Harley Quinn Romance 3

Chapter 8: Impostor

Batwoman spread her cape to glide across the industrial zone toward her target. From the information she'd convinced the local criminals to provide her, the only recent newcomers to the district operated out of the shell of a burned out automobile plant.

Whoever the new arrivals were, they had shown a talent for evasiveness as the local criminals had only managed to catch fleeting glimpses, but never the same person twice. The total numbers of the newcomers was unknown, but the locals had estimated at least fifty.

Dropping to the grate covered top of an inactive smokestack, Batwoman looked over the ruins of the automobile plant. The outer walls of the structure were intact only on the north and south as the east and west had been carved out by a fire, leaving the building looking like a used candle. The interior was a tangle of twisted, blackened metal jutting out at odd angles and fused into unrecognizable heaps.

Cycling through her vision modes, she didn't see anyone walking the perimeter or positioned on guard anywhere around. Auditory scans revealed no idle chatter or footsteps. Everything was as empty and still as an open grave. Having been convinced the criminals had given her accurate information, the stillness of the factory site seemed an obvious ambush.

Producing a batarang from her utility belt, she sprayed some explosive gel onto it before throwing the primed weapon into one corner of the burned out building with a clang of metal against metal when it hit something and dropped to the ground. Triggering the explosive gel produced a small burst of red flame and a cloud of smoke.

Batwoman held as still as the stone gargoyles perched around Gotham. All her senses strained to detect any sound or movement. Minutes went by in silent stillness as if someone had pressed pause on the entire city. She was beginning to wonder if the people who'd been using the factory as a base had cleared out after the frame of Batman had been completed, then she saw movement.

It was slight. A brief shadow flickered. It could've been a rat, but she didn't know many rats inclined to move toward explosions. Her attention was unwavering where she'd seen the...whatever it was. Finally, she noticed it again, a single figure moving between the blackened steel pillars once responsible for holding up the roof. Every shift of position was flawless, passing over debris and around wreckage with impossible grace only to meld with the shadows provided by another part of the broken building.

Batwoman lowered her hands to grip the edge of the smokestack where she crouched, her every muscle a tightened spring. When the figure made the mistake of stepping out in the open to look down where her batarang had landed, she made her move, diving off the smokestack and spreading her cape to swoop toward the figure as fast and silent as death itself.

At the last moment, Batwoman pulled on the edges of her cape, allowing her to draw her legs up and deliver a kick with both feet against the back of the figure. The blow sent the figure tumbling out into the open where she got a good look at the cape, cowl, and bat symbol the familiar man wore.

Batwoman didn't need to be told she'd found the impostor. She struck hard and fast, but the false Batman was back on his feet nearly instantly. His moves were fluid and impossibly fast, gliding out of the way of every attack with near effortless ease. A fist she hadn't seen coming struck her hard in the ribs, doubling her over before a second punch smashed her to the ground in a cloud of disturbed soot.

Rolling back to her feet, she tossed a pair of items from her utility belt. The first was a flash grenade her cowl's lenses were able to filter out and protect her eyes. The second was an ice charge Batman had developed from studying Mr. Freeze's technology. Temporarily blinded by the flash grenade, the fake Batman was struck by the ice charge and instantly frozen in place.

Her side was screaming at her with every step, but she forced herself to walk normally, focusing on her breathing to control the pain as she didn't dare show weakness, even to a frozen enemy.

"Let's see who's under the cowl," Batwoman said, approaching the glacial statue she'd created.

Before she could reach it, the statue cracked. Ice splintered off as the Batman impersonator broke free and collapsed to his hands and knees, breathing hard. The costume was slightly blue in color, and when the impostor looked up, the right half of his face was limp, hanging down like a deflated balloon.

"Clayface!" Batwoman declared. "There's no way you thought up a frame job like this on your own. Who are you working for?"

"I'm not telling you anything," Clayface wheezed, his breath coming out in frosty white clouds.

Batwoman stepped forward and jammed a second ice charge straight into Clayface's open mouth and down his throat before his frigid substance could alter shape to resist. The charge went off a second after she pulled her hand out, and spears of ice exploded from Clayface's chest in a starburst of frozen moisture.

"You can't be killed by ice," Batwoman told him calmly, "but I'd bet that sure stings."

"You can't do what they can," Clayface whispered.

"Who are they?" Batwoman pressed.

Clayface reached up a hand and broke off one of the shards of ice sticking out of his chest, and his body closed up the hole where it had emerged almost immediately.

"You can't make me talk," Clayface promised.

"Then I'll try something else," Batwoman agreed, producing a special flask from the back of her belt.

"Do you remember the acid Joker used in his squirting flower?" Batwoman asked, popping the cork loose with her thumb. "Tell me who's behind the frame of Batman or I guarantee you won't heal from this so quickly."

Clayface roared, flexing his chest to shatter the remaining ice before diving away from her and melting through a grating on the floor, vanishing into the sewers.

Batwoman picked up the cork she'd dropped and put it back in place. She returned the flask to her belt. Firing her grappling line, she evacuated the area in case Clayface decided to restart the fight from ambush. Soaring past the upper edge of the smokestack and gliding back toward downtown, she opened a communication channel with Alfred.

"Did the suit's sensors record all that?" she asked. She didn't use Alfred's name to be certain no clues were given out should the encrypted transmission be hacked.

"It did indeed," Alfred confirmed.

"Make a copy for the Commissioner," Batwoman instructed. "It should be enough to get Batman out of lockup."

"I'm already on it," Alfred promised. "Very well done."

"Thanks," she accepted, trying not to grit her teeth as her injured side broke through her mental focus with burning metal fingers she couldn't ignore. "I'm on my way back. See you soon."