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, they are all greatly appreciated! All reviews welcome.
Golden Bat – Chapter Fifteen
The voice recognition system on the gate let Selina and Bond in. The door clanked open, the rain coming down in sheets now, drenching the pair of them. Bond accelerated up the road towards the manor, the bike sending plumes of water arcing either of side of them. The lightning showed the mansion up in stark relief.
One of the downstairs windows was lit and they could see Speen pointing a sword at Alfred. Bond's lip curled back as he accelerated towards the window up the stone staircase and flew into the mansion.
The window exploded in a shower of glass and splinters. Bond and Selina leapt off the motorbike before it crashed into opposite wall, destroying a rare Ottoman dynasty cabinet and ripping a tapestry that showed the crowning of Louis XIV at Versailles.
Alfred scurried away as Speen's attention was drawn to Bond but he was not fast enough. Speen picked up Alfred with one hand and threw him at Bond, making him drop his gun. Speen kicked the gun out of the wrecked room and into the quagmire that was once an elegant garden.
"I have always wanted to face you, Bond," said Speen. "You were always the one to aspire to. No-one could ever beat the golden boy. That's what we were told in MI6." Speen swished the sword back and forth. "I think that is baloney. You're only as good as the last man you fight." He swished the sword dangerously close to Bond's neck. "The last man you kill."
Alfred got to his feet. "Miranda, I have to see Miranda. I have to know…" He shuddered.
Bond said. "Selina, follow Alfred; get Miranda."
"Get a sword, Bond," said Speen. "Slicing you open unarmed is no sport at all."
Bond leapt back and grabbed the other duelling sword from the wall cabinet.
"En garde, 007," said Speen, raising the sword in a form of salute. "I represented England in the Commonwealth games for fencing for five years." Bond defended himself and was beaten back by the force of blows. Sparks flew between the clashing blades. "I nearly killed my opponent in the final."
"You weren't good enough to fight fair," said Bond, and sliced the sword at him. Speen caught the sword easily on the edge of his blade and deflected it. Bond hacked at him twice but Speen parried them easily.
The sword struck like lightning and nicked Bond's arm, cutting him. Speen chuckled. "I thought you would be faster, Bond. I'll slice you up like a Swiss cheese."
Bond tried to get inside the arc of the sword to deny Speen the chance to swipe his blade but he just took a couple of steps back. Bond grabbed a chair with his spare hand and threw it at him but Speen just leapt agilely over the obstacle.
Bond had been taught to fight by some real hardened brawlers. One of them was Bill "Stone Wall" Bryant. He was the bare-knuckle boxing champion of London for five years running and he also ran a protection racket in 30 East End pubs in London. He was a master of the bar room brawl and had never been beaten. When the police finally had enough on him to lock him up for a very long time, the Intelligence Services offered him an ultimatum: train our agents up or never see the light of day again. If an agent was deep undercover and had to fight his way out and he started kicking and punching like Bruce Lee they would immediately smell the security services.
Bryant taught Bond how to fight well and he taught him how to fight dirty and he taught him how to fight using everything to hand as a weapon. Bond was a very good pupil…
Speen's blade flickered near Bond's face and it was only his exceptional reactions that stopped him having his throat sliced open.
"I've been fighting with swords for years, Bond, did you know that?"
Bond didn't bother replying. He was too busy watching Speen's eyes, waiting to see where he would strike next.
"It was how MI6 got me into foreign countries. Who would suspect an athlete like me to be a spy?" Donnington lunged again with his sword. Bond grabbed a candlestick from the table behind him and threw it at Speen. Hot wax dripped from the still warm candle onto Speen's face, making him hiss with pain. Bond used the opening to slice at Speen. Speen staggered back but not before Bond had cut an identical gash in his arm.
"Why did you leave?" asked Bond. Not that he wanted to know, but if he kept him talking he might make a mistake.
"What makes the world go round?" asked Speen whilst studying Bond's fencing tactics. "Money. British Intelligence trained me up, I'll give them that, but they don't pay well. I'm self-employed. I get paid by the hit and not by the year."
"You're just a common assassin."
"There is nothing common about me," said Speen. Using his artificial arm he grabbed Bond's sword blade and ripped it from his grasp. In seconds he had twisted the blade into a circle and he dropped it. "But I am an assassin." He lunged at the now defenceless Bond with his blade.
Batman and Robin carefully made their way through the hole in the sewer wall. The star light lenses were showing the whole inside of the tunnel system in a lurid green. Batman wiped his eyes with one hand. For some reason his eyesight was getting blurred. Was it his vision or was it…
Batman cursed quietly to himself. The whole roof of the sewer he was in was covered in a white mist. Nano-droids. He gestured to Robin, who paled as he saw them.
The mist seemed to change shape as he watched them. Eyes and faces seemed to form in the mist above them.
BANG!
The sound of the gunshot echoed and re-echoed around the sewer. Batman had instinctively ducked even though he knew if you heard it, it was too late. Even knowing this didn't stop him lowering his profile.
BANG! BANG!
Two more shots came from up ahead. He looked around himself worriedly. There was no obvious signs the bullets had come anywhere near them. He had seen a flash up ahead of the gun.
He quickly checked his belt. Were the batarangs and darts to hand? They wouldn't fall out if he had to make any sudden movements? Were his gloves on tight? If they were loose then he could fumble a throw.
He motioned at the boy to stay back. He would rather deal with the Joker alone but Robin would be good to watch his back. The Joker normally had a surprise up his purple sleeve. In fact he normally had several.
He could hear the Joker's falsetto warbling up ahead. "Back, you demented mist, back!" BANG! BANG! "You've killed Bernard!" There was the slight sound of panic in the Joker's voice. "That's my job! He was mine to kill, mine, as is the rest of this stinking city!"
There was another voice in the tunnel. An altogether deeper voice. An altogether more sinister voice. "We kill who we want…"
"There is only room for one psychopath in this town, mist boy. Let me get a fan and blow you away." BANG! BANG!
"We learn from who we kill, Joker."
"Have you ever thought of school? It's whom! Whom! You obviously killed a pretty illiterate bunch so far! They teach you that sort of thing at Arkham. I'm sure there is a drawer they can keep you in? What do we call you? The Fog Fogey? The Fogey man? The Man of Mist-ery?"
Batman, keeping to the shadows, crept around the edge of the tunnel to see the Joker pointing his gun at a shadowy figure. It looked like a badly drawn person. The kind of drawing a child might do, if he was severely psychologically disturbed and had been on drugs for several years. The head was huge and grey eyes looked out over the Joker. Although there was a mouth its movements did not synch with what was being said. It was like watching a badly dubbed film.
Batman was so busy watching this ghost-like figure he did not notice the trip wire that stretched across the sewer, as fragile and as thin as tooth floss and attached to the pin of the hand grenade. He heard the gentle plink as the pin came out and he saw the hand grenade roll towards him like an overripe apple.
Alfred scampered down the corridor of Wayne Manor. It said something for his mood that when he crashed into a small table and knocked over a plant pot he did not stop to pick it up.
Selina was ahead of him. They ran around a corner towards the servants' quarters and Selina raised a hand. "Silence."
"Get out of my way!" His normal politeness was eroded by the fear of what was round the corner. "I must save Miranda."
"There is a killer around here, Alfred," whispered Selina. "You wait here, I'll deal with him."
Though there was a myriad of nasty thoughts and horrible pictures that were coursing through his brain, he realised the importance of her comments. What good was he in a fight? If the killer had murdered Miranda he would gut the man and leave his body outside for the crows. Part of him recoiled at the thought but another part of him wanted blood.
Selina crept round the corner as silent as a kitten. She kept to the walls. Not so much to hide her profile but more to stop the floorboards creaking. Years of practice had shown her way to move quietly.
When she was robbing a big house she would normally wait for the family to be up and about. The doors and windows are often unlocked then. Especially in summertime. People in Gotham worry about flies and moths getting in open windows. They should be more worried about cats.
The servants' dining room was in front of her. She got out a small dentist's mirror from her pocket and looked around the corner. The first thing she saw was a body on the floor. There were several broken plates on the carpet. There seemed to have been a struggle. She moved the mirror up to pan around the room and saw a face looking down at her…