DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl # 43
Irresistible Forces
Part 3
Leaving Bludhaven
"Murderers. Thieves. You stand in the way of justice," the Spirit of Vengeance leveled her weapons at Batgirl, Ken and the Killer Elite. Her voice was like broken glass, "you stand in the way of the Crimson Avenger."
Batgirl and the Killer Elite froze. Knowledge of the Crimson Avenger had been spread by the Society, while Batman himself had placed Crimson Avenger in a special category for his protégés, alongside such beings as the Spectre and Phantom Stranger.
The Crimson Avenger wasn't a human who used magic, but rather magic who used a human. Her bullets had pierced the flesh of Power Girl, she could teleport over vast distances and though she had no great strength, was virtually immune to any physical damage.
When Batgirl and the Killer Elite looked at the Crimson Avenger, they saw a threat they were completely unprepared for, who made their skills and abilities almost irrelevant.
But when Ken looked at Crimson Avenger, he saw something else entirely.
"Karen?" Ken's heart fluttered with joy, "Karen! You need to aim for the head!"
The Crimson Avenger and Karen shared only a gender and comparable skin tone. No one who knew them even in passing would have mistaken them for one another.
But what Ken saw and what he hoped for were two different things. Like everyone else, he could feel the magic in the air, the taste of copper in the back of his mouth.
So he convinced himself that Karen had stepped down from Heaven to open his skull with a bullet and cast him down to hell. The mere thought of it, being murdered by his own victim, made Ken happier than he had been in months.
"That is not my daughter, you racist idiot," Mr. Page growled.
Batgirl observed the ring on Mr. Page's finger, and Crimson Avenger's rigid body language. She had aimed her weapons, but despite the presence of vile criminals, no bullets had been fired from her mystic, triggerless guns.
"Hey buddy," Deadline kept one eye trained on Crimson Avenger, "we called dibs on this one. Bounty's ours."
"I put out the bounty myself," Mr. Page sneered, "you clearly failed to deliver, so I'm handling it myself. Don't expect a penny from me."
Batgirl had placed herself between the Crimson Avenger and Ken, simply looked back over her shoulder.
"Deadline, this bounty," she said, "it really worth it? The risk?"
Deadline chuckled, "Well said, kid. Pathfinder, get us out of here."
The hired killer leveled his eyes on Mr. Page.
"Enjoy your revenge, champ. You won't be able to savor it long, that's a promise."
Batgirl felt a brief sense of relief as she sensed the Killer Elite teleport away. They were one less complication in a situation that was still far too deadly, far too volatile.
"Idiots," Mr. Page sneered, having already forgotten them. He cast his gaze towards Ken, who shrunk back, "wrong, too. I intend to savor…"
The batarang struck Mr. Page upside his head, and as he stumbled, Batgirl tackled Crimson Avenger, who had simply stood there, dumbstruck.
Crimson Avenger's back slammed onto the floor of the railcar, and before she could react, Batgirl had brought her elbow smashing down on Crimson Avenger's nose.
For a long moment, Batgirl hesitated. What she had just done would have crippled a regular person, and for a split second, fear of doing exactly that made Batgirl freeze.
But then Crimson Avenger began to fade into red smoke, and Batgirl began to realize the kind of trouble she was in.
The creature of vengeance reappeared before Batgirl, and again pointed her weapons.
Not wanting to give Crimson Avenger a chance to put a bullet in her skull, Batgirl tackled her. The two went down in a tangle of bodies, and Batgirl reigned down blow after blow, all the while knowing she was only occupying her enemy, not stopping her.
Ken watched as Batgirl and Crimson Avenger exchanged blows, like a deer in headlights.
"Bastard!"
Mr. Page smashed a crowbar across Ken's face. Ken, a man not designed for verbal confrontation let alone physical, fell backwards in shock. Ken raised his hands to protect himself, as Mr. Page loomed over him, rage written all over his face.
"Tell me the truth," Mr. Page slapped the crowbar in his hand, "you asked her out, and she rejected you. That's why you killed her, isn't it?"
Ken looked at Mr. Page, baffled. Ken would no sooner date someone from his office than he would run into oncoming traffic. Work was where he went to get away from his life, where no one knew just how small a person he really was.
But Ken couldn't find the words to say that, so instead said, "I don't even know if Karen liked guys."
"My daughter," Mr. Page slammed the crowbar down on Ken's head with enough strength to kill a man, "was not a pervert!"
Ken was left stunned mentally but still unharmed physically, as Karen's father towered over him. There were any number of ways Ken might have fought back, but he could barely bring himself to face Mr. Page's outrage.
"I know you took pleasure in mocking the justice system," Mr. Page hissed, "well, that's at an end. I've a mystic dagger I've been assured could gut even Superman."
When he heard that, Ken immediately felt his spirit jump as high as when he first saw the Crimson Avenger. In all past attempts to complete his death sentence, not once had the government used magic. Whether it was because they didn't have any, or weren't willing to risk its destruction, Ken didn't know.
But he did know that there was at least a chance it might work.
"I think you need to use the dagger quickly," Ken said, "my powers degrade anything that's a potential threat. They've never been tested against magic, but-"
The crowbar came crashing down on Ken's head again, causing no more harm than if it were made of foam. But Ken recoiled all the same, unable to face Mr. Page's fury.
So as Batgirl fought to contain Crimson Avenger, Ken endured a beating that couldn't harm a hair on his head, even as Ken sought to convince the man assaulting him how best to kill him.
oooOOooo
Gotham
Abel Thorn, known to the criminal world as Silver Shrike, paced back and forth. There was supposed to be a delivery arriving soon, but in idle moments like this, Abel had little idea what to do with himself.
The crew he was with, four men his Uncle assigned to this job, were in the corner playing cards talking about their wives, girlfriends and TV shows and all other things Abel didn't care about. He simply wanted to be training, or putting his training to use.
A half hour into moping, Silver Shrike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and is instincts informed him that something was amiss, though they weren't attned enough to inform him of what.
"I think we have an issue," Silver Shrike said to his crew. He unholstered his guns, "inform the specialists, they should be en-route, right?"
Silver Shrike did a sweep of the building's parameter, eyes searching every shadow, every crevice that might hide a secret. He looked towards the rooftops, knowing the preference of the crimefighters of Gotham.
Abel had examined the outer parameter of the warehouse with the intensity of a microscope three times, before Fowler informed him that the truck was only minutes away.
"Looks like it was nothin', Abel," Walter said dismissively, "we had a good card game goin', man."
"Sorry," Silver Shrike said sheepishly.
"Come on, we gotta take delivery of the 'merch," Walter said. He nodded towards the truck that had begun backing up into the warehouse, "and I want you nearby. I don't trust those two freaks."
"Yeah, okay."
Silver Shrike followed behind Walter. They arrived back in the warehouse, just as the rear door to the truck folded upwards, revealing both its cargo and two special protectors.
"Greetings comrades," said KGBeast. Four hundred pounds of muscle in a three hundred pound bag leapt down from the truck as silent as a cat, "I have your Russian delicacies, and your special order. My dear, please bring suitcase."
A young woman, wearing a gray suit and a no nonsense demeanor, appeared next to Walter as if out of thin air. The middle aged thug jumped back a step, like a frightened animal. But the young woman neither smirked nor scowled, smiled or reacted in any meaningful way. She simply stood there patiently, allowing Walter a moment to recover before offering him the briefcase
"Echo, please be more considerate," KGBeast chided.
"…thanks," Walter said.
"This is just the start," KGBeast said, "we need to talk the security arrangements. The driver tells me there was an issue?"
"Nah, just Silver here wanting to shoot someone," Walter elbowed Silver Shrike affectionately, "if there was someone here, we'd know about it."
Not far from Walter, there was a well earned smirk.
oooOOoo
Leaving Bludhaven
If there was at least one thing Batgirl enjoyed about fighting Crimson Avenger, it was the complete lack of banter.
The mystic creature of vengeance had nothing to say, no clever boasts, no hints of brutality, nothing. Just violence exchanged between them.
Everything else, Batgirl found, was a pure nightmare.
Punching her was like hitting a corpse. Her body was cold and rigid, like a wall. Crimson Avenger ignored every nerve strike Batgirl landed, her assault on her joints and ignored three solid hits to the liver that would have left a heavyweight boxer hobbled with pain.
Worse were the trigger-less guns. Several times they had fired, each time coming closer and closer. The usual warning signs Batgirl had trained herself to see, to react to, were completely absent in her. The guns literally had a mind of their own.
Batgirl's boot connected with Crimson Avenger's midsection, but the woman barely flinched before stepping forward, leveling her guns at Batgirl.
"Why are you doing this?" Batgirl grabbed Crimson Avenger's wrists, forced them up towards the ceiling, "he doesn't deserve this!"
Batgirl saw Crimson Avenger's jaw tremble for a moment, as if the secret itself was a physical thing trying to escape.
But the second passed, and Crimson Avenger simply stalked forward. Batgirl tried to dig her heels in, but Crimson Avenger's strength was relentless, like a slow tide forcing her back against the railcar's wall.
Struggling to hold the Crimson Avenger back, Batgirl could only watch helplessly as Mr. Page continued to assault Ken.
oooOOoo
"I don't care what kind of lip she might have given you," Mr. Page brought the crowbar down on Ken's shoulder blades. The blow would have broken bone in an ordinary man, but Ken barely noticed.
"Gave me lip?" Ken said, baffled. Ken could remember all the times Karen had to fix his mistakes, correct his missteps with the clients. Each and every time, he had expected her to turn on him, to yell and shout about his blatant stupidity, yet not once did she ever no matter how much he thought she should have.
At the time, Ken had simply thought that she was building towards something. That Karen's patience and understanding, her polite corrections, were simply the buildup for an explosion that would only get bigger as time went on. That every kindness now would simply be a verbal evisceration later, and it would have been no less than what Ken thought he deserved, even before his heinous act.
Ironically, it was because such a thing never happened, that Karen never exploded at him, was part of the reason why Ken had lashed out like he had. Ken saw his dismissal from his firm as a foregone conclusion from day one, but the respectful exit interview felt like a cruel prank compared to what Ken thought he earned at that point.
Only after his first attempt to end his life, did Ken allow himself to realize the truth that would have been obvious to anyone else. Karen's respect never a mask or prank, but genuine and real.
"Why would you say that?" Ken said, genuinely confused, "Karin was always nice."
"Still a smug bastard, huh?"
Mr. Page swung the crowbar across Ken's chin one last time, doing no more harm than the first time, before dropping it. He reached behind his back, and produced a curved dagger.
Both Ken and Batgirl felt something in their bones, bile instinctively raising in the back of their throats. Whatever the origin of the dagger in the man's hand, there was no questioning its foul nature.
Batgirl didn't know if the magic was enough to overcome Ken's meta-human abilities. Nightwing had often remarked that when science and magic met, it was science that was left limping and bleeding. But jokes were hardly something you could rely on in the field.
Mr. Page raised the dagger slowly, and even from behind, struggling to hold back the Crimson Avenger, Batgirl could see how he savored Ken's impending death, the power that the dagger gave him.
Batgirl only had a second, but she saw something else, and a really bad idea occurred to her.
"My guns only seek vengeance," Crimson Avenger hissed, her voice tinged with a strange echo, "why do you stand in their way?"
Batgirl brought her elbow down upon Crimson Avengers nose, stunning her for a moment.
Batgirl knew it wouldn't last long, so she grabbed one of Crimson Avenger's triggerless guns, and pointed it aside.
Blam!
"Argh!"
A single finger, wrapped in a gold ring, fell to the ground, followed by the foul dagger that broke like glass when it struck the ground.
Batgirl observed Crimson Avenger's body language change in an instant. The creature of vengeance took one look at Batgirl, nodded and took a polite step back.
"You bitch!" Mr. Page spun around, clutching his hand, blood seeping through his fingers, "do you have any idea what you've done? The monster you've saved!"
"There's only one monster here," Batgirl replied.
"Agreed."
In a blur of motion, Crimson Avenger leveled her gun at Batgirl, and fired seven quick shots, all striking the young woman center mass. Batgirl fell limp to the floor, while Ken and Mr. Page looked on in shock.
"Batgirl!" Ken shouted. He rushed to the vigilante's aside, brushing past Crimson Avenger, who herself stomped towards Mr. Page.
"You perverted my mission."
Mr. Page could feel waves of anger rolling off of Crimson Avenger. Like heat from a scorching oven, only he could feel.
"Stole me from my path."
"He had to pay!" Mr. Page spat, "I shouldn't have had to make you! Why did you fight me? How could you?"
Crimson Avenger stopped.
And then smiled, flashing decayed teeth.
"Would you like to know?" Crimson Avenger said, "would you really like to know, what genuine contrition and remorse feels like to a creature of vengeance?"
Mr. Page had barely heard what Crimson Avenger said, before she was upon him, her fingers slipping into his skull as if it were water.
"Batgirl, Batgirl, get up!"
Ken tried to shake the vigilante awake, heedless of the fact that she wasn't unconscious, just stunned.
Later, Batgirl would make a note in the Crimson Avenger's file that she could control the velocity of her supernatural bullets. None of them had penetrated her uniform or broken her skin, but it felt like she had been kicked by a mule, and could barely take a full breath.
So Batgirl could only watch, wracked with too much pain to move, as terror unlike anything she had seen before swept across Mr. Page's body.
"No, no nonono!"
Mr. Page jerked away from Crimson Avenger, and then rushed to the railcar's sliding door. In one fluid motion, he swung it open with all his might.
There was no hesitation when Mr. Page saw the cliff side racing by below him. He only felt the anticipation of release, as he flung himself down below.
Crimson Avenger turned towards Batgirl and Ken, who regarded her with horror and anger.
"I wish…," Crimson Avenger's voice sounded human for the first time, "I wish I had been more like the two of you."
The Crimson Avenger looked away, before vanishing into a red mist.
oooOOoo
Later
By the time the train arrived in Gotham, Batgirl had recovered somewhat. Able to stand she made some arrangements, speaking to Oracle on the radio, out of earshot of Ken before remotely summoning a Bat-mobile near the train yard.
Ken dutifully followed after her, too wrapped up in his misery to give much thought to where they might be heading.
Only when they pulled into the gravel road of a graveyard on the outskirts of Gotham, did Ken realize that they weren't heading to any jail or police department.
"Where are we?" Ken said, as he looked around. He saw a man approaching with a badge on his belt, "why are we here and not at the police station?"
"This is where Batgirl insisted on your handover," said Detective Atkins, "after you have a few words with someone, that is."
Batgirl placed a reassuring hand on Ken's shoulder, as he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw an older woman, balancing on a cane next to the Detective.
"Ms. Page," Ken's mouth went dry, "I…"
"I've already been informed of what happened to my ex-husband," Ms. Page waved a dismissive hand, "the man beat me like it was his job, and hadn't talked to any of his children in ten years. He allowed his anger to consume him every day of his life, and it finally caught up with him. It may not be the most Christian thing to say, but I won't miss him."
"Wait, what?" Ken said, confusion written all over his face, "but he…I don't understand…"
"I don't mean to offend, but I would guess you've had issues reading people for most of your life," Ms. Page said, "I worked in Special education for thirty years, you get a sense for it."
Ken nodded, his eyes cast down.
"It's not an excuse," Ken said softly, "what I did that night…"
"You have taken responsibility for," Ms. Page finished, "you did a terrible thing, no doubt, son. But you've shown contrition, remorse ever since and never once denied responsibility."
"…so what?" Ken said. He could barely process Ms. Page's forgiveness, choosing instead to focus on the fact that Karen was still dead, because of his ignorant actions.
"So death is not absolution," Ms. Page said, "and it's not the only form of contrition. You've accepted responsibility, and thus are entitled to some small measure of peace in return. And death isn't the only way you can get that."
Ms. Page pointed towards the grave yard, where a lone candle burned.
"I get the feeling that there's something you need to say, if only to yourself. Could you do an old lady a favor, and give it a try?"
"But I don't," Ken's voice became little more than a whisper, "I don't have the right to say that."
"I disagree," Ms. Page replied, "please, just this small favor?"
Ken felt there was nothing he had any right to deny Ms. Page, not after what he'd done. He would have crawled through broken glass just to for the right provide the slightest amount of help.
So he walked towards the candle, his entire body trembling, his eyes wet.
When Ken saw Karen's gravestone, he felt sick, unclean. Like he was desecrating a church, spitting on some Holy site. Down in his bones, he felt he had no right to be here, and it took all his courage not to turn and run.
"Hi, Karen," Ken started, feeling like an idiot before the words had even left his mouth, "I…"
"I'm sorry."
Ken gripped his face, as more and more tears fell, his chest wracked with sobs.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I made a mistake, I'm so sorry," Ken dropped to his knees, "it was stupid, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
oooOOoo
Batgirl lingered for only a few minutes, before she turned to leave.
"Batgirl?" Ms. Page said, "thank you. For bringing him here, and for saving his life, if it was actually in danger. And thank you, for trying to save my daughter."
Batgirl paused.
"I should have done more," said Batgirl.
"You did all you could, and more than anyone else would have," Ms. Page said, "if I might ask a favor of you as well, sometime soon, please say that aloud."
"There's no need," Batgirl replied.
"I disagree," Ms. Page said, "truth is always best heard when spoken aloud."
oooOOooo
Later
After Batgirl docked her bike on her cave, she immediately removed her mask, and began to strip her uniform, throwing it to the ground.
Cassandra gasped as she pulled her suit off, leaving only her sports bra. She rubbed her chest, now purple and black. The most of the Crimson Avenger's bullets had hit center mass, but several had managed to hit both breasts, and the pain was moving from aching, to sharp and stabbing.
It almost distracted Cassandra enough not to notice that there was someone uninvited in her cave, sitting at her computer. But Cassandra sensed him only a few seconds after she should have, and removed an edged batarang from her belt before she unclipped it and allowed it to flop to the ground.
With a flick of her wrist, she sent it flying, curving through the air before it sank into the back of her chair.
The young man occupying the chair didn't even flinch, as the sharp end of the batarang stopped only a half inch from the back of his neck.
"Hey Cass," said Tim Drake, still reviewing files, "been a while. What's new?"
Next issue: A stand alone issue, then, Tim and Cass fly together again!
Some thoughts: So this arc was inspired by Batgirl 10. I thought it was a perfectly well written and tragic issue, and mulling it over, I always wondered what happened next, and decided on this. Hope everyone enjoyed it!
More thoughts: Yeah, I won't be watching BoP. Looks like they're using several minority characters to boost Harley, the whitest girl ever, who's power is abusive boyfriend. And Cass looks to be getting hit the hardest. So yeah, count me out