A/N: Batman and Wonder Woman meeting, and more rogues.
1.57AM, Gotham City
"Hello? Anybody there? Hello? Hello?"
"Start talking." said a gruff voice from the darkness. It didn't sound friendly.
"Who..who's there?"
"Who do you think?"
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"
"Scream all you want. No one will come and save you. Only I can save you."
He tried to move. It was pointless. His bonds were too tight. He was trussed up like a pig, his ankles and wrists bound together with plastic safety locks. Those things always looked flimsy until you tried to break them. As if it wasn't enough his hands and feet were lashed to each other with electrical wires and he was suspended upside down on some sort of hook. His ...everything was killing him.
They had been sitting playing cards and shooting the shit, waiting for the next shift to move in and relieve them from guard duty. What they had been guarding was roughly $12 million worth of uncut heroin. Out of nowhere the lights went out. His eyes hadn't even adjusted to the change when something big and black came crashing through the glass. They all knew the score. In this city, if the sun had set, it could only be one thing. He had picked up his M4 and emptied the clip, as did everyone else, to no avail. It was true what they said. Bullets didn't work on the Batman. You may as well try shooting a shadow.
Men started dropping fast once they stopped to reload. The room suddenly filled with smoke and he couldn't see a thing, but he certainly heard it. Some went out loudly, with loud cries that were silenced by sickening crunches and snaps. Through it all was the occasional burst of fire from automatic weapons. Many more went out without a sound.
That was even scarier. Over a dozen armed men were floored in a matter of seconds. He felt sure he would shit when the black mass finally loomed up over him. He was taken out just like the rest. Quick and painful.
When he came to, he found himself in his present position. His ribs ached, and he could feel bruises forming all over his torso. It was like he had been hit in every possible place that would hurt. His head throbbed. He could feel a lump forming on the back of his head. His inverted position certainly didn't help. The lump throbbed with every beat of his heart.
He couldn't see. His face had been covered by some sort of bag. He didn't know what to expect next, and that was perhaps the most terrifying thing of all. For the second time, he felt sure he would shit.
He decided to change tack.
"Look man, you don't know whose stash you're fucking with. These are some very big fish. Fucking sperm whales. Just let me go, and we'll forget this ever happened, ok?"
Silence.
Then the sound of a metal chair being dragged across the wooden floorboards, real slow. It stopped somewhere before his face. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping the blow wouldn't hurt too much. He had never taken a steel chair to the face before.
But the blow never came.
Instead the metal creaked as someone sat down in the chair. For a long time there was no sound.
When Batman spoke again it came as a shock, like ice cold water splashed in his face.
"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me everything you know,and I will consider not throwing you out of this building."
"You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't kill me."
"You'll survive the fall. But you'll be eating through a tube in your throat and shitting in a pair of adult diapers for the rest of your miserable existence as a vegetable. And every day the nurse comes to change your nappy and powder your bottom, you'll remember that all of it could have been avoided if you had just answered some simple questions."
"Bullshit. You're bluffing." No sooner had he said the words than the metal chair clattered to the ground and Batman rose. He was suddenly picked up and carried across the room. Next thing he knew he was tossed through a window. He screamed for a second before he hit the hard metal balcony, landing on the broken shards of glass. His hands were cut and bleeding. He could feel the cold wind blowing all around him. It was much stronger. He could hear a chopper far off in the distance, and the occasional car driving down the street.
Impossible. Their building wasn't this high up. And it had no balconies outside the windows.
He realized with horror that this was a totally different place.
"Ok! I'll talk!"
"Too late. You had your chance. Enjoy the rest of your semi-comatose life."
This guy isn't fucking around, he thought as he was picked up again and bundled over the balcony with all the care one would give a sack of potatoes.
The back of his head slammed against the metal railing.
"Ow! Shit! Right on the fucking lump...Wait! Wait! I'll tell you everything man! Wait, please!"
He shrieked wildly as his body plummeted from the top floor of the building, the black bag flapping about his face noisily as he picked up speed. After a few more harrowing seconds he jerked to a painful halt, the cords biting deep into his flesh, so deep he felt sure his limbs would be torn off. He groaned in agony. His pants felt very warm. He knew right then he had shit himself. After a few seconds the bag was ripped off his face and a blurry black shape came into view. He was inches above the ground. He realized he was crying. He blinked away the tears.
Batman didn't even have to ask, he started speaking right away.
"His name is Black Mask, leads this group that calls themselves the False Facers! It's supposed to be this Illuminati type of group! Runs everything from prostitution to illegal gambling and drugs! False Facers are super-loyal, and he's their boss! He has access to some top level narcotics and weapons! They say no one's ever seen his face! He wears a wooden mask! That's all I know man, I swear to God!" He sobbed loudly.
Well. That wasn't what I was looking for at all. But I'll take it. I've never heard of this group. That in itself is a cause for alarm.
In fact Batman had been following up on this gang because they had ties to several other smuggling operations within the city, and they were the main independent security outfit for the 2 Crime Families in Gotham whenever they had dealings with outsiders.
He had actually wanted to know who had supplied security for Cobblepot's latest haul of foreign prostitutes, or 'exotic dancers' as everyone in Gotham was calling them. He had heard shocking rumors even in his civilian identity of horrific abuse at the hands of the nightclub bouncers.
Brutal beatings, starvation and other vile things that he hoped for their sakes were just rumors. Whoever supplied security likely knew the middleman, and the middleman knew the supplier.
But he wasn't about to tell him that. If this Black Mask and his False Facers were what the henchman claimed, then maybe they were behind all of that.
He walked away from the hanging man without another word. His mind was already rapidly piecing together this information with what he witnessed at the docks a few months back. Almost everything fit. But he didn't have a motive.
"Hey!" The man called after him. "Hey man, I told you everything! How about you let me down!?"
Batman ignored him, climbing onto his bike.
"Hey! I'm talking to y-"
The rope snapped and he fell face first, then gravity pushed him over and he landed painfully on his side. He heard a powerful roar and he rolled onto his belly just in time to see Batman tearing away on a sleek black motorcycle, his cape billowing behind him. His mouth tasted salty. He spat out a chipped tooth.
"Goddamn fucking Batman! I hope the Feds get you!" He yelled hoarsely as he struggled against his bonds.
"You know I think they're starting to suspect me. Or should I say they're starting to suspect me more."
The silence was punctuated by the flick of his lighter. He struggled to shield the flame from the wind. Finally he succeeded in lighting the end of the cigarette and he inhaled.
"I hope you're there and I'm not just talking to myself again. But I'm pretty sure your there. I'm getting that funny feeling I always get when you're around." He blew out the smoke.
Finally Batman answered.
"You really should stop smoking."
"Careful. You almost sound concerned." Gordon said sarcastically.
"You're no use to me if you're sick in hospital with lung cancer."
"I think that's at least 20 years away."
"So what do you want me to do about it?" Batman asked, referring to the first statement.
"Nothing you can do. Even you have to draw the line somewhere right? I'm just letting you know. Just in case you see me on the front page of the papers looking like I got shot with a full clip from a Browning, you'll know it was the PD that fingered me... Do you even read newspapers? Are you inclined to doing normal things like that?"
There was no reply.
"Right, I forgot, no personal questions. Anyway, I got something I think will be right up your alley." He opened the file in his hands. It was filled with bloody photographs.
"About a month ago, bodies started turning up all over the place. Well, not all over the place. Low income areas. The Narrows mostly. Eerie stuff if I do say so myself, and I've seen some scary things in my time. GCPD sat on it for as long as they could, but you know how word gets around. At first it was just one homeless guy.. We thought it was an isolated case. Then it changed strictly to white females aged between 18 and 55. Then we thought we had a serial killer on our hands." He placed the file on the edge of the roof and placed his heavy metal lighter on it to act as a paperweight.
Batman emerged from a totally different dark recess than Gordon had anticipated.
He would never get used to that. Part of him suspected the vigilante got some weird enjoyment from surprising him every time.
Batman picked up the file.
The photos were extremely disturbing. The women all had their throats slit,blood ran down the front of their bodies, soaking their clothes. The bodies were set in everyday life poses. Reading the paper. Sitting on a bench. Standing upright at a windowsill. His cowl lenses glowed red as they scanned over the images and case reports, transferring them directly to the computer at the Cave where he would look at them in more detail. For now he noted the most obvious thing, the killer was trying to send a message. The most eccentric serial killers always did.
Gordon continued with his narrative.
"But then his MO changed. Two weeks in after these murders, he went after men and women alike, all ages, all races, all shapes, all sizes. The only unifying factor is that they were all extremely poor or homeless. Other than that, zero discrimination. That's not typical serial killer style. Yesterday... Yesterday they found a kid. Barely 10 years old. His mother was the one that found him. She got worried when he didn't come home from school as usual. She was so...it was like she..." Gordon trailed off. His hand trembled imperceptibly as he raised the cigarette to his lips.
Batman's nostrils flared as he looked at the image of the dead child, but he gave no outward sign of the incredible river of rage that had burst its banks within him. With a level of control that bordered on the unnatural, he clamped a lid on the emotion, sealing it off completely.
He would need a ton of meditation and physical exertion in the morning to purge it all out. It was a good thing this meeting happened after he had interrogated that criminal.
Otherwise he might have really hurt him.
Gordon hadn't noticed a thing.
Indeed, it wasn't typical serial killer style.
Everyone had gone out the same way, throats slit, posed in life-like positions.
"I would have brought this to you sooner, but they've got me working burglary and petty crimes. I don't exactly have many friends in the PD, but I managed to get these files. Honestly I don't know how they sat on this story for as long as they did. I know you've got your way of doing this, but for what it's worth I'd like to share some of my thoughts. It's not much, but every little helps."
Batman shut the file and his lenses resumed their usual pale white appearance.
"I was going to suggest that." Batman said.
Gordon tried not to look surprised. He cleared his throat.
"Obviously there are no missing persons reports. No one gives a damn about homeless people and slum dwellers. Even then I've learned that most people in this city would sooner run into a thug than a cop, so people might know something and be sitting tight with info. We both know the GCPD isn't the most...co-operative with other forces, but I expect State Police will get on this case once the word gets out-if it hasn't already-and if its gone further than that I wouldn't be surprised if the FBI started sniffing around. So far that's all I've got."
"I'll look into it."
Gordon nodded and picked up the file.
"One more thing Batman. As I said, if this is big the Feds might come looking, so a word to the wise, keep your eyes peeled. I'm sure you know how to deal with these things much better than I do, but I'd keep a low profile if I were you. I can barely cover you from the GCPD, I don't think I have the skill to hoodwink federal agents."
"I think I've got that bit covered." Batman said.
Gordon turned to find he was alone. He could have sworn it sounded like Batman was...joking. There was the faintest hint of humor in his voice.
No.
Impossible.
All these months since they started 'officially' working together he had never spoken more than 50 words.
Gordon counted.
He wouldn't start cracking jokes tonight, or any time soon.
That would indicate he viewed Gordon as more than a mole inside a corrupt organisation.
He pulled out another cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket and began patting himself for his lighter.
It was gone.
"Son of a-"
From her position on the rooftop, Diana had seen everything.
Batman wasn't that hard to find.
It was just a small matter of flying over every inch of Gotham for a couple of hours until she stumbled across something. Except she came across a lot of somethings within that time, none of them good. It had taken an enormous amount of self-restraint not to interfere with everything she came across, because she didn't want to attract any undue attention.
Eventually though, she came across 'something' strange enough to warrant further investigation, or at the very least closer observation. It was rather like tracking an animal. A highly intelligent, well equipped, stealthy animal.
She finally spotted a black figure gliding low over a building, circling it twice then arcing downwards and smashing through a glass window. She had almost missed it.
A normal human's eyes would certainly have missed it.
She had watched him from the moment he burst into the building, seeing the flash of light from the muzzles as the room was filled with automatic gunfire, to the swift, noiseless exit and the later interrogation of the criminal, then finally the meeting with Gordon.
Batman was a formidable warrior, that much was evident.
He showed great discipline, skill, resourcefulness and intelligence.
But he was also a little brutal in his execution.
Even from her position far off she had heard the wet meaty sounds of fist hitting face, the occasional snap as a bone broke, screams of pain and fear.
She had been a little concerned when she heard the man screaming for help.
But then again, she mused, he didn't seem to gain any pleasure from his brutal methods. If anything he seemed to rein himself in quite a lot. She saw a lot of holding back in his technique, a lot of moves that could easily have been lethal that were instead diverted into simple yet effective and extremely painful knockout blows.
That was good.
She didn't want any sadists in the League.
And having spent just a few hours in Gotham she could understand why he was so rough.
It seemed like an inherently evil place. The sharp arches, stone gargoyles, the sky that was neither black nor grey nor any color really, just a haze of something that seemed to almost repel light, distort sound and color. It was quite possibly the ugliest, darkest city she had ever seen.
He was a product of his environment. He was an avatar of Gotham.
As he swung from the rooftops with his cable, she decided this would be a good time to intercept him. The city seemed to be winding down at long last, and she sensed that perhaps he was leaving. There was a strange finality to his movements, like the closing of a long observed ritual.
It is now or never, she thought as she accelerated and flew behind him, just out of his line of sight. She didn't want to startle him or have him falling out of the sky, although she somehow doubted any of that would happen.
Before she could speak he said,
"No."
She accelerated forwards auntil she was flying beside him.
"How-"
"A red, white and blue bathing suit with shiny metal bits tends to stick out in a bleak environment like this. I've been seeing star spangled shorts for hours. Eventually I decided you weren't a threat, so I continued with my business."
Fair enough. Wait, did he say bathing suit?
"This is not a bathing suit! It is the Champion's Armor!"
"Uh-huh." He said as he continued swinging, shooting the line off and reeling it back in when he completed an arc.
She decided to ignore that.
"At least hear me out."
"I'm listening, aren't I?"
"This is no way to talk."
"My turf. My rules."
"You know I could have you arrested. I could capture you myself and take you to the proper authorities. I could even knock you out of the sky if I wanted, and no one would blame me."
"You could." he replied with an almost bored tone. Unexpectedly, he landed on a ledge.
"Look Princess", he said the word like it was an insult "I have a lot of work to do. It's nearing 2.45, that's the darkest time of night and the best time for my activities. Make your proposition quickly so I can reject it as fully as possible and we can both go our separate ways."
Arrogant!- No, he is trying to bait me. Cooler heads must prevail.
"Why won't you join the League?"
"Don't like working on teams. Especially teams that are backed by the same people who are out to get me because I make them look bad."
"Fair enough. But you did steal something of theirs."
"I borrowed it. They should thank me."
"Somehow you don't strike me as someone who does this for the gratitude."
"Don't act like you understand me, because you don't."
"You are right, I do not understand you. Please help me to. You are not a villain, yet you refuse to work with heroes. Why?"
"Don't like camera's." He said dryly.
"Please extend me the courtesy of speaking to me like an adult. I did not come all the way out here for your witty banter and sarcastic remarks."
"Fine. In case you don't read the papers or watch the news, I'm not a hero. I'm what this city deserves. I have no interest in joining some glorified, State-run, boy-band version of a super-team to stroke my ego and assure everyone that despite all the horrible rumors, I really am a nice guy."
"It would seem to me that your ego is the selfsame reason you refuse to join the League."
"Again, don't talk like you understand me, or my motivations."
"I do not, and I really do not care for them any more than you care for mine or anyone elses, since you seem to think you understand us all so well. All I care for is your ability. It saved our skins once, perhaps in the future it could help us again. It would be nice to have access to that on a regular basis, rather than waiting until another crisis arises."
"The answer is still no. Gotham is and always will be my first priority. I can serve no one elses interests."
"You know the next time-and we both know there will be a next time-the results could be much worse than a destroyed city centre and a few dilapidated buildings. The price could be higher than just tax dollars. It could be blood. The blood of innocents. Though you cloak yourself in the garb of a monster and prowl around at night like a creature of the night, like something out of a nightmare, I sense that even you would not stand aside to let such a thing happen."
He seemed to be considering it.
Now for the Coup de Grace.
"You do not have to join as a full time member. You can work with us only when it is absolutely necessary."
That might actually work,he thought to himself. But what does 'absolutely necessary' mean to her? To Them?
"I'll think about it."
Inwardly she sighed with relief. That was easier than expected.
"When can I expect an answer?"
"Don't." He said as he fired off his line. "Now go home."
"And stay out of Gotham." He called over his shoulder as he pulled away.
The nerve! Impudent little-
Diana could have screamed out loud in frustration. But she calmed herself with a few deep breaths and flew away. The conversation had gotten much further than she had expected.
As starts go, it wasn't great, but it wasn't too shabby either.
A/N: Read and Review