sort. The car responded instantly, spinning in place until it faced the closest tank even as its wheels pulled out and revolved.
Sixty-millimeter kinetic-energy penetrator cannons rose from behind the front cabin. To its rear an armor-piercing incendiary Vulcan gun unfolded. Surface-to-air anti-tank missiles were primed to fire a barrage that could simultaneously target and take down up to six hostiles at once. Finally, riot supressor guns flipped into position, ready to fire non-lethal slam rounds at any human attacker.
The Batmobile was now in battle mode and ready to take on all attackers.
* * *
Twin missiles exploded from the Vulcan guns and slammed into the militia tank. Batman pushed Ivy to the ground and shielded her with his body. Seconds later the tank exploded and shrapnel flew in all directions. His uniform kept them from being burned as heated scraps pelted down on them.
Keying further instructions into his gauntlet, he spun the Batmobile again and aimed its next two missiles at another tank. As this second tank exploded, he pulled her to him.
“This would be a good time to leave,” he said.
She smiled seductively and lifted her hands, which were still handcuffed together.
“The master of understatement, as ever,” she said, laughing. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
They ducked into an alleyway and Batman stopped. He checked his gauntlet display again.
“There are four more tanks to deal with, and it appears I’ve only got one more set of missiles. We’re going to have to do this fast.”
He fired his final missiles, and the third tank answered with a loud, explosive roar. His fingers quickly danced across the touchpad and the Batmobile spun again, but this time it lurched ahead, speeding around the exploded debris and pulled to a rolling stop in front of them.
“Ivy, now! Inside.”
The hatch slid open. Batman lifted Ivy and placed her inside. Her seat belt automatically buckled her in, restraining her. For good measure he removed the cuff from his hand and attached it to a steel bar in the car’s inner compartment. Ivy wasn’t going anywhere. She leaned back and with her free hand slid her finger along the Batmobile’s padded walls.
“Wonderful toy you’ve got here,” she said. “What will it turn into next?”
Batman positioned himself behind the wheel, gunned the engine, and the car shot forward, zigzagging to avoid the missiles that arced toward them. Even though she was strapped in, Ivy gripped the seat in front of her for added protection. She squeezed shut her eyes as the Batmobile careened around a corner. Once she felt the car slow down she reluctantly opened them again.
“Who taught you how to drive?”
“Did I forget to tell you to hold on tight?” Batman said. He spun around the next corner and hit the gas, increasing speed, then making another sharp right, and then another, coming in behind Scarecrow’s final three tanks. “This is going to get loud,” he said.
She stuck her index fingers into her ears and leaned back, closing her eyes yet again. The handcuffs forced her to lean to the left at an awkward angle.
“Do your worst.”
* * *
The Batmobile stored nearly nine hundred rounds of promethium-coated bullets which, aimed properly, could do significant damage—even against a tank. And all he needed was to slow these juggernauts down long enough for an escape. Anything more would be gravy.
As the tanks began rotating their turrets the 180 degrees they needed to face him, he targeted their optic sensors, external mantlets, and periscopes, then set his guns for automatic fire. The Batmobile’s absorption baffles prevented Batman and Ivy from being permanently deafened by the roar. Within seconds the tanks were effectively blind.
He slammed his foot on the gas and shot forward. His gauntlet comm vibrated and a moment later the police commissioner’s face appeared on its holo screen.
“I don’t know what you did to shake the hornet’s nest,
Sixty-millimeter kinetic-energy penetrator cannons rose from behind the front cabin. To its rear an armor-piercing incendiary Vulcan gun unfolded. Surface-to-air anti-tank missiles were primed to fire a barrage that could simultaneously target and take down up to six hostiles at once. Finally, riot supressor guns flipped into position, ready to fire non-lethal slam rounds at any human attacker.
The Batmobile was now in battle mode and ready to take on all attackers.
* * *
Twin missiles exploded from the Vulcan guns and slammed into the militia tank. Batman pushed Ivy to the ground and shielded her with his body. Seconds later the tank exploded and shrapnel flew in all directions. His uniform kept them from being burned as heated scraps pelted down on them.
Keying further instructions into his gauntlet, he spun the Batmobile again and aimed its next two missiles at another tank. As this second tank exploded, he pulled her to him.
“This would be a good time to leave,” he said.
She smiled seductively and lifted her hands, which were still handcuffed together.
“The master of understatement, as ever,” she said, laughing. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
They ducked into an alleyway and Batman stopped. He checked his gauntlet display again.
“There are four more tanks to deal with, and it appears I’ve only got one more set of missiles. We’re going to have to do this fast.”
He fired his final missiles, and the third tank answered with a loud, explosive roar. His fingers quickly danced across the touchpad and the Batmobile spun again, but this time it lurched ahead, speeding around the exploded debris and pulled to a rolling stop in front of them.
“Ivy, now! Inside.”
The hatch slid open. Batman lifted Ivy and placed her inside. Her seat belt automatically buckled her in, restraining her. For good measure he removed the cuff from his hand and attached it to a steel bar in the car’s inner compartment. Ivy wasn’t going anywhere. She leaned back and with her free hand slid her finger along the Batmobile’s padded walls.
“Wonderful toy you’ve got here,” she said. “What will it turn into next?”
Batman positioned himself behind the wheel, gunned the engine, and the car shot forward, zigzagging to avoid the missiles that arced toward them. Even though she was strapped in, Ivy gripped the seat in front of her for added protection. She squeezed shut her eyes as the Batmobile careened around a corner. Once she felt the car slow down she reluctantly opened them again.
“Who taught you how to drive?”
“Did I forget to tell you to hold on tight?” Batman said. He spun around the next corner and hit the gas, increasing speed, then making another sharp right, and then another, coming in behind Scarecrow’s final three tanks. “This is going to get loud,” he said.
She stuck her index fingers into her ears and leaned back, closing her eyes yet again. The handcuffs forced her to lean to the left at an awkward angle.
“Do your worst.”
* * *
The Batmobile stored nearly nine hundred rounds of promethium-coated bullets which, aimed properly, could do significant damage—even against a tank. And all he needed was to slow these juggernauts down long enough for an escape. Anything more would be gravy.
As the tanks began rotating their turrets the 180 degrees they needed to face him, he targeted their optic sensors, external mantlets, and periscopes, then set his guns for automatic fire. The Batmobile’s absorption baffles prevented Batman and Ivy from being permanently deafened by the roar. Within seconds the tanks were effectively blind.
He slammed his foot on the gas and shot forward. His gauntlet comm vibrated and a moment later the police commissioner’s face appeared on its holo screen.
“I don’t know what you did to shake the hornet’s nest,
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