"Sir, perhaps a black shirt would be a wise choice?" Alfred questioned.
Bruce, whom was readying his bow tie, looked at his reflection in the mirror. Down his side there were a few red spots of blood, soaking through his bandage. He took in a deep frustrated breath, and threw his tie onto the dresser, and carefully sat down onto his bed. Alfred went to the back dressing room to fetch the other shirt, as well as the first aid kit.
A light rapp could be heard at the door. "Dad, you decent?" Marti poked her head in with her gloved hand partially covering her eyes.
"Your father is far from decent Mistress." Alfred answered, as he tended to the dressings.
"I'm fine." Bruce butted in, not wanting to give her hope in them not having to go.
"Lucky for you Alfred can get blood, shrapnel, and rubble out of anything." She mused, as she walked over to the balcony doors.
Bruce watched as she passed through the double doors and lean against the railing. She was wearing a long gray silk gown, with his mother's mink fur mantle. As she stood there, with her back to him, he had a memory of her mother standing in the very same place years ago flash before his eyes.
"Dad… Dad? Did you hear me?"
He blinked a few times, and looked her way.
She was now facing him. "Is it too cold for you?"
"No. It's fine."
She cocked her head at him, putting her hand on her hip. "You feeling okay?"
"Yes, just a little sore." He stood, and slipped on the fresh black tuxedo shirt, and tied his tie.
Marti closed the doors, and picked up his jacket. "Wearing your favorite colors tonight?"
Bruce looked over his tux. Everything was black. "Too much?"
"Naw. I like it. Put on your cowl, and we got Batman formal attire."
He dipped his head at with this, but his attention went to her smile.
"What? Did I smear my makeup?"
"No, you look beautiful."
She smiled at this, "Well… We better be off… Oh, and Alfred." She poked her head into the back dressing room. "Don't worry, I packed some extra dressing for dad." She said adjusting the strap from her purse.
"Good, so I won't have to come in and save the evening."
"Nope, I got em."
Far across town, in an old abandoned warehouse, Andrea slipped in through the roof entry. The building was in horrendous shape. Moonlight pierced through bullet holes lining the stairway, all the way down to the main level. She had her mask, and full uniform on. She was meeting with her contact for the final half of her payment. She walked with a purpose, showing no fear. In fact she was angry. Her payment was far overdue, and she specifically said she did not want to return to Gotham for the final transaction. Reaching the center of the building, she scoped out her surroundings. Aside from a few stacked crates, the space was empty.
Not very many places to hide, she thought to herself, as she circled the room, looking for all the doors and windows.
"So glad you were able to make it Phantasm." Came a man's voice from out of the silence.
She swung her head round, trying to find the source.
From above, leapt down a tall muscular figure, with a full hood covering his face.
She held her ground, and tried to hide her surprise from his sudden appearance. "Did my contact send you?"
"Heh… Well actually… About that." The hooded man pulled his bag over his shoulder, and reached inside. Out he pulled the severed head of Len Casey, the head honcho of the east side Drug Depot. "You see… Len was not helping me when he hired you." He tossed the head at her feet.
She tightened her posture, tying her best to hide her fear. Casey was a formidable man, and smart too. Stepping aside from the head, she crossed her arms, holding her finger over her fog trigger. "Your misgivings are with the dead man. I merely serve as a placeholder for the customer."
The hooded man dipped his head with this, and mirrored her posture. "You know… Out of all the people I heard justifying their wrongdoings… Your's by far is the best."
Her finger grazed the trigger, waiting for the right moment.
"I mean… I think you actually believe that. Heh.." He switched to crossing his arms behind his back, and chuckled to himself.
She felt a sudden rush of pain in her right hand. Looking down she spotted a small throwing knife deeply imbedded through her right knuckle, and shorting out her fog screen.
"Ah, but you are no different than the rest." He walked up to her, "You see what I did there… It's called productive banter. And this…" He snapped his fingers. Two long range rifle shots rang out, and before she knew what happened, she was on the ground. "Well this is just planning out all angles."
She squirmed on the ground, but she could not get leverage. Her hands were stuck together by the throwing knife, and both her knees were shot.
"Now… Don't get me wrong. I admire your work. Very efficient." He was standing over her at this point. "But you see…" He placed one foot on her left knee, and started apply pressure. "This is my city now. And I am presently eradicating all evil."
Andrea retched from the extreme pain.
The man lifted his boot off, and circled round her. His steps spread her blood and cartilage spatter throughout the dusty floor.
Her breaths started to become shallow, and she was struggling to keep consciousness through all the pain. But she wasn't going to go out this way. So, with her last bit of strength, she tugged her right hand up, and unbound her hands. Falling forward on bloody palms, she slumped her head down. Her body felt tingly all over, which caused her to look up at her attacker.
"I told you I admired your work. I even used the same paralysis toxin as you on that knife."
She took in a deep breath as her body quaked, and sat back. She raised her right hand up, lowered her hood and reached for the back release of her mask.
"Oh, that won't be necessary. You see… I don't give a shit who you are…" He raised his handgun up, and aimed it at her. "To me you are all the same." And shot her between the eyes.