Batman and the associated characters are owned by DC and the Matrix and it's characters are owned by Larry and Andy Wachowski. This is set before the original Matrix film. All reviews welcome!
Chapter Four – Hostile Takeover
Batman was starting to see spots in front of his eyes. The Joker had his throat by the hand and was slowly squeezing the life out of him. All he could see was the Joker's leer. His white corpse like face and eyes with that peculiar intensity only he could give them. His arms were being held by agents Smith and Brown and he could not move. He kicked his leg up, kicking the Joker in the crotch. He went down with a squeal of pain. The two agents still had his arms.
Batman closed his eyes. "Flash grenade." He said. The voice activated explosive on his belt exploded outwards away from him in a bright flare of magnesium. The two agents dropped his arms and covered their eyes and Batman, using the Joker as a springboard, leapt towards the doors.
This was a fight he could not win and he could not afford to stay in. His Kevlar gorget had given his neck some protection but he would still have a bruise in the morning. Still running he raced through the corridors to the exit of Arkham Asylum. Outside the complex was a police swat team, guns trained on the exit. Where was he? Oh yes there was Gordon.
Jim Gordon was to put it mildly surprised. Normally when he saw Batman he was dragging the comatose bodies of several thugs behind him. Batman normally looked fine, with perhaps an artistic bit of blood from a cut lip, especially if there was a woman about to give him sympathy. Batman stalked up to Gordon and gestured with his head to walk with him.
"Problems?" Growled Gordon. Sometimes it paid to be as monosyllabic as Batman.
"The Joker has been given some sort of powers. There are also two meta humans with him."
"Powers? What sort of powers? Ability to open milk cartons without spilling them? Turn wine into water?"
"Probably about four times as strong as the average man and above average reflexes. Also ability to recover from injuries that would kill the average man."
"Are they bullet proof?"
"Didn't try."
"One of these days we'll have to issue you with a gun and a badge. We'll soon find out how bulletproof they are. Here comes the Joker and his cronies now."
"Don't let them get close to your men, they will rip them apart."
Gordon picked up a loud hailer. "Armed police. Lie down on the ground. Hands on your head, now." They ignored him and all three of them walked towards his police swat team. "Halt." Didn't work. Better gun them down. A world without the cherubic smile of the Joker could only be a happier one. "Shoot to kill men."
The police started shooting. They were highly trained marksmen, with the skill that only constant practice can give. Their targets were only ten yards away. Normally after being shot by a police swat team the only thing to identify them is their DNA, normally scattered over the sidewalk. Somehow the three of them dodged the bullets. They seemed to somehow blur and the fusillade of bullets all missed their targets.
Gordon pulled his problem solver out of his shoulder holster. Might be able to get them in the cross fire. After several seconds of the three of them seeming to blur in and out of existence they collapsed to the floor. Heavily perforated. Not so tough. "Cease fire!" He called to his men. Better check them out.
"Careful Gordon," warned Batman. There was a roaring sound of a racing engine and a car screeched to a halt behind the police cordon. He reloaded his gun and walked carefully up to the three bodies. Being careful to keep out of his men's line of fire he knelt down to the first body. Something was wrong. The men he had been shooting at had had black suits and sunglasses. This man was dressed like a vagrant. A rather smelly vagrant. Now unfortunately deceased. He looked across at the Joker's body. Where he was expecting to see a dead white faced clown the body of a man dressed as an Arkham guard leered up at him.
The Joker was enjoying himself immensely. He didn't know quite what those fruitcakes had done to him but he liked it hugely. He had been being shot at and somehow he could see the bullets and dodge them. Even Batman who normally punched and kicked faster than the eye could see was seemingly moving like he was in treacle and it seemed a matter of ease to block his blows. Even with that advantage some still got through. A tricky animal was bats.
The Joker looked around him. He was driving a car. A pink car with a baby seat on the passenger side. He looked in the rear view mirror and could see Agents Smith and Brown. Damn. He thought he had lost them.
The system had moved them to where it had detected some intruders from Zion. The Joker did not understand any of this but he did know he did not like being ordered around by a number crunching machine.
He looked in front of him. A car with tinted windows was weaving dangerously through the streets. A chase. This he could understand. He pressed the accelerator down and rammed the car in front of him. The car in front accelerated faster. The Joker rammed them again. He felt in his jacket pocket. Ooh! A gun! What fun! He pulled the gun out of his jacket pocket and accelerated to the side of the other car. There were some people there with sunglasses on. The Joker and agents Smith and Brown started shooting at them. The other car did a hand brake turn and accelerated in the other direction.
The Joker tried the same manoeuvre but crashed it into an oncoming lorry. Flames erupted around him…
There was a momentary feeling of release and then he was back again. In another body. The car he had been chasing was accelerating towards him. He was on a pedestrian crossing. A dog lead was in the other hand. He didn't know quite how or what was happening but he knew he had to get out of the way. He leapt into the air, leaving the dog behind him. The car swerved to avoid him and the dog and took the sidewalk, knocking over a parking meter and crashing into a wall. The Joker landed on the ground and started running towards the car. The three people in the car ran to a door, kicked it down, and ran into a building.
The Joker ran after them. He could hear a phone ringing. The ringing sound stopped before he got there. He ran into the room to find it was empty…
Agents Smith and Brown ran in after him. The Joker turned to them.
"Do you mind telling me what that was all about?"
"They are fugitives from an alternative reality. The 'phones are exit portals for them."
"Why should I help you fruit cakes out? Those people we are chasing look more my kind villain. Cool clothes, cool glasses one step in front of the law."
"We are not the law Mr Joker."
"Why should I help you?" The Joker spread his arms out in front of him. He looked down at his hands. His fingers had fused together. He tried to gasp in shock but he couldn't open his mouth. He looked at himself in a shop window and he could see he was turning into a…
Just as quickly as it had come it stopped. "We need your mind, not your body," hissed Smith. "If you cause us problems, we will deliver you back to Arkham…"
"Nice place, I've visited it often."
"…in a body bag."
The Joker giggled. "You are talking to the clown prince of threats. If you give me another chance at the Batman I will help you."
"If you help us kill these terrorists, we will help you kill Batman."
"Gentlemen, I don't know who you are or what you want, but you have my undivided attention. Let's talk tactics."
Batman stalked to the car that had pulled up spilling Tim and Alfred onto the pavement. What are they trying to do? Ruin everything. Batman walked past them without acknowledging them.
Tim ran up to him and put his hand on his arm. Batman grabbed the youngster by the collar and brought his face close to his.
"If you follow me out of costume again, I'll fire you…"
"Back off!" Said Tim, trying to get his breath back. "We are here to help you."
"I don't need help. Meet me at the cave. We will discuss this further."
Batman limped to his car and got in. Goddam it what were they doing? He pressed the accelerator and got a reassuring throaty sound from the V12 engines. He roared off. He could see in the mirror the car Tim was in vainly trying to keep up. It was fast but not as fast the Batmobile. He didn't recognise the people Tim was with either. "Computer," he growled. "I want a facial recognition scan on the two people with Tim. Also the two people with the Joker."
There was a whirring and beeping sound from the car. The car had a wireless link to the computer in the Batcave. That was linked to the Wayne Industry servers which in turn had a link to the Gotham Police Services, Interpol, CIA, FBI, MI5, Serute, F56K and the Russian security services. The computers had a facial database of about 55 of the world's population. Some Asian and African countries were not so technologically advanced, or were hostile to the cataloguing of their citizens, but he did not think these suspects came from there.
Two minutes later the computer spoke. "Negative. There is no record of any of the suspects in my database."
That left two possibilities. Either they were active security agents whose identities were kept secret from most security files. Or they were not known to the system, or at least the system he had access to...
The room is dark and dank. The only light comes in through a broken window. Outside can be heard the normal sounds of life in Gotham; screams and sirens. Inside on a small table is a phone. It starts ringing. Outside can be heard running. The sound of a chase. The window smashes open and a man with sunglasses and a black leather jacket rolls on the ground. He has dark hair speckled with grey. One arm hangs loosely by his side. He has been shot and blood is dripping on the floor. He picks up the phone.
"Operator, get me an exit," he hisses into the phone. He looks at the window. Two shadowy people running incredibly fast are approaching him.
"Oh I'm sorry!" Says a singsong voice on the phone. "That number is unavailable. But don't worry you are one of our lucky winners for a fabulous first prize!"
The 'phone explodes and the man is thrown back out of the window and his battered corpse falls onto the ground.
By a strange quirk of fate the speaker on the phone is still working and a high-pitched giggling sound can be heard…