Chapter 4.

PARADISE CASINO,
GOTHAM CITY,
(JUNE 27, 2001)

To say that Ruper Thorne was startled by the two ninja-like figures, who came crashing into his office, would have been a masterpiece of understatement. It was only when one of them (addressed as "Firebug") was instructed to head for the vault that he finally snapped out of it. Drawing a snub-nose semi-automatic pistol from his desk's center drawer in the process.

"Get away from there, you f. . .!"

His expletive was interrupted by a Superball bouncing off the left side of his forehead. Resulting in his staggering against the wall behind him and sliding slowly to the floor!

"Thanks, Deadshot!"

"Thank me by blowing that sucker open."

Firebug nodded. Whereupon, he knelt and removed a knapsack from his back. He then removed four saucer-shaped limpet mines. One for each corner of a certain wooden panel on the wall. He and Deadshot then crouched down behind Thorne's desk. Each of them flanking the rather paunchy crime kingpin. When Firebug pointed a small remote control behind him,. . .

. . .all four mines exploded, simultaneously. The thermite charge within each burning through the wooden panel, as well as the titanium steel door behind it!

The vault door fell to the floor with a "bang" that the Persian carpeting only partially muffled. But, neither Deadshot nor Firebug paid any attention to it. They merely jumped over the metallic slab and into the enclosed room beyond. Filling the large burlap bag (withdrawn from Deadshot's knapsack) with as much of the on-hand dirty money as it could hold. At the same time, in the security control room, "Ian Mueller" radioed his real employer one final time.

"Falseface to Mad Hatter. Activating fire alarm. Meet you on the roof. Over and out!"

Consequently, a string of klaxons began blaring throughout the building. Most especially, in the casino's main showroom. So, naturally, the waiters and other staff members began escorting the now-frightened customers towards the nearest emergency exits. That is; all but five of them.

Picard, Riker, Wesley, Spock, and the Traveler were headed in the same direction as a large assortment of tuxedo-clad employees who had suddenly become armed with Colt .45 M-1911's! And, when both parties got to the third floor, the first party suddenly dove to the hallway floor to avoid the stream of bullets suddenly hitting all the fluorescent lights above them.

"Deadshot to Mad Hatter. Where the blazes are you?"

"Coming into range, now. I am-."

* * * * *

The rest of the Mad Hatter's transmission was cut off by a blast of static.

"Deadshot to Hatter. Say again?"

The only response was still more static. So, to stall for time, Deadshot fired a second round of bullets over the heads of Thorne's gunmen. While, at the same time, he radioed his accomplice.

"Deadshot to Firebug. Can you get him on your unit?"

"That's a big negatory, good buddy!" replied Robin: "He's fast asleep, right now. Come back!"

* * * * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE PENTAGON
(TWO YEARS EARLIER)

Slade Wilson began the slide show.

"First up? Sergeant Major Adam Fors. U.S. Army Rangers (retired). A Vietnam War veteran who led more lurp team missions, behind enemy lines, than anyone else in the 75th Regiment. Next?"

There was a brief click.

"Corporal Floyd Lawton (USMC). A scout-sniper with distinguished service, in both Grenada and Panama, before going MIA during the Persian Gulf War. Next?"

Another click.

"Petty Officer First Class Garfield Lynns. Another Gulf War veteran, although he served with the U.S. Navy SEALS as a demolitions expert. That is; till he was given a Section 8. . .for pyromania. Next?"

Yet another click.

"Special Agent Frederick Venable. Born and raised in Vegas, where his parents (song-and-dance celebrity impersonators) taught him everything they knew about vocal mimicry and quick-change artistry. Following his graduation from college (which he attended on the ROTC plan), he was recruited and trained, by Army CID, to be an undercover investigator. A pretty good one, too, by all accounts. That is; till he disappeared in the middle of a sting operation against some gun-running National Guardsmen. Taking the bait money with him!"

"Last, but not least?"

One final click.

"Professor Jervis Tetch; suma cum laudegraduate of MIT with doctorates in cybernetics, neurological biology, and behavioral psychology. Rumored to be currently working for DARPA on a project involving paralyzed veterans. . .and pet monkeys."

He turned to Amanda Waller.

"Any questions?"

She stared at him with undisguised incredulity.

"This?! This is the team you want to take into Gotham?"

He nodded: "Rest assured, Sergeant Major Fors and I can whip them into shape in no time."

* * * * *
"That's not what I'm worried about," retorted Waller: "I'm worried about an instigated gang war getting out of hand!"

"A calculated risk, Madam Director," Wilson replied: "Predators are only attracted to genuinely violent conflict. And, the hotter the time of year, the better!"

Waller shook her head, dubiously.

"I hope, for both our sakes, that you're right."

* * * * *

PARADISE CASINO,
GOTHAM CITY
(2 YEARS LATER)

Firebug had been dragging the heavy burlap sack, to the broken open window, when they arrived.

The Dynamic Duo (after temporarily scrambling the radio transmissions of the perpetrators) had activated the hang-glider mode of their capes by pressing a certain button on each of their utility belts. As a result of which, the latter flexed outward like batwings! And, during their descent from the roof of the neighboring office building, Robin could not resist using his acrobatic expertise to pull ahead of Batman. Thereby being the first to spot Firebug. . .

. . .and plow into him feet-first.

When Batman landed, seconds later, he was just about to reprimand the Teen Wonder, when Deadshot started asking for his accomplice over Firebug's wireless transceiver headset. Prompting Robin to reply using his now-obsolescent knowledge of CB radio slang!

"Who is this?" Deadshot subsequently demanded.

Now, it was the Dark Knight's turn.

"I'm Batman," he replied: "And, you're under arrest."

"I believe I must beg to differ with you, Batman," said a new voice over the radio.

If the Dark Knight was startled, he did not show it.

"The Mad Hatter, I presume?"

"Correct. Now, please be just as intelligent, and let my associates go. Money and all!"

"I'm afraid that's out of the question."

"Then, you leave me no choice. You shall have to answer. . .to Alice."

Whereupon, the Dynamic Duo were momentarily deafened by the sound of an arriving helicopter. One they had only been half-conscious of approaching Rupert Thorne's night club, fifteen minutes earlier. In addition, they were momentarily blinded by the tornado of paperwork that suddenly engulfed them. Consequently, they were totally un-prepared for what suddenly plowed into them, and knocked them to the floor, like a defensive tackle on steroids.

Namely, Alice. A chimpanzee wearing a frilly blue-and-white dress and a blonde wig!

tbc