From a darkened doorway, the one-eyed man stared at the neon-lit diner across the street. His permanent squint caused as a result of losing an eye in a bar fight many years ago. He pulled up the collar of his shabby raincoat, crossed the street and entered the diner, where a muscular man in a grey suit was sipping on a latte. As the one-eyed man approached him, the other man looked up.
'Hello Cyclops,' said Dirk Peterson. 'Can I get you brunch?' Cyclops sat down as Dirk signalled to a waitress. 'What have you got for me?'
'I'm afraid I haven't found out yet, Mr Peterson,' Cyclops replied. 'I've spoken to over half the tattoo artists in the city, and none of them have done any tattoos you described on any women's ankles.' Dirk was unable to conceal his disappointment. He knew Cyclops was the best informant The Daily Chronicle had, but so far he had been unable to trace the tattoo artist responsible for Domino's ankle tattoos. Dirk passed a brown envelope full of cash across the table.
'OK Cyclops. Keep looking for me.'
Back at his desk at the The Daily Chronicle, Dirk was soon joined by his fellow reporters Neal and Amy. Amy was excited about a story she was about to write. 'Falcon caught a gang of robbers attempting to break into a jewellers shop last night,' she said excitedly.
'I think you're in love with him,' Neal joked.
'I never could resist a man in a sexy skin-tight costume,' Amy replied. 'He can capture me any time.'
Neal laughed. 'What about this costume?' as he held up a green mask. 'I'm reporting on the Superhero Appreciation Society Convention at The Palace Hotel tomorrow. I'm going as The Green Lantern.'
'It should be fun,' said Amy. 'A lot of people like to dress up and do cosplay. Do you agree Dirk?'
'It's all harmless fun,' he replied, trying to sound disinterested.
The following day as Dirk sat alone in his apartment, he anticipated his appointment with Domino that evening. She had unmasked and stripped him on their first encounter and was using a video recording of this to blackmail him. He knew that she wouldn't release the recording if he obeyed her, and she was taking advantage of his situation to humiliate him. His only chance to stop her was to find her true identity and to raid her private apartment. So far the only lead he had was her unique ankle tattoos, but Cyclops hadn't yet found the tattoo artist.
That evening Dirk took his one remaining Falcon costume from a secret box. He undressed and pulled on his bright red leotard and tights. He smiled to himself as he recalled Amy's words about skin-tight costumes. He then put on his black leather trunks, boots, gauntlets and hood, before clasping on his utility belt and stungun.
When he arrived at the red-light district, he found it to be unusually quiet for a Saturday night, with only a couple of nightladies hanging around. He reached Domino's lair and was about to enter when the door opened and Domino stepped outside. Falcon noticed she wasn't in her usual dress, but was clad in a red leather catsuit, although still wearing her black gloves, boots and mask. She also carried a small black handbag over her shoulder, which struck Falcon as bizarre.
'Hello Dirk,' she said. 'I thought I would dress up tonight, as we're going out.' She led him around the corner where a taxi was waiting for them. They climbed in the back seat, and the driver looked at them in his rear-view mirror.
'Dressed like that, I can guess where you're going,' he laughed.
'Just drive,' Domino ordered him. 'Or I'll make you suffer.' When they arrived at The Palace Hotel, Falcon and Domino entered and followed a sign to The Lansdown Wing, where they found two burly security guards outside the door.
'Names please,' said one of the guards.
'I'm Di Moon,' said Domino, 'and this is Dirk Peterson.' The security guard checked his clipboard.
'That's fine, Miss Moon. Enjoy your evening.'
They entered a large ballroom, and Falcon noticed Neal in his Green Lantern costume, standing with one of the Chronicle's photographers, dressed as The Joker. As Falcon and Domino walked passed them, Neal paid them no attention. They continued until they reached a smaller ballroom, passing other costume-clad guests who also ignored them. Falcon realised that everyone else had no idea who he and Domino really were, assuming they were merely fans in costumes. When they reached the bar, the bartender handed them each a drink.
'This is your reward for obeying me,' said Domino. 'I thought you'd like a night out.' A man in a homemade black and yellow costume approached them.
'I like your matching costumes,' he said, before turning to face Falcon. 'I recognise you. You're supposed to be Falcon, but who's your friend?'
'I'm Falconess,' replied Domino. 'His new crime-fighting partner.' The man looked impressed, before leaving.
'Falconess?' said Falcon. 'My crime-fighting partner?'
'Relax Dirk, and just enjoy yourself, but remember what I'm about to tell you,' Domino said. 'That recording at my apartment is timed to be released on the Internet at 3.00 am tomorrow morning, unless I get back in time to stop it. I've booked a taxi to collect us at 2.10. It won't leave unless we're both in it, and it won't wait for too long. If we should get split up, you must meet me by the ice sculpture over there. The convention ends at 2.00, so it shouldn't be a problem. Remember, whatever happens, you must meet me by 2.10, or else the recording will be released.'
Falcon placed his hand to his chest and gasped. 'Are you alright?' Domino asked, with a clear hint of concern in her voice.
'I need my medication,' he panted, and pointed to a pocket in his utility belt. 'It's in there.' Domino fumbled with the pocket but was unable to release it. 'Hurry please!' he gasped. Domino removed her gloves to enable her to release the clip, and took out a small plastic bottle of tablets. She quickly opened it and gave a tablet to Falcon who swallowed it. After a few minutes Falcon regained his composure. 'Thank you. I guess even crimefighters can become ill,' he joked.