DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl # 7
All in a Lifetime's Work
Part3
Cassandra's Cave
Tatsu, garbed in her usual heroine attire as that of Katana, felt the sword in her hand, checking it's balance, examining the make of the steel. Forged in modern metals by a Japanese family of weapons-smiths that dated back centuries, Tatsu knew that the sword she held in her hand would have been the envy of her warrior ancestors and was one of the most deadly weapons in Gotham. It was perfect in every way a sword could be...yet that didn't make it feel right in her hands.
It was only natural, Tatsu supposed, that she'd miss the sword she'd been using almost the entirety of her career as Katana. This one was heavier, be it only by a few ounces, and didn't carry a fraction of the power her original did. But then again, it didn't have to. She was retired, after all and this one would do in a pinch.
Tatsu swung the sword, taking it's measure. Silently, she moved through several katas, fighting back silent enemies in her mind, practicing until her sword was simply a lethal extension of her own body.
Just as Tatsu has finished, she sensed a silent presence approaching her from the rear. With fluid grace, she spun around, swinging her sword downwards, then up stopping barely a hair's breath away from the young woman's chin.
Cassandra Cain, dressed in her full Batgirl costume, didn't so much as flinch.
"You're ready."
Tatsu was amazed how Cassandra, just like her mentor, could make such a statement of fact while at the same time, making it an order well. Tatsu found that it rubbed her the wrong way now as it did with Bruce, but decided to let it slide for tonight, at least for now.
"It's a good night for a family evening together, don't you think?"
Cassandra stood there for a moment, as if for a loss for words. For a long moment, she looked as if she might reply, but instead turned on her heels and strode towards the exit.
Katana steathed her sword and followed her adopted daughter out, "Lovely night for a casual stroll."
&&&
The 86 Avenue Killers heard their front door smash open from where they were playing poker in the kitchen, and instantly assumed it was a raid.
As three time losers, bail jumpers and parole violators all, the gang had long ago vowed as one not to go into the night without a fight.
They came barreling out of the kitchen and into the living room, ready for the worst. They were shocked by what they saw, which they had expected to be a SWAT team waiting for them, but instead found a slender young girl, dressed in black and wearing an emblem feared across the Gotham underworld.
Batgirl stood atop 'The Big B', one of their steroid abusing and the splintered remains of their front door. Her stance was casual, dismissive. With a nod of her hand, she beckoned the group of five forward before flipping backwards out the door.
"Get 'er!" Several men yelled at once.
Cassandra landed on the lawn, skidding to a halt and waited patiently for her first opponent.
The first man was a short, pug nosed man with more facial hair than brains. He waited until his feet hit the lawn before drawing his usually large piece and taking aim at the young vigilante.
Batgirl was within arm's length almost instantly. With uncanny speed, she reached out with her right hand and switched on the gun's safety. Her left arm then came down on the man's inner elbow while her right hand guided the man's hand, and gun, into his face. A loud -whack!- was heard, and the man then fell to the ground unconscious.
The next man came at her with his fists alone, unwilling to believe that such a slender girl was a match for him. Standing six feet tall and having more muscles than brains, he would have been right in any other.
Batgirl feigned a duck to the left, and when her foe threw his punch, went to the right and struck a nerve bundle just under his armpit with her straightened fingers. The man cried out in pain and swung his arm backwards, hoping to catch Batgirl.
Cassandra casually ducked under the swing, and slammed her flattened palm into the center of the man's chest, followed up by a blow to his liver and ended with a swift round house kick to the face. The thug fell backwards like a brick wall, and didn't get back up.
The last three men rushed onto the lawn and surrounded Batgirl. Two of them, brothers who had seen their fair share of trouble side by side, moved against her as one.
Batgirl met their charge easily. Stepping towards the brother on her right, Cassandra lashed out with both her left foot and fist, catching each brother in the face and breaking their nose at the exact same instant. With both men distracted by blood and pain of their bleeding noses, Cassandra was free to pick her targets casually.
Focusing on one brother, Cassandra released a series of rabbit punches so quickly, no human eye would have been able count how many landed. Just as the first brother was beginning to fall, Cassandra swung her first around with all her strength, connecting with the second brother's jaw and rendering him instantly unconscious.
Then, in one fluid motion, Cassandra removed two Bataranges from her belt, and gripped them in her fists so that only the bladed ends were still visible. Turning towards the final gang member, Cassandra crossed her arms across her chest, making it appear as if she might let her weapons fly at any moment.
Johnny 'Spider', to his credit, managed to retain both control of his senses and bladder as he watched Batgirl utterly demolish his gang. He'd drawn his old pistol and had a bead on Batgirl, but fear kept him from pulling the trigger. At first, it was fear of hitting his friends. Now, it was fear of missing, and what she'd do with those damned batarangs when...not if, but when, he missed.
"Drop your weapon, and… I'll drop mine," proposed Batgirl.
A bead of sweat dripped down Johnny's face, "Yeah, like you don't know a million ways to kill me with just your pinky."
"Won't use my fists," Cassandra offered, "you have my word. Drop your gun, and it's just you against my feet. Think...that you're man enough for that?"
Johnny snorted, clicked the safety on his weapon, and tossed it aside like a broken toy. Batgirl held her arms out to show her weapons, and then dropped them. Placing her hands behind her back, Cass smiled. Every now and then, she loved to satisfy her darker impulses on the scum of Gotham as a little treat to herself.
Johnny lunged forward with all the skill of a drunken brawler, throwing a better than average right hook. Cassandra's left foot came up and knocked the blow aside. Balancing on her right left, Cassandra kicked outwards with her left leg, her boot missing Johnny's face by inches.
But Cassandra didn't miss when she brought her foot back, hooking her leg against the back of his head. With strength that Johnny didn't think any young woman could possess, she pulled him to the ground with just her left leg and trapped him by his neck in between her legs.
Her grip was like iron, and it was all Johnny could do to draw breath. He never knew how dangerous one of his greatest fantasies could be up until now.
"This was just an object lesson," Batgirl didn't even bother to turn her head in his direction, "you will tell...everyone...what happened here. What I did...to your crew. How easily…! it was accomplished."
"Not...damn...likegahh!" Johnny struggled to breathe as Batgirl flexed her muscles ever so slightly.
"You should," Batgirl informed him, "because they'll know regardless."
Johnny realized what Batgirl was talking about almost instantly. A quick glance around, even in his position, revealed that half the block had come out and had seen their fight.
Well, Batgirl's fight and their utter defeat.
"Might want to get your own…" Cassandra paused as she almost forgot the word she had chosen, "spin…on what happened here."
Batgirl released Johnny, retrieved her weapons and then slipped into the shadows.
Johnny climbed to his feet slowly, mindful of his unconscious friends and the crowd of neighbors that he and his gang had terrorized daily that seemed emboldened by how easily Batgirl had brought them all low.
Fifteen minutes later, several patrol cars pulled up to the house, with warrants for the majority of the 86 Avenue Killers. Though no one came out and said it, it was obvious to everyone who placed the call.
&&&
Katana leaned back against the edge of the roof and poured herself some tea from a canteen as she waited for Cassandra to return.
Not for the first time, Tatsu wondered if she was doing right by the girl, to allow her to continue to operate as a vigilante when she needed so much outside of her role as a crime fighter. To live, work and breathe as just a normal girl, not a trained fighter who prowled the city every night.
But at the same time, Tatsu knew that it would all but impossible to pull Cassandra away from this life. When one became a costumed hero, they assumed a burden that was all but impossible to set down again. Tatsu herself had started out as Katana to avenge her husband and children, and when that was accomplished, stayed a heroine. Part of it was because of the pain…but another issue was that she had inadvertently gained a heightened awareness of what was wrong in the world. She found that, at times, she couldn't even watch the news without some small part of her feeling guilty for not being involved in whatever tragedy was occurring.
Without her primary weapon, Tatsu found retirement more tolerable than she otherwise might, but knew that such a 'culture shock' for Cassandra would be more than she could handle.
No sooner had she finished that thought, than Tatsu heard Batgirl's boots touch down on the roof behind her.
"Finished?"
"Yes. What…what now?" Cassandra, try as she might, still found it difficult asking someone outside the Bat-family for advise. Heck, unless they were Oracle or Batman, Cass found it hard even then.
"Well, now that you've beaten the local alpha wolves for everyone to see, you need a reliable informant," explained Tatsu, "someone close to the muscle, but one affiliated with the mob or anyone else. Good information is what determines how effective a crimefighter can be."
Cassandra nodded, following the logic easily and then, begrudgingly admitted, "I don't...have an idea...of where to go."
"Nor would I, if I'd spent a year in a coma," Tatsu said, softening the blow to Cass' ego, "Gotham has changed dramatically since you last patrolled it regularly. Luckily, I asked Oracle for a possible resources. She had one suggestion in particular, that she asked us to check out. She hasn't been able to get the information that she would like, to fully understand what the situation on the ground is. So you'll have to access once inside."
"Understood."
&&&
Bill Silver's Gym
"'ey yo! Bill! The damn shower's backed up again! You might wanna get off your lazy ass and fix that damn thing!"
Bill Silver leaned back in his chair and felt just another small part of himself just break. In the six years since he'd opened this gym, the retired boxer had found that maintaining a gym in Gotham was expensive, in both body and soul.
Bruce the Barracuda, big as a brick wall and twice as smart, was one of those 'expenses'. Hired as a janitor slash bouncer the 'suggestion' of a local mob guy as a favor, the muscle bound bastard rarely did a damn thing to actually clean the place.
To Billy, Bruce was a constant reminder of the moral compromises Gotham had forced upon his shoulders. A useless thug for a janitor, allowing streek punks to hone their muscle and fists on his equipment at a discounted cost, turning a blind eye to the steroid abuse going on in his own locker rooms and too much else.
Cursing both fate and himself, Billy didn't notice at first the black clad form that had strolled in the front door (which had been locked). Not until Bruce shouted, at least.
"..Holy...Billy! It's one o' them freaks!"
Billy snapped his head to the side to see Bruce charge towards the female figure and felt his heart drop in his chest. Costumed freaks always spelled property damage. He observed as Batgirl easily side stepped Bruce and began running towards one of the two boxing rings his gym had, with Bruce hot on her heels.
He watched as Batgirl jumped up on the edge of the ring, flipped backwards and land on Bruce's shoulder with such grace he almost thought it was rehearsed. Batgirl didn't waste a moment, bringing her elbow down with such strength and precision that with just two blows, the six foot six steroid abusing good for nothin' fell like a cut tree.
Billy nearly wet himself when she turned her head towards him. But what she said next truly surprised him.
"You don't like what's done here...do you?"
"What...what're you talking about?"
Batgirl gave him a scathing look that to cut him to the quick.
"You know."
Billy shook his head and looked towards the ground, "This is Gotham, lady. Ain't nothing I can do about it, even if I wanna."
"There is," Batgirl corrected, "you can help me. They don't notice you...do they?"
"Ha! They act like I'm not there!" Billy did the math instantly, "and that works just alright for you, don't it?"
Batgirl nodded.
"You got yourself a deal, sweetheart. You'd be shocked how much I hear these bastards talk shop. I seem to think I'm deaf! Hell, if you want, I'll show you wear you can place some bugs!"
Batgirl reached into her belt and pressed a button, "This man is wanted. Anyone asks...that's why I came."
"Sounds great to me! How do I contact you?"
Batgirl turned on her heels, "You won't. I'll contact you."
As he watched Batgirl leave, Billy felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. No longer was he passively contributing to the decay of the town of his birth. Now, he was actually part of the solution!
Suddenly, that simple clog didn't seem so bad.
&&&
Arthur Brown, once known as the third string villain Cluemaster, spared a glance over his shoulder as he shuffled down the dark alley, more out of habit than genuine fear. He now found that, unlike the old days, a small part of him wished that he actually was being followed, that there was creepy night time vigilante waiting to beat him up.
Anything to lessen the guilt.
Finally, he reached his destination. He knocked twice, waited ten seconds, and knocked one final time.
"Password?" shouted someone through the door.
"Scarface," Arthur replied humorlessly. The password was obviously mocking, referring to the web of scars across his face. The scars were so thick and heavy, they were actually an effective disguise from those who knew his face before the…accident.
Still, Arthur knew he had no right to complain about the password. He was the one who chose it, after all.
"Come on in, boss man!"
The boy (he wasn't a man until he did time, as far as Arthur was concerned) waved him in eagerly. The three other members of his crew were standing around their meeting table, looking over the blue prints he'd had them steal.
Ironically, Arthur couldn't remember a time when he was more successful, now that his daughter was dead and Gotham's night protectors had their attention turned...elsewhere. There was a wide margin between failure and infamy that would bring heroes down upon your head.
Naturally, with that frame of mind, Brown didn't even bother look towards the shadows and thus, missed the single one that moved.
The crew looked towards Arthur with a rare amount of respect and energy, but despite himself the former Cluemaster found he couldn't return a fraction of it. He was living, if it could truly be called that, on autopilot, returning to the only thing he really knew. The only thing he had left.
Crime.
"Alright, what do we have here," Brown looked over the plans for first Nation Bank of Gotham, his first 'big job' with this gang, and almost instantly, his mind had created a half dozen plans for cleaning the place out. Some better than others obviously, but all of them better than anything this collection of thugs could create.
"How much is the loot gonna be from this thing, do you think?" asked one member.
Brown sighed. It was never a good thing when they focused on the cash first, and not the job. It always led to problems.
Still, Arthur couldn't bring himself to care beyond an intellectual level. Freedom, prison, what was the difference to a man who no longer had anything to lose?
Had his heart been in his business, he would have been instantly suspicious when the lights began to flicker for a few moments, then finally failed.
"Man..."
"This never happens in the movies, man," joked one man.
"No it doesn't," offered a new voice. The lights flickered back to life, revealing a Batgirl sitting on their planning table in a lotus position, "but in Gotham...it's only a matter of time."
Action is faster than reaction. It's a law of physics.
That's something Cassandra used to full effect as the thugs surrounding her still processed the fact that a Bat was in their midst. Pushing down and balancing on her hands, Cassandra lashed out with her feet, slamming her steel heeled boots into the men on each side of her. She then swung her legs around to disable man number three, and by the time the fourth and final man had gotten around to reaching for his weapon, Cassandra had already removed a batarang and sent it flying towards his skull.
Glancing around, Cassandra saw that Arthur Brown had actually made it ten feet towards the door, towards relative freedom.
A smile passed across her lips.
&&&
Arthur Brown ran with a belly full of anger, unwilling to be taken in by those God damned Bats. As he reached the mouth of the alley, he actually believed for a split second that he might actually escape their wrath.
He had taken only a single step onto the sidewalk before he felt a cord wrap around his ankle, and pulled tight.
"No!"
The once costumed villain fell forward hard, painfully. He didn't notice at first how he was being pulled back into the alley, like a fish caught on a hook.
But then he remembered Stephanie, he remembered his shame and he remembered his rage.
"You think you're going to throw me in jail! You think you have any right to judge me, to punish me!"
Batgirl allowed Brown to climb to his feet and come courageously close. She knew, even without paying attention to what his body was saying, that he thought words were his most dangerous weapons.
"People like you killed my daughter! What right do you have to destroy my life even more!"
Batgirl could feel his hot breath on her face, and remembering her friend, his daughter, she found that she really, really wanted to let her control slip, and introduce this man to all the thousands of ways she knew to cripple, or even worse.
But then, Cluemaster wasn't the only one who could use words as a weapon.
"She wasn't out there because of me," Batgirl said simply. Cluemaster flinched backwards, as if struck.
"I worked with her. Protected her. Trained her. But never once...did I force her to go out."
Arthur's eyes began to water, "Don't you talk like you knew her..."
"You locked her in a closet...as a child," Batgirl countered, "she remembered that...very well."
Brown slumped to his knees sobbing, no longer able to maintain the facade of an outraged parent. An exceptionally intelligent man, Brown knew each and every instance of abuse and neglect he'd heaped on his now dead daughter. Those long sixteen years of memories hit him all at once, too much for any sane man to bear.
"What...what do you want with me?" he finally asked.
"You're a good..." Cassandra tried to remember the word, "resource. Sharp mind. You know Gotham. I could use that."
"...why?"
Batgirl allowed the question to hang in the air for a moment, as she took out her grappling hook and fired it at the nearest building.
"I couldn't save her. The least I could do for her now...is save you."
&&&
Batgirl landed in front of Katana in a crouch. Cass took a moment to access her guardian's mood before she reported.
"It's done."
Tatsu nodded silently.
"You're concerned…about something."
"Always," answered Tatsu, "in fact, it's one of my jobs now."
"No, about this. About him."
Tatsu thought about her answer carefully before replying, "Yes, I am. To be blunt Cassandra, when I suggested you find help understanding the sociopaths that infest Gotham, I wanted you to go to Nightwing, or perhaps Oracle for advise. I didn't mean for you to go to Cluemaster, of all people."
"Spent time in Arkum," Cassandra defended, "he's sane enough to recognize… the patterns to their insanity."
"I know, but…"
"I also meant what I said. If I couldn't save her, then I need… to save him."
Tatsu paused, then sighed, "That's another concern of mine. You've seen a lot in your time Cassandra. More than you ever should. But I doubt that even you, and I hope you never do, can understand the grief of a parent who has lost a child. It burns white hot, and can lead to hasty choices without regards to consequences. His guilt can turn to anger instantly."
"I'll know," Batgirl replied, "but I have to… chance it. Besides…he can't lie to me."
Batgirl was a little surprised to see the pride in Tatsu's smile as she nodded in agreement.
"That's very true. Still, that's enough business for tonight. Lets head home."
Batgirl shook her head, "I've barely started patrol."
"You have school tomorrow," Tatsu replied, "we've stayed out too long as is. Remember, so long as I'm responsible for you, you'll follow my rules."
Katana turned away and began sprint across the roof top, towards home. Batgirl bristled for a moment, but followed the elder heroine.
This time.
&&&
23rd Gotham Precinct
Detective Peter Akins glanced over his paper work for the third time, making sure it was up to police department standards. It wasn't as if he was a perfectionist, but with a 'cape case' hanging over his head and forensics not yet back, it was all he could do.
As if in answer to his prayers, the phone rang.
"Akins!"
"Hey Pete! It's Abby!" Peter rolled his eyes, as if anyone could forget their metahuman forensic scientist. In high demand and short supply, Abby was one of three such scientists that Gotham had managed to lure in.
And naturally, anyone who was so fascinated with the meta-human world…wasn't all there in the head, no matter how smart.
"Got my results for me?"
"Sure do, buddy! You sitting down?"
"I'm at my desk."
That doesn't mean you're sitting down! Lots of people stand at their desk! I don't even have a chair here! Not because I hate them, 'cause I don't but because…"
"Abby…" Peter sighed.
"Oh, right! The results!" The Detective could hear Abby chew her lip, trying to explain her findings in plain English, "Well, the good news is that we got a hit on both the DNA and finger prints. We…kinda have a positive ID."
"And the bad news?"
"The finger prints and even DNA all match 23 other corpses found around the world," Abby explained.
It took the Detective a moment to process that fact.
"How…how is that even possible?"
"They're real, honest to God clones!" Abby answered, "All of one guy, a famous World War Two hero, Paul DeKirk, went by the name Manhunter. There were several other bodies just like this one, found dead on the east coast. Hell, one of the stiffs was killed just outside of Gotham a couple of years ago!"
"I don't suppose there's anything on the body to indicate what they were doing in Gotham?"
"'Fraid not," Abby admitted, "but Pete? Cloned super soldiers lurking in the city and being mysteriously killed off? You don't need to be a detective to know that means nothing good."
Next issue: 'Nature's War' begins as two factions clash in Gotham. One side is trying to resurrect an old evil, another side is trying to stop them. But Cassandra isn't sure what side she's on!