220. A Hard Act to Follow part 5
November 29, 2004.
The City.
Titan's Tower
11:01 am
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Raven sat on the edge of her bed, hugging herself. Rocking gently forward and back with her eyes gazed on the floor amidst the extinguished circle of candles. Her face was straight, but her eyes were round. She breathed gently…desperately quick…
"………"
Cyborg walked into view. He handed her a hot, home-brewed cup of tea.
She took it with a shaking hand. The cup rattled with the saucer some before she smoothly brought the quaff to her lips and sipped.
Relaxing……..
Cyborg knelt by her beside and leaned his half-metal head to the side. "So….you gonna tell me about the vision you had while meditating? Or am I just gonna have to worry about why you're doing a blender impression all day?"
Raven finished sipping. She rested the cup and saucer on her thigh before emitting a shuddering exhale. "……," she raised her eyes and looked Cyborg's way. She opened her lips but took time to quietly, lowly mumble: "It was more than your average meditation," she said. "I was…..I was reaching back into someone else's mind."
"Someone else's mind?" Cyborg raised an eyebrow.
"There are parts of me that are….how should I say…..telepathic?" Raven blinked at him. She seemed somewhat calmer. She mouthed: "On seldom occasions, circumstances force me to become more….'intimately' involved in a person's psyche than from simple empathic reflections. Usually such circumstances involve collision with my soul self when I'm venturing along the astral plane or a communion of brain waves or….."
"That time when Mumbo split your personalities apart….," Cyborg pointed. "You had a telepathic relationship to us then, didn't you?"
Raven nodded. "When my personalities were 'spread' among you and the rest of the Titans, they scooped up a piece of each and every one of you before returning back to me. I couldn't shake off what I took from your minds even if I tried. That's how I got visions that made me doubt Noir just before Slade's last venture. Among other things….."
"……….."
"………..," Raven sighed. She absent-mindedly stroked the top lid of the teacup. "I went back and I explored the psyche fractions I received from two of my teammates. Robin….and Noir…."
"Uh huh…..," Cyborg leaned forward. "And what did you see?"
Raven ran a hand up against her forehead. She closed her eyes….and sighed……
"………."
Raven opened her eyes and gazed numbly towards the wall stretching before her. "It was…hard to see much. The emotion was so sharp. So hot….boiling…..," she hugged her far shoulder. Sighed. And uttered: "Trigon has forever polluted the traces of Noir in my head because of the rage that consumed him when I was 'scattered'. And Robin was always so….so very complex. It was hard to make heads or tails out of him in the real world, much less the mental….."
"………"
Raven glanced aside at Cyborg. "I'm not sure what to think at this point. Only that….there is something very, very dangerous still at work in this continent. Something cold and….and Destructive. I think it very well sings of the warnings the Messenger gave us. And…..And it's related to Triangular, Cyborg. Somehow….what ever sparked the November Fourth catastrophe here is still alive and ticking and ravenous……."
"I'd say it was pretty dark ominous!" Cyborg rubbed the human part of his head.
Raven gave him a sideways glance. "Huh?"
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You would have been practically shivering into a little shrunken ball in the corner of your room had I not gotten here earlier when I heard you scream! I don't think I've ever seen you so scared before, Rae. Mortuana's holiday stay included…."
Raven glanced back down at her hands. The fingers still twitched and shook against the saucer lid. She bit her lip and 'absorbed' herself into Cyborg's gentle touch. "I don't believe…..I-I don't believe that Noir is as bad as everyone in the public is thinking he is, Victor…."
Cyborg chuckled. "Heh heh heh. If it's Noir we're talking about, I know you don't think he's guilty, cutie."
She took a deep breath. "There are…..far darker things at play right now. Things to be more concerned about than Noir's endless, melodramatic search for……whatever it is that he searches for."
"Now there's something to perplex even a telepath!"
"Yes…..I suppose…"
"Heheheheheh…."
"………………," Raven again took a deep breath.
Silence….
"Rae?"
"Yes, Cyborg?"
"When I first came in here and found you on the floor….you said someone was alive…."
"Uh huh…."
"Someone in your vision."
"Yes…."
"Who is it, Raven?"
"………"
"Who's 'alive'?"
"……..," Raven gazed at him through the corners of her eyes. She spoke: "Cyborg…..if something dangerous was to happen to any one member of our team and you knew about it….you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
"Why….yes! Of course, Raven…," Cyborg leaned forward. "You can trust me. I know I've made some goofups as of late….but…..you can trust me."
"………….," Raven swallowed. She opened her mouth. She hesitated.
"…………," Cyborg stared at her. Quiet. Silent. Patient.
A pause.
"It's Dagger…," Raven lied.
Cyborg raised a human eyebrow. "Dagger?"
"Yes…."
"I didn't know he died to begin with!"
"It's a vision," Raven shrugged. "I can't explain every bit of it."
"But of course…."
"I think it just means that….Dagger is still around. Wh-Whether we see him or not," she again concocted.
Cyborg half-stood. "Want me to run a scan of the City? Do you think Dagger may be secretly somewhere trying to….?"
"N-No…please….," she pulled him back down. She tried to say something, fidgeted, but then just leaned her petite body lightly against his frame.
Cyborg blinked. A little confused. A little warmed….
"I….I think one thing I've learned from you….," her lips curved ever so gently. "….is that I should learn to just rest instead of running around with my head cut off. I'm not the same paranoid, morose girl I used to be. At least…I don't think so…."
Cyborg playfully shrugged and gently stroked the incessant blue strand out from her right temple. "Works well in my book. I'm here, Raven…..you don't need to be afraid."
"Hmmmmm….," she leaned against him. But where he couldn't see, her half-smile left and a pale look of hopelessness and alienation washed over her face like a moonbeam. She almost dropped the saucer.
Cyborg held a gentle arm around her and remarked with eyes towards the ceiling. "Fear….it's such a trivial thing…."
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Gotham City.
Zeppelin Inner frame.
11: 11 am
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Nnnngh!
No……
NOOOO!
I hobbled backwards, shaking my head desperately. Panting. Quivering all over.
Robin limped towards me down the aisle of metal lattices in the belly of the blimp. His flesh hanging off him in ribbons of burnt brown and red. He drooled bloody saliva as he leered at me and hissed: "You could have run faster, Jordan. You could have gotten to the Radioactive Depository in time to save me! You've defeated Cinderblock……killed Slade……fought the underworld of Las Vegas……and taken on Superman himself in your own personal vendetta, but you couldn't have spared a single smoking second to be there in time to save me?"
I gritted my teeth.
Panting.
Sweating.
No…N-No……
I scrunched back against a metal pylon besides Man-Bat's unconscious body. My metal and flesh fingers tensed and my bladder thanked its lucky stars that it hadn't been fed any liquids for nearly twelve hours.
Robin is dead.
Robin is DEAD!
You're just……You're just……
I clenched my black eyes shut. I squealed mutely. A pulse. Two pulses.
"……"
I reopened my optics.
Through the shades, I saw a flicker of a thin, gangly figure. A pale thing with Scarecrow's hat, Scarecrow's tattered cloak, Scarecrow's ropelike 'noose', and Scarecrow's pixel-eyed 'skull'. But that all too quickly dissolved into a dream…replaced by Robin's melting face as the zombified Titan gripped my neck with burnt finger bones and hoisted me up.
I wheezed…struggling for breath. Overcome with two scents. Robin and burning flesh.
"You're the worst thing that ever happened to the Titans……," Robin stepped towards me, seething. He had a melted sort of half-grin. "You abandoned the team! The team that needs you! The team that I spent my LIFE trying to uphold!"
I panted.
Cold sweat.
I eyed Myrkblade on the floor far beyond.
It seemed to grow thorns and tiny spider fangs in plain sight.
I hugged my right hand to my chest.
"You're a shame to me, Jordan……"
I flinched at that.
"You're a SHAME to me!" and he charged on rotting feet.
I mentally screamed and dove for my blade.
THWACK!
Robin's splintery bo-staff flew across my scarred cheek.
I twirled from the impact and collapsed against a metal lattice. Panting.
Ana walked towards me. Choral billowing bright steam. She frowned and hissed: "You know what I've always hated about you, Jordan? You're so selfish. Even when you gave a limb for the Titans, you were only thinking about how to clear your name! What else could you've been trying to achieve?"
I shuddered.
I looked down at my metal prosthetic.
Blood and pulp was oozing out of the titanium joints.
I wetly clenched my metal fingers and felt the snapping of tendons and muscles. Ripping.
I screamed breathily and rolled off the latticework and down onto the floor.
Ana loomed above me. She raised her ivory, steaming sword. "You really are a selfish prick, aren't you? The only way you'd ever truly save the Titans is by ENDING YOURSELF, Jordan!" THWIIISH!
I gasped and rolled out of the way of the strong, earthen sword.
White foam splashed behind me.
I leapt up dizzily to my feet and spun around.
GRIP!
Supergirl's steel-grip clutched tightly around my throat. She forced me back against the metal wall of the interior and cut off my oxygen.
I wheezed and gagged….
Fingers flexing helplessly….
Her blue eyes burned a heat ray red. "You attacked Clark….you hit Diana….you threatened the League…..and frightened hundreds of citizens." I felt a melting heat consume me. "Just what part of you in this exodus is left to be called 'heroic', Jordan?"
"…..," I shook. Strained.
"Worst of all….," Kara sneered and started to crush my scarred throat. "You killed my ability to fly. You sucked every ounce of joy in my life away, Jordan. You and your silent indifference……the worst fate I could ever have is to turn into you, and I have NOIR to thank for it!"
THWOMP! I was tossed against the latticework.
I slumped to the ground.
Numb.
Twitching.
Raven stood before me. Glaring. Her eyes glowed a hot white as she extended her graceful wrists towards me and discharged a black field of energy. "And I never want to hear you breathe again……"
FLAAASH!
Aaaaaaaaaaugh!
Somewhere.
In the darkest corners of the zeppelin's belly….
A brown skull's jaw curved….
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Below the circling Zeppelin in the city streets of Gotham, police barricades shoved a growingly perplexed and panicky crowd of citizens back. Among them was an incredibly angry and incredibly verbal Veronica Vreeland. Three officers with their combined efforts had to drag the rich heiress away from shaking her fist at the rogue airship with her namesake.
The barricaded once though, to make way for a line of three squad cars to rush up to the scene. Retro-style police vehicles with swirling lights and screeching tires. All three came to a swift stop alongside the Kane building beneath the shadow of the blimp.
The middle car opened up, and two people stepped out. One, a mountainous guerilla of a human being with almost more obesity than a sidewalk could handle. Two, a thin and hard-lined woman with tan features and glaring eyes. They were both detectives, and they were both staring up at the levitating scene.
"Whew….," the obese officer whistled. "I guess the Hindenburg had a bastard child! Heh….," he glanced over at his partner and smirked. "Where's Jimmy Paige when ya need him?"
"…..," the woman glared at him. She glanced over at the first car.
The side door opened, and Commissioner Gordon stepped out. Gray hair, gun holster, and badge. Everything about him stood in a frame of pretend frailty, wrapped about by a large brown coat. He took one spectacled look at the zeppelin and sighed: "Every bad egg takes to the skies these days…"
The two detectives marched over.
"We have six square blocks cleared away surrounding the Kane building, Commissioner," the woman said.
"Better make it ten, Montoya. Has there been a ransom broadcast of some sort?"
"Indeed we have, Commish," Detective Bullock stroked his two chins and frowned. "Turns out these are your typical, egotistical clowns! Only this time…a whole nest of them!"
"So far, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Bane have been identified," Montoya gestured. "They were all on a broadcast sent across the City earlier…presumably from the airship. It turns out that they have Lucius Fox's missing son William as a hostage."
"Now if that isn't the strangest combination of fiends I've heard of yet….," Gorgon ran a hand through his gray hair. "We've known those two femme fatales to work with the metaphysical likes of Livewire….but Bane?"
"I don't think them punks are alone!" Bullock barked. "There's a certain clown about all of this! I can smell it!"
"Not the Joker's style," Gordon shook his head. "We would have seen his smiling face by now if he was behind the ransom."
"We've looked over the broadcast a few times since we recorded it," Montoya said. "It's not exactly a clear message. In fact, I don't think the kidnappers are attempting to speak to us at all! More than likely, they're attempting to contact some other group in Gotham besides the police force!"
"They made some references to…ehh….'Triangular' or some crazy duckshit!" Bullock said. "God, how I hate conspiracies! They're like hemorrhoids only with nasty teeth!"
"It doesn't sound comforting one bit…," Gordon said. "We could very well be dealing with a criminal gang war taking place in our skies. And it is absolutely the WORST time for Batman to be on hiatus!"
Montoya's chocolate eyes widened: "You mean you still haven't heard from him, Commissioner?"
"Ehhh…," Bullock shrugged. "Batman, Shmatman! The boys and I have got this one covered!" he pointed at an assembling SWAT team jumping out of a parked truck that was suddenly there behind him. "We'll give those two girl scouts from Hell and Frito Bandito a message! And if they or any criminals they're talking to try to show a little too much smartass lip, we'll give 'em some smartass lead!"
"Don't push it, Bullock!" Gordon pointed. "For all we know, those maniacs might not be flying that thing up there on helium! What if they have hydrogen or some sort of toxic gas mixture pumped into that thing?"
"We must think of William B. Fox above all else!" Montoya said. "The loss of his son would be crippling to Lucius Fox….and it would inevitably strike a heavy blow to all of the Wayne Corporation! Think of the impact such would have on this City!"
"I'm more worried about the sky right now…to be honest….," Bullock blinked. He was gazing upward.
"What was that?" Gordon asked.
Bullock whipped out a toothpick and chewed on it while pointing with his other finger. "Those choppers up there….ain't they our birds?"
Montoya and Gordon gazed up at the circling aircraft. The four helicopters buzzed around the center where the airship hung.
"I don't remember calling for air support," Bullock scratched his scraggily black hair under his detective's hat. He glanced over. "Any of yous?"
"……….," Gordon's eyes thinned. "What the devil?"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Forty-Five minutes…and counting….," Clock King gazed at his watch and grinned.
Bane stomped over, teeth clenched. "Will you stop….doing….that…..por favor?"
The old man blinked up at him. "Eh? What is your problem, my good fellow?"
"That incessant countdown es absurdo and fills me with the urge to smash something…," he leaned forward and growled: "Inside a big, bloated airship where smashing things is una idea muy estupida!"
Clock King leaned back. Blinking. "One angry language at a time, please…."
"Yeah!" Harley grinned from a lofty windowsill where she playfully squat with knees bouncing. "Chill out, rubber head! Don't get your enchiladas in a twist!" She jumped down and girl-stepped towards Bane. "We got it all over this City…AND Triforce!"
"Triangular….," Ivy rolled her eyes from the side.
"Eh, whatever. I never did pay attention in Geomitron Class," the clown girl waved. Then she cutely snarled: "Lousy, stinkin' rotten teacher used the slapping stick like a fifth limb!"
"My my, Harley….," Ivy smiled and said: "You went to a Catholic school?"
"Yeah….," Harley winked. "But after I grew up and met Mister J, I dropped by the 'ol grounds and dropped a Smiling Bomb in the Communion Chapel! KABOOM! Heh…bet they're all Christian scientists now!"
"We should never have chosen to abide by this pathetic 'execution drop' appointment," Bane folded his arms and glared the Clock King's way. "The longer we wait out, the more we'll collect the police on our backsides…"
"Correction, my masked comrade…," Clock King twirled his cane and saluted. "The longer we wait, the more Triangular will pour out of the woodwork and expose themselves! Dr. Crane's handiwork will immobilize them, and all of Gotham City will stare at them in the moment of defeat! And how can they possibly resist so tempting a bait as that worthless pile of meat we're going to toss over the side in….oh…..forty-three minutes and twenty-eight seconds….
"STOP IT!" Bane shook.
"Ahem….," William B. Fox simpered from where he sat tied to the chair in the back of the pilot's compartment. "As much as I enjoy sitting around and listening to you guys discuss my inevitable death and all, maybe now would be a good time for me to either ramble on like a total and complete fool—which I'm not, it's only in fashion to be so these days—or perhaps I can endeavor to sweet talk you all with the only delectable, criminal sugar available to this metaphorical Ragnorak of the underground we have festering before us."
"Uh…….huh?" Harley blinked.
Clock King gestured: "He wishes to negotiate on Triangular's behalf."
"Ohhhhhhhh….well isn't that smexxy?"
"Let him waste his breath," Bane hissed.
Clock King chuckled once. "Agreed…."
"Hold on a second….," Poison Ivy strolled over, a hand planted into her lip. "Why don't we question him while he's here?"
"What?" Bane blinked under his mask.
"My lady…have you gone mad?" Clock King gestured. "We're here to stick it to Triangular! Not talk over tea and crumpets!"
"Boys….Boys!" Ivy smiled warmly. Her voice dripped: "Be nice to the poor young hostage." She faced Fox and sexily traced his chest and chin with a black gloved hand. "After all, he's far too handsome and smart and…..rich to be in a situation like this. What a pity….you poor thing…."
"Uhm….," Fox simpered. "Is it suddenly hot in here? Or am I the only one erect?"
"Poor widdle Foxxy woxxy….," Ivy leaned her puffy lips towards his cheek. "You're scared….aren't you?"
"Uhm….sure, lady. Very scared. I've never been this scared since I bought out a million dollar shares of Victoria's Secrets using my dad's stocks just so I could get a catalogue every week!"
"Shhhh….," Ivy pressed a finger to his mouth and cooed: "Let's not think on the past." A womany, warm breath. "Let's think on the present."
"Oh! I do that all the time! I'll let you know that I…Mmmmfmmmfmmmfffff!"
Ivy kissed him dead-on.
Clock King averted his eyes.
Bane muttered something.
Twenty sultry seconds later, Ivy removed her lips.
Fox blinked….blinked….then dazedly groaned with his head tilted forward. Drooling…… "Nnnngh…."
"Yeesh, Red…," Harley faked wretching. "It really creeps me out every time ya do that!"
Ivy stood up straight and fluffed her red hair. "The toxin should take over in less than ten seconds. He should be able to tell us anything and everything we ask of him."
"An interrogation serum….," Clock King leaned on his cane and smirked. "Ingenious."
"Will it actually work?" Bane asked.
"Of course," Ivy leaned on her hip. "It's how I get Harley to tell me where she's been hiding my garden gloves."
"……….," the men stared at her.
Ivy rolled her green eyes. "Oh for Demeter's sake…" She frowned and cackled: "I put it in her breakfast cereal!"
"Ohhhhh…."
"But don't those silly bloated gloves make great 'cow udders' when you fill them with milk, Red?" Harley beamed. "'Moooo! I'm a big cow! Moooo! I just set fire to Chicago by kicking over a lantern that some bloated dumb blonde left in the barn! Mooo! Mooo!'"
"Muchachas…," Bane shook his head. "Que terrible…"
Ivy glanced over. "What was that?"
"Hrmmm….," came a distressed hum from the computer console on the far side.
The other members of the Troupe glanced away from the dazed and intoxicated Fox.
"Oye…Hatter…," Bane stepped over. "Que es?"
The short, pale villain clutched his green top hat to his head and shut his eyes in concentration as the device broadcasted his mind control abroad. "There seems to have been a trouble with my faithful birds. A piercing entrance into our flying fortress which none of us heard."
"There's an intruder?" Clock King gasped. "Where?"
"Inside the belly of our beast….," Mad Hatter opened his eyes and smiled. "But I do believe he's become the Scarecrow's feast."
"I don't like the smell of this…," Bane mumbled.
"I'll check it out!" Harley bounced. "Besides…stick figure Crane must be lonely!" She skipped off down a metal corridor. "You know hard it is to make him laugh!"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
THWACK!
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Dr. Joseph Crane cackled as he kicked me in the side.
My body went sprawling limply across the lattice work….even further from the gently resting Myrkblade.
"What is it that you see, 'brave' Titan?" the pale, tattered figure sneered down at me. His skull (face? mask?) at a twisted angle. "What is it that you hear? For someone as dark as you….I am so very….very tempted to find out."
I struggled. I crawled slowly on four limbs….
He took a hissing breath, twisted his frail body about, and struck me hard in the ribs with his splintery staff.
THWACK!
I curled over.
Coughing.
Wheezing….
"The frightening 'heroes' among us quadruple in numbers…..," the Scarecrow hissed. He lowered his staff and stood tall and menacing above me in the zeppelin's interior. "Those with shady pasts….scary powers….and wicked mean streaks…..they rise in greater and greater numbers each day. You are but a taste of a somber tilt to the Balance of thingsssssss……I wonder what the Parasite seeks in you that he foregoes in all of us."
I panted….panted….panted….
I looked up towards him.
Eyes thin.
Refocusing.
Black…..
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"He's coming for you, Jordan……," Dagger said while twirling a blade. He stood over me inside the zeppelin. Eyes endlessly cold and emotionless. "……he will tear you apart. But it will be quick for you. When Red Aviary then goes to take out Terra and the rest of the Titans……THEN it will be slow. THEN it will be torturous. And what's worse……you won't be there to protect them……"
I shuddered.
I gulped.
Sweating, I looked over towards Myrkblade.
I saw the strange, shirtless figure of a scientist in a labcoat.
Man-Bat's vicious mutagen had worn off and Dr. Langstrom had 'returned'…..although still unconscious.
But I couldn't help but breathe in sudden confusion and…yes…mixed hope…
Why does he not scare me?
While……
THWOMP!
A foot kicked me hard in the side.
I winced all over and rolled across the metal floor.
I looked up, panting.
Hull marched over. He pointed with an angry, silver finger. "You are a pointless organism, Jordan. How could ever……EVER think that the universe and all that moves and breathes in it could be saved by someone as pathetic and insignificantly small as you? You might be able to interrogate Clark Kent, take down a Harrier Jet, and piss off Triangular……but you cannot move mountains! And you cannot bring Robin back from the dead! And you cannot……escape……DEATH!"
Hull leapt up, whipped out Bluescythe, and cut through the air down at me.
"RAAAAUGH!"
SHVVVVVVVV!
I dove out of the way.
I felt a searing pain through my ankle where he cut me.
I rolled halfway towards Myrkblade and was compelled to grip my leg.
I winced all over before pantingly lifting my fingers and looking at my flesh and metal palms.
Blood draped across them. Blood that shifted and lifted up into dancing vapors of cold, cold red.
I gasped. Shivering.
The red vapors pulsed and flew into my face. And I caught a breath of hallways filled with bleeding bodies and spilled guts. And the hallways spread out so that they were no longer the Alpha Laboratories of Lexcorp, but rather a rusted metal platform forming a ring of mutilation around me with the shadow of someone's high-pitched laughter throbbing in the distance.
A familiar echo.
I hyperventilated.
No……
Please……N-No……
None of this is real.
My mind……
It is fighting against me.
I'm being torn apart from the top down like with a butter knife……
I clutched my skull through long locks of black hair and hissed painfully through clenched teeth.
"This is where it ends, Jordan……"
I panted.
I looked up.
Eyes watering.
The Messenger marched towards me. Wearing all black. His green goggles hung around his neck and a tranquilizer positioned itself in his hand, aiming towards me with acid-tipped needles.
"Right where you began……," he snarled.
No……please……
He stood on the metal rust. The blood boiled. The dismembered bodies curled and moaned. A skeleton flashed in the corner besides a man twirling a knife.
"Full…Circle……"
No!
And he fired.
THWIIFT!
TH-THUNK!
AAAAARGHHH!
T-T-T-T-T-T-
My body convulsed all over as if being dealt with by electrical shocks.
I hyperventilated, coughed, sputtered, and all but melted into the metal floor.
I hiccupped like a baby as tears trickled down and coated plates of the lattice work.
And above me, Scarecrow hissed. A half-attempt at laughter. He stood over me again and raised his staff above my shoulder blades.
"Panic…boy….," he murmured. Cold and vibrating. "It's called mortality."
SWOOOSH!
THWACK!
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Form a perimeter!" Bullock shouted to the SWAT teams in the City Streets. "I want guns posted on either side of this building! If this is where that blasted blimp's gonna float around forever! Then this is where it'll fall if it needs to!"
Squad leaders nodded, turned, and shouted to their subordinates.
SWAT members filed off towards the far side of the street.
Bullock strolled over towards a string of squad cars behind the barricades and flicked his toothpick into a nearby gutter. "Hey Renee….any news on what those choppers are doin' up there?"
Montoya walked over, snapping a cell phone shut. "It's beyond me, Harvey. Gordon didn't order any of our men in the air! Neither did we!"
"Yeah…I know…something's screwy…," Bullock scratched the back of his thick head. "Give a shout out to HQ. See if somebody gave a bogus communication by accident or somethin'!"
"Don't bother," Gordon said.
The two looked over.
He marched up with two other police officers and a bruised, drowsy helicopter pilot.
"We've just got word from all around the departments!" the Commissioner gestured. "This here is Graham Smith. He's a pilot from our South District Department!"
"I-I-I can't explain it….," the man shook and winced. The officers behind steadied him. "My buddy and I were just working on the chopper for the next emergency when suddenly he clobbers me from behind with a wrench! When I started to come to, he was already taking off with the helicopter and heading here! I swear….it's like he was possessed or something!"
Montoya gasped. "Possessed!"
Bullock gulped.
Gordon folded his arms and frowned. "You know what that means….."
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Hmmmm….," the Mad Hatter smiled. He turned his head somewhat and gazed at the others as he said: "Curiouser and curiouser boils the kettle. The City grows ready to test our medal!"
"Gordon's not the kind of person to do anything desperate," Clock King huffed.
"Yes…but the two-bit morons who work for him are," Ivy said.
"………..," Clock King glanced aside.
Bane was silent. He looked at Fox as the young heir started to gurgle and grin. He then looked at Mad Hatter and nodded. "Let the birds feast….un poco…."
Mad Hatter grinned toothily and rubbed his gloved hands together. "Ah…joyous! Off with their heads…." And he twisted his head about and adjusted the dials on the electronic computer console.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
In one of the four hovering, circling helicopters…
A pilot gripped firmly the controls. His body stood straight and rigid. His face was deadpan…emotionless….robotlike.
There was a flickering of light. A buzzing noise. The computer chip behind his ear flashed and strobed.
The man's irises dilated.
"………."
A slight hum escaped the pilot's throat beneath the beating mayhem of the helicopter blades.
He gently pushed at the controls and angled the helicopter downwards and in the direction of the streets looming beneath the rotating blimp.
In loud, nightmarish coordination….the three helicopters rotating cyclonically about the Kane building dove down and joined the first bird's side.
All four made a mind-controlled sweep of the City Blocks.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"What do you mean you can't make contact with the choppers?" Bullock squawked into a squad car radio while Montoya stood beside him. "We have them things installed inside every bird! If all else fails, we could at least morse code those turncoats freakin' ears off!"
Montoya gazed up.
Her eyes widened.
She tapped Bullock's heavyset shoulder and murmured: "Uhm….Harvey…."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" he continue to shout into the radio. "I've got Goodyear's evil twin hanging overhead and fifty expert marksman with itchy trigger fingers trained in on the bigass balloon!"
"Harvey!"
Swish…Swish…Swish…Swish…
"Eh…hang on, H.Q.," Bullock tapped the mic. "I think there's some interference…"
Montoya tried shaking him. "Look up in the sky, stupid!"
So he did. And he gasped. "Jumping Joan of Frickin' Ass!"
SwishSwishSwishSwishSwish! The helicopters swarmed down in a line. A compartment opened in the bottom of each, exposing a minigun….loaded…spinning…
From the sidelines, Commissioner Gordon was already jumping into an alley with two other cops. He shouted to the detectives. "Montoya! Bullock! DUCK!"
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
P-P-P-PING!
Bulletholes and potholes swum through the cars and asphalt towards the pair.
Bullock yanked Montoya and dove behind a barricade.
CL-CL-CLANG!
Bullets ricocheted off of lampposts, fire hydrants, and barricades all around them.
SWOOOSH!
SW-SWOOOSH!
SWOOOOOOOOOOSH!
The air heated and shook from the speeding aircraft. They blazed through, kicking up air and dust. Echoing across the street as they spun around, skimmed the tops of other squad cars, and resumed firing. Police vans exploded. Glass buildingfronts shattered. Cops and SWAT Team members and city workers alike ran every which way and dove comically behind newspaper stands, hedges, and low walls to avoid the bullet spray.
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Beneath the streets where the helicopters thundered, the spacious City sewers of Gotham stretched into the gathering darkness.
The broad tunnels lapped and rolled with grimy, shadowed rivers.
A beacon flashed….flickered…and grew in brightness. A motorboat full of thugs throttled slowly into position besides a platform where a metal ladder lead to a manhole cover above.
Standing at the bow of the motorboat was Mr. Trent from the Gothe Nightclub. He looked disgruntled. Angry. Vengeful. He lead the advance with a waving hand. He turned his neck and shook his arm over the dozen heads of thugs armed with Tommy guns.
Two more boats full of Triangular's nastiest Gothamites crested into view on the underwater stream. About fifty gunmen total came by Trent's beckoning.
The man held a fist up.
The three boats slowed down besides the metal ladder.
Trent took a deep breath. He and the others bore witness to the dull shakes of exploding police cars and machine gun impacts above the concrete ceiling above them.
"……….," Trent then looked into the water. "You gonna come up or what?"
SPLOOSH! Killer Croc surfaced in the sewer water. He turned and glared a pale, bony frown at the 'subordinate' ring leader. "Better thank your lucky stars I know my way around this place!"
"This has been a long, smelly frying pan," Trent said. He pointed up at the manhole and towards the gun battle noise. "That had better not be the fire."
Splash! Killer Croc jumped up onto the brick platform and walked to the metal ladder. "Bane and company just gave Triangular an invitation. Well, Two-Face thanks we should meet them for tea head-on. And more than that…we'll come bearing gifts…"
A good half of the thugs subconsciously nodded and cocked their Tommy Guns.
Trent sighed: "This is the making of a really ugly trap…."
"Or a good meal at the end of the day….," Croc licked his mutated lips. "Wait here….I'll get a gander…."
And he climbed the ladder up to the manhole….
T-T-T-T-T-T-
SWOOOOOOSH!
The helicopters climbed to the top level of the Hampton Building positioned across from the Kane.
The rotary blades of the 'birds' sliced the air and lifted them up just to dive down for a second machine-gun-spitting spin.
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The beating sounds of the blades and ensuing explosions grew more and more distant in their cacophony.
Silence……..
A stairwell door opened on the Hampton rooftop.
Mugsy peered out, pistol in hand.
He glanced left.
"……."
He glanced right.
"……"
He glanced up.
The zeppelin loomed a mere ten stories higher from where they were.
Mugsy exhaled. He rushed out onto the rooftop, whistled gently, and motioned behind him.
Rhino tip-toed out behind him. He had a bazooka and a bundle of rockets in his grasp.
Mugsy found a perfect spot on the edge of the roof. He propped up a metal brace.
Mugsy planted the bazooka on it like a mounted rocket launcher. He positioned the spare rockets behind them.
"Remember….," Mugsy whispered. "We don't take down the target until the other three groups are in position. We're depending on Croc and Dent as much as they're depending on us…"
"Uhhh….why are you whispering?"
"…………er….did you hear a thing I said?"
A voice barked from the shadow of the interior stairwell: "Just what are you blockheads doin' loafing about? Get them rockets ready or we'll be tossing your sorry flamin' butts at the huge helium bag instead!"
Mugsy and Rhino winced.
"Y-Yes, Boss!"
"Sorry Boss!"
They swiftly went about their task.
A short, thin shadow stood in the doorway. His arms were propped up, and a voice came from within the space of his torso….or at least…someone within that space.
"We better pull through for Triangular or else Triangular will be pulling our limbs off! You like to get a new stretch on living, boys?"
"N-No, Boss…."
"Then start cracking! Sheesh……I swear da only thing you two are good for iz donating carbon dioxide 'n methane to da atmosphere!"
"Wow, sir. That was a very intelligent analogy you just made……"
"Did I ask yous for a frickin' commentary, dummy?"
"N-N-No, sir!"
"Then keep your trap shut! Sheesh! How am I to talk with your lips movin' half the time?"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Clink! CREEEAK!
A metal door yawned thinly open
Harley Quinn peered through.
She blinked….then grinned wide.
I was twitching on the floor still. Scarecrow intermittently and viciously hit me with a foot or his staff or a fist. I was bruised and bleeding and coughing my way across the floor. Totally powerless.
"Now here's a laugh if I ever saw one!" Quinn stepped over and planted her hands on her hips. "I gotta be frank, Crane. You've got that kid positively floored!"
Scarecrow spun and snapped in a sharp, dagger-cold voice at Quinn from beneath his shaded hat. "Quiet, you! I am experimenting!"
"No….you're supposed to be tellin' us when so much as a fly gets in this here zeppelin that's not supposed to! We're kinda short on spiders, ya know? And I don't think Charlotte's selling herself. She's got all eight legs in a nunnery since that damn pig showed her a thing or two about men." She tip-toed into the center of the row of metal lattice work and spotted Langstrom lying on the floor. "Hey!" She pointed. "Ain't that the werewolf bat guy? What's he doing here?"
"For the last time….," Scarecrow shook. "Leave! I have this intruder MORE than handled!"
"Hrmphhh! I'm telllllllling on youuuuuu!" Harley giggled and danced insanely. She clapped her hands and grinned. "You've been a bad scarecrow! No brain for you!"
"Nnnnnrghhh….," the brown mouth of the 'skull' clattered. Crane reached a pale hand into his cloak and fingered a vial of red fear gas. "Don't tempt me, you brainless wench…."
"Whatcha gonna do? Suffocate me with some of your fear-fart?" Quinn stuck her tongue out and did a raspberry. "The only think I'm afraid of is eating fish! I'll have you know that I'm a former psychiatrist and I know what to do if I hallucinate a giant walking mackerel! Just count to three and…"
BONK!
Scarecrow conked her on the head with his staff.
"Owwwwieeee….," Harley rubbed her jester-hat-laden head and pouted. "….you're a big meanie!"
"And you won't stop talking!"
"Oh yeah?"
"……."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
I was curled up.
Lying in darkness.
Or so I thought….
I couldn't stop trembling.
I couldn't.
I felt like I was lying prostrate on a rock in the middle of a field of tall grass.
A familiar feeling.
Cold winds.
Cold breaths.
Like metal.
"…….."
Metal floor.
Metal lattices.
Metal support beams.
I panted.
I tilted my shaking head up.
Wavering black eyes opened and gazed forward.
I saw two bodies.
Renee.
Daniel.
Both bleeding.
Both screaming in pain.
Facing each other and cursing my name out loud.
I shuddered and clenched my eyes shut.
Teeth gritting as I strained to lose sight….lose consciousness….lose life….
Anything.
"……….."
My muscles relaxed.
A cold sweat turned into a warm flash as my body sharply inhaled.
My parched lips opened….
Lose sight……
Sight……
I gulped.
My eyes were clenched shut.
And in the darkness, all I felt was the metal interior of the zeppelin around me.
My aching limbs.
The naked reality of it all.
Without sharpness or blood.
"……."
I opened my eyes again.
Renee and Daniel were gone.
In their place stood two bodies.
Two bodies that flickered in the shape of a scowling Scarecrow and a bickering Harley Quinn before swiftly transforming into…
FLASH!
Tempest with his gills ripped out.
Diana broken and bleeding.
I clenched my eyes shut.
Tensing again.
But….
Taking firm breaths.
Firm….meditative breaths….
My eyes……
I see what I fear most……
I'm consumed by what I fear most……
As long as my eyes……
As long as my eyes are open……
I clenched my flesh and metal fists.
Inhaling.
Finding my balance.
In the darkness……
In the blackness………
There is the Equalizer…………
And the Equalizer doesn't cower from fear…………
He absorbs it, consumes it, and suffers from it………………
But only to dish it the flipping hellback!
Smoke poured out of my eyes. My limbs tensed and covered with murk. I felt outward in spatial sense and grasped the bodies. The true bodies. The Scarecrow. Harley Quinn. Dr. Langstrom on the floor. Myrkblade across the way.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"And furthermore!" Quinn squealed. "The Wicked Witch of the West wouldn't have been so evil if the house hadn't fallen down from the Kansas tornado to begin with!"
"………..," Scarecrow uttered: "What in Lenin's name are you talking about?"
"What?" Quinn spat. "Ain't you gothic types avant-garde?"
"Allright…..you forced me to do this…."
SWOOOOSH!
TH-THWACK! My kicking leg went flying across Scarecrow's backside.
He fell onto the ground, chest forward. WHUMP! "Ooof!"
Harley Gasped. She reached for her clown gun.
I spun a roundhouse kick into her neck.
"EEK!" she twirled from the impact and slammed back into a metal lattice. CL-CLANG!
Both villains stirred. They struggled up to their feet and looked my way.
Harley gasped.
The beady, blinking eyes adorning Scarecrow's (mask? face?) twitched.
"…….," I stood before them. Hands in fists. Smoke pouring down my bruised and aching body. Murk slithered out from beneath my shades. And in the light of an electric bulb nearby, even they could see that my eyelids were utterly…completely closed.
"Uh…..the kid's blind….," Harley pointed. She glanced blankly at Scarecrow. "Crane? Is that supposed to happen? He ain't looking for snapdragon!"
"You imbecile!" Scarecrow warbled as he stood up. "Isn't it obvious? The boy is spatially aware! Quick! Help me disable him…."
My teeth snarled as black clouds billowed all around my body.
What's the matter, Scarecrow? Afraid of the dark?
THWOOOSH! I blurred towards Crane and slammed an elbow into his chest. THWUMP! His thin frame stumbled back. I snarled and spun with a blindly coordinated knee into his abdomen. Whap! Followed by an ankle against his legs. THRUMP!
The man was tripped and fell down hard to the metal floor.
Harley let out a shout and cartwheeled towards me.
I meditatively leaned back with both hands spaced apart. I felt the air. The murking currents. Her spinning limbs and the direction in which they moved…pivoted….
Harley came up from a somersault. CHIIIING! She produced a razor sharp playing card in either hand like a pair of daggers and sliced at me.
SWIIIISH!
I leaned back at the last second, darting.
CL-CLACK! Both cards came together in a splash of sparks. Grinding aces.
"Eep!" Quinn shuddered.
I blurred forward and gripped her shoulders before kneeing her in the chest.
WHUMP!
"HACK!" she coughed and bent over.
I flipped her over me and reverse-kicked her body into a metal pylon.
SWOOOOSH! CL-CLANK!
On his knees, Scarecrow growled and swung his staff at my feet.
I sensed the swing.
I pulsed murk in my ankles.
THWOOSH! I leapt straight up.
Crane's swing met thin air.
I flipped in place. I came down.
Scarecrow clattered his jaw and shoved his staff straight at me.
FWOOSH!
"……," he stared.
With perfect, smoking balance…I stood one-footed on the end of his staff. Smoke danced all around me as…in a single breath…I leapt and swan-kicked him upside the chin.
THWACK!
"Ughhh!" he fell back and collapsed across the metal floor.
I twirled in the air and landed in a half-split. Ankles and palms touching the ground. Coursing murk through the floor. 'Feeling' the room. Searching for Harley. Finding her behind me. Running. A mallet in her grasp being swung down towards the back of my skull.
"RAAAAAAAUGH!"
SWOOOSH! I swung my metal hand back blindly and gripped the handle of the mallet an inch before the bludgeon could so much as touch my hair. CLUTCH!
"Nnngh! Nnnnghh!" Quinn struggled and struggled to yank my grasp free.
I took a breath, spun, and sort of….'breakdanced' my body up into a murking, upside down ballet twirl. I clung my feet to a metal cross beam above me via murk, re-gripped the mallet, and twisted it from Harley's grasp.
YANK!
Cl-Clatter!
She hobbled back. Gasping.
Plant!
I landed. I took a deep breath. Eyes still closed, I felt for her movement. "……," I looked directly left at her.
"Ackies!" she stumbled back, lip murmuring.
"…….," I marched towards her.
She simpered. She said: "Y-You wouldn't hit a girl, would you….?"
SMACK!
I slapped her with a metal hand.
She spun and smacked against the metal lining of the interior besides the gash Man-Bat and I had made in our entrance.
"Ughhh…..never on a first date….," Harley's eyes spun.
I felt along the floor. I found Myrkblade. I ran towards it….slowed….and gripped the weapon by its hilt. Th-Th-Thwish!
Eyes clenched shut, I smirked.
Ah……that feels good.
I took a deep breath.
I felt a flickering sensation through the corners of my eyelids.
Like a line of horrid red trying to break its way through.
But I fought it.
I kept my eyes closed.
I relied on spatial sense as the visual hallucinogen wore off.
I once outran a harrier jet.
I can sure as Hell outrun a poison.
Harley limped…struggled to her feet….
"Mr. J was right….beauty school's still looking up for me…..th-that or maybe moving to Amsterdam…."
I marched at her.
"Oh, for Criminy's sake! I give up already!"
I frowned.
Not good enough.
FWOOOOSH!
"EEEEEK!"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
SWOOOOOSH!
The helicopters soared over and faded into the distant air.
The streets surrounding the Kane Building were practically bleeding all over with bulletholes, steaming, hot metal. Shattered buildingfronts and ripped-up concrete. The bullet impacts dotted the urban landscape like a rash. The mayhem was outrageous…
Silence……..
"………….," Bullock peeked his head out. He blinked. He limped out, followed by a dazed Montoya and a handful of other officers…SWAT Team members….and firefighters.
"Madre de Dios….," Montoya murmured.
"Uh….yeah…Madre de Doodoo…," Bullock rubbed his head. "What the Hell's gotten into them?"
""We couldn't possibly have suffered that many traitorous officers with a security system as strict as our department's!" Montoya exclaimed. "No…they have to be under the influence! Mind control….brainwashing….even telepathy!"
"Mind control? Telepathy? HA! Renee, this is Gotham City! Not Metropolis…."
"But still…."
"Look on the bright side!" Bullock smiled. "At least they're gone!" He gazed across the street. "Now where's the Commish?"
"Hiding because they're still here, you dumb cluck!"
"Whazzit?"
SWOOSH!SWOOSH!SWOOSH!SWOOSH!
All four helicopters descended, their miniguns armed and rotating.
Montoya ducked. The other officers dove every which way. Bullock stood alone and shrieked like a baby.
"Yowsers!"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
At that same moment….
"Steady……Steady, ya clowns……"
Mugsy and Rhino sweated…
They pivoted and aimed the bazooka carefully.
With a rocket propelled grenade loaded, they aimed the projectile up towards the blimp with the grisly voice from the stairwell commanding them on.
"Easy does it……Easy……Easy……"
"It's now or never, boss…," Mugsy whispered.
"Yeah…we got them!"
"You'll shoot the boid when I tell ya to shoots the boid, ya blockheads!"
"……."
"……."
"…….Okay now! Shoot the boid!"
Rhino tapped Mugsy's head.
Mugsy pulled the trigger…..
T-T-T-T-T-T-
At that same moment….
A manhole cover opened a few blocks away.
Killer Croc squirmed out, grunting.
He rested with his mutated chin above the asphalt and glared straight up at the length of the Kane Building and the noonday sun up above.
"Nnnngh….," Croc muttered. "Frickin' sunshine…."
Before he could motion the train of thugs in the sewer to climb up after him….
PFTCHOOOOOO!
A bazooka shot up from the Hampton building.
He glanced over and his reptilian eyes lit up.
"Oooh….heheh….I'm likin' that!"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
And at that very same moment…..
"Tell us….what is Triangular planning?" Ivy asked.
The drugged Fox rolled his head as he sat at the end of the . "Nnngh….P-Project…..Projeccccct…."
"Yes?" Bane leaned forward. "Yes?
"Nnngh….P-Project Famona…."
Ivy raised a red eyebrow. "Famona?"
"Famonnnnna….," Fox drunkenly smiled, his eyes wide shut. "On weekends….I like to be called Famona……"
"……….uhm….," Bane blinked.
"Gah!" Ivy tossed her arms. "Damn it all! The drug's not making him spill about Triangular! It's making him spill about his filthy personal life!"
"Hehehehe….yes….I'm a baddddd girrrrrrl!"
"Well perfect…solamente perfecto!" Bane grumbled.
"Good news everyone!" Clock King beamed, waving his watch. "Ten minutes till!"
Ivy groaned.
Bane shook his fist. "For the last time…."
CL-CLANG!
The metal door burst open.
Mad Hatter spun around, gasping.
SWOOOSH! TH-THWUMP! Harley was tossed into the pilot's compartment.
"Harl!" Ivy gasped.
THWOOOSH! Scarecrow was tossed in.
"My word!" Clock King gasped.
SL-SLUMP! Dr. Langstrom slid to the ground besides the doorway.
Bane hissed: "Bueno…."
"……," I limped in. Eyes clenched shut. Smoke trailing down my body. I flexed my limbs and felt the room. Felt the people inside. The bodies and the villains and the stuff in between.
"Hehehehe!" Fox drooled and rolled his head. "Johnny on baby, light my fire!"
CHIIIIING!
I pulled Myrkblade out, smoking twice as heavily. I took deep breaths and measured myself up against everyone else….soon to find out that I was only measuring myself against one meaty person in particular.
"Well then, swordsman….," Bane cracked his knuckles and marched towards me. "I was looking for a little excitement. Are you brave enough to fight me to the death ahora?"
"…….," I glared blindly at him.
After today……it'd take a lot to scare me….
SWOOOOOOOOOOSH!
"What in the….?"
"R.P.G!"
"It's headed straight for us!"
Ivy gasped.
Bane spun around, jaw gaping.
"………," I gulped.
Except maybe that……
CRASSSSSSH!