Ural Mountains
ThenThe two men lay flat on their stomachs on the snow-covered mountain ridge. They had each come into the mountains with very little supplies three weeks ago when their hunt began. A few weapons and a rucksack with clothing, but no food and no water. They would find their sustenance on the mountain, the same mountain would provide shelter. The only thing they carried now were their hunting knives and the rifle they shared. They opted for knives most times to conserve ammunition. At last count only six rounds were left.
"I see something," the younger man, Bruce Wayne, said under his breath. Like his partner, he wore white camouflage and his face was covered in a frost-speckled beard. A large brown bear stepped out of the snowy woods and lazily plodded towards a stream below. Bruce saw the dark markings on the bear's hindquarters and knew it was the same one they had been tracking for the past week.
"This is your kill," the man to Bruce's right said. For the past six months Bruce had been under his wing. The legendary man they called the Hunter had already him so much about tracking, scouting, and of course hunting. The only hunting Bruce had known prior to this was duck hunting with his uncle once when he was a teenager. And even that had only entailed shooting at a pack of birds as someone else found them and stirred them up. Thanks to the Hunter Bruce could not only hunt, but also survive and thrive in some of the harshest wilderness this planet had to offer.
The Hunter cycled a round into the rifle and began to hand it to Bruce before he stopped himself and laughed. "I forgot. Man who wants to be hunter, but not use guns. For you there is only one thing."
Bruce pulled his hunting knife from its side holster. It was ten inches and had a serrated blade. "Me against a bear with nothing but my knife... Kraven, are you sure?"
"What is the first rule of the hunt?"
"'Know your prey, watch it. Study it, get inside its head. Know it like it were you own flesh and blood.'"
"Da. For past week, we watch, we study. We see bear in fighting. We know bear's every movement, we know how bear thinks. That is most valuable weapon, worth more than a thousand of my rifles."
"You're right."
Bruce began to slowly creep through the snow. He was stopped as Kraven grabbed his ankle. "I will watch," he said with a nod. "If need be, I will but bear now... but then again, maybe not. When I was in Spetsnaz , we had saying when we did not live up to expectations:
'Иногда вы едите медведя, а иногда медведь ест вас.'"
"What does that mean?"
"'Sometimes, you eat bear and sometimes bear eat you.' In your case saying is quite literal, no?"
"Yes," Bruce said as he began to crawl towards the bear. "Quite."
Wayne Tower
Now"Oh, Bruce, let me introduce you to one of our newest ADAs... Pretty young thing. Maybe even a potential candidate for the seat in the upcoming election."
"And me without my checkbook handy. Maybe they won't want to talk to me..."
Mrs. Van Patten, actually Judge Van Patten, laughed and took my hand. I followed behind her and let her lead me through the crowd gathered in my penthouse. The Thomas & Martha Wayne Charity Fundraiser, a black tie event that I was hoping to turn into a yearly gala. All proceeds were going to helping lower income Gotham residents find permanent work, affordable housing, and any medical treatment they would need. I may be doing... interesting work as Batman, but the work as Bruce Wayne is just as important, if not more important, to the future well-being of the city.
"Bruce Wayne," Mrs. Van Patten said as she stopped in front two people. A tall, handsome man in a tux and a shorter, blonde haired woman beside him dressed in a navy evening gown. "I want you to meet the District Attorney Office's newest star, Miss Janice Porter."
The blonde woman smiled and held her hand out for me. I shook it and grinned. "Well, the judge said you were a pretty one. I had no idea she had a habit of making understatements."
"Oh, Mister Wayne," Porter said with a laugh. "I'm flattered, by both your words and Judge Van Patten's. This is my fiancé, Henry."
I shook hands with the man accompany Porter and nodded. "So, the judge tells me you may have eyes for the DA seat?"
"That's putting the cart before the horse. I've only been in town for a few months. Lots of factors to consider, and the election is a long way away."
"Well, if you're ever interested in making a run I have lots and lots of disposable income, and like most people with too much money I like to meddle in politics. If I like what you have to offer we can work out a deal."
"I'm flattered, I really am. But for now--"
She continued to talk, but something across the room caught my eye. Someone with their back to me but with an unmistakable frame.
"--so just take a rain check."
"Will do," I said with a nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. If you'll excuse me."
I walked through the crowd and caught snippets of conversation as I navigated through the social scene.
"--missioner Pauling is just in it for the pension now, milk more time until he can retire--"
"--blepot is supposed to be coming back to town with some new business venture. His father, Chester, was always such a good businessman--"
"--And Mister Fields, let me introduce you to Miss Felicia Hardy--"
"Excuse me," I said as I approached the man. "I'm looking"
"You seek someone," the man said. He slowly turned around and revealed his face. Years had passed and there was more gray than I had remembered, but I would never forget the face and cold eyes of my one-time mentor. "And you have found them. Hello, richboy," Sergi Kravenoff said with a smirk.
"Kraven," I said without any warmth in my voice. "What are you doing here?"
"Not so happy to see me? We may have not parted on the best of circumstances but you were still my friend."
"You didn't answer my question," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"The hunt, my friend. Always the hunt. It calls me to Gotham."
"But there's nothing to hunt in the city," I said with a skeptical look.
"I am working for a client. They wish to bag big game. They call me in to hunt."
"What are you hunting?"
"I am--"
"Pardon me, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he approached us. "Councilman Dickerson is requesting your presence."
"Duty calls," I said with a glance towards my awaiting guests. "Enjoy the party... "
"I will try. If only you would serve vodka. Drink of real men, not champagne."
"I'll see what I can do."
I nodded and followed Alfred through the party. "Soon as you can, Alfred, I want you to pull the guest list for me. See who has plus one invitations and run those people through the computer downstairs, combing through their recent financial history. Look for large amounts of cash that have been withdrawn within the last thirty days. After that talk to security about the man I was talking to and see if he came here alone or with a guest."
"The large Russian?"
"Yes. He's here tonight on business, I know it. First rule of the hunt, Alfred: Know your prey. Watch it. Study it. Get inside its head. Know it like it were your own flesh and blood.'"
"Inspired poetry, sir. But who is he?"
"Sergi Kravenoff," I said, turning to look back at him. His eyes were watching me, unblinking and focused. "And he's one of the most dangerous men in the world."
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