First story in a trilogy that deals with Batman's first years in the FFDCU. I do not own the character Batman or any other characters or storylines owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros.
Four men stood outside the warehouse. Being that it was still winter, there was a bitter chill blowing through. Three of them were huddling against the warehouse for warmth. The fourth one however did not seem bothered by the cold and was sitting on a table playing solitaire.
"Jack," whispered one of the men to the fourth man. "What's taking them so long?"
Jack stopped playing with his cards.
"Traffic? Who knows? You got a hot date or something?"
"No it's just I don't like sitting here for awhile. I feel like we are sitting ducks!"
Jack let out a chuckle.
"Steve, come on! Thorne runs this city! And who is Thorne's right hand man?"
Steve gulped. The laugh Jack gave unnerved him. It was high pitch.
"You…"
"Exactly! As long as I am with you, no one can touch us!"
At that moment the sound of heavy trucks was heard.
"Here they come!" Jack said and shuffled all his cards into one deck before putting it into his pocket. The deck was brand new.
Three delivery trucks pulled up. Out stepped ten men armed with rifles. They all looked at the four men outside the warehouse with contempt. One more man stepped out of the last truck. He was Hispanic and had his hair tied in a ponytail and wore dark shades. He had tattoos on his hands.
"Welcome Mr. Sanchez!" Jack greeted ignoring the intimidating aura Sanchez's men were setting.
Mr. Sanchez was not as enthusiastic. He looked at the warehouse with disgust.
"I thought Mister Thorne would have chosen a more hospitable location…" Mr. Sanchez said in a thick Mexican accent.
Jack was not perturbed by the slight.
"Sorry that was my choice! You see I prefer to do business in more quiet areas."
Mr. Sanchez looked at his guards and nodded. They lowered their rifles but still had them ready to load.
"Well, let us hurry then, Mr. Napier! I don't have all night!"
Steve opened the door to the warehouse and soon everyone was inside.
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On a gargoyle by the old Gotham church, hidden in the shadows stood a man. Or if you would call him a man. The man jumped off the gargoyle and landed on a lower building next to it without making a sound. He moved in the shadows. He moved with a purpose.
Pulling out something by his waist, he shot it into the sky and swung to the next building.
The man was in a hurry. There was a big deal going down tonight and he wanted to be there. The problem was he had narrowed it down to three locations. He already staked out two locations. That left a warehouse in the eastern district.
He stopped to check a strange belt on his waist. It was armed, ready to go. Time to act soon.
00000
Jack sat at a table surrounded by his three guards while Mr. Sanchez sat on the opposite end surrounded by his ten guards. Mr. Sanchez looked smug and confident. He had the upper hand here. What was disturbing him though was how Mr. Napier seemed to be grinning like an idiot.
"What's so funny?" Mr. Sanchez threatened.
"I'll tell you later!" Jack said. He then proceeded to examine a bag that was taken out of one of the trucks.
Taking a lick of a white substance from the bag, Jack grinned.
"Heroin. You really do deliver Mr. Sanchez."
Mr. Sanchez just continued to glare at him through his shades.
"Now let's talk business. Mr. Thorne has agreed to sell your drugs in Gotham with fifty percent of the profits…"
"Hold it!" Mr. Sanchez cried angrily getting to his feet. His ten guards all aimed their rifles at the four men in front of them.
"The deal on the phone was thirty percent!"
Jack did not seem intimidated by the threatening rifles pointing at him and just continued to smile.
"But Mr. Sanchez you were giving a special reward in exchange for settling for fifty percent…"
"And what's that?" Mr. Sanchez asked pulling out a pistol aiming between Jack's eyes.
At that moment the sound of many weapons clicking caused Mr. Sanchez and his men to look around. About twenty men were surrounding Mr. Sanchez and his men. All rifles pointed ready to kill.
Due to Mr. Sanchez and his men pointing all their guns at Jack and his three guards at the time, there was no way they could return fire without being slaughtered. Defeated Mr. Sanchez slowly lowered his pistol while reluctantly ordering his men to do the same.
Jack stood up, grinning smugly at how quick the tables had turn.
"Now the special reward is…you get to live!"
And before anyone could react Jack pulled out two pistols and began to shoot each one of Mr. Sanchez's unarmed men while laughing wickedly. Mr. Sanchez cringed and his eyes widened in fear.
"You're crazy!" he shouted.
Jack ignored the verbal insult and proceeded to pull out the deck of cards he had earlier. He walked to the recently slain bodies and proceeded to drop a card on each one.
"I hope you don't mind, but I got to keep my nickname 'Black Jack' going on."
Jack then motioned to some of his men still pointing guns at Mr. Sanchez.
"Start unloading the trucks."
00000
The man heard gunshot in the distance causing him to freeze. Was he too late?
He immediately hurried across the rooftops and was on the roof across a warehouse. Three delivery trucks were outside. About ten men were opening them up.
Immediately the man deduced what happened. It was a drug deal gone bad. It looked like the buyers double crossed the sellers. Time to act.
The man dived toward the trucks.
00000
Mr. Sanchez was glaring Jack with the utmost venom as Jack proceeded to reload his pistol.
"You see Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Thorne is glad to do business with anyone. But when you try to do it here, you are on his home turf. Gotham is Mr. Thorne's land. He is the judge and jury here. He decides what is fair and not."
"And what does that make you crazy man?" Mr. Sanchez asked while spitting on the table.
Jack paused to think.
"I guess that makes me the sheriff. I patrol the city and make sure it's safe from scum like you."
"Well you got that wrong," growled a harsh voice in the distance.
Alarmed Jack and his men immediately jumped up, pointing their weapons in all direction to find the source of the disembodied voice.
But before anyone could find it, the sound of something whooshing through the air was heard and the lights went out.
When the lights went out many guns started going off in panic. Blindly shooting over the place. Jack also heard many of his men screaming in terror and the sound of someone beating them.
Jack shot blindly in the darkness at where he thought he heard the source of noise. But then he heard some movement above him to his left. Frustrated he kept shooting.
Realizing it was in his best interest to get out of here, Jack ran to the front door. If he could make it to the truck he would be safe.
Upon walking outside to his horror he discovered his men who were supposed to be delivering the drugs were all tied up and unconscious. The tires of the trucks were meanwhile slashed.
Jack thought he heard the slightest movement outside the warehouse door. Whoever it was, they were chasing him.
Jack ran and hid behind one of the trucks, trying to control his breathing.
Listening quietly, he heard the faint sound of someone walking. Jack smiled and noticed the streetlight was casting a shadow to his right. Getting his gun ready, he emerged from the right side of the truck and began to unload at his pursuer.
It was only after five shots did he realize there was no one there.
Before he could react, he felt something wrap itself around his ankle and before he knew it, he was flying upward in the air, upside down and screaming.
When he finally stopped moving, Jack found himself staring into two white soulless eyes. It was a man who was dressed in black. He wore a mask that had horns on his head like the devil. Jack had not really been this scared before. Something about this man gave off an aura of evil. This man seemed inhuman.
"Don't kill me!" Jack begged. He had forgone his pride at the moment. He was not ready to die yet.
"I wouldn't dream of it. I need you alive," the man in black whispered hoarsely. "I want you to be able to talk."
"What?" Jack asked confused.
"Tell all your friends that the city does not belong to them anymore. Tell Thorne he better watch his back. Tell them all that someone in Gotham is going to prey on them now."
"And who are you, crazy man?" Jack asked with fear.
The man grabbed Jack, who was still hanging upside down by the neck and brought him close.
"I'm Batman!" he whispered before letting Jack go.
Jack screamed as he fell toward the pavement, his speed picking up faster. He put his hands in front of his face in a pitiful attempt to protect himself from the inevitable impact.
But at the last moment he stopped moving. Jack realized the rope was still around his ankle and he was hanging upside down. His heart was still racing.