Chapter 16 - Fiery steps
Over the course of the next few days Tanya catalogued and re-organized every item in Mr. Freeze's hideout. In multiple adjacent side rooms she stumbled over an impressive array of power generators and industrial metal working tools, which in hindsight made perfect sense. The villain's suit had likely been self-built and all this advanced cryo technology was consuming power like crazy.
Furthermore, she discovered that the woman in the tank was named 'Nora'. According to the documents on hand, she suffered from a disease affecting her lymph system which poisoned her blood and would make her cells age rapidly if left untreated. Apparently Mr. Freeze – real name Victor Fries – had frozen Nora's body to prevent this from happening until he could come up with a cure. In that regard he had made some progress over the past decade, but it was sadly not much.
He had to outsource many projects that laid outside his expertise, often for horrendous sums of money to the top bio-chemical research labs and pharmaceutical companies. No wonder then that he had turned to robbing banks in order to afford the development of a cure for Nora. Tanya, however, held no sympathy for the man. He had invented a freeze ray powerful enough to create a small glacier in seconds... He had even synthesized a chemical able to suck the ambient heat out of any given area instantaneously!
Obviously, Victor must have been a genius to come up with such groundbreaking technology and yet he turned to petty crime to finance his lifestyle? Why didn't he just sell it on the global market!? Any company, from food producers to fridge manufacturers would have showered him with money. Hell, he could have even sold his invention as the solution to climate change, potentially ascending to the ranks of the most important people in history!
Compared to that, robbing banks was just so... pathetic.
In time she would reap the potential he had so recklessly squandered, but not for now. Everybody would connect Mr. Freeze's death to her if she suddenly started spreading his technology, so a few years would need to pass before she publicized his work, unfortunately...
Thus, after gathering every blueprint and handwritten note by the foolish genius into a secure briefcase, Tanya turned to more immediate goals. With the machines and tools on hand she was finally able to make a proper costume for herself. So far she had either gone out in her modified business attire or normal street clothes. While this had been sufficient, she wanted to leave a professional impression on the League of Shadows when she met them on Thursday. Moreover, the added protection to her extremely sensitive flesh was very welcome, should the negotiations turn sideways for whatever reason.
She was most appreciative for the flexible polymer that Victor Fries had used to make his undersuit beneath the rest of his armour. It had a smooth texture that was not at all irritating to her skin and was tough and rubbery enough to be protective. With his scribbled instructions it only took her two tries to create a form fitting suit, adequate to her specifications.
Adding a few smaller, repurposed steel plates above the vital areas on top made the costume a bit bulkier, but overall she didn't lose any flexibility due to it. Even with her required pouches and utility pockets the whole thing was barely a hindrance. It was a bit... plain however.
Regarding her creation with a critical eye, Tanya felt the need to add a bit of contrast to the otherwise rather drab suit. She had stuck to her usual black and white colour scheme far, but a few accents of red really made the design come together. Nevertheless, she was no artist and so she kept it simple. A few touches on her mask gave the demonic face more definition and let her look more bloodthirsty. Furthermore, the red collar of her suit naturally would draw the eye of any attacker towards her best protected area – her upper chest.
Yes, it might have taken three gruelling days of difficult experimentation along with monotonous yet very delicate tasks, but she was proud of the end result. Tanya felt ready to get back to work while inside her new outfit.
-W-
She drew her hood closer, shielding her masked face from the lamplight as she approached South City Park. Meeting with Talia or just an associate of hers made it clear that she needed to wear her mask, both for anonymity and paradoxically, identification. After all, how else were the assassins supposed to know it was her and not some random woman? (If they hadn't already uncovered her true identity of course...)
The snowy park was understandably empty due to the late hour, but that did nothing to soothe her nerves. Tanya was understandably quite stressed from the prospect of walking right into an ambush of a secret killer organization. The best thing about the situation was that the surrounding space was wide open, leaving her escape routes in every direction. Unfortunately, that meant precious little cover for her as well should the League decide to attack her with long ranged weaponry.
Snow crunched under her feet with deafening loudness, appearing to Tanya's sensitive ears like gunshots in the night. Her eyes scanned every bush and tree, coming up empty. Then she smelled it... The scent of leather and sweat wafted down to her from a branch above. The League's members were good, she noted with approval. No footsteps to show that the snow around the tree had been disturbed at all and the figure hiding between the branches was nigh invisible, even to her night vision. These people meant business.
"Very good hiding place. People don't tend to look up much, after all. Would have worked better though if it were summer... Leaves and all." she remarked offhandedly, affecting a jovial mood as if she had always known that the person – who she was pretty sure was a woman – was there.
"Ah, I guess my little game is up before it has even begun." replied a familiar voice and Talia leapt gracefully to the ground. "What gave me away?" the trained killer grinned in a charming way, but Tanya could see a flicker of irritation in her eyes.
'I guess getting caught has rankled her professional pride a bit. Better butter her up to keep her in a good mood.'
"Oh, a simple process of elimination on my part. I couldn't see anybody at ground level, so I just looked up and trusted the faint gut feeling that somebody was there. Blind luck, really." Tanya smiled, carefully studying her opponent's unreadable face.
"Good thinking. Trust your gut more often then; you will certainly need it on the road ahead."
Was that a threat or an honest warning? Most likely both.
"Anyway, what should I call you... 'Devil'? Or do you go by 'White Lady' now?" the heiress asked teasingly.
"Whatever you prefer, Miss al Ghul. I am not particularly enthusiastic about either of them."
"Oh? Names have power, don't you know? My father is called the Head of the Demon for a reason and his enemies have long since learned to tremble before it."
While Talia's probable teacher was no doubt a fearsome fighter, wasn't the fact that his enemies were even still alive to be able to fear him a sign that he was not as deadly as he made himself out to be? Maybe she was overthinking this...
"While proper branding is rather important, I don't think I am quite famous enough to invest into that particular field yet. But nonetheless, I'm thankful for your advice." she deflected.
"Half of America would beg to differ... Regardless, let us do business. First, take a look at the contract you insisted on."
Shrugging off her weird remark, Tanya grabbed the piece of paper Talia had produced from her sleeve and carefully read it over, subtly keeping her attention on her surroundings. Now would be the optimal time for an enemy to launch a sneak attack on her while she was distracted.
The contract was professionally made, but every term on it was awfully vague. Additionally, the League of Shadows never referred to themselves in any overt way, calling themselves 'independent Intelligence Specialists' and similar monikers instead. Not that it really mattered anyway. They were assassins, murderers for hire. By necessity, their profession dictated both a disregard for the law and common morality, so it was unrealistic to expect them to actually adhere to any agreement they made here if it became no longer useful to them. Tanya understood that and planned accordingly.
She made a show of looking up from the text as if her focus had ever left Talia and nodded.
"Thank you for humouring my request for a physical contract. The world is becoming more and more digitally connected by the day, but I am a bit old fashioned like that."
Tanya now possessed tangible proof of the organization's existence, regardless of the veiled language used on the paper. These spooks likely thought that they had appeased a frightful woman with a worthless piece of paper, unfit to be used as evidence in court, but she knew of at least one powerful player in Gotham who wouldn't care about legality to get his way: Batman.
While she wasn't a big fan of the guy – especially after he duped her out of her prize money – it could not be denied that whoever was pulling his strings was serious about fighting crime. The document in her hand would incriminate her as well should she ever give it away; however it would hopefully be enough to spur him into action against this secret society of killers.
"It was no trouble. Your Star is rising, Devil. The League is always ready to invest in the future." Talia explained with open arms which unintentionally made the contour of the knives under her suit more pronounced.
'Yeah, and like any investment I am expected to provide returns...'
"I just have a few questions before we shake hands and go our merry ways... See this here? Paragraph four?"
She useless pointed at the relevant section of the text despite the ambient light level being too low for the normal human eye to read any of it.
"'The payment for services rendered is to be carried out as actions to the benefit of' – yadda, yadda, yadda – I am just going to skip this... Here: 'These services are to be carried out to the fullest expectations of the subject's handler, though abatement may be considered in extraordinary cases.' Does that mean you will be my 'handler', Miss al Ghul?"
"Indeed. I will be your permanent contact to the League."
Wonderful! She now had a stable connection right to the top of the League's hierarchy. While that meant increased scrutiny, it was also a sign that she was a valuable customer.
"I am most grateful for this opportunity. It must have been hard to make time in your schedule for me."
"You should be grateful. I have taken a personal interest in you, which means that by extension you have my father's as well."
The unspoken 'so don't disappoint us' hung heavy in the air before Talia moved on with a smile: "And what do you say of paragraph five? I included it just for you..."
"That the favours I owe shall never violate my 'demonstrated moral boundaries'?"
"Exactly."
At first that might sound good until one realized that the League would naturally push her to commit worse and worse acts over time, broadening the scope of what they could reasonably demand of her. She had already killed a man in broad daylight, so they could theoretically order her to do so again. What would come next?
"It's a sensible stipulation. I would be most upset if you asked me to poison an entire orphanage or something." she lamely joked and Talia laughed, amusedly shaking her head whilst pulling another envelope from her pocket.
"Alright, I can understand that. Then here; this is a list of petty gangs that we would not mind disappearing. As a token of generosity they are ordered by the amount of liquid assets they should have available on hand, ready to be seized." Talia grinned, handing over a plain looking envelope.
Reading through the document her eyebrows rose.
"You call the Bratva a... 'small gang'?" she asked incredulously, looking up from the paper.
"They are parasites, contributing little to the city, but also not taking anything of worth. Nobody would want to ally with them and they are far removed from their original motherland. Isolated and insignificant, what else could one call them but pests?" the assassin haughtily declared.
"I guess... Is there any particular reason you are sending me against them?"
They were at the top of the list for a reason, their wealth tantalizingly written out in bold black letters.
"Ah, you catch on quick! Yes, Gregor Tropovitch has overstepped his boundaries and tried to reach for something that wasn't his. It would do him well to get humbled..."
Very well then, be vague and mysterious… She didn't really want to know anyway.
"Alright." Tanya shrugged. "I'll get to it soon."
"One last gift..." Talia smirked and threw a mobile phone her way. "We'll keep in touch."
As she vanished into the night, Tanya eyed the device in her hand with suspicion. She would definitely need to build a copper box if she wanted to carry that thing around without her location getting tracked...
-W-
Twenty-eighth Kitzki Street had been listed as a storefront for the Bratva's crack trade and she had no reason to doubt that information. Nonetheless it seemed a bit weird to her to put such a volatile business into a restaurant as its front. The kind of customers who could afford a fancy meal here were usually not the ones to purchase such low quality drugs... Not that it would matter when she was done here anyway.
She had waited until one in the morning before she snuck into the building through a window on the third floor. The large windows of these old Victorian era houses were notoriously fragile and she took advantage of that. The only guard who could have heard her slowly ripping out the wooden frame was entirely absorbed by his Playbook magazine, so it was all too easy to simply choke him from behind and carry on, ever deeper through the wooden halls.
Following her ears, Tanya soon broke into a small apartment which housed two snoring men – brothers by the looks of it. Asleep as they were, they never regained consciousness before she slammed their heads into the wall hard enough to leave cracks in the yellowed wallpaper. Three rooms later and she had successfully pacified another three mobsters and looted their personal belongings. Despite being their living quarters, these guys seemed to hoard drugs and bundles of cash under their mattresses or in cheap safes, all of which wandered directly into her backpack.
Just as she was about to leave the quarters of her latest victim, the telltale sound of a toilet flushing alerted her to the second guard on this level exiting the communal bathroom of this floor. Acting quickly, her knife sailed forth from her hand and struck him pommel first in the throat just as he drearily stumbled out of the lavatory. He stumbled back with a choked gurgle, but Tanya was already upon him to put him down with a brutal chop to the neck.
More guards awaited her on the second floor and they were all together this time, sitting around a table in the central hall and playing cards. In some ways this made things easier, but she had to truly push her speed to the limit when she ploughed through their merry get-together in order to put them all down before they could scream for reinforcements.
One of the thugs she jumped on, using him as a springboard while she grabbed his two closest companions, smashing their foreheads together. The smaller one was knocked out instantly, but the bigger guard was merely dazed. Their other friend had sprung up from his chair, still too surprised to get any coherent thought together, yet his mouth was already opening to make his confusion heard. Sliding over the table, Tanya launched a kick to his groin, sending him mewling to the floor, which left her time to deal with the rest.
The goon she had jumped on was also still conscious, which she soon rectified by simply kicking him in the head. Meanwhile the big, tattooed one, had apparently some quite amazing fighting reflexes, because in the short few seconds since she had knocked him and his friend together, he had drawn his knife and was stabbing into her direction.
To her, the motion appeared almost in slow motion, but the sheer power behind his beefy arms was not to be underestimated. Tanya twisted out of the way, only for the gangster to follow up with a vicious swing which she ducked under to reappear inside his guard. A jab to the throat forced him to stagger, but didn't stop him from attempting to skewer her again. In response, she obliterated his kneecap, pressing her hand tightly over his mouth to muffle the scream, even as he fell to the floor. Stomping on his head a few times after that, shut him up for good.
Lastly, she turned back to the one who was still curled up in an embryonic position, clutching his probably, completely ruined chances of ever siring offspring. His tears did not exactly spark pity in her, but she was a touch more gentle when she choked him out.
Fortunately her fight hadn't woken anybody up and so she was free to continue securing room after room until she reached her final destination: The central office.
This was important, because here was the place where the real riches were being stored. No mere pocket change of a couple thousand dollars for these criminals, but allegedly hundreds of thousands. Or so Talia's information claimed...
It took her one look to see the scratch marks around the suspicious painting on the wall, behind which she then found the main safe. Despite her enhanced strength she did not have the means of forcing open a steel box that most likely weighed multiple tons. What she did have, however, was Mr. Freeze's cryonic reagent.
With exceeding care – because she didn't exactly fancy flash-freezing her fingers – she unwrapped the package from the bottom of her rucksack, revealing two vials full of a clear blue liquid. Uncapping one, she slowly dripped the chemical solution into the gap around the door, next to where the latch connected it to the rest of the safe.
Ice flowers emerged on the dark steel and it began to creak as the metals' temperature rapidly shifted towards a negative hundred degrees. Then ice started to push out of the gap, splintering under its own pressure as it tried to expand where there was simply just no room.
When that entire vial was empty and half of the door was overgrown with pearly white frost, she took out the other item she had specifically brought for this heist: An emergency flare.
Positioning herself to the side of the safe and not directly in front of it, Tanya grabbed the flare with a pair of tongs and ignited it. She took a deep breath and rammed the sparking, white-hot roaring flame into the ice, shielding her eyes as the extreme temperature shifts caused the lock to violently explode.
Fragments of ice and metal clattered against her protective suit, while the bureau in front of it was shelled by shrapnel. Paper and wood were torn as fingernail sized chips of steel flew every which way, turning the formerly tidy office into a mess from one moment to the next.
Tanya though, only had eyes for the interior of the now opened safe.
Money.
So much money...
Stacks upon stacks of fifty dollar bills were arrayed in neat rows, nearly filling the entire interior from top to bottom. Filling her backpack with bundles of bank notes had her grinning like a loon underneath the mask... This day was amazing!
Only when her backpack was filled to the brim, near bursting in fact, with more cash than she had ever seen in her entire life, did Tanya consider how unwieldy carrying that much baggage around really was. She had the strength to lift it no problem, but it severely messed up her balance. Jumping over rooftops to get back home would be a real challenge...
Deciding to move on, she paid a last visit to the first floor, not wanting to potentially miss out on something important. The dining area looked fine if unremarkable and the kitchens were reasonably clean. Arbitrarily, she opened a side door to find a mountain of suspicious packages just sitting there, out in the open.
It couldn't be...
Slashing one of them open, a small avalanche of powdery rocks tumbled to the ground.
They were storing the crack in the kitchen!?
Did those morons have no concern for contamination!? What if a spontaneous hygiene inspection stumbled over the mountains of hard drugs!? Originally, she had just planned to make off with the money, but this amount of furious stupidity deserved to be punished.
Ripping open the rest of the packages, she spilt the dirty brown crystals all over the floor before emptying four entire canisters of cooking oil and a small collection of vodka bottles over it. After smashing the smoke detector on the ceiling she flicked a burning match into the middle of the room and closed the door before the inferno could reach her feet.
Suddenly remembering that she hadn't explored the basement yet, Tanya hurried away from the kitchen and to the last door in the back. As she descended into the unlit cellar, the smell of blood and feces assaulted her. Once again she decided to follow her nose which quickly brought her to a strange door. It was secured with three separate locks and a heavy chain. Whatever was inside there, someone really wanted it to stay there. Naturally that was as good an invitation as any for her and she kicked it open. Even with her enhanced strength, it took her three attempts before the metal finally yielded and tore apart.
Almost immediately two lanky hands shot out from behind the corner and attempted to grab her still extended leg, but Tanya managed to redirect its course at the last second and jump back. She had heard nothing! At this short distance at least the heartbeat of another person should have been audible to her senses, but instead she noticed nothing. Only the smell of unwashed skin and dried blood gave away her opponent's presence.
Multiple long seconds passed before she carefully called out: "Hello? I will not harm you if you come out peacefully."
She was willing to give whoever was held prisoner in this hole at least the benefit of the doubt.
Out of the room peaked the visage of a young girl, no more than fourteen or so years old. Her expression was blank, but her hollow cheeks, the heavy bags under her eyes and the scars littering her raggedly dressed body spoke volumes of her treatment under the Russians. The girl silently stood there, intently studying Tanya from head to toe, her wiry muscles tensed in preparation to escape.
"The men who captured you here have been dealt with for the moment. It's alright."
No reaction. She really wasn't good at consoling children...
"Ah, right! We have to leave! There is a fire starting upstairs!"
The kitchen floor was tiled, so there was little risk of the house burning down, but the developing fumes from burning a quarter ton of crack were bound to be extremely poisonous.
The girl continued to quietly stare at her in a rather unsettling manner. Was she deaf? No, probably just heavily traumatized.
"I'm not here to harm you." Tanya repeated more softly and stretched out an inviting hand.
Once again she got no verbal response, but the girl narrowed her eyes and cocked her head questioningly.
"Let's get out of here." she finally stated, pointing in the direction of the stairs which at long last spurred the scarred girl into motion.
Both of them kept a close eye on each other as they ascended the staircase towards the ground floor where the stench of burning plastic was already spreading from the kitchen.
"I'll call the police to pick you up and they'll bring you home. How's that sound?" she smiled, but judging from the uncomfortable look on the girl's face her mask was somewhat undercutting her attempts at being friendly and personable. She didn't exactly pick it with public relations in mind...
"Alright, I am going to go upstairs to make a phone call..." here she mimed holding a speaker to her ear. "You can wait outside for a moment or come with me if you don't want to be alone."
Tanya rapidly pointed back and forth between them, trying to indicate 'togetherness' which the silent girl apparently understood because she nodded resolutely.
Shrugging, she went back to the trashed office and was relieved to find that the telephone on the desk was still working despite the piece of metal embedded in the casing. She called the police hotline and was in the middle of reporting the incident when the operator on the other end interrupted her.
"Are you White Lady!?"
'Thanks Batman...'
"Yes. As I was just explaining-"
"No way! Ah, sorry, but I've really gotta ask – it's been a hot debate in the entire station – are you another villain?"
What a strange and loaded thing to ask. Was his worldview so narrow as to only categorize people into 'heroes' and 'villains'? There was really no correct answer that she could give here, so she simply deflected it with a meaningless question of her own.
"Would you consider Batman to be particularly 'heroic'?"
Tanya let that sink in for a short moment before carrying on.
"Back to the topic at hand, there is an acute fire hazard in the kitchens on the north side of the building; roughly two-hundred kilos of crack are being burned right there, so you should probably send a fire engine as well. Finally, I have freed a little girl, likely the victim of extensive abuse. Treat her nicely, she has been through much."
Dropping the speaker, she ignored the officer and gave a thumbs up towards the girl.
"The police will soon be here. Soon everything is going to get better."
She surprised Tanya when she pointed at the phone and shook her head.
"You don't want to go with the police?"
Once more the malnourished girl shook her head.
It was an understandable reaction to be scared of the GCPD. They were a heavily corrupt and violent lot, content to let difficult cases 'disappear' if the public didn't care for them, thus as a lone and possibly orphaned girl she was reasonably fearing for her safety. That is, if a mole in the organization didn't sell her right back to the mob… otherwise she would simply be dumped into an orphanage and despite how much Bruce Wayne had invested in those, there were still horror stories being told about what went on inside those facilities...
"Okay. You can think about it for a while longer until they come, but in case you don't want to go with them we can get you a warm jacket at least?"
A blank stare was all she got, but at this point she didn't expect anything different.
Stripping the smallest man outside of his clothes was quickly done and she presented the clean jacket and trousers to the girl with an encouraging nod. Hesitantly the former prisoner reached out and snatched them as if she was afraid they would be immediately taken away.
Tanya turned her gaze to the floor while the girl changed and soon she was dressed more appropriately for the winter than just the rags she had beforehand.
Grabbing a bundle of fifties from her pocket, she held it out for the child to take. That way she would be able to survive for a few days.
"Here. Money. Should be enough for a hotel room and some warm meals."
The girl looked at the cash like she didn't even know what a dollar was before taking it and sniffing at it. Weird...
Leading her back down the stairs, they went outside. Tanya relished the clear air and even the girl seemed appreciative of the night sky. The stars looked quite nice tonight.
"I'm off. I don't care to explain where the money in the safe went and I also don't want to get caught by Batman. If you want to be rescued, stay here and the cops should show up in a few minutes. Otherwise... good luck."
She waved goodbye and tapped her wrist to indicate how late it was. Regardless of if she had understood her or not, Tanya bent her knees and jumped up to the second story balcony above her. As expected, the heavy backpack threw her a bit off, but she managed to drag herself up and repeat the process until she stood on the roof.
Down below on the snowy street the mute girl regarded her with one last unknowable look, before turning around and sprinting around the nearest corner. Tanya wished her luck, she truly did.