Chapter 10

Three nights later, Commissioner Gordon stood impatiently atop police headquarters with Lieutenant Harvey Bullock as the Bat-Signal flared through the night sky.

"Jeez Commissioner, it's been three nights. You really think we should continue. I mean, he never misses a meeting," Bullock remarked

"What the hell are you implying Bullock? A Gotham City without Batman is no city at all. Now we've got to keep trying damn it," the Commissioner retorted back, frustrated at Bullock's comment.

"All I'm sayin' is that we ain't seen Bats in under a week. I don't know, maybe somethin's happened to 'em. It ain't like him. Frankly Jim, I'm gettin' spooked."

"Bullock I don't know what's wrong; he should've contacted us two nights ago. Maybe something did happen Lieutenant, but we still must keep trying. Batman would never give up on Gotham City and we're not going to give up on him," Gordon declared, ending the discussion on the matter.

Suddenly a young frantic voice behind them startled the men. Out from the roof's entrance sprang a random on-duty cop. The cop rushed to his boss' side and hastily handed Gordon a letter.

"Commissioner Sir, we found this letter and many like it posted on telephone poles up and down the streets, all throughout the city," the young cop frenetically exclaimed.

"What is it?" Gordon inquired grabbing the note.

"We've had some detectives look at it. We think it's a riddle," the cop informed.

"Let me see that," Bullock interjected with arched brows, snatching the note from Gordon. Unfolding the white piece of paper, he read aloud:

"Batman, I know you are planning to beat me at my own game. Well, you are a fool. I am very passionate about my art, my crimes. It takes a very crazy man to beat an even crazier foe. I suppose you have figured out by now that Mayor Hill is in my custody. So, if you can solve this riddle in time, I will let the Mayor go, or at least not eliminate him.

'What makes life from death, and royalty out of criminals?'

You have 24 hours to comply."

- The Riddler

"What do you think it means Bullock?" the Commissioner asked the detective, snatching it from his hands.

"I don't know; what do you make of it Jim?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant, but shut this damn thing down. He's not coming," Gordon ordered frustrated. "Bullock, if you or Montoya need me, I'll be in my office."

Moments later in the Batcave, Bruce Wayne was applying some burn cream to some scar tissue that was already forming on his knees from the blast days before. He hadn't been out of the cave since Alfred rescued him, nearly dead from the Riddler's chemical refinery. There wasn't anything left of the place, just charred ruins. He had been buried alive from fragments of the building; that was what had shielded him from most of the explosion.

The building's debris and the insulation of the Bat-Suit were pretty much all that Bruce Wayne could give credit to for being alive at this moment. He was also lucky that the Bat-Suit was equipped with a microchip that signaled the Batcave's central computer and alerted Alfred of his immediate danger, just as it was designed to do if ever there was a serious life or death situation. Yes, had it not been for Alfred's daring and successful rescue, Bruce Wayne, and more importantly Batman, would be no more.

He couldn't help but stare at the old man, who had yet again come through for him as he had many times before. As he continued rubbing the medicated burn cream on his upper torso, he watched as Alfred stood making the final repairs to the Bat-cycle that had been slightly damaged from the blast.

Abruptly, a red light blinked at the central computer as the telephone rang. The light signaled that it was Commissioner Gordon calling for Batman. After a couple days of ignoring his nightly persona in order to heal, Bruce decided to answer, after all this was the emergency line.

"Batman here," the injured man effortlessly disguised his voice, leaning back to elevate his feet.

"Batman, my God, are you alright?" Gordon spoke with concern, out of breath and surprised that he actually got a hold of the elusive crime fighter.

"I've seen better days Jim; what's up?"

With a huff, he continued, "I'm glad you've enjoyed your little vacation, but in two nights alone, the Riddler and Catwoman have robbed another bank, and now we have a ransom note that's been posted all over Gotham publicly, in the form of a riddle."

"Any news of the Mayor's whereabouts?" he asked instead of responding to the robbery or note.

"Well no, but we know he's unharmed. You have less than twenty-four hours to solve this riddle that Nigma sent us," Gordon anxiously informed, sighing to calm his nerves.

"Listen Jim, a lot's happened in the past two days; I apologize for my absence but it was necessary."

"No need to explain anything friend but can you get to headquarters? We have much to discuss."

"I'll be there within the hour," Bruce replied, hanging up the phone. As he stood from his chair, he winced slightly at his painful knee injury.

Shaking off the sting, he raced to the costume chamber and changed from his loafers, slacks and T-shirt to another Bat-Suit.

Moments later, he strolled out of the chamber, stopping Alfred in his tracks. The lanky butler gasped in awe at the sight of his master in the bat-like garb.

Gripping the handles of the Batcycle, the Dark Knight straddled the powerful machine and gave a kick to the clutch. Revving the engine a few times to get a feel of the repaired machine, he hunched over and sped out of the cave in a flash.