You're Not Batman

The Signature Lounge, an upscale bar lounge with a killer view of the Chicago city skyline was bustling with the sound of shaken cocktails & excited diners dressed to the nines. There was a certain energy about the bar that let you know you wouldn't be leaving here alone. That was exactly the night John Schubert had in mind as he entered the lounge and grabbed a seat at a small booth for two. He checked his watch briefly just as a cocktail server came over to greet him.

"I'll just take a bottle of Champagne to start. Two glasses please, my lady friend will be joining me shortly."

John's eyes darted back to his watch as the server strolled back over to the service area. He was anxious to have a drink with the young woman he bumped into earlier. She has this gorgeous ebony skin, endearing hazel eyes, and full head of Diana Ross-esque hair. The icing on the cake was her super silky vocal inflections caressed by a South African accent. If all went well, he'd be late to the office in the morning & waking up with her by his side. His lips curled into a smirk as thoughts of her ran through his head. His phone began to vibrate gently in his blazer pocket just as the server dropped off the Champagne.

FROM: Fiona

TEXT: Look to your left ;)

The South African bombshell entered the lounge and immediately drew eyes from other diners. Fiona's ebony skin was hugged by a red mini dress and accented by a fitted black leather jacket. Her crocheted afro allowed her curly locks to adorn her head like a crown. A slow saunter towards John across the dining room was enough to make him believe she was a goddess in human form.

"Haven't been waiting long, ja?" Fiona teased as she sat across from John in the booth.

"Not at all! Glad you could make it, Fiona. I thought we could start the night with some bubbles." He smiled warmly at her before waving over the server to pop their bottle open.

"Ooh, Bollinger! Aren't you fancy? I thought you'd be the type to skip formalities." Fiona's hazel eyes playfully lingered on John as he turned a familiar shade one could properly label as "tomato". John nodded to the server after both glasses were poured as indication there was nothing else they needed. He raised his glass to Fiona and she mirrored him.

"Cheers." Their two glasses clinked and they sipped together in true celebratory fashion. John's skin began to return to its original pale hue. "You'd be right in that assumption." John chuckled before drinking some more.

"Hm...look under the table then, you might like what you see." Fiona set her glass down and leaned back in her seat. Her eyes stayed on John who, as she expected, decided to play along with her. He smiled as his head slowly darted under the white table cloth. John was expecting to get a sneak peek at what was under her red dress, but was instead greeted by a shiny silver barrel. John's head shot back up and that familiar red shade flushed his skin again.

"Do yourself a favor and don't make a scene, ja? I am the one with the Glock after all." Fiona's demeanor did a full 180 from the seductress she had been playing. She chugged the rest of her Champagne and proceeded to pour herself another full glass.

Yeah, someone definitely wasn't getting lucky tonight.

Fiona Gwandoya wasn't just some girl that John bumped into by chance. Fiona's client, Elise Tulom, hired her to search for her daughter, Rebecca, who had been an intern at John's firm: Sterling Logistics. For whatever corrupt-conspiracy reason or another, Chicago PD wasn't investigating the firm. Fiona's own, semi-legal detective work into the life of Mrs. Tulom's daughter had led to Fiona uncovering a series of shipments of non-specified goods. John had become the main man of interest since he was also Rebecca's mentor at the firm and the one signing off on these "shipments". She knew John was her guy, but wasn't sure how much he was going to provide her without force. Well, additional force outside the gun she had conveniently pointed at him.

Fiona fished a photograph out of her jacket pocket and slid it over to John. "Rebecca Tulom is a pretty girl, isn't she?" Fiona took another swig of champagne.

"Who the hell a---" John's attempt at rebuttal had been quashed by the sensation of the silver barrel now being pressed against his groin.

"You're asking all the wrong questions, so leave that part to me." Fiona kept the pressure of the barrel on John as she continued. "I know that Rebecca was seeing you outside of the office. I know that you are using your access to Sterling's shipping yard to move unmarked freight containers from Chicago to Europe. And I know that the next shipment moves tonight---48 hours after Rebecca's disappearance. Coincidence?" The P.I. leaned in closer to John, her hazel eyes never letting their gaze leave his. She was prepared for him to lie, but if he was smart, he'd choose his next words carefully.

"Wha--what do you want?" John's voice was beginning to quiver. Fiona's reveal was enough to get the point across that the jig was up.

"I want you to tell me who's paying you to arrange the shipments, and if Rebecca is in one of them." Fiona stared daggers at John who genuinely looked shocked. There was no need to beat around the bush. She knew that John was aiding in some kind of human trafficking operation and either set Rebecca to be taken or his handlers didn't give him an option.

"I swear I didn't know they would take Rebecca...I-I...The head of the Valkyrie gang became interested in her and that's when I knew what I'd been helping them move in and out of the city. But I'm innocent!" John held his head in his palms, tugging the little hair he had left.

Fiona scoffed at the idea that this idiot had no clue what was being moved. Did he think the Valkyrie gang, run by a Siberian madman that had set-up shop here in Chicago, were shipping stuffed animals? Even it had been drugs they were moving; it was still illegal. As pitiful as he looked, Fiona felt no remorse. Her demeanor was now taking on a darker tone. She was over this already.

"You've been played like the worm you are, yes. That didn't stop you from working with them even after Rebecca was taken though, hm?" Fiona chuckled a little as she leaned back in her chair and slid her gun back into her purse. "You've got about 10 minutes before this information is sent over to the authorities. So, you'd better hope they believe in your innocence more than I do." The P.I. stood up from the table while John began to unravel. He looked at her as if to plead for her mercy. He would get none. As much as she wanted to dole out his punishment herself, she would let the authorities take care of it this time. But she would take a parting gift on her way out. Fiona wrapped her fingers around the neck of the champagne bottle and freed it from the ice bucket on the table.

"Cheers." One did not just simply waste a bottle of Bollinger.

Fiona punched in a number on her phone as she exited the restaurant. The streets of the city were bustling tonight from the line at Lou's tiny hot dog stand on the corner of 5th to audiences leaving the Lion Theatre. Part of her wanted to partake in the electricity of the night. Maybe pair a Chicago dog with her champagne and get wild with an actual date tonight. A deep sigh escaped her lips as a voice on the other end of the line answered.

"Bliksem! It's rare that we solve our case and tie this nice of a bow on it for Chicago PD." Najee exclaimed. He was Fiona's younger brother and, ahem, “intern”. As a student of the criminal law program at the University of Chicago, he was required to complete an internship with local law enforcement. He swindled Fiona into letting him be her intern since a certified private investigators' office would count. A decision she habitually regrets.

"First of all, it's my case. Secondly, I only sent over the files that implement John Schubert & Sterling Logistics in this crime." Fiona waved her hand in the air as she spotted a taxi coming down the street.

"Okay...but you are going to the police about the shipment tonight, right?" Najee laughed nervously to himself unsure what Fiona was implying. "I mean, what are you gonna do---go free those girls on your own?" He questioned further.

There was a long pause between the two. All you could hear in the background were passing cars and honking horns. "Fiona, I thought we agreed you weren't going to do this anymore? Mrs. Tulom just paid you to investigate Schubert & locate her daughter; our part is done!" Najee had been completely blindsided when he found out his sister was secretly acting as a vigilante on some of her more criminal cases. He supported it for a little while and it was the very reason he wanted to help her at the office. She was making a difference by being the hero you only read about in comic books. Najee's naturally hopeful demeanor eventually began to waver after having to patch Fiona up from multiple gunshot wounds and knife lacerations on her body. The reality of it all began to set in. Running around as a vigilante was going to get Fiona killed in the long run, and that scared Najee to death.

"I’m not leaving any case up to the Chicago P.D. to handle. You just make sure Tulom's check doesn't bounce, ja?" Fiona immediately hung up on her little brother as she entered the taxi. His concern was sweet, but unnecessary. If anything, he should be scared for the men about to see the wrong end of her fists.

Confident that her actions were justified, Fiona headed to her apartment in the west end for a quick wardrobe change before she paid the Valkyrie gang a visit down at the docks.

---------------At the Shipyard | 11:30PM EST ----------------

The whipping Chicago wind sent a shudder-worthy chill down Fiona's spine as she scoped out the docks from behind a large stack of crates. The vigilante had swapped the red dress for an all-leather biker look, accented by a cloth mask that covered everything from her nose down. That big hair of hers was now wrapped in a tight bun. With a gun strapped to her right hip and a retractable tonfa on her left leg, Fiona was more than prepared for battle.

Three men were posted up by a crimson red freight container. Fiona's eyes searched them for weapons. She was going to take a gamble and assume they were armed with at least handguns. Their coats could easily be concealing a weapon or two. One more man was up inside of the car of a crane mechanism. He seemed to be working the machine to grab onto the freight container and move it onto a nearby ship.

Time was of the essence. Fiona leaned her head up against the crates and took a deep breath. One would think that after doing this a time or two, you would become numb to the jitters. That was unfortunately a huge misconception. Though, Fiona was like any performer out there: once she hit the stage, all those nerves would get lost in the performance. It was show time.

First step was getting the three below to separate from their current huddle. If she could pick off one, the other two would be child’s play. Fiona hoped to find a stray soda can or wooden plank laying around that she could toss and make some noise. Unfortunately, these gangsters were a tidy bunch here on the docks. Plan B it is then. Fiona unhooked the pistol from her waist and raised it into the air. The vigilante once more took a deep inhale. Upon exhale, a bullet was sent flying into the night sky.

“What the hell was that?” One of the gangsters commented as all three reached for their weapons.

“Go check it out, dumbass. I don’t have time for this shit tonight.” The burly of the three remarked. He nodded his head over in the direction the gunshot came from. The other gunman opened his mouth to protest but decided against it as he slowly made his way over to a set of tall crates near Fiona. One couldn’t tell, but Fiona was smiling underneath her scarf mask. Plus, she was thankful they were acting predictably stupid.

The lone gunman footsteps could now be heard more clearly as he closed the distance between him and Fiona. She kept her breathing even and level to avoid alerting him too soon. Her eyes darted to the ground as his shadow grew larger. Her hand then slowly reached down to the top of her boot to unsheathe a small switchblade. Fingers gripped the knife so tightly her knuckles might have turned red if she were lighter skinned. The gunman was now right next to her, his gun pointed at the opposite direction and back facing Fiona. The vigilante quickly locked the man in a head lock and pulled him down to the ground behind the crates.

“Hel---” He attempted to shout for help just as Fiona plunged the knife deep inside his jugular. Blood instantly filled his throat and bubbled from his mouth as he gasped. Fiona pulled the knife out, splattering blood on the crates next to them like abstract art. The man’s glassy eyes locked onto hers as his final gasps of air slowed. “Th-th….fo…x”

You play the hero long enough; someone is bound to give you a codename. How that came to be is a story for another time though.

With the first one down, Fiona made a mad dash towards the other two. She jumped over a short crate and retracted her tonfa. Before you know it, she was on top of the two unsuspecting gangsters. A quick, precise twirl of the weapon caused the hilt to smack against the face of the burlier man. The other fumbled for his weapon. As soon as he raised it to aim, Fiona cracked the baton down on his hand to knock the gun free from his grasp. Her eyes stayed on the now weaponless goon as her right leg darted behind her to strike the other one falling back into pile of boxes. He raised his fists up to initiate a hand-to-hand fight.

He threw wild jabs & swings that Fiona maneuvered around with ease. She allowed a nasty right hook to land on her side, so that she could get in close. A left hook then flew past her face giving her the opening she needed. Fiona elbowed him directly in the nose leaving him disoriented. Her arm then snaked around his neck to hold him in place as she kneed him repeatedly. Once she felt him reeling from the pain in his stomach her grip tightened around his neck. A rough lift snapped his neck instantly. Fiona pushed his now lifeless body over as she heard the other one getting up from behind her.

Fiona threw her baton flying at his head and then dove for the gun laying on the ground. She hit the ground hard as she secured the weapon and rapidly fired three rounds on the behemoth of a man in front of her. He dropped to his knees with a loud thud. The Fox attempted to catch her breath but the temporary reprieve was short-lived when the one in the crane machine above began firing on her.

“Shit!” Fiona’s teeth clenched tightly as she felt a bullet rip right through her left shoulder. She made a mad dash and slide over to the freight container the goon above was originally trying to move.

Pounding could be heard on the sides of the container, echoing into Fiona’s ear. She turned away for a second just to get her bearings. Her mental state was sent into a slight state of shock as realized the magnitude of what she was doing. Any later and these girls would have been on that nearby ship, and on their way to God knows where. Those monsters you read about in fairy tales were nothing compared to the ones she faced. Fiona was at the disadvantage with the other gunman holed up above her in the crane. Either they let it come to a standstill or one of them brought the fight to the other. With her left shoulder wounded, Fiona needed him to make the first move.

She removed her leather jacket to feel the back of her shoulder. A wavering breath of relief poured from her as she felt the exit wound. A clean shot, in and out, was better than having a bullet lodged in her. Fiona groaned as she threw the jacket back on. She checked the clip of the 9mm pistol in her hand and reloaded it. The door of the crane swung open with a loud crash and the goon could be heard climbing down the ladder. Little did he know, he’d just given Fiona the opening she needed. Gun raised, she turned around the corner of the container and fired at his back as he was descending the ladder.

“Fuuuuck!” He let out a cry as he fell to the ground.

Fiona slowly walked over to him, the pounding on the freight container from the girls inside was the only other noise that could be heard over her heavy breathing. As she neared him, she tossed the gun she had grabbed from one of the men earlier.

“Whoever you are…. You’re making an enemy of the Valkyrie gang. Stupid bitch.” The injured gangster muttered to Fiona as she stood over him. This was her favorite part. The part where they spit evil even after they had clearly been beaten.

“Who I am….” Fiona chuckled as she walked away from him to pick-up her tonfa. As she neared him again, she twirled the weapon around. “I’m the justice you can’t run from.” Fiona swung the hilt of the weapon against his head. She repeated the swinging motion again. And again. And again. Until the gangster was an unrecognizable, bloody mess. Fiona shuddered as she felt the rage leave her body almost as quickly as it came.

With the threat quelled, Fiona turned her attention to the freight container just as police sirens could be heard in the distance. She unlatched the large clamps keeping the doors of the container locked and swung them open. About 15 girls came pouring out of the container. Some weeping, others shouting for joy, and others silent, clearly unsure of how to process the trauma they had just endured.

“Rebecca?!” Fiona called into the crowd of girls around her. A small framed girl with jet black hair stepped forward.

“Th-that’s…that’s me.” Rebecca’s eyes were welling with tears at the sound of her name.

“As soon as the police get here: Call your fucking mother, ja?” Fiona groaned again and reached for her shoulder as Rebecca wrapped her arms around her. Unsure of what response to give, Fiona just patted the girl on her back before gently letting her go.

The police sirens were incredibly close now, no doubt on their way to the docks of the shipyard thanks to Najee giving them the tip. Fiona motioned for the girls to stay put before darting into the shadows away from the docks.

---------------Fiona’s Loft | 01:05 AM EST ----------------

Fiona climbed in through the window of her loft using the fire escape of the building. She carefully removed her jacket and tossed it on her desk while heading towards the bathroom. The vigilante sifted through her cabinets for gauze, alcohol, and her stitching kit. She laid everything out on the counter to begin fixing herself up. She heard her front door open abruptly and lock again upon closing.

“Fiona???” Najee called out to his sister.

“In the bathroom. Bring my brandy please.” Fiona responded back, her groaning now at a minimum.

Her brother came around the corner with the bottle of brandy in hand. “Jesus…. Fiona…” Fiona snatched the booze from Najee who was just staring at her.

“Tsk…. You should see the other guys.” She winced slightly as she popped open the brandy and took down a large swig. “Give me a hand with the stitches, klein boetie?” She always switched to their native tongue when trying to ease Najee’s nerves.

“Fiona…..I know you think you’re protected by some kind of divine plot armor, but you will die if you keep this up. Or end up in jail, bliksem! Do I even want to ask if any of the gang members are still alive?” Najee waited for a response from his injured sister, but Fiona simply shrugged at him.

“I’m not doing this with you, Najee.” Fiona finally rebutted as she began the first set of stitches herself.

Her brother crossed his arms in disbelief at her actions right now. “You do realize you aren’t fucking Batman, ja?!”

“Are you asking me or are you telling yourself that? I never told you to look at me like a hero. Because I’m not.” Fiona clenched her teeth hard as she neared completion on the first stitch.

“Then why do it Fiona? Primrose wouldn’t want this…not this.” Najee pointed at the wound and waved his hand at the medical supplies on the counter.

Fiona finally allowed her hazel eyes face him. There was a darkness behind them now. “Don’t.” She warned. Their late sister was not a subject she liked to get into, especially not after the night she just had.

“When you two were attacked by those men…. You fought like hell to escape and get help. And you did. What happened to Prim is not on you.” Najee reached out a hand to his sister.

Fiona aggressively swiped away his hand and pushed him up against the wall of the bathroom. She could feel him trying to wriggle from her clutches but even with a wounded shoulder, Fiona’s body was still a living weapon.

“You will never understand what it feels like to have watched them rape & murder our sister. Meanwhile I could do nothing, until it was too late. Even then in that moment, all I could think about as my own escape from the same fate.” Her lips began to tremble with overwhelming emotion as flashes of that night flooded her memory. That was the first time she had killed anyone. It was self defense back then, but what was it now?

Fiona backed away from her brother as tears gently streamed down her face. So much of who she was now was because of what happened so many years ago. These were emotions she did not want to feel. Not now. Not ever.

“I should’ve died that night too…. my life didn’t matter!” Fiona shouted. “And now it does. Every time I go out there and remind myself who the fuck these people are, and I purge them from someone else’s nightmares.” She pointed in the direction behind her brother, referencing the murderers & tyrants she had put in the ground.

Najee backed out of the bathroom, fearful of both his sister’s fit of rage and her words. “You need to get help Fiona.” His mouth moved as if he wanted to say more but decided against it. Najee’s eyes glossed over with tears and he darted for the front door.

Fiona stared at herself in the mirror and felt like she was seeing herself for the first time.

“You’re right, I’m not fucking Batman.”

------------To Be Continued-------------