Prisoner of the Penguin! Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  THE CHASE!

  CHAPTER 2

  PRISONER!

  CHAPTER 3

  PUNISHMENT!

  CHAPTER 4

  THE PENGUIN'S PLAN!

  CHAPTER 5

  PRISON BREAK!

  CHAPTER 1

  THE CHASE!

  CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

  The Batmobile’s armored tires rumbled over the broken glass that littered the moonlit street.

  The glass was from the window of The Gotham City Jewelry Exchange. A thief had smashed his way in. Now he was on his way out — along with a bag full of diamonds.

  The thief leapt into a truck as the Batmobile roared up.

  SCREEEEE!

  The truck sped off. Batman shifted the Batmobile into high gear. The chase was on!

  “Stop your vehicle!” Batman shouted through the Batmobile’s loudspeakers.

  The thief’s only response was to pick up speed. His truck raced toward an intersection. A car was trying to cross — and the truck was going to hit it!

  Batman activated the Batmobile’s loudspeakers again. “Pull over!” he yelled.

  The driver of the car yanked on her steering wheel. The truck flew past, missing her by mere inches.

  Batman put his boot down on the gas pedal. As the Batmobile raced forward, the Dark Knight pushed a button.

  CLICK!

  SHHHOOOSH!

  Wind rushed in as the Batmobile’s roof slid open. Batman unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt out through the opening in the roof.

  CLUNK!

  He landed on the Batmobile’s hood! He braced himself with both legs, riding on top of the Batmobile as it zoomed down the street.

  Which meant there was no one inside the Batmobile to steer it. Up ahead was a sharp turn. If the Batmobile kept going straight, it was going to crash.

  Balancing himself on the hood, the Dark Knight quickly reached into his Utility Belt. He took out a device the size and shape of a cell phone — the Batmobile’s remote control.

  Pushing buttons on the remote, Batman steered the Batmobile around the sharp corner and gained ground on the truck.

  “Stop!” Batman shouted to the thief driving the truck. But he didn’t stop.

  Instead, the thief wildly swerved into the Batmobile!

  CRUNCH!

  The side of the truck slammed into the Batmobile’s door. Batman slipped off the hood. But he was prepared for that to happen — he already had his grapnel gun out.

  He fired it.

  CRUNK!

  The grappling hook sank into the back of the truck.

  REEEEEEEEE!

  The grapnel gun’s cord retracted and instantly pulled Batman onto the truck.

  The truck spun in a circle. Batman held on tight as the truck slammed into an empty building.

  HISSSSSS!

  Smoke gushed out of the crumpled engine as the truck stopped moving.

  The Dark Knight grabbed the stunned thief and pulled him out of the truck. “You’re the fourth thief I’ve caught tonight!” growled Batman. “The rest were following orders from the Penguin. Are you?”

  The terrified thief nodded. Even though Batman had caught one of the Penguin’s men, he wasn’t happy.

  Unfortunately, there was no way Batman could catch the Penguin. He’d already been caught two months ago by the Dark Knight. Since then, the Penguin had been in prison. So why were his men still running wild in Gotham City?

  “Somehow, though, he’s still organizing crimes from inside his cell,” Batman said to himself. “And that has to stop.”

  * * *

  An hour later, the Batmobile pulled up in front of the prison that held the Penguin. The massive stone building stood tall on the outer edge of Gotham City. Unlike Arkham Asylum or Blackgate Penitentiary, this prison was a private one owned by a businessman. Batman would not be welcomed here like he would be at those other prisons.

  Batman parked the Batmobile and jumped out. He was met by two of the prison’s guards.

  “That’s far enough,” one of them barked.

  “No one gets through the prison gate unless the Warden says so,” said the other.

  Just then, the massive prison gate rose. As it did, a man walked out from underneath it. Both guards saluted him. “Good evening, Warden,” they said.

  “At ease, men,” said the Warden. Then he turned to face the Dark Knight. “What are you doing here, Batman?”

  “I need access to your prison,” Batman said.

  The Warden thought for a moment. “I think it’s better that you don’t,” he said. “If you were to enter my prison, it could cause a riot. After all, you’re the reason most of the prisoners are in there.”

  “There’s only one prisoner I’m interested in,” said Batman. “The Penguin.”

  “Cobblepot?” replied the Warden. “He’s been a model inmate! I run my prison by a strict set of rules. Strict but fair. If you’re good, you get special privileges. If you break the rules once, you get kitchen duty. Break the rules twice, and you get sent to the hole.”

  The Warden smirked at Batman. “Cobblepot has earned every perk and never had kitchen duty once,” said the Warden. “I only wish all my prisoners were like him.”

  “Very few crooks are like the Penguin,” said Batman. “He’s a criminal genius. Even now, he’s using that genius to plot crimes. From inside your prison, right under your nose.”

  “If that’s the case, then I will deal with it,” the Warden said firmly. “As you say, it is my prison.”

  “Call Commissioner Gordon,” Batman told the Warden. “He’ll tell you I can be trusted.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard all about how Commissioner Gordon trusts you,” said the Warden. “However, he has no authority here. This prison is owned by a private company. We have a contract with Gotham City to house their criminals, but we follow our own rules here.”

  Batman narrowed his eyes. I can tell where this is heading, he thought.

  “One of those rules is that no one is admitted without my permission,” continued the Warden. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to return to my work.”

  Batman didn’t want a fight and had no other options. So he turned and climbed back into the Batmobile and left for the Batcave.

  * * *

  A half hour later, the Batmobile squealed into the Batcave. It was still moving as Batman leapt out. He used his remote control to slow the car to a stop as he hurried to the Batcomputer.

  TAP! TAP! TAP!

  Batman’s fingers danced over the keyboard as he quickly searched for everything he could find about the prison. If the Warden wouldn’t let him inside, he had to find another way to find out what the Penguin was up to.

  The Batcomputer pulled up the prison’s floor plan. Batman studied it on his supercomputer’s giant screen. It was just as he had guessed when he was outside the prison: It was solidly built. The only way in or out was through the heavy-duty front gate.

  And there was no way the Warden would open the gate for Batman. He had made that clear enough.

  Then Batman realized something. “Maybe there is a way I can get the Warden to open the gate for me.”

  The Warden said the prison was owned by a private company, Bruce thought. Well, what if Bruce Wayne bought that company?

  Though few people knew it, Bruce Wayne was Batman. A billionaire, Bruce had more than enough money to buy any company he pleased, including the prison the Penguin was housed in. And once he did, he could order the Warden to let Batman in.
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  To buy the company, though, Batman had to figure out who owned it.

  TAP! TAP! TAP!

  His fingers tapped across his keyboard.

  Batman was able to track down the prison’s subcontractors, which were the companies that supplied the prison’s food and did its laundry. He hoped to track their transactions back to the prison’s owner.

  However, after another hour of searching, Batman still couldn’t find the name of the person who owned the prison.

  “That’s strange,” Batman said. “That information should be in the public records. That means whoever owns the prison doesn’t want people to know who he or she is. It could be a fake corporation, or a group of investors. It could take weeks to determine. And I don’t have that kind of time.”

  Batman rubbed his chin through his cowl. “I can’t buy the prison if I don’t know who to buy it from,” Batman said. “So how can I get the Warden to open the gate and just invite me inside?”

  Suddenly, Batman thought up a potential solution. It was risky. Very risky.

  But it was also the only way Batman could get inside the prison. And he had to do so in order to find out what the Penguin was doing, or his behind-bars crime spree would tear apart Gotham City.

  CHAPTER 2

  PRISONER!

  Two days later, the Batmobile screeched to a stopped in front of Gotham City’s Police Headquarters.

  Commissioner Gordon and a dozen police officers poured down the steps toward the Batmobile.

  “Dropping off more crooks for us to put in jail?” asked Commissioner Gordon.

  “Just one,” Batman announced over the Batmobile’s loudspeakers.

  CRUNK!

  The Batmobile’s door slammed closed.

  SCHROOOOM!

  The Batmobile raced off.

  Bruce was secretly driving the Batmobile with the remote control hidden in his hand. He steered it around the corner, then pushed a button that sent the Batmobile to a pre-programmed location.

  “Stop!” ordered a police officer.

  “What?” Bruce asked.

  The officer saw that Bruce had something in his hand. “What’s that?” the policeman asked. “What are you hiding in your hand?”

  “It’s my phone,” Bruce said, which was true since it also functioned as a cell phone. “Since I’m under arrest, I thought I should call my attorney.”

  Bruce knew, though, that if anyone looked too closely at the device, they would discover its other purpose. Which is why Bruce dropped it and then pretended to trip over it.

  CRUNCH!

  The remote was crushed to pieces under his shoe. “That was clumsy,” said Bruce. “I suppose I’m nervous. I’ve never been arrested.”

  Commissioner Gordon slapped a pair of handcuffs on Bruce. “You have now,” he said.

  “But-but this is Bruce Wayne!” exclaimed one of the police officers. “He’s a millionaire!”

  “Try billionaire,” Commissioner Gordon said. “But I trust Batman. Mr. Wayne, assuming the charges add up, you are going to prison.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Bruce Wayne was standing outside the prison as its gates opened.

  WHIRRRRRR!

  The Warden appeared. “Mr. Wayne,” he said. “I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances. But all the same, welcome. I’d tell you to enjoy your stay, but that probably won’t happen.”

  Bruce gulped, playing the part of the fretful billionaire. Well, I got the Warden to open the gates for me, Bruce thought as he marched inside. Now comes the tricky part.

  As soon as he was inside, Bruce was told to change into his prison uniform. The Warden took Bruce’s $4,000.00 suit and $400.00 tie, as well as his wallet and everything in his pockets.

  Bruce had known he was going to have to hand over anything he brought with him, which is why hadn’t brought his Batman costume, his Utility Belt, or any of his special gear.

  Bruce took a deep breath, then entered the cellblock as a prisoner. Even though he was wearing the prison uniform, he felt exposed. Vulnerable.

  The inmates howled from their cells as Bruce walked past them. Bruce recognized many of their faces. As Batman, he had put them there. The men in the cells were thieves, kidnappers, and worse.

  Although Bruce understood the psychology of the criminal mind, they were still dangerous and unpredictable.

  SWUNK! SWUNK! SWUNK!

  All of their cell doors suddenly swung open! Hundreds of criminals walked out of their cells. Without any of his gear, there was nothing Bruce could do against so many enemies if they attacked him.

  But none of them did. “Yard time!” shouted one of the guards. “Get out there. All of you! Move!”

  Bruce let out a sigh of relief as the prisoners obeyed the guard’s order and marched out to the yard.

  “That includes you, smart guy!” the guard said to Bruce.

  Bruce shrugged and did as he was ordered. He left the cellblock and entered the prison yard.

  Out on the prison yard, Bruce saw the prisoners had arranged themselves in several groups. He noticed a few of the groups as thugs and hired hands for various villains Batman had faced.

  Birds of a feather flock together, he thought. How fitting.

  Bruce did a quick count in his head. Each group was comprised of about 40 prisoners and led by a single guard. To Bruce, the guards looked like sergeants, leading soon-to-be soldiers through basic training. They did pushups, jumping jacks, and drills just like soldiers in the army.

  Bruce’s thoughts were interrupted when a guard shoved him in the back. “Get moving like the others!” he ordered.

  Bruce knew he had to act like a snob. If he didn’t, the guard might start to get suspicious. He had to continue playing the part of billionaire Bruce Wayne.

  “I’m afraid they didn’t teach this sort of thing at my boarding school,” Bruce said. “Maybe you should demonstrate the exercises to me first?”

  “You will not talk back to your commanding officer!” someone said behind Bruce.

  Bruce turned to find himself face to face with the Warden.

  “You’re no longer a member of high society,” the Warden said as he walked up to face Bruce. “Now you’re a member of my society. You’re my prisoner, just like all the rest.”

  The Warden stuck his finger in Bruce’s face. “They obey my orders and do the drills,” he said. “And so will you.”

  Bruce scanned the yard. Not all the prisoners were doing the drills.

  “You’re new here,” the Warden added. “So you haven’t earned anything here yet. You can earn privileges, or you can earn punishments. The choice is completely up to you. Now fall in line and get to work like the rest of the prisoners. Drop and give me twenty!”

  “How about I just stand here and give you a twenty?” said Bruce. “You took my wallet with my clothes, but if you go and get it, you’ll see that it is filled with twenties. Fifties and hundreds, too.”

  The Warden looked surprised and annoyed. “It seems as though you need to be taught a lesson,” he said.

  “Begin combat training!” the warden yelled. Immediately, all over the yard, the inmates began to practice martial arts.

  Why are prisoners learning combat skills in prison? Bruce wondered.

  The Warden waved a prisoner over. “Sir, yes, sir!” the prisoner said, saluting. The man was twice as big as Bruce.

  “I want you to give Mr. Wayne here a martial arts lesson,” the Warden told the huge prisoner.

  WHUMP!

  The warden shoved Bruce toward the thug. “And make sure the lesson is painful,” the Warden added. “Very painful.”

  As Batman, Bruce had studied martial arts for years. He was one of the best in the world. But Bruce couldn’t let anyone know that.

  Bruce had two choice. The first one was to take
the beating. He didn’t much like the idea of some thug wailing on him, though.

  The second option was to continue playing the fool. Most everyone expected Bruce Wayne to be stuck-up, spoiled, and slightly bumbling when it came to physical tasks.

  Bruce didn’t feel like taking a punch, so he decided on the second choice. This is going to be tricky, he thought.

  Bruce had succeeded — the whole thing had looked like an accident!

  Bruce rubbed the back of his head, trying to look embarrassed. “Sorry about that,” Bruce said, a smile on his face. “It was a complete accident.”

  The Warden didn’t smile back. “It’s against the rules for any prisoner to lay a hand on the Warden!” he growled. “Even by accident!”

  Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. It wouldn’t help his cause to point out that he hadn’t actually touched the Warden. People like him didn’t enjoy it when others pointed out their mistakes, and Bruce didn’t want to get in any more trouble than he already had.

  One of the guards rushed over to help the Warden get back to his feet. “What should we do with him?” the guard asked.

  The Warden brushed himself off. “It’s his first offense,” he said. “You know what that means. Put him on kitchen duty.”

  CHAPTER 3

  PUNISHMENT!

  Ten minutes later, the guard shoved Bruce inside the kitchen. “Get to work!” he ordered.

  “Work?” asked Bruce. “My dear boy, I’ve never worked a day in my life. I don’t know the first thing about working in a kitchen.”