Batman and the associated characters are owned by DC. James Bond and the associated characters were created by Ian Fleming. With thanks to Cmar for beta reading this for me and thanks to all the reviewers and readers so far! All reviews welcome.
Golden Bat – Chapter Twelve
The nano-droids scattered around the complex, killing technicians and guards indiscriminately.
"Come, Jaws, we must leave Mr Bond and his friends to their fate." Blofeld and Jaws ran to the lift. Behind them a technician tried to follow them but was consumed by a grey mass of nano-droids.
Bond, Wayne and Catwoman were trapped behind the glass wall. Bruce Wayne kicked the glass wall surrounding them and it shattered. A swarm of nano droids started to stream in towards them.
"Our situation has not improved," said Bond.
"We need to get out of here, boys," said Selina.
The nano-droids had consumed some of the guards and technicians and reformed into a huge grey cloud above them. A few luckless technicians tried to run towards the lift and the cloud of nano droids gathered around them in a menacing black mist.
"We need to reactivate the particle accelerator. The magnetic fields will disrupt the nano-droids," said Bruce. "I hope," he muttered under his breath afterwards.
Bond leapt off the walkway next to the lift and fell the ten feet to the ground. He rolled on the ground to slow his fall and ran towards the console.
The grey cloud of nano-droids started drifting towards Bond. Bruce Wayne leapt off the walkway and landed behind Bond. In seconds he had passed Bond. The console for the particle accelerator was about forty yards away. Bond ran faster to catch up with Wayne.
The cloud of nano-droids was forming above them and the air was full of the sound of buzzing. They ran past a sign – "No metal objects allowed past this point." And sat down at the console. Catwoman had used her whip to swing to the console before them and was sitting down there already with a smug look on her face.
"So, do you know how to use this?" asked Bond.
"No. Do you?" said Wayne.
"No. Let's do it together," said Bond. "Okay. Damping ring. Engaged. Positron source. Engaged."
"I'll power up the e-gun and the 200 MeV injector."
"Do you two even know what you're doing?" asked Catwoman.
The cloud of nano-droids had worked out they were the only people left alive and were converging on them. The lights darkened and a buzzing sound like a swarm of bees surrounded them. A whispering voice started which seemed to come from everywhere. "Your plan can not succeed, you will die… All will die…"
"Powering up the high energy ring," said Bond. Selina raised one eyebrow at this and then gasped in shock as her metal claws were torn off her hands along with her communicator and a few other metal objects, including Bond's gun, which were thrown with great force against the particle accelerator. The cloud of nano-droids disappeared in an instant, swept onto the particle accelerator. The buzzing sound stopped straight away and the light cleared.
"We'd better get out of here," said Bruce.
"Commencing primary detonation sequence," said a female voice from the speakers. "Destruction will commence in 60 seconds, 59, 58…"
By the time the counter had reached 48 seconds, Bond, Wayne and Selina were at the lift and jabbing the button continuously.
"Destruction of the plant will commence in 45 seconds, 44, 43…"
"Come on dammit!" hissed Bond. With a ping sound the lift door opened and they all piled in.
"Destruction of the plant will commence in 30 seconds, 29, 28…"
The lift started its slow journey towards the surface. The speaker was continuing the methodical count. "21,20,19…"
Bond kicked the slow lift in frustration. "We'll be caught in the explosion here."
"Agreed," said Wayne. "Let's get out of here." Bruce leapt four feet in the air and grabbed hold of the maintenance hatch and was out of the lift in seconds. He leaned down and helped up Selina Kyle and James Bond.
"8, 7, 6…"
They were standing up on the lift looking up. Above them they could see the thin sliver of light showing the doors up above them as the lift trundled slowly upwards.
"5, 4, 3."
"Time to go," said Bond.
They all three started clambering up the lift shaft. Below them was a deep rumbling sound and suddenly the shaft started heating up. They clambered to the top and levered open the doors and fell out.
The lift doors behind them started glowing red. They all three ran from the lift shaft and looked behind them. The door and metal floor started glowing red and warped as they watched. A foul acrid smoke could be smelt as the base below melted into molten slag.
In the shadows outside the building was a man accustomed to working unseen. He took it as a personal affront if he was seen at parties, let alone spoken to. It was a skill he could use in the outside world. Alfred aimed a small radar dish at the men leaving the building. It could pick up and transcribe everything that was being said.
Blofeld and Jaws were walking out of the building. Behind them the Joker was rubbing his wrists where Bond had handcuffed him to the generator. Damian Alvey, looking very groggy, was following behind.
"Gotham is getting too hot for me to stay. Jaws, you will accompany me to the main base. Joker…"
"Yes, baldy?"
"You will get your little toy. Do with it what you will. I want the world to concentrate on you while I concentrate on the world. Do we have an understanding? The warhead is contained in this location." He handed him a card.
"You've made this old clown very happy," said the Joker. "I've got some big plans for that firecracker."
The Joker minced off to a waiting car.
The shadows seemed to get slightly deeper where Alfred was hiding as he, light-footed, made his way to where the Joker's car was. Taking care to stay out of the view of the rear view mirrors he knelt down and applied a small magnetic bug to the underside of the tailpipe of the car.
Damian Alvey walked nervously up to Blofeld. "Blofeld… Sir… What about me? Am I to accompany you? What about my family?"
Blofeld fixed him with an expressionless glare. "Go back to your family. Go back to your job. Go back to your life. SPECTRE has no further use for you."
Alvey walked up to his car, looking nervously over his shoulder every few seconds. He got in the car and tried the key. The expected explosion did not happen. He had made some bad mistakes in the past few years. He had nearly destroyed all he had worked for. And for what? For his son to have a better chance at life than he had. To be able to walk again. To be able to laugh again. Blofeld had promised it all and to be honest he had delivered. His son was now able to walk again and play baseball again. The last evening when he had hit a home run in the school games was the best moment in his life. He had a chance to live his life again. He would not mess it up again…
Blofeld watched him drive off as a helicopter landed behind them. A man walked out of the helicopter towards Blofeld. He was quite a nondescript looking man. No scars. No metal appendages. He was dressed in a smart business suit and his face had laughter lines. He looked like a businessman. There was a skinny teenager next to him with the beginnings of a small goatee beard. The type of man who found it easy to laugh and smile. When he smiled, and he smiled often, the smile never touched his eyes.
"Donnington Speen," said Blofeld. "We have a clean up situation we need taken care of by you and your associate. Start off with Alvey and his family and his secretary. Check his phone records. Find out who he has been in contact with in the past two hours and terminate them. If Bruce Wayne and Mr Bond have survived this evening then kill them as well."
Speen got a small snub-nosed pistol from his shoulder holster. "A pleasure. Ten thousand per hit. Standard fee. Families cost double."
"What? Why?"
"Psychiatrist fees. Such an event plays havoc with the emotions. Also I'm training up my boy here as well."
"Dane Paxton, Mr Blofeld," said the young man with a goatee beard. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. We've got a standard clean up operation, have we?"
"There is nothing standard about Gotham city, Mr Paxton. If the Batman tries to stop you, kill him as well."
"I've never killed a costume before, Mr Blofeld," said Donnington Speen, getting out a small notepad. "He'll cost you $100,000. It'll be extra if you want any of his associates done away with as well?"
"Just kill them. Kill them all. Send me the bill."
"Certainly, Mr Blofeld, certainly. Come on, Dane my boy, we've got a busy night…"
Bond, Wayne and Catwoman ran out of the building and were just in time to see the helicopter with Blofeld in it taking off. Several cars were also roaring out of the car park. Inside one Bruce could see the face of the Joker.
"Damn it, they've escaped."
"We'll find them, we'll find them," said Bruce.
A car purred up next to them and inside could be seen the reassuring face of Alfred.
Damian Alvey had reached his house. He left the car running and ran into his house. His wife was at the door.
"What's the matter? What's wrong?"
"We're out of here. We're going." He knew that Blofeld could not let him live. Not with what he knew.
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Grab Jack. Get in the car."
"We can't just go! We can't just leave! What about all our things?"
"You don't understand, Marie. I made a pact with a devil to save Jack and now he will be coming to collect."
"What do you mean? What have you done?"
"I don't have time to talk; just grab him and go!"
Marie ran to the bottom of the stairs and started calling. "Jack! Jack dear! We're going out. Come downstairs. Quick as you can."
Another car pulled up behind theirs. Alvey looked at who was in it. Two men. Not anyone he recognised. They must be hit men. "Shit. Shit!" He closed the front door and grabbed Marie and Jack, who was just walking downstairs clutching his Gameboy. "Upstairs! Now! Come on, damn it!"
"That's naughty language, Daddy!" said Jack, looking up at him with his big blue eyes.
"Just go! Upstairs! Now!"
The doorbell rang and Julianna, their maid, waddled up to the front door. "I'll get it, Mr Alvey. I have to go and get some more milk from Walmart anyway."
"No, don't!" shouted Alvey.
The door to the big house opened and Donnington took off his hat to talk to the lady who opened it.
"Excuse me madam, we are looking for Mr Alvey…"
There was a shot next to him and the lady was blown back into the house.
Donnington looked aggrievedly at Dane. "What did you do that for? I was talking to her!"
"We've got to kill them all."
"That's what's wrong with the young generation. No time to talk to people. Mr Alvey is our prime target. We need these others to be kept alive, at least until we know where he is. You know what my prison psychiatrist said to me?"
"Which one?"
"The one I tried to eat."
"Not much, from what I recall. You killed him, didn't you?"
"Exactly. A mistake I try not to repeat. If I hadn't killed him I might have learned something useful from him."
"Like what, Donny?"
"I don't know, and don't call me Donny. My name is Mr Speen to you."
"Sorry Donny, I mean Mr Speen. What do we do now?"
There was a big boom from the stairs and the statue next to the front door disintegrated into a shower of marble.
"You're not killing me! Blofeld sent you, right?"
Donnington and Dane were now standing on either side of the doorframe.
"Mr Alvey? Is that you?"
"Yeah! I'm getting out of here and you can't stop me!"
Dane got a small machine gun out from his brief case and rattled off half a magazine up the stairs towards Alvey. Donnington covered his ears at this outburst.
"Please Dane, let the adults sort this out in a grownup manner." He peered around the doorframe and immediately jerked his head back as a huge chunk of the doorframe was removed. "I'm sorry about my colleague, Mr Alvey. He does get somewhat over exuberant. Mr Blofeld only wants you dead, sir. We'll leave your family alone if you give yourself up."
"No he doesn't," said Dane looking at a small notebook. "The order quite specifically says…"
There was another boom as the shotgun fired. "I was lying. Like when your mother called you a good looking intelligent man," said Donnington patiently. "I know Blofeld wants them all dead, but up until the point you opened that gaping great maw of yours Alvey didn't."
"Sorry Donny, I mean Mr Speen."
"You keep him talking, I'll deal with him."
"What do you mean keep him talking? What should I talk about?"
"I would have thought that even in that vacuous hole you call a head there would be enough to fill a five minute conversation?"
"I've got several hobbies…"
"I don't think that picking your nose and gazing vacantly into space could be called a hobby. Although to be fair you have taken those activities to an art form."
Donnington put his pistol in his shoulder holster and started clambering up the trellis next to the door. In seconds he was at the first floor window. He peered through the window and could see the staircase. There at the top of the staircase was Alvey's wife and son huddled together in fear. Damian Alvey was holding a huge shotgun and was busy reloading it whilst looking down the stairs at the front door.
He quietly levered open the window and let himself into the house, making less noise that the ghost of a mouse. He drew his small snub-nosed gun and in just under two seconds had earned himself $20,000 dollars. He trained his gun at Damian Alvey next and realised to his shock that he had gone.
"Come on out, Mr Alvey," said Donnington. "You are drawing this out needlessly." Donnington crouched to the ground just as a section of wall above was blown to pieces, showering him with plaster and bits of brick.
"You killed my family, you bastard! I'll kill you for that! I'll kill you!"
"You killed them, Mr Alvey. You killed them as soon as you sold out Wayne Tech to Mr Blofeld."
There was another huge boom and a picture behind Donnington that had contained a nice picture of a Spanish treasure ship at sunrise disintegrated.
"I've got nothing left to live for! I'm going to gut you slowly!"
"That's the spirit, Mr Alvey," said Donnington. "But please leave the art work alone. I happen to be somewhat of a connoisseur." He looked about the hallway with interest. "Although to be honest apart from that painting my over exuberant colleague perforated there is not much here of any note."
A shotgun appeared in the hole in the wall to the left of Donnington. He grabbed the gun and jerked the shotgun out. He then grabbed Alvey by the collar and dragged him through the hole, throwing him to the ground.
"Now, Mr Alvey," said Donnington, pointing a gun at his head. "Let's talk about this in a civilised way. You will die. Nothing you say can stop that. But if you tell me who else you have spoken to in the past two hours you will die quickly. Draw it out…" Behind him Dane lumbered up the stairs carrying a small brief case. "And I will have to let Dane loose on you. He's been longing to use his teeth pullers on someone, haven't you Dane?"
"Please don't kill me! I only spoke to Bruce Wayne, his secretary, and Bruce Wayne's servant! Alfred Pennyworth or something?" Donnington shot him once in the chest and Alvey slumped to the ground.
"You see, that was nice and easy, wasn't it Mr Alvey."
"Daddy, why did that man shoot me?" Donnington looked at the corridor and paled. The boy he had shot in the head was standing up. The head wound was closing up. He looked down at Alvey and the chest wound was healing up as he looked.
Damian Alvey grabbed Donnington Speen by the chest and threw him across the corridor where he crashed into a china cabinet, spilling its precious contents onto the floor. "These nano-droids keep me and my family alive, Speen. What keeps you alive?" He punched Dane on the chin sending him careering down the stairs through the front door and into a rose bush.
Donnington dabbed at his chin where some blood was flowing. "Please, Mr Alvey, we might have got off on the wrong foot with this relationship." He shot Alvey five times in quick succession in the chest.
Alvey laughed as the wounds healed up. "Not only will these stop me dying." He punched Donnington again pushing him through a partition wall and making him land upside down in a bath. "They have greatly increased my strength."
"Dane! Dane boy! You still awake?" cried Donnington as he struggled to his feet.
"Just about, Mr Speen, just about, although I think I have lost a tooth."
"You still got any of those thermal grenades?"
"What, the ones you said were extremely dangerous, unsubtle and that no self respecting assassin would use?"
"Those are the ones." Donnington got to his feet as Alvey tried to punch him again. Donnington blocked one fist with his arm and swept Alvey's feet with a kick to his ankle. As Damian fell to the ground he bought down both fists on the back of his neck and heard a reassuring crack as he broke his spine.
As he looked at Alvey there was a cracking sound as his neck repaired itself and Damian tried to grab Donnington by the collar again. Speen took a step back. "Please mind the collar, Mr Alvey. I got this suit in Saville Row. Have you found those thermal grenades yet, Dane?"
"Still looking, Mr Speen."
Donnington ducked as Alvey punched at him, the fist took a huge chunk out of the wall behind him. Speen kicked at him but Alvey grabbed his leg and threw him out of the room through another partition wall.
"I'm getting really bored of this!" said Donnington. He got to his feet in a cloud of plaster dust and wood splinters. He loaded up his gun again and was just about to shoot at Alvey again when Damian grabbed his gun and crushed it in one hand. Donnington punched at Alvey and was rewarded by Alvey being thrown back against a wall. The punch, which would have floored a prizefighter, just made Alvey even madder.
"Donny, I mean Mr Speen!" came a voice from downstairs.
"Yes, my boy?"
"Run!"
Donnington ran towards a window and leapt out of the first floor of the building in a cloud of glass and splinters. Behind him the building disintegrated in a cloud of a flame and smoke. He landed with a far from graceful splash in a pond.
When he came to the surface he was looking eye to eye with three frogs and a newt. A hand came down to help him out. "I found the grenades, Mr Speen."
"I gathered that, Dane, I gathered that." The house behind him was consumed in a funeral pyre of smoke and flame. "You know, I think we are really going to earn our money in this town." He got out of the pond, water dripping off him. He pushed a couple of frogs off himself back into the pond.
"Where do we go next, boss?" asked Dane.
"As we are in Gotham we'll kill Batman next, since he is worth so much, and then go after Bruce Wayne and his entourage."
The limousine purred down the streets of downtown Gotham. Inside the vehicle Alfred was talking to the others.
"As per your instructions, Mr Wayne, I had been monitoring the conversations of people in the building." The car sputtered a bit as Alfred drove it then came back into life again. "Curious, this car has only just been serviced. Anyway sir, a printed transcript will be waiting for you back in the manor."
"Just give me a quick précis, Alfred."
"The gentlemen called Mr Blofeld and Mr Jaws have left Gotham. They did not say where to. Mr Joker has been given a nuclear bomb, again I do not know where although I did attach a transmitter to the underside of his car. There is also a new hit man called Donnington Speen in the area. We have no record of him or his associate Dane Paxton in the computer."
"Speen?" said Bruce Wayne, turning to Bond. "You know him?"
"He used to work for British Intelligence until he found out he could make more money outside. From what we last heard of him, he works solely for Blofeld now."
"Okay Alfred, back to the manor." Bruce turned to Bond. "What's your plan Bond?"
"I have to recover that bomb from the Joker first and then I'll have to go after Blofeld."
"Then it looks like we'll be working together." Bruce pressed a button in the armrest of his seat and the seat in front of him folded in on itself revealing the menacing black garb of the Batman. "Alfred, take Mr Bond and Selina back to the manor. Let Robin and Nightwing know we have to find the Joker as well. I'll follow the transmitter you placed on the Joker's car."
Deep in the bowels of Gotham city lies a series of tunnels. They were the original pipe works and reservoirs to the city but they were closed and sealed up due to a virulent cholera outbreak that wiped out half the inhabitants of the city at the time. Now an even more deadly inhabitant stalked the tunnels. To the side of one of the tunnels could be heard a thumping sound. Bits of mortar streamed down from the roof to lie on the congealed slime that lay in the bottom of the tunnel.
Dozens of rats fled in terror as the bricks fell through and crashed to the ground. A grinning white-faced clown looked through the gloom and put down the pickaxe he had been wielding.
The Joker giggled as he saw a high-tech looking warhead lying in the middle of the tunnel, just where he had been told. Four of his henchmen followed closely behind him.
"What now, Mr J?" asked one of them.
The Joker glowered at him. He didn't like being spoken to at the best of times but for once he was in a good mood. For him, being in a good mood meant not killing indiscriminately. "We send a memo to the good Mayor Krol and say sign the deeds to the city over to me or I turn Gotham into a smoking crater."
"Eeerrrr, Mr J, I don't think the Mayor has that sort of power. He doesn't own the property; he just deals with the administrative side of running a city. Allocating funds to the police, local roads, schools…" There was a gunshot and the thug, who was sadly over qualified for the job, slumped to the floor.
"As I was saying, we send a memo to the good Mayor Krol and say sign the deeds to the city over to me or I turn Gotham into a smoking crater."
"Great idea, boss," said the three remaining thugs quickly, who might not have been as intelligent as the dead thug but were at least quick learners.
A hundred years ago this part of Gotham was once rich and well to do when the Dutch traders first visited the city over a century ago. It used to be a prosperous concourse with apartment buildings for only the very wealthy. Now it was a symbol of urban decay. Statues of fanciful beasts adorned the rooftops. The rain, that was pretty much constant now, was dripping out of beast mouths and running down the side of the building, carving out small channels and rivulets as it went and bringing life to tiny forests of moss, lichen, ferns and even a type of spider that was now found nowhere else but here. Small colonies of birds nested up here, far from the streets below. Lightning flashed out, grounding itself at the top of the building. One of the 'statues' moved and looked down at the street scene below. The Joker's car was parked nearby and Batman was watching it with the patience of a rock.
Below the Batman was a tableau that he had seen a hundred times, a thousand maybe. A group of thugs were following a girl home. They were keeping to the side of the buildings to avoid the worst excesses of the rain. The girl looked behind her nervously and started to skitter down the pavement in fear. Even from the top of the building he could see her umbrella shake in fear. The Batman could see the dull glint of a knife as a man stopped her progress.
He leapt from his roof top perch, not even thinking. His body knew exactly what to do and before he had fallen thirty feet he had already fired a line to swing down to the street below. As he landed he kicked one of the thugs through the window of a sedan car.
One of the men tried to draw a gun. Stupid. Stupid fool. Before the gun was even out of the man's belt Batman had kicked him in the stomach and jabbed him in the arm, breaking the ulna and sending a shard of bone into a nerve cluster that would knock him out in seconds with the pain.
As he was kicking he had seen a man swing a bat at him. It would take him another two seconds to complete the swing, so he could safely ignore him while he concentrated on another man who was trying to stab him with a knife. He grabbed the knife hand with one hand and twisted it to break his arm. Another kick in the stomach left him lying twitching on the sidewalk.
He could now concentrate on the thug with the bat. Just before the baseball bat would have given his dentist plenty of overtime he caught the weapon with one hand and yanked it free. Simultaneously he kicked the man in the stomach and sent him reeling into the road. There he might have ended up decorating the front of a bus and gotten a eulogy in the local church that despite all evidence to the contrary would say he was a lovely man who was good to his mother and had lots of good points. Batman threw a line round him and yanked him back to the sidewalk where he collapsed next to his friends, giving him the chance to forget another Mother's Day card.
He looked back at the "girl" he had rescued. There he saw a man with lipstick and a very bad female disguise, and more to the point a small snub-nosed pistol pointing at him.
"Hello Batman. I'm Donnington Speen and you're dead…"