The Caped Crusader
Author' Note: I do not own any characters in the Batman world (DC and Bob Kane do) nor do I own any of the characters or settings of the Batman franchise (Warner Brothers and Christopher Nolan have that distinction)
"Let's go, give your money pops, I ain't got all night here!" shouted the young punk with the gun.
The old man frantically searched his pockets for his wallet, adrenaline coursing through his body. His hands shook violently as he pulled out the wallet.
"C'mon man!" the punk shouted again and pistol whipped the old man on the side of his head, nearly knocking him out. The wallet clattered to the ground and quickly picked through. Several credit cards went flying behind him, and two pictures of his family fluttered to the ground, causing the old man to moan and mumble something. "What's that pops?" the punk asked.
"The…..the Batman…will…will get you," he sputtered.
The adolescent laughed hysterically. "The Batman? Ha! Don't you watch TV gramps?! The Batman is a murderer, and the fuzz are after him. Shit, he probably got caught already…probably locked his ass up in a room at Arkham," he finished and kicked the old man in the stomach. "The Bat! Nobody even seen the guy in like two months—he's gone old man. Nobody comin' to help your wrinkly ass tonight!"
"Guess again," a voice growled in the night.
The punk didn't look up for a second, hoping he was hearing something. Quickly two gloved hands shot out of the darkness and gripped him by the shoulders, pulling him back. At once he was lifted and launched into the side of a building, slamming his shoulder into it and breaking a rib. The mugger crumpled to the ground and struggled to get up, looking around for his gun. A black boot shoved him back down and the figure before him bent to get a good look.
There was no mistaking who it was. "You're a criminal like me!" the punk shouted with fear in his voice.
Batman grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. "I'm nothing like you. You're the trash this city has a problem getting rid of. I'm still cleaning up." Quickly he swung around the boy and flexcuffed him to a dumpster.
The old man moaned to get Batman's attention. Quickly the vigilante checked him over for serious injuries and collected the items of his wallet for him. As he helped him stand, the elderly victim clapped Batman on the shoulder. "I knew you were still out there. Thank you."
Batman took a few steps back and fired his grapping hook into the sky, latching on to a flagpole on the roof of one of the apartment buildings. Looking back at the old man he nodded and softened his voice a little. "You don't have to thank me," he said and launched himself into the sky. He smiled a he watched the Dark Knight swoop away into the night, hoping nobody else saw him.
Unfortunately, three different people did see him zip past their windows and called the police.
All units be advised: Suspect known as the Batman has been sighted in the vicinity of Fifth Street and Ashing Drive heading north out of West Harlow—The Batman is considered armed and extremely dangerous, proceed with caution, cackled the police radio.
Two uniformed officers patrolling the Stokely rail station raced down from the platform to their patrol car and lurched onto 3rd Street, headed west, and quickly raced up 7th Street, lights and sirens screaming into the night.
An air unit patrolling near the Narrows banked hard to the left and headed towards West Harlow, its spotlight beam darting across the streets to catch a glimpse of the Bat. Three more units responded to the call and began converging in the area they thought the vigilante may be.
Within two minutes six different uniformed cars, two undercovers, and a helicopter had converged on to West Harlow. Others were already forming a perimeter around the neighborhood. The Batman wasn't getting away this time.
Batman had hidden the Batpod near the corner of 9th Street and Fourth Avenue, but getting there was going to be an issue. He crossed the roof of an apartment building at Hatters and 8th Street, and stared east at Wayne Tower as it loomed in the near distance. Looking back he could hear the Gotham PD cars coming closer, and he quickly transmitted a call to Alfred who was waiting back at the bunker.
"Anything from Gordon?"
Alfred checked the special device they created for police Commissioner James Gordon to contact them. "Nothing, sir. Quite quiet."
Batman cursed under his breath. "Listen closely to the scanners, I'm going to need some help navigating around the perimeter they're setting up."
"As it sounds right now, Master Wayne, it seems all of West Harlow is being cordoned off. If you hurry you could split their perimeter before it's settled up. Taking the highway to the Exchange Bridge should do it. They have an air unit on its way too, sir," Alfred responded with his crisp British accent.
On cue the helicopter appeared overhead and its light continued to search for him. Turning quickly he hid behind the roof access door as the search beam crossed in front of him. Sticking to the shadows he fired his gauss gun at the Gotham rail tracks and swung across two blocks, closing to less than a block away from the Batpod.
That's when the beam caught him. The helicopter pilot didn't hesitate to call it in. Dispatch—dispatch, this is Air Three. Suspect located at the corner of Fourth Avenue and 8th Street. Repeat, we have the Batman located at Fourth and 8th! All units respond!
The report was quickly relayed to the rest of the units of GPD, and four broke the perimeter to move in.
"Better move quick, sir. They have you spotted," Alfred radioed.
The spotlight bathed Batman in white and he swooped down next to the Batpod, hopped into the seat, and fired it up. A split second later the two-wheeled beast tore into the night with the police helicopter following close behind. Air Three in pursuit of suspect now on motorcycle-type vehicle heading northbound, repeat, northbound on 9th looks like he's going towards the highway!
Two GPD marked units closed right on the Batpod as it zipped past them, ripping off their side view mirrors. Batman leaned to the right and merged on to the highway as the two cars spun into 360 degree turns and headed after him.
The engine roared inside the wheels of the Batpod as it zipped through traffic, the white spotlight still sticking to the vehicle as it continued north towards the Exchange Bridge.
Three units jumped on to the Eleventh Avenue entrance as the Batpod flew past them. Sirens wailed, piercing the night air as the Batpod continued to evade Gotham police who were hot on his trail.
He leaned to the right on to the shoulder and had a clear shot of the Exchange Bridge over the Gotham river and opened up the engine to full throttle. A GPD unit was stopped ahead and spike strips used to slow down a vehicle was being laid out. Batman fired two cannon shots at the strip and blasted it out of the way as the GPD officer leapt out of the way.
Two more GPD cars crossed in front of him to block the road. Their officers took up positions behind their front doors and took aim. Batman fired two short bursts of gun fire at their hoods, spooking the officers to take cover on the shoulders of the highway. Once they were clear and not in any immediate danger, he unloaded with cannon fire, blasting the GPD cars out of the way. The engine roared as the officers heard him go by.
The Batpod hit full speed as the GPD cars began to lose sight of him. The air unit, however, still had him in view and continued to radio in his location.
Gotham Arena began to appear on the horizon, getting bigger and bigger as he closed on it. The huge Jumbotron screen advertising the Arena's events flashed bright, announcing that the Haley Circus was in town. Quickly another advertisement flashed on the board, with the main attraction of the circus, the Flying Graysons. Over two miles ahead, a 18-wheeler lumbered on, unaware to the police chase behind him. Batman flipped a switch and punched a black button on the right handlebar, activating the nitrous oxide tanks that boosted the Batpod to a speed even the air unit had trouble keeping up with.
Batman weaved in and out of a few other cars, racing to catch up to the truck. He only had one shot or else he'd be spending the rest of the night racing around Gotham City evading the police without any help from Gordon.
Air Three still in pursuit! Suspect has increased speed well over 120 miles per hour, and we're having an issue keeping up. All units converge on the Gotham Arena exit! came the call from the police helicopter. The light trailed the Batpod a few yards as the overpass exit for the Arena came up. Police units stopped on the overpass leaned over the protective railing and began opening fire on the Batpod as the 18-wheeler rumbled below. Batman pushed his body down, stretching the Batpod out and lowering himself closer to the ground. Throwing his right shoulder into it and putting the cycle on the sides of the two big 20-inch tires he slid underneath the trailer and stayed low as he and the truck cleared the pass.
Air Three's spotlight frantically searched around the highway looking for any sign of the Batman.
This is Air Three. We lost him, repeat, we lost him.
He kept the Batpod underneath the trailer for another few miles until the wail of the sirens faded in the distance. The helicopter had given up its search and once again Gotham police had missed their chance to catch the cop killer vigilante. He split away from the truck, surprising the driver as the black motorcycle sped past him and doubled back, heading east towards the Gotham Docklands, where his makeshift bunker sat.
The moon tucked away behind some clouds, reducing visibility in the night, and Batman quietly slowed the Batpod to a idle into the Wayne Enterprises salvage yard and into the container box that provided access into the bunker. Batman pulled the Batpod off the elevator platform and shut it down, sliding off the cycle.
"I take it they lost you, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he greeted the Dark Knight.
Batman pulled off his cowl and placed it on the desk of the computers in front of him, slumping into the chair. "What was your first clue?" he replied as he began pulling off the Batsuit. It was then that he noticed he had been shot, nicked behind his left shoulder.
"I say Master Wayne, if you're going to keep doing this, you may want to consider using the old Batsuit until the authorities clear you of being a murdering cop killer."
"I lose mobility and flexibility, Alfred," responded Bruce Wayne.
"Well I know that sir, but the police are going to take shots at you until they have you dead or in their custody. The old suit was a little more bullet resistant than this one," the butler said as he began to clean and dress Bruce's wound.
"Perhaps Mr. Fox can work on some sort of hybrid suit?"
Bruce pondered the thought, then began typing on the computer the events of the night.
Alfred finished putting the stitches on Bruce and wiped him one last time with peroxide and rubbing alcohol, then helped him put on a fresh shirt. "Anything else exciting happen tonight, sir?"
"They're getting bolder Alfred. They think now that Gotham PD has me as their number one most wanted, they can run wild. Laying low these last two months was not the best move," Bruce resigned with a huff.
Alfred shook his head as he placed the surgical instruments in their stainless steel container. "The Joker did a number on Gotham, sir, including breaking Mr. Dent. The people of this city are still trying to get used to you. Not everyone believes you killed those people, sir. Some cops know you stopped the Joker. The rumors are enough to make GPD's hunt for you problematic. Let's not forget Commissioner Gordon has helped you numerous times as of late. This is what you must endure to save Gotham, Master Wayne. To be their hero later, you'll need to be their enemy now."
"The mob is broken now, Alfred. And I cannot be out there long enough to make sure someone doesn't take command of them again. Not as Batman. Not when Gordon has to let GPD hunt for me."
Alfred leaned in close. "Then perhaps, sir, you shouldn't go out there as Batman. When you started this, you stated that you wanted to strike fear and terror into the hearts of the criminal underworld that infects Gotham. And I supported you sir, when you chose the bat as your avatar. But maybe the bat as served its purpose for now. Maybe you can go out there as another persona, one that isn't supposed to scare but to work from the inside."
"Inside?" Bruce asked quizzically.
"Become one of them, sir. Infiltrate the remnants of the mob, whatever is left of the Maroni/Falcone Family. You wouldn't need to be Batman all the time and be in position to finish off the major criminal elements of the city. Then, when the time is right, you make Batman known again as the one who got rid of those men."
"You're telling me to become a mobster?"
Alfred chuckled. "In a way, yes sir. But you still have to be Bruce Wayne, too. So I wouldn't suggest making this a full time thing."
"I think people may recognize me without the cowl, don't you?"
Alfred smiled and walked away from Bruce, saying over his shoulder, "I think you're smart enough to change your appearance, Master Bruce. You do with your voice when you put on the suit."
The following morning Alfred returned to the bunker to find Bruce asleep on a cot with drawings strewn about the floor near the computer. Four monitors had different disguises and mockups for the new persona he had mentioned to Wayne the night before. None looked very convincing.
He shook Bruce awake and pointed out the breakfast he had prepared for him. Wayne shook his head to wake up a little more, quickly downed his orange juice, and began doing push-ups, a daily routine.
Alfred looked at the drawings and screens and squinted. "I certainly hope you aren't going to use these, sir."
Bruce finished a set of 50 push-ups and climbed to his feet. "Why not?"
"Well, these are rather obvious, don't you think?"
Bruce pointed to one on the top right screen. "He works."
The disguise was a audacious zoot suit, black with thick white pinstripes and saddle shoes. The name "Dapper Vinny" was listed underneath it. "When's the last time you saw a mobster in Gotham wear something like that?"
Wayne nearly inhaled his toast, and mumbled between bites "Maroni's men wore suits like that."
Alfred dropped his head. "Perhaps we need to get you a new cowl sir. Maroni's men certainly did not wear those hideous pieces of clothing. I don't think a criminal in Gotham will take you seriously with the name 'Dapper Vinny,' sir."
Wayne waved him off. "Well I'll work on it. I need to see Gordon tonight, so Batman will live for another day."
The butler picked up an envelope and held it up to gain Bruce's attention. "Actually sir, you have something else you have to attend to tonight. As Bruce Wayne."
Bruce got up and walked towards Alfred. "What are you talking about?" he said and snatched the envelope out of his hand.
"A new club is opening up downtown. An Englishman owns it, and its gathering a lot of star power for its first night. It is the kind of thing Bruce Wayne would be at. The kind of thing Bruce Wayne should be at, sir."
Wayne read the invitation. Two VIP tickets fell out of the envelope, with Alfred picked up as Bruce continued reading. "The Iceberg Lounge, huh? I guess I'll be going out tonight. Have a suit ready for me at the penthouse. And I'll want three girls tonight—make sure Haley is one of them."
"Of course sir," Alfred replied and began to leave.
"Alfred," Bruce called out quickly, lifting the invite up. "You ever heard of this owner?"
"No sir. England is quite a large country, sir."
Wayne smirked and put the invitation down on the desk.