"Status?"
"Really? We're just going to breeze by the mess you created in the vault?"
"Status?"
Phoebe huffed out an annoyed, put-upon sigh within Grim's helmet, which went completely ignored by the Spartan.
"I got what we needed along with any other data I deemed relevant." The AI reported.
"Understood," Grim answered, pulling his SMG free once more and moving towards the exit of the vault.
"Hold on there, Smiles. Let me resync with the outside network and see what we got incoming, along with wiping the cameras again," Phoebe said, making Grim pause just before the gaping hole in the vault.
Wordlessly, Grim repositioned himself so that his back was pressed against the large, steel door that made up that side of the vault. He then silently conducted a self-assessment, cataloging his remaining ammo and his overall status. Unsurprisingly, he and his suit were still unharmed, his shields eating most of the punishment he had received. But his ammo situation was slightly different. He had used up most of his SMG's ammo, meaning he'd soon have to switch to the assault rifle or his pistol. Something he wasn't particularly happy with as he didn't have time to police his brass like he'd like to. Already, the few pistol and assault rifle rounds he had expended had intermixed with the clown's own brass, meaning he had little hope of cleaning up after himself.
Back in his universe, it wouldn't have been a big deal, unless he was assassinating UNSC personnel. On those missions, it was expected he'd clean up after himself. But this universe wasn't as advanced as his own, meaning his rounds would appear far more advanced and well-made as compared to this universe's own. Despite the fact, that they were essentially the same round and casing.
Finishing his quick check, Phoebe began to report her findings.
"Hey, so remember when I said that the local authorities would be on-site in approximately twenty minutes? I was wrong. GCPD SWAT is fast-roping in up on our helipad and the first of their patrols have started establishing a perimeter outside."
On the corner of Grim's HUD a small video appeared, showing the aforementioned SWAT team assembling just to the side of his Owl. Strangely, they didn't seem to be paying the advanced VTOL any sort of attention. Probably assuming it to be a prototype of some sort that the lab was working on.
"I apparently overestimated the relative sanity of the people in this universe. The clowns, Greek gods, and bat people not withstanding. They're still on their own tier." Phoebe continued, feeling the need to explain away why she had been incorrect. She was an ONI-created AI, she should have been able to predict the authorities arriving earlier than expected.
"Connect with the Owl and have it circle the building," Grim ordered, unconcerned with the going-ons of the local PD.
"What about the SWAT team?"
"They should be far enough away that the engine's downdraft won't affect them."
"I meant what if they shoot it, Grim"
Grim paused to consider that. The Owl was rated for atmospheric reentry and was far more armored and armed as compared to its Pelican counterpart. It was also faster and could reach mach two in atmosphere, higher if they were trying to break the atmosphere or were performing an orbital insertion. So, a few rifle rounds shouldn't do too much damage if the cops decide to unload on the craft.
"Launch it." Grim ordered.
XXXXXXXXXX
Up on S.T.A.R Lab's Helipad
Caleb moved forward, shadowing their point man as their squad approached the door that led into S.T.A.R Labs. He turned and signaled back to the rest of his squad, preparing them for their upcoming breach. In his ear, he could hear his earpiece buzz with the chatter of the GCPD forming up around the Lab. It seemed like the entire precinct had been mobilized to handle whatever was going on inside. Part of him wondered where the hell the Bat was because it usually wasn't on them to deal with strange and abnormal calls. Usually, the most they'd do was transport the perps to booking and then lockup.
"Squad one, perimeter secure," a voice in his earpiece reported. "No movement."
Unfortunately for whoever had rattled off that report, they were a few seconds too early as the strange plane on the helipad started to whine. Instantly, every single one of the SWAT team's rifles were trained on it, a few of their number fingering their triggers nervously.
"Correction! We've got movement! The weird plane on the helipad is doing something!" Another voice called out over their comms.
On the helipad, the Owl's engines ignited a bright blue, and it began to rise. Above it, the two GCPD helicopters orbited, their snipers trained on the craft as they waited to see its first move. The Owl continued its rise and, per its launch protocols, rotated its main gun around so that it was extended from the craft along with reopening its missile pods.
"Holy hell," Caleb muttered, his grip on his rifle tightening. But his words were lost in the storm and the cries of "Gun!" echoing over their comms.
Suddenly, the crackle of their comms were interrupted by the Commissioner's voice, all business and tight.
"It's not S.T.A.R Labs', take it out!" He ordered.
Caleb and the rest of the team didn't need to be told twice. The air was then filled with the sound of rifle fire as the team and surrounding snipers unloaded on the strange craft.
XXXXXXXXXX
"The Owl's taking fire. Initializing countermeasures"
XXXXXXXXXX
Above them, the strange craft's engines roared loudly as its nose tilted and started to climb. Below it, Caleb and his team tried to coordinate their fire, aiming for the glowing blue of its thrusters and whatever exposed parts they could. But their combined fire did little to stop its climb as it rotated upwards so that it was pointed straight up towards the sky. But then, the SWAT team was blinded as the Owl activated its flares, the streaks of orange and red lighting up the night.
Caleb threw up his arm to shield his eyes, nowhere near in time to save his vision as it blurred. Around him, he could hear his team groan and moan as their own eyes were blinded by the bright light. After a few seconds, and a series of rapid blinks, Caleb's vision returned to him. His gaze instantly snapped to the strange craft, only for said craft to flare its engines once more.
It flew a few meters more upwards before tilting backwards over itself. Then, much like a whale breaching the surface of the sea, it rotated back and somersaulted off the helipad and into the open air below before disappearing beyond the edge of the building.
Forgetting himself, Caleb rushed to the edge of the helipad and watched as craft spun, pointing its belly towards the glass windows of the building. Its engines then brightened as it fed more power to its engines and pulled up, narrowly avoiding the tops of the small perimeter of police cars below. The strange craft then rotated to its right and disappeared into the storm clouds above.
XXXXXXXXXX
"The Owl's clear with minor damage. Should I bring it back around?"
"No, have it circle the city while we determine a secondary extract."
Grim stepped out into the room leading from the vault. He paused only for a moment, scanning his surroundings. S.T.A.R. Labs was eerily quiet, save for the occasional groan of damaged infrastructure. Emergency lights painted the walls in an orange-red hue, casting long shadows. The lighting also served to illuminate the many bodies and body parts that now decorated the lab. Not that Grim paid them any mind as he strode by them and into the hall beyond.
With a seemingly casual grace, he rounded the corner and made his way down to the floor-to-ceiling window that capped the end of the hall. Leaning forward, he cast his gaze downwards and onto the small semi-circle of police vehicles that lined the entrance to the lab. Behind them, he could see that they had moved the clown's vehicles off to the side, depriving anyone who exited the lab of cover.
"Ok, I think I've found two viable extraction points," Phoebe reported within his helmet.
"Our first option is Robinson Park. It's approximately three miles away and should be empty at this time of night, but the police will be able to better keep up with us due to the park being located in the center of downtown. Our second option is Grant Park which is five miles away but is in Old Gotham and has narrower streets where we can lose any tagalongs we've picked up."
"What about the buildings?" Grim asked.
"Do you really want to test if an old brick building can support a half-ton Spartan moving at speed while also possibly being chased?"
Grim said nothing, choosing instead to study the winding road just beyond the police barricade that led into the city. But Phoebe, having become something of an expert on Spartan speak, knew that his silence meant that she was correct, and he was conceding the point.
He then shifted, moving deeper into the hallway and lining himself up with the window and road just beyond. With a final check of his ammo on his HUD, Grim spoke.
"We'll make for Grant Park. Patch me into their comms and overlay current traffic conditions on my HUD along with directions to the LZ. If Grant Park becomes non-viable, our secondary extract will be Robinson Park."
"Doubling back in the hopes that we'll buy time while they scramble to reorient themselves? Smart." Phoebe observed passively. "I'm overlaying current traffic data and synching the GCPD's vehicle trackers now…. Ready to move whenever you are, big guy."
Grim didn't need to wait any longer, he had his route, the position of local OpFors, and a mission to complete. So, he raised his SMG and fired, his rounds weakening the strengthened glass before he rushed forward and into the open embrace of the storm beyond.
XXXXXXXXXX
S.T.A.R Labs Main Entrance
James Gordon has seen a lot in his time as Gotham's police commissioner. The rise and fall of local PD and political corruption, the advent of new, superpowered rogues and criminals that seek to drain whatever life remains in his city, and the arrival of the Bat and his flock.
Any one of these events would have been considered monumental in themselves had they occurred anywhere other than Gotham. But his city was special. Much like a rabid beast, the city would take and take and take until there was nothing left to take, yet still, her citizens were proud to call her home.
Which is why he was one of the few not to react to the sudden shower of glass that nearly hit two of his officers. He was far too used to the strangeness that Gotham always seemed to conjure up. He has to admit though, throwing oneself from the thirty-sixth floor of a building was a new one for him.
He watched as the dark shape rocketed towards the earth, completely oblivious to the shouts and cries below as it fell. Part of Jim half expected two large wings to sprout outwards from the thing's back before flying away into the storm clouds above. But his expectations were shattered when the thing pivoted forward, rolling over itself so that it had rotated a full one hundred and eighty degrees. Suddenly, plumes of what Jim could only describe as blue fire erupted across its body, slowing its descent minutely.
It landed with a thunderous crash onto the street, shaking the barricade and setting off a car alarm from one of the GCPD cruisers. The ground beneath the figure spiderwebbed with cracks, steam hissing as raindrops evaporated against the glowing heat of its armor.
Every officer in the vicinity scrambled, rifles drawn and trained on the towering intruder. Slowly, the figure straightened to its full height, armor slick with rain and streaked in the muted glow of emergency lights. In one hand, it carried what appeared to be a heavily modified SMG, its barrel trained downward in a rare moment of inaction.
One brave officer to Jim's right must have recovered faster than the rest of them because, suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of his voice echoing outwards from a blowhorn.
"Put the weapon down and get down on your knees! Place your hands behind your head and lie flat on the ground with your face to the pavement, or we will be forced to open fire!"
The figure tilted its helmet slightly, almost as if considering the command. But then, it moved, rushing forward while pulling something from its belt. It launched whatever it had grabbed towards the officers, forcing them to duck in cover behind their cruisers, only to be enveloped in darkness as dark clouds of smoke formed around them. A few feet away, Jim could hear Montoya coughing up a lung as his own struggled to breathe through the smoke pellet. His eyes tried to track the large being through the smoke, but there wasn't any sign of it until the sound of bending metal and shattering glass alerted the Commissioner to the being's current location.
Tugging on his years of training, Jim spun and fired, his three rounds ricocheting off something in the smoke as it glowed a bright yellow. He then felt the ground vibrate as something heavy impacted with the pavement before a series of dull clangs rang out. Jim listened to the clangs for a few seconds, his mind racing to understand exactly what it was he was hearing. But then, like a flash of lightning, the answer came to him. The clangs were the footfalls of the figure, and they were getting further and further away.
XXXXXXXXXX
Grim ran, drawing on his suit's power to help accelerate him forward to approximately forty miles per hour. A speed that he could easily hold for most of the day should the need arise. It also allowed him time to react to the local PD forces, either speeding up or slowing down depending on the situation.
On his HUD, he tracked a rapidly approaching cruiser, its occupants unaware that he had already broken their perimeter and was on the move. Aligning himself with the front of the car, Grim bounded forward, widening his strides. Then, with a small leap, he charged over the hood of the car, denting it in the process. His next steps destroyed the windshield and roof of the car as the weight of Mjolnir crashed over it. Grim then returned to the road below him, leaving behind two shocked and traumatized officers.
"We're entering the outer edge of the city, you may want to slow down a bit," Phoebe suggested, only to have Grim speed up. "Or not."
Grim hurtled forward, his stride long and effortless, even as his boots pounded the rain-slick streets with a rhythmic cadence. He darted past dilapidated buildings, narrow alleyways, and the occasional parked vehicle, keeping an eye on his HUD as Phoebe continually updated the map of Gotham.
Behind him, the GCPD scrambled, their cruisers weaving through the storm in an attempt to close the gap. The faint echoes of sirens bouncing between the towering skyscrapers grew louder by the second. Grim glanced upward, catching glimpses of police helicopters occasionally piercing through the roiling storm clouds, their searchlights sweeping the drenched streets in pursuit of the fleeing Spartan.
"Multiple cruisers have diverted toward the Grant Park route," Phoebe warned in his helmet. "Expect resistance at choke points."
"Mark the choke points on my HUD," Grim ordered.
Instantly, multiple blocks of red appeared on his HUD. Most were centered at or along intersections, probably following some sort of protocol. The rest looked to be trying to funnel him into one of the intersections. He gave them points for trying as he increased his speed to fifty miles per hour.
"Uhhh, Grim?" Phoebe questioned tentatively, "You realize we need to turn soon, right?"
"We need to lose those choppers." Grim returned as he angled himself towards a large storefront in front of him.
Without slowing, he shoulder charged through the large glass pane window, sending its shards flying and completely decimating the clothing display behind it. Unabated, he continued his route, flying through the store and trampling the store's clothing racks and displays. He then smashed through the back wall that separated the rest of the store from the dressing rooms before crashing through the wall behind that and into an alley behind the building.
"Cruiser approaching on our right!" Phoebe called out, alerting the Spartan to the vehicle approaching outside the alley.
Wordlessly, he reached out and snatched the edge of a nearby dumpster, pulling it along as he raced down the alley. Then, with a shove, he threw the dumpster forward and in front of him. The metal box clattered against the ground, its wheels struggling to keep up with the speed it found itself under. Luckily for it, it only had to stay upright for a few seconds before crashing into the side of the police cruiser, pinning the driver inside.
Grim then, without breaking stride, leapt and slid across the front of the cruiser's hood, sending up a few sparks as his shields reacted to the metal. Landing on the opposite side, the Spartan took off once more. He raced down another alley and onto another street.
"Ok, we're about a half mile away from Grant Park. If you take the next left, we can avoid the barricade set up ahead of us and enter the park from the south entrance." Phoebe updated.
Grim glanced back behind him, the motley of cruisers, trucks, and motorcycles populating the streets behind him. It seems that his shortcut had done little to create distance between himself and his pursuers. His best estimate put the first of the cars approximately thirty seconds behind him.
Without a second thought, he pushed himself forward, accelerating to the upper limits of both his body and Mjolnir.
"You heard we need to take a left, right? I'm not just talking to myself here?" Phoebe sassed in his helmet.
"Yes." Grim answered flatly.
"Yet I can't help noticing that you've sped up again." Phoebe returned.
"We're making the left," Grim responded easily, unbothered by the AI's annoyance.
A few seconds later, they were approaching the intersection at speed. Scattered all about were officers and their cruisers, trying to form a wedge to corner and stop him. Behind them was a large SWAT van and box truck. Not that either mattered to Grim, he had no intention of going in the direction they were placed.
Extending his arm, he fired off his grapple-shot, its metal end embedding itself into the concrete of a nearby building. The line went taunt as he angled his body away from the line, creating a pendulum with him at the end. He then allowed the grapple to pull his weight all while keeping up the same pace.
Using his momentum, Grim roared through the intersection, ignoring the poorly aimed shots the GCPD leveled at him. The only hiccup was when his right knee slammed into the left side of one of the officer's cruisers, sending it screeching backward as Grim raced by. Finishing his turn, the Spartan retracted his grapple-shot and shot forward, the road in front of him completely open. Just beyond the next intersection, he could see the large brick walls and wrought iron gates that made up the entrance to the park.
The only warning he had that something was amiss was a late call-out from Phoebe.
"Grim!"
XXXXXXXXXX
A Few Seconds Earlier
"Take the next left and he should be right in front of you!" Oracle yelled into his comms, her voice echoing in the emptiness of the Batmobile.
Bruce pressed his armored foot against the accelerator, feeding more hydrogen into the engine and causing the vehicle's jet engine to roar in response. He was close, only a few seconds away and he refused to let the being that had threatened his family getaway, especially once he had heard that all communication with the Birds and Kate had ceased. Considering what footage Oracle had managed to pull, it wasn't unreasonable to assume they were dead. In which case, his mission had become one of vengeance, a mission he'd fully committed himself to after Jay's passing. Because that was his penance for failing Jay… failing his son.
The Batmobile's tires screeched in protest as he drifted through the final intersection, a cloud of smoke and the smell of burning rubber filling the air as he sped forward. Just as Oracle had reported, the being was directly in front of him, making a beeline for the park.
Bruce hammered down on the pedal, pushing the car to its limits, but he had bigger concerns. He didn't know how strong the being's armor was or its capabilities, but he wasn't planning to find out. If it could survive crashing through a building, the figure should be able to survive this, and if it was still active after this, Bruce had pulled his old cold suit out of storage.
The suit itself had been designed to withstand the worst of Freeze's weapons without much trouble, its warming features being second to none, but that's not why he had pulled it out of storage. With its weight, he had added a series of mechanized joints to the suit so that it could carry itself, essentially making it weightless while also increasing his strength. It remained to be seen just how effective it would be.
The Batmobile roared down the street, speeding towards the figure who had just managed to notice the car a few seconds before it smashed into it. Bruce watched in morbid fascination as the figure's golden gaze snapped to the car before it leapt, not nearly in time to clear the vehicle but just enough to lessen the impact. It smashed into the car's front fender before flipping onto the hood. It then rebounded off the hood and bounced into the cockpit. Upon its impact, the metal that made up the roof dented inwards, shattering the bullet-proof glass. Then, with a final tumble, the figure bounced off the armored spoiler that extended behind the cockpit.
Cutting the wheel, Bruce spun the car around, causing another bout of squealing tires and burning rubber before coming to a stop with his headlights on the figure. At first, the figure remained motionless on the ground, sprawled out on its chest. Occasionally, a flash of golden light would spark outwards from its armor before disappearing, but then it began to move. It pulled itself up onto its knees and hands, while its head shook slightly.
"What the hell, Bruce?!" Oracle's voice called out shrilly. He'd forgotten that she was still on the line with him and was probably monitoring the situation through the Batmobile's onboard cameras.
"I'm moving to apprehend the being, have GCPD stand by with anti-meta cuffs," Bruce ordered, unwilling to discuss his choice of tactics until after the figure was apprehended.
With a hiss, the cockpit's door and overhead hatch slid open, allowing Bruce to gracefully disembark the vehicle. He slowly stalked towards the down figure, puffing his chest and spreading his cape out behind him while activating the thermal rods throughout the suit. It may have been a bit theatrical, but then again, he'd built a reputation as Gotham's demon. So, a little theater was warranted to maintain that image.
He came to a stop above the figure, who seemed to notice his approach. Its helmeted head turned towards him, revealing a line of cracks in its golden visor, stretching across its right eye. Without any preamble, Bruce reared back and punched down, catching the side of the figure's helmet, near its temple. The being's head whipped around at the impact as small, golden shards fell onto the asphalt below. But that was all that happened, much to Bruce's internal surprise.
He knew how much force he had just laid into that punch, not even a fully armored Slade had withstood it. Yet, the being below him had taken it without so much as a grunt.
Slowly, the figure's head rotated back towards Bruce before angling upwards, revealing the remains of its shattered visor around its right eye. But it was the look held within the visor that made Bruce's blood run cold. Its far too blue eye was narrowed, locked onto him, like a predator, and suddenly Bruce felt he should have brought heavier gear. Because he recognized that look, it was a look he had seen every morning ever since he was eight years old. It was a look of fire, of determination, of fury.
So caught up in the being's eye, Bruce never saw the figure move.