Chapter 16: High Stakes
Three days after she'd left, Andi was still wondering if she'd made the right decision.
When she'd first volunteered for this, she had naively thought that she could merely return to working for Gotham PD as if nothing had happened. But both Bruce and—especially—Gordon had had other ideas. Between the two of them, Andi was hidden so well that she doubted the Joker could find her even if he was looking, something she wasn't too sure of at this point.
She hadn't been allowed to leave the apartment for more than five minutes at a time, and so she was now curled up, as she had done more and more often lately, on a horrible orange couch, its stiff bristles poking through her new designer clothes, watching the TV listlessly for news on the outside world. While the marshals were polite, they were also professional to the core and refused to be drawn into small talk, leaving Andi stuck watching GCN for information, just like the rest of the city. And she'd only been allowed to speak to Gordon once in an unsuccessful bid to decrease her protection. With half of Gotham on the point of revolting, she'd have thought that he'd be happy to put some of the marshals to better use. Instead she had gotten a brusque scolding and was told that, no, she would not be allowed near the police station to work with evidence and, no, she could not contact Pam under any circumstances. She had conveniently forgotten to mention that Pam had her cell phone number, but so far her friend either hadn't been able or hadn't needed to call.
"Ms. Taylor?" The leader of the four man unit currently babysitting her tapped her shoulder diffidently. She had nearly snapped his head off when he'd startled her earlier in the day to ask what sort of take-out she wanted. "It's nearly one in the morning. Would you like to go to bed?"
No, Ms. Taylor wouldn't like to go to bed. No matter how she tried to fix it, her sleep schedule was still skewed by the events of the past week. The past month to be honest; ever since Alfred had kidnapped her, she'd become more and more nocturnal. Still, Andi supposed she had better call it a night and pretend to sleep, if only so that these marshals could trade shifts and get some rest themselves. She nodded and went into the musty cubbyhole of a bedroom to change, pulling off both of the cameras first and carefully facing them towards the wall. Trust only went so far, even with a friend like Bruce. He had his playboy reputation for a reason.
A burst of static in her miked ear made Andi pause in the act of pulling on her pajama shirt, but it went quiet a second later. She hadn't communicated with Bruce at all in the past few days, nor had sightings of Batman even been reported on the news, what with the Joker and the swelling chaos taking up most of the air time.
Strange that his not being there should be something Andi regretted. After only three days without him, she felt as if she had walked back into real life from a fairy land. Without the solid evidence of Bruce Wayne's double life in front of her eyes, his whole existence seemed fantastical, as shadowy a legend as he'd been before she'd unmasked him. Not to mention that Andi missed having Alfred to help her with her bandages. Her stitches were almost healed, but changing them and checking for infection on her own was a cumbersome business.
The Joker, on the other hand, was becoming more and more present in her life. Although Andi had had no chance to review evidence on him, she found herself constantly looking over her shoulder for him to appear. The television stayed on at all hours, waiting for news, and his attacks were becoming more and more deranged and flagrant. He had struck in the middle of her first day away from Wayne Manor at a mental institution, then the day after that at a nursing home. At least twenty total were killed in the explosions and, as Andi had suspected would happen, people were reported missing in each one. Just over an hour ago she had heard of the latest attack. He had waited until 11:59 PM today—yesterday now—to blow up half of North City Park, causing an unknown number of deaths among the homeless. Nobody had come up with a missing person's list yet, but Andi was willing to bet another hostage had been taken from there too.
One of the marshals coughed loudly in the other room and Andi jumped. She had been taking quite long enough to change; no doubt they were wondering if the Joker had snatched her from her bedroom window like one of the women from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. He coughed again and Andi rolled her eyes, poked her head out the door.
"It's alright, it's alright, I was just—"
There was no one in the room.
Andi froze, a deer in headlights. The marshals were gone. Who had coughed? Not important. They had vanished and she instinctively knew what that meant. She had left the cameras in the back of the room. Andi knew that she should go move for them while she still had the chance, but her eyes caught movement. A head of green hair peeked above the couch's back and slowly turned from the TV towards Andi.
"Don't, um, worry too much about it. I don't think they mind much of anything right now." The Joker giggled again, the same sound Andi had mistaken for a cough.
Something in Andi's mind managed to re-start. Her thumb fumbled at the ring, turned the panic button. Bruce's voice sounded in her ear as if he'd been waiting for her to switch it on.
"Andi? Andi what's happening?"
"Could I—could I at least grab my shoes first?" She hoped that would clue Bruce into the fact that she had been so stupid as to let the camera sets out of her sight.
The Joker burst out laughing. "Oh very good Tay-lurrrrrr. But, um, no."
He stood up and Andi's screaming brain finally made the connection to her legs. If she could only get to that knife, just reach one of those chemically-treated shirts instead of these tattered old pajamas… She tried to bolt, jumped back into the room, slammed the door—
He jumped in before it could close, before she could even fully turn, and they crashed into the room together, the Joker on top. She gagged on the stench of fish and old blood, thrashed like a trapped animal. Have to get out, have to get loose! Just five damned seconds! The Joker whooped and growled toyingly at her, the way other people did when tussling with a small dog. Why hadn't Bruce put anything on her pajamas?
Have—To—Get—Free!
Instead of trying to slither loose she struck, teeth first, straight at the face. Greasepaint and dirt. She dug deeper and got hot dripping blood. She wanted to gag but held on, locked her jaw. A hand finally got free and she wedged it against his waist. If she could only use it to—
The Joker howled and then slapped both of Andi's ears hard. Agony lanced straight through her head, her eardrums felt shattered, and she thought she felt the microphone crunch. Her jaw relaxed and he ripped free, heedless of the chunk of flesh he left in her mouth.
"Trying to give me new scars, hmmm? You wanna know how I got these ones?" He nodded eagerly, a sick light in his eyes.
Andi spit the bit of his face clenched in her teeth straight at him.
"Oh I like you! Little Harley just cried and begged, but you! You have a mean streak!" He grinned insanely, bared his yellowed teeth at her as if threatening to bite back. "Arrgh! Rawr!"
Andi rammed her forehead at his nose, but he darted back and then grabbed her head with one hand, slammed it hard against the floor. White stars burst everywhere in Andi's vision, and then they were literally rubbing noses, his face so close to hers that he was blurred. "Wanna go again? You know, you almost make up for how boring it was to toy with Lit-tle Lee-na! I—"
The mention of her friend's name. Andi couldn't describe what she did. No limbs free, no leverage, no momentum, and she somehow surged, propelled herself up and him with her. They rolled, the Joker still wrapping her in his long limbs. Her knee rammed up, trying to aim between his legs, but he blocked, slammed her into the door frame. The shock to her spine laxed her muscles and the Joker sprang off to sit on her chest, a knife at her throat.
"Now, now!" Andi could see his tongue running along the inside of his scars. "I, um, I like games too, but I need to get going. Or else those other marshals will come and that would end all the fun!"
His mud-colored eyes darted to her face and suddenly stayed there, zeroed in on something, his frenzy pulled into a concentration all the more frightening by his lack of focus before. Andi froze as his free hand suddenly reached out to her hair and delicately plucked a pea sized chunk of plastic and wiring free…
Part of the microphone. Damn.
He raised his eyebrows at her and nodded appreciatively, as if she'd told him some big secret, then hopped to his feet. Andi tried to crawl away but he hauled her up by the neck of her nightshirt, threw both his arms around her from behind and whispered in her ear. "Oh. I, uh, forgot to mention. You're now invited to the party. You see, uh, the Batman won't come out to play unless you do too."
Andi twisted and fought, but he barely seemed to notice as he dragged her from the room.
"Alfred? Alfred I need visual!"
"I've put it together sir, but her personal ones are still only showing me the walls of Miss Andi's room because she's not wearing them. The others have been disabled somehow."
Bruce swore and pushed the Tumbler to an even higher speed. The Joker had to have high-tailed it to get from North City Park to Andi's 'safehouse' because the apartment was as far away from the park as you could get in Gotham. "What about her GPS signal?"
"Still strong and steady sir. I'm sending the map to the Tumbler's computer right now. She seems to have been moved into a vehicle of some kind."
"And the audio?"
"Gone now that they're out of the apartment. The Joker broke her microphone and the laser ones are only set to listen to her rooms."
Bruce grimaced. The microphone. The Joker had found Andi's microphone, had put together why she was bugged, what their entire plan was. How had things gone so horribly wrong? More than anything else, Bruce wanted to pull her out now, but he could almost hear her screaming in his ear to leave her to at least give the whole escapade a chance to work. And without other ways to track the Joker, the hope that he would lead them back to his lair might still be their best chance. His at least. Her chances were free falling with every moment he left her in that monster's grasp.
The computer beeped at him and a glance showed Bruce that Andi's car was heading almost in his direction, angled towards the river. "Tell me if you get anything from her or traffic cameras," he ordered, "Make sure that satellite's following the car she's in. I want make, model, plates, the works."
"Very good sir."
Bruce nearly ran straight into a riot, careened sideways and took out a streetlamp avoiding it. He threw the Tumbler into reverse and shot through a back alley instead, tearing through the parked cars crammed inside as if they were cardboard stage props. Had to get there in time, had to find her. His foot was nearly flat on the gas pedal. "And get the police on this too!" he spat, "Gordon needs to get people out of the Joker's way!"
He sped across the river into downtown Gotham, and found that he was almost on top of Andi's signal. The Tumbler skidded into a parking lot to hide and had just entered stealth mode when a huge purple church van swung past. Bruce didn't need to glance at the GPS to know that that was it. The van was the only one on the road and it was weaving drunkenly from lane to lane, a hair from spinning out of control. Before Bruce could decide between Andi and the Joker, gunshots sprayed from inside like water from a sprinkler system. That was it. He was getting her out of there.
The Tumbler rammed into the back of the van, sent out a shower of darts to puncture the tires. The van swerved away yet again, skidded, and suddenly a figure was flung loose, twirled wildly, left a fiery trail of bullets in its wake from the machine gun it shot as it fell. The Joker. Bruce barely kept himself from ramming into him, then pulled up short as he saw the van, Andi still inside, plow straight into the river. For a split second it bobbed up, and then something broke and the engine dragged it under.
No time for the Joker. Bruce stripped off the cape, the heaviest of the body armor, flung himself from the Tumbler, and dove straight into the river.
Pitch blackness, ice and filth engulfing him. He could barely tell which way was up and the current plucked at him, twirled and embraced him like a living thing, dragged him away from the van and downwards. Bruce thrashed against it, lungs bursting, and wrestled his way to the top until he could get his head above water, disoriented and gasping.
The river had swept him downstream, the water, the air, all dark, couldn't tell where he was facing, where was the water or the air or the shore… He plunged again, forcing his way against the current, scanning desperately. Couldn't see the van couldn't find—
There! Headlights flicked on, fifteen feet ahead and to his right. Andi had figured out how to signal him.
He surfaced again, breathed as deeply as he could, and plunged. Fifteen feet. Might as well have been a marathon. Bruce somehow forced his way towards it, but he was taking too long and Andi might try to leave the car, but he couldn't think about that, she'd be there, she'd be there, she'd be there, it wouldn't be like Rachel, no one else would die for him. Trying to reach her in time and he wasn't making it and he had to save her again, had to make it right had to—
The current hadn't pulled the van. Bruce came level with it, gulped in more air, dove again.
His eyes were wide open, but even with the headlights he had to cling to the van, feel his way along the metal frame until he came to the passenger door. Both windows were half down, the whole thing already flooded. Andi was in there, trying to force the door, her movements somehow slow and desperate together. Bruce met her panicked eyes for the briefest second, motioned her back and then pulled. Door still stuck. He yanked again, grinding metal, and then he was in, had grabbed her, was kicking up. For such a small woman she was a deadweight in his arms.
Everything was ice, his limbs numb and slow, his lungs shrieking for air, and then he'd clawed his way upwards, managed a choked mouthful of water and air and was pulled back under. Like a riptide. Don't swim against it. Go with it, angle for the bank. His legs flopped more than kicked, barely kept his head above water. Here he was in top physical condition and five minutes of this had exhausted him; had Andi managed a breath this entire time? Can't think about it. Can't help her if I'm one step away from drowning.
His legs were so numb that he felt the movement stop before he really sensed the mushy ground beneath him. His limbs were overcooked pasta, but he somehow stood, slogged to the shore, Andi held against his chest. Barely past the shoreline he collapsed, somehow avoided crushing her.
She wasn't moving under him.
"Come on! Come on, Taylor, get up!" Bruce had thought his adrenaline had run out, but it spiked again as he rolled over, sat beside her. Not breathing. No pulse. He started chest compressions, breathed into her mouth. No movement.
Again.
Again.
Again.
"Damn it Andi, don't you dare die on me!" He slammed his fist into her chest once, twice, thrice. "Get UP!"
Water and river filth spewed from her mouth like a fountain, her eyes flew open. Bruce turned her onto her side so that she wouldn't choke again and for several minutes there was only the sound of her ragged breaths, interrupted periodically by retching. He sat back on his heels. Alive. He signaled for the Tumbler and waited for Andi to recover. His mask was still on, all the headgear inside that he used to contact Alfred probably beyond repair by now. Nothing to do but wait.
Andi sat up gingerly and Bruce moved to support her weight with one arm. She spat to one side. "What—what happened?"
"'What happened?' You almost drowned is what happened!"
Rough coughing. "I know that. I mean—what happened—with the Joker? What made you decide to attack?"
"I had microphones listening from outside the room, so I realized you were in trouble. Thought about trying to play it out anyways but after the gunshots I couldn't just leave you in there."
"Good choice." Andi's voice was still hoarse, gasping. She shouldn't be talking at all, but Bruce knew better than to try interrupting. "Joker was about to—to kill me. If you didn't show up soon. Wouldn't have taken me anywhere important."
"Well he got away. Jumped out of the van at the last minute. No doubt he's running wild again."
She made a noise that wasn't quite gagging. Bruce turned her by the shoulders to face him and realized that her tremors were harder than ever. The cold. But that wasn't quite it either. She was… giggling.
"The joke's—on him after all."
"Andi?" Had the Joker given her something? Hit her in the head? "Andi are you alright?"
"Better than alright." Andi grinned up at him, her expression somehow fierce despite its weakness. "I slipped my GSU ring into his pocket."
Author's Note: What's this? Another early Irish update?
Yes! As celebration of an Irish bowl victory (and as a consolation prize to the Ducks... what a heartbreaker), and for my last week of break, I managed to write another post in nearly record time. Actually, it would have been out sooner, but I was having technical problems.
I'd like to thank all the random strangers who put up with me walking up to them on the streets and asking what they'd do to find where their kidnapper was from if they were in Andi's situation. No, seriously. I got desperate enough trying to brainstorm this chapter that I asked just about everyone I could find how they'd figure out where a murderous maniac was going to take them before they got to their destination. If you don't mind being considered insane, I'd recommend the experience; answers were really interesting to say the least.
Oh, and for the record, I did include (or at least imply) the part where Andi managed to get her ring into the Joker's pocket while he was distracted. Anyone manage to spot it?