Bruce Wayne

Chapter 19: Getting Involved

The first punch Bruce landed was against the man's nose, staggering him backwards and making him drop the newspaper and Bruce's keys. Charging into the apartment, Bruce continued a relentless assault, delivering punches to the man's face and stomach in an alternating pattern to keep his foe from effectively defending. Dropping to the floor, Bruce landed on his side and kicked out with his right leg, connecting hard with the man's ankle and sweeping his legs out from under him.

Rolling back to his feet, Bruce seized an ashtray from the coffee table in the dingy living room and threw it out the window, shattering the glass and creating a shower of glittering fragments down to the street.

Gordon grabbed the radio in his car and put in a call to the station.

"Possible domestic disturbance at Beckman Hotel at Fifth and Drake. Officer on scene," Gordon reported, knowing with almost complete certainty it had been the signal from Bruce.

"Understood," the dispatcher replied from the radio. "Backup en route."

Leaving the car behind, Gordon rushed past a clearly irritated Cunningham and into the hotel. He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the second floor and heading in the direction of a commotion down the hall. He reached room 204 in time to watch the criminal he recognized as Harris throw a punch at Bruce. The teenager blocked the attack, seized Harris by the wrist, and flipped him over to land on his back atop the coffee table. The wood furniture broke under the impact, collapsing under Harris, and the criminal stayed down, groaning.

"I'll keep an eye on Harris," Gordon told Bruce. "Find the girl."

Bruce didn't have to be told twice, leaving the criminal in Gordon's charge and departing for the bedroom in the back of the apartment. He opened the closet but didn't find the girl, only empty hangars on a bare metal rod crossing the storage space. Checking under the bed, Bruce discovered a large suitcase. Dragging the heavy container out, he unzipped it and threw back the lid. The girl, no older than ten, was curled up inside, shaking with fear. Staying in his kneeling position beside the suitcase, Bruce held out a hand, letting the girl reach to him rather than feel threatened by an attempt to pull her out.

"It's okay," Bruce coaxed. "I'm here with the police. We're going to take you home."

The young Hispanic girl hesitantly reached out and accepted Bruce's hand, and he slowly helped her out of the suitcase, picking her up and carrying her back into the living room. The girl cringed when she saw Harris handcuffed on the floor.

"It's alright," Bruce soothed, stroking her black hair with his free hand. "He can't hurt you anymore."

Harris opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce didn't want him threatening the child. Bruce slammed a foot down on the back of Harris' shoulder, pinning him to the carpet.

"Not one word," Bruce growled.

The look Harris glared toward Bruce showed he wanted to curse or threaten him. Since Harris had been beaten by the teenager in a fight only minutes ago, being handcuffed on the floor would make Harris a punching bag for Bruce, so the criminal wisely kept his mouth shut and continued his murderous glare.

"Does the girl have any family we need to contact?" Bruce asked.

"Her mother's been practically living at the station since the kidnapping," Gordon explained. He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Bruce, keeping his gun hand aimed at their prisoner. "Here's the number for my office. The secretary can relay the good news to her mother. Backup is already on the way, but I think you should make a discreet exit before they get here."

"Understood," Bruce accepted. He knew full well if the crooked cop, Cunningham, was still around, he might try to arrest Bruce for interfering in a police investigation, assault and battery, as well as trespassing when he entered Harris' room.  Considering Bruce had actually done those things, he was slightly relieved he'd actually attacked the right man.  Things could have gone very badly if he'd been wrong.