A/N: I received a review on this story stating that women could not be snipers. Would this be based on real life I would say this is true. Since, this is a fanfiction I do not feel entitled to hold to the truths that we unfortunately live by. If you don't like my stories please don't leave comments, just leave. Thank you.

Sorry to all my loyal readers for the delay. I'm much happier with this chapter! Hope it makes you guys just as happy! :) Thank you all!

Chapter One Warrior

~As a child you would wait~

~And watch from far away.~

~But you always knew that you'd be the one~

~That worked while they all play.~

The commanding officer of the police academy was giving a generic speech about how each officer on the stage had potential to make a difference. Looking about the stage now, my only thoughts are of my previous platoon. Moments later we're clapping and shaking hands after having been sworn in. We leave the stage and I watch as everyone finds their families heading off to the graduation party.

"Officer Detwiler?" I turn to see two people walking toward me. An older man is in the lead, with his longer graying hair being tousled by the wind. The sky above held a crystal clear blue around a bright scolding sun.

Behind the older man was a young man who was a tall, broad shouldered man with dark hair and hazel eyes. The man's posture is one that demands respect and speaks of power.

"Andrea Detwiler, We meet at last!" The older man chimes as he takes my hand shaking it in greeting. "I'm Commissioner James Gordon from Gotham City Police Department." He sounds proud, like I should know what he's talking about.

Smiling I shrug and look over the man's shoulder. "What can I do for you?" I ask wanting to get to the graduation party Bryant was throwing at his place.

Gordon raises an eyebrow glancing over his shoulder. When his eyes turn back to me there is amusement behind them. "I'd like to offer you a job with our Major Crimes unit. We could use someone of your caliber in Gotham."

My eyes are glued to the older man before me. "I've already taken an offer from NYPD.
I smile a soft kind smile. "Thank you though." Turning away from them the tall man in the back finally speaks up.

"Miss," His voice is deep and I fight back the shivers that threaten to course through my body. Turning back around to face him, he says boldly "Whatever they're paying you we can double it."

Raising my eyebrows my gaze flickers over to the commissioner, who seems just as surprised as I am. "And who exactly are you to be making such wild promises?"

The man smiles a very cool and cocky smile, "I'm a contributor to the Gotham Police Department, and I'm willing to foot the bill."

Pursing my lips into a small thin line, I hold the man's gaze almost angrily. "Why should I want to work for a Police Department that can't afford me?" I shoot back folding my arms over my chest defiantly.

There's a spark behind the man's eyes that causes an uncontrollable shiver to rip through me. "I'll pay for your move and find you a nice place to live."

"So, you think making me sound like a hooker is the best way to go about this?" The anger bubbles up in my chest and I fight it back down.

Bruce looks a little stunned for just a moment and then shakes his head calmly. "Gordon has taken an interest in you, and if Gordon thinks you would be good for my city, then so do I."

"Your city?" I ask the question without thinking raising my eyebrows.

He shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets smoothly, "The rich should be more responsible for what happens where they live. I take pride in Gotham."

Nodding I extend my hand to him, "Andrea Detwiler," I introduce gently.

The man grins taking my hand in his own, "Bruce Wayne."

Sand everywhere, my eyes, my hair, and even in my camies. Sighing I sit up from my bunk and look at the two men I call my bunk mates. "Come on guys, let's do something!" I jump up from the bunk and grab the football off the footlocker at the end of Mike's bunk.

Mike scowls over the letter from his wife, "Like what?" Mike's wife is now a little less than a month from having her first baby. This fact has been riding Mike making him irritable.

Shrugging I juggle the ball in my hands, "Play a couple downs of football, create new torture tactics, anything! I can't stand just sitting her all day I'm going nuts!" Pacing the tent anxiously I look from one man to the other. "Come one guys please!"

Bill chuckles from his bunk watching me pace. "I'm sick of football, and besides that's what this time is for. Doing NOTHING!" He exaggerates as he lays back folding his hands lazily behind his head.

Sighing my eyes flicker around the tent. It's all green. From the shades, to the blankets and even the pillow covers are green against the tan of the sand. Everything is covered with tan camouflage netting to match the sands around us. Groaning in frustration I toss myself back on the empty bunk, "Come on guys, do this for me. You know we aren't to go anywhere without out battle buddies."

"Yeah, but football…." Mike Sighs.

Turning on Mike I glare at him as he continues reading his letter. "Mother Fucker! I went to that weak ass fucking strip club for you!" Mike winces when I bring that up. It was a sworn secret between the three of us. Something I was able to use against him.

Sighing heavily Mike puts down the letter smiling, "Now you're asking for an ass whoopin'!"

Billy groans as he clambers from the bunk, "Guess it's game on."

Two days later our platoon is on patrol in a little village in the middle of Bum-Fuck-Egypt. The convoy is moving through the sand at a break neck speed. It was my turn to drive so the two men got to sit back and relax for a little while.

"Dude she's not even fucking hot." Bill shoots back in retorted disgust.

"Yeah well, the other option is nasty and gross." Mike declares angrily in defense. Shaking my head at the two men, I sit up a little straighter watching them for a moment in the mirror. Bill is a tall broad man with bright red hair and emerald green eyes. His accent is thick and purely Irish.

Mike is a shorter man but no less broad than Bill, but he is dark haired, dark eyed, and a pure American Mut. Or so he says. His voice is much deeper than Bill's and has all the right slurs to make is Manhattan.

Raising an eyebrow I smirk slightly. "The same Bruce Wayne that burnt down his manor?"

Bruce grins sheepishly, "That's me."

"That's Gotham! You guys had the Joker a few years ago right?" I ask feeling excitement bubble up inside me. Gotham had a higher crime rate than even New York City. "When can I start?" I ask looking back at Gordon.

Gordon is grinning widely now crossing his arms over his chest. "How about a month from now?"

Shaking my head I look over at Bruce smirking, "Can you get an apartment in a week?"

Smiling Bruce nods. "I'll have a moving company at your place by the end of the week." He says taking my hand in his own one more time shaking it gently. "It was very nice to see you."

With that the man turns heading back to the car where another man was opening the back door for him. Gordon cleared his throat grabbing my attention. "Are you sure you want to do everything this suddenly?" His eyes are bright with concern.

Smiling I nod and shake the older man's hand. "I'll be there."

They say once a Marine always a Marine, I never realized how true it was till I had become one. At the age of 18, I gave up everything I knew and picked up a gun. Having been disowned by my father the Corps quickly became my family.

In boot camp I made some very good memories with some of the best people I could ever know. After boot camp, my platoon was sent right over into hell. We were sent to the active war zone in the Middle East in an attempt to hold off the enemy forces from advancing too far too fast.

Just as I'm about to add in my opinion the radio crackles and comes to life with chatter. "All units, be advised. Be on the lookout for enemy insurgents, we've received word from HQ they've been planting land mines on this stretch…" It was too late.

The radio gives off an eerie noise as the lead truck is launched sky high. The second hummer shortly follows suit. Gasping I slam on the breaks and veer off the road yanking the vehicle into park. Unhooking my holster I clamber from the vehicle screaming into my boone mic. I can hear the loud tink of bullets hitting the hummer. I follow the line of fire, but before I can make a move Bill flies back landing prone on the ground. Launching three rounds I take down two men and hand Bill my gun. He provides cover as I grab him by the collar and pull him behind the hummer.

We're cut off and surrounded from the rest of the convoy. My heart is hammering inside my chest. His shoulder is bleeding but otherwise he is ok.

"What the fuck we gonna do?" Mike growls as a bullet flies past his head.

"I don't know man." I lean back against the hummer and check the amount of amo in my clip. "We gotta do something. We can't just sit here. Can you walk?"

Bill nods, standing gingerly from the ground using the Hummer for support. "I'm hurt, I ain't dead."

Nodding I'm about to lead the charge when the Hummer behind us explodes sending the three of us flying at least 10 feet away.

Darkness surrounds me when I next open my eyes. I'm confused and scared for my platoon. I move about the darkness till I find the bars of the cage. Caught. Fuck me.

"Captain!" I can hear Bill call from behind me in the cell. Turning, I find him in a corner with a group of soldiers. I recognize none of their faces, but all greet me with respect as I move to kneel beside Bill.

"Hey you. How you holding up?" He groans as I examine each wound intently.

"I've been better. I'm sure my leg is broken." He says adjusting himself against the wall.

He's right. The left femur is broken which means he could be bleeding internally. "Where's Mike?" Is he ok?" Sitting up I look around the small damp cell which held about 16 people right now.

"He didn't make it." Bill says somberly.

My eyes seek his through the darkness to find the other man's gaze. Frowning, I nod and stand taking in out surroundings.

"What's the plan Captain?" an unfamiliar voice inquires behind me. Before I can answer though, three men come through the door at the front of the room. In three steps they have me pulled from the cage.

My face is pressed firmly against the cold steel bars. The Marines rush the cage angrily. "If you give us the location of your sniper, she'll live."

"Don't you give them shit!" I growl as I'm pressed harder into the bars of the cage. Cold sharp steel is pressed firmly against my throat. The blade is short but none the less sharp.

"Captain!" One of the Marine's gasp as he steps from the back of the group.

The men pull me away from the bars, just so that they can slam me back into them again. I can feel my lip split and a bump forms on my forehead above my left brow. This causes a grunt to escape my lips but I quickly silence myself. The men before me stand there tight jawed as they watch the scene prevail before them.

"No one will speak to save her?" The broken English of the leader makes my skin crawl. When a long moment passes and no one speaks up I'm shoved away from the bars, "Fine, bind her and stake her to the ground."

My heart is hammering in my chest, I renew my struggles. Forcing my head back quickly, the back of my skull connects with a nose.

The next thing I know each wrist and ankle us bound in rope and the rope is then tied to a stake. Once the stakes are drove into the ground spread eagle. Two men stand at my head while the leader stands between my legs his hand on his belt grinning down at me.

"Captain!" Billy's voice cries from the cage. This causes the leader to turn and address the troops one more time.

"You all have the means to stop this." He explains walking toward the cage. "Tell us, where the Lawton is."

"Don't tell him shit!" I scream from the ground struggling violently against my bonds. This earns me a kick to the head from the right and some muttering in a different language.

"If we do not get what we require, we'll take turns…." He pauses as he turns to look at me. Bile rises up in the back of my throat. "Well, it's been a long while since my men have had access to the company of beautiful woman."

"Captain, I'm gonna tell him!" One man yells.

Angrily I raise my head to gaze at him. "You say anything and you'll be tried for treason! Fuck this guy! He'll burn in hell before we talk!"

My men kept quiet that night, which led to my merciless rape. Once it had finished I was barely conscious. Sitting in the in the metal folding chair now in a different set of blues, my hand flew to my stomach and the scar that had been left there.