Author's Note: Fans of Genesis and the series of Batman stories that myself, Anonymous Void, and ShadowMajin, here it is, the follow-up. We return to the streets of Gotham at last with a new plot and all the history that started with The Ninth Circle and onwards. Yes, this is being posted from my account and not ShadowMajin's. That was his decision, especially since the plot for this fifth story is kinda like my brainchild here. He definitely worked as hard on it as I have. If you want to get up to speed, go to SM's account. If you are caught up, then sit back and enjoy the ride.

Disclaimer: We do not own Batman

Kick to the Face

The SUV pulled into the parking garage, escaping the cold streets of Gotham City as it sought shelter. The heater was set on high to protect against the chilly weather, however that was not the only heat in the vehicle.

Within the transport were several men, all masked and packing heat in the form of shotguns, pistols, and one automatic. One could make the joke that this was what they wore to grab groceries, but the true objective was something much more valuable.

The garage they had pulled into happened to be placed next to a diamond exchange. Earlier that day, a miscellaneous armor truck had pulled in to drop off a pricy shipment of some very cold stones. The leader of this group had been planning for this day for some time, watching the exchange like a hawk, studying the routine of this place for several weeks. He knew the ins and outs, knew about the security system, and more importantly knew how to bust into it.

The only problem was that he wouldn't be able to pull it off by himself. That was why he had all the muscle here. Well, not entirely muscle. Needed a few couple guys to hack into the systems and get to places he couldn't.

He had ambition, certainly, but ambition wasn't going to get you into a diamond exchange.

"Ready to do a little shopping, boys?" the leader asked as he checked his pistol, making sure it was locked and loaded.

His reply came in the sound of several clicks. Safeties were off.

"Remember, our hacker, Jameson, needs to break the code to get in. That's twenty seconds. Our man on the roof will disable the security, but that will give us a small window to get to the vault. We'll have two minutes before he cuts power entirely so I hope none of you are afraid of the dark."

"We got it," a man in the back grunted.

"This is the payday. All goes well and we'll be living like fucking kings," the leader reminded them.

"Shut the fuck up and lets get this over with," a second man spat out.

Rolling his eyes, the leader gave the order. The SUV's doors were shoved open on all sides, the group spilling out as they headed towards the little known back entrance to the exchange. Told you the leader of this gang had been watching this place. It had been through this door that the diamonds had been brought in, which meant that the safe couldn't be too far from it.

Jameson, or the code name the leader had insisted on, was the first to reach the door, pulling out a gadget that the leader did not know much about. All he knew was that once it was on the keypad, it was going to open the door. So long as it did what it was supposed to do, the leader didn't give a shit what it was. This was the pay off, what he had been planning for.

"Twenty seconds," Jameson hissed, prompting the leader to look at his watch, timing them.

When the ten second mark had passed, the leader was feeling more and more pumped. Just ten more seconds, ten more little seconds, and they were-

There was the cocking of a gun at the fifteen second mark. Though peeved, the leader decided to ignore it. Now was not the time to be nitpicking. If someone forgot to check their weapon, at least it was ready now.

"Who the fuck?" one of his men spoke. That was all the warning the leader had before a chunk of concrete beside his head exploded from a shotgun blast.

He was falling to the ground, frantically looking around until he spotted a figure covered in darkness. Outside of shape, he couldn't tell who or what that was, but then he spotted twin peaks on what looked like a head. No way, it couldn't…

The figure fell back as one of his men returned fired, gun flashes lighting up the garage for an instant. For that short period of time, the figure in darkness was revealed to be a man in a dark-colored ensemble that was supposed to look like armor. It was hard to tell from this distance, but the leader could have sworn that the armor looked plastic.

More gunshots from the right alerted to the men that they had more company than one intruder. These gunshots, though, were accompanied by the headlights of a pickup flashing on, revealing a group of gun-wielding Batmen.

"We got you surrounded!" one of the Batmen shouted.

"You've got to be fucking-" the leader began to say, but he was interrupted by his men returning fire. See, this was a problem with hired muscle. They always acted first and thought second.

None of that changed the fact that he was out in the open where he would be easily sniped if he didn't do anything about it.

"Take cover!" he roared, scrambling to one of the nearest pillars that supported the upper floors of the garage. Bullets struck the concrete floor around him as he made his dash, but he reached safety without being scratched. Okay, time to fill these assholes up with some lead. No one botched his score!

Waiting a few seconds, he leaned out from behind the pillar, and fired a couple shots before pulling back. The return fire was predictable, pieces of concrete shattering off. He waited until the count of ten before returning his own fire, downing one of the Batmen in the process.

The hell was happening to this city when grown men began dressing up in stupid bat costumes...

Say what he wanted, at least the boys he picked up for this gig knew what to do in a gunfight. He hadn't lost any yet as they had taken cover like he had. Oh wait, looked like Jameson was hit. Shit! He needed him!

God damn it, they were over the two minute limit too.

This was supposed to be his night, damn it! His night! The night where he turned things all around with a huge score! But no, those bastards in the bat costumes had to screw that up.

In rage, he fired off an entire clip from his gun, taking out one of the headlights along with one of the men firing at him. Spent, he was back to taking cover, releasing the empty clip and replacing it with a full one. Cocking it to fill the chamber with a round, he readied himself for another shot when something caught his eye.

From his position, he had a view of the city outside of the garage. It wasn't the view of a building that had grabbed his attention; more like something moving against it. It was small, at least from this distance, and blending in a bit with the night. Whatever, it couldn't be important.

At least, that was what he thought until whatever it was starting to become bigger very fast. He heard an odd fluttering sound right before the bottom of two boots smashed into his face.

One down.

Too many bullets flying around. Time to take control of this.

Batman pulled out a grappling gun and stepped out from the cover provided by the garage's supports. It took less than a second to aim and fire, the grappling hook striking the weapon held in one of the costumed men's hands. Swinging his arm, the grapple followed suit until he struck another costumed man's leg.

Retract.

The man in question was pulled off his feet, and dragged at an accelerated rate against the garage floor, giving a scream as he did so. The screaming ended when a well-placed fist rammed into his head.

Element of surprise gone, he was acting before the armed men could figure out what was happening. He threw out a canister of tear gas to block out the gunmen's sight as well as to provide him cover. Bat-shaped shuriken sliced through the air, cries of pain shouting out while Batman leaped at one of the costumed men. A tackle took him down, followed by a blow to the face, knocking the man's head into the pavement, and effectively knocking him out.

He leapt towards the nearest costumed man, rolling against the garage floor. Pushing up with his legs, he grabbed hold of the man's shotgun and rammed it into his face, another one down.

Yanking the shotgun out of the unconscious' man's hands, he threw it as a projectile into the next costumed man, getting him in the head. With him dazed, it was easy to finish him off, and have him going to join his comrades.

From the corner of his lensed eye, he spotted one of the masked men stumble away from the mist of tear gas, pulling at his mask to try and wipe at his eyes. Batman sprinted at his next target, smashing the heel of his palm into the man's nose. He kicked the man's legs out from under him, then brought the heel of his other palm down into his chest, slamming him down onto the floor.

Next target; this one was crouched on the floor, head bent and unarmed. He rushed to take this one down with a kick only to be surprised when the man, still crouched, bent back and caught his foot. In response, Batman brought his hands on the man's shoulders followed by his knee into the man's face.

He was pulled as the man felled back, but the Batman went into a roll to put some distance between them. Who was next?

A bullet struck his shoulder, jerking his attention at a masked man pressed up against the building, wounded from a gunshot. Pulling out a small device from his belt, a press of a button fired a charge at the wounded man, effectively tasing him.

A blow to the head made him stumble to a side, but he was quick to recover, blocking the following fist from striking him. He swung a blow at his attacker, getting him in the face. Unlike the other men here, this one was able to take the blow. Bringing a leg between them, the man shoved Batman away with his foot, taking a step back while pulling out a military-grade knife out.

Military, hmm? Good.

The man charged at him, slicing his blade at the vigilante with deadly intent. Batman dodged the first, the second, and third strikes, reading the man's movements as he devised a counter. As the man tried for a fourth strike, Batman caught him by his wrist and twisted. With his other hand, he uppercutted the man's elbow, a sharp snap echoing in the garage as the man cried out.

Still holding the wrist, Batman grabbed the man's upper arm, and pulled, throwing the man over his shoulder and onto the floor. A stomp on his face took the assailant out once and for all.

By now the tear gas was dissipating, revealing two more masked men. One was still under the influence of the gas while the other was aiming right at him. He took evasive action, rolling to the side as bullets struck where he had been. Another bat-shaped shuriken provided enough of a distraction that Batman was able to charge his armed opponent.

A blow to the throat, a knee to the stomach, and one more to the head finished this one off. Now it was just him and one lonely gunman. A tackle, a punch, and that was over with. With all the threats neutralized, it was just him and a group of unconscious men.

"You done giving those men a concussion?" a feminine voice said in his ear, sounding amused. "Or do you still need to work out some more aggression?"

"You have given the police the tip, right?" he asked in reply, scanning his surroundings in case there was someone he missed.

"Did it while you were giving those bad, bad men concussions. Now what?"

"Anything on the scanner?" He bent down next to one of the unconscious men, checking for any sort of identification. He wanted to know who these men were and what they were doing.

"A couple Breaking and Enterings across town, but your GCPD friends are on it. Umm, oh hey, a silent alarm just went off...right here. Five minutes ago. Nope, it's quiet now."

Already had taken care of him. He took a closer look at one of the weapons used by the lot. This was not good; that was a military-grade semi-automatic. What was quickly looking like a common thug doing with something like that?

"Search for any seizures of military equipment in the last six months."

"On it."

"Also, I'm uploading whatever information I've found on these perpetrators. See what you can find on them." Next were the other costumed men, though vigilante may be stretching it. You are gone for three years, and someone tries to pick up where you left off. He could have envisioned a better legacy than this.

A bunch of middle-aged men with gun fetishes and hockey pads were not that.

"So, when do I get to come out and play in your sandbox?" the woman asked. "As much as your cave is nice, I do like seeing the sights."

"Once I am able to modify the computer to receive information from out here. I need it to be ready to collect and analyze data without anyone being in the cave." There was no need to say who usually was responsible for that.

"You know, when you asked me those questions-Can you stop a bullet in midair" she mocked, "-I kinda got what you were getting at. Thing is, now I can and I can even do it before the bullet even leaves the barrel. A girl doesn't like being locked away because the guy's family might not like her, if you catch my drift."

"I'm a bit short-handed, Zatanna," he replied, restraining his unconscious brood of copycats. It was a long story as to how his old childhood was inside his cave, and why she was now speaking to him through an earpiece in his cowl. Suffice to say, she was helping him out as he got back on his feet, though she had a few new tricks up her sleeves than she did last time. "You'll get your chance, once Wayne Enterprises delivers on the necessary equipment. We should be getting that in in the next two to three days."

"You talking normal days or business days, because if it's the second one, I'm not gonna be happy about it."

"Normal days. Some of this equipment is off the books." Less said, the better. Though the "bat computer" was one of the most advanced supercomputers on the planet, three years was a long time, and technology became obsolete in less than a month. The computer needed a massive update, and upgrade, if it were to continue serving him.

"Whatever you say Bruce, but I am getting out of this hole in the ground. You keep me locked up here and one day you'll be pulling out flowers from that bat-belt of yours."

"Noted. Until then, find where these guns came from." He located the serial number on one of the pistols, recording it onto the video feed through his eye lens. If it had a serial number, it could be traced back to where it came from, who had owned it before, and who owned it now. "I'm continuing patrol. Keep me updated."

"Roger."

Gordon looked over the small evidence bag. While important depending on the case, this bag in question held a bat-shape weapon, one that he was intimately knowledgeable of.

Someone was sloppy.

He placed the evidence bag on his desk, leaned back in his seat, and rubbed his eyes. It was starting to look like a late night. Reports of gunfire at a parking garage had brought the Gotham City Police to the scene of a botched robbery or burglary of sorts. It was hard to pull off either of those when all involved were unconscious.

There was talk about him being back. Always it was in hushed whispers, some already starting to chafe under them. Those were the ones not happy about this "comeback" if you could call it that. Other whispers were more positive in comparison. Gordon would almost say there was excitement there.

He himself, he wasn't happy about any of it. Not one bit.

This could be another incidence of a copycat Batman, one that had better training and better weapons than the others prowling the street. Ever since that night three years ago, and the disappearance of the Batman, others had strove to fill those black boots with mixed results.

Maybe not mixed; more like bad. Hospitalizations and prison time for those caught. People who didn't need to be injured were being injured, both from stupidity and criminals. There were hardly any arrests when these copycats were involved. By arrests, he meant those guilty of some pretty serious charges.

Now, on his desk, here was something that spelled out something more. He had an eye for these things, and he knew who made that thing knew what they were doing. You could almost say it was professionally made, and there was only one man in a bat mask capable of that.

Damn it, it was starting up all over again.

The door to his office opened and a sight for sore eyes greeted him. "Problem, Jim?" Sarah asked him as she set a styrofoam cup of coffee his desk. From the look of it, it looked just the way he liked it.

Nice to have her back too. She missed the excitement from a couple months ago. Vacation time she needed to take was the reasoning for that, but he had missed her and in more ways that one.

"Many problems, none to be solved tonight," he told her frankly.

"I've...heard about the arrests by the exchange. Any truth to them?" Ah, being indirect about it.

He held up the evidence bag. "Look for yourself."

He watched silently as Sarah held the bag, scrutinizing the bat-shaped weapon held within. He noticed the brow above her nose furrow a bit, and had to hold back a smile from leaking out.

"This looks like the real deal," Sarah said at last as she placed the evidence bag back on his desk. "So what are you going to do about it?"

The million dollar question. What was he going to do about it? Recalling the prior three years where organized crime made a comeback, and Jokerz terrorized the streets, Gordon was more than wary about trusting this "return." What was to say that he wouldn't go away again? That this was trying to relive the glory days?

Gordon wasn't having any of that.

He had worked too long and too hard to let it go now. He couldn't rely on someone who was unreliable. Three years is a long time to be without someone you used to rely on.

"I'm going to do nothing," Gordon stated. "If this is the real one, then this won't be in the evidence locker for long. However, I will not have anything to do with him. I need to focus on the department and make sure that no one falls back into old habits. We've come too far from the old days to slide right back into them."

""You know he-" Sarah began but he didn't let her finish.

"That was then, this is now. He's proven he can't be depended on when he's needed the most. The best any of us can do now is try to do our jobs without any temptations that might lead us back to those old days."

"And what about him, if it is him," Sarah asked, though he could hear the disapproval in her voice.

"Standing orders are to arrest him on sight," he said. "I won't pursue him, but I will arrest him if it comes to it."

"This isn't like you, Jim," Sarah stated.

"Let's…let's not go into this now," he sighed. This was not a topic he wanted to talk about and continuing would only make it worse, not better. The last person he wanted to get into a fight over this was Sarah, especially since…

His eyes darted to the ring on his left hand ring finger. He didn't have to look at Susan's left hand to see an identical ring.

"I'll speak with you later, Commissioner," Sarah said, her way of letting him know that they weren't done with this.

Gordon didn't reply as she left, his attention moving towards the still steaming cup of coffee. Three years was a long time, but at least they upgraded their coffee from crap to barely able to stomach. A huge improvement in the department to be sure.

Just another reminder for him that if there were any eyes he was to be concerned with, they were the eyes of Sarah Essen Gordon.