The Maestro's 9th Symphony
The Maestro's 9th Symphony
Inaudible to average person passing by, there were noises eminating from the Docks in Downtown Gotham. Seldom did anyone hear any noises originating from the Docks passed six o' clock when all the employees had dashed out of there, eagerly waiting to return to their families. No, today was different, today the workers had left, but lights still remained in the abandon warehouse adjacent to the ocean. Little did the people of Gotham know that inside the warehouse were some of the most dangerous men Gotham had ever witnessed?
Inside, there were at least fifty men, all of whom tried to move around without making as much as a sound. But once in a while some baboon broke something, or coughed a little too loudly, and immediately was met by the deathly stare of the other men. Now all these men were all circled around one central point, a man in a very expensive Italian leather suit. No man dared make eye contact with him, for fear of this man. He was not a great physical specimen by any means; he was scrawny to describe him as best. His head consisted of long, dirty blonde hair that curled up at the ends, and a pair of hazel eyes, that adapted to its environment. At most he was five feet seven inches, most of the men at the warehouse towered over him, and yet this small man was the most feared, this man was the leader of the rest of the baboons. It seemed as though he was waiting impatiently, waiting for someone to arrive, waiting for someone to deliver to him news.
"Listen, boss, this weasel ain't coming, why we wasting time here, lets get out of hear," suddenly spoke one of the foolish baboons.
"Boys, tell this fool what we do to those who dare question me," replied the man in the white leather suit.
The remaining baboons all began cornering the foolish one, who had now dropped to his knees, and began to cower.
"Hey, Mikey, leave him alone. We've all had a tough day it isn't fair to take it out on him. That guy will come, and if not we will just have to find him and kill him, that's it," said a man not taking part in the assault. This man looked as though he was taking a nap on a crate in the warehouse, but he was wide awake. He shot up, and motioned to the baboons to let the man on the floor be.
"Alright, your right Freddie, lay off him, all of you," the man in the white leather suit responded. It seemed as though he realized his mistake, and was quick to correct it. For a few more minutes silence reigned over the entire warehouse and the docks, when in the distance a faint scurrying of feet could be heard.
"He's here, men get in your spots. I don't want you to scare him off, that's my job," replied the man in the white suit.
The warehouse door screeched open, so loud it could have awoken nearly half of Gotham. A short, stocky man approached the man in the white leather suit. His head pointed down, trying to avoid eye contact with every man. He dragged his feat, leaving a trail of mud behind him. He was a middle-aged man, and was beginning to lose his hair. He wore lopsided glasses, and muttered something under his breath; some thought it to be a prayer.
"So, Arnie, is the plan set," asked the man in the white leather suit.
"Yeah, I did everything you told me, but Maestro, I don't know about this," he stuttered.
"Listen, we're all friends here, call me Mikey, all my friends do," Mikey replied smiling.
"The Bat thinks the drop off is going to be at the Gotham train station tomorrow, at midnight. The police think the same. They police are going to be backing The Bat up, the whole police force is going to be there," replied Arnie timidly.
"Good, everything is going by plan. Amazing, everything is finally falling into place. Tomorrow night, The Bat and Gotham's finest will be at the train station tomorrow thinking the drop off will be there, when in reality it will be right, on this very pier," The Maestro roared. "And when it's over, I will finally be the supreme drug overlord of Gotham. Twelve years of living in the underworld, twelve years of working for scum, and now The Maestro will have control of all of Gotham"
The bat cave was almost empty, except for that one soul who continued to linger around. Bruce Wayne sat and stared at his computer. He was in his Batman costume, and thinking extensively about something. His butler, Alfred Pennyworth, slowly crept down the stairs, trying not to bother his surrogate son.
"I assume the man on the screen is your next case. Who is he?" question Alfred.
"That Alfred, that is Michael Delarinio also known as The Maestro. He's just a few more drug deals away from controlling The Gotham underground drug trade. There is supposed to be a drop off tomorrow at the station, as I'm told, but I feel funny about it," responded Bruce Wayne.
"What do you mean, sir? That someone is setting this up and the drop off is not at the station," Alfred asked.
"There are just too many whispers. It's like someone planted this story, and spread throughout Gotham's underground world. They want to make sure myself and the police go to the station tomorrow. Personally Alfred, I think it is a trap. But I don't want to be wrong. I have one day to figure out what's really going on with The Maestro. I'm heading to speak with Jim, I'll talk to you later Alfred," stated Bruce Wayne. He ran over to his bat-mobile, leapt in, and sped away.
"Take care, sir," Alfred replied. He walked back upstairs and shut the lights, hoping Bruce would come hope safe.