SHADOW OF THE BAT: Created Equal
The Gotham City Police Department is failing the citizens of Gotham City and the people are being held hostage in their own homes by organized crime. Officer Barbara Gordon feels she can make a difference but she needs to get out from behind a desk. As if things couldn't get worse, a close friend of Barbara's is attacked and Barbara has finally had enough. Inspired by Gotham's shadowy vigilantes, whom she follows closely in the media, she takes to the streets as BATGIRL to deliver justice in a way the GCPD cannot. Does she have what it takes to deal with the harsh dangers of vigilante-life? How far is she willing to go? And, what will happen when the elusive and terrifying BATMAN finds out that she is impersonating him? Will he consider her an ally or treat her no differently than any other criminal?
"Created Equal" is a short story that re-envisions the young vigilante, Batgirl, in a dark, unforgiving Gotham City. Through her, we view a world plagued by corruption and evil and follow her as she embarks on a vigilante crusade to take back the night. Expect a visit from none other than the Caped Crusader, Batman, and the first Robin, Dick Grayson! Strap on your capes and pull on your cowls, it's going to be an empowering one.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Batman. DC Comics and Bob Cane do. I'm just a huge fan that grew up in the shadow of the bat, that wants to expand the mythos.
Also checkout:
Shadow Of The Bat: Best Served Cold
Shadow Of The Bat: What's A Girl To Do?
Shadow Of The Bat: Flying Solo
AND...
STAY TUNED FOR:
Shadow Of The Bat: Bats Of A Leather (Coming July)
Shadow Of The Bat: Janus
Shadow Of The Bat: To Kill A Gotham Bird
Shadow Of The Bat: Devils' Night
Shadow Of The Bat: Laugh To Death
:::Four years-prior to the events of SHADOW OF THE BAT: Best Served Cold:::
8:13AM
"Dad, I really want transfer to the Gang Unit or the Major Crimes Unit. I talked to my captain about a potential transfer but he said that he couldn't endorse it without your approval. Care to explain?"
My name is Barbara Gordon. I'm a 24-year old native of Gotham who worked as a police officer assigned to the Cyber-Crimes Division of the Gotham City Police Department. Cyber-crime is a constantly busy and integral part of law enforcement and I was grateful for landing the job. Honestly, though, I was bored out of my mind and wanted to do something more high speed. Problem was: I couldn't branch out in the force because my precinct commander was remiss to allow me. Matter of fact, I found out that he was being blocked by the guy all the way at the top, my father, Commissioner Jim Gordon.
I don't know what made me angrier, the fact that my boss didn't have any stones or the fact that my own father was using his leverage as the Police Commissioner to prevent me from moving away from a desk-job. If my father wanted to manipulate the chain-of-command to keep me under his watchful eye, then I'd skip the chain-of-command entirely and just take my grievance to him directly. I see your move Jim Gordon and I'll raise you one.
"Honey, I don't think the GU or the MCU are good fits for you," my father said half into his hand. It had been plastered to his cheek since the moment I walked through his office door. "Plus, your expertise makes you a major asset to the C2D."
The phone rang but he ignored it with a glance.
"What do you mean, 'not a good fit'? You know, while you may still think I'm a prissy, little girl, I've grown up. I've dealt with worse than what Gotham has to offer."
"Honey, you were anything but prissy as child—"
I didn't let him finish. "I want to be in a department where I can make a real difference. In the C2D, all I do is read emails and monitor networks. That's not the difference I saw myself making. I want to be in the trenches where the dirt happens. I want to be where I can make a direct impact on the lives of Gothamites."
"I understand that—"
The phone rang again. He glanced down at it.
I cocked my head trying to regain his attention. "So what's the problem?"
We regarded each other silently; our expressions similar, mine taking after his side of the family. He said nothing, so I started in, "I don't know where this overinflated belief that I need to be protected from the dangers of the world is coming from. I'm perfectly capable of standing on my own two feet and—"
The phone started ringing yet again; that was the seventh time since I walked into his office.
His finger shot up. "I've got to take this one real quick.
"Commissioner Gordon. Huh? Are you serious? That man is going to be the death of me. Okay. I'll call him. Thanks, Glenda."
He hung-up the receiver and looked up. "Barbara, listen—can we talk about this another time? Right now I have a mayor so far up my ass that I can taste his shoe polish and I'm dealing with a major internal affairs fiasco."
"Yeah," I said turning to leave, "sure, dad. Whatever you say."
I pushed through his door and marched across the executive floor to the stairs with as much purpose as I could muster in hopes that it would demotivate anyone with the intent to stop me. I was in no mood to have anyone try to pump me for Commissioner-gossip like I'm my dad's personal repository for strategic planning. The best way to kiss the Commissioner's ass was not through his daughter.
Despite my intensity, I could feel everyone's stares. They were watching me from their doors, through their windows, and over their cubicles as if they all knew what was going on. I felt instantly self-conscious.
I knew they all thought I was coming up here to get a handout from daddy-dearest but that wasn't at all my goal. I had to work hard for everything in life and I wouldn't take anything that I didn't work for—call me prideful. After all, it wasn't like I was Bruce Wayne and grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I just wanted what I deserved.
In Jim Gordon's house, you didn't take the easy way out, you played the cards you were dealt to the best of your ability. Even Jacks and Queens, when played properly, can win books, he would say to me. Dad loved playing Spades; he used to play all the time when he was in the Army. Apparently, he loved the game enough to relate life lessons to it.
Anyway, I took his advice and gave one hundred ten percent one hundred ten percent of the time. I graduated salutatorian of my high school at 16 and after spending a year in the community college, I decided to be one of the Few-and-the-Proud by enlisting in the United States Marine Corps as a combat engineer. My father wasn't very happy about that decision but he didn't voice it. I spent most of my tour in Japan and deployed to the warzone. After I came back to the states and discharged, I enrolled at the University of Gotham City graduating with my Bacheleor's Degree in Information Systems and a Master's Degree in Crypto-Network Securty in only three years. To put it bluntly, I was more qualified than the majority of the people on the force and could have been a huge asset to those frontline departments. Instead, I was going to go back to my office and sift through a horde of phishing emails—tip of the spear, premier crime-fighting. Yippee—I couldn't wait to get back to that.
A wave of relief washed over me once I made it into the stairwell and out of the hungry eyes of the executive staff.
As I neared the bottom of the stairs, it sounded like I was walking into a zoo with all the hollering coming from the front desk. There was a middle-age man dressed in rain-soaked street clothes stirring up a mountain of commotion in the lobby, banging on the desks and counters and throwing papers and any loose object he could get his hands on. The security detail was trying to calm him down—albeit, not doing a good job of it—and restore some semblance of order. My interest was piqued, to say the least, so I rubber-necked as I exited the stairwell and walked to the far side of headquarters. I wasn't alone; everyone within earshot came to see what the ruckus was.
My coworker Cecil Murphy was among the crowd of spectators. He was watching the drama from the mouth of the hallway that lead deep into the bowels of Gotham Central where the C2D was sequestered.
"Murph," I tossed a thumb over my shoulder as I approached him, "what's this nonsense all about?"
He shrugged without taking his eyes off the scene. "Some urchin came in off the street saying that he needed to be arrested. Not really sure what for but he did say that the Bat was after him."
"The Bat, huh? In broad daylight?"
"Yeah." He shook his head. "The Bat has this whole city in a headlock, even by day. How long has it been? Three years?"
"Sounds about right."
"Sometimes I wonder whose side the Bat's on...when stuff like this happens, I mean."
The hysteria in the man's face was sincere and flush; he was practically frothing at that mouth. The Bat had him genuinely terrified. Either that or the drugs he was on were causing him to hallucinate. After all, it was mid-afternoon and, according to the MCU, Batman-sightings generally occurred between the hours of ten o'clock PM and four o'clock AM.
"Well, I suppose that depends on which side you're on."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Murph asked me finally looking in my direction.
"Didn't mean you you, Murph. I meant you in general."
"Well, I ain't no bogus cop."
"I didn't say you were. Jeez, does everyone think I'm part of my father's inquisition? I'm just saying that the Bat hasn't assaulted any old ladies coming home from the grocery store."
"I suppose so. But I don't trust nothing that crashes through windows and flies."
I chuckled, "Fair enough—but I seriously doubt that he's the spirit of vengeance that the tabloids make him out to be."
"I personally ain't trying to find out. Apparently, two guys from the MCU had a fairly recent run-in with the Bat. One of them has since been medically retired."
"I heard about that. You'd think all the other corrupt cops would learn."
"You'd think. Anyway, I'm not sure why they ain't just tackled him and put him in cuffs."
"Who? The Bat?"
"Well sure. But I was referring to this guy," Murph said pointing at the man causing the commotion.
"Because this is Gotham, Murph. The criminals and the crazies are the only people who get any sort of leniency."
"Ain't that the truth? Alright, I've had enough of this circus act. I'm heading back to the office."
"Right behind you. I still have a million-and-one packets to review."
"You wouldn't have that many if you didn't spend so much time researching articles about the Bat."
"Are you stalking me now, Murph?"
"Maybe. But it ain't hard to notice. Every time I walk by your desk you have some article up on the internet about it. And," he put a finger in the air, "when you were in the coffee shop like two days ago you, you were reading Jack Ryder's latest article about it."
"You really are stalking me."
"I'm a cyber-guy, Gordon. It's my job to stalk people."
"You do know that I'm an expert marksman, right?"
"Sure—once a Marine, always a Marine as my old man would say to me constantly. But I was just thinking that maybe the Bat ain't the kind of guy you want to be looking to marry."
"What? A girl can't be attracted to a guy who gets to go tricking-or-treating three hundred sixty five days out of the year?"
"I mean if that's what you're into…"
"Nobody hated-on Mina Harker for having the hots for Dracula."
"Except Jonothan Harker. He definitely had some heartburn over it. As a side note: Mina didn't have the hots for Dracula. She was manipulated and controlled. At least, that's what you get from the book rather than the movie."
I raised a brow. Wow, I didn't realize Murph was such a nerd. "Touché," I conceded. "Alright, I have to knock out at least half of this before I leave today or I'll be working this weekend."
"More work, less Bat, Gordon. More work, less Bat."
"Noted."