"Seeds of War"
Part 1 of 3
by Steave
Bruce tried to keep himself awake as Mr. Williams continued with his speech. He had been gone for seven years, and in instances like this, he wished he could've extended it an extra seven years.
It was a Wayne Enterprises board meeting, the first that Bruce had ever actually attended, and he was on the verge of sleep. He had been chewing on his pencil, tussling his blonde hair, and doing all kinds of mannerisms one does when they are about to collapse due to boredom and tiredness.
He had listened intently at the beginning of the meeting, especially at the mention that the head of the Applied Sciences Department had recently resigned and that the company needed someone to run it. Bruce would've volunteered, until he remembered that he owned the company. A young African-American man by the name of Lucius Fox said that he would gladly take over the department.
After that decision, Bruce found it hard to keep himself awake, exhaustion from his previous escapades with the Red Hood were finally catching up with him. He felt that he would be able to sleep soundly however, what with Falcone's daughter returned to him and Maroni behind bars.
Then, the unthinkable happened. A young man in a dark blue three-piece suit walked in. He was young, blonde, and Bruce had seen him before. It was Roman Falcone, the son of Gotham's biggest crime lord.
"Bruce? Is that you?"
Roman walked around the elongated table to the head where Bruce had been residing.
"Aahh, Roman! It is a pleasure to see you."
Bruce extended his hand of friendship, but Roman walked on past it and gave Bruce an enormous embrace. Bruce was taken aback by Roman's affection. It's true that they had been friends, but Bruce had never felt this close to Roman.
"How long has it been Bruce . . ?"
"It's been seven years Roman."
"It's been a long seven years Bruce."
One of the board members let out an interrupting cough.
"Oh, uhm, sorry Roman. But . . . we are in the middle of the meeting."
"Yes, I know Bruce, that's why I've come here."
Bruce raised an eyebrow and gave Roman a peculiar look.
"I've come to discuss my father's business with you. Falcone Imports only does business with the best, and we do indeed make billions of dollars every year. We would like your Enterprise to help us."
Bruce immediately felt uneasy, "And how would we do that Roman?"
"Ah Bruce, we know your company owns many of Gotham's National Banks. We would like to launder our money through those banks."
"Our banks?"
"Yes, if that is alright with you of course Bruce."
Bruce stood, unsure of his answer . . . Falcone wanted to launder his dirty money through Bruce. It would poison the very core of Wayne Enterprises. He couldn't let this happen.
--
Sal sat in his cell, stewing over what had happened in the past few days.
This was goddamn rediculous. An ex-employee of his down at AXIS Chemicals, decided to put on a red cape and hood and go terrorizing his banks. This, made it look like his competitor for Head Crimelord of Gotham City, Carmine Falcone, had been responsible. Then, Joe kidnaps Selina Falcone, making it seem that Maroni had done it.
Then, he gets a visit from the Batman, and as he's spilling his guts to the damn . . . thing, it has a recorder on it, and he turns the tape over to the police. Finally, after being set up by everyone imaginable, he got arrested by that no good Jim Gordon.
He had been set up, and who had to pay for it? Sal.
That rotten District Attorney Harvey Dent didn't waste any time in getting Sal in there either. He had been looking for any excuse to put Sal in the slammer since he first got that dumb District Attorney gig. Sal had vowed that one day, he would get even with Dent. And he couldn't wait for that day.
And for once, Sal didn't know how to get out of this one. They had sentenced him to death for murder, and about every other charge imaginable. He would have to wait it out, and hope some miracle would occur. The lights started to flicker, and finally went out momentarily. They came back on soon, however.
Then they went out again, but this time, they stayed out. The inmates started hootin' and hollerin', making as much racket as possible about how the lights were out.
"'Ey, shut your traps willya? They'll come on in a second."
Maroni's shout made the other inmates' voices stop and for a split second, there was a dead silence. But then, something unexpected happened. Someone laughed. But we're not talking about a giggle or even a laugh you give at some movie theatre. No, this . . . was the laugh of a crazy man. One that made your blood run cold, and sent a shiver down your spine.
The laugh didn't stop . . . until the lights came on. Sal had to get outta here.
--
"I don't think Bruce is gonna go for it pop."
Roman, Carmine, and Selina were sitting at the dining table, eating an exquisite home-made Italian meal. Carmine's food delighted everyone, including himself.
"He has to Roman. An offer like that . . . who can refuse it?"
"Listen, dad, everyone knows that it's dirty money."
"Which is exactly why we need Wayne Enterprises. Look, if we launder our money through them, our money will become clean again. And if the police decide to trace it, it'll land at Wayne Enterprises. They'll be dead fish in the water, not us. And who's gonna wanna bring down Wayne Enterprises? Especially with them doing business with the other half of Gotham that we don't do business with. If the police brought them down . . . Gotham would go into a depression. No one wants that."
"I still don't think he'll go for it."
"Look, we got it all under control, if he don't go for it . . . we'll make him go for it."
"But dad," Selina said, entering the conversation, "Bruce is a good friend of mine, at least he was. If you can't get through to him with Roman . . . send me. I don't want you to hurt him. He's been through enough as it is."
Roman and Carmine sat silent for a few seconds, then Carmine started again.
"Alright sweetie, but if you're 'negotions' don't work . . . you know what we'll do."
"Yes pa."
The Falcone's sat in silence for the remainder of the meal.
--
"I don't care how much money Falcone Imports is pulling in. We will NOT do business with them."
Bruce could feel his face burning. He had slept well, and didn't even go out on patrol. Alfred still was suggesting that he let his wounds heal and rest before he went out again. Crime never sleeps, but he felt that at least for now, it did.
He came to the conference regarding the Falcone Imports deal, to find that a young man named Richard Dillier had seemed to convince everyone on the board that this was a great idea. Bruce, was outraged.
"Listen Bruce, we all know the Falcone's family history, but lets face it. This could be the breakthrough deal we've been waiting for."
"Richard, we have enough money to last us four centuries, probably more. I will not let Wayne Enterprises become corrupt with the stench of Falcone's money."
"Bruce, we've already voted, we'll sign the papers tomorrow."
Bruce was shocked, and he stormed out of the room. He couldn't let this happen.
--
It was a cold September night, and Richard was barely managing. He had decided to walk, he needed the exercise. He didn't, however, check a nearby thermometer to see just how cold it was outside.
Just when he thought matters couldn't get any worse, he heard a voice in a nearby alley.
"You!"
Richard froze, the voice was seemed venomous, like a snake's.
"Come here!"
Richard did all he could, and followed the voice into the alley. He was surrounded in darkness, and he couldn't even tell what was up and what was down.
"You work for Wayne Enterprises?"
"Y-y-yes-s-s."
"You must have a lot of money then huh."
Richard didn't answer this last remark.
"You know, I have gifts for people like you."
"Wha --"
Richard didn't get a chance to finish. A knife had been stabbed underneath his jaw, through his mouth, and into his brain. Everything went white, and his life was over.
The man took off his black sweater he had been wearing, revealing his scarred chest and abdomen. The scars were all arranged in tally marks. Taking the knife from Richard's jaw, he added another tally to his collection and placed another one on Richard's head.
After the ritual, he threw Richard's body back into the street and ran for it. A woman screamed. The sirens followed.
