Batman 4 - Batman & Robin Read Online Free PDF

a gigantic gem in it was beginning to glow. First blue, then white. And in a matter of a few seconds, the case exploded into a thousand flying fragments.
    Through the storm of ice and glass, Clayton heard a peal of laughter. He traced it to its source.
    Across the frozen floor. Past snow-covered mock-ups of Aztec ruins. Up the stone steps of a pyramidal altar.
    To a tall, broad, silver-suited figure, holding aloft what looked like a massive bazooka—no doubt the weapon that had shattered the display case—in savage but silent celebration of his triumph.
    There were heavy metal boots on his feet, heavy metal gauntlets on his forearms, and a heavy metal shell protecting his upper body. His transparent helmet revealed a bizarre, bluish countenance rimed with frost.
    As if he could feel Clayton’s gaze on him, the figure turned to face him. Eyes like ice chips focused on him, made him feel like an insect. Less than an insect. And suddenly, Clayton knew who the intruder was, though until now he’d only heard about him.
    It was the villain known as Mr. Freeze.
    But Freeze didn’t look like a man. Gazing down haughtily from on high, holding his fearsome weapon aloft, he looked like some wintry god of evil—some high-tech monster hungering for his soul. And as much as Clayton tried to tell himself that was impossible, that such things didn’t exist, his trembling knees were far from convinced.
    “The Iceman cometh,” Freeze intoned, in a voice as cold and flat and lifeless as the arctic wastes.
    Then, almost as an afterthought, he cracked a smile at his little joke. And turned in the direction of the Aztec ruins.
    Following his stare, Clayton saw something he had missed the first time—something that had been added to the exhibit. Three dark-suited figures, frozen in various postures with guns in their hands.
    Sanchez and the others. Iced solid before they could interfere with Freeze’s plans. Clayton grimaced at the horror of it.
    Suddenly, he felt his arms grabbed from behind. He squeezed his trigger, but the shot went awry. Then someone ripped the gun from his hand.
    Unable to get a good look at his assailants, he struggled to free himself—but to no avail. As he was dragged to the base of the pyramid steps, he saw Freeze bring his weapon down and train it on him.
    Clayton’s heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to choke him. His legs were made of rubber. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.
    “Please,” he begged Mr. Freeze. “Have mercy . . .”
    The figure in the silver suit descended slowly, majestically. He was shimmering, terrifying. And he seemed to like the idea.
    “I’m afraid,” he said, peering into Clayton’s eyes, “that my condition has left me cold to your pleas.”
    Then, without warning, he fired his gun. A beam of energy shot out, engulfing the guard in its hideous, pale glow. He could feel every process in his body slowing down, going numb.
    At long last, there was no disputing it. Clayton Krupzic definitely had ice water in his veins.

    Freeze didn’t let up on his cryonic beam until the guard was frozen solid. Then he reached out with his gloved fist and knocked on the man’s icy cheek. The sound he heard was a hollow one.
    “A copsicle,” he observed.
    His gang of thugs, whom he had dubbed the Icemen, chuckled among themselves as they skated backward in their thermal suits. They were giving Freeze the space he craved—the space he deserved. He had trained them well, he mused.
    Then he approached the shattered display case. With care not to puncture his suit, he began to wipe away the fragments of glass and steel.
    “A brief lesson on the ways of the universe,” he said to no one in particular. “Some substances are invulnerable to the heat of a thousand suns. There are stones that defy the weight of mountains piled on their backs. Certain subatomic particles exist forever and will outlive God himself. But in this universe,” he pontificated, “there is only one