|
#6
MAY 14 |
 |
“Easy Money”
“Ah, John, there you are. I've been looking all over for you,” she purred in greeting.
The attractive gentleman she addressed had been turned away, on the arm of an older pudgy man who rambled about the painting that hung before them. It had been a very busy endeavor hosted here tonight at his new mansion, as hours into it there was still a healthy selection of guests that remained. They were many of the city's wealthiest members, or if not then well-placed locals within the powerful societies, along with a hand-picked reporter or two. There was a general buzz in the background of soft music, chatter and the waiters that ferried trays and glasses about.
As he faced her, he smiled first for the salvation from the droning of the verbose elder who had cornered him, and then again once he vaguely recognized the attractive woman in front of him. The old man got the hint by the way in which John Marlowe eyed the woman and silently shuffled away.
The gown was black, formal and covered her back, though her arms were bare and the neckline plunged towards lacking modesty, while the material bunched at the small of her back to be tight over the waist by training behind her. Her hair was short, a touch more than uniform stubble. She wore no jewelry and carried only a tiny black purse, and her make-up only helped to bring out the intensity in her bright green eyes.
By contrast, he felt nearly naked despite being dressed in a tuxedo that cost more than the catering bill and the wage of all the attendants combined.
“Melendy,” he remembered as he extended a hand to take hers as she held it out. “It'd be impossible to not recall such a unique name to go with such a memorable face.”
“Britt,” she gave while she called up a polite blush, and his nod was enough to tell her that he had appreciated the refresher on the surname. “You were a flatterer then too, as I recall.”
“In Gotham? Ah yes, that's right, that's where we met. It was at one of Bruce Wayne's parties. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, nor could anyone else long away. You wore red, if I recall. No one could blame Brucey for staring, myself included.” John gave her hand a small squeeze before he let it go. “You look...different,” he smiled politely.
“While you look even more dashing. You are kind, though the treatments have not been.”
“Oh, is it ...?”
She nodded and reached up to touch the back of her short hair. “The doctors tell me that my hair will return, along with my health. I am to be a success story, I am told. Now, no need to make a fuss, but that is why I am out here. I thought to seek treatment here, on the other side of the country, away from the prying eyes of Gotham and it helps that my doctor is here.”
“A sentiment I know only too well, escaping that city” John returned, and let his concerned look fade as she told him of her recovery. “Is this all that has brought you to Jump City?”
“That and the art,” she smiled.
He laughed and gave her a wink. “Then you have come to the right place. I have assembled one of the largest collections on either coast, and not just with paintings. Perhaps, if you'd permit me, I could give you a tour upstairs where I ke–”
John was cut short however, when a younger girl, one who looked fourteen or less, in a very frilly pink laced dress appeared at Melendy's side. She too had short hair, though not concerningly so, though somewhat messy. She wobbled in her pointy heels, and when John was about to ask, Melendy cut him off with an explanation.
“My sister. You'll have to forgive her, she was in Gotham and just arrived after such a long flight. Mother and father went to Italy to celebrate my recovery and well, she came to stay with me.”
“Ah, how...sisterly,” John decided and held out a hand. “John Marlowe, art collector and philanthropist.”
It took her a moment but the girl accepted the hand and then it took another moment to realize she was supposed to give her name. “Holly,” she instantly gave, but then flinched. “Hel–…oh shoot.
Melendy graced that over with another explanation. “She's embarrassed, no doubt, to meet someone so famous. I've told her a great deal about you.”
“Have you now,” John said as he seemed pleased by that and slid his hand away. “What has your sister been telling you about me?” He sounded very curious.
“That you first met in Gotham, though only twice, and both times at a Wayne function,” Holly recited, clearly glad to have something factual to rely on. “Your family is well established there, being among the city founders,” she smiled. “Handsome, smart, you have sixteen black belts or something like that and have collected art all your life, having built one of the most renowned collections in all of the world.”
“Well, I do hate the brag,” John chuckled. “Perhaps I should steal Holly away from you Melendy, to have her introduce me everywhere, my word!”
“Sorry, she stays with me,” Melendy said in a tone that quickly silenced John's chuckle.
“I didn't mean...not like,” he fumbled at first but then quieted again. “Well, I should see to my other guests,” he apologized with a glance. “Since you're in town, perhaps we can get together Melendy. See each other without a roomful of people all around,” which he ended on a wince as he realized he might of done it again.
“It's okay,” Melendy soothed and reached to touch his arm, as Holly peered up at her sister. “I'd like that. I look forward to it.”
“In the meantime,” he nodded, glad to hear her acceptance, “if there's anything you might want of me, it's yours.”
“Thank you,” Melendy said as she released him, and before he went she added, “I might even be kind enough to ask politely before I do.” They all smiled and parted ways.
“How's yours?”
“Good,” mumbled Holly around her spoonful of frozen yogurt. Selina quickly dipped her spoon into Holly's bowl to find out for herself and gave a solid 'mmm' of agreement. Holly looked aghast but then dipped her spoon into Selina's to steal an equal amount in return. After they left the Marlowe gala, there had been a 'Yo-Go!' place open late on the monorail station, so they had decided to make a quick stop. Half a cup down each, they were half-way back to their hotel.
“So, that was something,” Holly said as she looked sidelong to Selina. She fidgeted in her seat as she just couldn't get comfortable in her dress, despite having been in it for hours now. “I don't think I have ever seen so many different types of cheeses before.”
“You were at that chocolate fondue fountain for the better part of an hour.”
“You were just tailing that John Marlowe guy. I was bored, and besides,” Holly admitted, “it took me nearly that long to figure out what it was.”
“Your first time having it, huh?”
“You're changing the subject,” Holly decided. “You sure were interested in him.”
“It's not like that,” Selina assured her 'sister'. “Trust me, he's not my type.”
“You mean handsome, wealthy and charming?”
Selina elected to not answer that as she silenced herself with a mouthful of frozen yogurt. “Did you take an inventory of the place, like I suggested?”
“Fourteen hidden cameras?” When Selina shook her head, Holly sighed. “How many did I miss?”
“There were at least twice that and there were sensors on all the windows and doors. He's got the place locked up tight.”
“Which means that it's going to be hard to get in.”
“Which means,” Selina corrected her, “that there's something very valuable in there worth liberating.”
Holly agreed with a nod. “So, our provider came through for us.” Holly sounded surprised.
“We'll see, but sure seems like it. He was right about John being here in Jump City, and about all of the security, and he was even right about Marlowe being in with the Dragon Fangs. A couple of the faces from the dossier were there tonight,” Selina noted.
“Dragon Fangs is the gang that's moved in here, right? Why not just steal from them? I mean, the police won't care if you take their money and hurting them is sure to persuade anyone heroic to not look for you.”
“True, but the last thing we need right now is someone else following us,” Selina nodded, to which Holly had to wince. Selina was right. “If Mr. Black's info is good, then we only missed our tail by a matter of hours in Chicago. So, let's not add to our number of pursuers just yet.”
“You think Marlowe won't be out to get us?”
“I don't intend to leave him with enough to have that option?”
“Oh,” Holly gave, but then wondered, “what did he do to merit such... well, I mean, did he ever...?”
“No,” Selina said and sounded far away, as Holly wondered if she had pushed too much. “Not him,” Selina gave, “but his father, a couple of times.”
Holly understood and kept silent to show it. Selina's appetite was gone and she was finished with her bowl despite it not being all gone. They rode in silence for several blocks.
“Next one is us,” Holly pointed out as she finished off her bowl and got to her wobbly feet. “I can't wait to get out of these things.”
“I thought you'd rather get out of the dress more, though pink is just so cute on you,” Selina teased as she joined Holly on her feet.
“Ugh, that too,” Holly sighed. “I can't believe I fell for the 'let me pick something out for you' thing. The next time that I let you drag me to one of these things, I dress myself,” she decided. That's when the doors opened and they both got off for the short walk back to the hotel.
“Fair enough,” Selina agreed and linked arms with Holly as they stepped off together and headed out the terminal. “Thanks for coming along. I wanted to get you out and let you see how the other half live. That, and to treat you to thirty different kinds of cheese.”
“Thirty-four,” Holly corrected her. “I know, I counted. It wasn't only fondue I was staring at.”
Selina gave her arm a squeeze and released her to walk beside her. “As soon as we're back we'll have to go out again.” Holly moaned a groan to that and her paced slowed for a couple of steps. “So I guess that means you'll be staying in, and you're not going to come with me to pick up my new 'dress'?”
Holly considered it but then nodded. Selina stopped by a bench they were about to pass and lowered sidelong beside it. “Hopefully Gambi will take an I.O.U. as at least his great uncle Paul used to,” Selina continued to talk though she peered under the bench. Holly stopped and looked back, in time to see the dirty white face of a scrawny kitten. Selina held out her unfinished yogurt and the scarily small thing scurried into her open hand.
“Looks like I'll be entertaining company while you're out.”
“Fluffystein, meet Holly. Holly, Fluffystein.” The kitten ignored them both as it rumbled with purring around lickings of frozen yogurt. Apparently, it liked vanilla. Selina held him close as she stood and resumed walking with Holly. “How do you feel about robbing a man blind, Fluffy?” The kitten kept on licking away madly.
In the end, a little charm helped to convince Martin Gambi to accept payment in a couple of days. Her little act lead him to believe she was purrrrfectly capable of pulling off her intended heist, and the offer to double his fee went a longer way.
The finished product looked great and fit her better than a glove. The gear she had 'liberated' from LexCorp was now meshed in seamlessly with her black bodysuit (compliments of Talia). The broadcast scanner headset, which would allow her to scan for and monitor local transmissions, had been set into an eared mask. The ultra-vision goggles might be able to look through walls and do things like infrared signaturing, but Gambi had warned he could do nothing for the red tint to the lenses. The deceleration pads had been worked into her clawed gloves and the soles of Dr. Thompkins’ boots. Her whip now had a circular casing mounted on her back, while the front buckle of her belt had the sensitive surveillance/recorder device. The re-breather was on one side compartment of the belt, while on the other Gambi had fitted it with a pouch that folded out into satchel, good for carrying any valuables she made off with.
In all, it was the most functional costume she had ever worn. Sleek, slick and no-nonsense. It was far less 'villainess' and much more 'thief' which is just what she wanted. However, Gambi had disregarded her request for the zipper to be anywhere in the front, and when she tried it on to have him request she not need to zip it all the way up...it was to slap him for it.
She looked good in this. She felt better. She was as ready as she was going to be for the biggest take of her life so far.
A girl had best be ready to steal fifty million dollars.
The escape from Metropolis had been by bus.
That gave the girls plenty of time to recover and rest up, as well as they could sleeping on a bus, before they arrived in Jump City on the West Coast. Selina had traveled the length of the country with Holly, and perhaps the most surprising fact about it was that they had made it. Superman hadn't chased them down and there were still no signs of Batman, so that was good.
Holly's hands had come a long way and not long before they rolled into the city, they had taken the mittens off. Whatever Leslie Thompkins had done, it had worked miracles. Selina wished she could say the same for her hair, which was little more than a covering of stubble right now. However, the purpose in shaving it bare had paid off, as it had allowed her to slip out of Gotham and into LexCorp. She was just glad it was growing back.
Selina had returned from a trip out to purchase supplies when she found Holly at her new laptop, setting it up. They'd bought it with the last of the cash lifted from Lois Lane's purse, and with it they'd managed to make contact with their 'provider'. It was good to see Holly using her fingers again, though Selina worried about how pink they looked.
The hotel didn't have much room, so Selina shuffled past the bed to store the things she'd picked up. “You got the bandages off just in time to play with fire again,” she chuckled.
“How do you mean?” Holly sounded worried.
“You know, with the candles at least. On your cake?” Holly looked perplexed, so Selina explained after she rolled her eyes. “It's your birthday in three days.” The day after the take on Marlowe.
“Oh!” Holly's eyes got wide, as she had forgotten.
“Start thinking of what you want, kiddo. It's the big six-teen. I hear it's supposed to be the sweetest of them all.”
Holly rubbed her newly returned fingers together. “Oh, I will.”
If the information was good and to be trusted, then the security at Marlowe's mansion would be light. Not only did he fancy himself some kind of zen master combatant with multiple degrees of black to his belts, but the posh elder mansion John had purchased had little pre-installed. Fresh to town, Marlowe didn't have anything added yet. Besides, if the tip from their provider was right, then most everything she had seen on display in that mansion the other night was a fake. An amazing forgery. Selina was impressed, because she was hard to fool, but the replications that littered his mansion were all amazing duplicates. That was another reason, she suspected, that security was light, because it then practically an invitation for theft, which would allow John Marlowe to cash in on some sweet insurance money.
John Marlowe was from old Gotham money, some of the oldest and thus also the deepest. However, while others thrived on their inheritance, like Bruce Wayne, Marlowe seemed shamed by it. He'd basically locked it all away into secure accounts and gone on to essentially rebuilt his financial empire through his work as an art collector and dealer. That alone had been nothing short of impressive, and if Marlowe sought to remake himself, then Selina would help him.
It was his private vault that concerned her, and thus records and access to all of that stockpiled family wealth.
They'd have to wait for nightfall and so they had the day to kill.
Breakfast had been light and then they had gone in search of Fluffystein, who was nowhere to be found, at least not where they're first encountered him. After lunch, the girls took in the sights, such as they were, as come tomorrow they'd be gone and likely never to return to this city.
With Coast City further along the shore and Los Angeles not too far away, the city had the feel of a suburb to both, and certainly caught in the middle. Holly described it as 'cartoony' because it was almost comical how it was so very night and day from one end to the other. There was the posh, clearly wealth-based population inland with the desperately poor huddled to the docks with all of the brightly-lit desperation meeting them in the middle for a very busy commercial center. Most of the commerce seemed wrapped up in entertainment, as you couldn't go a block without a coffee shop, a restaurant or two, a theatre and a music store. There was a buzz on the crowded streets at the core, from buskers to would-be's to spectators, and then an eerie silence to either extreme of the city.
First they visited what was touted as the largest bookstore west of Midway, but found the entire-block-sized store to have been converted into a sprawling lazy shopping plaza of pretentious vinyl record camps and makeshift bandstands, with very few books. The Main Terminal, the central hub for all of the monorails, was supposed to have a tiled mural blessed by previous visiting saints, but they found it plastered over with a carpet of old band posters. They at least looked at the outside of the aquarium before they turned away, as it was right on the docks, but clearly hadn't been an aquatic museum in over a decade as now it was a rundown soup kitchen.
Holly picked out lunch and on the way back to the hotel they found Fluffystein once again, who tagged along and joined them for a movie. It was a bad sci-fi movie that none of them made it all the way through, as a nap claimed each one of them.
Holly had found the listing for the mansion from before Marlowe bought it, which listed among its features a safe room. That would make an idea vault, Catwoman reasoned, and surely there would be an accessway to that from the master bedroom. Nightfall was barely an hour old when she found the sliding panel that lead the way in and down to it.
The security had been laughable, as what little there was consisted mostly of cameras and she'd even discovered an unlocked window to slip in through. There appeared to be no staff, and John Marlowe himself wasn't to be found in his own bed. They had picked this night in particular as Marlowe was scheduled to appear at a gallery downtown, showcasing his collection to the locals.
The lock took some time, but soon Catwoman was past that too and into the safe room. “Well, look at that,” she whistled as she peered around the sizeable vault. The panic room was bigger in size than most apartments, and the open space was filled with a variety of genuine artistic treasures. Selina stopped to admire several pieces before she reminded herself of why she was here and moved on to locate the safe. That took some time too, but with a little patience and steady fingers she rotated the dial this way and that, and soon it popped open.
Quickly, Catwoman shuffled the papers for the bonds John had converted his family's fortune over into, as well as the various stocks she could grab, into her collapsible satchel on her hip. As she did, all she could think about was John's father Jerry, and how he'd paid for the opportunity to slap her around. He'd been the first to hit her, but not the last…but still the one that stung the most. He'd shortchanged her those nights, saying she put up too much of a struggle, and now she was only too happy to collect. Her informant had been right, as fifty-one point four million wasn't a bad take at all.
Catwoman crept up the hallway from the panic room back to the master bedroom and slipped out past the sliding panel walling. She managed to emerge, which caused the panel to slide shut again behind her, in time to hear someone at the entryway address her.
“That's far enough, Catwoman.”
“I didn't expect you home for at least another couple of hours,” she steadied herself as she faced him. “You're supposed to be at a gala, in your own honor.”
“But I am,” John Marlowe smiled. Before Catwoman could inquire about that, he charged her. With the tight quarters of the corridor she was in, Selina had nowhere to go – that is, except up. She leapt as he came at her and used her claws to cling, just long enough for Marlowe to pass underneath her. Catwoman dropped and kicked in one fluid motion, and as she put the sole of her boot to the back of his neck John went down unconscious.
Time to get out of here, she thought and raced for the end of the passageway. She reached the open window she'd entered, but that's when she was grabbed by the neck and hauled back, only to be flung into the very room she'd meant to flee.
“As I said, that's far enough,” said John Marlowe again, though this one was different. There was no way that he could have come from where she left him in that hidden hallway to where she'd sprinted to in time to have grabbed her like he did. Or to change into the tuxedo he was now wearing. “I had to race back here to catch you.” He shrugged off his jacket as she scrambled to her feet, and while he undid the cufflinks to roll up his sleeves, she kept low.
“You didn't have to go to all that trouble for little ol' me,” she smiled. He's rather attractive, she thought, really looking at him now as she realized she never really had before. It was almost a shame to think of how scarred she was apt to leave him.
“I'm afraid I did,” he smiled as he then kicked off his shoes. “I mean, I don't know what you're making off with there,” he nodded towards the satchel on her hip, “but it's mine and I'd like to keep it.”
“It's something that's more mine than yours,” she spat, unable to hide her anger. “Something owed to me by the one that earned it.”
“My father?” John looked genuinely confused at that.
That was her opportunity. Catwoman pounced, but John proved to be quick as he swept an arm around to swat her away from him. She landed but lunged again, her claws out and he jumped aside. She came at him again, but he blocked her strike and then kicked at her midsection, which she narrowly avoided but failed to avoid his grab as he wretched and tossed her again.
Catwoman hit the carpet and rolled, which allowed her to avoid his stomp. Instead of going further, she then rolled back towards him and kicked up. Her boot took him under the chin but he grabbed her again, this time by the ankle. Selina yelped in pain as he twisted her leg and it took her a second before she moved with it to save dislocation. She snarled and kicked his knee with her free foot which caused him to let her go.
John went to a knee. “I don't know what this has to do with my fath–”
“You don't need to!” Catwoman paced back a step, which was well-timed as Marlowe charged at her again. He vaulted up and over him and her feet came down to meet his back as he passed, so that she kicked off of him to launch even further away. “It's been fun but,” she gave back as she ran towards the window in front of her, “It's time to go...!”
Catwoman altered her course as she dove to the side, having caught a glimpse of the figure on the other side of the glass. The window shattered as the dark-clad man crashed through it, his weapon drawn. Garbed only in black, the man drew a stick that with a snap and a click extended to a bo staff. He turned, and his masked face had two glowing blue lenses of his tight goggles.
“Catwoman,” he rasped, his voice harsh, like garbled whispers. “I am Shadowstep of the League of Shadows and I have been sent to ensure you breathe no more; that the last of your steps have been taken; that yo–”
Catwoman sighed sharply. “You're the best that Talia could come up with? Or the cheapest?”
Shadowstep had no way to express being so affronted, but Selina took his silence as cause to smile. So she went on. “Consider yourself lucky, as this is the closest you're ever going to get to me. And when you have to report your failure at letting me get away, well…tsk-tsk.”
The mysterious assassin had heard enough. “You will not get away,” he intoned and advanced towards her.
That's when Marlowe tackled him from behind. “No, she's mine to deal with! It's me she stole from!”
Shadowstep shrugged John off but Marlowe landed well and jumped again. Shadowstep spun and struck out with his bo staff, but Marlowe took it to his side and hooked an arm over it to pin it to his side. “You are not the first she has, but you shall be the last,” the whispering assassin assured Marlowe, but to no avail as John pressed his advantage. He yanked on the captured staff, which Shadowstep let go of. This freed the dark-clad man to move forward, as Shadowstep kicked high. John blocked this, but with both arms busy was unable to block the next strike, a powerful kick to his chest.
Marlowe collapsed to the floor and wheezing for breath. Shadowstep moved forward and grabbed his staff, but when he turned back...
Catwoman was gone.
“She's gone already,” winced Tyrone as he hobbled into the back of the black SUV. His knee throbbed painfully and the mouthfulls of painkillers he took did little to dull the pain. Tyrone stowed his crutches and used his hands to lift his cast-covered leg in along with him.
She made an irritated noise, either from the news or perhaps with how long her help was taking to get into the vehicle with her.
It had been a long drive from Gotham City, and already they had been dangerously behind everywhere they had gone. She had wasted precious time guessing where it was Selina Kyle might have run off to or have hidden, as she knew beyond all doubt that Catwoman was still alive. Roman...Roman was likely alive as well, but it suited her better to go with the assumption that he had died in the explosion at his mansion. That served to help motivate the men – her men now – for this wild hunt to find his killer, to find Catwoman.
She wore all white, crisp and perfectly spotlessly clean; a powersuit of purity, as was befitting her chosen name…Saint. What she chose to wear over her ruined face was a symbol to her devoted followers, an homage, a tribute and a stark mask to harden her resolve; a black skeletal mask.
Beside her sat Crispin Rothgard, holding her hand, as his weapons and men were among the assets at her disposal. He also wore a suit of pure white and his once handsome face now had two red scarred vertical streaks over his cheeks. “We got here too late,” he cursed. “She's already left town,” he asked to Tyrone, who nodded. “What do you want to do now, my sweet Syvlia?”
“I told you,” she growled as she turned to show him her icy stare, “we follow her wherever she runs, wherever she hides. We hound her until we have her corpse to dance on.” She grinned, showing him her teeth.
She reached to Crispin and her hand touched his cheek. He flinched, but didn't draw away and, in fact, leaned into it a touch. She stroked his scar. “She's hurt us, left us broken, but not beaten. She's hurt us,” Syvlia then turned to look at Tyrone as she lovingly caressed Crispin's cheek.
“But she won't hurt us ever again.”
Her hand then drew back as she slapped Crispin hard.
“I won't remind you again, however. It's now your sweet ...the Black Mask.”
The Jump City airport wasn't a fun place to be, especially when trapped at the nearly abandoned Terminal C. Several posters promised 'Undergoing Renovations!' but they had been posted and dated three years ago, so it was yet more promised unkempt in this place Holly decided. Still, soon they'd be out of here, as their departure was less than half an hour away.
She was seated with Selina and had only the janitorial staff to keep the company, who by the looks of things didn't really care if they did their jobs or not. Selina had gone silent, thinking about something she wasn't sharing, so Holly took the opportunity to use the airport's wifi to check in with their contact and arranger. Once that was done she snapped the laptop shut and made a display of putting it away, but when that failed to call Selina out of her reverie, she spoke. “So, Mr. Font says he's sorry for the airline we're stuck going on, but it was the best he could do on such short notice. Not many airlines will fly into Bialya, which is where I guess our next gig is. Our first one really, since this was more a ‘set ourselves up' kind of job. Bialya, though, it's the Queen's that requested your presence, or at least your services.”
“It's fine,” Selina gave.
Holly frowned. “I don't like it when you go distant on me, 'sis'.” The whole 'traveling sisters' act was the easiest story to use when moving about, they're decided, perhaps because it was the one that rang the most true. Thus, it was the easiest to play. “You got your revenge, for what the senior Marlowe did, right? You feel better about it?”
“Not really,” Selina smiled a sigh to Holly as she looked back, her green eyes dulled. She took a breath. “The fifty-two reasons to get over it will help,” she smiled a little bigger.
“More like thirty, after Mr. Font's cut,” Holly reminded her with a scrunching of the lips.
Selina nodded and that smile faded. Holly looked worried again, but then Selina turned to pick up her carry-on. “That reminds me,” the elder 'sister' managed to grin as she zipped open her bag and drew out a package. It was wrapped in newspaper and costuming tape, but it was evident what it was. “Happy birthday, Holly.”
Before Holly could unwrap it, Selina went on. “Listen, I don't know where all of this is going, not exactly, and I can't promise you anything, so if...”
“I'm with you,” Holly smiled, and that was all either of them needed.
“Well, go on, open it,” Selina urged.
Holly gave a good yank and the newsprint came apart easily. Inside was a Jump City souvenir t-shirt, but bundled inside that was a packet of passports and licenses and other traveling documents, each one with an identity for the sister to the ones that Selina carried with her.
Speechless, Holly embraced Selina, which is when boarding for their flight was called.
They collected their things and Selina gave a silent farewell to her homeland as she didn't know when she'd be back, and as she got on her plane, she knew she had no intention of returning.
|
|
The End...
Previous Issue | Next Issue