To Play the Fool

Chapter Twenty

Alfred insisted that he at least get some rest. Bruce settled for coffee.

"Tex is out there doing my job," he protested.

"And you'll be doing her no good if you're falling asleep at the wheel, figuratively and literally," his wise old butler reminded him. "The two of you are supposed to be alternating your schedules anyway so you can get some rest."

"Not right now. The Riddler has the EMP Cannon and Arkham Asylum is nearly out of power. If the Joker or the Scarecrow get free, we'll be in even more trouble, and I'm almost on the verge of finding the Riddler." He downed his entire mug of coffee in nearly one gulp. "Do we have anything stronger?"

"That was the stronger coffee. But I'll break out the caffeine pills."

Bruce mumbled a thanks as Alfred left the Batcave. He shooed a bat away from one of the consoles and continued to search for major disturbances in the city. Power was sporadically returning to some places, mostly hospitals, the water mains, and nursing homes, but only in bursts and fits. Most people, if they were left in the city, were gathered in parks where the National Guard could take care of them. If they weren't there, they were raiding the stores and abandoned homes. The police were trying to stop as many of them as they could, but they couldn't prevent everything.

Then, to Bruce's right, the Jeopardy theme song rang out from the phone the Riddler had left him. He plugged in the phone to trace the call, and answered it. "Riddler?" he growled.

"Oh, Batman, we're almost through," the Riddler sang joyously. "Just two riddles are left for you. Solve them soon and Tex won't die."

"What did you do to her?" Bruce said slowly and evenly. The ice in his voice was nearly enough to strangle the man through the phone.

"Ahem," he said, annoyed at being interrupted. "The riddle: What am I that has three lives? Light enough to caress the sky, gentle enough to soothe the skin, and hard enough to break through stone."

He glared at the ease of this one, almost like the Riddler was now insulting his intelligence. Clouds, water, and ice. "The answer's water. Now where is Tex?" he snapped.

The Riddler ignored his question. "Did you know that her hands are mechanical? I've never seen anything like it. They don't like Electro. Magnetic. Pulses." He let the words hang there, just to let them sink in. "Anyway, you've got an hour to find her. That is, if you aren't too busy with other things." He abruptly hung up only for another alert to sound from the computer.

Arkham Asylum's defenses were falling, as he knew they would, and the staff was finally putting in a call to 911. Criminals were escaping, and mostly likely the Joker and the Scarecrow would be among them. Allowing them to roam the city was about to happen on his watch.

So save Tex and let the Arkham crowd run free, as well as run the risk of letting the Riddler escape?

Catch the Riddler and risk killing Tex and allowing the Arkham escapees to slip through his fingers too?

Or help the police at Arkham and let the Riddler go after he kills Tex?

He suited up in a matter of seconds. As soon as he was in his Tumbler II, his mind was made up.

I'm sorry, Tex, he thought, but you're on your own.

Then he aimed his vehicle for the Narrows and drove straight for Arkham.

Arkham Asylum was in a state of panic. That much was obvious. The residents had spilled out into what passed as a courtyard through the front doors, and both the staff and the police were struggling to regain control. The gates were holding the fighting as best they could, but any minute, the struggle would certainly take them down. The arrival of the Tumbler II seemed to only encourage the inmates. They could remember the Scarecrow's attacks and remembered how the sound of the Batman's vehicle only meant pain was coming.

If he had gotten here earlier, he could have used some tear gas grenades to break up the fighting, but the police were just as mixed in as the inmates and there was no way they could get out before the grenades activated. Batman stopped the Tumbler II at the gates of Arkham and climbed out of the cockpit to join the fray. Gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.

As soon as he entered the gates of Arkham Asylum, the focus of the fight immediately changed. "The Batman's here," was whispered through the crowd faster than an electric bolt. To the policemen, this was a relief as the inmates changed their minds about who was the greater danger.

The inmates practically swarmed the Batman, knowing that sometimes sheer force can overpower training and talent any day. Well, most any day. They surrounded him, attacking him with rocks, sticks, lunch trays, sharpened toothbrushes, and any other weapon they had been able to obtain. Fortunately for him, his armor was able to deflect most of those blows.

These men weren't determined fighters, just desperate. Taking advantage of that, Batman began by throwing several Batarangs into the crowd. This discouraged several of the attackers and gave him the chance to push through them to find the instigator, if there was one. Someone jumped on top of him, grabbing at his neck, but Batman was in no mood for these sorts of antics. Grabbing his arm, he threw the inmate over his back and punched him in the neck to paralyze him for a bit.

Others tried to follow the one man's lead and threw themselves at Batman. One by one, he dealt with them without prejudice. Kick one man in the head, punch another in the face, break someone's arm. Each blow had to be a disabling one. He had no time to spend on wearing people down or worry about not hurting them too much. He stepped on someone's leg hard enough to sprain their knee, yanked another man's hand up until his wrist snapped, land an elbow in a nose hard enough to break it.

Batman pushed himself closer and closer to the doors of the asylum, and the ferocity of the inmates got worse and worse. Some were even trying to bite his arms, which cost a few men their teeth. He dodged knife slashes to his face and metal bars from the fence being swung at his head. Most of those blows ended up hitting other inmates. That was one advantage he had with this crowd; they weren't united in their efforts, fighting for themselves, so they ended up fighting each other as much as the police or Batman.

Some inmates had taken refuge on the roof of Arkham and were throwing down bricks. Somehow, they managed to hit their own friends instead of the police. Batman sidestepped one large bit of debris, which hit an inmate wielding a dead chainsaw, knocking him out cold.

Standing on the steps to the entrance with Arkham Asylum emblazoned on the arch above him, the Scarecrow in an orange jumpsuit oversaw the destruction. He had a pile of weapons at his feet which he was handing out to whoever came through the door. Both cops and inmates, Batman noted. As soon as the Scarecrow noticed the Batman heading towards him, he picked up what looked like an oxygen tank or fire extinguisher with a hose attached to it and aimed it at him. "Batman! Are you coming to make an appointment?"

"I already have the antidote, Crane," Batman replied. He punched an inmate that had gotten in his way.

"But what about Gotham's finest?" he taunted.

"They do too. Nearly everyone in Gotham got the antidote."

The Scarecrow dropped the tank unceremoniously. "Well, there are other ways to go about this." He picked up a bottle of hairspray that someone had probably confiscated, and a lighter. Batman threw up his cape to protect his face just as the Scarecrow lit his miniature flamethrower. "I told you you needed to lighten up!"

Batman rushed the Scarecrow, knocking him off his feet. The flames licked at his face and arms, but they went out before they did much damage beyond a first degree burn. Then he pulled off Crane's mask and dragged him back inside the asylum. As soon as he found an empty cell, he threw Crane inside and locked the door with a pair of handcuffs.

While inside Arkham, Batman thought it best to see if an old friend of his was still there. The Joker, now patient #4479, resided in his own high security cell on the fourth floor. Batman took the steps two at a time until he got to the floor he wanted. The entire level was eerily dark and quiet, especially when contrasted with the level of noise outside.

The Joker's cell was at the very end of the hall and had the thickest steel doors out of all the other rooms. They weren't so much to keep everyone else out, but to keep that fearsome force contained. Batman peeked through the small slat of a window. The cell was darker than the rest of the hall, so he took a flashlight off his belt and shone it inside.

The walls were covered in red words, mostly HA HA HA!1! Joker rules! and DIE BATMAN DIE! Sitting in the center of the room was a man in the same inmate jumpsuit with stringy green hair. He turned to the light just slightly so Batman could see the scars on his face. Then the Joker returned to his previous position.

Batman tested the door, making sure it couldn't open. When it stayed shut, he left satisfied. The Joker was still locked up safely away.

He returned to the fight outside, which had died down some due to their riot leader being neutralized. The police were getting control back, but slowly. Batman rejoined the fight, pulling a few inmates away before they killed the asylum staff trying to control them, giving them the chance to be restrained. After several more minutes of fevered but meaningless fighting, the inmates settled down, mostly due to being put in restraints.

Batman checked the time. It had been forty-five minutes since the Riddler issued his challenge, and he still had to find where he was holding Tex. He figured it would be the docks since there wasn't any other notable source of water in Gotham beside the river. Even though that was his best guess, there was still a lot of docks to go through. He jumped back inside the Tumbler and raced for the harbor.

Batman's Tumbler II roared onto the docks. The old, rotten wood threatened to give way beneath the wheels of his tank, but either through Batman's sheer willpower or pure rage, the docks held.

At one end, the Riddler stood next to an empty port with cranes hovering over the water. He wore his trademark green suit and bowler hat, had a heavy cane, and was disdainfully looking at a pocketwatch. Batman parked the Tumbler II several yards away, opened the hatch and darted out without bothering to close it back up. "Where is she?" he roared.

The Riddler sniffed. "You're three minutes late. We've already started the game. Sorry, Bat-breath."

Batman grabbed him by his neck, nearly crushing his trachea. "What did you do to Tex?"

"On second thought," the Riddler gasped, "since you made the effort, I'll give you a shot." Batman let him go and he took a few moments to recompose himself and get his breath back. "It's simple, really. Two men drive off a bridge in two identical vehicles. However, only one manages to survive. What kind of vehicle was it, and how did the one man survive?"

"How is that supposed to help?" he said through bared teeth.

The Riddler only glanced at the water. Batman took a closer look and could somewhat make out the taillights of at least two cars. "I hear humans can only be without oxygen for four minutes before they sustain brain damage. Best get cracking."

Batman took a specialized full face oxygen mask designed for diving off his belt, strapped it to his face, and activated the 'backpack' shape for his cape so it zipped up into a convenient pack on his back. Then he took a running dive into the river.

A quick look around the murky water showed five vehicles slowly sinking in the river. He swam towards the closest one, a minivan, and tried to look through the windows, but they were blocked by newspapers and garbage bags taped to the inside. Couldn't figure out where she was that way. So this was the game the Riddler wanted him to play. Solve the riddle, and he would know which one Tex was in. Or he could go break open all the windows so he could look inside each one and waste precious time.

Five vehicles. A minivan, a pickup truck, a sedan, a commercial van, and an SUV. Well, that narrowed down the choices. How does one man get out of a flooded car when another can't. As far as he knew from the riddle, the men both had the same advantage, but they made different decisions.

The white, windowless commercial van seemed like a good option for a kidnapping. If anything, he was going to at least try that first. Batman wasn't a bad swimmer by any stretch of the imagination, but the cold water was slowing down his muscles, and the imminent caffeine crash wasn't helping any. Still, he gave it all he was worth. Tex was depending on him.

When he finally reached the doors to the back of the van, he found the doors were unlocked, but that wasn't the problem. The water wasn't letting him move that big of a piece of metal without several thousand pounds of resistance. He gave it almost a Herculean effort, but the door would barely budge for him. If only it would just move aside. He was about to pull out the miniature grenades and just blow the door off its hinges when another thought entered his mind.

If only the door would move aside like the doors of a minivan.

Batman immediately abandoned the commercial van and swam over to the minivan on the other end of the line, cursing himself the entire way for not taking a better look.

The door wasn't locked and slid open much easier than the other van. Immediately, he was greeted by the sight of Tex suspended in the water just behind that door. She was handcuffed to a hand-hold just above the door frame, and her normally shining red eyes were black glass. Tex bobbed lifelessly in the van as it sank even lower.

Working with blinding speed, Batman picked the locks on the handcuffs and pulled Tex out of the van. Hoping that his grappling cable would work underwater, he aimed it at the docks, held on to her waist, and fired. He felt the satisfying impact of the hook coming in contact with something solid, and he pulled the both of them in. The drag created by Tex nearly pulled off his arm, but he only gripped her tighter.

His head broke the water first. Tex was thrown onto the dock first before Batman pulled himself out. She wasn't moving, and her helmet made it impossible to know if she was breathing. Water bled out from the edges of her armor, but it didn't seem to be making a difference. Batman searched her neck for the switch that retracted the helmet, but it was nowhere to be seen.

One of Tex's hands grabbed his ankle. For a second, he thought she had regained consciousness, but it was only that hand that could move, not the entire arm. Only the prosthetic could move. It pointed at Tex's head, begging him to move it for her. So he picked it up and set it at Tex's neck.

The hand scrambled a bit, pulling itself into place, then it pushed the helmet off Tex's head starting from her chin and moving over her face. Batman let his cape fall out of its backpack shape to form a sort of privacy curtain, and turned her head to the side to let some water drain out.

That seemed to do the trick. Tex suddenly started coughing up water. Then she turned herself over and retched out nearly a gallon of river water from her stomach. After a bit more coughing, she threw up nearly the same amount again. Behind his cape, a few dock-workers began to cheer for Tex. Batman patted her back as she got the last of it out. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

"I better be." She spat out a mouthful of water. "What took you so long?"

"Uprising at Arkham."

"Oh." Then she dry heaved. "Of all the ways to die, drowning is my least favorite."

"I'm sorry, Tex."

She wiped some muck off her mouth with a limp left hand. The rest of her face was covered with mud and her hair had soaked up quite a bit of water as well. "I signed up for this," she replied coldly as she unzipped her jacket and shook out more water. "We both know that."

"What happened exactly? How did he catch you?"

"I was chasing my Ducati. I was going to get it back. Then he hit me with that EMP Cannon and I couldn't see anything after that. Couldn't even move my hands." Her right hand twitched a bit. "This sucks. Did you at least catch the Riddler?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't checked." She raised an eyebrow at that. He gave her a hand to help her to her feet, but kept her hidden behind his considerably larger frame. "I should warn you, we do have company."

Tex gave a sigh, which made her cough some more. "I can't see anything out of this helmet. I'm going to have to give it a look-see before I do anything more with it." She pulled helmet back over her head and slid the black glass eyes away so she could see. "How do I look?" Her voice was muffled just a bit.

"Terrible," he answered honestly. Then he led her over to the Tumbler II. She walked a little slower and couldn't stay in a straight line. Once they reached it, he handed her the key. "I'll let you do the honors since you almost died."

Confused, but too tired to question him, she pushed the Hatch-Open button. The plates of armor shifted and pulled back, releasing a white gas and revealing a snoring Riddler. "That's … why is he in there?"

"I knew that as soon as I was gone, he wouldn't be able to resist the Tumbler with all that high-end technology and weaponry, so I left a sleeping gas snare inside for when he tried to steal it. Now all we have to do is deliver him to Gordon."

"You can drop him off. I'm going home."

"I'll take you home."

"I can make it. I'll be fine, Batman. Just take him downtown. And I'll see you in a few days after I've had a nap."

The Riddler stirred only minutes away from the MCU. "That was clever ..." he said, his words slurring together. "Such a lovely tank you've got. It looks like something I saw at Wayne Enterprises."

"What did you do with the EMP Cannon, Nygma?" Batman growled.

"Gave it back to Mr. Wayne. Darn thing doesn't work that well; no decent range. I'll take it back once they've developed it more."

"Then why did you steal it in the first place?"

"Because I could and it was cool. Then I thought, why not use it on the Batmobile? But that would have been just awful to do to this beauty." He tried to reach out with his handcuffed hands, but a chain trapping his arms to his body kept him from doing so. "I thought a test run on Tex would be a better option, and it worked out much better than I expected. It's too bad that I had to kill her. I would have loved to study those hands."

Batman decided not to correct him. "You'll be spending the next twenty years behind bars."

"That's fine by me," he replied simply. The Batman broke his gaze from the road to look at him to see if he was serious. "My connections in Gotham are poor. I need a better network. What? You thought I was just minorly inconvenienced when you dragged me in to see Gordon? Oh, no. See, I like to talk. And make friends. Lots of powerful friends. I'm new to this place. I just wanted to show everyone what I was capable of. And now that I've had my fun, I'll go live rent free with decent food and lots of folks that will want to do my bidding. The next time I want to play with Gotham, you're not even going to know I was involved." He leaned closer to his driver and whispered in his ear. "How does that make you feel, Batman?"

Batman stopped in front of the police station and turned to the Riddler. "When one does not know what it is, then it is something; but when one knows what it is, then it is nothing."

The Riddler snickered. "Touché."