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"Okay youse two, up against the wall."
That's the last thing that Robin remembered after he awoke to find
himself locked in a small cell. He hurriedly felt for his gloves.
They weren't there. He sighed, vaguely remembering the gas emanating
from their captor's gun* and then shortly after falling victim to
a sleeping gas of some sort. Even the Batman had been too slow in
putting his filter on and had also been drugged.
Suddenly he thought of Batman. But Batman had been put in a separate
cell; obviously, their captors knew better than to keep both Batman
and Robin captive in the same place together.
Robin's first thought was of escape, then realized that escape was
virtually impossible without any of Batman's gadgets. He'd have
to rely solely on his brains for this. The cell was totally dark.
There were no windows save the one on the door, which was unbreakable.
But everything had its limit, and he was going to test the glass's.
He aimed a high kick at the small, high square window. His foot
bounced off as if he was kicking a trampoline. He kicked harder,
but to no avail. The window would not budge.
Meanwhile, across the hall, the three thugs that captured the dynamic
duo were playing poker on a green felted table. The first thug,
Butch, was a husky six foot man, able to lift five hundred pounds
at a time. The second thug was a thin wiry man, the hotel delivery
man. He was a scrawny fellow, about five foot ten. And the third
was named Red. His hair was brown; he was named Red for all the
blood he'd drawn from his many victims. These three had done the
impossible: captured both the Batman and Robin at the same time.
But could they hold the duo at bay?
"Four ladies," the gruff Butch said, chomping on a large
cigar. The hotel delivery man, Mitchell, fanned the air near him.
"Butch, can you put that out? I think I'm allergic to the smoke
or somethi - "
Butch leaned his massive body across the table and grabbed the frightened
Mitchell by the front of his shirt. "Lissen here, Shrimpy,"
he said, poking Mitchell's chest for emphasis, "this here's
my operation. I could kill you if I wanted to. So shaddap or else
we'll have ourselves a little trip to the alley, capice?"
* As seen last ish. - Swingin' Steve
Mitchell's slim face turned white as he shook in Butch's huge hands.
"Okay...yessir," he said, trembling.
"Dat's better," Butch said, retreating back to his position.
"What's yer hand there, Red?"
"I got t'ree of a kind," he said. "I still sez dat
we gots ta watch dat kid."
"Red, I tol' you once, I tol' you a t'ousand times! - Dat kid
ain't no t'reat to us! Da big man's comin' wit' our payoff tomorry!
And Batman's locked up tighter'n anyt'ing. Trust me," he added
with a sly grin. He glanced at Mitchell. "Hey Mitchie, what's
in yer hand?"
Mitchell's knuckles turned white and his hands shook. He was nervous
in the presence of the hulking Butch. "Um...four aces?"
"WHAT?!" Butch roared. "Four aces! You hear dis?"
Butch said, pointing a thumb at Mitchell while looking at Red. "Dis
kid here's got four a' kind a' aces!" He grabbed Mitchell's
cards. "Go check on da prisoners," he said, "before
I nail youse to dat dere wall. Now!"
"Yes sir, checking!" Mitchell called as he bolted from
the smoky room.
Butch and Red looked at each other and began to laugh. Phase two
of their plan was just beginning. And progressing smoothly.
The mighty Batman struggled against his bonds valiantly, but to
no avail. He couldn't even move anything. Not a millimeter. He shook
his head up and down quickly. Good, they hadn't removed his cowl.
He looked down and could barely make out his midsection. They hadn't
taken his cowl, but they HAD taken his belt. No matter, he would
find a route of escape one way or another.
The cell that Batman was in had a very little bit of filtered light.
It was coming from the room across the hall from him, he could see,
and he could barely make out the sounds of two voices.
Suddenly there came a rap on his cell door. Batman's mouth had not
been gagged, for if it had been, he couldn't have uttered, "Enter,"
to the warden.
Mitchell opened the window. "Well, nice to see you're awake,"
he said nonchalantly. "Seems the big guy's coming tomorrow
to collect you two and give us our payoff." You two, Mitchell
had said. That meant that they had Robin, too. "Butch wanted
me to make sure you weren't escaping," he said, poking his
small head through the window. "Heh heh...you couldn't escape
if you wanted to!" He shut the window. "Hope your little
buddy over there isn't trying to escape, because if he is..."
Mitchell made a motion of sliding his index finger across his throat
- the cutthroat motion.
Batman heard Mitchell's footsteps receding. Robin was here! But
he couldn't do anything about it.
A lithe figure, clad in a shade of deep purple, hesitated before
touching the fence surrounding the dank building. Finding that the
fence wasn't electrified, the figure proceeded to climb the fence
stealthily. Like a cat, some would say.
The figure reached the top of the barbed fence, with...a tail?...curling
down the outside of the fence. The figure hopped over, and her tail
went with her.
'I've got to get to them before the Joker or the Riddler does,'
she thought. Oh, how she positively loathed the Batman! But she
also loved him as well. And she must rescue the man she loves.
In his cell, Robin discovered that the window, although not breakable,
was very pliable...that is, it could bend. 'Maybe,' Robin thought,
'I can bend the glass so much it will fall out of the frame.' He
tried pushing on the center of the pane. Nothing. He pushed the
top of the pane very hard. The top part shifted a little bit. Overjoyed
that he had found a way of escape, he hurriedly covered up any trace
of escapement. It was just in the nick of time, because he heard
someone approaching. Then a key rattled in the door and Robin sprang
to the ready. The scrawny warden opened the window.
'How,' Robin thought, 'can he open the door lock and unlock the
window at the same time?' As the window slowly opened to reveal
Mitchell, Robin thought, 'Probably some kind of catch inside the
door...some mechanism that unlocks the window through the door.'
"Hiya, kid," Mitchell said.
Robin glared at the intrusion. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Mitchell began to laugh. "Who am I?" he said. "I
know who I am. And I know who you are. As for what our plans are
for you, you'll just have to wait and see."
Ignoring Mitchell's evasive answers, he looked directly ito Mitchell's
eyes - and noticed a telltale movement. Robin said, "You haven't
planned anything yet, have you?"
Mitchell seemed taken aback. Then he snarled.
"But what does all this have to do with the scientists?"
Robin asked.
He would get no reply. Mitchell slammed the window shut, locked
it tight.
Robin grinned.
"Come on, claws...do your work." The purple-clad figure
was at the building's main entrance, picking the lock. Suddenly
a searchlight probed the immediate area surrounding the building.
Catwoman seemed to melt into the shadows as she watched the light
pass within a foot of her. She held her breath. Suddenly she saw
two armed men running toward her.
"Hey fellows," Mitchell called as he entered the poker-room.
He tossed the cell keys on a table and plopped in a seat.
"The prisoners?" Butch queried.
"The prisoners," Mitchell repeated. "The kid is getting
wise to the operation, I think...but Batman seems disoriented still."
"Oh, well, dat's good news dere," Butch said. His hand
shot up and pointed a pistol right at Mitchell's face. "T'anks
for all da help dere, Mitchie." BLAM! The sound of gunshot
pierced the still night air. Outside, the two men and Catwoman heard
the shot. The two men ran off, which gave Catwoman a chance to reconnoiter.
She leaped to the fire escape to the side of the dank building,
climbed to the top...hopped onto the roof. She approached the one
skylight. She looked down into the poker-room. It appeared that
four men were arguing, and one had a gun. She smiled to herself.
This was just the distraction she needed.
Quietly she ran back down the fire escape. Noticing where the two
armed men had entered the building earlier, she entered as well,
making sure not to make any noise.
The building smelled old and musty. It must have been an old holding
cell for prisoners, before Arkham Asylum was built. But this jail
only housed thirty cells, two which were occupied at this time.
One by Batman, one by Robin. And Catwoman knew this. She knew that
they* wouldn't put Batman and Robin together, unless they were foolish,
like so many others. She knew she wouldn't put them in the same
room together.
So she started rapping very lightly on each cell door. When she
stopped at the fifth door from the front, she heard a slight scratching
sound. She peered into the window to see Robin dragging himself
across the floor. He had been severely beaten! Blood gushed out
of his body. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him. She couldn't
get him out first; what purpose would that serve, besides getting
them both caught?
She rapped on each cell door in turn until she came across the Batman,
trussed up and stripped of his utility belt and cape. Her poor,
poor love! It looked as if someone had tried to beat him but failed.
All that was on him was a large bruise on his jaw. She knew that
Batman had a better chance than Robin did to escape the hell hole
they were in. She also knew that he wouldn't leave Robin; but hopefully
he wouldn't rescue him until they were safe from the men, who were
still arguing in the poker-room.
She scratched sharply on the window. The Batman looked up sharply.
Noticing the Catwoman, he said, "So you're in cahoots with
them, Catwoman?"
She shushed him. She picked the lock and entered Batman's cell.
Oh, her poor, poor Batman! She felt so bad for him. She tilted his
bruised face toward her and kissed him deeply. She was going to
make the most of their situation.
However, she couldn't do much else, because the men had stopped
arguing and were approaching Batman's cell! She had closed the door
behnd her, and that bought them little time. "Catwoman,"
Batman said, "untie me. And pick the lock on the metal braces."
She did as she was told. In three seconds Batman was devoid of his
manacles. "Hide," he said, "in the dark corner over
there. I'll pretend that I'm still tied up - " He didn't have
a chance to finish, for the door opened. This time, it was the burly
Butch that stepped in.
"Well, Batman," he said, "looks like it's just you
an' me." Butch aimed a kick square at Batman's head. Batman
ducked and grabbed Butch's foot and swung him, threw him into a
wall where he crumpled to the ground and lay still.
"Well, that was easy," Catwoman said. She and Batman slipped
out of the cell, making sure they had taken Butch's key set, and
locked the cell door behind them. Batman called out, "Hey youse
guys, meet me back at da table. I wants ta play some poker."
The sound of men walking to the room greeted the duo's ears as they
slipped into the room. Closed the door behind them.
"Oh no...it's the Batman!" one of them said.
"Obviously," Batman said as he sidestepped a charging
Red. Grabbing Red in a headlock, the two tumbled to the ground.
Meanwhile, Catwoman was having problems of her own. Two of the men
tackled her and proceeded to tie her up. One whispered, "Come
on, honey, why don't we go to my place and - "
He didn't get a chance to finish. Catwoman's kick sent him hurtling
into the poker table, toppling it over. The cards and chips fell
to the floor. Catwoman grabbed a handful of chips and threw it in
her thug's face, then kicked him in the stomach. A gunshot went
off. Suddenly the room went pitch black.
In the small amount of light from the window, Batman identified
their new assailant as none other than Butch. How he had managed
to escape he didn't know; but he certainly did care.
* "They" being Butch, Red, and Mitchell. - Swingin' Steve
Butch was armed with a metal pipe. Cherging at Batman, he swung
the pipe and narrowly missed hitting Batman in the back of the head.
Batman felt the whoosh of air and aimed a roundhouse at Butch's
midsection. Butch crumpled, clutching his stomach. He dropped the
pipe. Batman picked it up and threw it out of a window.
The lights came back on, but Butch, Red and Catwoman were gone.
Still in the room besides Batman were Butch's two lackeys. They
were out cold.
Batman opened the door to the poker-room and stepped into the hallway
after securing the two men in the poker-room. He quietly made his
way down the dimly lit corridor and, like Catwoman had previously
done, rapped on each cell door in turn. He had the keys, of course;
but one thing he certainly did NOT want to do was to charge into
a small pitch-black room and get jumped. This way, he at least had
a chance to get ready for his assailants.
The fifth door he rapped on was the cell that Robin had been captive
in. Catwoman had briefed Batman on Robin's condition, so Batman,
of course, did not wish to bring Robin into the poker-room brawl.
After he rapped, he heard something stir. At first he thought that
it might be one of his assailants; but it was Robin, beaten severly
and bound and gagged.
"Robin!" Batman cried in horror. The boy's right eye was
swollen shut, his nose was bleeding as was his mouth. He had numerous
cuts and bruises where the men had beaten him. "Robin, don't
move. I'll get you." Batman picked Robin up slowly, gently.
Robin looked into Batman's face, and for the first time saw a look
of real concern on it.
"I-I'll be okay," Robin said.
"After you've stayed out of action for awhile." Batman
took Robin to the poker-room, where he found the awakened thugs.
He uprighted the poker table and layed Robin on its top. Batman
glared at the thugs.
"Okay, slime. Talk!" Batman said. "Tell me who's
behind all this."
His eyes narrowed. "And tell me everything you know about those
scientists."
Bat-Signals
So, what do you think of the issues so far? Let me know! Send all
correspondence to Solar_Winds@yahoo.com, subject: Bat-Signals. Thanks!
See you in 30!
Thanks again for taking the time to read this issue.
- Steve Swartz
(Send me letters!)Solar_Winds@yahoo.com
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