Part One – Bank Heist
Seeker City, Australia
It was a cool night in the city of Seeker. Purple-grey clouds drifted across the dark cobalt sky with the occasional bright lights of planes and helicopters piercing the darkness. Down below in the sprawling city, bright headlights, neon signs and skyscrapers created an illuminating, beautiful light show.
Up on the highest point of the city, on a very high building known as Seeker Tower, a long figure stood on the rim of the lookout centre. It was very dark and the black clothes she wore easily blended in with the gloomy night. The girl, as she appeared to be, wore heavy boots with small spikes on the soles, long padded jeans with knee guards beneath them; a lightweight bullet proof vest with a dark shirt over the top which featured a strange symbol across her chest; elbow pads and thick gloves with ridges. She had a utility belt wrapped around her waist with several strange and curious looking gadgets inside it. She had the body of a well-trained athlete, perhaps a runner, rather on the lean side, but muscular in some areas, like in her legs. She was very flexible and a natural acrobat.
Finally, out from beneath her ponytail of deep brown hair, the most weird and inquisitive thing about her was a large pair of black bat wings. They were folded in slightly at the moment and when they lifted up, revealed a short, flat tail covered with coarse shady grey fur. The wings were emerging from two separate holes in her armour. Her ears, poking slightly out from beneath her hair, were slightly longer then normal and tinged grey, with a lighter grey on the inside. Her eyes were golden-yellow and darting about the city enthusiastically as she gazed down on it from her perch.
The teen yawned, revealing several of her teeth to be fangs rather than human. Across her eyes, she wore a black mask with pointed ends curling up towards her eyes and two points curling down, becoming a bat-like shape. Her wings, they were full and healthy at night, but when the sun rose, they shrivelled up into grey, twisted, ripped appendages barely the size of her foot. As for her ears, they too became normal when they hit sunlight.
Now this young, mutated teenage girl wasn't human, obviously not fully at least. She wasn't sure what she was, who she was, where she came from or even her name. Hell, she couldn't even remember her birthday! But what she did call herself was a most fitting name, a perfect name for her.
She called herself… The Batmaster. No parents, no school, no rules… No life. None, except for one where she played night time vigilante. Yes, vigilante. What else was a half-human, half-bat hybrid to do at night? The risks are high, capture could mean being arrested, thrown in a mental hospital, a zoo or worse, even being killed. But the thrill of the adventure was well worth it, as well as the adrenaline that filled her veins when she soared through the night skies. Why she hadn't been caught yet to be studied by scientists? She didn't know the answer to that.
Batmaster teetered on the edge of the building, rocking back and forwards on the balls of her feet. She took a deep sigh and knelt down, watching the street below. She pulled a set of headphones from a small square compartment in her belt and wedged them in her ears before connecting them to a rectangular radio with two dials on either side of a green screen showing the various radio waves of the city. She twiddled the dials, searching for something other then some idiot shock jock's voice or music that sounded like it came from the late 70s.
Suddenly, after a quick burst of ear-splitting static, she hit the police radio line. "Breaker breaker, we have a hostile situation at King Road Bank, suspects are armed and dangerous. Repeat, they are armed and dangerous."
A disgusted scowl crossed her face before she pulled out her headphones and replaced them in their packet. At the beginning of 2015, city mobsters and gangs were becoming more hostile, more violent and more powerful. New technology became available and new weapons were made. Police were more numerous but they were usually outnumbered in big cities. Seeker was one of the worst ones. The city had two sides, a north and south, separated by the wide river known as the Hunter, which linked directly to the coast where Seeker City laid.
North Seeker was a large, bustling city with tall skyscrapers, busy shops, several large mansions and well-kept streets. It was the higher-class area, otherwise known as the 'rich' part of the city. However across the wideHunterRiver was a slightly more lower-class area known as South Seeker. With fewer large towers, it featured warehouses, the docks, normal-to-sub-standard housing and dead businesses, with many people only living there because they were too poor to go anywhere else. This was the slums part of town and filled with crime, but saying that, both areas were crime ridden, with police powerless to stop them.
Batmaster took a few steps back from the edge, mentally preparing herself for what she was going to do, sighing deeply. She then bolted to the edge, jumped and plummeted down. She grinned, loving the feeling of the cold wind hitting like a thousand piercing needles, the adrenaline rush pumping through her veins and best off all, the ultimate triumph she felt when she unfurled her wings, meters from the ground.
Her wings unfolded themselves and she flapped them once, the force keeping her afloat. They were big, three metres long per side and around two from the top to the very bottom, enough to wrap around her almost three times. They were broad, but also very slim in shape, the perfect mix of manoeuvrability and speed. She could dive from the skies fast enough to pounce on a gangster's truck before they could even see her and whirl between cars on a freeway without being hit! They were very strong, though how thin they appeared, and were able to withstand most physical hits and even some weapons. Bullets, however, could go straight through and damage them at close range, but usually they could be deflected with relative ease.
Batmaster rose high above the ground, moving between the buildings, gaining more speed with every beat of her wings. Air spurting from various vents and air-conditioning ducts gave her an extra boost when she flew into their path. She dived through alleyways, she soared above the rooftops, and she glided between streets, before she saw the tall granite building of King's Road Bank rise up before her. She circled it, watching the red and blue flashing lights from a few streets up grow closer, before she landed on the tiled roof and pulled up a metal hatch and crawled inside.
Meanwhile, in the bank…
Two men, one built like a weightlifter; heavy, broad-shouldered and muscular, the other more lean and skinny but still very strong-looking, both being covered with various tattoos, carried two mysterious bags from the dark hallways of the bank. They both wore long jeans and simple white t-shirts, not at all unusual. They entered another gloomy room where reached a man in a white suit waiting behind a desk, who was tapping his fingers in an annoying rhythm. Various other bags covered the desk as well as papers with numbers and numbers scrawled all over them.
The leaner one with a short blonde mohawk and a purple dragon tattoo circling down his left arm spoke first. "Sir, this of the last of them. The vault has been cleared out."
The man in the suit had his back to them, but his voice rang out as clear as day and it was one of authority. "Good, tell the boys to bring the truck around."
The blonde nodded and pulled out a mobile phone and tapped a message within seconds and sent it. Soon, around half a dozen men wearing dark clothes and balaclavas entered the room. All had a dark green bandana tied around them at various points, some had it around an arm, others around their neck and they all had a griffon head tattooed on their arm, visible when the men pushed up their jackets sleeves. They were also all armed, holding knives in a holster on their belt.
The man in the suit and looked at the mohawk guy. "I'll leave you to it, Reynolds. Don't disappoint me…" He beckoned to the other man. "Ozzy, come."
The big guy gave a two finger salute before pulling a pistol from a holster located on his belt. "Yes sir," he grunted, before slipping a clip into it. He moved into the dark hallway, pointing his gun about with one eye squinted closed as he aimed. After being satisfied that it was clear, he beckoned to suit guy and both hurried out.
This particular bank had an interesting defence system. Though appearing small to the public, the back was filled with twisting and turning hallways, leading to various offices, meeting rooms and the central vault through a secret doorway, accessible through a hatch behind a bookcase in the Bank Manager's office. Unfortunately, the gang of thieves and bandits had located it and broken into it. The keypad, which resembled a simple calculator sitting on the desk, had been hacked into before being smashed and ripped off.
Reynolds turned to the group of men standing before him and his gaze immediately become hard. "Alright, boys, let's load this truck up and get the hell out of here," he ordered in a firm voice. "Before the cops come and bust us."
The men nodded and began to pick up several stacks of money and walk their way back through the winding, twisting hallways. Two of them drew their knives and went to each end of the line; keeping watch with them jerking about every time they heard a noise.
They reached a fire exit and kicked it open, before jumping down a small set of stone stairs. Reynolds glanced around, annoyed. "Truck's late!" he snarled. "The boss won't like it if we get busted!"
Suddenly, a small truck rolled back from a dark alleyway to the right of them, stopping just in front of them. Reynolds shook his head and went and pounded on the side. "Late again, Shane!" he said as he moved to the rolled down window of the driver's seat. "The boss is going to have your head, you–" Reynolds stopped short as he gazed into the cab where Shane, the driver, was slumped over his seat, a large lump forming on his head.
Police sirens filled the air. "Shit," Reynolds swore when he saw the red and blue lights in the distance. "In the truck, now!" he barked, sending the bandits scurrying about. They pulled down the back hatch of the truck, only to be confronted by thick smoke. Coughing, they pulled their balaclavas off to try and breathe through it before leaping inside with their cargo. After the last one to come aboard jumped in, he pulled with all his might to bring the back hatch up with a loud clang. The truck engine roared to life, just as the police skidded to a stop outside the front, lights blazing and alarms blaring, only to be confronted with an empty vault and bank.
Back at the truck, Reynolds tried to accelerate but his truck simply idled. "Come on!" he yelled, banking his fist on the dash in frustration. "Go!"
The radio behind him suddenly blared, as a man's voice shouted through it. "Help!" it screamed, before it cut out. In the back, long clangs and bangs rocked the garbage truck as something small exploded with a whistle and then a small BOOM.
Reynolds pushed open his door and leapt down, sprinting to the back cab before skidding to a stop. He pulled at the hatch with difficulty before it came right off the hinges. He fell back, with it landing on top of him, and cried out in pain. From the ground, he could see his men with their clothes burned, slumped unconscious against the walls. The money bags were burning too and then with a small 'phomph', the die packets exploded, marking the bills.
The man gave a cry of pain, frustration and anger before he shoved the broken metal off his chest. He started to run towards the truck but as he clambered onto the back, something large and black grabbed him by the collar with a gloved hand, lifting him to the top. He stared at it, shocked by what he saw, before stuttering, "What are you?" but the blackness covered him like a shroud of mist before he was dropped like a rag doll to the ground.
Police barged through the back door, guns drawn, yelling things like, "No body move!" or "Police, freeze!" but when they saw the truck, they stopped. They saw the smoking engine, the dye-soaked bills stacked neatly by the front right tire, the thugs all tied to the rear axel by several heavy brown ropes, their weapons by the bill, out of reach and a note attached to the broken hatch.
The sergeant motioned to his officers to arrest the bandits, before he holstered his gun and moved to the note to read the untidy scrawl upon it. He ignored the scuffles and curses coming from behind him as the bad guys were pulled ton their feet and handcuffed.
These thugs disabled the security cameras and knocked out the guards. I pulled the silent alarm to alert you to the scene before I disarmed them. They shouldn't cause anymore trouble.
His eyes widened before narrowing in confusion. Who would do such a thing? No one in this city was brave enough – or stupid enough, to encounter several gangsters without proper training or experience. It was suicidal! But still, he must thank them, if he knew who they were.
Something zipped through the air beside him and rolled to a stop beside his foot. He bent down to pick up the dart, with another note rolled around it. He unfurled it and read it.
I am the Batmaster.
"Up there!" one of the officers yelled, pointing up at a high building very near the bank. They saw a young girl, hair blowing in the wind as she stared down at the scene, a dart shooter held to her lips before she lowered it and replaced it in her belt. She unfurled her large bat wings from her body before giving a small nod to them and then she turned and ran, leaping off the edge behind her and soared away, riding the winds as though she was a ghost, a demon who was lighter then a feather, leaving the police officers stunned as they realised, they were not the only ones protecting the city. In fact, it appeared, they had a very capable helper.
It seems that The Mighty Batmaster had risen.
Batmaster and all characters unless specified belong to MasterHayley