In the Shadow of the Bat
Who is the Penguin?
Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot panted softly as the short man ran for his life, his dark hair in disarray and his suit stained. Normally he tried to maintain the look of a gentleman, but now he splashed through the sewers, following his carefully planned escape route to freedom as he wondered how it had all gone so wrong.
'How, how?!' he thought, pausing to rest a moment. Things had been going so well for Penguin lately. His Iceberg Lounge was doing well, his side business of 'assisting' criminals with escapes and new identities was making him a tidy sum and his cashing in on his former criminal lifestyle was making him quite a profit. How could it all come crashing down so quickly?
"Come on, Mr. Cobblepot!" the woman's voice came from up the tunnel, "Make it easier on yourself. I promise to make it quick."
"Never!" Oswald barked, forcing himself to run once more.
Somehow over the past few weeks someone had leveraged away his ownership of the Iceberg Lounge, revealed to the police incriminating details of his underground railroad and now, apparently, was targeting his life. He had barely escaped the bombing of his home, and now he fled for his life with only his shotgun umbrella for protection.
'And I still have my Swiss bank accounts,' Oswald thought with a half smile. If he could escape this hunt he could start over. Not as well of as he had been, of course, but with enough resources to carry on. 'And to avenge this indignity,' he thought bitterly.
The Penguin splashed through the sludge and filth, feeling a flash of relief as he neared the marker etched in the stone wall. The cavern up ahead had been one of his old bases, back in the day, and now was his emergency hide out. It had more themed equipment, a boat, and the other resources he needed to escape the city.
'There.' Oswald went around the corner with a sigh of relief, only to freeze in surprise. The raised platform with most of his stuff waited was now occupied by several men with guns, fanned out to get a good spread of fire.
From behind him a eerie voice noted, "I see you found our little surprise."
Oswald turned to see the pale blonde who lead the rest of the goons up the hall, her expression coldly amused. Linda Friitawa had actually started out in the Penguin's employ, a biologist whom he had hired to tamper with the Scarecrow. Without his knowledge Linda had applied the Scarecrow's experiments with her own biological research, turning herself into the superhuman Fright.
"Well, it's been a long time," Oswald said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Are you the author of my recent troubles?"
"No," Fright shook her head with a smile, "that would be my new employer." She nodded towards the gunmen on the platform.
Oswald looked up at the platform as them men split, revealing the figure standing there. His lips twitched up in a smile, he chuckled then laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, I see," he had to smile even though he suspected it was going to get him killed, "a Penguin, indeed."
"Yes," the new Penguin agreed. A head was tilted to the side thoughtfully, "I bear you no ill will, Mr Cobblepot. If I let you go, will you leave Gotham?"
"I...," Oswald started.
"Fright, some truth serum, please," the Penguin ordered.
Oswald yelped as Fright touched him, her skin secreting chemicals that were rapidly absorbed into his system. Penguin repeated the question and Oswald felt his mouth move almost against his will, "I'm sorry, but I would have to kill you. Nothing personal, just business."
"That's what I thought," Penguin sighed. "Kill him."
Gunshots rang out as muzzles flashed, and in a splash of blood the man once known as Penguin, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, was dead.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"You're kidding," Stephanie Brown blinked as she read the paper, the black haired young woman looking at the cover story in shock.
'The Penguin is Dead!' the headline declared, a photo beneath showing the body found on a alley in Gotham. He was dressed in one of his usual tuxedos, this one stained in blood from bullet wounds through the chest. Dani Grayton's story was well written, summarizing the investigation so far as well as the search for suspects.
Steph hesitated a moment then picked up her prepaid cellphone, purchased under her cover identity as Steph Black. She dialed the pager number then hung up, knowing it would ring soon enough. With that done she walked across the loft to the kitchen, scrambling a egg as she kept an eye on the toast.
*ring!* The phone called out just as Steph was finishing off her food, and she casually grabbed it as she washed down some egg with slightly stale orange juice. "Hey," she smiled as she hit the on button, "how are you, Tim?"
"Busy," Tim Drake aka Robin answered wryly. "You calling about the Penguin?"
"It wasn't really him, was it?" Steph had to asked, getting up from the table as she considered what to do today.
"We confirmed it," Robin answered frankly, not mentioning who 'we' was, both of them knowing he was talking about Batman.
"Why kill Penguin?" Steph wondered aloud. "He's not a major player anymore, not with the Shark around running things. In fact he hasn't been a big name in years."
"You thinking of investigating?" Robin asked neutrally.
Steph sighed as she admitted, "I need a distraction from Cass."
Spoiler, along with several other heroes had attempted a covert entry into New Carthage, trying to determine the status of the League of Assassins. Their attempt failed, the team being ambushed on their way into town by costumed operatives, pressumedly recruited by the League. While the others were fighting Steph had been approached by Batgirl, who had offered her a chance to join the League. Of course, Steph turned her down.
"Yeah," Robin sighed too. "It looks pretty much open and shut on the surface," he noted, "though Batman and I are looking into some odd undercurrents."
Steph thought a moment, "Who's running the Iceberg Lounge? Is it still open?"
"Exactly," Robin agreed. He sounded rather amused, "I'd tell you to stay out of it, but I know you wouldn't. Just be careful, all right?"
"Yes daddy," Steph teased with a laugh, then the two said their goodbyes.
In street clothes Steph headed out later, taking a deep breath of the air in the West End neighborhood. This part of town fell under the protection of Catwoman, the semi-reformed cat burgler. She had only met her in passing, so far, but looked forward to working with the woman. Steph didn't throw stones at Catwoman's background, considering her own checkered past.
"Hey!" Cat Flores called, the black haired woman actually smiling as they passed by on the street. A former heroine as Tarantula Cat was slowly recovering her dignity and sense of self-worth, a process assisted by Steph calling on her as backup recently. They had stopped a character costumed as the Electrocutioner, as well as patrolling in other parts of Gotham.
"Hey," Steph nodded with a smile. "You busy tonight? I think there's some interesting stuff going on...."
"The Penguin?" Cat nodded, "I heard." The former FBI looked serious as she added, "Looks like a gang hit of some kind."
Respecting her opinion Steph asked, "Any idea who?"
"No word on the street," Cat answered her honestly, "and if it's a new player on the scene it could be big trouble."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The office wasn't near the Iceberg Lounge, in fact it wasn't associated with any of the past haunts of the Penguin. Fright knocked respectfully then headed inside, pausing as she waited to be noticed. Catching her employer's attention she reported, "Cobblepot's money and resources are now yours. We're ready to start operations."
"Do the men have the descriptions?" the woman behind the desk ordered.
"Yes, the original photos and aged," Fright said. "We're ready to go."
"Do it," she ordered, watching Fright leave. She rose to look out at Gotham, taking in the chaotic city outside the window. Sister Sara of the Order of Saint Dumas, whom some called the Penguin, sighed softly. "I don't do this because I want to," she murmured, "but to find you, Azrael."
To be continued....