Gotham: Panic Attack

Creepers

'Let me go, idiot.' I growl from a position that practically underneath Jack's boot.
'No can do, baby doll. I want an inside scoop. Gimme the news! What're you hunting? What should we call you? Goatkiller? Batgirl?' Asks Jack, pressing the damn camera closer to my face. I hiss and attempt to punch the thing.
'Uh huh huh.' He laughs, taking the camera to a slightly less proximate location to up my nostril. 'We can take you to the GCPD right now if you insist, but we'd rather make you a celebrity instead of salami!' Announces Jack, turning around to face his crew, and spreading his arms like a charismatic gangster.

'Well.' He leans back down at my eye level, and whispers into my face. 'Are we going to beat you to a pulp, or are you going to give us the headline we want? Because if not, the headlines going to read Vigilante found dead!'

Wow. This has really escalated quickly. I jam my foot to the wall of the alley, and use it to boost myself into a jump. I clutch to my belt for a second, and then pull out Winn's grenade. I lob it at Jack's camera - and am rewarded by plenty of cussing and swearing.

In order to kindly back up the chorus of clamouring assaulting my ears at this moment, I lash out with my boots and slash across Jack's face, knocking his bloody hat off his bloodied head.

I thump back down onto the pavement when all of the reporters are unconscious - the darker side of my brain briefly ponders just snapping Ryder's neck then and there, but I remind myself that there's probably to be some code or something for vigilantes like myself.
And that includes murdering people with balloons.

I'm actually mildly disappointed that I can't strap the asshole to a balloon, but I still just leap up the wall to catch my breath on Blackfire Cathedral. Remind me to investigate this place one day. Who names their church Blackfire?

Anyhow, my feet get the best going again, and I'm soon on my way to a ballet lesson. Such fun. I briefly stop and stare at the police cars passing by beneath me, sirens wailing. Maybe another murder? Mission compromised, I'm going to find out what's got the cops spooked this time.

The cars eventually stop, and I skid off a gutter rail onto the shiny, smooth roof of the vehicle. I subtly jump down behind the cops, and then take a vantage point in the nearest dark point on the street. Trust me, they're not hard to find.

What I see really isn't good. Another jaundiced body, with its hair burned a sickly green. If my theories are correct, Ragdoll should be somewhere around here- he can't get away that quickly, right?

Right. I yelp in shock as two legs in loose, stripy trousers wrap around my neck and drag me up onto a rooftop.