Drip. Drip. Drip. He watched as each droplet formed and fell to the floor, forming a small pool. The result of a leaky overhead pipe, it was a constant among constants surrounding him.
He might have gotten up to fix it, had he been able to get up. But he wasn't. His legs were shackled together, and those shackles chained to the chair in which he sat.
He might have reached out anyway, to see if he could reach it from his chair. But he couldn't. His arms were firmly ensconced in a white canvas jacket, affixed with all sorts of buckles and straps.
But still he might have called out for someone to come and fix the leak. But he would not. In the impeding silence he merely gazed at each iridescent drop as it fell, fell for what could only be an eternity, before splashing down onto the cold, hard, cracked cement floor of the cell he was in.
Drop after drop he watched in seeming vacantness. Drop after drop he stared at dully, blankly. But there was nothing dull about the man. It was not the stare of a vegetable that looked upon the drops as they continued their inviolable journey, oh no. It was one of thought. The most deep and inscrutable kind.
They had imprisoned his body, but his mind was of his own domain, and that they could not shackle or chain. His mind was free to do what it would. They could not hold him here forever. Like the water, he would find a way out and be free. Like the water he was slow, methodical, patient. His time would come. He had only to wait. Only to wait…
"—Afraid I won't be able to make it back tonight Alfred." Batman said to the screen set in the dashboard.
The Batmobile turned a corner as the person on the screen responded. "Very well, Master Bruce," the exasperation clear in his voice. "I'll put your dinner in the oven. Again…" With a slight smile on his lips, Batman signed off. Alfred was a trusted friend, and he understood 'the game'.
It wasn't long until someone else buzzed him. "Batman here." He said, opening the connection. Oracle appeared on the screen.
"Just got word of something going down at the wharf. It looks like you were right, Gambono's feeling the heat and trying to offload his goods ASAP."
"Timetable?"
Batman could see her look down at the computer screen as she sought to bring up the right file.
Oracle, AKA: Barbara Gordon, had been an invaluable ally in his war on crime. The daughter of the city's Police Commissioner, Barbara had first started her association with the 'Bat Family' years ago as the super heroine known as 'Batgirl'. With a keen mind for storing information, and a natural knack for gymnastics, she had been a redheaded cyclone of justice.
That is, until the day a bullet severed her spine, leaving her in a wheelchair. It was while trying to battle back and live again that she'd taken on the role of 'Oracle', information broker to the 'cape 'n cowl' crowd. Taking her name from the legendary Greek Oracle at Delphi, Barbara became the 'go to' gal for superheroes everywhere. So while no longer doing it in person, she was no less instrumental in fighting crime today than she had been before.
Having found the file, she turned back to the screen, "From the shipping manifest, it looks like the Magellan Bound, which is the ship by the way," she adjusted her glasses, "is scheduled to leave port at around six tomorrow morning. What makes it stand out is that it just got here tonight. After taking into account refueling time, and the tides, I'd have to say they're doing it between now and two. Later than that and the dock starts to come to life again, making a transfer too risky."
It was eleven-thirty now. That gave them two and a half hours, Batman mused. The drop would take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. And they'd want to be sure to give themselves plenty of cushion room, so they probably wouldn't wait till the last minute. So that meant they were most likely going to make the transfer somewhere between now and one thirty.
Oracle stood by, her mind running along the same track as Batman's, waiting for a response. Having decided upon a course of action, Batman addressed Oracle once more.
"Roger that. Batman out." But Oracle wasn't finished quite yet.
"One more thing," she put in hastily, before he'd had a chance to end the connection. "Alfred called," She smiled slyly at the Bat. "He asked me to tell you to not work yourself so hard."
Batman couldn't help but smile at the sentiment. "Tell Alfred I'll take a vacation when my 'services' are no longer needed."
Nodding, and with a smile on her face, Oracle signed off.
Alfred was a lot like a mother hen, Batman thought to himself. Not that that was a bad thing. He did need to slow down, and he would. Later… But tonight, this particular chick had to see a fox about a hen house. And having used up the barnyard similes, the Batmobile turned towards Gotham harbor.