#4: A Riddle Wrapped in E Nigma, Pt2 (HoM/Villalobos)

"Evil is, good or truth misplaced."
Mohandas Gandhi, 1869-1948

The Batman stands tall across the chasm that separates the Enigma Tech building and the opposite mall. He surveys the building, noting the reinforced steel that supports the building, the armoured plastic being used for windows… And then he nods to himself. This building, with its earthquake proof architecture… Something doesn’t seem quite right. There’s only one entrance. The windows don’t seem to have any kind of opening mechanism. What the hell is going on? He throws out a line, and it connects with the tall building facing him. Only one way to find out what is going on. And that… is to get inside.

“Essen?” Gordon awaits a reply, his phone crackling as Sarah replies to the phone call.

“What’s up, Sir?”

“We have the warrant, we’re heading over right now. Don’t move a muscle till we get there, y’hear? Don’t let Harv get out of your-”

Harvey Bullock places his hand on the door of the building and his eyes light up, noticing something deep within his line of site. “ESSEN! GET THE HELL DOWN!” a spark zigzags across the façade of the Enigma building, and an explosion rips through the reception area at the front of the structure, smoke bursting out of the shattered doors. Harvey is thrown backwards into his car, his battered paintwork taking yet another attack. Batman swings down, grabs the two officers, and when another explosion rips through the street, he protects them with his own body, his cape taking the brunt of the shrapnel and debris as the smoke slowly begins to clear.

“Seems someone is a bit impatient.” Batman looks down at Sarah, who has a nasty purple bruise already forming over her forehead. “Bullock, call an ambulance.”

“Damn it, Ess…” Bullock looks over to Batman, his brow furrowing. “Did that Nigma creep just detonate his own building?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. The explosives were inside the building, yes… But nothing was compromised that would damage the rest of the building. This was a trap set to take out a first wave of police officers.” He turns to Bullock, his voice deepening. “And you tripped the trap, Bullock.” He stands up, and his cape whips behind him as he begins to walk towards the building.

Chapter Three:



The Batman and Bullock, quietly sneak into the building. When they reach the end of the first corridor, a large elevator meets them. “Going up?”

“Wait. Look.” Batman points at a charred piece of paper stuck to the lift doors. He can make out the drawing of a green top hat with a purple question mark on the front. A big black arrow points down from the top of the page, and the hat is covered by a red cross. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a picture puzzle. There’s a meaning to it.” Harvey scratches his head and takes his cigar out of his mouth. “We’ve got to go to the top of the building. Take away the hat, and what’s left?”

“The top.” Batman smiles to himself. “A bit obvious, but when you take the ‘hat’ out of ‘top-hat’, you leave ‘top’. Diabolical… Hrm.” Batman presses the button on the side of the wall and the door slowly opens.

Harvey is about to step inside, when Batman pushes him back. “Bullock, wait! That lift is probably wired to explode if anyone steps in it. Look.” Batman points to the bottom of the lift, and shows Harvey a small pad that takes up the entire floor of the elevator. “Pressure pads.”

“Well there sure ain’t any stairs, Detective…” Harvey tips his hat down, over his eyes, and sighs. “What ideas you got then, mister?” He turns to look at the Dark Knight, but he’s not there… “Bats?!” He catches a flutter of cape inside the lift and stumbles back, half-expecting the entire shaft to erupt in fire and smoke. “Did he… Fly?”

The entire elevator shudders and moves down so that the top of the lift is level with the first floor. Batman stands atop it, holding onto the large cable that pulls the small metal box up and down. “Now you can say it, Bullock.”

“Going up?”

Harvey and Batman stand atop the lift. The masked vigilante grabs the large officer around the waist and smiles slightly. “Don’t get any ideas.” Harvey opens his mouth to protest when his soggy cigar falls from his lips and Batman’s eyes widen.
“Great-” He fires off a grapnel that shoots high into the elevator shaft, and the duo fly up, as flames and metal race up to catch them. Bullock notes the pain and tension on Batman’s face, as they are both yanked forward, onto another floor high about the reception area. Bullock rolls to one side, then springs up, gun drawn, ready for a fight. Batman leans against the wall, pressing his outstretched fingers against the plaster and metal. “I’m detecting vibrations. Movement.”

“Employees?” Bullock raises his gun, still ready, slightly tense, finger around the trigger.

Batman rises up his free hand in silence. “No. Heavy… vibrations, servos… Whirring… ” His eyes open wide, and he pushes Harvey back, just as a large metallic fist crashes through the wall. Rubble pours everywhere, as dust and plaster shower the area. A massive metal thing steps through the hole, fists raised.

“Holy…” Harvey raises his gun and discharges four shots, only to see the bullets ricochet off, and embed themselves in the opposite wall .

The device turns. It seems to be a large robot with long hydraulic arms… Below its right hand, something resembling a cannon begins to whiz around.

“Gun!” Harvey dives around the corner of the office floor, as bullets shoot past his head, nearly hitting him.

Batman is up already. With two batarangs in his hands, he jumps atop the monstrosity, digging the metal blades into the mechanism of the robot. “Harvey, you alright?” As he utters these words he’ is thrown over the robot, and showered by a flurry of bullets that catch his cape and graze his arm. Still, he reaches Harvey in time, and they both take cover. “Damn. That’s top of the line Luthor Corp equipment. Digging mechanism used for high pressure mining…” Batman shakes his head. “And the only way forward now is the stairwell, behind that thing…” He clenches his fist. “It has some weak points, the links between arm and body, for example, but Luthor reinforces his weak points…”

“What do we do…?” Harvey looks over to the vigilante. “And how the hell do you know so much about Luthor Corp equipment?”

“No questions. Just…” Batman dives out of the corner and rolls to the side, throwing a batarang with expert precision at the arm link. The metal blade strikes its mark, digs itself into the body and then the machine falls silent. “Just… actions.”

“What did you do…” Harvey inches out of cover and looks over at his partner.

“Absolutely nothing that would-” A blast of fire engulfs the dark knight and he stumbles back into the partition between the offices.

Harvey draws his weapon and runs straight for the distracted machine, then leaps on its arm, discharging his weapon directly inside the gauntlet where the flamethrower lies. The fire splutters out and stops, and Harvey slams the barrel of his gun into the crack the batarang had formed. He fires off his weapon once more, and the device goes wild for a moment, its arms flying everywhere, as it tries to dislodge its attacker, but it slowly winds down, and collapses to the floor. A small pod opens out of the main chassis. “God damn!” he watches as a man in a security uniform pulls himself out of the device, blood gushing from a nasty bullet wound to the arm.

“Argh… Bastards! Trespassing!” Bullock looks on in amazement.

“Trespassing?! You… You’re a security guard? IN AN ARMOURED SUIT!?” Harvey shakes his head. “WHAT ARE YOU, DENSE?! ARE YOU RETARDED OR SOMETHING? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE ARE?” He slaps the man in the head and picks him up. “I’m Detective Bullock from the GCPD. That… That pile of ash is Batman. This entire building is booby trapped to hell and you tell us we’re trespassing?!” He shakes his head once more, fists clenched in rage. “How the hell did you get up here if this place has pressure pads and sensors beyond anything I’ve seen before?”

“Elevator from the parking lot… I’m on this floor… There are others scattered near the stairwells…”

“Dammit man, you just burst through a wall, in an armoured suit, in a place you’re supposed to be guarding… What is this building supposed to be then?”

“Bullock. They were hired to keep people out this very day, weren’t you Spike?”

Harvey spins around to see Batman, smouldering still from the flames, his cape burnt and blistered, chunks missing and the ends smoking. “Buh… Batman? Spike?”

“David ‘Spike’ Wallis. Rent-A-Con in the Gotham underworld. Last seen in Blackgate prison after the Dr. Death fiasco.” Batman whips his cape so the ash flies off, then grabs ‘Spike’. “Two years has it been, Spike? Out a bit early, why is that?”

Spike is shaking as a hand pins him against the wall, but he tries to put on a brave face. “G-Good behaviour…” Batman moves his hand over the bullet wound, smiling slightly.

“Looks painful, Spike.” He puts his thumb over the wound, and Spike begins to shake in fear. “Tell me what I want to know.”

“A’ite, a’ite! I’ll spill, just don’t hurt me anymore…” He shakes his head. “I was approached when I was out on parole, seriously, good behaviour!”

Batman nods.

“And this guy calls me up, tells me he knows about my experience…”

Harvey presses his hand over the bullet wound in anger. “Your experience in being a third rate con? And yet he trusted you with a £$%^^%&^ armoured suit?” He shakes his head. “Am I still the only one who sees a problem in this?”

“No, Harvey… No you’re not.” Batman picks up Spike and pushes him against the wall. “Who else is here? What else can we expect?”

“Ahh! I dunno! I dunno!” Batman pulls him close. The criminal’s feet dangle above the floor.

“TELL ME.”

“Crap! Argh… Uh… I…” He looks at Bullock, who has reloaded his gun, and has his hand over his holster, ready and willing to do whatever it takes. “Some group… They hired these out of towners from Hub City… These goateed sons of bitches who never stop laughing… Freaks if I ever saw ‘em… That’s all I know Batman… Please… Guys… Don’t hurt me…” Batman drops the crook and grabs his arm. The man squirms at his touch. The vigilante removes a small vial from his utility belt, and presses a button. White paste sprays over the bullet wound. “In and out, Spike. You’ll be staying here till we come pick you up.” He grabs some handcuffs from the back of his belt and attaches one end to a heavy desk and the other to the man’s uninjured hand. Then he turns to Bullock.

BABOOOOOM!

The building shakes, and the two men look at each other. “Hell was that, Bats?”

“Explosions. Floors below us… Another booby trap… We’d better press on.”

Chapter Five:



He watches through the lens Batman sees through, a direct live feed from the cowl to the computer on his lap. His fingers dig into his leg, terrified at what he has just witnessed. Alfred Pennyworth shudders, watching Harvey prop up the near-dead masked vigilante against a nearby wall. Alfred hurriedly pulls out a microphone from the side of the laptop, and waits.

“Wake up, Bats…” Bullock slaps him across the face, and feels himself go slightly red. “Shoot… Come on, ya winged bastard…”

“He’s losing a lot a blood.” Harvey spins around at the crackly voice, and then looks down at Batman. “Move away from him.” Harvey scratches his head and stumbles back, confused at the words emanating from the cowl of Batman.

“Who is this?” Harvey grimaces. “Who am I talking to?”

“Brother Knight.”

“Holy Hell, ‘Brother Knight’… I think Batman’s dead…”

Alfred knows he was right to build this security system into the cowl of his adopted son’s uniform, and he knows that his communications system is a work of genius. He runs over to the desk where he works when he is not needed by Bruce, and presses his thumb on to the forehead of a Shakespearean bust. The head pops open, splitting in two at the jaw. This was a good idea too. He presses the red button inside, and nods to himself.

Data streaks through the roof of Wayne Manor, through the atmosphere, and into the orbiting satellite placed above Gotham City by Wayne Enterprises to support their broadcasting endeavours, among other things. As the information reaches the circuits of the machine, it triggers a switch and a beam of information shoots back down into Gotham City. The information wave bursts through solid concrete and glass… It hits Batman and electricity streaks across his body, his every nerve and fibre pulsating with energy, his heart once again beating as… He jerks up, eyes open, memories swimming to the forefront of his mind and then he’s back, back with a vengeance.

Thank you, Alfred… I owe you my life once more…

He turns to the portly cop beside him. “Harvey. We’re on the executive floor. That means the boardroom is over there.” He motions with a broken hand to an open room, and Harvey nods in understanding. “And through there is Nigma’s office. Be ready for anything.” Harvey nods again.

Krshh.

“What’s that?”

“M’radio! I’ve had it on all this time!” The two look at each other for a while.

“Then answer it.”

“Oh… Yeah!”

“HARV! HARV?”

“Jim! Yeah, it’s Harv here, we’re at the top floor of the building.”

“SWAT followed you up, but we lost contact with them five minutes in… And we’ve been hearing explosions, did they ever catch up with you?”

Batman looks at Harvey, and they recall the explosion earlier. “No, bossman… They… They never did. Didn’t Essen tell you not to send anyone up?!”

“Commissioner Loeb was adamant. He doesn’t especially care for our little unit, or for the Batman. So he totally disregarded the fact that we had suspicions that the entire place is booby trapped… And he sent up the SWAT team… The entire team. Damn him to hell!”

“We haven’t located the hostages yet, but there was a clue on the lift… That exploded… About them being on the top of the building. So we’re there now.”

“Alright, alright… We can’t do anything till the bomb squad gets here, and we figure out a way to get through the elevator shaft. You’re on your own, Bullock. Good luck.”

“Luck? Ha! I’ve got Batty here with me. We can’t fail.”

“Gordon out.”

“Harvey, you dropped this.” Batman passes Bullock a magazine for his gun. “You don’t want to be weaponless if something big happens… Even though I don’t approve of the weapon you use.”

The room is quiet, unearthly quiet, and the only light is a small lamp at the end of the chamber. Harvey loads his gun and walks onto the highest floor of the building, accessible only from the private elevator in Nigma’s own boardroom. There are about thirty crates, all covered by sheets of white cloth, and a loud ticking noise comes from the floor, where a question mark is spray painted down. “Who the hell…”

“You’ve finally made it! To the grand finale of surely the greatest crime committed in Gotham’s history!” A man in green and purple waves his arms around, his cane grasped surely in one hand, a timer in the other. “In my hand I have a timer that will detonate a nuclear weapon in this very building!” The man smiles wryly, pointing with his cane at the device. “The payload isn’t as destructive as some of the others that were available from The Weapon Master’s stock… but surely, this will cause a winter that will freeze the hearts of Gothamites all round!”

“What the hell are you on, idiot? You detonate a nuke… You’ll kill everyone. You, me, those two gals downstairs… Get over yourself Nigma, you ain’t got the guts…”

The man pauses for a moment, and his head slumps down his shoulders, seemingly exhausted and done. “Nigma. Nigma. EDWARD NIGMA! He’s not a real person! He’s make believe and smoke and mirrors! You were all fooled but not me… I’m always here, always knowing what has to be done… ‘Eddie’ wouldn’t have the guts, you’re quite right but I… I would.” He lifts the timer and smiles, and Harvey doesn’t dare raise his gun… “So shut the hell up pig cop.”

“Right, right, calm down then… What’s in your other hand?”

“A trigger. One death for an entire city’s lives… Would you play those odds…?”

“Why ask me? I’m not…” Harvey looks at his gun and then looks up. “I would play those odds. Yes.” The man in front of him smiles.

“Ok then.” He presses the button atop his cane and a Plexiglas divider slams down between him and Bullock. “Here’s how we play, pig.” He presses another button, and a small section of the floor separates in half, a small chair rising from the darkness. “Kill this man, and we’ll be done here. I’ll vanish, promising on my life and yours never to take part in a crime anymore. You will be the hero cop… Or will you? You’re suspected of being dirty. IA is currently searching for evidence to support the allegations. Merkel’s rolling over on you to get himself out of a predicament… You’ll be a killer Bullock. And my security cameras will show the world.”

Bullock flinches at the words. “Who’s the guy?”

“Secret.”

“Get bent then. Tell me who, and I’ll sure as hell do it.”

“I give you a chance to save lives, and you want something in return… That’s not how it works, pig cop.”

“Hhrn.” Harvey points his gun at the man, and fires off a shot. The man flies backwards out of the chair. “Done.” He puts his gun down, kicks it away, and scratches his head. “What now?”

The man in front of him smiles slightly, then laughter echoes from the chamber he resides in. He removes his green bowler, and frees his blonde hair, then yanks of the green jacket with a large question mark on the left breast. “Done my job for me.”

“And you’ve helped me do mine.”

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

“What is that? What’s that noise?” The man spins around, trying to figure out where the clanging noise is coming from.

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

He grips the cane, yanks out a thin sabre from inside the long shaft and readies himself. The shadows laugh at him as he spins around, searching, screaming, rattled by the noise that surrounds him.

“I’m here.”

“Who the… What… COME OUT! I’LL KILL US ALL! YOU, ME, EVERYONE HERE!”

“You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I have my finger on the button! I’ll kill us all!”

“You’re just a second rate man. Never the front runner. Never special.”

Click.

“’Click’? Where’s the boom, BROWN? Where’s the earth shattering, city decimating BOOM?”

“I… Uh… What did you do, WHAT?!”

“It seems that you’ve been screwed over. And now that you’re disarmed and alone…”

Arthur Brown feels his body twitch and shudder, fear overwhelming him… Why can’t he see his attacker?

“Time we meet.”

Darkness engulfs Arthur Brown, and he starts to scream.

Harvey Bullock turns away from the shrieks and looks at the body of the man he just shot. His eyes narrow. No blood. He frowns slightly, arches his eyebrow and picks him up, the mans eyes darting every which way. “Bloody hell… Nigma?” He yanks off the gag covering the man’s mouth, and then looks up at Batman, who stands above Arthur Brown, a triumphant smile on his face. He looks down on Nigma, who smiles slightly. “What happened here, Ed?”

“Arthur… Arthur Brown was trying to frame me for these attacks! He was attacking my future employees, using them to cover his true crime…” Eddie slows himself down, and looks up at Harvey. “He placed a hypnotic suggestion into their heads, to induce them to flood to this building… And, once he had them under his control, it was a simple task for him to tie them up and place them where no one would look…”

“And that is?”

“Here! This room!” He motions to the covered crates surrounding them, and Harvey sees them move, people breathing beneath the sheets.

“Damn!” Harvey smiles and runs over to them, pulling off the sheets, to reveal people tied to chairs. There are question mark scars on their bare necks. “DAMN!” He laughs to himself. “Nigma, what was the trigger then?

What triggered them to all come here?”

“What else, officer? A riddle.”

“Bloody hell… One thing though… How the hell are you still alive? I shot you square in the chest…”

“Uh…” Nigma blushes slightly at the words.

“Check your magazine.” Harvey turns at Batman’s voice, and then takes out the clip from his pistol.

“What the… Huh. Rubber bullets.”

“I’m not going to give you back a loaded magazine, am I Bullock?”

Epilogue One:

“The Riddler and the Clue Master… One and the same person. What use is a riddle if there are no clues?” He sits in the large chair in his new office overlooking Gotham. His fingers rest against each other as he thinks silently to himself. This Batman… He could have ruined it all. Could have destroyed everything he was working toward . His friends, his Society comrades, they were relying on him to get a certain job done in this city, and if that man, if that Dark Knight had come any closer to the truth, it would have fallen apart immediately. He scratches his head, just above the site of his tumour , and smiles slightly, as he thinks of how easy it is to feign insanity and to trick an old acquaintance into becoming a master criminal. He picks up the phone, remembering a name from his time in hiding. A drinking buddy one might say. The call is encrypted, sent through five dummy receivers and left at a secret location only one man knows. He dials the number, and a hissing noise pierces his ear as someone picks up. There’s the sound of laughter, eerie laughter and then an awkward silence. Nigma feels his hands shake, as he slowly speaks. “Hood… It’s Eddie… I might have a job for you… In Gotham…” The laughter begins once more, louder, more hysterical than before.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie… Anything for an old buddy…” The laughter continues as Eddie begins to share his plans…

Epilogue Three:

HB: You’re information was correct. He was on the top floor… The only complication was the Bat.

Harvey looks up at the screen at what he had typed.

KF: Everything has to start somewhere, be it now, in six years or in ten. Everything has to start somewhere, and here is were we begin.

HB: I have the hair sample and the blood sample.

KF: Will you be sending it along?

HB: No way in hell, KF. You aren’t getting this information. These men and women you believe to be threats to mankind’s existence? They’re heroes. You’re just paranoid.

KF: What? You want to entrust the world to people who guard their little cities because of their good will? What happens when they decide that their good will means they should kill every man, woman and child they can set their eyes on? Some of these people can shoot fire from their eyes and exhale ice. Some can deflect bullets with their wrists. It’s not paranoia, it’s common sense. So I guess this is your official resignation?

HB: Obviously. Stay out of my life, KF. We always said that when we parted ways, we’d leave each to our own.

KF: I’ll be seeing you, HB. It’s been a pleasure.

Harvey Bullock logs off the computer and looks at the blood sample he acquired while Batman was unconscious. He places the lock of hair and the blood into a small box and places it in his fridge.

“Harvey, come to bed…” Harvey smiles at the words, and turns to where the voice emanated from.

“Coming honey…”



The Beginning of the End...