Chapter One: It's Cold Where the Blue Flowers Grow
The basement of the century old library in the heart of Gotham City did not benefit from the central heating in the retrofit from a decade before. Bane and Talia sat across from each other, a square wooden table between them, the top unfinished, a casual sweep across the table with a bare palm, would result in a splinter or five.
Between them were a few stacks of paper and an unfolded copy of the Gotham Gazette with a long-winded article from a lustily, conservative journalist about Governor Matthew Kingston Leroux.
Governor Leroux had been the deciding vote in a bill that damned many of Talia's comrades around the globe in countless prisons to death, as well as kept a host of allies in the immediate Black Gate Prison under lock and key for the remainder of their natural life.
The Governor's vote hobbled Talia's plans for the liberation of Gotham City. She was furious that she had to momentarily divert her attention from abducting an astrophysicist and filleting a bat.
Governor Leroux was pictured above the fold with his lovely family.
Bane and Talia's breath turned to fog in the air, they could've been holding imported Cuban cigars.
The temperature didn't bother them, it was bitterly cold where the blue flowers grew.
In the vivid photo, Governor Leroux was holding hands with his delicate former, prima ballerina wife, Julie Leroux.
On the other side of the Governor was his firstborn son Sebastian and daughter-in-law Madeline, who was heavily pregnant with twins, already named Philip and Matthew.
An heir and a spare that would be separated by seven minutes after a full term, complication-free labor.
On the other side of Julie Leroux was their second child Clara.
Bane's eyes moved over the perfect family that was popped out of carefully formed molds and carefully curated for consumption.
The article went on to detail Leroux's illustrious career and meteoric rise to political power.
The article went on to announce that Governor Leroux would be present at a benefit for survivors of violent crimes. The five-thousand dollar a plate dinner would be happening at the end of the week at a posh estate.
Talia's inky black pupils were large in the low light, her voice dropped an octave as she looked up and spoke to Bane.
"Miranda Tate will be attending this gala, I want to meet Governor Leroux and his beautiful family," she added on a growl.
Bane held Talia's unblinking eyes, only nodding as the steady drip from a leaking water heater sounded in a staccato rhythm.
The library was temporarily closed due to a rat infestation.
The damage hadn't been discovered until rats had eaten through the animal biology section from Felis catus to Aptenodytes forsteri.
Bane dropped his eyes back to the photo that looked straight from a home and garden magazine, pressing a large hand to cover the perfect family, spreading his fingers.
The scarred pad of his index and pinky finger covered Clara and Sebastian's faces.
The pixelated images under his rough skin was not an accurate representation of the Leroux Dynasty.
While Bane and Talia constructed the details for the Governor to pay in flesh, offer genuine penance, the actual Governor was currently sipping an aged scotch in the Gotham Towers penthouse he owned, no ice in his glass to distort the flavor.
The day had been hectic, and Matthew longed for the soothing touch of the alcohol, craved the numbness, warmth spreading through his chest and belly, shifting uncomfortably as his fatty liver was already overtaxed from contending with his multiple martini lunch.
His graceful wife Julie was running on the treadmill, the miles disappeared under her sneakered feet as she watched a telenovela with closed captions.
In the living room, all the kids were collected, each one wrapped in a plush, white robe, bare feet up on the furniture as they drank champagne and ate caviar topped omelets.
Sebastian had his arm around Madeline as she picked the caviar off her omelet with a disgusted expression on her cosmetically modified face.
She paused as she scraped every indigo fish egg off her yellow omelet when one of the babies gave a sharp series of kicks in her grossly extended belly.
Clara topped off her crystal flute with the costly champagne, angling herself on the sofa so her brother and sister-in-law couldn't see what she was doing on her tablet. She kept the volume off, randomly commenting on the streaming series that was blaring from the television.
Before he went to bed, Matthew reminded everyone of the week's itinerary, a lot of public appearances, photo ops and daytime television, all leading up to the big bash on the hill.
"What are you always doing on that thing?" Madeline asked, looking over at Clara whose eyes were glued to the HD screen.
"Looking at shoes," Clara answered automatically, flicking her eyes up to meet Madeline's.
Madeline nodded and then struggled to rise off the plush sofa, needing to stretch her legs.
Sebastian watched his wife walk away, letting his eyes linger on the sweet sway of her bottom as she walked away.
Madeline Leroux had an ass that made priests look twice.
The week leading up to the gala was busy for Talia al Ghul and the Leroux Dynasty.
The week was full of fine dining, buffets with endless canapes and mimosas. Madeline spent four hours at a high-end couture clothing store, trying to find a dress that didn't make her look fat. Madeline dragged Clara along with her everywhere as though she was an accessory or a fancy new hat.
Clara was fine with whatever as long as she was able to access wi-fi and ensure that her tablet was never out of her hands even when she used the bathroom. Talia enlisted Barsad to run surveillance along with a handful of other trusted men.
One of the men was a former employee of a government agency which was abbreviated to three little letters that were often a punchline and uncovered the encrypted channel that the Governor's security used. The allegedly secure line offered a lot of insight into the Leroux family.
One of the armed men, compiled the transcripts and delivered them to Barsad, who in turn delivered them to Bane who reviewed them before eventually giving them to Talia.
Bane would pour over the transcripts, trying to glean any and all information about the obscenely rich Leroux family.
It was easy for Barsad and his group of surveilling men to decipher the code names the security team used for the Leroux family. They Governor was referred to as the Elk, his wife, Sparrow.
Sebastian and Madeline were collectively known as the Canary and the Possum, while Clara was called the Raven after her inky black hair, each strand as shiny as an avian pinfeather, liquid in its movement.
Talia was on the edge by the time the evening of the party arrived, she was short-tempered as she slipped into her Miranda Tate costume, she ran a brush through her lustrous mane of hair before dabbing a rich pomegranate gloss across her full lips.
She silenced her phone and shoved it in her small clutch bag, she'd been having a difficult time reaching her contact in Eastern Europe that was keeping eyes and ears on the nuclear physicist Leonid Pavel.
She was driven to the party by one of the well-paid militant men. On the way to the gala she closed her eyes and repeated a mantra that her father had taught her when she was a very small child.
"I split the earth with each foot fall," Talia whispered as she closed her eyes, inhaling, keeping the breath trapped in her lungs before slowly exhaling.
"I am."
"I shake the heavens with my voice," she said, her voice rising in strength as she added.
"I am."
Bane, Barsad and a gaggle of the other dangerous men were already staged a winning quarterback's football throw away from the estate.
Talia would arrive at the gala, mingle, dance with senators and flirt with the attorney general while Bane and dangerous company intercepted the heavily reinforced SUV with the Leroux family as they were driven directly from the private airstrip near the estate.
Talia would never rouse suspicions with how much she was seen at the party, while she deliberately blinked her eyes slowly at an ambassador, out of screaming distance from the gala, the Leroux's vehicle was stopped, their security team viciously murdered and brought right back to the airport.
After Talia had spent an appropriate amount of time at the party and drank a glass of champagne, she was driven to the airport to confront the Governor and his legislation that damned many she considered as close as her own blood family.
Talia resumed her mantra on the way to the small airstrip, by the time she arrived, she felt the strength of her father fall around her shoulders like a comforting cloak, leaving her knowing that she could burn the world to the ground.
"Gods tremble, hearts stop, and life ends in my wake. " she whispered as she emerged from the luxury sedan in a vision of chiffon and grace. Her legs were long and lean, the thigh high slit showed off peeks of her delectable flesh with every confidence step she took towards the Leroux family that were all lined up with their hands zip-tied behind their backs, encircled by men paid to pull the trigger and end lives without question.
"Good evening Governor Leroux, Talia called as she closed the difference between herself and the patriarch of the powerful family.
The Leroux family were lined up with their eyes blindfolded and their hands zip-tied behind their backs.
The Governor's head swiveled on his head like he was a goddamn barn owl at the sound of Talia's voice.
Matthew's voice trembled as he spoke. "What is the meaning of this?"
Talia laughed, her voice liquid metal as it spilled from between her full lips.
Bane watched Talia stalk towards the Governor and his lovely family, his heart would swell many times its size as he luxuriated in her rage and bloodthirst.
Talia's eyes flashed from the fire inside her.
Her footfalls were strong, the heels clacking, tapping into the earth's molten core.
Her voice carried to the night sky above.
Talia began by naming off the names of prisoners and allies that were now rotting in the Hague, doomed to disappear into the oblivion of Belgrade or rot away in a prison that could withstand hurricane force winds.
Matthew Kingston shook his head, many of the names familiar, criminal.
Not a criminal like he was, they were dirty, unrepentant, his collar was white, stark, a shade of freshly fallen snow from his crimes.
His manmade god might forgive him, but the Department of Justice wouldn't.
"What do you want?" Governor Kingston cried in a shrill tone, not a voice he would want captured and replayed on every news station of him squealing like little Miss Muffet.
"I want you to beg penance for what you've done to my comrades, my countrymen, my family," Talia spit, closing the space between herself and the well-dressed Governor.
"I don't understand," Matthew started to say before Talia slapped him across the face, his smooth shaven stung as she interrupted him.
"I want the flesh of your flesh for those you have judged, damned and murdered."
Talia didn't give Matthew a chance to answer before she nodded at one of the many armed men that had their eyes trained like hawks upon the bound family and the fallen security agents that littered the ground in death.
The armed man, his eyes devoid of emotion, trained the barrel of his gun towards Governor Leroux and pulled the trigger.
The Governor hit the ground hard, the bullet burying itself in his knee, splitting the patella right down the middle.
"Please, please, what do you want," Julie piped up, her cultured tones were raw, not fit for the public eye.
"Give me one of your children," Talia demanded as her voice dropped low.
"What?"
"No."
"You can't."
"Dad?"
"Mom?"
The Leroux family erupted into a chorus of shouts and cries for help until Talia nodded again at the armed shooter who delivered a second bullet, this time hitting Matthew's other knee.
The bullet hit a little lower and went clean through, leaving a ragged, wet, exit wound.
"Be in silence," Talia hissed. "Give me one of your children and the pain ends or I will damn all of you to a life of imprisonment."
Bane crossed his arms over his broad chest, an electric trill raced through his central nervous system at the idea of personally throwing the Governor into The Pit.
Talia squatted down in front of Matthew.
"Pick one," she said, watching his lips quiver, a string of saliva dripped to land on the dark red fabric of his pocket square, the silk fibers bloating with the wetness.
"No, please, take me, let my family go," Matthew pleaded, snot beginning to pour out of his nose in sticky strands.
Talia laughed, "since you can't decide, I'll take your son," she harshly spit.
"No," Julie screeched, "not Sebastian."
Julie didn't want the optics of her family distorted, picked apart by the media vultures.
She had a beautiful, pregnant daughter-in-law, her son had successfully placed the stem on not one but two apples in one foul swoop
"Your daughter then Mrs. Leroux?"
Julie's face contorted in shame; grateful she couldn't see anything with the crudely placed blindfold.
"Please, just not my son," Julie whispered raggedly as she collapsed sideways to the filthy asphalt.
Everything moved in hyper speed from that moment.
Talia didn't say another word to the Governor or his wife, merely rose to her full height and nodded towards Bane.
He echoed her nod and stalked to where Clara Leroux was rapidly growing nauseated, closely followed by a wave of dizziness.
A startled cry escaped from between her lips when Bane scooped her up, throwing her roughly over his shoulder.
The rounded, muscular cap of his shoulder pressed against her floating ribs, threatening to crack the cartilage.
Clara cried out with fear as her feet left the ground before she bounced with each of Bane's heavy steps towards the airplane that was fully fueled and ready to take to the night skies.
As Bane carried the screaming and flailing Clara Leroux towards the plane, one of the heavily armed men turned to Barsad, nodding towards the mismatched pair.
"Who's she?"
Barsad shook his head, "a federal crime that'll stick."