Batman: Revenge - Chapter Four

 

Batman: Revenge

Chapter 4

Back on the freeway again, Batman roared off towards the Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. He wanted to speak to one of the inmates he had known for a number of years. Before his incarceration, this particular inmate displayed an uncanny ability to dream up marketable ideas and solutions in the research and development department of  Wayne Enterprises. Now, he served time and continued to receive psychotherapy for the crimes he committed as the Riddler.
      At about 7:30 P.M. the Batmobile rolled up to the prison's security checkpoint. A prison guard stepped out of the check-in booth to greet the visitor. The chain-link fence, which would be opened momentarily, stood twelve feet high, topped by several rows of barbed wire. Inside, Arkham Asylum loomed large against the early evening sky. With its towering spires, the correctional facility for the criminally insane resembled something out of an old horror movie, like Dracula’s castle.
      Batman gave the command for the canopy to open. It moved forward, allowing him to look up at the first stars of the night, beginning to appear in the east, while the last light of day turned the thin, high clouds in the far west a light, pinkish orange.
    The officer, Shawn Muldoon, spoke with a pleasant hint of an Irish accent, “Good evenin’ Batman. How’ve ya been doin’ since I saw you last summer?”
    “Hello officer Muldoon. I’ve been keeping busy as usual, how about you and Mrs. Muldoon?”
    “Just fine, thanks for askin’. We just celebrated our fourteenth weddin’ anniversary. And who, may I ask, would be havin’ the pleasure of your company this evenin’?”
    “Congratulations on your anniversary, officer. I’m here to see Warden Borg and if he thinks it would be okay, I thought I would pay a visit to Edward Nygma.”
    “I’ll let the warden know that you’re here, Batman. He is currently with another visitor, Doctor Chase Meridian. She's some kind of criminal psychologist. I believe she's here, oddly enough, about the mental problems of Edward Nygma.”
    “Dr. Chase Meridian, did you say?” Batman appeared surprised, “She’s here, now?”
    “Why, yes, she’s here with Warden Borg. It’s the third time I’ve seen her here. Do ya know her?”
    “Yes, I know her,” the caped crusader replied, “we’ve worked together, before.”
    “Well isn’t that nice, then you’ll be havin’ a good visit, for sure. I’ll see ya again when you’re on your way out.” With a fanfare of clanking and grinding sounds the gate began to open. As the gap became wide enough, Batman moved the Batmobile slowly forward over the crunching gravel. As soon as he was clear, the gate reversed its motion and continued to clank and grind as it closed. About three hundred feet from the entry gate another officer waited in front of a parking space marked VISITOR. Batman pulled into that space, hopped out, and gave the verbal command for the closing of the canopy.
    “Good evening Batman, I’m Officer Lopez. I've been asked to escort you to Warden Borg’s office.”
      The Caped Crusader thanked the officer, and began to walk with him through the massive, medieval looking, entrance. Glancing up, Batman nodded at the words carved into the wood at the top of the doors. “TIME HEALS ALL WOUNDS”.
      As they walked through the entry into the reception area, Batman asked Officer Lopez, "How long have you been employed here at Arkhum?”
    Lopez replied, “I’ve been here for about five months. This place is like the old granola joke, Batman."
    “I’ve heard it,” Batman responded. “Full of fruits, flakes and nuts.”
    “Right,” Lopez nodded. “Warden Borg’s office is down this hallway, to the right. It isn’t far.” As they arrived, Lopez knocked on the door and then peered in. “Warden Borg, Batman is here to see you.”
    The voice came from inside, “Send him in please, and thank you Officer Lopez.” Lopez stepped back and opened the door for Batman. “Pleased to meet you, sir. Have a pleasant visit.” Batman thanked Lopez and entered Warden Borg's office.
      Fourteen years earlier Borg had been Gotham City's Mayor when the city prepared to celebrate its 200th anniversary. At the time, crime boss, Carl Grissom had been terrorizing the citizen’s of Gotham.
      A corrupt, older giant of industry in Gotham City, Grissom had become intimately involved with a beautiful young model, named Alicia. Unfortunately, for her, and ultimately for Grissom, he learned that she was canoodling with none other than his right hand man, Jack Napier.
      Grissom arranged a police sting, to take place at Axis Chemicals. Napier would be arrested or killed. Attempting to escape, Napier was struck in the face by a bullet, permanently disfiguring him. Moments later he tumbled into a vat, accidentally filled during the police sting with a lethal mixture of nuclear waste and toxic industrial chemical preservatives.
      As Napier died in that vat, the Joker was born. It was the Joker who returned to Grissom’s penthouse that night and shot him repeatedly, laughing harder with each pull of the trigger. His next act was to take over Grissom’s businesses and gang of criminals.
    The subsequent wave of crime ruined Borg's political career. Batman always appreciated the cooperation offered by Borg and the way he professionally handled all challenges, refusing to point fingers at the corruption within the police department. After the death of Police Lieutenant Eckhardt, another of Napier’s victims, and a number of other corrupt members of the crime task force, the truth was made known, thanks to the investigative reporting of Alexander Knox and Vicki Vale’s documentary photography.
      Although exonerated from all blame, the Mayor’s political career was toast. Once the public decides you’re a crook, or incompetent, it doesn’t matter how much you scream about your innocence. Batman orchestrated the appointment of Borg as warden at Arkham Asylum.
      Borg sat behind a large wooden desk. Behind him, an arched window afforded a view, through black iron bars, of the lighted courtyard at the front of the asylum. “Batman,” he said, standing and smiling broadly. “What a pleasure it is to see you again my friend. You just missed seeing Dr. Meridian. She’s gone up to the fourth floor to attend to Edward Nygma. I understand that you also wish to see Edward. Do you think that would be wise? You know he believes that he is you about half of the time? He’s even torn up his bed sheets to make a pitiful Batman costume.” The Warden shook his head.
    “That is sad, Warden, but what about the other half of his waking hours, when he doesn’t claim to be Batman? What's he like during those periods? If he's up to it, and I understand that he may not be, we could use his research abilities. He may be able to do a real service for the people of Gotham City. Is he dangerous to others or to himself?"
      “No, he doesn’t seem to be, but faced with an attack on what he views as reality, who knows how he might react?” I would really appreciate it if you would confer with Dr. Meridian first, to see how she feels about Edward seeing you. If she says okay then it’s fine by me.”
    “Very well. Could I go up there now?” Batman asked.
    The warden pressed a red button on his desk phone and a voice was heard, “Yes, Warden?”
    “Batman would like to visit Edward Nygma, on the fourth floor. Would you escort him to the visitor’s reception area there, and have Dr. Meridian meet with him first, please?”
    “I’ll be right there,” came the reply.
      Batman thanked the warden and wished him well. He was reaching for the doorknob when the door opened and another officer looked in.
      The officer stepped back, momentarily awed by the sight of the famed crime fighter. “Batman, I’m Tim Bagwell. I’m here to escort you to the fourth floor reception area. If you’ll please come with me sir, Dr. Chase Meridian will be meeting us there.” Batman turned, waved to the warden and then went out into the hall with his new escort.
    “How long have you been here, Tim?” Batman asked.
    “Just six weeks, sir. This is a second job for me. I work on the Gotham Police force, full time. Gotta try to make ends meet, you know. Do you mind if I tell you something in confidence, sir?” Batman nodded, curious as to the young man’s intent. Bagwell surprised him by saying, “That Dr. Meridian is one hot-looking babe. I mean really hot.” They entered an elevator. Old and musty smelling, the walls inside were padded, but torn.
    “You don’t say?” replied Batman with a smirk on his face. He wasn’t going to tell Tim how well he knew this hot babe. And he hoped she had never told anyone how well she knew him.
    Obviously no longer intimidated with the presence of Batman, Tim continued as if he were talking to one of his drinking buddies, “Oh yeah, she’s major hot and I think she likes me. You know what I mean?”
    As they reached the third floor the elevator’s mechanical voice said, “Third floor. Going Down.” They stepped off the elevator, turned left and walked down a long Hallway, lined with floor to ceiling high windows on the left, while on the right, every 50 feet or so, a door with a name and title printed on opaque, milky white glass would appear. One said Dr. Voss, the next said Therapy, next came X-ray, then Supplies, followed by the Visitors' Reception area. 
      The door opened to reveal an area just large enough for about ten chairs, a water fountain, a coke machine, a coffee bar, and a wall mounted TV, which was set to continually show an informational DVD, regarding mental health treatments and the advancements that had been made recently at Arkham. In the middle of the room there was a plain, black phone sitting on a wooden desk, which was pushed up against a wall with a clear Plexiglas center. On the other side, a matching desk was visible with a matching phone. 
    “Where’d she go?” wondered Bagwell, out loud. “She was supposed to meet us here, Batman.”
    At that moment the door to the reception room opened again and Dr. Chase Meridian walked in looking every bit as good as Tim had said and as Batman remembered. Dressed professionally, she wore a white lab jacket over a light blue jumpsuit. Tossing her strawberry blonde hair with a shake of her head, she fixed her piercing blue eyes on Batman. “Sorry to keep you boys waiting,” she said. “I understand you wanted to visit Edward Nygma, is that correct?”
    “That’s right,” Batman answered. “As you know, Edward was at one time the best and brightest mind in the research and development department at Wayne Enterprises. I know he is not yet in full control of his mental faculties at all times, but I have a good reason for needing his abilities and I'm hoping you'll allow me to see him for a few minutes to ask him if he —”
    “No, you can’t see him,” the Doctor interrupted. “He is in no way ready to have Batman stand in front of him. Batman is his delusion. He believes he is you. If you challenge that delusion at this point, the minimal progress I’ve been able to make could be wiped out completely. He could digress to a point even further from reality than when we began working with him. If you were anybody other than Batman, the delusion wouldn't be threatened. But I could not allow Edward to face Batman.”
    Visibly frustrated by the Doctor's reply, Batman asked, “Can’t you give him some kind of medication that would sedate him to the point that —”
    “Are you able to hear properly through that mask?" Dr. Meridian put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. "I said no, nix, that’s a veto, thumbs down, understand? Batman will not be allowed to stand in front of Edward Nygma and that's . . .”
    The Doctor's words trailed off as she realized Edward watched from the other side of the room, through the Plexiglas. Standing behind a desk, he wore a look of shock and disbelief on his gaunt face. His hair, which stuck out in all directions, looked like it hadn’t been combed or cut in months. It might have been comical if the expression on this obviously demented individual weren't so tragic.
      “Oh my God, no!” Dr. Meridian said through clinched teeth. She hung her head and shook it furiously. “I told them to wait until I rang them to bring him out!”
      Batman stood directly in front of the Plexiglas and honestly didn’t know whether to move quickly out of sight or to just stand there.
      Doctor Meridian whispered, “Don’t move.”
      Batman obediently froze like a statue.
      On the other side of the Plexiglas Edward Nygma froze in exactly the same pose, one hand on his hip, the other arm hanging loosely at his side.
      Dr. Meridian suggested, “If he moves, you move. You’ve got to act like you are the reflection in a mirror.”
      Edward moved his hand, which had been on his hip, up to scratch his unshaven, stubbly chin.
      Batman duplicated the move perfectly.
    Edward bared his teeth and grinned at the glass.
    Batman mimicked him.
    Standing off to the side, officer Bagwell raised a hand in front of his face to stifle a laugh as Dr. Meridian turned and flipped a switch on the wall, marked “intercom.”
    “Edward," she asked. "How do you like the new experimental mirror we installed? It let’s you see yourself as well as the people on the other side. Do you like it?” She waited for an answer. Edward’s eyes gleamed as he turned sideways and stuck out his chest, striking his idea of a manly pose.
    “Like it? I love it!” he declared, facing the glass again, raising his arms and flexing his puny biceps. “It looks like my exercise and conditioning program is really paying off!” I did six pushups this morning, you know!” Now he stuck his tongue out at the glass and hopped on one leg, supporting himself partially with the edge of the chair behind the desk.
      Hopping in unison, Batman whispered to the doctor, “You’ve got to stop this, Chase, please.”
      Bagwell couldn’t hold the laughter in any longer, he exited the room before exploding noisily in the hallway.
    A look of mischief grew on Doctor meridian's faace as she encouraged her patient, “Hop on the other leg, Edward, you mustn't exercise one leg more than the other or your muscles won’t develop evenly.”
      Immediately, in response to the doctor’s suggestion, Edward changed to the opposite leg and continued hopping.
    “You know,” Edward huffed and puffed as he exercised, “I’m really feeling much better today, Dr. Meridian. You can’t keep me in here forever. Gotham City needs its caped crusader! I have places to go, people to save, and villains to capture!”
    “We're constantly evaluating your progress, Edward. Don’t you think you should try some jumping jacks, now?” Edward began flapping his arms down to his sides and then above him, while scissoring his legs wide apart and then back together.
      Batman flashed the doctor a classic look that could kill, as he continued to mimic Edward’s every move.
    Becoming short of breath, Edward wheezed, “Whew boy, it’s getting kind’a hot in here. I think I’ll just remove my mask —”
    “No, Edward,” came the doctor's quick reply. He wasn’t really even wearing a mask, but she couldn’t risk him realizing his mirror image was the real Batman, so she said, “You look so heroic in your full costume; leave it on please, for me. As a matter of fact, I think you have probably worked out enough today. Guards, would you escort Edward back to his room?”
    “So soon? Why, I was just getting started! But wait, is that the Bat signal I see out the window? I must leave! To the Batmobile!” Like Mikhail Baryshnikov in the Bolshoi Ballet, he bounded away, back to his padded room with the guards in pursuit. He was right about the Bat signal. The search light's bright circle around the image of a bat could be seen clearly through the window.
      Batman’s cellular phone failed to receive the call due to interference from the magnetic resonance imaging machines and the other medical devices being used in various areas of the asylum. The Bat signal was rarely used these days, but when he could not be reached via his cellular phone, Batman had asked Commissioner Gordon to continue to use the searchlight with the shape of the bat in it. If he had been injured and could not respond it would also alert those that he employed that he might be in trouble.
    “I need to go,” Batman said, “Doctor it was good to see you.” Officer Bagwell had gotten control of himself once again and had just reentered the room when Batman said, “Tim, we had better hurry, please escort me to my vehicle.”
      Wondering what was up, the guard turned around and headed back towards the door, but glanced back just in time to see Dr. Meridian wink playfully and blow a kiss. Never considering that the kiss could have been for Batman, the smitten guard smiled to know that his charm was winning the Doctor over.
    Outside and headed down the hall, Tim blurted out, “Did you see that, Batman, I can’t believe it! I told you she liked me, man. She had her eyes on me the whole time and then she blew me a kiss as we left! Oh man, oh man, oh man, she blew me a kiss! Hey, so what’s up? How come you’re in such a hurry to leave? Sorry I left the room for a minute, there, but I just about busted out laughing, watching you hop and do those jumping jacks! Man, that was funny!”
      “I’m glad you were enjoying it, Tim. Personally, I didn’t see much humor in it.”
      “Oh, sorry Batman. I didn’t mean to put you down, or make fun of you, or anything. I guess you had to do it. Doctor Meridian told you to. But if you could have seen your face...” He erupted into laughter. Batman was silent during the ride down in the elevator. The only sound was the occasional snicker from Tim and then the mechanical voice when they reached the bottom floor, “Ground floor, going up.”
    Once outside of the asylum Batman raced to the Batmobile. Dropping into the form fitting seat he gave the verbal command for the cellular phone to dial Commissioner Gordon. Relieved to hear Batman's voice, Commissioner Gordon sighed and athen got down to business. “Batman, thank goodness! We have a burglary in progress at Gotham Intercontinental Airport.” 
    Batman asked, “What’s been stolen, commissioner?”
    The answer was not the usual jewelry or car theft that Batman expected. You could hear the concern in the commissioner’s voice, “It’s a fighter-jet, Batman. It’s the new F-27 that was on display. It can be flown by remote radio control or by a pilot in the cockpit.”
    “I’m on my way, commissioner.” Batman had a decision to make. Should he race to the Batplane, which would have the firepower to defend Gotham City if the F-27 became airborne, or should he head straight to the airport to try to prevent the hi-jacking? He decided to head to the airport, but alerted Richards to have his mechanics ready the Batplane for combat should the need arise. The cordial smile on the face of officer Muldoon disappeared as he saw the Batmobile rocketing towards the slowly opening gate. He slammed his fist down on the button labeled “EMERGENCY OPEN”.
      The gate lurched and began to move faster, but it was going to be close. Muldoon squatted down and hid under the console of the booth’s control board, fearing for his life and fully expecting to hear a terrific crash. Instead he heard the rush of wind and the sound of a powerful engine flying by, followed by the pinging of gravel pellets against the glass thrown up by the massive, churning tires. He raised his head and peered over the edge of the console in time to catch a glimpse of the Batmobile’s taillights receding in the distance at an incredible pace.
      Shaking his head in amazement and relief Muldoon gave a half-hearted wave and said, “We’ll be seein’ ya, Batman. Sure, and we’ll be lookin’ forward to your next visit.”

Ready for the next chapter?

Batman: Revenge, Chapter 5  (13+) Battling the F-27, Intimidator #1468326 by George R. Lasher