THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

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Today’s lesson: Don’t screw with Bane’s “family.” It won’t end well. ;-) Find out what I mean in my next installment of INTO THE FIRE.

Thirty-six

            Bane was alone in the small, warm, windowless room. A fly buzzed around his head, but he paid it no heed as he waited. He glanced at his watch. His men should be here any minute. In anticipation his fingers twitched, his breathing deep and even through the mask. The wheezing, metallic sound made him think of Talia and her recent concerned remark about his respiration and how it had become more labored over the years. The scar tissue in his sinuses often forced him to breathe through his mouth. Coupled with this annoyance was the pain of his old injuries, a pain that worsened every year with age and his body’s strengthening resistance to the drugs. And the increased discomfort did nothing for his daily mood, as Barsad often pointed out.
            Just as Bane’s thoughts touched on his lieutenant, Barsad entered the room and closed the door behind him. His heavy-lidded eyes were troubled as he pulled the shemagh away from his face. His clothing, like Bane’s, was that of a simple citizen of Jaipur, but hidden beneath were two pistols and at least one knife.
            “Where the hell are they?” Barsad groused, pacing.
            “They will be here,” Bane said calmly. “Patience, brother.”
            But he knew his assurance was lost upon his second in command. Since first learning of this operation, Barsad had been torn by indecision. While he understood its necessity and purpose and even approved of it, he had misgivings about its ramifications. He lacked Bane’s confidence that there would be no fall-out, no damage to Maysam.
            “Once they arrive,” Bane said, “your presence is not required, brother. I will do this myself, as I have said I would.”
            “No, I’ll stay here. I wanna see the look on that bitch’s face.”
            Five more minutes passed, then Bane heard the door to the hallway open and the sound of a woman’s muffled voice getting closer. The door to the room opened, and two of the League’s men entered with their captive, a woman dressed in flowing black Muslim dress, hooded. The operatives’ gazes met Bane’s, and he gave a simple nod to dismiss them. They shut the door behind them, but they would not be far.
            The woman flinched at the closing of the door, and her head moved erratically from side to side as if trying to verify that her captors had deserted her. Her rapid, fearful breathing could be heard against her gag, and she struggled with her bindings. Barsad took a step forward and removed the hood with a rough swipe. The unexpected action caused the woman to gasp in surprise and instinctively back away.
            Free of the blinding hood, Iba blinked into the weak light of a single bulb suspended from the low ceiling. Stumbling back toward the door, she stared with widened eyes at Bane and Barsad, paling. With a knife now in hand, Barsad brandished it to frighten her even more and stepped close. She had nowhere to go and so instead cried out against the gag. With one smooth move, Barsad’s blade sliced through the cloth gag, drawing a nick of blood from her cheek. Though relieved he had not slit her throat, she was so alarmed that she could not immediately find her voice. However, it did not take long for a certain amount of indignation to empower her now that she could see her captors were not enemies of her husband’s, as she had no doubt assumed when she had been taken.
            “You,” she uttered, glancing between Bane and Barsad. “What is the meaning of this?”
            “I think you know,” Bane rumbled, stepping closer to her, fingers flexing.
            Iba’s dark gaze viewed him with contempt, the fear overpowered by her arrogance. She was a woman accustomed to doing, saying, and getting whatever she wanted.
            “If I knew,” she sniped, “I would not have needed to ask.”
            “I have been a man of forbearance over the years since Siddig’s death. But I fear my patience has reached an end.”
            Iba’s eyes flicked toward Barsad and the knife in his hand. “Is this some game of Maysam’s? A way to intimidate me? She is a jealous old fool.”
            Barsad barked a laugh. “Jealous of what? She’s twice the woman you are.”
            “She has nothing but that palace, a place that is rightfully mine now.” She glanced behind her. “Untie me at once. I will tell Amir of your insult to his wife, sending thugs to kill my security detail and kidnap me.” Again she looked at Barsad, this time with a small smirk. “One of whom used to work for you. You killed one of your own.”
            Barsad had a smirk to rival hers. “Kazim isn’t dead. Who do you think told us where you’d be today?”
            Color again drained down Iba’s face into her tapered chin. But she quickly rallied. “I said untie me. How dare you treat me this way? My husband will have your heads.”
            Bane stepped even closer, and Iba instinctively pressed against the door. Her effort to appear in control wavered under Bane’s stare, his powerful chest nearly touching her.
            “I warned you,” Bane said with measured words. “I told you and Amir that there would be consequences if you continued to harass Maysam.”
            “Harass? We have allowed her to live where she no longer belongs. I would call that charity, not harassment. But no doubt she has filled your heads with lies about us. After all, what could you know of the real truth when you come to Rajasthan but once a year to defile her granddaughter? If you truly cared about Maysam, you would never dishonor her in such a way. And the same for her whore of a grandchild. But considering who Talia’s father and mother were, I am surprised by none of it.”
            With an irrepressible flare of fury, Bane reached for her. She had time only for a brief gasp before he snapped her neck. He held onto her as the life left her eyes, then he let her body drop.
            “It’s about damn time,” Barsad griped. “You let her go on long enough. She always was a mouthy bitch.”
            Bane turned away, sighed to himself, forced away the rage over Iba’s remarks. “Get her out of here. And make sure they find her body.”
            Barsad dragged Iba away from the door so it could be opened. “I hope you’re right about this, brother. Amir’s gonna know it was you. Maysam isn’t safe there, especially now.”
            “Amir will suspect me, yes, but he will have no proof. The mere suspicion will ensure that he gives Maysam the peace she deserves. Amir will be more relieved that it was his wife’s neck I broke instead of his own. You have nothing to fear, brother, and neither does Maysam. I would not have done this unless I was certain. You should know that.”
            Somewhat sheepish, Barsad nodded. “Well, whatever happens, I’m glad you took the bitch out. It was long overdue.” He could not conceal a small grin. “I only wish you would’ve let me do it.”
###
            Daichi Sao’s voice over the telephone sounded strained and full of displeasure, though he was normally a man who hid his emotions. “I’m afraid the good Doctor has refused our offer, brother. I am sorry that I have failed you.”
            Bane stared into the dark night beyond the SUV’s windshield as the vehicle sped through Jaipur’s streets. “It is no failure, brother. We merely move onto our next step. I assume the Doctor refused us because he received a more…appealing proposition from our American friends?”
            “Of course he would not say, but our brother inside confirmed this.”
            Bane felt Barsad’s curious eyes upon him from behind the wheel of the SUV, but he did not meet his lieutenant’s gaze. “Very well. Does he know where the rendezvous will be?”
            “Yes. I will send the coordinates to you.”

            “Very well. Deadshot and I will head the team.” Bane smiled to himself. “The good Doctor will live to regret his lack of vision. And the Americans as well. They think they have thwarted us, but in reality they have given us an excellent opportunity. I will be in touch tomorrow after I work through the details, brother.”

(This story is also available at FanFiction.net, Ao3, and NolanFans.com)

Today’s lesson: Don’t screw with Bane’s “family.” It won’t end well. ;-) Find out what I mean in my next installment of INTO THE FIRE.

Thirty-six

            Bane was alone in the small, warm, windowless room. A fly buzzed around his head, but he paid it no heed as he waited. He glanced at his watch. His men should be here any minute. In anticipation his fingers twitched, his breathing deep and even through the mask. The wheezing, metallic sound made him think of Talia and her recent concerned remark about his respiration and how it had become more labored over the years. The scar tissue in his sinuses often forced him to breathe through his mouth. Coupled with this annoyance was the pain of his old injuries, a pain that worsened every year with age and his body’s strengthening resistance to the drugs. And the increased discomfort did nothing for his daily mood, as Barsad often pointed out.

            Just as Bane’s thoughts touched on his lieutenant, Barsad entered the room and closed the door behind him. His heavy-lidded eyes were troubled as he pulled the shemagh away from his face. His clothing, like Bane’s, was that of a simple citizen of Jaipur, but hidden beneath were two pistols and at least one knife.

            “Where the hell are they?” Barsad groused, pacing.

            “They will be here,” Bane said calmly. “Patience, brother.”

            But he knew his assurance was lost upon his second in command. Since first learning of this operation, Barsad had been torn by indecision. While he understood its necessity and purpose and even approved of it, he had misgivings about its ramifications. He lacked Bane’s confidence that there would be no fall-out, no damage to Maysam.

            “Once they arrive,” Bane said, “your presence is not required, brother. I will do this myself, as I have said I would.”

            “No, I’ll stay here. I wanna see the look on that bitch’s face.”

            Five more minutes passed, then Bane heard the door to the hallway open and the sound of a woman’s muffled voice getting closer. The door to the room opened, and two of the League’s men entered with their captive, a woman dressed in flowing black Muslim dress, hooded. The operatives’ gazes met Bane’s, and he gave a simple nod to dismiss them. They shut the door behind them, but they would not be far.

            The woman flinched at the closing of the door, and her head moved erratically from side to side as if trying to verify that her captors had deserted her. Her rapid, fearful breathing could be heard against her gag, and she struggled with her bindings. Barsad took a step forward and removed the hood with a rough swipe. The unexpected action caused the woman to gasp in surprise and instinctively back away.

            Free of the blinding hood, Iba blinked into the weak light of a single bulb suspended from the low ceiling. Stumbling back toward the door, she stared with widened eyes at Bane and Barsad, paling. With a knife now in hand, Barsad brandished it to frighten her even more and stepped close. She had nowhere to go and so instead cried out against the gag. With one smooth move, Barsad’s blade sliced through the cloth gag, drawing a nick of blood from her cheek. Though relieved he had not slit her throat, she was so alarmed that she could not immediately find her voice. However, it did not take long for a certain amount of indignation to empower her now that she could see her captors were not enemies of her husband’s, as she had no doubt assumed when she had been taken.

            “You,” she uttered, glancing between Bane and Barsad. “What is the meaning of this?”

            “I think you know,” Bane rumbled, stepping closer to her, fingers flexing.

            Iba’s dark gaze viewed him with contempt, the fear overpowered by her arrogance. She was a woman accustomed to doing, saying, and getting whatever she wanted.

            “If I knew,” she sniped, “I would not have needed to ask.”

            “I have been a man of forbearance over the years since Siddig’s death. But I fear my patience has reached an end.”

            Iba’s eyes flicked toward Barsad and the knife in his hand. “Is this some game of Maysam’s? A way to intimidate me? She is a jealous old fool.”

            Barsad barked a laugh. “Jealous of what? She’s twice the woman you are.”

            “She has nothing but that palace, a place that is rightfully mine now.” She glanced behind her. “Untie me at once. I will tell Amir of your insult to his wife, sending thugs to kill my security detail and kidnap me.” Again she looked at Barsad, this time with a small smirk. “One of whom used to work for you. You killed one of your own.”

            Barsad had a smirk to rival hers. “Kazim isn’t dead. Who do you think told us where you’d be today?”

            Color again drained down Iba’s face into her tapered chin. But she quickly rallied. “I said untie me. How dare you treat me this way? My husband will have your heads.”

            Bane stepped even closer, and Iba instinctively pressed against the door. Her effort to appear in control wavered under Bane’s stare, his powerful chest nearly touching her.

            “I warned you,” Bane said with measured words. “I told you and Amir that there would be consequences if you continued to harass Maysam.”

            “Harass? We have allowed her to live where she no longer belongs. I would call that charity, not harassment. But no doubt she has filled your heads with lies about us. After all, what could you know of the real truth when you come to Rajasthan but once a year to defile her granddaughter? If you truly cared about Maysam, you would never dishonor her in such a way. And the same for her whore of a grandchild. But considering who Talia’s father and mother were, I am surprised by none of it.”

            With an irrepressible flare of fury, Bane reached for her. She had time only for a brief gasp before he snapped her neck. He held onto her as the life left her eyes, then he let her body drop.

            “It’s about damn time,” Barsad griped. “You let her go on long enough. She always was a mouthy bitch.”

            Bane turned away, sighed to himself, forced away the rage over Iba’s remarks. “Get her out of here. And make sure they find her body.”

            Barsad dragged Iba away from the door so it could be opened. “I hope you’re right about this, brother. Amir’s gonna know it was you. Maysam isn’t safe there, especially now.”

            “Amir will suspect me, yes, but he will have no proof. The mere suspicion will ensure that he gives Maysam the peace she deserves. Amir will be more relieved that it was his wife’s neck I broke instead of his own. You have nothing to fear, brother, and neither does Maysam. I would not have done this unless I was certain. You should know that.”

            Somewhat sheepish, Barsad nodded. “Well, whatever happens, I’m glad you took the bitch out. It was long overdue.” He could not conceal a small grin. “I only wish you would’ve let me do it.”

###

            Daichi Sao’s voice over the telephone sounded strained and full of displeasure, though he was normally a man who hid his emotions. “I’m afraid the good Doctor has refused our offer, brother. I am sorry that I have failed you.”

            Bane stared into the dark night beyond the SUV’s windshield as the vehicle sped through Jaipur’s streets. “It is no failure, brother. We merely move onto our next step. I assume the Doctor refused us because he received a more…appealing proposition from our American friends?”

            “Of course he would not say, but our brother inside confirmed this.”

            Bane felt Barsad’s curious eyes upon him from behind the wheel of the SUV, but he did not meet his lieutenant’s gaze. “Very well. Does he know where the rendezvous will be?”

            “Yes. I will send the coordinates to you.”

            “Very well. Deadshot and I will head the team.” Bane smiled to himself. “The good Doctor will live to regret his lack of vision. And the Americans as well. They think they have thwarted us, but in reality they have given us an excellent opportunity. I will be in touch tomorrow after I work through the details, brother.”

(This story is also available at FanFiction.net, Ao3, and NolanFans.com)

Filed under Into the Fire Bane Barsad Talia al Ghul fanfic Baniac

214 notes

tomhardydotorg:

For Tom’s Birthday , a pic from the dotorg vaults to all of you.Thank you all for being amazing Tom Hardy fans and for supporting dotorg.
 To Tom, Happy Birthday.Thank you for giving us wonderful characters to love and hate and for making movies that give us more than we could hope for. We hope you have a fabulous  birthday with lots of love and laughter
love and best wishes from all of us
.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DA MAN! He’s a Virgo like me. :)

tomhardydotorg:

For Tom’s Birthday , a pic from the dotorg vaults to all of you.Thank you all for being amazing Tom Hardy fans and for supporting dotorg.


To Tom, Happy Birthday.Thank you for giving us wonderful characters to love and hate and for making movies that give us more than we could hope for.
We hope you have a fabulous  birthday with lots of love and laughter

love and best wishes from all of us

.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DA MAN! He’s a Virgo like me. :)

(via tomhardysswag)

Filed under Tom Hardy Happy birthday

30 notes

bcollis:

Marion Cotillard looking classically beautiful in Nine


            “Jiddah said you left with one of her men. What’s he like? Is he the man who answered your phone?”
            “Yes.” Bane glanced over his shoulder into the apartment where Barsad was sitting up on the couch, his blankets shoved aside, and a cup of coffee now in his hands. He had been watching Bane and did not try to hide the fact by looking away; instead he lifted his coffee as if in tribute and gave a wry, knowing smile. Bane stiffened slightly when he realized what the man had assumed about the female caller. “So far, he is acceptable. Time will tell. But your grandmother thinks highly of him. She seems to believe we will work well together.”

            A hint of Talia’s usual impishness could be heard in her light laugh. “Did she warn him that you don’t play well with others?”
— Excerpt from my third Bane fic, INTO THE FIRE

bcollis:

Marion Cotillard looking classically beautiful in Nine

            “Jiddah said you left with one of her men. What’s he like? Is he the man who answered your phone?”

            “Yes.” Bane glanced over his shoulder into the apartment where Barsad was sitting up on the couch, his blankets shoved aside, and a cup of coffee now in his hands. He had been watching Bane and did not try to hide the fact by looking away; instead he lifted his coffee as if in tribute and gave a wry, knowing smile. Bane stiffened slightly when he realized what the man had assumed about the female caller. “So far, he is acceptable. Time will tell. But your grandmother thinks highly of him. She seems to believe we will work well together.”

            A hint of Talia’s usual impishness could be heard in her light laugh. “Did she warn him that you don’t play well with others?”

— Excerpt from my third Bane fic, INTO THE FIRE

(via leagueofshadowsconfessions)

Filed under Talia al Ghul Bane marion cotillard fanfic Into the Fire Baniac