“You will die!” Omega Freeze slammed his cryonic tentacle down narrowly missing Steel Bat though some of the subzero residue caught some of his cape. Steel Bat crouched low using the billowing cape to prepare his next attack.
“Not today,” Steel Bat stated as he flung a handful of flash-bang pellets at the ice cold killer who once upon a time was known as Arkady Fries. Omega spun his tendril around at speed to make a shield, just what Steel Bat wanted.
“Your pathetic toys won’t save you!” Freeze roared throwing out the other cryocarbonadium cable but the target was gone. “Show yourself, coward!”
“Right here!” Omega Freeze looked up to see Steel Bat plummeting down on him like a wrecking ball. Steel Bat flattened him and then hit him several times to make sure. Omega Freeze lay wheezing on the floor.
“Ya nadeyus' ty gniyesh' v adu!” Arkady spat as he passed out. *
“I probably will,” Steel Bat replied as he snapped on some dura-steel cuffs on Omega’s wrists. “James, I have Omega Freeze.”
“Good work!” came the reply over the radio from Lieutenant James Summers. “Sending in a team now. Any idea why Omega was attacking the dam in the first place?”
“Asides from trying to wipe the city off the map, no…” Steel Bat’s mind raced as he tried to solve the reasoning of the villain. “Steel Bat out!”
__
Steel Bat worked feverishly at the console of the massive computers in the cave where he spent a lot of his time. Schematics of the Gotham Dam on one screen, Arkady Fries’ arrest record on the other, a live feed of Ravencroft in the corner and an algorithm pinging police communications that might warrant his attention.
“Bruce?” Kitty floated down from the cave ceiling intangibly to land beside him. “It’s four a.m. you should come to bed.”
Hearing her voice he shunted into human form and remove his cowl. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’re always busy.” She kissed his cheek tenderly. “Now stop, upstairs before I have to go to work.”
Bruce scooped her up in his arms. “Yes Katya.”
__
“Brooooce, dahling!” Anastacia Six scurried across the floor in jingling fashion thanks to her armfuls of bangles. She air kissed him and took his hand. “How are you?”
“I’m good Anastacia,”
“Acai water? Goji smoothie? Reindeer tears?”
“No, no thank you. What did you want to see me about?”
Anastacia whirled in a circle and pointed at the roof. “Dahling I just wanted to see if you were okay after your breakup.”
Bruce screwed his face up. “What?”
“The tabloids dahling, you and that veiled floozy…”
“You called me here to discuss gossip?”
“Also, to see how that commission from Maxwell Stane is going? So, you and the reporter…?”
“My personal life is my personal life,” he said sternly in a voice he usually used on criminals when he donned his costume. “I will contact Mr. Stane directly. Good day.”
__
Bruce stood on the terrace of Rasputin Manor looking out over the sprawling grounds. His hand held a paintbrush that hovered over the blank canvas. Painting eased his mind. But today his thoughts were a maelstrom. His morning had been wasted by an eccentric gallery curator…but he shouldn’t really complain. He was the son of billionaires and didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want too, he didn’t really have a job. Bruce could sit idly by the pool and hold parties in Monaco for sycophants and wannabes but that wasn’t in his nature.
“Can I help you, Kurt?” Bruce said as he dabbed the brush into some Pharaoh’s Gem green.
“How?” gasped Kurt Kord aka Nightbeetle who wandered across the terrace. “I was stille nacht and flüstern quiet!”*
Bruce tapped his nose. “Your teleportation gives off a sulphurous smell. I knew you were here for the last ten minutes.”
“Next time I shall klopfen on the massive doors!”**
“What do you want Kurt?”
“Just checking in, it’s what freunds do. After we came to help your rescue when Jokade…”
“My rescue?”
Kurt smiled. “Ya your rescue. It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for help…you giant fire hydrant!”
Bruce smiled. “Fire hydrant? That’s mean. Let’s go inside, perhaps you can help me.”
“Mein gott in himmel!” Kurt clutched his chest in faux heart attack. “Do my ears deceive me? The Girder of Gotham needs HELP.”
The pair laughed.
__
“So, will you?” Jokade looked across at Dr. Karleen Sofzell with his piercing eyes.
“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered into her clipboard. “Now, I’ve had a word to Dr. Ravencroft about a change to your medication.”
“Oh goody!” Jokade rocked against his restraints and dropped a piece of carefully folded paper on the floor. “Am I getting more Risperidone than Octobane? I hope so!”
“I’m not at liberty to compare patients, Mr J,” Sofzell stood up and walked around behind him. “Besides, he’s got nothing on you. Guards! Please take Jokade back to his cell!”
Four burly men bundled the Clown Prince Of Murder World out of the room. Dr. Sofzell crouched down and picked up the note for Dr. Octobane and casually followed them out.
To be continued...
New who's who?
For those of you who don't speak Russian or German, the translation is under here:
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