Tuesday, April 26, 2005

A Dark Knight at Wayne Manor (Part 2)

Batman’s smile was cold as ice. It was nice to be home. It was going to be even nicer once he had eliminated that brat Nightwing, though. Dick had long gotten in his way. He never took his responsibilities as seriously as he should. He was too willing to let his friends sway him. Weaknesses. All weakness. Who needs friends so long as you had minions? Friends were a liability in combat. Minions were an asset — they could be deployed and if they didn’t come back, you just got more.

Nightwing was somewhere on the mansion’s grounds and he was going to find him. He was going to find him and...

The smile faded from the Dark Knight’s face.

What exactly am I going to do to Dick? And why am I so mad at him?

Batman looked around him and noted the presence of Bane, Harley, and Man-Bat as well as Dove and the Checkmate agents. They were all looking at him, obviously waiting for orders.

Why am I working with Bane and the others? This doesn’t make any sen—

A shock ran through his skull and all of his reservations about what he was doing vanished. Certainty of cause returned — and with it, his evil smile.

“Here is what we are going to do,” Batman said briskly. “Langstrom, you and Bane will move into the mansion proper and see if there are any surprises waiting for us. The rest of us will work along the west side of the mansion toward the garage. Bane, if there is no reason for you to stay in the mansion, I want you to also head toward the garage. I don’t want to divide our forces any more than I have to. You medics hang back in support and help out where necessary.

“Oh, and remember this. You have a free hand to eliminate whoever you find. But Nightwing is mine!

“Dove fly me over to the garage.”

Dove did as she was told, depositing her leader near some elaborate topiary where he promptly vanished into the shadows.

“Let’s go you winged freak,” Bane snarled at Man-bat.

“Skree!” responded Man-Bat as he took to the air, grabbed Bane by the shoulders and flew toward the Mansion’s front door. He slowed only once to allow Bane to kick the heavy oaken doors off their hinges and then the two darted inside. Man-bat flew rapidly through the dark corridors, quickly reaching the main great room. He put Bane down. Nothing moved. There were no sounds of any kind. The house appeared empty.

“Well, that’s that,” growled Bane. “I’m not hanging around in here while all the fun is taking place outside. I’m...hey, look at this!”

A motorcycle stood near one wall, spare parts and tools littering the ground around it.

“Must be nice to be so rich you can work on your motorcycle in the TV room and not have to worry about the mess. Someone else will clean up after you, so what do you care?”

“Skree!”

“Well, since I’m heading for the garage anyway...” Bane punched a button on the back of his mask and Venom pumped into his blood. “Ah...what a rush.” His muscles bulged and he felt his inhuman strength return. He picked up the motorcycle in one hand and ran down a wide hallway to the west. Without stopping, he swung the motorcycle against the door at the end, shattering it, ran across the thin grassy path next to the mansion, and entered the garage.

“This is where a motorcycle belongs,” Bane said, holding the vehicle like a weapon.

# # #

“I can see them moving up toward the garage,” Hawkman called down to the team, “Bane ran in there and I saw Dove fly Batman forward, but I’ve lost sight of him now.”

“I’m not surprised,” responded Nightwing. “Get down here. I want you to get me into that garage. Iceman, you bring Doc. We know where they are. No sense in hiding from them.”

Hawkman dove down and grabbed Nightwing under the shoulders. In seconds, he was flying into the darkened garage through the rear doorway. Iceman and Doc Samson were only seconds behind, borne forward by one Iceman’s ice sheets. Hawkman dropped Nightwing and the team’s young leader appraised the situation. Bane stood just to one side of the doorway, a motorcycle in hand. He didn’t see Batman anywhere, but he knew that meant next to nothing. Oh well, if Bruce won’t come out and play, at least we can have fun with one of his lackeys.

“Bane, you look so tough standing there, a veritable pillar of testosterone and strength! Let’s see how you feel after a little bit of this!”

Nightwing pulled, unfolded, and threw one of his trademark nighterangs all in one fluid motion. The razor sharp weapon whizzed past Bane’s head and thunked solidly into the wall behind him. Bane counted his lucky stars. The kid seldom missed with those things and he knew he had just dodged a bullet. But just a second later, Bane’s elation changed to shock as he realized that, in fact, his luck may have just run out. The motorcycle, which until then had felt as light as paper began to grow heavy. Nightwing had severed some of the tubes that transmitted the venom into his blood. He was growing weaker...fast.

Doc Samson seized upon the opportunity that Nightwing had provided him. Using his knowledge of biology from years as a medical researcher, he targeted a particularly vulnerable spot on Bane’s torso and unleashed a mighty roundhouse right. The blow doubled over the killer from the Carribean, causing him to drop the motorcycle to the ground with a crash.

# # #

5 Comments:

At 10:06 AM, Blogger Gelf13 said...

Wow... Doc Sampson! Sweet. I remember this game... vaguely. hee hee.

 
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