On the desk sat a small petri dish. In the disk was a sample of the sludge left on the doors by the monster that had attacked Wayne Enterprises. Bruce had collected a sample of it while collecting evidence following the fight. There hadn't been much time to collect much else as the police had arrived soon after and he had to make a quick getaway.
Beside the petri dish was a large microscope, a small slide with a sample of the sludge placed on the stage. Standing in front of the microscope, Bruce looked in the eyepiece and adjusted the lens magnification until he had a good look at the sample. It was unlike anything he had seen before. He could make out cells, but they seemed less formed than usual cells. They seemed to have a pseudociliated appearance, but that was even a stretch.
As he continued to examine the slide, he heard crisp footsteps echoing behind him. Alfred. The butler was heading his way too as his footsteps grew louder. Faintly, there was a clinging sound that rattled with each step. It didn't come to an end until Alfred reached his workbench and placed it on the table.
"I hope that isn't my casserole you're studying."
The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched up before he replied, "I recovered this from Wayne Enterprises. Some kind of monster attacked and left it behind."
"Very good, Sir," Alfred responded. "I've brought you your dinner."
Tearing his face from the microscope, the dark-clad man turned his head to his right and found Alfred standing at the end of his workbench, a silver carrying tray resting on it. He could see a plate that had a pile of what looked like the sludge he had collected, though he could pick out pieces of green vegetables in it. That was the only thing to distinguish the two from each other.
For some reason, Bruce wasn't feeling very hungry at the moment.
Ignoring the butler's offering, the dark-haired man said, "I'm not sure what to make of this. From what I can tell, the monster didn't feel any pain. When one of my shuriken pierced its arm, it just pulled it out and threw it back at me."
"Maybe next time you should aim for its eye?"
"Maybe," Bruce replied, occupied. "I ended up using a fire extinguisher to harden its skin. It seemed to work until it jumped out of the window." Stepping away from the workbench, he began walking towards his super computer, taking a seat in the chair, and began typing.
Alfred was soon standing next to him, the tray in his hands. Glancing to the casserole, Bruce then looked up to the butler and said, "You don't seriously expect me to eat that right now?"
"Master Bruce, if you are going to indulge yourself in these nightly activities of yours, you need to keep up your strength, which means proper nutrition," Alfred responded, a hint of steel in his voice.
Bruce glanced down to the casserole, then back to Alfred's expectant face, then back to the food. With great reluctance, he picked up the plate and sat it in his lap. A fork was then held out to him, causing a grimace to appear on his face as he took the utensil. Scooping up a forkful of the casserole, he stuck it into his mouth and began chewing. Hmm, not bad.
Acting as if the last few seconds hadn't happened, Alfred turned his attention to the computer screen and asked, "Do you have any clue as to what this creature is made of?"
"Nothing I've ever seen before," Bruce answered before munching on another bite of casserole. Swallowing, he continued, "The properties are difficult to pin down." Pressing a few buttons, the image on the microscope appeared on the screen. "As you can see, there doesn't seem to be any stratification of the cells. Further scans show normal ranges of metallic elements in it."
Alfred raised an eyebrow at that. "Metallic elements?"
Nodding his head, he replied, "At one point during the fight, its fist harden into what appeared to be some kind of metal compound. It then crushed a wall with it. However, the monster seemed to be just surprised as I was about it."
"I don't suppose there is any visual evidence of this."
At this, Bruce frowned. "That's something that's been bugging me. When I checked the security room to access the security tapes, they were all gone. It's as if the entire building was blind to the fight." A pause, then, "In fact, the entire day was missing."
"Perhaps a security guard forgot to record?" the butler suggested, though his voice sounded dubious to that possibility.
"Unlikely. Someone stole the tapes, though for whatever reason is a mystery." It went unsaid that he would solve said mystery. Then a grin appeared on his face as he again began pressing keys, "However, there was one recording they didn't get."
The computer screen changed then, showing the back of the monster as it stood over fallen security guards in the Wayne Tower lobby. Those recording lens had paid off already. Hitting play, the back of the monster seemed to grow to fill the entire screen until two legs swung in from the bottom of the screen and struck it. "Whooooaaaa!" it cried out as it began to stumble forward. The feed came to a jerky halt before Bruce's voice demanded, "Give yourself up, now."
"Give yourself up?" Alfred repeated before looking down on Bruce. "Whatever made you think this creature would surrender itself? Does that even work on those hoodlums you beat up on every night?"
The dark-haired man ignored the remark. Instead, he just continued to watch as the monster fled from him, the young man giving chase as the camera bobbed up and down from his running. This continued up to when he had thrown his shuriken and the creature said, "What do ya know, that didn't hurt either."
Alfred's head perked up at that. "I do say, that voice sounds familiar."
That caused Bruce to jerk his head to a side to face his butler. "You've heard this voice before?"
"Indeed I have. I believe it was from a film I saw on the television."
"You watch movies?"
Alfred's eyes slid over to meet his gaze. "Unlike some people in this cave, I like to watch the occasional picture show when able to. I highly recommend that you do so as well. As a playboy billionaire, you do have to keep up with what passes for pop culture these days."
"Duly noted," Bruce deadpanned, his tone indicating he would do no such thing. "So who does this voice belong to?"
At this, Alfred tilted his head up as he placed a hand against his chin. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before saying, "If I'm not mistaken, Sir, I believe that sounded like Matthew Hagan. I could be wrong, though."
Ignoring that last line, Bruce was typing on his keyboard until he brought up a voice recognition program. Entering the monster's voice, he then sought out one of Hagan's movies that had been uploaded to the internet. Entering that in, he then started the program to begin processing. It took a few seconds before a pop-up window appeared with giant green letters that said, "MATCH 97%."
After staring at the window, Bruce turned his head to look towards his workbench, staring at the sample. "Don't tell me this is the effects of Tommy's cream."
And yet, that seemed to be making sense in his head. "Alfred, bring the slide I have in the microscope over here."
"Yes, Sir," the butler said before moving to do as told. Meanwhile, Bruce then said, "Computer: bring up all data on Dr. Thomas Elliot's facial cream, Project #EP3409." Instantly, the screen began to flash with color as it did as ordered. By the time Alfred returned, glass in hand, the dark-clad man pointed towards a slot that was opening up, a drive extending out. The butler placed the slide on the drive and pushed it back into the computer and more activity occurred on the screen.
Eventually, two windows appeared reading off what appeared to be random series of letters and numbers, but Bruce could read them. They were the various compounds of both the cream and the sample. As far as he could tell, they were very similar.
Bruce then lowered his head, his face coming to rest in the palm of his hand as it was held up by his elbow pressing into his leg. "Oh Tommy, what have you done."
In the safety of his home, Elliot had disposed of the security discs, ensuring that they would not come back to haunt him. He had gone all out, scratching the shiny surfaces of the discs before breaking them into pieces. Overkill some would say, but he would not take any chances. Especially not when he would be considered a prime suspect if Hagan's attack was linked to him.
In fact, if anyone was able to identify Hagan, he was sure that he would be investigated and further disgraced.
That seemed to be one of an innumerable amount of problems that had sprung up for him in the past twenty-four hours. According to the news, Hagan had been driven off, though how the news outlets could not speculate at the moment. He, on the other hand, had a good idea.
It had never entered into his calculations that the Batman would appear as he had. It completely broke the pattern that the vigilante had set up for himself. It didn't make any sense to the doctor and former C.E.O.
As he sat in his living room, the same room where Hagan had ambushed him in fact, Elliot continued to analyze the events of the day, playing them over and over in his head. He still had the bandages around his face, having not bothered to take a better look at the wounds he had suffered. He was too consumed in puzzling out the motives of the Batman and why he would show up at Wayne Tower of all places and in broad daylight.
What did he know of this Batman character? He had shown up several months ago; he did his vigilantic business at night; he was not affiliated with the police, especially since law enforcement was still trying to take him down with no results whatsoever. He had played a part in stopping Victor Fries, or Mr. Freeze as various news outlets had started calling the former Wayne researcher, during the Night of Ice.
Well there was a thought. This was not the first time that the Batman had defended Wayne Enterprises. Could it be coincidence? Maybe, but still.
It did not change the fact that for the second documented time the Batman had defended Wayne Enterprises. Maybe...maybe there was a connection here. Sure, twice was coincidence and thrice was conspiracy, but Elliot was not one to dismiss a coincidence easily.
He would have to keep an eye on the Batman, starting now. No more getting his fill from the easily spooked journalist and the uptight police officers who were not the vigilante's biggest fans. He would have to start his own thorough investigation. But why stop there? Why take the chance of having the Batman defend Wayne Enterprises for a third time? Why not be proactive and take him out now so that he would not be a thorn in his side later?
How would he go about doing that?
Obviously he couldn't have the Batman know it was him. After watching Hagan and keeping up with the Fries coverage, a direct assault might not be the best approach. Fortunately, Elliot was good at the indirect approach. It was his specialty even. During the games they would play as children, he would always beat Bruce—Wayne through indirect means. Thinking like how Wayne thought and anticipating his next move always won out.
So he needed to think like the Batman. That would require some observation, but how much was the question? Of course, before observing the Bat in action he had to find him.
Well, that was simple enough to do. Murder and mayhem ought to do it. A trap. If he played his cards right, the Batman would not know he was there until it was too late. After that, Wayne would not have a defender to protect him from his next attack, whatever it may be.
To pull it off, he needed to remain six steps ahead. Like he always was.
Gordon wasn't alone. From where the Batman stood, watching through a pair of binoculars, the police commissioner looked occupied with another person in his office. Considering his posture was relaxed, it wasn't anyone to be concerned about.
Shifting his sight to a clock hanging on the wall, the vigilante noted that Gordon would be leaving soon for a cigarette break. That would be the time to intercept him for their upcoming meeting. Returning his sight back to Gordon, he continued to watch until the older man stood up, picking up a small carton with him and began leaving his office. Who ever was with him was keeping out of sight of the window, something that concerned him, but again, if Gordon wasn't alarmed, then there wasn't a potential threat. Still…
Waiting an extra second, it was as the door to the commissioner's office closed that a girl appeared. Young, redhead, vaguely familiar. Okay, so she was definitely not a threat. Good.
Looking up, he scanned the roof of the GCPD, searching for any other officers up there and was satisfied to find it empty. Placing the binoculars back into their pouch on his belt, he then removed his grapple and fired it up to an anchor point higher up the building he sat on. Hearing the grapple claws make contact, he then hit the retraction button and was lifted up into the air. In mere seconds, he was at the top of the building, placing the grapple back into his belt before staring down at the police station.
Time for another test.
Hitting a button on his gauntlet, he then launched himself off the building, his cape billowing behind him as the air began to rush by. Grabbing his cape, it suddenly stiffened into its glider frame, immediately stopping his fall and allowing him to glide forward. If there was one thing to come out of the Fries Incident, it was this handy cape.
Hearing nothing but the slight flutter the ends of the cloth made, he approached the roof of the police station, angling his flight to circle the building as he drew near it. One of the large air conditioning units was rising up to him, to which he leaned back and swung his legs forward, releasing his hold on his cape and feeling it collapse behind him. Less than a second later, he landed on the metal unit, not even a sound being made by his landing. He was getting better at this.
Remaining crouched, he then turned his head towards the roof access door and waited for it to open. It took a bit before the door opened and Gordon stepped out, opening his cigarette carton and shaking it to pull out one of the paper sticks.
The vigilante just sat there and watched him, waiting to see if anyone else would be joining him. Most times that wasn't the case, but there was one lieutenant that would emerge every now and then. He didn't trust her enough to emerge from his perch and usually left without either of them being the wiser.
As a breeze blew by, he allowed his cape to flutter in it, the sound immediately causing Gordon to jerk his head up and then turned towards the air conditioning units. Staying still for a moment, the commissioner then pulled out his lighter and lit his cigarette, taking in a deep whiff before exhaling the smoke. Casually, he strolled over to the units, entering the make-shift maze before he found the dark-clad man.
"I think we need a better way of getting in contact with each other," the older man quipped.
The Batman nodded his head, but gave no other answer until, "You're keeping an eye on the Wayne Enterprises Attack."
It wasn't a question and he never meant it to be. Gordon didn't seem to mind as he replied, "Naturally. The mayor has been on my ass about it, demanding answers that I can't give him. If he wanted answers so badly, he'd do something about Internal Affairs."
"Forbes."
"Right you are. You share a lot of similarities, though I like you better. You at least know who the real bad guys are," Gordon confirmed.
He wanted to grimace, but remained stoic. However, he did offer, "This wasn't suppose to happen."
"I know. Neither of us did, but that doesn't change the fact that it did." The commissioner took in another drag of his cigarette and breathed out the fumes. "But that's not what you're here for, is it? It's the attack on Wayne Enterprises. What do you want to know?"
Good, back to something more comfortable—for the both of them. "Do you have any leads on who took the security footage for the entire building?"
"Not a one other than the theory that someone forgot to press the record button that day," he snorted. "Which is complete bullshit, if you ask me. The guys Wayne hires for his security are not stupid or forgetful. I'd say that someone else was involved, but I have no evidence for it right now."
"How about the owner of the car?"
"Nothing so far. The plates were missing. Any identification was removed—insurance, inspection stickers and the like. Fortunately the car has a serial number and we're looking into that."
The Batman kept silent as he factored in the information. It was likely the car was a dead end, though if it belonged to Matt Hagan, it could be used as evidence against him. However, if it turned out to be stolen, then there wasn't much they could do other than charging the actor with grand theft auto, at least when matters concerned the car. Perhaps it was time he helped direct the investigation.
"You obtained samples of that sludge on the doors, correct?" Upon seeing the older man nod his head in confirmation, the vigilante continued, "Cross examine it with a pharmaceutical compound that was formerly being produced at Elliot Pharmaceuticals."
"Pharmaceutical compound? Elliot Pharmaceuticals? Why would they be involved with that thing? Would be the oddest form of corporate sabotage I've ever heard of." With a shrug, the commissioner added, "I'll have someone check into it, probably Essen. With folks who have such high standings, they are offly sensitive when having to explain themselves."
Ignoring the last part of Gordon's response, the Batman said, "Call it a second opinion. I've already ran some tests and it points to them. And if you receive the same results as I did, we'll have the identity of the assailant."
"How'd I know you'd be interested in this?" The man shook his head. "Anything else you can add about that sludge? The lab boys are scratching their heads, almost pulling out their hair. Never seen anything like it before, I've heard."
"Nothing definitive. I'll keep you posted on anything else I'll find."
"Well, so long as I have you here, do you know why that thing was looking for Wayne?"
"It...wasn't very forthcoming about that."
"Figures it couldn't be that easy. I was thinking about looking into Wayne Enterprises, just in case."
Batman nodded his head in response. "There's more, though not concerning Wayne. Maroni's coming back."
There was a pregnant pause between them before Gordon swore. "As if there wasn't enough happening already. Still, now that Cobblepot's out of the way, it's clear for that son of a bitch to march right back in. Both you and I know we can't do anything about him. It's not illegal for someone to walk into a city."
"Sooner or later, he will slip," the vigilante countered. "And when he does, he'll go down."
"I wish I could have your confidence. Unfortunately, not all the men under my command are as...untouchable as you are. Some will revert back to old habits. Others will be drooling to have someone give them another source of income. That's not to say things are significantly better than they used to be, but we both know that the second thing Maroni will be doing other than getting his family back into shape is getting the cops back into his pockets." The commissioner took another drag on his cigarette.
Unfortunately, Gordon was right about that. Still, the Batman wasn't going to let Maroni return to suck Gotham dry again. This time, the Italian was going to find it a lot harder to conduct business, especially when every one of his thugs was visiting the emergency room.
However, before he could reply, a slight whining sound of old hinges squealing caught his ear. The slight tilt of his head was the only sign he gave that he heard it, his eyes focusing on the roof access door. Someone was trying to slowly, carefully open the door without being discovered, something that immediately lit up red flags. "Someone's coming," he spoke softly.
"I'll take care of it," the other man whispered back, heading over towards the roof entrance. As Gordon left, the vigilante once again activated the electric current in his gauntlet and leapt off the police station, grabbing hold of his cape and gliding away to a nearby building. Landing on it, he turned his head to look at the giant air conditioning units blocking the rest of the GCPD roof from sight. Good, if he couldn't see them, they couldn't see him.
That didn't mean he stayed on this new perch. Quickly, he made his way up the building side, until he was once more above the police station, looking down on its roof and seeing Gordon standing in front of...a redhead. Keeping still, he watched the two of them interact, the commissioner hiding his cigarette behind his back. Seeing that there wasn't any imminent danger, he made to leave.
However, before he could go, he stopped as he noticed the girl staring towards him. It was as if that moment froze, stretching uncomfortably long. Had she seen him? Scowling slightly, he moved out of sight, heading towards the other side of the building. He had spent long enough here and crime didn't sleep in this town.
Barbara winced as she opened the roof access door. Someone seriously needed to oil these hinges; it made sneaking around harder than it had to be.
Her dad had come up here not too long ago for a "cigarette break." Yeah, sure, that's what you call meeting illegal vigilantes nowadays, especially for a guy who quit smoking months ago. At least that's what she believed was their cover. The last couple of weeks had gone to show that yeah, her dad really did come up here to smoke and he did it quite a bit.
Perhaps it had to do with that IA guy that kept showing up. That guy was just annoying and she could see why her father made frequent trips up here. Still, that couldn't have just been it.
Pushing the door, the redhead peaked through the small gap between the frame and the metal door. All she could see was empty roof and a few lit windows from the building across the street. In other words, not much. Pushing more, she made enough room for her head to fit through and she did so, getting a better look at—
Well damn, there wasn't anyone up here.
Frowning, she gave up all pretense at being stealthy and pushed open the door, stepping out onto the roof. Turning this way and that, there was no sign of her father anywhere and that was really annoying. Had she come up here for nothing? Again?
"What are you doing up here, Barbara?"
Barbara squeaked as she spun around, seeing her dad standing there curiously. Where the heck had he been hiding? "Uh, hey Daddy," she greeted him tensely.
"Hi," he returned the greeting. "Are you up here for something?"
"Umm, yeah," she replied, glancing around, hopefully for a rather tall, dark, and mysterious vig...guy. "I thought I would join you up here and…"
That's when she saw it. In Daddy's hand was a burning tobacco stick. Hadn't he said he was going to quit? "Are you smoking?" she asked accusingly.
Her father glanced down to the cigarette in hand, a spooked look appearing on his face before he placed his hand behind his back. "No."
Barbara crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a stern look. "I thought you said you quit."
"Did I?" he asked, looking confused.
The redhead rolled her eyes. "Yes, Daddy, you said you quit…"
It was then she saw it. Over her dad's shoulder, on top of the next building, a dark shadow stood, watching over them. She could recognize those horns on its head from anywhere. So absorbed by the sight of...him...that she didn't see her dad turn to follow her gaze and question, "What are you looking at?"
Snapping back to reality, Barbara immediately said, "Nothing, I…" Oh great, what could she say now? Think, Barb, think. "I thought I saw...something." Ugh, is that the best you've got?
Her dad raised an eyebrow at that. "Something?"
"Yeah, something. Probably was nothing. Yep, just my bad eyesight playing games with me."
"I thought the opthamologist said you were 20/20."
She shrugged her shoulders at that. "Maybe he was mistaken."
Her dad just stared at here for a moment before shaking his head. Flicking his cigarette away, he then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began leading her back to the roof access. "It's about time we went back inside."
"Okay," she agreed eagerly. As they moved towards the door though, Barbara couldn't help taking one last look to where she saw the shadow, not too surprised to see no one there. That still didn't wipe away the large smile that grew on her face.
