CHAPTER 1

HIGH SECURITY

On the roof of Gotham Museum, Batman stood motionless in the moonlit shadow of an air conditioning unit.

Downstairs, the party celebrating the museum’s newest exhibit was starting. Batman could hear the limousines approaching out front. He could hear crowds cheering and reporters squawking about the arrival celebrities.

He had been invited, of course — as his alter ego, billionaire Bruce Wayne.

In fact, Bruce was one of the biggest patrons of this exhibit of rare Ancient Egyptian artifacts, most of which had never been shown in the United States. He would join the party soon.

But first, he was going to patrol the roof — as Batman. Security couldn’t be strong enough when the museum was full of such ancient treasures. Any one of the rare artifacts downstairs would fetch a fortune on the black market.

Gotham’s burglars wouldn’t be able to resist trying to steal something. The valuable artifacts were as tempting to them as catnip is to a cat. And now was the time for them to strike — before the galleries were open. The museum guards were busy protecting the arriving elite as they entered the reception hall.

Batman shifted deeper into the shadows. He watched beams of light dance against the cloudy night sky that were shining up from near the museum entrance. He listened intently, on high alert.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

A scuffling noise came from across the roof. Burglars, Batman knew.

Batman smiled. He had trained himself to think like a criminal, and he was always pleased when his training paid off. It was so important to be able to guess what thieves would do before they even knew what their own plans were.

Keeping his body completely still, Batman swiveled his head and zeroed in on the source of the sound. He caught sight of a man in a black ski mask.

The burglar was hoisting himself over the edge of the roof railing. Batman watched silently as the muscular man leaned over the railing and helped two more masked men climb up.

The men quickly scanned the area, but they didn’t see Batman in the dark shadows. Then they whispered to each other and headed toward the main elevator shaft in the middle of the roof.

As the burglars crept closer to his hidden location, the Dark Knight got ready to pounce.

“We’ve got to hurry,” said the leader. “The show has started. We have fifteen minutes before they move from the reception hall into the galleries. So now’s the time for our party.”

“No,” Batman spoke from the shadows. “This is my party.”

The three robbers froze at the sound of Batman’s voice. The Dark Knight was already jumping at them.

FLAP! FLAP! FLAP!

His cape billowed behind him as he landed in the middle of the burglars. Immediately, the hero flattened one crook with a kick to his knee. The robber howled and fell to the ground.

“I’m out of here!” the skinniest robber cried. He turned to flee, but Batman caught his ankle with his boot and tripped him. He hit the ground with a THUDDDDDDDD!

Only the muscular leader was left standing. The masked criminal pulled out a wicked-looking club.

“Bring it, Batman,” the crook said with a sneer. “You’re not so tough.”

“You don’t think so?” Batman asked. “Try me.”

With a yell, the masked burglar lunged at Batman with the weapon. But Batman simply sidestepped his attack, swirling his cape like a bullfighter. As the robber stumbled past him, the Dark Knight whacked him on the back of the head with the side of his fist. CLUNKKKKKKK!

The muscular burglar sprawled onto the roof and let go of the club. The weapon skittered across the floor.

Before the leader could get up, Batman grabbed him by the back of his jacket. He threw the robber into the side of the air conditioner, knocking him out cold.

The Dark Knight tied up the three robbers and left them bound to a TV satellite dish. He called Commissioner Gordon and let him know to send police to the roof to pick them up.

Then the super hero hurried down to the alley behind the museum to meet Alfred in one of his limousines.

“All clear on the roof, Master Bruce?” asked his loyal butler.

“It is now,” Batman replied.

With the top of the museum secured, Batman felt confident that the priceless treasures inside were safe for the night. He had helped Commissioner Gordon choose the guards at all the museum’s entrances, and he had personally inspected the building’s security cameras and alarms.

Nobody was going to steal any of the Ancient Egyptian artifacts on his watch.

In the time it took Alfred to drive around to the front of the museum, Batman changed into a sharp tuxedo. He stepped out of the limo as the last guests were entering the front doors.

Bruce climbed the museum stairs. He was pleased when the guards stopped him and asked for his identification and invitation. Even though they recognized him, it meant that they were taking their security jobs seriously. He was also happy to discover that Alfred had thoughtfully put the invitation in the inside tuxedo pocket.

After passing the guards, Bruce walked into the museum. He headed down the hall toward the reception area, nodding at socialites along the way.

The reception room was a big, fancy chamber with long, white curtains framing the windows and silver chandeliers dangling overhead. A few of the museum’s less-famous paintings hung on the walls, flanked by marble statues. In the main area of the room, tall, round tables covered by white tablecloths had been set up. Celebrities gathered around them, eating appetizers and drinking champagne.

Bruce smiled as Warren Pickering, the museum’s director, met him near the room’s entrance. “Bruce!” Mr. Pickering said, “so great to see you. Thanks to your generosity, the Egyptian Antiquities exhibit is simply stunning.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Bruce replied. “I’m sure your museum has displayed the artifacts to their best advantage.”

Mr. Pickering nodded. “We’ll be opening the galleries in a few moments,” he said. “Now please enjoy our little party.”

Bruce shook Mr. Pickering’s hand. Then he made his way toward a waiter carrying a tray of appetizers. His exercise on the roof had made him hungry.

The waiter handed Bruce a napkin. Bruce took a small cracker from the tray. The cracker was topped with a strange-looking pinkish mush. Bruce sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. It smelled … unpleasant.

“Maybe it tastes better than it looks,” Bruce said.

The waiter simply nodded, so Bruce popped the cracker into his mouth. It was disgusting.

Bruce quickly spat the chewed-up cracker into his napkin. “I think the museum needs a new caterer,” Bruce told the waiter. “This tastes like cat food.”

“How would you know?” asked a familiar female voice behind him. “Have you eaten cat food?”

Bruce turned around and raised an eyebrow. He was facing a beautiful woman who he knew all too well.

It was Selina Kyle.

Catwoman.