Batgirl: Sex Bomb Ch. 02

They all solemnly nodded their agreement.

"Where did he say he got the gun from?" Batgirl asked, her green eyes now alight with barely suppressed excitement.

"So far, Angelotti has refused to reveal the source," replied the Dark Knight, with an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Yeah, he claims to have won it in a poker game, the week before," added the Boy Wonder, angrily punching one gloved fist into the palm of the other. "He told us that the guy who threw it into the pot, was a stranger from out of town! If they had left me alone with that low-life punk, for just five minutes, I would've wrung the truth out of his scrawny neck!"

"Calm yourself, Boy Wonder! Even criminals have their rights under the United States constitution," replied Batman, firmly. Robin was an excellent crime-fighting partner, but he was prone to be a little headstrong, on occasion.

"Sorry, Bruce!" replied the Boy Wonder, calming down and looking suitably sheepish.

"So, some of the stolen weapons have started to appear on the streets?" mused Batgirl, striking a pose, with hands on her hips and feet planted firmly apart, unaware of the devastating effect this had on most men, including these two.

"That is correct, Girl Wonder!" confirmed the masked vigilante, a little hoarsely, trying not to stare at the incredible breasts being thrust out in his direction. Her prominent nipples seemed about to explode out of her tightly stretched purple costume. The clearly visible, snug-fitting black thong barely covered her sex.

-oOo-

Phil had been true to his word. He'd had a quiet word with Captain Schmitt, his immediate superior in the uniformed branch, requesting permission to look into the case, and the senor officer had reluctantly given him permission to review all the relevant data, including unrestricted access to the relevant databases on the central police computer, on the strict understanding that Phil kept him fully informed of any progress he might make.

"What you hope to discover, that isn't already in the official file, is beyond me?" Captain Schmitt had added, with a resigned shrug, as Phil had turned to leave his office.

Subsequently, Phil had been asking around, in as casual a manner as possible, trying to ascertain all the GCPD employees who'd worked in the armory just prior to the robbery, or who'd had access to the high security information about the underground area where the force's armament reserves were located. The sophisticated alarm systems had been disabled, during the break-in and the unsuspecting officers on duty, had been overpowered, then tied up and gagged. Luckily, no one had been seriously injured during the armed heist.

Thursday, 10:00 am

The automobile made its way along the meandering drive, through the dense wooded area that surrounded the grim looking cluster of buildings that was known as New Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The prison and correctional institute, was situated just to the north of Gotham City, USA. The main building was a Victorian style structure that had first been converted into a house for the criminally insane by the late Dr. Amadeus Arkham in 1921. The institution had subsequently passed into the hands of the City Authority, after his death in 1963. Since then, various modern additions had been built on to the original structure, and it was now used to house some of Gotham's most mentally disturbed criminal elements.

The unmarked vehicle moved clear of the woods and cruised up to the front of the main house. Well-groomed lawns with numerous powerful floodlights at the perimeter stretched out to either side of the driveway.

A uniformed and armed guard, stepped up to the vehicle, as it crunched to a halt on the gravel drive outside the main entrance, and he helped the lone occupant out of the driver's seat.

"Thank you," the man said, gruffly, straightening his uniform jacket, as he rose to his full height.

The visitor had been expected, and the security man was there to escort him to the cell of Prisoner 143, in the High Security Wing of the establishment. Normally, the caretaker and nominal director of the institute, Jeremiah Arkham, would have been there to greet any important visitors, but he was currently away in Europe, on a fact-finding mission.

"Please follow me, sir!" the guard announced, once the formalities were over and the senor member of the GCPD had established his credentials. This was entirely unnecessary, since the policeman had been a frequent visitor to Arkham, over the past few months, and was well known to the staff.

After signing the visitor's book, he followed the guard and waited, patiently, as they ascended in the small elevator, then passed through several sets of electronic controlled, barred and sliding security doors, before arriving in the High Security Wing. As they walked along, between the two rows of identical jail cells, the jailer accompanied them, eventually stopping to override the high-tech door lock on the cell containing Prisoner 143 with an electronic key fob.

The motorized, barred steel door slid smoothly aside, on well-oiled runners, and the visitor stepped inside. As the door closed and automatically locked again, behind him, he turned and stared out through the steel bars, at his escort.

"You may both leave us now," he said, quietly. "I will call you, when I'm ready to leave."

They both nodded.

He watched them walk away, then turned back to face the ghastly, pale, grinning features and bright green hair of The Joker, who was hunched forward, perched on the edge of his bunk bed.

He had originally got involved with the Clown Prince of Crime when the gruesome master criminal had accidentally blundered upon a sweet little protection racket that he'd been operating, along with several fellow officers. Initially, the Joker had blackmailed the lawman into working for him, but their mutual criminal activities, had since developed into a very profitable partnership.

"What took you so long?" the Clown Prince of Crime demanded, his belligerent tone belying the permanent hideous grin on his pasty white face, the result of an accidental plunge into a vat of toxic chemical waste.

The policeman shuddered, inwardly. He still couldn't get used to that ghastly visage. "I had to wait for the heat to die down," the senor officer protested, walking over to him. "Commissioner Gordon is convinced that the armed robbers had inside help in breaking into the armory!"

"Any idiot could've figured that one out, but he has no idea who that might be... HAS HE?"

"N-No! I covered my tracks perfectly. I thought we'd finally put the investigation to bed, but one of the junior officers suddenly started sniffing around, yesterday, asking some awkward questions. This guy is highly intelligent, but what's worse, he's a tenacious bastard!"

"WHAT?"

"Don't worry, I've taken steps to ensure he doesn't get in our way!"

The gruesome maniac relaxed somewhat and lent back against the wall of the cell. "Good, good! In that case, continue to sell the guns, we need the revenue. Now, it's time to commence with the second phase of my master plan. This is what I want you to do..."

Thursday, 10:32 am

As he walked into the locker room, to get changed into his uniform, prior to going out on patrol, Officer Phil Thackeray was feeling more than a little frustrated. He had just come from the GCPD armory, where he'd been questioning the officer in charge, Bill Murray, and a couple of the other guys currently working down there, about the recent robbery, but none of them had actually been on duty, on that particular night. The armory not only consisted of the firearms store, but also included the indoor firing range, where Phil regularly spent time sharpening up his already considerable marksman skills, plus a small repair and refurbishment workshop.

So far, he hadn't come up with a single lead that might point him in the direction of the bent cop, who had almost certainly been a key figure in ensuring that the weapon's heist had gone so smoothly. The robbers had been long gone with their massive haul, before any of the other police officers on duty at headquarters that night, even realized there had been a break-in. Phil was also surprised and disappointed by the apparent lack of resources that were being plowed into such a serious investigation, by his superior officers.

Arriving at his battered metal locker, he paused, as he was about to unlock and open the door. Someone had stuck a yellow sticky yellow note on the front just bellow his nameplate. He frowned, peeled it off, and read the words scrawled upon it in penciled block capitols: 'MISSING GUNS -- TRY THE PINK ARMADILLO'.

"What the hell does that mean?" he wondered, scratching his head. Was someone trying to give him an anonymous tip-off about the gun heist? He glanced along the row of lockers, to a fellow officer, who was getting dressed some four or five lockers along. "Hey, Mick," he called. "Ever heard of something called 'The Pink Armadillo'?"

The younger policeman's eyes widened. "Yeah, sure Phil, it's a bar but it ain't your sort of place."

"How d'ya mean?" Phil asked, looking confused.

Mick grinned. "Well, it's one of those Gay bars that are springing up all over the place, these days! You ain't on the turn, are you, ol' buddy?"

Phil blushed, despite himself. "Hell no, but I might have to pop in the place later, to ask a few questions about a case I'm working on," he explained.

"In that case, better hang onto your crown jewels!" Mick advised, with a broad smirk on his youthful face, positioning his uniform cap firmly on his head, before turning to leave.

-oOo-

Has Barbara Gordon fallen for the handsome young policeman, despite having her bottom spanked by him?

Who is the mysterious police officer who is in league with the Joker?

Will Phil discover any clues to the perpetrators of the gun heist at 'The Pink Armadillo' or is it just a trick played on him by his fellow officers?

For the answers to these and any other intriguing questions you might have, tune in for the next chapter of 'Batgirl: Sex Bomb', coming to this website, shortly!