Batman and the associated characters are owned by DC. James Bond and the associated characters were created by Ian Fleming. With grateful thanks for cmar for beta reading this chapter and all my reviewers! All reviews welcome!

Golden Bat – Chapter Two

"No!" He gunned the bike and side swiped it into the two thugs throwing them into the back of the van. He looked down at the body in the back of the van. There were rents and blood in his clothing where the bullets had hit home.

"Hello Alfred," said another voice. Alfred looked up and could see the body hanging in the back remove the black mask and Bruce's reassuring features appear. "I didn't think you were on call today?"

"Yes, well, problems with the rota."

"You couldn't drop me off at the car could you? I've got to pay a visit to Tony Abretti."

Alfred looked down at his watch. Ten minutes till the bread will burn. "You can walk to the car. This is my evening off, sir."

James Bond stretched his legs as he walked off the plane. He was feeling fairly light-headed from the in-flight champagne but not enough that it affected his judgement. He looked down at the bit of paper that was in his hand. On it was a hastily written name and phone number of one of the airhostesses. He even flirted on autopilot now. With the nature of his job he took love where he could find it. This assignment did not promise enough time for that, though. He crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor, there would be others, there always were. This looked like being just a simple hunt and kill assignment, with any luck he would be back in London in 24 hours.

There was something about the assignment that made him uneasy, though. Not the being used as an assassin part. He had no qualms about ending a life of evil, but the whole assignment seemed too rushed and in his experience the less information he had to go on the more things would go wrong.

As he walked out of the plane he could see the Gotham skyline and a smoke like haze hanging over it. The skyscrapers looked like rotting teeth and the smell was similar. He knew this town had a band of guardians that did not look kindly on murder. No matter. He would not be here long enough for them to notice him.

Now he was here he had to meet up with Leiter and his contact. Having diplomatic immunity meant he had just breezed through customs, which was fortunate considering what he was carrying…

Bond clicked open his mobile phone and scrolled down to Leiter's number. "Leiter, it's Bond. We need to meet up."

He listened for a few moments and then nodded. "I'll meet you at the Gotham Plaza in thirty minutes." He clicked the phone shut

He walked out of the airport to a line of yellow cabs outside. Bond opened the cab door and got in.

"Gotham Plaza and there will be an extra $100 in it for you if you do it in ten minutes." First rule of being an agent if you have to be somewhere at a certain time, be there early to check the place out.

Bruce Wayne was sitting in the Batmobile. He put the cowl over his head and immediately felt the change that signalled Batman had arrived. Now to pay a visit on Tony Abretti. He pressed his foot down and heard the reassuring sound of the V8 engines catching. He had placed a small radio transmitter on Abretti before he had been knocked out. He pressed a button the dashboard and a screen lit up with a small light indicating where he was.

The Batmobile roared off up the street.

"You in a hurry there, man?"

"Just keep driving, please."

"You sound English to me?"

Why does everyone assume English? "Scottish actually."

"You one of those guys who wears a skirt?"

Bond looked out the window. He had memorised a Gotham street plan on the plane before he landed. "We are not all William Wallace. This is not the way to Gotham Plaza, you're going to the docks."

"Short cut, man." The taxi screeched to a halt in a deserted alleyway. Gotham docks was just at the end. He turned around and pointed a small snub-nosed pistol at Bond. "If you've got a hundred to blow on a cab ride you got more. Let me see some greenbacks, boy, or else I shoot you and dump your sorry ass in the harbour."

"Is this the traditional Gotham welcome?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to make a livin', boy. Don't make me shoot you, you'll ruin the upholstery."

Bond suddenly concentrated on the job in hand. The man had a small goatee and several beads of sweat on his forehead. The gun hand was shaking. That was not a good sign. He was clearly an amateur, he would most likely shoot him in a nervous twitch rather than professionally. The gun was a small snub nosed, six-shooter. He couldn't see the bullets from here but he had to assume it was loaded. He had not the space to move out of its way.

Bond reached casually into his jacket pocket.

"Careful mister. One wrong move and I'll blow your head clean off."

"Calm down. I'm getting my wallet." Bond could feel the reassuring weight of his own gun. It was in his shoulder holster though and from where it was now it might as well be a million miles away. Damn it, he could not believe a street thug had the jump on him.

"Easy…"

At this range a bullet would go straight through Bond and through his nice upholstery. Bond had seen too much death not too imagine himself writhing with pain as the bullet struck. "See, it is just a wallet…"

"How much you got? Let me see the green!"

Bond carefully opened the wallet; the man reached an arm towards it, and Bond acted. He grabbed hold of the man's gun with one hand and yanked it towards him whilst pointing it towards the seat next to him.

There was a huge bang, deafening in the enclosed space, and Bond elbowed the thug in the face. The gun fell to the floor of the car amongst all the old cigarette stubs and sweets wrappers. The taxi driver didn't flinch much at this and turned around in his seat to get a better attack at Bond.

Bond was an exceptional fighter. He had been trained by the best and had years of field experience, however no one had taught him how to fight in a Gotham cab. He could not get the leverage to knock the other man out.

In the struggle the taxi driver put his foot on the accelerator and car lurched out of the alleyway. It was that which saved the thug from being knocked out. Bond lurched back on the seat, the upholstery still smouldering from the bullet strike. The car scraped along the wall, sparks flying. Bond recovered his balance and got the thug in a neck lock.

The car jolted violently as it went over several chains lying on the road. He looked out the window and gasped in shock. The car was heading towards the edge of the dock. He tried the door. Locked. His stomach felt like it was holding a gallon of cold water as the car lurched towards the edge.

He cursed under his breath. The thug was knocked out, his foot still on the accelerator. The car was heading towards a watery grave.

Bond struggled to get to the front of the car by squeezing between the seats. The tobacco stains on the seat would give the dry cleaners some serious work on his suit. He yanked one-handed on the hand brake and the car started screeching to a halt. Smoke erupted from the tyres filling the air with the smell of burning rubber. The engine was still running. Bond tried to push the man off the accelerator.

This would be a really bad time for the thug to wake up, but unfortunately this is just what he did. He tried to elbow Bond. He ducked but space was limited and it caught him on the forehead making him dizzy. Bond was pretty much in the front seat now and he punched the man viciously in the throat, making the driver turn a mottled shade of purple. Bond kicked the door open and threw himself out before the cab lurched over the edge of the dock and fell into the water. Only his parachute training made him roll with the impact and prevented a serious injury.

Bond got to his feet.

"Bon voyage," he said as he straightened his tie. The car was at the surface. There was a big belching sound as water rushed into the cab and it started sinking rapidly. Bond could see the thug looking up at him imploringly before he sank with the car. Tough break for him, but he shouldn't have started what he couldn't finish. Bond turned around when he saw a small flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

There was a splashing sound in the harbour and Bond could see a loose line flap against the side of one of the dock warehouses.

He looked down with surprise at where the car was rapidly sinking. There was some huge bubbles as the air pockets in the car rose to the surface and then nothing. Just a rapidly increasing circle of cigarette stubs.

Suddenly a boy dressed in a red costume and with a small mask came to the surface with the thug in his arms. With a strength belying his size he dragged the thug up the dock face to where Bond was standing.

This must be one of Gotham's guardians. One of the trainees, probably Robin, he thought.

"Hey, call an ambulance, man," said Robin as he started CPR on the thug.

Robin was busy trying to get a pulse from the man. Bond reached into his jacket pocket for his gun. It made sense to kill Robin now. If he had to terminate Bruce Wayne the only people who could probably stop him was these costumed vigilantes and he had the edge on one now…

Batman slowed his car down outside Tony Abretti's house. He finished a quick conversation with Gordon over the phone. They had enough to bring Abretti in but he knew he had a small army in there with him. Gordon was loathe to risk his men's lives to bring him in especially if he could use Batman to do the same job…

The roof slid open and he fired a grappling hook to the top floor. The motor in the device quickly winched him up three floors to the penthouse where Abretti was. He balanced on the window ledge; the wind pulling on his cloak and threatening to pull him off the building. He quietly levered the window open and with a cracking sound it opened.

Noiselessly he crawled into the room. Despite his best efforts the wind outside rustled the paper on the desk and was just about to slam the door. With a lightning quick throw of his batarang he jammed the door open. Like a ghost he walked to the doorway. He listened for half a minute. No sounds of life outside. No coughs, no shuffles of feet and no talking. He sniffed. He could smell no cigarette smoke, no cooking smells or sweat. There was the slight aroma of coffee. South American, Chilean if he had to guess. Probably drunk in this room not five minutes previously.

He walked into the well-lit hallway and looked up and down the corridor. A door opened at the end of the corridor and a small child looked out and immediately screamed as she saw what looked like Dracula's older, nastier brother standing in the corridor. Batman knew a hundred ways to silence an enemy at a distance, but none to silence a child.

"MOMMMMYYYY!" She yelled. "MONSTER!"

Batman raised one finger to his mouth to try and silence her. This did not work. What normally silenced children? A toy! He checked his utility belt. Gas pellets, grappling hooks, exploding batarangs, bugs (not the crawling kind, sadly) and several drugged darts. It was tempting to use the darts, he thought as the sound, which he thought had reached its limit somehow went up twenty decibels.

"DADDDDYYY!" she yelled, going a curious shade of red. Now her eyes and nose were starting to leak tears and Batman didn't want to know what from her nose, but it was a disconcerting yellow colour. She looked like an extra from "The Exorcist".

Another door opened in the hallway and a small boy joined in the wailing, he couldn't reach his sister's decibel level but it wasn't through lack of trying. This was starting to go from bad to worse. He had enough gadgets and weapons to take out a small army but none to entertain two small children. He could hear the sounds of doors opening and men running up the stairs towards him. He couldn't fight with children present. He could not allow innocents to be hurt.

He looked above him. There was an attic hatch. Batman did what a lot of men did when encountering small noisy children. He escaped. He leapt for the attic hatch and in seconds had clambered into the small roof space. The wailing sound from the children diminished and he heard the even less reassuring sound of men pounding up the corridor.

This was shortly followed by the sound of a gun's safety catch being turned off. To Batman's trained ears it sounded like an AK47. Fear crawled down his spine like an icy spider as he thought it might be the last sound he ever heard.