The Wingman #3: Blind Man's Bluff

=The Gotham Royal. Exterior==

 

Two Hours Ago

 

Eric Needham sat perched on an adjacent building, surveying the ballroom with a pair of high-tech goggles. Batman, had tasked him with keeping tabs on the False Face Society, punishment, Needham assumed, for helping the Misfits escape the Batcave last month.

 

"You're sure?" Needham paused. When he'd got Batman's call, he had assumed that the Dark Knight was requesting his report on the night's events. Instead, he was met with news about the detective's own investigation; and his breakthrough that tied Day's team of outcasts, to none other than the clown prince of crime.

 

"I am," Batman's deep, commanding voice answered. "Fries wouldn't lie. It's not in his nature, and my meeting with Crane all but confirmed it. I've been a fool... I should've known Joker wasn't done with Walker... He kidnapped his kids two years ago, and attacked Lynns last fall."

 

This was bad. Needham had seen Joker's obsession first hand: He'd been there when the clown strapped Walker's kids up to electric chairs, forcing their own father into a twisted game of Russian Roulette to decide their fates. If Joker was back in Gotham, and he had Walker in his sights again, then no one would be safe.

 

"The prank call I received last week came from a school in Colorado. The one Kuttler was posted at. I spoke to the dean this morning- The Misfits were there, and they took Kuttler with them," Batman continued.

 

"So then, they might already be back in Gotham..." Needham trailed off, as he recognised a pair of familiar faces on the west balcony: Chuck Brown and what looked to be Otis Flannegan, fast asleep on a lounge chair.

 

"It appears so," Batman stated, oblivious to his findings.

 

Needham processed this. "Bats, I need to ask. The Misfits... They have a right to know about the clown. If he's the one behind this-"

 

"He is," Batman's voice replied with unflinching certainty.

 

"Then... shouldn't we be giving them the heads up?"

 

Batman paused. "Negative, Spider. The sooner they know, the sooner Joker puts his plan into effect, and I still don't know what he's got planned. With Spellbinder involved? His resources, and Crane's? It could be anything. Who's to say he won't have the Misfits killed as soon as he learns they're onto them?"

 

"And who's to say they won't be safer knowing what's coming their way?"

 

"No. Not yet," Batman stood his ground. "Not when there's still something I don't understand: Day. How does Day factor into this, why keep him on? Joker could've killed him and used the Fearless compound himself; he's never shied away from theatrics before, he thrives off it; but he hasn't. Why?"

 

"Why? Really? Look, when it comes down to it, to Day? There's nobody who knows the Misfits better than he does," Needham stated, his attention still drawn to the Misfits loitering on the hotel balcony. "Listen, I'm signing off. It's probably nothing, but I'm going to take a closer look."

 

"Nightwing's two blocks away. He can be there in four," Batman offered.

 

"No need," Needham dismissed him. "I got this."

 

==Sionis' Penthouse: Floor 48==

 

Fifteen Minutes Ago

 

The Sionis Penthouse was a flurry of activity; Blake unearthed a large hunting knife out of his dinner jacket; Ten and Li sat together, planning the group's escape route and Sionis paced around the room impatiently, all while a dozen of his best men stood around looking tough, and doing very little.

 

"Anyone seen Ferris? Where the hell has he gone?" Sionis grumbled, as he shoved his bodyguards aside.

 

"No idea, sir," the closest guard responded curtly.

 

"Bah, forget it; gone to start another race riot, I'll bet... Useless! All of you! Useless!" Sionis mumbled. "Just keep this floor secure. There's about a dozen things in here I'd rather the Calendar Creep didn't know about."

 

"Sir. What do I tell your guests?" Li asked. "What do I tell Franco?"

 

"Nothing. And the media doesn't get a sniff of this, neither, understand?" Sionis ordered the assembly. "You hear me? I see anything about this on the front page of the Gazette and I'll give Vale a real headline!"

 

"And when they start asking questions?" Li pondered. "Gunfire... Screams. Someone will want to know what's going on in here."

 

"Then you tell them a fireworks demonstration got out of hand..." Sionis decreed, before turning his attention back to the Misfits. "What I don't understand, is how he even got in. We have guards stationed at every entrance. Clean ones! And believe me, I have dirty ones I can't get rid of: It is really hard to hire people right now, especially in a hands-on job like this one."

 

"He has help: Abner Krill," Ten stated plainly.

 

Sionis scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Oh, come on, what's a krill? That's not even a word!"

 

"Well, in it's more common usage, it's a breed of small crustacean. In this context, however, it refers to an inter-dimensional crackhead," Li elaborated.

 

"Forget I asked... Let's just get a move on," Sionis murmured, as he slid a compartment open on the north facing wall, and retrieved an assault rifle, two pistols, and a Kevlar vest.

 

As he began storing the additional ammunition in his belt, Blake paused. "Dude, think I could have one of those?" he frowned.

 

Sionis smirked, patting Blake on the back dismissively. "You, big guy? I'm sure you can handle yourself well enough," he chuckled.

 

"Well, I suppose that's true," he blushed.

 

"Blake, he's teasing you," Ten stated.

 

"Here, Li, take this pistol. It's lightweight," Sionis continued, handing a small gun to his assistant.

 

"Now, wait. Just wait a second, Mr Smithers over there gets a gun?" Blake protested.

 

"We'll need to take the stairwell," Li ignored him. "They may already be in control of the elevators."

 

"That'll take us right past the Overview Bar. By the time we get there, it'll be crawling with Day's men," Ten pointed out.

 

"It's a risk we'll have to take. The Cowardly Lion can go first. And, you, Buffalo Phil, can cover our backs," Sionis agreed.

 

==The Ballroom: Floor 22==

 

Presently

 

Drury glanced over to the other side of the ballroom as a sudden pang of guilt washed over him: L-Ron, the stubby assistant to Lord Manga was stood in the corner, cradling it's master's severed head in its spindly arms.

 

Drury had barely even known Lord Manga, and in the time that he had, the "Space Salesman" had come across as loud, boisterous and irritating. But L-Ron still cared; he would still grieve and mourn him, and that was enough to pull on his heartstrings.

'No more,' he promised himself. 'No one else is going to die.'

 

He put his finger to his ear and sighed. "Blake, Julian is on the move, and he is pissed. Please tell me you've got Sionis?" he pleaded.

 

"Patience, Killer, patience," Blake responded. "Stairs ain't exactly the blind guy's bread and butter."

 

"Ten?" Drury turned to Reardon for verification.

 

"Yeah, no, Blake tripped," Ten's voice clarified. "We're on the thirteenth floor now. I'll give the word once we're out of the building."

 

"Copy that," Drury replied.

 

"The size of this op, though," Rigger whistled. "I mean, Jules must've been planning this for months. Where'd he even find all these guys? Never struck me as the MySpace sort."

 

"Twitter, definitely Twitter," Flannegan stated. "It's a cesspool. Makes the Blüd look like Metropolis."

 

"'Think he had a Facebook account. Didn't really look into it," Gar responded.

 

"Ooh! Maybe he had lots of dates?" Blake pondered.

 

...

 

"I said had lots of- It was a calendar joke. Merkel would've laughed... I am wasted on you guys."

 

"You're wasted generally," Gar retorted.

 

==Floor 13==

 

As the group approached the passage entrance, Sionis snapped his fingers, giving way for Li.

 

"Li, open the passage," he ordered.

 

Li paused, noting the irregular placement of dust on the keypad. "Sir, it seems there's already been a breach down here," he deduced, as he ran his hand across the keypad to confirm his theory.

 

"Day?" Sionis' eyes narrowed.

 

"Possibly. But I'd need access to the tunnel's cameras to confirm it. More likely, it's-"

 

Mid sentence, Li let out a strained yelp; a black cord had wrapped around his throat, digging into his neck. As a final yell for help escaped his lungs, he was dragged into the darkly lit corridor before them.

 

"That... That was a whip..." Blake whimpered. His face had turned a ghostly white, as panic took hold of him.

 

"What a handsome young man... I can see why you like him!" the whip's owner giggled, as he emerged from the shadows; Li dragged behind him, bound and wriggling. Alive, but evidently shaken.

 

"Jesus. There's two of them..." Sionis scowled, recognising the pointed ears atop the black silhouette.

 

"Oh, Mister Thomas. I was hoping I would see you again," the unnatural, raspy voice giggled.

 

Ten took a cautious step forward, motioning for Blake to stay behind him. "But... You look like... You," Blake said, his voice wavering, his other hand gripped tightly around his knife.

 

"Do you like it? I'm so very pleased," The King of Cats blushed. Why, Mr Abner was very generous- in fact he stopped off in an alternate earth just to get me this lovely new body of mine. Some poor duplicate had to suffer, but from what I hear, he was a monk with a vow of celibacy. He wasn't using his parts, so why shouldn't I?"

 

Blake cleared his throat, as he nudged Ten aside. He spoke clearly, but there was an uncertainty behind his words. "Look, um, pal, if you wanna throw hands, that's fine, but you're making a big mistake. I've put Batman on his ass. I've disarmed Deadshot and-"

 

The King took Blake down with a swift kick to the groin.

 

==West Hallway: Floor 20==

 

"The Calendar Man wants this corridor sweeped," one goon told the other. "He wants everyone accounted for before he activates the bomb."

 

"You got it," another replied. "Whew, score's gotta be huge for a job this big," he smirked greedily.

 

"It ain't about the money, it's all personal for these type-a guys," a third goon confirmed, a note of disapproval in his tone.

 

"Well, I don't trust this Calendar Freak... Y'all think the boss made the right call?" a fourth murmured.

 

"The boss, can hire whoever the hell he wants, so long as I get paid. I'll take orders from anyone. Anyone," the first stated flatly.

 

"Slippery slope, that. You gonna work for Nazis next?" a fifth joked.

 

"If the Nazis pay well, god yeah. Besides. Sure'd beat guarding warehouses, getting picked off by the Ba-"

 

Before he had finished his sentence, he was thrown backwards; his cheek was struck with a small projectile, splattering his face in a thick red liquid.

 

"Shit! Bob's been hit! Anyone see where that came from!"

 

The group turned around. Rolling towards them, pushing a small service cart, was Mitchell Mayo, whistling a theme tune of his own making.

 

"I'm fine- I'm fine," the goon reassured the others as he regained his footing. He put his finger against the red goo and licked it. "See? It's ketchup."

 

"Hold your fire, it's just sauce," the second goon stated, lowering his handgun.

 

Mayo stopped dead. "Just sauce-?" he asked indignantly. "Just sauce?!"

 

With a mighty heave, he pushed the cart forward, knocking over the five goons. As they lost their balance, he took a drinking straw, inserted a peanut in it, and blew the projectile into the second goon's throat. The goon choked, and sank to his knees.

 

Next, he picked up the large saucepan of gravy and threw the burning liquid all over the third and fourth goon's; lastly, he squirted hot sauce into the right's eyes. And all the while, he sang: "Condiment King! Do your Condiment Thing! If you think you're better then you best step in the Condiment Ring. There's a Condiment Ding, as the match kicks off, and I am back on top. It's the Condiment King's, the crowd Condiment Sings. I'm a Misfit, I'm a Misfit and I just won't stop."

 

The first goon, unnoticed by Mayo, reached for his handgun, and recovered his clip. Before he could fire however, a red web wrapped around his arm, forcing him backwards into the waiting fist of Eric Needham.

 

"Missed one," he spoke.

 

"Phew, thanks for the save!" Mayo beamed.

 

"Pleasure. I'm Eric," Needham offered his hand.

 

"Oh, we've met before. A few times actually! I was the guy who witnessed that Iceberg shooting," Mitch stated.

 

"Oh. Y'know, they tortured me for that," Needham replied.

 

"Yeah, sorry about that... They sent this Michael Myers guy after me."

 

"The Shape."

 

"Kinda blobby, I guess. It was really dark."

 

Needham cocked his head to one side.

 

"So, uh. Did you like what I did? With the sauce and all that?"

 

"Yeah," Needham nodded. "It was badass."

 

==Sionis' Penthouse: Floor 48==

 

The King escorted the group back into the Penthouse. Waiting for them, sat behind a desk, was Julian Day. Scattered around the room were the dismembered bodies of Sionis' security team; sliced into pieces by a buzzsaw of some kind, the quartet noticed. "I hope you don't mind. I let myself in. Or rather, Abner did," Day's cold voice announced.

 

Stood at Day's side, Abner Krill waved back cheekily at the group.

 

"I mind," Sionis stated plainly.

 

"Aha. Good evening, Mr Sionis. Despite your best efforts, your day of reckoning has arrived; I see Drury had his finest people guarding you," Day said dryly. "Hello, Thomas. Hello, Reardon... yes? I don't think I've ever actually made your acquaintance. Pity, I think I would have liked you..."

 

"The feeling isn't mutual, I'm afraid," Ten said plainly.

 

Day nodded. "Like I said. Pity... You see, Mr Sionis, your empire is built on fear and blood. But what happens when your loyal subjects are no longer afraid? Ah; you can sit them down beside Calculator, Karl; Yes, over there's good."

 

"Ew," Blake recoiled, as the King sat him down beside the captive Kuttler, followed by Sionis, Li and Ten. "Don't call him Karl. Let's not humanise him."

 

"Noah," Sionis nodded stiffly, electing to ignore Blake's tangent.

 

"Roman," Kuttler responded monotonously.

 

"Bah, what the hell did I ever do to you people anyway?" Sionis snapped at Day, as the King finished tying the group to their chairs.

 

Day, rolled his shoulders. "Me, nothing. But the Misfits, your guests of honour? You've kidnapped them. And tortured them. And mocked them. And here they are, defending you. You! Why are you doing that, by the way?" he snapped at Blake.

 

"Because... Because you're insane, Jules," Blake answered reluctantly.

 

"And you, 'Tom,' are a doormat. Both of you. Trampled on by every two-bit thug in Gotham. And what's worse is that you let them!"

 

He took a deep breath.

 

"You. Reardon. Look at this decadence, this extravagance and for what?" Day urged Ten, confiscating the comms units from Blake and his' ears. "This party... It's a sham. It always has been- thieves and rapists acting like they're anything but, all for the sake of appearances. But I know all their dirty secrets, everything they've hidden. And when Fearless is released, you'll see. The veil will be lifted and they will all rip each other apart. And we will take what's left. What was owed to us."

 

Ten swallowed. "All I see is a broken man, desperate for the love of friends who have outgrown him," he observed.

 

A goon gingerly tapped on the door. "The bomb's in position, boss," he told Day.

 

"Excellent," Day smiled, although his voice wavered slightly. "Tell them to set the timer. One hour will do."

 

"You got it. You should know though; a couple of guys ran into a problem on the lower levels. That condiment freak found a service trolley."

 

"Mitchell Mayo, is not part of my design. He's had his chance: He's been exposed to Fearless for months now, yet he has squandered it. If you see him, kill him."

 

==The Ballroom: Floor 22==

 

Drury glanced over at the ballroom's entrance; four more of Day's goons had moved to the doorway, their guns aimed at the hallway. He glanced back at the Misfits, and nodded.

 

'Now?' Sharpe mouthed.

 

"Now."

 

The door gave way, as Mayo and Needham entered, firing a mix of webs and condiments at the four guards. As the rest of Day's thugs moved in, the Misfits intercepted them:

Gleeful, Sharpe threw his baton against the ground, ricocheting off the floor and colliding with a nearby goon's face.

Drury unholstered his cocoon gun, firing it at an approaching goon, entrapping them against the farthest wall.

Gar, unfastened his tie, and lit the end with his lighter, twirling the flaming fabric at a third guard.

Rigger, discarded his suit jacket and unsheathed his katana, warding off two more thugs.

Otis engaged in fisticuffs with five more goons, using a serving tray and many of the glasses atop it as projectiles against them.

And although he was not prone to violence, Chuck grabbed a table cloth and used it to lasso a nearby henchman.

And in two minutes, the room had been successfully cleared of the Calendar Man's henchmen.

 

Panting for breath, Gar turned to Rigger, and looked down disdainfully at his blade. "Can't believe you kept that thing," he scoffed.

 

"It was a gift!" he snapped back defensively.

 

"Eric?" Chuck approached Needham. "You shouldn't be here. Sionis holds a grudge, believe me. If he sees you-"

 

"He won't," he reassured him. "Besides, you've all got bigger things to worry about right now. Believe me. Everyone accounted for?"

 

"Well, everyone's alive, far as I can tell, if that's what you're asking. Mind I'm not sure about tubby over here," Flannegan admitted.

 

Mayo brushed off the insult, still high off adrenaline. "Here; Kuttler wanted you to have this. Said you'd know what to do," he said, as he reached down his sock, and offered Flannegan the small disruptor.

 

"Gimme," Flannegan ordered

 

"I take it there was a reason you got yourselves captured?" Needham asked Drury.

 

"Course. 'Needed to know Day's plan," Drury stated confidently, albeit unconvincingly.

 

"And?" Needham raised an eyebrow.

 

"Big bomb goes boom boom, who'd have thunk?" Sharpe jumped in sarcastically.

 

"Anyway... From what we can tell, Day's got to the east tower. Meaning he has Sionis," Gar stated.

 

"Good," Needham shrugged dismissively.

 

"Hey, you may have a hate boner for him, but if Sionis dies we don't get paid!" Sharpe argued.

 

...

 

"We... We're getting paid, right?" he asked Drury, his eyes squinting.

 

Drury, elected to ignore him. "He still has Blake and Ten. Kuttler too," he informed Needham. "We need to get them back."

 

"Agreed," Chuck nodded firmly.

 

"Eh, Blake I can give or take..." Flannegan muttered. "Kidding," he added hastily.

 

"Joe-?" Drury frowned. Rigger, was distracted by the unarmed device Day had left behind on the stage.

 

"I'm gonna take a closer look at that bomb's wiring. Way back, when I was in the Society, Gar had me steal the blueprints for Cobb's Cloudburst. If it's anything like that one, I think I should be able to disarm its' twin," he stated.

 

"Understood," Chuck approved. "We'll cover more ground if we split up," he stepped in. "Eric, you're on crowd control, get the guests out of here safely. Mayo, go with him. You seem to work well together.

The rest of us need to get into that penthouse. Now, I suggest we draw out and take down Krill first: Otis, you've got that disrupter, so you'd best take point; Gar, Sharpe, you're his back-up. Joe, you're the bomb expert. Kuttler may not be in the best shape, so you're on standby while Drury and I infiltrate the penthouse. You're too important to lose."

 

"Thanks, Chuck," Rigger smiled.

 

"What- What are you doing? Drury interrupted, his arms folded.

 

"I'm... making the plan," Chuck blushed.

 

"Aha," Drury replied. "Yeah, Chuck's plan sounds good, let's go with that," he declared.

 

"Alright, everybody listen up. This is Black Spider," Chuck addressed the party guests. "He's with Batman. No, he's not here to arrest you. He's going to make sure you all get out of here safely. Don't worry, we're going to make sure Julian's bomb doesn't go off, and maybe bring him in."

 

"Yeah? And just who the hell are you exactly?" Franco glared.

 

"We're the Justice League," Sharpe replied. "Who d'ya think, dumbass?"

Done