Bruce shut off the laser and examined the sharp, glowing green tip attached to the metal shaft. It was as perfect as he could make it.
He set the spear down on the metal work table, then glanced at the small, cylindrical objects lying nearby. Using the leftover Kryptonite, he'd made four gas grenades.
Bruce fell into the chair, gazing around the dimly-lit chamber under The Pines, thirty miles south of Gotham. It was one of many small bases he had scattered up and down the East Coast, ready for use in the event Wayne Manor ever became compromised. Or if he needed to do something in secret, so secret he didn't want Alfred or Dick or anyone close to him involved.
Bruce's heavy eyelids drooped. He'd gotten little sleep since he began work on his Kryptonite weapons. But he needed to have them ready to use against Superman.
He slumped in his chair, staring at a glass case on the other side of the chamber. A bulky, armored batsuit stood inside, similar to the one he'd used in the past against Bane. Bruce then turned back to the grenades and the spear. His plan was to use the grenades and the armor to wear down the alien. When he'd sufficiently weakened him, he'd take the spear and move in for the . . .
Bruce clenched his jaw. He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.
You know you have no choice. The very existence of humanity is at stake.
He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.
XXXXX
"Haa . . . Haa . . . Haaaaaaaa."
Bruce's eyes snapped open at the sound of the low, ominous laugh. Heart pounding, he spun around, ready to spring out of his chair. For some reason, he remained seated.
A slender man dressed in purple and white emerged from the shadows. A huge grin spread across his chalk white face. Bright green hair stood out on his head.
Bruce clenched the armrests, some invisible force still pinning him to the chair.
"Well, well, well. You're finally going to do it." The Joker took a step toward him. "That whole thing about not killing. You're going to throw it out the window."
Bruce glowered at the psychotic clown as he went on. "I'm surprised it took you this long. Twenty years of dealing with the most depraved, blood-thirsty scum Gotham has to offer, and you still held on to your noble little code. Even I couldn't push you over that damn line, and look at everything I did to you. Blowing up Robin number two, putting a bullet in Batgirl's spine. Most people would have mounted my head on a wall . . . or on a pike in front of their mansion. But not you."
Joker spun around, throwing his arms into the air. "Then some alien in a blue leotard shows up, drops a building on your buddy, and now you're all, 'An eye for an eye.'"
"It's not like that," Bruce growled.
Joker sighed and strode closer to him. "We've been doing our dance for, what, fifteen years? Fifteen years. I did everything I could to get you to feel that rush of ending someone's life, but no. You held strong. Then here comes Superman, someone who only fought once, and that all goes out the window. Frankly, I'm hurt." The Joker patted his chest.
"Aw well." He threw up his hands. "I'll get over it, especially when I see you plunge that Kryptonite spear into Superman's chest. Then . . ." He leaned closer to Bruce. "Then you and me, we'll be same. We'll both be killers."
"You're wrong!" Bruce shouted. "I'm nothing like you. I'll never be anything like you."
Joker howled with laughter. "You always say killing is easy. So what happens after you off the Man of Steel? Who's next? Me? Penguin? Riddler? Scarecrow? Some random gangbanger? Some poor schmuck who didn't pay his parking ticket." His grin grew wider. "Catwoman?"
"Shut up!" Bruce sprang out of his chair.
Joker laughed and hopped a couple of times. "We can have a contest. We'll each have our own graveyard, and see which of us can fill ours the fastest."
"You're sick." Bruce's face twisted in disgust.
"You just wait. The more bodies you put six feet under, the more you're going to enjoy killing."
"Shut up, damn you!" Bruce lunged at him, hands extended. "Shut up!"
The Joker cackled just before Bruce's hands wrapped around his throat.
XXXXX
Bruce jerked awake. He held the armrests of the chair in a death grip, heart hammering in his ears. He drew one deep breath after another, trying to settle himself.
It was just a dream. Just a dream.
The Joker's words still echoed in his mind. Would he stop at taking one life? Would he come to enjoy it? What if he liked it so much it stopped mattering if the life he took was guilty or innocent?
It's not going to happen. I'm not like him. It was just a stupid dream.
Rubbing his face with both hands, he got up and went to the base's small bathroom. After showering and changing into fresh clothes, he grabbed an MRE from the well-stocked pantry. Bruce put the chicken noodle stew into the flameless heater, ate a peanut butter cracker, and turned on the computer, scanning news sites.
PRESIDENT ORDERS SUPERMAN ARRESTED, the headline on the FOX News website blared.
He set down the cracker in his hand, reading about the alien's battle in Metropolis with an electricity-wielding woman named Livewire . . . a battle that left nearly two dozen injured, including a bus driver whose legs had to be amputated.
So much for keeping his promise to lay low. But what did promises mean to an alien with near god-like powers?
And how the hell would the government arrest Superman?
The article only said federal law enforcement and military forces would be deployed to Metropolis. Bruce hacked into the Department of Defense and Department of Justice computer networks and soon found the order of battle for what the government dubbed Operation: Steel Trap.
One hundred federal agents were on their way to Metropolis, including members of the FBI Hostage Rescue Team, the U.S. Marshals Service Special Operations Group, and the ATF Special Response Team. Two companies of Green Berets would back them up.
And Superman can sweep them aside in under a minute.
Then he looked some of the weaponry the soldiers and agents had at their disposal. Sonic devices, lasers designed to disorient people, and M1 Abrams tanks whose cannons could shoot liquid nitrogen. The Navy also had the cruiser Lake Champlain heading to Metropolis. The ship had been retired from active service, but served as a test bed for advanced weapons like rail guns and particle beams.
Bruce doubted any of it would stop Superman. He had no doubt that a battle between the government and the alien would cause massive destruction to the city . . . again. Thousands would die . . . again.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer. Would this be it? Would a fight with federal forces prompt Superman to overthrow the government? Take over the whole world?
Bruce looked at the Kryptonite spear. He figured the federal agents and military would need 24 to 36 hours to get into position for a full-scale assault on Superman.
He needed to finish the alien before that happened.
TO BE CONTINUED