A Matter Of Life And Death: Batman And Michael Myers (1) Archie Goodwin International Airport, Gotham City, USA--3:14 AM, October 31st, 2000 (4 hours and 15 minutes ago)--The dark form hiding in the rafters was practically invisible to those below him. He was aware of everything that was going on below him for a range as far as he could see. He saw a little girl who was probably about seven or eight years old laying on her mother’s lap, both asleep; He saw a homeless man dressed in filthy clothing, unshaven and drinking from a flask concealed in a brown paper bag; He saw what appeared to be a maintenance man standing motionless by one of the airport’s several utility closets wearing a ridiculous looking mask; He saw a nun sitting off by herself trying to keep her head hung low as if she did not want to be seen. Occasionally she’d look up to see what time it was or if she was being watched. She had changed seats three times in the past hour. There were others as well scattered throughout the lightly populated airport but the Dark Knight had not yet seen the one he was interested in. He had allowed for the possibility that Sir Edmund Dorrance might be in disguise and for a brief time considered that he might be the maintenance man but ruled him out because he was slightly too tall. Nothing escaped the Batman’s notice. His attention to detail was second to none. Ever since he witnessed the heinous murder of his parents when he was a small child, he had committed himself to becoming the most complete, most superb crime fighting machine in the world. He had decided to dedicate the rest of his life to preventing crime in all of its forms. He came down on thieves, prostitutes and drug lords like the Wrath of God but he especially punished the murderers. He took any crime committed in Gotham City personally. However, for all of the rage and frustration he felt, he had vowed never to take a life. Killing a criminal would only make him a criminal. He could never become what he despised so deeply. In order for the Dark Knight to effectively fight crime in Gotham City, he had to be very familiar with its geography. He became as familiar with the landscape of Gotham City as the average person is with his own house. He had studied the layouts of all of the public facilities in Gotham as well as many of the private ones. He knew where every building and every room was, and what was in them. From Crime Alley (where his parents were killed), Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Prison to Police Headquarters and even Commissioner Gordon’s house, he had visited them all hundreds of times. Batman’s combat skills were second to none in the world and equaled only by Lady Shiva. Upon inheriting his parents’ fortune, Bruce Wayne traveled abroad, learning and mastering a variety of different martial arts. He used no one form exclusively but rather used several simultaneously, taking the best each had to offer. There was hardly a maneuver in any martial art he wasn’t at least familiar with. In addition, his investigative skills were superior to most police detectives and the rest of their precinct combined. He simply didn’t miss anything. This is what had allowed him to discern that Sir Edmund Dorrance (AKA King Snake) had not yet arrived. Like Batman, King Snake was amongst the most skilled martial artists in the world. Unlike Batman, however, he could not see. Sir Edmund had been blinded while learning his final ancient fighting style by his tutor, Koroshi whom he consequently crippled. His blindness was an asset rather than a handicap, as he had honed all of his other senses to an uncanny degree. He used the dark as his weapon. Since then he moved from London to Hong Kong and finally to Gotham City where he commanded a gang of Asian street thugs called the Ghost Dragons. Murder and extortion were the tools he used, hence his nickname King Snake. He made himself a billionaire by selling drugs in Gotham City and buying up priceless real estate in Hong Kong. King Snake had a total disregard for the value of human life that had earned him the title “The Most Dangerous Man in the World.” Dorrance was expected back from London at approximately 3:00 AM Eastern Standard Time. He had known he was a marked man so he therefore chose to take a redeye flight and arrive unnoticed. He had also traveled under the alias David Krygiell, an optometrist from Michigan who was his look-alike. Dorrance had abducted the man, killed him and stole his identity just for situations like this one. An ironic maneuver for a blind man to become an eye doctor... He had fooled the airlines and the police, but not Batman. In fact, it was because of Batman that Dorrance could not use his own private jet to travel back-and-forth to London. Batman had disabled it so that it would not be available to him at the time he needed it. He wanted King Snake where he could see him. It was difficult for Sir Edmund to operate using a commercial flight, but not impossible. Batman believed that he was going to return to the states with a small sample of a new drug which had been introduced last month in some of the large cities across Europe, including London. King Snake would then reproduce the drug in his labs and be the first to introduce it to the streets of Gotham City. It would make him millions of dollars on top of the billions he already had. Not in my city! Batman thought to himself. 3:44 AM (3 hours and 45 minutes ago)--While waiting patiently for King Snake to arrive, an elderly man in his late sixties wearing a beige coat walked up to one of the counters with a cane and began causing a scene. The man was bald and had a goat T and resembled nobody Batman had ever seen before. The man introduced himself as Dr. Sam Loomis from Haddonfield, Illinois. He said that it was imperative that he find a man by the name of Michael Myers who was his patient. Loomis believed that Myers was somewhere in the airport and that he intended to kill his sister Laurie Strode. The more he spoke, the louder his voice became and the more agitated he got. The airline workers informed him that they could not disclose any information to him about passengers and suggested that he speak with the security officers who were already moving to intercept him at the Delta Airlines ticket counter. Meanwhile, Batman noticed that the maintenance worker had vanished from sight and that the nun’s expression had turned to fear. She disappeared into the women’s restroom hoping to avoid being seen. When Loomis saw security moving towards him, he began moving towards them. He had hoped that they were coming over to help him but when they got there he realized otherwise. They viewed him as the threat, not Michael Myers. He was met with questions like, “Have you been drinking?” and “Are you taking any prescription medication?” Frustrated, he turned to walk away and almost slammed right into someone. “What the hell’s going on here?” Police Commissioner Gordon asked. Commissioner Gordon was an older man, probably close to retirement in terms of his age Loomis thought. He showed all of the stages of a lifetime with the force. He had a head full of gray and white hair, worry lines all over his face (what civilians might call wrinkles), and luggage under his eyes. He wore glasses but what really attracted attention was the big bushy mustache which dominated the center of his face. He had a look of grave concern on his face as he studied Doctor Loomis before him. Gordon had three other police officers in his company, none in uniform. The trio consisted of an obese white male, a very well-built African-American male, and a female with a dark complexion, possibly Hispanic. Loomis had assumed they were all detectives on some kind of stakeout. Maybe they’re looking for Michael! he thought for an instant. No, they’d need a SWAT team to stop Michael... Loomis’ state-of-mind had gone from anxious to hysterical as he spoke to Gordon and his officers. “I tell you Michael Myers is here, in this town! He’s here to kill Laurie Strode AND whoever gets in his way!” Gordon’s attempt to calm Loomis down was futile. Either he’s telling the truth, or he’s a madman Gordon thought... OR, he’s working for Dorrance and this is some kind of attempt at a diversion. The icing on the cake for Gordon was Loomis’ mention of ancient druid priests and the Celtic Lord of the Dead, Samhain. “He killed his sister 37 years ago and he’s been trying to kill his other sister ever since! He absolutely will not stop until he’s killed his entire family! I’m telling you, it’s his sacrifice to Samhain! YOU’VE GOT TO BELIEVE ME!” Loomis yelled. While there was no psychiatrist on the planet with more dedication to his craft than Loomis, his fatal flaw was that he was sometimes too honest. Clearly he believed everything he was saying but it was apparent that Gordon and his men were skeptical. It wasn’t that they couldn’t accept that a man would want to murder his family. They had seen proof of that more times than they cared to remember during their time on the force in Gotham City. It was the part about Samhain and the blood sacrifices to appease ancient gods of the underworld that had tested their faith in what he was saying. “Give Detective Montoya his physical description and we’ll keep an eye open for him,” was all Gordon could muster to patronize the old man as pointed a finger towards the female officer. He walked away in disgust and thought to himself, I don’t have time for this bullshit tonight. Meanwhile, the nun had emerged from the restroom and had approached the same counter Loomis had just left. She was doing the best she could to stay settled though she was visibly shaken. “...Keri Tate,” she said, “I was suppose to be nonstop from Chicago to Paris but the plane was forced to land because of the storm. Do you have any idea how much longer it’s going to be? I’ve already been held over for two and a half hours! It’s a matter of life and death that I get to Paris ASAP!” The attendant looked somewhat surprised by the nun’s outburst. Nevertheless, her hands were tied. There was no way her plane could depart in a thunderstorm. It would be suicide. Like it or not, she was stuck there. “I’m sorry maam,” she said, “There’s just no way. Not until the storm breaks...” Batman was still high above listening in on the conversations. He hadn’t missed a single word. Wheels began to turn inside the Dark Knight’s head. 4:01 AM (3 hours and 28 minutes ago)-- The first real fruit of Batman’s efforts arrived in the form of an Asian woman dressed in a leather Ghost Dragons jacket with a patch over her left eye. He recognized her instantly. It was Lynx, leader of the Ghost Dragons and right hand to King Snake. How bold, Batman thought to himself, Right out in plain sight. Not in my city. Batman watched as she moved quickly and deliberately across the section of the terminal he had been overlooking. He followed her trajectory with his eyes to see where she was heading and saw what he had been waiting for all night. Coming from the opposite direction, moving to intercept, was Batman’s prize. King Snake stood about 6’2” and weighed about 220 lbs. He had long blond hair which had been pulled back into a pony tail and was wearing a pair of sunglasses to conceal his milky white blind eyes. He walked as though he could see everything around him. When the two got to within ten feet of each other, Lynx accidentally bumped into the maintenance man who had suddenly reappeared and was walking right in her path. Upon impact, the maintenance man reached up and grabbed Lynx by the head, putting one hand under her jaw and the other on the back of her head. He then twisted with such a powerful force that Lynx’s neck snapped instantly and completely. He had broken the woman’s neck so badly that only a flap of skin on the back of her neck held her head onto her dead body. The attack was so quick and unexpected that she did not have time to scream. King Snake heard a thud as Lynx’s body hit the floor and he began to stare in the direction of the maintenance man with a look of savage rage. Even though he could not see what happened, he knew. He recognized the sound of a neck being broken for he had broken several in his lifetime. He recognized the smell of blood for he had spilled his share of it. Lynx had meant everything to him. She was the most important thing in his life that wasn’t money. For a man as ruthless as Sir Edmund, Lynx was as close as he could ever come to true companionship. She was his confident, his lover, and most of all, his eyes. He would be lost without her. The rage he felt from her death was so overwhelming he began to shake. This man, whoever he was, could not be allowed to live. Sir Edmund kicked off his shoes then removed his glasses, jacket and his button-down shirt and threw them to the floor. Tattooed across his chest was a giant King Cobra Snake coiled up, ready to strike. He had on a pair of loose-fitting white pants which matched his colorless eyes. As he got into his martial arts stance, he said, “You just committed suicide stranger.” The Shape before him just stood there motionless. Dorrance could not see his cold black eyes starring back at him. Meanwhile, a shockwave of panic spread throughout the airport. People were scrambling to get to the exits. Gordon and his men were moving towards the source of the disturbance and Loomis had drawn his revolver. When he got close enough to see clearly, he instantly recognized the murderer. “Michael,” he said softly to himself, “I knew you’d come.” He raised his gun to shoot but had it knocked out of his hand by some unknown object flying through the air. All he could hear was the sound of metal on metal and then his firearm was gone. Batman had thrown the Batarang just in time. If he had waited a second longer, the crazy doctor might have killed that man and he would have lost his chance to interrogate this cold-blooded killer. I want this one alive, the Dark Knight thought to himself. King Snake surprised Michael with the speed with which he attacked. He connected with a snap kick that caught the Shape square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. He laid there motionless where he had fallen for a few seconds before rising to his feet. He then began to walk slowly towards Dorrance as if killing him would be inevitable. When he got to within arm’s reach, Sir Edmund stepped aside and nailed him in the back of the head with a two-fisted punch then brought his knee up into Michael’s stomach. With the Shape disoriented, King Snake swept his feet out from under him, causing him to slam back down to the floor hard. King Snake was not done. He moved in for the kill. But before he finished this man off, he need to know who he was. He knelt down by the Shape and listened. Michael was not breathing. “No, don’t you die on me, not yet. I’m not finished with you.” Sir Edmund said. He reached down, feeling for his face and discovered the mask. Just as he had suspected. He knew his blows were not making direct contact with skin. There was something else separating him from his foe. When King Snake reached down to unmask the Shape, the Shape grabbed his hand with an iron grip and began to squeeze. King Snake could hear the bones in his wrist shatter and the pain was absolutely unbearable. Sir Edmund tried to free himself but could not. It was futile. This man was stronger than any man he’d ever faced by far. And he was sure that this man would be the one to end his life. In a panic, King Snake began to hammer away at the Shape’s head, hoping to free himself but his resistance only made the grip tighten. It was only a matter of time before his wrist would meet the same fate as Lynx’s neck. The Shape rose to his feet looking ominous. For all King Snake knew, he may as well have been the Grim Reaper coming to take him to the afterlife. Only a moment before he was about to lose his pride and beg for his life, Sir Edmund’s savior arrived. He was just about to offer his attacker a share of his billions in exchange for his life when his rescuer came down out of nowhere. Batman descended from the rafters with both heels planted firmly together. He positioned them so that the point of impact was the Shape’s upper back, between his shoulders. For the third time, the Shape fell to the ground. Batman reached for his utility belt, withdrew a small pill-sized object and threw it to the floor with all his strength. Gas began clouding the area and Batman shouted, “Get out of here Dorrance, he’ll kill you!” Sir Edmund took his advice and fled. He planned on making this masked man pay for what he did to Lynx but that would have to wait. He was too badly wounded to fight now. Batman felt a hand reaching for him but its owner was having trouble locating him in the gas. He could hear Gordon yelling for Michael to get down on his knees with his hands behind his head and the old man screaming “Michael!” from somewhere nearby. There’s way too much happening right now, Batman thought, way too many players here. Feeling the Shape getting closer with every thrust, Batman decided he needed to regroup before he could deal with Myers. He pulled an object which resembled a gun from his utility belt and aimed it at the ceiling. Instead of bullets, it shot a grappling hook and line towards the rafters. His shot was perfect. The hook hugged the metal beams of the rafters and Batman ascended towards the ceiling. He felt a hand just miss his boot. The cloud disappeared and the Shape was once again visible to all. He surveyed the area. Four cops had their guns pointed straight at him. He saw Loomis whom he recognized from his days at the Smith’s Grove Warren County Sanitarium. From across the terminal he spotted the same nun he had seen earlier, only this time she dared to look up for a brief instant and he caught a glimpse of her face. For a fraction of a second, their eyes locked and rage boiled within Michael. The masquerade was over. He had found her once again. He moved towards his prey but the obese policeman stepped in his way with his gun pointed right at him. “Get your hands behind your head and get down on the ground NOW!” Bullock hollered. Michael did not break stride. He continued to walk as though Bullock wasn’t even there. The portly policeman fired six times into his chest but the Shape kept coming. All four cops could not believe their eyes. This guy just took six slugs without even feeling it! Gordon thought to himself. Maybe now they’ll believe, Loomis thought. Michael whipped around, moving with blinding speed, and his arm lashed out at Bullock, fingers hooked like claws. The hand plunged into the chest of Harvey Bullock with such incredible force that it went all the way through his entire body, ripping through flesh as if it were only tissue paper, smashing bone, emerging from the back clutching its prize, the still beating heart of Harvey Bullock. Michael yanked his arm back and the body that had once been Harvey Bullock fell back, collapsing like a deflated balloon. Gordon, Montoya, Bock and Batman looked on in horror. In all of the years each of them had been fighting crime, none of them had ever seen anything so sadistic, so evil. Gordon’s heart went up into his throat. He had just lost one of the finest police officers he’d ever had working under his command. Harvey may have been a unhealthy slob, but he was a world-class cop. Montoya vomited and Batman vanished from sight. Not in my city. Batman reappeared suddenly behind the nun who screamed when he grabbed her shoulder. “We’ve got to get you out of here Laurie,” he said. Laurie was so badly shaken up from what was happening that she couldn’t think straight. She did not know who this man was who wanted to help her but she had no choice but to accept his help. The Shape advanced towards the two quickly. Batman motioned for her to seek shelter in the bathrooms while he tried to hold him off. Michael reached for Batman but just missed. Batman knew that he could not afford to be grabbed or he’d probably be killed too. Fortunately for him, his reflexes were as good as anybody’s in the world. At the same time he dodged the Shape’s attacks, he had to prevent him from getting to Laurie. This became impossible. Michael had seen her enter the restroom so he knew where she was. When he started to go towards the door, Batman threw himself between the door and Michael. Michael was finally able to grab hold. His grip was far stronger than any villain’s he had ever faced, including Bane, the man who broke his back. Bane had the body of a professional wrestler and had taken a form of super steroid called Venom that had allowed him to overpower Batman and pound him into submission. Batman did not think Michael’s strength came from steroids. His strength went beyond that. It’s impossible for anyone to be this strong, he thought. Michael’s grip on Batman’s neck was tightening. He was about to pass out from oxygen deprivation when suddenly, Michael’s whole body crumpled and fell to the floor. Standing behind Michael was a woman Batman knew very well. Lady Shiva was built similar to Lynx but her abilities in the martial arts were far superior. Her skills were second to none. She was every bit Batman’s equal, if not his superior. There was no technique, from any discipline Batman had ever heard of, that she had not perfected, and many he found completely baffling. Lady Shiva had dedicated her entire life to her craft. She spent every hour of every day that she was awake making herself a better fighter. She had learned from every prominent master and had mastered every known martial art form in the world. She traveled the globe searching for a worthy opponent but never found one until she met Batman. In their first meeting, she defeated him soundly. He was younger then and still learning. In their second meeting, he defeated her barely. She had always longed for that third and deciding fight. When she had learned that both Batman and King Snake (two of the five best martial artists in the world) were going to be in the same location at the same time, she could not pass up the opportunity. She knew they’d probably fight and she wanted to be there to oppose the winner. She lived for the chance to test her skills in combat. “I call that Tamashiwara,” she said arrogantly, “He won’t be getting up this time.” Shiva was obviously trying to impress Batman with her fancy terminology. He knew what Tamashiwara was and what kind of damage it could do. It was a lethal attack which he would never allow himself to use. He was, however, familiar with the technique and how to defend against it. There were less than five people in the world who knew it. In fact, Shiva had killed the man who taught it to her just so that he could not teach anyone else. She valued being a member of such an elite group. Still groggy, Batman said, “Not to burst your bubble but he’s not dead. And I’d suggest you leave before he gets up.” Shiva was insulted. He was implying that she could not handle herself against this man.
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Copyright © 2000 Mark Brittan |