Goon Platoon

Batman wasn’t there.

He’d taken that momentary distraction and grappled to the closest gargoyle, then pressed close to it to avoid being seen. As Jason and his militia continued to scour the room, he grappled to a second gargoyle, once again pressing in close. He waited for them to move on, then grappled to the next gargoyle.

He waited. Jason moved past him, the militia flanking him on all sides. Batman waited for the last soldier to step beneath him, and then he dropped to the ground and took the man out with a silent chokehold.

The soldiers heard nothing, but Jason had. He whirled and fired, but Batman was already gone.

“He’s here. He’s targeting us. Do your damn jobs and find him.” The men nodded quietly. It was clear from their expressions that they feared him.

Batman grappled to the next gargoyle, then flattened himself again as Jason opened fire on the one he’d just vacated. The gargoyle exploded into countless pieces, but Batman was nowhere to be found.

He lowered himself behind another of the militia soldiers, grabbed him across his mouth and throat. In seconds the man was unconscious. Batman fired his grapple across the room, latching onto the next level up and disappearing into the dark.

“Bruce, listen to me,” Jason shouted. “I know you won’t leave until you confront me again, but that only means you’re giving me more time to find you and kill you. You think I’m trapped here with you, but you’re trapped here with me—and remember, I know all your secrets. I know how you think, and I know exactly how I’m going to kill you.”

He suddenly turned again and sprayed the gargoyles with bullets, destroying three more, damaging all of them. But Batman was back on the ground, hiding in another cubicle, another unconscious soldier lying behind him. He nodded to Gordon, who gave no sign, but watched as Batman once again grappled to a gargoyle. Jason’s bullets had destroyed half of it, but still Batman blended into the shadows, away from view.

Two more soldiers to go, and then he had to confront Jason Todd. He prayed he could convince his former partner to surrender, yet knew he would not. Batman couldn’t kill him, but he was afraid there would be no other way to stop him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when they came face to face.

Batman lowered himself behind another short wall and grabbed a soldier who was peering up at the gargoyles. The soldier went down, leaving only one more with whom to deal.

And then Jason.

“You’re good, Bruce. Better than ever, but you’re going to lose this war, and I think you know it.” Jason stepped away from the last soldier. “Everything you care about has been taken from you. Your former friend,” he said, pointing at Gordon, still chained to his chair. “He now hates you, as well he should. The Joker would never have had any reason to ruin his daughter’s life if it wasn’t for you.

“Your first Robin barely speaks to you. Your current one feels neglected. And you can see how you impacted on my life. I not only want you dead, I want you thoroughly destroyed. I want the very memory of you purged from the history books.”

* * *

Jason stared up toward the dark ceiling. Batman had to be there, hiding on top of a gargoyle, or in the shadows of the rafters. Jason held his weapon, pivoting it right, left, up, down; Jason would find Bruce wherever he was hiding.

“Change of plans, Bats,” he shouted. “You tend to win these engagements because your enemies talk you to death. Well, my talking ends now. No more witty banter. If I see you, I shoot you—and if I shoot you, you will die.”

Jason turned to give new orders to the final soldier, but the man was already unconscious on the ground. A silent takedown. Batman specialized in those. He started to get angry, but pushed it aside. The soldiers were only cannon fodder. They existed solely to keep Batman busy. To tire him out.

Batman had the weight advantage and, as hard as it was to admit it, he was the better fighter. Exhausting him before the two faced off would almost make them equals.

Jason strained to listen to every sound echoing through the vast chamber. Everything reverberated off the walls—every step, every movement. Maybe it had been a mistake, luring Batman here where he couldn’t easily pinpoint his location.

Maybe it was, but there was no turning back. Whatever happened next, however the encounter unfolded, the only way it was going to end was with his former mentor lying face down on the floor in a spreading pool of his own blood.

Suddenly a shadow flashed by and Jason fired, but there was no one there. Something moved off to his left. He fired again.

Still nothing. He heard a whooshing sound high overhead, in the rafters. He sprayed the ceiling with bullets, but there was nobody there.

Jason was angry now.

Where the hell are you—?

Batman was behind him.

Jason whirled but a clenched fist slammed him back. Then a foot smashed into his arm, breaking something, forcing him to drop his gun. He scrambled for it but a volley of hard, steady punches kept him off balance. He tried to back away, to gain a moment to collect his thoughts, but a knee smashed into his groin and he yelped in pain.

He fell back, then the dark shadow moved closer. He twisted and rolled off to the side. The shadow fell on empty ground.

Jason caught his breath and rose to his feet.

“You are good, old man, but I’m ready now. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Batman: Arkham Knight, Chapter 41