"Good morning, my dear," Bane rasped merrily as Kitty wandered into the kitchen.
She was back in John Daggett's townhouse, once again a prisoner.
Bane's right hand dwarfed the china teacup it held, and in her sleep-deprived, grief-stricken state Kitty absurdly focused on how he would be able to drink given the mask that covered most of his face.
He seemed completely transformed since the night before — nothing like the monster who had forced her to face up to the truth of Mateo's betrayal. Nor was he anything like the savage who had dragged her on a chain though the streets of Gotham in the middle of the night.
"Unless you can miraculously restore Mateo's pulse, then there's nothing good about it," she replied mournfully.
"Impossible, Katrina," he replied, setting the teacup down on the counter and rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt.
"Look, as long as you're holding me prisoner here again, I would like a favour. Please, I've been wearing the same clothes for days, and there's nothing in the closet but evening dresses. "If you're not going to let me go, then I need something else to wear."
Bane nodded at Vlad, who stood at the sink washing dishes.
"What you want, Kitty? Jeans? Skinny pants? The Russian-born mercenary inquired.
"A few pairs of jeans would be very nice, some flannel shirts and a coat. I'll also need some trainers, socks and underwear." she added without blinking.
"Okay," Vlad shrugged. "You what... size 4?"
"Yes, shoe size 7."
"Be back soon," he replied, removing his apron and grabbing his rifle before he left through the servant's entrance.
"You did not sleep well," Bane observed after Vlad had gone.
"No...I most certainly did not. A lot happened last night, but all I can think about is the moment Mateo dropped to the floor in that building."
"You must take comfort in the knowledge that even though he betrayed you, Mr. Garcia loved you," Bane's voice was low and deliberately seductive as he approached her.
"What are you talking about? He didn't love me! He hated me!" Kitty protested as hot tears lurked behind her eyes.
"Oh but my dear, you couldn't be more wrong. The man was besotted. He worshiped you. I confronted him about it the day he offered to betray you. He denied it, but he was impossibly in love with you. And knowing that his love was unrequited, he was willing to turn you in so he could leave the city, forget you and start a whole new life."
In truth, Bane previously had no opinion as to whether or not Mateo Garcia was in love with Kitty. He had simply messed with the actor's head — just as he was now messing with hers in order to further his agenda. Even though Mateo was now dead, Bane found himself pushing away the memory of the unexpected, surge of jealousy he'd experienced at the sight of Kitty and Mateo holding hands.
Kitty swallowed hard as she contemplated Bane's words. She recalled that it was Mateo who had shot and killed two of Bane's men inside her loft, claiming he'd do it again if necessary. If he could kill, he certainly wasn't above betrayal.
"I treated him horribly, and drove him over the edge." Kitty rationalized.
"Ah, but to my eyes the performance last night was quite moving. I can only assume that in his final moments, Mr. Garcia forgave you."
"Do you think he did, Bane? Do you really think he did?" Kitty pleaded, seeking reassurance from the musclebound mercenary.
"I do," Bane replied, inching closer to the increasingly rattled actress.
Why did you have to kill him? He was just an actor! He was no threat to you!"
"On the contrary he and his singing friends, including yourself, have been motivating the people to rebel. I cannot allow it."
"If that's true then why aren't people rioting in the streets since we started? No one has blown up City Hall. They're just performers who want to bring a little joy into the lives of the oppressed while they wait for a nuclear explosion," Kitty fabricated.
"A valid point, my dear. These performances may not have yet triggered significant rebel activity, however they have started a fire that can easily spread out of control. It is my duty to extinguish it. You have friends out there, and you will tell me where to find them or else you will never leave this place. You will have no need of the coat and shoes you asked Mr. Petrov to secure for you."
Kitty flopped down on the sectional sofa and covered her face with her hands, oblivious to his threats. Her increasing state of emotional disarray gave Bane a great deal of satisfaction.
"Mateo...why didn't you tell me that you loved me? I'm so sorry. I never knew. I never knew... Please God," she whimpered softly. "If you're there, wake me from this bad dream..."
"Come, Katrina," Bane chirped as he indicated the giant flatscreen television. "Brother Barsad is about to make an appearance on 'Good Morning Gotham', where he will be interviewed by the lovely Joanna Jardine no less. Watch with me, won't you?"
"Even as there are grave concerns about the fate of last night's performers, there are pockets of ordinary citizens who are now gathering and singing in broad daylight.
With that in mind, we're joined this morning by John Barsad, deputy to the mercenary Bane, who is of course the leader of the occupation. Good morning, Mr. Barsad. It's nice to have you with us. Let's start with the most pressing issue of the day. What do you make of the sing —"
Without warning, Barsad took the microphone from the morning host's manicured hand and instantly made it clear who would be doing all the talking when he stared directly into the camera.
"Thank you for having me, Joanna. Mornin' folks. I'm here to do a little housekeeping, so listen up. We got some ground rules here which some of you aren't following.
Out of the kindness of his heart, Bane relaxed martial law so you people could come and go as you please during the day. Come sunset, you're supposed to confine yourselves to your homes.
Some of you aren't abiding by that rule. In fact, some actors from the theatre community have been staging impromptu musical performances from windows and rooftops. We have reason to believe they are meant to inspire a rebellion."
Bane beamed with pride as Barsad continued his address. If the League of Shadows ever decided it needed a media spokesperson, then Barsad was its man.
"This is going to stop immediately, and I'll tell you why. It's gonna stop because as of last night we captured two of those actors. We have Kitty Nash in custody and we're gonna put her to work in one of our kitchens. Yea, that's right, folks. Your beloved stage star will be slaving over a hot stove. Hope you enjoyed seeing her dragged by Bane through the streets early this morning. Now that I have your attention, here's what happened to the other actor we captured."
Barsad pulled away from the camera and gestured to the bridge behind him.
"Joanna, if your camera operator will just pan over to the last body on the left... Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the late Mateo Garcia, Kitty Nash's co-star."
Several members of the 'Good Morning Gotham' crew gasped audibly at the sight of the latest addition to the bodies hanging from the bridge.
"Now, being the good journalist that she is, I'm sure Joanna will send a camera crew over there to confirm his identity. Either way, there will be no more musical performances. I doesn't matter if you're professional singers or just ordinary citizens. If we catch you, that bridge is your fate. In other words, if you sing, you swing."
In the great room of John Daggett's townhouse Kitty screamed and threw the remote at the tv.
"Stop! Cut him down!" She begged as she flew into Bane's arms, pounding on his chest. "Think of his family! Cut him down!"
"I'm afraid it's too late, Katrina," Bane rumbled as he pushed her firmly away from him. "The image is already out there. Nothing can spare his family from the horror now."
The mercenary's veins coursed with a powerful sense of accomplishment. He had never mentally tortured a woman before, let alone a beautiful and troublesome celebrity woman. The arousal he derived from it was nothing less than liberating.
"Tell me where to find your colleagues, and I will release you," he lied.
Summoning all the strength she could muster, Kitty moved away from Bane and returned to the tv to confront the gruesome sight of Mateo's corpse.
She closed her eyes and balled her fists before answering.
"No!"
Bane grabbed her wrist and wrenched her around to face him again. He was well aware of a savage impulse lurking beneath the self-discipline that had been drilled into him for years. The beast haunted him despite the League's training, and the guidance he took from literature featuring heroic and enlightened gentlemen protagonists.
It was a brutality that he'd been exposed to ever since he could remember. Men of uncontrollable lust preying upon women, taking their bodies again and again until their unholy appetites had been slaked.
Talia had often encouraged him to release the beast, politely suggesting that he was a puritan who needed to 'spread his wings'. The meaning was clear although the irony of her suggestion wasn't lost on him given the fate of her own mother in the pit.
"What is past is past," Talia had said, coldly reasoning that they should learn from it and turn it into a positive.
"I would highly recommend that you reconsider, Katrina," Bane croaked. "Refusing comes with severe consequences."
"No," she repeated stubbornly, as she struggled to free her wrist from his grip. "How did you feel when you crushed Mateo's throat?" She hissed perceptively. "Did it get you hard?"
Bane reached out with his free hand and grasped Kitty's other wrist.
"You are a woman who must always be in control, especially where there's a male involved," he smirked beneath his mask. "I'm afraid all that ends with me, Katrina. Your ex-lovers might be grateful to learn that I pinned you beneath me and showed you the true meaning of control. I will take you to hell and back without your permission, and you are welcome to hate yourself for enjoying it!"
Kitty's mouth dropped open as she melted into his arms and allowed his words to sink in.
Bane in turn released his grip on her, sensing that she had just surrendered to him. To his surprise she placed her hot palms on his wide chest and looked deep into his eyes.
"Promise?"
The triumph in Bane's eyes quickly died.
He should have anticipated that the solid foundation of this head-strong woman was far from diminished, and that it would take more than Mateo Garcia's death to break her in the way that he truly desired. No matter, the longer it took to break her, the more thrilling the endgame.
In the meantime, she was still very much the unladylike creature that he'd encountered the first time he abducted her — a woman who used crude language and propositioned him.
With that in mind he tore her robe with one violent sweep of his hand, exposing a plain underwear ensemble. Bane drank in the sight of her breasts pushing against the cotton fabric of a sensible t-shirt, and the firm belly rising above the waist band of her shorts.
Gripping her upper arm, he shoved her down the hall towards the master suite.
After checking out a few potential hideouts, Danny, Brady and Alia found themselves at the aging Bradbury Hotel, which in decades past had hosted rail passengers who had disembarked from all points at Gotham Station, the city's transportation hub. It had fallen out of favour since acquiring the reputation as the place to carry on a lunchtime affair, and its present owners had allowed it to go to seed.
"This place smells like pancakes," Brady complained as they entered the ransacked suite they had commandeered. "Just like the MGM Grand in Las Vegas."
"Yea, it stinks, but we had to get out of that detective's place in case Bane forced Kitty to give us up," Danny replied. "Hope the tv works. Looks like it's from the 90s."
"I see we have John Barsad among us again," Joanna Jardine observed as her terrified producer and crew parted like the Red Sea, allowing the bearded man with the assault weapon to approach the host for the second time that day.
"Back again, Mr. Barsad? What can we do for you?"
"A message from Bane," Barsad replied as he handed her a flash drive. "Maybe you should have a look at it before you show it to your audience...Joanna," Barsad grinned though cold blue eyes.
The sniper chatted amiably with the wary crew as he waited for Joanna and her producer to review the digital file.
Although she would have wished for the contents of the file to be more salacious, Joanna didn't want to risk rejecting it, only to have Barsad take the file down the block to a rival news network.
The file, which had been crudely edited, contained time-stamped CCTV video featuring the unmistakable figures of Bane and Kitty Nash. Joanna watched impassively as Kitty and Bane talked, watched tv, and engaged in a physical struggle that led to Bane tearing Kitty's robe. A choppy edit followed, with Bane now having a firm grip on her upper arm as he pushed her down the hall. The action switched to another camera, revealing a clear view into the master suite and Bane shoving her inside. One last edit showed Kitty from the rear and Bane facing her as he peeled off his shirt before the screen went black.
"Mmmm," Joanna murmured. "CCTV in the bedroom? That's kinky."
"What do you expect? This is John Daggett's place. He used it to feed his voyeurism rather than for security. What a sleaze."
"I'll be honest, Mr. Barsad. My producer and I are suspicious of the edits. If Bane roughed up and raped Kitty Nash, as this video suggests, then why didn't he broadcast it live and show the full horror of his villainy, as he did at the football stadium? Frankly, we think he didn't actually rape her, but wants us to think he did."
"You want me to take that theory back to him?" Barsad threatened.
"Hold your horses," Joanna cautioned. "We'll spin it in a way that will please your boss and engage our viewers."
Joanna Jardine remained on air throughout the day following the morning reveal of the body of Mateo Garcia.
"We've just showed you closed caption television video that was delivered to us moments ago, which apparently depicts Kitty Nash being manhandled by the mercenary Bane. While we can't be certain about the context of the video, there are a few theories being tossed around by loyal viewers assembled here today.
Some believe that Kitty Nash has developed a Stockholm Syndrome-type relationship with Bane. They say that having already been kidnapped by him once, the groundwork was ready and waiting for her to go over to the dark side, so to speak. Further, they believe that the file shows Bane and Ms. Nash engaged in...uhh... for lack of a better word — 'playtime'.
Some of you believe that the assault is genuine and that Bane will eventually reveal all.
Lastly, there is the belief that Bane raped and murdered her right after this video was recorded, and that hers will be the next body shown hanging from the bridge."
Still in shock over the fate of their colleague Mateo, the trio of performers collectively screamed as the video of Bane's apparent assault on Kitty was broadcast over and over by Joanna Jardine.
"Oh, Kitty! Don't let him do this to you! You've got to fight him off with everything you have," Alia sobbed, appealing to the tv as if the assault were happening in real time.
"Fucking rapist!" Brady raged. "I'll kill you with my bare hands! Who the fuck do you think you are, occupying our city and screwing our women? You and your goddamned errand boy with the rifle that's taller than him! How's that go again? 'If you sing, you swing'? Well, not on our watch!"
A moment of loaded silence followed Brady's angry tirade.
So... we're all in agreement then," Danny replied softly. Despite being the ringleader of the group, the events of the last 24 hours had left him feeling utterly defeated.
However...
"We are," Alia replied, stubbornly wiping her tear-stained face. "Boys, we have work to do!"