BATMAN: CRIME, CRIME EVERYWHERE
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
CHAPTER 6 - RIDDLER STRIKES
Outside the Gotham Museum of History, a female figure quickly darted from one shadow to another toward the main entrance doors.
The woman was dressed in skintight purple spandex with shoulder-length black hair protruding from under her cowl. She had long, black, leather boots and gloves.
Before Catwoman could reach for the door handle to check if they were locked or not, she noticed a silent black automobile pulling up in front of the building. It was the Batmobile.
Her already serious mood suddenly turned a little darker.
Batman, Robin, and Nightwing quickly got out of the vehicle and ran up the stairs of the museum.
"What are you doing here?" Batman asked Catwoman.
"What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?" she replied smartly.
"I ask the questions around here," Batman sneered at her.
"Oh, let me guess, you're now tall, dark, and broody in front of the prodigies, is that it, stud?"
Nightwing interrupted, "Can we talk about this later?"
"I'm not letting her go in there," Batman said. "She could get hurt."
Catwoman snapped, "I can take care of myself, thank you!"
"That's just the problem, isn't it?" Batman replied.
Catwoman started to reach for her whip.
"We're here to prevent a crime -- not to take a look at the exhibits," the Caped Crusader continued.
Catwoman's anger was reaching its boiling point. She told Batman, "Look, babe, I told you last week that I could handle myself. I don't need some caped ..."
Nightwing tried again, "We really should discuss this some other time ..."
"Well, maybe she can stay out here and watch the Batmobile," Batman said to Nightwing not willing to look at Catwoman at the moment.
Robin tried the doors -- they were conveniently open. He started to say, "Come on ..."
"Watch the car?!" she screeched. Her voice went up another octave. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Yeah, sure, I'll watch your damn car and when you return, I guarantee you'll find nothing but a pile of shit out here, you ..."
"Let's go!" insisted Nightwing.
Batman resigned himself to the situation. He was not going to change Selina Kyle's mind. "All right. But Wing you take the rear. I don't want her watching my back."
"I wouldn't want to watch your back, you ..."
"Come on!" led Robin.
***
Inside the museum, the four costumed figures were looking around not so quietly.
Batman whispered, "I came here to catch a deranged criminal, not to protect a woman."
Catwoman whispered back to him, "Listen, you jackass, nobody asked you to protect me."
"Shhhhh," came from Nightwing.
The entire museum was dark. Suddenly, Robin observed, "Look Batman! Something is glowing at the end of the corridor!"
The four of them jogged to the end of the corridor and found a sign.
Batman said, "Hmmm, the glow is coming from the Hall of Weapons exhibit."
"This has all the signs of a trap," Nightwing said.
They entered the exhibit room very carefully. The room was pitch black. It was so dark they couldn't even see their hands in front of their eyes. When the four masked figures reached the center of the room, the chamber was suddenly flooded with bright light.
A harsh but familiar voice rang in their ears. "Advice, old enemy! Stay exactly where you are! I didn't come here to rob. I came to catch you! I see I have a bonus catch ... Catwoman!" He giggled uncontrollably and then continued. "Observe the crossbows aimed at you! They have wires attached to the triggers ... And the wires are fixed to the platform you are standing on!"
"EDDIE?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Catwoman yelled.
Nightwing looked around. Seven ancient, but fully armed crossbows were aimed at them. Some were aimed low. Most were aimed at about the level of their chests. If they were to go off, one of them, at the very least, would be hit. Batman, Nightwing, and Robin did wear some body armor. But Catwoman did not. There was no real way to avoid the aim of the crossbows.
The Riddler shrugged at Catwoman's question and continued, "If any of you step off the platform, the bows will shoot! And if you don't, they'll shoot anyway, in five minutes! My masterpiece, you must admit! Sorry Selina, dear, I didn't ..."
"EDDIE?!" she screamed again. "What the --"
"But there is an escape?" Batman interrupted. "You always play fair -- sort of -- to give your victims a chance!"
The Riddler giggled while circling around them. "Of course, Batman! There is always an answer to a riddle! Your salvation is tied to the lettered rings in front of you. All you have to do is figure out, what letter is like death?"
Nightwing lunged at the Riddler. "Why you --" He grabbed a hold of the Riddler's belt. However, Nightwing didn't have a good enough grip on him and Riddler was able to easily wrench away from him.
"Ah-ah! Don't waste time with me! You have only four minutes left to save yourselves! I must be moving on now! Ta-ta!" He started to giggle again.
"EDDIE?! EDDIE?! COME BACK HERE OR --" Catwoman yelled to the criminal in green.
"I knew it. I knew we would have trouble," Batman said. "Catwoman lay down on the platform. I'll cover your body with mine. At least one of us will get out of this alive."
She replied, "Like hell you will! It'll be a cold day in hell before you get to lay on top of me again, you per ..."
"Never mind," Nightwing said. "Nobody is going to die as long as we keep our wits about us."
Batman looked at the six rings lettered A to F in front of him.
Robin reminded, "Less than three minutes left ... I think I got it! E is like death. It comes at the end of life!"
"You're right, old chum" replied Batman. "And if I know the Riddler's thinking, this 'C' handle should deactivate the bows' trigger mechanism ..." Batman reached for the "C" handle in front of them.
Nightwing screamed, "NO! He said E, not C!" He grabbed Catwoman, threw her down and jumped on top of her.
Catwoman screamed in anger.
Batman yanked the 'C' handle. Immediately the deadly mini-arsenal changed aim from the Caped Crusaders and Catwoman toward the ceiling.
"As I figured. The Riddler fixed it so any ring would save us ... except the one marked E!" Batman said.
Robin added, "And if you had pulled the ring that answered the riddle, we'd been killed! He was being extra tricky this time!"
Nightwing raised himself off of Catwoman. He offered his hand to help her up. "I'm sorry, Catwoman. I just didn't want to see you hurt."
She looked at the three males, fuming, and scolded. "What's with you guys?! Since when have I suddenly become the fragile female that needs protection?" She looked at Nightwing. "If one of those arrows had hit you, you wouldn't be able to see anyone hurt."
Nightwing snapped back, "Look lady, I thought I was saving your life!"
"Enough!" Batman interrupted.
Catwoman turned her anger on the Dark Knight. "You see what you've done now? You've got them wanting to protect me, too!"
Robin was starting to get disgusted with all the bickering. In order to change the subject, he asked, "What do we do now, Batman?"
"We should check around ..."
Nightwing interrupted him, "Why don't we go after the Riddler?"
"Because we don't know which way he went or where he is going," Catwoman answered.
"Sure we do!" Nightwing replied.
Robin said, "Now, you're talking in riddles, Wing!"
Nightwing explained, "Do you remember when I grabbed his belt? I planted a Bat-homing transmitter on him."
"You did?!" Catwoman exclaimed. "When I get my hands on Eddie, I'll ..."
Batman yelled, "To the Batmobile!"
The heroes and Catwoman ran out of the museum. Catwoman started to run away from the three crimefighters when Batman called out to her, "Wait! Catwoman! Come on, it'd be better if you ride with us!"
"NO! I'd rather ..."
"Look, I apologize, okay?" Batman said to her.
Catwoman thought for a moment. It wasn't exactly a heartfelt apology but she figured that was the best she was going to get from him at the moment in front of the prodigies. She admitted to herself that it would be easier to get even with the Riddler if she went with the three of them.
"All right," Catwoman said as she ran toward the Batmobile. Nightwing opened the backdoor for her.
"I'd rather sit in the front," she said.
Nightwing replied, "Get in the back. Robin sits in the front. Trust me, you'll like it better back here."
She raised an eyebrow and decided there was no time to argue. She got into the car that reminded her of a shortened sleek, black limousine. Batman leaped into the driver's seat as Catwoman made herself comfortable in the back. The back seat was made of cushioned black leather upholstery.
"Is this what Ricardo Montalban calls rich Corithian leather?" she asked while sliding her hand back and forth across the seat.
"There is no such thing as Corithian leather. Montalban made that up for the commercial," Batman lectured.
She cursed under her breath, "Anal retentive ..." Catwoman stopped when she noticed Nightwing looking at her.
Batman manuvered the super-powered automobile through the museum's parking lot onto Remfield Avenue. The Batmobile in low gear, proceeded down the city street.
"Wing?" Batman called out.
"What?"
Batman started issuing out orders, "Activate the Bat-Scanner generator."
Leaning foward to the command console behind the front seat, Nightwing touched a button. Catwoman heard a low, thrumming, machinelike whine. She then watched as Nightwing slid open a panel in front of her and then turned a yellow knob clockwise.
After he did that, two trapdoors on the trunk of the Batmobile opened for the Bat-Scanner on its launching pad. Nightwing then pressed a red button and the Bat-Scanner soared into the night sky with the impact of a missile.
Catwoman watched as Nightwing turned on a closed-circuit television screen in front of her which provided a long shot view of a large portion of Gotham City from the infrared television camera that required neither light nor lights and was sealed into the nose of the Bat-Scanner.
Nightwing explained to her, "These two knobs in the middle are for the camera shots. Close-ups, long shots, and so on ... These let you turn the Bat-Scanner where you want it."
Being very adept with electronic equipment, Catwoman caught on fairly quickly once Nightwing let her handle the controls.
"But we're not really interested in the camera function right now," he explained to her. "Press the green button."
When Catwoman did as he suggested, a green alphanumeric display appeared in the lower right hand corner of the television screen.
The display read: W 4.27
"What's that mean?" she asked.
Nightwing answered, "That means the transmitter I placed on the riddler is a little over four and a quarter miles west of our location. Nightwing then told Batman so that he would start heading in the proper direction.
As the Batmobile continued speeding after the Riddler, Catwoman starting fuming again to herself about the Bat-clan trying to overprotect her. She didn't know where Batman got the idea that she couldn't handle herself. It wasn't all that long ago that the two of them would have knockdown brawls on a rooftop somewhere and she had managed to hold her own against the Caped Crusader. How many times had she sunk her claws into him?
Catwoman's train of thought was broken when Nightwing called out, "We're gaining! They're about a mile and a half ahead of us."
Looking at the screen, she called out, "Wing!" She pointed. "On the screen! I can see a green van driving wildly ahead of us. Do you think it's the Riddler?"
"Who else would be driving a green van erratically?" Nightwing asked.
Batman pushed a button on his console and the blazing headlights dimmed and a polarized beam was switched on. The windows of the Batmobile were treated with a special chemical. When the polarized beam was activated, everything outside lit up like it was daytime, except with an eerie effect -- everything had a green tint.
At the same time anyone seeing the vehicle racing by would only see a car driving with no headlights.
Ghostlike, wraithlike, silent, unseen, blackness merging with the blackness of the night, the Batmobile whizzing like a silent, rocket-propelled projectile moved toward its destination, now less than a mile ahead.
Nightwing called from the back, "We're almost on them."
"Roger," replied Batman.
Nightwing turned to Catwoman and pointed to another button on the rear console. "Press the blue button," he told her, "to send the Bat-Scanner back."
She pressed the button and within fifteen seconds the Bat-Scanner was back home within the confines of the trunk of the Batmobile. The whinning ceased and the trapdoors closed.
Nightwing pointed toward the front windshield. "There they are! Dead ahead!"
"Do they see us?" she asked.
"Not a chance," Nightwing replied.
They were in pursuit of a green van in a desolate industrial section of the city.
Batman pushed a button to activate the front rocket launchers. Two small doors, just below the Batmobile's headlights, retracted from the apertures behind which were the batteries of rockets.
Nightwing, from the rear, pushed another button to check on the signal strength of the Bat-homing-transmitter he had planted on the Riddler. An orange light lit up the target screen and loud feedback sound was heard. Satisfied that he had the right vehicle, he said, "Catwoman, we're now going to make the Riddler jump."
"How?" she asked.
"With the Bat-rockets." He pointed to a switch. "Turn this switch all the way to the left."
She twisted the knob until she felt a click. Hairline gunsights glowed on the screen in front of her now. Through the gunsights, she could clearly see the van they were pursuing.
"The little box with buttons on it in the righthand corner, they control the rockets," explained Nightwing.
Catwoman was getting a certain thrill out of all the high-technological gadgetry and weapons.
"I understand," she replied.
Catwoman took hold of the remote control aiming and firing device. She studied the gunsight, adjusting the Bat-rockets directional device. She was aiming at the lower rear portion of the green van. When she was ready and with the distance between the two vehicles correct, she fired.
The Bat-rocket exploded in a crimson and purple blast six feet behind the green van.
In that van, the occupants quickly turned their heads to the rear.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" the Riddler screamed.
Batman turned on the Batmobile's white headlights.
"Holy crow, Riddler!" one of his henchmen yelled. "Somebody is right behind us!"
The Riddler replied in a slow voice, "I can't see through those headlights! They're blinding me! It has to be Batman!"
Back in the Batmobile, Batman said, "Not bad for the first time, Catwoman. But those rockets are expensive."
"I think you can afford it," she kidded, trying to hold back the excitement in her voice.
The rear cargo doors of the van swung open. Batman saw the barrel of what looked to be a .50-caliber machine gun pointing out the open doors. The machine gun let loose a spray of bullets that bounced like hail off the Batmobile.
Batman was not worried. Bullets could not harm the rolling arsenal because the Batmobile was absolutely invulnerable to bullets. Its body, its glass, its entire construction was bulletproof, shatterproof, bombproof, even dentproof. And if a bullet happened to strike a tire, no matter. The special rubber of the tires would immediately seal in the pellet. Within the outer sheath of the rubber was a mesh of woven strands of steel that would prevent the penetration of a bullet to the inner tube.
Inside the Batmobile, Robin remarked to the Caped Crusader quietly, "I hope Catwoman doesn't blow the Riddler away!"
Seeing that the machine gun was doing no good, the Riddler told the henchman who was driving the van, "Step on it!"
The green van accelerated to eighty miles per hour. The Batmobile was right behind it. The van fishtailed into a left turn. Batman almost overshot the street. He turned the steering wheel hard to the left. The Batmobile fishtailed first right, then left, as the Masked Manhunter fought control of the wheel.
"Somebody is going to get killed if we keep this up!" Nightwing said.
Catwoman was actually enjoying herself. It had been a long time since she had had so much fun.
The two racing vehicles were now leaving the Gotham City limits at a hundred miles per hour.
"Catwoman," Batman called out, "try the Bat-rockets again."
"Right," she replied.
Catwoman took aim again. This time she aimed a little higher on the fleeing van. Her finger was poised over the firing button. When she felt she had a good shot, she pressed the button.
The rocket hit the rear of the van. The van screeched, swerved, veered into a ditch at the side of the road.
The Batmobile screamed to a halt.
The Riddler and his three cohorts slowly exited the van from the now obliterated rear cargo doors.
Nightwing yelled, "You're through, Riddler!"
With a hand on his head, the dizzy Riddler said to his henchmen, "Get them!"
The Riddler's henchmen were also feeling the effects of the rocket blast and the ensuing crash of the van.
Nightwing moved with the speed of a panther. He took the right arm of the closest attacking thug, swung him around, like they were in a square dance, and flung him into the other two would-be attackers.
Catwoman went straight for the Riddler's throat. She took the Riddler's right arm and flipped him with a basic judo move. Catwoman then pounced on top of the criminal and began to pummel him with her fists.
With each blow that rained down on the Riddler, she yelled, "You ... Son .. Of ... A .. Bit--"
Batman had grabbed the incensed Catwoman by the waist and pulled her off the Riddler before she could pound him into the ground.
Hearing several police cars approaching with lights and sirens, Batman carried Catwoman back to the Batmobile -- her arms still swinging in the direction of the Riddler -- and practically threw her into the rear passenger compartment of the Batmobile.
"Stay out of sight!" he ordered as he slammed the rear door shut.
The first patrol car arrived on the scene. With the dark-tinted windows of the Batmobile, it was highly unlikely any of the police officers would be able to spot Catwoman inside the magnficent automobile.
The Riddler and his men were placed in handcuffs and taken away, in police custody, to Gotham City Police Headquarters.
***
The drive back to the Batcave, for the most part, was a quiet one. Nightwing and Robin had said a few words to one another but Batman and Catwoman had remained silent.
When the costumed heroes arrived at their crimefighting headquarters, Catwoman exited the vehicle and immediately climbed the stairs back up to Wayne Manor without saying a word or even glancing at the members of the Bat-Clan who had to undress in their costume vaults.
Bruce Wayne emerged from behind the grandfather clock and entered his private study. Alfred, as always, was there to greet him.
"Is she still here?" was all Bruce asked.
"Miss Kyle ran upstairs, sir. She did not seem to be her usual cordial self."
Bruce walked briskly to the stairs of his mansion and climbed them to the second floor toward his bedroom. He found the purple Catwoman costume, cowl, and her black boots and gloves on his bed. The door to the master bath was half closed and he could hear the shower running.
A certain idea crossed his mind, but he decided it would be best to wait until she was finished with her shower. In about five minutes, Selina Kyle emerged from the master bath in a very short white terry-cloth robe. She was drying her long, dark hair with a towel.
Bruce tried to be pleasant toward her. "That was a pretty good judo move you put on the Riddler."
"I told you I could take care of myself."
He smiled, "Yes, but come on, he's five-feet, eight and weighs maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. Plus he was disorientated from the crash."
"What do I have to do to prove myself to you?"
"Selina, you don't have to prove yourself to me."
"Look, Bruce, can we drop it? I'm tired of being angry with you."
"I just don't want to see you hurt," he replied.
"You don't want to see my hurt?!" she exclaimed. "But at the same time you laugh in the face of danger! You attack six men at a time, drive that car of yours like a maniac, blow up automobiles. While at the same time you're willing to protect anybody's body with your own. It's like you have a death wish! I've got some news for you, Bruce, you're not indestructible! Sometimes, I swear, I can't figure you out!"
"You can't figure me out?!" he replied. "I can never figure you out! I don't understand how --" He noticed that her robe had come loose around her breasts. His eyes locked on her cleavage. -- a beautiful ... I mean ... one minute you're a jewel thief and the next you're helping us with this lunacy we call crimefighting."
He couldn't take his eyes off her chest. It had been a while since he had been with her. "I mean ..."
She noticed where Bruce's eyes were fixated. Most women would had tried to cover themselves up but Selina Kyle was no ordinary woman and her lover was no ordinary man.
She said to him as she walked closer, "Somebody has to do it."
Bruce was totally confused now. The logical thoughts in his mind had been derailed by this magnificent creature that was standing before him. "Do what?" he asked.
Stepping in front of him, she said in a husky whisper, "Do this." Selina kissed him deeply.
As if by instinct, he kissed her back and his hands pulled her closer to him. Their bodies melted into one another. Selina's arms went around his neck.
His hands had tugged at the belt of the robe and she shrugged her shoulders. The robe fell away and she was naked. He stared at her incredible body. "I thought I'd give you a second chance, Bruce."
Folding his arms around her waist and drawing her close against him again, Bruce felt her nipples hardening against him. His hand found her breast, kneading it, and his mouth crushed her slightly parted lips.
He moved her closer to him, feeling her hands as she touched his back, his chest, and elsewhere.
They were next to the bed and he leaned her onto it.
Selina watched as he undressed for her. She could plainly see how excited he was to be with her. Bruce slid into the bed beside her. Bruce's arm curled around her, his fingers entwined in her hair, gently pulling her head back.
She was smiling and he kissed the smile. Her hands moved over his chest, then along his back as he slipped between her thighs, the heat there burning into him. He could feel her hands against his rear end, and he kissed her lips, her neck, her throat, her chest, and her breasts.
Catching her breath, she finally spoke to him, "I love you -- forever."
Sometime later, Selina had Bruce's head curled under her chin and said, "You know, to a certain extent, I enjoyed this evening."
"That's it! You do this for fun! Why else would you do it?"
"And you don't?!" she snapped at him.
"No, I don't. A criminal murdered my parents. I made a vow to their memory."
Suddenly remembering his past, she felt bad about what she said. "I'm sorry," Selina said quietly.
Bruce only replied by hugging her close. Selina stroked his head until he fell asleep.
To be continued ...
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
CHAPTER 6 - RIDDLER STRIKES
Outside the Gotham Museum of History, a female figure quickly darted from one shadow to another toward the main entrance doors.
The woman was dressed in skintight purple spandex with shoulder-length black hair protruding from under her cowl. She had long, black, leather boots and gloves.
Before Catwoman could reach for the door handle to check if they were locked or not, she noticed a silent black automobile pulling up in front of the building. It was the Batmobile.
Her already serious mood suddenly turned a little darker.
Batman, Robin, and Nightwing quickly got out of the vehicle and ran up the stairs of the museum.
"What are you doing here?" Batman asked Catwoman.
"What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?" she replied smartly.
"I ask the questions around here," Batman sneered at her.
"Oh, let me guess, you're now tall, dark, and broody in front of the prodigies, is that it, stud?"
Nightwing interrupted, "Can we talk about this later?"
"I'm not letting her go in there," Batman said. "She could get hurt."
Catwoman snapped, "I can take care of myself, thank you!"
"That's just the problem, isn't it?" Batman replied.
Catwoman started to reach for her whip.
"We're here to prevent a crime -- not to take a look at the exhibits," the Caped Crusader continued.
Catwoman's anger was reaching its boiling point. She told Batman, "Look, babe, I told you last week that I could handle myself. I don't need some caped ..."
Nightwing tried again, "We really should discuss this some other time ..."
"Well, maybe she can stay out here and watch the Batmobile," Batman said to Nightwing not willing to look at Catwoman at the moment.
Robin tried the doors -- they were conveniently open. He started to say, "Come on ..."
"Watch the car?!" she screeched. Her voice went up another octave. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Yeah, sure, I'll watch your damn car and when you return, I guarantee you'll find nothing but a pile of shit out here, you ..."
"Let's go!" insisted Nightwing.
Batman resigned himself to the situation. He was not going to change Selina Kyle's mind. "All right. But Wing you take the rear. I don't want her watching my back."
"I wouldn't want to watch your back, you ..."
"Come on!" led Robin.
***
Inside the museum, the four costumed figures were looking around not so quietly.
Batman whispered, "I came here to catch a deranged criminal, not to protect a woman."
Catwoman whispered back to him, "Listen, you jackass, nobody asked you to protect me."
"Shhhhh," came from Nightwing.
The entire museum was dark. Suddenly, Robin observed, "Look Batman! Something is glowing at the end of the corridor!"
The four of them jogged to the end of the corridor and found a sign.
Batman said, "Hmmm, the glow is coming from the Hall of Weapons exhibit."
"This has all the signs of a trap," Nightwing said.
They entered the exhibit room very carefully. The room was pitch black. It was so dark they couldn't even see their hands in front of their eyes. When the four masked figures reached the center of the room, the chamber was suddenly flooded with bright light.
A harsh but familiar voice rang in their ears. "Advice, old enemy! Stay exactly where you are! I didn't come here to rob. I came to catch you! I see I have a bonus catch ... Catwoman!" He giggled uncontrollably and then continued. "Observe the crossbows aimed at you! They have wires attached to the triggers ... And the wires are fixed to the platform you are standing on!"
"EDDIE?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Catwoman yelled.
Nightwing looked around. Seven ancient, but fully armed crossbows were aimed at them. Some were aimed low. Most were aimed at about the level of their chests. If they were to go off, one of them, at the very least, would be hit. Batman, Nightwing, and Robin did wear some body armor. But Catwoman did not. There was no real way to avoid the aim of the crossbows.
The Riddler shrugged at Catwoman's question and continued, "If any of you step off the platform, the bows will shoot! And if you don't, they'll shoot anyway, in five minutes! My masterpiece, you must admit! Sorry Selina, dear, I didn't ..."
"EDDIE?!" she screamed again. "What the --"
"But there is an escape?" Batman interrupted. "You always play fair -- sort of -- to give your victims a chance!"
The Riddler giggled while circling around them. "Of course, Batman! There is always an answer to a riddle! Your salvation is tied to the lettered rings in front of you. All you have to do is figure out, what letter is like death?"
Nightwing lunged at the Riddler. "Why you --" He grabbed a hold of the Riddler's belt. However, Nightwing didn't have a good enough grip on him and Riddler was able to easily wrench away from him.
"Ah-ah! Don't waste time with me! You have only four minutes left to save yourselves! I must be moving on now! Ta-ta!" He started to giggle again.
"EDDIE?! EDDIE?! COME BACK HERE OR --" Catwoman yelled to the criminal in green.
"I knew it. I knew we would have trouble," Batman said. "Catwoman lay down on the platform. I'll cover your body with mine. At least one of us will get out of this alive."
She replied, "Like hell you will! It'll be a cold day in hell before you get to lay on top of me again, you per ..."
"Never mind," Nightwing said. "Nobody is going to die as long as we keep our wits about us."
Batman looked at the six rings lettered A to F in front of him.
Robin reminded, "Less than three minutes left ... I think I got it! E is like death. It comes at the end of life!"
"You're right, old chum" replied Batman. "And if I know the Riddler's thinking, this 'C' handle should deactivate the bows' trigger mechanism ..." Batman reached for the "C" handle in front of them.
Nightwing screamed, "NO! He said E, not C!" He grabbed Catwoman, threw her down and jumped on top of her.
Catwoman screamed in anger.
Batman yanked the 'C' handle. Immediately the deadly mini-arsenal changed aim from the Caped Crusaders and Catwoman toward the ceiling.
"As I figured. The Riddler fixed it so any ring would save us ... except the one marked E!" Batman said.
Robin added, "And if you had pulled the ring that answered the riddle, we'd been killed! He was being extra tricky this time!"
Nightwing raised himself off of Catwoman. He offered his hand to help her up. "I'm sorry, Catwoman. I just didn't want to see you hurt."
She looked at the three males, fuming, and scolded. "What's with you guys?! Since when have I suddenly become the fragile female that needs protection?" She looked at Nightwing. "If one of those arrows had hit you, you wouldn't be able to see anyone hurt."
Nightwing snapped back, "Look lady, I thought I was saving your life!"
"Enough!" Batman interrupted.
Catwoman turned her anger on the Dark Knight. "You see what you've done now? You've got them wanting to protect me, too!"
Robin was starting to get disgusted with all the bickering. In order to change the subject, he asked, "What do we do now, Batman?"
"We should check around ..."
Nightwing interrupted him, "Why don't we go after the Riddler?"
"Because we don't know which way he went or where he is going," Catwoman answered.
"Sure we do!" Nightwing replied.
Robin said, "Now, you're talking in riddles, Wing!"
Nightwing explained, "Do you remember when I grabbed his belt? I planted a Bat-homing transmitter on him."
"You did?!" Catwoman exclaimed. "When I get my hands on Eddie, I'll ..."
Batman yelled, "To the Batmobile!"
The heroes and Catwoman ran out of the museum. Catwoman started to run away from the three crimefighters when Batman called out to her, "Wait! Catwoman! Come on, it'd be better if you ride with us!"
"NO! I'd rather ..."
"Look, I apologize, okay?" Batman said to her.
Catwoman thought for a moment. It wasn't exactly a heartfelt apology but she figured that was the best she was going to get from him at the moment in front of the prodigies. She admitted to herself that it would be easier to get even with the Riddler if she went with the three of them.
"All right," Catwoman said as she ran toward the Batmobile. Nightwing opened the backdoor for her.
"I'd rather sit in the front," she said.
Nightwing replied, "Get in the back. Robin sits in the front. Trust me, you'll like it better back here."
She raised an eyebrow and decided there was no time to argue. She got into the car that reminded her of a shortened sleek, black limousine. Batman leaped into the driver's seat as Catwoman made herself comfortable in the back. The back seat was made of cushioned black leather upholstery.
"Is this what Ricardo Montalban calls rich Corithian leather?" she asked while sliding her hand back and forth across the seat.
"There is no such thing as Corithian leather. Montalban made that up for the commercial," Batman lectured.
She cursed under her breath, "Anal retentive ..." Catwoman stopped when she noticed Nightwing looking at her.
Batman manuvered the super-powered automobile through the museum's parking lot onto Remfield Avenue. The Batmobile in low gear, proceeded down the city street.
"Wing?" Batman called out.
"What?"
Batman started issuing out orders, "Activate the Bat-Scanner generator."
Leaning foward to the command console behind the front seat, Nightwing touched a button. Catwoman heard a low, thrumming, machinelike whine. She then watched as Nightwing slid open a panel in front of her and then turned a yellow knob clockwise.
After he did that, two trapdoors on the trunk of the Batmobile opened for the Bat-Scanner on its launching pad. Nightwing then pressed a red button and the Bat-Scanner soared into the night sky with the impact of a missile.
Catwoman watched as Nightwing turned on a closed-circuit television screen in front of her which provided a long shot view of a large portion of Gotham City from the infrared television camera that required neither light nor lights and was sealed into the nose of the Bat-Scanner.
Nightwing explained to her, "These two knobs in the middle are for the camera shots. Close-ups, long shots, and so on ... These let you turn the Bat-Scanner where you want it."
Being very adept with electronic equipment, Catwoman caught on fairly quickly once Nightwing let her handle the controls.
"But we're not really interested in the camera function right now," he explained to her. "Press the green button."
When Catwoman did as he suggested, a green alphanumeric display appeared in the lower right hand corner of the television screen.
The display read: W 4.27
"What's that mean?" she asked.
Nightwing answered, "That means the transmitter I placed on the riddler is a little over four and a quarter miles west of our location. Nightwing then told Batman so that he would start heading in the proper direction.
As the Batmobile continued speeding after the Riddler, Catwoman starting fuming again to herself about the Bat-clan trying to overprotect her. She didn't know where Batman got the idea that she couldn't handle herself. It wasn't all that long ago that the two of them would have knockdown brawls on a rooftop somewhere and she had managed to hold her own against the Caped Crusader. How many times had she sunk her claws into him?
Catwoman's train of thought was broken when Nightwing called out, "We're gaining! They're about a mile and a half ahead of us."
Looking at the screen, she called out, "Wing!" She pointed. "On the screen! I can see a green van driving wildly ahead of us. Do you think it's the Riddler?"
"Who else would be driving a green van erratically?" Nightwing asked.
Batman pushed a button on his console and the blazing headlights dimmed and a polarized beam was switched on. The windows of the Batmobile were treated with a special chemical. When the polarized beam was activated, everything outside lit up like it was daytime, except with an eerie effect -- everything had a green tint.
At the same time anyone seeing the vehicle racing by would only see a car driving with no headlights.
Ghostlike, wraithlike, silent, unseen, blackness merging with the blackness of the night, the Batmobile whizzing like a silent, rocket-propelled projectile moved toward its destination, now less than a mile ahead.
Nightwing called from the back, "We're almost on them."
"Roger," replied Batman.
Nightwing turned to Catwoman and pointed to another button on the rear console. "Press the blue button," he told her, "to send the Bat-Scanner back."
She pressed the button and within fifteen seconds the Bat-Scanner was back home within the confines of the trunk of the Batmobile. The whinning ceased and the trapdoors closed.
Nightwing pointed toward the front windshield. "There they are! Dead ahead!"
"Do they see us?" she asked.
"Not a chance," Nightwing replied.
They were in pursuit of a green van in a desolate industrial section of the city.
Batman pushed a button to activate the front rocket launchers. Two small doors, just below the Batmobile's headlights, retracted from the apertures behind which were the batteries of rockets.
Nightwing, from the rear, pushed another button to check on the signal strength of the Bat-homing-transmitter he had planted on the Riddler. An orange light lit up the target screen and loud feedback sound was heard. Satisfied that he had the right vehicle, he said, "Catwoman, we're now going to make the Riddler jump."
"How?" she asked.
"With the Bat-rockets." He pointed to a switch. "Turn this switch all the way to the left."
She twisted the knob until she felt a click. Hairline gunsights glowed on the screen in front of her now. Through the gunsights, she could clearly see the van they were pursuing.
"The little box with buttons on it in the righthand corner, they control the rockets," explained Nightwing.
Catwoman was getting a certain thrill out of all the high-technological gadgetry and weapons.
"I understand," she replied.
Catwoman took hold of the remote control aiming and firing device. She studied the gunsight, adjusting the Bat-rockets directional device. She was aiming at the lower rear portion of the green van. When she was ready and with the distance between the two vehicles correct, she fired.
The Bat-rocket exploded in a crimson and purple blast six feet behind the green van.
In that van, the occupants quickly turned their heads to the rear.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" the Riddler screamed.
Batman turned on the Batmobile's white headlights.
"Holy crow, Riddler!" one of his henchmen yelled. "Somebody is right behind us!"
The Riddler replied in a slow voice, "I can't see through those headlights! They're blinding me! It has to be Batman!"
Back in the Batmobile, Batman said, "Not bad for the first time, Catwoman. But those rockets are expensive."
"I think you can afford it," she kidded, trying to hold back the excitement in her voice.
The rear cargo doors of the van swung open. Batman saw the barrel of what looked to be a .50-caliber machine gun pointing out the open doors. The machine gun let loose a spray of bullets that bounced like hail off the Batmobile.
Batman was not worried. Bullets could not harm the rolling arsenal because the Batmobile was absolutely invulnerable to bullets. Its body, its glass, its entire construction was bulletproof, shatterproof, bombproof, even dentproof. And if a bullet happened to strike a tire, no matter. The special rubber of the tires would immediately seal in the pellet. Within the outer sheath of the rubber was a mesh of woven strands of steel that would prevent the penetration of a bullet to the inner tube.
Inside the Batmobile, Robin remarked to the Caped Crusader quietly, "I hope Catwoman doesn't blow the Riddler away!"
Seeing that the machine gun was doing no good, the Riddler told the henchman who was driving the van, "Step on it!"
The green van accelerated to eighty miles per hour. The Batmobile was right behind it. The van fishtailed into a left turn. Batman almost overshot the street. He turned the steering wheel hard to the left. The Batmobile fishtailed first right, then left, as the Masked Manhunter fought control of the wheel.
"Somebody is going to get killed if we keep this up!" Nightwing said.
Catwoman was actually enjoying herself. It had been a long time since she had had so much fun.
The two racing vehicles were now leaving the Gotham City limits at a hundred miles per hour.
"Catwoman," Batman called out, "try the Bat-rockets again."
"Right," she replied.
Catwoman took aim again. This time she aimed a little higher on the fleeing van. Her finger was poised over the firing button. When she felt she had a good shot, she pressed the button.
The rocket hit the rear of the van. The van screeched, swerved, veered into a ditch at the side of the road.
The Batmobile screamed to a halt.
The Riddler and his three cohorts slowly exited the van from the now obliterated rear cargo doors.
Nightwing yelled, "You're through, Riddler!"
With a hand on his head, the dizzy Riddler said to his henchmen, "Get them!"
The Riddler's henchmen were also feeling the effects of the rocket blast and the ensuing crash of the van.
Nightwing moved with the speed of a panther. He took the right arm of the closest attacking thug, swung him around, like they were in a square dance, and flung him into the other two would-be attackers.
Catwoman went straight for the Riddler's throat. She took the Riddler's right arm and flipped him with a basic judo move. Catwoman then pounced on top of the criminal and began to pummel him with her fists.
With each blow that rained down on the Riddler, she yelled, "You ... Son .. Of ... A .. Bit--"
Batman had grabbed the incensed Catwoman by the waist and pulled her off the Riddler before she could pound him into the ground.
Hearing several police cars approaching with lights and sirens, Batman carried Catwoman back to the Batmobile -- her arms still swinging in the direction of the Riddler -- and practically threw her into the rear passenger compartment of the Batmobile.
"Stay out of sight!" he ordered as he slammed the rear door shut.
The first patrol car arrived on the scene. With the dark-tinted windows of the Batmobile, it was highly unlikely any of the police officers would be able to spot Catwoman inside the magnficent automobile.
The Riddler and his men were placed in handcuffs and taken away, in police custody, to Gotham City Police Headquarters.
***
The drive back to the Batcave, for the most part, was a quiet one. Nightwing and Robin had said a few words to one another but Batman and Catwoman had remained silent.
When the costumed heroes arrived at their crimefighting headquarters, Catwoman exited the vehicle and immediately climbed the stairs back up to Wayne Manor without saying a word or even glancing at the members of the Bat-Clan who had to undress in their costume vaults.
Bruce Wayne emerged from behind the grandfather clock and entered his private study. Alfred, as always, was there to greet him.
"Is she still here?" was all Bruce asked.
"Miss Kyle ran upstairs, sir. She did not seem to be her usual cordial self."
Bruce walked briskly to the stairs of his mansion and climbed them to the second floor toward his bedroom. He found the purple Catwoman costume, cowl, and her black boots and gloves on his bed. The door to the master bath was half closed and he could hear the shower running.
A certain idea crossed his mind, but he decided it would be best to wait until she was finished with her shower. In about five minutes, Selina Kyle emerged from the master bath in a very short white terry-cloth robe. She was drying her long, dark hair with a towel.
Bruce tried to be pleasant toward her. "That was a pretty good judo move you put on the Riddler."
"I told you I could take care of myself."
He smiled, "Yes, but come on, he's five-feet, eight and weighs maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. Plus he was disorientated from the crash."
"What do I have to do to prove myself to you?"
"Selina, you don't have to prove yourself to me."
"Look, Bruce, can we drop it? I'm tired of being angry with you."
"I just don't want to see you hurt," he replied.
"You don't want to see my hurt?!" she exclaimed. "But at the same time you laugh in the face of danger! You attack six men at a time, drive that car of yours like a maniac, blow up automobiles. While at the same time you're willing to protect anybody's body with your own. It's like you have a death wish! I've got some news for you, Bruce, you're not indestructible! Sometimes, I swear, I can't figure you out!"
"You can't figure me out?!" he replied. "I can never figure you out! I don't understand how --" He noticed that her robe had come loose around her breasts. His eyes locked on her cleavage. -- a beautiful ... I mean ... one minute you're a jewel thief and the next you're helping us with this lunacy we call crimefighting."
He couldn't take his eyes off her chest. It had been a while since he had been with her. "I mean ..."
She noticed where Bruce's eyes were fixated. Most women would had tried to cover themselves up but Selina Kyle was no ordinary woman and her lover was no ordinary man.
She said to him as she walked closer, "Somebody has to do it."
Bruce was totally confused now. The logical thoughts in his mind had been derailed by this magnificent creature that was standing before him. "Do what?" he asked.
Stepping in front of him, she said in a husky whisper, "Do this." Selina kissed him deeply.
As if by instinct, he kissed her back and his hands pulled her closer to him. Their bodies melted into one another. Selina's arms went around his neck.
His hands had tugged at the belt of the robe and she shrugged her shoulders. The robe fell away and she was naked. He stared at her incredible body. "I thought I'd give you a second chance, Bruce."
Folding his arms around her waist and drawing her close against him again, Bruce felt her nipples hardening against him. His hand found her breast, kneading it, and his mouth crushed her slightly parted lips.
He moved her closer to him, feeling her hands as she touched his back, his chest, and elsewhere.
They were next to the bed and he leaned her onto it.
Selina watched as he undressed for her. She could plainly see how excited he was to be with her. Bruce slid into the bed beside her. Bruce's arm curled around her, his fingers entwined in her hair, gently pulling her head back.
She was smiling and he kissed the smile. Her hands moved over his chest, then along his back as he slipped between her thighs, the heat there burning into him. He could feel her hands against his rear end, and he kissed her lips, her neck, her throat, her chest, and her breasts.
Catching her breath, she finally spoke to him, "I love you -- forever."
Sometime later, Selina had Bruce's head curled under her chin and said, "You know, to a certain extent, I enjoyed this evening."
"That's it! You do this for fun! Why else would you do it?"
"And you don't?!" she snapped at him.
"No, I don't. A criminal murdered my parents. I made a vow to their memory."
Suddenly remembering his past, she felt bad about what she said. "I'm sorry," Selina said quietly.
Bruce only replied by hugging her close. Selina stroked his head until he fell asleep.
To be continued ...