CHAPTER FOUR
Cassandra followed Jimmy across Midtown and to an alleyway between a Chinese restaurant and a barber shop. The streets were quieting as the city was plunged into dusk. She considered briefly the consequences of returning to the group home at such an hour, but quickly put the thought behind her on deciding it was already too late.
She watched Jimmy from a distance, confused, as he struggled to lift a manhole cover up before disappearing down into the sewers.
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When Jimmy climbed down the shaky ladders he saw Barsad standing with his usual gun in his hands, waiting for him. Jimmy stared at the gun longer than a beat, and Barsad smirked.
"Just in time. Let's go." and he turned and began walking toward the darkness. Jimmy followed after him, passing two armed soldiers who were on patrol at that manhole.
Soon they were in an all too familiar section of the sewers; Bane's lair.
Bane stood over his desk, one hand laying flat on it for support while he scrutinised and marked points on what seemed to be a map, ignoring Jimmy's presence completely.
When he saw Barsad leaving, Jimmy stared at his departing back with wide, unbelieving eyes and wanted to call out to him. Don't leave me here alone with this guy...!
It was then that Jimmy noticed he was standing almost on the exact spot as Kevin was when his throat was crushed. He side stepped out of it to the right.
With the few awkward moments Jimmy had standing alone, he glanced around at Bane's living quarters, looking at what possessions this man decided to carry with him. The place was bare except for a few strange, exotic-looking objects –
"You have something for me?" Bane broke his observations, stealing his attention. He was now facing Jimmy with his hand outstretched expectantly.
Jimmy looked at him confused, then remembering, found the white envelope folded in the waistband of his worn trousers, concealed by his shirt. He handed it to Bane, who then slowly paced the small area, unfolding the envelope and glancing inside. With little interest, he tossed the thing onto the bed in the corner, then returned to Jimmy.
Bane regarded the boy closely. His fear of him was obvious; his fear of him was a given. But this orphan was different from the others, he could tell, and because of this Bane didn't trust him, though he wanted to see what the boy would do with himself, so he would allow him to live. For now.
With a crinkle in his eyes, he said to Jimmy "Good work. You may prove useful after all."
The encouraging words from the man should have made Jimmy feel more confident, and maybe even proud, but he couldn't help questioning the sincerity of the man's statement. It didn't feel like a compliment. Before Jimmy could begin to think of a response, they were interrupted.
"Get the fuck off of me!"
Jimmy recognised that terse, feminine voice and cringed inwardly, becoming frozen on the spot. He looked to Bane, who watched the newcomers over Jimmy's shoulder. He heard further sounds of struggling, then his assumption was proven when the girl, Cassandra he remembered, was thrown to the ground in front of Bane.
Two mercenaries had Cassandra by an arm each and were pulling her into an enclosed area, while she pushed backwards with her feet, trying to slip from their hold. Her efforts were wasted and she was no match for two of them; they threw her forward and she landed flat on her front. She expected them to attack her again, but nothing of the like occurred
Cassandra took a second to calm her breathing and assimilate.
Water. She could hear a large torrent of water somewhere to her left. There was another sound, an eerie, mechanical, hissing sound, coming from directly above her.
Slowly she raised her head from where it rested on her forearm. A pair of large, brown military boots dominated her view. She followed them up, passed thick legs dressed in grey combat trousers with large knee pads. The man's height continued, but Cassandra's angle from the floor stopped her seeing any further. She clumsily stood.
"We found her creeping around section eleven. I don't know what she's seen or knows, so we brought her to you."
Cassandra surveyed the new surroundings, spotting Jimmy. She gave him a small, questioning look, as if to say "What the hell is going on down here?". With an intense look in his eyes, Jimmy stiffly, and barely noticeably, shook his head 'no', thinking "Don't tell them you know me", then he studiously ignored her.
Bane saw the micro-exchange between the young pair before him while he half-listened to the mindless thug explain his actions. He regarded the girl, her dishevelled appearance after the skirmish, deciding what to do with her and her associate.
The man had stopped talking and everyone fell into silence, waiting for Bane to respond.
"What can we do for you, girl?" He finally addressed Cassandra.
Cassandra didn't know what to say, didn't know where to start.
At one level exposing Jimmy's lies gave her a great sense of achievement and success; she bubbled with victory. On another level, she was completely and absolutely terrified by what she subsequently discovered; what seemed to be an army of heavily armed men living and working within the labyrinth of sewers beneath Gotham, lead by a mammoth man with a strange spider-like mask attached to most of his head. And yet on another level, she was overcome with curiosity.
"I am here to file a complaint." She said with confidence.
Jimmy couldn't believe she had just said that. He mentally face-palmed. Could she be that dense? He thought.
No one spoke for too long a time, and Jimmy prepared himself for the sound of another human body falling heavily to the concrete ground, lifeless.
"Leave us." Bane addressed the recruited Gothamite thugs, and immediately they did. When Bane slowly turned his head to Jimmy with a deadpan look, he realised Bane meant him too. He looked between the two, once, then retreated slowly.
Once they were completely alone, Cassandra was the first to speak.
"Who are you?"
Bane regarded her as he stepped backwards a few paces, one eyebrow cocked at the girl's brazenness. He found her manner annoying and unacceptable, but decided to play along for the time being, to lull her into comfort.
"It doesn't matter who we are," he said with a smile in his voice as he began to walk around her in a wide circle. "What matters is how we are to deal with you."
Cassandra slowly turned, following him as he leisurely circled her. "Well, what are your options?" she asked.
"Killing you," he said nonchalantly, and she stopped.
"And the other options?" she asked. He kept walking around her, out of her field of view. His feet made no sound against the ground. The only evidence he was still there was the omnipresent hissing of his mask. Taking his silence as reply, "That's no choice!" she said, becoming agitated. Who did this man think he was?
"Ah, but you misunderstood my intentions. The choice wasn't 'what', but 'how'. How am I going to kill you?" He came back into her sight, then he was gone again, this time the hissing of the mask gone too.
"How about death by old age?" she joked nervously, but meant it very seriously. Bane was growing tired of her now.
Pulled back into a hard chest, Cassandra gasped as a large forearm was suddenly pressing into her neck just hard enough to cause discomfort when she gulped.
"Do you think I am joking, little girl?" he hissed menacingly, the cold front of the mask digging into the side of her head. Cassandra was statue still, breathing quick as panic overtook her. Then he was gone again. The swiftness of the action made her fall back onto her bottom, where she remained, rubbing her hand on her neck as he stepped in front of her.
"What possessed such a young lady to venture into my sewers?" He asked her, watching for the lie.
Cassandra stared up at the man looming over her. He made her feel small and intimidated. No matter how she tried to make light of the situation through humour, his talk of killing her – as ridiculous as it was – and his sudden contact with her, frightened her. She looked away from him, at the ground, as she felt heavy tears behind her eyes. Cassandra had not cried in more than ten years, and it made her angry and embarrassed to do so now.
"I was just curious" She said simply, looking back up at him, but being sure to hold back any tears or sniffles.
"And you've never heard the story of the cat?" he asked rhetorically, then told her; "Get up."
Rising, she asked him "So what is going to happen?".
"I told you; I'm going to kill you. You know far too much than I can allow, and serve no purpose here."
Cassandra quickly backed away from him until she bumped into the desk near the bed – she didn't know he was serious before, about killing her.
"Y-you can't!" she yelled at him, the seriousness of her situation hitting her like a wall.
He walked up to her frozen body, and placed his hands on the desk behind her, trapping her there.
"You've been quite entertaining this evening, and I'm feeling charitable; I'll let you choose how I end your life."
He surrounded her completely, using his bear-like build to intimidate her. She could only lean back so far.
Her wide, watery blue eyes looked up into his expressionless, deep brown – almost black – eyes, searching for any hint of humour or soul.
"How can I - " she whispered, interrupted by a hitch in her breath. He turned his head slightly to hear what she was saying. "I can do something – anything! You don't need to kill me!"
"You'd work for me, would you?" he asked with a smile in his voice and a crinkle in the corner of his eyes,, laughing at her.
Unsure, she looked away, but conceded with a single, small nod. He pulled away from her then and began slowly pacing, considering the proposal. Cassandra exhaled the breathe she didn't know she was holding and stepped away from the littered desk, to avoid being stuck like that again.
The sabotage of the nine local construction sites worked well in Daggett's favour, proven by the envelope of worthless money he'd received. Now he'd have to wait three weeks before the next step of Talia's plan was put into action. He glanced at the girl standing tensely in the middle of the room. She was like a puppy; excitable and energetic, but easily shaken. She also proved herself to be impulsive and a liar.
"What are you doing down here anyway?" she asked, seeming to have gained some confidence in his distance from her.
"Preparing for Gotham's liberation." he stated proudly, as he stood facing her, slowly outstretched his arms for emphasis.
"Liberation? From what?"
"For too long this great city's people, you, have suffered under greedy corporations and corrupt officials. I will prompt the people of Gotham to rise up against those standing on their shoulders, and bring about a revolution."
As Cassandra listened to him, she found herself nodding in agreement. The group home she was raised in and lived for almost her entire life was only able to keep going because of donations from the local people and charities; the government hardly spared them a cent, and after the Dent Act there was a lot more money in the system, but instead of being put to use for public services, the money was used to modernise the City Central, Downtown.
"But you're not from Gotham, are you? You're not even from North America, so why do you care?" she asked, sceptical.
"The Western world and her people are suffering from greed and decadence, at the hands of an elite few. At the centre of this is Gotham. Change Gotham and you can change the world."
"If you care about normal people being manipulated and used by the rich, then why were you going to kill me?" Cassandra shot at him.
"Your death at this movements hands would certainly have been tragic, but necessary. Unfortunately the lives of the many outweigh the lives of the few." he shot back. "And careful, girl, I haven't yet decided your fate." Cassandra flinched slightly.
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"Listen here officer, there was thousands of dollars of jewellery in that safe before I left tonight, I come home and there's only dust. Now I want to know what you and the rest of your double-digit IQ department are doing to fix this!" yelled Erin Adelsberger as John took notes in his small black book, gritting his teeth.
"This isn't an isolated case, Mrs Adelsberger. Over the past seventy two hours there have been numerous occurrences in this area. We've set up a task force to deal with it." Blake said with a trained smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We'll be in touch."
With only a step over the threshold the door was slammed shut behind him, no 'goodbye' or 'thank you', 'good night' or 'good luck'.
On the drive back to the station with his report, John found himself searching the streets for even the smallest crime.
John joined the police force because he was inspired by the Batman, wanted to be like the Batman, but he knew he couldn't dress up and go out at night fighting. This was his way of giving back to his city, and saving kids from going through what he had to.
But Gotham was almost crime-free these days, and while he should have happy with that, he wasn't. He was bored and felt useless. Being treated like dirt by citizens and his superiors wasn't helping either.
"So what do we know about our thief?" Foley said, standing in front of a room of younger police officers; 'the special task force', when John hurried in.
"Sorry I'm late - " he began.
"Can we help you, officer?" Foley asked, standing akimbo. Everyone looked to John as he paused in the doorway, Ross was in the back concealing his laughter.
"I'm apart of this task force, sir" John explained.
"Then why are you late?" he asked, like a teacher would ask a young child.
Peter Foley was an arrogant man who wasted no opportunity to exert his position as Deputy Commissioner to talk down to others on the force. He didn't know John Blake, couldn't point him out in a line-up, but every time he saw Blake he knew he didn't like him. This put John in a position where he was constantly being patronised and humiliated by Foley – or at least Foley would try, just like he was now.
"There's been another robbery; a couple of grand worth of Jewels from a heavy safe. It's probably our guy." John turned to face the rest of the fifteen or so officers in the room while reporting.
"Uh huh, alright, take a seat officer." Foley dismissed, and John did, after muttering a 'yes sir'. When he took his seat next to Ross, they both glanced at each other with knowing looks.
"One of the victims, a mister Bogardus, says he saw a person dressed all in black leaving his home. He didn't get a look at the person, but thinks it was a woman." one officer spoke up, breaking the brief awkward silence.
"I got the same report from another victim, yesterday. Tall, brunet, white woman dressed all in black." another pitched in.
"So we've got a cat-burglar woman on our hands." Foley summarised. "Is that all we know? What about security camera footage? Finger prints? DNA?"
The room gave no response.
With an exaggerated sigh, Foley said "Okay, then this meeting is over. Keep your ears to the ground folks, and find this woman quickly. The last thing I need is a bunch of rich people climbing down my throat." he adjourned, and everyone began shuffling and talking to one another.
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"What is your name?" Bane asked her.
After a contemplative pause, she answered "Cassandra. Cassandra Brown."
"And tell me, Miss Brown, can you do as your told?" he asked her.
"What do you mean?"
"It's quite simple. I can kill you now, or you can agree to work for me, giving yourself to this cause completely. However I will not tolerate insubordination of any degree, and I don't allow second chances. You accept, do as your told, and I allow you to live."
"Yes." she said immediately afterwards. If it meant her survival, of course she would.
Bane nodded, satisfied with her response, then a man entered. He looked to Cassandra fleetingly before focusing on the masked man.
"Sir, we've found a suitable candidate for the next job" the man told Bane cryptically, wary of the girl.
"Excellent. Relay the details to Daggett tomorrow. In the meantime," Bane gestured with his hand for Cassandra to approach them. When she slowly did, did placed a large hand heavily on her shoulder. "Find a place to store Miss Brown until further notice." Cassandra had to stop herself from wriggling away from him, but she felt immense relief.
"Yes, sir." the man said, then looked to Miss Brown, "Let's go." he told her, and they were both quickly walking away from the small space, finally after what seemed like hours.
"What's your name?" Cassandra asked the man. He had blue eyes, a slight beard and was carrying a gun, although the way he interacted with the masked man told her he wasn't an ordinary soldier. He glanced down at her suspiciously, deciding whether to tell her. In the end up, he just stayed silent.
"It's okay to tell me, I'm on your side now. And it's Cassandra, not Miss Brown"
Again, he glanced at her briefly, with an eyebrow cocked, then smirked.
"On our side, eh? Listen here, kid. You're not 'on our side', you're working for Bane. And that is only for now." he stopped then, in front of a door, and unlocked it. "As a word of advice, leave that friendly stuff back wherever you came from. It won't do any good for you here."
Cassandra stopped and stared up at him as he was saying this, not knowing how to respond.
"In there, Miss Brown" he motioned with his hand into the small room, the door to which he had just unlocked, and stood with one hand on the door waiting for her to move.
"Wait, you can't lock me in that room!" she began to protest, feeling anxious again. She couldn't let them lock her in a tiny, windowless room to starve to death. But the nameless man pushed her in with a shove to her shoulder, then closed over the door. Before it was completely closed, he told her through the gap, "Bane didn't tell me what to do with you, so you'll stay in here tonight. Get some rest, he'll figure something out tomorrow." then he closed the door, and Cassandra heard the lock slide into place.
She stood dumbly staring at the door for a few moments before she found a corner and slide down the wall until she was sitting in a ball.
In the dim light of the room, she listened to a loud dripping of water, coming from where she couldn't tell, and her mind began to wander to Sister Elizabeth. How long would she have stood with that bucket in her hands, waiting, before she realised I wouldn't be there?
These sewers, the men with guns, and the man with the mask – her new boss – it all frightened her. She wanted to be asleep in the cold dorm room with the few loud snoring girls, on her bumpy mattress, looking out the window at the moon while waiting for the door to creep open and Sister Elizabeth to check they were all in bed. She didn't want to be curled up in a locked, freezing, concrete room beneath Gotham city, afraid of what tomorrow would bring.
Before she knew it, Cassandra was in a deep, dreamless sleep, exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by the day's stressful turn of events.
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At last, Cassandra and Bane meet. Being faced with death, you probably see what a person is really like, so it was difficult to write their meeting because it meant I had to solidify Cassandra's character (or at least how she is at the moment: I intend for her to grow and become more mature and responsible as events occur.) I've begun to introduce Catwoman to the scene too, so she'll be making an appearance soon.
Thank you, everyone who is reading this, I am glad you're enjoying it. Let me know what you think of this chapter, and of Bane and Cassandra!
ElleDesperado
