Baroness already knew where to find the goons. She had ditched the nylons, black satin pencil skirt and white silk blouse and broken out her subtle fighting gear; Black over the knee boots, black Kevlar legging with fake leather outer, black combat shirt, black leather plate carrier and she tossed a black leather trench coat over it. She had a pocket full of the special smart phones to hand out to her recruits, now she just needed to recruit them. She stopped in front of a run down warehouse. This would do nicely.
*
Barbara did her Pilates in front of her Oracle terminal in the Clocktower. It had been over a year since Barbara had had the surgery to fix the damage that the Joker had done to her, but she continued to serve as Oracle and have Steph run around as Batgirl. An alert popped up on the monitor. Barbara reached up and opened the alert box. She then tapped the microphone line button.
“We got a shot fired from the remote sensor we put in the closed down Dagget Industrial campus,” Barbara called out to the vigilantes.
“Busy,” Dick called back over the comm link, “Got a domestic involving explosives and flying frying pans.”
“I got a liquor store,” Steph called back.
“I am about a half an hour away,” Tim called.
“I will be there in ten,” Batman intoned.
*
“Any further updates?” Batman asked over the radio link.
“Nothing since the one shot Boss,” oracle responded.
“Alright,” Batman switched off the link.
Batman started mentally logging everything he found. Boot prints, non-standard size, with a custom Jungle tread that made a strange sort of cobra pattern. Probable female based on size and gate. Walks over grass to docking bay. Partial hand print on door, grain pattern… Leather or leather textured synthetic glove. The jungle boots walked down the dusty and dirty side hall to the main storage area. Batman rushed to the side of the figure crubbled on the concrete floor. The figure had been dead for a few minutes now.
He recognized the face.
“Malcom,” Batman muttered, “How many times did I warn you the drug trade would get you killed?”Batman returned to full detective mode.
Stab wound on right torso just missing the kidney, signs of necrosis around the wound. Revolver in his left hand, carried over hand, not hand on grip. Chiappa Rhino, same type as news footage of Harley Quinn and Joker using after their brake out of Belle Reaves. Malcom was laying to the right of a dust angel, form the size and shape of it a shapely woman about five foot six inches tall and wearing a trench coat or similar over garment. Victim’s right hand tests positive for gunshot residue… Victim shoots at jungle boot lady she falls back, Victim goes to search her and is stabbed… Victim wouldn’t have bleed out in under three minutes from the gut… Have autopsy screen for toxicology based on necrosis at wound site. Jungle boot lady gets up and walks forward puts a bag on the floor, then walks towards north exit. Four men were present watching, they file out past Malcom, the bag and then out the north exit. A pair of go-go boots walk over to Malcom then to the bag spot and run out the north exit… Racheal.
*
The balcony window was left open, almost like she expected him.
“Malcom,” Batman intoned before stepping into the light.
The brown haired young woman didn’t look up. She sat on her bed in a tank top and panties cradling her knees looking at her toes.
“Yes I watched him die…” She whispered after a moment.
“Tell me what happened,” Batman commanded.
“Sure,” she said closing her eyes, “You already know, so what the fuck? We got together to hang out, Malcom was showing off a new piece. Some woman in a hooded robe walks in and askes for the leader of us amateurs. Malcom takes offense to that and steps up. She calmly tells him she will kill him, so he shoots her in the chest. Of course she keels over, Malcom went to frisk her for… you know… guns, drugs, cash, whatever. Then he is sputtering and falls over next to her and she is getting up pulling a knife out of his side. She then tells us that Malcom is already dead, and that if we do anything to fuck her we are next. Doesn’t matter, nobody got a good look at her because of the hood and she was had one of those voice changers like for people hiding their identities of TV.”
“The bag?” Batman prodded.
“Malcom had just scored some… stuff… you know, to sell on the street. When we left I grabbed the bag and tossed it over a bridge. You know what I mean?”
“Why didn’t you take the gun?” Batman asked.
“As soon as Malcom shot it, it jammed, he tried to double tap the bitch… but,” Racheal trailed off.
Batman stepped out leaving her with her sorrows. He made a mental note to have the police forensics look into the revolver as well as toxicology screening.
*
The elevator doors opened right at eleven A.M. on the dot and Bruce was assaulted by the racket of some European 80’s power metal band cascading out of Ana’s office. He could see her dancing about her office with handfuls of papers throw her open office door.
“Miss Gates, Miss GATES,” Bruce called again to get the executive assistant’s attention from her computer, “What’s going on?”
“Sorry mister Wayne I was trying to concentrate,” Miss Gates said, “She came in at about eight with coffee for everyone and has been giddy as a school girl blasting her ‘music’ as she works.”
Bruce shook his head and went to the open office door.
“Ah Mister Wayne, how nice to see you! I think I found an extra hundred thousand for the children’s hospital!”
“Ana,” Bruce gestured, “Please turn the music down.”
Ana moon walked back to the small stereo and hit the pause button.
“You are rather giddy,” Bruce arched an eye brow, “More than finding a spare pile of cash you don’t get to keep giddy.”
“Mister Wayne,” Ana smiled like a cat that ate the canary, “What is the foundations policy on discussing one’s personal sex life again?”
“Wait till after work?” Bruce felt like that was a trick question somehow.
“Well then Mister Wayne,” Ana laughed a haughty laugh, “Let us just say that I had a abend wunderbar!”
“Ah,” Bruce was left in a lurch, “I have a number of calls to make so I am going to ask you turn the music down and lets just close this door, ok?”
“Ja Mister Wayne,” Ana smiled.
*
Ana about broke out into laughter at the confused look Bruce Wayne had on his face. Clearly he was expecting her to be either some sort of prude or a gold digger targeting him. The cheerful act tossed him for a loop. But more importantly, she had already sunk her claws into the office staff here. They all gladly drank the tainted coffee and were being bombarded with the Cold Slither albums all morning. While they were drooling into their laps an hour ago she had put on a special screen saver to bombard their addled minds with subliminal messages declaring their loyalty to Ana, The Baroness and her Cobra organization. She had murdered that idiot last night, gotten his entire gang to take a special Cobra smart phone that would pump them with subliminals to program their obedience as her first batch of Vipers and an urge to start kidnaping others and brainwashing them to be vipers as well. She would need to get a shorter skirt tonight, and remember to leave another button open on her blouse tomorrow.