Chapter 4:
Descent Over Gotham
It concealed him, at least only for a moment, as the search lights passed over him for the second time. Inside the vacant walls of Gotham's abandoned cathedral, Batman sat in silence, seeking shelter against its bristly and broken façade. It provided no refuge from the onslaught of bullets as they pierced the stained glass windows, leaving pieces of the once complete angel across the smudged floor. He knew it wouldn't be long until the pillars gave out. It wasn't the best place for relief but it was his only option. He couldn't risk returning to the cave until the officers lost his trail. Gordon's men were getting wiser. This was the first time they managed to catch him unaware and off-guard, a rarity for anyone. His focus had diminished through the night, and he was forcing himself to say alert. If he managed to survive a few more years, his current flaws would diminish. Lessons were learned through time. He had no choice but to live day by day, and plan his strikes accordingly. One mistake could mean the difference between life and death, a line he dared not cross, not so early on in his career.
After moments of endless gunfire, the firing ceased. In a distant, shattered window, Lieutenant Ferguson and five of her officers entered the church. They held their guns firmly ahead and walked cautiously around the sanctuary, all searching different areas. Ferguson brushed through the first row of empty pews. Batman knelt and crept along the aisle in between the pews and the leftward wall, passing each of the three pillars to his right. An officer entered his gaze, who stopped to look at Ferguson. Batman merged with the shadows and remained motionless.
"Briggs, Thompson, spread out. He couldn't have gone far" Ferguson ordered, unenthused. It seemed like she was always given the "cat and mouse" assignments, much to her displeasure. The Batman had evaded all of their efforts in the past and this latest attempt would end the same way. The Batman had brains, that much was clear in her mind. No ordinary man could outrun and outsmart the GCPD on several different occasions. Somehow, the Batman managed to do it. She knew she was fighting a losing game, but it was a price she had to pay to keep Gordon happy, even if they came back to the station empty handed. Ferguson was the only one who really connected with Gordon on a personal level. She really understood him. His passion for the law and his sworn dedication to keep it intact are what made him a respectable man. He was the reason she joined the force. After her father was murdered after forty years of duty, she thought it was her turn to step in and fill his shoes. After Gotham's former Commissioner, Gillian Loeb, resigned, Gordon's transition to the role made it easier for her to fit in, as she wasn't the only new member of the force. Gordon stood by her every step of the way, from training, and promotion. He was like a surrogate father, and a damn good one.
Her men did as they were commanded and searched the grounds. To them, the cathedral seemed the most unlikely place a ruthless vigilante would find solace in, but life was full of strange surprises. This was the only mission where they criticized Gordon's choice in who should call the shots. Lieutenant Ferguson was widely disliked throughout the force for being self-righteous, arrogant, and genuinely unpleasant. She scolded just about everyone for simple mistakes and criticized anyone who didn't meet her perfect standards. Still, they had no choice but to follow her orders.
Briggs and Thompson swept the area, carefully examining any abnormalities that the cathedral might contain. The entire building was covered in dust, a tool that was useful in tracking any man. In this case, irrelevant, the Batman wouldn't be that thoughtless. For a church of God, it was a haunting sight. Seasoned and withered, it was a wonder why the walls were still erect. To the people, it was a landmark and a lost symbol for a dead hope. With it still standing, there was a slight chance hope could one day return. Those days had since been a distant reality and the city had stopped coming to search for a new savior.
"We're never going to find him like this. There's six of us and only one of him. If we spread out we have a better chance of catching that sonofabitch" Briggs demanded.
"Hey, I'm just following the bitch's order. You got a problem, you take it up with her" Thompson replied.
"Like Hell. She hasn't given me shit all day, and that's not going to start now."
"We've been after the Bat for months now. You'd think Ferguson would grow tired of this wild goose chase."
"You'd think." Briggs examined the area before he continued speaking. There was a narrow passageway ten feet ahead of him and a large statue of Jesus to it's right. Briggs nodded his head in the direction. "Why don't you check that way, and I'll keep looking around here."
Thompson acknowledged. He left Briggs to his duty and headed to the back of the cathedral. A hall stood before him. It angled to the left and held three rooms, one on one side, and two on the other. He approached the rooms and entered the one to his right. It was aged like the rest of the church. From what he could tell, the room used to be an office. He flashed his light around, but nothing stood out to him. He moved in to the next room, nothing was different. There was no door in the third room. A few children toys lay in the far right corner. Playbooks were stacked in rotted shelves, their pages almost ash. Briggs left the room and went down the splintered stairs to the basement. Every step created a light crack in the board. The darkness was more noticeable, as was the level of dust. Covering his mouth, he grabbed the railing and stepped on the concrete floor. He flipped a light switch on the wall to the right of him, an action that produced nothing. Sweat formed over his forehead and dribbled down his face. With his free hand, he held his flashlight ahead of him and followed the light that led him through the emptiness. He was surprised at the length of the basement. It was a few hundred feet. There were no additional rooms to be seen, no objects of any kind to be named, save for the couple of rats running through a hole in the wall out of fright. The light dimmed the farther he got into the basement. Total darkness. He beat the end of the handle with his hand and shook it violently. The light came back on, only to go off a second later. "Shit."
Thompson hated the dark. Nothing made him more nervous. Fear of the unknown weighted more in his paranoia than darkness. Adding the possibility of the Batman lurking in its shadows raised his anxiety. His heart pounded in his ribcage, pulsing faster with every second. Sweat stung his eyes. His whole body shook. His only defense was worthless. A bullet would prove ineffective when fired in his current ominous environment. After repeated poundings, his flashlight sprang to life. The Batman stood before him. He drew his gun but had no time to respond. Batman seized his arm and tightened his grip, releasing Brigg's hold on the gun. Batman's elbow met his stomach. He clenched his neck and positioned one foot behind him, forcing him to the floor. A firm strike to Thompson's cheek finished the assault. Batman glanced down at the radio that had fallen from Thompson's belt. He narrowed his eyes and threw his foot on the radio, destroying it.
Batman stood, undefied over the fallen officer, sweat-less. There were more of Gordon's men on the floor above him, undisturbed, and still hunting. Thompson was handled with ease but the others might not be so effortless. They wouldn't be so easy to catch off guard, which made it all the more demanding. It was foolish to take on all officers at once without a distraction. He pulled a thin, black remote from his belt and pressed it's center button to turn on a light. It's red glow flashed continuously. With his free hand he held Thompson by his right leg and dragged him through the dark abyss. He was careful not to injure his body as he crept up the stairs.
Lieutenant Ferguson and her squad greeted the Batman as he emerged from the dismal corridor. There were six officers, to his count, including Ferguson. Without moving he carefully studying their movements, taking into account the outside officers as well. Any moment they could open fire, so he had to make his move. His timing had to be precise. If he was just a second off it was over. His leverage wouldn't hold forever, so he had to make this count. The light on his remote turned a solid blue. Batman pressed the button, and waited.
"Stay where you are Batman! This is your last chance. Come with us peacefully, or we'll be forced to take you in the hard way" she said, her gun fixed on a motionless Batman. The officers were ready to fire. Every few seconds they glanced at Ferguson, expecting an order. "Release Officer Thompson and put your hands over your head." Heavy shrieking lingered in the distance. Ferguson and her officers questioned the noise. It grew louder as it approached them. "What is that?" They looked around the room again. "It sounds like…" Batman threw his device toward them. A swarm of bats burst through the windows and invaded the church. They surrounded the officers, buying Batman time to escape. "All units open fire!"
Batman lept through the window. A bullet cut Batman's left shoulder as another grazed his right leg. He groaned and staggered along the edge of the building. Another bullet ripped his cape, just passing his left ankle. Ferguson stood. A bat brushed her face. She helped the others to their feet, the bats continuing to flood them. She spoke into her radio.
"Commissioner, we have him! He's heading east on 14th Street!"
"Move in around Garrison Street and cut him off from the buildings opposite. This is now a citywide manhunt. All units are granted permission to shoot-to-kill if necessary. If the Batman resists, take him out" Gordon said.
"Understood." Ferguson turned to her squad and spoke. "Alright, listen up. Commissioner Gordon wants us to use brute force if the Batman becomes too much of a problem. If that happens, we kill him. Is that clear?"
"Yes Lieutenant" an officer responded.
"Good. Now let's go."
Batman rested alongside a nearby building, his left hand sheltering the wound on his shoulder. He forced a deep breath, attempting to calm himself and looked to his left. Police sirens were fast approaching. Reaching to his side, he tore a large piece from his cape and tied it around his leg. He tore another piece and wrapped it over his shoulder. A bullet dented the wall beside him. Batman evaded the gunfire, disregarding the officer's order to remain motionless. Another bullet pierced the side of the building seconds after Batman disappeared behind the wall onto a new city block. He cut across on River Street and pulled a grappling device that was attached to his belt, aligning it with the top of the building ahead of him that stood across from open waters. He pulled the trigger and a long wire with an attached hook at the front shot from its barrel. It reached the roof within seconds. Prongs extended from the hook and grabbed the edge of the roof, holding the wire in place. Batman clipped the grapple gun to his belt and pressed the trigger again, allowing him to ascend to the top of the building. He grabbed the side of the ledge and climbed over it to and laid on the surface.
"He's retreating to the rooftops" the officer proclaimed.
"Don't just stand there Briggs, move your ass!" Ferguson ordered as she ran past him, leading a squad of ten officers behind her. She approached the building's staircase and kicked the door open. "Let's take him down boys." Her officers brushed past her and she followed once the last man was in. Several flights stood between them and the rooftop. Ferguson only hoped that they were fast enough. The Batman had gotten lucky, and up to this point it worked in his favor. But as with any man, his luck could run out. She and her squad burst through the rooftop door. Frantic footsteps spilled through as the officers breached, flooding its vicinity and targeting the Batman. "There's no where left to run Batman. It's over."
Batman stood over the edge, on the brink of being enslaved by gravity. He was surrounded. The wind began to increase heavily and the gusts were more forceful. Batman turned. A police helicopter appeared from beneath the roof. Its searchlight blinded him. "You're out of warnings Batman" an officer spoke over the speaker. "Open fire!" Bullets riddled the top of the building, forcing Batman toward the opposite side of the roof. A missile was released as he neared the edge. It blew into a sweltering blaze on collision, throwing Batman down into the swelling waters.
Ferguson boarded the helicopter barely hovering over the roof, ordering the pilot the search the vast waters of the Gotham River. Hovering over the open waters and scanning its calmness, the light was concentrated directly beneath them. After a few seconds, the light shifted ahead of them and faced the piers. Wooded and aged, and washed with moss, they stood five feet off the waters and stretched a quarter of a mile from the land. Once over them, Ferguson stepped down from the helicopter and walked along the planks. Two officers followed her as lights searched for signs of movement. Ferguson reached the end of the pier, her eyes gazing the miles of water. The wind cooled her face, comforting her, lifting her hair through its gust. She stared into the deep blue and lost herself in its mystery, vastness captivating her. Gazing through the waters, Gotham seemed smaller, less important, calming her with the chilling touch of the waves cracking against the pier. The clouds overhead grew dim. A storm was coming. She scanned her surroundings while the rain disrupted the previously calm waters. She looked left, then right as she went down the pier, carefully examining every possible area of shelter it could contain. Reaching the helicopter, she stopped, and stared ahead. The pilot ushered her as the liquid bullets fell from the sky. She looked behind one more time. A shadow passed under the waters. Abruptly she turned and removed her gun from her side to fire at the disturbed waters. Officer Briggs ran to her side and grabbed her wrists, diverting the bullets from the waters and ceasing her fire. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ferguson demanded.
"You need to take a deep breath and relax" Briggs said once Ferguson lowered her gun.
"I almost had him. Christ" she signed. Her breaths were uneven and spaced, slightly withered from stress's heavy pressure.
"You're not thinking straight. You haven't slept in days. What you saw was probably just a fish swim under some seaweed. That's all."
Ferguson buried her head in her hands. The never-ending work load was overwhelming. She ate, slept, and bled the Batman. It was a dark decent and one she thought she was ready for. The further she remained on the case the further she sunk in the abyss. Her surroundings were a pale reflection of the woman she'd become; void, and filled with generic imperfection. The open sea stared at her unrelentingly, watching her drown in her regret as the string of life's disappointments consumed her. In her eyes, catching the Batman meant more to her than the opinions of others. She longed for acceptance, a motive to keep her going in her otherwise dying world, something to finally make her proud.
"It's been a long night Lieutenant. You need rest. We'll catch him another time. He's long gone by now."
Without saying a word, she carried herself until she sat inside the helicopter's uncomforting embrace. As they pulled away there was a shift in the water under the pier. Bloody and torn, Batman emerged from the underneath, just as the helicopter returned to Gotham. Batman removed the small breathing apparatus that covered his mouth, climbed to the top of the pier, and laid on his back, water dripping from his mouth as he gasped for relief. He reached for the ear of his cowl and pressed firmly against its side with his slim and tender fingertip, sending a call to his one true ally, Alfred Pennyworth. Alfred had been Bruce's loyal and trusting butler ever since he was a small boy, and has remained at his side ever since. But over the years, he has become like a surrogate father. Alfred was the sole person he could entrust everything, including his secret life as Batman. Over the years he has given Bruce advice ranging from relationship advice to personal morals. He has supported his life as Batman without any doubts, although he stated on many occasions that he fears for his safety. "Can I help you Sir?" Alfred asked promptly.
"I need you to send me the schematics for the Black Mask's mansion. I'll need to get in without getting caught." His voice was weak, and raspy.
"Sir, you don't sound well. Your suit is showing major signs of trauma and stress. I suggest that you return immediately for proper medical attention and bed rest."
"I'll be fine" he said, rising from the wooden panels beneath him.
"You realize you could die if you're not attended to soon."
"It won't take long. I just need a way in."
"I cannot do that Sir. I won't jeopardize your health. You need to come back now."
"Don't do this Alfred."
"You need to think this through. You're letting your stubbornness get in the way."
He knew Alfred was right. His defiance was rare. He was the only one he ever trusted, the only one in his life worth a damn. With Alfred, he didn't have to share his grief alone. He always had someone to go back to and find solace in, even if it meant being reminded even he could be wrong. "Let's just get this over with."
