Date: Fri, 21 Apr 1995 09:41:24 -600 Reply-To: Otis the Omnipotent Aardvark Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Otis the Omnipotent Aardvark Subject: "Gothic" ("In The End..." Pt.2) Ch.7 X-cc: Lorene Buttram , Brandy Lumpkins , Haydee Viardo , Jonathan Haupt , Pat Stubblefield , Elizabeth Donald ****************************************************************************** " I N T H E E N D . . . " ****************************************************************************** A Highlander/Batman Tale of the Future Jason R. Tippitt, 1994-95 http://www.utm.edu/~jtippitt/j.html Warning: Violence and Profanities Comments, suggestions, questions, back-chapter requests to JTippitt@Utm.Edu (Flames will just be used to start fireplace next winter) Book 2: "Gothic" Chapter 7 ******* The fact the criminals were out even on a night like this was a sad sign for humanity, Ollie reckoned. If it weren't for the shelter of buildings slowing down the wind, Ollie imagined that this weather could send skinny people airborne like the rubbish in the streets. "It's like the end of the fucking world," Ollie muttered. Robin looked over at him. "Whassat?" "Nothing." The girl had balls, Ollie had to give her that. She'd been shot two days ago and she was out on patrol again. Kenny was here, too, and their constant bickering struck Ollie as a kinda good thing, proof that maybe there was still room in this Godforsaken world for something as trivial as Love At First Sight. As for Kenny, he was fidgeting. "Damn it, one of them's coming." "Shut up, spud, you're going to blow the stakeout," Robin said, elbowing him. "There's an Immortal here." Kenny had gone white. "A powerful one." "Oh, I'm so sure. You watched too many bad movies as a kid." "Shut up, Robin!" He glared at her. "I'm not joking." "Both of you, shut your traps," Ollie hissed. Below, five Sons of the Bat pulled to a halt in a black car. They climbed out, looking the area over. They carried flash-guns, designed to blind an opponent, and tazers. Around their chests, they wore flak jackets, and simplified utility belts hung at their waists. All of them had shaved heads, with blue bat tattoos over the left eye. Their goggles gave them night vision. They were the next best thing to Batman. "What're we here for, anyway?" Kenny asked. "Why do we have to sit and watch?" "If you want to go back underground, I'm not stopping you," Ollie hissed. "But do you think you can hide from another Immortal there?" The Sons of the Bat crashed through the back door of the warehouse across the alley. Ollie looked at Kenny. "As for why we're here, we're backup. There's a gang of arms runners using this warehouse as a flea market. We're shutting them down." From inside the building, sounds of gunfire erupted for a moment. There were sounds of a struggle from the inside, then it all died down. Ollie felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise. It shouldn't be over so quickly, unless they'd been set up... Two of the Sons limped out of the doorway carrying a third. "Ollie!" The three backups dropped down to the street. "What happened?" the archer asked. "They got Fred and Mike. Would've gotten us, too, but this babe..." "Don't call me that." Kenny, Robin, and Ollie spun to see a tall Asian woman behind them. She was dressed in black, with her long hair tied into a braid in the back. "Shiva," Ollie said, stepping back to look at her with a squinted eye. "What kind of game are you playing here?" "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" "Make that, 'a *really* old friend,'" Kenny murmured. Robin stepped in the middle. "Well, gee, since we're all good buds here, why don't we go to the--" Ollie elbowed her in the stomach. "I'm sure she's just passing through, aren't you, Shiva?" "I need to talk to Batman." "He's dead," Ollie said. "If you wanna hold a seance, that's your business; you can do that anywhere." "Oh, please." She lay a hand on Robin's shoulder. "There's a Robin; there's a Batman. The logic's obvious." "That's what *I* said," Kenny murmured. He was sticking to Ollie like a second skin. Thunder rolled in the background; nearby lightning illuminated the sky and was followed by an earth-shaking boom. When the light died, they saw Bruce crouching atop the car. He was dressed all in black, carrying a long staff. "I don't make a point of lying to my friends, Ollie." He leapt down from the car and landed next to the lithe assassin. "You didn't dress up for me," she said. "You didn't phone ahead." He took her hand and kissed it. Lightning crackled again. "There's business we must attend to," Shiva said firmly, pulling back her hand. There was almost a smile on her face. Almost. "Isn't there always?" Bruce asked. "But we can talk about that later. First, you've got to see the new setup." ******* "Okay, Dick, you've got me here. What're you planning?" Senator Grayson turned to look at the Immortal. "Would you like to change into something dry, Carl?" "I'll live." "Oh, I bet you will." Grayson smiled. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, making Carl think he looked...well, oily. Slimy. "I bet if I called a palm reader in here she'd have fun looking at your lifeline." He walked over to his bar. "Would you care for a drink?" "No thanks." Carl looked around Grayson's office. The only photographs were one of his parents--the trapeze artists known as The Flying Graysons, killed years ago--and one of Dick with a slender blonde woman, apparently taken at a tennis court. Dick walked over to his desk, gestured for Carl to take a seat. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I don't want to be a bad host." Carl fixed his large brown eyes on Dick's icy blue ones. "I'll stand. I don't mind being a bad guest." Dick shrugged. "I'll get to business, then. Your country needs you, Carl. You want to help your country, don't you, Senator Robinson?" "Don't jerk my chain, Dick. I know you've got me by the balls here. Is this about your man MacLeod?" Dick sat back. "Well, we're certainly direct today, aren't we?" He downed his scotch. "Yeah. MacLeod. He's been fucking around in Tibet and could land us in a war with China at any moment. I'm sure I don't need to tell you the Chinese have a nuclear arsenal, too." Carl turned his back on Grayson. "I read the newspapers, Dick." "Please, call me Richard." Carl spun back around. "If the shoe fits, wear it. Are you wanting me to kill MacLeod? Is that what you're wanting? For me to put down your own man?" "I just want you to find him. The Squad will do the hit, if you want. But if he keeps on the way he is, the human race is doomed." Carl shut his eyes. He remembered the Hunter policeman Duncan had rescued him from...would he ever be able to look Duncan in the eye again if he killed the man's kinsman? "Maybe we ought to let you humans kill each other off; we'd probably get along better if some of us didn't have ideas of enslaving you humans." "Oh, so you don't consider yourself a human, eh?" Dick stood and walked over to the liquour cabinet. "You think you're a higher form of life, is that it?" "That's not the way I am, and you know it." Carl finally did sit down--but, he told himself, it was of his own choice, not Dick's. He couldn't stand condescending asses like Grayson. "I've spent a lot of my life trying to help people. I used to carry a lot of grudges, but not any more. At least not when people don't act like they think they're better than me." "I don't think that. Not at all." Grayson downed another glass of scotch. "Oh, no. I'm here begging for your help, actually. There's no way I could stop MacLeod. Not even the Justice League could have stopped MacLeod, if they were still around. He's untouchable...he has an ace in the hole that only an Immortal could withstand." And another glass. "Hell, he's putting together an army of Immortals. He'd have come for you, soon, if he knew about you." "An *army* of Immortals?" "Well, maybe I'm overstating the case. More like a surgical strike team." Dick walked back over to the desk and took his seat again. "We know what he's up to; a Duncan MacLeod disappeared from the west coast a few days ago; he's got the Joker, the *Joker* of all people, locked up somewhere secret; he abducted a child-crime ring's leader in the Big Apple and attempted to get another in Gotham. That's all in the past week." "How do you know all this?" "He's supposedly under my jurisdiction. I've had him tailed." Carl shook his head. "Man, Duncan MacLeod is my friend--" "Then convince *him* to do the deed. Just as long as Connor is stopped. Nothing else matters." Carl stood and walked to the window. Outside, the storm raged on. Through the trees and flying newspapers he could see the Washington Monument, still lit against this night. "You damn well better get some Immortal firepower on my side," Carl said. "I don't care *how* good they are; if you send me against Connor MacLeod with a bunch of mortals, this really *will* be a Suicide Squad." ******* Atop the Wayne-owned building in New York City where Jason Todd lived, the rain kept pouring. The storm had knocked out power all over the city, fires raged and gas lines were burst in hundreds of locations. It would be quite some time before there was any investigation of the pyrotechnics atop this building--if, indeed, any New Yorkers had even looked up into the sky and seen it. Decent people were in tonight. What did that mean, when the Immortals were on the prowl tonight? The man climbed the stairs, taking his time, unsure what he would find. He hoped his intuitions were wrong, that the massive Quickening of earlier had *not* been Dragon's, and that the small one had not been Jason's. He still Sensed someone atop the building, so he kept trudging up the stairs. What would he find when he reached the top? If an Immortal could take out Richard Dragon and Batman (well, not *the* Batman, but *a* Batman), how could he hope to win? Tasers were always an added bonus. Why had he never gotten around to buying one? He came to the elevator to the penthouse. All the building's power was still blacked-out; things never *were* simple. He reached out with his gloved hands and pulled the doors open. The elevator car was nowhere in sight. Time to climb, it seemed. Within ten minutes, he was on the roof. He looked to his left, saw Richard Dragon's dead body. Clean white suit bloodied. Damn shame for Richard to have wasted money like that. Wouldn't need it now, though, would he? Off to the right--the body of a girl? What? Where was Jason? He saw the gleam of steel out of the corner of his eye, and barely sidestepped the attack. "Jason!" Jason looked at the faceless man in the trenchcoat. "Vic?" His eyes looked hollowed-out. The girl--his Michelle, then. Damn. Thief would have been handy. Vic nodded. "Yep. We better get out of here, kid. Who did this?" "Bane." Jason staggered a step. "Think I'm about to black..." And he did. Vic shook his head. Jason probably had the car down in the basement; that's where he always kept it. If Jason had stopped by here on his way to Ellis Island, and was still in this casual attire, he must have been here to get the Batsuit, like Vic had suggested. Damn. In some way, this was almost his fault. No way was he lugging Jason down the stairs. Vic shook his head as he walked into the penthouse to find where Jason might keep his costume. In ten minutes' time he had it figured out; in another five, he'd dropped Jason down the hidden elevator shaft and climbed down after him to cut the brakes. Twenty minutes later, bruised but more or less whole, he was driving the catatonic Jason through the tunnel and away from the building. ******* To be continued... ========================================================================= =========================================================================