(The Twins, Jimmie Morretti, and Mandy Stone are original characters created by me.)
(I have no such claim on Batman, Alfred or any of the other beloved characters in the Batman Universe, they are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. Studios)
I hope you like it.
It is a little past midnight. The storm has been raging for hours now. There seems no end to the constant barrage of thunder and lightning filling the dark sky. No one in their right mind would be caught outside in this weather. But this city has more than its fair share of people who are not in their right mind and that is why he braves the wind and rain and continues his nightly duties. Perched atop a stone gargoyle hanging off the side of a building, Batman's cape snaps about in accordance with the wind. As unmoving as the gargoyle under him, Batman's eyes survey the city below. Gotham's streets are bare, it seems he is alone in this great city tonight.
He decides to call it a night when blocks away he sees a lone car going down an alley. It comes out of the alley and speeds down the street in the opposite direction. Something strikes him odd about the car, standing up he reaches into his cape and takes out his grappling hook. Extending his arm, he aims for the rooftop across the street and shoots. Before the hook even reaches the other side and secures itself, he propels himself off the building, timing it just right so as he is in is downward decent the hook catches and he swings across.
Keeping his focus on his objective he goes from rooftop to rooftop trailing the speeding car.
The car finally enters the warehouse district and stops in front of an abandoned warehouse. Still some blocks away Batman stops his pursuit and pulls out his night vision binoculars and watches as a dark figure gets out of the car and enters the warehouse.
Batman emerges from the shadows of the alley across the street from where the dark figure entered and immediately notices something that could not possibly be. He crosses the street and walks up to a hunk of metal that at one time could have passed for a car. Rusted and missing large pieces from its body the car looks like it has sat in a junkyard for the last decade. Batman knows that in Gotham nothing is what it seems, he places his gloved hand on the hood, its cold. Could this be the same car that just pulled up here?
His curiosity is now at an all time high and he decides to enter the warehouse when he notices that the handles are chained and locked. A quick inspection of the lock and chain tells him that it has been that way for some time. Batman grabs the pen shaped laser cutter from his belt and goes to work on the chain.
The doors creaks open; Batman's imposing silhouette glides inside, his cape wrapped around his body. His keen senses reach out in an attempt to detect any movement. Rain slowly drips down from the holes in the roof. Looking out the tall windows at the other end of the warehouse he sees that the stars have made their first appearance of the night as the storm is finally passing. Out over the ocean tiny flashes of lightning dance across the sky.
A noise grabs his attention, he moves from around the empty shelves peering down a hallway to an office in the back. A light in the office is on. Just as he is about to move toward the office a rat scurries out of the way and screeches in fear, the light quickly goes out, Batman rushes down the hall and throws open the door. The office is empty. He walks over to the desk lamp and turns the switch, it does not turn on. He inspects the lamp and finds there is no bulb inside of it. A car's engine kicking over and tires squealing fill the night air. By the time Batman is back outside, the car and any sign of it are gone.
Batman returns to the office, the glow from the full moon spills in from the window behind the desk. From his belt he removes his spectral analyzer and places it to his eye searching the desk and lamp. No fresh fingerprints can be found. The desk's drawers only divulge cobwebs and dust balls. With the aid of his flashlight he notices that the dust on the shelf of a bookcase seems to have been manipulated recently, as if someone wiped the dust away. Probing the area he runs his hand underneath the shelf and finds a switch. Pushing it in causes the framed artwork on the opposite wall to slide down revealing an old safe embedded in the wall.
Alfred Pennyworth walks down the long narrow staircase leading down into the Bat cave, carrying proudly in his hands a superbly polished silver-serving tray. On the tray sit a steaming cup of coffee and a delectable pastry. Just as his foot leaves the last step and hits the floor of the cave the low rumble of the Batmobile's engine fills the air combining with the flapping of fleshy wings and the screams of the bats that also call this cave home. The Batmobile zooms into view stopping abruptly, the driving compartment hatch slides open and Batman jumps out.
"Perfect timing sir, if I do say so myself."
"Good morning Alfred, you're up early."
"Last night was a most dreadful night and I thought a nice cup of hot coffee would do wonders to warm those chilled bones of yours Master Bruce."
"What would I do without you Alfred?"
He decides not to remind Alfred that the unique design of the suit keeps him free from dealing with the harsher elements of the weather. Besides even if Alfred knew that little fact, which he probably does, he would still be there waiting after a cold night with a warm refreshment in hand.
Batman lifts the cowl above his head grabs the cup and takes a well-received sip.
"Alfred, do you believe in ghosts?"
"Ghosts, Master Bruce?"
After a short pause, "Nothing, never mind. You must be exhausted, why don't you go back up to bed and catch up on sleep."
"Sleep? Nonsense sir, this manor does not take care of itself you know. Just leave the dishes I will be by to pick them up later."
He watches Alfred ascend the long staircase up to the manor.
"Alfred."
Alfred stops and turns around.
"Yes Master Bruce?"
Batman lifts the cup into the air.
"Thank you."
"Of course, Master Bruce."
With a nod of his head and a warm smile Alfred disappears up the stairs.
Out of the suit and in an expensive perfectly tailored bathrobe, Batman sits at one of the many workstations in the Bat cave peering into a microscope. Alfred comes down the stairs.
"You know how I hate to interrupt you, sir."
"Yes, what is it, Alfred?" responds Bruce as he continues to gaze into the scope.
"The annual stockholders brunch at the Emerald Hills Country Club will be starting in two hours." "You are giving the closing speech."
Undeterred by this oversight his attention remains on his work.
"Master Bruce?"
He finally looks up.
"Alfred, a very peculiar thing happened last night. I can't get my head around it and the only clue I have to go on is this small piece of half burnt paper that I found in a hidden safe at an abandoned warehouse." He takes the slide out from the microscope and hands it to Alfred.
Alfred looks it over quickly, "Looks like an ordinary piece of paper, sir." He is about to hand it back when he notices something, "Wait, this insignia here, it seems familiar."
"Yes, that is the logo of the company that occupied the building at one time, a company called Simpson Securities, they manufactured high end locks, safes, and vaults for banks, the government and even private use. They had a lucrative business for some time but went out of business close to thirty years ago. The warehouse where I found that piece of paper has changed owner hands a couple times after that, but now has been abandoned for some time."
After a long pause and mostly to himself he carries on, "I can't escape the feeling that it was leading me to something else. It went to too much trouble to get my attention." He walks away towards the staircase with face down his chin held in his hand.
"It, Master Bruce? I'm afraid you lost me sir, do you mean to say someone other than yourself was out in that dreadful weather last night", he asks curiously. "Another escapee from Arkahm……….. the Joker perhaps?"
Already halfway up the stairs, he answers without turning around. "No, I checked Arkahm, all guests present and accounted for." After a short pause he finally comes to the only conclusion left. "No Alfred, I was all alone last night."
Before Alfred can respond Master Bruce is out of sight, he looks back at the slide still in his hand
"Peculiar indeed."
Later that day at the Emerald Hills Country Club, Bruce Wayne basks in the after glow of his speech in the large hall where the stockholders brunch is taking place. Standing right below the podium where he just spoke the attendees shake hands and congratulate him as they make their way to the large table at the center of the room where the buffet brunch is being served. Two chefs at either end of a large table take orders as others acquire their meal from the fresh fruit and already prepared food slowly cooking on open flames throughout the table. The hall is beautifully decorated with fresh exotic flowers and at the center of the large table is an ice sculpture-depicting twin rearing horses.
At the entrance of the hall a tall long-legged, astonishingly beautiful woman enters.
The porter, who takes a second to catch his breath upon looking at her perfectly formed face, stops her and says in a stuffy voice, "Excuse me Miss, this is a private event."
Many of the people nearby as is seldom the case when one with such rare beauty enters a room, look up from their plates and conversations to take notice. The majority of onlookers immediately recognize her while quickly informing the ones who can't quite place her on who she is. A handsome ambitious man, who was serving himself a plate of food and now has stopped to watch the unfolding scene at the door, puts down his plate and rushes over.
After several attempts to enter the hall, the porter, despite the ladies' beauty, has had quite enough of this young woman and her persistence at trying to crash the brunch. As he is about to pick up the phone and call security the handsome man unabashedly inserts himself into the situation.
"Uh, excuse me, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding but she's with me," he says through one of his best put on smiles.
Not one to miss an opportunity the beautiful woman responds to the handsome man as if she has known him for years.
She moves smoothly toward the man and puts her arm in his, looks back and says to the porter. "Satisfied?"
The porter sheepishly replies, "Of course Miss, I was only doing my job. I would like to say though that I am a big fan and - -"
She waves him off, "Yeah, yeah who isn't?"
They begin to walk off arm in arm when over her shoulder she tells the porter nonchalantly, "They're with me."
Her entourage, a group of six people follow behind her making an even bigger scene. The porter helplessly watches as they all walk inside.
More than happy with himself the handsome man walks by a few tables enjoying the looks he is receiving by having such a famous and beautiful woman on his arm. A circumstance that unfortunately for him is about to change.
As they make their way further into the hall he notices even though her arm is entwined with his, her attention is clearly not with him. Without regard for his help or even of his presence she takes back her arm and walks away excitedly whispering to one of her entourage, a short red haired woman. The handsome man begins to follow after her with his arm outstretched reaching for her. He abruptly stops when twin large black men, wearing expensive suits and dark shades block his path. Their arms are crossed over their chests and their stern granite expressions look down at him. Quickly getting the idea, he straightens his tie, smoothes out his jacket with both hands and then embarrassedly walks away.
Bruce Wayne continues to graciously shake well wisher's hands as he engages in conversation with one of the stockholders. As his full concentration is upon the person in front of him, his well-honed senses enable him to discern the change in the atmosphere, particularly by the front entrance. With his peripheral vision he views a tall beautiful woman walking at a swift pace pointing and heading in his direction with a shorter red haired woman in tow.
"I must say Mr. Wayne you really outdid last years meeting. Have you tried the lobster omelet?"
Bruce quickly interjects, "You know what? I think I just might do that. If you'll excuse me." Bruce shakes the man's hand but does not get far when a lady with poofy hair intercepts him and proceeds to tell him how delightfully decorated the hall is.
The poofy haired lady begins to change the conversation as Bruce politely listens to an explanation on which direction Wayne Industries should be heading. Bruce feels a tap on his shoulder, upon turning around he finds Lucius Fox looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Sorry to interrupt Bruce, there is someone here that is very interested in meeting you." Stepping right in front of the poofy haired lady and blocking her view of Bruce, the red haired woman from the entourage takes over the introduction.
"May we take a moment of your time?" She asks rhetorically, and then continues on. "By the way fabulous shindig you have going on here, the food smells delicious.
Suspecting that this might take awhile and sensing the awkwardness of Lucius and the poofy haired woman, Bruce places his hand up stopping the red haired woman's next breath before it can form into a word.
"Lucius, this charming lady here has some great suggestions. Would you mind"?
Taking the cue Lucius valiantly leads the poofy haired lady away to discuss her suggestions.
"Suggestions? I got one. How 'bout a haircut from this decade?" snorts the red haired woman snickering at her own joke.
Not impressed Bruce stares, waiting for her to continue.
"You know what, I think I can take it from here," says the tall beautiful woman.
The red haired lady steps back and joins the rest of the entourage. Bruce looks over at them and immediately notices her twin bodyguards. Simultaneously they take off their shades revealing piercing blue eyes, which show more prominently in contrast to the dark hue of their skin. A smile creeps onto both of their lips, smiles clearly not intended for polite reasons. Standing between them is a petite brunette of Eastern decent. She causes Bruce to pause and observe her for a moment. He notices how her eyes dart around the room ever so slightly in a calm yet patterned manner, how she distributes her weight perfectly between her legs, not standing back on her heels but up on her toes. She pays him no mind as if Bruce doesn't exist. Bruce wonders to himself who the true bodyguard really is.
"I am in town for a few weeks and I could not pass up the opportunity to meet Gotham's favorite son," the tall striking woman says.
Her voice turns Bruce's gaze away from her entourage back to her. Bruce has noticed the attention and open mouthed stares that she has been receiving from the crowd and knows better than to ask her who she is.
He quickly adds, "It's very nice to meet you."
She cocks her head slightly to the side curiously, not understanding his luke warm reception. Either Bruce Wayne likes to stay cool in all situations, she thinks to herself, or he has no idea who I am. If her publicist assumes the same it will anger her to no end and cause her face to match the red color of her hair, but for her, this strangely takes her interest in Bruce Wayne to a whole other level. She smiles and bites down on the corner of her lip trying hard to sustain her excitement, all the while staring dreamily into his eyes. For the first time in a long time she is speechless and does not know what to say next.
"Uh, so what brings you to Gotham? Bruce quickly puts in, sensing her tongue-tied state.
As predicted the publicist's cheeks are a rosy tinge and she has had about enough. She reaches into her bag and steps forward once again. "Mandy Stone", she says with the most extreme pronunciation and just the right amount of volume she can manage before it is considered a yell, "is in town for her well publicized Broadway musical 'Fame Children'which is playing for two weekends only, two weekends more than I would have allowed if it was up to me". She shoots Mandy a quick stern look and continues on, "As she has already mentioned, she could not pass up the opportunity to meet your acquaintance and for reasons beyond me has a strong desire for you to come and be her special guest at tomorrow evenings opening night." She hands out a ticket towards Bruce, which he accepts. "So consider yourself officially invited", she turns back to Mandy her attitude simmering down quite a bit, "Can we go now? This place is starting to stink."
Mandy rolls her eyes at her publicist then smiles brightly at Bruce. She moves in closer to him and lightly kisses him on the cheek then whispers in his ear, "Hope you can come."
She turns around whipping her long blonde hair about glowering at her publicist who steps in line with the rest of the entourage and follows her out. At about midway down the long table of food a fan steps up to try and get Mandy's autograph. One of the twin's places his large hand out stopping the fan cold. Mandy motions for the bodyguard to let the fan come through, she takes the pad and pen and hurriedly scribbles onto the paper. Mandy and the group take off again, leaving the fan without his favorite pen. She passes a plate of fresh cut melons and realizes she forgot to give the pen back. Without stopping she sticks the pen into one of the larger pieces of melon. Looking over at the handsome man's table, the one who helped her in, she playfully waves over then blows him a kiss and walks out of the hall leaving the stunned people a story that none of their friends will ever believe, a story that one handsome man in the hall hopes never to have to relive again.
Alfred Pennyworth stands straight and proud donned in his driver's outfit waiting by Master Bruce's 1939 Bentley. He opens the door for Bruce who sits down with a look of great contemplation on his face. Alfred gets behind the wheel and drives off.
"Will you be needing to head into town, sir? Alfred asks looking back at him through the rear-view mirror.
"No not today Alfred. I need to get back to the cave and do some work," he replies in a somber tone as he rests his elbow on the window frame and gently rubs his chin between his hands. He quietly looks out at the countryside in deep thought.
"More work to do on the significance of that elusive piece of paper you found last night I take it? Alfred asks.
Bruce comes alive at the mention of the paper.
"You know Alfred, It is all I have been able to think about today," Bruce states.
"I would think an enormously famous and quite attractive actress going out of her way to meet you would put a dent in that line of thinking. Possibly giving you something else to mull over in that ever working head of yours," he says in a matter of fact manner. Bruce brings himself to take his gaze away from the fast approaching skyline of his beloved Gotham and looks at the back of Alfred's head with great curiosity.
"How pray tell is it that you would know such a thing?" Bruce asks in between a smile.
"I just so happened to have a delightful conversation with the driver of Miss Stone's limousine," he replies.
Shocked, Bruce asks to no one in particular, "Am I the only person in Gotham that does not know who she is?"
"In your defense sir, you are a very busy individual who has virtually no time for entertainment," chimes in Alfred playfully.
"You've never driven the batmobile at top speed," Bruce retorts sitting back against the well-upholstered seats with an endearing grin.
Alfred so enjoys these tender moments when Master Bruce once again resembles the small boy he once knew. It never crosses Alfred's mind to hope for Master Bruce to cease being the Batman, this city and her people need the Dark Knight. But Alfred has come to realize, with some reservations, that after the untimely and tragic deaths of Bruce's parents that that young boy became more than what he was, that in some strange way Bruce died that day with Thomas and Martha. It is no longer a feasible option for Bruce to stop being Batman. For that to happen Bruce would simply have to quit breathing. For it is the Batman that drives Bruce, it is the Batman that defines him.
"Miss Stone's driver informed me of her wishes of having you attend her show. No doubt you will have an agreeable time. It will also be a great opportunity for Bruce Wayne to be out and about enjoying Gotham's nightlife. "
"I'm not going", responds Bruce.
If Alfred is surprised he does not let it show.
"May I ask why, sir"?
"She is rude and pretentious," he states boldly. You should have seen the scene she created back at the brunch. No, I don't think it will be a good idea. Besides I have work to do."
"You surprise me Master Bruce." Alfred responds calmly. "First I would like to point out, if I may be so daring, that Bruce Wayne has been as mysterious and reclusive as the Batman lately, and if one is to believe the two are separate individuals than I would suggest having the comparison between the two be as far from similar as possible. Bruce Wayne is a young man. A young rich man. And he should be seen parading young beautiful women around town while spending enormous amounts of money on them. This is one such occasion that suits that scenario perfectly."
Alfred pauses to let the point sink in as Bruce thoughtfully looks on.
"As far as Miss Stone's antics go. . . . well. . . .what we allow others to see of ourselves is not always who we truly are. You of all people should understand that."
Jimmie Moretti was once a young vigorous man who held a lofty position in an elaborate crime syndicate. Today he is an out of shape, revolting, middle aged two-bit mobster. Jimmie, far removed from his ties with his former cohorts now pursues his semi successful self-made career of loan sharking. Although his current endeavors will never bring him the prominence and prestige he once held, it brings to him enough cash to afford all the oysters one man can handle and the added benefit of having something that was in short supply in his criminal youth. Pleasure. Pleasure of seeing people pounded to a pulp when the deadline to a loan has passed and the money owed has not been paid. Jimmie always makes it a priority to be present when such a moment happens.
Behind a popular Gotham nightclub in a dark filthy alley one such moment is taking place right now. Jimmie, who is never far from his silver bucket of raw oysters, slurps sloppily away at the fresh shellfish as his nephew, Antony, delivers blow after blow to the poor soul who has missed his payment deadline. Each hard blow reverberates against the walls of the alley, each punch sounding more vicious than the previous one.
Antony's cousin Tony, the youngest of the Moretti family, is spending his appointed time, as newcomers to the operation usually do, as Jimmie's assistant. The rest of the family affectionately refers to Tony as 'bucket boy'. His job is to stand close to his uncle Jimmie so that whenever the mood strikes him his uncle will never be more than an arm length away from a tasty snack. When the bucket gets low he then goes to the van that follows them wherever they go and fills it back up. At the moment Tony is trying to figure out whether the sick feeling he feels in his stomach is from the disgusting display of this uncle slurping down oyster after oyster or the horrible beating his cousin is giving to the unfortunate man. It may also stem from the look of pleasure that is on his uncle's face as he watches the beating unfold before his eyes.
Having taken in more than he can handle he turns back up to the entrance of the alley where Bruno, another cousin of his, stands looking out for cops while keeping unwanted passerby's from witnessing what's taking place further down the alley. The neon sign to the pawnshop just around the corner intermittently flashes in and out at irregular intervals eerily bathing his cousin in a green glow. As it flickers out his cousin becomes harder to see as the night's dark surrounds him only to flicker back on, revealing him once again. Tony swallows hard and thinks to himself that maybe he should not have entered into the family's business.
"What's going on, you daydreaming on me"? Jimmie asks snapping his fingers twice to get Tony's attention. "Pay attention here and take notes on what Antony is doing, you might have to do it yerself one day." He grabs another oyster cracks it open and throws it down his throat.
Antony stops to rest his aching fists as Tony strains to listen to the sounds of the music coming through the wall from the nightclub on the other side of it, wishing he were in there instead of out here.
Jimmie steps forward and Tony, with bucket, follows.
"Sylvester I told you this would happen if you didn't pay me my money, didn't I"? Jimmie waits for a response and continues when one doesn't come, "I understand if under the circumstances you don't answer me but Antony here, he don't like it when his uncle is disrespected. Do ya Antony?"
Following the cue Antony kicks Sylvester in the mid-section hard.
"Now from what I hear this club of yours is raking in the dough ever since I helped get you started. And from what I can see by the length of that line outside, those rumors are true. So I got one thing to ask ya, Sly. Where is my money!?"
Antony resumes his responsibilities when Tony looks back up to the entrance to the alley hoping that a cop will pass by and Bruno will tell them that they have to stop this and get going.
The green neon flickers out again engulfing Bruno in shadow when the telltale sound of Jimmie's ringed fingers banging around the bottom of the bucket searching for an oyster reminds him he has not been paying attention to his own duties. Just as he is about to go and replenish the bucket he hears a muffled sound towards the entrance of the alley that escapes Jimmie's ears. Snapping his head in that direction he looks for his cousin who at the moment is hid by the darkness. But as the neon flickers back to life Tony sees that the entrance to the alley is empty, Bruno is nowhere to be found.
Some sort of object flies by Tony's cheek in a blur. The rotating object strikes Antony in the back of the skull with a deep thud and knocks him face down into a pile of garbage bags. Tony watches in awe as the object flies back over his head returning to the direction it came from. He follows it and watches it get snatched out of the air by a gloved hand. Jimmie almost chokes on an oyster as he sees Antony drop, he then turns around to see a sight he was hoping never to have to see.
Replacing the batarang back into the depths of his cape Batman silently lurks in the shadows of the alley, Tony and Jimmie can barely make out his caped frame as he appears to just blend with the darkness like some inhuman nightmare come to life. Batman slowly steps forward slightly unraveling his shape from the dark, his eyes, the only part of his figure that reflects the small amount of light present in the alley, glow menacingly at Tony and Jimmie making his appearance even more frightening. The bucket falls to the floor disturbing the awkward silence. Batman walks completely out of the shadow and into the sporadic glow of the green neon. Being held by the back of the suit collar, Tony can see now what has come of Bruno, obviously out cold or worse his cousin's limp body is dragged out of the shadow by Batman and brusquely dropped in front of Batman's feet.
"Simpson Securities. Tell me what you know."
Jimmie clears his throat in an effort to try and regain some composure, "I don't know what you're talking about," he responds as Tony stands off to the side doing a great impersonation of a deer caught in headlights.
"Don't make me ask you a second time," declares Batman.
Jimmie snaps his fingers a few times and blurts out, "Simpson Securities, I uh, I think we have one of their safes back at the office, don't we Tony?"
In a blink of an eye Batman charges from his position over to Jimmie grabbing handfuls of his shirt and slamming him up against the brick wall.
Jimmie, putting his hands up into the air in submission quickly barks out, "Okay, okay. Yeah, yeah Simpson yeah alright."
Batman does not loosen his grip and continues to loom over Jimmie's face with a frightening contorted look multiplied many times over by the mask.
Behind Batman Antony slowly starts to get up out of the garbage. Jimmie catches a glimpse of this out of the corner of his eye.
"Back in the day the old crew I used to roll with . . . ." Jimmie looks past Batman to Tony, "Roll with, hey Tony, that's the way you guys say it nowadays huh?" Jimmie snaps his fingers, "These kids, I tell ya.
Batman's strengthens his grip.
"Simpson used to do some business for the old crew," Jimmie says quickly in a strained voice caused by Batman's firm grasp.
Antony now on his feet looks around to figure out what has happened and is startled at seeing the newcomer to the alley, the reason he took a face first dive into stinking garbage. Not one to have been thought of as the smartest guy on the block, Antony searches the floor finds a metal pipe and takes it into both hands.
Meanwhile Batman's jowls tighten and he moves in closer to Jimmie's face.
"Okay, okay on certain occasions when we needed money or certain sensitive materials transported, they having been an international business in all, they would stow away our stuff in hidden compartments inside the safes. The safes would then be moved to their destinations for later extraction of the hidden items, plain and simple."
Batman lifts Jimmie off the floor.
"They would also supply us secret access codes to some of their vaults that even the customer who bought the things didn't know about. We would periodically go in and take out small amounts of money from several different vaults at a time."
Trying to stall so Antony can get into position Jimmie continues on.
"They were an honest enough company providing a good product. They had the smarts enough to know a fruitful partnership when they saw one though. If ya know what I mean."
Antony slowly moves in behind Batman. He lifts the pipe over his head and brings it down hard and fast. At the last second Batman turns, moving Jimmie right under the swinging pipe. Batman allows Jimmie's unconscious body fall to the floor, in one smooth motion he then grabs the pipe still gripped tightly in Antony's hand and pulls it towards himself, bringing Antony along for the ride. He then shoves it back up striking Antony across the cheek and forehead. Antony lands on the floor right next to Jimmie and the silver bucket. Batman drops the metal pipe on Antony's chest then walks over and checks on Sylvester.
Without turning around he says, "Tony", Tony flinches at the sound of his name, "make sure this man gets medical attention."
Batman rises and walks right by him, a shiver runs down Tony's spine as he passes. Batman stops and slightly turns his head back.
"Tell Jimmie that this man's debt is paid in full."
A groan escapes Sylvester's mouth as he awkwardly tries to get on his feet. Tony goes over to help him, stepping over the unconscious bodies of his cousin and uncle. He realizes how fortunate he is that he is not laying on the concrete next to them. When he helps Sylvester up he turns back around to say thank you but finds that Batman has left as silently as he came.
After helping Sylvester to a bus stop bench across the street, he makes the call for an ambulance on his cell phone. He wonders what his uncle and cousins will think when they finally come to and find him not there. Maybe he will tell them that Batman kidnapped him and eventually let him go. They'd believe that. He didn't have the time to worry about that right now anyway. He had more pressing matters to take care of at the moment, and at the very top of his list was going home and getting himself a clean pair of underpants.