Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for your warm response to Before the Dawn! I wasn't expecting so many favorites and followers after only one chapter. Please review, I'd love to hear your opinions and field any questions you guys might have about the story or any of its characters. Or, if you prefer, message me, and I'll be more than happy to converse!

Fun Fact: As Lexigirl23 pointed out in her review, Detective McKenzie is named after the actor who plays Jim Gordon in the show Gotham. This was actually completely unintentional, as I could not come up with a name for said character, and used the name 'Ben McKenzie' as a placeholder when writing the first drafts. I meant to go back and change the name later, but at that point, I had gotten so attached to the name, I could not picture this character being called anything else, and the placeholder name stuck.


"Police and emergency services are urging Gotham residents to stay off the roads and in their homes tonight in light of the severe winter storm warning. Snow accumulations tonight are expected to be 5 to 8 inches, with winds of up to 50 miles per hour. Radar reports show the storm moving northeast…"

"Well, we'll certainly be getting a white Christmas this year."

Laura snorted, gazing out the passenger side window of the police cruiser. Gotham's streets were uncharacteristically desolate, the layers of snow and ice on the roads warding off most of the city's usual nighttime traffic. In any other city, the winter weather coupled with the bright Christmas lights strung along the city's streets would have looked pretty.

In Gotham, they just looked sinister.

"No kidding. It'll be a miracle if I can get my car through this mess tonight."

McKenzie smirked. "The way tonight's going, we'll be lucky if we-"

"Dispatch to Delta 4-8." The radio crackled to life, cutting off the detective.

"This is Delta 4-8, over." Laura responded, picking up the mic to the cruiser's radio.

"Respond to 43 Callow Street, at the GCR tower near Cale-Anderson Pharmaceuticals. Break-in, 4 suspects, all formerly armed."

Laura frowned at the radio, ignoring McKenzie's muttering from the driver's seat as he swung the car around back towards Coventry. "Formerly?"

"Affirmative." The dispatcher confirmed. "Suspects have been subdued and are awaiting detainment."

"Copy, dispatch. We're on our way."

"Who do you think took them down? Doesn't sound like GCPD."

Laura turned back towards the cruiser's window, shaking her head.

"No idea. But we're about to find out."

-II-

"Sorry, come again?"

The man sitting in front of Laura, a scrawny, shivering Gotham Optics technician, huffed at the sergeant's look of disbelief.

"It was a bat. A huge, man-sized bat. It came down from the ceiling and attacked the guy, then flew away."

A second technician scoffed, sneering at his co-worker. "Don't be an idiot, Jerry." He turned towards the two officers. "It was a guy, not some bat-monster. Huge dude, all decked out in tactical gear an' shit. Military-lookin' stuff, you know? Dude even had a fuckin' cape. Came out through the vents and did some kung fu move or somethin', knocked out the guy who had me in one hit."

Laura ignored McKenzie, whose head had perked up at the mention of the mystery man. "And then what happened?"

The technician shrugged. "He told me to call the cops and get myself outta there, and just crawled back into the vents."

"He went up to the tower."

McKenzie turned to face the third technician, who had been silent since their arrival. "What do you mean?"

"The guy in the armored suit. He went up towards tower's control panel." The tech replied. "Don't know what he wanted up there, but that's where he went."

Laura turned to one of the other officers on the scene. "Finish getting their statements. I'll be right back."

Turning her back on the technicians, Laura headed towards the radio tower's stairs, McKenzie close behind.

"You think it's him? The Bat-Man?"

Laura snorted. "I'd hope so. If there's more than one guy running around Gotham in a bat costume tonight, we're in for a world of trouble."

-II-

Jezebel Plaza looked like something out of a Christmas special. The open-air shopping plaza was covered in a thick layer of snow, the holiday lights dangling from the glazed glass ceiling bathing the area in a soft, warm glow. A picturesque, if cliché, depiction of the North Pole, complete with colorfully wrapped presents, life-size gingerbread houses, and two large firs flanking an ornate throne dominated the center of the Plaza. It was every small child's Christmas dream, save for the thug in a worn Santa hat lounging on said throne, an armed guard on either side of him warily watching the group of newcomers approach from Phoenicia Street.

"Guys!" The thug laughed, leaning forward in his seat. "So, little boys – what do you want for Christmas?"

Before any of the newcomers could answer, the thug, nicknamed 'Loose Lips' by his comrades, flashed them a crooked grin and leaned back on the throne, gesturing for his guards to begin distributing the contraband they'd brought. "Oh wait, I already know."

The guard to his right opened a briefcase, hoisting it high enough for the men gathered to get a glimpse at its contents; a military-grade sniper rife. Without a word, one of the newcomers tossed a briefcase at the thug on the throne, moving forward to begin assembling the rifle for inspection. Loose Lips took no notice, preoccupied with his end of the exchange.

"Now let's see if you've been naughty or….oh! Oh ho ho! Nice." He laughed, face illuminated by the unmistakable glint of gold.

Unbeknownst to the group, they were being watched, a lone figure perched on an overlooking gargoyle sneering in disgust at the exchange. Oblivious, the group continued on, even as the figure launched itself off its perch and began to glide through the air towards them.

"Where's the rest of 'em?"

"Easy, tiger. When you deal with us, you're dealing with the Penguin. This ain't some fly-by-night operation."

"Let's see 'em then. I didn't come all the way down here for just one-"

The man never got to finish his sentence, as two heavy boots planted themselves into his back, sending him flying forward and into one of Penguin's men. Panicking, the men scrambled to fight back, only to find themselves quickly and thoroughly dispatched by the unknown assailant. Within moments, all were unconscious, save for Loose Lips who was kneeling in the snow, hands raised above his head in a gesture of surrender.

"Don't, don't! Whatever you're goin' to do – don't!"

Suddenly grabbed and tossed on the throne, the thug could only gape at the armored man before him. Flinching and attempting to shield himself with the briefcase of ill-gotten gold, the man screamed when he was violently kicked through the North Pole display, landing on his back as the man in black grabbed him by the throat and held him two feet off the ground

"Where's the Penguin?"

Chocking and sputtering, Loose Lips tried to speak, the armored man's iron grip making it difficult.

"I don't know!"

Clearly unbelieving, the man in black tightened his grip and hoisted the thug higher.

"Where is he?!"

"I…swear…" The criminal coughed out, before promptly passing out in the armored man's grip.

When he came to, the first thing Loose Lips noticed was the sound of a man's voice impatiently telling him to wake up. The second was that wherever he was, it was very windy and very cold.

With a start, the man began screaming, realizing he was being dangled by his ankle eighty feet off the ground. Looking up, he gaped at the man in black who was holding him over the edge of the clock tower.

"Time to talk. Where's Cobblepot?"

-II-

"All right…yeah, thanks."

McKenzie hung up his phone, turning towards Laura.

"CSI is on their way. You think the Bat did this?"

Kneeling in the rubble of what was once one of the radio tower's walls, Laura shook her head as she examined the body lying on the floor. "No. He showed up, what, half an hour, forty-five minutes ago? Body's too stiff for that. This guy's been here for hours."

"Any ideas?" McKenzie asked, leaning against the wall.

"Not really. Seems like overkill to rig a door to explode to kill one guy. Probably weren't aiming to kill anyone specific, just keep people away from the control panel."

"You think the tower was sabotaged, then?" McKenzie frowned. "So whoever did this was, what, just protecting their work?"

"More or less." Laura shrugged. "But who would mess with a radio tower? Techs say it's back online, so they obviously didn't take anything. Why else would they be here?"

Before McKenzie could respond, the shrill ringing of a phone rang out in the corridor. Fishing around in her pocket, Laura pulled out her phone and brought it up to her ear.

"Anderson."

"Anderson, it's Gordon. You and McKenzie still on scene at the GCR tower?"

"Yeah, we're here. Why?"

"Someone sent a tip to the precinct about a body upstairs. And a full analysis of the crime scene. And the IDs of the victim and perp."

Laura suppressed a smile at the captain's irritated tone. "Yeah, we found it, we're just waiting for CSI to get here."

"Good. You and McKenzie head back to the precinct when they get there."

"Sure thing, see you then."

In response to McKenzie's questioning look, Laura shook her head. "Someone called in about the body and sent us a full crime scene analysis. Looks like the Bat's been busy."

Standing up, Laura brushed the dust off her pants and took a step back from the rubble. "Gordon wants us back at the precinct as soon as the techs show up."

McKenzie raised an eyebrow. "Something going on?"

"Not that he mentioned." The sergeant shrugged. "Probably wants to coordinate the search for whoever broke out of Blackgate tonight. Best get it done now, before the roads get completely impassable. The weather's only supposed to get worse from here on out."

The CSI technicians arrived soon enough, crime scene analysis in hand, Laura noted with amusement, and within minutes the two officers were on their way to the New Gotham Precinct.

"So, now that Loeb's dead…" McKenzie started, drawing the sergeant's attention away from the sight of Pioneer's Bridge just outside the cruiser, "Who's in charge? Branden, or Gordon?"

"Honestly, Ben? I've got no idea. In a perfect world, Gordon's captaincy would snag him the spot, Branden's connections be damned. But he was Loeb's lapdog, and with SWAT at his back…"

"It's anyone's game." The detective concluded.

Laura nodded, gaze returning to the city flashing by outside the cruiser's window. Leaning her head against the glass, she sighed, not daring to vocalize what both officers were thinking.

And we're going to be caught right in the middle of it.

-II-

The once-opulent Lacey Towers apartment was in shambles. A fire had clearly broken out, leaving the hardwood floor blackened and charred and a layer of soot covering the whole room. Pieces of broken furniture littered the floor, indicating some sort of fight or struggle. The most gruesome feature was the two bodies decorating the main room of the apartment; the male sprawled out on the floor in a puddle of dried blood while the female, identified as Tiffany Ambrose, was strung up on the chandelier, hanging by her wrists.

It was here that Bruce Wayne found himself, kneeling in the soot and ash to better examine the male victim.

The shallow trajectory of the bullet suggests the shooter could be someone of Penguin's height, Bruce mused to himself. But the grooves on the floor suggest the victim was killed by someone leaning back in a chair.

Standing up, Bruce moved over to the body of Tiffany Ambrose, still suspended in the center of the room. Glancing up, he examined the bullet wound in her chest, undoubtedly the source of the young woman's demise. This bullet was fired from a revolver. Ballistics analysis indicates a low angle of trajectory. The shooter could have been someone of Penguin's height, but the pattern in the gunpowder residue suggests the bullet was actually fired by someone lying on the ground.

As Bruce moved through the apartment, more clues began to surface, further piecing together the scene. Four people were present in the room at the time of the crime; Tiffany Ambrose, the male victim, his shooter, and whomever attacked the shooter. Penguin, though present at the crime scene, had arrived long after the crime had been committed, and could not have been the shooter. Which begged the question…

If he didn't kill Black Mask, who did?

Picking up a phone on the floor and realizing it must have belonged to Tiffany, Bruce quickly flicked through the text messages, the most recent addressed to Roman Sionis.

Tiffany: Hurry I'm scared

Roman: On my way

Tiffany: Who's the Joker?

Roman: No one that matters

Scowling to himself, Bruce put down the phone and made towards the door. With every new clue, only more questions were raised. Who is 'the Joker'? Was he the killer here? Or is he one of the assassins?

Flicking on the comm piece in his cowl, Bruce angled his head down towards the mic.

"Alfred – I need access to the National Criminal Database."

"Well, the only way to do that would be to infiltrate the Gotham City Police Department." The butler's accented voice responded through the comm.

"Then that's where I'm going." The vigilante decided.

"Sir, you'd need to physically hack into their servers. If you insist on doing something that foolish you'll need a powerful nonlethal weapon. I recommend coming back here to pick up your concussion detonator."

"Not a bad idea."

Bruce exited the apartment, making his way back towards the balcony he'd entered the tower from. Quickly dispatching the SWAT officer guarding the door, the vigilante exited it and grappled up onto the roof. Activating the signal on his utility belt, it was only moments before the dark shape of the Batwing appeared overhead. Shooting his grappling line upwards, Bruce swiftly made his way into the vehicle, shooting off in the direction of Wayne Manor.

-II-

"I know everyone's still in shock over what happened to Commissioner Loeb, but we need to stay focused on our primary targets for tonight. So far Waylon Jones has been processed – and we're following an anonymous tip on Deathstroke's location – but we've got a ways to go before sunrise."

Gordon stood in front of two dozen officers gathered in the New Gotham Precinct's bullpen. Most were part of Gordon's Vigilante Task Force, but a few officers and detectives had been pulled from Homicide and SWAT to deal with the growing body count due to the assassins' presence in the city. Laura Anderson stood in the front row, listening intently to her mentor's address.

"There's eight assassins in town tonight. From the info we've been gathering, they are among the most dangerous criminals on record – period. After interrogating Waylon Jones, we've learned that they're all competing for a huge bounty which Black Mask has offered for the head of the Bat."

A murmur broke out amongst the officers gathered, and out of the corner of her eye, Laura spotted several of Branden's SWAT members exchange a look. McKenzie, who'd been standing next to her, leaned over and whispered, "Fifty-million, from what I heard."

"Alright, cut the chatter, people," Gordon interrupted, once again commanding the attention of the room. "Our goal is to ensure order in this city. So our number one priority becomes bringing in the Bat BEFORE these assassins get to him. Now, the closer it gets to morning, the more desperate the assassins will grow – and if he's still out there – the more damage they'll cause to the city as they try to find or attract him. All right, dismissed."

Gordon walked off towards his office, a young redhead Laura recognized as Gordon's daughter Barbara waiting for him by the door. Turning her back to the father and daughter, who at that point had begun to argue, Laura addressed the detective at her side.

"You catch that look between SWAT when Gordon mentioned the bounty?"

McKenzie nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah. Not surprised Branden would try to go after it. He's almost as much in Sionis' pocket as Loeb was."

"Must not be feeling too confident he can grab power from Gordon." Laura mused.

"Heard Hill might name Grogan instead."

Laura snorted. Peter Grogan was just as corrupt, if not more so, than Loeb. The man didn't so much as sneeze without consulting Sal Maroni first. If almost nothing got done under Loeb, a GCPD under Grogan was not even worth the taxpayer dollars it took to keep it running.

The sound of a door slamming interrupted the conversation, and a glance over to Captain Gordon's office explained why. Barbara Gordon stormed out of her father's office, off towards the ground level of the precinct despite her father's "Barbara, wait!" shouted after her. Sighing, Laura gave McKenzie an apologetic smile before ascending the stairs towards the captain's office.

Gordon was leaning against the doorframe of his office, rubbing his temples.

"Bat-Man argument again?"

Gordon glanced up, nodding. "She just doesn't understand that he's just another criminal. That he's subverting the law. If she wasn't so damn stubborn…"

"A trait she inherited from her father, evidently." Laura smirked.

Gordon snorted, rubbing his temples once more. With a glance towards the stairway to the main floor, the sergeant laid a hand on her mentor's arm.

"Jim, just relax. Go get a cup of coffee and take ten. Believe me, you look like you could use it. I'll go talk to Barbara."

The captain shot his protégé a grateful smile. "Thanks, kid."

Laura turned away from her mentor and descended down the precinct's main staircase. Barbara wasn't hard to find; since she'd been old enough to work a computer, one could always find Barbara Gordon in the GCPD's server room, sifting through the files on the computers' database. Today was no exception.

"Anything in particular catching your eye?"

The teenager jumped, clearly not expecting company. The tenseness that had seized her body moments before melted away as she recognized the sergeant, folding her arms and scowling at the woman before her.

"Laura! Jesus, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, Barb." Laura walked over to the computer the young woman had been working with, glancing at the screen and arching a brow. "Investigating missing weapons?"

Barbara blushed, but held the sergeant's gaze. "If I don't do anything, who will? The system's broken Laura, you know that! Those weapons will just get sold off to Penguin or Black Mask, and no one will do anything!"

Laura sighed, laying a hand on the redhead's shoulder. "I know Barbara, believe me, I know. But if someone finds out what you're up to, you could end up getting really hurt, or worse. And your Dad and I might not be able to protect you."

The girl sighed, glancing back towards the computer screen. She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could, the server room door swung open. Turning towards the newcomer, Laura immediately shoved Barbara behind her, unholstering her sidearm and aiming it at the figure in the doorway. A deafening silence fell over the room at the telltale 'click' of the gun's safety being flicked off.

In the doorway stood the Bat-Man.