Batman and the associated characters are owned by DC and the Matrix and its characters are owned by Larry and Andy Wachowski. I would like to thank Cmar for beta-reading this chapter and the previous few chapters and all the reviewers. This is set before the original Matrix film. All reviews welcome.

Chapter Fourteen – Hostile Takeover

The Joker was depressed. This job was not as much fun as he had first thought. Sure he had got himself a nice gun and this suit, which although not his purple clown suit was quite smart. He had to take in the sleeves and tighten up the trousers but not bad. No. What was really making him mad was the prisoners. He always used to laugh at the guards. The inefficient low life scum that they were. Now he was a guard he realised just how difficult it was to keep in about two hundred intelligent psychopaths. All of whom were experienced escapologists. In fact most of them had at least a dozen successful escapes each to their name. They put all these experts together so they could talk about new escape attempts? And they called him mad? He was currently standing in front of the Riddler. The Riddler did not recognise him due to some magic of the "system". The Riddler was currently tied up and hanging upside down in the middle of the room. Not standard interview technique you might think? You would be right. But the Joker was not a standard interviewer…

"So Riddly old boy, what were you doing outside the walls?"

"What driver doesn't have a licence?"

The Joker squirted him in the face with a water pistol. "Beeeep! Wrong answer! Wrong answer!"

Agent Brown was standing with his back to the wall. "This is not standard procedure."

The Joker squirted him as well. God, he was bored. These squares were seriously cramping his style. They wouldn't even allow him to use acid in the water pistol. I mean what was the point of a water pistol that just squirted… water! He shuddered.

Brown wiped his face with one hand. "If we didn't need your species I would wipe it from the Earth."

The Joker grinned at Brown. "Now! Now! Brown! That attitude won't win you any friends but it will win you…" The Joker squirted at Brown. Brown dodged it and grabbed the Joker by the neck. He put one hand to his ear and smiled.

"Morpheus has returned to the system. He has brought Batman and Robin with him."

The Joker snapped one arm back and grabbed Brown by the neck and lifted him up the wall. "Careful, suit boy! I'm stronger than you are now; if you want my help you had better learn some manners!" He threw Brown to the other side of the room. The wall cracked and splintered where Brown landed. Brown slid to the floor in a daze.

"That's impossible…" he said, unknowingly copying Bruce's words earlier.

"Not at all," said the Joker. "I've been studying this system of yours. This world is not real. We are only bound by our imagination and I think you'll find I have a sicker imagination than most…" The wall behind Brown began to boil and warp. "Next time I see Batman and Morpheus I will melt their bodies to slurry…" Agent Brown started to melt like a candle. The Joker only grinned more widely.

Alfred was standing above the body of the guard he had knocked out. He was amazed how quickly he had become a "trustee". Helping foil the escape of Zsasz, Two-face and Scarecrow had something to do with it. He was in the kitchen just starting to prepare breakfast and there was only one guard… It had been the matter of seconds to knock him out with a frying pan. He looked at his watch. He had ten minutes before the rest of the prisoners were due to be released for breakfast. He quickly undressed the guard and put on the guard's clothes. They didn't fit properly! They looked rather baggy. Oh well. He was not looking for a prize for sartorial elegance. He checked the pass. The photo looked nothing like him. He used to be in theatre. Some of his old acting skills came back to him. He breathed deeply and swaggered out of the kitchen. He had his helmet down low and walked over to the door. He got out his card and waved it in front of the card reader. It beeped at him and the light stayed an obstinate red colour. He started sweating slightly. He waved his card in front of the reader again. Still red. Another guard walked up behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Alfred put on a Southern twang to his accent. "This goddamn door won't open."

"Jeez man, where you been the past three weeks? They got thumb print scanners as well as the card readers now." He stood next to Alfred and looked at him. Alfred tried to keep his jaw fairly slack and his eyes vacant.

"Been on sick pay ain't I?"

"What for?"

"Couple of the whackoes jumped me, didn't they? Nobody dun told me about any new system."

"Ain't we all been there? The Gotham hospital has a wing just for Arkham guards they say. It's a new system ain't it?" The guard put his thumb on the scanner and waved his card at the door. Alfred walked gratefully through the door, following the guard. Alfred then stopped. He was in a new place. This was the guards' quarters. Even being a trustee he had never been here before. Now to get out, and quickly. He walked out the nearest steel doorway and into the courtyard. In front of him was the huge metal gate of Arkham prison. There were four heavily armed guards standing sentry next to it. They would not be as easy to fool as the last guard. There was also another thumbprint and card scanner. He had the card, but not his picture on it; he just didn't have the thumb… He looked at his watch. Five minutes before that guard he had knocked out was discovered…

In a room in a warehouse was a table. On top of the table was a phone. The phone was ringing. After the third ring the phone stopped ringing and a car was in the warehouse. It was a car like none seen before or since. The sides were mirrored, reflecting the dull walls surrounding it. Even the windows were mirrored; it was impossible to see who was inside it. There was a lightly embossed bat symbol on the side that could only be seen if the light caught the side just right. With a barely audible hum the car purred out of the warehouse and in seconds was up to 300 mph. Its cornering was incredible. Old papers and food wrappers formed a vortex behind it as it sped down the freeway. The Bat is back…

The Joker put his hands back to his sides. Agent Brown was still alive, but barely. His face and body looked warped. The door slammed open and Agent Smith walked in. He took one look at Brown and whipped his pistol out of his shoulder holster. In milliseconds bullets were winging towards the Joker. The Joker didn't even raise a hand. The bullets stopped in mid air and with a faint tinkling sound fell on the ground.

"Well boys, I think I've outgrown your petty parlour tricks."

Smith ran forward and tried to punch the Joker. The Joker held Smith's fist with one hand and started squeezing… There was a cracking sound and he let go. Smith looked down in horror at his misshapen hand. The Joker put an arm around Smith's shoulders. "Don't worry buddy, we're still amigos! At least until Batty boy joins the festivities."

Smith grimaced. "The system has not given you those powers."

"No, old fruit bat, I gave them to me. Don't worry, what the Joker giveth the Joker can take away…" He waved his hands at Smith and Brown and they warped back to the shape they should be.

"How is this possible?" said Smith, looking at his hand, now magically reformed.

"Don't ask me, old begonia! All I can tell you is that I'm just longing to see that airborne rodent again and really teach him to fly." A table in the far corner of the room started to float. It carried on floating up until it smashed into pieces on the ceiling. The Riddler had been watching all this from his tied up upside down position in shock. The Joker turned his attentions to him. The Riddler burst into flames. The Joker grinned even more at this. "What do you call a burnt Riddler?" The Joker tittered. "Anything you like, he can't hear you!"

Alfred sauntered over to the gate. A guard cocked his gun and pointed it at Alfred. He was nearly 6 foot tall and about 270 lbs. Even the walk over to Alfred made him sweat. Alfred could clearly see the sweat running down his bald head.

"'ere, point that thing elsewhere cancha?" said Alfred.

"I don't know you. Name and security section?"

"Tom Colby. I work on Security Section C. The psychopaths. I've already had a crap day. I've been thrown up on by Two-face. Talk about multicoloured yawn. Believe me, the only thing less attractive than that is his face."

"Let's see your pass, Colby."

"Less of that Colby stuff. You guys have it easy out here on guard duty. All the psychos are in there. We're the ones who have to mix with those fruit loops day in and day out." Alfred pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

"Where's your pass?"

"I told you Two-face threw up over it!" Alfred reached gingerly into his pocket. He looked at him curiously. "Do you really want to see it?"

"I won't ask you again."

Alfred's brow furrowed. "Hang on. Forget my pass, what about your pass?"

"We're the guards."

"I've only got your word for that. What's your name? How do I know you aren't an escaped inmate disguised as a guard?"

"I'm Felix Alcott!" The guard pointed a finger at his chest. His long oval face looked surprised at anyone asking him.

"I've only got your word for that. Where's your pass, Alcott?"

Felix Alcott reached a hand into his pocket and brought out a grubby looking pass.

Alfred snatched it from him. He peered at the picture of Alcott. It was obviously taken a few years ago. When Alcott had had long black hair and a goatee beard. He now sported a skinhead hair cut. "Nothing like you! This is a clear forgery!"

"It is me!" insisted Alcott.

"Prove it," said Alfred, pointing to the thumb pad in front of the gate. "If your thumb print and card match up then I'll believe you."

Alfred followed a complaining Alcott to the gate security system. Alcott placed his thumb on the pad and waved his card in front of the card reader. There was a big clicking sound and the sound of heavy machinery. With a whirring sound the heavy gate ground open.

"See!" said Alcott.

"You're absolutely right," said Alfred. "Sorry for doubting you, Felix. I'll see you guys later. My next shift is tomorrow…"

Alfred sauntered out. He was past the gates. He was on the long straight road to Gotham. Don't run and don't look back, he thought.

"Hey!" He heard shouting behind him.

Don't run. Don't do anything they can shoot you for. He started to walk faster.

"HEY STOP!"

He could hear the sound of running behind him.

"YOU STOP!"

His heart in his mouth, he turned around. It was Alcott running down the road towards him. "Hey Colby you dropped this!" Alcott handed him the pass he had stolen from the guard earlier.

"Cheers," said Alfred, stretching his hand out.

"Hang on," said Alcott. "Let's see your pass while we're here." He flicked open the pass and looked down from the pass to Alfred.

Alfred started to sweat.

"Jeez, you were a hairy bastard." Alcott threw the pass back to Alfred. "The moustache is a definite improvement." Alfred glanced down. Tom Colby's pass he had stolen showed its owner once sported a rather fine beard.

"Seeya, Colby."

Suddenly klaxons started wailing at Arkham. Several red lights on the walls surrounding Arkham started flashing. They must have found the guard. Alcott turned around. His face rapidly morphed and turned white and his clothes turned in on themselves to form a purple suit. The Joker grinned at him and raised a purple gun with little flowers painted on it to Alfred's head…