DC Comics novels--Batman

by Christa Faust

  “Come on, Batgirl, take it like a woman.” He laughed as he continued shooting. The other guard stalked forward from another angle, also rattling off rounds from his assault rifle. Their booted feet crunched on the stone shards scattered about the floor.

  Both stopped several paces from the now pockmarked and nearly unrecognizable statue.

  The guards looked at each other, grinning.

  “We gonna make our bonuses on your body, Batgirl,” the guard on the left said. He had a nasal voice and hairy legs.

  “Course it ain’t the same as tagging Batman, you just being an imitation and what not,” the other one cracked. With that they darted around the ruined sculpture, then froze.

  There was no one there.

  Jaws set, they scanned left and right.

  “Imitation, am I?”

  Together they looked up and found her perched on the statue, her back to the polished stone, arms spread wide, her sky-blue cape draped behind her black-clad sinewy form. Before they could bring their weapons up she opened one hand. A mini flash bang grenade was dropped and went off before it struck the floor.

  The hairy-legged man hollered, firing his weapon impotently—but Batgirl had already leapt down. A stiff-finger jab to a spot just above his elbow caused him to loosen his grip on his weapon, and a sweep of her leg connected boot to jaw. As he dropped, she spun toward his partner.

  “You don’t seem to know what to do with this,” she said, grabbing the barrel of his rifle while using the edge of her other hand to strike him on the bridge of his nose. It was a blow designed to affect his sight. “Better give it to me.” She wrestled it free without encountering any real opposition, as he stumbled back several steps, trying to clear his vision.

  This was the guard with the hairy legs. Regaining his senses he lurched forward, seeking to wrap his arms around Batgirl’s waist and drive her back into the statue. She planted herself and clubbed him viciously on the back of his head with his own rifle. Even with his helmet on, he was dazed.

  The other guard on the floor rose, blinking hard as he swung his weapon around and fired, Batgirl spinning away. The man’s body jerked as the bullets slammed into it. His torso was protected by his armor, but his legs were badly wounded and bleeding profusely. He dropped to his knees

  “Man, what does it take for them to stay down?” Batgirl planted her hand on the back of the kneeling guard, vaulting over him as he fell to the floor. The thick sole of her boot again smashed into the other guard’s face when she arced upward, knocking him back as she landed on her feet.

  It hadn’t been a solid strike, and he’d recovered quicker than she liked. The impression of her boot’s sole on the side of his face, he clicked dry on his weapon. He cursed and threw the rifle on the floor. He was mad as hell, and that made him sloppy. Easily dodging his wild haymaker, she used his own momentum against him in a crisp judo throw that left him on his back at her feet, with the wind knocked out of him. She gave him a stiff heel stomp to the throat.

  That did it. He was out.

  “Hello, pretty lady.”

  5

  Batgirl spun to face the source of the new voice. It was a warm, husky female voice, like honey and rusty nails, calling out to her from an arched doorway on the far side of the room.

  There stood a tall, elegant woman silhouetted in the light from the other room. She was dressed in an asymmetrical, bias-cut gown of pale gossamer silk with a gold Greek key pattern along the hemline and gold, high-heeled gladiator sandals. Her thick, dark hair was pinned up with a gold, leaf-shaped ornament.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Koinonia,” the woman said, stepping into the room, “but you can call me Koi. You’ll have to forgive Maxie. He has an inferiority complex. That’s why he invents all those silly gadgets. He hates a fair fight.”

  Now that the woman’s face was fully illuminated, Batgirl could see that she wasn’t traditionally beautiful. But what she lacked in facial appeal she made up with grace and poise. She moved her long, lean body with the fluid, easy confidence of a dancer or Olympic fencer. Pulling the ornament from her hair, she let her raven waves spill down her back as she thumbed a switch, causing a long telescopic shaft to expand from the bottom of the razor-edged gold leaf until it formed a glittering spear.

  Koinonia tipped her chin toward a rack of antique weapons hung on the far wall.

  “Shall we?” she purred.

  Batgirl smirked and stepped over to the rack. Using a foot to kick at the base of a weathered iron spear, she caused it to flip free and caught it in mid-air. Extending her other hand to perform a terse palm-up gesture with her fingers, she invited her new adversary to bring it.

  Needing no further urging, Koi lunged forward with a series of high and low thrusts that were easily parried. Batgirl had the impression that the woman was feeling her out to get an idea of her strength and skill.

  This woman was bigger and more muscular, so she was going to have to be strategic and unpredictable. She spun her body away and then bent herself over backward, thrusting her weapon up past her own face and toward Koi’s midsection. The woman grunted with surprise as she curved her body inward to avoid the sharp tip. Continuing her spin until she was facing the ground, Batgirl swung the shaft of the spear at Koi’s legs.

  Koinonia leapt up and over her swing, bringing her spear down in a slashing motion that caught the left side of Batgirl’s ribs, slicing through her costume and into the flesh below.

  Damn, that hurt.

  Adrenaline spurred her on, drowning out the sting as she jumped forward, stepping first on the bent knee and then off the hip of her taller opponent to deliver a smashing blow to the side of Koi’s head.

  The larger woman staggered backward, through the doorway she’d entered, and Batgirl followed with an aggressive offensive of kicks and strikes with the shaft of the spear as if it were a bo– staff. Koi countered and dodged each one with hissing ferocity.

  The new room was dimly lit with wavering aquamarine light, and before Batgirl’s eyes could adjust to the change, her enemy ducked to one side and kicked her sharply in the back of the knees, causing them to buckle.

  As Batgirl fell forward, she rounded her right shoulder and twisted her body, planning to roll when she hit the floor and spring immediately back up to her feet. There was just one problem.

  There was no floor.

  Instead, she found herself plunging into warm, chlorinated water. A pool. Forcing herself to remain calm, she tried to open her stinging eyes and assess her surroundings, but all she could see was swirling silver bubbles. There was no bottom that she could reach with her kicking feet, and her spear had been knocked from her grip by the unexpected rush of water. The weight of its iron tip had caused it to sink.

  She had exhaled all the air out of her lungs in preparation for impact with a floor that wasn’t there, so she had no choice but to risk breaking the surface. When she did so, she quickly glanced around and found herself roughly at the center of the deep end of the pool.

  The only light in the room came from four small glowing disks set in the four sides of the pool, just beneath the surface of the rippling water. Her eyes were still burning from the chlorine, but she could make out a vast, windowless chamber with a low, rococo gold ceiling, thick gilded columns, and clusters of nude mosaic nymphs dancing on the walls.

  What she couldn’t see was Koinonia.

  That’s when she noticed a pale, sleek shape headed right for her beneath the surface of the water. She barely had time to suck in a lungful of air when a steely grip grabbed her ankles and pulled her down.

  Kicking out against the grip, she felt her boot connect with something. The grip loosened for a fraction of a second before switching to wrap clutching arms around her waist, pulling her deeper and deeper underwater.

  Her combatant’s long dark hair swirled around in the water. Batgirl grabbed a fistful as the two of them spun into a roll. Her heart was slamming inside her chest, exertion bu
rning up her limited oxygen way too fast, but she could feel Koi’s grip weakening, too. They both needed to breathe, and soon.

  Pulling her knees up, she planted her boots in the center of what her woozy underwater vision told her was the approximate center of her attacker’s body. She gave a powerful push, breaking Koi’s grip on her waist, simultaneously shoving her away and propelling her own body in the opposite direction.

  She twisted in the water and began swimming at top speed. Her cape worked against her, dragging her back, and she hoped that she was headed in the direction of one of the closer sides of the pool, and not toward the far shallow end. Her luck held out, and seconds later her hand hit an edge.

  Batgirl pulled air into her aching lungs as she dragged her dripping body out of the water. She found herself near a doorway by the short side of the deep end, while Koi was over to the left, pulling herself up on one of the long sides about halfway between the deep and shallow ends.

  Moving toward the door, Batgirl noticed Koi’s ornate golden spear leaning against the wall.

  Koinonia was out of the water now, breathing heavily and standing with one palm flat against the face of a mosaic nymph. Her thin white dress had gone completely transparent, and Batgirl couldn’t help but notice that one of her large breasts was clearly artificial—a lump of smooth, featureless rubber held in place by a wispy lace bra.

  The woman noticed her gaze and smiled.

  It was a dangerous smile.

  “It’s an Amazon thing,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Batgirl quipped, flashing a challenging smile of her own. She grabbed the spear and pointed with its wicked, leaf-shaped blade. “I read a lot.” Myth held that Amazons cut off a breast to better aim their bows and arrows and that looked to be where Koi got the idea for her over-the-top theatrical persona.

  Koinonia arched a dark brow.

  “I thought this was going to be a fair fight?” she said. “Then again, I suppose a cute little thing like you has to cheat in order to win.”

  Batgirl frowned.

  “Fine,” she said, dropping the spear and raising her fists in a ready stance. “Have it your way. Because the bigger they are, the harder they—”

  She stopped as Koi grinned and pressed against the mosaic nymph’s pearlescent nipple. A small compartment was revealed. The next thing Batgirl knew, she was looking down the barrel of a snub-nose .32 revolver.

  “What the hell happened to a fair fight?” Batgirl asked, furious at herself for being so gullible but still not worried about this peashooter.

  “There are no fair fights.” The wolfish grin went even wider. “There are people who will do whatever it takes to win, and people who won’t.” She shot at Batgirl.

  The warning voice of Batman yelling in her head reminded Batgirl that it might not be such a good idea to simply stand there and let the small round bounce off her body armor. She dove aside and the top of a freestanding column and a bust on it boomed into pieces behind her. Hell, she realized, the damned gun was loaded with explosive rounds.

  Batgirl’s gaze darted this way and that. The spear was of no use against a pistol and she was light on gadgets in her utility belt. There was a large jug of liquid, dark in the dim light, sitting on the floor between her and Koi. A small, inflatable pool lounger sagged partly deflated about two feet to her left. It was a long shot that probably wouldn’t work, but…

  Ducking and running, she kicked the lounger, sending it sailing. This was merely a distraction allowing her to unlimber her grapple and line from its bracket at the small of her back. She leaped and, twisting in mid-air, sent the grapple straight at Koinonia. The hook raked the back of the other woman’s hand just as she squeezed the trigger. The round nicked Batgirl’s shoulder blade, causing her to grimace despite her protective clothing, but it went past and struck the wall behind her.

  The explosion was deafening in the closed chamber. Koi was smiling, in no hurry to finish her sport. Another report, and there was a resulting explosion of tile fragments where Batgirl had been standing only a millisecond earlier. But she was already in mid roll, grabbing the spear as she went and stabbing its golden tip into the jug of chemicals.

  The harsh searing odor made her gasp and cough as she hoisted the jug on the end of the spear and flung it with all her strength. The container hit Koi in her asymmetrically altered chest, releasing a fountain of caustic blue chemical that splashed up into her face.

  “Shit,” she screamed, staggering back, dropping the gun and covering her face with both hands. Batgirl stepped swiftly forward and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of her head, knocking her off her feet and into the pool. Then she kicked the gun across the tile and into the pool after its flailing, gasping mistress.

  Spinning, she ran back through the doorway to rejoin Batman, and put an end to this little toga party once and for all.

  * * *

  Batman paused, assessing his surroundings. He was in a carpeted hallway, a series of ornate wooden doors on either side of him along its length. At the end of the hall was a statue of Cupid, his arrow drawn back.

  He’d followed Zeus to the second story, and then to here. Behind him was a blackened, smoking hole in the flocked wallpaper. Zeus had shot at him and Batman again had evaded the zig-zag of lightning. When he turned back, the gang boss had disappeared behind one of those doors.

  A glance inside one of the rooms told him that this had once been the VIP section. All types of wanton behavior had gone on behind these doors, but now they implied deadlier possibilities. He took several more steps down the hall, and felt a pressure plate give beneath his boot. As he sprang back a steel barrier dropped into place behind him, a tube hissed out of the wall, and a yellowish gas issued forth.

  Chlorine.

  Batman locked his oxygen mask in place and continued forward, his eyes burning behind his slits. He quickened his pace. In the mist he saw the twinkle of a trip wire, and stepped over it. On his left, the second door from the end was ajar, and there was an almost imperceptible sound from inside. Most likely this was the path Zeus had used to escape. Creeping to the door, Batman used his elbow to strike it, causing the panel to reverberate.

  A lightning bolt shattered it in an instant.

  6

  Stepping into the room, an unharmed Batman saw Maxie Zeus slipping through a sliding glass door and onto a flat rooftop. Bright sun shone through the door, making it difficult to follow the movement. Nonetheless he continued on.

  Sharp claws on concrete brought him up short.

  Blocking the doorway were two guards unlike the others. At first glance, they appeared to be a pair of identical bull mastiffs with packed muscular bodies on heavy, powerful legs. A closer look revealed that these were robotic constructs, each the size of a 140-pound beast of flesh and bone—all alloy and hydraulics, steel teeth snapping open on well-oiled gears. Sunlight shimmered across their sleek lethal forms. Red glowed from their eye sockets. There was something rat-like about their faces, and Batman had a feeling he knew their origin.

  Zeus turned to face him. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this,” he said, smiling broadly, “but one is named Orthrus, and the other is Cerberus.” He gestured toward each of them in turn. “Most fitting, don’t you think?”

  Gotham’s protector didn’t waste time talking.

  Zeus snarled. “Give Batman the Mount Olympus welcome, boys.” He clapped loudly and the two robot dogs, barking and baring metal teeth, leapt forward. “I have a city of non-believers to address.”

  Stepping back, Batman kicked a large chrome and black lacquer coffee table at the clockwork attackers. The sudden movement caused them to pause, but only for an instant. They ran around the barrier and were airborne even faster than he’d expected. The first metal beast hit him with the force of an automobile. He got a hand on one side of the large head as the thing snarled and snapped at him. In place of breath, it had a peculiar, nauseating odor emanating from it
s muzzle, like overheating toy train transformers combined with burning hair.

  The second attacker closed in on his left and, with a grimace of sheer effort, he toppled the one onto the other. The clashing of forged hides was drowned out by the whine of large gears. Looking through the sliding door, Batman watched hinged metal panels open in the rooftop like sidewalk elevators. A half-dozen howitzer-sized hulks rose into place, moving smoothly on hydraulic ball joints.

  As he processed this Orthrus charged at him again. Cerberus hung back.

  The metal mastiff leapt. Batman controlled the momentum so that it carried them over, and he landed on his back. Leveraging the massive creature’s weight, he released it and sent it sailing, crashing into a wet bar. Bottles of liquor exploded as if blown apart, soaking the artificial creature—to no ill effect.

  From his prone position Batman extracted an incendiary capsule from his belt and flung it at the charging machine. The robot ignited at the same moment Cerberus bit into Batman’s boot at the calf. Though the material was designed to withstand any blade, those metal fangs glistening with oil still penetrated, but not all the way into his muscle.

  Still the metal dog had him pinned, and it wasn’t about to let go. Worse yet, Orthrus hadn’t stopped. It circled him, looking for an opportunity to strike. Focusing as he had been taught by Chu Chin Li on Mount Qingcheng, Batman gritted his teeth and lifted his leg, getting it about two inches off the floor.

  The words of the master echoed in his head.

  “No hesitation, just do.”

  The simulated beast continued the assault, its teeth rending his boot in pursuit of a reward of flesh and bone. Batman bellowed incoherently as he shifted his entire body and whipped his leg around, then brought it down forcefully, careful not to strike the jaws. The creature was jarred for an instant and its grip loosened on the lower leg.

  Batman lurched free and got back to his feet. His calf muscle throbbed, but it wasn’t bleeding, nor had he sprained anything in lifting the large android. Barking and slavering like the real thing, Cerberus lunged for him, its front claws raking at his trailing cape.