From his desk inside the office of The Daily Chronicle, reporter Dirk Peterson gazed at his screen. There had recently been reports of robberies committed by a scantily dressed woman. They had all been on convenience stores and other soft targets. No one had been hurt, but they were still crimes nonetheless. She had been nicknamed Domino, as she always left a domino tile as her calling card. So far the police had failed to catch her. Dirk knew that if she wasn't apprehended soon, she would continue committing petty crimes, and being a nuisance to society. His sources told him that she was operating from a disused warehouse in the red-light district, and he felt that the police needed help.
In his apartment that evening, Dirk's mind wandered as he thought about Domino. When darkness fell he removed his shirt and looked in the mirror at his chiselled face and muscular torso. He undressed before taking a chest from the wardrobe. From the chest he removed a bright red leotard and red tights, which he put on. The skin-tight lycra accentuated all of his muscular bulges. He then pulled on a pair of thick black trunks, leather knee-length boots and gauntlets. He clipped his bulky utility belt around his waist, and placed his stun gun in the holster. Finally, he pulled a black hood over his head. Falcon – the city's fearless crimefighter - was ready for action.
When Falcon arrived in the red-light district, he saw a small group of nightladies. Falcon and these prostitutes knew each other well, for he had been responsible for apprehending most of them and handing them to the police. As he emerged from an alley, one of the nightladies approached him in a threatening manner. Although, when she saw his red and black costume, she retreated sheepishly, for he was someone she feared.
Falcon reached the warehouse and found the door locked, which he felt was suspicious for a disused building. He took an electronic keypad from his utility belt, and placed it over the door lock. Lights on the keypad flashed rapidly, before a click told him the door was now unlocked. Once inside, Falcon found himself in a dimly lit corridor, leading to a room at the end. As he walked slowly along the corridor, he removed his stun gun, and held it firmly. When he reached the room, he saw that it contained a wooden table and a chair, with someone sitting with their back to him. As he entered, a floorboard creaked, causing his quarry to stand up quickly and face him. He saw that she was wearing a skimpy black dress, with a silver belt. Her arms were adorned with long black gloves, and she wore sheer black tights and black thigh-length boots. She had short blonde hair, with a black mask covering her eyes.
'Domino, I presume,' he said. Even though he couldn't fully see her face, he realised that she was an attractive young woman.
'Don't hurt me,' she said, with a tremor in her voice.
'I'm not going to hurt you. But the police will want to speak to you,' he said. 'Hold out your hands.'
She obeyed instantly and Falcon clamped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists. He noticed that her belt contained small pockets, similar to his utility belt. Her reached into one pocket and took out a domino tile.
'You won't need this anymore. I'll keep this as a souvenir of my conquest,' he said triumphantly, as he put the tile in his own utility belt.
'Please don't turn me in to the police,' she said, weakly.
'Tell it to the judge,' he retorted.
'Do you always wear that stupid costume and mask?' she said, in a more defiant tone.
'My mask protects my true identity. I've captured many villains over the years, and no one has ever seen my face.'
With Domino handcuffed and unable to resist, Falcon allowed his eyes to wander over her body. The heels of her boots concealed her true height, although she had shapely thighs and a slender waist. He also couldn't help notice her ample breasts beneath her dress. He desperately wanted to see her face, and knew there was no reason why he couldn't unmask her. After all, the police would do it when they arrested her.
