I neither owned nor created Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Leslie Thomkins, Floyd Lawton, Fredrick, or Amanda Waller.
This story is for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained.
Bruce Wayne stared at the woman behind the collapsible desk. She had a mug of something she'd sipped from occasionally. Now she just stared at him pursing her lips.
Alfred, their driver, and Bruce's old friend talked outside about their twist of fate. Soldiers surrounded the area. Only a few had broken from guard duty long enough to erect this tent seemingly just for this private meeting between their commanding officer and him. Why she wanted to speak to him alone and had rescued them by killing their almost-kidnappers with bombs from the air, he could only guess for now. Who she and her soldiers were, he could also only guess for now.
Her voice was American, though he had a hard time further pinpointing any certain geographical area of their shared home-country. He'd heard several accents from the continent of Africa and beyond from her soldiers' mouths, though as they spoke only English to her, each other, and him, Alfred, their old friend, and driver. For being their obvious commander the woman hardly spoke to the soldiers in any language. Bruce assumed they knew what this woman wanted from them. He, however, did not know what she wanted from him.
He kept a carefully neutral expression but focused his gaze on her face as she spoke. "You have to return to America. Take your employees with you if you want but leave peace-keeping to the professionals."
He furrowed his eyebrows slightly at her demand, then raised one. "Why?"
"Because it's our job, not yours. And I do not want you making our job harder."
"May I ask whom I'd be leaving this task to?"
She smirked and remained silent. Bruce kept his face as expressionless as he could during the pause. Then he shrugged. "Very well, I'm curious about who you are. I'm 'concerned' about your plan."
"We'll do what I assumed you planned to, but better."
"You'll rescue the children kidnapped from Wayne Foundation School and any others, and incapacitate their kidnappers, so they can't kill or kidnap again?"
The woman hesitated just a second longer than she had before answering any of his other questions. Her voice sounded even harder when she replied. "We'll make sure the children never become terrorists themselves, and their kidnappers never terrorize again."
Bruce's eyes narrowed further. His jaw clamped shut before he spoke again. "How?"
The woman hesitated, allowing four seconds of silence to pass before glancing out the open flap of the tent. She nodded toward the group outside. "Those men in uniform out there were once much like the children kidnapped by the group we're dealing with now."
Bruce glanced over his shoulder. Then he turned slowly back to meet her gaze. "So, you turned them into soldiers?"
"Don't feel sorry for them. They get to travel, have access to all they need to stay in excellent physical condition, and medical insurance some would kill for."
"They do kill for it."
"In war. That's what's happening in this nation now. War. You want this area to go back to being what your parents helped make it? Let us do our job."
"Why don't you listen to my plan first?"
"I don't have to listen to your plan, Bruce. You're a spoiled child of millionaires playing at soldier because you 'believe' in something. Leave things to someone whose done this before."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What if I give you names of those who can vouch for my abilities?"
Waller raised an eyebrow back, and Bruce knew he'd advanced his first pawn two squares. Even if he'd only made her curious it was a start. Hopefully, whatever his teachers said would make her still more so.
. . .
Fredrick loved Juniper. He chuckled throughout breakfast at Evelyn's solution for his approaching absence from Leslie's home. The Brit tossed his replacement bits of bacon while munching on his own strips. One bite for him, one for Juniper, one for him, one for Juniper. Juniper continuously stared at the man's hand and thumped his tail on the linoleum. He'd decided he "really" liked this human.
Madge had tossed a strip of pork to the dog from a corner of the room after Leslie explained the process to her. Then she'd sat at the between the two sisters her back to the wall and the whole table lying between her and the gigantic hound. A voice at her elbow momentarily distracted her from staring warily at the beast.
"My sister told me you draw well."
Madge blinked and looked away from Juniper. Then she blinked again at the woman who'd delivered the beast. Her eyes scrunched up in annoyance. "What?"
Evelyn's lips grinned as she raised her teacup to them. "I saw your sketch of Leslie with a halo. I must buy it from you … 'But' I'd pay you even 'more' for one of her with devil's horns."
Madge blinked again. Fredrick snorted and grinned even wider while tossing another bacon-bit to Juniper. Leslie merely rolled her eyes and sipped her tea again.
Madge finally came out of her trance. Her brows furrowed to become a "V" of fury. "I've drawn plenty of devil's horns on sketches of people who deserved it, but I'm not drawing any on Leslie! SO, you can just forget the idea, Miss Fancy-pants!
Fredrick turned away from Juniper and raised his eyebrows as his fellow house guest. Leslie lowered her teacup and raised her eyebrows too. Even Evelyn did the same while keeping her grin intact. "Oh my … an artist's temperament. You should go far in certain circles with that if you get a big enough break, and be memorable in the history books too."
Madge turned away again. She continued sipping her tea with the "V" scowl still in place. Fredrick flashed his teeth in a grin and turned back to feeding the dog. Leslie turned her own narrowed eyes upon him. "Stop that. At this rate, you'll give him a heart-attack before he can scare anyone out of my home. "
Fredrick sighed. He turned around, folded his hands on the table before him, and stared at Madge with drooping eyes. "She 'can' be a bit of a sharp-tongued kill-joy even if she doesn't deserve to be drawn with devil's horns."
Evelyn snorted. Madge blinked again. Juniper laid his head down upon his paws with a sigh.
. . .
Night had fallen. It had taken the rest of the day for the mystery woman to call and confirm through various contacts of contacts of contacts his teachers did vouch for his abilities … and were known for their good judge of character and other things in her industry.
After they'd done so, she'd sat back down behind the desk and said she'd listen to him for thirty minutes. SO, he'd laid out his plan. She'd met privately with Alfred to confirm he'd told her and him the same plan.
As he sat down before her desk again, Bruce saw her head was bowed and eyes half-closed. Her fingers did a little dance on the surface of her collapsible desk. From studying the repetitive motion Bruce concluded she'd had piano lessons once. He guessed where on the non-existent keyboard her hand played and imagined the little tune while he waited.
Her voice called his attention away from the imagined keyboard, but the tune continued to play in the back of his mind. "You could die at several points of your 'plan'."
"I know, but it's my life risked in it not that of any of your soldiers. I already gave you its timeline and the cut-off point to assume I failed and then go through with your own plan."
"You're well-known. If word gets out you died here at all, they'll be media attention. And I don't need world-wide scrutiny."
He spoke in a low, soft tone he gambled she was too agitated to consciously notice but hoped would soothe her subconsciously. "I haven't been seen in Gotham for years …"
Her fingers stopped playing the non-existent keyboard. She raised her gaze and glared at him. Then she stood slowly from behind her collapsible desk and towered over him. (He still sat in the collapsible chair. Otherwise, he would have risen above her, but not by much.)
Her own voice came out quite, and cold. "Then I can kill you or sit your millionaire butt in a jail cell off the grid, but I don't have to let you go through with this insane plan on my watch."
He kept his voice in a low octave but dropped the sweetness. Now his tone hardened like her own. "If you thought it too insane, you'd have already done either or escorted us back to our plane."
She stared at him. Her head cocked slightly to the side. Her eyes narrowed in what he hoped was speculation, maybe curiosity.
He spoke again, and the soft tone returned to his voice "I'm not looking for media attention either, just the end of this war, just the safe return of the students of my mother's school. She ran it from afar. Now one of her students runs it. I want it, and its students, to be safe and successful. I don't need them to know I helped bring that about that this way, though."
Amanda Waller's mouth twisted. She cocked her head again, in the opposite direction this time, and also lowered her chin. Her voice lowered too, in fact it bore a depth and resonance that nearly made Bruce raise his eyebrows. "I'll need a cover story your friends can repeat convincingly the rest of their lives. If they can't do that, they won't be released when you're killed. And don't think you'll get a hero's burial."
Bruce took a sharp breath in. Then he slowly released it through his mouth before nodding. "I'll speak with them, and I doubt that will bother me then."
Waller nodded, rose, and held her right hand out to him. He stared at it. Then he reached out and shook it.
. . .
Bruce closed his eyes. He took another breath years later in the non-eye-catching sedan. Lawson was still locked in its trunk. He's made it to another air base. He'd be following through on another deal with Amanda Waller. He clenched his jaw. This time, though, he would not shake hands with her.
Here we go, another update. Reviews are much appreciated and often replied to.
God Bless
ScribeofHeroes