Must Love Hyenas

10: Ace Chemicals

Harley drove straight to Ace Chemicals where the next phase of her plans would unfold.

"Why are we here?" John asked.

"I have a guy working on something you might find amusing," Harley explained, turning off the engine but not getting out of the car. "It's a formula based on the fear amplifier the doctor was developing, but it's being altered so as to produce humor instead of terror."

"How did you get him to work on it?" John questioned. "Are you paying him?"

"Goodness, no," Harley denied. "I told him I had his wife and child sitting on a bomb and if he tried to escape, called the authorities, tried to contact his family, or otherwise interfered with my plans, I'd press the button."

"That's not very nice," John pointed out.

"It's only a joke," Harley dismissed. "I actually sent them on a cruise after swiping their cell phones, but he doesn't need to know that. They'll be unable to communicate, and by the time he figures it out, I'll have what I want. Come on."

Harley climbed out of the car and led John to the main office for the chemical plant. Hunched over an angled drafting board, a weary man with frazzled red hair turned to look in their direction as Harley and John walked in. The lab coat he wore had been white once, but it had become covered in grime to the point it was a splotchy gray. The identification tag from STAR Labs clipped to the lapel of his coat identified him as Wilkins.

"Hey, Doc," Harley greeted the captive scientist happily. "How goes the work?"

"I've finished a prototype solution," Wilkins admitted with a sigh. His eyes were heavy, and he wiped his brow with a shaky hand.

"Let's have a look," Harley encouraged.

Wilkins nodded and forced himself out of his chair and shuffled toward the door. He led them to a metal staircase and up to a catwalk overlooking a number of large vats. Only one of the vats was currently full, churning with an eerie green fluid.

"You said it was a prototype," Harley mentioned. "What are the effects and duration?"

"It creates a hypersensitivity to humor," Wilkins explained, leaning on the metal railing. "Its effects only last a few minutes at most. Also, because of its liquid form, it has to be ingested or absorbed through the skin. I've been working on an airborne version, but its effectiveness is even less as the particulates spread out through the air and become less concentrated, further reducing the duration."

"Any luck on fixing it?" Harley prompted.

"I've made...some progress," Wilkins answered hesitantly.

"Do I need to remind you about the button my thumb is on?" Harley questioned. "If I find out you're holding out on me, things won't end well."

"I'm not holding out on you," Wilkins pleaded. "Once I figure out how to keep it from breaking down in the human system, its longevity will be increased substantially. I just need more time."

A whistling sound occurred moments before a bat shaped piece of sharpened alloy lanced downward from the rafters and embedded into the railing with a loud ringing of metal. Everyone spun around, trying to see where the object had come from. A shadow detached itself from the darkness cloaking the rafters and dropped to the catwalk a few feet away from Harley and the two men with her.

The landing was utterly silent, and the long cape, as black as the shadows around it, folded around the figure to keep the person within hidden from view. A pair of points protruded up from its head like sharpened horns or an animal's alert ears. The specter threw back its cape, causing it to billow out in a resemblance of unfurling wings.

Harley remembered the rumors she'd heard about the Batman and decided this person must be him. Although he was impressive, she couldn't let him interfere. Turning slightly to one side, she kept her hand concealed as it reached into the bag hanging by a diagonal shoulder strap at her side.

"You're going back to Arkham," the shadowy form of Batman rumbled in a deep and robotic voice.

"That's what you think, bat-brain!" Harley countered before pulling a gun from her bag and aiming it at Batman.

Throwing down a handful of small pellets, Batman created an obscuring cloud of white smoke, and when the cloud dissipated, he had vanished. Although Harley was annoyed by Batman's escape as it promised further harassment by the mysterious figure, she did take comfort in his retreat. Batman wasn't some creature of darkness, but a living, breathing human just as susceptible to gunfire as any other.

"Time to go," Harley decided aloud. She reached into her bag with a free hand and tossed her keys at Wilkins. "Get the car."

Wilkins nodded silently and took off at a brisk jog as he was too tired to run.

Reaching over, Harley pulled on John's sleeve. "Come on, Mr. J. We're leaving."

"You're not going anywhere, except back to Arkham," Batman's voice declared ominously from the darkness around them.

"We'll see about that," Harley shout back. "What's the matter, B-man? Afraid to come out and fight?"

As if in answer, Batman dropped from the ceiling to land almost directly behind her. Harley spun around, but the caped hero blocked her arm with his own. A grab of her wrist and a simple twist sent the gun flying out of her hand. Before she could do anything else, John, still under the effects of Crane's fear neutralizer, tackled Batman from behind. The two men staggered toward the railing, and John went over it.

Everything moved in slow motion for Harley as she watched Batman grab at John, trying to keep a hold on him, but John slipped through Batman's clutches. Without fear, John didn't even scream on the way down; Harley wouldn't have heard him if he had as she was screaming herself as John plunged toward and landed in the vat of glowing green chemicals.