I would like to say that I do not own the rights to Batman.

BATMAN: LEGACY

By

Batman528

CHAPTER 1

Skeever had been working for months to set up the deal. Earning Blonsky's trust was no small feat. Blonsky was notoriously paranoid due to the fact he had been pinched by Interpol several years earlier. Since that time he had gone to excruciating measures to ensure his own safety. He never held a meeting without first doing an extensive check on the person he was meeting with, setting up the meeting place on his own, and dictating how the deal would take place. Doing business with Blonsky was painstaking, but worth it.

Looking around the apartment Skeever could see just how much the paranoia had gotten to Blonsky. The walls had been stripped bare so that no listening devices could be placed. In the kitchen where Skeever was sitting there were no doors on the cabinets. Everything was in the open where it would be impossible to place anything out of the ordinary. Skeever had arrived there a half hour early and had used the key Blonsky had given him earlier that day. Skeever liked to be early to a meeting in order to scout the place out and make sure it was safe.

Skeever heard the front door to the dingy apartment scrape open and turned around. Blonsky shuffled in, his boots scraping on the dusty floorboards. He quickly closed the door and chained and bolted it. He quickly took a seat and placed his bag on the table. He opened it placing the contents on the table in a neat fashion.

Skeever took a good look at Blonsky. He was in his forties and had thinning brown hair. He was wearing some incredibly shabby clothes, exactly the kind you would find on most Eastern European criminals. He was the kind of person you would take one look at and dismiss as just some fresh-off-the-boat immigrant who was living in the Narrows probably working at the docks. The reality was that Blonsky was one of the best smugglers in the world and was great at procuring high-yield explosives. He was the one you went to when you needed the best to get the job done.

Blonsky looked at Skeever across the table. He had laid out the C-4 and detonators neatly on the table. Skeever picked a detonator and looked it over. It was exactly what he had been looking for. After the destruction in Gotham following the invasion by Bane there had been a lot real estate that had been condemned. With the C-4 he would be able to get rid of some the condemned buildings and then some of his employers would be able to buy those properties dirt cheap and then sell them at a high rate to some property investors who would be able to build some high-end condos and shopping centers.

"Well is that what you wanted?" Blonsky asked. He was clutching the bag and squeezing the handle repeatedly. His legs were restless and were constantly moving under the table. Jesus, this guy is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Skeever thought. He placed the detonator on the table and said "Yeah, these will do." He picked up his own bag and pushed it across the table to Blonsky. Blonsky opened it and began flipping through the bills counting. It was one of the rules you learned very early on, always count the money even with the other guy still there, just to be sure you weren't being cheated. And in case they did cheat you, they would be right there so you could put a gun in his face and kindly ask why.

Blonsky looked up and said "Alright, it's all here." He began to gather the bag when the lights went out. Blonsky quickly uttered a curse and Skeever could hear him draw a gun.

"What the fuck is going on?" Blonsky exclaimed.

Skeever calmly rose up and said "Calm down, power's gone out. Happens a lot in these old dumps." Of course he himself reached into his own coat just to feel the reassuring bulge of his own weapon.

And that's when he heard the bedroom window opening. He could hear the screech and scape of the wood as the window was pushed open. The bedroom was around the corner from the kitchen and so it was very easy to hear what was happening. Although Skeever couldn't see him, he could tell Blonksy was turned towards him.

"You sure you alone?" Blonsky asked.

Skeever could hear the accusatory tone in the other man's voice. "Course I am. Who else would I bring with me?"

"I don't know maybe some heat?"

"Shit, you think the cops would sneak in the damn window? If this was a raid they would break down the front door and be stickin' guns right in our faces."

He could almost see Blonsky shaking his head. "You never know, maybe police trying new methods."

Skeever shook his head and drew his own weapon. He could hear Blonsky moving across the kitchen towards the bedroom and even briefly saw his silhouette framed by the open window. He heard the bedroom door open and Blonsky shuffling quickly through the door.

Suddenly he heard "What the hell!" and then there was a struggle in the other room. He could hear a few muffled thumps and then Blonksy's gun went off. Blonsky cursed and then there was a louder thump and he heard something heavy hit the floor.

Skeever stood absolutely still. There was a very faint sound of movement as someone moved from the bedroom into the living room. Skeever made sure he was in the corner between the front door and the kitchen that way he had a full field of vision of the tiny apartment. Then suddenly he heard someone rushing towards him. He fired in the direction he thought he heard the sound coming from and from the flash of the muzzle he briefly saw a figure clad in black pirouetting out of the way. Skeever fired blindly into the dark hoping to hit the attacker. Muzzle flashes lit up the room but Skeever couldn't see where the intruder had went. He quickly moved to his right toward the other side of the kitchen since by firing he had given away his position and the attacker would be moving straight toward it.

Right as he got to the other side of the kitchen Skeever felt something hit him in his left forearm. He yelped in pain and quickly shook his arm to get rid of whatever it was that had stung him. And in that instant the attacker was on him.

Skeever felt another hand grab his gun hand and he yelped in pain as he felt his hand violently twisted and he involuntarily dropped the weapon. And then he felt a hard right cross connect with his lower jaw. At 6'4" and three hundred pounds, Skeever was no pushover. It was because of his size that Skeever had gotten his start in the business as a leg breaker. He had been in his share of fights and had always come out on top. But the hit he took was enough to rattle him momentarily.

He quickly reached out and grabbed the attacker. He felt his hands grab hold of the other person's shoulders. Skeever twisted and threw the attacker up against the cabinets. The cabinets splintered from the force of the hit and he could hear the breath go out of the other person. Skeever began shaking him while at the same time moving his hands to his neck. Skeever felt the other person grab hold of his forearms and try to twist out of his grip. Skeever tightened his hands and then swung the assailant around then slammed him into the table, smashing it to pieces.

Skeever fell on top of him and used his weight to keep the attacker pinned. Skeever had gotten his hands on the attacker's neck and began to squeeze. It felt like the attacker was wearing some sort of vest or body armor. He couldn't get a good enough grip on the attacker's throat but he still squeezed as hard as he could. He felt the attacker's hands on his forearms but it just wasn't going to happen. Skeever could crush steel cans in his hands, so crushing someone's throat wasn't hard compared to that.

Suddenly the attacker managed to draw his legs in. Skeever felt both of the assailant's feet hit him square in the midsection. It was enough that it loosened his grip and he came up off the floor. Skeever could hear the attacker quickly jumping up. He then felt something hard like a metal rod hit him on his left shoulder. The arm went numb and suddenly Skeever knew he was in trouble. He quickly tried to swing his right arm but he missed and then he felt a similar blow land on his right shoulder. His right arm was now just like his left. He tried to scramble backwards away from the assailant in order to get out of his range of attack and buy himself some time.

As he scrambled backwards he ended up in front the living room window with moonlight falling on him. He heard the thump of the attacker's boots as he advanced toward Skeever. He was moving very slowly, almost savoring the moment. He had Skeever and he knew it. He just wanted to make Skeever that much more anxious.

"All right goddammit, you got the drop on me, why don't you go ahead and get this shit over with?" Skeever yelled. He was done and he knew it. The asshole could have the courtesy of just finishing him and not make him wait for it.

And that's when he stepped into view. Just like Skeever thought he was dressed in some kind of body armor. It covered his whole body. It was a dull black, made so it wouldn't reflect much light. He had some kind of military grade belt around his waist with pouches going all the way around. There was a blue trim on the chest of the suit, which formed a vague bird shape. And he was wearing some kind of mask, just enough to partially cover his face. And in his hands were two metal sticks, the kind martial arts guys like to use.

"Man, who the fuck are you? A cheap-ass Batman?"

The attacker calmly looked at him. "No, I'm not." And then Skeever felt something hard hit the side of his head and he was out.