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by Black Condor Originally presented at DC/Marvel: The Merging as Batman #7-11 |
A handsomely dressed man stepped out of the limousine with an umbrella and an envelope in one hand and a mixed bouquet of flowers in the other. A few of the elderly people sitting on the benches watching the rain craned their necks up to take a look at the gentleman. He was not the usual type of person to visit this place.
The man exchanged a few friendly glances with the people, and allowed a woman who was being pushed in a wheelchair to pass through the sliding door.
He walked to the receptionist's desk. The receptionist was a college-aged, blonde-haired woman who was slouching over her desk, but she sat up straight when she saw the handsome stranger.
"Hel-lo," she said in a sultry voice. "How can I help you?"
"Hi," he responded, deftly avoiding her flirty eyes. "I'm Bruce Wayne, here to see Agatha Haggschwarz."
"Oh yes," she answered, with a hint of disappointment in her voice. "She had told us she was expecting you. Let me page someone to walk you back to her area of the building."
A middle-aged nurse with frizzy blond hair appeared. She stood for a moment and regarded the handsome visitor. Then she remembered why she was there, and walked up to Wayne.
"Follow me," she said.
She led Wayne back past rows of rooms down a tiled hallway. As he passed down the hallway, he couldn't help but look into a few of them. Some rooms were full of flowers and pictures of families, with televisions playing soap operas or talk shows. Other rooms were dark, and he could feel the loneliness of the person in the room, as they waited for any visitors who would come to see them.
At last they arrived at their destination.
"Here we are, Room 13. Miss Haggschwarz," the nurse announced. "Your visitor is here."
A thunderclap sounded outside. The thunderstorm would be upon them any minute.
Wayne entered the room to see an old, wrinkled woman hooked to a respirator. There were tubes coming into her nose, and out of her arms, and monitors hooked up to her. She had a shock of dark black curly hair, with the ends having just a little gray. The face was just a little familiar to Bruce, but he did not know why.
"I came in response to your letter," Wayne stated. "I don't usually visit people who write, but I must say your letter intrigued me."
"Sit down, Bruce," the woman said in a voice that was not as weak as she looked.
As Wayne sat down in a hard wooden chair with a red vinyl seat, the woman did her best to prop herself up to speak with him.
"Well..." she said. "Well, here you are at last. I'm glad you came. Tonight they are transferring me over to the hospital, where I can't get as many visitors as I can here."
Bruce kept looking at her, wondering what it was about this woman that was so familiar.
"You don't remember me, do you, Bruce?" Wayne shook his head in response. "Well, it's probably better that you don't, considering what I did to you...."
At that moment the recollection of who Agatha Haggschwarz was suddenly came into Bruce's head. Twenty years ago, he had seen a figure blocking the escape from the alleyway when his parents were killed. That same figure pumped bullets into his mother and father with murderous abandon. That figure was the Hag, and the Hag was Agatha Haggschwarz.
A louder thunderclap sounded outside, and it began to rain hard.
"I know, Bruce. I did. That's why I asked you to come here." Her eyes took on a sad glow in the face of Wayne's rising rage. "I've been carrying the guilt of that crime around all my life. It was not worth the five thousand dollars I got for it..."
"Five thousand? You've just confessed to a murder, old woman. I'll have you taken out of here...you're not too old to go to a prison for invalids. I'll pay you back for what..."
The nurses were starting to notice the yelling. One of them came over to the door. She was a petite Asian-American woman, and she was very angry.
"Listen, mister! If you don't stop yelling, I'll get security to throw you out!"
"I'm sorry," he responded.
"Just keep it down. We have a lot of sick people here." She turned, and Bruce heard her heels clicking against the tile floor as she walked away from the doorway.
Bruce sat back down in the chair. He would have to stay calm if he was going to hear any more from Haggschwarz.
"Bruce.." she said, trying to calm him down. "I'm dying. Any day now, and this lung cancer I have is going to take me away for good. It could be today, it could be tomorrow, it could be next week. You've already got your revenge...I won't be around to bother you anymore."
She looked at the rain pelting the ground outside. "If the lung cancer doesn't get me, then..."
The old woman sat back and thought upon hearing Bruce's question. "No, your parents and the Starks were the last people I killed."
She moved forward a little and spoke, although it was obvious that the effort of talking was wearing her down. "As the Black Assassin, Justin Hammer and I were running away from the scene of the crime, I could see you huddled over your parents' bodies...and it was the first time I felt remorse for anything I had done, in my thirty years of being a crook and a killer."
"I went away to the Mediterranean with the money I got from Hammer, and some other dough I had stashed around," Haggschwarz stated. "I spent a long time there just thinking about the life I had led before killing your parents. I saw how the people down in the Mediterranean lived together without preying on one another, unlike the people in our country...they accepted into their homes as a guest...it made me not want to kill anymore."
Bruce cleared his throat and gave her a scrutinizing look. "And I'm supposed to believe this..."
"I wouldn't have asked you to come here if I didn't want you to know that I had done this...and that the other ones who killed your parents are still on the loose. Justin Hammer hasn't been in touch with me since after I got paid for killing your folks. The Black Assassin is another matter..."
Lightning struck, and the lights in the hospital flickered.
Bruce flashed back to that night, where he had caught a glimpse of a hooded man all in black firing bullets from a submachine gun into his parents and Tony Stark's parents' bodies.
While he lay under his parents' dead corpses, Bruce had thought he heard the Black Assassin readying his weapon and asking if Justin Hammer wanted him to make sure that Bruce was dead, too. Hammer had told him that they didn't have time, and that the police were coming.
Haggschwarz coughed, and brought Bruce back to the present. "When we returned to Hammer Island, I was able to steal Black Assassin's half of the money for the hit on your parents. I needed it to get away to start my new life, and he would find someone else to kill for money soon, anyway. I know he's probably still sore at me about that..."
"Has he tried to kill you?" Bruce asked.
"More than a few times," Haggschwarz responded. "Wherever I have been over the last twenty years, he has caught up with me, whether it was in Malta, or Argentina, or even Madripoor. He has nearly killed me almost every time-I was surprised that I could still escape him. But now, I'm old and weak. I have a feeling he knows where I am now, and he's coming to get me. "
"Well, if he got you, it wouldn't be like you didn't deserve it," Wayne muttered. He felt a little guilty after he said this to the bedridden woman. "But keeping you alive may be the only way I can track him down."
"You have a point there. That's why I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, Bruce. The Black Assassin is coming soon, to put an end to my life. I didn't want to die without knowing I had apologized to you."
"I don't know if I could ever forgive you," Bruce said. "But I won't let you be killed."
At that moment, lightning struck the building and all the lights flickered one more time, and then went out completely. The backup generators on the life-support machines started up. Panicked voices began to echo down the hallway.
"He's here," the old woman said weakly. Even though she was under a lot of wires and tubes, and even though it was mostly dark in the room, Bruce could detect the old woman shaking with a little fear.
"It could just be the weather," Wayne said. "Maybe the lights will flicker back on."
"Yes, if you must go, you must." The old woman lay back in her bed and relaxed. "Goodbye."
"I'll be right back," Wayne said as he stepped out of the room into the darkened hallway.
Bruce stopped one of the nurses in the hallway, the one who had told him to stop yelling before. "Hey, I'm sorry about before. Can you keep an eye on Miss Haggschwarz for me?"
"I'll try," the woman responded curtly. "Everyone else is in a panic too, you know."
"I'd appreciate it," Wayne said as he started to walk quickly down the hall.
Bruce rushed through the hallways, asking a few people for directions through the rest home, and eventually found the electrical closet. The door had a lock on it, but it was just slightly open. Bruce went into the closet, pulled a penlight from his pocket and shone it on the fusebox.
Once he opened the fusebox, Bruce noticed that someone had deliberately pulled the fuses controlling the lights for the wing of the rest home where Agatha was. Why would someone want to do that? Unless it was...
Lightning crashed outside.
Off in the distance, Bruce heard a scream. There was a frantic call over the intercom for help to come to room 13. Bruce reconnected the displaced fuse, then walked back toward Agatha's room. The nurses were rushing about.
He started to run toward Room 13. When he got there, he saw that next to the door was the nurse whom Bruce had asked to watch Agatha, lying on the floor, with a small bullet hole in her chest. As Bruce rushed into the room he caught a glimpse of a ghastly sight.
There, sitting with a blue face, was Agatha Haggschwarz. She had been strangled in her bed by the IV's that were supposed to keep her alive.
But who had done it? Agatha would not have been able to kill herself so quickly.
Bruce happened to look out the window at the same moment that a figure dressed all in black darted away from the building and disappeared into the driving rain. The figure in black darted into the bushes.
Bruce knew that to catch the assassin, he would have to get going fast. He ran through the rest home hallway, through the sliding doors, and past an elderly man who nearly tipped over his walker.
Bruce had to catch the man in black. He reached the bushes where he had last seen the man in black and looked around.
A motorcycle revved and started up. Bruce rushed at the man on the motorcycle, but the assassin started up his motorcycle and zoomed away. Bruce could hear snickering laughter as the motorcycle flew down the road away from him.
Wayne ran down the road through the driving rain, but he could not catch up with the assassin. He finally stopped running, although he did not have to catch his breath. The rain, however, had drenched him head to foot, and he had broken the sole of one of his dress shoes.
Bruce thought for a moment. He could call the Batcopter and pursue the assassin, but he had to talk to the police first. The nurses had called the cops, and squad cars were coming up the road with their lights blazing. There would be some explaining to do about the dead nurse and the murdered Miss Haggschwarz.
The Black Assassin had struck, this time even more stealthily than when he had brazenly helped kill Bruce's parents, and he had escaped.
As Bruce walked back to the rest home, he felt sorry for the Hag, even though she had helped kill his mother and father. Hopefully she had reached a kind of peace before she had been murdered. Somehow she did not deserve to die like this.
Bruce knew that he had to find this Black Assassin somehow. As he was about to reach the back door of the rest home, he noticed a scrap of the assassin's coat that had come off in the bushes.
Wayne picked the scrap up and took a look at it. It was a rough fabric, the kind to make a coat that would withstand rain, and possibly bullets. This was definitely a start.
Bruce now had one piece of the killer; maybe this would be enough to track the Black Assassin down, and bring him to justice.
As he jumped on to the rooftop of the building that the Skartaris was in, he recalled how he had been watching this place for a few weeks. It had just opened up in the heart of the territory of Tobias Whale, a notorious gangster who controlled this section of Gotham. There were new businesses moving into this neighborhood, but Batman was confident that they were all paying protection money to stay here...and stay alive. He also knew that the owner of the Skartaris, Travis Morgan, would not pay.
And that was the reason for the fight that Batman could hear going on as he silently stepped down the stairs. It would only be a moment before gunshots would start ringing out...a moment of which Batman needed to take advantage.
This would have been a good time to use one of his Bat-Mites, but Batman wanted to test his own stealth abilities by walking down the stairs without anyone noticing him. His old karate sensei would have been proud of how quietly he stepped down the staircase.
One grey-haired man, with muscles bulging from a black T-shirt, was being held in a headlock by an even more muscular thug. Another thug had a gun pointed at the grey-haired man's face.
Batman prepared a special Batarang that he had just developed. The thugs were too busy interrogating the grey-haired man to notice the Batarang flying through the air.
The Batarang hit the thug with the gun, and also delivered a devastating electrical shock that knocked the thug cold. The grey-haired man was able to slip out of the headlock and smash the other thug in the face with a cheap bottle of wine. As the thug grabbed at his bleeding face, the grey-haired man kneed him in the groin, then brought the butt of the other thug's pistol down on his head. Both thugs lay unconscious on the floor.
"Well, you didn't need my help that much, I see..." Batman said as he came out of the shadows.
"I guess not," the proprietor chuckled. "Thanks for your help, though. These thugs have been bothering me for a while...they just turned violent tonight. My name is Travis Morgan...I've been known as the Warlord, but it's just Travis now."
"The Warlord, hmm. I'm Batman, if you didn't already know that." Batman looked at the freshly painted walls of the bar, and the shiny brass fixtures. "It's tough opening a business in Tobias Whale's territory..."
Morgan started to wipe the spilled wine off the counter with a well-used rag. "You're telling me! His goons have been hitting me up for protection money from the moment I opened this joint. But nobody was able to keep me from getting what I wanted in Skartaris, and nobody's going to keep me from keeping this bar open. This bar is all I have...on this side of the planet, anyway."
Batman could not figure Travis Morgan out. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be a normal guy with definitely some combat expertise, but all this Skartaris stuff was way out there.
"Hm," Batman responded. "You're certainly different, Morgan, I'll give you that. Why don't you give the police a call, so they can clean up these two thugs?"
"Good idea. More thugs will come around, I'm sure," Morgan said. He reached under the bar, and pulled out a nicely polished, long-barreled Colt .45 pistol. "But I'll be ready for 'em next time."
"I hope that weapon is registered," Batman said. He then turned, opened up the front door of the bar, and disappeared quickly outside.
He had consulted Oracle for help, and the two of them had been able to match the fabric to a kind manufactured in Brazil. But the Black Assassin must have had an operation or connections set up here in the United States for him to have been able to track Agatha Haggschwarz down and kill her.
Oracle and Batman had also searched for any trace of the Assassin's recent activities. There was little record of the Black Assassin anywhere, just an isolated incident here or there that bore the mark of a deadly ex-Nazi. Some of the Assassin's alleged crimes were horrific -- particularly an attack on an Illinois synagogue during Shabbat services which left half the attendees dead.
Oracle noted that it was rumored that the Black Assassin was one of the leaders of a far-reaching and powerful neo-Nazi group, one with thousands of members across the United States. There was very little information available on this subject, though.
Batman puzzled over the mystery behind the Black Assassin...but he knew that he would find the ex-Nazi someday...someday soon.
Just then, Alfred called through the intercom.
"Excuse me, Master Bruce. Two..er, gentlemen from the New York Police Department here to see you."
"Thanks, Alfred. Please show them into the sitting room." Batman wondered why the police were visiting, and promptly prepared to meet his visitors as Bruce Wayne.
Kyle remembered going to the Gotham House building, and being accompanied by a fierce-looking guard as they rode up on a golden elevator to a posh penthouse floor lined with potted palm trees. He remembered when he first saw the huge mass of flesh that was his employer turn around in his large leather chair.
Tobias Whale's skin was so white that he seemed to be a person whom had not yet been painted by the world around him. He indeed seemed to be like a white whale that had grown legs and decided to take over the world, starting from Gotham and moving on from there.
Kyle remembered how long Whale had sat and regarded him with sharklike eyes before he made the offer.
Whale had asked a fateful question. "How would you like to do something for me that would help pay back what you owe me?"
"Sure," Kyle had said before he realized what he was saying.
And that was how Kyle's career working for Tobias Whale as Nighthawk began. He was given this technological marvel of a costume, with wings that connected to a cyber-scalp in his costume. With a thought he could expand or contract the wings, which had tiny but effective laser guns on them.
Kyle had received a short but intense course in martial arts from the Taskmaster, a villain who had recently fought Batman, and had taught Kyle how to counter the Masked Manhunter's fighting skills.
But he was not to fight the Batman yet. He had a mission to do for Whale first. He was to capture a recalcitrant bar owner who refused to pay Whale protection money, and he was to do as much damage to the bar as possible. He could manage that. After all, he was off the hook as far as his debts were concerned.
As long as he kept working for Whale.
Nighthawk expanded his wings, ignited the jets that powered them, and soared off into the night toward the Skartaris Bar to teach Travis Morgan a lesson, courtesy of Tobias Whale.
"Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Wayne," Dibny said, looking around the posh foyer. "Would you mind answering a few questions?"
"Certainly not, gentlemen. Please have a seat in the sitting room over here. Alfred, fetch them something to drink."
"I'll take coffee, Alfred," Bullock snorted rudely. "Black!"
"I'll take a cola if you have one," Dibny asked in a much more polite manner.
"Certainly, sirs," Alfred sniffed as he walked away.
"I'm going to get to the point, Wayne," said Bullock as he sat down on the plush maroon sofa in the sitting room. "We got this old lady, Agatha Haggschwarz, who knew almost nobody, and all of a sudden, she ends up murdered."
Wayne winced at the all-too-recent memory of the woman lying in her rest home bed, strangled with her own intravenous tubes.
"And you were the last one with her before the lights go out and she gets killed."
"Yes, I came back after checking the fuse box to find her dead."
"And then you ran. That's a funny thing to do for someone who isn't guilty."
"Come on, Harvey," Dibny said, putting his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Let Mr. Wayne tell us his side of the story."
"Not to be contrary, my friends, but I've already made a statement to the police," Wayne said. "You know all about the Black Assassin, and how I saw him fleeing the crime scene."
"And I know all about how I used to see Santy Claus every Christmas when I was a little tyke!" Bullock retorted. "The nurses at the rest home said they heard you two arguing before Haggschwarz was killed. What were you arguing about with this poor sick old lady?"
It was at this moment that Wayne knew that to exonerate himself, he would have to tell these two men his deepest, darkest secret.
He thought a moment about what he had been told to do to Morgan. He had never hurt anyone for money before. He had sold and bought all kinds of drugs, and been a lookout for pranks and small larcenies, but never had he been involved in roughing someone up. But his newly-developed martial arts skills would help him, along with the powers his suit possessed, in doing his job.
It would only be a little while before he would attack. And Morgan would learn to fear Tobias Whale...and Nighthawk.
All of a sudden, Alfred returned to the sitting room, obviously in a hurry.
"Master Bruce! There's...an urgent call for you!"
"Oh," Wayne said, knowing what Alfred meant. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, there's an appointment I have to make..."
Bullock stared long and hard at Wayne. He didn't like trust-fund babies, let alone handsome ones like Wayne. But they didn't have enough evidence to arrest Wayne...not yet, anyway.
"C'mon, Dibny," he said, putting the stub of a used cigar he had in his trenchcoat into the bone china coffee cup. "Let's go. And Wayne," Bullock called as he reached the door. "I wouldn't go too far out of the New York City area if I were you. We might have some more questions."
"Good night, gentlemen," Wayne said.
And the moment they reached the door, Wayne rushed to the secret entrance to the Batcave. He knew that Travis Morgan was in danger.
Morgan was not unprepared for Nighthawk, though. He hid under the bar and waited for a pause in the blasting of the liquor bottles. When Nighthawk paused to let his wing blasters recharge, Morgan jumped up and began firing.
Travis swore he would have hit his attacker on the first shot, if not for his attacker's aerial agility. He couldn't waste too many shots on his flying assailant; Morgan only had ten bullets left.
Nighthawk, having energized his wing lasers, got ready to swoop in for the final attack run on Morgan.
But just then two flying sharp objects flew at his wing tips and cut through the barrels of his wing lasers, effectively disabling them. The sharp objects impacted in the wooden wall, and Nighthawk could see that they were razor-sharp Bat-stars, the signature weapon of the Batman.
Nighthawk turned to see Batman standing in the middle of the barroom floor.
"Nice costume, pal. A little reminiscent of mine, don't you think?"
"Batman!" Nighthawk couldn't believe he had come face-to-face with the Darknight Detective. He was very nervous now; Travis Morgan was just a bartender, albeit one armed with a nasty Colt .45; but Batman was a big-time superhero. Nighthawk knew he would have to take this fight to a place that was more favorable for someone with wings.
He soared across the barroom and picked up Travis Morgan. Even with his suit's enhanced strength, the bartender was a handful, especially as he tried to wrestle his way out of Nighthawk's grip. Nighthawk made his wing jets give a huge thrust and the two of them flew out the large hole in the front window and up into the sky. Nighthawk could see Batman following them out of the corner of his eye. The crimefighter certainly was relentless.
Nighthawk dropped Morgan hard, intentionally, on the roof of a building across the street from the Skartaris bar. Morgan was stunned by the fall. This was good, as Batman had already made his way up to the roof to confront Nighthawk.
Nighthawk landed on the roof and turned around. Batman reached into his utility belt and pulled a small cartridge from it. As it reached the ground, it exploded near Nighthawk, blinding him.
Batman leapt across the rooftop and grappled with Nighthawk. He had Nighthawk's arms pinned behind him when Nighthawk came around and realized that Batman had gained the upper hand.
Nighthawk made his wing-jets ignite and took off into the sky with Batman holding him. Then he took advantage of the wrestling training he had had with Taskmaster, and managed to wriggle out of Batman's hold to where he now held Batman.
He took a moment to look at Batman as he held him over the gaping alleyway. Batman struggled, but he was clearly concerned for his safety, being forty feet in the air over 4th Street.
Nighthawk knew that he could throw Batman down to the street below and make Whale very happy. He would then be able to collect Morgan and bring him to Whale for whatever the crimelord was going to do to the bartender. But the vigilance of Batman in defending an everyman like Travis Morgan made him pause. All through his life of dissolute partying, he had secretly thrilled when he had read in the newspapers about the latest maniac Batman had captured. Maybe it would be better to be like Batman than to be a hired gun for Whale. Nighthawk held Batman up in the air for just a little while longer.
Long enough for Travis Morgan to draw a bead on him and shoot him in the leg.
"Arrgh!" Nighthawk drifted over to a nearby rooftop. He let Batman drop to the roof, and then took off into the air, with blood spurting from his gunshot wound as he flew away.
Batman collected himself as Travis Morgan bounded across the space between the rooftops to the one where the crimefighter was.
"Are you all right?"
"What the hell were you doing with that gun?"
"He was going to drop you, Batman. I stopped him."
"He wasn't going to," Batman replied. "Apparently, you and that gun can defend yourselves well enough without my help. If you choose to keep this place open here, then you'll have to defend it yourself. I don't like...guns..."
"Be reasonable, Batman! Come on! We'd be a great team! You should have seen the creatures I fought in Skartaris."
"You're nuts, Morgan, with all that Skartaris stuff. Take care of yourself--maybe you should see a psychologist! Rotors here in two," he spoke into his glove.
And with that, the Batcopter appeared, and Batman was gone. Again, the police came in to investigate the ruckus. And the Nighthawk flew away into the midnight sky over Gotham, free...for now...
A trail of torn bushes across the College Quadrangle and the corpses of a few unlucky college kids showed the Hyena's path. Interestingly enough, it led back to Leakey Hall, the location of Gotham State's small anthropology department.
There had been a number of murders, all within the space of two nights, in which the victims were clawed to death. There had been no reports of animals having broken loose from the Central Park or the Bronx Zoo, so I figured that it had to be a supernatural creature committing the murders.
Oddly enough, the victims had been professors in the anthropology department at Gotham State, with the exception of the latest one. The Dean of Arts and Sciences had been cornered last night near her car and had been slashed to death.
As Bruce Wayne, I had an ongoing scholarship established for the criminal justice program at Gotham State, so I had an interest in the students there. All the students were on a 10-o'clock curfew, although I saw a few skulking around here and there.
One professor, Summer Day, had gone missing a few days after her tenure was disapproved by members of her department and the Arts and Sciences administration. All of the professors on her review committee had been killed, and now there was only one administrator left alive who had turned down Day's tenure. It was interesting that the Hyena's trail led back to where Summer Day's office used to be...
I had prepared a tiny high-pitched sonic emitter to hit the Hyena with when the time was right. I had followed her into the building and was lying in wait outside her office door, so I could hit her with the emitter and capture her...
But all of a sudden, a blinding light emerged out of the near-darkness of the quadrangle, and there was a loud-whirring noise as the hovercraft of the Super-Unit Police arrived.
Through a window, I saw them leap out of their hovercraft. First came Photon, a woman who zoomed out of the hovercraft in the form of light energy. Then Doc Samson, the powerful but intelligent gamma-powered giant, emerged. Next came Powerman, a masked powerhouse, and the Black Condor, a talon-wielding winged hero. Lastly came the Guardian, who was the leader, and the Trapster, the group's ensnarement expert.
I could hear the Hyena going into a fearful frenzy in Summer Day's office. Books were crashing to the floor, and I could hear papers that Summer Day had worked long hours writing being slashed to ribbons.
I heard Photon shout to the others. "I've spotted the Hyena, Guardian! She's in an office on the ground floor of this building, and she's tearing the place apart."
"Lead the way, Photon! Forward, Super-Unit Police!"
A bright light outside told me that Photon was using her powers to fire a concentrated ray of light to cut a hole around the window to Summer Day's old office. The window fell to the ground with a smash and the Hyena turned to face the Super-Unit Police. It was at this moment that I slipped into the office myself. I was determined to not let the Hyena get away, no matter who was involved in her capture.
Doc Samson leapt through the open window and grabbed the Hyena in an iron grip. The creature howled and scratched at the muscled hero, but he did not show a scratch for all of the Hyena's effort.
"Put her in the SUP-wagon," Guardian ordered. "Read her her rights and restrain her."
"Yes sir," Samson replied, leaping away with the Hyena still writhing in his iron grip.
"Look, everyone," the Black Condor said, "Batman's here, too!"
The Black Condor must have night vision or some other enhanced sight powers, I thought.
The Super-Unit Police then turned their collective attention to me. I knew that for a while they had ordered to bring me in if they found me. I thought, however, that I could reason with them.
"Look," I said as the Super-Unit Police began to crowd around me. "The bad guy has been caught, and you can bring her back to the stationhouse. I don't have any quarrel with you people...in fact I think you do a lot of good."
"We've still been ordered to bring you in, Batman," Guardian barked. He held up his badge. "Vigilantism is a Class A misdemeanor in New York. You're under arrest."
"You can't be serious," I replied.
The rest of the group advanced toward me. Photon energized herself, while Powerman and Guardian walked at me from different sides of the room, and Black Condor rose into the air, landed, and closed the door to the office, locking me inside.
I was surrounded, but I had a plan. I waited until the Super-Unit Police were all within a few feet of me, and then threw a Bat-smoke bomb which made everyone start coughing, except Photon.
They coughed as the cloud of smoke spread through the room.
"Get your gas masks out of your belts, people!" Guardian ordered. "You know what to do in this battle scenario!"
I threw a small Bat-incendiary pellet at the overhead lighting for the room. One blast was enough to put the lights out.
I didn't intend to give my opponents time to figure out a plan to stop me. They had been after me for too long for me to just run away this time. I had to teach them a lesson, so they would learn to leave me alone.
I tossed a Batarang at the Trapster, who was fumbling for his gas mask. It hit the vulnerable area of his neck that his helmet did not protect, and he fell to the floor.
"Black Condor! Open that door. Powerman! Use your super-speed to blow that gas out of here!"
The gas was starting to dissipate through the broken window, so I knew I needed to press my advantage while I could. I strung two Bat-stars together and tossed them at the Black Condor's wings. They looped around the tops of his wings, causing him to fall to the floor.
Powerman's eyes lit up with unearthly power. "I see him, Guardian. He's been attacking us from over in that corner!"
"I'll get him!" said Photon. In her light form, she was almost like a beacon for the other heroes to follow. She began firing power blasts at where she thought I was. As they missed, they blew giant holes in the cement walls of the office.
I was fighting the big guns of the Super-Unit Police now. It would take every ounce of speed and intelligence I had to fight them now.
The smoke had cleared, and I was in plain sight now. Photon was still firing power blasts at me, and I had to find a way to stop her. The Super-Unit Police had a lot of respect for their leader, and I was going to exploit that. I lured Photon into firing at me, and then made a mad rush for Guardian.
He was surprised, and had to leap out of the way as Photon's blast, meant for me, seared the floor next to him.
"Guardian! Are you okay?" she said. In her concern for her leader, she transformed out of her light form and back into human form, which made it a lot darker in the room. As Photon rushed to the Guardian's side, I tripped her and she fell flat on her face.
Powerman was the only one left standing, and he was angry. His eyes began to flash with a red, bright light.
I barely had time to dodge the first blast of what seemed like solar radiation. There was a possibility that my cape might be able to absorb one of his blasts, but the force of it would probably knock me out. There was a small mirror of Summer Day's that had fallen to the floor in the struggle. I picked up the cracked mirror and held it up just as Powerman fired another eye blast. The blast reflected back at him and knocked him down.
I had stopped the Super-Unit Police single-handedly, but only for a moment. Guardian and Black Condor were ready to fight again, and Photon had again changed into her light form. Powerman was recovering already; someone with those kinds of powers and invulnerability could not possibly be human. I was busy sizing up my opponents when a sticky substance suddenly shot out from the corner of the room and ensnared my feet.
"Got him!" a voice cried out. It was the Trapster, who had recovered as well.
The tables had turned, and I was about to get quite a thrashing.
"What are you doing here, Samson?" Guardian asked. "I told you to stay out there with Hyena! She's dangerous."
"I saw the fireworks from outside," the gamma-powered hero replied. "I wanted to see if everyone was OK."
Powerman turned toward the wall and his eyes lit up. He concentrated for a moment, then turned back toward us.
"My x-ray vision shows that the Hyena is not in the SUP Wagon. She must have escaped the restraints, or Doc Samson did not put them on correctly."
The Super-Unit Police looked at each other, and then looked at me.
"Can't I give him one little power blast, just to pay him back for tripping me?" Photon asked as she rose to her feet.
"I know where she's going next," I said.
"Like we're supposed to believe you, vigilante," Guardian said. "Be thankful we don't pummel you into unconsciousness."
"No, he must know who the next victim is," Samson said. "I've studied Batman's methods for some time now. He's a master of criminal psychology. He uses the bat motif to encourage feelings of..."
Guardian interrupted him. "Can you translate that for us non-Ph.D's, Samson?"
"Sorry. We should listen to Batman. I have a feeling he was here because he had figured out the Hyena's identity, just as we did."
"So you know who the Hyena is going to hit next?"
"Yes," I replied. "I'll lead you to the Hyena if you promise to let me go. I'm just as interested in her being captured as you are."
The Super-Unit Police were still thinking about the matter.
"There are kids out there whose parents have entrusted the security division of this college to protect them. The Hyena has already killed innocent students who have gotten in her path. The longer we fight, or stand here and do nothing, the more likely it is that more kids are going to be killed."
Guardian frowned. "Trapster!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Get your solvent and spray it on Batman's feet so he can get loose. We have a Hyena to catch!"
"That's the office of Fred Kumperburgen, the Associate Dean of Arts and Sciences. He's been known to work late into the night, and I think the Hyena knows this, too."
It was evident even from down below the building that a struggle was going on in the office above.
"Powerman! Photon! Get up there and check out what's happening."
The two heroes soared into the air, looked into the window, and then smashed through it.
"There must be trouble up there," Guardian said. "Samson and Condor, can you give us a hand!"
Doc Samson stepped forward. He grabbed me in one arm, while Black Condor grabbed the Guardian. Samson used his super-powered leg muscles to do a standing leap up to the ledge of Dean Kumperburgen's window, while Black Condor gently alit on the ledge.
"I'll just take the stairs!" Trapster exclaimed from down below.
We landed on the ledge to see Powerman and Photon inside Dean Kumperburgen's disheveled office.
"You think you have me captured, don't you? Well the last guilty one dies tonight!"
She raised her claws and prepared to rake his throat when I pulled my sonic emitter from my belt and turned it on.
She reeled in agony and dropped the Dean. Instantly, the Super-Unit Police sprang upon her. Powerman held her in a steel grip, while Doc Samson watched her closely to make sure that she would not escape again.
"Thank you, Super-Unit Police," the Dean said. "You have done Gotham State a great service in capturing this killer."
I purposefully kept to the shadows.
"We'll take her away now, sir," the Guardian responded. "Photon, call an ambulance so we can get Dean Kumperburgen checked out."
All the Super-Unit Police left the room with Hyena and Dean Kumperburgen. The only ones left in the office were myself and the Guardian.
"Well, you ended up helping us in the end."
"Still want to try to bring me in, Guardian?"
"Let's leave it at we'll try to avoid each other's path. We'll pretend we didn't see you...and you let us bring in the Hyena."
"Fair enough."
We walked away from each other--I could sense that Guardian and I had more in common than we wished to admit. Hopefully, we would not have to pit our talents against each other again.
The silent red alert was running across the bottom of all of the monitors hooked up to the Bat-computer. Buttons to trigger the silent alert were in each area of Wayne Manor so that Alfred could signal me down here in the Batcave if the Manor were to come under attack somehow.
I didn't dare risk appearing in the Manor in costume, so I quickly changed into some casual clothes and went up in the hyper-elevator to the main floor of the Manor.
When I got out of the elevator, I saw a squad car light circling through the window. Alfred had the door open, and he was obviously covering for me. It was time to give him a break.
"What is this about?" I asked.
Harvey Bullock and Ralph Dibny stood outside the door with their badges in their hands. Both had angry expressions on their faces.
"We told you not to leave town, Wayne," Dibny explained. "We expected you to be here in case we needed to ask you any more questions, and you weren't here. So, we're going to have to take you downtown so we can keep an eye on you."
"Get in the car, Wayne!" said Bullock. "You're under arrest!"
Bruce thought about his friend, Harvey Dent, who had gone to college with him, and was the District Attorney for the Gotham borough. In college, both young men had a great interest in crime, the law, and criminal justice. Harvey didn't come from the kind of money that Bruce did, so he pursued criminal justice more as a career than as an active interest.
But thoughts of his friend quickly passed from Bruce's mind as he walked through the door into the Precinct office, where other perpetrators waited to be processed.
He tried not to meet the eyes of the desk sergeant as Dibny announced his name. He saw a glint of shocked recognition in the otherwise sleepy-eyed sergeant. The man stiffened the way that people always do when they are in the presence someone of a higher class.
Dibny tried to lead Wayne into the precinct offices without anyone noticing, but this was impossible, considering his status in Gotham.
"Take a picture, boys," Bullock snorted. "It'll last longer! Go back to work!"
Detective Dibny continued his attempt to discreetly lead Wayne toward the interrogation room, an area of the precinct office where answers were drawn out of the most recalcitrant criminals.
Dibny and Bullock were masters of "Good Cop/Bad Cop," but Dibny didn't play the Bad Cop too often. The trust that the clean-cut, intelligent Dibny elicited had allowed the two detectives to obtain some confessions that other detectives would not have been able to get. He hoped that they wouldn't have to play too much "Bad Cop" with Wayne, because Bullock could get pretty rough sometimes.
"There's someone who can help us, Harvey. Someone who's not on the police force, but who helps us out a lot...I can vouch for him personally."
A beautiful, tall, green-skinned woman stepped into the room. She was dressed in a conservative business suit that strained to fit her muscular frame.
"Mr. Dent? Here's more information on the Joe Coyne case, as you requested." The green-skinned woman handed a file to Dent.
"Commissioner Gordon, this is Jennifer Walters. She's interning here while she's finishing law school."
"Yes," said Gordon, having already recognized the woman. "Sometimes you're that superheroine, She-Hulk, aren't you?"
Jennifer flushed a little. "Yes, I have done that from time to time, but that kind of thing is only legal for the Super-Unit Police. I'm going to fight crime from a law office for a while, I think."
Dent smiled proudly at his intern as she left. But his expression changed quickly as he remembered the purpose of his and Gordon's meeting.
"Anyway, you said there was someone you could contact to help me?"
"Well, get in touch with him, however you do that. We need to stop this Two-Face character before he causes any more mayhem."
"He'll come," Commissioner Gordon replied. He pulled a special signaling device from his desk and pressed it. The Batman was needed.
"Ok, Wayne, look, all ya gotta do here is tell us what really happened that day in the rest home. You remember that?" Bullock stared hard at Wayne, who remained composed in the chair across from him.
"I remember being there, but I did not kill that woman."
"Sure you didn't," Dibny said. "What I'm trying to figure out, Mr. Wayne, is why you were there. Why would you, an industrialist, and a philanthropist, want to go visit the Sunnyland Nursing Home?"
"We know you got no ma and no pa, Wayne, and we know you don't have no grandparents left alive, neither. What was your problem with that old lady, anyway?"
"We have a feeling that she may have reminded you of someone you hated, and that may have triggered something in you, Wayne," Dibny remarked. "You lost both of your parents when you were little?"
"Yes, I did." Wayne hated it when that distant but potent memory was even mentioned.
"We got the report you gave to the police when you was a kid," Bullock said. "You said you saw three people gun down your parents and Tony Stark's parents. One of 'em, you described as 'an old lady who looked like a hag.' Maybe you got some kinda thing against old ladies, and it just took the right combination of events to snap and kill one. Maybe you have some kind of personal connection with this lady that you still haven't told us about."
This was it. Bruce would have to reveal his deepest secrets, and the confidences that Agatha Haggschwarz had entrusted in him to these two policemen, if he was to ever have a chance to walk out of the third precinct a free man. Or, he could ask for a lawyer, which would send this case into court, and his name into the newspapers.
"Who?"
Robin stood as proudly as he could in the presence of two of the giants of the law of Gotham. He knew what accomplishments both men had made and their contribution to the attempt to keep Gotham safe, and he tried to look impressive.
"Who are you, young man?" Gordon asked. "Are you of some relation to Batman?"
"Yes, in a way. I'm Robin, and I'm Batman's partner. He wasn't able to come, so he sent me."
The two hardened defenders of the law looked over the college boy. It was obvious that they were slightly disappointed at not having Batman's detective prowess at their disposal. But the young hero would have to do.
"There have been some mysterious crimes taking place lately by a gang led by a criminal who calls himself Two-Face," Dent said. "From the reports that we've gathered, this man is insane and constitutes a threat to the people of Gotham. The way he strikes and the targets he strikes, it seems like he's out to discredit me personally."
Dent's brow hardened even more than usual, and the tone of his voice dropped to a near hush.
"I have a guy, Joe Coyne, who has been convicted of the 'Penny Dreadful' murders that happened about a year ago. Some of our informants have told us that he's connected to Two-Face somehow, and that Two-Face is planning to spring him during the transfer from the jail he's in now to the Maximum Security Prison.
"We suspect that Two-Face may have an inside source in the Police Department. So far, whenever we've thought we were going to finally get him, he's either laid a trap for our men, or just plain escaped. That's why we needed Batman, and that's why we need you. Since you're outside the police force, we know that Two-Face hasn't paid you off."
"Just let me know what you need me to do," Robin said.
"What have we here?" he said. "Batman has been looking for stuff on this guy, and this definitely seems like his handiwork. I'd better let him know."
And with that, he sent a message to the Batcave. Once Batman responded, he could give him more information. Batman just had to e-mail him back...
"Oh, dear, someone is trying to contact Master Bruce and he is over there in that police station." Alfred pondered a moment. "I shall have to contact Master Charles*, and forward the message to him."
*Alfred's formal way of addressing Chuck Barnes, otherwise known as Robin.
On the instrument panel of the Redbird, Robin's customized motorcycle, the new message light turned on. Robin pulled the motorcycle off to the side of the road, made sure nobody was looking, and accessed the message.
Oracle had discovered a connection between an arms dealer in Monaco and the Black Assassin, who had effectively framed Bruce Wayne for the murder of Agatha Haggschwarz. There was rumored to be a meeting of various influential Neo-Nazi leaders at a villa in Monaco, and the Black Assassin was rumored to be behind a far-reaching North American neo-Nazi movement. If Batman or Robin could get to Monaco, there would be a good chance of at least meeting up with the villain, if not capturing him.
Robin hoped that the problems with the Agatha Haggschwarz murder would clear up soon. If he or Batman didn't try to catch the Black Assassin now, when they had a chance, he would probably go underground, and it would be years before anyone saw him again. He didn't know whether Batwoman would be able to handle a case like this, but he was beginning to think he might need to ask her for help.
He looked at the chronometer on the Redbird. It was time to go to the 4th Precinct Headquarters and spy on the transfer of Joe Coyne, to see if Two-Face would show up. Robin had faced super-villains alone before, but he had a feeling that Two-Face would be more dangerous than anyone before.
He revved up the Redbird and sped away into the night.
Dent was thinking to himself when he saw someone through the open door of the interrogation room.
"What's Bruce Wayne doing in here? Is it that thing with the rest home? I hope Dibny and Bullock aren't dragging that out."
One of the new recruits to homicide spoke up. "No, sir, there's been an arrest, and Wayne's under questioning."
Dent was furious. "I don't know what judge gave out an arrest warrant for Bruce Wayne, the most upstanding philanthropist in New York City. He gave an explanation for what happened at the Sunnyland Nursing Home...I don't want this case tried in my town! Gordon, tell them to let Wayne go!"
Dent suddenly looked at his watch.
"Oh. There's somewhere I have to be. Can you monitor the connection until I get back? Make sure they let Wayne go free, too, or I'll be back with pink slips for Dibny and Bullock in my hand!"
He was out the door of the precinct very quickly, enough to make Commissioner Gordon wonder. Gordon shrugged and went to go persuade Bullock and Dibny to let Wayne go, and then to watch over Robin as the transfer of Joe Coyne took place.
Robin parked the Redbird across the street. He pulled out a set of Bat-binoculars that gave him a good view of the door. He might have to wait here for a while, but he would be able to catch anything funny happening.
"Yes, Commish," Bullock responded as he came out of the interrogation room. Dibny stayed in the room to keep an eye on Wayne.
"I just got off the phone with Harriet Fern, one of the nurses at the rest home. She saw Bruce Wayne run out after the lights went out, and he asked her for directions to the electrical closet, and she heard Bruce ask directions from another nurse who was killed along with Haggschwarz. It turns out she looked in on Miss Haggschwarz once, and she was still alive before Wayne came back. So, what does that say to you?"
"He coulda still done it, Commissioner."
"We don't arrest upstanding members of society on the basis of 'coulda', Bullock!" Commissioner Gordon was angry, which was different for a man of his usually even temper. The younger homicide cops started to get up and leave the room before they got a taste of his wrath.
"But he was the last one with her!" Bullock shouted defiantly.
"Weren't you listening to what I just said? By the way, Harvey Dent just told me that he wants you to drop the case, and let Wayne go."
The mention of the District Attorney's name was enough to make Bullock lose confidence. Dibny got up from his seat in the interrogation room and came out to listen.
The two detectives exchanged glances. They had spent days working on this case, only to have it fall apart. But they had to drop the case.
"There are other murders to investigate, boys. This is Gotham, so there's always someone killing somebody. Let's let Mr. Wayne go home."
Robin was lucky that a master of the martial arts such as Batman had trained him. Otherwise, he would have not moved aside in time to dodge the billy club that a huge thug tried to smash his head in with.
Robin jumped away, and assessed his opponent. The thug struck again with the billy club, but Robin quickly struck at a muscle in the thug's arm and made him drop the billy club. Robin took advantage of his opponent's pain and delivered three quick kicks to the thug's jaw and face. As the thug attempted to recover, Robin struck him in a place that made the thug drop to the ground.
At that moment, however, Robin realized that the thug's attack was just an opening attack directed by a much more dangerous force.
Robin found himself face-to-face with a monstrosity of a man. His face was light green, and entirely wrinkled and twisted, as if someone had molded a mask of what evil was supposed to look like and had pasted it permanently on someone's face. He held a snub-nosed pistol.
"So, you're interested in Joe Coyne, huh? Well, the guys I got dressed up as cops are going to take care of him real good. But I don't like people who nose around...did dent tell you to come here?"
Robin watched the villain carefully, thinking of the right moment to spring and knock the gun out of his hand.
"Two-Face?" Robin asked in near disbelief.
"In the flesh. I think it's time for you to die, young man," Two-Face said. Two-Face prepared to fire on the young hero.
At that moment, a Batarang flew out of the darkness and bit into Two-Face's hand. He barely had time to recover as Batman leapt upon him.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own age, ugly?" he said as he let him fly with a punch to Two-Face's gut.
There were other thugs accompanying Two-Face who revealed themselves, but only long enough to run away at the sight of the Batman.
The NYPD van zoomed over from across the street and the side door opened. A group of thugs opened fire on Batman and Robin, and Two-Face took advantage of the gunfire to jump into the van and get away.
Batman and Robin had taken refuge behind their mostly-bulletproof capes, but the delay had been long enough to let Two-Face escape.
"Who was the ugly guy with the heavily armed friends?" Batman asked.
"It's Two-Face, I think," Robin said. "I wonder why they call him Two-Face, though. All I saw was one ugly face."
"It doesn't matter now," Batman replied. "Get your cycle, and I'll get the Batmobile, and we'll see if we can track Two-Face down."
The heroes raced to their respective vehicles, and sped off.
Jennifer Walters came in to greet Dent, and noticed his glum expression. She knew what had happened, as the sympathetic look on her face showed.
Harvey Dent looked up from his coffee. "You know what, Jennifer? I'm beginning to feel like I know this Two-Face, and he knows me. He seems to know my every move. He'd better watch out, though, because the day I meet him face-to-face, he'll wish he had never been born."
Dent and Gordon were in Gordon's office at the 3rd precinct, getting ready to radio to Robin, who was staking out the prisoner transfer of Joe Coyne.
It was time for the prisoner transfer to take place. A white and blue NYPD van waited with its engine running.
"Bullock! Dibny! Get out here!" Gordon shouted.
Robin was watching the door of the 4th precinct headquarters as it opened. A few guards emerged, accompanied by a smallish, smirking man in the standard orange prisoner's uniform. Robin scanned the street for signs of anyone suspicious, but saw no one.
Early the next morning, Harvey Dent sat hunched over a copy of the Daily Planet. The headline read "Joe Coyne Escapes!". He hung his head a little as he nursed his morning coffee. Two-Face had foiled him again, even though Dent had the help of Batman and Robin.
I was traveling under an assumed name, Bryce Johnson, with my butler Alfred. He was rather uncomfortable around so many other people, being used to the solitude of Wayne Manor.
"Well, Master Br...I mean Master Johnson, it was rather different to travel again amongst the common people."
"Well, Bryce Johnson doesn't have his own private plane. He's rich, but not as rich as someone like Bruce Wayne, you know."
"Oh, yes I know, Master Johnson. I must say I am quite pleased that you brought me along on this trip,.. It has been almost five years since I have spent any time away the Manor."
"So you don't mind traveling First Class?"
"No, sir. In my younger years in England, we were lucky to have an automobile handy, much less an aeroplane. And to serve as your butler on this trip is an honor."
We rode in a limousine through the center of Monaco. Even Alfred, who long lived amongst the trappings of wealth, was impressed by the opulence of the city. I saw his mouth open in amazement a few times at how beautiful a building was.
We checked into the Hotel de Monaco. I deliberately took a suite that Tony Stark used to always take, to further throw off any curious parties as to my identity.
This was going to be a difficult mission. I was going to have to be at the peak of my stealth skills to not alert the group of supposed Nazis that were meeting at the hotel next door. Among them, according to Oracle, was the Black Assassin, the person who helped kill my parents.
To help focus myself, I practiced some of my yoga exercises. I was doing a spinal rock when Tony Stark came into the room.
"Tony! What are you doing here in Monaco?"
"I might ask you the same question, Bruce."
We discussed recent events and my difficulties with the murder of Agatha Haggschwarz.
Tony told me about a new threat he had discovered--the Mandarin, ruler of ancient Kunlong, who had tricked Tony into almost being his slave.
"That doesn't surprise me," I said, as I put a blazer on, preparing my disguise for tonight. "You're too nice, Tony. Someday, someone's going to get close to you because of that, and they're going to do you a lot of damage if you're not careful."
Alfred interrupted us at just the right moment.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, barging into the room as politely as one with his well-trained butlering skills could. "I do believe the appointment you had scheduled is happening very soon."
It was too bad that I wouldn't have Iron Man working with me against these supposed Nazis. From what I had heard from Oracle, they had a lot of firepower on their side.
(To see what Iron Man is up to, and to see more of this conversation, read Iron Man #6!) The meeting was going to take place soon, in the hotel directly across the street, as Oracle had said. I snuck into the back entrance of the Hotel Miramar, dodging bellhops and hotel employees, until I neared the conference room area. Next to the Conference Room was a swimming pool that was under construction. More likely than not, no one would be in there at night.
Oracle had hacked into the online conference room schedule for Le Hotel
Miramar, and had informed me that a group called the Leaders of Health
was meeting in the Fontainebleu Conference Room. The Leaders of Health
was an acronym for the Legion of Hate, the rumored name for an
international criminal organization with Nazi leanings. The Legion was
rumored to have members on every continent--no one knew who the leader
was. They were feared by many and revered across the world by those with Nazi ties.
I was able to get blueprints of the hotel, complete with the layout air duct system. There was an air duct right over the space where the meeting was taking place. I thought about crawling around up there, but then I decided that I should send one of my Bat-Mites to observe the proceedings, and wait in the swimming pool adjoining the conference room, which was under construction.
In my Batman costume, I stood in near the side of the pool in the darkened swimming pool area--the reception from the Bat-Mite was best there. I noticed that the repairs were almost finished, because the pool was full of water. But the fact that the door to the area was locked and a construction sign was on the door would help keep unwelcome visitors away.
Through the microphone in the Bat-Mite in the air duct over the conference room, I could hear the conversation beginning.
"Overall, your operations have been going well. Tensions between different groups are increasing, as they should be. Things will reach the boiling point soon, and after all hell breaks loose, we will be left to rule Hell."
There were grunts of pleasure and assent, some in German and some in English, from those gathered at the table.
The speaker had an accent that had traces of German and English, and spoke fluidly and intelligently. No matter how I adjusted the camera on the Bat-Mite, I could not see his face on a large projection screen at the center of the room. The leader had deliberately darkened the room from which he was transmitting, so that his subordinates would feel his presence without being exactly sure of who he was. I could see that he was an older man, and every once in a while the epaulets on his jacket would glimmer, so I had the sense that he was involved in the military somewhere.
I adjusted the video controller for the Bat-Mite and focused its tiny camera on the space between the slits in the air duct. I could see seven people in the room, all dressed in garish costumes except for one, who stood over in the corner, smoking a cigarette. The smoker wore a fashionable linen suit with no tie. One had a costume with a mask that made him look like an owl. Another wore a greyish leather costume and mask, while the woman next to him wore a black mask and a tight black leather outfit. One looked like a Nazi version of Iron Man, though his costume had Iron Crosses on it, and no swastikas. The last one had an almost monklike costume, and a hood covered his face.
Decorating the costumes of those who were wearing them were swastikas or other Nazi emblems. What exactly was going on here?
The leader cleared his throat and continued speaking. "However, I have been noticing a little bit of falling off with the Black Assassin's operation. It seems he is spending his time on personal vendettas instead of on my directives."
The assembled Nazis stared at the Black Assassin.
"Do you have an explanation for this, Assassin?" the leader asked.
"It's only a momentary pause in activity, General. I have plans..."
"You have plans, Assassin?" the leader chuckled. "I'd love to hear about them. You are going to have some help now, from Der Grosshorn Eule."
The Black Assassin was not impressed. "I do not need that bumbler's help. The blunders of him and the rest of Axis Amerika during the Second World War did nothing for Der Fuhrer's..."
"Silence!" the leader cried out. "You are greatly in my debt, Assassin, as are all of you."
From what I could see, the group was taken aback by this reminder of their debt to their leader.
"Displease me further, and perhaps I shall no longer see fit to continue our relationship..."
Assassin snorted, and then nodded his assent. "Fine. I will accept Der Eule's help, even if I do despise the man."
I adjusted the camera a little bit more to see if I could get a better view. Suddenly, I was pulled down into the water in the swimming pool.
I fell in, and my surprise gave my unseen foe the advantage he needed to drag me further underwater. I tried to release myself from his grip but it was too tight. I was going to drown if I did not get loose somehow.
I twisted in his grip and tried to keep the warm water out of my lungs while battling him. I could feel the hair on his hands on my face and I could sense a pair of teeth trying to bite my neck. I had a plan, but I had to stop struggling for a moment. I hoped that this would not let him kill me.
I could feel his teeth near my neck as I reached for my utility belt and pulled out an explosive charge. It would be merciless to use it on any foe directly, but I was in the process of being drowned, so there wasn't time to think about consequences.
The charge blinded him, and he let me go. I only had seconds to swim for the edge of the pool, but my cape was dragging me down. I made it to the edge of the water and leapt out. My foe had come around, and was slashing the water with his strokes, coming toward me with a demon's speed.
I pulled my Bat-Taser from my utility belt and sent a charge at the water. The pool lit up like a lightning bolt had struck it, and I could smell the burning fur of the creature that had attacked me and I heard him yowling, just like the werewolf he seemed to be.
Shocking my assailant had made a great deal of noise, and the lights flickered slightly, then turned back on.
My cover had been blown. If my attacker had not already reported me to his superiors, he would do so when and if he came around. It was time to leave.
I signaled my Bat-Mite to return to me. I heard it scuttling through the air duct, and after a moment, it was back in my hand. I now had images of the leader and the major players in this Nazi conspiracy. I could hunt them down individually at the hotel and put an end to their operation.
But as I emerged from the swimming pool, two guards dressed in the uniforms of the Hotel Miramar that had been outside the conference room were waiting for me. Someone in the other room had heard the struggle between me and Sea-Wolf, and the Nazis were on the alert.
The two guards cocked their Uzis and started to fire at me, spraying bullets into the walls of the hotel hallway. I did a somersault, and whipped my cape in front of my face to repel the bullets that might make contact. The villains started to emerge from the conference room, curious about what was causing the commotion.
One guard advanced and kept firing, while the other one pointed me out to the other Nazis. The villains prepared to attack. The one who looked like a German version of Iron Man warmed up the laser rays in his gauntlets, preparing to fire. The last one out of the conference room was the Black Assassin.
It was the first time I had seen his face since the day he helped kill my and Tony Stark's parents. His face still had that goblin-like color, and his eyes had the cold ferocity of a seasoned killer.
He pulled out a Luger that had seen a lot of use and prepared to fire on me. But I had been preparing a special Batarang for the moment when I would meet the Black Assassin face-to-face. I threw it, and it made its speedy way across the hallway to the conference room into the Black Assassin's chest. He was staggered a little by the impact, and his injury made his partners in crime angrier.
"Schießen Sie ihn!"* Der Grosshorn Eule cried.
*(Shoot him!)
It was at that moment that all of us noticed that there was yelling coming from down the hallway. Someone had called the local police, and everyone that the Monaco gendarmes could muster was now heading down the hallway toward us. There was a large possibility that if the police were able to arrest anyone, they would go after me along with the costumed Nazis.
"Vorsicht!" the dangerously beautiful woman called Night shouted. "Die polizei! Lassen Sie uns hier verlassen!"*
*("Look out! The police! Let's get out of here!")
The female Nazi pressed a button on a communicator and within moments a vertical take-off landing craft touched down on the deck outside. Der Grosshorn Eule pulled a gas capsule from his utility belt and threw it into the midst of the nearing police officers. The woman seemed to emit a black cloud, which also helped to cover the Nazis' escape.
Now it was just me and about a dozen angry Monaco gendarmes who were shouting at me left in the hallway. I threw one of my own smoke bombs to fill the air with confusion and allow me to escape. There were seven Nazis, almost inexplicably still alive and active, ready to spread chaos across the world. Since they would have been at least 70 years old at the youngest, there was no explaining their agility and energy, leastways how young they looked.
Even though they had escaped, I hadn't lost track of them. There was a point to me throwing that Batarang at the Black Assassin.
The moment it struck the Assassin, the Batarang inserted a tiny transmitter into his skin that I had developed with the help of Tony Stark. Wherever the Assassin went, I would know where he was--at least until he found out that he had a signal device on him. Unless someone did major surgery on him for the minor cut that the Batarang would have caused on impact, he would never know that I was tracking him. A tough guy like the Black Assassin would just let the cut heal into a scar, so the transmitter would stay in him, most likely. The thought came to me, though, that I could not stop these Nazis and their mysterious leader alone. They had what seemed to be an international network of agents--the seven I saw were just the leaders.
Since Robin, Batwoman and I had to protect Gotham, it would be nice if there was someone else whom I could trust, someone who could travel the world and stop the Nazis' plans from succeeding. But who would this agent be?
After Tony left, I went down to the hotel casino and gambled for a while. I tried not to be as good as I usually was, lest people recognize me by my usual lucky streak. I looked at my Rolex.
When Alfred and I were packing our bags to return to America, I was deep in thought about the day's events.
As Alfred and I traveled back to America on another Boeing 777, I felt a great temptation to pull the receiver from my carry-on bag and see where the Black Assassin was. But people would have questions about what my device was, so I left it in my bag. I could track him when we got back to the states--the receiver had a very long range.
Originally published as Batman #7-11 at DC/Marvel: The Merging, and may not be reused or
republished in any way without the permission of the author.
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