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Post by Mir »

Rated R/M

Gotham City
Five Months After the Watercrest Hotel

The night was cool and crisp.

Perfect for what Batman was doing. He was in the middle of a stakeout, having worked on this case for the past few weeks. There had been a series of kidnappings, and all of the clues had pointed to Granton and the surrounding neighborhoods. So he’d asked around. The thugs that he’d picked up, hadn’t heard much of anything about the kidnappings or who were involved, but two of them had told him about some newcomers to town renting out a few rooms in the Peterson Apartment building a few blocks off of Powers Boulevard. Once he’d gotten a second person to confirm the story, he’d known that it was time to investigate and see what was going on within the building. Pulling up the schematics of the building, he’d left them up on the computer one day while he’d practiced against his sparring robots, and that had been all the time he’d needed to memorize them.

While preparing his gear, he’d also read up on the background information on the building. It wasn’t too old, built in the Fifties. It actually had a fallout shelter in it because of Cold War tendencies. A total of thirty stories, the Peterson Apartment building was a big one too. Batman knew that he was headed to the seventeenth floor though. That was the number that the first thug had given him and the second had said that he’d stopped counting the one time that he’d been there, and that had been around twelve. So in the very least, Batman knew that it was above fifteen. That didn’t particularly narrow things down, giving him about half of the building’s stories to go, but he’d allowed knowledge of man to come in and cut that down to between fifteen and twenty. After the twentieth floor, the second criminal would have looked back up at the elevator’s control panels to see where they were, especially since one of the digit changes might have attracted his attention. 

Human nature. People are impatient. That was something that he was not.

With the Czechs increasing their control over the area, Batman had brushed up on his working knowledge of the various Eastern European knowledges. He wouldn’t have claimed to be a subject matter expert, but he knew enough that he would be able to get by. As he adjusted the range on the binoculars, he made a mental note to look into improving in that department. Especially if these kidnappings continued after tonight. He hadn’t explored an organized crime connection yet, but something that he found in the place tonight could potentially lead to that.

On a nearby roof, Batman’s binoculars looked in on the seventeenth floor. He couldn’t see much, since there were a number of blinds that were closed, but what he could see didn’t tell him that anything out of the ordinary was going on. But then again, it was close to one in the morning. Outside of the dull flickering light of late night television on coming from one room, most of the people were dead to the world. He’d already checked the other sides of the apartment building and there had been nothing so far. But then he saw it. Up, not on the seventeenth floor, but the one above it, the eighteenth. A flash of light. Lifting the high powered, binoculars on, he looked through the night vision and saw a man standing, with a gun in hand. Silencer. He’d been lucky to see the flash. Even if it wasn’t the problem that he was looking for, it was enough for Batman.

One hand secured the binoculars, the other grabbed the grappling hook. It was fired. Soaring through the air, it was slammed into the concrete a good bit higher than the eighteenth floor, the high IQ of Batman calculating with minimal effort the trajectory that he would need. Then he was shooting through the sky, moving through the wind, ignoring the cold, crisp air. He landed just where he needed to, just how he had intended. There was no other in this world quite like Batman.

The glass shattered. He thought with a pity that he hadn’t had time to worry about the fragments that would go tumbling down eighteen stories before it hit the ground. But he reassured himself that in this area, most decent people weren’t walking around at this time of night. His legs were up, knees close to his chest, and his reinforced boots lashed out as he slammed into the man who’d fired the gun. A batarang lashed out at the same time, hitting the one lamp that was on, plunging the room into darkness. A darkness that Batman preferred, a darkness that he operated well out of. With a thought, his suit brought the night vision lenses up, and created the modicum of light that he needed, simulated moonlight.

And then he was off.

There was a snap as the man he’d taken down had his arm broken. There were two others in the room who had been standing and one that had been sitting on a couch. The one on the couch rose, reaching into a jacket pocket for something. Batman saw a flash of metal before his fist impacted against the man’s nose, breaking it. A spinning motion brought enough torque into play that his left forearm chop into the man’s celiac plexus area, commonly referred to as the solar plexus. The resulting fall backwards was due to the shock, and getting the wind knocked out of him. Batman turned and ran forward, throwing his shoulder into one of the standing men, who had his gun out. There was no time for a shot to ring out. He rolled on the ground, confident that the reinforced padding of his shoulder armor would keep the man down. He’d heard two ribs crack on the way down, and that would have made the landing painful.

Rolling on the ground, that left one man. A pistol was up. Beretta. Nine millimeter. It was in Batman’s hands and he singlehandedly disassembled it, the pieces falling to the ground. He heard the man’s whimpers as he did it, holding the man’s arm behind his back with his free hand. Batman pocketed the magazine, but brought the round that had been in the chamber up, barely visible in what light there was in the room. “Hollow tips. And if I saw right earlier, murder.” Batman said, and looked to his right. He could see that the apartment had carpet flooring. A large swath had been covered in plastic. This was a killing area. The person who had been shot was laying on the ground.

Anger grew.

Child murder.” He said, the anger seeping into his voice.

Blood was splattered on the wall behind the plastic on the ground, and he could tell that the fresh splatter joined others that had been there. “I’ve been hearing about the kidnappings in the area. Tell me what I want to know.” Batman said. “Tell me, and I won’t break your arm.”

With the right amount of pressure, everyone talked. It was just a question of finding what that pressure was. Answers in hand, Batman had knocked the man out. Then he’d reinforced the door and took the phone off the hook. A call to nine one one was placed. Then he was gone.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

The stakeout of the next place had gone well. Batman had watched it the next night, knowing that there would be more back up in place, now that one of their places of operation had been hit. They were trafficking in human slaves, particularly child slaves. The reports of the kidnappings had been about multiple people, so he’d expected to find multiple people, but this was different. He should have seen it though. Every kidnapping report had involved a parent and at least one child. He should have realized that the children was what was being trafficked in. The parents weren’t that important and were being kept to control the children, until they could be strung out on some drug and be controlled that way. The parents were then disposed off. This was the next big set up place, and he was working on a way in.

It was a simple warehouse, nothing too fancy. Three stories high, the three levels were being used for legitimate work. The two sub levels of the warehouse, that was where the children were being kept, and that was where he was headed. Already, he knew that there was heightened security. The amount of guards had been increased from the number that he’d been told. Granted, the man who he’d gotten the information from could have been lying, but assuming that it was the proper point to start with, security had been almost doubled. And there were dogs. That meant that getting into this warehouse was going to be rather tricky.

Luckily for him, he’d already found his way in.

Stepping out of the shadows, Batman looked around from his vantage point in the rafters of the third floor. The warehouse was old school, and so it didn’t have that advanced of a sensor system, especially on the upper part of the third floor. Now he just needed to make his way through the place to the sub levels. This would be trickier, mainly because going down through the actual warehouse would be difficult. No doubt he ran the risk of setting off one of the alarms in the building. There weren’t that many people in the building at this time of night, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to chance it. No, he was headed somewhere else. The service elevator.

This trick had worked before when he’d gone after Connor Wesley at St. Catherine’s Hospital. This would be far more difficult. Wesley had been a one man operation and had been on a single track to get his father a kidney. This place had multiple people moving through it and people who would be paying attention to the security system. From what Batman knew, the Gotham City Police Department hadn’t gotten as far in their investigation as he had, so he hoped that he wouldn’t run into any GCPD detectives doing some snooping. At the service elevator, he slid a tool in between the doors and started prying them open. When he did, he pulled out a small rubber ball and holding it out, he dropped it.

There was a rope attached to it. A camera was built into the rubber ball and he watched as it descended. It stopped when it hit where the elevator was and then bounced back up towards him. Good. The service elevator was on the first sub level. This made his plan of entry even easier. All he needed to do was to jump down and then enter the elevator itself. From there, opening the elevator doors would give him entrance to where the illegal operation was being conducted.

He shot a grappling hook into the ceiling of the elevator shaft and then he dropped down. The heavy duty wire spooled outwards, and he could hear the zipping sound as he dropped. But then his eyes widened as Murphy’s Law kicked in.

The elevator started moving up, towards him.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Batman waited until the elevator got incredibly close and then he disconnected the grappling hook, dropping onto the top of the elevator. This made sure that the sound that he made was not that loud. Since he didn’t know which floor the elevator was going to, he had to assume that it was going all the way up to to the top. Which meant that he was going to be squished if he didn’t do something about this. Reaching into the utility belt, he pulled out a small pen like object. Pressing a button on the sleek black object, a powerful laser shot forward. The red beam cut through the safety lock on the top of the elevator’s escape hatch. Then he dropped a small sphere into the elevator car and leaned back. A second later, there was a bright flash and he dropped in, the flash bang’s effect working.

A swift knee to the face took down the man who had been standing in the elevator, and Batman disassembled the sub machine gun that the man had been holding, taking the rounds. Then he waited as the elevator slowed down. He noticed with a small smirk that he was back on the fifth floor. Pressing the button for the basement sub level two, Batman waited as the car traveled down towards it’s destination. As it did, he prepared himself, with a batarang in each hand. When the doors finally opened, he moved forward, ready to fight.

But there was no one there. Eyes narrowing, Batman moved so that he was up against a wall, and started to slowly walk down the hallway. It was a long hallway with a number of different doors on it. He could only imagine what was behind the doors, but he was going to find out very soon. At the end of the hallway was another door, and he figured that that door opened up into the main area of this floor, which was probably utilized for storage. If this was a child kidnapping ring, with the intention of turning them into panhandlers and prostitutes, then they were going to be there, packed away. The rooms that the doors on the side of the hallway opened up to, those would be for special things. He tried the first door.

It opened. Batman was like a slithering snake, moving inside and the silence with which he opened the door, he also used to close it. The sight that was in front of him was one that he would remember, like many others he would see in the future, until his dying day. A young girl, maybe around the age of twelve, was on her knees in front of a man sitting in a chair. He was drinking from something, and Batman identified the smell as vodka. His pants were around his ankles, and his free hand was on top of the back of the young girl’s head as she was giving him a blow job. The man mumbled words from time to time, about how she was doing and how to make it better. He didn’t use a name, just “bitch”. Batman watched as her head bobbed up and down, her mouth wrapped around the man's dick. No doubt he was enjoying it immensely.

The girl wasn’t been fed well, nor clothed well. Her eyes were closed, tightly and she had her hands on his thighs to balance properly. In that moment, Isaiah had to remind himself why he didn’t kill. He remembered reading the words in Bruce’s journal. The mantra.

Batman doesn’t kill.

But he wasn’t Batman. He wasn’t Bruce Wayne.

The batarangs were razor sharp. They would come around the man’s throat and two slashes would be easy to make as he pulled the man backwards. He’d bleed out of his neck, his trachea severed. Diagnosis would be that he would be dead within minutes. Speed would allow him to get to the girl and stop her from screaming. A hand around the mouth. He could activate the small built in tool in his gloves. An idea of Winston’s, there were small holes in his gloves that were connected to a small reservoir that had a mixture of different chemicals and gases in them. This allowed Batman to knock someone out very quickly. She wouldn’t feel a thing and she’d wake up safe and sound.

The man would be dead, one less piece of filth in this city. The cleansing tide had begun.

Batman moved forward, his batarangs out.

They came around and found purchase.

On the sides of the man’s head, on his ears. The stunning motion gave him the time to put them away and use his chloroform on the man to knock him out. He lifted a finger to his lips and the girl, looking up at him in shock, managed to follow the instructions, quite possibly out of fear. The bottle moved downwards, but he caught it before it fell, setting it down on the ground. There would be no noise.

“Kid.” Batman said. “I need you to be quiet. I have to fight the rest of the men here and I need you to keep quiet so they don’t know I’m coming.” He said.

“Are you going to stop what’s happening here?” She managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. He realized that this was less from her understanding the need for silence or fear of him and more because she wasn’t really allowed to speak in this place. He nodded in response and she managed to crack a smile. “There are men, with guns and they’re strong.” She said, the words spilling out. Her volume rose as she talked, her movements beginning to get more animated. “I’d say there’s thirty, maybe forty. I lost count. They...hit you. Rape you.” She said.

Batman nodded. He wasn’t going to kill them. Because then he would be just like them. No better than them. The moral high ground had to be maintained. A code was only as strong as the willpower involved in maintaining it and following it. In each trying time, he had to find it within himself to do what was right. What was needed. Rising, Batman came to his full height.

The motion scared the girl and she scrambled back.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He pointed to his chest, to the symbol that was somewhat hard to see in the diminished light of the room. “You know who I am?” He asked.

“You’re the Batman.”

He nodded.

He wasn’t Bruce Wayne. He was John Isaiah Muir. But he was the Batman.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Batman walked through the double doors, his eyes taking in everything around him. He’d been right on the warehouse idea. Most of the space was being used for storage, of drugs and alcohol. He’d already memorized the top five most common bottles that weren’t normally or easily found in the United States in order to backtrack and figure out which bars or clubs these people were supplying and making their money off of. From there, he’d inspected a collection of pills to look for any distinguishing features that he’d be able to ask about. Also, he’d taken a sample, to give visual stimulation to anyone that he asked. There had been a few guards in the warehouse, but taking them down hadn’t been that difficult. Batman’s knowledge of Muay Thai provided him the ability to take down most foes with ease and speed. A search of the guards hadn’t given him much information, though he’d saved the names on the ID’s for use later. Anything to put together a complete file on these people was useful.

Now he was ready to break the kids out of this place. Batman had placed a call to the Gotham City Police Department, but he’d sent it to Santieri’s precinct. Currently, he wasn’t in his precinct, but the Lieutenant would know what to do with this situation. Besides, Batman knew that his mission was to instill trust in the other man. This was just another trust building exercise for the two of them. His eyes took in the hastily built wall in the sub basement level. It looked as though it had been put together using plywood and a prayer. But then again, he had known that these people wouldn’t put in great living accommodations for their guests while they were here.

There were three doors and Batman went to the first one. Standing with his back up against the wall, he reached down and grabbed the door handle, slowly turning it. The cheap Home Depot door knob turned, without making too much noise. He peered inside and looked around. Bunks, probably twenty of them, were up against one of the walls. The other side held the same thing. Switching to a night vision outlook told him that there was one child to each bunk, giving a total of forty in this room. If he assumed the same for each room, the total capacity of this warehouse was one hundred and twenty children. If they went worse conditions and doubled up, two hundred and forty. There hadn’t been that many kidnappings in the news or that he could attribute to this group, but that didn’t mean that the bunks weren’t filled.

Groups like this were common in their ways, but special in their tactics. He had been reading up on FBI files on the methods used by these people since the first night and he had found that they tended to move the kids around to different cities very frequently. This was done to ensure that the children, already scared, would be unable to attempt to leave. If they were in a city that they had grown up in, then they could escape and try to get back to their homes and families. But if they were in a new city, a city that they had never been in before, then their ability to escape and go elsewhere was substantially modified.

A smart strategy, similar to what the Chinese military utilized.

This operation, though not too well funded, had been put together quite well. That much he was willing to give them. But however well it had been assembled, it was easily going to be disassembled. Moving to the next door, Batman opened the door and saw that this one had fewer people in it, but there were definitely children in here. He didn’t have much time before the Gotham City Police Department got here, and he needed to figure out how to track these people so that he could find another hideout.

Before he could place a hand on the final door, however, he heard sirens in the distance. It looked like it was time to leave. Nothing more could be done here.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Here he was.

After a week of doing more work and back tracking, he had found what he was looking for. One of the main places of operation for the organization that was conducting the child trafficking. From everything that Batman had seen, if he hit them here, and hit them hard, it would be enough to send ripples through the organization and slow them down considerably. He was already moving through the crisp night air of Gotham, on his way to their location. The night was still young, it was only a little after midnight. The people of Gotham were still out and about and he had stopped a mugging and a pair of would be jewelry store robbers. Not a bad start to the night, all things considered. By the time he reached his destination, it was closer to one in the morning. It was a simple building, of a few stories in height. This was the penthouse apartment, in a building that was in a poor neighborhood. Penthouse was not the word that needed to be used for the place, but that had been the description when he’d been doing his research.

None of it mattered to Batman though, who was crouched on the rooftop of a nearby building. There were a total of four armed men standing on the top of the building, on a small rooftop patio that made up part of the penthouse. They would have to be taken down if he was going to-

Batman rocked backwards, dropping flat against the ground of the rooftop. A fifty caliber round impacted against a wall not too far behind him. Eyes narrowing, Batman slowly sat up, knowing that someone being able to see him was nigh impossible. But someone had. More importantly than that, someone had fired at him, which meant that there was a lookout. Quite possibly there for him. He had been staunchly targeting this organization for some time, it made sense that they might have hired someone to try to bolster their defenses. But this one was well trained if they were able to spot the man trained to be one of the shadows.

He would have to be on his guard.

Rolling as he sat up, he moved to his left as another round ripped past him. This wasn’t good. Thankfully there was some cover, however. A door that lead down into the building that he was on and the brick that made up the stairwell. Batman was up against it very quickly and he knew that his next move had to be a good one. Isaiah closed his eyes and the area of the building that he needed to get to started to come back to him. He had only memorized it a day ago after he’d pulled it up from his archives. Reaching into the utility belt, Batman pulled out a two small objects that when combined, were no larger than his fist. They fit together as they had been built for each other. Some time ago, Paul Matthews, leader of the Fantastic Five had been looking for investors. It had been shortly after the Energy Recapture Experiment that had failed and had given him, his team, and his brother their powers.

He had wanted to found a new company, since James Matthews, his older brother was nowhere to be found. Despite his money and the wealth that he had gotten over the years, he still needed money and investors to help fund his company. So he had sent out information packages to see who would be interested. Isaiah had come back with the strongest plan, giving Matthews complete and total control of what would be called Fantastic Research Inc. In exchange for that, Matthews had sold to Isaiah twenty seven percent of the company. As the silent partner, the only other think that Isaiah had asked for was that a working model of anything that Fantastic Research ever designed was sent to him and that he could get more if he needed.

While Matthews had thought this a peculiar request, he had given in, since he had understood what his problem with science was. Matthews was the smartest man on the planet, bar none. But he was incredibly theoretical. He had a hard time finding concrete applications for his ideas and his plans. That was where the rest of the team came in, bringing their intellect and genius to play to come up with practical means of utilizing the technology. With this solved, they now needed a means to manufacture. FR Inc. would purchase General Electronics LTD, a manufacturing corporation. That company now a subsidiary worked, via contract, hand in hand with Wayne Enterprises. Thus, Matthews had eventually decided that since Wayne Enterprises was going to be building his and his team’s inventions anyways, Muir just wanted to have one for himself.

Now this was coming into play to help Isaiah. Everything he did was calculated.

The small box was one of Matthew’s earlier inventions and dealt with holograph technology. It was a miniaturized emitter and allowed Batman to display a number of different things. There was a set number of actions that could be programed into this box. Isaiah had spent time preparing for different eventualities. He understood, thanks to his travels, his studies, and what he’d read from Bruce, that the Art of the Bat was the art of being prepared. Always being prepared for anything. While he hadn’t been sure when he would need a holoprojector that could display himself doing different actions, he had figured that it would be better to have and not need than to need and not have.

He pressed a button on the box, selecting the number that he wanted.

A projection of Batman, in full armor appeared next to him. He looked at himself. At a distance it would be nearly impossible to tell that this was not the real thing. Thank God he’d invested in that company.

As the holoprojection of Batman started to run, so too did the real Batman.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

The grappling hook had found purchase and now Batman looked out from where he had landed and scanned the area for his foe.  Whoever this was, they had been able to get the drop on him, and he didn't like that, not at all.  They were going to have words, provided that he was able to find the man first.  That was the first step in the plan. The plan after that involved fists and feet directed to places that would hurt. Badly. Moving forward, Batman kept on, until silence ruled the night once more.  Something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what it was.  The battery on the holograph machine was still fine, that he knew.  Either his enemy had seen through the ruse, or he had opted to journey to Batman's former side in order to see what was going on.  No matter what, he needed to get a move on and figure out what his next move was.  Taking a few steps forward, he pushed himself up against a wall, and peered around it.

There was a man standing there, holding a smoking rifle.  From the looks out it, a SCAR.  Decent weapon.  Not that many of them were here in Gotham, it was  a hard weapon to come by on the black market, which indicated that this one was an out of town muscle.  Someone hired to protect the smugglers and kidnappers.  It didn't matter, not in the long run, but it did tell Batman that his tactics had worked well, shaking up his enemies and causing them to try to bring in outside people in an attempt to stop him. That was information that was useful, because it let him know that his tactics, techniques, and procedures were working and for him to be able to analyze them to see what changes really needed to be made, if any. He was constantly evolving and becoming more and more dangerous. Batman had to, because he was, after all, only just a human.

Batarang in hand, he came around the corer and let it fly.  It whistled through the air, beautiful and ready.

And then the man turned around, drawing a pistol and opening fire.  The crazier fact, was that he hit the batarang.  Batman didn't have time to think about it or contemplate what it meant, he was far too busy dodging rounds from the pistol. The M9 bucked as it fired and then the man did a combat reload, dropping the empty magazine. By then though Batman was almost on top of him and he was forced to draw a combat knife in order to defend himself. Now the odds were more even.  The knife lasted only a few moments, before getting caught in the wrist blades of the batsuit. A quick pull in opposite directions and the blade was snapped. Another weapon down. The pistol was kicked out of the man’s hands a moment after that, and then he was down to just his hands and his feet to defend himself.

The other took a step back blocking the punch from the Batman. He blocked a kick and Batman saw that his skill set was designed to be defensive. Every hit, every motion was designed to give ground, as the man searched for a way out of the situation that he was in, a way to escape. There was no situation that the man had thought of where his target would be able to make it past the hail of bullets that was his initial attack.  Too much reliance on one skill, without the proper development of the rest. More fool he. That was going to be his downfall this night.  Preparation for any situation was the key to winning a fight.  Batman was simply more prepared.  So when his flying knee takedown worked, and the man's back slammed against the hard rooftop with the added weight and pressure of Batman on top of him, Batman wasn't surprised. It had been an eventuality, one that he had seen in his mind and had then worked to make an actuality.

"Who are you?"

"I'll never tell." The other said with a smirk.

"I wouldn't be too certain of that."

"You look the part, but you're no Batman. I know the real Batman." The man said, biting down hard on something. The one on top of him recognized the cyanide capsule.  This was going to end quickly. "You can call me Deadshot, hero.  And there's more of me than you can imagine. Once Deadshot starts a contract..."

Realization came to him. Before his death, the hitman known as Deadshot had worked on a personal project, creating an organization of hired killers and mercenaries.  They all went by the name of Deadshot, giving them added power and ability.  Known around the world as a competent group, their services went for a high price. Just like the original Deadshot, once someone paid or at least once there was an iron clade guarantee of money, come hell or high water, the job would be done. This was an interesting development.  Knowing that there was little more that he could do for the deceased man, Batman rose.

There was more work to be done.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Isaiah Muir was not a very hands on kind of businessman. He understood a lot of the way the world worked, but he preferred to leave the day to day affairs to more qualified people, also people who were far more interested. People like Britney Harmon. Harmon was the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, a position that she had held for quite some time. The company’s value had remained intact during the course of her tenure and had increased, despite the global recession. The company had taken a hit in some divisions, but Harmon’s keen business acumen had helped keep the company growing. They had invested in a number of smaller companies that were geared towards green energy. Wayne still maintained all of their assets when it came to petroleum and all of it’s various products and forms, but they were pushing the boundaries for green energy in the United States and around the world.

The man standing in the CEO’s office took a sip from the glass of water that was in his hands. “I was wondering when we were planning on expanding the Tokyo office.” He said, admiring a piece of artwork that was on the wall.

“The proposal should be on my desk next week. Tuesday, I think.” Britney said.

Isaiah turned and looked at her. “That’s good. What’s this about this crazy researcher you want me to meet?” He asked.

“She’s not crazy.” Britney said.

“Right.” He replied and gave her a smirk. “So what’s so special about her?” He asked. “I mean, you often times ask me to meet someone, but this is the first time where there’s a serious fire under your ass.” He added.

“I like her ideas about conservation and protecting the environment. I think that Wayne Enterprises could partner with her and her research and get breakthroughs that other companies can’t have while still ensuring that the environment is maintained. That gives us an edge when it comes to marketing and sales.” Britney said, leaning back in the chair that she sat in. Her blond ponytail shifted as she spoke.

“You're sure she's not crazy. She’s not a tree hugger, is she?” Isaiah asked, giving her a frown.

“No, she isn’t.” Britney said, looking at her computer as a new email message appeared. Clicking on it, she started to read the information that was there. “I’m going to invite her to meet with you for dinner.” She said, still looking at the computer screen. “With any luck, we may be able to strike up a business agreement or at least a hand shake agreement.” Britney said and then looked up at him.

She was acutely aware that he’d been studying her the entire time. Knowing what she knew about him, it was a bit unsettling. Despite the fact that she knew that he was Batman, he still managed to maintain that air of mystery about him. She couldn’t describe how he did it, not entirely, but there was something about it. Ever since she had met him, he had always been able to keep the tables turning and never once had she seen anyone ever get a bead on him. Mystery was probably too easy of a word to use.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Nothing.” The man set the glass of water down on the table without another word and started to walk around the room. His gaze shifted to the windows and the superb view of Gotham City that was afforded to Britney thanks to the office. “I’ll meet with her. What restaurant do you want to do this at?” He asked.

“How about that new Thai place downtown?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll eat anywhere.” He said and she nodded. He watched as her fingers moved over her keyboard and she started answering the email. “You’ll handle all the arrangements?” He asked and she nodded again. “Right. I’m going to be headed out then. I’ll see you and her or just her or whatever at seven. Text me the particulars.” He said and then Isaiah walked out of the office.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Isaiah smiled as he walked down the front steps of Wayne Manor. He took in the scene before him and nodded approvingly as he reached the last step, hands in the pocket of the Brooks Brothers suit. “Looking sharp, Winston.” He said.

“Thank you, sir.” Winston said, in his driver’s uniform. He held the keys to the old Rolls Royce in his hands and gestured at the car. “Shall we?” He asked. “I doubt you want to be late, when Ms. Harmon has given you strict marching orders. The criminals of Gotham may beware the Batman, but you sir, should certainly beware the Harmon.” The Englishman said with a smirk on his face.

“Indeed. But I think I remember how to drive, and I’m sure I still have a valid license.” Isaiah said, holding up the keys to the Aventador. “That one night on the freeway nonwithstanding. Though that was more to fake injuries than anything. Listen, take the night off, old man.” He said with another smile. “Last thing I want you to do is eat Chinese takeout in the front seat of the Rolls. I've been told I have bad table manners, and that was your department if I remember right. You might stain the seats."

“Lo mein is a noted weakness.” Winston said, nodding. He started walking up the steps, and as he passed by the younger man, he grimaced. “You could have told me before I put on this get up. You know I hate it.” When Isaiah’s smile turned into a snarky grin, the other man sighed. “I helped raise such a cheeky bastard.”

“I am proud to say that I undoubtedly learned from the best.” Isaiah said, walking towards the garage.

The Aventador that he walked towards was not the standard type. It was the third of its kind, the Aventador J. A roofless, windowless roadster that pushed seven hundred horsepower through a seven speed automated transmission. By the time he bothered to remember how much he'd spent on the thing, he'd probably have earned that sum of money, at least gross. Perfect for cutting the long, winding drive from Wayne Manor into the city down by more than a few minutes. The jet black car moved out of the garage and onto the road with ease, and soon Isaiah was flying down the road.

He had a date. Or at least he had a dinner meeting with a female botanist research scientist. Which meant that for Isaiah Muir, he had a date. The meeting had been set up by Britney Harmon, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, who had given him a strict set of marching orders, as Winston had mentioned. The odds of Isaiah following them were slim to none. After all, this was the same Britney Harmon that he’d cajoled into sleeping with him before offering her the CEO position. Her trusting him to follow the “rules” that she’d set out, well that was laughable. At the same time, he knew that she didn’t think that he would follow them. Still they had needed to be said all the same.

Shifting lanes, he let the wind flow through his hair as he sped down the highway. The car handled beautifully, and wasn’t as big as the Batmobile. This seemed like a knife through butter, which gave Isaiah the thought that maybe he’d been behind the wheel of the Batmobile too much recently. It couldn’t be helped. Funny, a large chunk of the money he made every year was spent in keeping up appearances, buying things that he would rarely use. Hoping that music would push the thoughts out of his head, Isaiah turned on the built in iPod that he had in the car.

The Overtones’ Higher played through the car’s speakers, giving the rest of his trip a smooth soundtrack.


Nicole Kane adjusted the horn rim glasses that she wore. She was still amazed that Britney Harmon had given her this meeting. Suffice to say, she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. The black dress that she wore gave a whole new definition to the little black dress that women wore. Of course, thanks to her genetics, Nicole had more than enough to fill it out. Her long red hair had actually complied tonight, instead of doing whatever it was that it wanted. Normally it had a mind of it’s own. Tonight, she had won a definitively temporary battle in the war. She smoothed the wrinkles out of the dress again, and looked around nervously. They were fast approaching the time that Isaiah Muir was supposed to be here.

Which reminded her.

Isaiah Freaking Muir.

God, he was hot. Not to mention powerful. Not to mention rich. Not to mention hot. No wait, she’d mentioned that already. Keeping her nerves under control was something that Kane had been working on since she’d gone off to college. Always plastered across the tv and the newspapers, she’d read about him. How his parents had died, how he had inherited the Muir/Nevins trust, and the amount of money and power that it had. Most people only remembered Wayne Enterprises, but Isaiah was the owner of the Muir/Nevins trust, not Wayne Enterprises. The Muir/Nevins trust owned Wayne Enteprises, Muir Industries, Nevins Corporation, as well as a long litany and host of other companies and foundations and organizations. He was far more wealthy than Bruce Wayne had ever been.

If she could convince him that her research was worth the scratch, to borrow her father’s words, then she would be made. Muir could provide enough money for her to continue her research until...until the day she died. She just hoped that she could wow him with this meeting.

Then she saw him.

Despite being a multi-degree holder, her mind blanked, and her mouth ran dry. Pictures was one thing, seeing him in person was another. The man in the charcoal suit and the blue tie walked towards her, giving her an easy smile. She rose and shook his hand.

“Mr. Muir, it’s a pleasure.”

“No, the pleasure is mine, Dr. Kane.” He said, and waited until she had sat down to do so himself. “I didn’t know you liked Thai.” He said.

“I’d have agreed to meet you at a hot dog stand if it had meant a meeting.” She said, the response coming without thinking.

He nodded jovially. “I’ll keep that in mind. Pad Gotham seems to be all the rage. Friend of mine, cordon bleu chef, Gabrielle Myers said it was very good.” He replied. The waiter came to take their orders and they started with simple appetizers. “Anyway, I like getting down to business as soon as possible, so let’s do that. You, simplifying things, want a job.”

“Um, well, yes, that is basically, I would suppose, what I want.” Nicole said, taking a sip of her wine. She noted that he was sticking with water. “I gave Ms. Harmon the list of my credentials and my resume.”

“I saw.” Isaiah said, leaning back in his chair. “Quite extensive. After you finished your education and a couple of research opportunities in the States, you went abroad. You’ve done research in Africa, as well as Mongolia.” He said and she nodded. “Why Wayne?” He asked.

“Wayne Enterprises is a consistent entry in the Fortune 500, and the company was founded on a strict set of morals. Morals that haven’t wavered despite being in business for over a hundred years. You reward good work and loyalty, and that’s something that I can admire. Let’s face facts, the money would be good, and the ability to conduct my research in one of the top notch laboratories in the world would be too good to pass up.” She said.

“Agreed, but that doesn’t explain why Wayne. Damien Croft, in his mission to rebuild Lex Corp is doing very much the same. He’s lured Amanda Stafford to his team, most recently. I’m sure that Burke at Stark Industries or Barrington at Shaw International would be a good fit too.”

“I don’t think that they have the same vision as you do.” She said, going for mild flattery. She doubted that it would work, but he did have a point. Why Wayne? “Wayne Enterprises has a clear cut vision. Damien Croft is mired in a public relations battle, despite taking over the company years ago. Alex Burke is constantly distracted by his extra business activities as Iron Man. Shaw International doesn’t have the reputation that I’m going for.” Kane said, evenly.

She’d done her homework. That was something that Isaiah could appreciate, but it was also something that he considered expected. They leaned back as their appetizers were served, allowing a temporary break in the conversation. As they started eating, Isaiah waited, taking his time. Giving him a chance to watch her. She ate quickly, with no nonsense movements, designed to save time. There were a few possible explanations for that, but considering how her body language had been throughout the meeting, there was only one viable option.

“Military.” He said after a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your father was in the military, correct?” He asked and she nodded.

“He was a tanker, in the Army. First Sergeant until he retired.” She said. “He taught me a lot, especially about not wasting time. Let me get to the point, Mr. Muir.”

“Call me Isaiah.” He replied, with a small smile. “After all, if you wow me with this next monologue, you may be hired.”

Almost there.

“I want to work for Wayne because I feel as though I can help the Wayne Enterprises research team when it comes to plant based studies. Yes, many people are just going with Genetically Modified foods, and things of that nature. We seem to be racing towards trying to utilize plants for their food nature, to stop world hunger. But what I’m looking at is more than just that. My research is also pharmaceuticals based and I think that coupled with the Martha Wayne Foundation, it could really help people. Obviously, from the business side of things, Wayne BioTech and Wayne Agriculture would benefit from my research as well.” She said. “I have more information to show you, but Pad Gotham didn’t seem the best place to set up a projector and a PowerPoint presentation.”

“And I’ll be honest, I tend to sleep through those. I’m a hands on kind of guy.” Muir said.

Electricity. It shot through her unconsciously. While that could have just been simple words to describe himself, this was Isaiah Muir. If he wasn’t flirting with a woman, he was probably dead. Which meant...was he flirting with her? She took another sip of her wine, to steady herself. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe...flash cards at the hot dog stand?” She asked, going for a joke.

The laugh was a reward of it’s own. “As long as they’re in crayon and use small words.”

“Pictures, not words, Isaiah.”

“Touche.” He said. “How about this.” He started, and then stopped, as the appetizers were cleared and the main course was brought out. He looked down at the Kaeng yot maphrao on sai kai, and then back up at her. “It seemed easier to identify when it was in print. In English.”

“You got a curry that has coconut and chicken in it.” She said.

“I’ll trust you on that.” He said, taking a bite. It was quite good. “How about this: Tomorrow morning, I want you to send Ms. Harmon a much more detailed presentation, and I’ll let her read through it and make the flash cards. She’s more into that kind of stuff than I am and she’ll break it down for me.”

Relief poured through her as he finished his sentence. From what it sounded like, she had the job. He was more than considering it and that was great news. This was the best news that she'd heard all week. Nicole couldn't wait to go home and share this news with her empty hotel room because she had no boyfriend or significant other. Since her parents had passed away a while ago, that meant she could at least share the news with the four walls of her hotel room.

“So...I have the job?” She asked.

“Not yet. Not until you answer a very, very important question.” He said, and then leaned back, letting it hang in the air.

Suddenly her palms got clammy. “Okay, what is it?”

“Do you like to dance?” He asked.

“Dance.” She said, repeating the word, a little dumbfounded. “Maybe it’s because I’m a bit of the stereotypical researcher, but I’m not certain what that has to do with the conversation.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re incredibly beautiful. If I didn’t take you out to a dance at some point, I’d be entirely remiss.” He said.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Isaiah, but while dancing with you would probably be a great night, it’s not why I sat down at this table, tonight.” She said. “I’m not the kind of person who’d mess around with a potential employer to secure the position.” Nicole said. “I take myself and my work very seriously.” She brought the wine glass, up, and he saw that it shook slightly, but not out of anger. “Despite the fact that you...really look good in that suit, I’m not going to sleep with you to get hired.” She said, drinking from the glass.

“Noted. No, I wasn’t insinuating that. I literally was just asking you if you like to dance. Whether or not I hire you has nothing to do with the answer.” Isaiah said. “We’re totally going dancing, whether I hire you or not.”

“What if I don’t like dancing?” She asked, amused.

“Then we can go horse riding. Or bowling. I like bowling.” He said, pausing and considering as he finished the last part of his meal.

“I can bowl.”

“Outstanding. A mensa level IQ and she can bowl. You’re hired.” Isaiah said. “I told you to call me Isaiah for a reason.”

“You’re serious.”

He nodded. "Welcome to Wayne Enterprises."
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Britney Harmon sat behind her desk, looking down at the tablet in front of her. She’d received reports about Wayne Aerospace and from what she understood, they’d been experiencing more than a few resignations and people leaving the company in that division. While she wasn’t sure where they were going, she was highly interested in why they were leaving in the first place. So she’d had all the yearly reviews of the higher ups of that division collated into a few documents and had she was doing cross referencing to see what was going on. Furthermore, she had their own survey responses on her tablet as well. She could have assigned this to one of her assistants, but Britney was hands on, and she also wanted to know why the higher ups themselves were leaving. This was a problem, one that she needed to rectify.

Isaiah hadn’t hired her to have a bulk of important people of one division just up and quit their jobs.

There was a chime in her office. Her main assistant’s voice came through the intercom, with news that came as somewhat of a surprise to the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, something that didn’t happen that often. But judging by the source of the news, that was something that should have been the norm, interestingly enough. “Ma’am, Isaiah Muir was just seen parking.”

Speak of the devil.

“Alright thank you. Claudia, this time if you could try to keep all the buttons on the top of your blouse securely fastened, it’d be appreciated.”

“So he noticed?” Claudia asked.

“He probably did. More importantly, I did.”

“Oh. Right.” Claudia said, her voice becoming a little sheepish.

No doubt she’d try to hike her skirt up a bit this time.

Britney kept going about her work, though she wondered why Isaiah was here. Usually they had semi-regular meetings scheduled throughout the week. One of those meetings was due to happen in a few days. So why was he here? Subconsciously, she checked herself, to make sure that she was looking alright. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, given what she’d just said to Claudia.

When he did walk in, he was not dressed the way he usually was. A pair of jeans, a subdued red t-shirt, with a black hoodie. Beaten up, scuffed sneakers. And somehow he made it work. He was wearing the Hublot that she’d gotten him as a gift a few months ago. Subconsciously that gave her a shot of electricity up her spine.

“Isaiah, um...what’s...” She said, gesturing.

“I’m worth billions. I think I can wear what I want.” Isaiah said, stepping over to her window and looking out at the view of Gotham City. “You look nice though. Very, CEO like.” He said.

She had a cream colored dress shirt tucked into a similarly colored pencil skirt. A red belt was her color accent. Her hair, always long, was straightened. When she rose, he saw that his deduction of Louboutins had been correct. “Well thank you. That’s kind of what was I going for when I woke up this morning.” She said.

“Dream Angels perfume.”

“You should know, you gave it to me for my birthday.”

He paused. “I knew that.”

She laughed, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He'd forgotten. Of course, he'd forgotten. If it wasn't some formula in his head for how much pressure to exert on nerves or bones to cause the maximum amount of damage, of course he'd forget. She didn't hold it against him though. She knew how busy he really was. “I haven’t run your company into the ground, and you haven’t had a special request in a while, so what’s going on?” Britney asked, leaning against a couch that was in the office. It was the couch that he usually lounged on, during their regular meetings.

“How’s the new researcher in the plant department doing?” He asked.

“Nicole Kane, right?” Britney asked, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear as she walked over to her tablet. She started hunting through files. “Very good, from all the reports.” She said. “She’s fitting in pretty well after being here for two months." She stopped and then glared at him. "You’re interested in her, aren’t you?”

“Ms. Harmon, you and I both know that you’re the only woman in my life.” Isaiah said, the easy feel of flirting coming back to him. The look on his face showed that he seriously believed this to be the truth of the matter, regardless of what the actual truth was or was not.

She lifted and eyebrow and rolled her eyes as he leaned in, this time, kissing her. God, he tasted amazing. He was a damned good kisser too. She found herself leaning, into him, demanding more. Their relationship was...unique, if only that that was the first word that came to mind. Britney pulled herself back. “I could fire her.”

“You’re not that petty.” He said, sliding an arm around her, as he sat on the corner of her desk. He pulled her towards him and Britney placed hands on his shoulders to brace herself. “Besides, I’m not taking her to the Gotham Rogues game this Sunday.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. You didn’t legitimately come in just to ask me how the new biologist is working out.” She asked.

“No, I need information on the Assistant District Attorney.” He said. “Something that you can get. Information like who his campaign contributors were, who his ties are, things like that. Easier to get through official channels if you dangle money.” He said.

She nodded. Now that made sense. He made most of his work related requests in person, for security purposes. Britney was one of the few people in the world who knew that Isaiah Muir was always the World’s Greatest Detective, Batman. She’d been to the Batcave, underneath Wayne Manor, and she helped him by getting him the technology that he needed, when he needed it. “Charles always spoke highly of Vincent Rodgers. I don’t think that there’s something to be worried about there.”

“I don’t trust people until I know everything about them.” He said, his eyes shifting in tone.

She was losing him and she knew it. Britney had had a number of conversations with Winston in the past about who the real man was. Was it John Isaiah Muir, multi-billionaire, who had more money than God, was a playboy who went to the parties and the events and had that quirky personality that she’d fallen in love with? Or was it the Batman, the ruthless watchman of Gotham City, who defended the people from criminals? She loved that man too. But somehow she wanted them to be able to coexist peacefully. That was what she felt he had the problem with. Too often he thought with the mentality of the latter, untempered by the human elements of the former. Britney slid a hand through his hair.

“You don’t know everything about me.” She said with a smirk.

His free hand inched up over her stomach, fingers walking their way up, as the easy smile came back to his face.

She gave him a look. “Not in here.” She said, reaching down and grasping his fingers.

“I know the important stuff.” He said, ignoring her. “Likes, dislikes, personality, habits, that tendency to watch bad late night television. David Letterman? Really?” He asked, slowly sliding his fingers out of her grasp and resuming the slow, lazy pace. “Important things too, like measurements, what makes you come alive in bed, and the fact that this will totally change how you think about this office for the rest of your life.” He said.

“I hate you.”

“But you love the fact that I locked the door on my way in.”

She looked over. “Son of a bitch.” She looked back at him, feeling his fingers undoing the buttons of the dress shirt. “I’m going to make you pay for this.” She said, a sly smile sliding over her face, as she reached up and framed his face with her hands. Her skin puckered slightly, as the now exposed skin was treated to the cool, air conditioned air of her office. She felt his fingers dance over her bra, and gave him a look.

“I’m counting on it.”


With Britney working on his request, Isaiah left her office some time later, walking through the lobby of the Wayne Enterprises building. He had another destination on his mind, and he slid behind the controls of the motorcycle that he’d ridden in to Gotham. The design was one of Wayne Motors, but he had been modifying it to a great degree. He had been toying with the idea of working on a Batcycle, and this was one of his testbed designs. The engine had been swapped out, and he was fairly happy with what he had seen so far. Of course, testing it out on the actual streets of Gotham was another bonus.

Weaving through traffic, he didn’t have to go that far to get where he needed to go. It was another Wayne Enterprises building, a decent sized office building. But he was more interested in the basement of the building. Parking the motorcycle, he hopped off and started walking inside. A security guard gave him a funny look and asked to see his identification. That had turned into a humorous exchange.

But soon enough he was on one of the elevators, going down in to the bowels of the earth. When the doors opened, he walked out into the room, dominated by row after row of supercomputers.

“Ms. Rodriguez.” He said, walking into one of the offices. “Or is it Mrs. Santieri yet?” He asked.

The Brazilian woman looked up at him from her computer. While she'd never seen him in anything other than a suit, this different wardrobe elicited no response from her. If anything, she felt that it humanized him a bit more. Few people probably ever saw him like this, considering what his routine of events was. “Rodriguez, still.” She said.

He snapped his fingers and gave her a winning smile. “So there’s still the option that I can steal you away from him.” He said in reply, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Doubtful. Something tells me he’s more inclined to take out the trash when he’s supposed to.” Eva said.

“But that’s so harsh, because I’ve never taken the trash out.”

“My point exactly.” Eva replied. “What can I do for you, Isaiah?” She asked.

“I was wondering how the Journeyman project was going?” He asked.

She nodded, rising and walking out of her office and into the huge room of supercomputers. He followed. “The Journeyman project is going fairly well. We have a number of different anti-virus algorithms that we’ve been working on. The key component that we’re going for is an ability to maintain better removal processes than the last software.” She said. “Some of the other programmers jokingly said we should call it the Batman project.”

“Well, he’s better than the police department.” Isaiah said, before he could stop himself.

She did stop, physically, and look at him. Now that was a funny sensation for her. Normally she would just laugh and make some joke about the police department being hopelessly inept at what they did. Along with a few other police jokes. After all, she had been the accountant and record keeper of the largest and most powerful Mafia family in Gotham City, and quite possibly the country. Maybe she would have done that a few years ago. But now, any insult towards the police department of Gotham City, that was something that she took personally. It upset her, and annoyed her. Strange change of mentality, and the times it did happen, like this, still somewhat surprised her. She knew that Isaiah didn’t mean anything by it, but at the same time, he should have known better.

“Parts of the police department.” Isaiah said, realizing his mistake.

“Right.” She said, waving her hand. “Either way, the project is going fairly well. I’ve registered all my reports properly, is there something wrong?” She asked.

“No, I just like speaking to people in person over reading reports sometimes. You get a better feel for things that way, I’ve found.” Isaiah said. “Reports often time lose the human element and become robotic. I don’t like robotic.”

“Fair enough.” She said. “Do you want to see a test of the current platform?” She asked.

“Lead the way.”
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

With everything that had been going on with the new hire and the various projects of Wayne Enterprises, Isaiah had been a bit too preoccupied to deal with a big problem, something that he had to address now. Someone had robbed Gotham Trust a few weeks ago, but had stolen nothing. Breaking into a bank wasn’t a big feat in Gotham City, even if it was Gotham Trust. That did nothing to impress him. But what bothered Isaiah more than that, was that the would-be robbers were just that. Would be. They hadn’t actually taken anything. The vault hadn’t been touched. None of the people inside had truly been harmed, outside of one security guard who had been gunned down to death when he had tried to stand up to the assailants. Nothing had changed, other than a piece of paper left in the bank.

Let’s play a game.

What did it mean?

They could have broken into the vault. They’d had the time, and the ability to do so, from all the evidence presented. So why hadn’t they? All for a game? What kind of game? And who was behind it all? Who would waste time, energy, and resources to break into a bank and steal absolutely nothing? Whoever had planned this had had to have enough money to pull off the job, considering that they were paying the people involved and there was no actual pay day. That meant money coming out of one’s pocket. So who was this mystery person?

That was what he wanted to answer.

Tracing bank accounts and large money transfers, that was too easy. This person would have kept things under the radar. Probably cash, large amounts of it. Which meant either a heavy bank roll to begin with, or a larger number of smaller cash jobs which had built up to this. So who?

Ignoring the obvious, Isaiah had compiled a list of all reported robberies in Gotham City in the past three months. The computer screens had all of the information listed in front of him, and his eyes were scanning the screens, taking everything in. There were a bunch of different jobs, and many of them had nothing in relation with one another. Unless you were looking for something specific, which he was. Three months was a long amount of time, but not in the world of crime. That wasn’t that much time to plan, and pull off a job, let alone a lot of jobs that would give you the capital to do a big, big job. This meant that the amounts had to be high that they were going after.

Narrowing the search, he tossed out anything that was below five thousand dollars. That was Gotham’s statute for what was considered grand theft. Next, he threw out any location that was even in the same neighborhood as Gotham Trust. These guys were smart and professional. There was no way that they would have committed a job near their intended final target in a three month window. That would have caused the bank to automatically start increasing the amount of security that they had present, and all evidence pointed to security being at it’s normal levels.

He’d gotten that tidbit after a simple access of GCPD’s case files. He was sure that Steven Santieri wouldn’t mind. From there, he’d started cross referencing with the reports that the police had made, to get his hands on any special information. Witnesses and victims would have reported weapons and weapon types. While he doubted that he’d get any real specifics, he was sure that he’d be able to create some kind of common thread. Criminals, especially the professionals, tended to use tried and true methods, including the type of weapon that they used. If you’d started with a snub nosed .38, then that was what you used. Some guys even became famous for it.

That turned out to be a bit of a dead end. While a lot of the jobs had information on the weapons, the categories and descriptions were too general, too vague to be able to build anything off of it. No one had written down anything specific.

Moving on, Isaiah next went to the descriptions of the perpetrators themselves. The reports were vague there too, with general heights. Maybe this wasn’t the way to go about it. Isaiah rose from his seat at the heart of the Batcave and walked over to one of the gym areas that was part of the Batcave. Focusing too much on one thing was something that could block you from seeing the solution to the problem. It was time to clear his head. Looking at the salmon ladder that was in front of him, Isaiah grabbed the bar and started his ascension up the rungs of the ladder. He went through two more repetitions of the exercise before he warmed up the treadmill, starting it up, and setting with a high level of incline.

As he ran, Isaiah let his mind wander. It moved over a variety of topics. One of the first things that he thought about was the status of the Batmobile. He was always tinkering with the vehicle, working on it and trying to improve it. Amongst other things, he had to consider the changing world that he lived in. Not too long ago, there was no Superman, at least, not a Superman that he knew of. How would he deal with a Superman, should he ever come after him. The possibility was slim, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t happen. In this world, anything was possible, even if the probability of it was small. Isaiah was not a Superman or a Wonder Woman or anything like that, so he had to be prepared for as much as possible.

His mind continued to wander, and he thought about the various projects that Wayne Enterprises had going on. The work was extensive, and it seemed as though there was always something happening at any one of the locations that they had in Gotham City, let alone around the country. When you factored in overseas activities, it was amazing that Britney Harmon didn’t go insane every day of the week. He made a mental note to make sure that she was taking her vacation days. If he overworked her, or didn’t let her take care of herself, then he’d be left running the day to day operations of the company and that was something that he definitely didn’t want to do.

Far too busy for any of that.

Isaiah kept running and as he ran, he let his mind finally wander back to the case at hand. It was an interesting thing, this robbery. Well, he couldn’t really call it that, could he? called robbery. Everything had gone off perfectly. There was no trace of them in the vault. The C4 that they’d utilized to scare the people of the bank and to threaten the police with had actually been fake. The real demolitions had been carefully constructed to avoid any kind of tracking. Everything had been planned perfectly. They hadn’t even been seen on the cameras.

That was when he started to slow down, about four miles into his run.

Then he stopped.

They hadn’t even been seen on the cameras.


That should have been the first thing he thought of, but he’d been more concerned with the persons and personalities who would have done something like this and he’d missed the problem that had been staring him in the face. Getting off the treadmill, Isaiah walked over to the computer and sat down in the chair once more. Pulling up the GCPD reports, he saw what he was looking for. The cameras had been tampered with. But the visuals had been tampered with to such an extent that everything had looked perfect. All the cameras had been brought down. When they had finally been brought back up, the video feed from when they had been in there had been altered and everything looked like normal operating hours.

Which meant a hack. But that opened the door to a number of possibilities. They’d had the time to commit such a hack while there, but was that the case? Checking the bank’s operating procedures, he found that they couldn’t have done that. The bank sent everything to an offsite that was purged every day, with physical copies being kept elsewhere. No reports existed of anything happening to the physical copies. This meant that the hack would have had to have been done during the day itself. An outside hack would have been possible, but not probable. Not with the security systems that they had in place. You would have to have been onsite.

This meant that if you searched the records, you’d be able to find out just what you were looking for.

His mouth thinned. Either he was going to have to break into the company’s secure offsite, or hope that they had transferred everything or at least everything in a relevant time frame to the GCPD to help with the investigation. Realistically it was probably the latter. The investigation wouldn’t be impeded, the bank wouldn’t do that. They’d just make sure that it was the tightest window possible so as not to reveal any sensitive transactions or sensitive situations that had gone on inside of the sanctum of the bank’s walls.

He’d have to hack the GCPD, which wouldn’t be that hard. But it’d be easier if he were better at computers. Isaiah’s education around the world had been broad, but he still wasn’t as good as Bruce Wayne. His predecessor had also had the benefit of a wide and varied family that was able to pick up the slack when he was deficient in some category. Isaiah didn’t have anything like that. He wasn’t sure if he ever would. Despite Chase’s burning desire for everyone to get along and be a happy family that had apple pie and ice cream on sundays while watching the football game. Boundless optimism, that one.

Kind of like a dog.

Since thinking of Chase and thinking of a dog reminded him of Chase’s dog, Isaiah’s eyes just narrowed. Damn mutt. Who cross breeded as Asgardian direwolf with a Kryptonian hound? A kid with way too much time on his hands, and no idea how babies are made, that’s for sure.

Still it was kind of cool.

Okay, so he wanted one, but that wasn’t the point.

Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he went back to work, and he smiled when he found everything that he was looking for. He went through the mainframe, ignoring something about a John Doe that had washed up from the sewers. Gotham Trust had indeed transferred their records over to the Major Crimes Unit, in order to aid in the investigation. But the records had been altered and tampered with. The cameras were grainy and that didn’t seem like it should. Someone at the bank maybe? He didn’t have time to entertain theories as to why or what was going on, he had to get to work improving the quality of the imagery. That was going to take time however. The program couldn’t do it instantaneously, not with a file this size.

He was going to have to wait.

Rising from the chair, Isaiah pressed a button on the console. One of the walls in the Batcave slid away to reveal the current incarnation of the Batsuit. Walking over to it, he stared at it blankly for a moment or two before he started to suit up. The suit was connected to the Cave itself. As soon as everything was done, he’d get the imagery that he was looking for. In the mean time, he wasn’t going to forget about the street level crimes that took place. Someone had to stop those from happening.


The metal slid in between the car’s window and the actual door. Now if he could just jimmy the lock the right way they’d be in business. it was an older car, and the electronic alarm wasn’t as good. That was perfect. The car wasn’t worth that much, but when you could get five thousand bucks or so that you didn’t have before, well that was always good. He turned and looked at his partner, who was supposed to be lookout. It was then that he saw his friend’s face covered in fear.

They’d grown up together, having ben on the mean streets of Gotham from an early age. After school, they’d always hung out together, and at age sixteen, they’d turned to petty crime. both of them had been booked through juvenile at least once, and they’d served some time for what they’d done. At least, what they’d done and what they’d been caught and tried for. The jury was still out on everything. “What the fuck is your problem, Casey. You’re supposed to be on lookout.”

His friend just pointed, his hand and his fingers shaking as he did.

When Eric turned and looked to see what Casey was pointing at, he saw perched on top of a street light, a crouched man. He couldn’t make out a lot of the man’s features, he was wearing some kind of suit. But what he could see was enough. The ears, the pointy ears. And the eyes. The eyes were white as fresh snow. That was all that he needed, even if he couldn’t see the symbol emblazoned on the chest.

“Oh Jesus.” Casey said. “It’s him.” He roughly Eric. “It’s the Batman.”

“Uh, Mr. Batman, we’ll uh, uh...stop now.” Eric said, pulling the metal tool out.

The man on the lightpost reached out, and made a downward motion with his hand.

Eric dropped the tool.


Landing on the ground after they’d left, Batman started to walk forward. He stopped by the car and then turned at the sound of squeaky wheels. A bum was pushing a shopping cart that was filled with a wide variety of odds and ends. The homeless man saw him, but he kept pushing the cart, not even breaking his stride. Now that was a bit odd. Batman always got some kind of reaction. When the homeless man reached Batman, he slowed, and then looked at the car that the would be thieves had been trying to take.

“Nice car.” The man said, revealing a mouth missing some teeth.

“You should see my other one.” Batman replied with a smirk.

“I have.” The man said. “It’s been twenty five years since I saw you. Saved my life.” He said, and Batman realized that the man was talking about Bruce Wayne. “They were burning down the homeless shelter. For fun. You stopped them. I don’t care what they ever say on the news. You’re the best.” He said with a genuine smile.

“Always good to have a fan.”

“I’m a believer.” The man said.

Batman stopped and considered. “There’s a Wayne Foundation shelter a few blocks from here.” He said. “They’ve got beds and warm meals for the night.” He said. “Do you know where it is?” He asked. When the man nodded, Batman reached into one of the pouches on the belt, retrieving a carefully folded up fifty dollar bill from a supply of money that he kept in case anything went south and he needed to change out of the costume, but lacked clothing to do so. He handed the homeless man the money. “Get to the shelter.” He repeated.

Then, with a burst of the grappling hook, he was gone.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

He should have seen it. He should have, but he hadn’t.

Batman was on one of the many rooftops of Gotham City. He was looking out over a particular part of the city, Colgate Heights. This part of the city was a decently well-developed section, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t have its fair share of problems. As it was, Batman could see a number of different things that would have required his attention. But at the moment, there was one thing that was consuming his interest and his attention. He was waiting for Winston to give him an answer regarding a question that he had posed to him shortly after leaving Lieutenant Santieri of the Gotham City Police Department, on the top of the Major Crimes Unit building.

“Master Isaiah, I do have an answer.” Winston said, coming through over the communications device.

“Let’s hear it.” Batman replied.

“You were correct. Reuben Corick has a good friend from when he was growing up and from high school, named Casey Breyer.” Winston said, and then gave Batman Casey Breyer’s address, though Batman was already saying it in his head, having committed it to memory.

Reuben Corick was not an important person. At least, he wasn’t in the day to day life and times of Gotham City. He was a local shopkeeper, a sandwich place, which was ironic considering his name. A decently popular lunch spot, it grounded out a living for him and his family. He had been murdered, and his body dumped in the sewers, washing out in the precinct of Colin Britton. There had been no reason for Batman to care about an unidentified John Doe, and the fact that Batman had had that mentality was something that he was going to have to work on.

Yet another thing that Bruce Wayne wouldn’t have missed, he thought, with a grimace. Despite how good he was, Batman knew that he still had miles to go before he felt he could contend with Bruce Wayne. Then again most of the people that he had met considered him just as good if not better than Bruce was. But he would never be sufficed with that. Never. There was always something that he could do better, always something that he could try differently to improve.

Yes, Reuben Corick himself was not important. But Casey Breyer was. Casey Breyer, father of three, member of his local Knights of Columbus, and a member of a bowling team that had made it pretty far in their league. Breyer was the leader of the bowling team, and on the team, was none other than a high school friend of his, Reuben Corick. They had been best friends since before high school, but high school was when the records showed them getting into trouble together and their activities together. Corick had been the best man at Breyer’s wedding, and Breyer had been one of the groomsmen at Corick’s wedding. Suffice to say, they were close friends.

This was the connection between the two of them, and that made Reuben very, very valuable. Because Reuben himself, while a sandwich shopkeeper, was not important to Batman at the moment, his friendship with a man who worked in the security department of Gotham Trust was incredibly important. Vitally important even, considering that one of the problems with the seemingly perfect Gotham Trust robbery was the security footage that appeared to have been doctored. The fact that Reuben, a man who had all outwards appearance of being a normal upstanding citizen was found dead, washed out of the sewers so shortly after the Gotham Trust robbery was enough of a coincidence in Batman’s mind to make it worthy to be investigated.

While he didn’t care about how Reuben was murdered, as cold as that might have sounded, he did care about why the man was murdered. Which meant that now he finally had the lead that he was looking for, namely, which member of the Gotham Trust security team to talk to. He had looked into each one of them and had built quite a dossier on them, getting information on various aspects of their lives. All of it had been done to build a proper picture of what had been going on in the bank before the robbery had taken place. Batman had to have the information in order to see what had changed from the norm. When Santieri had mentioned the name, it had reminded Batman of the research that he had been doing.

Now the identified John Doe had become tied to the Gotham Trust robbery case. It was time to see just what was going on.

After he got all the information from Winston that he needed, Batman rose and reached for his grappling hook. Firing the gun, he was soon moving through the air, swinging down into the city below. He had Casey Breyer’s home address. Paying him a visit was the next part of the agenda for the evening.


Casey Breyer walked outside of his apartment building. He was clutching a bottle of beer in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Hell of a time for him to have an argument with his wife. Then again, she hadn’t really chosen the best time to tell him that she was pregnant with another kid. It wasn’t her fault, not really. He’d just found out that Reuben was actually dead. The man had been missing for a few days, and Casey hadn’t been too happy about that. But this, finding out that his best friend was dead, it shook a man. Shook him to his core. His wife had suggested that they name their next kid after him, assuming it was a boy.

Yeah, they could do that. Casey took a swig from the bottle of beer, a little happy that he was out of his place. He turned and looked up at the building.

It was a modest building, about six stories high. He liked his super, and his super didn’t bother him. Always was there to take a look at the washer and dryer when they acted up. Casey paid his rent on time and took care of everything that he needed to. The place wasn’t going to be big enough though, with this new addition to the Breyer brood. A new place, they had no choice about it. Hopefully they’d stay in Colgate Heights. This was where Casey had been born, where he’d grown up. There was a part of him that liked the fact that his kids went to the same school that their old man did. Continuity. It was a pretty strong thing when you thought about it.

He looked up further, squinting as he did. Something was on top of the roof of the building.

That was his last normal thought, as he didn’t have time to think as he was pulled up through the air, a rope around his foot. His eyes didn’t know what to focus on, so they grabbed a hold of the shattered beer bottle, and the puddle of liquid on the ground. Casey Breyer found himself on the rooftop of his apartment building, face to face with a rather angry looking man. Recognition hit him immediately.

“Aw jeez. Aw Jesus Christ.” He said.

“Not particularly. But you know who I am.” Batman replied.

“Everybody knows who you are.” Casey replied, trying to scoot backwards on the concrete rooftop. “What the hell do you want with me?” He asked.

“Why was Reuben Corick murdered?” Batman asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t…Look, why would I know?” Casey asked, feeling his back connect with an air conditioning unit. Suddenly he had his shirt grasped and he was lifted up slightly off the ground. He stared into Batman’s eyes, and he felt as if his soul was being sucked out of them. Casey was breathing heavily, hyperventilating.

“A man dies, a man who is your best friend, and you’re on the security team for Gotham Trust, a bank that gets robbed two days after your friend goes missing, and you expect me to believe that’s coincidence?” Batman asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know, Breyer. You’re going to do it now.”

Breyer looked away, his breathing hitching. Batman reached out and grabbed the man’s jaw, wrenching back so that Breyer had nowhere to look but into the eyes of the Dark Knight.

“Look, these…these guys came and told me that they needed me to doctor some of the bank’s footage. Said they needed it to look like nothing was happening. I don’t know what they wanted. I told them no. They said they’d hurt my family, and I told them I’d call the cops.”

“What happened next?” Batman said, when Breyer trailed off.

“They said that I’d be hearing from them.” Breyer replied, and tears formed in his eyes. “The next day, Reuben was kidnapped. What was I supposed to do?” He asked. “They knew everything about me. So I…I did what they wanted. It was hard though, to cut together everything they wanted, in the time frame. They told me that he’d be okay, but they….” He said, and the tears started to fall. “They killed my best friend.”

“Who is…they?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how they found me. But they gave me a card…with a phone number to call them on it…” Breyer said. “I’ve got it on me….h-here.” He said, and reached into his jacket pocket, his fingers trembling as he pulled it out. He cursed as he dropped it and picked it back up, his hands shaking. "Don't...Don't let them know you got it from. M-My kids, they could be next."

Batman took the card from him and rose, leaving the man on the rooftop.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Isaiah sat in the Batcave, looking at the card on the table in front of him. He’d done some quick analysis on it, but nothing too in depth. Rising from his chair, he looked down at the card, where he had it set up on an observation tray and let his eyes wander over it one more time. There was only so much information that he was going to be able to get out of it, he knew that. Staring at it wasn’t going to get him anywhere further. Isaiah had changed out of the Batsuit and was dressed in far simpler attire. It was the clothing of a man who was getting ready for bed, and a part of him was considering doing just that. He turned at the sound of Winston walking around the Batcave.

“What were you able to find?” Winston asked.

“It’s a card, with a phone number on it.” Isaiah said. “Standard business card size, three and a half inches by two inches.” He said, running a latex gloved hand over the card in question. “The stationery is typical of any number of establishments around Gotham City, which doesn’t narrow anything down, despite some idiosyncratic ridging designs on the face of the card. There’s mild edging issues on one corner, suggesting a number of different possibilities, but most likely that it was jammed once when being put into a pocket, and developed the consistent crease from there.” He said.

“The writing?” Winston asked, coming over to where Isaiah stood, and handing him a metal glass.

Isaiah looked in the glass and saw that it was a mixed drink of various vegetables and protein mixes. The drink was horrible tasting, even if he did need them. Gone were the days when Isaiah could simply enjoy a glass of Ovaltine hand mixed by Eleanor Muir. Now he had to drink disgusting tasting protein and vitamin nutrient shakes so he could keep beating the life out of would be criminals. He started drinking as he took a step back, so Winston could get a closer look.

“Strange, nothing is printed on it, not in a traditional way.”

“It’s business card size, but it isn’t a business card. It’s a way of leaving notes for someone, from an older way of doing things. Someone went through a deal of trouble for all of this, I think.” Isaiah said and Winston nodded.

“The ink looks like it was from a fountain pen, too. There’s two ink blots from small drips.” Winston said, turning the spotlight on the card up a bit. He turned and smiled. “Your father used to do things such as this. I remember he used to have little cards like this, with the Wayne and Muir logos on them, and he would write out short messages, if he was on the go.”

“He had a mild dislike for technology sometimes. Texting and voicemail were banes of his existence.” Isaiah said, nodding.

He walked over to a glass case on the wall, where the Batsuit was hanging up, and stared into the hollow eyes. This case that he was working on was interesting, to say the least, and all of this was going back to the original message that had been left for the GCPD when during the pseudo bank robbery. Let’s play a game. Slowly the pieces were starting to fall into place and Isaiah knew that whoever he was up against, it was someone incredibly smart. This took planning and a way of thinking that decidedly went against the grain.

“I suppose your best option is to call the phone number.” Winston said, turning to Isaiah. “But that’s a matter best left to the morning.” He said.

“It’s not that late.” Isaiah said, and saw that Winston was turning all the computers and lights off. “Winston, what are you doing?” He asked.

“You’re forgetting what tomorrow is, aren’t you.” Winston asked, though it was more rhetorical than anything. “Tomorrow is your interview with the Gotham News Network.” He said. “Britney called, said that if you weren’t there and in top form, she was going to do something dastardly to your car.” He paused. “I don’t believe she was referring to any of the ones in the collection above ground, either, Master Isaiah.”

Isaiah smiled and closed his eyes. Some sleep would be good. Some sleep was needed. Britney’s empty threat not withstanding, she would be upset with him if he wasn’t in full John Isaiah Muir form the next morning at the interview. Something that she had been working on for the past week or so, she had sprung it on him, and he had said yes, only because there was a reason why he had hired her to be the CEO of the company, besides her legs. Britney Harmon could hustle people quite well when she needed to get something done, and she wouldn’t have stopped until he said yes anyway.

Better to give the woman what she wanted, so she would get off his back.


“We’re sitting here today with John Isaiah Muir, the owner and chairman of the Muir/Nevins trust, which, as everyone knows, is a multi conglomerate corporation, owning Nevins Holdings, the Muir Corporation, and the global, multinational juggernaut that is Wayne Enterprises.”

Juliet Sutton turned to where Isaiah was seated across from her. The interview wasn’t live, and they were taping now, for it to be edited later and broadcast that evening. She was wearing a blue dress that seemed like it would have been more at home in the Fifties. If there was one thing that no one ever said about Juliet Sutton it was that she was understated. The woman had a presence in everything and anything she was involved in.

“Glad to be here, Juliet.” Isaiah said with a wry smile on his face. “You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do was call, you didn’t have to schedule an interview.”

“Isaiah, we’ll get to that part of the interview later, you know that. First, I want to talk about Wayne Enterprises.” She said. “You’ve rebuilt the company very well over the years, and you’ve successfully taken Wayne Enterprises back to where it was before the Chrell Invasion, congratulations on that.”

“Thank you, but the hard work wasn’t my own. Realistically I can only take a small percentage of the gratitude for that.” Isaiah said with an honest expression. “Wayne Enterprises employs thousands upon thousands of people around the world. Each and every one of them deserves that congratulations and praise more than I do.” He said. “I’m lucky to have one of the hardest working employer bases in the world, and one of the metrics that we continually try to hit is worker satisfaction and ensuring a proper place to work.”

“That is a good point. What answers do you have for critics that have negative words for some of your dealings with other companies that have less than sterling reputations or have contracts that don’t always generate the greatest of publicity?” She asked.

“Everyone has to make a living.” Isaiah said. “Companies like LexCorp and Stark, their bread and butter for decades has been the military industrial complex. Stark makes guns. Highly, highly sophisticated guns. LexCorp does research. Very potent, but very necessary research. We don’t live in a world that’s sunshine and rainbows.” He said. “It’s not like the government has the ability to call Superman or the Avengers for everything. They need to protect their soldiers and the people.”

“Speaking of superheroes.” Juliet said and Isaiah laughed. “What?” She asked, intentionally going wide eyed.

“I knew you were going to get on this train of thought. You’re going to ask me about the return of Gotham City’s vigilante, the Batman. It’s been what, a little over a year since the first fully reported sighting?” He asked and she nodded. “Well, what can I say, if you look at the metrics, and I’m a big numbers guy, then the crime rate has started to come down. We’ve seen that now, since we’ve had enough time to generate the data. Obviously we don’t know who he is, but it’s been over twenty years since there was a Batman, so it can’t be the original.”

“What makes you think it’s a he?” Juliet asked, with a smile on her face, and Isaiah took that moment to look away from Juliet and the cameras and the spotlights, finding Britney who was standing in the shadows, so to speak.

Her face told it all.

“I think we’d be calling her Batgirl or something like that.” He said. “Look, I’m not saying he is a she or she is a he. Gender identification is currently a hot topic issue, and I don’t want anyone thinking that I don’t support people on their journey of life and self discovery. I called that my early twenties, my late twenties and now. But if you’re asking me if I think that Batman is necessary, then yes, you’re damned right I do.”

Juliet nodded and then turned to her camera man, signaling that he should turn the cameras off.

“Let’s take a break.”


“That was a nightmare.” Isaiah said, walking through the hallways of the Gotham News Network building close to two hours later.

“You didn’t look uncomfortable when you were flirting with her.” Britney said.

“Flirt…flirting? I was not flirting with her.” He said, taking a drink from his bottle of water, and then shaking his head in disbelief, a similar look on his face.

“Uh huh, your eyes just happened to keep drifting below her neckline.”

“If you had a chest like that, you’d want people to notice too.” Isaiah replied, earning him a glare from his CEO and semi-girlfriend. “Not that, I mean, you’d really need to do anything to get people to notice.” He said. “That’s besides the point. I was not flirting with her.” He said.

“Yes, you were.” Britney said as they reached the elevator. “At least have the decency to admit to it.” She said primly.

They stepped into the elevator and Isaiah pressed the button to close the doors. “Honestly? She’s rather annoying. Yes, she’s award winning, but that doesn’t mean that I like her personality or her style. She got way too personal in an interview that was supposed to primarily be about Wayne Enterprises and our vision for Gotham 2025. Juliet didn’t need to ask me about my personal life. That being said, I gave the interview that she wanted while trying to salvage the interview that I wanted, because I knew it was what you wanted. You wanted this interview, not me, and I said yes, because it would make you happy.” Isaiah said.

“That’s not even…you don’t get it…Now she’s going to think that you’re available and that she can keep flirting with you or date you and she can’t.” Britney said, and he turned to her.

“Here’s the kicker. If you don’t like what happened, do something about it. Buy the company for me, Britney, I made you the CEO for a reason. Then I’ll be barred by employer and employee relationship rules.” He said, and the doors opened. “Oh wait, that rule is still in place, and you get the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. Also, I like annoying you so let’s see what happens.”

“God, I hate you.” Britney said, shaking her head.


Isaiah was in Wayne Manor, sitting in front of his television. Britney was next to him on the couch, stretched out, jean-clad legs in his lap. She was eating Greek yogurt, and he had a cup of coffee in his hands. They were getting ready to watch the television interview.

“You know what does annoy me?” He asked. “You didn’t even say I looked good in my suit.”

“You always look good in your suit, Isaiah. I don’t have to keep reminding you.”

“I’m a billionaire with eccentricities and quirks. You know I have confidence issues.” He said.

“That’s a cover for your real job where you beat the crap out of thugs on the street.” She said. “You stop murderers and last week you broke up a small drug ring. You don’t need me to tell you that you look good in your suit, doofus.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” He said, squeezing one of her calves.

They watched as Juliet Sutton’s show, named the Sutton Report, went through the intro. As she was starting to speak, both of their phones started going off. Isaiah looked at his and then frowned. Turning to Britney, he held up the phone and she saw the message.

“It’s the same thing I got.” She said, and he was up off the couch, throwing her legs to the side.

Someone or some group of someones was breaking into Wayne Enterprises.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Contemporaneously to the events of Batman: Gotham City Police Department

There were a lot of people watching, so he knew that he had to move as efficiently as possible. Batman knew that his employees were some of the best. Obviously, they wouldn’t be waiting for the police to get her to be doing something about these intruders. He knew that Eva Rodriguez was in the building. She was a high level admin and though he’d tried to dump everyone off of the Wayne Enterprises’ servers so he could get access to the information that he needed with no interruptions, she had found a way around his temporary hack. It was only a reminder that the money he paid her was well spent.

The problem though was that it meant that wherever she was, she was probably able to see what he was looking at. Which meant that she was probably also following him using the camera system, and he would be hard pressed to stop her from sharing the information with her fiancé, Steven Santieri. The last thing he needed was the police getting involved before he was able to get to the bottom of what was going on.

Nobody broke into his company without him getting some answers.

Batman’s access to the computer servers told him where the intruders were, and gave him a glimpse of what they were after. They had been in one of the computer server rooms, giving credence to the idea that they were after technical data. But the cameras were telling him that they were moving through the biology-based sciences at the moment. His mind was already at work, figuring out the fastest way to get to them to cut them off. It was going to be harsh and a little taxing on his body, but it would ensure that he got to where they were.

Less than five minutes later, Batman was removing an air conditioning grating and looking down in to a large storage room. The room was filled with a variety of different chemicals and toxins that were used on a day-to-day basis by WayneBiotech and WayneChemicals. He watched as the armed men in the room maneuvered a woman around, and he recognized her, almost instantly. It was Nicole Kane, the geneticist and botanist that Britney had insisted that he hired. She worked late nights, from what he remembered, so it made sense that she would be here.

Instead of jumping into action, Batman decided to wait a moment. If anything drastic were to happen, he could still jump in and stop them from hurting her, and he wanted to see what exactly these men were like. One of the easiest ways to do that was to observe them when they thought they weren’t being watched. Their motions were fluid and with purpose. They were decidedly well trained, which meant that this was not some run of the mill kind of robbery. That evidence was already in place when one looked at how they had entered and the efficiency with which they had moved through the Wayne Enterprises building.

This was cementing it in his mind. Batman’s eyes narrowed, watching as the armed men set to work, tying Nicole Kane and gagging her. One of them lashed out with the buttstock of his semi automatic weapon, causing a gash in the side of her head. Blood started to flow out.

He’d seen enough. Extending a hand to the ceiling, Batman fired his grappling hook, and it found purchase in the ceiling, puncturing through. Leaping outwards, he dropped down towards the ground, throwing a batarang as he did. The throwing weapon hit the light switch, causing a short that plunged the room into darkness. Batman coalesced, like oil surrounding an object, around one of the armed men. They retreated back upwards, the man’s semi automatic rifle bucking wildly in his hands, as rounds started spraying outwards. Batman slammed an elbow into his head and then dropped him, back flipping and descending one more time. Down below the armed men were in disarray, firing upwards, though they could not see.

One of them shoved Nicole Kane roughly, slamming her backwards into some of the most densely packed shelves of chemicals. She bounced off of them and landed on the floor, as the standalone shelves rocked back and forth. The blow knocked her unconscious and she lay there on the ground, silent.

The armed men continued to fire, but Batman dropped a small device from his belt, one of his many miniaturized flashbangs. Lenses dropped over his eyes to shield him from the glare, but there were no such preventive measures for the people he faced. They clutched at their faces, some of them dropping their weapons, and that was the opportunity that he seized, dropping from the sky and landing on the ground. There were five men left and they all started trying to grapple with him.

It would be their last mistake of the evening.

The fighting didn’t take long, but in the process the place was wrecked. Once the last intruder had been neutralized, Batman turned to look for Nicole Kane. What he saw made his eyes widen.

She had been on the ground and multiple shelves of chemicals had been dropped on top of her, during the fighting. Kane had been exposed to a whole host of plant based chemicals and toxins. Moving over to where she was, he started to remove the shelving that lay haphazardly on top of her. Once she was free, he started to check her vitals. Miraculously, she was still alive, but Nicole Kane was going to require some serious medical attention if she was going to make it out with no harm. This was beyond what he was capable of at the moment, so Batman took out a small coin shaped device and placed it next to her.

A blue Bat logo appeared. It was a homing beacon and it would appear on the Gotham City Police Department Major Crimes Unit’s computer systems. There was more than one reason why Isaiah Muir and Wayne Enterprises had been so generous to donate to the GCPD, and he was grateful that foresight was one of his many gifts in life.

Santieri would be here soon, and Batman knew that he needed to be on his way. Going over to one of the men who was starting to come to, he picked him up and hoisted him into the air, snapping him back in to full consciousness by ramming his spine into the wall.

“Talk.” Batman said. “What do you want? Who do you work for? In that order.” He said.

“We’re here for some information on the servers.” The man said. “I don’t know who we work for. We were hired by some guy who wanted things to stay quiet.” He said.

“What information?” Batman asked, shaking the man. “Quickly, I’m getting tired of not hitting you.”

“Look Bats, I’m not that high up on the ladder here, okay?” The man said, as Batman’s grip tightened on his neck. “All I know…is that it had….to do with…some company secrets. They wanted some….patented information.” The man said.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to get much more out of this man, and he knew it. Still…it was worth a shot.

“I’m going to tell you a phone number, and you tell me if it means anything to you.” He said, and then said the number.

The man in his grip thought about it and then shook his head. “No, it don’t mean nothing.” He said. When Batman brought his fist back, the man let loose of his grasp of Batman’s forearm, and waved his hands in the air. “Honest, man, Jesus. I know who you are, I’m not going to lie to you.” He said. “The number doesn’t mean anything to me.” He said.

Batman nodded and with a sudden movement, threw the man against another wall, knocking him back unconscious. Then he proceeded to cuff the men that were in the room. There was no need for any of them being able to get away, not when they needed to pay for everything that they had done.

He needed to see what information it was that was being accessed, which meant that he needed to take a look at the diagnostic that the Batcomputer was running on the Wayne Enterprises servers. The diagnostic had started from the moment that he had left the Batcave, but that didn’t mean much despite the amount of time that had transpired. The Wayne Enterprises servers’ were large and numerous. Burning through all that data in a short amount of time was impossible. But if they were after patented information, then it was only a matter of time before he was able to figure it out.

He would have to narrow the search based off the area. Each department and division had separate server space and all of it was compartmentalized to be local to the department’s location in the building. If the armed men had struck here, it meant that whatever they had been interested in had something to do with Wayne Chemical and Wayne Biotech. Unfortunately, the unconscious men in the storage room were not the only ones who had broken into Wayne Enterprises. They had others with them, and those men were still in the building, still in the Chemical and Biotech hub areas.

His gait increased, moving through the hallways. Accessing the information that he needed from the Wayne servers, he saw that Eva Rodriguez was still plugged in, and was actually actively attempting to circumvent the data spike that had been uploaded. Good. If she could contain the digital attack, then they could lock down the whole building and keep everyone inside. Santieri’s cells would be full of people who could give him the answers that he was looking for.

Such as who would be stupid enough to try to break into Wayne Enterprises in the first place.

Coming around the corner, Batman smiled, slowing down his pace. There were a large group of armed men, decked in the same regalia as the ones before. Cracking his neck, he reached down and pulled out two Batarangs, holding one in each hand like they were knives. Running forward, he picked up speed, until he leapt in the air, his knee striking one of the men directly in the head. As he moved through the air, Batman threw the Batarangs, pulling out another as he did. The two throwing weapons knocked guns out of hands, and as he came down, he pushed up off the ground, hitting another with a punch that knocked him out cold.

Moving through the group, he started engaging them, just as another yelled out for everyone to retreat.

Whatever it was that they were looking for, they had gotten it and it was time for exfiltration, lest they be caught by the police or worse, had to keep dealing with him. Batman knew that he wasn’t going to get all of them, but he was going to get enough that he could get some answers.

A few minutes later, he was moving towards a special exit of his own, dragging one of the men with him by his right foot. The man was unconscious as he was tossed into the Batmobile. Almost halfway through his journey, Batman had received the report that Steven Santieri and the Major Crimes Unit had arrived on scene. That was good. He’d cuffed the second batch of people that he had found, and Major Crimes would have a field day.

But this one had looked like a higher up guy on the ladder, so to speak, which meant that Batman was going to be questioning him, a bit more personally.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

The man woke up, shaking from the cold. He didn’t know where he was, but he was sure that he was in trouble. He was sitting in a chair and was tied up, bound heavily. He could see his breathe when he breathed in and out and that wasn’t a good sign, considering most of his gear had been taken off, so he had almost nothing to keep himself warm. Wherever he was, it looked like it had been designed out of concrete and concrete only. It was dark and he couldn’t see too well, though there were a few subdued light fixtures in the room. Slowly, he started to piece everything together, trying to remember what had happened. Going into Wayne Enterprises, that was easy enough to remember. They had gotten to the computer servers that they had needed to and had started pulling the information. Everything was good there. Shortly after that was when things had started to go south. Then of course, he had had to show up.

The God damn Batman.

Which meant that….

“Shit.” He said, with a sigh.

“Shit is right.” A voice said, seemingly from all around him. “Calvin Randall Oswald.” The voice said, coming from behind him. “You’re from North Point, career criminal. You’ve led a very checkered life.” Now it was seemingly coming from the right. “We should talk about that, don’t you think?” Now it was coming from a distant corner, as if far away and he had to strain in order to hear it.

“Look, I’ll tell you what you want to know, you don’t need to-“ His words were drowned out, quite literally, as freezing cold water was dumped on him from above. It fell all round him and he was instantly soaked to the bone, which wasn’t good considering the fact that the temperature was so cold. Calvin started shaking almost immediately, and he tried to remember what temperature was hypothermia. He knew that Batman didn’t kill, but that didn’t mean that Batman had to leave him with all of his fingers or toes, let alone all of his limbs. Wet ropes were that much harder to try to get lose as well.

“You don’t tell me what you’re going to do and what you’re not going to do.” The voice said. “Remember,” the voice said, dropping to a whisper and suddenly appearing as if right over his shoulder, “remember that I have your life in my hands.”

There was a snapping sound and Calvin shook, water falling from his hair as he trembled. This was more than he had bargained for and he knew it. Nobody wanted to be alone with the Batman. It was your worst nightmare. It was if he had all the answers and knew exactly where to push you in order to get what he wanted. Nobody survived an interrogation with him. Nobody ever had.

“I get it, I get it. What do you want to know?” He asked.

“What information were you there for?” The voice asked.

“We were there for a formula for something, some kind of drug. I don’t know what it did.” Calvin said, continuing to shake. He was looking around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, but he couldn’t see it, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’ve been over the Wayne files that you transmitted. Nothing out of the ordinary was taken.”

“We’ve got a really good hacker, to make it look like nothing important was taken.” Calvin said. “They needed the formula for something else, something that they were working on.” He said.

“Who is they?”

“I don’t know, Batman. I swear. We get the contracts from someone else.” He said. “You need to talk to Dylan Banner.” He said. “Banner knows what’s going on, he knows what’s going on with everything, all the time.” Calvin said, shivering. Some of his words were turning into teeth chattering as he froze.

“Dylan Banner is in Blackgate Penitentiary. How would he be behind any of this?”

“All I know is that Dylan was the contact for us when it came to getting the contract. He’s in the minimum security section, for God’s sake, it’s not like Blackgate is anything like Arkham. It’s a real prison. He’s in there for fraud and insider trading.”

“I know why he’s there. He tried to manipulate stock futures and got caught.”

Calvin nodded. “Yeah, yeah. He’s working as a guy on the inside now, hooking people up with jobs and putting them in touch with people to work with. He’s like an information broker or something. Please, I’m telling you everything I know. You’ve got to let me go.”

The shadows appeared to converge, and from the darkness a man stepped forward, dressed in the outfit that struck absolute fear into the hearts of the world.

“Because you told me what I want to know, that means you’re absolved of your sins?” Batman asked. “Do you believe that absolution is yours, Calvin?” He asked. “Do you really?” He asked.

Calvin closed his eyes and thought about it. “If you believe it, I believe it.” He said after a few moments. “But if you don’t, then I don’t.” He said.

“That’s a good answer. Guess what. I don’t.” Batman said.


“Gaining admission into Blackgate isn’t the easiest of things to do.” Winston said, looking over Isaiah’s shoulder at the computer screen as Isaiah updated case files. “I do suppose you’ll have to practice your climbing skills, Master Isaiah.” He said.

“Getting in, is easy. It’s make sure that I don’t get seen.” Isaiah replied. “But there are other ways to go about getting this information. Something as simple as visitor hours.” He said. “The only difficulty here is that obviously, it can’t be Isaiah Muir who goes and visits Dylan Cooke. It has to be someone that he would believe, someone that he would be willing to talk to.” Isaiah said. “That means I have to come up with a way to get him to trust me.”

“A disguise?” Winston asked. “Back when I was working with Mitchell, we used to disguise ourselves as the enemy all the time.” He said.

Isaiah shook his head as he saved the files, and got up, starting to shrug out of the rest of the Batsuit. “No, it has to be more complicated than simply changing my clothes, or altering my face.” He said. “He needs to think that he can trust me, and he won’t do that if he’s never heard of me.”

Winston looked over a series of equipment printouts as Isaiah finished changing into clothes more suitable for a regular person. He walked over to the computer and started tapping a few buttons. Isaiah came over and looked as Winston pulled up a few documents and displayed them on the multiple giant computer screens. Turning, he looked at Isaiah, and gave him an inquisitive look. Isaiah, for his part, smiled and started nodding. This was perfect and it was exactly what he needed in order to make getting Dylan to trust him. If there was one constant in Isaiah's life, it was that he could always trust Winston to come through for him when he needed something. Even in the clutch. Especially in the clutch.

“You ever do this with Mitchell?” Isaiah asked.

“We once had the Italian pretend to be a fascist for three months in order to blow up a key piece of train to derail the Nazis, pun intended.” Winston said. “It’s not a matter of making sure that everyone believes you, it’s only a question of ensuring that the proper people believe you. Now, it shouldn’t be that hard to pull off. I mean, the level of disguise creation isn’t difficult at all, not at all.” He said.

“It’s a very good plan.” Isaiah said.

“What’s a very good plan?” Britney asked, from the stairwell, walking down towards them.

“How to get information on the people who broke into Wayne Enterprises.” Isaiah said.

“We need to figure out damage control for that, and quickly.” She said, walking up to him. “Hey, Winston.” She said, giving the old man a kiss on the cheek. “People are already asking why you haven’t given a statement, especially Juliet Sutton." The CEO of Wayne Enterprises said, a distaste in her mouth for Sutton. The woman had gone from praising Wayne Enterprises and Isaiah Muir in that interview on the Sutton Report to crucifying them for having lax security and letting their employees get hurt, less than three hours after that interview had been broadcast. "I can have public relations get a draft up in twenty minutes, if you can give me a few moments of screen time.” Britney said.

Isaiah thought about it for a moment and then nodded his head. “Sure, that’s not a problem.” He said, and then sat down at the computer. “Britney, I have to finish working on this. That’s going to take me about half an hour. Make sure that the public relations team is ready to go. We’ll do the media statement from Wayne Enterprises itself, I’ll meet you there.” He said and she nodded, turning and starting to leave.

He turned in the chair, swiveling to face her. “Britney, the man I interrogated told me that they had hackers to make it look like nothing important was taken, but that means that something important was copied.” He said. “Have the team look into it and make sure that Eva Rodriguez is working on it as well. She’s the best we have and one of the best computer programmers in the world. If she can’t figure it out, then we have a serious problem.” He said.
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

After the events of: Batman/Red Arrow: Welcome to Wonderland

“Matches fucking Malone.”

The voice was a bit above a whisper, and a bit below a yell. But it carried a lot of energy despite the volume and it drew the attention of some of the people in the large room that made up the visitor’s center of Blackgate Penitentiary in downtown Gotham City. During the Chrell Invasion, the island had been destroyed, and during the rebuilding of the city, the new Blackgate had been erected in the city itself. As the city had continued to rebuild, there had been talk of rebuilding the island, or creating a man-made island to move Blackgate, but as of yet the idea had not found purchase.

“So you remember me.” Matches said, and the other man, an older man across the table from him nodded.

“Oh yeah, I remember you. You used to be one of the best guys when it came to making people disappear.” The other man said, with a smile. “The cops never were able to pin anything on you.” He added, with a wink.

Matches moved the toothpick in his mouth and grimaced. “You keep yapping like this, and they won’t have to work hard anymore, Vinny.” He said.

“What’s going on, Match? What can I help you with?” The man asked. “You’re on the outside, you probably know everything that’s going on in the world. Why’d you ask to see me, today, at this time?”

“What do you know about Banner?” Matches asked, jerking his head in the direction of the white-collar criminal who sat near them, talking to a man that looked like a lawyer. “I want to know everything you know about him.” He said.

“Banner? He’s a white-collar guy. He’s not a serious guy.” The man said, a mild look of disgust on his face. It was evident that he didn’t consider Dylan Banner and himself to be the same class of criminal. “He thinks he’s the king of this place, and I can’t wait for one of the gangs to take him out. You know the gangs have been building up their ranks from this place right?” He asked. He shook his head and looked over at Dylan Banner. “You know, I remember a time when people like you and me, we worked respectable jobs. Back when Don Vitale ran things. Hell, I know you worked for the Sionis family for a while.”

“What did I say about you yapping on?” Matches asked, a glare in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Sionis….or Vitale.”

“It’s a shame what that cunt Rodriguez did to him. Turning snitch like she did. You heard that she’s marrying Santieri?” Vinny asked. “I was working for the Vitales when Michael had Santieri’s father killed.”

Matches grimaced, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth and pointing it at the man across the formica table from him. The look on his face made it clear he was beginning to get annoyed with the other man’s penchant for going on a tangent. “Ya getting off topic, ya mook. Banner, tell me about Banner.”

The other man nodded, lifting his hands up in a don’t shoot manner. “Yeah yeah. Banner is in here for some soft bullshit like fraud and insider trading. Once he got here, he started acting like he knew things and he was better than everyone else. I guess he’s got a lot of contacts on the outside and he started using them to organize jobs.” The man said, and then he stopped. “You looking for a job, Match? Is that it?” he asked.

“Something like that.” Matches said, his gaze resting on Banner. “Who’s the lawyer?” He asked.

“No clue. Banner’s got a lot of connects, a lot of connects.” Vinny said. “He’s big with a few of the gangs, but that’s making enemies with the others. No one is around to keep them in check, you know? Vitale did that, but Vitale’s been gone for months. Morricone looked like he could take over, but…” Vinny trailed off, dragging his finger around his face, to mimic what had happened to Morricone.

“The gangs are starting to be a problem.”

“Then there’s that new guy, who took over from Supreme. Cobblepot, I think he calls himself. Someone’s gotta put the gangs in their place otherwise Gotham is going to become a warz-

Matches held up a hand, to stay Vinny’s remarks. Banner was getting into some kind of a heated discussion with his lawyer. “So he’s a power broker.” Matches said. “That’s good to know.” He said, rising up and nodding at Vinny. “Good to talk to you Vinny. I’ll see you around.”

“Wait, where the hell are you going?” Vinny asked. “I thought we were having a conversation, Match.” He said, and Matches waved and started walking away. “Ah, screw you. You always were an asshole.”

Matches reached into his pocket and pressed a button on a small device that he had brought with him, masqueraded as the garage door opener on a set of keys. In reality it was a wireless transmitter that told the computer systems of Blackgate Penitentiary to purge the camera records of a few key places. He’d ensure destruction of the hard copy of the visitor logs soon enough.

There would be no trace that he had been in the building, none at all.

That was just the way that he liked it.


“Who the fuck are you?”

Matches had the lawyer by his jacket and held him up against the side of the tall skyscraper that the lawyer’s law firm called home. They were in one of the alleyways on the side of the building. People were walking by, but no one was going to pay them any mind. This was Gotham City after all. A man could still get an honest day’s work done without having to worry about people breathing down his neck. Taking the toothpick from his mouth, he tossed it away. “Don’t worry about who I am. Worry about your client. You represent Dylan Banner, don’t you?” He asked.


“I want to give him a message.” Matches said. “I want him to know that I’m watching him, that I know how to help him get one of the biggest scores he’s ever had in his life. No more petty shit for him to deal with. He’s done big jobs before, but this one, his finder’s fee is going to be incredible. But he needs the right people to do it.” Matches said, and shook the lawyer. “You know what I mean?” He asked, with a healthy dose of menace in his voice.

“I…I think I do. Why do you want to help my client?” The lawyer asked. “It’s not everyday that something like that happens. How do I know you’re not a cop?” He asked.

Matches smirked. “Do I look like a fucking cop?” He asked.


“Good.” Matches said, and let the lawyer go. He straightened out the man’s suit, brushing off invisible specks of dust. “Now you give him my message and you tell him that I’ll be in touch to hear his answer.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do that right away.”

Matches nodded and started to walk away before turning back, as the man stared straight at the opposite wall, marshalling his thoughts. “You work with a lot of white collar criminals, don’t you?” He asked and the lawyer nodded. “What about regular guys, guys like me?” He asked. The lawyer nodded again. “What do you know about Supreme’s gang?”

“I know Supreme isn’t in charge of it anymore.”

“Good, I hated that fuck.”

The lawyer’s eyes lit up. “I can get you in. I can get you a meeting with the new guy in charge. Just yesterday I introduced them to these four guys who got out of Blackgate. Quality workers, this new guy is always looking for quality workers.”

“What’s his name?” Matches asked.

“Cobblepot.” The lawyer said and Matches raised an eyebrow. “Look, I don’t know why these guys call themselves what they call themselves. Who was ‘Supreme’ that supreme over, am I right? I mean, the guys I got in touch with Cobblepot, they call themselves Slaughterhouse.” He said.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Remember, I know how to get in touch with you.” Matches said, lifting a fist.

“That you do. That you do.”


“I hope your foray into Blackgate yielded more diamond that coal, Master Isaiah.” Winston said.

Isaiah sat in his chair in the Batcave, looking at one of the screens. There was a new folder he was working on, entitled "Slaughterhouse". Always good to keep the collecting ongoing. “It did.” He said. “Calvin Oswald told me that the attack on Wayne was to get a formula. He also told me that Dylan Banner was the guy who helped organize the job or at least had a hand in it. I got in touch with Dylan's lawyer. I still don’t have any answers concerning what exactly they took, but Eva Rodriguez will figure out. I don’t doubt her abilities.” He said, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes for a moment. “I want to know what they took and for what purpose.” He said. “This isn’t a simple matter of corporate espionage; I can feel it.” Isaiah added.

Winston nodded. “While you are pondering that, you’re still not any closer to a much larger problem.” He said, and pointing up at the top of the screen, where a folder was visible. It was everything he had on the bank robbery that wasn’t an actual robbery. “Someone broke into Gotham Trust to prove that they could. That’s a dangerous foe, Master Isaiah.”

The other man smirked. “Not one that doesn’t have my attention. I ran that phone number against all the databases I have available. No results.”

“Your attention or the Batman’s attention?” Winston asked.

Isaiah shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his face. “Is there a difference?”

“There bloody may need to be. I don’t rightly think that the Batman can show up at Gotham General to look in on Nicole Kane and inquire as to her current state. Do you?” Winston asked, an inquisitive look on his face.

“That’s on the books for today, isn’t it?” Isaiah asked.

“Yes it is.” Winston replied. “Mayor Jones has also asked you to be in attendance for an announcement today at City Hall.”

“He already announced his reelection bid.” Isaiah said and then paused. “This is about Desmond Carroll, isn’t it?” He asked. “The City Council is proceeding with its plan to reopen Arkham.”

“His secretary wouldn’t tell me.”
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

Accepting the glass of champagne from the waitress, Isaiah gave her a smile and a nod before taking a sip from the glass. Turning back towards the man he had been speaking to, Isaiah half nodded once more, making it seem like he was listening to what the man was saying. “Sure thing, Vincent. You talk to Britney, and we’ll see what we can get on the books as far as a meeting. If you want to set up some kind of manufacturing deal between Wayne and Daggett, I’m sure we can find a way to make that work.” Isaiah said, and stepped away from the conversation. The last thing he wanted to do was work with Vincent Gibraltar. He wasn’t exactly known as the most honest of men to do business with. Which, Isaiah noted as he found the person he was looking for, was something that he might have to attribute to this man in the future.

“Mayor Jones.” Isaiah said, shaking the man’s hand. The mayor interrupted him before he could speak again.

“Isaiah, I’m glad you were able to make it to the conference. Your family’s contributions over the years to the mental health and welfare of Gotham have been instrumental and vital. I wouldn’t have dreamed of having the announcement without having you here.”

Isaiah nodded, trying to get to his point more quickly this time around. “You don’t think that a party like this is a bit of an overkill for the announcement that the city is reopening Arkham Asylum?” He asked. “Seems a little, I don’t know, in poor taste.”

“A celebration is designed to lift people’s spirits; the institution is designed to help those with problems.” The Mayor replied, looking past Isaiah and waving at some donor before his eyes flitted back to the much taller man. “Seemed apropos.”

The other man shrugged. “Maybe. That nine-month deadline, that’s a hard time?” He asked. “The property is rather dilapidated from what I remember, not in the best of condition. It’s going to require a lot of work.” Isaiah said and then he smiled. “That’s the real reason why you wanted me here for this announcement, isn’t it?” He already knew the answer. Isaiah had figured it out on the drive over from the hospital after visiting Nicole Kane.

Announcing the city was going to reopen Arkham Asylum was not something that would require a direct invitation to someone like him. Yes, the Wayne name and the Muir name was virtually synonymous with Gotham City, but that didn’t mean having him there for the announcement was that necessary. No, the mayor had wanted him there for a specific reason, and he had a good feeling what that was.

“We could use Wayne Industries, your construction side of things to help us with the renovations and the rebuild.” The mayor said. “It’s a great source of good press.” He added. When Isaiah gave him a pointed look, Albert raised a hand in mock surrender, along with giving the other man a sheepish smile. “Okay, it’s not like you need to raise your stock with the people of Gotham. I’ll grant you that. But you’re the kind of guy who likes to help people.” He said. “You donated a huge sum of money to the GCPD a few years back.” He said.

Isaiah shrugged. “The police needed the help.”

Albert snapped his fingers. “And the people of Gotham do too. You can help out in an immense way, seriously.”

“Alright, alright. We’ll have Wayne Industries work on the project and fund it through the Martha Wayne Foundation.” He said. “But I better not find any of this talk during your next election cycle, which, if I recall correctly, should be starting sooner rather than later.” Isaiah added, pointing at the Mayor. “The Foundations and the company stay out of politics, we donate to all sides.” He said.

Jones nodded, with a wry smile on his face, the smile of a man who thought he had his opponent cornered. “Of course, of course. You do play the fences, Mr. Muir, I give you that. Sooner or later, you’ll have to pick a side.”

“I’m on Gotham’s side. Whoever is going to best take care of the people, that’s the horse I want to see win the race. Sometimes that’s members of one party and sometimes it’s not.” Isaiah said. He watched as someone came up behind the Mayor, one of his assistants and touched him on the shoulder. The conversation was ending and when the Mayor turned back around, Isaiah motioned that the man should continue on with whatever it was the assistant had come to speak with him about.

Isaiah sipped at the champagne as the Mayor of Gotham City walked away from him. Looking around the room, he saw that the conversations were beginning to dwindle down. It was probably time for him to make his exit. There were other things that required his attention. Setting the glass of champagne down on a table, Isaiah began his journey to the exit. When he saw others who tried to get his attention, he kept moving, not wanting to get bogged down. There were still plenty of people here who, like Vincent Gibraltar would think this a good time to try to talk to him about business or some other concern. He was ready to move on from this place.

“Mr. Muir.”

He stopped at the sound of the voice. It was accented, Viennese. The voice itself was strangely familiar, but he could not place the owner. Truth be told, it was the only reason why he turned around, as he would have kept going otherwise. But there was something about the voice that he found so familiar. Turning, he looked into the eyes of a man a few inches shorter than him. The man sported a beard, though it was close to the face. The beard and his hair was salted with gray. There were clear laugh lines around his eyes and he wore a smile at the moment. Dressed similarly to Isaiah, he wore a suit, but had opted to go without a tie.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” Isaiah said.

“My name is Dr. Hans Oberhauser.” The man replied with a smile. “I don’t suppose you would know my name, I’m not as particularly famous as you.” He said. “I’m to be in charge of the new Asylum, from what the Mayor and I spoke about a few days ago.” He added.

“Dr. Oberhauser.” Isaiah said. “The name is familiar, but I never placed the face with the name. You’ve had some interesting theories regarding therapy in your patients. Interesting in a good sense.”

“Of course.” The Viennese man replied, jovially. “Interesting is a term usually applied in a wide variety of ways. I’m sure you weren’t insinuating I was some kind of crackpot.”

A smirk came across Isaiah’s face. “You’re a psychiatrist. One could make the argument that all psychiatrists are crackpots.” He said and the doctor started to laugh. “That can’t be the first time you’ve heard that.”

“No, not at all. Just the first time from a man who has some clearly deep-seated issues.” Hans said, and there was a glint in his eye. Something more than what was up on the surface.

It immediately raised suspicions within the taller man. Suspicious was probably his base mentality, so now he was highly interested in knowing what the man meant. But then the psychiatrist laughed, a full and hearty laugh.

“I’ve heard the news reports of some of the crazy things you do. Daredevil like stunts and the women whose company you keep? Don’t get me started on that.” Hans said and Isaiah relaxed, but only slightly. There was still definitely something there and even if there wasn’t, he was going to find everything he could, as he would with anyone who was put in charge of Arkham.

“Speaking of those, I should probably get back to them. I’m late for a plane trip to the Amazon.” He said. “You know, it’s one thing to have a car idling, but a private jet? You wouldn’t believe how much that costs. Can’t stay a billionaire if you spend it without a care in the world, you know?”

“Of course, of course. It was a pleasure seeing you, Mr. Muir.” Hans said.

“The same.”


“Why did I get a data dump from the Office of the Mayor, Budget and Management, the Department of Public Health, the Department of Construction and Permits, the Department of Finance, the Gotham Inspector General, the Public Building Commission, and Water Management?” Britney asked, looking up from her tablet.

She was sitting in a chair at one of the spare desks in the Batcave. Swiveling in her chair, she stared at the back of Isaiah’s chair, as he ran searches through the various spikes that he had on a myriad of governmental agency databases and other databases around the world.

There was silence for a few moments.

With a glare at the back of the chair, she spoke again. “I asked you a question.” She said, raising her voice, even though she knew he’d damn well heard her the first time.

“Probably a typo from some intern.” Isaiah replied, not moving.

“They mentioned you by name. They mentioned Wayne Industries by name and they mentioned the Martha Wayne Foundation by name.” She said.

“Oh right. I committed Wayne Industries to work on the renovation and rebuild of Arkham Asylum and told the mayor that the Martha Wayne Foundation would pay for it. I didn’t have the time to talk to you about it and for that I apologize. But there’s a number of reasons why I want to do it, and we’ll find a way to make it work.” He said.

“Could you give me just one of them?” Britney asked.

“If we rebuild it, I have all the blueprints and knowledge of the compound.” Isaiah said, wheeling a little bit backwards and turning to face her. “I know how to get in and get out. I know how others can get in and how they can get out. We can add in specialized surveillance augmenting the standard set ups that everyone else knows about. I’d be able to control Arkham Asylum without having to step foot onto the island.” He said. “I think that’s worth the money it would cost the foundation.” He added.

“Okay. We’ll make it work then.”

“Thank you.” He said.

By moving backwards, he’d given her a good look at what he was looking at on the main screen. She rose from her seat, brow furrowing. “Dr. Hans Oberhauser?” She asked. “I’ve heard of him. He’s pretty famous when it comes to therapy.” She said. “He’s supposed to be on the staff of Arkham now?” She asked and he nodded. “That’s quite a coup. You’ll have to do the research on him. By the way, I also got a message from Vincent Gibraltar’s assistant. We’re not actually trying to do some kind of business deal with Daggett are we?” She asked and he shook his head, remaining silent. “I figured as much. Daggett isn’t the greatest when it comes to following some kind of moral code.”

He nodded, turning and looking at the computer. “Daggett Industries is on the rise; it has been for some time. It was one of the companies looking to do a deal with Jerry and Cadric before I came in.” Isaiah said, referencing her former employer. “I wouldn’t say that it was one of the reasons why I was willing to meet with Jerry, but it was a nice benefit, that’s for sure.” He reached out and tapped the desk with one of his fingers. “Where are we with the security check up after the break in at Wayne Enterprises?” He asked.

“I’m actually supposed to speak with Eva about that tomorrow. She’s got some kind of an update. Do you want to sit in on the meeting?” She asked. “I don’t know how thorough it’s going to be, it might be a waste of time at this point.”

“Yes.” He said, after considering it for a moment. “I have a meeting with her fiancé tomorrow night anyway. It’d be good to be able to give Lieutenant Santieri a few points of direction for him to follow.” Isaiah observed. When Britney gave him a quizzical look, he clarified. “I don’t have the meeting with him.” He corrected and glanced over at the corner of the Batcave where the collection of Batsuits were behind their sliding door. “But there is a meeting, nonetheless.”
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

The ground gave way, mud oozing through the treads of his boots. Rain pelted him and the rest of the island. The Narrows had long ago been abandoned. Despite the city’s best efforts after the Chrell Invasion, getting people interested in moving back to the area had been hard to do. There were a few people there, the homeless and vagrants, but they kept to themselves for the most part. That’s not why he was here though. Batman was on the part of the parcel of land that had once been home to some of the most fearsome and psychotic people on the planet. The wrought iron gates had the words twisted into them, even if the gate itself swung open these days, no lock on the metal.

Arkham Asylum.

The compound was large, roughly twenty acres in size. Built on a small share of the Narrows island, the buildings themselves were dilapidated and run down, after decades of being left alone. He walked through the main courtyard, taking it all in.

The amount of insanity that had roamed through these halls was staggering. Everyone who ever had was also the proud owner, even if they didn’t know it, of a file on their exploits in the Batcave on his servers. There was so much history here. Bruce had put people in here with an intent that they would be helped. Unfortunately, more often than not they had not been able to find the treatment that would help them.

Many people had always questioned the original Batman’s motives in letting these people live. With the number of lives claimed by people like Harvey Dent or Pamela Isley, they felt it required mental gymnastics to come up with a viable reason as to why Batman had let them live. The tide shifted overwhelmingly in the favor of the death penalty when one contemplated the Joker. He walked up the steps of the main building and stepped inside. Batman could empathize with their concern. Sooner rather than later, Joker always escaped, and then more people were killed.

But it was about upholding a standard. You could not become a monster to fight monsters. Otherwise you would quickly find yourself fighting alongside them, against the good of mankind.

It did leave a jaded world view, he had to admit. In his writings, Bruce had long ago dispatched with any thought that the world was a decent place and that people could be trusted. The words on the pages had been written in ink guided by a cynical hand. Reaching down, Batman removed a small palm sized box and pressed it. A display hovered in the air, giving him the blueprints of the island’s compound. Normally, he wouldn’t have needed it. Batman had repeatedly viewed the blueprints of major buildings and locations in Gotham City so that they had been committed to memory.

The mind was like a computer however, and he had started to delete the files, so to speak. There were parts he would keep, for the most part though, he was getting rid of it. The new Arkham Asylum was going to take the place of this relic, and those were the designs that he needed to remember. He would remember them, because he was silently watching the architecture and design team who were planning what the new Arkham Asylum would look like.

A benefit of being Isaiah Muir when the sun was up.

Walking through the hallways he looked through the different rooms of the security center. He needed to be sure nothing was necessary before the bulldozers came in. The last thing he wanted was for something he would need in the future to have been carelessly lost because he hadn’t been willing to pay attention. Details were important. That was something he’d learned long ago. His fingers brushed over old security tapes, most of them ravaged by the test of time.

Drawers were opened and documents rifled through.

There was nothing.

He continued his search going through the different rooms, taking his time with each one. The night was young and this was the last time he would be here. He’d been here multiple times over the past few weeks, going through everything with an attention to detail unrivaled by anyone on this planet. His eyes took everything in and he slowly moved up the stairs. There were only a few places he’d saved for last. This was one of them. The roof had caved in a bit on this floor, with some of the windows broken. Rain, sleet, and snow had damaged the doorframe, forcing the wood to warp. Using his shoulder, he pushed into the door, forcing it open. With a eerie sounding rattle, and an explosion of dust and wood particulates, the door gave way. The sound was louder than anything these halls had heard in a long time. Crossing the threshold, Batman stopped in the foyer of the room.

He was in Dr. Hugo Strange’s office. The man had been in charge of Arkham for decades. The long tenure had afforded him a wealth of knowledge about the criminally insane. Bruce had had more than one dealing with the man. Eventually Strange had become an inmate of the asylum he’d once been in charge of. Despite all of that, this office had always been considered his. The last man in charge of the asylum, a man named Dr. Gerard Dalton had even called it the Hugo Strange Office. On the wall of the room, there was a painting of Amadeus Arkham hanging up, the founder of Arkham Asylum.

Batman walked over to the desk and pulled the worn leather chair away from the desk. Looking down, he saw that of the three drawers, one was missing and one was slightly off its hinges. His fingers grasped the handle for the intact drawer and he pulled. There was nothing in there except for a few pens and paperclips. Moving to the drawer that was off the hinges, he was equally rewarded. He sighed, looking up from the desk at the rest of the office. There were a few bookshelves and he walked over to them.

Dust had been collecting on the different books that were there for some time. A small replica of a human skull rested on one of the shelves. His eyes looked over the books. Everything was in order. The organization followed a standard alphabetical order, ignoring any differences in subject material. That was one way to do things.

He turned back and looked at the painting of Amadeus Arkham. While he wasn’t sure exactly what it was he was looking for, he knew he was looking for anything out of the ordinary. Batman pressed a hidden button on the side of the cowl. Lens slid over his eyes, allowing him to filter his vision through a variety of methods. There were different vision modes and he started swapping through them, as he looked around the room again. His movements slowed, as he saw that there was indeed something behind the painting. It could be a safe and the safe could have nothing, but he had to check.

Removing the painting, he set it on the floor and lifted back up. The safe was built into the wall, and it was roughly at his chest. Opening a pouch on his utility belt, Batman removed a small pen length metal cylinder. He pressed the pen up against the four corners. Thermite fired each time, burning holes into the safe. There was no reason to bother with trying to crack it. Replacing the cylinder in the pouch, he pulled away the cover of the safe. There were a few documents in there, but as he looked through them, he saw that there was nothing important. But there was a small container in the back of the safe, which he took. Flipping it over in his hands, he popped it open.

There was a small video cassette in there. He turned it over and his eyes widened behind the cowl as he read the words written on the cassette.

This was something.


Finding a way to view the video cassette had taken some time, but finally, Batman was seated behind the desk in the office, a small television on the desk. He popped the small video cassette into the player and pressed play. This cassette was one of a series of cassettes. The complete set was in the Batcave. At least, it was a complete set, until today. This was another cassette that he had never watched before. They were videotapes of a series of interviews, conducted by Dr. Hugo Strange, with one man.

The tape started playing.

Batman stared at the man behind the table.

”I wish to speak with you regarding something you alluded to during our previous conversation.”


“You spoke about a series of events, having to do with one of your crime sprees.”

“That doesn’t ring a bell. I’ve had a lot of crime sprees, Doc.” The Joker said, his voice dispassionate and disinterested. It sounded as if his mind was elsewhere.



Strange nodded. “This is the one where you ended up in vaults not on any blueprints, underneath Gotham Trust.”

The Joker’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes, the one where ole Batsy lost his mind from Scarecrow’s fear gas and he and I had a good time chasing each other. I tormented him for a little while, but he ended up getting the drop on me.” He said. The Clown Prince of Crime leaned back in his metal seat, the chains connecting him to the table dragging with the motion slightly. “Why do you want to know about that?”

“It’s about something you said.”

“Doc, I don’t remember half the things I say, and the things I do remember saying are things I’m trying to forget.”

“You said you spoke to Batman about children.”

The Joker snapped his fingers. “Right! I asked him why he kept putting that silly stoplight costume on little kids and marching them out to die. I mean, I don’t mind a little batting practice, who wouldn’t, but it’s got to be cancerous on the conscience.” He laughed as he spoke. His voice dropped to a whisper. There was hatred here. Rage. Apathy. A sense of pain too. “Batsy didn’t like that. Not….one…bit.” The voice changed, moving up in tone. “But that’s what I like to do. Upset the order of things. Remind that flying rodent that this game he plays is such a sweet one for me.”

“The game?”

“He’s doing it to make himself feel better.” Joker said. “I tried to help him. You see, I like to think of myself as a bit of a therapist too.” Joker added, pressing a hand to his chest. “And doc, as one qualified physician to another, Batman has…well, he’s got bats in the belfry!” Joker exclaimed, bursting out in laughter that seemed almost…cartoonish.

“You’re just trying to help him.” Strange repeated.

“Exactly! Haven’t you heard of the healing power of laughter?”

Strange chuckled and the Joker pointed as if that right there was the point he’d been looking for.

“What was the Batman’s response?”

“Same thing it was after I stabbed him.” Joker said, grinning. “I remember the sound of that knife going into his flesh. It still tickles me. It’s like music, the way the skin pulls apart, the metal cuts through tissue. I like using a knife when I can, Doc. You get more up close, more personal. You can hear the life leave them.”

“But you didn’t kill him that day.”

“No, he’s still alive prancing around on some rooftop while I’m in here. He gets all the fun. Can you believe….” Joker said and then leaned forward, putting his arms on the table before continuing, “Can you believe the world we live in? I create art. I’m an artist. What do the press care about? A man dressed up as a bat. This town needs an enema!”

Strange shook his head. He was clearly trying to get Joker to stay on the subject. “But what did he tell you?”

Joker sniffed. “We were both there, on the ground, lying against the wall. He had the knife sticking out of him. He thought he was going to die. I thought I was going to die. We were going to die together. It was going to be beautiful.”

“And he told you?”

“He told me something I’ll never forget.” Joker said, his eyes turning malevolent. “I’ll remember it forever.”

“What was it?”

The eyes shifted. Anger and disdain filled them.

“You think I’d tell you, you half rate quack?!” Righteous umbrage now. Joker leapt to his feet. “That man trusted me with a secret and you think I’d rat him out? I’m not a snitch, Hugo! I’m not a puppet you can drag in here and make me dance when you tell me to. I’ll kill you, you little shit.” Joker said.

With reflexes that didn’t seem right, Strange reached out with a taser and zapped the Joker, who fell backwards, the chains jerking him so that even though he hit the ground, he was yanked back up off of it partially. He hung here, the back of his head leaning against the edge of the table, his hands up above his head.

“You think a little bit of electricity is going to get to me? Give me all you’ve got Hugo.” Joker said, eyeing Strange over his shoulder. “I’ll rip your fucking ear off and feed it to the children at the soup lines.”

Strange came around and Joker lashed out with one of his legs. The doctor plunged the taser into Joker’s chest and held it there as the other man’s body was wracked with electricity.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally, it stopped.

”What did he say?”

Drool was starting to pour out of the Joker’s mouth as smoke wafted upwards from the charred flesh.

The madman smiled. “I’ll never tell you that secret, Hugo. Go fuck yourself.”

Batman blinked, not realizing he’d been leaning in closer to the television. The tape skipped a few frames and then static appeared before it went dark.

“What secret?” He wondered aloud. “And why does it keep coming back to Gotham Trust?”
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Re: Batman

Post by Mir »

After the events of Batman: Gotham City Police Department

There was a sense of peace and quiet that ruled over Gotham in the night. It was a sense of calm which itself was a conundrum. Gotham was ruled in the night. But that rule was held by many forces. Pulled in different directions by those who simply wanted to live their lives. The problem was how those people lived their lives. There were those who went to work and went home to their families. There were also those who made it their business to interfere with those people. That was why he existed, it was his purpose. To set things right and stop those who would impose their will on others for reasons that society refused to tolerate. He was a function of that belief that people shouldn’t have to deal with maniacs who would harm them. A simple belief, but one that required an iron will to enforce.

Batman stood atop the rooftops looking down upon the city. He had already had a busy evening. Stopping a few would be robbers of an electronics store, he had shifted his focus to elsewhere, stopping a mugging that could have easily transitioned to a stabbing. These were small time crooks, some of whom were people at the end of their rope. They too had been like the others, but circumstances had pushed them in one direction instead of another. While he could sympathize, he could condone their attempts to set themselves right. Not when it came at the expense of others.

It was about time to call it an evening, when reports started coming across the police scanners of something that was out of the norm. He paid attention, detail was important. Here, the details were telling him that this was not the usual fare of the evening. That alone piqued his interest. He turned and in the distance, Batman could see the floodlights above the Major Crimes Unit building start to turn on. The cowl helped his vision and allowed him to see better than others. There was a bit of a fog throughout the city, but even still, in the distance the lights were puncturing the night sky.

Pulling his grappling belt, he dropped down into the alleyway next to the building he was in. There stood his method of transportation this evening. A sleek black vehicle, the Batmobile was equipped with everything he would need, and somethings he didn’t often need. After all, detail was important. Entering the vehicle, Batman started it up, moving out of the alleyway and onto the street. As he did, people gave him a wide berth, both pedestrians and other vehicles.

People knew who was in the car. They knew better to get in the way. Why get in the way of a savior making the streets safer?

“Winston, are you getting any detailed reports?”

“There are reports coming in, Master Isaiah.” Winston replied over the speaker system. “I’m plugged in to the GCPD lines and the MCU lines. The reports are of a large creature of undetermined height. It appears to be able to fly. Thus far, it has not interacted with people though…” He trailed off.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?” He asked.

“We have an unconfirmed homicide. Apparently it grabbed someone flew up and dropped the person to the ground.”

His foot pushed the acceleration, moving the vehicle forward faster. He didn’t have time to check for stoplights, but at this time of the night the traffic was easier to weave in an out of. Pressing a button, he disengaged a muffler designed to reduce the sound of the vehicle. Now people would know he was coming and they would get out of the way. Or at least try to.

He trusted his abilities to move through traffic when he needed to, but it was good to warn people sometimes. Those that deserved it.

He flew down the streets. He was in Uptown and the reports were coming from the Downtown areas. The highway was going to be his best option. He got onto it and the acceleration continued, as he weaved his way through the late night traffic. He was easily going thirty miles above the speed limit, but he had a feeling no cop was going to stop him. Not only did the GCPD leave him, relatively, alone, but they had far more pressing matters than trying to stop a car that had a horsepower that far exceeded their own.

“Keep me updated.” He said.

“Well, it’s now more of the same.” Winston replied. “Though, we are getting reports that the creature has the appearance of a large, mutated bat.

He raised an eyebrow. “A bat?” He asked.

“Yes, Master Isaiah.”

That was interesting and unexpected. He continued his drive. If they said that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, then he was not impressed.

But on the plus side, he had a very good idea now of what was taken from Wayne Enterprises the night of the break in. Through Bruce’s writings and his own research, he had found that Bruce had acquired a number of different formulae to keep them safe. The Man-Bat serum by Dr. Kirk Langstrom was one of them. If there was someone out there using it, it was far to coincidental what with the break in as well.

While it didn’t indicate who it was who had conducted the break in, it did illuminate some part of the mystery.

Coming off the highway, he found himself facing what looked like gridlock traffic. That made sense. People were running scared with the creature on the lose. Batman turned off the highway and went down below onto the lower drive. Stowing the Batmobile in a safe place, he exited the vehicle and started his ascent. He needed to be up and have a vantage point. If this thing could fly then it could go anywhere.

There didn’t appear to be a rhyme or reason to what it was doing, according to what Winston was telling him. The creature was simply causing chaos.

He reached the top of the building he had scoped out. It was an old newspaper office that had been turned into apartments and condos some times before. Atop the building, he looked down. He could see the creature. The reports did not do it justice. It was large and it was menacing looking. The thing had wings and even though he was a bit away, he could hear the beating of the wings when it lifted up off the ground. Batman could only imagine what it sounded like to those below, terrified for their lives.

His eyes found someone who didn’t appear to be terrified. A man was up on his feet, with a pistol and he was firing towards the creature.

Batman could identify him. He knew the names and the faces of the important people who worked in the Major Crimes Unit by heart. Even if they didn’t think they were important enough to justify it.

James Conroy, an up and coming officer within the GCPD who was working his way from the ground up in the Major Crimes Unit. Some kind of beef with the second in command, Joel Irskens.

Conroy was in over his head though, for certain. He took the grappling hook and fired. It was going to be tricky, but he had an idea. Leaping off of the building he swung down. The creature had finally stopped moving around and he was able to get a bead on it, shifting as he moved through the air. Reinforced boots connected with the body of the creature, knocking it backwards. Batman landed crouched on the ground. Follow through was important. Many ignored that. Without good follow through you weren’t set up for the next thing.

He rose from his crouched position and turned slightly, making eye contact with Conroy. The police officer gave him a nod of thanks.

“Any way for me to help?” Conroy called out and Batman nodded.

“Get people to safety.” He replied. “GCPD has already got a response force coming. But they’re going to need people cleared out of here.” He said.

“How do you know this thing is going to stay here?” Conroy asked.

There was a high pitched primal scream in the distance.

The creature had awoken.

“I’m working on that.” Batman replied and started running.

By the time he got there, the creature was back on it’s feet, and had shredded a bystander into two pieces. The ground shook slightly with each step that it took. Batman cocked his head to the side, studying his opponent. The creature definitely fit the bill of the Man-Bat serum. But that wasn’t what he was looking for. Whoever had been exposed to the serum, they were struggling with the changes the serum had caused. This was not someone who had been exposed in the past.

The creature’s eyes were moving all around the city. There was a lot of noise, a lot of light. It was still dark enough that the light wasn’t going to affect it that much, but the noise definitely would. That was part of the problems of the Man-Bat serum. One received the strengths and abilities but also the weaknesses. The ears were moving at a fast pace, trying to compute and deal with the amount of audio stimuli. Not only was it a weakness, but it was an exploitable weakness. Thank God for that.

Suddenly, the creature’s eyes snapped onto Batman. It snarled, saliva dripping from the fangs. At least it looked like the thing was going to be fixated on him instead of other people. Always a good thing. Batman braced himself as the creature came charging. At the last moment, it lifted in to the air for a slam. Not a charge. He threw himself, rolling out of the way as the bat creature descended. Batman heard the whine of helicopters in the distance. The GCPD was on it’s way and would be here soon. There were definitely possible problems with this. Everything he’d seen thus far indicated the creature had good reflexes. Combined with an agility in the air that outstripped helicopters, this could be a recipe for disaster.

He threw a test batarang. Time to see how durable the skin was. There looked like there was a small caliber gunshot in one of the creature’s legs, from Conroy no doubt. But that besides that, he needed to know what he was working with. The hardened metal sliced the skin open, a fresh cut. In response, the creature turned towards him and reached out. The speed was more than he had been expecting this time, and the grab found purchase. Batman was held, as the creature lifted up into the air, beating its wings.

This provided itself a useful opportunity. Batman struggled against the hold, trying to reach part of his utility belt. When the creature transferred him to the claws in his legs, he was able to do it. Managing to get to the compartment, he freed one of his trackers and shoved it into the gunshot wound. Then he put one of his smoke pellets in there and closed his eyes. The fire from the initial explosive was enough to cauterize the wound, trapping the tracker in the creature.

Batman activated shock gauntlets in his gloves and started punching. He had to bring the thing back down to the ground. He had to. Even with the tracker, he didn’t want to risk it. Everything was going just fine, until a GCPD helicopter came too close and pulled the creature’s attention away from Batman. One of the officers in the helicopter had an M4 carbine out and he opened fire. The creature pulled away, whipping through the air and giving Batman a close approximation of whiplash. From away it went up and the bullets followed, tracer shots mixed in so the shooters could see where they were going.

From up on high, Batman was dropped.

He tumbled down through the air. He was easily a few hundred stories up. His eyes shifted, looking to see what his options were. His mind was racing, possibly faster than he was plummeting. The grappling hook fired and he trusted that he was going in the right way. The hook lodged with a skyscraper and he was pulled towards it. The pain shooting through his shoulder joint was incredible, forcing a gasp from Gotham’s Dark Knight. Disengaging the grappling hook, he pulled himself with his left arm up onto the landing of the building. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the night sky. Checking his shoulder, he found out that he had not, in fact, dislocated it. A minor miracle, all things considered. Pulling himself up, he rose and watched as one of the helicopters collided with the creature.

Then he watched as the creature continued to fly, moving away from the area.

“Winston, I put a tracker in the creature, activate it please.” He said.

“I did, but whatever this is, it’s moving too fast.” Winston replied.

Batman paused. “Use the Wayne Enterprises servers to boost the signal.”

He fire the grappling hook and descended. He needed to get to his vehicle and fast.


She was sitting at home with the news on, when she started seeing what was happening. Her eyes wide, Eva scooted forward on the couch, where she had been sitting, under a blanket and reading. The news had been on, noise in the background as she waited for her fiancé to return home. Now she could tell that it would be some time before he returned to her. Turning and facing the television set, she watched, in horror, as some kind of creature attacked the people of Gotham. This was something she had never seen before, and had never thought was possible. It immediately evoked images and thoughts of the Chrell Invasion.

Her eyes drifted to her phone. In times like these, she thought to call Steven, to make sure that he was okay. She clamped down on that need though. He was handling something incredibly important and lives were at stake. Other people needed his attention.

She interlocked her fingers and squeezed lightly watching the news. Her eyes went back to her phone however, when it lit up with an alert. Her brow furrowed slightly until she realized it was an alert from work, at Wayne Enterprises. Picking up the phone, she unlocked it and looked at the alert.

Someone or something was accessing the Wayne Enterprises servers.

After the attack and the hacking job, she had intentionally put a series of trackers into the servers. She had wanted to see what was going on with the servers and whether there had been any ghost tracking programs or hidden programs. Additionally, she had been interested to know why Batman had been able to respond to the attack on Wayne Enterprises so quickly. He had been there faster than the police almost as if he’d known before the police what was going on.

Now, her protocols had been triggered and she was getting an update on what was going on. Eva rose and grabbed her laptop, flipping it up and turning it on. Logging in, she went through the system reports to see what was happening. Someone was using the servers to boost a signal. Navigating through the files, she tried to access the information. A frown flitted over her features as she found her access denied. This was weird in and of itself. There were not many people who were able to legitimately lock her out of a database. Working through a reroute, she found herself looking at a wall of code.

This had been put together by someone who knew their way around a computer, for sure. Unfortunately for them, Eva was just that much better. Her fingers flew over the keyboard of her laptop, moving code and wheedling her way through the weeds. It didn’t take her long, not when she was motivated to figure out what was going on.

She quickly found that the servers were being utilized to help a tracking system compute a real time tracking set up.

Eva couldn’t tell what was being tracked, so instead she decided to follow the system receiving the information. A map of Gotham appeared and she saw two blue dots. One was labeled as the tracker and the other as the tracked. The tracker was chasing the tracked entity. The tracked entity was moving erratically, while the tracker was moving along clear roadways. It had to be some kind of vehicle or something, a normal person couldn’t move that quickly. More importantly, what would be moving at that speed and following the roads so closely?

The tracker was about to catch up to the tracked when something on the news caught her attention and she looked up.

The newscaster was up in a helicopter and they were focusing on a sleek black vehicle roaring into the open square. Cars were everywhere but the driver was quite adept at maneuvering around them.

She looked down and saw that the two dots were on top of each other and then looked up as Batman emerged from the vehicle.

Then it clicked.

Everything made sense.

Isaiah Muir was the Batman.
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