Barsad didn't have long to wait before curious passers-by noticed his predicament but were too suspicious to help him.
Eventually a tough-talking group of men and women approached and removed his blindfold.
The beleaguered mercenary recognized the rough-looking crowd as Blackgate Prison inmates, who had the rifles he had given them pointed squarely in his direction.
"Hold your fire," one of the inmates ordered, stepping forward. An unlit cigarette hung from his dry lower lip.
"You're Bane's man." He frowned. "How'd you get cuffed up like this, dude?"
Barsad squinted in the bright sun. "Get me a pair of bolt cutters," he demanded, ignoring the inmate's question.
The inmate paused to look at his colleagues, silently consulting them before swinging around to face Barsad again.
"What for?"
"What do you mean, 'what for'," Barsad snarled. "Isn't it obvious?"
"You have balls, standing there with your wrists and ankles locked up, and you're the one ordering us around? Who did this to you, anyway?"
"Trust me, they're not in your league. Total amateurs who got lucky. Are you the boss of this crew?"
"Flattery will get you nowhere, dude"
"Fine. Get me out of these cuffs and there's a big reward waiting."
Loud laughter rippled through the inmate's tall form.
"I doubt Bane rewards anyone. Seems pretty ruthless to me."
"Yesss...the masked man. He broke you people out of prison, so don't piss him off by messing with me," Barsad threatened.
"He won't be pissed off. You mercenaries will die before you'll spill the beans. You'll never give him up, and in return for your misplaced loyalty you'll become collateral damage that he hasn't given a second thought to. The name is Rix, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."
Barsad dropped his head and silently counted to ten, his chest heaving with a level of frustration that threatened to give him a coronary. Rarely had he been at a disadvantage with such unremarkable people. First Kitty Nash's friends had taken him hostage and chained him to a bed, and now a mob of Blackgate inmates stood in his way.
"What were you doing time for, Rix?"
"Securities fraud."
"Why Blackgate? I thought guys like you were shipped off to a low security country club."
"The judge thought I needed humility."
"Well, you sound like a pretty smart guy, Rix, so I'll level with you," Barsad said, thinking on his feet. "We need good people, and I like what I see here."
"You already recruited us. You gave us these rifles, remember?"
"I'm not talking about Gotham. I'm talking about a larger picture. I'm talking about an elite league of soldiers and assassins. You'll get the finest physical and spiritual training, as well as the best of educations. You'll eat better and feel better than any other time in your lives. And you'll have a sense of divine purpose and pride in your work that you never could have imagined before."
Barsad paused his appeal, gesturing to the cuffs rattling around his wrists.
"C'mon, boys...and girls," he grinned. "Help refill our ranks. Cut me loose and I'll make it happen."
"Some other time, Shorty. We'll have to think on that." Then Rix snapped his fingers and waited patiently as a Blackgate woman pushed through the group with a pair of bolt-cutters. A few precision cuts put Barsad out of his misery.
"Your loss, college boy. It was a one-time offer," the mercenary jeered as he headed for the nearest alley, free at last.
"Rix, you didn't believe that load of crap did you?" the woman admonished him as they watched Barsad go.
"Not a single word, Jess," Rix replied.
"Then why'd you let him go?"
"If he expects us to be loyal to Bane for breaking us out of prison, then he's an idiot. That's not the way things work. It's the survival of the fittest. Shorty was stupid enough to give us rifles, so I can't wait to see his face when this conflict ends with Gotham falling into Blackgate's hands."
While Barsad's situation had improved immeasurably, Kitty's lot remained precarious.
Inside Detective John Blake's condo, the living space had become eerily quiet as Kitty remained on her knees with Bane's hand firmly wrapped around her wrist.
She wasn't suprised to see that the woman she had nick-named 'Lady Macbeth' was an other-worldly beauty. She had enormous eyes, a flawless complexion, glossy mahogany hair and a provocative mouth.
If Kitty had ever been interested in the corridors of power, she might have recognized Miranda Tate, Gotham's philanthropic mover and shaker with heavy political influence.
"What's going on here, Bane," the woman demanded again.
"You will call it insubordination," Bane suggested. "I might accuse you of the same thing, seeing as you had me followed."
It was an unresolved wrinkle in their relationship. Although Bane loved Talia, he desperately wished she would learn to respect the boundaries they set between them. Her arriving at the condo out of the blue, and other intrusive behaviours was one of the key reasons why he felt he needed time alone. She was far too present in his life, always hovering in the background. He enjoyed playing games, but he also needed serious down time away from her.
"I had you followed because I turned your world upside down with my new plans for Gotham. I need to know that you're still loyal to me, even if you don't agree with my change of direction. How pleased I am to see that my trust in you has not been misplaced. There has been nothing untoward about your character in the last several days, save for your continued interest in this...this saloon singer."
"Well that's rich, Lady MacBeth," Kitty drawled. "No doubt you're here to whisper some nefarious instructions to him, with promises of sex once he's completed the task."
Talia chuckled softly. "How utterly charming and astute Ms. Nash is! Wherever did you find such a woman, Bane?"
"Enough," Bane bellowed. "You will be pleased to know that tea time is finally over for Miss Katrina Nash," His voice was cold as ice as he increased his hold on Kitty's wrist.
Kitty shivered uncontrollably, shrinking under Bane's grip as the room somehow appeared to grow dark and menacing.
"Katrina has repeatedly sought to deceive myself and the men who guard her. She has a history of it," Bane rasped. "If one were to examine the tea she offered me earlier, one would likely find a hallucinogenic tablet dissolving at the bottom of the cup."
"That's a lie," Kitty charged as she unsuccessfully struggled to break free of him. "I didn't spike your tea. I never even had a chance to pour it. You told me you didn't have the luxury of drinking tea, so why would I do such a thing?"
"I should be pleased to personally deliver her for execution at Gotham Bridge immediately," Bane assured Talia as he pulled Kitty to her feet, intending to leave the condo with her in tow as quickly as possible.
"Not this time, brother," Talia cautioned. "You've had plenty of opportunities to get rid of her, yet somehow the deed remains undone. I will step in and deliver her to the hangman myself."
Bane's eyes turned grim behind the mask.
"I don't advise that. Your identity will be compromised."
Kitty frowned as her wide eyes darted back and forth between Bane and Talia. She was fascinated by their repartee, especially when it dawned on her that Bane was apparently attempting to stall the woman.
"She knows too much, so she must go. I've made my decision, Bane." Talia insisted. "I'll simply wear a black hood, which will be a marvellous touch!"
Not to be outdone, the tenacious mercenary continued to pursue the issue.
"Think on it, my dear. One of the city's most beloved stage stars meeting a very public end with Gotham's reckoning as her hangman. A celebrity execution. I feel the collective blood of Gotham run cold at the very thought of it," Bane thundered.
"I suppose you have a point." Talia conceded. "It would be a fine spectacle for the terrorized citizens to see you string her up on the bridge. Now, I grow tired of toying with you over this. Take her to the bridge, and do not fail me again, my friend. I'll be watching..."
Bane nodded reverently. "I exist only to serve you."
"Good," Talia said, patting him on his protective vest."Come see me tonight in the sewers, and I'll show you the intriguing new plans I've made with the loathsome Congressman Gilley. Then you have my permission to hang the showgirl."
"I should enjoy seeing your plans," the mercenary chirped, rubbing his calloused palms together as he watched her depart.
Kitty sank to her knees again, terrified of what was to come next.
"Please don't hang me," she whispered with uncharacteristic vulnerability after Talia had gone.
"I have no intention of hanging you, Katrina," Bane rumbled amiably.
"I don't believe you. You put a knife to my neck."
"Your death would serve no purpose," Bane mused. "And it would deprive me of the pleasure of seeing you as you are now — on your knees and in my possession. It has long been my intention to break you."
"What's going to happen to you when she realizes you disobeyed her? You heard her. She said she'd be watching!"
Bane's eyes danced with amusement.
"Nothing will happen. What you witnessed is merely a routine between us to ease the burden of leadership. We question one another, threaten one another, spar with one another, and make promises to one another. In the end we never follow through. I told you once before — despite your claims, no woman whispers in my ear."
Kitty again struggled against Bane's grip.
"Sounds like some kind of demented foreplay, if you ask me. Please, will you just let go of my wrist? You're hurting me."
"Your concern for my safety pleases me," he said as he loosened his grip. "Your wrist is not injured."
Although he helped Kitty to her feet, Bane didn't let go. Instead he allowed his thumb to graze the inside palm of her soft hand.
Kitty tried to stifle a gasp as the reverberations of his touch took a leisurely drive up to her shoulder, and taking forever to arrive at the sweet spot between her legs.
"Oh my!" she whispered breathlessly. A hot blush washed over her, and she found it difficult to remain calm. Her theatrical training might have helped her to compose herself or at least improvise, but those instincts had suddenly abandoned her.
Overwhelmed by the seductive power of his simple touch, Kitty feared that he had noticed her reaction.
"So, if you're...if you're not going to kill me, then what are you going to do?" She sighed, feeling less fearful for the first time in days.
"Perhaps I could correct a false impression."
"I don't know what you mean." Kitty frowned.
"Don't you? You remember the day you suspected that my superior officer had hurt me, and you offered to console me?"
Kitty winced at the memory of the incident which saw her luring him into an unexpectedly disappointing sexual encounter.
"Oh...that," Kitty murmured as she looked away from him in embarrassment.
"Do not fret, Katrina. Your instincts were correct. I was out of sorts, and also faced with the opportunity to break you. Unfortunately, withholding myself from you was neither easy, nor pleasant, and I did not live up to my usual gentlemanly standards. Let me assure you that the situation will be very different next time."
Kitty blanched at Bane's words. "There won't be a next time."
"Really," Bane smirked. "Then why did you react so strongly to me just now?"
"I..I'm a skittish person," Kitty shrugged. "Sometimes I just don't like to be touched." She had been naive to hope that he had not noticed her reaction.
"I might put your theory to the test, Katrina. You did not recoil from my touch; rather you shivered in delight."
"That's your interpretation," she said as her body tingled all over. "Look, whatever it is you want from me, I can't give you. You're bad news for Gotham, and I especially can't get involved with you since you killed Mateo."
Kitty reached for her coat, which was hanging on a nearby chair. "I'm leaving now."
"You protest too much, Katrina. You never cared for Mr. Garcia until he was dead," Bane rumbled.
"Stop reminding me of that! I genuinely regret the way I treated him. I want to make changes in my life. I want to make amends and be a better person. Now, you may as well let me go, because you've never known what to do with me since your lackey kidnapped me at the theatre. Any other warlord worth his salt would have cleared out his harem and taken me the same night."
"I am not that kind of warlord, and I do know what to do with you," Bane smiled as he took her coat from her. "And as I told you, no one leaves here."
Kitty sighed nervously. It was very clear what Bane wanted, and that she wouldn't be leaving until he got it.
"Okay," she said flippantly, throwing her hands in the air in a sign of defeat. "You win. Let's get this over with so I can go."
"I assure you, we will both enjoy it more if we do not rush," Bane said as his fingers twitched at his sides."
Mesmerized by the seductive appeal of his fingers, Kitty cleared her throat.
"Shouldn't we have a heated debate that typifies the unaddressed sexual tension lurking between us? After which we tear off our clothing and fall into Detective Blake's bed with you on top?"
"That is a schoolgirl's fantasy," he frowned. "You are a grown woman are you not?"
She had always been so focused on her self and her career that Kitty often overlooked the fact that Bane was a dangerously attractive man. Any woman could fall for him no matter what his crimes. His spectacular body oozed confidence, and he was clearly aware that whenever he walked into a room all eyes fell to him in fear, lust, and hushed reverence. Kitty had no doubt that the face underneath the mask was was equally attractive.
She'd often thought about what it might be like to sleep with him, but it wasn't something she obsessed about night and day, especially since their initial sexual encounter had been a disaster.
"Yes, I am a grown woman, and I expect a grown-up experience," she said as she unbuttoned her baggy shirt. Let's get to it. Clear your mind of Lady MacBeth and all other baggage, because Kitty Nash is here."
Remarkably, they did gravitate to Blake's bed. Bane's coarse fingers travelled the length and breadth of Kitty's body, while she lay overwhelmed by his touch and unable to utter anything but gasps and unconvincing whispered protests.
"You want this," Bane rumbled. His expert touch found its way to the small of her knees and between her damp thighs, before detouring to the soft skin of her delicate throat.
"No!" Kitty squeaked, fearing that he would again threaten her vocal chords with a knife. "Not this again!'
"I will not harm you," Bane growled, thrusting a finger inside her. "Do you believe me?"
"I...I don't know," Kitty panted, rocking against his exploratory finger.
"Perhaps you want convincing," Bane rasped. "Would you like that?"
"Yes...yes. I'd like that more than anything," she whispered, surprisingly candid. "I need it."
Bane planted his hands on either side of the bed, which allowed him to enter Kitty without crushing her with the weight of his body.
"Then you shall have it."
As Bane began an exhilaratingly slow series of thrusts, all thoughts of their failed first sexual encounter were forgotten. Kitty gripped his biceps so hard that she later noticed that she'd left gashes where her nails had sunk into his flesh.
Bane's chocolate coloured eyes gleamed with lust as he stepped up the pace, testing the resilience of Detective John Blake's high-end platform bed.
"Oh, please, don't stop," Her cries sounded throughout the entire condo as she writhed beneath him. Kitty wrapped her legs around Bane's waist, gripping him tightly while he plunged deeper.
"No one is stopping," Bane growled amusedly, savouring the euphoria stirring in his lower regions.
Unexpectedly his eyes flew open and focused on the bedroom window. There was sound in the distance. Music.
I wonder what the king is doing tonight?
What merriment is the king pursuing tonight?
The candles at the court, they never burned as bright.
I wonder what the king is up to tonight?
The mercenary instantly recognized the powerful singing voice of Alia Sharma. Kitty's theatre colleagues had disappeared for a couple of days, but had returned to gather momentum for the growing rebellion against the occupation.
Kitty seemed oblivious to it all, lost in the pleasure building with each and every one of Bane's hard thrusts. When she could no longer delay her climax, she collapsed in his arms.
Although still fixated on the song, Bane followed shortly thereafter, brushing a lock of hair away from Kitty's face.
He rose from the bed and approached the window. He couldn't see the singers of course. They were very skilled at finding places to hide.
Eventually his attention returned to Kitty, who had fallen asleep, tangled in John Blake's sheets.
Bane's eyes narrowed as an idea formed in his head.
"You will do this thing for me," he whispered into Kitty's ear while she slept.
A/N: Happy Holidays to all and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.