Golden Bat – Chapter Five
Bond looked at the man in front of him and immediately turned around and started walking in the other direction.
There was a swishing sound and Batman appeared in front of him. "You wait there a moment."
Bond raised an eyebrow. "You're in my way."
"You've stolen and killed in that Wayne Tech warehouse."
"In self defence," said Bond. "Watch I don't do the same to you. Now move."
"Are you working for the Joker?"
"I don't know what you are talking about. Get out of my way."
Bond took a step forward. Batman stayed where he was. A fist swished out from under Batman's cloak and nearly took Bond unawares. Nearly. He dodged it, he didn't know how, and aimed a kick at Batman, which Batman somehow evaded.
He pulled out a gun and aimed it at Batman when a Batarang knocked the gun out of his hand. He winced and backed away down the alleyway.
Another batarang whistled through the air aimed at Bond's head. Bond moved his head slightly but just enough so it passed him but parted his hair. He turned and ran towards the end of the alleyway. There was another swishing sound and Batman appeared in front of him. This time Bond was ready for him and he picked up a dustbin lid in passing and threw it at Batman. It spun through the air and caught the dark knight off guard, catching him in the chest and throwing him to the ground.
Bond ran back and picked up his gun in passing and ran into the street in front of a cab. The taxi screeched to a halt centimetres from him. Bond ran to the side of the cab and dragged the driver out and got in the car. He ignored the Italian swearing from the cabby and pressed his foot down. He was reassured by the throaty growl of the car engine.
Thump! His windscreen was suddenly covered in a black material. Batman had landed on the hood of his car. He was tempted to shoot him off the hood but Batman had not threatened his life. At least not yet. He saw a fire truck passing in the opposite direction and he did a handbrake turn that nearly, but not quite, threw Batman from the car. He raced up to the side of the truck and opened the door and grabbed the side of the fire truck.
Bond leapt out of the speeding car leaving the taxicab without a driver and with a bat clinging to the front. He clambered up the cold steel of the fire ladder towards the cab at the front and looked behind him. Batman had climbed into the taxicab and bought it to a safe halt.
The British agent climbed along the side of the fire truck and reached the drivers door. One handed he pulled out his pistol and tapped it on the window.
"If you could stop a moment please?"
"What the hell is going on here?"
"Stop the truck and get out, now."
"No."
"Do you recognise this?"
"It's a gun."
"It's a gun and I'm the one with it telling you to stop."
The truck screeched to a halt in a cloud of dust. Bond jumped down and clambered into the front seat. Several rather annoyed looking firemen, whom nevertheless had some interesting comments to make on Bond's parentage, left the truck and Bond got in the seat.
In the distance he could start to hear sirens. Police cars and approaching fast. He felt his pulse rise and the old excitement enter his soul. Today looked like being interesting.
He pressed the accelerator down and the fire truck started down the road. He had to get out of here, and quickly. He looked about the huge truck. Possibly not the most incognito way to get about town but at least there were few things that could stop it.
He could taste iron and blood in his mouth and his vision was suddenly full of stars. God, he didn't even see him this time. This man was some kind of ghost and he had a punch like Jaws. He looked to his left and another punch hissed towards him. This time he dodged it and he grabbed Batman's hand and dragged the dark knight into the cab with him. The fire truck started weaving in the road, sending cars spinning in all directions.
Bond elbowed Batman in the neck but his Kevlar gorget stopped most of the force. This was getting to be a bad habit. Punching Batman was like punching rock, as nothing seemed to shake him.
Batman sent a blow to Bond's right arm and his arm was suddenly useless. He felt pins and needles in it. He had hit a nerve centre Bond guessed. Still he could shoot just as well with his left hand.
This fire truck was an unhealthy place to stay in. He kicked viciously at Batman sending him spinning out of the fire truck. The Bat was holding on one handed onto the door his feet sending sparks flying on the tarmac road below. Bond kicked the door again but Batman somehow stayed clinging on.
His arm was beginning to get some life back into it. He looked in front of him. Roadworks and he was going too fast to dodge them. He looked at the door and saw that Batman was no longer holding onto it. He looked through the windscreen and his heart nearly skipped a beat as he saw Batman glaring through it.
Only one thing to do. He would have to rely on Batman's hero mentality. He pointed the truck towards a group of workmen and leapt out of the door and rolled in the road to slow his speed down. He scraped his knee and scuffed his hand but otherwise he was pretty much unhurt. He winced a bit as he stood up.
He looked over at the truck and could see Batman clamber into the fire truck to try and get some control back. Inches short of the workmen Batman halted the fire truck.
Bond just as quickly pulled over another cab and was heading quickly away in the other direction, just one anonymous cab among the hundreds on the streets. He looked nervously over his shoulder for a few minutes but he seemed to have lost him.
Now the adrenaline had run off he started to consider his injuries. His arm was pretty much back to normal now. What had Batman done to it? He must have hit a nerve cluster or something. He had several bruises and his jaw would ache for a while but otherwise he had gotten off lightly. He got out the pen drive and looked at it. This information had better be worth all the trouble he had taken…
An hour later Bruce Wayne was standing outside Wayne Corp headquarters. He ducked down a side alley and got out a small mobile phone that operated on a coded frequency that only a few phones could intercept. He pressed a button and got a ringing tone.
"R, this is B," he said.
"This is R."
"I want you to run some research on the man I caught breaking into Wayne Tech today. I'm downloading his picture now." He pressed a button on the phone. "Run it past the Oracle as well. I want his name and who he is yesterday."
"Sure thing B. Catch you later."
He clicked the phone shut and walked into Wayne Corp Headquarters.
As he got in the lift he thought about what had happened so far and by the time he arrived at his office he was nearly shaking with rage because his company suddenly seemed to be not his anymore.
"Good afternoon, Mr Wayne," Miranda said, smiling at him. "Can I get you a coffee?"
"Get two in. I want to see the Head of Wayne Tech in my office now, Damian Alvey."
"He might be busy, I don't have his schedule here," said Miranda looking at the Outlook calendar.
"I don't care. Get him. Get him now."
"This is unlike you, Mr Wayne, all businesslike. Have I shown you my latest pictures of my nephew? He looks adorable in his little superman suit."
Bruce shuddered. "Miranda, just for once…"
Miranda stared up at him her bottom lip just starting to flutter.
"Okay! Okay! Just don't look at me like that, but get Alvey here now!"
He slammed the door to his office and sat down still quivering with a barely suppressed rage. Something was going badly wrong with Wayne Tech, that was for sure. He didn't know who that man was he tangled with outside his factory but something was seriously wrong. He made it a matter of policy that Wayne Corp guards were not armed. He made it a matter of policy that Wayne Corp guards were not thugs. And he made it matter of policy that Wayne Corp guards did not shoot to kill. Something was going badly wrong in the Wayne Tech side of his business and he wanted to find out what it was. Before more people died…
There was a hesitant knocking on his door and Miranda peered in.
"Mr Alvey to see you Mr Wayne," she said. "I've got your coffees here, do you want any biscuits with that? I've got cookies I baked at home for you?"
Bruce forced himself to smile. "Thank you, Miranda, that would be lovely. I'm sorry if I shouted at you before."
She visibly relaxed. "That's okay, Mr Wayne. We all have a bad day sometimes. You know I forgot to water my plants the other day and…"
"Thank you. Thank you!" said Bruce. "Close the door on your way out."
Damian Alvey walked up to Bruce. He was a tall good-looking man with light brown hair. He was a keen yachtsman and he always had a suntanned weather beaten face.
"Hey Bruce," said Damian, putting out his hand to shake Bruce's, "what's up? This important? I've got a meeting with our German suppliers in twenty minutes."
Bruce didn't take his hand and he didn't smile. "Why are there armed guards at my Wayne Tech warehouses?"
"Hey, and I thought you were challenging me to another game of golf," said Damian, smiling easily. "Has your handicap improved since our last game?"
"Just answer the question."
"We've got some serious technology on site now. We need the guards."
Bruce raised one hand and breathed deeply. "My policy has never been to employ guards with guns."
"Chill out Bruce, the company's running at a profit isn't it? Anyway they are justified. We had a break in just recently. The guards chased him off."
"Two guards dead and three hospitalised?"
Damian shrugged. "Shows how much we need them."
Bruce turned back to his computer and brought up some files. "Their CV's show they are all ex-cons."
"I thought you were an equal opportunity employer?"
"Robbery with violence, murder, multiple homicide," said Bruce, reading down the list. "Two have known associations with both the Joker and Two-face. They read like the sort of gang Batman would take down."
"They are guards, not angels."
"I want them off my site and I want an explanation for all the items that have been disappearing from Wayne Tech in the past two months, namely the submersible and the rockets."
For the first time Damian stopped smiling. "That really does not concern you, Bruce."
"I am not happy with the way Wayne Tech is being run."
"With respect; you are not a businessman, you are the owner. Go back to your parties and fine wines and leave this side of the business to me."
Bruce shot to his feet and pointed at Damian. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again or you'll find yourself out of a job and I'll make sure you never work in this state again!"
Miranda was just bustling in with some more cookies and coffee. "I'll come back."
Damian put out his hands. "Chill! Chill! I'll get a report to you in the morning with a full breakdown of what we do."
"I don't want a report, I want to visit the site now."
"That's not really a good …"
"Now."
"Okay, okay, you win." He looked at his watch and sighed with disappointment. "It'll have to be tomorrow morning anyway; it's 5 o'clock now, we shut up shop at 5. You've got your charity function in two hours. Sponsored by my section. Wayne Tech. You'd better get your tux on."
Bruce Wayne was furious at being outmanoeuvred. "Okay, okay. Tomorrow morning then. If I find one thing out of place you are out of job."
Damian didn't smile. "Tomorrow morning you'll find out what Wayne Tech really does, sir."