Chapter 5
Reality was fuzzy. Everything was blurred with soft-focus edges, like a photo filter or impressionist painting. Large gruff hands smelling of motor oil bruised the flesh on her upper arms as they pulled her off the floor and forced her kneel. An explosion, they'd been knocked back. They. Batman. Gotham. The ruby. Her thoughts cleared. Had she lost consciousness? For how long?
Five figures repelled through the broken skylight as the sound of police sirens howling through the streets grew closer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Batman had been captured, too. Two nervous men gripped him tightly, their eyes darting between Batman and a woman clad in a red one-shouldered bodysuit. She repelled gracefully down from the broken skylight, her hair flowing behind her like black lava. Steely sapphire eyes and a shock of white hair sprouting from her hairline gave her a cold, unflappable air. A red cat's paw tattoo adorned her upper arm.
"Red Claw," Batman growled.
"Red Claw?" Catwoman asked, doubtful. "Red Claw's not..." She trailed off as the realization hit her. Red Claw was a Kasnian terrorist leader hellbent on restoring the crumbling country to its pre-war glory. Of all the stories about the organization's elusive leader, it had always been assumed Red Claw was a man. Apparently not.
"Well played," Catwoman said with a small amount of begrudging respect. There's no better con than making law enforcement scour the world for someone who doesn't exist.
Red Claw ignored her.
A masked henchman handed Red Claw the ruby. Smiling wickedly, she examined it slowly, turning it carefully in her hands. Eyes narrowing, her smile fell.
"Where is it?" she demanded, kneeing Batman in the gut. "Or do you have it?" She whirled to face Catwoman.
"And here I thought we could be friends," Catwoman quipped. Red Claw punched her in the stomach. "Its fake. Someone beat both of us to the ruby." She was hurt, but not too hurt to taunt the terrorist.
"Fool! You know nothing!" Red Claw snarled as she backhanded her across the face. She tasted police sirens were close now.
"Kill them." Red Claw dropped the ruby and climbed back up the rope dangling from the skylight.
The henchmen moved toward them. Seeing his opportunity, Batman freed himself and took out the two men holding him. Taking advantage of the distraction, Catwoman slipped her captor's grip and took him out with a well-placed leg sweep. Free and outnumbered, Batman and Catwoman glanced at each other. Without speaking but completely in agreement, they began to move. He went high when she went low, he went left when she went right. The men took punches and kicks, caught unprepared by their synchronicity. It surprised them, too - the sheer ease of their teamwork, the awareness of the other, the grace with which they fought together.
In no time the men lay scattered around the floor like discarded dolls. They stared at each other for a moment before he spun on his heel.
"I'm going after Red Claw."
"Good idea."
"No," he said, pulling his grappling gun from his belt.
"No?"
"Stay here."
"Do I look like a Robin to you?" she scoffed. He ignored her and shot his grapple through the busted skylight. She unwound her whip from her waist and followed.
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He chased Red Claw's helicopter as it gained speed and height. Catwoman was close at his heels. He hated how aware he was of her every move - it was a distraction, and distractions could get him killed. There wasn't time to lose her. Focus. He clenched his jaw and fired his grapple at the bottom of the helicopter. As it made contact, he felt something tighten around his ankle. It was her whip. She innocently batted her eyes at him as the city fell away below them.
"And you thought I couldn't keep up," she teased.
"I can't work if you dislocate my ankle," he growled. In five simple movements she scaled him like a jungle gym and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. Having her wrapped around him was going to slow down his reaction time. So was the scent of her perfume.
Focus, the Bat in his head hissed again. No time for human distractions. He is The Bat, The Night, it simply wouldn't do. He focused on the tangible - the temperature had dropped 7 degrees since he'd left the Batmobile. The red-tinged sky told him snow was imminent. Pressing a button, he began to reel in the grapple's cord and pull them towards the helicopter. They were almost at the fuselage when Red Claw's men began to shoot.
They swung wildly, using their momentum and the wind's effect on the bullets to avoid getting hit. It was no use. Catwoman grunted in his ear as a bullet tore into her upper arm. He hissed as he felt lead bury into his thigh.
"There's too many of them!" she cried as one of the henchmen took aim. They were dangling high above heavily forested ground, the city fading as the pilot picked up speed and headed out to sea. Were they close to the Manor? The twisting and turning had thrown off his bearings. Tiny ice pellets hit him in the face and scratched at his exposed skin. If they were to drop, they'd certainly die. Their odds of survival weren't much better if they stayed where they were. Fear clutched at him. Fear for himself and fear for her. Selina. She shouldn't even be here. If he had only confronted her earlier or if Veronica hadn't interrupted them at the gala...
Another bullet whizzed past his head, nicking the left ear of his cowl as it went. He assessed the situation - He could attempt to make the rest of the climb without getting shot again, take out the pilot, and then fight his way through the chopper until he cornered Red Claw. Knowing Red Claw, she would use the distraction of battling her men to get away. Tactically, entering into a contained area without the element of surprise, while wounded, to battle an untold number of armed, trained men was foolish at best and suicidal at worst. His life didn't matter. But Selina's did. He couldn't let her die this way.
"Look!" she cried, gesturing to something serpentine and glittering like black diamonds below the trees. A river.
"Hold on!" They worked in tandem to swing their bodies into position above the river. Or what he hoped was the river.
"Do it!" she cried and he hit the release on the grapple. They hovered for a split second before gravity yanked them toward the ground. Red Claw's men continued to shoot, but they were falling faster than the men could take aim.
He moved quickly as she swung around to his chest. Grabbing his cape and pulling it taunt, he tried to use it as a parachute or wings. It slowed them some, but he'd never intended it to be used at these speeds or for long distances. If he managed to survive, he told himself he'd give the cape an upgrade.
"Don't let go!" he yelled when the river sparkled below them. He could see the current rushing in the moonlight. At this time of year the river was usually a solid sheet of ice capable of breaking most of the bones in their bodies upon impact. Luckily, the last few weeks had been unseasonably warm. He let his cape go and rolled onto his back; his arms firmly clutching her to his chest. They clung to each other as they plunged into the freezing water; darkness enveloping them, claiming them for its own.