Post by lizity on Aug 30, 2011 12:01:00 GMT -5
She’d been back in Gotham for three weeks. Gotham, the city that she swore all her life she’d never come back too. She’d had nightmares about coming back here years ago and she’d had them again the last few weeks but she was a grown woman now and a better trained one. Still, the phantom ache under her collar bone reminded her of why she’d made that vow all those years ago.
Travis had changed all that though. He’d come brushing into her life like the usual hurried American and here they were three months layer back in his home town meeting his father. She knew he wanted to propose but his family was old fashion, she under stood that, she’d been raised in two old fashion families. The approval of a father meant a lot to a son and she knew Travis wanted his old mans.
Three did seem to be her lucky number lately too seeing as it had taken her three hours to get Travis to go home. She’d insisted on having her own place while they were in Gotham and at least keeping up appearances that they weren’t sleeping together. Plus she needed somewhere to hide all her research and the ‘other’ things she’d brought to the US form Italy with her. Her suit, and the gear that she’d gathered up were all waiting, tucked away in the back of her closet waiting for a night when she was alone.
She was tracking down the people who’d bought up the larger business that had once belonged to her father’s empire. Sal, Travis father, had once been her first guess as to who had done it but he owned only a few of the smaller businesses and nothing that turned over the kind of profit that people would have been interested in. Sal had his own money and while he had taken over as Don when the whole of the Bertinelli family had been wiped out, he’d just been the next in command. Whoever had orchestrated the hit that took out the family over four separate cities had to be higher up the food change.
Dressing in the dark of her apartment she pulled on the tight fighting leather suit and mask that she’d had made after her twenty first birthday by a military designer. She’s had a pair of crossbows made for her, pistol sized and a matching pair in honor of Mario who had taught her how to fight and fight back in Italy. He’d helped turn a broken child into a determined and strong woman.
She’d bought a motorcycle a week before and had it stashed nearby. Leaving her apartment through the fire escape she picked it up and headed into the city. Her first stop was near the docks, playing look out over some shipments coming in through one of her father’s old companies. She wanted to know what they were doing with it and exactly who they were. Names on paper didn’t always mean a damn with the mob.
~~
Loose debris skittered away under his booted feet as he landed nimbly on the lower laying building. An easy night's breeze picked at the fringe of his cape as he walked to the edge casting his gaze down below. There were four guards, none of them dock authorities. They'd been paid off, as was typical of this city; crime gutting it from the inside out at all levels of government and official offices. The same corruption committed by the men whom had killed his family. He'd killed one, spared the other. he hadn't been able to bring himself to take another life, not without becoming one of them. He hadn't since, the other murderer rotted in prison. And yet, it brought little consolation to the small boy that spent his youth with only an elderly butler to guide him.
One guard in the gate shack turning away possible interlopers, another operating a crane that was removing shipping boxes from the ship and two that walked the grounds ensuring all went to plan. Idly he wondered why they even bothered the police wouldn't come even if he had called them himself. Anger gripped his heart but he turned it to ice, encasing his heart, letting it grow cold.
He lifted a foot onto the edge of the building, a long drop, but nothing he hadn't attempted, he'd been about to step off the ledge when something caught his eye. Creeping down the street was a motorcycle, its headlights off and moving at a coast. he watched it pull to a stop about a block away and its rider creeping along the side of the building. Police? Unlikely. Reporter? maybe. Rival criminal? Probably. And yet, something about the rider made him doubt his analysis, something in the way he moved. No.. she. he corrected mentally as the rider passed right under him nonethewiser.
It was unlike the mafia to allow women into their ranks, old traditions died hard, Bruce supposed, his brow furrowed beneath the mask. In any case, it didn't matter, she was one of them, he'd simply have to take down five crooks instead of four.
He dropped from the edge.
Bruce landed behind the wire fence, sharp barbed wire arched outwards preventing anyone from scaling it, provided they didn't have a mediocum of intelligence. he crept along in the shadow of the building he'd stood on, shadow cast long in the shadow of the pale moon light as he flitted from dark place to dark place. He made his way tot he low lying roof of one of the warehouses and crept along it, moving on its spine until reaching a sky light. His eyes adjusted to the light within and he saw two groups of suits arguing over money, one suitcase sat open, piles of carefully stacked bills lining its inside. Another similar suitcase lay on the floor, the white contents of its plastic packages dashed about it, swirling gently in the drafty breeze of the warehouse.
Someone didn't like the merchandise. it was time to see if the customer was always right. Bruce turned back and looked to mark the rider but found she was no longer there, he'd looked away too long. Bruce cursed under his breath and turned back tot he window, he'd have to deal with her later. he unlatched his rocket propelled grappling hook, clutch it in his hand, formulating a plan of attack in his mind.
~~
Moving along the shadows wall she had the nagging feeling of being watched. She hated that feeling, like an itch between the shoulders that she couldn’t reach or brush away. She’d felt it most of her life but then again she’d had people watching her most of her life too. It was something that she was far too familiar with. No alarms were going off though so she hadn’t been spotted… had she?
Shaking off the feeling she continued moving along the edge of the building, staying out of the light and in the darker shadows, the purple of her outfit making her blend in more. She paused for a long moment leaned against a wall as she eyed the building she needed to get too. She’d have to cross half the courtyard. The guard was busy, the crane operator was focusing on his work… Pushing off with both feet she took off running, across the lighted yard to the safely of shadows on the other side.
The door she paused near wasn’t locked as she wrapped her hand around the knob and tested it. She pulled it open half an inch to peer in finding the two men inside. She needed to see their faces to know who they were. Most likely made men, working for some higher boss but they’d be at a party eventually and she’d be able to finger the man they belonged too. Being a woman in the mafia was easy, smile, stick your tits out, cook and pop out babies. Thankfully Travis saw her as more than a pretty face or that would have ended faster than it started. But letting everyone else thing she was just another pretty face was fine, silly questions like who people were didn’t make them suspect anything.
Counting to three in her head she pulled the door open and stepped inside, letting it close behind her loud enough to get their attention. She was already running at the two men, a crossbow out and firing at the hand that was reaching for the gun at his hip, catching through his hand and leaving him screaming and staring at the bolt as she came up to the other with a round house to the face from a thick steal toed boot.
~~
Bruce heard foot steps pounding on the pavement from his place on the roof. The guards were preoccupied, they hadn't even noticed. Some help they were, he thought ruefully. She had reached the door and the arch of the roof over the door blocked her from sight but he had heard the slam of the door shutting. His eyes flicked back to the skylight where the rider was already sprinting across the room simultaneously pointing, aiming and firing dual crossbows, both hitting their marks. Impressive the thought, but who was she? So deranged mafia assassin, no doubt... But whose? She had fired at both the Vercetti family and the Punchinellos. A third player? He'd find the answers soon enough. Bruce stood to his full height and took a short two steps lead before smashing through the skylight, glittering shards of glass raining down on all of them. He landed on the table with a thunk, one hand reaching back and, then forward releasing two batarangs, slicing through the air they both hit separate men, the weapon buzzing sharply as electricity coursed through their bodies until they collapsed convulsing. He didn't stay long enough to see the effect, however, he was already bounding off the table, glass crunching beneath him.
A goon from one family - he couldn't tell which - lunched with a knife, sloppy he critiqued mentally, catching his fore arms and bending it against the elbow joint, a sick snap followed by a scream of pain echoed off the cavernous warehouse. Bruce planted a foot and kicked the gangster to the ground, his good arm clutching the other in agony, it hung uselessly at his side.
Other men were ushering the highest ranked members out the back door while the remainder stayed to stall the "two masked freaks" as they called them. Bruce was already engaging another before realizing the rider was fighting next to him, his sideward glance noted the strange outfit, sardonically he asked himself whether it was any more or less so than his own. Block, parry, disable, the process repeated. The two middle management gangster had escaped but those that weren't dead from Huntress's hand or unconscious from Batman's were fleeing in the wake of sirens. This hardly seemed to fill the black garbed Batman with any urgency. He bent over and picked up the gangster whose arm he had broken by the collar, holding him to his face, a scowl wrapped maliciously on his lips
"Tell your boss I'm coming for him." Bruce threatened in a gravel voice as he dropped the gangster to the ground, he scrabbled to his feet and began a haphazard, stumbling run walk out of the warehouse. Bruce watched him go before turning to the black and purple rider
"This is my city." He said in even tones, his eyes regarding her from beneath the cowl, his cape closed around his torso. "Who do you work for?"
Anyone who was anyone in the Gotham underground knew Batman, the man whom had mysteriously appeared two years previous causing no end of chaos and frustration to the criminal elements that infested the city like rats. The sirens were growing in a crescendo and still he seemed unconcerned. Penetrating eyes still regarding her with no small amount of scorn.
~~
The moment she started moving to take the men down she felt alive again. Some small part of her felt like she was back in Italy training with Mario but this wasn’t training and those were real guns with real bullets. She took no chances. She wasn’t killing anyone but they weren’t getting up any time soon. She just needed their faces then she wanted them crawling back to their bosses so she knew who belonged to who. And drugs, dealing in drugs, her father would have been ashamed of what his empire had turned into.
The crash of glass made her glanced up for a moment then look away, lifting her own cap to shield her from the shards that rained down before tossing it back and moving back into the fight. She was hell on two legs as she moved in beside the other mask. Who knew the big bad Batman would show up on the first night she started hunting in Gotham. Fate? Or was she screwed? Either way it made her heart pound with excitement. She didn’t let it show though as she confronted the goons that rushed in to stall them.
She grabbed one man, cracking his face into her knee, leaving his face in a wash of blood as she dropped him to the floor, his gun in her hand though with a flick she dropped the clip out of it and had it in two other pieces, both being thrown at the next guy in front of her. He was dispatched with a kick to the chest that broke most of his ribs and another to the face that left him out cold on the pavement.
Wheeling around the only person left standing now was Batman. She stood ready, light on her feet and legs slightly apart, ready for a fight if he was going to come at her. The line of his mouth made him look angry. He sent the last conscious man running for his life but that didn’t make her settle down any.
His warning made her smirk a little, a pull of the corner of her mouth that made one dimple show. “And you can keep your city. I just want the mob. AS for who I work for,” She shrugged. “A ghost, a long forgotten one.”
~~
He usually struck fear into the hearts of those whom crossed his path, but she was doing a good job of pretending not to be. He saw through her. Bruce didn't move, listened as she spoke, still, like a cat waiting to pounce. Beneath the cape concealing his body every muscle was taut and ready.
"I'm already after them." he said coldly, as though her services were that of a plumber and no long needed. "You'll only get in the way." despite the rather bloody mess she made. Something on his arm began to beep and he brought it from the depths of his cape watching a small blip move across a green screen. He had planted a tracking bug when he picked the gangster up, his methods slightly more sophisticated than simply following them and hoping they didn't see you.
In any case she had a flare for the dramatics. A ghost indeed Bruce thought caustically. She seemed to have no intent on making the first move and he wasn't itching for another fight. His eyes shifted sideward at the police lights flickering through the windows as the spun. He had to make up his mind quickly, shouts were already filling the air. As though second guessing himself, after a moment's hesitation, he spoke.
"If you want to find them, you'll have to follow me. the only way that is happening... is if you answer my questions.all of them." Bruce said firmly, as Huntress looked down to think on it, Bruce was holding his hand upward, the grappling hook shooting up and latching onto the frame of the broken skylight, reeling him up to it quickly. If she chose to come, Helena would have to use more mundane means of getting there.
~~
Her heart was still pounding from the fight and being so close to the one person that made the mob shit their pants on a nightly bases. It was a rush to fight beside him, to stand staring at him. Part of her wondered if he’d attack her too and a part of her hopped he would so she could test herself against a real fight. Anything less than four men and she was bored these days. She needed more challenges.
“You’re getting in my way. I know the mob better than you do. When I find who I’m looking for you can have the rest of them. I don’t care.” She had a classic Gotham accent at least, no hint of the Italian one she usually spoke when she wasn’t behind the mask. She figured it would help keep her identity secret a little longer and hopefully completely. She really did care about Travis. Having to leave him because half the mom was after her wasn’t exactly the best way to say ‘I love you.’
Hr eyes flicked to the windows too, catching the red and blue flashes and the soon after yells from the cops that were getting to the scene. This wouldn’t do either. Getting arrested would slow her down though she figured that Sal could by her way out if push came to shove. Still, he’d want to know what she was doing there and she wouldn’t have an answer for him.
She glared at him with narrowed eyes as he made the offer and demand then took off. She should have left completely, shaken him off her path and gone home but she couldn’t do that, not if he had some answers she could use. She turned and slipped through the warehouse out a back door and followed the fence line to the water front. Slipping around it she was gone, circling around to pick up her bike get away from the cops. She’d done this in Italy more than a few times, trying to get information out of the men there. One of those men was dead and he was the one that pointed her toward Gotham. He’d told her to follow the money if she was so smart.
Leaving the flashing lights in the distance she headed deeper into the city, glancing up as if she might catch a glimpse of him. But nothing, he was to good for that. Instead she pulled into an alley once it was safe to do so and sat on her bike as she let it idle down then shut it off with a click. Before he could even do it she knew he’d come out of nowhere. She couldn’t find him (yet) but he’d find her if he wanted his questions answered, at least the ones she was willing too.
~~
From the shadows he emerged, half of him still shrouded in its darkness. The impression of his face and mask was made all the more sinister by the moonlight and the dim lamps that burned above. She still hadn't noticed him, her eyes watched the sky and not her back as she sat, irritated by his ultimatum. But perhaps she'd be more cooperative once she knew he had a tracker on the escapee. he already knew where he had gone and to whom.
"Are you ready to talk now?" Bruce asked, breaking the delicate silence like a hammer through glass. He emerged from the shadows completely, and now stood beside her bike. "The one I let go. I put a trace on him. I know where they are." he added bluntly, if they were to bargain like this, he had to show his hand to gain the answers he sought.
"Tell me what you call yourself". It wasn't a question. He regarded her with the same cool expression he had back at the warehouse. It seemed nothing rattled him, but then, he'd been involved in more than one clandestine meeting in the last two years. He hadn't asked her name, he knew she wouldn't give it and ultimately it mattered little.
"it's not the mob you chase" Bruce told her, circling her, eyes seeing into her. "No. You're after one man. Why?" He had easily come to the conclusion, a vigilante looking to inflict as much damage as possible wouldn't have thought to chase the money and he had seen how her eyes watching desperately as the ranked gangster made his escape. Nothing missed his keen eyes, not even during a fight.
He was still skeptical that she lay on the same side of the line as he, but then, so did most police in this city. The ones that weren't on Punchinello's pay roll. It had been his man she watched flee with the money. That eliminated Vercetti. She had attacked the former far too viciously for it not to be personal.
"That's all I ask. That, and, once we're completed this business you get out of Gotham. Never come back". Apparently he felt there was room for only one masked crime fighter in this city that so desperately needed an even hand of justice. But Bruce trusted no one, save Alfred.
~~
She was used to being the one to do the sneaking, not the one to be snuck up on so even though he startled her she didn’t show it physically. She’d been taught to well. Mario and his father had been assassins before they’d been arrested. The Amaro family had worked for THE Don of Italy and no one else. They’d been important people but when the Italian police had started cracking down harder on the mafia they’d also been caught and tried for the murder of over thirty individuals. No amount of money was going to buy them out of their sentence. She missed Mario too. He’d been the big brother than Pinto had never had the opportunity to grow up to be.
“Depends on the questions.” She said back to him, continuing the line of being difficult to him. She wouldn’t cave under his pressure, she refused to because there were bigger things at stake here for her. Blood needed to be answered for the blood of her parents and her brother. The images that were burned into her mind at nine years old weren’t the kind of images that any child should ever have to be. She remembered it all too. The burn of the bullet and watching her mother gasping and gurgling blood as she suffocated on it. It was memories like that that gave her the determination she needed now.
“Huntress.” She answered with no hesitation. It was what Mario had called her and it had stuck.
She’d slid off her bike while they talked so as he started to circle she turned with him, keeping her eyes on him, studying the way he moved or rather prowled. “They took things from me. One of those things I want back, the other I want them to pay for.”
Giving him a little shrug she held her gloved hands out to her sides slightly. “Once I’ve finished this business I have no reason to this suit back on. I’ll go on living my life and no one will be none the wiser. I want to see justice for the people that have bought their way out of it for too many years. That’s all.” Then she smirked slightly. “Why so gun ho to run me out of town? Afraid of a little competition or of a woman?”
~~
He gave a humorless chuckle at her assumptions. His eyes narrowed slightly. She wouldn't understand even if he did tell her. But Huntress had asked and he'd give her the answer, knowing she wouldn't like it.
"Huntress?" Bruce said as though weighing the name. The Huntress had become the Huntee. The irritation wasn't in her voice, ti was in her body language. He could tell she could fight and well at that. The way she stood, looking casual to the unsuspecting, He could see where her muscles had tightened, like he had been back at the warehouse. giving an air of affable confidence to disguise a deadly fighter ready to attack.
"No." His voice was cool, words blunt, he didn't seem to be one who beat around the bush, nor one to lie. "Because. You've made this personal. When it gets personal, you get reckless, you put innocent lives at risk and there are already a precious few too many in Gotham."
Bruce knew better. You didn't simply go on living your life after putting on the costume, feeling the adrenaline. She was lithe, acrobatic, strong, well trained. That much was also clear and the only reason he had even considered conceding and allowing her to operate along side him. Though she clearly didn't favor that overly much. Neither did Bruce.
"Which is why we're doing it my way. And not yours." his voice deadpan tone had changed, there was a slight hint of real feeling,m of real passion there, though it ebbed away as he shook his head.
"For now we're stuck with each other. And..." Though he hadn't moved a car pulled to the a stop at the end of the alley, all black and stylized with jagged wings flanking the rear end. "I'm driving."
~~
She narrowed her eyes slightly thought not out of malice, but out of thought, contemplating what he said, how he said it and what else he could have meant by it. She didn’t take things for face value. People rarely said exactly what they were thinking. She wasn’t excluded from that either. So was life though, hiding behind masks and words.
“Fair enough and true enough but you have my word that I will do anything in my power to make sure that no innocent people are hurt. That’s not my goal here. But I can deal with a guardian Bat if you’re willing to help me. Seems like it benefits both of us. Gets a corrupt mobster off the streets and you get the joy of working with charming old me for a short time.”
She wanted to believe that when this was all over she could stop and put all this behind her. All she wanted was to see the people who had slaughtered her family behind bars or dead. Then she could move on with her life and maybe move on from the nightmares that had plagued her all her life. She needed to put these ghosts to rest, they needed justice. They needed blood.
She glanced at the car as it pulled up and arched a brow then looked back at him. “Really? Fins? What is this Fast and the Furious Gotham style?” She smirked as she stepped closer to the car to get a better look at it. When he opened the top and nodded for her to get in she slid into the passenger seat easily.
“So you have a tracker on the man that took off with the money. Where did he go?”
~~
"642 Montrose, Punchinello manor. " Bruce ignored the jibe and got in the driver side. The interior was filled with an array of different buttons and controls, it seemed there wasn't a space anywhere that wasn't taken up by one gadget or another. He seemed willing to take her at her word though he didn't express it. The truth was he didn't truly need the tracker to know where he was going, Bruce had marked him weeks ago as a Punchinello Underboss. But why deal with his boss's nemesis the Vercetti family? To them it would be treason. Bruce needed answers of her own.
He looked at her as he pulled away from the curb speeding down the narrow streets of Gotham towards the ritzy neighbourhood where the underworld king resided in a palatial mansion. Perhaps the same her fiance was staying in while in town.
"The name ring a bell?" he asked, watching her face, the eyes, the windows to the soul. The buildings were tall, massed together in a solid concrete line blotting out the moon as they drove deeper into Gotham. A silence fell between them for a time and Bruce seemed perfectly comfortable with it, he seemed like he was all business all the night, it was hard not to wonder who he became when it took off the mask.
Secretly, as Bruce Wayne, he was becoming connected to the Don's son, using him t observe the comings and goings of important men in their organization. I twas through this he was able to pick out the underboss amongst the other and where he would go next. The tracer had simply been insurance.
When they some distance from the house he brought the car to a halt in a darkened alley and the roof slid open. Bruce slid out and began a stealthy, crouched run towards the high walls of Punchinello manor. the pair came to the wall, near ten feet of solid brick, its gates thick steel wrought metal. Bruce pushed his back against it, taking the chance to glance over at his begrudging ally.
"Up and over. Stay low. Punchinello will have guards on the grounds." without waiting for a response he jumped nimbly up and grabbed the lip of the top of the wall, pulling himself over with a practiced ease, landing lightly on his feet on the other side.
~~
She looked over at him sharply as he said the Punchinello name. She kept her face unreadable, mainly because she wasn’t sure what to think of that. Instead she turned to look out the window, watching the buildings go by. Had the other family been buying or selling the drugs? How were they involved? Did Travis know about this? A lot of questions went through her head all in a rush but she kept her cool, kept her face as neutral as possible.
“I’ve heard of it.” She answered, giving him only the reflection of her eyes to watch as she ignored the gadgets inside the car that would have otherwise fascinated her. Now she was worried. This wasn’t the information she’d guessed that she would get. Would it detour her? No, she wouldn’t let it, not even for Travis. Something were more important that love. Family over all else. Blood screams for blood.
When he pulled the car up to stop and the hood slid back she got out of the car. Her cape fluttered around her as his did, a purple shadow to his black as she followed along with him. She stopped him before he could go over the wall and pulled her wrist up to check the time then looked up thinking. “There’s a guard change in two minutes and there will be a short window with no patrols.” If he gave her a look of how she knew she shrugged. “I’ve been watching them for a while. They own some businesses I was interested in.”
When the two minutes had passed she jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall with him, pulling herself over with little effort, landing with two soft thuds on the grass on the other side. <i>Don’t be here Travis. Please don’t be here.</i> she thought to herself.
~~
The pair skirted the perimeter wall, lost in its shadows, when the Manor lay directly infront of them they would both dodge to tree, statue, and whatever else cluttered the lawn to hide them from sight. Finally they reached the side of the house, their backs pressed against it, Bruce peeked around he corner spying two guards standing on the front steps. They were standing chatting casually, one was smoking a cigarette. He turned to look at Huntress.
"We make our own door." He said simply, getting his grappling hook out once more., holdin git in his hand while the other retrieved a small metallic tube. Bruce held it up and the small tube extended up to the second floor, a small camera at its tip peering inside. The room was empty, a spare bedroom that looked unoccupied. not many visitors Bruce concluded, retracting the tube and raising the grappling hook. He held out an arm to Huntress.
"Hold on to me." Helena came into hi arm, clutching herself against him while his arm held her fast against him. The grappling hook shot up with a soft sound and grappled onto the balcony that lay off the side. They simultaneously pulled themselves over the lip of the bannister around the balcony and moved to the door, Bruce tried the handle but it wouldn't turn. The doors were glass, probably alarmed.
He crouched by the glass drawing another do-dad from his belt, this one looked like a thin pen. He put it to the glass and a thin laser shot from its tip cutting the glass in a small circle. he reached in through the hole it made and unlocked the door, pushing it open into the empty room.
"I need to find something that connects Punchinello to Vercetti. I'm hard pressed to believe his underboss would jump ship. for a little money and some cocain." He knew her goals were different than his own, he suspected what they were but he didn't voice them. Revenge was a complicated thing, one that could over come you, possess you like an angry spirit. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
"Punchinello's office is at the end of the hall." His eyes darted to her as she moved about the room. "We'll cover more ground if we split up. Here -" Bruce tossed her a small device, a speaker with a single button. "it's a two way, secure. I'm the only one who will hear what you say into it." explanations finished he tried the door and found it open, he pulled it open, the hall was unlit, save for the light coming out from under the closed door at the end of the hall. The office.
"Make a distraction down stairs, draw Punchinello out so I can get in and look around. I only need five minutes. We meet at the wall where he jumped over." Bruce disappeared into the hall, swallowed by the shadows.
~~
She knew this house to well from the last few weeks that she’d been staying there. She was almost worried about giving that away and him figuring out who she was. If she suspected right, he’d been watching this place for a long time, long enough to know the ins and outs too. So she stayed silent and followed after him. When he grappled up to the second floor she wrapped one arm around his neck, the other around his side to steady herself with his around her waist. He was strong, his armor plated to stop bullets too. It was good work… and she was impossibly close to his lips. He had to have a lucky girlfriend somewhere that got to kiss those.
Stepping onto the balcony she leaned against the wall, looking down at the guards passing under them as they started their patrol up again. When he got the door open she stepped inside. She recognized the room. She’d stayed in this one the first few days she’d been back. It was strange to be coming in here like this. She didn’t like it, and the implications of the why she was doing this less.
She wanted to see what Sal had in his office tonight but she could do that another night. Instead she just nodded to him, lips pressed thin as she took the two way from him and slipped it into a pouch on her belt. “Give me about three minutes and I’ll have the house clear.”
She slipped away from him and back out the balcony but she didn’t go down she went up to the roof and worked her way across to the garage. She knew the line of cars that would be inside and slipped down, unlocking the door from the hide away key she knew about. The camara in the garage was over the door pointed out across all the cars to see who would go in and out of them but she didn’t need to get to the cars. Instead she lay on her stomach, shooting across the ground to put a bolt into a tire of each car. When she finished she slipped back out, locking the door and slid between patrols to the wall just as the tires started screaming and dragging the guards and Sal out of his office to see what the problem was.
~~
Bruce waited in the darkness of the wide hall, pressed against a wall. he heard a phone from within the office ring and a moment later Sal was rushing out his door. Bruce slipped inside. This was his inner sanctum, the one place that was supposed to be impossible to reach. Bruce moved quickly to the desk and spotted his cell phone. He picke dit up and went to the call log, entry after entry, there were dozens of calls going in and out from a person labelled "T.V."
Tommy Vercetti? he asked himself, brow wrinkling beneath his cowl as he committed the number to memory. Couldn't be. But it was a terribly awful coincidence and what was it pointing to? Peace between warring factions, cooperation between Italian mob families. This could only mean trouble for Gotham, the implications were impossible to cast conjecture on but he knew he had to stop it somehow. But he needed more.
He rooted through the drawers finding nothing of consequences until he touched what felt like a small book, he pulled it out. The book was bound in black leather, the page thin edge were made to look gold, the face of the paper white and watermarked with the name Punchinello. He flipped it open to a random page, fingers scanning down to the page as he read. It was coded, he'd have to return to the lair with it to break it. There wasn't enough time to do it on the fly, if he even could.
His head snapped up, he heard foot steps approaching and loud cursing. Bruce pocketed the book in his belt and went to the window that sat behind the desk and looked out over the manor grounds. he unlatched the lock and the window and it swung open, he lept into the night and landed easily below, beginning the short trek back to the wall they had scaled.
~~
She didn’t like this, not one bit. She wanted to pull out her cell phone and call Travis and demand to know what was going on but that would give her away if something was going on. Worse if they were somehow involved in… no, she couldn’t think that. It had to be the other family, the Vercetti’s. She remembered the name from when she was a child, she remembered they were up and coming in the world. They could have had her family remove to get that much closer to the top.
In Italy things had been much more black and white for her. It was them against her. And then she’d met Travis. She’d known who he was but he was different, he wasn’t like his father or the others. He wanted more from life than being in the Family. She loved that about him and wanted to see him go far, wanted to see what he could do with a real life and not the one she was sure his father intended for him.
She crossed the wall and leaned back against it on the side away from the house. Her head knocked against the brick once then twice. How was she going to get through the next day? Tomorrow night she had an engagement party with Travis. How was she going to walk into a room full of all those people, smile and pretend everything was fine. The same way she was doing this now. Worry about this wasn’t going to get her anywhere but sick. Mario would have been ashamed of her thinking like that.
By the time Batman dropped down from the wall next to her she’d pulled her thoughts back in order. She nodded for him to go first then followed after him. She didn’t speak until they got to the car. “What did you find?”
~~
"Nothing good." came the flat reply, it was clear something bothered him. He removed the book he had found and opened it to a random page, his heart caught in his throat as he read a note jotted down in red ink Helena Bertinelli and a number written next to it. He snapped it shut and put it away. Memories rushed back, three years previous when he'd been traveling in Italy. A long lost friend, they had recognized each other yet it had been years, a decade, since they had last spoken. The recognition was instant, they talked, and it turned to hours, night had come quickly as they slipped unnoticed. The sun had sank behind the mountains of Naples and passions ran. He shook the memory in his head, it was a bitter sweet one.
Finally Bruce composed himself.
"Evidence suggests that Vercetti and Punchinello are burying the hatched, forming an alliance. I checked his cell, there are calls going back and forth between him and someone labeled 'T.V.' - Tommy Vercetti." He shook his head slowly, all memories of Helena forgotten for now, just as they had been dredged up three years earlier. They were moments in time he didn't want to relive, how different life could have been.
"The book I found has the same initials and a time, an address deep in Vercetti territory. I can't think of any other reason for those two to meet" Bruce concluded pushing away from the wall, walking towards the street, the car was, once again, pulling a halt at the curb in front of them, roof sliding open.
"I'll drop you back at your bike. The meeting is set up in three days. Use the two way I gave you at night fall and I'll tell you where to go." he was getting into the car, Helena sliding into the passenger seat.
"And try to keep a low profile. They're going to be looking for you come tomorrow. Those men back at the warehouse know your costume. You've been surprisingly useful, try not to get killed. That was about as close to a compliment Batman had ever given anyone. Had she known him, she might even be flattered.
They took off down the street Back into the core of Gotham.
~~
T.V. T.V. She ran the monograms through her head trying to think if they matched any other names or nicknames she’d heard in passing the last few weeks. Unless Sal was planning on buying a tv at some shop on the wrong side of town Tommy Vercetti would be the only one that matched. She was frowning as they headed back toward the car.
When it pulled up she slid back into the passenger seat. “I don’t understand why after all these years the Punchinello’s and Verchtti’s would be trying to make peace. They’ve been at each other’s throat since the Bertinelli murders and the Punchinello’s beat them out in filling the power vacuum.”
“I’m missing something.” Though this was said more to herself than him.
His complement, backasses as they were made her look over at him with a dry glare. “I’ve been doing this for five years in other places tracking this information down. I know how to keep a low profile which you obviously missed the class on Mr. Flares.” But she smirked none the less as she slid out of the car. “Don’t miss me to much charmer. See you in a few days.” She tapped the dome as is closed and moved to her bike, starting it up and heading off in the other direction… and pausing to check for tracking devices before heading home.
Travis had changed all that though. He’d come brushing into her life like the usual hurried American and here they were three months layer back in his home town meeting his father. She knew he wanted to propose but his family was old fashion, she under stood that, she’d been raised in two old fashion families. The approval of a father meant a lot to a son and she knew Travis wanted his old mans.
Three did seem to be her lucky number lately too seeing as it had taken her three hours to get Travis to go home. She’d insisted on having her own place while they were in Gotham and at least keeping up appearances that they weren’t sleeping together. Plus she needed somewhere to hide all her research and the ‘other’ things she’d brought to the US form Italy with her. Her suit, and the gear that she’d gathered up were all waiting, tucked away in the back of her closet waiting for a night when she was alone.
She was tracking down the people who’d bought up the larger business that had once belonged to her father’s empire. Sal, Travis father, had once been her first guess as to who had done it but he owned only a few of the smaller businesses and nothing that turned over the kind of profit that people would have been interested in. Sal had his own money and while he had taken over as Don when the whole of the Bertinelli family had been wiped out, he’d just been the next in command. Whoever had orchestrated the hit that took out the family over four separate cities had to be higher up the food change.
Dressing in the dark of her apartment she pulled on the tight fighting leather suit and mask that she’d had made after her twenty first birthday by a military designer. She’s had a pair of crossbows made for her, pistol sized and a matching pair in honor of Mario who had taught her how to fight and fight back in Italy. He’d helped turn a broken child into a determined and strong woman.
She’d bought a motorcycle a week before and had it stashed nearby. Leaving her apartment through the fire escape she picked it up and headed into the city. Her first stop was near the docks, playing look out over some shipments coming in through one of her father’s old companies. She wanted to know what they were doing with it and exactly who they were. Names on paper didn’t always mean a damn with the mob.
~~
Loose debris skittered away under his booted feet as he landed nimbly on the lower laying building. An easy night's breeze picked at the fringe of his cape as he walked to the edge casting his gaze down below. There were four guards, none of them dock authorities. They'd been paid off, as was typical of this city; crime gutting it from the inside out at all levels of government and official offices. The same corruption committed by the men whom had killed his family. He'd killed one, spared the other. he hadn't been able to bring himself to take another life, not without becoming one of them. He hadn't since, the other murderer rotted in prison. And yet, it brought little consolation to the small boy that spent his youth with only an elderly butler to guide him.
One guard in the gate shack turning away possible interlopers, another operating a crane that was removing shipping boxes from the ship and two that walked the grounds ensuring all went to plan. Idly he wondered why they even bothered the police wouldn't come even if he had called them himself. Anger gripped his heart but he turned it to ice, encasing his heart, letting it grow cold.
He lifted a foot onto the edge of the building, a long drop, but nothing he hadn't attempted, he'd been about to step off the ledge when something caught his eye. Creeping down the street was a motorcycle, its headlights off and moving at a coast. he watched it pull to a stop about a block away and its rider creeping along the side of the building. Police? Unlikely. Reporter? maybe. Rival criminal? Probably. And yet, something about the rider made him doubt his analysis, something in the way he moved. No.. she. he corrected mentally as the rider passed right under him nonethewiser.
It was unlike the mafia to allow women into their ranks, old traditions died hard, Bruce supposed, his brow furrowed beneath the mask. In any case, it didn't matter, she was one of them, he'd simply have to take down five crooks instead of four.
He dropped from the edge.
Bruce landed behind the wire fence, sharp barbed wire arched outwards preventing anyone from scaling it, provided they didn't have a mediocum of intelligence. he crept along in the shadow of the building he'd stood on, shadow cast long in the shadow of the pale moon light as he flitted from dark place to dark place. He made his way tot he low lying roof of one of the warehouses and crept along it, moving on its spine until reaching a sky light. His eyes adjusted to the light within and he saw two groups of suits arguing over money, one suitcase sat open, piles of carefully stacked bills lining its inside. Another similar suitcase lay on the floor, the white contents of its plastic packages dashed about it, swirling gently in the drafty breeze of the warehouse.
Someone didn't like the merchandise. it was time to see if the customer was always right. Bruce turned back and looked to mark the rider but found she was no longer there, he'd looked away too long. Bruce cursed under his breath and turned back tot he window, he'd have to deal with her later. he unlatched his rocket propelled grappling hook, clutch it in his hand, formulating a plan of attack in his mind.
~~
Moving along the shadows wall she had the nagging feeling of being watched. She hated that feeling, like an itch between the shoulders that she couldn’t reach or brush away. She’d felt it most of her life but then again she’d had people watching her most of her life too. It was something that she was far too familiar with. No alarms were going off though so she hadn’t been spotted… had she?
Shaking off the feeling she continued moving along the edge of the building, staying out of the light and in the darker shadows, the purple of her outfit making her blend in more. She paused for a long moment leaned against a wall as she eyed the building she needed to get too. She’d have to cross half the courtyard. The guard was busy, the crane operator was focusing on his work… Pushing off with both feet she took off running, across the lighted yard to the safely of shadows on the other side.
The door she paused near wasn’t locked as she wrapped her hand around the knob and tested it. She pulled it open half an inch to peer in finding the two men inside. She needed to see their faces to know who they were. Most likely made men, working for some higher boss but they’d be at a party eventually and she’d be able to finger the man they belonged too. Being a woman in the mafia was easy, smile, stick your tits out, cook and pop out babies. Thankfully Travis saw her as more than a pretty face or that would have ended faster than it started. But letting everyone else thing she was just another pretty face was fine, silly questions like who people were didn’t make them suspect anything.
Counting to three in her head she pulled the door open and stepped inside, letting it close behind her loud enough to get their attention. She was already running at the two men, a crossbow out and firing at the hand that was reaching for the gun at his hip, catching through his hand and leaving him screaming and staring at the bolt as she came up to the other with a round house to the face from a thick steal toed boot.
~~
Bruce heard foot steps pounding on the pavement from his place on the roof. The guards were preoccupied, they hadn't even noticed. Some help they were, he thought ruefully. She had reached the door and the arch of the roof over the door blocked her from sight but he had heard the slam of the door shutting. His eyes flicked back to the skylight where the rider was already sprinting across the room simultaneously pointing, aiming and firing dual crossbows, both hitting their marks. Impressive the thought, but who was she? So deranged mafia assassin, no doubt... But whose? She had fired at both the Vercetti family and the Punchinellos. A third player? He'd find the answers soon enough. Bruce stood to his full height and took a short two steps lead before smashing through the skylight, glittering shards of glass raining down on all of them. He landed on the table with a thunk, one hand reaching back and, then forward releasing two batarangs, slicing through the air they both hit separate men, the weapon buzzing sharply as electricity coursed through their bodies until they collapsed convulsing. He didn't stay long enough to see the effect, however, he was already bounding off the table, glass crunching beneath him.
A goon from one family - he couldn't tell which - lunched with a knife, sloppy he critiqued mentally, catching his fore arms and bending it against the elbow joint, a sick snap followed by a scream of pain echoed off the cavernous warehouse. Bruce planted a foot and kicked the gangster to the ground, his good arm clutching the other in agony, it hung uselessly at his side.
Other men were ushering the highest ranked members out the back door while the remainder stayed to stall the "two masked freaks" as they called them. Bruce was already engaging another before realizing the rider was fighting next to him, his sideward glance noted the strange outfit, sardonically he asked himself whether it was any more or less so than his own. Block, parry, disable, the process repeated. The two middle management gangster had escaped but those that weren't dead from Huntress's hand or unconscious from Batman's were fleeing in the wake of sirens. This hardly seemed to fill the black garbed Batman with any urgency. He bent over and picked up the gangster whose arm he had broken by the collar, holding him to his face, a scowl wrapped maliciously on his lips
"Tell your boss I'm coming for him." Bruce threatened in a gravel voice as he dropped the gangster to the ground, he scrabbled to his feet and began a haphazard, stumbling run walk out of the warehouse. Bruce watched him go before turning to the black and purple rider
"This is my city." He said in even tones, his eyes regarding her from beneath the cowl, his cape closed around his torso. "Who do you work for?"
Anyone who was anyone in the Gotham underground knew Batman, the man whom had mysteriously appeared two years previous causing no end of chaos and frustration to the criminal elements that infested the city like rats. The sirens were growing in a crescendo and still he seemed unconcerned. Penetrating eyes still regarding her with no small amount of scorn.
~~
The moment she started moving to take the men down she felt alive again. Some small part of her felt like she was back in Italy training with Mario but this wasn’t training and those were real guns with real bullets. She took no chances. She wasn’t killing anyone but they weren’t getting up any time soon. She just needed their faces then she wanted them crawling back to their bosses so she knew who belonged to who. And drugs, dealing in drugs, her father would have been ashamed of what his empire had turned into.
The crash of glass made her glanced up for a moment then look away, lifting her own cap to shield her from the shards that rained down before tossing it back and moving back into the fight. She was hell on two legs as she moved in beside the other mask. Who knew the big bad Batman would show up on the first night she started hunting in Gotham. Fate? Or was she screwed? Either way it made her heart pound with excitement. She didn’t let it show though as she confronted the goons that rushed in to stall them.
She grabbed one man, cracking his face into her knee, leaving his face in a wash of blood as she dropped him to the floor, his gun in her hand though with a flick she dropped the clip out of it and had it in two other pieces, both being thrown at the next guy in front of her. He was dispatched with a kick to the chest that broke most of his ribs and another to the face that left him out cold on the pavement.
Wheeling around the only person left standing now was Batman. She stood ready, light on her feet and legs slightly apart, ready for a fight if he was going to come at her. The line of his mouth made him look angry. He sent the last conscious man running for his life but that didn’t make her settle down any.
His warning made her smirk a little, a pull of the corner of her mouth that made one dimple show. “And you can keep your city. I just want the mob. AS for who I work for,” She shrugged. “A ghost, a long forgotten one.”
~~
He usually struck fear into the hearts of those whom crossed his path, but she was doing a good job of pretending not to be. He saw through her. Bruce didn't move, listened as she spoke, still, like a cat waiting to pounce. Beneath the cape concealing his body every muscle was taut and ready.
"I'm already after them." he said coldly, as though her services were that of a plumber and no long needed. "You'll only get in the way." despite the rather bloody mess she made. Something on his arm began to beep and he brought it from the depths of his cape watching a small blip move across a green screen. He had planted a tracking bug when he picked the gangster up, his methods slightly more sophisticated than simply following them and hoping they didn't see you.
In any case she had a flare for the dramatics. A ghost indeed Bruce thought caustically. She seemed to have no intent on making the first move and he wasn't itching for another fight. His eyes shifted sideward at the police lights flickering through the windows as the spun. He had to make up his mind quickly, shouts were already filling the air. As though second guessing himself, after a moment's hesitation, he spoke.
"If you want to find them, you'll have to follow me. the only way that is happening... is if you answer my questions.all of them." Bruce said firmly, as Huntress looked down to think on it, Bruce was holding his hand upward, the grappling hook shooting up and latching onto the frame of the broken skylight, reeling him up to it quickly. If she chose to come, Helena would have to use more mundane means of getting there.
~~
Her heart was still pounding from the fight and being so close to the one person that made the mob shit their pants on a nightly bases. It was a rush to fight beside him, to stand staring at him. Part of her wondered if he’d attack her too and a part of her hopped he would so she could test herself against a real fight. Anything less than four men and she was bored these days. She needed more challenges.
“You’re getting in my way. I know the mob better than you do. When I find who I’m looking for you can have the rest of them. I don’t care.” She had a classic Gotham accent at least, no hint of the Italian one she usually spoke when she wasn’t behind the mask. She figured it would help keep her identity secret a little longer and hopefully completely. She really did care about Travis. Having to leave him because half the mom was after her wasn’t exactly the best way to say ‘I love you.’
Hr eyes flicked to the windows too, catching the red and blue flashes and the soon after yells from the cops that were getting to the scene. This wouldn’t do either. Getting arrested would slow her down though she figured that Sal could by her way out if push came to shove. Still, he’d want to know what she was doing there and she wouldn’t have an answer for him.
She glared at him with narrowed eyes as he made the offer and demand then took off. She should have left completely, shaken him off her path and gone home but she couldn’t do that, not if he had some answers she could use. She turned and slipped through the warehouse out a back door and followed the fence line to the water front. Slipping around it she was gone, circling around to pick up her bike get away from the cops. She’d done this in Italy more than a few times, trying to get information out of the men there. One of those men was dead and he was the one that pointed her toward Gotham. He’d told her to follow the money if she was so smart.
Leaving the flashing lights in the distance she headed deeper into the city, glancing up as if she might catch a glimpse of him. But nothing, he was to good for that. Instead she pulled into an alley once it was safe to do so and sat on her bike as she let it idle down then shut it off with a click. Before he could even do it she knew he’d come out of nowhere. She couldn’t find him (yet) but he’d find her if he wanted his questions answered, at least the ones she was willing too.
~~
From the shadows he emerged, half of him still shrouded in its darkness. The impression of his face and mask was made all the more sinister by the moonlight and the dim lamps that burned above. She still hadn't noticed him, her eyes watched the sky and not her back as she sat, irritated by his ultimatum. But perhaps she'd be more cooperative once she knew he had a tracker on the escapee. he already knew where he had gone and to whom.
"Are you ready to talk now?" Bruce asked, breaking the delicate silence like a hammer through glass. He emerged from the shadows completely, and now stood beside her bike. "The one I let go. I put a trace on him. I know where they are." he added bluntly, if they were to bargain like this, he had to show his hand to gain the answers he sought.
"Tell me what you call yourself". It wasn't a question. He regarded her with the same cool expression he had back at the warehouse. It seemed nothing rattled him, but then, he'd been involved in more than one clandestine meeting in the last two years. He hadn't asked her name, he knew she wouldn't give it and ultimately it mattered little.
"it's not the mob you chase" Bruce told her, circling her, eyes seeing into her. "No. You're after one man. Why?" He had easily come to the conclusion, a vigilante looking to inflict as much damage as possible wouldn't have thought to chase the money and he had seen how her eyes watching desperately as the ranked gangster made his escape. Nothing missed his keen eyes, not even during a fight.
He was still skeptical that she lay on the same side of the line as he, but then, so did most police in this city. The ones that weren't on Punchinello's pay roll. It had been his man she watched flee with the money. That eliminated Vercetti. She had attacked the former far too viciously for it not to be personal.
"That's all I ask. That, and, once we're completed this business you get out of Gotham. Never come back". Apparently he felt there was room for only one masked crime fighter in this city that so desperately needed an even hand of justice. But Bruce trusted no one, save Alfred.
~~
She was used to being the one to do the sneaking, not the one to be snuck up on so even though he startled her she didn’t show it physically. She’d been taught to well. Mario and his father had been assassins before they’d been arrested. The Amaro family had worked for THE Don of Italy and no one else. They’d been important people but when the Italian police had started cracking down harder on the mafia they’d also been caught and tried for the murder of over thirty individuals. No amount of money was going to buy them out of their sentence. She missed Mario too. He’d been the big brother than Pinto had never had the opportunity to grow up to be.
“Depends on the questions.” She said back to him, continuing the line of being difficult to him. She wouldn’t cave under his pressure, she refused to because there were bigger things at stake here for her. Blood needed to be answered for the blood of her parents and her brother. The images that were burned into her mind at nine years old weren’t the kind of images that any child should ever have to be. She remembered it all too. The burn of the bullet and watching her mother gasping and gurgling blood as she suffocated on it. It was memories like that that gave her the determination she needed now.
“Huntress.” She answered with no hesitation. It was what Mario had called her and it had stuck.
She’d slid off her bike while they talked so as he started to circle she turned with him, keeping her eyes on him, studying the way he moved or rather prowled. “They took things from me. One of those things I want back, the other I want them to pay for.”
Giving him a little shrug she held her gloved hands out to her sides slightly. “Once I’ve finished this business I have no reason to this suit back on. I’ll go on living my life and no one will be none the wiser. I want to see justice for the people that have bought their way out of it for too many years. That’s all.” Then she smirked slightly. “Why so gun ho to run me out of town? Afraid of a little competition or of a woman?”
~~
He gave a humorless chuckle at her assumptions. His eyes narrowed slightly. She wouldn't understand even if he did tell her. But Huntress had asked and he'd give her the answer, knowing she wouldn't like it.
"Huntress?" Bruce said as though weighing the name. The Huntress had become the Huntee. The irritation wasn't in her voice, ti was in her body language. He could tell she could fight and well at that. The way she stood, looking casual to the unsuspecting, He could see where her muscles had tightened, like he had been back at the warehouse. giving an air of affable confidence to disguise a deadly fighter ready to attack.
"No." His voice was cool, words blunt, he didn't seem to be one who beat around the bush, nor one to lie. "Because. You've made this personal. When it gets personal, you get reckless, you put innocent lives at risk and there are already a precious few too many in Gotham."
Bruce knew better. You didn't simply go on living your life after putting on the costume, feeling the adrenaline. She was lithe, acrobatic, strong, well trained. That much was also clear and the only reason he had even considered conceding and allowing her to operate along side him. Though she clearly didn't favor that overly much. Neither did Bruce.
"Which is why we're doing it my way. And not yours." his voice deadpan tone had changed, there was a slight hint of real feeling,m of real passion there, though it ebbed away as he shook his head.
"For now we're stuck with each other. And..." Though he hadn't moved a car pulled to the a stop at the end of the alley, all black and stylized with jagged wings flanking the rear end. "I'm driving."
~~
She narrowed her eyes slightly thought not out of malice, but out of thought, contemplating what he said, how he said it and what else he could have meant by it. She didn’t take things for face value. People rarely said exactly what they were thinking. She wasn’t excluded from that either. So was life though, hiding behind masks and words.
“Fair enough and true enough but you have my word that I will do anything in my power to make sure that no innocent people are hurt. That’s not my goal here. But I can deal with a guardian Bat if you’re willing to help me. Seems like it benefits both of us. Gets a corrupt mobster off the streets and you get the joy of working with charming old me for a short time.”
She wanted to believe that when this was all over she could stop and put all this behind her. All she wanted was to see the people who had slaughtered her family behind bars or dead. Then she could move on with her life and maybe move on from the nightmares that had plagued her all her life. She needed to put these ghosts to rest, they needed justice. They needed blood.
She glanced at the car as it pulled up and arched a brow then looked back at him. “Really? Fins? What is this Fast and the Furious Gotham style?” She smirked as she stepped closer to the car to get a better look at it. When he opened the top and nodded for her to get in she slid into the passenger seat easily.
“So you have a tracker on the man that took off with the money. Where did he go?”
~~
"642 Montrose, Punchinello manor. " Bruce ignored the jibe and got in the driver side. The interior was filled with an array of different buttons and controls, it seemed there wasn't a space anywhere that wasn't taken up by one gadget or another. He seemed willing to take her at her word though he didn't express it. The truth was he didn't truly need the tracker to know where he was going, Bruce had marked him weeks ago as a Punchinello Underboss. But why deal with his boss's nemesis the Vercetti family? To them it would be treason. Bruce needed answers of her own.
He looked at her as he pulled away from the curb speeding down the narrow streets of Gotham towards the ritzy neighbourhood where the underworld king resided in a palatial mansion. Perhaps the same her fiance was staying in while in town.
"The name ring a bell?" he asked, watching her face, the eyes, the windows to the soul. The buildings were tall, massed together in a solid concrete line blotting out the moon as they drove deeper into Gotham. A silence fell between them for a time and Bruce seemed perfectly comfortable with it, he seemed like he was all business all the night, it was hard not to wonder who he became when it took off the mask.
Secretly, as Bruce Wayne, he was becoming connected to the Don's son, using him t observe the comings and goings of important men in their organization. I twas through this he was able to pick out the underboss amongst the other and where he would go next. The tracer had simply been insurance.
When they some distance from the house he brought the car to a halt in a darkened alley and the roof slid open. Bruce slid out and began a stealthy, crouched run towards the high walls of Punchinello manor. the pair came to the wall, near ten feet of solid brick, its gates thick steel wrought metal. Bruce pushed his back against it, taking the chance to glance over at his begrudging ally.
"Up and over. Stay low. Punchinello will have guards on the grounds." without waiting for a response he jumped nimbly up and grabbed the lip of the top of the wall, pulling himself over with a practiced ease, landing lightly on his feet on the other side.
~~
She looked over at him sharply as he said the Punchinello name. She kept her face unreadable, mainly because she wasn’t sure what to think of that. Instead she turned to look out the window, watching the buildings go by. Had the other family been buying or selling the drugs? How were they involved? Did Travis know about this? A lot of questions went through her head all in a rush but she kept her cool, kept her face as neutral as possible.
“I’ve heard of it.” She answered, giving him only the reflection of her eyes to watch as she ignored the gadgets inside the car that would have otherwise fascinated her. Now she was worried. This wasn’t the information she’d guessed that she would get. Would it detour her? No, she wouldn’t let it, not even for Travis. Something were more important that love. Family over all else. Blood screams for blood.
When he pulled the car up to stop and the hood slid back she got out of the car. Her cape fluttered around her as his did, a purple shadow to his black as she followed along with him. She stopped him before he could go over the wall and pulled her wrist up to check the time then looked up thinking. “There’s a guard change in two minutes and there will be a short window with no patrols.” If he gave her a look of how she knew she shrugged. “I’ve been watching them for a while. They own some businesses I was interested in.”
When the two minutes had passed she jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall with him, pulling herself over with little effort, landing with two soft thuds on the grass on the other side. <i>Don’t be here Travis. Please don’t be here.</i> she thought to herself.
~~
The pair skirted the perimeter wall, lost in its shadows, when the Manor lay directly infront of them they would both dodge to tree, statue, and whatever else cluttered the lawn to hide them from sight. Finally they reached the side of the house, their backs pressed against it, Bruce peeked around he corner spying two guards standing on the front steps. They were standing chatting casually, one was smoking a cigarette. He turned to look at Huntress.
"We make our own door." He said simply, getting his grappling hook out once more., holdin git in his hand while the other retrieved a small metallic tube. Bruce held it up and the small tube extended up to the second floor, a small camera at its tip peering inside. The room was empty, a spare bedroom that looked unoccupied. not many visitors Bruce concluded, retracting the tube and raising the grappling hook. He held out an arm to Huntress.
"Hold on to me." Helena came into hi arm, clutching herself against him while his arm held her fast against him. The grappling hook shot up with a soft sound and grappled onto the balcony that lay off the side. They simultaneously pulled themselves over the lip of the bannister around the balcony and moved to the door, Bruce tried the handle but it wouldn't turn. The doors were glass, probably alarmed.
He crouched by the glass drawing another do-dad from his belt, this one looked like a thin pen. He put it to the glass and a thin laser shot from its tip cutting the glass in a small circle. he reached in through the hole it made and unlocked the door, pushing it open into the empty room.
"I need to find something that connects Punchinello to Vercetti. I'm hard pressed to believe his underboss would jump ship. for a little money and some cocain." He knew her goals were different than his own, he suspected what they were but he didn't voice them. Revenge was a complicated thing, one that could over come you, possess you like an angry spirit. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
"Punchinello's office is at the end of the hall." His eyes darted to her as she moved about the room. "We'll cover more ground if we split up. Here -" Bruce tossed her a small device, a speaker with a single button. "it's a two way, secure. I'm the only one who will hear what you say into it." explanations finished he tried the door and found it open, he pulled it open, the hall was unlit, save for the light coming out from under the closed door at the end of the hall. The office.
"Make a distraction down stairs, draw Punchinello out so I can get in and look around. I only need five minutes. We meet at the wall where he jumped over." Bruce disappeared into the hall, swallowed by the shadows.
~~
She knew this house to well from the last few weeks that she’d been staying there. She was almost worried about giving that away and him figuring out who she was. If she suspected right, he’d been watching this place for a long time, long enough to know the ins and outs too. So she stayed silent and followed after him. When he grappled up to the second floor she wrapped one arm around his neck, the other around his side to steady herself with his around her waist. He was strong, his armor plated to stop bullets too. It was good work… and she was impossibly close to his lips. He had to have a lucky girlfriend somewhere that got to kiss those.
Stepping onto the balcony she leaned against the wall, looking down at the guards passing under them as they started their patrol up again. When he got the door open she stepped inside. She recognized the room. She’d stayed in this one the first few days she’d been back. It was strange to be coming in here like this. She didn’t like it, and the implications of the why she was doing this less.
She wanted to see what Sal had in his office tonight but she could do that another night. Instead she just nodded to him, lips pressed thin as she took the two way from him and slipped it into a pouch on her belt. “Give me about three minutes and I’ll have the house clear.”
She slipped away from him and back out the balcony but she didn’t go down she went up to the roof and worked her way across to the garage. She knew the line of cars that would be inside and slipped down, unlocking the door from the hide away key she knew about. The camara in the garage was over the door pointed out across all the cars to see who would go in and out of them but she didn’t need to get to the cars. Instead she lay on her stomach, shooting across the ground to put a bolt into a tire of each car. When she finished she slipped back out, locking the door and slid between patrols to the wall just as the tires started screaming and dragging the guards and Sal out of his office to see what the problem was.
~~
Bruce waited in the darkness of the wide hall, pressed against a wall. he heard a phone from within the office ring and a moment later Sal was rushing out his door. Bruce slipped inside. This was his inner sanctum, the one place that was supposed to be impossible to reach. Bruce moved quickly to the desk and spotted his cell phone. He picke dit up and went to the call log, entry after entry, there were dozens of calls going in and out from a person labelled "T.V."
Tommy Vercetti? he asked himself, brow wrinkling beneath his cowl as he committed the number to memory. Couldn't be. But it was a terribly awful coincidence and what was it pointing to? Peace between warring factions, cooperation between Italian mob families. This could only mean trouble for Gotham, the implications were impossible to cast conjecture on but he knew he had to stop it somehow. But he needed more.
He rooted through the drawers finding nothing of consequences until he touched what felt like a small book, he pulled it out. The book was bound in black leather, the page thin edge were made to look gold, the face of the paper white and watermarked with the name Punchinello. He flipped it open to a random page, fingers scanning down to the page as he read. It was coded, he'd have to return to the lair with it to break it. There wasn't enough time to do it on the fly, if he even could.
His head snapped up, he heard foot steps approaching and loud cursing. Bruce pocketed the book in his belt and went to the window that sat behind the desk and looked out over the manor grounds. he unlatched the lock and the window and it swung open, he lept into the night and landed easily below, beginning the short trek back to the wall they had scaled.
~~
She didn’t like this, not one bit. She wanted to pull out her cell phone and call Travis and demand to know what was going on but that would give her away if something was going on. Worse if they were somehow involved in… no, she couldn’t think that. It had to be the other family, the Vercetti’s. She remembered the name from when she was a child, she remembered they were up and coming in the world. They could have had her family remove to get that much closer to the top.
In Italy things had been much more black and white for her. It was them against her. And then she’d met Travis. She’d known who he was but he was different, he wasn’t like his father or the others. He wanted more from life than being in the Family. She loved that about him and wanted to see him go far, wanted to see what he could do with a real life and not the one she was sure his father intended for him.
She crossed the wall and leaned back against it on the side away from the house. Her head knocked against the brick once then twice. How was she going to get through the next day? Tomorrow night she had an engagement party with Travis. How was she going to walk into a room full of all those people, smile and pretend everything was fine. The same way she was doing this now. Worry about this wasn’t going to get her anywhere but sick. Mario would have been ashamed of her thinking like that.
By the time Batman dropped down from the wall next to her she’d pulled her thoughts back in order. She nodded for him to go first then followed after him. She didn’t speak until they got to the car. “What did you find?”
~~
"Nothing good." came the flat reply, it was clear something bothered him. He removed the book he had found and opened it to a random page, his heart caught in his throat as he read a note jotted down in red ink Helena Bertinelli and a number written next to it. He snapped it shut and put it away. Memories rushed back, three years previous when he'd been traveling in Italy. A long lost friend, they had recognized each other yet it had been years, a decade, since they had last spoken. The recognition was instant, they talked, and it turned to hours, night had come quickly as they slipped unnoticed. The sun had sank behind the mountains of Naples and passions ran. He shook the memory in his head, it was a bitter sweet one.
Finally Bruce composed himself.
"Evidence suggests that Vercetti and Punchinello are burying the hatched, forming an alliance. I checked his cell, there are calls going back and forth between him and someone labeled 'T.V.' - Tommy Vercetti." He shook his head slowly, all memories of Helena forgotten for now, just as they had been dredged up three years earlier. They were moments in time he didn't want to relive, how different life could have been.
"The book I found has the same initials and a time, an address deep in Vercetti territory. I can't think of any other reason for those two to meet" Bruce concluded pushing away from the wall, walking towards the street, the car was, once again, pulling a halt at the curb in front of them, roof sliding open.
"I'll drop you back at your bike. The meeting is set up in three days. Use the two way I gave you at night fall and I'll tell you where to go." he was getting into the car, Helena sliding into the passenger seat.
"And try to keep a low profile. They're going to be looking for you come tomorrow. Those men back at the warehouse know your costume. You've been surprisingly useful, try not to get killed. That was about as close to a compliment Batman had ever given anyone. Had she known him, she might even be flattered.
They took off down the street Back into the core of Gotham.
~~
T.V. T.V. She ran the monograms through her head trying to think if they matched any other names or nicknames she’d heard in passing the last few weeks. Unless Sal was planning on buying a tv at some shop on the wrong side of town Tommy Vercetti would be the only one that matched. She was frowning as they headed back toward the car.
When it pulled up she slid back into the passenger seat. “I don’t understand why after all these years the Punchinello’s and Verchtti’s would be trying to make peace. They’ve been at each other’s throat since the Bertinelli murders and the Punchinello’s beat them out in filling the power vacuum.”
“I’m missing something.” Though this was said more to herself than him.
His complement, backasses as they were made her look over at him with a dry glare. “I’ve been doing this for five years in other places tracking this information down. I know how to keep a low profile which you obviously missed the class on Mr. Flares.” But she smirked none the less as she slid out of the car. “Don’t miss me to much charmer. See you in a few days.” She tapped the dome as is closed and moved to her bike, starting it up and heading off in the other direction… and pausing to check for tracking devices before heading home.