Batman Beats Up a Bunch of Guys
Ten. Eleven... Twelve..... Thirteen. Thirteen of them. In the room next to the fire escape and adjacent to the main hall. Six are at a table emptying stolen purses. Most can't be older than twenty-five. A waste. Knives and pistols are on the table. Eight are visibly armed. Three have shotguns, 12-gauge. A few with sub-machine guns. This may be trickier than I thought. I put the binoculars back on the belt and thumb across each compartment. I take the grapple gun. Compact as it is heavy. Wind's blowing from the east tonight. Random and hard. It's half-past 2:00 AM. A good hour and I couldn't have asked for a quieter building. A destitute part of town. Seven stories of water damage and rat excrement with the men, ahem, boys boarded up on top. But their arsenal tells me they're in with someone loaded. Maybe Cobblepot. Will have to investigate further. I stand and assume the position on the ledge, aim, and fire a line up sixty degrees and strap the piece to my waist. I remember when I used to miss.
I come in fast, faster than I'd like, but the one staring toward the financial district doesn't notice. I land on the north end of the roof and soften it with the cape. I hang down the concrete rain gutter and peak just so at them. The light'll have to go first. A curved blade leaves my hand and bursts it. Textbook. They'll see the blade. They'll know it. Just like I want them to. By the time they go for their weapons I'm at the hallway window by the staircase. I place a thermite charge on it and climb back to the roof. Sonar's telling me they're getting antsy. Four smoke pellets go from the belt to my hand. My other hand's on a button just above my left hip bone. Here we go.
The charge shatters the window and shoots glass into every corner of the hall. They start filing out of their den. I go in behind through the fire escape. Play the shadows. No lookout. They're armed to their eyes but they're not smart. I manage a sleeper hold on the one nearest to me. I let him down without a sound. As I reach for his friend's ankle he trips over a rotted hole in the floor. Suddenly four faces are on me. Five. Six. The clumsy one yelps like a puppy and the others petrify but it won't last. Within seconds they're aiming and yelling. The pellets hit the floor and the room goes gray.
I grab one by the skull and bloody it on the wall. I have to be fast. Can't let them start shooting. Get the guns out of their hands. He won't let go of his Remington. I headbutt him while slashing the man's arms to the right of me. They give. One comes up behind. I throw his partner into him and they both fall. An uzi is cocked five feet away. I pass over the two beside me and leap at him. The gun goes out the window. He screams, I punch. I turn and stun one with the cape. They still can't see but the smoke will clear shortly and there's more in the hall. Blasted wind. A kick to the calf breaks his femur. He drops his pistol and I take the time to push it away while the other tries to attack with a knife. He gets close. Too close. But I dodge, take his wrist, and twist. The smokescreen's sucking out the window. Seven left if I'm lucky.
They crowd round the doorway and I break through. The hall's tight and they're all around. Knives. Fists. Nine millimeters. They start going at me all at once. I pin one with my back to the inside wall. A combination to the head and his legs. I feel him numb but keep him there while I grapple another with my left arm. Couple more ounces of pressure and his neck might snap. A right elbow to the mouth fills it with teeth. I can see one moving away with a shotgun. He's gonna fire. No. A fourth man is pulling at my left. Won't let me go. No. He can't. I ignore him and reach for the belt. Man in my left arm is still struggling. One pinned to the rear is out. He aims. These children die. If I am weak. I shout and pivot, sending the grappled thug all the way into his nagging buddy. A flashbang loosens from the belt and ignites.
He doesn't shoot. Or he hasn't yet. I get three batarangs down the hall. Two in his shooting arm and one in his shoulder. I'm so focused I barely register the steel that's just been embedded into my chest. It hurts but I see no blood. The kevlar holds. Just a few broken ribs. He's brandishing a fireman's axe. He backs away and swings again. I duck and try an uppercut to his manhood. It's effective. There's one still standing and he's reeling from the flashbang. He's swinging madly and afraid. I throttle him and try not to make it hurt too much. There's moaning and cursing in the hall. The man with the broken mouth starts to get up but a kick to his gut settles him. I walk slowly back to the fire escape. I savor it. I tell them the police are on their away. And I leave it at that. Back out into the city breeze and satisfied.
I come in fast, faster than I'd like, but the one staring toward the financial district doesn't notice. I land on the north end of the roof and soften it with the cape. I hang down the concrete rain gutter and peak just so at them. The light'll have to go first. A curved blade leaves my hand and bursts it. Textbook. They'll see the blade. They'll know it. Just like I want them to. By the time they go for their weapons I'm at the hallway window by the staircase. I place a thermite charge on it and climb back to the roof. Sonar's telling me they're getting antsy. Four smoke pellets go from the belt to my hand. My other hand's on a button just above my left hip bone. Here we go.
The charge shatters the window and shoots glass into every corner of the hall. They start filing out of their den. I go in behind through the fire escape. Play the shadows. No lookout. They're armed to their eyes but they're not smart. I manage a sleeper hold on the one nearest to me. I let him down without a sound. As I reach for his friend's ankle he trips over a rotted hole in the floor. Suddenly four faces are on me. Five. Six. The clumsy one yelps like a puppy and the others petrify but it won't last. Within seconds they're aiming and yelling. The pellets hit the floor and the room goes gray.
I grab one by the skull and bloody it on the wall. I have to be fast. Can't let them start shooting. Get the guns out of their hands. He won't let go of his Remington. I headbutt him while slashing the man's arms to the right of me. They give. One comes up behind. I throw his partner into him and they both fall. An uzi is cocked five feet away. I pass over the two beside me and leap at him. The gun goes out the window. He screams, I punch. I turn and stun one with the cape. They still can't see but the smoke will clear shortly and there's more in the hall. Blasted wind. A kick to the calf breaks his femur. He drops his pistol and I take the time to push it away while the other tries to attack with a knife. He gets close. Too close. But I dodge, take his wrist, and twist. The smokescreen's sucking out the window. Seven left if I'm lucky.
They crowd round the doorway and I break through. The hall's tight and they're all around. Knives. Fists. Nine millimeters. They start going at me all at once. I pin one with my back to the inside wall. A combination to the head and his legs. I feel him numb but keep him there while I grapple another with my left arm. Couple more ounces of pressure and his neck might snap. A right elbow to the mouth fills it with teeth. I can see one moving away with a shotgun. He's gonna fire. No. A fourth man is pulling at my left. Won't let me go. No. He can't. I ignore him and reach for the belt. Man in my left arm is still struggling. One pinned to the rear is out. He aims. These children die. If I am weak. I shout and pivot, sending the grappled thug all the way into his nagging buddy. A flashbang loosens from the belt and ignites.
He doesn't shoot. Or he hasn't yet. I get three batarangs down the hall. Two in his shooting arm and one in his shoulder. I'm so focused I barely register the steel that's just been embedded into my chest. It hurts but I see no blood. The kevlar holds. Just a few broken ribs. He's brandishing a fireman's axe. He backs away and swings again. I duck and try an uppercut to his manhood. It's effective. There's one still standing and he's reeling from the flashbang. He's swinging madly and afraid. I throttle him and try not to make it hurt too much. There's moaning and cursing in the hall. The man with the broken mouth starts to get up but a kick to his gut settles him. I walk slowly back to the fire escape. I savor it. I tell them the police are on their away. And I leave it at that. Back out into the city breeze and satisfied.
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