I don't own Batman. Bob Kane and DC do.
--
The police siren wailed as the car tore through the dark city. Commissioner James Gordon sat in the front seat of the car, a thin sheet of paper clutched between the fingers of his left hand. The handset of the police radio occupied his other hand. He brought it up to his mouth.
"What's our status with the truck?" He asked into the mouthpiece.
"It's not on the outlined route. Two black sedans jumped it and took out the driver," a voice called back.
Gordon shook his head. He looked to the piece of paper in his hand and read something off of it. "We got a heading on it?"
"Not so far, Commissioner. They cut across traffic and we lost them."
"Keep looking. Units 36 and 19, head for 42nd and Girard," Gordon said into the radio. He glanced sidelong at Officer Franks, his driver, who took the hint and pressed harder on the gas pedal.
"Commissioner," Franks half-turned to Gordon, "Do you really think this Nigma guy's gonna do what he said?"
The reference was to the letter in Gordon's hand. It had been delivered to the MCU, though delivered probably wouldn't be the exact term for it. Recently, one of their informants, who'd been keeping tabs on the Joker's former followers, disappeared after delivering news that someone else had been trying to rally support among them. He'd been found on the steps of the MCU two nights ago with a bullet in his brain and a typewritten letter inside his jacket, unmarked except for a large question mark on the front.
The letter itself read as if it were from a bad movie. Every line rhymed and it seemed to give out little hints as to what kind of crime they were planning on committing. At the bottom, it had been signed, handwritten, by an "E. Nigma", obviously, a play on the word "enigma". Fortunately, whoever wrote the letter wasn't very clever, and they'd figured out that this person was planning on trying to take the armored car bringing in the Moon's Tear diamond, a large, unique rock, recently discovered in Africa and soon to go on display in the Gotham Academy for the Arts.
Now, the threat wouldn't have been taken seriously, but for the fact that a similar letter had appeared a week earlier, packaged identically to this one. While it had been unsigned, the letter was phrased exactly the same, rhymes and all. That one had promised the death of a police officer. Of course, the next day, their informant went missing. While he wasn't an officer, per se, someone who was not part of the police force could easily mistake him for one, as he worked for the police.
Franks jerked the car around the corner. Gordon looked out the window. 42nd street. They flew down, lights flashing and siren blaring, not that it mattered, as not many people down this way drove around at this time of night. Ahead of them, other, similar lights flashed at an intersection. Girard Avenue.
Four cop cars surrounded the entrance to a small building on the corner of 42nd and Girard. Gordon hopped out as soon as their car came to a halt, jogging over to a crouched Det. Gerard Stephens, the man now in charge of the MCU. After Wuertz's death and Ramirez's resignation, he was given the title by default.
"What's the situation, detective?"
Stephens looked up. "This is the building from the letter Jim, but our guys in the building say they didn't see the van."
"Hmm," Gordon scratched his head, "Maybe we put too much stock in those letters."
"Calling all units," A gravelly voice called from the police radio, "We're now in high speed pursuit of a black armored van, presumed to be the target. License plate-"
Gordon jumped into the nearest car and pulled the handset from its cradle. "This is Gordon. Where is the van?"
"Commissioner, we're approaching Thirty-Eighth and Girard."
Gordon stood up and looked down the street. They were nearly upon the miniature blockade. A large, black armored car, trailed by three police cars, all barreling at full speed down the tiny road. Less than a block from them.
"Out of the way!" Gordon yelled. Policemen dove out of the way as the armored car busted through the tail ends of two police cruisers. One of its pursuers spun out as it tried to stop itself from colliding with another car. The other two weaved by the wreckage, still flying after the stolen vehicle. Gordon hopped in one of the usable cars with Franks and they sped after them, Stephens right on their tail in the other car.
Gordon grabbed the radio handset again. "Calling all units, black van confirmed to be the target. We're now in pursuit travelling down-"
A black sedan burst out of a side street and clipped one of the cop cars in front of Gordon. The cruiser went into a tailspin, colliding with the other leading car. The two cars now created a miniature blockade on the road. Franks spun the wheel and slammed on the brake, stopping their car with feet to spare. Stephens pulled up next to them.
Gordon leapt from his car, looking down the road. The van and sedan were gone. He slammed his closed fist on the hood of the car and immediately got back in. "We need to get around. We'll try and cut them off further along. Let's move it!" Franks laid on the gas.
--
The black van pulled into the alley, the sedan right behind it. The two hijackers stepped out of the van and walked over to join the two men at the back of the sedan, looking through the trunk for the tools needed to complete the job. Each man wore a pair of heavy sunglasses.
Leon walked back over to the van, looking at the sealed shut rear door. He grabbed the lock and gave it a yank. Solid, strong. "Hey, Rick, these things gonna work?"
Out of the trunk came four large and powerful blowtorches. Rick handed one to Leon. "Two men on each side, enough heat to cut through toughest metal they got." Leon flicked his blowtorch on, waving his hand outside the reach of the flame. They were definitely hot.
"Let's do this. The boss'll be here soon." The other three torches came on and the men got to work.
"What was he thinking, giving away the location of our meeting place," Rick glanced at Leon while chewing away with his torch. They appeared to be working. "Now we're behind schedule."
"Well," Leon shrugged, "If this diamond is worth as much as they say it is, then it won't matter."
"How much is it worth again?"
"More than you'll ever know," The voice came from behind them. All four stopped and turned. Another car had pulled up, a brand new green sedan, still shining. Next to it, a man in a green suit and hat stood hunched over a cane, his face in shadow. Atop the cane was a question mark. "And nothing without my contact."
"Excuse me, Mr. Nigma," Rick stammered, "Didn't hear you pull up."
"Just keep working," Rick, Leon and the others turned back to the car, "We don't have a lot of time." Nigma walked over to look out of the alley.
"Hello, Mr. Nigma."
A right hook dropped him before he could respond. The four at work on the back of the van knew the voice immediately and dropped their torches, trading them for pistols. Nigma was on the ground, no one around him. Rick said what everyone was thinking. "Where's the Batman?"
"Behind you." He was disarmed and knocked out in less than instant. The Batman pulled the pistol out of Leon's hand and clubbed one of the other men with it, sending him down. He threw the fourth man against the car and gave him a forearm across the face. Leon received a knee to the stomach and was thrown into the windshield of the black sedan before darkness took over.
Bruce walked over to the armored car, crouching down to look at one of the tires. A small, metal disk, almost the same color as the rim of the wheel, was plucked off by Bruce. A homing device. He placed it inside of one the pouches on his belt, then proceeded to walk back over to his main target.
--
The man who claimed to be E. Nigma began to stir. Bruce shook him violently to speed the process. In seeing the fearsome figure before him, Nigma's first reaction was to run. Unfortunately, he was tied up at the moment, not to mention hanging about thirty feet above the ground, attached to a fire escape. Bruce grabbed him roughly by the collar of his green suit jacket. He recognized this man, the bank manager who was shot by the Joker during the big robbery before his murder spree. This guy couldn't be the new mob head.
"Are you E. Nigma?"
Nigma shook his head, "No. I'm just a guy in a green suit."
A miniature tape recorder came out of a pouch on Bruce's belt. He pressed a button. Rick's voice played. "Hello Mr. Nigma. Didn't hear you pull up." Nigma's voice came up, "Just keep working."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Maybe. But your handwriting will," Bruce put the recorder away and pulled Nigma closer. "Who are you working for?"
Nigma shook his head. "No one. I'm independent."
Bruce gave him a violent shake. "Did the Joker set this up?"
"That guy?" Nigma looked repulsed, "If you think I did you're dumber than even I thought?"
A quick jab across his face shut him up. "I know you were part of Maroni's mob. You ran his bank. Who's in charge now?"
"No one. The Joker killed them all."
"Stop lying!" Bruce slammed Nigma into the wall, "Who's in charge!"
"I am!" Nigma spit out some blood, "Those idiots will follow anyone who can kill someone and wear a stupid costume. They're all just looking for a new Joker."
"There won't be another Joker," Bruce let go of Nigma, "You'll be joining him in Arkham soon, Mr. Nigma."
"Nigma isn't my name. At least give me the dignity of being arrested under my-"
Bruce flung him against the wall to shut his mouth. The man who wasn't E. Nigma now rocked back and forth from his own weight. Stepping off the fire escape, Bruce fell to the ground. The four other criminals were now propped up against the armored car, hands tied behind their backs. Bruce walked over to the Batpod and threw his leg over it. As the engine roared to life, he pressed his hand to his ear, activating the built in cell phone. "Gordon," he queued up the call to the Commissioner. He picked up after one ring, knowing exactly who was calling him.
"Fifty-third and Lakewood," Bruce hung up. Gordon could collect the trash and question them. The Batpod engine whined beneath him and Bruce kicked it into gear. He took off into the night.
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Hopefully a little better I guess. A little less action and a little more character are my plans for upcoming chapters.
