Chapter 27 Break These Chains On Me
Commissioner Ethan Grant took another sip of that sludge called police station coffee. He normally avoided the stuff like the plague, but lately he found it less distasteful than sleep. For sleep, or even the illusion of it, meant thoughts of her, the woman who was assumed to be dead. He liked to imagine it wasn't true, but the highly tuned gut that served him for years was telling him otherwise. So, he waited by the Bat Signal hoping that his gut would be proven wrong. He forced himself to take another sip of "coffee," wishing it were something stronger.
"You look tired, Commissioner."
The voice, while feminine, was too light and sultry to be hers. He turned and saw a figure lounging atop the modified searchlight. Her body stretched across it propped up by the arms supporting her from behind, one of her legs was bent while the other dangled in front of the light. Her quick eyes caught him looking at her and she gave something between a smirk and a grin, which made Ethan uncomfortable. She kicked the Bat Signal lightly with her dangling leg before folding it over her other leg. "You can turn this off now."
Ethan moved to do just that. "So the stories are true."
Huntress didn't move. "Why did you call me here?"
The no-nonsense tone was familiar enough. It made Ethan more comfortable, and he felt like he was back on solid ground. "Riddler clue." He turned and saw the woman gracefully jump off what was now her signal. She took it from him and tore into it. That was not familiar. Cassie just took it and went on her merry way. Huntress studied it for a moment before the clue disappeared, though Ethan wasn't sure where to.
She looked at him blue eyes connecting with blue. "She is dead. I thought you should know, and don't worry, I'm probably the only person who knows why you'd care."
The sadness and grief he'd been holding back hit him like a tidal wave, and he took a moment to struggle to contain it. He wasn't surprised to find the other woman gone when he looked up again.
The Riddler hated waiting, but it was really all that was left to do. The encryption program was installed and running, the riddle sent. He briefly wondered if this Huntress was even less of a challenge than Batwoman had been. He sighed. What a depressing thought.
He checked the program's progress again. 82%. He began to rethink this partnership once again. He knew this was just supposed to be a distraction. From what, he was unsure, but a part of him was happy to keep it that way. Suddenly, a Batarang hit his computer, eliminating any progress, and interrupted his thoughts.
He spun quickly to face his foe, but found nothing but empty space. He carefully searched every hidden space to see if he could spot her, and gripped his staff in preparation. He heard a noise from the desk he was previously seated and so he spun back.
The sight that greeted him was a surprising one. There she was, Huntress, pulling her Batarang from the computer, sitting casually upon the desk. He looked her over and voiced his first opinion of her, "You're prettier than Batwoman."
She smirked and jumped lightly from the desk, going towards him. He noticed she walked with more of a hip sway than Batwoman as well. When she stopped a few feet away from him, she stood with one hip cocked out and her chest sticking out. She was very different than Batwoman. When she spoke, her voice dripped with sultry seduction, "I know."
He was so caught up in her; he didn't see the bow staff whipping around towards his face until it connected. Nor did he catch it when she spun it around again to hit his own staff from his now shaky grip. His mind sharply informed him that this woman had just distracted and disabled him within seconds; neither had ever been accomplished by her predecessor.
His mind wasn't allowed time to reflect any further as now he felt a sharp boot in his gut, he finally collected himself enough to catch the leg looking for a second shot at his face. He did not like this new hero. She quickly jerked her leg back from his grasp and stood back, studying him with a detachment that made him feel like a lab rat rather than a man in pain. "Well you certainly have Batwoman's little fists of fury, tell me did you cry much over her death?"
She looked at him carefully. "I cried no more over her death, than you put thought into that riddle."
He felt his eyes widen. "You solved my riddle?"
She looked bored now. "Of course."
A surge of glee coursed through him. Finally, a worthy adversary, someone worth his time and efforts, he could barely contain his joy. "Well, I'll just have to make the next one harder."
He lunged at her, but she skillfully avoided every intended blow. Then with one blocked hit she used the grasp she had on his wrist to spin him around and hold him in her mercy, her other hand resting on his neck. He felt the sharp pain in his wrist at this move and heard the dark voice speaking near his ear, "Just think, one sharp jerk of the neck and I'll have my vengeance for Batwoman."
He laughed slightly, knowing better than to be truly frightened. "Right. You have rules."
Her own dark chuckle answered back and his blood froze. "Who ever said I followed their rules? After all, I have a hard time believing the world is a better place with you in it."
Those words caused a reaction within the Riddler that he hadn't felt in years: fear. He felt the cold sweat build up as she played with the grip she had on his neck. Then just as abruptly, she pulled away and he felt the cool steal of handcuffs on his wrists. "No," she said, "you're not worth it."
Not finding any rope, she used the cords and cables from the surrounding machines to tie him up and leave for the cops. She looked at her handiwork once and then picked up his staff to study. "Funny, I'd thought you'd be a lot more difficult, but you were hardly a challenge at all."
If she hadn't gagged his mouth a roar followed by a long speech would have been his response rather than the muffled protests he managed. She stopped looking at the staff and turned back to him. "I guess that shot was a completely lucky one, as you seem to have no skill at all." He murmured protests again. She walked away, his staff in her hand, even stepping over him as she made her way to the exit.
She smiled to herself as she left, men like that were easy to get revenge on.
This was just embarrassing. He was no longer tied up or gagged, but still, riding handcuffed in the back of a paddy wagon wasn't exactly how he saw this night ending. To make matters worse, the driver seemed to want to make small talk with him. "You didn't do well against my creation."
Riddler's eyes narrowed at the metal grating that separated him from his driver. He recognized that voice. "You created that? Why? How?"
His "partner" chuckled evilly. " I killed her lying parents, exposing her to the truth, so she could become what she truly is, a child of Batman."
What the hell was wrong with this guy? "Why would you do that? If you want to go around killing people, creating the next Batman is kind of counterproductive!"
His driver chuckled again. Jesus, the Riddler thought, I've teamed up with the next fucking Joker. "If I didn't create her, I wouldn't be able to destroy her."
That did it for the Riddler. Nuts. The other man was nuts. Absolutely loony tunes. He knew better then to throw in with the crazies. He had picked his handcuffs by now and stood up in the moving truck, readying the explosive the guard had neglected to take away. "Right. Well, thanks for the lift. I believe this is my stop."
With that he blew off the back doors and tucked and rolled his way to freedom. Dusting himself off he reflected on what the man driving the disappearing wagon said. The Riddler feared all the man had done by creating the next Batman was awakened something best left alone. Then again, that could be his sprained wrist talking.