A long moment of silence transpired between Bane and Kitty following her bold-faced assumption that she had only to sleep with someone, likely him, to be released from her apparent captivity.
"I am afraid there is no option for you to leave here, Kitty Nash," Bane rumbled ominously. "Especially since you have offered your body."
"Ohhhh," Kitty pouted. "Now I've shocked you."
"On the contrary, you merely reminded me that there was a time when actresses were considered no better than whores. They emphasized their attractiveness by painting their faces and dressing provocatively in stage performances, and for that reason they were seen as publicly available women."
"Congratulations," she preened. "You've made it through the first week of Drama School 101. You're not telling me anything I don't already know."
Barsad entered the room, and Kitty immediately recognized him as the man who had forced her into her car and stuck her with a needle.
"You! What was in that syringe? And where is my purse?"
"Check this out, boss," Barsad said, ignoring Kitty as he tossed the tv remote to Bane. "You might wanna watch the news for a bit."
Bane switched on the remote and the room's large screen tv flickered to life. Kitty gasped at the sight of a third party view of her abduction earlier that evening.
The cell phone video you are now seeing was taken outside the Brett Addams theatre earlier tonight. Spectators called police after witnessing actress Kitty Nash being forcefully pushed into her car as she left the theatre for the night. Witnesses say that she was manhandled and shoved into the back seat by a bearded man, and that she was heard calling for help as the car left the scene.
As Bane surfed through the many local channels, news anchors delivered their versions of the same story, including interviews with breathless witnesses and fervent fans.
Kitty Nash, of course, is the star of…
Bane switched the channel.
"I've seen this show three times and she's such an inspiration to me. I'm praying —"
Bane sneered and switched the channel again.
"Put me in a room with him. I'll work him over but good. I've got two daughters, and if any man —".
Thoroughly disgusted, Bane switched off the giant screen.
"It seems the man has laid down his gauntlet for you, brother," Bane observed with disinterest as he tossed the remote back to Barsad.
"I accept the challenge," Barsad smirked.
"Twenty-seven people died at the Stock Exchange," Bane observed as he returned his attention to Kitty. "Fifty-three more were injured, yet all of Gotham is preoccupied with one abducted actress. That speaks volumes about the priorities of this city, does it not, Kitty Nash?"
"Can I help it if the media is reacting hysterically to something that was his doing," she demanded as she pointed at Barsad. "And by the way, there are thousands of cameras all over this city. The police will easily piece together video to locate me."
"Not likely," Barsad chimed in. "We drove your car in and out of a dozen parking garages and switched vehicles to throw them off the scent, even after we dropped you off here. They're gonna have to do a lot of groundwork."
"I think you will find in the coming days that Gotham police will be too pre-occupied to make your abduction a priority, Kitty Nash," Bane rasped, relishing her increasingly perturbed expression. "You must prepare for the reality that no one will come for you."
Kitty glanced from Bane to Barsad as the gravity of her situation started to sink in.
"What do you mean no one will come for me? Who are you people and what do you want with me?"
Bane nodded at Barsad. "Leave us for a moment, brother."
The bearded mercenary did Bane's bidding, albeit reluctantly. He wondered what it was that Bane didn't want his second-in-command hearing.
Kitty's increased anxiety combined with the side-effects of whatever Barsad had given her caused her legs to wobble, and she seated herself on the edge the bed.
"It might please you to know that I witnessed a portion of your performance this evening," Bane offered.
"I'm surprised they let you in wearing that get-up. Or did you break in and ogle me from a dark corner?"
"I watched you command an audience of over a thousand people, who stood and applauded for two minutes."
"Oh, well — a standing ovation is thrilling the first few times but honestly, it really gets old after a while," she whispered mockingly. "Night after night the same thing, and you realize people are no different than… sheep."
An unexpected smile lit up Bane's eyes. "Indeed they are. Nevertheless, Kitty Nash, you have a gift."
"So you took me because I have a gift," she said, tossing her glossy black hair.
"Earlier this evening I considered you worth saving," Bane told her truthfully, as he approached the bed. "But it's clear to me now that I was sorely mistaken."
Kitty cowered slightly in the wake of Bane's enormous shadow hovering over her. She looked away from him, uneasily pulling at the torn hem of her dress and worrying that she'd overplayed her hand. He was a large, muscular man with an intimidating mask, and she'd seen the violence he was capable of during his assault on the Stock Exchange.
"I don't get it. What did you want to save me from, and what made you come to the conclusion that I wasn't worth it?"
Bane lifted her dress's broken spaghetti strap and rolled it between his forefinger and thumb.
"You will soon know what I tried to save you from. As to me changing my mind, I simply discovered that you are unladylike. You use crude language and you proposition men."
Kitty frowned, highly insulted by his words.
"You ought to talk, considering what I overheard between you and Lady MacBeth with the fancy accent. Something about her wanting a threesome, but you preferred — what was it — to 'fly solo' instead?"
Before Bane could reply, the gravity of the situation suddenly dawned on her and she clasped her hand over her mouth.
"Oh my God, I get it now," she murmured, as she returned her gaze to his. "You're disappointed… because I'm not Jenna!"
Her quiet giggles quickly upgraded to husky, hyperventilating laughter, and she was soon rocking back and forth as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"You…you thought," she cried between hiccups, "that I would be… like J-Jenna!"
Bane watched the vulgar scene play out before him, performed by a woman wearing a dress that was not much larger than a bath towel, with bare legs and feet askew.
She was right, of course. He was disappointed. He'd been a fool to expect that she'd be the woman he saw on stage. He should have strangled her by now, but the heady sensation she'd given him at the theatre lingered far too strongly in his blood.
"I'm sorry," she said eventually as her laughter died away and her expression turned serious. "You obviously don't share my amusement. This evening isn't turning out the way you planned, is it?"
"Nor for you, Kitty Nash," Bane replied darkly. "Escape is impossible. There are armed men stationed all over this building, not to mention this penthouse."
"Oh, well, you'll have to tell them to stand down, because I have an eight-o'clock curtain tomorrow night and if I don't show up the understudy takes my place. She's good, and I'll be damned if she's ever going to eclipse me. You won't want to be around me if that happens!" Her blue eyes blazed with ruthless ambition.
Having heard quite enough from her, Bane crossed the room and opened the bedroom door, gesturing for Barsad. "Sedate our guest for the night."
"Sedate? No, not again," she yelped. The first signs of genuine fear were obvious in her voice as she watched Barsad retrieve a syringe from a nearby side-table.
Kitty screamed as Bane pinned her on the bed with his powerful arms.
"No no! Don't do this! Stop!" Kitty begged as she struggled in vain to break free of him.
As Barsad administered another dose, Bane's mask loomed over her.
"I'm afraid you will miss your curtain," he growled dangerously into her ear. "Tomorrow night and every night. In the following days you will come to know why, Kitty Nash."
The chilling sounds emanating from his mask were the last Kitty heard before she fell limp in his arms.
Bane rose, chastising himself for noticing how her long, black eyelashes contrasted with her alabaster skin.
"She's out," Barsad determined. "She'll sleep til morning."
"Tell the others to give her the run of the house when she wakes," Bane instructed him. "Post guards at the private elevator. She is not to leave this penthouse, brother."
The next morning Bane met with Talia in the sewers to finalize operations for the next few days. Talia was dressed for yet another day posing as the popular businesswoman and philanthropist, Miranda Tate.
Wincing, she slipped out of the painful heels that were essential to Miranda's wardrobe, dreading having to wear them for the rest of the day.
"You haven't mentioned anything about your escapade with the actress last night. Have you nothing to report?"
"Initially I believed her to be the exception to the rule in Gotham," Bane replied. "Worth saving. Instead I found her to be entitled, selfish, competitive and overbearing. I have no doubt her underlings in the theatre cower in her wake," Bane replied distastefully.
"Then you two have something in common. You didn't have your way with her?"
"She offered herself in exchange for her freedom. The manner of her proposition was coarse. Had I accepted I fear I would have behaved in a less than gentlemanly manner. I am not that kind of man."
"Of course you're not, my puritanical friend. But as I keep saying, you need to expand your horizons."
"Some other time," Bane replied, repeating the well-worn phrase he used whenever Talia tried to spice up his life. "I must compliment you, my dear, on your impeccable foresight. Most news outlets are covering her abduction ad nauseam, as you suggested they might."
"We'll see if the events over the next few days change the narrative. Our mission is at a crucial point, my friend. Prepare yourself for tonight, when you and I and the cat burglar converge to break Bruce. There will be plenty of time to play with your new toy once the city it ours."
Bane nodded in agreement as his fingers twitched. "Then, I will break her."
At John Daggett's penthouse, Kitty had awakened in the guest suite feeling hung over from the drug that Barsad had twice administered to her.
She knew instantly that she hadn't dreamed she'd been abducted. She had awakened in a bed she didn't recognize, heard the distant sounds of male voices outside her door, speaking in various accents and tongues.
If she was going to face her abductors head on, then she was going to need a hot shower and a clear head. She vaguely remembered the muscular masked man telling her that she would miss her curtain call. In the clear light of day, the prospect was devastating to her.
Inside the shiny glass bathroom, she stripped off her torn dress and walked into the shower, scrubbing her hair and body thoroughly. She then treated her scraped knee and elbow with bandages and antiseptics she found in the medicine cabinet.
Instinctively she went to the walk-in closet, which was stocked with women's clothing, many of the pieces unworn with price tags still attached. She turned her nose up at most of them, because they were either evening wear or unsuitable for daytime. In the very back of the closet she discovered several pairs of jeans and some t-shirts, larger than her own size but better than having nothing to wear.
Once she was dressed she reluctantly left the bedroom and wandered down a long hall. She jumped as she rounded a corner and found curly-haired gunman standing guard.
"I need something to eat," she demanded.
The man gestured past him, barely glancing at her. "See Mr. Barsad," he said in heavily accented English.
Kitty walked past him and soon found herself in a state of the art kitchen, where the chef was none other than the man who had abducted and drugged her.
"Mornin' Kitty! Sleep good?"
She was silent for a moment as she observed the man who had assaulted and abducted her the previous evening, and who was now tossing eggs in a frying pan.
"No, I slept very unnaturally, thanks to you. I take it you're Mr. Barsad?"
"The very one, kiddo. Have a seat and I'll make you some breakfast," he said as he poured her a cup of black coffee and pushed it across the counter to her. "Bet you need this!"
"You have to be pulling my leg! You're the cook?"
"Nope. Just when I feel like it."
"In that case, I'll have five heaping tablespoons of zero fat Greek yogurt, with organic blueberries and raspberries, also a half banana and one tablespoon of natural honey."
Barsad removed his fried eggs from the flame and stared with deep set eyes similar in colour to hers.
"Uh-uh, sister. You'll burn that off in an hour, and we don't run a 24-hour kitchen here. From now on you eat when we eat, and what we eat."
"And what's that?"
For an answer Barsad slid the eggs onto a plate along with a slab of bacon, just as two thick slices of bread popped out of the toaster.
"If I eat that will you tell me who you men are and why you kidnapped me?"
"We'll see," Barsad shrugged.
Mere hours before he was scheduled to take delivery of Bruce Wayne in the sewers, Bane made a last stop at Daggett's penthouse. Barsad had informed him that Kitty had spent the entire day in the guest suite, only emerging for meals. She had just finished her dinner and had disappeared into her room again when Bane arrived.
He found her staring out the spacious windows, her body ramrod straight with tension, and he watched her hastily wipe her eyes when he burst inside without knocking.
"Good evening, Kitty Nash! I trust you enjoyed your day. It is now five minutes until curtain at the Brett Addams theatre."
"And you've come to gloat," she replied in a quiet voice, without turning to address him.
"Behold your understudy as interviewed this afternoon. She who is about to take the stage in your place," he announced cruelly as he switched on the television.
"I'm here with understudy Alia Sharma, who will take the stage this evening in place of Kitty Nash, who was tragically abducted last night after exiting this very theatre. Ms. Sharma, how is everyone holding up, given there's been no news and no leads as to Ms. Nash's whereabouts, and no demands for ransom so far."
"We're all in shock, of course, but we're sending love and prayers to her family and friends."
"Did the producers ever think about cancelling the performance tonight?"
"Well, the entire company held a meeting this morning, and it was quickly decided that this was the best way to go forward in the belief that she'll be found."
"In other words, the show must go on?"
"Yes, and we absolutely believe it's what Kitty would have wanted."
"Turn it off!" Kitty screamed as she threw a pillow at the tv. "Listen to her talk about me like I'm dead! That bitch has been after my job since day one!"
"Hold your tongue or I will hold it for you," Bane threatened.
Her eyes were clearly swollen from crying, and he suspected it wasn't out of fear of her current circumstances, but rather because her star status was threatened.
Barely registering Bane's threat, Kitty paced the room. "Why hasn't the theatre company offered a reward for my return," she demanded somewhat irrationally.
"Why doesn't your family offer a reward?"
"I don't speak to them anymore."
"Perhaps you think too highly of yourself," Bane rasped, twisting the knife. "Why would anyone offer a reward when there is an eager understudy ready to go on in your place. By your own admission she is accomplished."
"Who the hell are you and why are you doing this to me? I live for the stage! I'm nothing without my career," she raged.
"You are a pathetic creature," Bane growled judgmentally. "If you are nothing without your career then you don't deserve to have it!"
His words stunned her, and she wondered what he meant by them.
"And what are you without that creepy mask? Can you breathe without it? Are you ugly like the phantom of the opera," she countered once she had regained her composure.
"You do not fear me because you are attracted to dangerous men," he rumbled as he gripped her neck with his rough fingers, but didn't squeeze.
"That's a lousy thing to say," Kitty gasped. "You don't know a god damn thing about me!"
Bane released her, his entire body vibrating with the sensation of her soft, warm skin and throbbing carotid pulse.
"We will see one another again, Kitty Nash," he said as he turned to leave. "Until then, enjoy your stay."
"No, wait! Don't go," Kitty called.
Bane turned to face her, detecting a note of contrition in her voice.
"We started off on the wrong foot, you and I. You...you say my name like it's a dirty word, and frankly that doesn't feel very good. I'll tell you a secret, shall I? My given name is Katrina, but no one ever calls me that."
Even in an oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans, she still managed to fill with the room with presence and beauty, and Bane had no doubt that she was well aware of it.
"Very well," he rumbled with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "But do not for a moment consider toying with me...Katrina."
And then he was gone.