Chapter 5: For Wonder Woman
Lex sized the Joker up. His armor’s sensors told him that the Joker was radiating kryptonite fiercely.
“So it’s Metropolis now, is it? What—Gotham’s too easy to spoil nowadays?”
“Lex, Lex. Gotham’s a still-born city, it’s done nothing but fester in its own refuse since the beginning. I never spoiled it; I just kept people like you and the Bat from tainting it. No, no, this isn’t about Gotham. This is about Metropolis. This is about your little gem of peace and friendliness.”
“Overthrowing the status quo? That’s a little cliché, don’t you think? Spare me the chatter, Joker—why are you in my office?”
“You got me. I’m just here to say hello. Oh, and to let you know that what’s going on out there,” he rolled his fingers across the window, “is just the beginning.”
I don’t have time for this. There’s something tearing Metropolis apart, no sign of Superman to save us, and a prime opportunity for Lex Luthor to be the hero. Ah, it’s about time they got here.
A dozen of Lex’s security sentries surged into the office and leveled their guns at the Joker.
“Right.” Lex nonchalantly turned toward the window and raised his hand. “Well, I’ve got a city to save, and you’re wanted back in Arkham. Have a nice trip back, Joker.”
The bay window opened behind Lex Luthor, and the armored businessman leapt out the window. He didn’t look back; his sentries were some of the finest martial artists and gunslingers money could hire. They’re ready to stall Superman. They’ll have him back at Arkham by sundown. And if the Joker should put up a fight, he’ll never walk again.
Lex scanned the cityscape with this enhanced vision. The nanotechnology felt like a second layer of skin; it melded with his fingers, his heartbeat, his eyes, his mind. He wasn’t just a man wearing nanites; he was an augmented being. He magnetically latched onto the steel framework of the buildings below, and swiftly, silently glided toward the catastrophe ahead. He listened intently, first for people, then for weapons.
Then for thoughts.
{CAPTAIN MARVEL CORRUPT. GUILTY. LEX LUTHOR. KILL. FOR DIANA. LEX LUTHOR’S TOWN. NOT MY HOME. KILL. FOR WONDER WOMAN. BURN, BURN, BURN. BILLY BATSON CORRUPT. DIANA.}
Lex stopped short. Superman—how? Joker.
Lex’s suit was a telepathic antenna, one that had taken years to perfect and use. He’d never had a chance to use it around Superman; the moment the Man of Steel laid his Kryptonian eyes on it, he would know where it came from. Now he was flying headlong into a fight with the world’s mightiest warriors, and it sounded like the Superman had lost his grip.
If Lex lost, he’d lose everything.
He didn’t have time to mull it over—something tackled him in midair from above.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?”
He lost his concentration and plummeted to the streets below. He hit the pavement hard, but the armor took the brunt of the impact. The Joker was back; how he’d escaped the sentries, Lex couldn’t know. He rolled over and swept his feet to trip the madman, but the Joker happily jumped over them, catching the battlewinds with his flowing violet coattails—coattails riddled with bullet holes, Lex noted.
“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, Lex, and there’ll be plenty of time to get to them. But let me make this clear.” He leaned in close and theatrically pointed his finger toward the sky. “Things have gone your way for far too long.”
Lex was up. He flung a right hook at the Joker’s chin. He took the hit gleefully, like a slap in the face from a pretty woman.
“HAAA! Nice hit, nice hit! Oooh, you really . . . you really showed me.”
Lex gripped the Joker’s lapels and pulled him in close. His techno-suit normally gave him easy access to the thoughts of those around him, but the Joker was silent, undetectable. He’d snuck up on Lex twice in the past two minutes without a synapse’s warning. There aren’t many minds I can’t read. Curious. “Why are you here?”
“What’s the matter, Lex? Having trouble reading my mind? Oh, that must be frustrating. Don’t worry. You’ll get an explanation in time. For now, just suffice it to say that your plate just got a whole lot fuller.”
“You think scum like you can just do whatever you want?”
“Hello, Pot?” The Joker extended his thumb and pinky to imitate an old telephone handset. “Yes, this is Kettle. Say what? Oh, Pot, that’s just racist.”
“You listen to me.” Now Lex leaned in close. “I don’t know what you’ve done to Superman, but I’m betting it has something to do with your new little bulletproof glowworm getup. I would tear you apart right now, but I know your style. You’ve probably already recorded this whole incident. ‘Lex Luthor Lacerates Lunatic’ isn’t the kind of press I need. Now, Superman and Marvel are tearing up the town I’ve spent the last two years saving. You’d better be out of my town by the time I sort this out.”
Lex Luthor’s spiel was punctuated by a chorus of guns cocking. The Joker looked around; the two were completely encircled by a dozen sentries. They’d followed Lex’s signal to the point of their current standoff.
The Joker cackled and shook himself free. “Metropolis isn’t yours anymore, Lex. It wasn’t yours to begin with. And Superman? Let the demigods duke it out. It’s time you got a real nemesis. And, Lex, honey,” he bowed grandiosely, “they don’t come better’n me.”
“Take him to the labs,” Lex radioed the sentry chief. “I want to know why he’s surviving bullets, metal fists, and Superman.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” The Joker somersaulted high into the air and landed directly in front of Luthor. He removed a deck of playing cards from his jacket and continued. “You seem to be especially quick off your feet lately—now, let’s play a little game. See these cards? There’s a sister deck which I’ve taken the opportunity to stash all around Metropolis. Now of course, these aren’t just any cards. For every sister card out there, there’s a bomb. And for every bomb, there’s a, well, whatever the heck I felt like blowing up at the time. I don’t even remember all 52 locations, really, I don’t. Banks, hospitals, elementary schools, houses, police stations—all the good stuff.
“Now, what’s a good death trap if there’s nothing you can do to stop it, am I right? So, here’s your part: you need to get both decks matched up and back to me on the roof of the LuthorCorp building. You have forty-eight hours. And for every card that’s not matched up, well, Metropolis is going to get a lot messier. But don’t beat yourself up about missing a few, buddy. It’s not like it would be the first time someone got hurt while you were trying to save the world. Oh, and speaking of wonder women, you were so, so right about my recording all this. Ms. Lane at the Planet will be getting my POV on all of this right . . . about . . .” he adjusted his corsage. “Now. Yep. It’s done. Hey, Lex—ever play 52 pickups?”
The Joker sprang high into the air and flung his cards in all directions, then bounded away. Luthor jetted after him, trying to snag as many as he could before they hit the ground.
This can’t be happening.
* * *
“Batman. I can’t say this is a surprise.”
Harvey Dent didn’t rise from his desk; he didn’t even raise his eyes as the Dark Knight silently marched into his dark, lavish office. The mob manipulator stared intently at his laptop screen, which illuminated his half-scarred face.
“You’d be a fool to think I wouldn’t come for you. Now, it’s time for you to go back. Are you coming with me willingly, or are we doing this the hard way? Go ahead, flip your coin and let’s get this over with.”
“I’m not coming. And I’m not fighting you on this, either. I’ve got someone else on that.”
What’s he babbling about? Batman had easily deduced where Two-Face’s headquarters was, presumably due to the short amount of time Harvey had to get back into organized crime. His minions (dirty cops, drug-running cabbies, informants, and regular thugs) hadn’t put up much of a fight, but they never were much of a problem for Batman.
“Harvey—”
“Two-Face. You know that.”
“You’re going back to Arkham. Now.”
He strode across the office to his desk, slammed the laptop shut, and lifted Harvey out of his chair.
“Hey! OK, here we go, then.” Harvey raised his voice, “It’s TIME!”
The wall crumbled behind Batman, and something clenched around him, forming an unbreakable vice grip. His arms were forced apart until he dropped Dent back into the desk chair. His feet left the ground, and he struggled against his assailant’s steel grip. He grabbed for a grenade on his utility belt, but was only able to activate his tracking signal before his arm was wrested away.
“Time to stop.”
It all came together. The strength, the voice, the uneven breath.
Bane.
Batman struggled. Then he struggled to struggle. But Bane was cold, strong, and unyielding. Just like last time. If this is it . . . He racked his mind for something significant, but there was nothing. The office was dark and quiet, and Bane could easily snap him into pieces. Harvey would feel no remorse. Bane would avenge his long time spent in Arkham, and Batman would be forever gone. If this is it, this is it.
“If you’re going to kill me, do it right. Break my neck. Harder to survive.”
“Take it easy, Batman. Bane, put him down.”
The brute placed Batman in a chair, then clipped his triceps to its back with his enormous hands. Bane’s taking orders from Dent? Doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t matter how many connections to dirty money and guns Two-Face has; genius-level intellect aside, Bane should be the leader of any outfit by intimidation alone.
“Batman, do you have any idea what’s going on in Metropolis right now?”
Batman hadn’t slept since he and Superman had split up, and he hadn’t been checking the news.
“Luthor’s going to be governor. That’s it.”
Both halves of Harvey’s face showed legitimate disappointment.
“It’s not that simple anymore. Take a look.”
Two-Face turned the laptop around and adjusted the screen. The video feed showed Superman and Captain Marvel brawling through Metropolis, tearing through streets, shops, and parks. Both titans looked worn down; their capes were shredded and frayed, their suits bore the scorch marks of heat vision and magical lightning, and Batman was sure the Man of Steel was getting tired. Clark, what are you doing?
“I’m assuming you have no idea why Superman is destroying Metropolis. Well, here’s how it is: a lot took place when they hooked the Joker up to that psychotechnic stuff. Somehow, he’s super strong and fast, and now he’s sent Superman over the edge with a little kryptonite cocktail. And he’s completely disenfranchised with Gotham. I don’t mind that—the Joker was one big nuisance to both of us.”
A nuisance who’s killed more people than you’ve killed insects.
“But here’s the thing: he used to be completely obsessed with proving you were as insane as he is, and that he’s just as smart as you. Now he’s moved on and decided that Lex Luthor is his match. And from what I can tell, it checks out. Given their psych profiles, they’ve got the corner on the intellectual market. Luthor’s never scored below 100% on any test, ever. And granted, the Joker never made it through the paper tests at Arkham, but his projected IQ and adaptive reasoning skills are remarkably . . . parahuman.” Harvey’s good eye got wide—as wide as the dead, lidless eye on the other side of his face. “It’s the perfect coin! Lex Luthor versus the Joker—it’s brilliant! It’s completely and totally fifty-fifty! It’s life as it should be!”
“How would you have their profiles?”
“Like I said, a lot went down in Arkham (besides Arkham) that day. While everyone else was trying to save their skins, I salvaged whatever I could. Files, drugs, contact information—enough to live handsomely off blackmail for the next few lifetimes. Well, half-handsomely. It seems Luthor and Superman have had some disagreements in the past. Apparently Big Blue tried to have Luthor admitted about ten years ago. Did you know that?”
One of the stupidest things he ever did.
“Of course you did. Something about an anti-life equation and Darkseid and all that.”
“Is there a point you’re getting at?”
“I’m not sure how you can miss it, Mr. Wayne.”
Batman sprang up from his seat and lunged at Two-Face.
“How do you—?”
Bane jerked the Dark Knight back into the chair.
“The Joker paid me a little visit before taking off for Metropolis. He told me everything. His plan to throw Metropolis into chaos like Gotham’s never seen. He told me how he was going for blood, how he would invert Lex Luthor’s dreams of blissful domination. He told me how somehow he knew it was you behind the cowl now. And he told me you were my responsibility. Obviously, he knew you’d come for me. I mean, we all knew that. So he gave me this.”
Dent motioned to Bane, who simply continued to stare at Batman.
“Bane’s changed a lot since you last met face-to-face. The doctors at Arkham had a hard time dealing with someone who was both physically and mentally superior to them, so what did they do? They just shocked him down to size, intellectually speaking. He’s no smarter than the rest of us now, but he’s still strong enough and fast enough to break you . . . again.”
“You were making a point, remember?”
“I just wanted to let you know it’s over, Bruce. The Joker may have forgotten about you, but I haven’t. Bane, neither. We lost some of our prime years to the madhouse of Arkham because of you, and we’re going to collect. I just released your identity to the Planet. Wayne Manor won’t last. WayneTech won’t last. And depending on how this coin toss goes, you might not last, either.” Two-Face pulled his father’s counterfeit silver dollar from his coat pocket.
“So you’re using the Joker’s games to work out your own madness. I won’t begin to describe how ludicrous that sounds.”
Now Harvey jumped to his feet and dove into Batman’s face.
“You might not have to, Batman. If the odds dictate, that is.”
Harvey sat back down and exhaled.
“So here’s the deal, Batman. Heads, Bane throttles you here and now. Tails, you get a thirty-second head start. Don’t worry,” he pulled two Thompson machine guns from his desk, “I’ll keep Bane honest.”
Bane was clearly startled by this, and Batman seized his opportunity. He jumped from his chair and released two batarangs into the room. One buried itself in Bane’s right arm; the other knocked Two-Face’s machine gun off its point. Harvey sprayed bullets across the office, and Bane grunted as he plucked the black blade from his bicep. Batman grabbed the other Tommy gun from the desk and shot the bay window to pieces.
“You’ll never make it out there, Batman! We all know who you are! BANE—HEADS.”
Batman didn’t look behind him as he jumped out the window. He sailed through the chill night air and rolled onto the roof of a neighboring building. He kept running at full pace, not risking a glance over his shoulder as he charged into the blackness. A muffled THUD told him that Bane was in hot pursuit, and although Batman had the mental advantage this time, he wasn’t prepared for a physical fight with the Venom-blooded killing machine. But he wasn’t fast enough. Bane gained ground with every step, and as Batman leapt over the edge of the next building, he sensed Bane’s gloved fingers just inches from his boots.
Then the Batwing appeared. Batman caught the edge and climbed in. Bane fell to the alley below.
“Cutting it close, Alfred.”
“In my defense,” the butler said as he adjusted the small aircraft’s controls and lifted into the night sky, “Your Joker friend cut me closer.”
“That’s a terrible joke.”
“Very well, sir.”
* * *
Superman and Captain Marvel had been fighting for hours. The sun was down, and Marvel was getting tired. At least we’re outside the city limits.
Superman threw a punch. Marvel ducked and cut upward. Superman spun and kicked Marvel into the sky, but the man in red flew back to connect with Superman’s jaw. He’s not letting up.
They kept on. Marvel called lightning, Superman shot heat. Captain Marvel was losing energy, and he knew that with a few more Kryptonian punches, he’d be out. And if I’m out of the picture, no one is safe with this Superman.
Superman leapt into the sky, and Captain Marvel watched him. The Man of Steel was in outer space now, and Marvel wondered if he was finally retreating.
He wasn’t.
The Last Son of Krypton looped around and raced back toward the world’s mightiest mortal. First Marvel braced for the impact, but as Superman gained speed, he realized that there would be no surviving this hit. One of us is going to die.
Marvel began summoning a charge of Shazam’s lightning. This was it.
* * *
KILL CAPTAIN MARVEL. CORRUPT. THEN LEX LUTHOR. FOR WONDER WOMAN. LEX HAS TO PAY. He can’t expect to get away with what he did. Killing Diana to punish her for loving me? Despicable. Lex has to be brought to justice. Wait—what am I doing? Where’s the Joker? Why am I going so fast? Who’s that? Oh, I’d better slow—
Superman was coming to. The Venom was wearing off, and reason seeped back into his being. He was fatigued, as tired as he was after his last duel with Darkseid. When he saw that he was racing toward his friend at several times the speed of sound, he started to slow.
Ah, Marvel. Maybe he can tell me what’s going on. My mind’s so blurred, I can hardly think.
Then Captain Marvel zapped him right between the eyes. And Superman thought no more.
