CHAPTER V

Nothing especially important transpired in the few days after the Red Hood was taken to Arkham. Life seemed normal for the first time in a long time. One day, I was bored and asked Alfred, "Do you want to catch a movie, to ease the tension?" "What's in the theaters?" asked Alfred. I thought for a second. "Oh," I said, "American Hustle came out a couple of days ago." Alfred shook his head. "Is there anything with that Michael Caine fellow?" he asked. "I don't think so," I said. Alfred said, "No, not really, then." I sighed and walked back to my couch.

I laid down, wallowing in my inactivity. It felt like one of those montages in TV shows. You know the ones, where some character is lying down somewhere, and the clock above his head cuts to different times, and he's still there. Yeah, that's what my day was like. All I really did was periodically shift to different positions.

And then, finally, I got a call. It was Lucius, telling me to head to Wayne Enterprises. When I got there, I saw something awesome: the suit, slightly upgraded. Lucius had added a cape which, when spread, looked like bat wings. I looked at the wrists and saw a couple of contraptions that almost looked like guns. "What're these?" I asked. "These," said Lucius, "are grappling hooks. I figured you would ask me anyway eventually, so I put them on the wrists." I assumed an expression of approval and impression and said, "Cool."

Lucius laughed lightly. "Now," he said, "of course, we have to talk about a mode of transportation. I mean, you can't just walk everywhere." I nodded and said, "Actually, I've been thinking about that too. I have a candidate right outside." I walked out, and returned in my new jet black Lamborghini Aventador. Lucius stared at it for a few seconds and then performed a face-palm gesture. He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose and said, "Did you buy that specifically for this?" "Heck yeah," I said, pleased with myself. Lucius groaned even louder and lamented, "Bruce, compared to what we're going to need for something like protecting an entire city, this car would be better suited for driving Miss Daisy!"

I got out, held up my pointer finger, and said, "Yes, but only right now. I figure we can stick some armor and guns and such on this sucker, and then, BAM! Awesome car fit for a crime-fighter." Lucius looked at me incredulously and said, "Theoretically, yes, we can do that, but why not get something tougher?" "Because I've already spent almost half a million on this thing," I said. Lucius said, "Bruce, do you really think I have the time to do something like that?" I raised my eyebrows and replied, "Uh, yes." Lucius sighed and said, "Fine, I do. But it'll take a few weeks." "Perfect," I said. "Hey, can I take the suit home?" I added. "Sure," said Lucius. I went outside and yelled out to Alfred, who was waiting with my Rolls-Royce, "Alright, Alfred, I got me some new duds!" Alfred rolled his eyes.

Upon getting home, I tried on the suit for the first time. It was surprisingly comfortable, although I accidentally speared the mirror I was posing in with one of the grappling hooks. When Alfred saw it, he said, "So, you are going with Batman, then?" I shrugged and said, "I may as well." I guessed that Batman would stick anyway, and I'd need to have a look that completes it. I'd already decided that I would go out on my first crime-fighting experience. I prepared myself, and headed out into the streets of Gotham.

I watched the news even more carefully since I decided to start this little crusade. I'd recently heard about a guy named Dr. Hugo Strange. He was a scientist who had started to make a living selling enhanced crystal meth. Coming from my background, you can understand why I wanted to take this guy down. The police had already planned a sting op that night. Thank God for police scanners. Strange and his goons were holed up in a warehouse on the docks (why is it always the docks?), where their biggest lab was located.

Once again making my way to the roof with a grappling hook, I crouched over a skylight and saw the lab. The place was populated by about 30 henchmen, but they were spread out, which would make my job a whole lot easier. And then, I spotted him: Hugo Strange. He was rather unassuming, with a small frame, glasses, a turtleneck, and a grey beard. I thought about how I should approach the situation. I decided a bit of theatrics wouldn't hurt.

And so, I threw a batarang through the skylight, aiming it so that it would land squarely in front of Strange on the floor. Immediately, I wrapped my cape around myself, so my whole body aside from my head would be concealed. Strange picked up the batarang. He looked up at me, saying, "Who're you?" I responded in a deeper and gruffer voice, "I'm Batman." Strange just stared at me. "Batman?" he questioned. "Batman," I repeated. Strange cracked a smile, which grew into a grin and mutated into a laugh. I mentally scrambled towards something to say, and all that came out was, "For the record, I didn't come up with the name." "I'm sure you didn't," said Strange. Turning towards his henchmen, he said, "Kill this idiot."

My first thought was I'm not an idiot. My second thought occurred when a bullet whizzed past my head, and it was simply, GET DOWN THERE. I jumped backwards off the roof's edge. Halfway through the flip, I fired one of my grappling hooks at the wall above a window. The hook latched onto the wall, allowing me to swing through. Theatrics: check. They immediately started shooting in my direction. Through some luck, none of the bullets hit me.

A guard in front of me fired at me just as I ran along the wall for a second and jumped off, fist flying at his face. I landed a teeth-shattering blow to his head. He laid there groaning through a bloody nose and mouth. I used another grappling hook to position myself on one of the rafters. They fired towards the ceiling, yet again missing me. I pulled out six batarangs, three in each hand. I threw them at six guards. Three nailed them in the face, two in the midsection, and one of them will have trouble reproducing.

I smiled to myself. So this is what taking down baddies feels like, I thought. The moments before transpired in about fifteen seconds, meaning Hugo Strange had just started to make his way to the door. I exited the building through another window, and landed in front of Strange. A bodyguard pulled out his pistol, but I struck his arm up into the air and sent the heel of my palm into his chin. The bodyguard crumpled.

I'm six foot one. Strange is five foot six. You can imagine where this went. I lifted him up by his shirt collar, putting my face two inches from his. "When you get to Arkham," I said, "tell your cellmate and anybody who'll listen: beware the Batman." Amid his protests, I cuffed Strange, threw him over my shoulder, and ran off while simultaneously calling 911. Thankfully, there was a patrolling police officer not two minutes from my position. With Strange still over my shoulder, I climbed up another warehouse and waited for the police officer.

When he arrived with backup, I unceremoniously dropped Strange into a dumpster. The police noticed, and took him in. The following day, Strange was on his way to Arkham with all his men. Apparently, all those who weren't knocked out or writhing on the floor tried to clean up the massive amount of equipment and meth. If they were smart, they would've gotten out of there when I went through the window.

That was my first big success as Batman. I took down a couple more criminals the next day as well. By this time, Batman was famous. I was on a roll. But what I was greeted by when I got home that night was kind of a downer. One of the windows had been expertly opened, and I heard a faint rustling about twenty feet away. Someone was in my house. I lunged towards the spot where I heard the noise and grabbed the thief by his shirt collar.

I picked him up and brought him close to my face. I put on my Batman voice and said, "What are you doing here?" The thief responded, "Batman?! I'm sorry, alright! Just don't kill me, or anything." Aw, heck, I thought. I had heard that voice before. I removed the ski mask the thief was wearing. "Dick Grayson?" I said. He grimaced at me and said, "Yep, that's me." I dropped him onto the marble floor. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Are you kidding me?" I said. I took off my mask, considering he looked pretty scared.

His eyes widened. "Bruce Wayne? You're Batman?" he said, surprised. I nodded. "I didn't know this was your house!" he added frantically. I looked at him and said, "You didn't know that this was Wayne Manor. Mm-hmm. Right, sure. It's not like it's the biggest house in the city, or anything." "Look, I haven't lived here that long, okay?" he said. I continued staring at him. I had a thought. "Hey," I said, "How did you get in here without waking up Alfred?" He sat up and said, "Well, me and my parents were acrobats, so, it wasn't really that hard." "Well, never mind about that," I said. "Just get out of here." "You're not going to call the cops on me?" he asked. "No," I said, "but don't tell anyone that I'm Batman, or else." "Or else what?" he asked nervously. "I will tell the cops," I said. I helped him up and he said, "Thanks. Your secret's safe with me." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't do that," I said. He gingerly took his hand off, and I led him out the door. I heard clattering from down the hall, and Alfred emerged from his room. "Master Wayne," he said, "I trust your little expedition went well." I looked back through the window. Dick was already out of sight. "Yeah," I said. "I guess it did."