Chapter 103
Investigating a warehouse recently bought under Marsha's name, I shoot my grappling gun and fly up to the roof. Dressed in my Trickstress costume along with a camera strapped to my shoulder, my shadow is illuminated by the light coming through the skylight. The warehouse looks fairly normal, filled with large shipping crates stacked on top of each other.
Opening up the skylight, I drop down, hiding behind the first pile of shipping crates I see. Wispy talking can be heard echoing along the cold warehouse walls. I can't quite tell where the sound's coming from, but someone is definitely here.
Checking each corridor before I pass through, I explore the warehouse. Just as I head down the third hallway, there's a loud slamming of the door, and the whispering stops. They must have left, good, now I have this place to myself.
After turning the corner, I discover what must be Marsha's base of operations. It's several tables lined up in a square formation. Each table is covered in papers, trash, and various leather suitcases. A wooden baseball bat leans against one of the table. I should probably check the suitcases first. They could contain stolen property.
I take the camera and take some time to take pictures of the warehouse, including Marsha's little hideout. Letting the camera fall back on its strap, I begin open the suitcases. Picking the lock, I open the first one to reveal gold and silver pocket watches, along with loose rhinestones and a pearl necklace. These must have been from the jewel exhibit last night.
I finish snapping a picture of the suitcase's contents when there's a loud, single bang on the concrete floor of the warehouse.
"Well, it seems we have an uninvited guest," Marsha announces, the Bookworm and the Archer at her side. The slamming noise came from the black wooden cane she's carrying, which matches her long black dress.
She points at me with her cane, "Get her boys!"
The Bookworm and the Archer charge after me, and I bolt the other way. Once it's behind me, I push one of the tables over before continuing to retreat. Marsha's henchmen leap over the table, bounding ahead.
I try to find my way back to the skylight where I dropped down from, but the passages made out by the storage crates all look the same.
The Archer uses his large figure to gain on me. He tackles me to the ground, and I take out one of my knives and stab him in the arm. He groans, pulling back, and leaving me just enough room to kick him in the stomach and scramble out.
Continuing to run down the hallway, I turn a sharp corner, and am greeted by a wooden baseball bat that slams me right in the face. I fall to the ground, and as I begin to pass out, standing over me are the Archer, and the Bookworm holding the baseball bat in his gloved hands.
I awake with my hands and legs spread out and tied up. This better not become a habit with me…
I glance around, and this time I'm tied up to a wooden wheel with a red and blue circle outline painted on, similar to a dartboard. My mask and costume are still on, I guess they're not all that concerned with my secret identity, they probably think I'm just some kid from off the street. On the other hand, my weapons and gadgets, as well as my camera, are off of my person, sitting on the far-off table in Marsha's hideout. As I shift around, the wheel slowly spins with my movements. This thing spins? Are they going to try to make me sick? Use me for target practice?
My vision suddenly becomes dark, and fuzzy. Oh no...something's wrong? Is it a concussion? That seems to be the most likely option.
The Bookworm and the Archer step out from behind a pile of crates. The Archer wields a bow in his hand, along with a sheath of arrows strapped to his back.
"We've heard about you, Trickstress," the Bookworm informs me, "a Robin Hood in the night, along with your partner in crime the Batwoman."
I begin to nod, "Yeah, that's me."
The Bookworm flexes his latex gloves, the rubbery material stretching along with his fingers, "Well, we don't take too kindly to people who think they can play cop. Even ladies like yourself."
He holds up my camera, examining it, "Thought you could play detective, huh?"
Dropping the camera on the ground, he smashes it with his brother loafer, "Pictures...so easy to produce nowadays. And yet they say these silly pictures will be the death of print, but no! Nothing can trump the superiority of the written word!"
The Bookworm gestures to the Archer, "My friend here will be demonstrating his namesake. This is the Archer, one of the greatest interrogators of our-...and your time."
The Archer gets out an arrow and connects it to his bow. After only a moment of hesitation, he lets the arrow fly, and it slams into the wheel, about a quarter inch away from my stomach.
"Very impressive, wouldn't you say?" the Bookworm asks.
I chuckle, "Yeah, neat gimmick. You call me a Robin Hood, but look at him. All he needs is the tights."
The Archer immediately whips out another arrow and fires it, landing just under my chin and slicing off a section of my hair.
"We're respectable men of business. We will not take insolence from a child," the Bookworm snaps.
I roll my eyes, "Look, I've read your police files. You guys have codes, standards. You don't kill, you don't do business on Sundays, on and on...why do you think Marsha fell out of power? Because there were people like Don Falcone and Don Maroni who were bigger and scarier. Who weren't afraid of breaking the rules. Face it, you're not businessmen, you're criminals, and criminals don't have standards."
The Bookworm nods to the Archer, and he loads another arrow. This arrow hits me, slicing the side of my ear.
"You think we won't kill? Oh no...I'm afraid you're mistaken. The only reason our records are clean on the files is that...well...we were always much better at hiding the bodies," the Bookworm clarifies, nodding his head.
He strolls over to the wheel, and places his hand on the wheel, "Let's mix things up, shall we?"
He pushes the wheel, causing it to spin, with me along for the ride. Trying to keep track of the Bookworm and the Archer as my perspective constantly changes, I grow increasingly worried as the Archer takes out another arrow. He takes his time pulling back this one, as if to taunt me.
The arrow flies, and lands right under my arm, snagging on my sleeve. Hang on...that arrow came pretty close to the rope securing me to the wheel. If I could use my weight to shift the wheel as just the right moment, I could trick him into cutting my binds free and escape!
The next arrow zooms in, landing just above my head. Things keep cutting closer and closer, hopefully this means that the Archer's cocky enough to aim close to the rope.
"Ha...my boyfriend is literally scarier than you," I taunt the Archer, egging him on.
Hmph, I think that's the first time I've ever referred aloud to Oswald as my boyfriend. Rather strange situation to do so, hopefully that information never gets back to him. I wouldn't want him to have the satisfaction.
The Archer loads in another arrow, faster than the last two times. Ha, alright, I've got him mad.
He fires an arrow at my hand, and with my back, I twist the wheel so that it moves just enough for the arrow to miss my hand and cut into my ropes instead.
"No! You imbecile!" the Bookworm shouts.
With one arm free, I rip off the ropes from the other arm. Now with two arms free, I fall to the ground, my weight yanking off the binds on my feet. I scramble up just in time to see the Bookworm and the Archer charging toward me.
The ropes still tied to my feet, I leap out of the way, the ropes dragging along with me. They fly up in the air slightly, just enough that the Bookworm and the Archer both trip over them.
I start removing the ropes from my leg, but just as I'm getting the last one off, the Bookworm yanks the rope, and I fall back onto the ground.
The Archer stands over me, and punches down. I roll over to dodge, and I kick my leg upwards, hitting him square in the jaw.
From behind, the Bookworm grabs me, "You're a lot of trouble, girl!"
I step on his foot, and he cries out, releasing his grip. Racing to the tables, I grab my equipment before bolting in the opposite direction.
Getting up, the Bookworm and the Archer chase after me. I grab one of the suitcases lying on the table and hurl it at the Archer. It hits him sideways in the face and he falls to the floor. Snatching another case, I throw it toward the Bookworm, but he catches it and launches it back. It hits me in the stomach, and I stumble back. Just as he approaches me, I throw one of my marbles, which shocks him until he falls to the ground.
I breath a sigh of relief, but suddenly my vision becomes blurry again. Patches of darkness start appearing around the corners of my sight, and it quickly gives me a headache. It must be a concussion, I've been taking a lot of hits to the head lately.
I stumble over to the wheel, where my smashed camera lies in a broken heap. Dammit, I'd just bought that. Getting down on my knees, I fumble through the wreckage, and smile when I find the roll of film slightly damaged, but still intact. My evidence is saved!
I find my way back to the skylight, and launch my grappling hook until it carries me back up to the warehouse roof. When I get to the top, I climb up, but when I stand on my feet, I instantly become dizzy and almost fall back in. I catch myself on the roof thatching...I need to go home and lie down.
Author's Note:
ajm88: Thanks :)
Yeah, keeping up with the Gotham storyline has been quite a task (and who knows what new challenges Season 2 will bring) but it's been very satisfying to make it to where I am right now
Langley21: Yeah, I was thinking I should do a proper tribute to the episode (we do have Veronica already as a minor character). Competing with characters in the DCU is tough, but at the same time I don't want a Mary Sue on my hands, so it's been a balancing act trying to make sure she can keep up while remaining human. It's interesting what you say about her empathy, in that it's a vulnerability. I would personally think that it's both a strength and a weakness, depending on the context. And no need to apologize, I love long reviews, and as a writer it's satisfying when readers bring up such intelligent points. It shows you're paying attention ;)
Thanks! :)