Batgirl in Pain

Robin slammed his right green-gloved fist into his left palm. "Holy Sisyphus! There are still fourteen of them on the loose!"

"Very appropriate reference, old chum," complimented Batman. "Your extra mythology studies have paid off."

"Thank you, Batman," Robin replied modestly.

"It does seem we've gone through an awful lot to still have so many escapees still out there," Batgirl said wistfully. "Please tell me, Commissioner," Batgirl's voice faltered just a bit as she tried extra hard to disguise her tones so her father wouldn't recognize that it was his own daughter speaking to him, "have there been any recent sightings of these villains?"

The Gotham City Police Commissioner consulted some papers on his desk. If he had any idea that Barbara Gordon had posed the question, he didn't show it, "Well, Batgirl, the top lieutenants of The Penguin and The Riddler were captured during that affair involving Simon, The Pieman. Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, was at least tangentially involved with Falseface's attempt to oust Mayor Linseed. We've had reports that The Bookworm is setting up some sort of operation in the city. That girl Vixen you captured stated that she had accompanied Egghead for a while and a County Sheriff's deputy thought she saw him near a chicken ranch last week."

"That's all the information we have, Caped Crusaders," Chief O'Hara concluded for his boss. The five crime-busters, three colorfully costumed, one in a police uniform and one in a business suit, agreed that there was nothing more to be accomplished at this week's meeting. The two city officials remained at their post, while Batgirl and the Dynamic Duo went their separate ways.

The Batmobile roared past the last dwellings of suburban Gotham on its fourteen mile trip from the city to Wayne Manor. While keeping his eyes on the road, Batman asked his young partner a very important question, "Robin, has Dick Grayson decided yet where he is going to college?"

Dick had agonized over this issue for some time. There was no doubt in his own mind that he was going to college . . . and he could go to any school in the world he wanted.

Dick Grayson would be giving the valedictory address at his high school graduation tomorrow. He also had a perfect SAT score and had demonstrated athletic prowess in track and field. Of course, the cost of college was not a consideration for millionaire Bruce Wayne's ward. Bruce had already told him that they would quietly return any scholarships Dick won so the money could be used by some needy student.

Naturally, Grayson had been accepted at the only three schools to which he applied: Gotham State University, Yale and Stanford. Choosing among them was difficult.

GSU was a good school, but it was no Yale or Stanford. If Dick went to Gotham State, he could continue to live at Wayne Manor and Robin could continue pretty much as before . . . but a part of him yearned for independence.

Dick was attracted to the idea of attending an Ivy League School. He found Yale's Gothic campus compelling. With Amtrak's new high-speed rail system in the Northeast, New Haven was less than two hours away from Gotham City. He would be his own boss, but Robin could be at Batman's side in a couple of hours in case of an emergency.

Heading out to California would give Richard Grayson maximum freedom. He would truly be on his own. If he matriculated to Stanford and Robin was to continue fighting crime, it would have to be almost exclusively on the West Coast.

Aunt Harriet was another consideration. She had not tried to influence Dick one way or the other - in fact, she insisted that he make up his own mind. If Dick stayed at Wayne Manor, so would Aunt Harriet . . . but would that be doing her a favor? Dick had no intention of living with Bruce after college. Perhaps it would be better if Aunt Harriet went back to being on her own now, while she was still able to be relatively active.

Then there were the factors the Boy Wonder never discussed with Batman or Bruce. His girlfriends, such as they were: Susie, Flamebird and maybe, just maybe, Batgirl.

Susie, with the help of a Wayne Foundation Scholarship, was going to Gotham State U. Robin guessed that Flamebird was still in an area high school and there seemed little doubt that Batgirl was in Gotham City for good. Only if he stayed home and went to school locally would he get to continue to see them on a regular basis.

On the other hand, the prospect of meeting new friends at college was exciting. In addition, if he went to Stanford, his new friend DynaGirl would not be that far away . . .

Graduation Day for Woodrow Roosevelt High dawned to a clear blue sky. Principal Schoolfield was glad that the commencement ceremonies could be held outside on the football field as the senior class had wanted.

Taking advantage of the combination of Daylight Savings Time and the long hours of sunshine in late spring, graduation was scheduled to begin at 7:00 p.m.. All the adult speakers were settled in their seats on the dais constructed on the middle of the gridiron as Barbara Gordon made her way down the left aisle.

Barbara was glad she hadn't missed the beginning of the exercise. She had become engrossed in a question posed by a patron at the library and had lost track of the time. Barbara was relieved to see that her father had saved her an aisle seat in the second row. On Commissioner Gordon's left sat Bruce Wayne, Harriet Cooper and Alfred Pennyworth.

The Woodrow Roosevelt High School Band began to play Pomp and Circumstances. Leading the Class of 2000 into the seats in the center section was Dick Grayson. Barbara glanced past her father at Bruce, Mrs. Cooper and Alfred.

‘What a strange little "family" Dick has,' Barbara thought. As she looked at the pride beaming from the three faces, however, she knew that no father or mother could ever have given Dick any more love and support than these three people had. ‘The circus orphan turned out all right,' Babs said to herself as she settled back in her metal folding chair.

As Barbara gazed ahead as the seniors continued to file in, she was barely aware that she noticed that one of the speakers seemed much larger than the other people on the stage. This person would soon command her full attention.

After the last senior found a seat, the band brought their piece to a close. Principal Schoolfield then made the customary opening remarks. Woodrow Roosevelt had already had a separate "Awards Day" program, but Schoolfield liked to give the Perfect Attendance awards to the seniors at graduation. In order, the students with one, two, three and then four years of perfect high school attendance were called forward to receive pins and plaques.

Finally, when all this was over, the high school principal introduced the Salutatorian. It would have been Dean Owens, if not for the fact that he was in Juvenile Detention for his involvement with Playgirl. Instead, Valerie Johns received the honor of being the first student to speak. At the end of her speech, she had the task of introducing the commencement speaker.

"Ladies and gentleman, parents, families, friends and Class of 2000, we of Woodrow Roosevelt High are particularly pleased this evening to be able to present tonight's graduation speaker. This man was born in a prison in his Caribbean republic. For the first thirty years of his life, he never ventured beyond the walls of that jail.

"During his unjust confinement, however, through shear force of will, he trained his mind and body. He completed a daily regimen of strenuous exercise. He read every book in the prison library, memorizing the contents of several sets of encyclopedias. Now, he serves as the delegate to the United World from his country.

"It is my great privilege to introduce the Ambassador from Santa Prisca, Senor Pena Duro!"

Barbara could hardly believe her eyes as the figure strode to the podium. He appeared to stand almost eight feet tall! His expensive, well-tailored suit could not conceal the fact that he possessed a tremendous physique. ‘No, it couldn't be!' Barbara thought.

Polite applause turned first to stunned silence and then to wild cheering as the magnificent specimen of humanity adjusted the microphone stand to its limit. He still had to bend over quite a bit to speak directly into the mike.

At his first words, all doubt was removed for Barbara Gordon. This man, this Ambassador Duro, was the same person who had defeated Batgirl twice in combat . . . and who Batgirl had only managed to beat in a third encounter thanks to a pair of heavy Indian clubs that were fortunately laying nearby. He seemed perhaps just a bit smaller, but it was him. He was . . .

BANE!

Nora Clavicle thought she had killed Bane when she had pumped six bullets into his chest, but she did not know, could not have known, of the recuperative power of the Venom coursing through his veins. He had been able to paddle his way underneath the pier until Nora was long gone. Then, it was a simple matter to return to the Santa Prisca consulate, where his wounds received attention.

Bane had climbed to a position of wealth and power in his homeland. He had adopted as his own the name of the prison in which he grew up. He could have been ruler of his tiny island country, but Bane had his sights set upon bigger game. Instead, he had himself made his country's representative to the United World, so he could come to Gotham City in an official capacity.

In prison he had heard tales of the greatest city in the world, Gotham City, U.S.A., and its "ruler," The Batman. He had decided that was the only goal worthy of him: to come to America, defeat The Batman and claim Gotham City as his own.

His plan was to first work as a henchman for one of Gotham's self-styled "super-villains." That would allow him to learn the "lay of the land." Minerva had served her purpose well, but Batgirl had proven to be a surprise.

Bane had considered Batman's allies, Robin and Batgirl, to be at most minor annoyances. His experience with Batgirl, however, had forced him to re-adjust his thinking. Now, their destruction would be the third step in the defeat of Batman.

He had preferred to have the second part of his plan carried out by someone else, to keep his participation from the Caped Crusader. That is why he had hired Nora Clavicle to release all the incarcerated super-criminals. Their activities would not only serve to wear Batman and his friends down, but would also give Bane the opportunity to observe the Dark Knight in action.

What Bane hadn't considered was that the woman Clavicle might have her own agenda. That was the second time he had underestimated one of these American women. He would not make that mistake again.

During his recuperation, Bane had made contact with a new ally. In exchange for a promise, this ally gave Bane information of inestimable value, information Bane would soon put to use.

The news that Nora Clavicle had been sent to Gotham State Penitentiary neither pleased nor bothered him. Bane would have plenty of time for revenge upon Ms. Clavicle after Batman was destroyed. Now it was time to take care of Robin and Batgirl.

Bane concluded his address. His remarks were warmly received. As he stood basking in the acclaim, he knew his time had arrived.

He had insisted to the school administrators that he be given the honor of introducing the Valedictorian. Motioning for the crowd to be quiet, he began in his Spanish accent, "Senors, Senoras and Senoritas - it is my honor to introduce the Valedictorian of Gotham City's Woodrow Roosevelt High School Class of 2000, Mr. Richard Grayson!"

As Dick made his way up the stairs, even Barbara Gordon did not notice Bane depressing the top of the massive ring on his right hand. Barbara had decided that there wasn't anything Batgirl could do about Bane for the moment. After all, what was he going to do, anyway, attack the student body? Besides, there was now the nagging question of diplomatic immunity.

Dick grasped Bane's mammoth hand. Although Dick's grip was strong, his fingers disappeared in Bane's. The teen didn't even feel the pinprick on his hand.

Dick had spent hours on his speech. He had written a moving piece about prejudice, value systems and personal responsibilities. The entire audience was giving him their rapt attention, when suddenly, he felt dizzy.

Many times as Robin, Dick had been subjected to knock out gas and drugs. Somehow, though, this felt different. The words on the papers in front of him became blurred. He tried to continue from memory, but his voice gave out. He felt alternately red hot and ice cold. Beads of sweat started to form all over his body. Finally, he collapsed, knocking the podium over as he fell.

Barbara, Commissioner Gordon and Bruce rushed to the fallen young man. All thoughts of Bane flew from Barbara's mind, replaced by concern for her teenaged friend. Principal Schoolfield quickly called for an ambulance. The 911 dispatcher could hardly believe her ears. She had often sent an ambulance to the high school football field during a game, but for a graduation?

Dr. Vince at Gotham City Hospital re-checked the chart for the third time. He could hardly believe what the test results were telling him. Dick Grayson was getting steadily worse . . . and now he knew why.

The physician called Mr. Wayne aside. Commissioner Gordon and Barbara had stayed for a while, but Jim had returned to his duties and Barbara had gone back to her apartment. Alfred had taken Aunt Harriet down to the hospital cafeteria at the doctor's suggestion. "Mr. Wayne, has your ward taken a trip to Africa recently?"

"Why no, Doctor," Bruce replied with concern. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Dr. Vince began, ducking the question, "has he been in close contact with anyone who has been there?"

Bruce briefly thought about J. R. Ewing and his trip to the Middle East, but Robin was never that close to him and that was hardly Africa. "No. Now, Doctor, tell me, what have you learned?"

"Mr. Wayne . . ." Dr. Vince started haltingly, a somber expression on his face, "somehow, somewhere, your ward has contracted a variant of . . .

"the Ebola virus."

"What!?!?"

At that moment, a pretty young nurse walked up to the pair. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Wayne?"

"Not now, Nurse Kelly!" Dr. Vince snapped.

"But Mr. Wayne," the nurse persisted, "there's a telephone call for you. The man on the other end says it's important . . . and that it has something to do with your ward's condition!"

Despair had fleetingly crossed Bruce Wayne's face. Now, his jaw set, he asked calmly, "Where can I take this call?"

"At the nurses' station." Bruce was led to the telephone.

"Hello, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Ah, Batman!" said a voice with a Spanish accent.

"What are you talking about?" Bruce demanded. "What do you know about what's wrong with my ward? Who is this?"

"I am the man who has exposed Robin, the Boy Wonder, to a new strain of the Ebola virus . . . and, unless you do exactly as I say, I will be the person responsible for his death in less than 24 hours!"

Bruce listened in shocked silence. He then hung up the phone as the connection was terminated.

"Who was it? What did he want?" Dr. Vince asked.

This time it was Bruce's turn to ignore questions. "Doctor, you were right. It is some sort of Ebola virus. Please, do what you can for Dick . . . but get him ready to be moved."

"What?!? Mr. Wayne, our facilities are second to none! I urge you to reconsider. Anything he needs -"

"Doctor, just do it," Bruce said sternly. "Please tell Mr. Pennyworth to take Mrs. Cooper home." Bruce called over his shoulder as he ran down the hall towards the exit, "Tell him I'll explain everything later, but that time is of the essence if Dick is to be saved!"

Bruce hailed a cab and quickly made his way to the Wayne Foundation Building. Once there, he took his private elevator to his penthouse office. Inside, he flipped a hidden switch and made his way into a secret room.

Bruce's fingers flew across a computer keyboard as he sent an urgent message to Batgirl's e-mail address. He then called Commissioner Gordon on an extension of the Hotline. "Commissioner, do everything you can think of to get a hold of Batgirl. A boy's life is at stake! I'll be in your office right away."

Batman then got a small yellow capsule from a cabinet and placed it in a vial. He hurriedly wrote some instructions on a sticky-note and wrapped in around the bottle. Moments later, the dark figure of Batman was swinging across the city scape, heading for Police Headquarters.

Commissioner Gordon had opened a window to take advantage of the pleasant spring evening air and the fact that his window was too high for most flying insects. Batman swung through into Gordon's office. "Batman! I've activated the Bat-Signal, sent Batgirl an e-mail and issued an All Points Bulletin on her. What's going on?"

"Commissioner, some madman, yet unknown, has infected Bruce Wayne's ward, Dick Grayson, with a deadly virus!"

"No! So that's why he collapsed at graduation tonight!"

"Yes, and this person demands that Batgirl drive Grayson in an ambulance to be delivered within the hour to Gotham City Hospital to a location to be given to her en route. There the boy will be given the antidote, but it's obviously a trap for Batgirl!

"I wish Batgirl had a cell-phone like Batwoman," Batman concluded.

"Yes, so do I," the Commissioner agreed. "Well, Batman, perhaps we can plant a tracking device on the ambulance or follow it by police helicopter or squad car?"

"He's thought of that, Commissioner," Batman explained. "He says the ambulance will detect any electronics and that if they are followed he will simply disappear . . . and let the boy die!"

"The devil!" Commissioner Gordon exclaimed.

"What boy? Dick Grayson??" a female voice asked. Batgirl had arrived!

"Batgirl! Thank heavens you're here!" her father gushed.

Batgirl figured that Chief O'Hara was off duty, but asked, "Batman, where's Robin?"

Batman turned away from his friends so they couldn't see the look in his eyes as he said, "He's not feeling very well."

Then, Batman continued, "Come on, Batgirl, we've got to get to Gotham City Hospital immediately. I'll fill you in on the way. Do you have your Batgirl cycle?"

"Yes, Batman."

"Good. I don't have the Batmobile here, so I'll ride with you."

Within minutes, Batman and Batgirl arrived at the hospital. The ambulance had already been delivered. Police had detained the driver, but it was quickly determined that he was an innocent college student. He had been recruited with a $100 bill by a young person in an EMT uniform who had told him that the ambulance was urgently needed back at the hospital.

After talking to the police and the doctor, Batman and Batgirl then had a serious discussion.

"Batgirl, even though Mr. Wayne and his ward are good friends of mine, I hate to ask you to do this. It is obviously a trap. We can't even be sure they will give Grayson the antidote . . . but, on the other hand, I don't think I'll be able to follow you without risking detection."

"Batman, I want to do this. Dr. Vince says there's nothing he can do to for the lad in the time available. Without the cure, he will die. Isn't that one reason we both took up crime fighting, to try to save innocent lives?"

Batman never felt so helpless . . . and so grateful. Ever since his parents' deaths, he had done everything for himself, except for help from Alfred . . . and later Dick. He would do anything for that boy . . . and now Robin's life was in the hands of this woman about whom he had, at first, had doubts, but who he now trusted completely.

Not revealing his and Robin's secret identity to her was not a matter of trust. It was a question of putting her and Bruce Wayne's friends and family at even greater risk . . .

. . . but now she and Dick were facing the ultimate risk and there was nothing neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne could do about it.

Batman told Batgirl he was going to leave and try to track down the villain some other way. Instead, he ducked into an unoccupied room and changed back to Bruce Wayne.

Bruce signed Dick out of the hospital. Two orderlies lifted the gurney with Dick's fever-wracked body into the back of the ambulance and secured it there. Bruce jumped in back. He took the vial out of his pocket and stuck it under Dick's pillow.

"Good luck, old chum. I hope you get to use this." Bruce squeezed his ward's hand and climbed out of the vehicle.

The Dominoed Daredoll then got behind the wheel. Batgirl drove off into the night, to her rendezvous with destiny . . .

"Hello, Batgirl," a voice said over the ambulance radio. "You are looking well."

"Is that you, Bane?" Batgirl shot back.

Bane eyes narrowed as he stared into his TV monitor. "My, I am impressed! How did you know that it was me?"

"Never mind that," Batgirl replied. "Just tell me where to find you, so I can save this boy's life."

Batgirl could contain herself no longer. "I had some respect for you, Bane, but that's all gone now: Putting an innocent teenager at risk just to get back at me!"

Bane's mind quickly digested Batgirl's comments. ‘Is it possible she does not know that Grayson is Robin?' he thought. Based upon her remarks, he guessed that it was. ‘Well, no sense telling her,' he decided. Instead, he said, "It just goes to show you how anxious I am to see you again, senorita!"

"Cut the chit-chat, you bastard!" Batgirl railed. "Where are you?!"

Bane pushed a button. "Just follow the map projected on your windshield. It will bring you right to me."

Batgirl drove the ambulance the rest of the way in silence. The map directed her to an old building on the outskirts of the city. About all that remained of the structure was a hole-filled roof and its supporting pillars. The walls of the building were virtually gone. There was, however, what appeared to be one enclosed room at the northeast corner. Bright moonlight and nearby security lamps gave the scene an eerie glow.

"Drive over next to that room, Batgirl," Bane commanded. "Then park, leave the keys in the ignition, get out and step away from the front of the ambulance.

"Oh, by the way," Bane added. "Leave your utility belt on the front seat. You will not be needing it."

Batgirl did as she was ordered. Two figures came out of the room. One was, of course, Bane. He was no longer in a suit and tie, but featured his usual look.

Stripped to the waist, Bane wore tight black pants tucked into heavy, knee-length black boots. Black, finger-less gloves were on his hands, while he sported a skin-tight black leather mask, completely covering his head and face, except for his eyes and mouth. Strapped on one forearm was the same strange contraption Batgirl had seen him use once before, with several tubes running up his left arm to the back of his mask. In that previous encounter, when Bane activated the device, as hard as it was to imagine, he seemed to become even bigger and stronger than before.

The other person was dressed in an Emergency Medical Technician's uniform. The figure had a white cap pulled low over the face. Of slight build, the person appeared fairly young, but it was impossible to tell whether the body belonged to a man or a woman. In the hands of the figure was what looked like a medical kit.

"Give Grayson the antidote!" Batgirl shouted.

"All right, Batgirl," Bane agreed. "My young friend will take care of that." Bane motioned to his partner. The faux EMT jumped into the back of the ambulance and went to work.

"And now, Batgirl, I have a score to settle with you!" Bane advanced menacingly towards the heroine. As he came, he pressed a switch on the mechanism mounted on his arm. Green fluid appeared to be flowing up one of the tubes on his arm to the back of his mask. With each step, Bane appeared to be getting larger and more muscular!

Batgirl considered her options. She could run away. Although her Batgirl heels weren't really built for speed, she doubted that the muscle-bound Bane would be much of a sprinter.

‘Was this all there was to this "trap?"' she wondered. ‘Just one on one with Bane?' If she fled, would something else come into play? Would they still save Dick, if they were going to in the first place? Even if that other person (who did seem vaguely familiar) did save him, then what would happen to the teenager?

‘No,' she decided. That was the overwhelming consideration. She had to stay and fight. Once Bane was defeated, she could then make sure that Dick was all right.

Defeating Bane, however, would be no easy task. He wouldn't underestimate her this time and there were no Indian clubs laying around. Perhaps she could find another weapon . . .

Bane continued his advance, growing not just in perspective, but in fact as he came. Hatred glowed in his eyes and a low guttural growl issued from his throat. For now, though, Batgirl had decided to stand her ground.

Batgirl feinted one of her classic Las Vegas chorus girl-style kicks, but instead dropped to her left knee and swept her right leg under Bane's feet. It felt like trying to cut tree trunks down, but the unexpected move did catch the giant off-guard and he fell to the ground.

Batgirl then sprang up and did a backflip over Bane's supine body. She then bent over and smacked him square on the nose with the heel of her palm. Batgirl could feel the cartilage break from the blow. Blood poured out from under the mask.

The Dominoed Daredoll continued to press her advantage. She clapped both hands over where she guessed Bane's ears would be. The Hispanic roared with pain and anger.

Although he sounded like a wounded animal, Bane was far from a mindless beast. He was, in fact, the most cunning opponent Batgirl had ever faced in a fight. Laying there, rolling from side to side and moaning, Bane lured Batgirl into launching a kick at his head.

Quicker than any cat, Bane caught Batgirl's ankle in his huge right hand. Before Batgirl could react, Bane sprung to his feet. Unbelievably, he was able to almost instantly attain a standing position while still holding on to Batgirl's ankle!

By allowing Bane to grab her, Batgirl had made what may have been a fatal mistake. She looked like a marlin strung up by deep sea sport fisherman at dockside. Bane tightened his grip.

Now Bane reached down with this left hand and grasped Batgirl's left shoulder. Next he shifted his grip to extend across her left collarbone and across her sternum. He dropped his right hand down to cover both of Batgirl's thighs. Even her magnificently muscled upper legs were completely enveloped by Bane's paw.

"My mistake last time was trying to crush you in a bear hug," Bane grunted. "This time, I will subject you to the slowest, most excruciating back-breaker any human has ever endured!

"READY?" he bellowed.

Bane stuck out his right knee. He laid Batgirl across his right thigh and then, ever so slowly, began to bend Batgirl's back over it.

Batgirl couldn't believe the precision with which Bane was able to increase the pressure on her spine. Every second, she could feel it increase, just a tiny bit. The torment was relentless, the effect debilitating.

With her arms Batgirl could do very little. Blows on his legs and feet that would have felled an ordinary man were completely ignored by Bane. Even shots to his groin had zero effect. He either was wearing some sort of protection or had mastered the sumo technique of protecting the testicles.

Although Batgirl's lower legs were free, she was being held in such a way that Bane's face was out of reach. All she could do was thump against his massive chest. That did about as much good as trying to break down a brick wall with one's head.

"AaaaaAAAAAAAAAA!" Batgirl let out a scream. Her body had never been subjected to such fast torture. Any second her back would be broken, leaving her either dead or paralyzed.

"This is the end for you, Batgirl!" Bane crowed, "and the beginning of the end of Batman!"

Back to the Batgirl Bat-Trap Homepage!