Hello one and all. It has been a long time since I published anything on here, but oh how I've missed it. Since I finished 'Original Sin' much has happened. I had two children, one of which is now nearly 5 and starting school. The other is 2 and will be off to nursery, so I'll much more time on my hands. When I finished Original Sin, I think many of you asked about a sequel and although I feel that I ended it full circle, I really did love those characters and loved the idea of revisiting the world of Gotham. Since I ended Original Sin (or actually during) Dark knight rises was released and since then we've had Superman Vs Batman, Suicide squad , so hopefully I'm not completely out of date and you've all moved on! For what its worth, as we all are entitled to an opinion I loved Rises, but I was disappointed with Bane. I loved how they handled the Selina Kyle character but wish they had spent more time on her. And my version of Selina is no way near the one depicted in that film, like I said I started writing that even before the film's conception, had a break to have my baby and then finished it after it was released.
So with this new tale I wanted to revisit what I had created (all characters not mine of course) but I wanted to create a new villain, something different from Bane. And I had to move Selina on in the little world she had made for herself by the end of the first story. I've got a few chapters already written and I would massively appreciate feedback, what you feel, all thoughts and opinions welcome. If you haven't read Original Sin, it might be handy! Its bloody long so good luck, but enjoy.
But for now do let me know and be gentle if you can, it has been a while and I'm out of practice.
The Borghessi
The air smelled of salt, thick with mist rolling off the tides that were lapping at the dock's jetty. In the darkness the petit blonde woman crouched behind a dingy that had been moored to the quay. Her knees ached from the position she was squatting in, her feet freezing in the uncomfortable pumps, her raincoat barely keeping her warm. As if to irritate her further rain began to pelt gently down from above, making her shiver.
It'll all be worth it, she told herself. If she was right, if they came here then every blister she suffered would be worth the effort. She huddled further into her coat to protect herself from the brisk night air. Everyone on her team thought she was crazy, and if anyone knew she was actually here, well then they'd probably be right. No one in her office would have the balls to come down here, to the most notorious area of the narrows, in the dead of night, just on a hunch.
It was a good hunch, the woman told herself and she knew that if she wanted to get out of the gossip columns in the Gotham Gazette then she needed to take risks. This was the biggest risk she'd ever taken. She'd gotten wind of the news when the kids started to go missing. They weren't just any old kids. They were children of some of the wealthiest, most prolific figures in Gotham. So far three had been taken. At first, the GCPD had tried to play it down as runaways. The first kid to go was John Talbot, eighteen and a little hell raiser, the son of Judge James Talbot. He was a wealthy spoiled brat who regularly had run ins with the police. The press called it a runaway. A kid that couldn't get his own way or had jetted off with Daddy's credit card to 'find' himself.
But then when the second girl had vanished, after her graduation ceremony questions started being asked and eyebrows were raised in concern. Was there a connection? Why would a young woman with such a bright future ahead of her simply vanish? Eighteen year old Laura Jenner, the daughter of Clarke Jenner, the president of the First Bank of Gotham, was a straight a student and had a career practically mapped out for her in the bank, if she wanted it.
Then two weeks ago, Mayer Garcia's son had been taken from a nightclub in the financial district. He was nineteen, handsome and training to be a lawyer, just as his father had been. The woman had watched Garcia's emotional plea on the television and had felt sick. She'd met that boy several times over the years and he had always been polite and cordial, never striking her as a delinquent teenager.
So the woman had begun to do her own research, her own checking. For two weeks she had chased leads, some led to nothing but one had led her here. She had shamelessly flirted with the twenty year old dock manager one afternoon, pretending to have had car trouble and managed to snap a photo of the manifest. While he was out grabbing her a coffee she hacked the docking register and knew that tonight an unscheduled arrival was due here any minute. It had appeared last minute on the online register. It was a small vessel, not suitable for cargo so the woman wondered at the passengers coming ashore.
It was getting late and if possible, even more cold. She checked her watch, sighing at the ghastly hour, it was nearly two in the morning and the boat was late. Her legs beginning to cramp, she made a move to stretch out her calves when a vehicle skidded into the quay. Holding her breath she ducked out of sight, fiddling desperately for her cell phone. Breathing rapidly in the dark, she flipped the lid of her cell and switched on her camera to record. There was just enough light from the lamps dotted around the quay. The car doors all slammed open and three figures got out. The woman watched as one of them went to the rear of the car and opened the trunk. There was a muffled sound, like a man's voice and the woman stilled. She was too frightened to move and couldn't even she had wanted to.
A body was dragged out of the trunk, his head bagged but he was still struggling beneath the sack. She could make out his dusty clothes, his stained jeans and she feared the worse. At once the severity of her situation hit her and she was terrified. Suddenly everything seemed so much more real than when she was sitting in her apartment watching it on the news. Bile rose in her throat and she wished desperately that she could be at home.
Stay brave, she told herself, you've wandered into something bad but they aren't going to find you. She wished she could believe that as the three men dragged the person into the light of the jetty. To her horror and shock, they were wearing masks, shakily she held up her camera phone. Not just any old masks, they were clown masks.
"No way," she muttered. The Joker had vanished from Gotham nearly two years ago and nobody had heard from him or seen him since. He couldn't be back could he? From what little she knew of him, he was into the theatrical and kidnapping high profile teenagers did seem like something he'd do. In the struggle, she hadn't noticed that a boat had arrived at the dock; she swallowed and held up the camera.
"This is Vicki Vale," she whispered, "I'm reporting for the Gotham Gazette...its two fifteen in the morning and I'm down at the Willbank Gotham Getty...and...I hope you can see this but a boats arrived and there are men in clown masks...and I think they might have James Garcia under that hood..."
Talking to the camera, to her unknown audience seemed to make her feel better, like reality was somehow suspended and she was seeing through the camera. But she had a sick feeling in her gut that something was about to happen to shatter that comfort. Hazily she realised that she needed to get closer, she wasn't going to pick up any sound from here and the sound from the ocean would muffle anything she could get. She saw that there was a stack of crates only a few yards from where she crouched and if she could make it there unseen then that would be better than nothing.
Her breath caught, frozen, one ankle poking out from behind the dingy as one of the masked gunmen turned his head in her direction, flashing his torch. Sweat beaded on her forehead and when she dared to look, he'd missed her. She darted out and crawled on all fours to the crates, comfortably hidden from view. She held up the camera once more as three people stepped onto the jetty.
Two were male and one was female, with long dark hair. The female stayed back as her taller male companion stepped forward into the dim lights. He stepped toward the hooded man on the ground stopping directly at his feet.
Vicki noticed at once that he was fairly attractive, tall, broad and distinctly foreign with his thick black hair and tanned complexion. From this distance she couldn't make out his features only that he looked amused at the offering at his feet.
"He's alive?" he spoke, his accent so thick that she could barely make out what he said.
One of the gunmen nodded.
"Good work...take off the hood..."
Oh my god this is it! Vicki pressed zoom on her camera phone and bit down on her lip as the burlap sack was removed from his head revealing the bruised and bloodied face of James Garcia. The urge to run was upon her but she had to see this, she had to make sure that she got everything she could.
The man narrowed his eyes at the boy on the ground. "He is the son of the Mayor...correct?"
"That's right," the gunman replied. From his position on the ground James Garcia appeared to be blinking up at his kidnappers. Vicki felt appalled and sick at the same time. From behind them the woman laughed and clapped her hands together. Vicki couldn't see the other man at all, hidden behind the woman.
"Its him..."Vicki whimpered feverishly. "I hope you can see this...but it's him...James Garcia."
She knew that she had to act. She couldn't leave the kid to whatever fate that they had planned for him. Nervously she lowered the camera, about to switch it back into phone mode so that she could call the cops. That was when something began to happen on the dock. When she looked up the man had a gun and James Garcia began to scream through his gag. Sweat began to pour down her back, there was no time, and she lifted the camera at the precise moment he shot the boy squarely in the chest. Vicki Vale dropped back on her heels, every nerve on fire.
No, oh please no. In horror she watched the younger man slump, his short life now over. He keeled to the right, landing at the feet of the masked gunman.
She rocked on her heels, fighting the urge to scream, the camera shaking violently. God she'd sat next to him at dinner parties, he'd bought her various drinks over the years. He was young and was full of hope. Now he was gone. Vicki swayed on her heels. She wouldn't be able to forget that grim scene.
"Hang the body of James Garcia over the Finger River, the first son of Gotham. Let the Mayor know that Borghessi have arrived. And tell him that unlike our Italian cousins we won't be run out of town by the Dent Act. We owned this city long before they did and this will be our homecoming."
" Yes Reverend," came the muffled voice of the goon Vicki gagged as they scraped the body from the floor and bundled him into the trunk.
"The mayor will know our hatred of what this city has become. Weak and quivering in the shadow of a bat. If a man in mask can do this, what will our great family achieve? We can make Gotham what it was. Here…"
Vicki watched as the 'Reverend' handed over a piece of paper to the gunman. "A list of your targets. The twelve first children of Gotham. The children of the rich, the influential. Spoiled brats who have no idea how idyllic their lives are."
"Release John Talbot," the woman stepped forward into the light. From this distance Vicki could see that she was striking, her hair falling in dark waves down her back. Her accent was clear, more Americanised than her brother. And that was Vicki's journalist instinctive guess, that they were siblings. He described them as the Borghessi and apart from that, they were very similar. Vicki wondered if the woman had been here before, living here for some years for her to lose that thick accent.
"Yes," her brother agreed. "Release him back to terrified parents. Make sure that the Mayor knows we are a merciful family...if we get what we want. We'll hold the girl longer as a bargaining tool."
"And we will be in touch...you can tell your boss that we are in his debt," she finished the sentence, as if she were concluding a board meeting.
There was a flurry of movement, car doors opening and slamming, lights switching on and engines roaring to life. The gunmen loaded into the car and rapidly pulled out of the quay. The three mysterious figures returned to their boat, each getting on. Vicki exhaled softly, knowing that her ordeal was over and waited patiently for them to leave. The boat rumbled back to life and bobbed back out once more into the mist, as ghostly as when it had first appeared. It was then the severity of what she had just witnessed hit her between the eyes.
She sagged against the crate, her breathing rapid, and knowing that she was in the middle of a full blown panic attack, she clutched at her chest.
"Oh god...oh god..." she sobbed, her vision blurring and her arms growing weak. At that moment a shape appeared in front of her, a woman clad in black suit. Vicki was pulled out of her haze by the feel of a cool hand on her forehead; the woman eased her back, holding her firmly by the shoulders. She couldn't see the woman's face, she too was wearing a mask, but she could see the depth of her green eyes, ringed in black and a pair of red lips.
"Its alright...they're gone," the woman was struggling to sound comforting. "Just breathe, you're ok now."
"They killed him...there was so much blood..." Vicki spluttered. "Did you see...?"
"I know," the woman sounded bleak. "I was too late."
"You...you're the cat?" Vicki's breath was slowly returning to normal and her vision clearing. The woman wad squatting on her spiked heels, her shape completely covered in a black rubber suit. The woman smiled wryly.
"Is that what they're calling me these days?" she joked and then let her eyes wander over to the pool of blood under the jetty lights. Vicki saw the woman wince.
"I should've called the cops..I was going to but then they shot him...I should've helped him..."
"There was nothing you could've done," the Cat brushed her off. "They would've shot you and dumped you in that boat, then where would we be? We certainly wouldn't have video evidence. You need to take that directly to Gordon at the GCPD and tell him everything you saw."
Shakily the little blonde woman nodded. "And you? Will you come with me?"
"No I have to be somewhere else," she straightened and stood up, her long legs unfolding. "Can you walk?"
Without really waiting for a reply, the woman in black hoisted Vicki Vale to her feet. Vicki squinted up at her strange companion, her height and attire a little intimidating in this environment.
"My cars parked a few blocks away...ah...could you walk me there?"
To her surprise the Cat's face cracked in an impressive smile, catching her off guard. Vicki felt sure she'd seen that smile before.
"You've spent the last hour hiding from masked gunmen and you want me to walk you to your car?" she laughed. "I think you'll manage just fine."
Vicki blanched at that, but supposed that she was right. The cat wasn't very compassionate.
"So...I should just tell Gordon that the Joker is back in town right? I mean they were wearing clown masks."
At that remark the woman's smile faded and she stepped closer, causing Vicki to take a step back bumping the crate behind her.
"That isn't what I heard," she whispered through her teeth. "One thing I can assure you of is that the Joker is not back in town!"
She turned and began to walk into the darkness, the shadows appearing to engulf her like a blanket, like she was a part of the night. Vicki stepped forward, about to chase after her when a pair of headlights froze her to the spot. The sound of a great engine roared loudly through the dock and a bike stopped in front of her. Vicki stepped back inches from the front wheel.
The woman on the bike lifted her visor momentarily, long enough for Vicki to see those blazing green eyes glaring at her once more.
"Forget I was ever here and just get that footage to Gordon," she instructed. "And if I were you Miss Vale I'd keep a low profile. I certainly wouldn't want the Borghessi coming knocking at my door."
"And the Joker?" Vicki probed her blonde hair flying in the wind. The woman snapped her visor shut, so all she could see was her black shape and red lips.
"He isn't involved. You can trust me on that one." The bike roared and then she was gone, leaving Vicki Vale to stare open mouthed after her.
/
It was nearly five in the morning when Commissioner James Gordon stepped out onto the roof of the GCPD. The air was fresh and cool, a welcome change from the stuffy interior of the interrogation rooms downstairs. They'd finally let Miss Vale leave, under the strict instruction that she didn't report this incident and that they could confiscate her phone. The firey little blonde hadn't been happy about that. James Garcia's death would be all over the news by six when he would allow it to break. Right now officers were on their way to the Mayor's residence to give him the grim news and Jim feared for what was to come.
The Mayor certainly didn't need to see the footage of his only son being murdered all over the news.
"You let her leave?" a cool female voice said from behind him. "I hope you are going to keep an eye on her."
He turned abruptly, her stealth never ceasing to surprise him. "Actually, I was hoping you'd do that."
It was always a little jarring to see her, especially in the morning light. Clad head to toe in black, her shape cut an impressive figure against the city backdrop of Gotham. Her arms folded, she sauntered towards him. Green firey eyes stared at him, heavily ringed with thick black lashes; she exhaled and shook her head.
"No way Gordon," she refused. "I'm not babysitting that little idiot, not when we have bigger things to worry about...James Garcia is dead and the Borghessi are here. We've run out of time!"
"Speaking of which...you were supposed to intercept that little meeting and you were late?"
"I was held up...Jesus...you still don't trust me?" she hissed angrily. "Even after I handed Nigma to you on a plate?"
His brow furrowed and he took his eyes away from her, preferring to stare out at the breaking dawn, the hint of the sun about to make an appearance in the distance. He chuckled.
"Trust you Miss Kyle?" he replied darkly. "You'd be a fool if you ever thought I could trust you completely."
At that Selina Kyle pulled her mask free of her face, feeling a little suffocated. She watched his reaction as her long gold hair tumbled down her back, shaking it free like a wild cat shaking its mane. She stepped closer and knowing she had his attention she smiled grimly.
"So you still think I'm hiding him up somewhere huh?" she bit. "I don't know what I can do to make you my ally but I'm through being your little dogsbody!"
"What about the clown masks that Vale said they were wearing?" he accused. "Don't you think somehow he could be responsible? He's been gone an awful long time...long enough to plan a good comeback."
Selina rolled her eyes. "Whenever something has come up like this...you are always the first to point the finger at the Joker...and at me. Of course he could be responsible. But I know he isn't! Do you honestly think I'd stand by and let him kill a nineteen year old boy?"
"You let him escape...you've covered up your knowledge of his whereabouts..."
"I've been working with you for two years. Does that mean nothing!" she was becoming furious and her eyes were wide and angry.
He turned away, knowing he was pushing her and that she didn't deserve it. But he had gotten to know this mysterious woman and he knew that she worked better when someone pushed her buttons. Somehow it hit a raw nerve and seemed to enrage her. He would never admit it but without her help over the last two years, the dent act wouldn't have been so effective. It was she and the Bat who had ensured that the streets of Gotham were wiped clean.
But it was a two way street. Selina knew she was singing for her supper. He had a hold over her and she needed him. If he chose to, he could take away her lifestyle, this farce that she'd built around her and her days as Selina Kyle, the good Samaritan, and one of the wealthiest women in Gotham, would be over. But Gordon wasn't a bad man. And under it all, he liked Selina; he'd known her for so long and remembered the little girl she used to be. He wouldn't do that to her but he hoped the threat was enough to keep her towing the line.
"Gordon..."she started again, her voice disappointed and lost. "I'm not lying to you. He isn't here and I would know it. And I can't believe you'd think I'd let that kid die just to hide him. Don't you know me at all?"
The sun was rising and it cast a beam of light across the empty roof, Selina shivered in her suit. He leaned against the roof edge, sighing.
"I'm sorry," he finally admitted. "I don't think that."
"And if you recall...it was the Joker who warned us about them coming. He left Gotham because of them!"
He chuckled to himself. She really still believed that? The Joker left Gotham because it suited him to leave. Gordon didn't believe for a second that someone like the Joker was afraid of a mysterious Italian family. Neither did Batman. They both knew that the Joker had something planned and he would return when he was good and ready. Selina was clinging to that lie like a safety raft.
"What I'm worried about is the list of targets that were on that piece of paper," Gordon sighed.
She bristled. "Well," she was shaken, uneasy that he hadn't answered her. "Now what are we going to do?"
Gordon lifted his weary eyes. "Well you can go home to sleep Selina. You need to rest. Besides, I've a feeling you'll be putting in some late nights watching after Miss Vale. I don't think she'll let this one lie."
Selina rolled her eyes like a teenager. "You're kidding right? You want me to be her bodyguard?"
"Well we won't be releasing the footage yet...I just think the less people know the better and I have a feeling this little one will dig her heels in."
"Well she did take a huge risk in going there tonight," Selina said almost admiringly. "She's brave. And I'm positive she'll want the credit for that footage if and when you ever release it."
"Yes and I'm worried she'll go digging around in places that she shouldn't. If the Borghessi get wind that anyone was there, they'll hunt her down like a dog and we don't want the hassle of witness protection on our hands as well. Just be the sweet girl I know you are and make friends. Convince her that she needs to keep her nose out of trouble."
Selina shoved her hair back inside her mask, pulling it down over her head. "Sure...it's not like I've got anything else to do is it? It's not like I've got a business to run, or mouths to feed or a public image to up hold huh?"
They locked eyes and she saw a smile creasing at his eyes. She liked him, despite the way he treated her sometimes, he was basically a good man and she warmed to him. And oddly, he seemed to know her inside out, but then he had known her since she was eight years old.
"Not to mention my poor excuse for a love life," she whisked by him, knowing that he was watching her as she prepared to climb down the roof ladder to the alley below. "We meet up here so regularly that it almost feels like we are dating."
She caught him blush and duck his eyes. "I'll bring you a coffee up next time and we can call it a date. Just don't tell my wife!"
She smiled and began her descent. "Oh by the way...I need a new bike. The one you guys supplied is a heap of junk and that's why I was late."
He shrugged. "Why don't you tell our mutual friend? I'm sure he's got one lying around somewhere...be careful Selina."
I always am, she thought dismally as she began to climb down to the alley below. Her boots sloshed through a puddle as she jogged to her bike, parked up against a wall. As she mounted, she saw the beams of sunshine piercing through the leaden clouds and thought that out there somewhere Mayor Garcia was being told that his only son had been murdered.