In The Shadow of The Bat
Black Spider
Monday morning. Far too early for most, as a man huffed and puffed while jogging through the docks section of Gotham.
Alex Russo would have been in jail if he wasn't guarded by good lawyers and a lot of money. He worked for the Falcone Mob, and was a high ranked member of the organization. He oversaw the illegal gambling side of the family's operations, though he had also dabbled as a hitter when he was younger and stupider.
Like most mobsters, he was careful. He travelled in random routes to his job, and he had body guards for when he went out. His only bad habit, from a personal safety point of view anyway, was his insistence on jogging every day. And even with that, he varied his route fairly regularly. Sadly, not regular enough.
The boy also out running was wearing a baseball hat, t-shirt, shorts and runners. He looked like they typical kid heading to a baseball game. He innocently came up beside Alex, both matching each other's pace. Then without any warning he pulled a pistol from his waste band and shot the gangster twice, lethally.
Alex staggered, faltering, then dropped to the ground. He was already dead by the time his security team reached him.
The 'boy' carried on, then ducked in an alley as the security goons tried to get organized. In moments an attractive young woman emerged from the other end of the alley in sports bra, shorts and runners. Many men noticed her running, but amusingly no one connected her with the sporty young man who was the shooting suspect...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"You think the assassinations are connected?" Commisioner Gordon asked, the older man frowning slightly. His own officers agreed that there might be a connection between the cases, but were hesitant about it.
Batman and him stood on the roof of the Gotham City PD, the wind blowing gently as Batman's cape fluttered in the breeze. Batman nodded slightly, "There's been too many hits on mid-level gangsters to be coincidence."
"The few suspect discriptions we've gotten don't match," Gordon offered reasonably. He personally thought it might be several League of Assassins agents...
Batman nodded, "But after compairing the few witnesses, all the attackers were broadly the same height and build."
Gordon raised his eyebrows. "You think all the hits are the same person, but in disguise?" he asked, frowning.
"And very good at it too. No luck in tracing the weapons?" Batman asked.
"They use a gun once, then dispose of it. No luck tracing them, either... no matches to previous crimes," Gordon noted.
"Whoever is doing this is also setting up high profile crimes to distract me while carrying out their hits," Batman added. "They're smarter than average..."
"And we usually have to respond to those call outs too," Gordon agreed. "It's going to make them hard to catch..."
Neither brought up the fact that this hitter was only targeting mobsters and that the rank and file cops weren't chasing them TOO hard. Beat cops weren't as concerned about crooks killing crooks, generally speaking. Even Gordon had that feeling, somewhat.
"I'll let you know if I get anything else," Batman added, then was just... gone.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Hey, Brucie!" a cheerful voice called.
Bruce Wayne turned, looking across the garden party as an attractive redhead walked up to him. "You KNOW I hate being called that," he complained mildly. "Back in town for awhile, Rebecca?" he asked her.
Rebecca Calabrese smiled at him wryly. "For now. England is dreary this time of year, and France is out of the question," she joked.
Bruce sipped his gingerale. While Rebecca posed as a 'idle rich' she was on several charitable organizations and donated heavily. He supposed it was to make up for her grand-uncle being 'The Lion' and being head of Gotham's mobs. Her side of the family had never been involved in that sort of thing, but just being related meant they were frowned at by high society.
Quietly Bruce noted, "Thank you for the donation to the Martha Wayne Foundation. Though you didn't need to make in anonymous."
Rebecca snorted softly. "We both know that you do not want the Calabrese name anywhere near your charity," she said.
"I don't mind," Bruce started.
Changing the subject Rebecca said cheerfully, "Is that Vicky Vale over there? Are you still seeing her, you cad you?"
Bruce chuckled uncomfortably as he said, "She dumped me, actually. Said I wasn't spending enough time with her."
Rebecca became serious as she patted his arm. "That's terrible," she said gently, "I didn't know. She's losing out."
"Thanks," Bruce shrugged.
"Well, there's always supermodels," Rebecca switched back to cheerful quickly enough. "I'm pretty sure I saw Sports Illustrated Miss July here somewhere...," she teased.
Bruce chuckled, "I thought YOU were more into the sporty types."
"Ha," Rebecca smiled impishly. "Well, we can each tempt her with our fortunes and see who she goes for..."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Harvey Bullock wasn't a bad cop, really. YES, he looked the other way some times, and he was known to take the occassional bribe. But he was reliable, wouldn't abandon a buddy and wouldn't let the really MAJOR stuff slide.
The cafe was a dive, even by Gotham standards, but Harvey calmly headed to the back booth and sat, nodding to the other man. "Squirrel. You said it was urgent?" he asked.
' Squirrel' was a long time informer that Harvey had cultivated. He was with the Falcone mob, but was purely a money man and accountant. He had risen in the ranks from a runner to a position of moderate power and authority.
"Oooh, yeah." Squirrel sighed. "Someone is killing people at my level in the organization...," he revealed.
Harvey leaned forward. "There's been a rise in hits on all the mob families. Is this related?" he asked him.
"Think so," Squirrel agreed. "You ever hear of a guy called Black Spider?" he asked.
"Costumed nut who targeted the mobs. Got busted by Batsy, died," Harvey remembered.
"Well, apparently there's a new one," Squirrel told him. "You know 'Little' Jimmy who got hit last year?" he asked.
"Yeah. Killed with a un-registered handgun, no witnesses and almost no trace evidence," Harvey recalled. "We figured it was a pro hit."
"Whoever it was left a calling card," Squirrel told him. "Said they were the Black Spider, and to beware them."
Harvey blinked, "That's it?"
"That's it." Squirrel agreed.
Harvey cursed quietly. "Do you know if there were any other calling cards left?" He asked, thoughts racing. If this was true they had a serial killer targeting mobsters...
"Not on any Falcone hits. I dunno about the other families," Squirrel said meekly. He quickly added, "Don't mention me, if this comes up with your chief, okay? I'd get in such shit if my boss knows I talked to you."
"I'll keep it on the down low," Harvey reassured him. Well, he'd tell the Commish, obviously. But his informant wouldn't get named...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Timing, as they say, is everything.
The sniper waited patiently. They were concealed under a drop cloth, colored the same as the roof they were laying on. The scope was the only thing pointing out, fixated on an office in the building accross the street.
"Ok, the Madmen are going for the bank. I'll let you know when the cops are fully involved," the spotter reported.
"Roger," the sniper agreed.
The Madmen were a c-list group of acrobatic villains. Mostly fought the second Blue Beetle. A arranger had contacted them, and for a flat fee and whatever loot they could grab, they were hitting the First Bank of Gotham.
Personally, the sniper thought they'd just end up arrested. But that wasn't their problem.
"Police are fully involved. Batman has arrived on the scene," the spotter revealed.
"Got it. Get clear, just in case," the sniper ordered.
Calmly the sniper sighted in the gun. Adjusted for wind, distance and gravity. A deep breath, exhale... steady the heart beat...
With a nearly silent noise the rifle fired. The bullet punched almost instantly through the glass then into the man sitting at the desk. The power and velocity of the bullet killed him almost instantly.
As the office errupted into chaos the sniper moved. The gun and blanket were abandoned. The gloves and a protective mask were dumped in a pile, along with a jumpsuit they were wearing, All of them were then set afire using a powerful thermal device.
No alarms, no sirens yet. But the panicked office workers would call the cops soon. The shooter hurried down the stairway as they changed, even taking a moment to run a comb through their hair and do a bit of makeup.
Just as the first police sirens were heard, Rebecca Calabrese strode off down the street, blending in with all the other citizens...
To be continued...
Notes: Black Spider is a existing Batman character, a assassin who targets mobsters. Rebecca is my own creation, though.