Her heart was about to clatter out of her chest as the creep with the scar stood over her pressing the gun against her forehead. She wondered about the whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes concept; wondered if Darren or her mother or her grandmother would be waiting for her on the other side; wondered if there was possibly anyone on the planet more idiotic than she.
She had done exactly as instructed, even though she desperately wanted to run after him. But she had stayed, sat on the footstool with her hands clasped between her knees, concentrating on breathing and keeping the half of the peanut butter and banana sandwich in her stomach since the stale air and dust was making her incredibly queasy. She made an effort not to speculate on what was going on or what Bruce intended to do about it. The one thought she allowed herself was that he was probably attempting to contact the police and would be back once that was done. She did not dwell on what would happen should he be caught.
Then, like Little Miss Muffet in the nursery rhyme, she received a surprise visitor. If it had been anything else she would have been fine, but it dropped down in front of her face with its eight legs and beady eyes, hanging on its silken bungee cord like an insectile thrill seeker. The scream seemed loud enough to shake the jars overhead as she leapt up and backwards, tripping over the footstool and landing on her back with a painful thud that was at least useful in cutting off her cry.
Dazed, she had lain there praying fervently that the walls were thick enough to cover the noise, hoping the spider would return to his web instead of landing on her face, and feeling the growing bruise on her backside that was going to become her badge of dishonor.
Unfortunately, her prayers went unheard. The door flew open and one of the waiters stood at the threshold pointing an extremely large gun at her. "Get up!" he commanded and she did, slowly, wincing as the muscles in her back started registering their displeasure at her sudden landing on the hard floor. "Come on," he said grabbing her elbow and forcing her back towards the ballroom. Once inside he shoved her forward with such force her feet couldn't keep up with the momentum. She shuffled a few steps before falling ungraciously to her knees in front of the big guy with the scar she would soon learn was the ringleader of the whole sordid mess. "Look what I found in the kitchen pantry," the man behind her said.
"What were you doing in there?" Scarface asked with an angry look.
"Searching for something to eat," she replied using the excuse she'd come up with as she had been dragged along.
"There's plenty of food in here," he commented, frowning.
"Nothing I wanted. I've got these weird cravings." She swallowed, the lump in her throat. "Because I'm pregnant," she finished, playing what she hoped would be her trump card.
"I recognize her, Kyle," one of the other men in the room said coming forward. She realized all the goons with guns were waiters serving at the reception. "She lives here with old man Wayne."
Scarface looked even more menacing as he scrutinized the attendees, and then turned his attention back to Mardi. "Where is Wayne?" he asked in a hard gravelly voice.
She took one deep breath and then said, "He was feeling a little tired, with all the work he's put into this, so he went upstairs to lie down for a bit." Not one who was ever comfortable lying, she felt she'd spoken with remarkable calm and resolve. Her eyes wandered to the wedding guests, all looking tense and afraid, with their hands clasped behind their heads, and she spotted Barbara who smiled and nodded reassuringly. But there was something in her eyes, almost like she knew Mardi was lying.
"Stan, go and find him. Now!" Kyle yelled over her head to the man who had found her, and then he looked back down at her. "And if I find out you were lying, I'm going to put a bullet in your brain. Mommy," he growled, placing the gun against her head.
Bruce was silently cursing himself for allowing the situation to grow so out of hand. He and Dick entered through the front door in time to see the man ascend the staircase. "Get up there and stop him. Meet me in the study," he ordered Dick. "Do not let him get away."
"You don't have to tell me twice. What are you going to do?"
"Get some supplies," he said already moving away towards a secret reserve closet. Three minutes later, Dick slipped down the stairs and met Bruce in the study.
"Whatcha got?" Dick asked.
"A little diversion," he responded. "Get ready to move."
The one called Stan had been gone for too long. Another one had been gone for almost half an hour. The leader, Kyle, was pacing and frowning. "What's keeping them?" he asked the other two remaining men impatiently. They simply shrugged in response.
Mardi was now sitting in a chair, apart from the rest of the group. She looked tired and worried, and Barbara had to wonder exactly how much she knew. Bruce was obviously out there somewhere. She couldn't hope he would simply call for reinforcements, would follow protocol. No, he had to do things his way. She shook her head, and then stepped forward. "Are you going to tell us what this is all about?" she asked in a strong voice. She could sense Sam tense up, but did not try to stop her; he knew she was a capable police officer and trusted her instincts.
Kyle whirled around and leveled his gun at her. "You. That's what this is all about, Lieutenant Gordon. Or should I say Commissioner? You and your new husband, the DA, you conspired to put my father in prison in order to pad your own political careers. You used my dad's case to get yourselves promoted."
"That's an outrageous accusation young man," Sam came forward and stood at her side.
"What's outrageous is that you think you can get away with it," the young man sneered. "She provided the false evidence and you brought it before the judge. Lies, all lies. And now you're going to pay for what you've done. My father died in prison, and I think you deserve no less."
"What a minute!" one of his accomplices hollered out. "You didn't say nothing about killing anyone. You said it'd be an easy heist to clean the old guy out and you'd get your revenge by spoiling their wedding."
"Spoiling their wedding?" Kyle scoffed. "That's not good enough for them." He frowned then. "Where the hell are Stan and Eric? They should be back by now. Something's wrong." He moved over to Mardi and pulled her out of the chair. "What's going on!" he screamed into her face.
"Kyle," Barbara said mildly. "Let's not do this. You can walk away now, before things get out of control."
"Shut up!" he yelled over his shoulder. To Mardi he said, "Tell me what's happening."
"I don't know," she said, almost whimpering.
"Stop lying to me! You'd better tell me what or who is out there, or so help me I'm going to…" his voice trailed off, but he raised the gun to her face.
"I don't know!" He released her arm and, with a sound of disgust, slammed the gun into the side of her head. Soundlessly, she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Barbara tried to go to her, but Kyle anticipated her move and covered her with the weapon.
Without taking his eyes off Barbara he spoke to the third man in the room. "Kenny, go find them. I want you back here in ten minutes."
But before Kenny could respond, there was an explosion as two smoke bombs were thrown into the room, filling it up with thick clouds and blinding everyone. By the time it had cleared all three men were unconscious and tied up.
He sat in a large chair in the quiet of the parlor, head back, eyes closed, breathing softly.
"You can cut the act," the sharp voice cut into his brain. He opened his eyes and peered up at her, with graying red hair, eyes bright and piercing.
"Barbara. Did I miss anything?" he said nonchalantly.
"Get over yourself Bruce. This is it, absolutely it." Her face was hard, her lips a thin white line of tension. This was not the girl who had emulated Batman and who had energetically leapt into the life of a vigilante crime fighter. A harsh, cold woman had somehow slipped in and taken her place. Where had Batgirl gone, he wondered briefly. "This is the last straw. You could have gotten someone killed pulling that stunt; hell, Mardi's lying unconscious in the library right now because of you. And now I've got to come up with some reasonable explanation about what went on in there, when there's a room full of cops and lawyers who witnessed the whole thing. I'm telling you, no more. No more warnings, no more second chances. I'm going to be appointed commissioner in a little over a month, and I'll be enforcing a strict no-Bat policy.
"You need to start acting like a retired businessman, because that is all you are! From here on out Batman is history. Finito. Capice?" He started to open his mouth, but she cut him off. "If you don't, then I suggest you find another city to live in." She pointed to the portrait of his parents. "They are still dead, Bruce. After all you've done nothing has changed that. Your parents are still dead. You've also managed to alienate your son and let's not forget what happened to Tim. Is this really something you want to keep reliving?"
"Don't say something you'll regret Barbara," he growled.
"The only thing I regret is ever believing you knew what you were doing." She looked at him for one final moment and then turned on her heel and stormed out of the door.
Bruce let out a long breath and then spoke into the emptiness of the room. "A lot of help you were."
The heavy drapes covering the windows rustled and a figure stepped out, walking towards him. "I thought the great Batman never needed any help," Dick said with an amused grin.
"Didn't you hear? Batman is history."
Dick chuckled. "Yeah, Babs at full throttle is still a force to be reckoned with." His face became serious. "I'm sure she didn't really mean it."
Bruce smiled sardonically. "Have you ever known her to say something she didn't mean?"
"Don't sweat it okay? Hey, I should be heading back. Save me a piece of cake."
Bruce nodded. "Does that mean you'll be returning?"
"Sure. When I feel like it."
"Just don't wait another twenty years."
The younger man smiled fully. "Count on it. Maybe next time I'll bring the kids. It's about time they learned about their grandfather the ogre."
"Ogre?" Bruce frowned.
"Gotta keep 'em in line somehow," Dick laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "Take care old man." Bruce smiled as Dick slipped out.
She woke up slowly, aware of two things: her head was a throbbing mass of pain, and someone was wiping her face with a cool cloth. When her eyes opened she saw the elderly black woman smile at her. It was Olive Young, Sam's mother. "How are you doing, honey?" she asked kindly.
"Uh," was all the reply she could muster. Then she managed, "What happened?"
"That man hit you on the head with his gun. You've got a pretty nasty bump. There's an ambulance on its way to take you to the hospital."
"Mmm," she said. "What happened after I blacked out?" She looked around and noticed she was lying on the small sofa in the library.
"Well, all this smoke appeared and we couldn't see a thing. It took a few minutes for it all to clear up, and by then the three men were on the ground, and tied up. The other two were found in the kitchen and upstairs. Some people are saying that it was the Batman, but he hasn't been seen in years."
"Really?" Mardi said trying to sit up. "I thought he was dead?"
"Oh I don't think that's such a good idea, dear. Maybe you should just stay down," Olive said apprehensively.
"I'm okay," she insisted, but her stomach was very annoyed at the sudden change from horizontal to vertical, and she finally lost her daylong battle to keep the sandwich down. She bent over as it came back up, partially splattering on Mrs. Young's shoes. "God, I'm sorry about that," she moaned.
"It's all right, dear. When I was carrying Samuel I was sick every day for the first month, then I was right as rain," she said with a smile.
"That's a relief," Mardi replied with a small modicum of hope that she could actually survive nine months of pregnancy.
"Of course one of my sisters was sick the entire time for all of her children."
"Oh joy." She gingerly reached up and inspected the lump that had developed over her left eyebrow, yelping as she touched the most sensitive spot.
"Mardi?" someone called out from the doorway. She was so excited to hear his voice that she immediately leapt to her feet. Her entire world became liquid and she was about to go down for the count, but then he was there to catch her. "Twice in one day?" he asked softly. "Better not let this become a habit."
She leaned her head back to get a better view of him. "I didn't know you were twins?" she asked as her vision doubled and swam out of focus.
He frowned and scooped her up into his arms. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"S'okay," she tried to tell him. "Th'ambulance's comin'."
"I think I'd prefer to take you myself," he assured her.
"'Kay," she said, fighting off the darkness. "Hey, d'you know Batman wuz'ere?" Her voice trailed off as she sunk into oblivion, her entire body going limp in his arms.
