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Batman and all related characters are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers Entertainment
The Unstoppable Batman
Issue 8: The First Pt. 2
"YAHHHH!" The scream cut through the bar as the six-and-a-half-foot, heavyset goon went flying over the old bar counter. The goon slammed into the mirror and rack of alcohol behind the bar before crashing to the ground, with bottles of booze dropping and shattering all around him.
After throwing the goon over the counter the Batman turned and looked around the run-down bar. Seeing no other patrons rushing to attack him, he stepped toward the center of the barroom stepping over the unconscious or moaning bodies of those who had tried their luck against the vigilante. Batman stopped and asked with a loud growl.
"Would anyone else care to take a swing?" Batman's eyes scanned the room. The remaining patrons were still sitting on their bar stools and at their tables. Still in shock at what had just happened.
The Stacked Deck was one of the oldest bars in Lowerton, and was a favorite haunt of Triton's criminal element. A few moments ago, the bar had been humming with the sounds of the patrons talking, drinking and laughing. Suddenly the lights to the bar flickered and then completely cut out. During the ensuing darkness there were several shouts of surprise and wondering what had just happened. Then the lights came back on.
Standing by the bar was the Batman. The room went completely silent for a moment.
"I'm looking for a man." Batman pulled a large photo from under his cloak and held it up. "The faster one of you can tell me who he is the faster I leave this bar."
After the proclamation five large goons jumped up from their table and confronted the Batman about showing up in 'their' bar. As the first one went to throw a punch at the Batman, suddenly there an explosion of smoke filled that corner of the bar. The rest of the bar watched the smoke and heard sounds of blows landing, cries of pain and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor. As the smoke cleared, they watched as the Batman sent the last goon flying over the bar and into the rack of bottles.
When no one else went to make a move against the vigilante Batman again pulled the photo from his cloak. He then proceeded to walk slowly around the room showing the photo to each person. The photo was clearly taken from a surveillance camera and showed a man in an old ragged painter's coat and messy, greasy hair holding a gun and pointing it at a cashier.
As the Batman showed the photo to the assortment of drunks, criminals and everything in between he watched their faces. Gauging their reactions as they looked at the man in the photo, most either looked at the photo and then shook their heads, a few verbally told the Batman that they didn't recognize him.
Finally, Batman stopped when he showed the picture to a woman sitting at a table with a man. The man looked at the photo and just shook his head. The woman on the other hand looked at the photo and there was a flash of recognition and surprise that came across her face. She quickly tried to regain an impartial look and shook her head much more forcefully than any of the others had.
Batman stopped walking and set the picture down on the table in front of the woman. He then pointed a gloved finger at face of the man in the photo. "Who is he?"
"I… I… I got no idea." The blonde stuttered, doing her best to look anywhere but at the caped figure standing over her. Batman tapped the photo with his finger.
"You're lying." Batman growled. The woman visibly flinched at the words. The man sitting at the table with her tried to but in. He stood up and reached to grab the Batman's arm.
"Hey man, she said she don't know…" The man suddenly felt his wrist twist in an unnatural way before it was slammed down onto the table cracking the old wood. The man let out a painted scream as the Batman continued to hold his wrist in that position, all the while not taking his eyes off of the woman. The woman who was now pleading with the vigilante.
"Please let him go he didn't do nothing." She begged finally looking up at the Batman. She felt the piecing white eyes bore into her own and she gulped. "Please."
"Who is he and where do I find him?" Batman asked. The woman again seemed reluctant to talk to the vigilante, looking back and forth between him and her date who was whimpering in pain from the pressure on his wrist. Batman released the man's wrist and he collapsed to the floor. The woman tried to get up and check on him but she felt a hand firmly, but not harshly, grasp her shoulder to keep her in her seat. Again, she looked up into at the vigilante.
"If you're scared of him, I give you my word you'll be safe." The rough words seemed almost gentle as he said them to her. Then suddenly the growl returned to his voice when he spoke again. "If you're helping him then you're as guilty as he is."
The woman nodded her head in understanding. She pointed a painted nail at the photo on the table and began talking. "I went out with him a few times. Nothing serious just a few drinks and some fun you know. He was liked to brag that he worked for Falcone from time to time, thought that made him sound like a bigshot, I guess. That's all I know I swear."
The woman felt as if she wanted to disappear into the floor as the Batman's gaze seemed to intensify. "His name?"
"Ch… Chi… Chill." She stuttered out. "Joe. Joe Chill."
Batman held the woman's gaze for a moment before gently releasing his grip on her shoulder. He picked up the photo and nodded to the woman in thanks. The vigilante then turned and headed toward the back door of the bar while announcing to the patrons watching him.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Please enjoy the rest of your evening."
Batman then walked out the door and into the alley behind The Stacked Deck. Once the door swung shut behind the vigilante, the bartender had the nerve and curiosity to follow and opened the door to see outside.
But The Batman was gone.
The Cobalt Club was one of the oldest and most high-end lounges in all of Upperton. It was built back in the roaring twenties and the aesthetic of the club had not changed much. Plush leather booths and marble tables, chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, large stage with a big band jazz group playing nightly. A person could mistakenly believe that they had walked into a scene from The Great Gatsby.
At least that's what Batman thought as he peered out at the lounge from one of the air conditioning vents. For a moment Batman watched as the clientele mingled around the room; dancing, drinking, laughing and overall, just having the time of their lives. Batman wondered to himself how many of them actually know who runs the club.
Batman then looked away from the crowd and began to slowly work his way forward through the shaft. The vigilante had been working his way through the vents for almost twenty minutes now. He didn't have access to the building's plans so after getting into the vents from the roof he was essentially crawling around blind. After taking a tight turn to the right Batman was able to hear voices coming from ahead.
As Batman crawled toward the grate ahead of him, he looked down into what seemed to be the owner's office. It was a plush, carpeted office with more old furniture; a couple of leather chairs around an old mahogany desk, a leather couch up against a window that overlooked the club floor that was framed with red velvet drapes, dark red carpet and a couple bookcases with knickknacks displayed and a few books stored on them.
There were five men in the room. Two in pinstriped suits flanked the door to the room. Batman could see that both of them were armed with what appeared to be MAC 10s. There was a short, fat man in a neatly pressed black suit sitting in one of the leather chairs across from the desk. He didn't have any obvious signs of weapons on him just what appeared to be an old umbrella. There was another man in a pinstripe suit standing next to the desk. This one wasn't holding a MAC 10 but Batman could see what looked like a semiautomatic tucked into a shoulder holster.
Finally, was the man that was sitting in the chair behind the desk. He was an old man with grey hair, a neatly trimmed mustache, a neatly pressed Italian suit with a red rose on his left lapel. He sat back comfortably in his chair an air of authority surrounding him. Indeed, Batman judged by the posture and attention the other four gave him that this man was the one in charge. This was Carmine Falcone.
"So, what do you have to say for yourself Oz?" Falcone asked to the fat man sitting across from him, while he pulled a cigar from an ornate box on the desk.
"Carmine." Oz began before noticing the stern look on the older man's face. Oz grumbled under his breath for a moment before correcting himself. "Mr. Falcone, I don't know where these slanderous rumors about me and my boys are coming from, but I assure they are completely unfounded."
"Really." Falcone said as he snipped the end of the cigar and put it in his mouth. "Because I would be truly disheartened to know that one of my good friends was trying to horn in on one of my businesses."
"I assure you sir. Trying to steal business from you, or compete with your operations are the furthest thing from my mind." Oz answered. While the two men were talking Batman had been working on unscrewing the grate and was ready to drop a couple of smoke bombs down into the room. As he finished with the last screw the grate came loose and before the vigilante could get a better grip on it, it fell.
The grate crashed down on top of Oz with a loud clang and a scream of pain from the pudgy man.
'Nice one Ron.' Batman thought to himself as he quickly threw the smoke bombs he had ready into the room. One exploded in front of the men with the MAC 10s, the other exploded atop Falcone's desk.
"What the hell!" Batman head Falcone scream as the room quickly filled with smoke. Batman dropped down and landed on the floor with a barely audible thud. The five men were now looking around blindly in the smoke trying to figure out what was happening. Batman sprinted toward the two guards by the door.
When he got close enough to barely make out the form of the two men by the door Batman leaped forward and threw a devastating haymaker at the jaw of the one on his right. The man let out a loud cry of pain as Batman's fist connected. The man spun around from the impact and slammed into the wall behind him and slid to the floor unconscious.
Batman quickly turned to make out the form of the other gunman turning and seeming to aim his weapon at the sounds of his friend's pain. Batman's hand shot out and grabbed the wrist of the man's gun arm and twisted. Batman heard a loud pop, then the man screamed and then the sound of the gun clattering to the floor was heard. Batman then then proceeded to drive a hard punch into the man's abdomen causing him to bend over in pain. Batman finished with a roundhouse kick to the man's head, sending him to the floor unconscious.
Suddenly Batman heard the sound of gunshots and then the sound of wood splintering as bullets whizzed past him and imbedded into the door and wall next to him. The last guard was firing blindly into the smoke hoping to hit the unseen threat that he had heard attacking the other two. Batman ducked down low and quickly made his way toward the shooter. After getting halfway across the room he heard a loud clicking followed by a curse from the guard. He was out of ammo.
Batman rose to his full height and sprinted at the shooter as he was trying to reload his weapon. Batman came to him as he was just about to slide the fresh magazine into the weapon. Batman swept his arm and slapped the weapon and magazine out of the guard's hand. He then proceeded to yank him forward by his shirt and drove his knee into the man's stomach. As the man doubled over grunting in pain, Batman brought an elbow down on the back of the man's head. He then grabbed the man and twisted his body around and threw the man toward the wall.
Or that was the plan.
Instead Batman threw the guard through the window that was overlooking the club. The man went through and crashed onto the dancefloor of the club. Landing on one of the patrons. The crowd having heard the shots being fired seconds ago and now noticing that there was smoke pouring out of the window that was now broken began screaming and making their way toward the exits.
Back in the office the air was beginning to clear as the smoke made its way out through the broken window. Batman turned toward Falcone, sitting with a shocked expression on his face behind his desk, and the pudgy man who was now down on the floor rubbing the back of his head. Batman began slowly making his way over to Falcone doing his best to look as tall and intimidating as he could.
As Batman was making his way over to the old gangster Falcone came out of his shocked state and looked incredulously at the vigilante now making his way toward him. "What the hell do you think you're trying to pull here."
Batman stopped just in front of the irate gangster, removed the photo of Joe Chill from his belt and held it before the gangster. "Where is he?"
Falcone became even more frustrated at hearing the demand that Batman had phrased as a question. "What?"
"Joe Chill." Batman said his face and voice steady, not betraying the anger and frustration that was churning inside of him. "He's worked or you several times in the past. I want to know how to find him."
"This is a bad joke right." Falcone stood up in anger, shoving his chair back a few feet. Falcone's eyes burned into the Batman's white eyes. "You think you can just come in here, trash my office, beat the hell outta my men and I'm just gonna tell you whatever you wanna know."
Falcone then poked Batman's chest with his index finger. "You know you just signed your own death warrant dontcha?"
Falcone face suddenly twisted in pain and a loud piercing scream came out of his mouth. Batman had grabbed the finger that Falcone had poked him with and bent it back in a way that fingers were not meant to bend. The mobster stopped screaming and dropped down to one knee, while the Batman still kept hold of his hand.
"Where is Chill?" Batman asked again.
Falcone through gritted teeth began to threaten again. "Do you have any idea who I am? What I do in this city? The friends that I have? You think you gonna get away with this…"
Falcone was cut off as Batman bent another finger back, this time with an audible crack coming from the digit. Falcone screamed again and tried to grab at the Batman with his free hand but the vigilante was too quick. In an instant Falcone was face down on the ground with his arm twisted behind his back and the Batman standing over him.
"Carmine Falcone. The man that runs most of the organized crime in Triton. I know who you are and what you do. I don't care. And your friends aren't here… I am!" Batman barked as he broke another of Falcone's fingers. The mobster let out another scream as he turned his head in an attempt to look at Batman.
Falcone managed to get a look at the vigilante whose rage was beginning to peak through his stoic façade. And suddenly Falcone's bravado completely evaporated. The man began to cry in pain and fear while trying to answer the vigilante. "I don't know where this Chill guy is. I don't even know who he is. I don't know who my guys hire for jobs most of the times. I swear I don't know anything about this guy."
Batman looked down at the sputtering, whimpering gangster whose face was now covered in tears and mucus from crying. Batman then noticed the growing wet spot on the floor under the gangster. Batman was surprised but didn't show it on his face. 'Did he just lose control of his bladder? This is the guy that runs the mob in Triton?"
Batman let go of Falcone's arm and the old man curled into the fetal position and began rocking himself back and forth. Batman stepped over the mobster and headed toward the window intending to jump down to the club floor and leave from there. As Batman made it to the frame and was preparing to leap down, he could hear Falcone muttering threats about how he would have his friends take care of Batman. Suddenly Batman heard a loud crunch, like metal slamming into bone. Batman whipped around, prepared for an attack, but was shocked to see the attack wasn't directed at him.
Falcone was still on the ground and still breathing but he was now unconscious and had a nasty head wound. Oz was standing over Falcone holding a walking stick with a brass globe on the end. The globe had blood on it, clearing up any small trace of doubt about what may have happened.
"Ha! Serves you right ya old tosser." Oz laughed at the unconscious gangster. Suddenly the stick was knocked from his hand as a shuriken struck it. Oz jumped back for a moment before directing his attention to the vigilante. Oz then raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, easy Mr. Bat. Just giving the old man something been coming to him for many, many years now."
Batman narrowed his eyes at the pudgy man. "If you think I'm going to just let you kill him you're mistaken."
Oz placed a hand over his heart and acted shocked at the accusation. "Sir, the thought would never even occur to me."
Batman continued to glare at him and Oz then laughed dropping his mocking tone. "Alright, alright. Just wanted to give him a little something that I figured I could pin on you. Personally, I'd love to put the old man six feet into the ground. But frankly I ain't in a position to deal with the fallout from his bosses."
Batman raised an eye at that. "Bosses? Falcone is the one that runs the mob in Triton."
Oz laughed again. "Oh please. You saw what a blubbery little mess he turns into the second an actual threat comes along. The only reason that he runs this town is because he has powerful friends looking out for him."
Batman looked down at the unconscious, wet gangster and then back to Oz as he continued.
"Now as to why you're here I just might be able to assist you. You said you're looking for a man named Joe Chill." Batman nodded. "Well just so happens I'm a bit of a people person, lotsa friends in this town, and I'm sure that I can find the bloke for ya."
"And why would you be willing to do this." Batman asked.
"I'm a helpful bloke." Batman narrowed his eyes at the answer. Oz shrugged and grinned showing a set of teeth that looked as if they hadn't seen a dentist in years.
"Fine. I heard how you been tearing apart the town the last week and frankly that's bad for everyone's business. Figure if the cost of getting you to calm down some is giving you some bottom feeder that's a small price to pay."
Batman thought it over for a moment before responding. "Where do I meet you?"
"My bar down in the bowery. The Ice Box. Lovely little dive. I'll be sure to set you up a tab." Oz continued. "I should have your boy's location by tomorrow night."
Batman turned back to the window and set his foot on the sill before turning back to the pudgy man and narrowing his eyes. "If this is a trap. It won't end well for you."
Oz grinned and held up a hand. "No worries lad. The word of Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot is as good as gold."
Batman then turned and leaped out the window. Oswald Cobblepot walked over to the window and looked out to see the Batman was gone. Then he looked up as a team of SWAT officers broke into the building. The patrons had called the authorities about the gunfire and smoke. Cobblepot looked back at the unconscious men in the room with him. "Mmh wish I could pull off that disappearing act."
Ron laid back on his bed staring up at the ceiling, his mind was pouring over the events of last night. His mind kept going back to Cobblepot's offer and wondering if it was wise to accept the criminals offer. He wasn't thrilled about it but it was the best lead on finding Chill that he had managed to find so far. Ron closed his eyes and started to meditate.
Master Sensei had taught him a technique that would allow him to substitute a full night's rest for about an hour or so of meditation. Ron had been using that technique every night since the night of the murder when he had let Chill escape. Ron had tried to sleep normally a few times but each time his dreams were filled with Elizabeth. He had learned the woman's name from the news reports. Visions of her cold lifeless body looking at him and then speaking. Asking him why he had let her killer walk away. Why he didn't stop him? Why he didn't save her?
Ron centered himself and tried to focus on recuperating when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. Ron opened his eyes and began to sit up as he heard his father's voice coming from the other side of the door.
"Ronald, I need to speak with you."
Ron repositioned himself so that he was sitting on the side of his bed before responding. "Okay, come on in."
Thomas opened up the door to his son's room, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Thomas then walked over to his son's desk and pulled the chair over so that he could sit down facing his son. After sitting down and adjusting his glasses Thomas began.
"Okay son, what's going on?" Ron looked away from his father and over at Rufus. The mole rat had been napping on the desk but now was sitting up and paying rapt attention to the father and son's conversation. Ron now had a fairly good idea what had brought this conversation on.
"I… don't know what you mean Dad." Ron replied.
"Something has been bothering you for the last week or so now." Thomas clarified. "Would you like to share what it is that's making you so upset?"
Ron turned back to his father and simply shrugged. "Nothing's bugging me. What makes you think something is."
Thomas leaned forward toward his son a bit. "For the last week you've barely said a dozen words to your mother and me. We've caught you sitting on the couch pretending to watch tv but you're clearly just staring off into nothing. The school called and said you've missed turning in every assignment that you had due this week, and you'd been doing so well getting you grades and school work up this year."
"Now look son. I understand that being a senior in high school can be stressful and that just being a teen is as well. That's why your mother and I have been letting it go this last week, we were hoping you'd work your way out of this, whatever it is. But then we got the call from the school… and we got a call from Anne."
Ron felt his body go rigid at hearing Mrs. Dr. Possibles name. Ron had a knew exactly what she had most likely told his parents.
"You wanna talk about what happened between you and your friends at school today?" Thomas asked.
Ron furrowed his brow in frustration. "Not really, no."
Thomas opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off. "Look, I've just had a really bad week. Is there some rule that says I'm not allowed to have some times where I'm in a bad mood just because."
"Having a down day is one thing Ronald. Exploding at your friends is something else."
Ron exhaled in frustration as memories of this afternoon flooded back into his brain.
The day had started off like every other school day that week. Ron had drifted through his classes not having his assignments done and was barely paying attention to anything that his instructors or other students were saying. Eventually lunch came and Ron mechanically grabbed a tray of food and plopped down in a seat next to Felix and Kim at their usually table. Anytime a question was directed at him he just gave a quick one- or two-word response.
Finally, Kim, Monique and Felix began questioning him about what was going on and why he was acting so weird. Ron denied acting any stranger than he normally did and it ended up turning into a rather heated back and forth. After a few minutes of this Ron had finally snapped and told them all that they should mind their own damn business along with a few other choice phrases and expletives. After that he had stormed out of the lunchroom and almost broke the door as he slammed his way through it.
On the walk home after school Kim had been waiting for Ron as usual. But Ron decided to nip the long walk and conversation in the bud. When Kim mentioned that she thought that they should talk about what happened at lunch. Ron had told her that he didn't intend to talk about it and that she could go jump in a creek.
Though, his word choice had not been so polite at the time.
"Ron something is clearly bothering you." Thomas voice broke through Ron's memories and brought him back to the present. His father was now leaning back in the chair and giving his son a worried look. "I know you might not want to talk about it but the way you've been acting… something needs to change."
Ron took in a breath and slowly exhaled. "Look I get that I probably shouldn't have snapped at Kim and the other like I did. I admit that was my fault for how I handled that. But is it really that big a deal. So, I've had an off week what's wrong with that?"
"It's one thing to be having an off week. It's another to take your frustration out on people who haven't done anything to you."
Ron bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew that his father was correct but he didn't really feel like hearing it at the moment. Ron looked back at his father.
"What's going on son?" Thomas asked. Ron closed his eyes for a moment racking his brain, trying to come up with something to tell his father that wouldn't raise too much suspicion or risk revealing his secret. Ron quickly decided on a path to take.
"How many people do you think died before Kim and I got there to save them?" The room was silent for a moment, Thomas having a shocked look on his face. Whatever he had expected his son to say, this wasn't it.
"What are you talking about?" Thomas asked. Ron sighed. Maybe this wasn't the best choice but Ron thought that it was a way to be at least a little honest about what was bothering him without telling his father everything.
"When Kim and I would get called to go help with some natural disaster or with some supervillain that was threatening the world, we'd go in do our job and then just come home like we had set everything right in the world." Ron began. "But what about people that were hurt or killed before we even got there. I mean Kim and I helped with wildfires, avalanches, collapsing building and a couple of sinking ships at sea. And yeah, we helped save a lot of people but what about the ones who we didn't. People that the fires got to or that part of a building collapsed on before we were even on the scene."
Thomas stood up from the chair and sat down on the bed next to his son, placing a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "Ronald, you said it yourself those deaths would have happened before you and Kim were on the scene. There would have been nothing that the two of you could have done."
"What if I'd been faster?" Ron continued. "What if I'd gotten there a few seconds earlier? What if I'd been able to get them medical attention sooner? What if I had gone straight to the victims instead of trying to take out the bad guy? What if…"
Thomas cut his son off. "Ronald, you can't keep asking yourself things like that. If you let yourself get caught up on all the things that you could have done differently you are going to drive yourself crazy. You can't change the past son. All you can do is try and learn from the mistakes that you've made and try to improve in the future."
Thomas was quiet for a moment before asking. "Did you find out that someone died before you and Kim arrived to help out on one of your old missions?"
Ron muttered under his breath. "Something like that yeah."
"I'm sorry to hear that son." Thomas sighed. "I can understand how finding out something like that could weigh on you. But you can't let that change who you are or how you treat other people."
"I get it I've been a jerk. I'll work on it I promise. But it's not like I'm a different person, you know. I'm still the same Ron inside." Ron sighed in frustration, wanting the conversation to be over. Ron felt his father give his shoulder a gentle but firm squeeze.
"Son it's not who you are underneath, it's what you do that defines who you are." Ron looked up at his father questioningly. "It's something your grandfather once told me. A lot of people think that they're good people on the inside, but what matters is our actions and how we treat people and the world around us that matters most."
Ron nodded. "Okay that makes sense, I guess. I'll apologize to Kim tomorrow. Monique and Felix too."
"Good to hear that." Thomas stood up and gave his son a comforting smile before heading over to the bedroom door. "I'm hope this talked helped you some son."
Ron nodded in agreement and his father left the room, closing the door behind him. Ron let out another sigh and laid back down on the bed. His father's words rattled around in his head for a few minutes before he closed his eyes to try and get some rest. Slowly his father's words slipped to the back of his mind and the same images and thoughts that had been haunting him for the last week returned.
He took a deep breath and did his best to rest while waiting for night to fall.
"I have to admit I thought that the Bat would lose it sooner than this." Will Due stated as he took a drink of stale coffee while perusing the file in front of him. Detective Fillmore looked up from his own file and gave the Global Justice agent a questioning look.
"How is that?" The detective asked. Due grimaced from the bitter taste in his mouth that he still had not grown used to these past few weeks, and set his cup on the desk. He then gestured to the stack of files that had been, somewhat, neatly piled on the side of the desk.
"Criminals like him inevitably devolve as they commit their crimes." Due explained. "Look in the beginning he was skilled but made some mistakes. Then as the weeks went on, we saw that he was getting better and better at leaving less evidence at the scenes. He evolved and got better. Now he's devolving, getting sloppier and more brazen with his attacks. This is because all of his success has gone to his head, made the vigilante feel untouchable. I mean he's been storming night clubs and bars and beating people senseless. This spiral will continue and soon he'll be attacking citizens who aren't criminals."
Due finished his explanation and sat back in his chair and looked at the coffee cup. He was beginning to wonder if he should invest in bringing a coffee maker and beans of his own down to the station. But Due somehow felt as if that would be like setting down roots and he still planned to be out of the station as quickly as he could be.
"Really? That's your take on it." Due looked up at the detective who was cleaning the lenses of his glasses with a cloth. Fillmore lifted them up to inspect them in the light and then, finally satisfied, put his glasses back on. "Because I have a very different take."
Due fought the urge to roll his eyes. This had happened to him before. Rookie cop thinks he saw something that the seasoned veteran missed and thinks that he can break the case with his theory. In the back of his mind Due was almost looking forward to shooting holes in the detective's theory.
"And what might your take be?" Fillmore picked up one of the files that he had been reading and passed it over to the agent. Due looked over the file for a moment before giving the detective another questioning glance. "A bodega robbery and homicide from a week ago? What about it?"
"Read the witness statement. According to the store clerk, one Desi Lopez, when the Batman came into the store after the shooting the Batman seemed to be completely poised and in control. Same as he had been during the other events he intervened in. He checked on the clerk, took stock of his injury and told him to call for help. Everything that you would expect a calm in control person to do in the situation."
"But then, Batman finds the woman dead with the baby still in her arms. There was security footage of him rushing over and picking up the baby and trying to see if the mother was alive. Unfortunately, she wasn't. Afterward the Batman goes and gives the baby to the clerk and tells him to stay with her until the ambulance and police arrive. Batman then storms out of the store and breaks the door, nearly taking it clean off the hinges."
"Your point is?" Due interrupted wanting to hurry the detective along. Fillmore's forehead furrowed in frustration at being interrupted.
The detective continued. "My point is that Batman storming out of that bodega and breaking that door was the first time that he has done something that seemed out of control or impulsive. Right after he found that dead woman and her child. What does that say to you Agent Due?"
The Global Justice Agent remained silent and simply waited for the detective to continue. And with a sigh Fillmore then asked a question.
"Agent Due, do you remember the first time you dealt with a death." Due face lit up in surprise for a moment upon hearing the question. "And not just having a family member or friend pass. I mean on the job. That first time was it a murder? A car accident? Industrial accident? When was the first time that you saw someone die when they shouldn't have?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Due asked.
"I remember mine." Fillmore said leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, remembering. "In fact, it was robbery homicide as well. Gas Station, bout three in the afternoon. Couple kids came in looking to make some quick cash and grab some cigarettes. Ended up shooting the clerk and running. I can still remember every detail of that scene as if I just saw it."
Fillmore opened his eyes again and looked at Due. "My point being that the first time has a way of staying with you."
The detective's words bounced around Due's skull for a few seconds before they sank in. "You think this woman's death was the first for Batman."
"I do." Fillmore nodded and then grabbed a group of papers that he had bundled together and handed them over to Due. "And take a look at the statements we got from the people from those bars and clubs that were willing to talk to us. I highlighted something they all had in common."
Due quickly scanned the statements and found what the detective was talking about. "The Batman was looking for someone in particular and had a photograph he was showing them."
"I'm going to guess this is the photo." Fillmore held up a photo. It was from the bodega's security camera, showing the killer. And while neither the detective or agent could know it was indeed the same picture that Batman had been using. "It's a security still that was released to the public the day after the shooting, trying to get someone to identify him."
"This is who he's looking for." Due said under his breath, more to himself than to Detective Fillmore.
"Yeah. This is the guy who killed that woman. Killed her while she was still holding her baby. That was the Bat's first. And like I said that first one stays with you." Fillmore finished his explanation.
Due mulled it over in his mind before standing up and folding up the picture before putting it in his pocket. He then nodded to the detective. "I underestimated you Detective… Again."
Fillmore cracked a small grin. "Don't worry about it."
"Well then since we know who the Batman is after. What say we try and beat him to the punch." Due said patting the photo in his pocket before turning to head toward the elevators. Fillmore stood up, grabbed his jacket and began following the agent.
"Order! Order!" The speaker's voice boomed out from the podium in front of the large gathered crowd. The crowd had been in an uproar since the meeting began and no one could understand anything that anyone else was saying. The crowd finally died down and the chamber became almost eerily silent. Amongst the crowd the Possibles and Stoppables were seated next to each other.
"Now, we are here to discuss new developments in the Batman situation." The crowd almost erupted back into shouts but the speaker raised his hand to keep them silent. He then pointed to a man in the crowd who the speaker had noticed was particularly vocal and animated during the uproar. "You."
"I think it's clear there's no longer any question about what should be done about the Batman." The man said. "Before when he was just smacking a round a few muggers a night it was one thing. But this last week he has been tearing his way through Lowerton."
"He's still been going after criminals. What's the big deal." Another man cut in.
"He's going in and tearing apart businesses. Words been getting around that even people who were supporting this guy are starting to turn." A woman replied.
"And it's not just dive bars and crack houses that he's raiding." Another man shouted in anger while standing up and showing the crowd his left arm which was in a cast. "I was at the Cobalt Club last night when the Batman threw a man through a window and onto the dance floor. I was on that floor and he landed on top of me!"
"Agreed." Another voice. "I was leaning toward leaving the Bat alone last meeting but with what's been happening the last few nights, I've changed my opinion. We need to do something about him soon."
The crowd began jumping in with their opinions again and soon the chamber was filled with the sounds of shouting. Martha Stoppable pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, then noticed a hand offering her an aspirin. She took the pill from Anne Possible and quickly took it. "Thanks Anne."
"You're welcome, Martha." Anne replied as she took a pill of her own and tired her best to focus on talking to her friend over the sounds of the shouting.
James Possible shook his head in frustration, a headache of his own quickly coming on from the yelling. "Why exactly are we here for this? I mean it's not like they needed us for this discussion. If you can even call it that."
"Because John made it clear that attendance was mandatory." Thomas Stoppable spoke up, barely audible over the large man that was shouting his opinion right next to him.
James grumbled to himself for a moment, knowing that Thomas was right. "I hope Kimmie Cub is having an easy… well, relatively easy time watching the boys."
"Speaking of which Thomas spoke with Ronald about what happened at lunch." Martha told the Possibles.
"Did Ron say what it was that set him off? That certainly isn't like him." Anne asked.
Thomas shook his head. "Not exactly, but he did say that he would apologize to Kim and the others and that he knows he was in the wrong."
"That's good." James nodded. "By the way what's Ron up to tonight? Kim was thinking of inviting him over to hang out tonight while we're here."
"Ron said that he was pretty tired so he was probably just going to head to bed early tonight." Martha answered, raising her voice to be heard over the increasing volume of the crowd.
"Lucky him." Thomas said as brought his hands up to block out some of the sound. He had a bad feeling that they wouldn't be getting out of there anytime soon.
Oswald Cobblepot sat at an old metal desk in the back office of his bar, the Ice Box, counting up cash. The large man neatly stacked the bills up, made a note in his books, wrapped the stack with a rubber band and then stuffed them in an old iron safe next to his desk. As he worked his eyes kept glancing over at the bank of surveillance monitors, scanning for any signs of the guest that he was expecting that night. Finally, Cobblepot placed that last stack of bills into the safe, closed it and spun the lock. Then he sat back up straight in his chair and let out a startled cry.
Somehow Batman had made his way through the Ice Box, past all the patrons and security cameras, without being noticed and was now standing menacingly in front of Cobblepot's desk.
Cobblepot jumped back, the legs of his chair scrapping across the cheap tile of the floor, and covered his mouth to muffle his scream. It took a few seconds for Cobblepot to recover from the shock. When he did the short man went from being shocked to being annoyed.
"What the bloody hell are ya tryin ta pull?" Cobblepot asked, almost yelling but keeping his cool as best he could. "You wanna give me a bloody heart attack?"
Batman said nothing for a moment, then said a single word. "Chill."
Cobblepot grumbled under his breath before scooting his chair back to its original position. He then reached into the top side drawer of the desk pulling out a single folded piece of paper. Cobblepot held it out to the vigilante, who quickly took it from him. Batman opened the piece of paper and read what was written.
"Got his address easy enough." Cobblepot said as he pulled a cheap cigar out of the desk and lit it. "But I also learned that Mr. Chill has been looking to get out of town for some time now and make himself disappear. He's been knocking over stores to get the capital for this little trip. Seems he's got a meeting tonight with some less than reputable folks who are gonna help him with that. I put the location of that meeting in there for ya as well."
Batman folded the paper back up and placed it in a pouch on his belt. "Thanks Oswald."
"My pleasure, as long as it gets ya to ease up on tearing half the joints in this town apart." Cobblepot responded taking a long drag from his cigar.
"Is that so I don't happen to tear apart your bar and find those cases of automatic weapons you have stashed in the walk-in freezer." Batman asked.
Cobblepots eyes grew wide and he dropped his cigar from his lips and into his lap. He hurriedly snatched it up before it burned him and set it in an ashtray. "Oh, you found those did ya."
"I did." Batman said his face and mask betraying no emotion. "But since you gave me the information that I needed, I've decided I won't be contacting the police about them."
Cobblepot blinked for a moment before laughing. "Well, that's much appreciated. Good to know you're the kind of man that I could see meself doing business with in the future."
Batman turned and headed toward the door of the office. As he opened the door to leave the vigilante turned his head to look at Cobblepot one last time. And a small grin spread across his face. "I said I wouldn't call the police. I didn't say I'd let you keep them."
And with that Batman walked through the door and it closed behind him.
Cobblepot stood up and began quickly walking toward the door shouting. "What's that supposed to mean ya bloody…"
However, as Cobblepot's hand grabbed the door handle, he was cut off by the thunderous sound of an explosion and he felt the building shake. Cobblepot was barely able to keep on his feet as his eyes widened in realization. He flung the door open and ran out into the bar, he saw the patrons as well as the bar tender and kitchen staff fleeing out the front of the bar. Cobblepot ran back into the kitchen and saw that the door to the walk-in freezer was blown open and was hanging on only one hinge.
Cobblepot looked inside and saw that where once there had been shelves of frozen goods and some chilled alcohol along with several crates of automatic weapons, there was now nothing but smoke and ash. The metal shelves were still standing but there were pieces of the crates of weapons and the weapons themselves lying all over the freezer and some pieces were even embedded into the wall.
Cobblepot gritted his teeth in anger before yelling out. "The bloody bat bastard!"
Joe Chill nervously glanced around as he entered The Stacked Deck. He saw that the dimly lit bar was packed with the usual patrons; crooks, creeps and crazies. Chill pulled the brim of his cap down and flipped up the collar of his old coat to hide his face as he made his way through the throng of people. Ordinarily Chill would walk right into the bar and feel right at home amongst the crowd, however he was aware that the Batman had raided the bar just last night looking for him. And so, he thought some of the crowd might have some objections to his being present.
But that was the reason that Chill had chosen The Stacked Deck for this meeting. Since the Bat had already been here last night, what were the odds that he would show up here again tonight.
Chill made his way toward the back of the bar mumbling half hearted apologies to anyone that he happened to brush up against as he made his way. Finally, he came to a booth at the back of the barroom that was occupied by a single person. An older gentleman in a tweed suit, with salt and pepper hair.
"You Teague?" Chill asked, the man nodded as he took a sip of his beer.
"I am. I assume that you are the illustrious Mr. Chill." Teague asked as Chill slid down into the seat opposite of the man and gave him a quick nod.
"You have it?" Chill asked continuing to look around the room nervously. Teague pulled a manila envelope out of his jacket and set it down on the table in front of him.
"Fake IDs, plane tickets and accommodations under your new nom de guerre. I even threw in a list of some helpful hints to keep yourself off the radar of the police…" Teague tapped a finger on the envelope. lowered his voice and gave a knowing stare to Chill. "…Or anyone else that might be looking for you."
Chill nodded and quickly tried to reach out and grab the envelope. Teague quickly slammed his hand down on top of the package to prevent Chill from taking it, "The payment?"
Chill nodded and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a large bundle of cash, haphazardly put together and bound with an old rubber band. Chill handed it over to Teague who proceeded to remove the band and began counting out the bills. After a moment he finished counting, then recounted the money to make sure. Chill began to fidget in his seat.
"It's all there man." Chill said anxiously. Teague rebound the money and stuck it in his pocket.
"Yeah, that's a good down payment. But I'm afraid I'm gonna be needing more than what we originally discussed." Teague informed Chill, giving him a smile that showed that the man had not been to a dentist in nearly a decade.
Chill nearly yelled at the man but caught himself before he did. He glanced around the bar and saw that no one was paying them any attention before turning an angry look back to Teague. "What the hell are you talking about? That was what we agreed on in full. You didn't say shit about a down payment."
"That's true but that was also before I found out that it's more than just the Triton PD that you're running from." Teague said gesturing to the shattered mirror behind the bar, remnants of the Batman's visit last night. Chill pulled off his cap and ran a nervous hand through his hair before placing the cap back on.
"I don't have anything else. That's all I got." Chill pleaded. Teague simply shrugged.
"Well maybe you can knock over a couple more stores to get the rest." Teague laughed as his statement. "I'll meet you back here tomorrow for, mmh, let's say another couple grand."
Chill opened his mouth to argue, but suddenly the lights in the bar began to flicker. Chill, Teague and the rest of the patrons all looked up at the lights in confusion for a moment. One of the tipsy regulars even shouting to the bar owner. "Hey, Harry you forget to pay the light bill again?"
Suddenly the lights cut out completely, causing the crowd to erupt into the confused and frustrated shouting. Chill could hear Teague mumbling about what a pain it was going to be to find his way out in the dark. Chill didn't know why but he had an ominous sense of dread coming over him, the same feeling that was creeping over several others in the bar that happened to be in there last night.
After about twenty seconds of darkness the lights blinked back on. Chill was momentarily blinded as his eyes had to adjust back to the light after just getting used to the darkness. As his vision was returning, he heard the confused voices of the crowd quickly die down until it was silent as a tomb. Chill began to make out blurred figures slowly parting and backing away from a figure standing in the center of the bar. And as the figure came into shape Chill felt his blood run cold.
It was the Batman.
The cloaked figure stood at the center of the bar, his head slowly turning taking in the sight of everyone around him. Suddenly the Batman stopped when he saw Chill sitting in the back booth. Chill wanted to get up and try to bolt for the door, but with the crowd of people he wasn't sure that he would make it.
Then Chill saw it. A kid probably no more than twenty or so with a shaved head and a wifebeater and jeans on made his way up behind the Batman and aimed a gun at the back of the vigilante's head. For a moment everything in the bar stood still and then in one swift act the Batman flourished his cape and spun around to face the would-be killer. Chill couldn't see what happened next but there was an audible snap that filled the bar, followed by the sound of the kid's scream and finally the sound of a gunshot ringing out.
And that was when the chaos truly erupted.
Batman slammed a knee into the face of the man that had just tried to shoot him as the crowd began to panic and swirl around him. Batman turned to where he saw Chill and was able to see the killer had gotten out of the booth and was trying to make his way to the rear exit of the building. Batman began trying to make his way through the crowd, most of whom were giving the vigilante a wide berth, but was stopped when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head.
Batman fell forward but stayed on his feet, he heard the sound of cracking wood and saw splinters of wood and a larger piece fall to the ground. He turned to see a man in a leather vest holding a now broken pool cue. As the man opened his mouth to try and say something, a threat or a plea, he was silenced by a swift and hard punch to the jaw.
The man fell backward on to the ground and Batman turned to continue after Chill, then jumped backward barely missing the wild haymaker that was hurled at him. The attacker, a large fat man who had almost a foot and a hundred pounds on the vigilante, was momentarily throw off balance by the miss. That was all the Batman needed. The Batman drove his foot into the side of the man's knee causing it to bend unnaturally. As the man began to drop down and let out a scream he was met with a kick to his face, followed hard left across his jaw. Then the large man hit the ground unconscious.
Batman whirled around and saw that there were a few other men ready to take their shot at the vigilante. However, it seemed that the sight of the large man being taken down so readily had caused them to think twice. Batman stepped toward the back of the bar where he saw Chill pushing his way through the rear exit along with a few other people.
"Either take your shot or move." Batman growled at the men as he made his way past them. Most of the men stepped back, no longer wanting to take on the cloaked figure. Except for one. Another young man in his twenties in a tracksuit pulled out a switch blade and decided to try and stab at the vigilante's back.
This worked as well as the gunman's attempt had. With the Batman again quickly turning, catching the man's knife hand mid thrust and quickly turning and snapping the wrist. The knife clattered on the floor, and before the man could let out a cry of pain, he was silenced by a fierce uppercut that sent him sprawling to the floor and into dreamland. Batman then whirled around and ran toward the exit.
Batman burst through the door and out into the back alley. Batman turned both ways and saw people making their way out of both ends but he couldn't make out Chill among them. Feeling a wave of anger coming over him, the vigilante pulled out his grappling gun and quickly fired it up onto the roof of the building next to him and winched himself up. He climbed onto the roof and was mentally cursing himself.
'Damn it Ron! You had him! And he got away AGAIN!' Batman thought as he let out a harsh breath before taking a slow deep breath and tried to center himself as Master Sensei had taught him. 'Focus. I can still find him. He got away here but I still have his address. Odds are he'll try and head back there to hideout. I hope.'
And with that thought Batman pulled out the address that Cobblepot had given him and read it. He then mentally went over where that would be in the city, Ron had been studying maps of Triton so that he would be able to know where any place that he might need to go would be. He then turned and began running across the rooftop before leaping to another.
He continued this for several minutes; running across rooftops, leaping over alleyways and swinging over streets. Finally, after several minutes the Batman came to a stop on a rooftop across from a rundown apartment complex. Batman looked down and saw a man rushing into the entrance of the building. Batman recognized that it was Chill immediately.
Batman prepared to jump down and follow but then a different idea came to him. Instead, Batman remembered the apartment number that was on the paper Cobblepot had given him, 3E. Quickly Batman fired his grapnel and swung around to the building on the opposite side of the complex. Batman then perched on the edge of the roof and watched the windows for each floor on the third floor. There was an old man sitting and reading in a chair in one window, in another a couple were watching tv and cuddling on the couch.
The third window was dark but after a moment a light flipped on. And into the room Batman could see Chill enter. Batman saw that Chill was yelling something, something that he could not hear from outside the window. Though Batman didn't waste time worrying about it. Instead, he fired his grapnel at the roof of the apartment, gauged the distance and then leaped off the roof swinging in an arc toward the window.
Batman swung boots first into the window, shattering the glass and landing on his feet on the old wooden floor boards. Batman glared at Chill who was frozen in shock at the sight of the demonic looking vigilante flying through his window. As the fragments of glass were still falling to the floor Batman leaped forward and slammed a fist into Chill's jaw. Then delivered three hard body blows to the criminal before delivering another punch to his face. Chill collapsed to the floor breathing hard in fear and pain.
"Wait, please I…" Chill begged trying to get back up to his feet. A steel toed boot to his face quickly sent Chilling back to the floor.
"You're actually begging?" Batman growled. His voice sounding like something from a child's nightmare. "Tell me something?"
Batman grabbed Chill by his collar and hoisted him up to meet his gaze. Terror was etched on Chill's face as Batman asked, "Did the woman you killed beg?"
As the question registered on Chill's face Batman turned and threw Chill through the air sending him crashing into an old end table. As Chill scrambled to get to his feet, he felt himself again being grabbed and pulled up by the Batman. "Did the cashier?"
Again, Chill found himself flying through the air before slamming headfirst into one of the apartment walls. Chill slammed to the ground and briefly heard the old man next door yelling to keep the noise down. "Did she beg for her life? For her baby's life?"
Batman slammed his boot down on Chill's back as he was trying to push himself up. "Tell me something?"
Batman lifted Chill up to look in his eyes again. As Batman did images of Elizabeth lying on the ground her blood pooling beneath her filled his mind. And he could still here the sounds of the baby crying for her mother, a mother that would never be able to comfort her child again. Batman growled, "Why should I not give you the same as you gave them."
Then Batman began pummeling him.
Two punches to the face.
Three body shots.
A knee to the nose.
Finally, Batman flipped the now nearly unconscious Chill in the air and slammed him onto the floor again. Chill's breathing was shallow and he was clearly in pain, but there was no mercy in the vigilante. Batman could feel his blood rushing and his heart beating in his ears, the images and sounds of the woman and her child kept playing in his mind. He was solely focused on the man now at his complete mercy on the floor, so much so that he didn't notice the attack coming at his back.
Batman felt a thud against the back of his head and quickly turned to look at what hit him. it was a small plastic hammer, a toy. For a moment Batman was so stunned that he didn't notice the small form rushing at him. It slammed into his leg and began to pummel his leg with its tiny fists, it didn't hurt at all. Finally, Batman registered what he was hearing.
"Stop hurting my daddy!" Batman looked down into the face of a sobbing and terrified girl, he guessed about four years old. She was in her pajamas and her face was streaked with tears as she screamed at the monster in front of her to stop.
"Brid… *cough… Bridgette run…" Chill managed to choke out. The girl, Bridgette looked away from the monster and ran over to her father. Throwing herself over him while looking at the Batman while still screaming, begging.
"Please stop hurting my daddy!" Batman felt the rage in him extinguish. As he took in the look of terror on the girl's face, he turned and looked at Chill, really looked at him. His face was swollen and there was blood covering his entire face and the upper part of his shirt and jacket. Batman looked down at his gloved hands and for the first time noticed the amount of blood that was covering them, then he noticed that there was blood spattered all over his suit from the beating he had been dealing out.
Then suddenly in his mind there was another image. This one of a bloody and beaten woman begging for mercy yet finding none. It was Shego. It was Shego the night of the Diablo attack, when Ron had hurt her so badly.
Batman was frozen for a moment looking from Chill to the girl, then to his hands and then back to Chill. Finally, Batman backed away from the two and turned to scan the room. He saw a phone in the corner and walked over to it, picking up the receiver he dialed 911.
When the operator answered he quickly explained. "I need police and an ambulance to 395 O'Neil Avenue, apartment 3E. Joe Chill the shooter from the bodega robbery last week is here and he needs medical attention."
With that Batman dropped the receiver and turned back to the father and daughter. He walked up to them, both with looks of terror on their faces as he approached. He looked at Chill. "Paramedics and Police are on the way."
Batman grit his teeth and sucked in a breath before asking. "Why did you shoot them?"
Bridgette looked from the demon in front of her to her father, not understanding anything that was going on. Chill began crying, not from the pain but from his own guilt.
"I just needed money." Chill sobbed. "I owed a lot of money to some people that you don't wanna owe money to. I tried finding a job from my usual guys for some cash but they didn't have any work for me. I needed cash fast, so I decided to start hitting up stores when I thought they'd have the most cash. When I was robbing that store, I didn't know the lady was there and when I heard here behind me I panicked. I didn't mean to do it. I just had to get us out of here. I was just trying to protect my little girl."
Batman felt his anger flare again but this time he managed to keep it in check. "How did you get the rest of the money that you were using to pay for your escape?"
Chill coughed for a moment before answering. "I… I knocked over a couple other stores after the bodega… But I didn't even take a gun in with me those times, I swear."
Batman allowed his rage to simmer for a moment. He made sure he was in control before he knelt down next to the father and daughter. Bridgette clung tighter to her father as Batman got closer.
"You killed a woman. Gunned her down while she was holding a child." Bridgette looked from the Batman to her father. Chill simply let out a small whine and a pitiful apology.
"You took that little girl's mother from her, forever. And you shot the cashier in the arm. And you've lost your own daughter now." Chill and Bridgette grew more terrified upon hearing this. "Because the entire Triton Police Force knows what you did. And after they clear you in the hospital you're going to prison. Your daughter will be an adult by the time you get out, if you get out at all."
Chill began to cry and wrapped an arm around his daughter who was now crying into her father's shirt. Batman stood up as he heard the sounds of sirens approaching from outside. Batman walked to the window and grabbed the grapnel line that was still dangling outside it. He turned to take one last look at the father and daughter crying on the floor before he leaped out the window.
Rufus nervously scratched his paws together as he looked at Ron. The teen had come back to their hideout covered in blood, though Rufus was relieved to find out was not his friends. The teen stripped off his uniform and changed into his usual cargo pants and a black t-shirt before sitting down on the couch. Ron then told Rufus everything that had happened earlier that night, sparring no details from the mole rat. Then the teen had leaned forward and set his head in his hands. He had been sitting like that for almost half an hour now, lost in thought. Rufus had decided to simply wait patiently for him to talk to him.
"I was going to kill him Rufus." The mole rat's eyes grew at the confession. Ron kept his head in his hands. "After what I saw… That baby screaming in her dead mother's arms, I just… I wanted end him so badly. It that little girl hadn't come in to try and protect her father…"
Ron let the rest of that thought hang in that air for a moment before he got up and walked over to the desk. He picked up a newspaper that was sitting on top. Ron had started keeping an eye on the paper and news for anything that he might need to be aware of as Batman. He scanned the headline of yesterday's copy.
'BATMAN' ATTACKS CONTINUE! TRITON TERRIFIED!
Ron threw the paper across the treehouse in frustration. He then sat down at the desk and rested his head in his hand. "Batman was supposed to be a way to help people. And now I've gotten the entire city terrified of me cause I went off the deep end."
"Dad was right." Ron sighed. "It's not what you are underneath, it's what you do that defines you. And right now, Batman is defined as a terrifying loose cannon."
"Do better." Rufus said. Having climbed atop the table and was patting Ron's arm comfortingly. Ron looked at his small friend and gave a meek smile.
"I'm not sure there's gonna be a next time buddy. After this and what happened with Shego I don't know if I can trust myself again." Rufus thought for a moment before responding.
"Trust you, hnk. Trust code." Ron looked at the mole rat quizzically.
"Code? What do you mean…" Suddenly Ron remembered a lesson from Master Sensei.
Sensei had explained that justice and the law are not the same. And that sometimes it is necessary to act outside the law in order to do what you believe is right. However not being beholden to any laws can give someone a sense of superiority, that they can simply do whatever they like, and that can lead to major problems. So, Sensei explained how the answer was to create a code for yourself. The code is a set of laws that you engrave in your own heart and you do not break them ever. The code that you live and act by inside.
"You think I need to make my own code." Ron stated. Rufus nodded.
"Okay but where to start?" Ron thought. Then his mind flashed back to Chill's bloody form and to Shego's broken one at Bueno Nacho HQ. And then his own words echoed in his mind. 'I was going to kill him Rufus.'
For a moment Ron was quiet but then he spoke.
"I will not kill."
Rufus padded over until he was standing in front of the blonde and had his attention. "Say again, hnk."
Ron lifted his head high and looked at the mole rat before repeating, louder and surer. "I will not kill. Ever."
Rufus nodded his head and then held up a single digit. "Hnk, first rule."
Ron nodded to Rufus before going back to pick up the paper. He reread the headline and frowned. Batman was meant to be a protector and keep people safe. He realized he would have to work hard to gain people's trust, especially after this last week. But he would do it, he would show through his actions that he was there to protect his city.
And the Batman would never lose control like he had that night again.
In a small apartment in the Narrows a man was sitting at an old desk. The man typed a few keys on his computer. The man then turned toward a large cork board that was set up on the wall next to him. The board was filled with pictures of people, newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. There was an almost comical amount of red string connecting different pieces together. The man proceeded to tack another newspaper clipping to the board. The same front page that Ron had been looking at.
'BATMAN' ATTACKS CONTINUE! TRITON TERRIFIED!
However, the man had included the rest of the article on the cut out not just the headline. And in the article there was a set of words that were circled in green ink several times.
'WHO IS THE BATMAN'
The man sat back in his chair and looked over the board, running through his web of ideas before landing back on the article he had just placed. A small smile crossed his face.
"Who is the Batman?" He began chuckling to himself. "Now that is a riddle."
Author's Notes:
Well, this concludes the second arc of the Unstoppable Batman.
I mentioned last issue that I called this arc The First because it's about Ron having a lot of firsts in his crimefighting career. His first murder. His first manhunt. His first meeting with Falcone and Cobblepot. And the big one I felt, his first rule, Batman doesn't kill.
Also this was initially going to be even longer. I was originally going to have a scene showing the altercation with his friends at the school, a flashback to Yamanouchi where Sensei explains the importance of having one's own code. And there was even a scene of Due and Fillmore at Chill's apartment after Ron called the police. But I thought this issue was getting long enough and that the flashback and school argument could be cut down. And that the scene with Fillmore and Due at Chill's apartment wasn't super necessary.
And I'm glad you guys seem to like Fillmore making an appearance in the series. That was a great show that really doesn't get the love it deserves I feel. And maybe we'll find out where Ingrid is eventually.
As usual hope you all enjoyed the story.
Next issue, Ron will face a new challenge and a type of villain he has never faced before. Starting next issue… RIDDLE OF TRITON (title subject to change)
See you next update everyone. Same Bat-Fic. Same Bat-Site.