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

Chapter Nineteen – Hostile Takeover

The beast that was once Bruce was thinking. It had memories of something. Of a life beyond what it was doing now. His memories seemed to be fading. He was huddled on a window ledge a hundred foot from a busy urban road.

"I am Bruce. I am Batman," he muttered to himself. "Criminals must pay…"

He looked down below and could see a man being mugged by three men. "Criminal." He hissed and leapt off the parapet. He had no real physical form now, more shadow than anything. He could still be seen and make his presence known though. He leapt into the middle of the group and hissed at one of them. The man fell to his knees in terror. Another mugger shot at him, the bullet passing harmlessly through him. He concentrated, swept an arm up and the mugger went flying through the air and landed with a crash on the hood of a yellow taxi, shattering the windscreen with the impact. The other mugger dropped the bag and ran off; the victim picked up his bag and ran off in the other direction. Bruce stalked up the street and suddenly stopped as he saw his reflection in the window.

He looked even more demonic in his appearance now. A black cowl covered him completely. His eyes were red dots and his face was completely empty. Insubstantial teeth could be just about seen. "I am not a demon I am Bruce…" he said. He walked up to the glass and tried to say it again. "I am not a demon I am Br…" He stopped, his mind draining away from him. "I am not a demon I am Batman." As he watched he seemed to shimmer in and out of existence. A greenish tinge could be seen around his edges.

Doter was on the Nebuchadnezzar. He was currently scanning the area around the ship for mechanical squids. So far they had not been noticed, which was lucky considering how long they had been plugged into the system. He was feeling tired as this had been a long trip so far. He rubbed his eyes and reached down for a coffee. Well, they called it a coffee. One of the things he really missed from the system was the variety of food you could get. Outside the matrix you couldn't just walk into a Walmart or a Starbucks and order a latte. He grimaced as he drank the coffee. It was rumoured that the coffee was made of some sort of mould and rust. After drinking it he thought they must have missed out on the rust.

"Clink."

He turned around. What was that noise? He couldn't see anything different. His face was caught in the eerie green glow of the radar. He pressed a button and light flooded the deck he was on. Nothing. He switched the light off and turned back to the screen. It was easier to see the radar without a background light.

"Hee! Hee!"

It was a chuckle? He had heard a chuckle? He switched the light on, ripped the earphones off his head and stood up. Still nothing there. He picked up the communicator.

"Tank? Tank, you there?"

"This is Tank; wassup my man?" crackled the communicator.

"It's Doter here. I'm on the communications level. Is there anyone else up here with me?"

"Don't you know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I did."

"Just lemme check…" There was a sound of buttons being pressed. "Nope, just your sweet self. Morpheus, Trinity, Alfred and Tim are plugged in at the moment. The rest of the crew are catching up on some shuteye. You feeling lonely there, boy?"

"Just getting jumpy, I could have sworn I heard…" Was the last thing he said. He looked down and could see a bloody metal spike protruding through his chest.

The Joker, now in Bruce's body, giggled as he impaled Doter. He stared at the blood-drenched metal, fascinated by the way the blood fell to the floor, and giggled again.

"You killed him…" said Mortive.

The Joker grinned at her. "What did you expect? A gossip, a coffee, and a marshmallow?" He picked up Doter's cooling coffee and drank a bit of it. He spat it out. "Coffee has not improved since I've been gone." He clapped his hands together and danced a little jig. "Oh I haven't had so much fun in a dog's age." He grabbed Mortive by the hand and dragged her from the deck. "Come on, Harley old girl. Time's a wastin'."

Tim, Morpheus and Alfred walked out of the offices. A man in a very expensive Equilibro suit stood in front of them.

"Who are you people and what are you doing in my office?"

Tim looked at Morpheus who said, "I am sorry to inconvenience you sir, we are from IT. We are here to fix your…" His eyes scanned the room, "printers."

"That explains the clothes." He looked in disdain at the leather coats and expensive sunglasses. "Well I'm glad you're here, it saves me logging a call. I can't print a word. Nothing comes out at all."

"Have you added any paper?" interjected Tim.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not in IT, that's your job. I know everything about computers, I've got one at home, you know?"

"Let me guess, you tried to fix it yourself?"

He perked up. "Yes, I did try to fix it myself! I unplugged the cable in the back and plugged it into my computer." He frowned slightly. "Now no-one can print to it…"

Morpheus pushed Tim in front of him. "You should log a call, sir. We have to be going…"

"I need this fixed…" Another, tall man with dark hair and a dishevelled suit tried to surreptitiously sneak past. The man in the expensive suit saw him and turned round and looked at his watch. "Mr Anderson. Either you choose to be at your desk on time from this day forth, or you choose to find yourself another job. Do I make myself clear?"

While he was distracted they filed out of the office quickly. Trinity gave the tall man a double-take as she went past him; he was cute, she thought. Word quickly got round that IT was in the office and office workers jumped out of their cubicles like rabbits, all waving bits of paper and asking questions like: "How do I design my window box in Word?" and "Why can't I fax any e-mails?" and "Why does my black and white printer not print in colour?"

"Go! Go! Go!" said Tim. They got the lift to the ground floor and then they ran out of the office block and past the surprised looking security guard. Tim turned to Morpheus. "Never, ever say you are in IT to a group of office workers. Tell them we're doing an asbestos survey, searching for rats, closing off the building because of the plague, anything but IT!"

The Joker wriggled through a ventilation duct in the Nebuchadnezzar. He giggled softly to himself. In the unlikely event he ever became a ship designer the first thing he would do was make the ventilation system too narrow to crawl through. He was approaching the sleeping quarters. He looked behind him and could see Harley there. Admiring his toned backside no doubt. He giggled again. Batman certainly kept a nice looking body. He would have to add a few embellishments to it before he handed it back to him, if he did. He was thinking of scratching a Joker's face on his cheek. The only thing that put him off rather was that it would hurt. He gently unscrewed the ventilation cover and dropped soundlessly into the room. He motioned Mortive to be quiet and smiled happily to himself. All asleep, all quiet, all to be dead.

He got a metal spike from his pocket and raised it above the first sleeping victim when for some reason, he woke up. The man was huge, at least seven foot tall. With a yelling sound he grabbed the Joker's hand and stopped the spike an inch from his heart. The other two in the room woke up at this and got to their feet.

"Oh mittens!" said the Joker.

"Tank, this is Morpheus. We need a reading on where Bruce is now."

"You'd better hurry there. His code is getting very flaky."

"That does not answer my question…" said Morpheus, struggling to keep his temper in check.

"He's about 400 yards from you now."

Morpheus looked down the busy Gotham Street. "I cannot see him."

"Not along. Up."

Morpheus looked up and could see a vague black shadow clinging to a gargoyle. It looked insubstantial. In the distance he could hear some sirens, at the sound the shadow leapt into the air and a ghostly cord shot from his hand and he swung away towards the noise.

"Come on, let's go!" said Tim. He reached to his belt and got a grappling gun out. In seconds he was following Bruce, soaring through the streets.

Alfred looked at Morpheus. "We'll take the streets I think."

"Agreed."

The Joker aimed a punch at the big man's chin, which connected with a sickening crack sound. He swung around on one foot and kicked the other man in the crotch whilst simultaneously singing La Marseille, the French national anthem.

"Allons enfants de la patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivé!" he warbled. A man punched him in the stomach, thankfully stopping his singing for several seconds. He doubled up in pain and kicked the man in the elbow and then carried on singing. "Entendez-vous dans les campagnes, Mugir ces féroces soldats? Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras." At each word he punched and kicked his way through the Nebuchadnezzar crew. He was fast, strong and had no mercy.

In several seconds they were all three down for the count. He changed the words into English. "They come right to our arms. To slit the throats of our sons, our friends!"

He smiled up at Mortive who had been watching the fight in shock. "I do so love national anthems, they are so bloodthirsty!" He got another two metal spikes from his pocket and started juggling with them. "Eenie Meanie Moe, catch a tiger by its toe, if it hollers…" There was a groaning sound from one of the men below and he threw a spike at him…

Tim was trying his best to keep Bruce in sight. It was difficult at the best of times; now, in his insubstantial state, it was practically impossible. Below him he could see a bank robbery in progress. Three men with submachine guns came racing out of the bank. Batman dropped to the ground in front of them as bullets started to rip up the street. He punched at one of the men. His fist went straight through him. The sheer shock factor made the man drop his gun. His friend turned around and started shooting at Batman. The bullets went through him, making little rippling effects and throwing wisps of green smoke out. Batman stalked towards him and tried to kick him. An insubstantial leg came out of the phantom and tried to connect. Nothing happened. Tim dropped on top of the man, knocking him out; he grabbed a gun with his hand and threw it at the other man, knocking him out, spun on one foot and kicked the other man into a mailbox - out for the count.

"Bruce, this is Tim!"

"Brruuuccee, who is Brruuuce?"

"You're Batman? Remember, Batman? Do you remember me?"

Tim stared at the phantom. He was getting more and more weak. He could just make out his eyes under the cowl.

"I don't know you…" At that he reached an insubstantial hand under his cowl and pointed a ghostly grappling hook at the sky. In seconds he had gone…