Synopsis: In the wake of the Batman's sacrifice and defeat of the terrorist Bane, Gotham still reels from instability and uncertainty as Arkham Asylum escapees roam the city. Having left the GCPD and with no sign of Bruce Wayne in over a year, Detective John Blake dedicates himself to running the Thomas and Martha Wayne Home for Children, hoping to give kids like him a better chance at life. But when Commissioner Gordon seeks his help taking down the growing corruption instigated by mob boss Salvatore Moroni, Blake must find the delicate balance between past injustices and the future of Gotham.
To help shoulder the responsibility of caring for Gotham's underprivileged youths, he finds a compassionate soul in Dr. Tessa Fox, Lucius's brilliant daughter, recently returned home from Africa to continue her medical research on bioengineering. While her assistance brings a welcome relief to the overworked Blake, Dr. Fox uncovers more than just medical advances in Gotham's society and soon makes a dangerous breakthrough that could compromise Blake's investigation.
Determined to help Gordon eradicate Moroni's powerful organized crime ring, Blake finds that without Batman, heroes aren't born. They rise.
Salt and sulfur.
The gritty, acrid stench filled his lungs as he crouched low next to the greasy dumpster and counted. Not his heartbeats. Not the seconds as they crept by. But the tide.
He listened to the waves rushing and tumbling over the rocks and up against the concrete pilings of the distant pier. As trained as he was to listen for noise disturbances and hints of criminal activity, he had equally become attuned to the oft overlooked ambient sounds of nature; an owl, the crickets that he could sometimes hear outside the first story library if he left the window open. The wild flutter of wings through the darkness. Night rhythms.
He never noticed their absence in the city, just their strangely reassuring echoes whenever he walked the manor grounds . Such luxuries were foreign to the street-smart John Blake but the longer he lived at the manor, the more layers he began to peel back regarding its former tenant. It was filled with such commotion nowadays with the 14 new occupants of various heights and hormonal rages. It was a whole new level of stress complicating his already complex life. Made sense why guys like Wayne never had any kids.
His left ear crackled to life as the surveillance piece snapped him back to the street-level activity.
"Hayes 52 to 18-0, what's your twenty?"
Blake stifled a yawn before responding.
"18-0 to Hayes, I'm located at the Northeast entrance to the building. Over."
"10-4. Stand-by until we have eyes on-"
A loud crash halted the radio chatter and forced Blake up off his haunches. He peered around the corner and heard various shouts followed by the sounds of doors slamming and a piercing screech of rubber skidding across the pavement.
"52 to all units! We have an unidentified black sedan fleeing the location headed south! Over!"
Blake grabbed the overcoat he was disguised in and hotfooted back to his car. Flinging his gear back, he flipped on the scanner and listened while he waited for his partner, Detective Raphael Diaz, to return to their unmarked car.
"Someone tell Moroni we were coming?" Diaz huffed, clamoring into his seat and buckling his seatbelt.
"Magic 8 ball, who knows?" Blake shrugged, throwing the car into drive. The charger growled in response and roared out into the night.
"A rat probably," Diaz muttered. "Gordon always cranky about who had the department access codes to this mess."
"Chief's been around this town long enough. He's not stupid."
Diaz grimaced and grabbed the radio scanner and responded, giving the direction they were headed.
"Nothing dumber than a thug running straight into a police ambush," Diaz laughed.
"What?" Blake shouted over the heavy hum of the engine's acceleration.
"Months we've been tracking the shipments coming in and out of this warehouse!" Diaz replied. "Gotta be some special kind of stupid to think cops wouldn't be watching this place!"
Blake knew Gordon had weeks of surveillance data on the smuggling crew that had been operating out of the pier. There was always a significant influx of cargo ships and smaller vessels on a daily basis, mostly delivering to the industrial and manufacturing companies that did legitimate business nearby and throughout the Narrows and lower Gotham. While the warehouse itself had been registered under a foreign company, one of the detectives working undercover in a black market ring gained proof of its connection to the Moroni crime ring.
Carmine Falcone had been the #1 for a long time until Batman delivered crucial information and Falcone himself to the DA's office. Falcone and Salvatore "Sal" Moroni had a long beef with each other so it was only a matter of time before the other took advantage of the situation and resurfaced. The only reason Moroni had evaded arrest so long was that he was always managed to be one step ahead of Gordon. It made very little sense for him to slip up now. Unless this wasn't an actual mistake.
Nope. Definitely, not a mistake, Blake thought. He accelerated again before suddenly swinging the car over to the curb.
"What?" Diaz shouted.
Blake didn't answer and instead cut the wheel and turned the car in the opposite direction. He could feel his pulse race as he drove them back towards the pier at breakneck speed. The car screeched down the side alleys and over pot holes and then finally back into the warehouse lot. Slamming on the brakes and shifting to park, Blake threw open his door, car still running.
"Yo! Blake! What th- " Diaz called after him.
He ignored him and raced towards the warehouse. Blake rounded the corner of the building and ran to the entrance where they had heard the commotion earlier. Leaning hard on the locked door, he busted it open with his boot. The warehouse was pitch black and frigid as Blake carefully made his way inside. Drawing his weapon, he shined his small flashlight on the various objects enveloped in the darkness. There were towers of crates and huge shipping containers taking up most of the floor space. Everything was unmarked or missing company logos of any kind but nothing particularly alarming. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a door cracked and a faint but occasional light beaming about.
Blake crept over and looked inside. He spotted someone digging around a floor vault situated next to a tower of hard drives. Slowly, he inched the door open and raised his weapon.
"Gotham PD! Hands where I can see them!"
Startled, the figure reacted quickly, whipped around and fired a shot off just seconds after Blake noticed the gun. He took cover behind some cargo containers before peering around again. The figure had started making a run for the room's only other exit.
"Hey! Hey! Freeze!"
The figure vaulted over a stack of cases and scurried across to the far end of the room and disappeared through the other door.
Blake sped after him, weaving between tall 10-gallon barrels, crates, and stacks of gray metal cases. He had just made it to the threshold when a small object went whizzing a few inches past his face and clattered to the ground. Even though his eyes were still locked on his target, Blake's reflexes made him turn and look.
GRENADE
Blake quickly took a few steps to his left and launched himself through one of the warehouse external windows. Rolling, he scrambled to search for cover just as the loud boom shook the room and sent glass flying. Smoke began to poured out as the facility glowed orange with the growing fire.
Blake groaned and staggered to his feet. He squinted, disoriented by the blast, trying to regain his balance and shake the clogged feeling between his ears.
"Blake! Blake!"
He felt something grab his arm and wrap around his shoulders as he struggled to stand up. Diaz had made it to his side and helped Blake to his feet.
"Hey man, y'alright?"
"Yeah...yeah, I'm good just-" Blake paused, coughing and feeling the dull ache on his left shoulder where he fell. Together he and Diaz watched as flames shoot out from the ground level windows to the warehouse.
Diaz exhaled loudly and shook his head. "Accident or coincidence?" he asked to no one in particular.
"How about...message," Blake replied grimly.
"Ow!"
Blake winced while the scalding hot liquid spilled down his left hand and splashed onto the surrounding coffee cups and sugar packets. Figures. Too early in the morning that he needed the caffeine but too early to take care to not spill said beverage.
"Need a hand?"
Blake looked over at the stack of napkins being held in front of him.
"Oh, thanks man," he answered not bothering to look up, grabbed a few and furiously wiped off his hand and the spots of coffee that had gotten onto his one good tie. Blake sighed and shook his head. "And this is why I don't do 'Dry Clean Only'."
"Don't tell me you miss the police uniform already?"
Blake looked up, now aware of the unmistakable gravely, baritone that had been addressing him.
"Mr. Fox! It's great to see you, sir," he grinned and extended his hand to the tall and slender older gentleman, Lucius Fox, standing just behind him in the queue for the coffee machine.
"Geez, sorry about the mess I made but seems I've forgotten how to perform simple tasks on 3 hours worth of sleep," Blake said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair and gesturing to the splatter.
Lucius held up a hand. "You're not the first one around here to be outfoxed by these shiny contraptions we call modern conveniences. Although nothing I've ever designed was this complicated."
Lucius graciously helped Blake wipe up the remaining liquid. "Then again maybe we just like trying to impress people with flashy objects once in awhile. Always with the theatrics, " he added winking.
Blake smiled and threw away the soiled napkins into a nearby bin. "Gotta keep up with the competition, I guess right? Wayne Enterprises can't exactly have a $29.95 coffee maker in its reception area and then turn around and try to sell their clients billion-dollar equipment."
Lucius gave an amused chuckle then nodded. "I'll be sure to remind the accounting department of that." He looked Blake over with his intelligent brown eyes. "3 hours of sleep, huh? I'd ask you where the party was but that would mean you have a proper social life."
Blake laughed and took a sip of his coffee.
"Kid like me from the Narrows? Nah, not much success in that department. Just work, actually. Late nights. Long hours. Bad leftovers."
Lucius pursed his lips. "Sounds familiar."
Blake watched as Lucius, unlike himself, effortlessly operated the coffee maker and received a neatly made, steaming cup of espresso. "So what has Gotham's finest here in our neck of the woods so early? Should I be worried?" Lucius said, eyes twinkling.
Blake downed the last drops of his beverage.
"I'm here about my other day job, actually. Wayne & Co. says I gotta appear in person whenever I need beg for money... so here I am," Blake said, waving his hands for effect. "The Home is looking to accept more children but it's not going to be easy."
"Didn't the trust mandate a set amount and periodic increases? They shouldn't be giving you any trouble. I can talk to the Board about expanding the fund."
"No- no it's nothing like that," Blake said. "We're losing two staff members next week. We have some temps that are going to replace them but these kids need a stable influence. Plus with Gordon having me on this huge case..." Blake trailed off, remembering that even though Lucius Fox was a close friend, he was still one of the most senior Wayne employees. Blake wanted to be honest but the Wayne Home meant a lot to him and didn't want to start sounding like he was getting overwhelmed or on the verge of quitting.
"I could use another full time to supervise everything but that's not exactly in the budget right now. Hoping I can get another salary approved," Blake added.
Fox seemed to consider this for a moment before taking another sip of his espresso.
"You know what, I think I have just the right person for you."
Blake's eyebrows shot up. "Oh yeah?"
"My daughter. Just got back from a summer working at a medical clinic in Africa. I think she's exactly what you're looking for." Fox smiled and reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He started scrolling and then began tapping away.
Blake straightened up, feeling like a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. So far the job applicants had been less than stellar but Lucius Fox's own daughter was probably the best recommendation they were ever going to get.
"Great. Can you give her my number? Mrs. Young, the housekeeper has been interviewing people so-"
"No need," Fox interjected. "I'll tell her to stop by this afternoon and talk with you about it. She can start tomorrow."
"Uh..ok, but I mean, she doesn't have to do it. We probably can't pay her a lot. Does she even like kids?"
Fox waved him off. "You can stop interviewing people. She'll do it. I'll have my secretary send over the salary request to our Corporate Giving Department," Fox added, patting Blake on the back. "I think having a doctor on staff is just what those young people need."
Blake smiled and shook Fox's hand. "Thank you, sir. I don't know what I would do if you weren't such a fan of Mr. Wayne because I know I sure wouldn't help a guy like me out as much as you have. I'll go and get the ball rolling on everything back at Wayne Manor," he said, turning to leave.
"Oh and Detective Blake?"
Blake turned around.
"Try not to worry about . I'm sure he's very proud of the work you're doing."
Blake sighed. "Mr. Pennyworth gets a newsletter just like every other board member. Somehow I think we're the last thing on his mind as he sips tea and wears cardigans back in London."
"I wasn't talking about Alfred, Detective."
With the smallest of smiles, Fox turned on his heel and headed back towards the entrance. "Go home and take a nap, son," he called over his shoulder. "You look like death warmed over."