KITE MAN BEGINS
Gotham City - 11th November 2017
One of the many skyscrapers in the Gotham City Skyline was not like the others. This one's 27th floor stored the treasures collected by one Kenneth Nelson. A lifetime of adventuring and exploration, of action and drama, joy and despair. Gotham's Museum of Mysticism, a place in which the vibes could be felt through the walls. They were about to have a spectacular day today. The kind people write books and screenplays for TV-movies about. A day that would stick with them for the rest of their lives.
They were about to be robbed.
It wasn't Kingpin's men, nor was it the Penguin, not even Two-Face were going to kick down the door and tell everyone to get down on the ground or he'll blow half their face off - an ironic threat from that guy. No, it was a new player in town today. A scourge upon the populace of Gotham that they had never faced before. They were about to be greeted by Kite Man.
.. Whom was fumbling with his shotgun in the elevator with his mask still not pulled over his face. His heart was racing, feeling like it was about to burst through his chest. his green flight suit had his name tags ripped off and a kevlar vest over his chest. A Neon green Balaclava was on his forehead and a shotgun loaded with rubber bullets in his hands.
OK. Maybe they wouldn't write a Ocean's Eleven-esque masterpiece of a movie about today. It was his first gig, he had been prepping an entire week for this, he had done all of the required recon, he knew that right now was when the guards were just about to get off - but before the new guards came in to take over. Tired and bored guards made for easy opponents in a fire fight. "C'mon Chuck. Trust your training, just like in Iraq." He mumbled to himself as the elevator pinged that he was on the right floor. "Showtime." He pulled down the mask over his face and walked into the room where the classical music was playing - maybe 20 people in the room, all occupied with looking at the items of display. Brown only had one price in sight.
He let off a slug into the air, causing panic before he shouted. "This is a robbery! Now everyone calm down and face down on the ground and nobody will get hurt!" C'mon, this is Gotham. These people are used to clown mooks holding them up. You have to give them a better show than that.
The guard came down the stairs from his office, Chuck took aim with the stock of the shotgun to his shoulder and fired, reloading as the shell hit the ground and the guard stumbled to the ground holding his chest in the spot the rubber bullet had hit him.
"Now, get your valuables ready and I'll walk around and collect them. Wallets, jewelry. Fancy handguns if you got them."
Chuck got out his burlap bag of his pocket and walked around, having people drop their valuables into it, one hand on the bag, another hand on his handgun he had removed from it's strap on his leg. "Hurry up." He told the young couple whom were scrambling to unload their phones, pocket knives, wallets and jewerly. Freaking hipsters. Why do you need eleven piercings.
He thought solemnly. Once he had collected the room, he walked back to the display case.
"Time for the big price." He said, inside the display was his mark.Spoons.
Antique spoons thought to be 4000 years old made out of solid gold. Worth a fortune, for sure. He smashed the glass and the alarms went off. The police would be here in not even five minutes, and there was no way to get out by going down. He put back his pistol in it's strap and readied his shotgun, aiming at the window. Two bullets and the glass crumbled raining down below. He turned around. "G'day and thank you for participating." Chuck said as he fell backwards out of the window. He anchored a strap from his Kevlar vest to his harness on the flight suit while falling and pulled a pin.
Like a parachute, the vest expanded off of his body, folding out into a triangular kite that he held onto by one handle on the left, strap securing him on the right. Flying around the corner of the building he could safely glide to the other side of the street behind the open window while he heard the police sirens pass him by below.
And thus the words escaped his lips for the first time, as he pumped the hand which held the valuables into the air in excitement.
"Kite Man, hell yeah!"