Protector Chapter 1

    If you asked Cassandra what the night sky over Blüdhaven looked like, she’d give you a funny stare. She never…looked…at it, honestly. Even though she worked at night. Every night. Instead, she watched the city’s streets. And the…what did Barbara call them?...scum walking it. Tonight was no different.

    She waited on a warehouse roof…watching what was below through a skylight. Five thugs talked…no…argued…over who would get what of some…loot they just got from the bank on Finger Ave. Back in her old city, Cassandra would have beat these guys senseless eighteen minutes and twenty-four seconds ago. But she had to learn…patience…develop the skills the others had…that Tim had…

    She shifted, shook her head. Too many thoughts. They got real annoying after a while.

    “You are ripping me off, man!” one of the thugs shouted. Cassandra winced. His voice kept ringing through her speakers. Mental note…fix microphones.

    The next voice wasn’t much better, “Look, that’s the figure after the Penguin’s cut. He set this up, he gets his part.” Cassandra ripped off her headphones. They finally dropped a name…No more waiting.

    She didn’t even need time to take a breath. She dove through the small window, her boot…heel…shattering the thin glass. At the same time, one hand reached into a pouch on her yellow belt and pulled out a tiny ball. It was squeezed and thrown. By the time the thugs looked up, the tiny ball had burst, and thick gray smoke…clouded…their sight. Still falling, Cassandra grabbed the edges of her cape and pulled it tight. It slowed her fall and, more…importantly…, made a sound like the wings of a giant bird…

    Or a bat.

    She smiled at the nervous shouts below. A smile lost under her mask. Ground coming up. Three. Two. One…Her feet hit the ground, heavy and loud on purpose. Instantly, she tucked her body into a ball and…rolled away. Sure enough, bullets flew at the landing spot, now several…yards…from her. The muzzle flashes she saw through the smoke told Cassandra where the men were…So easy.

    Automatic rifles first. There were two.

    Farthest.

    She grabbed an oddly-shaped shuruken from her belt and threw just below the…flashes. She heard a scream and the flashing stopped. No bottle…opening for that one.

    Closest.

    The gun…hesitated…hearing its buddy’s howls. Cassandra darted forward. Grab the muzzle. Angle up. Left fist in arm’s elbow. Bone breaks. Release gun and hit nose, up and in. Another down.

    Smoke clearing. Move faster.

    The others used semi-automatic pistols. One had a custom. He was the one that…mentioned the Penguin earlier. He would know the most.

    Quick steps brought her to the closest guy. Chop to the base of the back of his skull. Instant takedown. The second had just looked her direction as her foot slammed into the left side of his skull. He landed on all fours, only dropping to the floor after another kick. Tough little…wimp…

    Custom Pistol could see her now, enough of the smoke had cleared. But enough remained to give Cassandra a…surreal…look. Scare him. They talk more when they’re scared. She slowly raised her head, letting the pointed ears of her mask slice through the smoke. She stayed a little crouched, her body screaming threats, and…steadily…advanced. Custom backed away, his voice caught in his throat. He dropped his empty clip, shakily loaded a new one, aimed and…

    Faster than a blink, Cassandra saw where he was aiming, where he would aim after he missed, how quickly he would pull the trigger, where he would move to as he shot. She smiled again and kept advancing.

    “G-get away!” his gun wavered, even when he grabbed it with both hands. “Damn freak…monster…I-I’ll shoot!”

    Cassandra laughed, low and deep. It was something she’d been working on…Sinister…Primal…Evil…The thug’s knees buckled. Guess the laugh worked.

    A burst of…defiance…gave her victim courage, “Screw you!” Cassandra shifted to her right.

    BLAM! The bullet passed through her cape. She moved back to her left and ducked.

    BLAM! Another bullet hole in her cape. BLAM! BLAM! The others completely missed. Cassandra ducked and weaved around five more shots. She was untouchable, a gray shadow with…no defined shape. She stopped directly in front of the pistol, allowing the barrel to rest on her…forehead.

    “Gotcha,” he sneered and pulled the trigger.

    Click

    Custom froze, horror draining the blood from his face. Even through the mask, he could still see the creature’s smirk. Cassandra knocked away the pistol and shoved her target to the ground. His body tensed as he lay in the dust.

    “Don’t bother,” Cassandra growled, her voice…hardly human. “Your brown belts in Aikido and Jeet Kune Do will not help you.”

    “Holy shit…”

    “You…mentioned the Penguin…I would like to hear more.”

    The man tried to scoot away, “I-I don’t know anyth--“ Something sliced through his right leg. He screamed, fire traveling to his knee. The more he struggled, the worse it got. He stared at the black shrapnel sticking through his bone and the concrete beneath. Shaped like a bat.

    Cassandra advanced again, “The weapon has pierced a major muscle. You will bleed to death in less than an hour. Tell me what you know or I will not help you.”

    “B-but--“ his eyes widened, “but--Bats don’t kill nobody…They never--“

    “I won’t kill you,” the girl smiled, remembering words her mentor had once said, “but I don’t have to save you.”

    “I don’t know anything! I don’t know anything! I don’t work for the Penguin! I never even saw the Penguin!”

    “Then why would you use his name?!”

    “I just wanted a bigger cut! I figured I could keep my share plus the 30% extra!”

    Cassandra grabbed his collar, “You should never be so…stupid! Dropping big names brings out big guns…and me…You’ll wish the Penguin HAD reached you first by the time I’m finished!”

    “No!” Custom threw his hands up. “No! No, please! PLEASE!” The last thing he saw was the yellow outline of a bat across the girl’s chest. One punch put him down. Cassandra stood over him, her fists shaking. A week. She’d followed these creeps for a full week. Wasted. Cassandra…Batgirl…dropped the greedy thug. She yanked the Batarang from his leg and absently wiped away the blood. Stupid coward. All he would need is a few…stitches.

    Nothing left to do but call the cops.