All Jonathan could hear it seemed was his own frantic heart thundering in his chest as he waited for the ninja to pass down the dank tunnel into the darkness. He knew he was outnumbered and what he was doing now probably would end in failure and most likely his own death. But Jonathan also knew he had to try and this was the only way he knew how.
As the ninjas' voices faded away, Jonathan briefly scanned both directions before emerging from the shadows. Too much this reminded him of his early days evading bullies by hiding and creeping along, hoping he wouldn't be seen by Stan or one of his cronies. As a scrawny adolescent boy, it seemed that sort of behavior fit him better than now, dressed in a suit and accustomed to not hiding or fearing anyone now.
But you've spent most of your life being afraid. That's why you relied on Scarecrow.
Jonathan passed by a pipe that read Sect. G8 and hoped somehow he knew where he was going. The detonating bomb was located at the center somehow and as he followed the ninja at a safe distance, he hoped at least he was heading in the right direction. Regardless, one of the central duties this night he imagined would be to guard such a precious and all-important weapon. It would be the one thing Ducard hinged all his hopes upon in the destruction of Gotham City now and Jonathan was certain Ducard would not be disappointed a second time.
The voices of the ninja faded into the distance and Jonathan kept a steady pace, watching from the shadows. They seemed to be drawing near the nexus and Jonathan realized he was too close now and had come too far to throw it all away to simple carelessness.
He remembered how he had "escaped" the military compound, telling the ninja that the toxin was ready for Ducard and it had to be delivered personally. Jonathan was impressed to some measure how high an estimation Ducard had of Jonathan's abilities – or how badly Ducard needed the toxin – for the ninja took Jonathan hardly without question on the same cramped van he had been ferried upon to Gotham City.
His heart raced and a sickeness crept over him as again he was surrounded by the black-masked killers, realizing he was outnumbered and outmatched physically should he make a false move in their presence. No, Jonathan would have to outwit them with his mind – it always was his most powerful weapon against even his deadliest enemies. Jonathan remembered how his heart raced when the van finally slowed, stopped and stood before the entrance of the compound. Two ninja, one on each side of Jonathan, escorted him through the entrance and his eyes for a moment had to adjust to the darkness.
Surely Bat-man would be at home in such a place, he had thought.
And to Jonathan the darkness was secondary to the smell of stagnant water with a trace of a fouler stench. The ninja shoved him to the narrow walkway so they wouldn't have to slosh through the brown-colored liquid lapping through the pipes.
Ducard chose well, Jonathan thought. The smell alone would be enough to keep the curious away!
The ninja led Jonathan away from where the majority of the ninja had gone – down the large pipe Jonathan guessed held the megaton bomb at its epicenter – and instead was taken through a smaller channel. The long, arching pipe curved over them and a few sickly lights glowed dimly at long intervals, casting shallow pools of light so they wouldn't stumble over their own feet or slip off the walkway into the foul water. Although Jonathan guessed these ninja could trace every inch of this subterranean place in deep midnight and it would be him who would be stumbling blindly.
He saw a door approaching him on the right, one with peeling paint and rusting at its hinges from the damp. The ninja stopped before the door, but didn't open it. Instead, in a whisper of motion, one ninja slipped a small cell phone from his black folds and turned his eyes down to press a number to dial.
Jonathan's heart seemed to stop as he realized in a moment his plan was about to fail. Would it be Ducard on the other line or another ninja telling him to bringing Jonathan in for questioning? Jonathan had neither the time nor a second chance at this. He took a deep breath and pressed the release button on the toxin device concealed beneath his coat sleeve.
The toxin mechanism wasn't as graceful or elegant as his previous one – the one he lost on that fateful night that now seemed ages ago when Ducard found him huddled nearly frozen to death in an alley – but it worked well enough for all purposes. The ninja gasped as an odorless, invisible gas surrounded them and before they had wit and sense to turn on Jonathan with the intent to kill, they both crumpled on to the concrete in front of his polished black leather shoes. He didn't expect the other ninja would be so gullible or be such easy prey.
Now Jonathan was aware of every drip, every lap of water, keeping his ears open for ninja, who had a penchant for moving silently and striking without warning or mercy. But in the same token so had Scarecrow on so many occasions, taking his victims unaware; his victims only realizing their error when mixed with the bile of their own terror and the hoarseness of their screams.
Jonathan saw a ninja standing sentry up ahead and stopped before rounding the corner, trying to gaze at what room he was guarding. Was it the all important room that held the massive detonation or just a meeting room where some ninja chose to remain undisturbed? Jonathan was tempted to discover what was in the room, but it was too much of a risk for what might be nothing more than one of the many guard rooms that littered the place. No, for something so valuable surely it would merit more than one ninja sentry.
A voice suddenly came from ahead and Jonathan froze, seeing another ninja approach the guard room from the opposite direction. The ninja ran up, almost breathless and began sputtering something urgently to the guard ninja in another language – an Asian one – and it sounded as though something important had just happened. He wondered if it pertained to the bomb – if something went wrong with it or Ducard's plans. But then he heard one thing he could understand within the torrent of indecipherable language – his own name.
They must be looking for me and if that ninja came from the other direction, I would have been discovered by now. I must be cautious. I have no room for error in this.
Jonathan began to slink back and out of view from the guard and reporting ninja, into the shadows and back along the tunnel from whence he came.
Why slinking in the shadows! You could be master of this place – master of this city by now under me – if you would only trust me, Scarecrow hissed.
Jonathan winced, hearing Scarecrow's abrasive voice echo in his mind when he so desperately needed to concentrate. How long had it been since he had taken his medication last or was it the stress that brought Scarecrow to the forefront in his psyche once again?
You are not being smart in this, Jonathan. Just what do you think you will accomplish except getting yourself killed!
Saving the city, Jonathan thought lamely.
Saving? You've destroyed it with all your doings so far, cried Scarecrow. The toxin, your deal with Ducard! You are at fault and now the bomb could be anywhere. Do you plan to wander this damn sewer all night until you are caught or killed? If you planned on saving the city, my Reign of Terror would have been the best way –
Just shut up you! Shut up you damn filthy pile of straw!
Jonathan desperately tried to shove Scarecrow back into the recesses of his mind, but he had grown too strong now, too strong now his mind had allowed Scarecrow to give vent to his rage. A curve and juncture met Jonathan in the pipeline and for the life of him he couldn't recall passing this way before, although he was sure he had retraced his tracks.
Oh, the ever-brilliant Dr. Jonathan Crane strikes again, Scarecrow sneered. Should we go right or left or perhaps should we break out a road map?
Jonathan could feel perspiration break out on his forehead. Time was of the essence and here he didn't know which way to go – the right pipe or the left – let alone which way now led to the detonation bomb at the heart of the maze. Perhaps early on he had some vague sense of direction, some hint of which way it might lie, but now – he hated to admit to himself – he was lost.
Well you have to pick a direction – you can't stop now.
Jonathan entered the left pipe and its darkness. As he moved through it he couldn't see much of anything except the distant gleam of light at the end. He heard the steady dripping and Scarecrow's constant grumbling. The lack of light magnified the shadows and made Jonathan even more uneasy. Where was he going and what would its end be?
Jonathan Crane, trying to play the hero. So are you trying to be Bat-man now, Scarecrow hissed in disgust. You know even if you save the city they still will hate you, look down on you, ignore you. They will love Bat-man. Probably give all the credit to him what you are doing. Is that what you want, Jon? You risk your life, maybe even get killed for it and are forgotten or have people come to spit on your grave?
If they continue to hate me and my memory it's because of you, Scarecrow.
It's because of me you'll finally get the respect you deserve!
"Enough!"
Jonathan's voice echoed down the long, hollow pipe and in that moment of terror he realized he had said the word out loud instead of in his mind. A voice then came in response from other end of the tunnel – an Asian language – the language of the ninja. Jonathan saw a shadow break the bright light at the end of the tunnel, then enter the pipe, the water splashing loudly as the ninja's feet raced in pursuit of him. Jonathan turned and scrambled back toward the other end of the tunnel.
As soon as he reached its end, he took the pipe he passed before – the one on the right – as a means of escape now. He could still hear the ninja calling after him in his own language, echoing long and hollow through the pipes. But now the ninja's voice seemed joined by others and knew now he had been discovered. His heart raced madly in panic as he heard the ninja's footsteps following him from behind. This reminded him too much of the old bully days, when he was chased down dark alleys to be beaten for fun. Jonathan thought he had gained enough power – that his intelligence would prevent such a horrible thing from happening again. It can't happen again – not now!
Jonathan, Scarecrow whispered, almost gently. Oh, Jonathan.
The ninja's feet grew closer, gaining on him in the pipe. Jonathan was slender and fast but not as athletic and quick as the ninja. It would not be long now before they had him.
There is no need to fear, Jonathan. You are Fear! Just let me, Jon. Let me take them.
No, I can't!
Jon! We don't have time for this. They will kill you and where will that leave Gotham City and your precious plans of saving it! Let me take them, Jon … You know I can.
Jonathan suddenly stopped his running and stood dead still in the water and closed his eyes. The footsteps were so close now they must be only a few feet away.
No, Scarecrow. I can take them!
Jonathan slipped on a simple gas mask, not in the semblance of Scarecrow, and swiftly turned on the ninja, who seconds later were cloaked in sleeping gas.
The Gotham City SWAT team had fanned out from every direction throughout the Water Works and the Bomb Squad was busy at work. Ninja were being swiftly taken down with hypodermic guns. Gunfire was considered too dangerous and might set off any explosives and proceed with the detonation of whatever device they had. But although everything seemed to be running smoothly, Commissioner Gordon seemed troubled, looking for someone and wouldn't relax until that someone – whoever that might be – appeared.
Emily guessed this as she studied his features. She became a good judge of character from her years at the daycare center and Emily realized she too now felt the same way. She could not relax or feel at ease until she was back at Jonathan's side again, knowing he was safe. And she knew he was somewhere within this bomb-infested place, which could explode in an inferno death at any moment.
Jonathan, may you still be okay. I hope we can see each other again and be far from all of this.
Emily still felt sick inside for her betrayal – the long betrayal of spying on him for Ducard. But she didn't know if she could ever confess this to Jonathan if she did see him again in this life. Would he ever forgive her? Perhaps even this would be too cruel a wound to heal, especially for Jonathan, who had been hurt by so much in the past.
"Miss Andrews, thank you for your help and your valuable information," Commissioner Gordon finally said. "Now I fear the danger might turn for the worse and think, for your safety, you should leave the Gotham City Water Works. We still have not secured the area nor dismantled all the bombs."
For a moment Emily was stunned at what Gordon was saying. She had risked her life and betrayed her love – already a terrible cost to her – and now she was being asked to leave?
"I appreciate the sentiments, commissioner, but I have a loved one down here. No, he is not a criminal, but he is in danger. I'm afraid I can't leave, even if it means my death," Emily said.
"You are a brave and courageous woman. We can't thank you enough what you have done," Gordon said. "But there is nothing more you can do here. Please, go with Officer Hanson to a place of safety and return to the police station with him."
Officer Hanson, a man in his late twenties with a bullet-proof vest and a black Gotham City P.D. uniform gently, but firmly touched Emily's arm, partly in encouragement, partly command, to come along with him.
"No … wait … I can't leave. Don't you understand!" cried Emily.
But suddenly her voice was muffled by a rush of wind from outside and sudden darkness as something blocked the manhole from above. The silence was followed by a faint rustling of wings and – almost soundlessly in the dark – something in black landed graceful on to the concrete floor. Emily at first didn't know what she was looking at, she was so in shock.
A man dressed up like a bat? It can't be the Bat-man, can it, Emily thought. But why be so shocked? You rode with a madman wearing a burlap mask.
"Batman, it's so good to see you," Commissioner Gordon said. "And not a moment too soon."
"There are ninja, how many," asked Batman.
"We're uncertain. So far we've encountered 20 to 25 but who knows how many more there are."
"Ninja … sounds like Ra's Al Ghul. Perhaps a new one has risen?"
"Or the old one still remains," Gordon said. "Miss Andrews supplied us with some valuable information … about a Henri Ducard."
"Ducard … he is dead," Batman said decisively.
"Miss Andrews has been in communication with this Ducard."
"How often?"
"Miss Andrews, maybe you could tell – uh – Miss Andrews?"
But Emily no longer stood next to Officer Hanson or any of the other Gotham City officers or the SWAT team.
She was gone.
The darkness seemed to gather and grow in the tunnel, moving ever closer toward Jonathan. He pressed himself against the cold concrete and then sprinted ahead, trying to outrun the shadows that seemed to be everywhere, stalking him now.
What have I gotten myself into now? What have I done?
You stupid fool! If I had been in charge none of this would have happened, Scarecrow hissed. But it still is not too late. We can still save ourselves, Jonathan. You can save yourself. Just let me take over.
In his heart Jonathan resisted, terrified of the enemies that seemed to be everywhere now, but even more afraid of letting go, letting Scarecrow rule him and lose the vestiges control – and with it the last frail threads of sanity that surely would unravel from him. Inside he trembled, every muscle straining as he gasped for breath through the basic gas mask he continued to breathe from in case he needed to use the gas again. His right shoe slipped on the slick walkway and he splashed loudly into the water. A few rats scampered up the slimy sides of the concrete wall. If any ninja weren't alerted to his presence they were now.
Jonathan, is this your idea of a 'plan' of saving Gotham! Face it, Jon. That is over now! You must save yourself! Right now you are stumbling blindly in the dark, letting your fear guide you. Don't let Fear be your master, let us be its master and wield it as a weapon against Them!
A loud cry came from the left curve of an expansive pipe, echoing toward Jonathan. From the Asian accent and words, Jonathan knew it was the ninja and that they'd be upon him soon. Jonathan tried to gain a foothold back on the slick walkway and run the opposite direction, but then he also saw shadows and movement from the opposite direction and his heart stood still. Frantically he gazed all around him to see if there was another pipe he could run down or take refuge. But he was in a mainline pipe and there were no branching pipes he could escape into.
As he stood still, panicked, his heart racing, the ninja from the left side rounded the bend of the pipe and came into view. Although there were not a lot of them – about four – Jonathan knew he could not fight them physically and with reinforcements coming soon, his situation was dire. It was best to take care of them quickly.
Jonathan prepared the toxin device underneath his coat sleeve, readying it to disperse the gas at maximum pressure and prayed it would be sufficient. He waited for the ninja to get closer, steeling his nerves as they neared him and knowing physically he'd be no match for them. He would be defenseless and helpless without the toxin device he now had. A ninja was yelling at him, probably to surrender and Jonathan slowly raised his arms, as if obeying him and he realized he'd have only one shot at this – only one shot to subdue them before the others came.
And then what?
The question lay heavy in the pit of his stomach. Should he continue to fight until the sleeping gas and the toxin were gone and he was overwhelmed by the ninja? This truly would be madness!
In an instant, too quick for Jonathan to fully comprehend, the lead ninja who had crept up on him as he stood still, supposedly in surrender, swiftly and suddenly lunged out and grabbed his arm to force him to the ground in submission. Part in panic and part in anger, Jonathan lashed out and shot the sleeping gas full into the ninja's face, who stood dumbfound a moment before collapsing at his feet.
The accompanying ninja stood still a moment, not knowing what to do next, but then sprung into action. Jonathan tried the gas on them, but they must have held their breath or his supply was running low for it had little effect on them. He now had no resort but to run and then he saw before him what he was running to. The reinforcements had arrived in his moment's delay – about 20 ninja stood blocking his way to freedom at the other end of the pipe. He now had no escape.
I'm going to die here.
It was not a thought born out of depression or despair, just a matter of fact from a calculating mind and if there was one thing Dr. Crane prided himself on – even painfully so – was not deluding himself with optimistic visions when reality told him otherwise. And his reality – now – was painfully clear.
Emily, I'm so sorry I failed. I hope at least you are safe and far from here.
The ninja slowly moved out and surrounded Jonathan, leaving a wide ring around him where just Jonathan and the unconscious ninja now lay. He wondered what they were waiting for and knew the ninja could kill him quickly if they wished to. But the ninja didn't advance, there was just a little muttering between them in their own language and he thought he heard some soft laughter. Next thing he heard was a high whistling sound and a flash of metal through the air.
Something sharp embedded close to Jonathan in the wall and shivered from the impact. He looked at the barbed teeth and blood red Chinese characters gleaming against the carbon steel – a Shuriken throwing star. Another one hissed through the air, whirling fast and missing him by an inch. Laughter roared among the ninja at their new sport and Jonathan's terror dissipated to rage at the sound of their amusement.
How dare they laugh at me! Do they think I am a game?
A Shuriken flashed through the air and this time Jonathan was greeted by sharp pain as it sliced through the edge of his left trouser and nicked his leg. He could feel a drop of blood dripping from the wound and with it his anger running freely.
A ninja stepped to the forefront, a star in hand, with much cheering and laughter. He then turned, preparing for a very well aimed and special throw at his target. Then, as he was about to release the lethal weapon, a cloud suddenly obscured his vision and he was choked by a gas that burned his lungs. The star fell from his limp fingers, clattering to the ground as he gasped and wheezed. When he turned to look through the haze, he saw he was surrounded by monsters. But nothing was more horrifying than the demon he was about to throw the weapon at just a moment ago.
"Yes! Fear me," the demon demanded. "Fear me all of you!"
To the ninja's surprise, the lesser monsters cowered before the demon, shrieking and howling, begging for mercy as the demon raised his black claw. The ninja also cowered, hoping he would not be the demon's prey as payment for trying to hurt him – although but a moment before he was disguised as a harmless enough looking man.
The ninja in the forefront screamed, pushing against each other and struggling to get away from Jonathan while the other ninja, unaffected by the toxin – too far away from its aim or who inhaled too weak a dose – watched in astonishment at the scene unfolding before them.
The ninja gazed at Jonathan, who now stood tall and proud, his arm aiming, ready to administer more of the gas to whoever dared approached him. But the ninja who did not taste the toxin would not be so easily intimidated. And in a deafening war cry, the ninja began to surge forward, determined to tear the slight man wielding the toxin apart if that was what was necessary to defeat him. Jonathan's face remained an unreadable mask, even in the face of his impending death as the ninja swarmed toward him.
"Enough," thundered a voice.
The black wave of ninja, so intent in their sole purpose to destroy, suddenly was halted – as if frozen by the voice – and then stood still and at attention.
"What is this," demanded the voice, laced with anger. "So many ninja needed to take down one man when more pressing duties have been assigned to you?"
A tall, strongly-built man dressed in black tunic, similar to the ninja, emerged from the darkness. But Jonathan did not need the light to recognize this man – he could recognize his voice anywhere – Henri Ducard.
He walked out amongst the ninja and they parted as he swept silently past, a dark glare in his steely gray eyes, towering amongst them in his anger.
"Since when does it take twenty ninja to take down an unarmed man," Ducard demanded.
Jonathan thought he heard a ninja mutter something to Ducard, but his glare just as quickly withered up whatever the ninja whispered to him.
"I gave you all an order and this is how you how you follow it?"
Ducard then stiffened, bringing himself up to his full towering height and barked out an order to the dispirited ninja, who quickly dispersed and disappeared like shadowy threads into the pipes leading to their designated posts. The few toxin-affected ninja were hauled away by their brethren and likewise disappeared, their screaming fading and eventually vanishing through the pipes. And then Jonathan and Ducard were left alone in that manmade cavern, his steely gaze now boring into him. In that moment, somehow Jonathan wished he was surrounded by the legion of murderous ninja rather than having to face Ducard again.
Henri tucked his hands behind his back and almost looked at Jonathan in amusement.
"Dr. Jonathan Crane, the genius behind the Fear Toxin – I would have expected more from you than this and certainly more caution on your part."
Jonathan felt like screaming out "What choice did you give me you egomaniacal murderer!" But instead he fell back on what was safe and ambiguous – he kept silent and maintained an unreadable expression on his face.
Ducard shook his head and muttered "Jonathan, Jonathan" as if he was talking to a well-intentioned but deluded child "you have such potential, but why waste it on this?"
"Perhaps you leave me no choice," Jonathan said, feeling a well of anger rise within him.
Ducard shot a steely gaze at him in surprise and anger.
"No choice? There always is a choice – the choice to do what is right, what is for the good of all humanity," cried Ducard. "And you truly believe saving this corrupt and decadent city is the only choice you can make?"
"Forgive me, but I fail to comprehend how killing millions of people is good for humanity," Jonathan said tersely.
"Indeed … and that is why it seems we never can see eye to eye, because you think all humanity is created equal Jonathan – that even the most horrible criminal can be cured and redeemed by your treatments. But Dr. Crane, sometimes it is best to wipe the slate clean and start afresh."
"And will I be on this 'slate' among the millions of others you will murder," Jonathan demanded.
"That is yet to be determined," said Ducard. "Again the choice is yours, but there is something perhaps that will change your mind."
"I am through with your Devil's Bargain."
"A Devil's Bargain – is that what you call it," Ducard said, amused. "At one time you were eager enough to sign your name on the dotted line in order to save your beloved Arkham. But you also know this – once you sign your name in blood it can never be washed away." He held out his hand to Jonathan. "Come, you must see the fine print of this 'bargain' before you choose to tear up the contract."
Jonathan hesitated to follow Ducard, but realized now his options had run out. Dread filled him as he sensed they neared their destination with each turn and passage through the winding pipe ways. At last they came to a small, unassuming door painted a dull green with paint that had begun to warp and peel from the constant moisture.
Ducard looked at Jonathan with almost a devilish grin.
"I think you'll be surprised by who is behind this door. It probably will be the last person you'd expect to see here."
Ducard slid the key into the lock and it clicked open. Jonathan could feel his heart quicken as Ducard turned the latch and gently pulled the door open.
Inside the room, flanked by ninja, was a woman he didn't expect to see – one with hair that used to be a rich brown but had long since turned gray and eyes once so sharp and clear that stared blankly at the inside of her prison walls. Jonathan felt his legs nearly give way at the sight as his heart filled with both joy and sorrow.
"Mom," Jonathan gasped.