Batman Arkham Knight (31 page)

Batman glanced at his gauntlet sensor; there was still only one red dot in the room. The Knight saw him do it, and laughed.

“Confused?” he said. “Once you know everything there is to know about Lucius and his toys, it’s easy to counter them.”

“Who
are
you?”

“You really have no idea, do you, Bruce?” the Knight said as he unlocked his mask and slid it open. Batman stared in stunned silence.

Jason Todd grinned.

“I’m thinking ‘surprise’ is more appropriate now, don’t you? And aren’t you happy? I mean, the Knight’s come out into daylight.”

Batman stared. It had been three years since he last saw him, but Jason was looking even older than that. He once had a ready laugh, but now, even though he was relishing the moment and enjoying Batman’s confusion, his laugh was grim and angry. There was no humor in his dark eyes.

“You’re staring at me crazy-like, Bruce. Don’t you want to say, ‘Jason, but you’re dead,’ or something else obvious?” The entire time he spoke, the gun never wavered.

The Joker moved closer to Batman, waving his hands in front of him to catch his attention.

“Let’s not have a falling out here, Bats. I might have told you a teeny tiny little lie. But c’mon. Look at the boy. He’s alive. Isn’t that a kick in the
cojones
?”

He moved to the Arkham Knight and grinned. “You did good, boy. We did good. You should be proud.” He then turned to Batman and laughed. “You know, Bats, if I were you—and I will be soon enough—about now I’d be trying to decide if the Todd is another hallucination or not. Hint, he’s the real deal.”

“I don’t care what I’m seeing now,” Batman said. “If Jason Todd was alive, he wouldn’t have waited three years to tell me.”

Jason took another step closer to Batman. “It has been three years, hasn’t it, Bruce. Three years during which that monster tortured me. Lied to me, twisted around all my thoughts until I didn’t know what was right any more.

“Three… goddam… years.”

The Joker nodded to Batman. “The boy’s right. I did it. Me. And mea culpa. I dug into his gray matter and stirred it all up until Toddy made me look almost sane. But on the bright side, screwing around with his little-kid brain was the happiest I’d been in a long, long time.”

Jason stepped closer.

“So tell me, Bruce, did you even bother to check if the world’s biggest liar had actually lied to you about my death, or did you shrug your shoulders and say, ‘I need a new Robin. Who’s next in line?’”

None of this is real. It can’t be.
Batman stared at Jason, remembering what he once looked like, but the man standing in front of him looked so very, very different.
You can’t be here. None of this is possible. You’re Joker blood mixed with the Scarecrow’s toxins.

“No, he’s not, Bats,” the Joker said, laughing. “Look at the boy. As we’ve said before, if you prick him, will he not bleed? If you tickle him, would he not laugh? If you wrong him, does he not seek revenge? And if you bash in his head, will he not die? Ummm. Actually, I guess the answer to that last one may be ‘no’.”

“What’s the matter?” Jason said. “Lost for words? I expected more. I’m hurt.”

“The Joker sent me the film. I saw him kill you.”

Jason held his gun on Batman as he moved closer, putting his cowl back into place. “I know what you saw, and that’s how I learned how little I meant to you. How long did you wait before replacing me with Timmy boy? A month? A week? I trusted you, and you just left me to die.”

“That’s not what happened, Jason.”

Jason pushed the gun into Batman’s chin.

“You always told me… focus on what I want to achieve and it will happen. Well, Bruce, I want you dead.”

Batman nodded and allowed himself a brief smile. Then he slammed his head hard into Jason’s face, shattering his mask and cowl.

* * *

Jason staggered back and gasped in pain and shock. He closed his eyes for a moment to regain control, but when he opened them, Batman was gone.

“Coward.”

He reached for his shattered cowl and threw it aside, then he assembled his gun into a sniper rifle before tearing off a strap tied to his chest to reveal the red bat symbol hidden beneath it.

“You can’t hide from me, you bastard,” he said as he activated a red visor that wrapped around his face. “I will hunt you down. I will find you.”

* * *

While the Dark Knight’s eyes were closed, Batman darted behind one of the many short walls that formed the room’s cubicles, not far from where Gordon sat, chained to the chair, unable to do anything but watch the battle in play.

Gordon watched Batman crouch behind the wall even as Jason Todd shook off the pain and rose again to his feet. Jason snapped his fingers and a half-dozen guards streamed into the room.

“He’s here, somewhere. Find him—but bring him to me alive. I’m the one who will kill him. Nobody else. Just me.”

Jason looked up at the gargoyles, scanning each one. “He’s got a thing for hiding in high places. Maybe even hanging upside down, just like all the goddam bats. Keep your eyes up. Keep your eyes open.”

Batman was still crouching behind the wall, waiting. Jason carefully circled the immense chamber, moving behind each protruding wall, checking the cubicle hiding spaces, until he was less than thirty yards from where Batman was waiting. It wouldn’t take long to find him, Gordon knew.

Jason moved closer, then heard a muffled sound behind him. He whirled, gun ready, but nobody was there. He continued ahead, moving quickly, reaching the wall behind which Batman was hiding, ready to fire.

* * *

Batman wasn’t there.

He’d taken that momentary distraction and grappled to the closest gargoyle, then pressed close to it to avoid being seen. As Jason and his militia continued to scour the room, he grappled to a second gargoyle, once again pressing in close. He waited for them to move on, then grappled to the next gargoyle.

He waited. Jason moved past him, the militia flanking him on all sides. Batman waited for the last soldier to step beneath him, and then he dropped to the ground and took the man out with a silent chokehold.

The soldiers heard nothing, but Jason had. He whirled and fired, but Batman was already gone.

“He’s here. He’s targeting us. Do your damn jobs and find him.” The men nodded quietly. It was clear from their expressions that they feared him.

Batman grappled to the next gargoyle, then flattened himself again as Jason opened fire on the one he’d just vacated. The gargoyle exploded into countless pieces, but Batman was nowhere to be found.

He lowered himself behind another of the militia soldiers, grabbed him across his mouth and throat. In seconds the man was unconscious. Batman fired his grapple across the room, latching onto the next level up and disappearing into the dark.

“Bruce, listen to me,” Jason shouted. “I know you won’t leave until you confront me again, but that only means you’re giving me more time to find you and kill you. You think I’m trapped here with you, but you’re trapped here with me—and remember, I know all your secrets. I know how you think, and I know exactly how I’m going to kill you.”

He suddenly turned again and sprayed the gargoyles with bullets, destroying three more, damaging all of them. But Batman was back on the ground, hiding in another cubicle, another unconscious soldier lying behind him. He nodded to Gordon, who gave no sign, but watched as Batman once again grappled to a gargoyle. Jason’s bullets had destroyed half of it, but still Batman blended into the shadows, away from view.

Two more soldiers to go, and then he had to confront Jason Todd. He prayed he could convince his former partner to surrender, yet knew he would not. Batman couldn’t kill him, but he was afraid there would be no other way to stop him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when they came face to face.

Batman lowered himself behind another short wall and grabbed a soldier who was peering up at the gargoyles. The soldier went down, leaving only one more with whom to deal.

And then Jason.

“You’re good, Bruce. Better than ever, but you’re going to lose this war, and I think you know it.” Jason stepped away from the last soldier. “Everything you care about has been taken from you. Your former friend,” he said, pointing at Gordon, still chained to his chair. “He now hates you, as well he should. The Joker would never have had any reason to ruin his daughter’s life if it wasn’t for you.

“Your first Robin barely speaks to you. Your current one feels neglected. And you can see how you impacted on my life. I not only want you dead, I want you thoroughly destroyed. I want the very memory of you purged from the history books.”

* * *

Jason stared up toward the dark ceiling. Batman had to be there, hiding on top of a gargoyle, or in the shadows of the rafters. Jason held his weapon, pivoting it right, left, up, down; Jason would find Bruce wherever he was hiding.

“Change of plans, Bats,” he shouted. “You tend to win these engagements because your enemies talk you to death. Well, my talking ends now. No more witty banter. If I see you, I shoot you—and if I shoot you, you will die.”

Jason turned to give new orders to the final soldier, but the man was already unconscious on the ground. A silent takedown. Batman specialized in those. He started to get angry, but pushed it aside. The soldiers were only cannon fodder. They existed solely to keep Batman busy. To tire him out.

Batman had the weight advantage and, as hard as it was to admit it, he was the better fighter. Exhausting him before the two faced off would almost make them equals.

Jason strained to listen to every sound echoing through the vast chamber. Everything reverberated off the walls—every step, every movement. Maybe it had been a mistake, luring Batman here where he couldn’t easily pinpoint his location.

Maybe it was, but there was no turning back. Whatever happened next, however the encounter unfolded, the only way it was going to end was with his former mentor lying face down on the floor in a spreading pool of his own blood.

Suddenly a shadow flashed by and Jason fired, but there was no one there. Something moved off to his left. He fired again.

Still nothing. He heard a whooshing sound high overhead, in the rafters. He sprayed the ceiling with bullets, but there was nobody there.

Jason was angry now.

Where the hell are you—?

Batman was behind him.

Jason whirled but a clenched fist slammed him back. Then a foot smashed into his arm, breaking something, forcing him to drop his gun. He scrambled for it but a volley of hard, steady punches kept him off balance. He tried to back away, to gain a moment to collect his thoughts, but a knee smashed into his groin and he yelped in pain.

He fell back, then the dark shadow moved closer. He twisted and rolled off to the side. The shadow fell on empty ground.

Jason caught his breath and rose to his feet.

“You are good, old man, but I’m ready now. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Batman emerged from the shadows just in front of him, scarcely two feet away. Suddenly, he was on top of Jason, balled fists smashing into his face and gut.

Jason intentionally fell back and then spun. His foot slammed into Batman’s neck, just where the cape was secured to his shoulders. By necessity this was an unprotected area—one of the very few in Batman’s armor.

Batman tumbled back, and before he could right himself, Jason was on him, smashing a fist into his face, smashing his elbows into Batman’s gut.

“I
trusted
you, Bruce,” Jason screamed. “I trusted you and what did you do? You left me to be tortured for so long in that rotting cell in Arkham.”

“That’s not what happened, Jason. I swear. I didn’t know you were alive.”

“You didn’t care enough to find out.”

“But I know now,” Batman replied, blood pouring from his nose as Jason slammed him again. He didn’t bother to wipe it away. “We can work together to fix you. Let me help you. Please, Jason. Give me the chance to help.”

The Joker was dancing behind Batman. “You don’t honestly think he’s going to let you help? The kid’s a feral dog, Bats. The only way to stop him is to put him down.”

But Batman wasn’t listening.

Jason picked the gun up from the floor and again pointed it at Batman.

“Go ahead,” Batman said. “I understand. I accepted a lunatic’s word that he killed you. I believed the faked video he sent me. And if you decide, I’ll accept the consequences. But I can help you… I want to help you.”

“There’s no way on Earth you can do anything to help me. Not now. Not ever.” Jason stared at Batman, his hand trembled and he tightened his grip on the gun. “I was in his goddam prison for three years, Bruce. You have no idea what he did to me. You left me to suffer there for so long. He made me suffer for so long.”

“I did. I really did,” the Joker said, theatrically solemn. He pulled a long, multicolored handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “I am such a bad man. Next time I get deep-fried, I want to push the button myself.”

Suddenly Jason screamed. He dropped the gun to the floor and turned away.

“I
can’t
. I want to, but I can’t.” He fell to his knees and wept.

As he watched Jason crying, Batman knew this was his fault, and because of him, everyone he cared about was hurt, or died. He turned from Jason and tapped his gauntlet communicator.

Alfred’s face appeared in the hologram.

“Is everything all right, sir?”

“Alfred, I found him,” Batman said. “I found Jason.”

“Excuse me?”
For a moment Alfred was speechless.
“Master Todd is—”

“No,” Batman said. “He’s been alive all this time. Prisoner of the Joker. I believed that madman’s lies. I should have known better than that.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. But is he all right now?”

Batman turned back to Jason, but he was gone. All that was left in his place was the Arkham Knight’s mask, broken and discarded.

“No, Alfred,” Batman said, his voice soft and hollow. “No. He’s not.” He stopped talking, said nothing for a long time, then took a deep breath and pushed aside his melancholy. “I wanted to touch base with you one more time. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now.”