10:22 PM

The batcomputer―as Alfred so affectionately referred to it, more to patronize me than anything―finished testing and modeling what was salvageable of the plants after they had thawed. The cellular damage from the revival from the crypopreservation was pretty significant. I was lucky to recover the small amount that I had. I would have to do some more research into cryonics if I was to keep encountering more cryopreserved evidence.

In any case, the tests indicated that the plants were of a type called Synadenium Veneforii, a member of the family Euphorbiaceae, a native of the jungles of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and known for being highly toxic. Apparently, the local tribes have used it as a ritual drug for generations. According to the modeling, the toxic yield of the plant would make it a formidable narcotic in the right hands―or in this case, the wrong hands. Hands like those of Poison Ivy. After all, groundbreaking, designer narcotics were her modus operandi.

Additionally, the tissue samples from Jacinto and the other three bodies showed chemical traces similar to the plants. I concluded that Ivy had managed to synthesize the plants into a potent toxin that was used to murder Jacinto and the others. How she administered the toxin was up for debate.

The cryonics, on the other hand, did not quite make sense. Ivy felt a need to freeze the plants. But why? And, where did she get the technology and know-how?

I didn't need to stress over the answers. I was planning to squeeze them from her. All I had to do was figure out where she was.

I figured T-Don would know since he was her closest confidant and the thug responsible for organizing the job at the Docklands. So I tracked him to a midtown Mexican Restaurant off of Falcon in Gainsly called Los Angeles Divinos; a spot from which he regularly conducted illicit business. I caught up with him in the kitchen. He was being anything but cooperative.

"I ain't telling you jack, Batman!"

I had a firm grasp on T-Don's dreadlocks. His face was swollen and he was bleeding from the mouth and nose. But I guess I wasn't being persuasive enough.

I drilled him in the gut with my fist. He wretched as if he was going to puke―he didn't. Then, I dragged him over to the grill and held his face inches from the burner. The kitchen staff floundered about in a frenzied panic.

"You're trying my patience!" I roared through the voice synthesizer. "I want to know where Poison Ivy is! Call her!" I ripped his cellphone from his belt and held it in front of his face.

"Screw you, Batman! You ain't gettin' nuttin' outta me!"

T-Don was digging himself a hole. I hadn't showed up with the intent to hurt him but he was starting agitate me. I never had a problem breaking a criminal's jaw just to make a point and I was moments away from making a point.

"I ain't scared o' you!"

He was lying. And, I had had enough of his stalling. I pressed his cheek against the grill. His screams drowned out the sizzling of his skin. The kitchen staff climbed the walls.

I yanked his face from the burner, keyed the speakerphone, and again demanded that T-Don call Poison Ivy. He agreed this time.

She answered, "T-Don, we're walking in right now. Where you at?"

"It's the Bat! He's here! Get outta here! Get outta here!"

How coincidental. What were the chances of me coming here to get information on Poison Ivy and only to have her show up just as the interrogation started to become productive? There was no use in talking to T-Don anymore.

On the back of the stainless-steel grill, I could see the reflection of a cook coming to T-Don's aid with a raised meat cleaver. I released T-Don's hair and shot my elbow back making contact with the bridge of the cook's nose. Blood splattered all over his face as the fragile bones crumbled. I followed up by planting a side kick square in his chest. With a thud, he sprawled across the grease-caked floor. I tossed T-Don's cell phone over my shoulder and resumed my hold of his dreadlocks, reaching for the back of his pants with my free hand. Like an old duffle bag, I wheeled him around and launched him headlong through the kitchen door, disintegrating it explosively in myriad fragments. T-Don made earth-fall about five feet out and slid another three.

I retreated beneath my cape and made for the door ducking slightly as I passed through into the dining room; my elbows practically rubbed the doorframe and the ears of my cowl cleared it with perhaps an inch to spare.

Poison Ivy and three of her thugs stood opposite of me near the entrance. She was dressed to kill; a fur coat, slacks, green heels and a designer purse concealing a gun no doubt. The dining room, half-full patrons, fell immediately silent. Ivy and her crew held their positions. I glared at them angrily and the stared at me nervously. Guess it was going to be a stand-off. A stand-off that would surely end with weapons drawn which meant that I was going to need to disarm them.

I readied three shurikens per hand beneath my cape. The shurikens wouldn't stop Ivy and her goons but they'd afford me enough time to close the distance and take Ivy and her crew apart.

I glowered at her intensely. Her green eyes locked with mine. I could see her uneasiness. Her lips trembled but over all she hid fear well.

"Whatcha waitin' for?" T-Don yelled holding his burnt face. "Shoot that sonuvabitch!"

I managed a few steps forward before they all drew their pistols.

"Don't get crazy, Batman," Poison Ivy snapped.

T-Don was desperate. "Shoot him!"

"They won't stop me," I growled. I was referring to the guns.

"You're not the one in danger of being plugged full of holes," Ivy said in a pungent tone. And, as if choreographed, she and her thugs turned their weapons on the patrons. "All these innocent people are the ones in danger. Do you want their blood on your hands?"

Panicked whimpers and prayers filled my ears. My chest swelled with anger and frustration. In my head, I saw the flashes of two gunshots and my parents fall to the concrete lifeless.

"Friggin' shoot him! Blast that sonuvabitch!"

Ivy maintained her cool. "Shut-up, T-Don, and get up," she demanded waving at him. "We're leaving."

I didn't move. I knew better. I could take a few bullets and still manage to put her in a body cast but I wouldn't be able to stop bullets from hitting these innocent people. I had no other choice except let her go. Poison Ivy had me in check, but it wasn't checkmate.

I stormed out of the backdoor into the alley and raced for the batmobile. Perhaps I could catch her. If not, I'd get her eventually.