Batman 4 - Batman & Robin

by Michael Jan Friedman

  “Not all heroes wear masks,” Bruce reminded him.

  “I suppose that’s true,” Alfred agreed.

  The billionaire put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Alfred,” he said, “if I’ve never told you . . . I just want to say . . .”

  “Yes?” the butler prompted.

  Bruce swallowed, fighting tears. For all his willpower, for all his inner strength, he was unable to speak the words.

  He found himself looking past Alfred for a moment. Looking out the window, into the distance.

  What he saw was not the dark of night, but the light of day. And a game. A boy—young Bruce, himself—was playing hide-and-seek with his middle-aged manservant. Alfred disappeared behind a hedge and then appeared again. And the boy laughed.

  Remembering where he was, Bruce turned back to Alfred. “I want to say . . .” he began again.

  But before he could finish, he heard footfalls—someone running. A moment later, Dick sprang into sight. He spoke three words.

  “Freeze has escaped.”

  Bruce went to the window and craned his neck to gaze in the direction of the city center. He could see the Bat-Signal shining against the clouds in the night sky.

  His signal.

  “Come on,” he told Dick. He would speak to Alfred later, he promised himself. “Let’s go.”

  Freeze sat in a limousine filled with flowers, Ivy ensconced beside him and Bane at the wheel. As they drove by the Snowy Cones Ice Cream Factory, he peered out between roses and chrysanthemums. The place was surrounded now by a police perimeter.

  “My reserves are exhausted,” he complained. “I must have the gems that power my suit.”

  And that wasn’t his only problem. Nora was inside the factory, too.

  Ivy glanced at him. “You are looking unseasonably hot. Let’s go inside and grab your rocks.”

  Suddenly, they saw the Batmobile arrive, tires screeching. Batman and Robin raced inside the factory.

  Damn, thought Freeze. “In my weakened state,” he said miserably, “I am no match for the Bat and the Bird.”

  “You leave Batman and Robin to me,” said Ivy.

  Freeze looked at her, unable to conceal his skepticism. She smiled.

  “Trust me. Vegetable magnetism.”

  Freeze nodded. After all, she seemed so confident.

  “Fine,” he said. “While I retrieve my diamonds, you and Meatloaf will bring my wife to your lair. She’s frozen in—”

  Ivy’s demeanor changed suddenly. She seemed to be . . . a tad jealous.

  “Hold it,” she told him. “Stop the music. You never said anything about a wife, frozen or otherwise.”

  It only confirmed what Freeze had suspected—that the green woman wished to engage him in a love affair. But to Freeze, such a thing was unthinkable. He loved his wife no less now than the day they were married. And if it meant walking over the bodies of a thousand Ivys to bring Nora back, he would do that without hesitating.

  Moving quickly, he grabbed Ivy by her throat and smashed her back into her padded seat. Bane turned to stop him, but the green woman shooed him away with an extraordinarily casual gesture.

  “You will rescue my wife,” Freeze grated. “Without her, the world has no beauty. No reason for me to go on. When I have found the cure for the disease that robbed her from me, when she is warm in my arms again, I will repay you for your efforts as you see fit.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ivy rasped, her windpipe partially obstructed by his grip. “Poison Ivy to the rescue. Now, where do I find your brittle bride?”

  He told her everything she needed to know.

  Batman looked around what had been Freeze’s lair. The police had everything tagged and taped, as they should have. But of course, there was still a lot more to be unearthed from this frigid ground.

  Commissioner Gordon, once called “the second-toughest man in Gotham” by a reporter, walked into the room. Acknowledging Batman with a nod, he handed him a bunch of glossy photographs.

  “There’s no sign Freeze came back here after the breakout,” Gordon explained. He pointed to the topmost photo. “We pulled that one off the surveillance cameras at Arkham.”

  Batman glanced at it. It showed Freeze, Ivy, and Ivy’s big, leather-masked henchman making a daring dive into the Gotham River.

  Gordon handed him another picture. “From the security camera at the Gotham Airport. Two nights ago.”

  This image was grainier than the other one. A woman in a veiled hat and black widow’s cloak stood next to a giant blurred form, also disguised with street clothes.

  “These two,” said Gordon, “arrived on a charter from South America. They put ten security guards in the hospital, left a businessman dead of organic poisoning, broke the neck of a chauffeur and stole his limousine.” He paused. “Apparently, the big one is called Bane. One of the inmates overheard the name.”

  Batman nodded appraisingly. “Definitely the same pair that sprang Freeze.”

  As Gordon left, Robin came over to peer at the pictures as well. The younger man whistled softly.

  “It’s Poison Ivy all right.”

  “But why,” asked Batman, “would she help Freeze to escape?”

  “She’s definitely evil,” Robin observed. His face took on sterner lines. “You know, it’s weird, but for a while Ivy was all I could think about. It was almost as if I loved her. But then . . .”

  Batman grunted. “I know. The feeling just vanished.”

  Robin looked at him apologetically. He lowered his voice, so only his mentor could hear. “I can’t believe we were fighting over a bad guy.”

  Batman frowned. “Bad, yes. Guy, no. This is one extraordinarily beautiful evil person.”

  Robin shrugged. “Beautiful or not, I’m totally over her. Positively.”

  “Same here,” said Batman. But he couldn’t help staring at her image a moment longer before shutting down the console.

  “I’ll be outside if you need me,” said Gordon.

  The Dark Knight nodded. His next step was to visit the walk-in freezer. Naturally, Robin followed him in.

  Batman walked along a wall of frozen dinners, running the fingertips of his glove along their forward edges. Finally, he stopped at one dinner in particular—an Oriental one—and withdrew it from its place.

  Abruptly, the door to a hidden vault swung open. He saw Robin look at him in amazement.

  “How did you . . . ?”

  By way of an explanation, Batman showed him the frozen dinner in his hand. “Open Sesame . . . Chicken.”

  Robin smiled. “Gotcha.”

  Entering the vault, Batman looked around—and saw the bizarre, high-tech sarcophagus that dominated the place. As he approached it, he realized there was someone inside.

  It was Nora Fries.

  “She’s still alive,” Batman observed. “Her husband was able to adapt his freezing technology to arrest McGregor’s Syndrome.” Glancing at a nearby monitor, he grunted appreciatively. “Freeze has even found a cure for the early stages of the disease.”

  “Can he save her?” asked Robin.

  Batman shook his head from side to side. “Her case is too advanced. But maybe someday, with more research—”

  He stopped himself, noticing the fairylike spirals that were beginning to wind their way through the room. He tried not to breathe them in, but he was already feeling a bit dazed.

  Beckoning to Robin, he traced the dust spirals to a narrow, snaking passage at the far end of the vault. Following it, Batman found a pair of service doors. He wrenched them open.

  Beyond the doors, Bane was standing atop a metal staircase, overlooking an industrial basement where catwalks crisscrossed above huge mixing vats and conveyor belts. As the crime fighters watched, the giant hit a switch and brought the machinery whirring to life.

  So far, he hadn’t seemed to notice their arrival.

  “No beauty . . .” Batman whispered.

  “Just the beast,” Robin added.

 
Batman rushed Bane, hoping to capitalize on the element of surprise. It didn’t work.

  The monster saw him coming and moved faster than anyone his size had a right to. Sideswiping Batman, he sent him flying off the stairs toward the basement floor below.

  But the Dark Knight didn’t land on any floor. He came down in a mammoth ice-cream mixer. And before he knew it, a giant stirring arm was making a deadly sweep in his direction.

  As he flipped himself out of the vat to avoid it, he could see that Robin was following up on his attack, smashing into Bane’s chest with both feet. But the boy bounced off and came down hard atop the landing.

  “Ouch,” said Robin. “Any more at home like you?”

  Bane didn’t answer. He just advanced on the boy, his huge arms held out like a wrestler’s.

  Batman would have vaulted back up to the landing to help. But suddenly he found someone blocking his way, someone green and lovely and impossibly desirable.

  Ivy smiled and blew a handful of dust in his face. “I must confess,” she said, “the combination of derring-do and an anatomically correct rubber suit puts fire in a girl’s . . . lips.”

  Up on the landing, Robin and Bane were battling it out. It was a fight Robin couldn’t hope to win, but he was giving it everything he had.

  A part of Batman knew he had to lend a hand, or his protégé would be pummeled to death. It was only a small part of him, but it wouldn’t be overcome. He wouldn’t let it.

  As Ivy leaned in to kiss him, he recoiled. She seemed surprised.

  “Why,” Batman asked, dazed by her, “do all the gorgeous ones have to be homicidal maniacs? Is it me?”

  “I’d turn over a new leaf,” she said. “For the right man.”

  Suddenly, she took a swing at his face. He caught her wrist.

  “Oh.” She chuckled. “You like it rough.” She tried to pull him close again. “Good,” she said. “So do I.”

  Up above, Bane had gotten his hands on Robin and was spinning the boy over his head. Releasing Ivy—albeit reluctantly—Batman raced up the steps, taking them three at a time.

  But he was a split second too late. The giant hurled Robin just as Batman smashed into him. Together, he and Bane fell off the platform, taking their fight to a catwalk below.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Batman could see that Robin was all right. He had landed on a platform just a few feet lower down.

  Thank God for small favors, he thought, as he ducked a blow from Bane that would’ve caved in his skull.

  Scrambling to his feet, Robin found himself in front of a huge miller’s wheel, which was carrying planks of wood through a chopper for conversion into Popsicle sticks.

  “Hey, pretty birdie,” said a seductive, feminine voice.

  Turning, he saw Ivy in front of him. Before he could do anything, she blew a pile of dust in his face. Then she began advancing on him, backing Robin toward the chopper blades.

  “No,” he said, trying like hell to fight his revived attraction for her. “You’re evil.”

  “Evil?” she repeated. “No. Just misguided. Basically I’m your garden-variety pretty girl.”

  “Turn yourself in,” he insisted, though his heart wasn’t in it. “If you threw yourself—”

  “At you?” she suggested. Her green eyes sparkled suggestively.

  “On the mercy of the court. Maybe they’d . . . I don’t know. Release you into my custody.” Even as he said it, he realized how unlikely it was.

  She stroked his cheek. “So young. So sweet. And a hero to boot. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” Ivy leaned forward, lips pursed. “Polly want a kiss?”

  Robin wanted to kiss her. He really did. But before he could even think about giving in to her charms, he heard a vicious crack above him.

  Turning, he saw Batman stagger backward on a catwalk, reeling from one of Bane’s blows. As the boy watched, Bane lurched forward and drove his fist into Batman’s jaw, staggering him a second time.

  The Dark Knight was dangerously close to the edge of the catwalk. Forgetting Ivy, Robin grabbed a strut on the miller’s wheel—and the giant cog lifted him up toward Batman.

  Down below, he could hear Ivy’s exclamation of frustration. “I must be losing my touch,” she complained.

  Freeze was standing at the top of a stairway, not yet having reached the vault where he kept his most precious possessions . . . when the front doors to the factory blew open, revealing Commissioner Gordon and a squad of cops.

  The villain glowered at them. “I hate uninvited guests.”

  As the cops raced up the stairs to get him, he pulled a lever marked COOLANT GAS. Suddenly, vents all around the room began hissing a freezing, blue gas.

  The cops tried to fight their way through it, but Freeze had another surprise for them. “Why don’t you boys slip into something more comfortable?” he asked—and pulled another lever.

  Instantly, the steps were transformed into a steep, curving ramp, slick with a veneer of coolant-created ice. To put the icing on the cake, Freeze reached out and punched Gordon in the mouth, sending him tumbling backward into his shivering cohorts. The bunch of them went down like tenpins and slipped to the floor below.

  With the cops momentarily disposed of, the villain resumed his journey to the diamond vault. Suddenly, another contingent of cops emerged from one of the blue-gas clouds.

  This time, Freeze didn’t resort to any technotricks—just to his own strength and lightning reflexes. Whipping billy clubs from the holsters of two police, he used them like a set of Filipino escrima sticks, knocking the cops unconscious with a flurry of slams and jabs.

  “Stick around,” he told them grimly, as he sent the cops flying in opposite directions.

  One of them disappeared into another cloud of gas. The other one hit a wall. Beside him, a button read EMERGENCY HEAT.

  A bad move, thought Freeze.

  Somehow, the cop found the presence of mind to reach up and slam the stud. All over the room, gray filaments came to life. The place began to glow a vibrant red.

  Just then, Freeze’s watch started flashing. He held it up to his eyes and felt his heart sink. No power.

  As Ivy watched, Bane kicked Batman off the end of their catwalk. But before her gigantic servant could revel in his victory—even if he were capable of such a thing—Robin leaped onto his massive back.

  Robin wasn’t Batman, but he seemed to know what he was doing. And he was nothing if not game. For a little while, at least, it seemed Bane would have his hands full with him.

  In the meantime, Batman himself landed on his back on a slow-moving conveyor belt—one that was feeding ancient tubs of ice cream into a clown-shaped flash freezer. Ivy jumped on top of the crime fighter and lowered her face close to his.

  “You bring out the animal in me,” she told him.

  “I should have brought my leash,” he replied.

  Ivy grunted. “Enough sweet talk.”

  With that, she blew another handful of dust into his face—and licked her lips. She would enjoy this, she thought. Oh, how she would enjoy this. Slowly, she leaned in for a kiss.

  But at the last possible moment, just before her lips brushed against Batman’s, he averted his face and wrenched her to the conveyor belt—just ahead of the clown’s freezing maw.

  “You’re going to jail,” he declared.

  Ivy marveled at his resolve. After all, her powder was powerful stuff. It must have taken a superhuman effort to resist it.

  “I’m a lover,” she said, “not a fighter. That’s why every Poison Ivy action figure comes complete with . . . him.”

  She pointed to Bane, who was standing atop a giant storage vat, a dazed Robin hanging like a rag doll in his hands. As Ivy and Batman watched, Bane tossed Robin aside and slid feetfirst down another conveyor belt—right at them.

  Batman didn’t move as quickly as Ivy had seen him move before. Before he could react, Bane crashed into him. Then, carried by the giant’s momentum, the two of t
hem smashed into the wall with bone-crushing force.

  Ivy waved good-bye to Batman as she swung down off the belt “I’m off to find Bachelor Number Two,” she announced. “Try not to make too much of a mess when you die.”

  Freeze could feel the room he was in getting hotter by the second. He staggered in the direction of his vault, his vitality ebbing fast, his flesh already beginning to turn gray.

  With his last ounce of strength, Freeze ripped open his safe and filled his sleeve compartments with diamonds. Immediately, he could feel himself revitalized, feel his color returning.

  “Ahh,” he said. “Chilled to perfection.”

  Then he hit his watch. Suddenly, he was encased in ice. Perfection indeed, he thought.

  Down below, the cops appeared to have recovered. They drew their guns and fired at him. But their bullets bounced off his icy armor, ricocheting into the walls.

  He grinned savagely. “Superman, eat your heart out.”

  Then he headed for his weapons locker.

  Dazed by his sudden introduction to the wall, Batman got his feet under him and tried to shake off the effects of Bane’s attack. But the giant was on him again before he knew it.

  A second time, he smashed Batman into the wall. As the Dark Knight slumped to the floor, Bane advanced on him for the coup de grâce. But Batman wasn’t about to call it quits.

  Reaching into his Utility Belt, he whipped out a Batclub and sent it whirling in Bane’s direction. The club hit the giant in the head, stunning him, forcing him to take a couple of steps back into a rail.

  Batman had earned himself a respite, though he had a feeling it would be all too brief. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivy closing in on his protégé.

  As the police rushed him, Freeze opened his locker and took out a small icing jewel. Using it on the floor, he watched the surface glow a brilliant blue and then cover over with ice.

  The cops couldn’t control their headlong progress over that kind of surface. Slipping on the icy floor in classic Keystone style, arms pinwheeling, they ended up sprawled on their backs.