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 Fourteen
Bond despised emotion. Emotion made you weak; but despite his attempt to cauterise it from his soul, he was angry now. Several years ago Blofeld had killed his wife and he had promised himself that Blofeld would be killed for it. He had caught up with him last year but his gun hand had been shaking and the bullet that should have ripped apart Blofeld's head instead just scarred his face. True, the reason for his shakes was the drugs and torture he had just suffered, but just as the knives had scarred his skin the miss had scarred his soul.
He pressed the throttle on the motorbike and accelerated down the road. He felt Selina cling on to him behind him. He shuddered. He should not have brought her along. He had lost too many women and companions in his life to have any illusions about how safe his line of work was.
He would not lose Blofeld again. He could not lose him again. There were two people in this city who probably knew where he was. Donnington Speen, that traitorous double agent, and Damian Alvey. He revved the motorbike towards Alvey's house and saw him.
Alvey was running up the street towards the hills. Towards where Wayne Manor was. Bond's lip curled back as he smiled. He would not make it there… Bond gunned the bike down the sidewalk towards Alvey at the last second he kicked Damian into a wall. He stopped the bike and walked towards him.
Alvey tried to punch him but Bond pistol-whipped him and yanked his arms behind his back and pushed him to the ground.
"Arms out, either side," he said and ground the muzzle of his borrowed magnum into Alvey's skull.
Part of him thought that he should wait for Bruce Wayne, or Batman as he should now call him, but James did not trust many people in his life and he preferred to act by himself anyway.
Alvey struggled to get to his feet but Bond cracked him once on the skull with his gun. "Don't move. One chance. Where's Blofeld?"
"I wouldn't tell you if I knew."
Bond clicked the safety of his gun.
"I think you should tell him," said Selina. "While you still can."
"I don't know! I don't know! He wouldn't tell me! He wouldn't tell me anything."
Alvey was really struggling and Bond was amazed at his strength. He pulled Alvey's arms back so that his shoulder blades would be grating. This was an extremely painful hold and it stopped most people from moving.
Alvey was not most people. "Do you know Speen? Where's Speen?" he hissed.
Alvey got to his feet despite Bond and threw the secret agent ten feet away. Bond rolled with the impact and got to his feet, his gun pointing at Alvey. For some reason Alvey was incredibly strong. "Speen is at Wayne Manor. He'll kill them all just like I'll kill him," said Alvey. "And you are dead as well." Speen ripped up a parking meter and threw it at Bond.
Bond threw himself to the ground; the parking meter whipped overhead and ripped a huge hole out of the wall behind him. Bits of shattered masonry and brick dust rained down overhead. Alvey ripped up another parking meter and was just about to send it crashing down against Bond's head when he shot Alvey twice in quick succession in the head. "Come on, Selina," he said.
She looked shocked at this sudden execution of Alvey but she got on the back of the motorbike anyway and they both roared away. His search for Blofeld was dampened by his desire to save Alfred at Wayne Manor. True he had never got on with him but he would not allow Blofeld or Speen to kill another innocent.
If they had stayed longer they would have seen Alvey get up off the ground, his bullet wounds healing, and continue his run towards Wayne Manor.
Batman clicked his communicator off and cursed quietly and fluently. While he had been waiting up here like a cat outside a mouse hole the Joker had been threatening the city. He had just spoken to Gordon. The mayor could not relinquish control of the city to the Joker. It was not a question of yes or no, it was a simple impossibility. The city's statutes forbade a non-elected official in a position of governance. To change this would require a law passed by the senate. The senate was not in session at 10pm and even if it was he doubted they would do it. They had under an hour and a half to find the bomb or the Joker would detonate it.
He clicked on his communicator again. "R this is B, come in R, state your location."
"I'm two blocks away. I'll be with you shortly. Still no sign of J."
"We can't afford to play the waiting game anymore. We're going in."
Batman was looking at the video file that the Joker had sent to the mayor, the papers and the Gotham News Channel. Below him he could hear screams and hooting of horns as people started to realise what was beneath their feet.
Batman paused the image on his mobile phone. He called the Oracle. "Oracle, this is B. Have you seen this film?"
"I take it you mean the one of the Joker, and not the one circling the Internet of Wonder Woman and Superman?"
"Yes, that one is a fake, it's not Wonder Woman." Oracle tried not to think of how he knew that, especially not from the angles it was filmed at. "Let's talk about this one."
"Well. it is filmed underground. I have analysed the sound quality. It is close to a subway. Judging by the sound reverberations it is about 60 feet down."
"The brickwork is interesting," said Batman, interrupting her.
"How?"
"Pre 1880's brickwork," said Batman. "If you note, the water seepage has caused the lime to form small stalactites from the roof. It is difficult to tell from the image quality but it looks like they are formed around hairs. The hairs are too long to be human so they are probably horsehairs. Again indicative of previous 1880's brickwork since it was used as reinforcement. Also the tunnels look quite curved and various sections are deeper than others. They are poorly designed, allowing areas of dead flow and stagnant water to build up. They are probably the water pipes and reservoirs that were sealed off after the cholera outbreak of 1885."
Robin landed next to the Batman. "What's the plan, Batman?"
Batman hushed Robin with one hand and spoke again to Oracle. "Have you a plan of the old Gotham water system?"
"Yes."
"Send a plan through to my phone and overlay it with the current map of Gotham. Centralise it on my current position." There was a small beeping noise. Batman looked at his phone screen and smiled grimly. "Thanks. Also, could you send me details of how to defuse a 85 R-36MUTTH Russian nuclear warhead?" Batman shook his head. "They don't have the details on their website? Oh well, we will just have to wing it. We've got a bomb to stop, Robin. How many Russian nuclear warheads have you defused?"
Alfred had pulled out a chair for Miranda in his small dining room in the servants' quarter of Wayne Manor when the bell rang. The sound of rain could be heard battering its insistent rhythm on the windows. The odd crackle of lightning lit up the room brighter than the candles allowed but simply made the snug little room seem more homely. The delicious smell of a curry cooked to perfection permeated the air.
"Anyway," said Miranda, waving a fork dangerously in the air towards Alfred. "We have to get Brucey a girl friend. Do you think this Selina is a good match for him?"
"Well, she's certainly very nice," said Alfred, "and they have a lot in common." He thought it best to keep it quiet there.
"What about Isabel Arrundell?" said Miranda. "This curry is good! I've seen her in the society pages. She has her own show on Gotham TV."
Alfred blushed slightly. "I don't think they would be a good match."
"Why not? She always looks wonderfully bouncy on TV and her interviews with celebrities are always a hoot."
"She is a cross dresser."
"I always get angry when I'm putting on a dress myself. I could swear I'm not putting on weight but each year the clothes sizes get smaller and smaller. They say they are the same but…"
"No, she is a man. He is a transvestite."
"Shame. They would make a lovely couple. Are you sure we can't persuade him?"
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Is that Brucey back already?" asked Miranda, looking up at a row of bells on the wall above them. One of them was just quivering to a halt. "Doesn't he know what time it is? Doesn't he know it is your evening off? I'll give him what for when I see him in the office tomorrow!"
"Strange," said Alfred. "It is the bell in the study."
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"He sounds rather insistent," said Alfred, looking worried. Bruce rarely managed to walk into the house without Alfred knowing about. How had he managed it this time? Had he been wounded on one of his nighttime forays? He shuddered; he would not, did not want to think about that. Too many times he had retrieved bullets lodged in Bruce's flesh and sewn up stab wounds in his body and brought him back from the brink of death. He was always haunted by the thought that one day he would not be there in time for him.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"You'll have to forgive me, my dear," said Alfred putting down his napkin. "And after all the time I put in for this meal."
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"I'll see what he wants. I won't be long."
"I'll put your plate back in the oven," said Miranda.
Alfred hurried along the corridors of Wayne Manor. It had to be Bruce? He had heard no intruder alarms go off. Who else could it be? More impatient than he normally was; that was for sure.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The bells echoed and re-echoed through the manor. Alfred passed a mirror and saw his reflection. His bow tie was slightly crooked. He straightened it out and licked his hand to flatten his hair down. He didn't have much hair left but Miranda had still ruffled his hair as a mark of affection.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Alfred put on the lights as he went through the mansion. Even with the lights on there were still parts of stygian darkness in the mansion.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
He was certainly very impatient? He suddenly stopped. When Alfred put the light on in the study, it revealed a set of damp footprints. He looked at where they started. A window. The alarm on it had been cleverly circumvented by a small fibre-optic tube that made sure the light beam was not broken.
With a mounting feeling of dread he saw there were two sets of footprints, one heading back to the servants' quarters and one to the armchair next to the bell rope.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Hello, you must be Alfred," said the well dressed but rather damp man sitting in the chair, as he stopped pulling the bell. He was warming his hands next to the roaring fire in the study. "It is a muggy old night out there, isn't it?"
"Who the devil are you, and what you doing in Wayne Manor?"
"Forgive my rudeness," said the man. "My name is Donnington Speen. I'm looking for Mr Wayne; is he about?"
Alfred started backing out slowly. He kept an old loaded shotgun behind a suit of armour in the corridor. "Mr Wayne is not receiving guests at the moment, sir."
Donnington's face showed the flicker of a smile. "I won't trouble him for long. Where is he?"
"I don't know, sir."
Donnington's hand reached behind his back and it came back a second later with a long thin silver blade in it. It was a thin duelling sword he had obviously stolen from the wall case. He looked up at the case on the wall and could see only one now. "Now, now, Alfred. I don't want this to become unpleasant, but if I ask a question I expect an answer!"
Alfred ran out of the room and picked up the shotgun. He spun around with the gun and pointed it at where Speen had been. He was gone. Sweat was starting to prick at Alfred's brow. He looked nervously around himself; the gun was starting to shake.
From behind him Speen lunged at him. BANG! The gun went off and perforated the wall, narrowly avoiding Speen. The smell of cordite nearly made Alfred gag.
Donnington Speen grabbed the shotgun and threw it across the room. Alfred hadn't even seen him move!
"Please don't use a gun again, Alfred." The blade whipped through the air and sliced through his bow tie. A scream was heard through the mansion.
"No, Miranda!" said Alfred, and tried to get up. Donnington pushed Alfred down to the ground and again pointed the blade at him.
"Please don't do that again, there is nothing you can do for her now. Miranda is dead and you will soon be joining her." The blade flickered in front of Alfred's face. "How quickly and in how many pieces you will be joining her depends on this one simple question. Where is Bruce Wayne?"
Batman and Robin lowered themselves down the manhole cover next to the Joker's car. The fetid smell of the sewer hit their noses. Immediately they both put on small breathing masks that hid the awful smell.
The bottom of the sewer was treacherously slick. All around him could be heard the click, click of tiny claws. Rats were running past them down the sewer. Even through the masks the smell was horrendous.
Batman clicked on his star light lenses and looked down at the map. The old water pipes joined the sewers about a hundred yards along. Nameless things hung from the ceiling, brushing against his face and cloak.
He looked across at Robin and could see he was just as appalled as he was. This was no place to be.
The star light lenses showed the sluggish stream beneath them heading towards the sewage works. Every few yards light from the drains above them cast the sewer into a modicum of light.
Batman raised one hand, signalling Robin to stop. Up ahead was a shape against the sewer wall. One of the Joker's men was keeping guard. The guard was keeping very still and it was only the profile of the shotgun that made him stand out from the rest of the sewer. Although it went against every thought in his body Batman hugged the wall to hide his profile and looked at him again. The man was wearing a gas mask and he was not looking in his direction.
Good. He got a batarang from his belt and threw it hard at the guard whilst running at him. The batarang caught the guard on the head and Batman was ready to catch him. The guard's head rolled slowly off the top of his body and fell with a splash into the sewer below. The sight of the guard nearly made him gag. Something had been eating away at the man and all that was left was a partially digested corpse, that crumbled to dust as he touched it.
He looked down. There, partially hidden by the flowing sewage, was the partially decomposed body of another two of the Joker's guards.
Robin was by his side. He removed the gas mask quickly to ask. "What did this to them?"
Batman looked around himself nervously. Not even his awesome skills could defend against an enemy he could not see. "Nano-droids. Millions of them."