Batwoman: Conquered - 1

They made it to the roof. Not a living soul but the four of them. Clouds overhead, thick and dark. The moonlight was only barely coming through. And with the city lights out for blocks…

Good conditions for a robbery.

The winter air was cold and crisp, sharp in the lungs. Eddie didn’t mind. He preferred it this way. He was used to the chill, from way back since the orphanage. His working hands had adapted. No shivers, no trembles, just solid and steady. He always did his best work at night.

The target was across the way - the penthouse of the building over next. Dark. Empty. Carmine Falcone’s place. One of them, at least.

“So when we get in, we’re looking for a safe?” Asked one of the hired help. Eddie never got his name. Barrel-chested and bald-headed. Bald. That would do. 

Bald lumbered up beside, the grapple launcher slung over one shoulder. He looked at Eddie expectantly.

“It’ll be relatively small.” Eddie told him. “About half your size. Black steel, gold trim. You’ll know it when you see it. But we need to find it quickly.”

“I thought you knew where it was.” Said the second of his band of thieves. Taller than Eddie, just like Bald, but leaner and bearded. Beard looked confused. A common situation with these street thugs.

“I only know the safe is in the penthouse. Where it is specifically… we’ll just have to find out on our own.”

“So we just ransack the place?” Bald asked again. There was an eagerness in his voice now. Unsurprising. These types liked to break things.

“Why do you think I hired you?” Eddie put on a dry grin. The next moment it was gone. “Extra hands will save us time. And we won’t have much. Falcone will have people watching the penthouse.”

“Even though he’s in the joint?” 

Eddie turned from the stone ledge, looking at each of his crew. Bald, Beard, and the third with the neck tattoo. Tat seemed to have the most nerves of the three - the last question had been his. Eddie fought back a grimace.

“Especially because he’s in the joint. A mafia don can’t afford to look weak, even behind bars. Like I said, we’ll need to be fast.”

Beard muttered a curse. He stepped up to Eddie, looking down, frustrated.

“You said this would be an easy job.” The man’s tone was accusing. Like Eddie had lied to them. Utterly preposterous.

Eddie stood his ground, his face never faltering. He’d learned way back the price of showing fear.

“Cracking the safe will be as simple as breathing.” Eddie pressed back. It was not a boast. He looked Beard right in the eyes, making sure the man knew. “The sooner we find it, the sooner I can open it, the sooner we can leave. And we will be leaving as rich men.”

That seemed to quell the three of them. Mostly. 

Tat still looked like he had reservations.

“We’re really gonna fuck over Falcone?”

“Why not?” Bald sniffed. “This is Gotham. If a man can’t keep his shit, he shouldn’t have it.”

A part of Eddie admired the simplicity of the mindset. A small part.

“You’ll be singing a different tune when Falcone has you strung up by your balls.” Tat groused under his breath.

“Enough.” Eddie snapped. “Are you boys in or out?”

Bald and Beard each gave a gruff nod. After a beat, Tat followed up with his own.

“Good.” Eddie snapped his fingers at Bald, gesturing for the grapple launcher. The man handed it over. The device was custom built and crude - but it worked. Eddie built it himself. Pneumatic system, carbon steel hooks, braided cord strong enough to carry them all. 

He brought the launcher up to bear, holding it like a rifle - aiming for the stone ledge that lined the penthouse balcony. 

“You can relax about the safe. This is the hard part.” Eddie said.

He pulled the trigger. There was a THOOM and HISS as the hook shot across the gap. A second later… the sound of steel biting into stone. 

Eddie smirked.

Success.

-  -  -

There were men ransacking Carmine Falcone’s penthouse. From her perch on the tower ledge, Kate could see flashlight beams shining through the windows. She counted four.

Four dumb, unlucky souls. Though Kate had to admit, luck was all about perspective. Bad luck for those four idiots that Batwoman was going to crash their little party. Good luck for them that it was her and not one of Falcone’s boys.

Kate put away her binoculars, rising to stand amidst the watchful gargoyles. Her fellow sentinels.

The city spread out before her, the entire city block plunged into darkness. Batwoman was right at home.

The wind picked up then, catching her cape into a flutter. Beneath her black cowl, blood red lips twitched into a smirk. It was like the world was sending a sign: time to get to work.

Her heart was beating now - she loved the rush. But right when she was about to take that step into open air, her comm device thrummed. In her earpiece sang a familiar ringtone. Personalized.

Maggie.

Standing at the ledge, Kate felt a flash of hesitation. Across the city, home was waiting. Love and warmth. Soft, blonde hair and smooth, perfect skin.

Kate let the call go to voicemail. 

Sorry, babe. Gonna be a little late.

Predator eyes fixed on their prey. Batwoman breathed in. Then she made the jump.

-  -  -

The sound of shattering glass signalled mission failure. 

Chaos had erupted down in the main. The chorus of splintered wood, angry hollers, glass shards cracking under heel. The ringing music of grown men in brawl.

From his spot in the study, Eddie could hear it all. So close, he fumed. He had been so damn close!

Batman. The thought filled Eddie with such deep, visceral anger that he almost couldn’t think. But it had to be him.

Eddie didn’t have the luxury of a tantrum. The plan was shot, his hired muscle wouldn’t last five minutes. The only thing he could do was run - and he didn’t have much time. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d ditched a job. What stung the most was that they never even found the safe.

Eddie’s mind raced as he weighed his options. Going back out over the grapple line was out of the question. He had to escape through the ground floor. That meant elevator or stairs. No way was he scaling down the outside. First, he needed to get out of the damned penthouse.

Another crash sounded from outside the study. Angry shouting, cursing - at least two of his hired muscle were still in the fight. If nothing else, they made for a good distraction.

Eddie shut off his flashlight, taking only a few precious seconds to let his eyes adjust to the dark. Then, on silent feet, he crept out into the hall.

The raucous fighting continued to ring through the apartment. Good cover for him. Just as long as he stayed out of sight.

“Fucking bitch!” Snarled one of the hired hands.

“Grab her, damn it! Fucking grab her!” Snapped another.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest relaxed. It wasn’t Batman. Just one of his little helpers. Batgirl, from the sound of it. Much better odds against her. A part of Eddie felt something else. A pang in his gut. Disappointment.

He pushed it aside, kept on through the dark, hugging the wall as he made his way towards the foyer.

Another shout, followed by a deep rattle as somebody impacted something. A pained groan after that. Another meathead out of the fight.

Eddie’s window was closing. He moved faster.

He steeled his nerves as he prepared to pass by the living room where they first broke in. He knew he would have to make a break for it. Eddie came to an open archway and peeked in.

Beard was the last goon standing. Facing off against… not Batgirl. Not Batgirl at all.

It was just his luck that the clouds broke as he went to look. Or maybe it was serendipity.

She was shadow cast in moonlight - woman cast all in black. The only breaks in her dark form was her deathly pale skin… and the shocks of red, painted across her lips and flowing out the back of her cowl.

Beard dove for a grapple but he couldn’t get a hand on her. The Batwoman moved like a wraith, living shadow. Formless here, formidable there.

Tall. Powerful. Captivating.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He’d heard rumors of a Batwoman. Never took them seriously. Though, with all of the sidekicks the Dark Knight had been collecting as of late, perhaps he should have.

Beard staggered to his feet and went for another tackle. Lady Justice made short work of him, leveraging his weight and sending the man hurtling face-first into a coffee table. He crashed and tumbled and groaned, astonishingly still moving.

Batwoman turned and followed, her stride slow, confident, assured. Striking. Her gait was not at all a model’s strut, yet he found it sensual all the same. The vision of her silhouette against the Gotham nightscape branded itself in Eddie’s mind.

Then he heard the woman speak.

“Good show. But you’re out of your league.” Low and smoky. Deep voice but still… womanly. “I count three of you. Supposed to be four. Where’s the last guy?”

Beard groaned as he struggled to stand.

“Suck my cock, Bat-bitch.” He spat.

Batwoman drew closer, of a height with Beard’s hunched, swaying form. She was tall. Quite tall for a woman.

“I’ve got a hot date waiting. Save me some trouble and maybe you don’t have to go to the hospital.”

In a show of unfathomable stupidity, Beard took a swing. Batwoman caught it… then did something that had the man on the floor. Howling in pain.

“Fine. The hard way.”

Batwoman went to work. Quickly and quietly, Eddie took his leave.

-  -  -

Three out of four. Not bad. But not good, either. Sloppy work. Next time, she’d have to be faster.

The cold wind whipped at Kate’s face as she glided down, down, down. She made landing on an empty rooftop, boots sliding along the gravel of a closed streetside market.

The three meatheads were bruised, bloodied, but alive. All tied up on Falcone’s penthouse balcony. They were GCPD’s problem now. The one that got away, though… that stung a bit.

Kate brought her arm up, tapping a key on her bat-gauntlet. Her comm device pinged and rang. And rang. And rang. Kate bit her lip, a knot of worry forming in her gut.

The sound of Maggie’s voice had relief rushing n.

“Hey. I called earlier. Were you busy?”

“Just had to clean up a mess. I didn’t leave you hanging too long, did I?”

“I managed.” There was mirth in Maggie’s tone, sweet to Kate’s ears. She could listen to that woman talk for hours. “Tell you what, though: get your pretty ass over here quick and all is forgiven.”

“How quick are we talking?” Kate hummed.

“As quick as you can, Red.”

There was a promise there, bubbling through Maggie’s words. The little taste had Kate smirking. She had something very special to look forward to.

“I’ll be there. You’ll be wearing something pretty for me?”

“Who says I’ll be wearing anything?”

The line went dead, leaving Kate with nothing but anticipation. She drew out her grapple gun, aiming high. There she saw the clouds starting to break. Moonlight shining out. A good sign.

It would be clear the whole way home.

-  -  -

It was a herculean effort going down all those fucking stairs. A race to make it to the ground floor before the Batwoman did. By the time Eddie stumbled out into the alleyway, he was sure his lungs were going to burst.

The cold night air prickled his cheeks. The stench of refuse stung his nostrils.

He made it. Empty-handed and alone, but he made it.

Sucking in the dank, alley air, Eddie slowly made his way towards the street. His legs were sore, his chest ached, but he pushed on. He just needed to make it to the van. He gripped the keys in his pocket, just to make sure they were still there. He only needed to make it across the street-

Crimson hair, flowing cape, standing all in black at the edge of the market rooftop.

Batwoman was there.

Eddie stopped breathing, frozen in place, right there at the mouth of the alley. Dread turned to stone in his gut, sinking, sinking… until he saw that the Batwoman was pacing. Talking. Distracted.

She hadn’t noticed him.

Eddie wanted to laugh. He held it in. His eyes followed the Batwoman, fixing on her tall, dark form, taking in every little movement, every rock of her hips as she strutted back and forth. He watched her ruby red lips move and curl as she talked. 

Talking to who?

Then she drew out something from her belt. A grapple gun, he recognized. Smaller, more compact than his own homemade design. Sleeker. She shot it up into the air, up towards a tower ledge. The line went taut. A second later the Batwoman was shooting up, up into the night sky. The clear night sky.

Luck was on his side tonight. Tentatively.

Eddie’s eyes still followed her, captivated as she glided through the air. Then, in his head, he made a choice. Ignoring his throbbing legs and burning lungs, he bolted across the street for his van.

He didn’t get the safe. But the Riddler would claim a different prize.