Now
Gotham City, Maryland
"Wait."
Mona took point, holding up a machinegun, poised to fire at anyone that could be lurking around a corner. Eight feet behind her, Lucy, Kroenen and Lang walked closely by, the latter of which wore a bulletproof vest over her blue jumpsuit, while Priest covered the rear, holding a shotgun in his hands and carrying a bag filled with guns on his back.
"Wait!"
Mona stopped and took a walked backward a few steps, keeping her gun raised, she took a gun out of a holster by her thigh and handed it over to Lang.
"Take it."
"No. I want to know who you are."
Mona turned around and looked at Lang, a look so fiery and intimidating that Lang took the gun with unsure hands.
"We're minutemen."
Without any further explanation, Mona advanced further, turning around the corner and signaling for them to follow her. Lang did not, only moving when being rudely shoved by Priest.
"Hey! Don't touch me!" Lang barked, growing agitated, "What do you mean you're 'Minutemen'? Where are you taking me?"
"We're breaking you out." Said Priest, "You're welcome."
"Breaking me out how?"
"We're winging it." Mona muttered rolling her eyes, firing at a guard with his back turned to her.
"Are you telling me you got here by winging it?"
"No, we had a plan for that." Said Priest, "Good one, too. We came through a cave that connected to Finger River, C4'd our way in from three floors down."
"What? We've been going up! Why wouldn't we just get out the same way?"
"By now they found out about it." Said Mona, gunning down two more guards, "It's got to be crawling with their people, ready for us."
Priest turned around suddenly, firing at a guard that came bursting through a door. He walked backward, brandishing the shotgun as the group of five approached a staircase that would lead to the ground floor.
Outside the sun had started a slow descent, disappearing completely behind the city's skyline. Officers stepped aside as Jim Gordon walked down the street, none of them daring to attempt to stop the police commissioner. Only Detective Bullock, a squat man with a cheap cigar constantly shifting between his hand and his teeth walked up to his side, saying,
"Better leave this to the pros, Jimbo."
Gordon disregarded the advice, and asked,
"Did you hear from Arkham, Harv?"
"Yeah." Said the detective and took a puff, "They're all packed in. The Joker and that chick he's banging that Batman put in the hospital, The Riddler, Dent, Scarecrow… All of them. Needless to say, this ain't their MO. You ask me, I think this is one time that the guys doing it are not the Gothamite variety of sickos. I mean let's not forget who the guy drove it in is."
"This isn't militant terrorism, or we'd all be dead already."
The leader of the bomb disposal had been walking toward Gordon and Detective Bullock the whole time. He'd taken off his protective mask and held it at his side and the three met up in the middle of the street.
"What do we got?" asked Gordon.
"It's… The best I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot." Said the specialist, "There's definitely enough explosives in there to wipe out half the block at least, hooked to a timer that has fifteen more minutes on the clock. It's also hooked up to the van itself, an attempt to open the doors means that it will detonate. We can't break the windows or cut our way in, either, because it's possible that whoever made attached trigger wiring under the matting. We wouldn't know where to cut."
"Do you recognize who might have done something like that?"
"Honestly? Whoever did it must have had some sort of government training."
"That's it, then? There's nothing we can do?"
"I'm sorry, Commissioner. We'll keep trying."
Lucy took off a glove and pressed it against the door at the top of the staircase, closed her eyes and seemed to focus as the others idled by.
"Well?" asked Mona, her patience growing thin.
"We're fucked." Said Lucy as she put her glove back on.
"How many?"
"I don't know, lots, scores. Waiting to gun us down the moment we get out."
"We are fucked." Priest mumbled, "Wanna got out there anyway?"
"Don't feel like it."
"What's the time?"
"Six to six." Said Mona, "The cops are going to be surprised by the van in fifteen minutes. Give me the bag."
"Assuming they haven't deactivated it by now."
"I made it myself," said Mona, taking a grenade and a wire out of the bag, "Believe you me, they won't deactivate it with the time I had given them."
One Hour Earlier
"This feels strange." Said Gordon as he stood by himself at the scene of the crime, hearing the two beat officers outside discussing their plans for an outing that night. Gordon was by himself, but he was not alone. He had cultivated the sense to know when he would be around, lurking in the shadows, though it didn't stopped him from being surprised whenever he first spoke, announcing his presence.
"How so?" growled the Batman as he stepped slightly into the light.
"This is the first time you've ever called me to a scene that I wouldn't have come to otherwise."
Gordon looked at the three chalk outlines on the floor, the blood splatter and numbered cards indicating where the bullet casings had fallen.
"Three dead. Mother and her two sons, late teens. One gunshot to the cranium from what appears to be a thirty-eight. Nothing has been stolen. The father, the prime suspect, is nowhere to be found." Said Gordon, "What am I missing?"
"It's not the father. And this won't be the last."
"What makes you think that?"
"Believe me."
For once, Gordon did not believe the vigilante's words. What was before him looked like nothing more than the insanity any seasoned policeman in Gotham had come to get used to, a tragedy with little consequence.
"You'll have to do a little better than that." Said Gordon as he turned around, seeing no one, realizing he'd departed, leaving him with that slight tinge of annoyance.
Gordon walked out of the crime scene, acknowledging the policemen outside as they got back in. He walked down the stairs, wondering what were the Batman's real motives for calling him to a routine murder scene, making cryptic remarks about the nature of the crime without elaborating, during daytime no less.
Gordon exited the rundown apartment building, finding his driver having a look under the hood of his car.
"What's wrong, Merkel?"
"Sorry, sir, I don't know how this happened." Said Merkel, "The engine is dead."
"Can you fix it?"
"I been trying. Sorry."
"Okay, we'll take one of the squad cars."
"Eh... That's the thing, Sir. We can't, they're dead too. It's hard to believe."
Gordon looked at the two other squad cars at the scene, both engines silent with bewildered police officers standing by. An odd thought crossed Gordon's mind, a ludicrous suspicion that put his encounter with the Batman in a more sinister light, but made more sense of his visit.
"It is hard to believe." Mumbled the commissioner.
Meanwhile
Lieutenant David Cavanaugh was somewhat surprised at the unscheduled visit. He was on the roof by himself, fueling the Gotham City Police chopper, when he found none other than the police commissioner, flanked by two plain clothed police officers, a dark skinned man identified by Gordon as Lieutenant Taib from the Fifty-Fifth precinct and a young blond haired detective from the Forty-Ninth called Gallagher. The three had come for what he described as a surprise inspection, asking to tag along as he took the helicopter up on his patrol over the city.
Waiting several minutes for Sergeant Franks, his partner, who never showed up, the Lieutenant took off by himself, carrying the three policemen with him.
"So, Commissioner," started Cavanaugh, "If you don't mind me asking, how long do you expect this inspection to last?"
"We'll tell you when it's done." Said Gordon, "Just go about your patrol regularly. Tell me, at what point do you fly over downtown?"
"We can go over there straight away, Commissioner."
"That's not necessary."
"Well, It'll be around an hour from now."
"Excellent." Said Gordon with a smile.
Now
Josephine stood by the window, looking down at the street far bellow, at the spectacle surrounding the van parked across the street.
She spoke into the headset fixed to her ear,
"What's the situation on the street?"
"The bomb is ten minutes away from detonating." Diana's voice said.
"And the situation downstairs?"
"Strike team has been poised to attack, but the targets haven't come through. They request permission to go down after the intruders."
"Permission granted."
The strike team gathered around the door, with over thirty assault rifles aimed at the door ready to release a hail of relentless lead. The leader of the strike team stood by the door, motioning for his team to stay back as two others prepared to break down the door with a battering ram.
"We should have gone in a long time ago." Said one of the men at the rear to his partner, "Jesus Christ, there's only four of them."
"They killed Mazzucchelli and Finnerty. I'm going to mowing them down." Said his partner, "Chief. Shoot to kill?"
"What d you think?"
"And the prisoner?"
"Unless she hits the ground and bursts out crying and begs for her life, consider her hostile."
With one swift blow from the battering ram, the door swung open. The three men at the door stood back for a moment before the leader stepped in, brandishing his rifle, calling out,
"Clear!"
The thirty men eagerly followed him through the door, each and every one of them with the exact same thought in mind; Kill.
They were half through the door when the delayed trigger activated and the hidden explosives detonated.
Diana stood nervously in her office, having just talked to one of only four people to survive the explosion downstairs. The situation had escalated dramatically.
Diana nervously put on her headset and pressed the button,
"M- Madam Director?" she said with a stammer.
"Yes?" she heard Josephine calmly say, "Called to tell me about the explosion bellow?"
"It was a trap, madam director. Delayed explosives planted by the entrance that detonated while the strike team was going through."
"Do we have enough people guarding the exit?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good, keep them where they are."
"What should we do to stop them?"
"Nothing."
"Excellent play, miss Sax." Said Priest as he heard the explosions three floors down, crawling through the building's vent system.
"Thanks." Said Mona, "We're almost there."
"With all the noise you people are making, I would have thought the police would have gotten here by now." Said Lang.
"The building is soundproofed." Said Priest.
"Enough to block the sound of an explosion?"
"The building is very thoroughly soundproofed."
"Right."
"We're here." Said Lucy.
"Are you sure?" asked Mona as she stopped crawling.
"Yes. There are eight of them down there."
"Priest?"
"Yeah, Okay. I'll see you down there."
Priest stayed in place and watched while Mona lead the others ahead, once she had stopped, he turned his attention to the grate below him, knocked it off it's hinges with both his fists and swung down from under it.
From where she crouched, Lang could hear the sound of a neck being snapped, of someone being thrown against a wall. A moment after Priest had went down, Mona unlocked the grate bellow her, then dangled her upper body down with a gun in each hand.
There were seven men with their attention turned toward Priest, all but one with their back toward her. She shot that one first, burying a bullet between his eyes, before gunning down the rest in pairs in rapid orders.
With acrobatic grace, Mona swung down from the vent, landing on her feet. She eyed Priest with bewildered intrigued disgust as he fed on a guard's neck, his relish showing clearly in his fluttering eyes.
"Jude. Stop. The woman doesn't know about that charming part of you yet."
Priest fed for another moment before dropping the body, wiping the blood on his jacket's sleeve.
"All-clear."
"Three minutes." Said Bullock, standing by Gordon right behind the cordon and took a swig from a tiny bottle of airline whiskey, "Crap day to be a cop. Not to say there's any other type of days for a cop in Gotham."
Gordon scratched his forehead, watching up the street as the remote-controlled bomb disposal robot sprayed the van with liquid nitrogen in an attempt to delay the explosion.
High above and a few blocks away, a Police Helicopter approached.
"Before you were arrested, you were gathering evidence of corruption relating to Regan McNeil's campaign." said Mona, "These people who kidnapped you are the ones who stand to gain if she is elected."
"And who are you people? Who do the minutemen work for?" asked Lang.
"The opposition." Said Mona as the elevator pinged upon its arrival.
The elevator doors parted, the iron box, bright and sleek, felt like a welcoming sanctuary. Lang was the first to enter, followed by Kroenen.
That was when the shot rang out. The mirror inside the elevator shattered, the shotgun's handle in Priest's hands broke apart and fell to the ground, and Priest's severed fingers flew off of his hand, turning to ash before they hit the ground.
Mona took no time to react. She pushed Lucy in with one hand, while the other reached into her holster for a gun as she turned around, all in a split second. And then the second shot rang out.
Blood splattered onto Lang's face as Mona fell into the elevator, her hand gripping her holstered gun, bleeding from the shoulder from a spot under a small gap in her Kevlar. Unbridled horror filled Lang and Lucy heart as they watched .
Priest gripped his hand, wondering why it hurt so badly, why unlike any bullet he'd taken today, this one burned like the fires of hell.
He looked up to see someone standing up the hall, a tall feminine figure holding up a silver revolver. Priest got up to his knees, standing in the elevator's opening.
He kicked the bag of guns and explosives into the elevator before the third shot was fired. 'Not the heart' Priest thought to himself as abruptly straightened up as well as he could, hitting the elevator button.
The bullet hit him in the stomach. He cried out in pain and anger as crouched.
"You!" Priest growled as he reached for what remained of his shotgun.
Josephine smirked with grim satisfaction as she took two steps closer, aiming carefully while the elevator doors closed, when all of a sudden Priest mustered the speed and strength to hurl the damaged weapon at her.
She ducked out of the way and allowed the shotgun to miss her before attempting to take aim. It cost her half a second that would prove to be decisive. Priest was coming straight at her, running with increasing speed.
Josephine pulled the trigger. Priest felt the bullet passing through his thigh, and it burned as much as the other two. Those were not just any bullets she was shooting him with, they were silver bullets, and they hurt more than a normal bullet would hurt a normal man.
It also drove him blind with rage and a lust for violence more than any bullet could to anyone.
Mina never much preferred to use guns, despite having been trained in marksmanship to considerable skill by Tom Sawyer in the years they spent together following Henry's demise. She was never too good with a fast moving target. She took aim for a fourth and fired.
Priest evaded the bullet completely, moving toward the wall and kicking it, flipping through the air as he continued his dash.
"I know your name, you bitch! I know your name!"
That was when Mina remembered what it was to panic. For a split second, she entertained the thought that she might have underestimated the intruders before she let the thought go and focused on stopping Priest. In one last desperate attempt Mona fired her last bullet with Priest right in front of her. It had to stop him. It had to.
Priest felt the bullet burn its way through his bone and flesh, shooting out of his back, missing his heart with half an inch.
Mina instinctively pulled the trigger as Priest slammed into her, burying his shoulder into her chest, surrounding her with his arms and lifting her with painful speed off the ground, carrying her with him as he crossed a few dozen feet before crashing through a wall-high window.
Next Chapter
Splat.
R&R.