Vigilantes Roasting on an Open Fire

In another time, in another age, Lucy's would have been a household name, up there with Kaye's and Russell Korman. Expansion plans had never quite panned out, and while it was still doing well on its home turf in Gotham, this was the furthest it would ever go until someone with ambition and a solid business plan came around.

For tonight, after everything was closed and locked up, and as the midnight hour slowly approached, he arrived.

He had been casing Lucy's for a while, at first just to challenge himself, keep the mind sharp, and now all that self-imposed effort was paying off. There would be no signs that someone was watching the place, checking it out, identifying any possible vulnerabilities in its security. Police would have nothing to go by other than the robbery, and if this was done right, they'd be on a wild goose chase.

Power was cut, the security system tampered with so that it too shut off at approximately 10:30 PM. Cameras would be down, various sensors would be down, and the only thing that would still be active would be emergency lighting. Not all security features could be disabled; there were battery-powered sensors in the display cases that monitored the glass. Breaking any of the cases would trigger these sensors and a secondary silent alarm would go off. This would require the tried and true method of lockpicking to get around that.

Yellow-gloved hands unlocked the latest case, arms clad in red reached in and various pieces were plucked off their displays. Sure, it would be easier to rummage through and make a mess, but he was in no hurry. When police investigated, they'd come to the conclusion that the person responsible felt comfortable to take their time, perhaps they were an inside job.

The lack of lighting, though, made it more difficult, especially when working under the light of the nearest exit sign. A flashlight would make it easier but it risked drawing attention. This problem was solved by the goggles he wore.

It was a DIY project, one that he customized himself. It could be worn around the forehead, or around the neck, but when placed in front of the eyes, it would be easier to make out the uppercase C over the right eye and the lower case e over the left eye. Between these two letters and over the bridge of his nose were an upper case L and U. A nice personal touch there.

While that was decorative, the features were not, such as the night vision the goggles were granting him. It made the world a shade of green, but it was so easy to make out where the jewels were. Necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets, watches, you name it, none of it was off limits. Everything. He needed to grab everything.

It might be the most cliche thing here, but it was all going into two sacks, brown and nondescript. Initially light, the takings of this theft would weigh them down so even if everything was the goal, taking them out if the sacks had excessive weight might pose a problem. It would be a bitch if one broke open and spilled its contents. A balancing act with getting the most but not too much.

Finished with this case, he moved on to the next, inserting the picks into the keyhole of the lock. Even after all the years and technological innovations, Lucy's still used a lock and key as one of their security features. It was for this reason why he picked this store.

The lock unlocked, the glass barrier slid to a side, and he began to loot this case as he had done the others. As he dropped a brooch into one of his sacks, the thief paused, feeling as if the hairs on the back of his neck were rising.

Choosing caution, he looked up from ransacking the latest display case and took a scan of his surroundings. Lucy's was quite large for a jewelry store, length and width almost the same. Display cases lined the walls, enough space between them to allow employees access to the displays from behind. There were other displays in the middle of the showroom floor, ones he hadn't gotten to yet. Advertisements littered the area, always with big smiles and beautiful looking pieces of jewelry, trying to coax you into buying whatever it might be.

It was so empty, devoid of all life, yet why did it feel like someone was watching him?

A yellow-gloved hand reached to a holster within his blue vest. A handgun was pulled out; you never knew when you would need a weapon. Slowly, he turned his head, using the night vision of his goggles to help with finding anything that stood out. Though the world was bathed in green, that did not mean everything was visible.

Completing the scan of the store and finding nothing, the thief debated on whether or not he should stay. Trust your gut, get out, but that would mean leaving so much on the table. There might be more that could be fenced if only he stayed a little longer. Decisions, decisions.

Another minute. Another quick sixty seconds, and then he would be gone. That meant working quickly. Right. Back to…

As he was beginning to reholster his gun, turning back to the display case in front of him, something in the corner of his eyes drew his attention to his left. It didn't take much to let his neck turn just a little further, and when he did his eyes widened behind his goggles as the features of the Bat greeted him.

He cried out, stumbling back while trying to aim his gun at the vigilante, but then his weapon was knocked out of his hand, clattering onto the display room floor. This time he fell back, tripping over his sacks of loot and not needing any attack from the vigilante in front of him for that.

Quickly, he snatched the sacks, closing their openings with his fingers balled into fists. Scrambling onto his feet, he rolled over the display cases so that he could get more room as well as get to his gun. It was right there, almost within reach. All it would take would be let go of a sack, reach out—

A booted foot kicked the handgun away, bringing him up short. It was the vigilante! Batman! And—he was…shorter than he thought he would be…

No, he was having to look down somewhat and…the feminine features began to make themselves known. Under night vision, so much was dark, practically sucking in the green that his goggles afforded him.

Still, while there was an expectation, this was not going according to plan.

"Hands up," a voice from behind ordered. Whipping his head around, there was another person in the store, one with spiked hair, a jacket over what looked like body armor, and an odd-looking rifle in hand with its barrel aimed at him. "Looks like we found the real Riddler here, and not even the real deal."

It was thanks to a combination of the goggles and the yellow face mask that covered the lower portion of his face that the grimace was not seen. Another vigilante he figured. One to the front, the other to the back.

He turned his body so that the not-Batman was to his right and the other one was to his left. This seemed to be allowed since he wasn't shot but that rifle barrel remained trained on him. The maneuver had another purpose though, one that brought him closer to retrieving his gun. It was still several feet away, but if he played his cards right…

"You managed to answer my clue," he said. "Perhaps it was too hard since only you lot answered it."

"Put down what you stole and surrender," the not-Batman ordered.

"Certainly," he agreed. He had been edging himself away from the two vigilantes, a pair who seemed confident in their abilities. The back of his book nudged something, and in his head he was able to do the math. "I'll put them down right here," he continued with his cooperation. "Nice and slow, yes?" His knees began to bend. "No need to shoot…"

He was slightly turning his torso to the right, lowering the sack in that hand to the floor. It would block off sight of his gun and if he was fast enough—

"Don't even think about it, just drop it."

A third voice!

Once more, looking behind himself, there was a third vigilante. This one wore a cloak and hood, covered the lower half of their—no, her face much like he did, though she was using darker colors. A trio. What luck. Naturally, she was positioned behind him so she could see where his gun was.

"You lot are a bit on the theatrical side, aren't you?" he commented.

"Take off the goggles and the mask, and then we can get a good look at the 'oh shit' look you have going for you," the second vigilante remarked.

This was bad, very bad. He needed to stall for time, give himself enough that he could figure out a way to get out of this. This was not how he was going to go to jail.

"I hope you don't mind my theatrics," he said. "You have to do a lot in this town to get any attention. I…might have picked the wrong town, you already have someone who leaves clues behind."

"Which makes you the Riddler knockoff, and none of us here are impressed," the second vigilante retorted.

Knockoff. That was something he was not. "Last I checked, he left behind riddles, not clues. There's a difference. Call me Cluemaster. Just another outlaw like yourselves who likes to have a little fun while he's at it. If no one's chasing you, then where's the challenge?"

"We already have our fill with your type. You have five seconds before you get zapped to within an inch of your life if you don't put the backs down," the third vigilante ordered.

Think, damn it, think! Do something, anything. Three eyes all on him, how to get out of their gazes? How to block off sight to pull out a nice little number that would get him out of this?

Luck decided to act in his favorite when a loud boom thundered throughout the city. The unmistakable explosion lit up the night outside of Lucy's, even the not-Batman took her eyes off of him.

Move!

He took off in a run, ducking behind a display case as a blue bolt of electricity struck it. They weren't kidding about zapping him. One hand still clutching a sack reached to his vest and slipped out the number he had been thinking of. His arm clad in red whipped out, a small yet heavy object striking the storefront window ahead of him. A much smaller detonation occurred, one that shattered the glass. With the majority of security already disabled, there was no alarm that went off.

Just a few feet now. Just put on a little bit of speed and…

…and then his legs came together, a bola wrapping around them. Down he went, so close to safety. Cluemaster's eyes snapped downwards, saw the bolas, then quickly whipped upwards to the sight of the not-Batman approaching.

No, this was not how it was going to end.

A second explosive, much like the first was slipped out. He threw it at her, watching as she threw an object at it, something that spun and resembled a bat. His hand quickly went to his goggles and deactivated the night vision. This was just in time as the explosive was struck by the throwing projectile.

Not-Batman flinched, bringing an arm up to shield her face. His hands snatched up the sacks and he practically shot back up, throwing himself out through the open window. Another bolt of electricity followed after him, missing as he took a turn. He was out of sight now, which meant he needed to make good his escape.

That part was according to plan.

The roar of the explosion had jolted the city out of the doldrum it had fallen into. Tonight's patrol was effectively over for now, the Birds of Prey responding.

Oracle had been quick to give them the address, not that you really needed it. Seeing a fire burning in the distance was a pretty good giveaway.

And it was definitely burning.

After checking the scene out, each Bird taking one side of the building to see if there were any injured bystanders, or if people were able to leave the building, it was then decided they needed to go in and make certain everyone was getting out. Which was why Manhunter found herself in a hallway choking with smoke, the heat getting rather uncomfortable.

She had a gas mask on to help filter out the smoke, so she wasn't in any danger of asphyxiation. Starting on the top floor, she worked her way down. The other Birds had also started on the other floors so they could speed up the search-and-rescue.

It was as she was getting to the end of the floor when she heard it. There was a scream, someone shouting for help. Naturally, there was fire burning at the walls when she first heard it. "I got screaming, top floor, south side," Manhunter immediately reported as she pressed forward. She winced as some flames licked at her, the heat becoming unbearable.

She followed the screams until she reached a door. The knob was locked, unfortunately, not to mention hot. It would have burned her had she not been wearing gloves. Seeing no reason to be gentle, Manhunter reared back on one leg and kicked the other as hard as she could. The door shook from the blow, but held firm.

Over and over, she kicked, eventually breaking the lock and door frame, the door swinging inward. Entering what looked to be some sort of apartment, she found it sparsely furnished, but she got the feeling there was a reason for this. So far, every room she had checked on this floor had been empty save for a couple of chairs and the random television. It was like this place was barely used, but it was being used for something..

The screaming was louder though, a female. She must have heard the door getting kicked in because she was now screaming, "I'm in here! You have to help me! Help me!"

Manhunter followed the voice until she reached another door, this one partially opened. Pushing it open, she found the woman laying on a bed mattress, which rested on the floor. There was some discarded clothing, lingerie from the look of it. The woman had painted herself up with too much makeup. Either she was misreading the situation, or this was a sex worker.

A sex worker that had their arms chained to a wall…

Manhunter suddenly found her left arm jerked to her side, pinned to the side of the garage. Turning her head, she saw a bulky, silver device around her wrist, one in which two small bolts moved into place, a locking sound being made.

"That should hold you for now."

She froze. There was no other description for what happened. She stood there, staring at the struggling woman, whose mouth was moving up and down, words coming out that she didn't understand. She couldn't understand.

She couldn't look away from the chains…

"Welcome to your new home. You'll have plenty of company, some of whom you may already know."

There was a cracking sound, one she heard but didn't register. It grew louder with every passing second until it went SNAP!

That snap caused Manhunter to look up, part of the ceiling, naturally burning with fire, was falling down right on top of her.

She never had the chance to move, not that she needed to. Something rammed into her back and Manhunter found herself hurtling forward, crashing to the floor. She grunted from the impact, grimacing as she laid on the floor. She became very aware of an arm wrapped around her waist, something, or rather someone, moving behind her.

"Somebody help me!" the restrained woman shrieked.

Turning her head, Manhunter found Katana kneeling next to her, looking at her blankly. "What are you doing here?" the red-and-white-dressed vigilante asked.

"Watching your back," Katana answered before she stood up. "We need to leave."

"Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea."

Katana then strode over to the mattress, eyeing the struggling woman, the chains rattling from every jerk of her arms. "Hold still," she ordered as she knelt down, grabbing the naked woman's arm so she could eye the keyhole on the restraint.

"Please help me. Please, please, please," the woman continued to beg, her voice a lot more soft than her previous screams.

The sounds of crying were soft, but Kate could hear them as they echoed through the corridor. She wanted to tell whoever it was to stop, but it felt cruel to demand that. They were all stuck in this hell Lock-Up had put them into. Between the bad music and the banging of his nightstick as it rattled it over the cell bars, this was the only other sound she heard. It was so full of despair and sorrow that Kate could feel it working its way into her own head.

There was a click and the restraint came off. Katana worked on the other restraint, picking the lock and freeing the woman. Immediately, the woman kicked her legs, scrambling off of the mattress to grab at her clothes. She didn't put them on so much as she pressed them against her naked body.

"It's time to go!" Katana announced, grimacing at the collapsed doorway. The ceiling falling in had effectively trapped them in here. "Manhunter, we need to find a way out."

Manhunter glanced around them. They were in a room, obviously, but she wasn't certain that if they blew a hole in one of them, that they wouldn't cause more of the structure to collapse. She had the staff to do the job, but what was the point if she caused more of the roof to fall on top of them?

She shook her head. She was just thinking one way. There was another option. Pulling her staff off of her back, she powered it up, pointing its glowing end to the ceiling. Firing it, she blasted a hole right through the roof, sending random bits of debris first sailing upward into the air, and then gravity dropped them back down. She was quick to move out of the way even as Katana shielded the woman.

"Alright, I hope you're ready to grapple out," Manhunter said as she pulled out her grapple. They had their way out, even if the roof was now more unstable. The moment they were out, they could get to street level pretty quickly.

Just as long as their innocent bystander didn't resist them too much.

Sirens shrieked throughout the city. If you peeked down the street, you'd see an orange glow dimly lighting up the night. It stood out from all the reds and greens decorating the city which was a nice change. If you tried, you could even smell the fumes from the fire.

"Do you think enough time has passed?" Ratso asked, glancing to Mugsy and Rhino. Only his eyes were visible through the holes of his mask, hiding his teeth.

Mugsy looked to Rhino, and the larger man pulled his sleeve down, taking the time. "Cops ought to be at the first spot."

Their attention would be where the first bombing was. That meant if something went down, they'd be slow to react or if they could spare anyone, it wouldn't be too much trouble to deal with. That wasn't good enough for Mr. Scarface. That's why he had two guys plant two bombs.

Handling the detonator, Mugsy pressed down on a switch, linking the device with the second bomb. A nice little gadget, that. You didn't need to bring two detonators for two bombs.

"Let's get this party started. Soon as the second one goes, we go in," Mugsy stated, getting nods from the other two.

You know what was more distracting than one bombing? Two bombings. Several streets apart, spread out enough that it would take even more crucial time to get to it. That would keep everyone busy while they pulled off the next heist.

With nothing else needed to be said, Mugsy triggered the second bomb.

Landing on the roof, Batman slowed himself to a stop. First responders were just arriving as well, be it the police, ambulances, and firefighters. One fire engine was parked next to a hydrant, a couple firefighters attaching their hoses to it.

As for the building, it was cloaked in a cloud of black smoke. The occasional flame would burst through it, but it was largely smoke now. Aside from trying to help people trapped in the building, there wasn't much for him to do. From his vantage point, that operation was already in progress. He spotted Manhunter and Katana at ground level, leaving a woman with an ambulance. No doubt Black Canary and Huntress were here as well.

"Oracle, what can you tell me about the bombing?" he asked, activating his comm link.

The hacker responded pretty quickly. "Not much. Initial explosion was approximately fifteen minutes ago. The Birds arrived there a few minutes after. I'm hearing the first responders arriving as well."

"What can you tell me about the building itself? Any reason it could be a target for arson, or if there were reports of disrepair?"

The reason for this question was simple: either this explosion was intentional, or it was the result of a number of poor missteps that culminated in this. Faulty wiring with poor maintenance of the gas line could have caused this.

"Well, it's definitely underutilized," Oracle responded. "Originally it was built to be some sort of store, a small business most likely. The upper floors were converted to be apartments, most likely so that the owners could live there. It's currently a laundromat, tax filings don't show it doing too well."

A laundromat? One that wasn't doing too well? Well, that made for a stronger case for negligence, but it also supported an intentional destruction as perhaps the owner wanted to get an insurance payout. He'd find out which when the fire was put out and a proper investigation could be performed.

"Who owns it?" he then asked.

A couple seconds passed. "I'm not seeing any names, be it individual or a group. There are records of a transaction with ownership being passed, but not to who. Smells like a front to me."

Batman narrowed his eyes. Yeah, he felt the same way Oracle did. This—

Suddenly, another explosion rang out. Jerking his head to his right, Batman caught sight of a fireball rising up into the night's sky, a good distance away from his current location.

What fresh hell was this now?

This Cluemaster was proving to be slipperier than thought. Somehow he evaded Bluebird's taser rifle blasts, or she just had some really bad aim at those moments. He even threw a bomb right for Batgirl, the explosion temporarily blinding her.

And now, he was on a motorcycle, hightailing it from the crime scene. He had hidden it a couple blocks away from the jewelry store, parked between a couple of cars. It was right there in plain sight and now he was riding it down the street.

He was not going to get away.

Heading a block over, the Batclan entered an alleyway, finding two sleek motorcycles parked there. This was how they had gotten here, hiding them as well so that their Riddler-copycat wouldn't be spooked away by them.

Batgirl hopped onto one. Bluebird climbed onto the other, Spoiler joining behind her. Of the three, the lavender-clad vigilante had refused to drive one herself, mostly because she didn't know how, and had been too much of a goodie-two-shoe to learn, or so Bluebird said.

At least Bluebird had been more gung-ho to try. This would have been a major problem if all three of them had tried to ride the same bike.

The twin-engines roared to life and then they were off, turning the corner at the mouth of the alleyway and entering the street.

"Which way is he going?" Batgirl demanded over the comm link.

Spoiler's preference to riding bitch at least came in handy here. In one hand was a tracking device and she was staring right at it. When Batgirl and Bluebird first encountered this Cluemaster, they made certain to keep his attention on them. This allowed Spoiler to toss a tracer into one of the bags of jewelry in the event he managed to escape. It was coming in handy now.

"Up one block, then make a right!" the blonde girl responded. "He made a right on Franklin!"

Heading up that block, they made the turn. Up ahead, there were a few cars driving on the street, a motorcycle weaving its way through the traffic. That had better be him.

Revving the throttle, Batgirl sped up, pulling ahead of the other two vigilantes. Bluebird picked up her pace as well, though slower due to her inexperience with the bike. She would catch up, or at the very least become backup.

Reaching the cars, Batgirl weaved her way through them, her eyes still on the motorcycle up ahead, who then made a left. Quickly reaching that intersection, she made the same left. Up ahead was a T-intersection, which would force her prey to make a left or a right. When they hit that intersection, she would call Spoiler to confirm they were on the right man. The tracer would prove that.

In the meantime, she closed in on the bike, helped out as the rider slowed down to make a right. Alright, now just to—

Suddenly, the building directly in front of her exploded. Eyes widening, Batgirl immediately put on the brakes, turning the bike so that it was perpendicular with the road as she screeched to a stop. Bluebird skidded right up to her as well, having performed the same maneuver.

"What the hell?!" Bluebird exclaimed. "Did he do that?!"

"He better not have," Batgirl growled. Now they had a problem: either they kept after Cluemaster, or they made certain there weren't any casualties within this blown-up building. A fire was now raging around it, catching the neighboring buildings on fire as well.

She knew what she wanted to do; she knew what she had to do, however.

"Is the tracer still working?" the dark-clad girl demanded.

Spoiler looked at the device. "Yeah, it is," she reported.

"Then we need to check this out first, make certain there aren't people hurt inside. She revved the throttle and drove her motorcycle to the closest alleyway to park it. There would be first responders coming eventually and they didn't need to try weaving around a couple of motorcycles parked in the middle of the road.