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A Common Weakness – Chapter 4

Written by Dumano1r :: [Wednesday, 26 February 2020 12:48] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 29 February 2020 14:17]

A Common Weakness – chapter 4

Gianni was lounging by the pool, martini in hand. The sun was shining brightly, and there were several scantily clad hotties to keep his glass full. Marco was on the lounger next to him, smoking a cigar and lazily blowing smoke rings. “You done good, kid,” he kept muttering.

Gianni had been delighted and relieved by the death of Ultraman. It hadn’t come cheap, and for a few days he had been worried that he was being ripped off with money that wasn’t strictly his. Marco was a made man, who didn’t take failure well, especially if it involved his money. But Ultraman was gone now, and Gianni had been spectacularly invited into Marco’s inner circle, much to the frustration of many of his rivals in the organisation. Gianni smiled and leant back on his lounger, head resting on his hands. Life was good.

His pleasant daydream was suddenly interrupted by a solid crash; gunshots; a scream cut short.

All around the pool there was suddenly chaos. The scantily clad hotties were screaming and running. Marco’s men were suddenly everywhere, big men in dark suits with an array of weaponry. Gianni scrambled to reach his gun, a 9mm luger pistol that he had left in his jacket pocket, knocking over his martini glass that shattered on the poolside tiles.

Only Marco didn’t move. He stayed on his lounger, cigar clamped in his teeth, casually blowing smoke rings as though nothing was happening.

The door from the mansion seemed to explode. One second it was there, the next it was a cloud of dust and debris. All around the pool the men raised their guns.

Standing in the doorway was a stunning figure, a spectacularly curvaceous blonde in a skintight purple bodysuit. One hand rested lightly on her fabulous hip, the other was still raised in the fist that had shattered the solid wooden door. As one the gangsters opened fire.

Casssandra didn’t move. Bullets pattered harmlessly off her flawless skin as she descended the steps from the mansion towards the pool. A suited man rushed her and without even looking at him she delivered an uppercut that smashed what remained of his corpse clear across the compound.

By this time Gianni had managed to free his gun from the folds of his jacket and was fumbling furiously with the safety catch.

Marco sat up from his lounger and took a sip of his single malt.

The remaining men were backing away, no longer expending their ammunition on a seemingly invulnerable target. Cassandra was walking confidently around the edge of the pool, hips swaying seductively, her huge breasts swaying hypnotically. Gianni raised his gun and fired, watching helplessly as the bullets pinged off her flawless abdomen. By the time she was standing before him his gun was empty, though he was still squeezing the trigger to a hollow clicking noise.

Cassandra stood towering over his prone form, a flawless goddess cast silhouette by the afternoon sun.

“Cassandra, it’s nice to see you. Pull up a lounger,” Marco said carelessly. He raised his glass in a convivial greeting.

“I may as well,” she said, gesturing with her hand for Gianni to move. He rolled off his lounger, frantically twisting to his feet as she laid herself comfortably down, resting one elbow on the lounger with a delicate hand supporting her head. “You know why I’m here, Marco?” she asked.

Marco drew on his cigar. “Please, we’re all friends here. I know you like to relax in your own way. Make yourself comfortable. Gianni, get the lady a drink. Rum, with coke and ice. That right, miss?”

“You know me too well, Marco,” she said, as she lay back on the lounger. To Gianni’s astonishment she slipped her hands under the shoulder straps of her bodysuit and casually pulled it down over her chest. Her huge breasts barely moved as she freed them from the confines of her clothing, revealing her fabulous nipples and toned stomach.

Gianni nervously backed away, eyes locked on her naked flesh, before finally turning to walk over to the poolside bar. The barmaid had fled, so Gianni poured out a strong rum before adding coke and some ice. The glass felt cool in his sweaty hand as he walked back to Marco and Cassandra, who were lounging side by side, a sweaty middle aged man in tight speedos, and a fantastically nubile semi-naked blonde, both apparently totally comfortable in their situation. Gianni held the glass out to Cassandra, who took it in her delicate fingers.

“So Cassandra here was telling me she thinks there’s some kinda human hitman going out whacking superheroes for money. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Gianni?” Marco was sitting up now, his hairy belly overhanging his tight black speedos. As often around authority figures his speech was exaggerated to emphasise his underworld connections.

“Not a thing, boss,” Gianni said nervously. Cassandra stared up at him, a confident smirk across her face.

“That’s good,” said Marco, taking a deep draw on his cigar and lazily blowing smoke out. Cassandra tipped her drink back, the same smirk on her face. She placed the empty glass into her magnificent cleavage, then with a slight shrug of her shoulders and a flex of her pectoral muscles, she crushed it, before wiping away the jagged fragments with a perfectly manicured hand. Marco chuckled. “That your party trick?”

“It’s always well received,” she said, winking at Gianni, who trying not to stare at her huge and invulnerable, naked chest.

“Anyway, Cassandra here told me about a large amount of money transferred from one of my business accounts to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands a week ago. Seems from there the money disappears through a slew of different accounts, ends up untraceable. Nicely done, very professional. Except Cassandra here could see which putz made the payment.”

Gianni was sweating heavily now. Cassandra swung her long, slender legs across the lounger and in a smooth movement stood up to face him. She was so close to him that her nipples, pert and erect, were nearly brushing against his torso. It would have been an incredibly erotic moment if he wasn’t so terrified. Cassandra placed her left hand on his shoulder and without effort forced him to his knees.

“Now Cassandra here and I have cut a deal. She’s happy I knew nothing about this deal, that I – what’s the word here – ‘delegate’ lots of my business dealings. So, what we’re going to do is nice and civilized, because otherwise she’s gonna kill us all. That about right, darling?”

“That’s pretty much spot on, Marco,” said Cassandra with a slight chuckle.

“Good, so you’re going to tell her everything you know about this hitman. Everything. And if she believes you she won’t kill you.” Marco again took a leisurely drag on his cigar. “Like she killed big Tony over there.” He gestured dismissively at the shattered corpse lying at the edge of the compound.

“I would take a lot longer on you, though.” She said playfully.

And so, prone on his knees, in tears before his boss and the goddess, Gianni spilled out all he knew. He told her about a dark web page, the elaborate system to arrange a meeting place, the bar where he had met the hitman, the green eyes that watched him in the smoke filled room. Everything. Cassandra listened carefully, whilst Marco lay back and casually sipped his single malt. Finally Gianni was finished.

“That all you need, Cassandra?” asked Marco.

“For now, at least.” She shoved Gianni playfully, sending him sprawling across the poolside tiles. Without an apparent care in the world she pulled her bodysuit back up over her gigantic orbs. “It’s been a pleasure, Marco.”


With that she sauntered back around the pool and back through the mansion, leaving a scene of destruction behind her with utter nonchalance.

Gianni staggered wearily to his feet. Marco was sitting up again, his hands empty, the cigar lying in an ash tray, the single malt at his feet. “I’m sorry, boss.”

“Give me your gun, Gianni.”

“Boss, please!” he begged.

“Your gun.”

With trembling hands he held out his gun to Marco, who casually took it and dropped the clip, which bounced across the tiles. He held out a hand and without a word was handed a replacement. He slotted it into the gun with an ominous click.

Gianni was trembling helplessly.

“Your heart’s in the right place, kid, but I can’t abide fuck-ups.” He raised the gun so that it was pointing at Gianni’s face.

“Boss, please!” Gianni begged again.

Marco shrugged his shoulders, then suddenly lowered the gun and fired it into Gianni’s left thigh. Gianni collapsed onto the tiles in a screaming sobbing mess. “Get the kid to the doctor. I think he’s learnt his lesson.”


It hadn’t taken long for Alice to confess. She had always made the special bullets for Claire to use in her work, but on this occasion she’d blended in red Kryptonite, along with a gossamer thread of fibre optic cable. When the bullet had left the gun it had been trailed by the rapidly disintegrating fibre optic strand, a tiny and fragile trail, but just enough to direct the Kryptonian powers torn asunder by the Kryptonite mixture back towards the person wielding the gun.

“How the fuck could you do this?” Claire shouted. “How could you set that up without telling me? I know that you think superwomen are hot, but seriously?”

Alice was in tears. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why?” Claire demanded.

“Because I love you,” said Alice, “And I don’t want to lose you.”

“You have a pretty funny way of showing love, if you don’t trust someone enough to tell them when you change their whole fucking DNA!”

“I knew you’d say no,” Alice sobbed. “But I had to save you!”

“Save me how? I kill superhumans. That’s what I do! How could you think it’s a good idea that I become one?” Claire realised she was crying too, though her tears were a mix of rage and frustration.

“Because If I hadn’t done it, Cassandra would kill you!” Alice threw back.

And that made Claire pause. For a moment she stood facing her lover, her mouth opening and closing silently. When she spoke, in her own head all she could hear was a cold and calm voice uttering a single, incomprehensibly powerful word. “What?”

Alice was gushing now. “You do your research, I do mine. Ultraman was nothing special, I knew you could kill him, he shares the weakness with all the rest. And so does Cassandra, but there was something different about the two of them. I looked into it. They weren’t just fucking. She loved him. She loved him the way that I love you. And when I realised that, I knew, I just knew, that she would do whatever it took to hunt you down.”

Claire’s shoulders dropped. Her indignation and rage were failing, though a raw knot of anger was still eating at her. “I can take care of Cassandra. She’s no different to the others.”

“No, you can’t.” Alice was speaking more slowly now, concentrating on her words. “You’re used to being the hunter, not the hunted. And Cassandra will hunt for you.”

Claire sat down on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” her voice was more pleading than she had expected.

“Because I knew you’d say no.”

Claire shook her head in her hands. She closed her eyes, feeling the strands of her hair and the warm tears on her palms. She felt a cautious touch, gently on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, then stood. “I need to get some air.”

Claire strode outside and stood on the porch, hands on her hips, just breathing for a moment. She could feel fresh tears coming and she blinked them back. Her bra felt tight, and looking down she suddenly realised that her breasts had gotten bigger. She suddenly felt dizzy, and had to lean against the porch rail. She gripped it tightly in her hands and felt the wood splinter. Physically, she felt better than she ever had, but emotionally…

Her head was spinning. She had no idea what to do next, how to do it or even why.

And then her phone rang.

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