it seemed and dressed in a black leather trench-coat , with matching pants and jackboots. It looked to him that she didn't have a shirt on under her coat, given the ample supply of bosom she was revealing to the gathered assembly as she bent forward. Jessica Gottfried climbed out of the back, taking with her a large, steel case. She snapped the locks up on both sides and opened the case, displaying it's contents. Inside were clasped about twenty or so vials of a sickly-yellowish liquid.

"Your prescription has been filled. Do you have the insurance to cover it?" Jessica quipped, continuing to grin nastily at him.

Salvatore lifted up his case and dropped it back down, showcasing the weight. "What kinda guarantee can we get that that shit works like you claim it does?"

Jessica tilted her head as she answered. "You're more than welcome to take your business somewhere else...that is if the AFPD and their super-hero lap-dogs have left anyone else for you to buy from. Your boss contacted us, remember?"

"Yeah I remember..." Sal snarled back, barely concealing his contempt.

"So we have a deal then? Two million and your family gets back in the game, for however briefly that is remaining to be seen." Jess punctuated it with a giggle, further annoying the frustrated gangster. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded slowly and deliberately.

"Two million you Nazi bitch." He said as he flung the case into the back of the van next to where Gottfried was standing. "Feel free to count it if you don't trust us."

The cyborgs's eyes lit up. "Oh I fully intend to, if nothing else then to make you late for dinner, you fat fuck."

Red in the face, Sal got ready to open his mouth and lay this slut out when all hell broke loose in the alley. The Soviet Superwoman came down, smashing through the engine block of the sedan closest to the exit. Shrapnel and glass flew in all direction, disorienting the assembled criminals. The car shuddered in it's death throes, spitting fuel and smoke and in directions as the muscular Russian came up. Faster than they had time to blink, Olga clothes-lined the nearest soldier at super-speeds, throwing him horizontal in the air before he came down on the asphalt hard. A literal second later, machine gun fire erupted in all directions as the Mafia soldiers and Fourth Reich both opened up at the Soviet Superwoman in a blind panic. Jessica's mouth dropped open. She had no intention of fighting Olga right now, not after Doc Henderson had already so lovingly began to fix the damage she had done as well as upgrade her on-board weapon systems. Gottfried ripped open her trench-coat, revealing her large, perfect breasts to Vincetti. The rotund mobster, already confused and surprised by the appearance of such a powerful cape was equally confused, if not momentarily aroused, by the odd action of the bandaged Nazi.

The discs that tore out from under her ribs ripped through Vincetti like a bag of grain, spilling his insides all over the street. Gottfried, keeping her eyes on the advancing Russian, tossed both cases roughly into the van and jumped back up inside, slamming the rear doors behind her. Screaming at the driver to "GO!", the van threw itself in reverse, tires squealing as they burned out. The other sedan was attempting to do the same as Olga, peppered under a hail of ricocheting small-arms fire, shot a burst of laser vision at the front tires, blowing them both out spectacularly. The soldiers and Mafioso began to flee the scene like rats escaping a sinking ship as they realized they had no way of stopping this woman who was knocking them down and out in single blows. Olga batted another thug aside with the back of her hand, slamming him face-long into a brick wall as she moved up to rush the escaping van. There was no way she was going to let it get away from her, not with Genocide's possible location on the line. Flying forward, Soviet Superwoman was perfectly framed in the van's headlamps, fist forward to take it out. Jessica braced for impact.

It never came.

A black clad figure, feminine in appearance, had collided with her mid-air from her right side. As both women tumbled out of sight, the exterminator van shot out the back of the alley, throwing itself up and over the curb and barely avoiding an accident with an SUV as it launched itself forward, peeling off down the road at a breakneck speed.

To be continued...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The artwork this time was provided as a gift by the incredibly talented as well as generous, . Thank you so very much!

Soviet Superwoman and the mobsters here are my creations, as well as the writing itself.

Walkiria is mentioned and is the creation of

Jessica Gottfried belongs to

All of this takes place in