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 Twenty – Hostile Takeover

Tank looked up from the screen. He could hear a whistling sound coming from the other side of the deck. The Joker, in Bruce's body, came dancing in. He had found a gun and he was pointing it at Tank. Tank put his finger above the alarm button.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" crooned the Joker.

Tank pressed the alarm button. A klaxon started wailing throughout the ship. The Joker cocked his head to one side and started laughing. "And who do you expect to come?" He looked around eagerly at the other doors on the deck. He slapped his head. "Forgot to say! I've killed all your buddies!"

Mortive walked in behind him and pointed a gun at Tank. Tank braced himself and waited for the shot. It never came. "No! No! My dear," said the Joker. "We need you alive. You're going to plug me into the matrix and my dear departed body as well. If I come back I at least want a decent body. Look at these abs!" He raised his top to show a well-toned muscular stomach. Even in his two days out of the matrix Bruce had exercised tirelessly to bring his body up to approaching what it was in the matrix. He shuddered. "Give me a decent bit of flab any day. Harley here is my insurance." He pointed to Mortive. "Any problems, Harley my dear, shoot him."

He sat down on the chair and grinned at Tank. "Plug me in, let me see those green, mean numbers again."

Tim was still following Bruce. He was starting to have trouble even seeing him in front of him. Below him he could hear the screech of tyres. He looked below and could see that Morpheus, Trinity and Alfred had hijacked a taxi and were following below.

There he was, standing on a cornice. Tim landed next to him.

"Bruce, we need to talk."

"I don't know Bruce…" The sound was like a whisper. Tim had to concentrate to even see him.

"I don't care. Join me on the ground." Tim pointed to an alleyway below where he could see Morpheus, Trinity and Alfred standing.

"Why?"

"We need to chat."

"I don't even know you…"

"I don't care. We know you. Surely you can't be entirely gone that you don't recognise that man?" He pointed down to Alfred. "He has looked after you your whole life."

"Alfffrreeeddd?" At that the ghostly Batman leapt off the parapet and landed next to Alfred. Tim did the same but slowed his ascent with a line. He landed with a thud next to him.

"Master Bruce, what has happened to you?" Alfred took off his sunglasses and stared with sorrow at the phantom.

"Mr Joker. We seem to keep meeting up."

"Save the sweet talk for later, darling. Morpheus is in the matrix, and what is more, I know exactly where he is." He looked like the Joker again now that he was back in the matrix. He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket. "Harley my dear…" There was a voice on the other end. "Sorry, Mortive. Horrible name that, have you thought of changing it? Where is baldy?" He nodded and raised his eyebrows at Agents Smith and Brown. "Okay, I promise I won't call you Harley any more." He listened again for a few seconds. "Okay, cross my heart and hope to die if I call you Harley again; just tell me where Morpheus is now." He listened for a bit more. "Harley wants to talk to you…" He handed the phone to Smith.

"This is Smith." His face was like it was carved from stone. "You are not in a position to negotiate, Mortive." There was a raised voice on the other end. "Okay, if you tell us where Morpheus is now we will not target your family." He gave a rare smile. "Consider the debt repaid; we will not speak again, your family is safe." He clicked the phone shut. "We know where Morpheus is."

Morpheus was looking around the street worriedly. They walked quickly towards the taxi. The ghostly Batman was next to them.

"Why should I follow you?" he whispered.

Alfred was walking next to him. "We need to take you home. To safety."

Tim whispered to Morpheus. "How do we get him back into his body?"

"No idea. We need to get the Joker plugged into the matrix somehow. The thing is, if we plug him in he will be in here with us and judging by previous examples it would not be a healthy combination."

Morpheus looked up. Three passers-by warped into the Joker and the two agents. "Too late, Morpheus. Oh is that Batty with you? He looks like a stiff wind and he would disappear. Now where did I pack my vacuum cleaner?" He started patting his pockets.

"Get in the taxi!" shouted Tim. "Get going, I'll hold them off."

Smith and Brown raced towards Morpheus. Tim threw two batarangs at them; the agents blurred and dodged them. He appeared to blur himself as he kicked the agents through a nearby shop window and aimed a punch at the Joker. The Joker grabbed his fist and twisted his arm, spinning the boy into the road and into the path of a truck. His body twisted in mid air as he kicked the radiator of the truck and used its momentum to propel himself back towards the Joker. He punched the Joker and sent him flying towards Agents Smith and Brown who were just getting to their feet. They all went flying through the back of the shop in a cloud of dust.

He looked behind him and saw the taxi about to drive off when the taxi started to float. Joker. Looking back at the shop he saw the Joker was standing there with his hands up willing the car into the air. Somehow he had to distract him. Smith and Brown drew their guns and started shooting. His enhanced reflexes made him twist and turn in midair. Simultaneously he threw three explosive batarangs at them. Smith and Brown shot theirs out of the sky but the Joker was too busy concentrating on the taxi to pay it any heed. It blew him through the shop window for the second time that day…

The taxi dropped five feet to the ground. Tim cartwheeled onto the roof and the car roared off with the boy attached to the taxi sign. Morpheus was weaving through traffic at speed. He looked behind him and could see nothing. They ran a red light, losing a wing mirror against a red sedan, and raced past a huge truck, which suddenly tried to run them off the road. Tim looked up and could see the Joker driving the lorry. When the lorry tried to ram them again from behind he leapt from the roof of the taxi and onto the front. The Joker's sick grin was behind the windshield. The clown raised a hand and he could see a gun in it. The end of the gun looked like a black hole to eternity. He threw himself to one side as the Joker fired and the boy screamed in pain as the bullet scraped past his shoulder. He twisted into the cabin and immediately started punching the Joker with his one good arm. The Joker started hitting back.

The Joker was too fast and strong and his punches were hitting home. His mouth tasted coppery with the blood and his vision was lined with black dots. Suddenly the Joker gasped in fear. A black ghostly Batman appeared in the cab and hissed at the Joker. The clown tried to punch him but his punches just went straight through him. The Batman punched at him, he still held enough physical presence in this world to hit him through the door of the truck and into the road. A car just narrowly missed hitting him. The Batman floated ghost-like through the windshield and back into the taxi that was keeping pace with them. He abandoned the lorry himself and leapt onto the roof of the cab, and then lowered himself through the back window into the car.

"Thank heavens, Master Timothy your…" said Alfred, looking at Tim. "My, my, your arm is injured, I'd…"

"I'll be fine. Keep driving," he said. He studied his arm. No bones broken. No major arteries cut. He twisted his arm in a circle and winced with the pain. Not perfect but still useable. "Where is the nearest exit point?"

"Two blocks from here. Ground floor shop."

A car to the left started trying to push the taxi off the road. It was Agents Smith and Brown. Tim got a dozen small caltrops from his utility belt and threw it at the tyres of the car. Caltrops are small spiked balls; whatever way they fall there is always a spike pointing upwards. The tyres blew and the car hit a lamppost with some considerable force.

Morpheus was on the phone. "Tank, activate the shop exit point now."

"Yes sir, but there is something you should…"

"Not now Tank, just get us out of here."

"But sir!"

"Do it!"

"Sir."

Morpheus twisted the wheel of the car and it screeched to a halt outside the shop. The doors flew open and they raced towards the shop door. The demonic looking Batman was gliding through the air next to them. They raced down the shop aisles and towards the customer service desk. The face of the man at the customer service desk warped and changed to the Joker's face.

"Hello, guys and gals. I can only accept returns if you have a receipt?" The phone started ringing next to him. "This call for any of you?" He put his hand on the phone and started to crush it. Morpheus and Trinity pulled out their guns and started shooting at him. The Joker dodged all the bullets. Unseen by all, Batman glided to the phone and using the last of his strength picked it up and grabbed hold of the Joker at the same time. There was a flash of green and they disappeared. Just before the handle fell to the table, Morpheus picked it up and disappeared. Trinity did the same. The phone landed with a clank on the table.

"After you?" said Tim to Alfred.

Alfred picked up the phone and disappeared and Tim followed in a sea of numbers…

Tim opened his eyes to see a strange sight. The Joker was sitting up, talking to Mortive, who was holding a gun on him.

"Please, Harley my dear, put the gun down."

"I told you my name is Mortive."

"Put the gun down, Mortive," said Morpheus.

"Morpheus, you're…"

"Alive, yes. I know why you did this…"

She dropped the gun and started crying. "I didn't want to, I…"

Alfred picked up her gun and backed away.

Tank stood up. "They killed the rest of the crew sir. There was nothing I could…"

Morpheus grimaced and picked up a gun and pointed it at the Joker. Bruce walked in front of the gun. "I thought your society had laws and regulations?"

"He must pay for that."

"Pay he will, but it is not our decision what he pays." The Joker leapt towards Morpheus. His body was still not properly developed because of the years he had spent in the matrix and he was slow. Bruce, who had been exercising constantly since he first woke up, grabbed him and forced him into an arm lock. He swiftly tied him up.

"Bruce, is that really you?"

He looked up from the Joker. "It's really me. It's strange, as soon I was back here I suddenly remembered everything. I was nearly gone in there. I could feel my thoughts, my very soul disintegrating in front of me. If you hadn't come back when you did I would have been nothing. Not even a thought on a breeze. Thanks for coming back."

"No problem." He glared at the Joker, now in his proper body. "What do we do with the clown?"

"He will be tried by the council, as will Mortive," said Morpheus. "In the meantime we will take them back and put them in the stockade."

The Joker giggled. "And just how long do you think your stockade will hold me? I've escaped from more prisons than you've had jelly babies."

Bruce looked at him implacably. "He is probably right."

"You know, you can probably never return to the Matrix. Your form would not survive long there now. If you need a job in Zion…"

Bruce grinned. "Prison officer." The Joker paled. "Now doesn't that sound like fun?"