Batman: Corporate Rivalry #1

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Written by: Jay McIntyre
Cover by: Roy Flinchum
Edited by: Brian Burchette[/center]

Sunset

Batgirl lay prone on a rooftop, looking over the edge towards the street below, visual enhancing next-generation binoculars. Necessary even on the relatively low rooftop they were on; so many of Gotham's skyscrapers were much higher, and truly remote from the streets below in a way things had never been in the old days.

Her cowl, like Batman's did not reveal any of her hair nor face; like him her eyes were hidden behind iris less lenses, and only her mouth was visible.

She watched the happy faces; yes, during the day at least, this was truly a content city with satisfied people. Children laughing, adults brisk and light in their step, old folks smiling as they ambled along in their old age, young couples dreaming of the future.

But the "shift change" would come soon.

"I'm getting antsy," she said.

"Patience," Batman's voice advised from behind her. "You're paid well for what we do."

"I don't do it for money; I do it for the thrills."

"Yes, but being paid to do what you love saves on all the trouble of a mundane job, eh?"

She snorted amused agreement. "You trained me well in this life."

"I had every reason to do so."

"What am I looking for, anyway?"

"The proxy war doesn't occur on the streets, but many eyes and agents are about at this hour, arranging things, planning, spying. Just as we are. Each side in this little guerilla war has it's own methodology and agenda, and you will learn both."

'Even though--" she began.

"Even though we have our loyalties, yes. Total situational awareness."

"Here endeth the lesson for today?" she asked lightly.

"You've learned my lessons well enough, and applied them to your strike force. I am pleased with your progress on that front, by the way."

She shrugged. "You taught me to diversify."

"Yes, but I never thought you'd apply the lesson in that particular way. What about that Checkmate agent who made contact?"

"I remain hopeful. The initial negotiations went well. The Government is wise enough--" she broke off. "I think I found something."

Batman moved beside her, standing on the ledge. "Yes?"

"Lower quadrant five point six two, the Dixon building."

Batman raised his own binoculars. "Yes......interesting."

They were looking at a small spider-like robot, black in color. Not tiny, but small. Hard to see in the scarlet shades of sunset, even with their technology.

"What is it?"

"Spy device of some kind, obviously. We're only able to see it through our binoculars, I can tell you that much. Shielded from regular view, sound almost certainly muffled as well."

"What's it looking for?"

"Us, possibly. Or perhaps it's just another bit of industrial espionage. Let's find out. Follow it, but at a discreet distance."

Almost as one, they launched themselves off the rooftop, capes fluttering.

Batgirl lived for moments like this. As she had told him, she lived for the thrill; the moment of free fall before they fired their grappling hooks, the wind whistling around their cowls. She was in her element.

They landed on the towering spire of the building the spybot had been on, but much further up. The Dixon building had no forgiving low rooftop; they were planted awkwardly about halfway up the spire. They had trained for this situation and many others, of course. Their boots could get traction most anywhere.

Batgirl lifted her binocs from her utility belt again, careful not to drop them. "There.....still climbing across the tower.....and is it moving up?"

"Ever so slightly," Batman agreed. "I don't think it's coming all the way up here, but we shall see. Perhaps it will find something interesting for us."

Eventually, the probe stopped. This building was not a traditional skyscraper in design; Gotham encouraged unusual architecture, particularly of the space age variety. It was a round cylinder, the offices within designed around that philosophy. This meant there was no simple way of hiding around the corner from it. But they had other methods.

"Can we pick up on whatever it's listening to from here?"

"Theoretically," Batman said. "It's chancy. Depends if it's sound or something else. Sound most likely, of course, but picking up whatever specific sound waves it's reading from this distance could be difficult. They're likely to get lost in the general confusion of other audio sources in the building."

"And it may not be sound it's trying to pick up anyway," Batgirl reasoned. "So what do we do?"

Batman, braced above her on the sheer surface, simply stared at her. "You tell me," he said. His tone had lost it's apparent lightness, and suddenly she felt as though she were back on the obstacle course or the firing range.

She thought it over carefully, then a sly smile spread across her face. "We hack it."

"Very good." There was approval in his tone, but the lightness did not return. He was all business now. "We still need a computer specialist, but remote access to the computers themselves will do the job for what we need." He put his binoculars away with one hand and took the computer minipad from his belt. "Any of your strike force have connections?"

She shrugged. "I asked the Cyborg, but the remaining members of his family were into the genetics end of things, and his father as you know is dead."

"Mmm. Keep looking on that end. I'll do the same."

Batgirl twitched. They hadn't moved position. It had been over ten minutes now.

"Patience," Batman said, a warning tone in his voice.

"I know," she said. "I just hope the computers manage to patch into it's signal before it's done spying on whatever it is. We could go down ourselves."

"Which would attract attention from whoever's inside," Batman explained. "Which is why a spybot would be used in the first place."

Batgirl hissed in impatience, but nodded.

"This is why we need a computer specialist ourselves. Otherwise this would've been done by now. Automatic functions can only do so much."

"I get it. I just wanna do something!"

Now Batman smiled. But it was grim, unpleasant thing. "Your initiative and drive are good, but they must be tempered by caution and strategy. That's one of the things your own strike force is teaching you." He would have said more, but finally there was a beeping noise. "Ah....here we go...."

Audio suddenly came through clear. "....LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises have this town sewn up," a harsh, nasal voice said. "If we're ever gonna get our turf back, we have to take out those rich bastards."

"Oh sure," a deeper, throatier voice answered. "Getting past their bodyguards alone is a nightmare. And if we somehow did whack em, their estates would come down on our heads. Besides, they own the law in this town, the way we used to."

"Maybe that's it," the nasal voice said, thoughtfully. "We gotta use the same methods they used on us. Not so different, really. After all, we are businessmen."

Grim laughter followed, then the other voice said, "We should still call in help from the old country though. You know, to help counter their death squads."

"Mafia," Batgirl breathed, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

'The old order," Batman agreed, "That ran the city before Wayne and Luthor rebuilt it. They want back in. Interesting. They could, of course, just use what money they still have to buy stock in one consortium or the other."

"Or both," Batgirl answered. "But they're not that smart, are they?"

'No," Batman agreed, and at last humor had returned to his voice. "They're not. You see, our patience is rewarded."

"Can I go first?"

"By all means, but remember..."

"Caution," she agreed. She took a deep breath, and launched herself.

Batman shook his head. "Ah, youth." He waited five seconds, and then followed her.

The Luthor building was at the northern end of the city. From it's lofty heights, one could see most of the city....and also the long, winding highway that led north to Metropolis, the city Lex Luthor had once called home, long ago.

A lifetime ago, it sometimes seemed.

Lex felt the weight of his years. His sandy hair was thinning away; already he had a pronounced bald spot on his head. Growing a mustache and beard really hadn't compensated, but now he was determined to stick with this new look. It was the look of Gotham's Lex Luthor, not the frightened, humbled man who had fled Metropolis all those years ago.

Gotham was half his, now; and by the time he was done, he was determined to have it all.

"Sir?" Mercy's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes," he said turning to her, hiding his irritation from one of his most favored employees. Favored in more ways than one. "I know you would not disturb me without cause."

"It's...." Mercy faltered, and looked down. "It's bad news, sir."

He sighed and steepled his fingers. "Of course it is. Speak on."

"Our probe that was monitoring the Bertinelli-Thorne negotiations was disabled. When a cleanup crew arrived the probe was gone, and Thorne was dead. Apparently only Bertinelli survived, as both the enforcers on his side and Thorne's were--"

"Batman," Luthor interrupted.

"There's no way to be sure of that," Mercy said. "But the evidence doesn't point to anyone or anything else."

Luthor nodded. "If Bertinelli is still alive, then he's been warned off. On the one hand, this benefits us; the old crime families are no longer a threat. On the other, it also means we can't use them later, either as tools or scapegoats."

"Yes, sir."

"Was there anything else?"

"No sir...unless you required something more." She looked at him.

He smiled thinly back. "Not at this time."

She nodded and left. Sighing, Luthor turned to his personal desk computer and punched up the relevant data. Data he had looked at many times before.

The Wayne family history.

Bruce Wayne had lost both his parents as a child. This had motivated him to begin the rebuilding of Gotham. Spurning most of the old wealthy families—save those that supported his new initiative—he had utilized his family's vast fortune to rebuilt the city. A fortune that rivaled his own.

Even so, Wayne could not continue his public works projects and massive renovations without draining that fortune, so business had been stepped up; Wayne Enterprises had employed many new people in and out of the city....acepted defense contracts, taken over failing automotive industries elsewhere in the country.....and attracted the Luthor family's attention.

Lex's father, Lionel, had always had a few holdings in Gotham in the old days, which was part of what had given Lex his foothold when he had come here. But Wayne had—intentionally or otherwise--challenged their national chunk of the pie. One of the many reasons Lex had come here to challenge "Gentleman Bruce".

Of course, there were also the reasons why he had fled Metropolis in the first place....but he preferred not to think of that.

But he thought of Wayne, more and more often lately. There was no evidence to suggest his theory, really. So what if Bruce had left the city for several years after his parent's death, receiving education both elsewhere in America and abroad? It was not as though Batman didn't hit both his and Wayne's corporate battle squads equally. But he couldn't help shake the feeling.....Batman, and his little girl sidekick, and her Chicago based team in turn, needed funding. And that funding certainly didn't come from LexCorp.

"Wayne," Lex asked, closing his eyes and breathing out softly. "Are you Batman?"