Chapter 1

Commissioner James Gordon walked briskly up the steps to the Gotham City Police Department Headquarters. He sighed. It seemed that he'd been spending more time at HQ than at home, nowadays. His wife, Barbara, wasn't too happy about that. After all, he did have a wife and kids at home that he needed to care for. But he cared for them by doing his job.

Gordon's hair was slightly askew and dark circles were starting to form under his eyes. He glanced at his watch with a look of despair. Barbara was definitely not happy about him being called into HQ at 3:30 in the morning. They didn't tell him why—all he knew was that it was urgent. "It's still dark outside!" Barbara had said. "And after all we've been through in the last twenty-four hours, can't they leave us alone?"

"In order to keep other families from experiencing the same thing that we did, I need to go to work. Even at this early hour," was what he'd said.

She had then grudgingly complied. What else was there for her to do? While she didn't like it, she knew that he was right. Gordon's job as Commissioner was to help stop the plague of crime in Gotham City. And he was going to do it whether they called him in at 3:30 A.M. or not. After all, when he was new to Gotham almost eleven years ago, he had gotten a job offer in Chicago. He could have gone there. But his wife had gotten used to living in Gotham and after his sudden outburst of promotions, he felt obligated to stay. And now this was where he was. After he had faked dead to help bring the Joker into custody, practically ruining Barbara's life, and then had his family nearly killed at the flip of Two-Face's fateful coin, he was almost fed up with this city. But not quite.

Gordon was, to be honest, too interested. Like when a person watches a soap opera marathon for hours because they need to know what happens next, whether it really matters or not. That was Gordon. He had to know what the Batman would do next (really, what other city had a man—if he was a man—who ran around in a black uniform and a cape to fight crime?) and he also felt like he needed to be there. While he wouldn't tell anybody about this but his family, Batman trusted him. And, Gordon later found out, Batman needed him. After all, Gordon had saved him from the Joker when Batman was unconscious. Gordon couldn't leave this city, no matter how dangerous it was, for the life of him. And it might just cost him that.

When Gordon got up to the doors of the building, shaking himself out of his reverie, he noticed that it was chaotic inside, with the GCPD trying to ward off the already-arrived news programs, photographers, and newspaper journalists. All of Gotham City's main press companies. This did not look good.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked Detective Ramierez, who happened to be nearby. He didn't like being Commissioner and not know what was going on.

Ramirez wore her kevlar with the white GCPD letters on the back, and her black hair in a ponytail. Her face was flushed from the excitement and there was a red bump on her forehead from where Two-Face had hit her with his gun the night before.

"Word somehow leaked out that the Joker escaped," she said with a hard expression on her face.

"What?" Gordon exclaimed. "The Joker escaped? We just got him contained! We didn't even move him to Arkham yet!" Arkham Asylum was where someone as crazy as the Joker was supposed to be; after all, he was an insane criminal mastermind. But they had just gotten the Joker from Batman the night before, when the hospital was blown up, the ferries were rigged with bombs, the hostages were under the clown masks, Two-Face was threatening his wife and kids with the very crucial flip of a coin...

"We're trying to hold off the press until we feel that we can release something to the public that won't make them go haywire," Ramirez stated. They pushed through the noisy crowd of GCPD and news station crews alike, both of which were trying to get each other to cave and either release more information or leave.

A man with a camera ran up to Gordon. A mic with the words "GCTV" on it was shoved into his face, quickly followed by five more colorful microphones of various news stations.

"Commissioner, what will happen when the streets of Gotham are once again plagued with this madman: the Joker?" The inquisitor asked this quickly yet clearly in his newscaster way.

Gordon didn't want to admit that he knew next to nothing about the subject. He was starting to get frustrated with this whole affair already. He was sleep-deprived, homesick—especially with the close call the night before—and irritated with the bombarding newscasters who asked him questions he didn't even know how to answer and didn't want to admit that. Ramirez noticed that he was getting frustrated and asked, more like commanded, that they leave him alone until they all knew more information. This worked and Gordon was led away, cameras flashing and a din of more questions left behind him.

When Gordon and Ramirez entered Gordon's office, he swiftly shut the door, blocking out the noise from below, and turned to Ramierez.

"How could he have possibly gotten out? Please tell me it wasn't another explosion," Gordon said.

Ramirez shook her head, dark ponytail bouncing.

"At least that's a relief." Gordon was trying to grasp at anything that would make him feel better about the situation. His head was spinning. "Wait, tell me how he got out later. What's important now is who's on the job?"

"The SWAT are out right now and trying to track him down. Unfortunately he is leading them into what is starting to look like a wild goose chase. They've been to the Narrows and back again three times now. Looks like the Joker's going to get the last laugh after all," Ramirez shook her head again. "I don't know what to do. He's gone."

"Not gone. The Joker's always hiding just around the corner in Gotham. We just need to find that corner and then get him," Gordon said. "Why didn't anyone tell me this earlier?"

"We didn't know about his escape until right before 3:30. We called you in as soon as we learned about it," she answered.

"Alright," Gordon said, pulling at his thinning dark hair. "Alright. How did the Joker escape?"

"Do you want to see?" Ramirez asked. Gordon knew that she knew the question was rhetorical. He didn't need to remind her that of course he needed to know: he was the Commissioner. Some people, almost including himself, couldn't quite grasp that yet. Some people didn't like Gordon. But those only seemed to be the bad-cops, and Gordon didn't care about what the bad-cops thought, as long as he could get them out of GCPD employment as soon as possible.

She nudged her head at the door to show him that there was something to see. He immediately followed.

Ramirez led him to the part of the cellblock that wasn't destroyed by the explosion from the Joker's escape the other night. GCPD had ordered for that to be fixed as soon as possible, so that they could start jailing people again. All of the prisoners caught in the explosion of the phone in the man's body had died, as well as the medics. Yet the police who were in the room that the Joker had been in when he asked for his phone call had survived the blast, albeit with wounds and concussions.

Walking through this area, Gordon finally felt the whole issue start to dawn on him. It was true: the Joker had escaped and Gordon was left to clean up the problem. He had a bad feeling that he wouldn't be keeping his title of Commissioner for long.

When they got to the area of the cellblock that hadn't been affected by the explosion, Gordon grit his teeth. He hadn't expected something like this.

The bodies of the six policemen guarding the cell were all lying on the ground, their faces smeared with the make-up: white all over their faces, black around their eyes, and the red smear of a smile that went from ear to ear. Looking closer, Gordon noticed that the smile was more than skin deep: the Joker had found a knife and carved a diabolical grin into each of their faces. There were HAHA's etched in what looked like blood on the wall, some of the A's randomly upside down. First day for Gordon on the job as Commissioner and this fiasco was what happened to him.

Gordon could stand dead bodies: he saw them constantly with his job. But people who he had known each scarred like this, each obviously tortured by this insane villain? This happened overnight, when he was happily sleeping in his bed next to Barbara...

"Everything was so quiet," Ramirez said, making Gordon jump out of his thoughts. "No one heard anything to sound the alarm."

Gordon kicked some of the joker cards that were lying around. "The son-of-a-bitch," he said through his teeth. Then he turned and walked over to the forensics group in the corner who were talking in low voices and taking pictures for further research. "What did we find? DNA?"

"No," one of them said, a man with brown hair and not any other really defining qualities. "No DNA, no blood except for theirs, no nothing. It's like he wasn't even here, but he obviously was. Look at all of the joker cards..."he swept his hand over the whole mess like he could make it all go away. Which is what Gordon wanted.

"So the Joker killed them and then left? How could he have left?"

"We're still trying to figure that out. It isn't easy to get into the Joker's mind," the forensics man said.

"But it can be done and it will be done. Contact me if you get anything. And do me a favor and keep this from the public for as long as I say so," Gordon said while walking out. He had to leave the room now. The pale faces with the smeared make-up were starting to upset him, which was odd because he was usually a man who could handle something like this. Must be the early hour, he told himself.

"Commissioner, we can't keep this from them for long," Ramirez said as they walked out of the cellblock.

"It won't be long," Gordon stated. "News will be out by the time the sun comes up. The headlines will say, 'The Joker Escaped, But Was Captured Again'. This time he won't laugh himself away from us." That wasn't the most creative title to give a headline, but Gordon wasn't a journalist. He was a cop and he was going to find this mad man! Now, after seeing the carnage, Gordon was resolute and completely awake, and Ramirez could see that.

"I want more than trying: I want results." By this time Gordon had left the cellblock and was in the main office area again. He projected his voice so that the rest of the GCPD could hear. "I want half the SWAT searching, half the SWAT making sure the ferries get to where they're going. I don't want anymore lethal jokes coming from this nutcase. We need him back under lock and key before the sun comes up!"

In the last twenty-four hours most of the people who wanted out of Gotham had gotten out, but some who had learned that the Joker was in captivity again just wanted back to their homes. The last thing that Gordon wanted was another problem with the ferries that would scare the citizens of Gotham away forever.

As people, including Ramirez, rushed about to execute his demands, Gordon decided to put out his hand to stop her. There was something he needed to know.

"Is your mother alright?" Gordon asked, brow furrowed, wondering if Detective Ramirez' mother, who was in the hospital that was blown up yesterday, had gotten onto one of the evacuation school buses before the hour the Joker had given them was up.

She nodded stiffly, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"And what about Dent? Did he hurt you bad? I heard that you were out for a while after he hit you."

"I'm fine," she said. Her face held a type of invisible screen over her thoughts, blocking him from seeing anything. Gordon knew this look from detainees who didn't want to speak or reveal any information. He decided that he would try another time, since she seemed like she wouldn't budge on the matter, and he nodded and walked over to the big window that looked out over the road in front of HQ. Looking through the blinds, he saw the red, white, and blue lights in the dark of the early morning flashing from the patrol cars that were speeding away from the building with their sirens on and loud. Gordon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. This day, which hadn't really started yet, kept getting worse and worse. The sun wasn't even up yet.

When Gordon put his glasses back on, he saw that a familiar black car had pulled up to the building. Mayor Garcia! Gordon thought in a panic. Coming to hear my report on the matter, no doubt. He hurriedly smoothed his hair and straightened his tie in a desperate attempt to make himself look more professional and in control. Damn, he thought. Maybe this day could get worse.

Gordon started to walk over to the stairs that led to the main hall of the building, but he stopped when he remembered the crowd. Gordon sighed again and took out his business cell phone. He had three cell phones: his personal one, his business one, and his secret cell phone that could contact Batman, given to him by the man himself. Hmm, Gordon thought, I might use that later...

Gordon dispatched a quick text to Mayor Garcia: "Use back door. Main hall swamped." He hoped that the mayor would get the message before the news stations got to him. That would just make things worse.

Unfortunately, Mayor Garcia didn't get the message in time and he had to force his way through the crowd. When he finally made it up the stairs, Gordon was waiting for him.

"What the hell's going on?" Mayor Garcia asked Gordon.

"That's what I said," Gordon muttered. It made him think of how new he still felt with the issue. Damn, how quickly this whole affair happened! "The Joker escaped," he said, straightforward. Gordon knew the mayor didn't like it said any other way.

"Escaped?" the mayor said. "You're telling me I'm supposed to tell all of Gotham that possibly the most insane, murderous criminal alive has escaped?"

"We have SWAT teams searching for him and protecting the ferries and the rest of the city. What we can. Our goal is to get him back in our hands by morning."

"Any other help?" Mayor Garcia asked, hinting.

"You mean Batman?" Gordon asked. He didn't want to play guessing games today and he knew that no one but Mayor Garcia was listening. The others that the mayor came with were still standing near the doorframe, out of earshot.

Mayor Garcia looked at him without answering his question. That's Mayor's sign for "yes", Gordon thought. This will be awkward.

"Well, Batman was chased away by us," Gordon said, trying to say "I told you we would need him" as gently as possible. Batman really was Gotham's last and only hope. It seemed that Gordon was the only one who accepted that. "And the Bat-signal was destroyed..." There was no other way to say this. Gotham had made a bad choice by chasing Batman away.

"Gordon, contact him," Mayor Garcia said abruptly.

"How...?" It seemed that Gordon wanted to ask how he would do that with no Bat-signal, but really he wanted to know more about how Mayor Garcia knew he could contact him anyway. But it really wasn't a surprise that the mayor knew. Most people had been suspecting Gordon of vigilante-contact, but they didn't have the proof to bring him down.

"You know how," the mayor said. "I didn't promote you yesterday for no reason. Clean up this mess."

When Mayor Garcia turned away to walk out, he took his phone out of his black coat pocket. Gordon watched as he finally read the message, skirted to the right at the last second, and started walking down the stairs that led to the back door of the building. Gordon shook his head at the minor irony that just occurred and turned away. So much for giving him that message before he talked to me. I guess it doesn't really matter to me now.

Gordon let himself reflect on Mayor Garcia's words. With the Joker out and about, Commissioner Gordon knew that cleaning up the city would be no easy feat.

~/~/~/~/~/~

Gordon walked back into his office to get the black cell phone that Batman had given him once. It could only contact Batman and was used at times when Gordon didn't want to use something as obvious to the people that something was wrong as the Bat-signal. People got distressed. But now, with the Bat-signal destroyed, this cell phone would be perfect for the moment.

Gordon pressed the combination of numbers that would call the vigilante. When he put the phone up to his ear he checked his watch. It was 4:43 A.M.—did Batman ever come out in the daylight? Or was he really like a bat and nocturnal? These were questions that surrounded the awed denizens of Gotham daily. If he was only nocturnal, this would be a problem because the sun was starting to come out and the Joker needed to be captured again and soon. This time they would put him under maximum security and never let him out of at least twenty trusted people's sights.

"Gordon." The voice was low and rough, the voice of Batman.

Gordon got quickly to the point. "The Joker's gone. Escaped. We're doing all we can but he seems to be leading us in circles. We need him back before the sun rises. Otherwise, Gotham will be plunged into chaos yet again. And we all know what that's like."

"It's barely been twenty-four hours since you chased me away. Do you want my help or not?"

Gordon was surprised. Was it just him or did Batman seem a bit emotional? Was that possible? Well, if so, Batman's helped Gordon out so much. Maybe it was time for Gordon to help Batman.

"Since when have you been worried about how we feel? You're a vigilante, for God's sake! Besides, since when was I involved in chasing you away? I was there with my family and Dent! You know that Gotham needs you. Just because we smashed the Bat-signal doesn't mean we smashed crime in all of Gotham! We have to reject you for the public relations. They wouldn't like it if the police department let even one law go unheeded for our benefit. You're the Dark Knight! What had I told Jimmy? Oh, yes, that you are the hero Gotham deserves, the silent guardian, the watchful protector...our Dark Knight! We need you out there!"

There was a pause on the other side of the line, as if to say, "Are you done with your rant yet?" Then Batman spoke:

"It's a good thing I'm already there."

With that, Gordon opened his mouth to ask how he knew about everything to actually be in the action already, but the line went dead.

Damn, he's good.