Padraic's Cross
Cold it was in Gotham, cold as ever it had been in the monastery, with a biting wind that screamed like the damned on Judgement Day, a wind that blew fast and fierce through the stone canyons of this evil city. I hated it then, hated it for its cold, for it's strangeness, for it's corruption hidden beneath a thin veneer. It was my opinion then that few cities could more closely resemble hell. I had not been to Bludhaven then.
My name is Donal Mac Namara, brother of the Hidden Way, one of those charged with the keeping of certain things best left untouched. My tale begins some five years back, in Gotham, the devil's own city...
Chapter 1
Gotham
The shadows cast themselves across the roof of the Gotham City Museum, and a shadow moved among them. This shadow was alive.
Batman spotted the movement from his observation post atop the cathedral's belltower, a block away, and switched on his IR lenses. Adult male, dressed in black, wearing some kind of rucksack, and wearing, a broadsword on his back. Not a local boy, then. As Batman watched, the thief cut the glass skylight, first carefully eliminating the alarm wires with what appeared to be some kind of acid, fastened his line, and slid down to the museum's main chamber. Batman moved out.
The thief was moving quickly,. Time was short. He jogged through the long echoing hall, heading for the Ancient Europe display. He rounded the corner and went through the archway, scanning the chamber for his objective.
There. In among the Celtic and Saxon relics, dirty and battered and unremarkable, was the treasure he sought. He punched through the glass, and reached for his prize.
His midsection caught fire as the force of an unanticipated blow sent him back, down to the marbled floor. He rolled out of the fall, and came up with sword in hands.
"Next time you want easy pickings, try Metropolis. Put down the sword." Standing between him and the glass case was a giant, constructed from shadows and darkness, horned like a demon, with huge black wings fluttering behind it. Its voice was like thunder.
"Batman. Sure and I've heard of you." The would-be thief stood firm, unmoving. "Some say you're no man at all, but a demon from the pit. If that be so, then you are powerless against my protector, and I need fear you not."
"I'm not a demon. I'm worse than anything hell can send. Put down the sword, or I'll show you what I mean."
"If a mortal man you are, then I can best you in combat. Stand aside." Batman seemed to remain motionless, but a small piece of the shadow he was wrapped in cast itself out, a dark whirling bat-shape, attached to it's master by a slender cord. The little-bat wrapped around the sword-guard, and Batman jerked on the line. Taken by surprise, the thief watched his weapon skitter away across the smooth floor.
"My work is important, more so than you can imagine. Stand aside, or I'll throw you aside!" The thief took a ready stance, right foot forward, hands raised in an agressive guarding position. Batman stood, waiting.
The thief lunged, striking empty air as Batman side-stepped, whirling around and throwing a kick, only to have the vigilante catch his foot, and twist. He went flying to the ground, and that should have been the end of it, but he recovered himself, kept his feet, and charged again. Batman launched a forearm strike at his head, and he ducked, redirecting his downward momentum into a fierce uppercut, catching Batman on his chin, and following up with a knee driven into the detective's abdomen.
Batman sagged into the blow, let himself grow limp, then writhed in his adversary's grip, siezing his black tunic-front and throwing him, rolling backwards with the momentum. The two stood and faced each other again, this time with a new respect for their opponent's skills. The thief ran for the display case again, and Batman moved to intercept, trying to tackle the stranger, but the black-clad man leapt high, and vaulted over Batman, who was pushed to the floor.
The thief reached the case, seized the prize, and turned to run, but a batarang looped past him, and he was entangled in the polymer line. Batman pulled him in close and inspected him.
The man was dressed in black wool, simple tunic and pants, with a hood that covered the top of his head, and a scarf over his face. He had heavy leather sandals on his feet, and a leather bag at his side, which Batman rifled through. Several coils of rope, three grapnels, a couple of throwing knives, and a small flask that must contain the acid he'd used earlier. The kind of gear Catwoman might carry. He unmasked his bound prisoner, and studied the man's pale young face. Dark red hair and beard, cut in a most unusual way. The forehead was shaved up to the top of his head, except for a thin line of hair left above his eyes, looking like a headband.
"Medieval Irish tonsure. Why is a monk robbing a museum?" Batman demanded.
"So you recognise the corona. I am Donal Mac Namara, brother of the Hidden Way, and no thief. I only want to reclaim what belongs to the Brotherhood."
"You mean this?" Batman picked up the item from where it had fallen on the floor. "Why does it belong to you?"
"It doesn't." Batman whirled to face the soft voice behind him. He had not heard anyone approach.
"How many masked swordsmen are there tonight?" he growled. The newcomer was small, wiry, clad in black from the top of his masked head to the soles of his tabi-covered feet. Batman spared a second glance for the tabi. Japanese sock-shoes were a rare sight on the feet of Gotham burglars. He also had a sword on his back, but not a european broadsword of the kind that the monk had carried. It was a Japanese katana, single-edged, bow-curved and long-hilted, sheathed in black laquered wood.
"That item belongs to me now." The newcomer moved faster than almost anyone Batman had ever seen as he snatched for the object, but Batman was almost as fast. He pulled his hand back, and caught the other's wrist. The dark-clad man pulled and shifted, and Batman was thrown high and hard. For such a small man, he was tremendously strong.
Landing smoothly on his feet, Batman put the object back in the broken display case, and stood facing his new adversary. "It doesn't belong to you yet. You need to take it first."
"That looks to be a simple matter. Only you stand in my way." He leapt easily six feet into the air, grabbing a decorative banner overhead, and swinging himself up onto the flagpole it hung from. He jumped forward, flipping around as he landed softly, now between Batman and the object.
"You've studied ninjetsu."
"Very astute, caped crusader."
"So have I." Batman jumped high and to the left, connecting feet-first with the wall, and pushing off even as he pulled and threw four bat-shuriken, landing and rolling, coming up directly in front of the ninja, whose arm now had three of the tiny black throwing blades embedded in it. Blood oozed out of the wounds, but he made no noise, and his eyes showed no acknowledgement of the pain as he plucked them out and let them drop.
The ninja drew his sword, and lunged, cutting a diagonal stroke aimed at the juncture of neck and shoulder, quick as tought. Batman spun to the side and threw a vicious kick to the man's ribcage. He hadn't been quite fast enough, and blood dripped from his left bicep. They both wheeled, Batman reaching at his belt for a pair of batarangs, taking one in each hand as he met the ninja's next charge, parrying Japanese steel with triple-hardened titanium. He turned again, and again faced the blade. He flipped backwards and jumped to the side to gain time and space, hooked a three-foot length of line to each 'rang, and held them like nunchuka.
The katana came for him again, cutting low and thrusting high, and he twisted evasively as he spun his makeshift weapon, trying to get a clear shot in. Not easy. His opponent's weapon had the longer reach, and the keener edge. He rolled under, swung up, and wrapped the cord around the ninja's right arm, pulling tightly at it. The batarangs were wrenched from his grip as the shadow warrior twisted away, using his momentum to add impetus to a vicious horozontal slash. Batman wasn't there to recieve the killing blow, however, having rolled across the marble floor to where, forgotten all this time, the monk's sword had fallen. He scooped it up, and faced the ninja again.
The black-clad assassin stood in the guard position called Chudan no kamae. Right foot ahead of left, but both feet pointing forward, sword held with the left hand, the power hand, gripping just above the pommel, and a fist's span away from the navel. The right hand, the control hand, held loosely right below the guard, pointing the sword towards the opponent's eyes. Batman, recognizing the superior speed of the lighter bladed katana, chose Jodan no kamae, sword held above the head, ready to bring down with devastating force.
They came together with a silent thunderclap, all energy and lethal grace. The ninja lunged, thrusting, trying for a tsuki throat jab, and Batman swept the surprisingly light broadsword down in a smooth parry, following through with an up-sweeping cut that forced the ninja to give ground. Batman feinted high, kicked low, and lunged in to close the distance, locking guards with his opponent.
"You fight like a samurai, gaijin. Where did you learn?"
"I had good teachers." Batman tried to force the grips down and push off, but the ninja was holding fast.
"So did I, gaijin. And I don't have to limit myself to fighting like a samurai!" The dark warrior pulled back then, turning his backstep into a roll, and his roll into a jump, pushing off of the far wall and soaring up into the air, grabbing the flagpole again and swinging up and over, launching a half-dozen shuriken throwing stars as he did so, and coming to rest behind Batman, and once again in reach of his prize.
"Now, gaijin-samurai, this trinket does indeed belong to me. Sayonara!" He turned and bolted, running with incredible speed across the slick marble floor. Batman, whose cape had sheilded him from the shuriken barrage, tossed the sword away and moved in pursuit. Following came the forgotten monk, who had worked free of his bonds and recovered his sword. Left behind in the Ancient Europe room were three batarangs, ten shuriken, and a broken display case, with the label "GOLD CROSS: IRISH, BELIEVED TO DATE FROM THE SIXTH CENTURY."
**********
The ninja was faster than Batman, and stealthier. He had almost lost the man twice in the dark corridors, but always managed to stay one step behind. Now he neared another one of the big display rooms, devoted to the Age When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, and watched as his quarry entered the larger chamber, and moved out of his field of vision.
Batman was anticipating an ambush attempt when he left the hallway for the wider space, but nothing came. His prey, it seemed, was just trying to evade him. That would not happen.
He scanned the room carefully, using normal, IR, and Night Vision lenses. Nothing visible, but that was to be expected when hunting a ninja in a dark room. What he could see were the three skeletons, two allosaurs attacking a rearing sauropaud, aisles of smaller bone fragment displays, timelines, interactive charts, and three animatronic dromeosaurs hunched over a realistic-looking kill, their robotic feasting halted until the morning, when they would be turned on again.
There. Under IR scanning, the Jurrasic swamp foliage glowed slightly. He was behind it, and he was regulating his body's temperature, deliberately keeping it as low as possible. Batman knew of only twelve men who could teach that technique. He was one. This ninja must have found another.
Time for biographical probing later. He pulled his bolo launcher, a device he'd modeled after the de-cel lines he used, launching a heavy projectile rather than a drilling grapnel head. Firing, he moved forward, batarang ready in his other hand. The ninja leapt up, over the launching line, and threw his own grapnel, hooking it to an allosaur's jaw and swinging across the room, over Batman's head. Batman threw the 'rang, cutting the ninja's line, and dropping him to the hard floor, where he hit like a cat, and rolled up, running again. Batman chased, but a scattering of spiked balls across the floor forced him to delay just long enough to draw and fire his de-cel line into the sceiling. Swinging across, he came down right on top of the ninja, who now stood locked in a wrestling hold with the strange monk, who had evidently managed to get ahead of the shadow warrior.
Batman dropped a handful of sleeping gas pellets and donned his mask. The two combatants halted their fight, the monk dropping to ground while the ninja put on his own gas mask. Batman threw a roundhouse punch that sent the ninja sprawling, and jumped on top of him, struggling to remove his mask for a quick and easy finish. The ninja had other plans, and writhed like a mad serpent, twisting and striving, almost managing to slip free of the vigilante's grasp. Batman hit him a sharp, quick blow to the side of the neck, and he stopped struggling.
Batman stood and dragged the ninja aside, binding his wrists and ankles with plastic ties, and relieving him of sword and bag of tricks.
"Comm link Hermes beta seven."
"Oracle here."
"Contact GCPD, attempted museum robbery, two suspects, one of the-" He was cut off as a harsh blow to the back of his cowled head sent him sprawling. Rolling over, he saw the ninja, loose from his bonds, recover his gear, and run for the window. "Cancel that. I still have some work to do." He ran after, groping in his utility belt as he moved.
The ninja swept the sheathed sword in a hard arc, shattering the glass, and stared out at the five-story drop below him. Batman came at him then, throwing a batarang with one hand, and three of his shuriken with the other, the ninja parried the batarang, and dodged two of the shuriken, but a third one lodged in his hand, and he dropped his sword.
Batman tackled him, threw him to the ground, and grasped him by his collar. "This ends now." He growled.
"Not yet, Batman. You and I still have business with each other. And I still have one or two pressing engagements elsewhere. Forgive me for not staying to chat, gaijin-samurai, but I have an appointment I simply can't miss. Enjoy your evening." With that, he snapped the hard edges of his forearms out, breaking Batman's grip, and rolling backwards out the broken window, and down. Batman peered out after him. He had vanished entirely. Good. Now he had an edge in the game.
"You just let him escape with the cross!" Shouted the monk, who had recovered from the light dose of gas and moved to the window. "That relic is more precious than you can possibly know, and more dangerous, in the wrong hands!"
"He hasn't escaped. He only thinks he has. I planted a tracker on him just now. Come. If you want the cross to be recovered, help me get it back." He pulled a palm-top computer from his belt, and activated the tracking mode. Good. Already the ninja was moving faster than a man on foot, and headed directly out of the city. In that direction, there was only one logical destination.
"Where are we going?" The young monk demanded.
"Bludhaven."
Cold it was in Gotham, cold as ever it had been in the monastery, with a biting wind that screamed like the damned on Judgement Day, a wind that blew fast and fierce through the stone canyons of this evil city. I hated it then, hated it for its cold, for it's strangeness, for it's corruption hidden beneath a thin veneer. It was my opinion then that few cities could more closely resemble hell. I had not been to Bludhaven then.
My name is Donal Mac Namara, brother of the Hidden Way, one of those charged with the keeping of certain things best left untouched. My tale begins some five years back, in Gotham, the devil's own city...
Chapter 1
Gotham
The shadows cast themselves across the roof of the Gotham City Museum, and a shadow moved among them. This shadow was alive.
Batman spotted the movement from his observation post atop the cathedral's belltower, a block away, and switched on his IR lenses. Adult male, dressed in black, wearing some kind of rucksack, and wearing, a broadsword on his back. Not a local boy, then. As Batman watched, the thief cut the glass skylight, first carefully eliminating the alarm wires with what appeared to be some kind of acid, fastened his line, and slid down to the museum's main chamber. Batman moved out.
The thief was moving quickly,. Time was short. He jogged through the long echoing hall, heading for the Ancient Europe display. He rounded the corner and went through the archway, scanning the chamber for his objective.
There. In among the Celtic and Saxon relics, dirty and battered and unremarkable, was the treasure he sought. He punched through the glass, and reached for his prize.
His midsection caught fire as the force of an unanticipated blow sent him back, down to the marbled floor. He rolled out of the fall, and came up with sword in hands.
"Next time you want easy pickings, try Metropolis. Put down the sword." Standing between him and the glass case was a giant, constructed from shadows and darkness, horned like a demon, with huge black wings fluttering behind it. Its voice was like thunder.
"Batman. Sure and I've heard of you." The would-be thief stood firm, unmoving. "Some say you're no man at all, but a demon from the pit. If that be so, then you are powerless against my protector, and I need fear you not."
"I'm not a demon. I'm worse than anything hell can send. Put down the sword, or I'll show you what I mean."
"If a mortal man you are, then I can best you in combat. Stand aside." Batman seemed to remain motionless, but a small piece of the shadow he was wrapped in cast itself out, a dark whirling bat-shape, attached to it's master by a slender cord. The little-bat wrapped around the sword-guard, and Batman jerked on the line. Taken by surprise, the thief watched his weapon skitter away across the smooth floor.
"My work is important, more so than you can imagine. Stand aside, or I'll throw you aside!" The thief took a ready stance, right foot forward, hands raised in an agressive guarding position. Batman stood, waiting.
The thief lunged, striking empty air as Batman side-stepped, whirling around and throwing a kick, only to have the vigilante catch his foot, and twist. He went flying to the ground, and that should have been the end of it, but he recovered himself, kept his feet, and charged again. Batman launched a forearm strike at his head, and he ducked, redirecting his downward momentum into a fierce uppercut, catching Batman on his chin, and following up with a knee driven into the detective's abdomen.
Batman sagged into the blow, let himself grow limp, then writhed in his adversary's grip, siezing his black tunic-front and throwing him, rolling backwards with the momentum. The two stood and faced each other again, this time with a new respect for their opponent's skills. The thief ran for the display case again, and Batman moved to intercept, trying to tackle the stranger, but the black-clad man leapt high, and vaulted over Batman, who was pushed to the floor.
The thief reached the case, seized the prize, and turned to run, but a batarang looped past him, and he was entangled in the polymer line. Batman pulled him in close and inspected him.
The man was dressed in black wool, simple tunic and pants, with a hood that covered the top of his head, and a scarf over his face. He had heavy leather sandals on his feet, and a leather bag at his side, which Batman rifled through. Several coils of rope, three grapnels, a couple of throwing knives, and a small flask that must contain the acid he'd used earlier. The kind of gear Catwoman might carry. He unmasked his bound prisoner, and studied the man's pale young face. Dark red hair and beard, cut in a most unusual way. The forehead was shaved up to the top of his head, except for a thin line of hair left above his eyes, looking like a headband.
"Medieval Irish tonsure. Why is a monk robbing a museum?" Batman demanded.
"So you recognise the corona. I am Donal Mac Namara, brother of the Hidden Way, and no thief. I only want to reclaim what belongs to the Brotherhood."
"You mean this?" Batman picked up the item from where it had fallen on the floor. "Why does it belong to you?"
"It doesn't." Batman whirled to face the soft voice behind him. He had not heard anyone approach.
"How many masked swordsmen are there tonight?" he growled. The newcomer was small, wiry, clad in black from the top of his masked head to the soles of his tabi-covered feet. Batman spared a second glance for the tabi. Japanese sock-shoes were a rare sight on the feet of Gotham burglars. He also had a sword on his back, but not a european broadsword of the kind that the monk had carried. It was a Japanese katana, single-edged, bow-curved and long-hilted, sheathed in black laquered wood.
"That item belongs to me now." The newcomer moved faster than almost anyone Batman had ever seen as he snatched for the object, but Batman was almost as fast. He pulled his hand back, and caught the other's wrist. The dark-clad man pulled and shifted, and Batman was thrown high and hard. For such a small man, he was tremendously strong.
Landing smoothly on his feet, Batman put the object back in the broken display case, and stood facing his new adversary. "It doesn't belong to you yet. You need to take it first."
"That looks to be a simple matter. Only you stand in my way." He leapt easily six feet into the air, grabbing a decorative banner overhead, and swinging himself up onto the flagpole it hung from. He jumped forward, flipping around as he landed softly, now between Batman and the object.
"You've studied ninjetsu."
"Very astute, caped crusader."
"So have I." Batman jumped high and to the left, connecting feet-first with the wall, and pushing off even as he pulled and threw four bat-shuriken, landing and rolling, coming up directly in front of the ninja, whose arm now had three of the tiny black throwing blades embedded in it. Blood oozed out of the wounds, but he made no noise, and his eyes showed no acknowledgement of the pain as he plucked them out and let them drop.
The ninja drew his sword, and lunged, cutting a diagonal stroke aimed at the juncture of neck and shoulder, quick as tought. Batman spun to the side and threw a vicious kick to the man's ribcage. He hadn't been quite fast enough, and blood dripped from his left bicep. They both wheeled, Batman reaching at his belt for a pair of batarangs, taking one in each hand as he met the ninja's next charge, parrying Japanese steel with triple-hardened titanium. He turned again, and again faced the blade. He flipped backwards and jumped to the side to gain time and space, hooked a three-foot length of line to each 'rang, and held them like nunchuka.
The katana came for him again, cutting low and thrusting high, and he twisted evasively as he spun his makeshift weapon, trying to get a clear shot in. Not easy. His opponent's weapon had the longer reach, and the keener edge. He rolled under, swung up, and wrapped the cord around the ninja's right arm, pulling tightly at it. The batarangs were wrenched from his grip as the shadow warrior twisted away, using his momentum to add impetus to a vicious horozontal slash. Batman wasn't there to recieve the killing blow, however, having rolled across the marble floor to where, forgotten all this time, the monk's sword had fallen. He scooped it up, and faced the ninja again.
The black-clad assassin stood in the guard position called Chudan no kamae. Right foot ahead of left, but both feet pointing forward, sword held with the left hand, the power hand, gripping just above the pommel, and a fist's span away from the navel. The right hand, the control hand, held loosely right below the guard, pointing the sword towards the opponent's eyes. Batman, recognizing the superior speed of the lighter bladed katana, chose Jodan no kamae, sword held above the head, ready to bring down with devastating force.
They came together with a silent thunderclap, all energy and lethal grace. The ninja lunged, thrusting, trying for a tsuki throat jab, and Batman swept the surprisingly light broadsword down in a smooth parry, following through with an up-sweeping cut that forced the ninja to give ground. Batman feinted high, kicked low, and lunged in to close the distance, locking guards with his opponent.
"You fight like a samurai, gaijin. Where did you learn?"
"I had good teachers." Batman tried to force the grips down and push off, but the ninja was holding fast.
"So did I, gaijin. And I don't have to limit myself to fighting like a samurai!" The dark warrior pulled back then, turning his backstep into a roll, and his roll into a jump, pushing off of the far wall and soaring up into the air, grabbing the flagpole again and swinging up and over, launching a half-dozen shuriken throwing stars as he did so, and coming to rest behind Batman, and once again in reach of his prize.
"Now, gaijin-samurai, this trinket does indeed belong to me. Sayonara!" He turned and bolted, running with incredible speed across the slick marble floor. Batman, whose cape had sheilded him from the shuriken barrage, tossed the sword away and moved in pursuit. Following came the forgotten monk, who had worked free of his bonds and recovered his sword. Left behind in the Ancient Europe room were three batarangs, ten shuriken, and a broken display case, with the label "GOLD CROSS: IRISH, BELIEVED TO DATE FROM THE SIXTH CENTURY."
**********
The ninja was faster than Batman, and stealthier. He had almost lost the man twice in the dark corridors, but always managed to stay one step behind. Now he neared another one of the big display rooms, devoted to the Age When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, and watched as his quarry entered the larger chamber, and moved out of his field of vision.
Batman was anticipating an ambush attempt when he left the hallway for the wider space, but nothing came. His prey, it seemed, was just trying to evade him. That would not happen.
He scanned the room carefully, using normal, IR, and Night Vision lenses. Nothing visible, but that was to be expected when hunting a ninja in a dark room. What he could see were the three skeletons, two allosaurs attacking a rearing sauropaud, aisles of smaller bone fragment displays, timelines, interactive charts, and three animatronic dromeosaurs hunched over a realistic-looking kill, their robotic feasting halted until the morning, when they would be turned on again.
There. Under IR scanning, the Jurrasic swamp foliage glowed slightly. He was behind it, and he was regulating his body's temperature, deliberately keeping it as low as possible. Batman knew of only twelve men who could teach that technique. He was one. This ninja must have found another.
Time for biographical probing later. He pulled his bolo launcher, a device he'd modeled after the de-cel lines he used, launching a heavy projectile rather than a drilling grapnel head. Firing, he moved forward, batarang ready in his other hand. The ninja leapt up, over the launching line, and threw his own grapnel, hooking it to an allosaur's jaw and swinging across the room, over Batman's head. Batman threw the 'rang, cutting the ninja's line, and dropping him to the hard floor, where he hit like a cat, and rolled up, running again. Batman chased, but a scattering of spiked balls across the floor forced him to delay just long enough to draw and fire his de-cel line into the sceiling. Swinging across, he came down right on top of the ninja, who now stood locked in a wrestling hold with the strange monk, who had evidently managed to get ahead of the shadow warrior.
Batman dropped a handful of sleeping gas pellets and donned his mask. The two combatants halted their fight, the monk dropping to ground while the ninja put on his own gas mask. Batman threw a roundhouse punch that sent the ninja sprawling, and jumped on top of him, struggling to remove his mask for a quick and easy finish. The ninja had other plans, and writhed like a mad serpent, twisting and striving, almost managing to slip free of the vigilante's grasp. Batman hit him a sharp, quick blow to the side of the neck, and he stopped struggling.
Batman stood and dragged the ninja aside, binding his wrists and ankles with plastic ties, and relieving him of sword and bag of tricks.
"Comm link Hermes beta seven."
"Oracle here."
"Contact GCPD, attempted museum robbery, two suspects, one of the-" He was cut off as a harsh blow to the back of his cowled head sent him sprawling. Rolling over, he saw the ninja, loose from his bonds, recover his gear, and run for the window. "Cancel that. I still have some work to do." He ran after, groping in his utility belt as he moved.
The ninja swept the sheathed sword in a hard arc, shattering the glass, and stared out at the five-story drop below him. Batman came at him then, throwing a batarang with one hand, and three of his shuriken with the other, the ninja parried the batarang, and dodged two of the shuriken, but a third one lodged in his hand, and he dropped his sword.
Batman tackled him, threw him to the ground, and grasped him by his collar. "This ends now." He growled.
"Not yet, Batman. You and I still have business with each other. And I still have one or two pressing engagements elsewhere. Forgive me for not staying to chat, gaijin-samurai, but I have an appointment I simply can't miss. Enjoy your evening." With that, he snapped the hard edges of his forearms out, breaking Batman's grip, and rolling backwards out the broken window, and down. Batman peered out after him. He had vanished entirely. Good. Now he had an edge in the game.
"You just let him escape with the cross!" Shouted the monk, who had recovered from the light dose of gas and moved to the window. "That relic is more precious than you can possibly know, and more dangerous, in the wrong hands!"
"He hasn't escaped. He only thinks he has. I planted a tracker on him just now. Come. If you want the cross to be recovered, help me get it back." He pulled a palm-top computer from his belt, and activated the tracking mode. Good. Already the ninja was moving faster than a man on foot, and headed directly out of the city. In that direction, there was only one logical destination.
"Where are we going?" The young monk demanded.
"Bludhaven."