Free Batman 3 - Batman Forever by Peter David Page A

at it.
    The unblemished head looked back at him.
    “Fortune smiles upon you, my friend,” Two-Face said gently. “Another day of wine and roses, or in your case, beer and pizza.”
    The guard sobbed with relief, and hated himself all the more for the weakness.
    Two-Face snapped his fingers, twice. The thugs converged on the guard. One lifted him up by his bound arms, another by his legs.
    “You said you’d let me live.”
    “Too true. And so you shall. Nothing better than live bait to trap a bat.”
    Two-Face nodded to the two guards, who carried Tully away to fulfill his function in Two-Face’s scheme. One of the thugs stepped forward and said with just a hint of annoyance, “Too many witnesses. We shoulda just killed him . . .”
    Two-Face appeared to give the matter a moment’s thought, and then he flipped the coin. This time he didn’t let it fall, but snatched it out of the air and slapped it onto the back of his hand.
    The scarred side was visible.
    Before the thug even had time to register the significance of the decision, Two-Face roared. His hand shot out, pinning the thug’s throat to the wall. He shoved his face into the thug’s and snarled, “You stinking piece of virus-breeding rat droppings. Did you question our coin?”
    “Boss . . . you’re . . . you’re hurting me . . .” he managed to get out.
    “Oh, are we?” Two-Face thrust his face even closer, and the petrified thug felt his foul breath blowing at him. “Look at this face. Look closer! Do you think there’s anything on earth we don’t know about pain?”
    And then he started slapping the thug across the face, each smack punctuating the next four words: “. . . Never . . . Argue . . . With . . . Us! You got it?” he bellowed.
    He released his grip on the thug, who promptly sank to the floor. “Anything you say. Boss,” he managed to get out between bleeding lips.
    Two-Face nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Excellent response.”
    He walked away from the thug and stepped over toward the window, taking care not to present a target. Far below him, in the heart of Pan-Asia town, he could see the SWAT teams and police wagons, the spotlights that had been set up, everyone scurrying around as if any of their activities had the slightest meaning or importance to him.
    All of it was irrelevant.
    Only one being had anything to do with anything . . . and anything to do with him.
    “You’re all little bugs,” he murmured. “We are waiting . . . for the big bug.”
    “How do you know he’ll be here?” asked Chase Meridian. Commissioner James Gordon, wishing like hell that his bad heart hadn’t forced him to give up smoking, chewed on a breadstick as he surveyed the heavens. The Bat-Signal continued, unblinking. “He will be.”
    “You don’t know for sure,” pressed Dr. Meridian. “He could be out of town, or sick. He could be dead. The man behind the mask might have suffered a nice, simple embolism and be lying on a slab somewhere with a tag on his toe. Being bigger than life doesn’t guarantee a spectacular or heroic death. Look at Lawrence of Arabia.”
    “I don’t get out to movies much,” replied Gordon. He swiveled his gaze towards her. “Is there some point to this, Doctor?”
    “I’m wondering why you have such unflappable confidence in him? Is it the cape? The mask? That emblem?”
    “I don’t appreciate the condescension, Doctor.”
    “My apologies,” she said.
    “You want to know why I have confidence in him?”
    “Yes.”
    He pointed towards the Bat-Signal, which was suddenly blocked out by a swinging figure. “That’s why,” he said.
    Batman dropped down, face-to-face with Dr. Chase Meridian.
    The meeting had been a long time coming for her. She had built up a variety of no-nonsense, or various businesslike introductions to make.
    “Hot entrance,” she heard a voice that sounded remarkably like her own and, even more astonishingly, passing through her lips. Inside her there was an agonized Oh my Godddd