Forgotten Treasure
As the limo drove along its course two other events where happening. The first even was taking place in the dark catacombs deep in the bowels of Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. A security guard making his hourly rounds found several orderlies huddled in a corner, cringed and weeping. As he approached they began to scream at him, trying to chase him away. He could see the wide-eyed terror in their eyes and quickly sounded an alarm.
The other event was taking place cross town in the office of the newly-appointed police commissioner Jim Gordon. He was looking at a note that had arrived only minutes before.
Riddle me this all you Gotham Paragons of Virtue
North South East or West
None of them can be the best
Within the four we’ll hide the five
If all goes well none survive
Undo the riddle as best you can
And maybe one will sing again
Gordon sighed as he set the note down on his desk and lifted the phone. His fingers dialed the number he had come to know all too well. Moments later his dower face became even more sullen.
“Go light the signal” he said wearily to his chief of police. “We need him now.”
As the dark clouds above Gotham lit up with the bright spotlight that carried the silhouette of a bat on it Bruce Wayne was exiting the very casino the boys were on their way to. His eyes caught the sight but he managed to remain cool and collected so the three ladies he escorted would have no suspicions. He directed them towards the impeccable silver Bentley parked towards the entrance and opened the door. As the last entered showing him a glimpse of much more leg than he wanted to see at the moment he shut the door behind her without getting in.
“Alfred” he said to the driver, “would you bring these ladies to their hotel for me? Something has just come to my attention. I’ll be taking the other car.”
He smiled as the car drove off before he re-entered the casino and got in the elevator to the top floor. He forced the locked door open that said Roof on it and opened the briefcase he had taken from the Bentley. Seconds later the sleek, black vehicle that Gotham had come to call the Batmobile was streaking towards the casino piloted by a computer that drove better than ninety percent of the human population did. Twenty minutes later Batman stood in Gordon’s office reading the same note.
“Arkham confirms the Riddler has escaped?” he asked.
Jim Gordon lowered his eyes before answering the black suited avenger. The Batman had been suggesting that current containment in Arkham was deficient and this proved it.
“Yes Batman” he sighed. “Riddler along with the Scarecrow, Two-Face, and Poison Ivy. They think it was the work of the Joker. He managed to fill the wing with Scarecrow’s hallucinogenic gas and got them all out. We’re reviewing the surveillance tapes now.”
Batman considered delivering a well-deserved ‘I-told-you-so’ but decided to hold it for later. He read and re-read the short riddle over and over, trying to decipher it. The Riddler always left these teasing notes and Batman had always been able to figure them out but this one was different. It had to do with directions but he was lost after that. He was lost until the phone rang and Jim Gordon’s face turned an ashen white.
“It’s for you Batman” he said holding the phone out. “It’s him.”
The Plot Unfolds
Batman took the phone from Gordon and placed the receiver to his ear. He could hear the labored breathing he knew all too well on the other end of the call.
“Hello flying rodent” said the voice. “Have you figured out my cohort’s little riddle yet? Or has your brain come to yet another grinding halt? I can fix that for you…I just need to take it out and apply some lubricant and before you know…”
“Get to the point you diseased maniac” said Batman gruffly. “What do you want now Joker?”
The laughter on the phone could be heard by everyone in the office and lasted for a good two minutes before its author was composed enough to speak again.
“I don’t want anything Blunderman” said the Joker. “My associates wanted your liver on a stick but I had calmed them down but now, I don’t know. At any rate there is a man named Simon walking towards the office right now. He’ll explain what the problem is and then I will call back with the solution.”
As Batman placed the receiver in the hook, the office door opened and a young patrolman announced a Mr. Simon Cowell needed to speak with Commissioner Gordon. Even as he was speaking the gruff musical entrepreneur was pushing his way past the young man.
“Commissioner Gordon?” he asked as he entered the room. “Which of you is Gordon?”
“I’m Jim Gordon Mr. Cowell” answered the slightly annoyed policeman. “How can I help you?”
Gordon had purposely left out the part where the Joker had told them he was coming in. He listened as the manager told him of the exit his band made after the show and that they had not shown up at either their hotel or the casino for the photo shoot. He threw a cell phone that looked as if it had caught fire on the desk explaining that when he called the number of the driver a signal of some kind sounded through the phone and it began to smolder.
Batman had taken a place along the way and had so far escaped the roving eye of Simon. He wanted the man to speak without seeing him and being distracted and he wasn’t disappointed.
“I want my boys found now Commissioner” he said, “or I’ll sue you, your department, and your whole damned city! Those boys are worth a fortune to me!”
“They’re probably worth more to their parents” said Batman from behind the angry manager. “We have a lead and I’ll be looking into it.”
“BLOODY HELL!” shouted Simon as he jumped back from the sight of the man in black. “I thought you were a bloody legend.”
Batman allowed a rare smile at the man’s shock and moved to take the phone as it began to ring and Gordon answered it once more. Gordon nodded towards him and hand it off while Simon stared in disbelief.
“Good thing he said they were boys” chuckled the Joker. “I was thinking of taking the one I had. Glad I didn’t, I’m sure I would have been quite disappointed. I thought Niall was a girl’s name.”
“You have him Joker, where are the rest?” asked the dark knight. “And what do you want for their return? Me?”
“Now why would I want you Barfman?” he answered. “You can’t sing. Or can you? It doesn’t matter…they can’t sing either. No, no, no, I don’t want you or money or real estate. I don’t want anything. Well, I do want something…I want to hear the shattering hearts around the world. I want to hear a billion little girls crying. And I want that pompous jackass Cowell brought to his knees.”
The Batman turned a glance towards Simon as he listened to the Joker. One look told him that if this maniac delivered the band to him in five baggies tonight he would just go find five other boys tomorrow.
“He’s not that kind Joker” responded Batman. “He’s a lot like you when it comes to compassion.”
“Nonsense Batman!” sounded the chilling voice. “He can kneel. Watch!”
A split second later the glass shattered behind Gordon and the bullet whizzed by his elbow in its down-ward trajectory towards Simon Cowell’s leg. A moment later the manager was indeed on the floor grasping the wounded leg and screaming like a madman. Of all the men in the office only Batman was still on his feet.
“See? I told you he could kneel.” laughed the Joker before turning deadly serious. “Here are the options Batman. I have Horan as I’ve said. The other four are in the hands of my associates. Each one is hidden somewhere in the city. At eight o’clock the five of them will cease to exist. You have less than eight hours you flying jerk. Then the music stops.”
“Why are you doing this Joker?” asked Batman. “This is sick even for you.”
The phone erupted in the maniacal laughter of the most dangerous man Gotham had ever seen for the second time that night.
“Why am I doing it?” he laughed. “Be
cause it sounds like fun you moron! Ta-ta Batman.”
As the dark avenger hung the phone up again he looked at the shattered window behind Gordon and knew his first stop would be the upper floors of the Gotham Daily Gazette offices across the street. He nodded to Gordon as he unclipped the grappling hook blaster from his belt and sent the strong line across the street and solidly into the wall. A moment later his dark silhouette flew soundlessly across the street and into an open window.
“A video camera and a remote controlled .22 rifle.” he thought. “This is worthless. I better get moving. There’s a lot of ground to cover and at 8AM the world loses a bad band but five mothers lose their sons. Not acceptable.”
The P.O.V.s
Liam’s P.O.V.
When I woke up my head was buzzing like a beehive. All I could remember from the night before was the limo doors locking and then some crazy green gas filling the car. Now this. Waking up in some place that looks like a warehouse tied to a chair. Really? This was bullshit as far as I was concerned. Simon has been a bit slack in his job and once he paid the ransom he would hear my mouth. I guarantee that.
“Hey! You over there! Yes in the green jumpsuit. Let me out of here. You have a daughter? I’ll get you tickets to our next show and personally autograph anything she wants. Come along mate, the birds love me!”
“Can you hear me???”
Riddler’s P.O.V.
Why can’t this kid shut his mouth for more than a minute??? Ever since he woke up he’s been going on and on like anybody cares. In two minutes I’m going to turn him around so he can see the giant axe behind him. I’ll explain the mechanism to him…how at the stroke of eight the clock will run out and it will trigger a signal for the machine to pull a pin. When the pin comes out the axe is let loose and whatever is in that chair…how can I say this delicately…whatever is in that chair multiplies. One becomes two if you get my meaning.
Heee heeeee heeeee…what a delicious day this will be. Now to work on my riddle for the Caped Crapper when he gets here…
Harry’s P.O.V.
Wow Simon really screwed this one up. This crazy chick somehow got me out of the car and has me tied up in this apartment. I bet she’ll want me to do her, you know…some of the old Cheshire Charm tossed her way. That’s it mate. A few kisses and a nibble or two should get her in my corner. I can’t blame her for what she did. She just happened to be more successful than the other one million who wanted to do this. And now that I look at her she is kinda hot. She must be in her thirties or maybe even older. But she’s such a flaming MILF.
“Hey old Mum! I know you think you need to keep me tied but you don’t. I’m sort of happy you have me. I don’t know why but I really want to…know you better if you get my drift. Really…I might even fancy a turn in the sheets with you. Come on babe…you’d be daft not to.”
Poison Ivy’s P.O.V.
The boy in the chair just drones on and on. I suppose he’s cute in some strange way and I can see in his eyes that my pheromones are tickling his fancy. There wouldn’t be a problem I suppose if I were to give him a nice show before his time arrives. Yes, a bit of the old strip-tease and then I’ll…
Did he just call me old mum??? That cheeky little twit! We’ll see if he can buy Clarisse off with his charm. Let’s see who the screamer is when her tentacles take hold of him and she pulls him into her bulb and fills it with her digestive juices. He’ll be a pile of goo in less than fifteen seconds…not even enough time for that peanut-sized brain to comprehend what is happening.
Zayn’s P.O.V.
Oh man how did I end up here? This is like the side of a fucking mountain! Jesus, Simon fucked up this time! I can’t even see the bottom! OH MY GOD! MY FOOT IS SLIPPING!
Scarecrow’s P.O.V.
Hahaha. Just look at this idiot. One little whiff of my gas and he’s bolted himself to that wall. His fear of heights is doing him in. Maybe later I’ll introduce him to another little scenario…I’ll lead him out onto the ledge and explain it’s the way down. The way the wind blows around the thirty-fifth floor here he won’t get more than four steps off before he slips. Then his fans can come pick him up with a sponge. No wonder I might just be the smartest of the arch-villains Joker has assembled. I bet none of the others are going to look suicidal.
“Here Zayn…have another drink and a cigarette. The way off the mountain will be shown soon enough. I think I hear the shurpas returning now…”
Hehe…with my mask on he thinks I’m his mate Louis. Doesn’t say much for him does it…
Louis’s P.O.V.
Would you look at this shit? I don’t know who this guy is but half of him looks like he was dipped in the deep fryer at Nando’s. The one down the road from Old Trafford Stadium in Manchester. Mmmm…just thinking about it reminds me how hungry I am. But do I want this nasty looking gent to bring me food? I don’t think so. And why the hell does he keep looking at me and flipping that damned coin?
“Any chance of getting some food mate? Listen…I know what ever you’ve asked for Simon will pay. I’m his favorite you know. I can’t tell you how many times he’s told me that the others are nothing without me there. He’ll pay for sure.”
Great…he can’t talk either. I guess if he can’t talk he probably can’t hear. I don’t even see an ear on that side. Goddamn you Simon, hurry with that payment.
Two Face’s P.O.V.
Heads I cut his tongue out. Damnit…tails. Heads I put a bullet through the place where his brain should be. Damnit…tails. Heads I don’t wait for eight o’clock and I feed him into the wood chipper now. Damnit to hell! Tails again! Does this fucking coin even have a heads to it???
But it doesn’t matter. I can wait. I have patience. I have will power.
Jesus, he’s talking again. What the hell is a Nando’s?
Heads I break his kneecaps. Damnit…
Where’s my phone? I’m calling Bruce Wayne to see what his friend is up to…
Chapter 4: All Fall Down
Batman was driving deeper into the city as well as deeper into frustration. Every stop, every lead, every old hide out netted absolutely zero results. He looked at the time. Six fifteen. Time was rapidly running out for the five boys. He still had a list of haunts to check but how could he possibly hope to find them all. Ahead in the gloom he saw the tail light of a motorcycle and he swung wide to the left to pass it.
Just as he crested it the drive veered right into his path causing him to crank the steering wheel hard. The armored car’s weight threw it into a spin and it took all of his skills to keep what little control that he could. Moments later, amid a shower of dirt, rocks, and other debris the Batmobile came to a stop in a small clearing of an even smaller patch of woods. Ahead he could see the motorcycle turning and coming back towards him. Fast.
He hit the switch and his armor lifted around the car. He watched as the bike drew closer and he began to smile. In all of Gotham there was only one person who rode a motorcycle as distinct as his own vehicle was. And only one figure that fit into a leather costume that well.
“Are you on official business Bruce?” asked the woman as she got off the bike. “Or just out looking to drum up business? If it’s business I might have something to interest you.”
“Hello Selena” he said as he exited the car. “You’re looking well. It’s good to see you. You haven’t returned any of my calls you know.”
Her name was Selena Kyle but greater Gotham knew her as Catwoman. She was an enigma, a riddle. Was she good or evil? Nobody knew. Nobody but Batman. He knew her on a different level than the city knew her. They had shared many a night together as Bruce and Selena, two normal people as well as nights together fighting evil. As he looked at her he thought he saw an extra bit of weight on her frame but he was too much of a gentleman to say so.
“Bruce, we really need to talk” she said as if she knew what he saw. “But pleasure before business as it pertains to us. I heard through the grapevine you were looking for Harvey
Dent. I just happen to know where he is.”
It was his first break of the night and he wasted no time in persuading Catwoman to show him the way. He followed the small glare of the single red tail light as she drove at a speed that was a good deal slower than she normally drove. It was six forty-eight when she pulled to the side of a small pasture just past the city limits. Batman brought the car even with her and lowered the window.
“A half-mile ahead Bruce” she said. “You’ll spot a house set back from the road on your left. Dent is in there but I’m afraid he’ll see you long before you’ll see him. Be careful in there…we need to talk to you when this is done.”
As he watched her turn her bike around and disappear on the road behind him he suddenly became aware of what she had said. “We need to talk to you… We…”
He pulled the Batmobile onto the road with a strange smile on his face. The extra weight, referring to herself as we…it all added up to one thing. But for now he had a life to save and he now had exactly one hour to find four other hiding spots.
The road was deserted as he drove on. The house was as Selena had described…wide open. He turned the vehicle into the wide road that led to the house knowing he had been seen the moment he did. He didn’t bother to speed up but stopped at the foot of the house. He lifted the microphone from the car and looked at the home.
“Harvey Dent!” he said, his voice booming from some hidden speaker. “I need you to come talk to me Harvey.”
He waited a few moments and called out again. Nothing. He shut the car off and listened. In the dead calm of a countryside morning he could hear some type of equipment running faintly. Quickly he began to skirt the building remaining as cautious as could be, fully expecting Two Face to leap from every window, doorway, and shadow he encountered. He could make out the sound much louder now and turning the final corner of the house he saw Harvey Dent. He saw the wood chipper. He saw the feet of someone moments before they disappeared into the machine.
He sprang into action as the blood and bits of flesh flew from the top of the machine and scattered along the bushes by the side of the house. Harvey turned in time to see Batman almost on him and fired off a quick shot just before the masked vigilante crashed into him. Moments later as the Batman lunged the handcuffed Dent to his feet the chipper shut down, as it would when nothing more was being fed through. A flock of ravens descended on the field and greedily carried off all that was left of young Louis.