Conner went to assure Barbara her cousin was fine but stopped when he heard the sound of a high-powered assault rifle being fired. Instincts came alive and he hooked an arm around her waist, pulling the startled redhead out of the path of danger. Seconds later a slug slammed into the glass orb that crowned the lamp post they'd been standing under, splintering it into a billion different pieces that sounded like hail as they rained down to the ground.
"Conner?" Barbara managed to gasp once the shock wore off. "What is it? What's happening?"
"Sniper!" He gritted. "Stay down!"
The quad became pandemonium: shouts, screams, the people who'd been moving along to reach whatever destination they'd been heading now becoming a mindless mob, desperately afraid, horribly traumatized, running aimlessly, seeking any kind of safety before hell might again get visited upon them. A campus policeman who'd just happened to be driving by had the presence of mind to use his loudspeaker to try and restore order, to no avail. Conner kept his body curved around Barbara's while searching the rooftops of the closest buildings for a sign of the shooter.
...
On the rooftop, Mictlan saw through the Schmidt & Bender telescopic scope how the second round she discharged found purchase in a tree rather than the creamy flesh of her second offering. She released a stream of vitriolic curses and went to take aim again, but she couldn't get a clear shot of Gordon. Not with the abomination curled around the petite woman like a protective barrier. No matter, her offering to Mictlantecuhtli could easily be changed.
She swung the rifle back towards her chosen target, but the pandemonium in the quad made getting a clear shot impossible. Then she heard a bark and caught a glimpse of white as a huge dog with a red cape fluttering in the breeze launched itself towards the building upon which she was perched.
It was time to leave.
Mictlan must never be seen by those still walking the world of the living. She must never be caught. Those were the words that Mictlantecuhtli told her before he unleashed her upon the world. And she obeyed Mictlantecuhtli's every rule without question. She quickly stowed her rifle in its special carrying case before going inside and quickly descending the roof access stairs to join the mob gathered in the quad.
...
A car screamed to a stop beside them. Commissioner James "Jim" Gordon leaped from the driver's side before the engine even had a chance to finish sputtering and tore around the vehicle to yank his daughter into a fierce hug. When he stepped back a second later, his eyes were flashing blue fire and his face set in stone.
"Are you all right?" Gordon demanded. "Are you hurt?"
"We're fine, Dad," Barbara replied in a calm and soothing voice. "Conner got me to safety before the shooter could shoot me."
Gordon ran a hand over his face.
"So the reports were true?" He glanced first at Barbara and then him. "Shots were fired?"
"Dad..." Barbara began but more police cars, their sirens bleating, screeched to a halt and ended whatever she was going to say. Detective Harvey Bullock, as well as a dozen other uniformed officers, emerged from the cars, hands near their holsters and bodies at the ready. Soon as Gordon saw his cavalry had arrived, he flipped from Cop Daddy into Police Commissioner.
"Ferguson, I want you to take a handful of men and work on crowd control," he snapped out in a cool, crisp voice.
"You got it, boss," Ferguson signaled for a handful of men to follow him and loped off towards the center of the quad. "On me."
"Harvey, I want you to take Markinson and Smith and do a scan of the Seoul building. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious."
"Right," Bullock said, turning to lope off. "Smith, get your ass over here and!"
"Richards," Gordon barked. "You and Lee take Berkeley Hall. You spot anything out of the ordinary, you radio for help. Nobody needs to be a hero here. You got me?"
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.
Gordon finally back turned to them.
"Now, as for you two..."
...
University Street, especially at this time of the morning, was crowded with students racing to and fro from one of the four buildings that lined the quad. Mictlan lost herself in the sea of screaming people, quickly becoming just another terrified soul searching for cover from the menace who'd just fired two rounds into their midst.
She was deeply vexed over her failure to reap either the bones of the metafreak or Barbara Gordon. The fault for her failure she, of course, laid upon the broad shoulders of the creature who currently stood beside her. She'd not only make him pay for his existence but his interference in her carefully crafted plan. Oh, she'd find a way to kill him.
Even Superman could be killed, after all.
One just had to have the means of accomplishing such a deed. Mictlan's fleshy lips curled as she made her way across the quad. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it from her pocket, knowing who the caller was without glancing at the ID. She slipped into an alcove between two buildings and pressed the answer button.
"I am displeased, Mictlan," she heard Berkeley grit on the other end of the phone. "You promised to kill my niece, Barbara Gordon." There was a pause. "So far you have failed."
"Fue sin querer," she said politely. "It was not an intentional slight, I assure you, Señor Berkeley. The metafreak managed to rescue su sobrina."
"Superboy rescuing my niece does not please me," Berkeley rasped. There was a minute pause. Then he growled, "That metafreak has become a thorn in my side, Mictlan. I desire it to be removed. And soon."
"Mictlan will gladly remove this throne for you, Señor Berkeley. She just needs one particular item in order to accomplish the job. Bul—"
"Made from Kryptonite," he interjected impatiently. "Yes, I am well aware that they are needed in order to deliver your coup de grâce. Trust me." His voice was a dark baritone. "You will have them."
Then there was a click, and the line went dead. Mictlan allowed the rudeness to pass. As long as Señor Berkeley provided her with the bullets she needed in order to give death to the abomination, she'd allow his behavior. She pocketed her phone as she blended into the crowd once more. Instantly, she was swallowed up by the crowd, just another woman in a Gotham University hoodie and sweats with what might have been her art portfolio in her hand.
A/N: Hello, all! Hope the week has been good to you!
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