Being the leader of this particular bunch of Jokerz was nothing to be proud of. They were the perfect example of what the general public considered any Jokerz to be. Idiots. Still, it was moments like this that made the job interesting. He had no idea why the woman had dumped this particular 'gift' on him, but he would not hesitate to take advantage of it. After all, he was not an idiot himself. Now if he could just cut through all this stupid red tape kinda stuff and get through to the 'Almighty Mister Bruce Wayne'. Had been two hours now that he had been calling different numbers to reach the man without success.
"Boss!" Snorty Nort, second in command, came rushing in to disturb him once again.
Norton's name had been altered by his fellow gang members because he had an annoying habit of snorting like a pig at the end of his sentences when he got excited. Luckily he did not get excited too often.
"Better hurry up and get this over with.{snort} That McGinnis guy's been puk'in blood.{snort} He don't look good.{snort} What if he dies before-- "
"Then we lose a big chunk of gain dumbo!" He cut off Nort's sentence to prevent any more of the irritating animal sound from erupting. "Do what you can for him and quit interrupt'in me!"
***
"Mr. Wayne." The smiling, garishly painted face looked into the communication vid-link, his nasally voice irritating. "We have something of yours you might be missing." He gestured off-screen then stepped aside as two more Jokerz came into view with a sagging man supported between them. The apparent leader grabbed a handful of black hair on the bowed head, pulling back so the viewers could clearly discern the battered countenence though Bruce already knew who it was. "Look familiar?"
Tim and Maxine's expressions of protest and dismay at sight of Terry's beaten face went silent beneath the seething rage coming from Bruce. His ominous expression was set like granite, his hushed voice, icy with well controlled fury.
"What have you done to him."
The lead Jokerz's smile faded. He released hold of his captive's head, letting it flop downward and took an unconscious step back from the screen.
"We didn't do nuth'in to him. That's the way he was when she dumped him on us."
Bruce's lips twitched. "Explain." he commanded in a tone that none who heard it would consider disobeying.
The clown shrugged broad shoulders, looking uncomfortable. "Just like I said. This dame and a couple guys in weird uniforms carrying this one..." He gave a brief nod in Terry's direction. "...came up to us on the street. She says his name is McGinnis and is connected to you. Says you'd pay big to get him back."
"A name."
"Never said. And none of us ever seen her before." Tense silence poised on both sides while Bruce's gaze centered on the half conscious Terry. The muscles in the square-jawed cheeks worked beneath the wrinkled skin.
"How far are you from Pier 19?"
The Jokerz tensed. Did the guy know they were less than two miles from the place? His reply was hesitant. "Not very."
"Tell me what you want and we'll make the exchange there in thirty minutes."
The Jokerz hesitated again, surprised by the sudden acquiescence and realizing he had no control over what was happening here and probably had been in over his head from the start. Better not get greedy either since he was the pawn here and not the mastermind. "Fifty thousand and any sign of cops we dump him," he threatened weakly.
"No police. You have my word. And if you're not there in thirty minutes you're going to be a sorry bunch of Jokerz." The soft threat carried the promise of a most sincere man.
***
The exchange was made at dusk surrounded by the stink of the polluted harbor, the screech of seagulls, the clang and butts of ship traffic anchored and moving, muted shouts and the splash, slap of water against hulls and pier supports.
They met halfway between the parked cars. Gaily dressed Jokerz helped Terry from their vehicle, propping him between them to follow their leader to midpoint where Bruce waited, flanked by Tim and Maxine.
Terry resisted the help, pulling away from his two escorts to stand alone. He swayed and staggered a step before finding balance enough to stand straighter and begin to move forward on his own.
His gaze focused on the distant Max and remained on her as he moved one wobbly leg after another. This macho effort had nothing to do with pride. It came from strong anxiety. He could not let her see the weakness in him that would drive her away again. He needed her thoughtful concern and steadying strength so badly right now that he could taste it, could feel it sustaining him from the moment she laid eyes on him. At this moment she was the focus of his life and a reason to take another step forward.
Maxine's strong urge to rush ahead to help the friend whom she had known for the longest time was more than that to her was restrained by Tim's hand touching her arm for a moment. She clasped her hands tight together and watched. He moved as if each step required a major effort. The two Jokerz walking beside him had hands ready to help, but he gave them no sign he needed any.
Halting before Bruce, the leader stepped aside to let his captive through. Terry did not even glance at his mentor. His eyes were locked on Maxine, knowing that losing contact with her now would mean his utter collapse.
Feeling his need had Max lunging forward. Her arms went carefully around him. She rocked and shifted to a wider stance as his weight settled against her. Head resting weakly on her shoulder, Terry murmured her name with a weary sigh. He was reluctant to release her when Tim came alongside to share Max's burden and help him to the car.
Bruce was a monolith who stood between the wary Jokerz and the three people behind him heading to the safety of the car. Three of a handful of people whose welfare he held close to his heart. He held the money in front of him, but did not hand it over saying instead. "There's ten more than you asked for in here. You can have it if you give me more detail about the woman."
The three clowns exchanged glances before the leader offered. "She was good look'in. Medium height and build. White hair."
"White, not blond?"
"White and kind of a brittle texture. Strange, but somehow it seemed right on her. Talked like she knew everything and didn't have a care in the world."
"Describe her voice."
"Sort of deep with a slight exotic-like accent." A different Jokerz piped up.
"She had something in her left ear. Looked like a fancy hearing aid."
"What about the ones with her. Describe their uniforms."
"Real dull. Burgandy colored with white piping around the shoulders and waist. Those guys were kinda zombie-like. Didn't even blink an eye unless she told 'em to."
Bruce had a million more questions he could have asked these very cooperative criminals, but Terry was in dire need of medical attention. He tossed the money. "There's more where that came from if you can come up with a name or picture."
Tim set the car in motion as soon as both of Bruce's feet were inside. Rapid acceleration propelled the door shut without much help from Bruce. He craned his head around to the back to see Terry stretched out on the seat, an intravenous line already hooked into one hand, the bag of fluids hanging on the hook above his head. Maxine was squeezed onto the car floor, tucking a blanket around him. His eyes were closed in a face mosaic of bruises and swellings. Bruce was certain the body beneath the clothing was just as decorative and that internal damage beneath the skin was threatening the young man's life.
Maxine was absently stroking and squeezing Terry's nearest hand. Terry's image on the vidscreen had not prepared her for the real thing. It had taken all of her self control not to wince at the sight of him. She had rarely seen him hurt this bad, but that was not what frightened her the most.
This happening was like a slap in the face to her. To all she had come to believe in Batman's skills. The vast experience and wisdom of the elder. The undaunted courage and growing expertise of the younger. If there was one out there who could so easily, casually do this to such strong men then what chance did anyone have? Someone or someones had overridden all the security protocols of the batmobile and suit, kidnapped Terry, tortured him and sent him back, via a gang of nondescript Jokerz, to the only person who would realize the significance of it all. The original Batman. Mentor of the new Batman.
Whoever did this knew Bruce and knew how to manipulate his weakness by sending his protege back to him in this condition. Telling Bruce what he thought of his so-called successor. Showing him what a failure the idea was. What a failure Batman was.
She glanced up at Bruce, tension in her soft voice. "He's so cold."
Terry's hand clasped hers, stopping its movement. His words were faint.
"I'm okay Max." He fought to keep weighted lids open. He wanted to reassure her knowing how much she worried. He wanted her to stay in his life and she would not if he could not convince her there was no reason for her concerns. Not likely to work this time when he was too weak to stay awake much less sit up and show her how okay he was. Another failure to add to all the others. She had been the only 'normal' reality in his life for years. While he had struggled with his long slow rise into the insane world of Batman she had been the strong tether to keep him grounded to a portion of the real world and a gentle buffer against Bruce's cold and sometimes harsh mentoring ways. All painful realizations he had come to after she had left, plus an emptiness inside him so complete, it hurt.
Desperation gave him strength to grip her hand tight and beseech her attentive look. "Promise you won't leave," he murmured pulling her hand closer to his body. "Stay with me Max."
She blinked as her dark eyes began to glisten with moisture. "I'm not going anywhere." A reassuring squeeze of his ice-cold hand and a gentle grin came before Maxine could manage to speak again. "I'm gone for a few weeks and look what kind of mess you get into." Soft husky words teased. "What am I gonna do with you McGinnis?" She wanted to touch his face, sooth the haunted look she saw in his eyes, but could find no place to settle her fingers that would not touch a swelling or a bruise or a cut already there.
Terry tried to smile, but his face was to stiff too comply and his throat so tight he could only whisper.
"Made it too easy for me when you were around. Got spoiled."
"I'll keep that in mind for future reference. No more lively debates or singing those little ditties over the link when you get bored. And absolutely no more massages unless you beg me for them. That should toughen you up in no time." A momentary twinkle of amusement in his eyes told her what his facial expression could not.
"Missed you," he sighed, eyes closing tiredly.
"Hey." She drawled gently, wanting to keep him awake to stave off the shock that was pulling him under. "I want to know why you missed me before you head off into dreamy land. Tell me what you missed most about me. A woman needs to hear those things you know?" When he did not respond she squeezed his hand again. "Terry. Talk to me."
His lids struggled to open, mouth moved to speak slurred words in a low murmur. "Everything. Missed everything about you. Your voice... " He paused, trying to focus on her. "Knowing you were always there... waiting for me."
She watched his eyes drift shut again, felt his hand begin to relax in her grip. "Terry?"
He roused himself, effort visible. "How long?"
"We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes." Max reassured.
"No. How long have I... been gone?"
Bruce answered. "Almost sixty hours."
"Huh. S'that all. Seems like... weeks." He made a noise that might have been a chuckle, then shifted as a spasm of pain made him squirm.
"Who did this Terry." Bruce's gruff voice held suppressed outrage.
"Don't know." He could not get his eyes to stay open and he wanted them open so he could see Max. Being able to see her meant everything could be right again. "Never forget her face though. Better tell the Commish... she's trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Don't know."
"You must know something or you wouldn't be saying that."
"Just... she doesn't want Batman in the way." Exertion to continue talking was telling in Terry's voice.
"What about a location. Any idea wh-- "
"Bruce." Tim objected sternly. "Save it for later."
Terry answered, words increasingly sluggish. "Couldn't see... much. North... the car... went.. north. Sor..ry."
"It's okay Terry." Tim spoke firm reassurance, turning his head away from the road towards the young man for a moment. "You're going to be all right. You hear me?" Memory of his own experience of mistreatment had reared its ugly head the moment he had seen Terry on the vidscreen. He had made a silent vow to help in any way he could. Right now Terry needed reassurance, not an interrogation. "You will be all right." Max's voice wavered behind him.
"He can't hear you anymore. I can barely feel his pulse... Bruce?" There was a childish pleading quality to her tone when she said that name. Bruce's gruff reassurance was no more than Tim expected, yet it was enough.
"He'll be all right."
Bruce's body virtually creaked as he resumed a straight posture in his seat. Tim pressed a strong hand on the elderly man's shoulder. He knew, despite all Bruce's years of living through the worst that life could offer, that he needed reassurance as much as anyone. "He's strong. He'll be able to work through this."
Closing his eyes for a moment, Bruce rumbled weary agreement "I know."
"Boss!" Snorty Nort, second in command, came rushing in to disturb him once again.
Norton's name had been altered by his fellow gang members because he had an annoying habit of snorting like a pig at the end of his sentences when he got excited. Luckily he did not get excited too often.
"Better hurry up and get this over with.{snort} That McGinnis guy's been puk'in blood.{snort} He don't look good.{snort} What if he dies before-- "
"Then we lose a big chunk of gain dumbo!" He cut off Nort's sentence to prevent any more of the irritating animal sound from erupting. "Do what you can for him and quit interrupt'in me!"
***
"Mr. Wayne." The smiling, garishly painted face looked into the communication vid-link, his nasally voice irritating. "We have something of yours you might be missing." He gestured off-screen then stepped aside as two more Jokerz came into view with a sagging man supported between them. The apparent leader grabbed a handful of black hair on the bowed head, pulling back so the viewers could clearly discern the battered countenence though Bruce already knew who it was. "Look familiar?"
Tim and Maxine's expressions of protest and dismay at sight of Terry's beaten face went silent beneath the seething rage coming from Bruce. His ominous expression was set like granite, his hushed voice, icy with well controlled fury.
"What have you done to him."
The lead Jokerz's smile faded. He released hold of his captive's head, letting it flop downward and took an unconscious step back from the screen.
"We didn't do nuth'in to him. That's the way he was when she dumped him on us."
Bruce's lips twitched. "Explain." he commanded in a tone that none who heard it would consider disobeying.
The clown shrugged broad shoulders, looking uncomfortable. "Just like I said. This dame and a couple guys in weird uniforms carrying this one..." He gave a brief nod in Terry's direction. "...came up to us on the street. She says his name is McGinnis and is connected to you. Says you'd pay big to get him back."
"A name."
"Never said. And none of us ever seen her before." Tense silence poised on both sides while Bruce's gaze centered on the half conscious Terry. The muscles in the square-jawed cheeks worked beneath the wrinkled skin.
"How far are you from Pier 19?"
The Jokerz tensed. Did the guy know they were less than two miles from the place? His reply was hesitant. "Not very."
"Tell me what you want and we'll make the exchange there in thirty minutes."
The Jokerz hesitated again, surprised by the sudden acquiescence and realizing he had no control over what was happening here and probably had been in over his head from the start. Better not get greedy either since he was the pawn here and not the mastermind. "Fifty thousand and any sign of cops we dump him," he threatened weakly.
"No police. You have my word. And if you're not there in thirty minutes you're going to be a sorry bunch of Jokerz." The soft threat carried the promise of a most sincere man.
***
The exchange was made at dusk surrounded by the stink of the polluted harbor, the screech of seagulls, the clang and butts of ship traffic anchored and moving, muted shouts and the splash, slap of water against hulls and pier supports.
They met halfway between the parked cars. Gaily dressed Jokerz helped Terry from their vehicle, propping him between them to follow their leader to midpoint where Bruce waited, flanked by Tim and Maxine.
Terry resisted the help, pulling away from his two escorts to stand alone. He swayed and staggered a step before finding balance enough to stand straighter and begin to move forward on his own.
His gaze focused on the distant Max and remained on her as he moved one wobbly leg after another. This macho effort had nothing to do with pride. It came from strong anxiety. He could not let her see the weakness in him that would drive her away again. He needed her thoughtful concern and steadying strength so badly right now that he could taste it, could feel it sustaining him from the moment she laid eyes on him. At this moment she was the focus of his life and a reason to take another step forward.
Maxine's strong urge to rush ahead to help the friend whom she had known for the longest time was more than that to her was restrained by Tim's hand touching her arm for a moment. She clasped her hands tight together and watched. He moved as if each step required a major effort. The two Jokerz walking beside him had hands ready to help, but he gave them no sign he needed any.
Halting before Bruce, the leader stepped aside to let his captive through. Terry did not even glance at his mentor. His eyes were locked on Maxine, knowing that losing contact with her now would mean his utter collapse.
Feeling his need had Max lunging forward. Her arms went carefully around him. She rocked and shifted to a wider stance as his weight settled against her. Head resting weakly on her shoulder, Terry murmured her name with a weary sigh. He was reluctant to release her when Tim came alongside to share Max's burden and help him to the car.
Bruce was a monolith who stood between the wary Jokerz and the three people behind him heading to the safety of the car. Three of a handful of people whose welfare he held close to his heart. He held the money in front of him, but did not hand it over saying instead. "There's ten more than you asked for in here. You can have it if you give me more detail about the woman."
The three clowns exchanged glances before the leader offered. "She was good look'in. Medium height and build. White hair."
"White, not blond?"
"White and kind of a brittle texture. Strange, but somehow it seemed right on her. Talked like she knew everything and didn't have a care in the world."
"Describe her voice."
"Sort of deep with a slight exotic-like accent." A different Jokerz piped up.
"She had something in her left ear. Looked like a fancy hearing aid."
"What about the ones with her. Describe their uniforms."
"Real dull. Burgandy colored with white piping around the shoulders and waist. Those guys were kinda zombie-like. Didn't even blink an eye unless she told 'em to."
Bruce had a million more questions he could have asked these very cooperative criminals, but Terry was in dire need of medical attention. He tossed the money. "There's more where that came from if you can come up with a name or picture."
Tim set the car in motion as soon as both of Bruce's feet were inside. Rapid acceleration propelled the door shut without much help from Bruce. He craned his head around to the back to see Terry stretched out on the seat, an intravenous line already hooked into one hand, the bag of fluids hanging on the hook above his head. Maxine was squeezed onto the car floor, tucking a blanket around him. His eyes were closed in a face mosaic of bruises and swellings. Bruce was certain the body beneath the clothing was just as decorative and that internal damage beneath the skin was threatening the young man's life.
Maxine was absently stroking and squeezing Terry's nearest hand. Terry's image on the vidscreen had not prepared her for the real thing. It had taken all of her self control not to wince at the sight of him. She had rarely seen him hurt this bad, but that was not what frightened her the most.
This happening was like a slap in the face to her. To all she had come to believe in Batman's skills. The vast experience and wisdom of the elder. The undaunted courage and growing expertise of the younger. If there was one out there who could so easily, casually do this to such strong men then what chance did anyone have? Someone or someones had overridden all the security protocols of the batmobile and suit, kidnapped Terry, tortured him and sent him back, via a gang of nondescript Jokerz, to the only person who would realize the significance of it all. The original Batman. Mentor of the new Batman.
Whoever did this knew Bruce and knew how to manipulate his weakness by sending his protege back to him in this condition. Telling Bruce what he thought of his so-called successor. Showing him what a failure the idea was. What a failure Batman was.
She glanced up at Bruce, tension in her soft voice. "He's so cold."
Terry's hand clasped hers, stopping its movement. His words were faint.
"I'm okay Max." He fought to keep weighted lids open. He wanted to reassure her knowing how much she worried. He wanted her to stay in his life and she would not if he could not convince her there was no reason for her concerns. Not likely to work this time when he was too weak to stay awake much less sit up and show her how okay he was. Another failure to add to all the others. She had been the only 'normal' reality in his life for years. While he had struggled with his long slow rise into the insane world of Batman she had been the strong tether to keep him grounded to a portion of the real world and a gentle buffer against Bruce's cold and sometimes harsh mentoring ways. All painful realizations he had come to after she had left, plus an emptiness inside him so complete, it hurt.
Desperation gave him strength to grip her hand tight and beseech her attentive look. "Promise you won't leave," he murmured pulling her hand closer to his body. "Stay with me Max."
She blinked as her dark eyes began to glisten with moisture. "I'm not going anywhere." A reassuring squeeze of his ice-cold hand and a gentle grin came before Maxine could manage to speak again. "I'm gone for a few weeks and look what kind of mess you get into." Soft husky words teased. "What am I gonna do with you McGinnis?" She wanted to touch his face, sooth the haunted look she saw in his eyes, but could find no place to settle her fingers that would not touch a swelling or a bruise or a cut already there.
Terry tried to smile, but his face was to stiff too comply and his throat so tight he could only whisper.
"Made it too easy for me when you were around. Got spoiled."
"I'll keep that in mind for future reference. No more lively debates or singing those little ditties over the link when you get bored. And absolutely no more massages unless you beg me for them. That should toughen you up in no time." A momentary twinkle of amusement in his eyes told her what his facial expression could not.
"Missed you," he sighed, eyes closing tiredly.
"Hey." She drawled gently, wanting to keep him awake to stave off the shock that was pulling him under. "I want to know why you missed me before you head off into dreamy land. Tell me what you missed most about me. A woman needs to hear those things you know?" When he did not respond she squeezed his hand again. "Terry. Talk to me."
His lids struggled to open, mouth moved to speak slurred words in a low murmur. "Everything. Missed everything about you. Your voice... " He paused, trying to focus on her. "Knowing you were always there... waiting for me."
She watched his eyes drift shut again, felt his hand begin to relax in her grip. "Terry?"
He roused himself, effort visible. "How long?"
"We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes." Max reassured.
"No. How long have I... been gone?"
Bruce answered. "Almost sixty hours."
"Huh. S'that all. Seems like... weeks." He made a noise that might have been a chuckle, then shifted as a spasm of pain made him squirm.
"Who did this Terry." Bruce's gruff voice held suppressed outrage.
"Don't know." He could not get his eyes to stay open and he wanted them open so he could see Max. Being able to see her meant everything could be right again. "Never forget her face though. Better tell the Commish... she's trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Don't know."
"You must know something or you wouldn't be saying that."
"Just... she doesn't want Batman in the way." Exertion to continue talking was telling in Terry's voice.
"What about a location. Any idea wh-- "
"Bruce." Tim objected sternly. "Save it for later."
Terry answered, words increasingly sluggish. "Couldn't see... much. North... the car... went.. north. Sor..ry."
"It's okay Terry." Tim spoke firm reassurance, turning his head away from the road towards the young man for a moment. "You're going to be all right. You hear me?" Memory of his own experience of mistreatment had reared its ugly head the moment he had seen Terry on the vidscreen. He had made a silent vow to help in any way he could. Right now Terry needed reassurance, not an interrogation. "You will be all right." Max's voice wavered behind him.
"He can't hear you anymore. I can barely feel his pulse... Bruce?" There was a childish pleading quality to her tone when she said that name. Bruce's gruff reassurance was no more than Tim expected, yet it was enough.
"He'll be all right."
Bruce's body virtually creaked as he resumed a straight posture in his seat. Tim pressed a strong hand on the elderly man's shoulder. He knew, despite all Bruce's years of living through the worst that life could offer, that he needed reassurance as much as anyone. "He's strong. He'll be able to work through this."
Closing his eyes for a moment, Bruce rumbled weary agreement "I know."