CHAPTER II

The operator picked up, saying, "911, what is your emergency?" Jonathan sighed heavily and nervously, saying, "Well, I, uh, this, she…" "Sir, calm down," said the operator, "Just take a few deep breaths and try again." On the other end, Jonathan nodded, breathing in and out in a few times, slowly. He said, "Um…a student of mine…she walked into my office…and she collapsed. I'm not sure what happened. I need an ambulance here now!" "As soon as possible," said the operator, "Where are you?" "Gotham University," said Jonathan, "I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane." "Okay, an ambulance is on its way now," said the operator reassuringly. "Okay," said Jonathan, sighing heavily. He hung up. He dropped the fakery, walking intently back into his office. He took off his jacket, placing it around Zoe's shoulders. "There," he said, emotionless, "Just as they'd expect a caring professor to do." He walked out of his office, sitting down up against the wall just outside with his cane. Five minutes later, he heard the telltale whining of an ambulance siren. He smirked slightly. He ran his hands through his hair, as a panicked person who'd just witnessed someone collapse might do. EMTs quickly rushed in with a stretcher. One came up to Jonathan, asking, "Is she in your office?" "Yes," said Jonathan, "I think she's still breathing." He stood up, watching the EMTs as they extracted Zoe.

A few hours later, he went to Gotham General Hospital with a vase full of flowers. He went up to the front desk, saying, "Um, I'm Jonathan Crane, Zoe Feldman's psych professor. Could you take these to her room?" The nurse at the front desk asked, "Are you sure you don't want to deliver them personally? Pay her a visit?" "No, I'm naturally a very shaky person," said Jonathan, "I don't think it would be good for my composure. Besides, I have to prepare a lesson. There are still other students who need me. Do they know what happened to her, by the way?" The nurse checked Zoe's file, saying, "They ran a tox screen. No drugs, illegal or prescription. At this point, it seems like she just…fell." "All right," said Jonathan, "At least she's okay." The nurse nodded, saying, "I'll get those flowers to her for you." Jonathan nodded his thanks, walking off. The nurse took the flowers into Zoe's room, saying, "Flowers for you, Miss Feldman." "From who?" asked Zoe. She furrowed her brow. She may have been quite promiscuous, but never had she received flowers from any of her various dates. The nurse set the flowers down on the bedside table, answering with a smile, "Your professor, Mr. Crane." "Oh," said Zoe, "That's awfully nice of hi…" She stopped. She only remembered walking into Jonathan's office, and then nothing. But even so, in her mind's eye, dismembered and rotting spiders writhed. She threw up violently, feeling weak. The nurse pressed the emergency call button, saying, "We have a situation in here!" Meanwhile, Jonathan was walking out of the hospital. Numerous nurses rushed past him towards Zoe's room. He smiled.

After he exited, he got a call from Cerberus. He answered, "Hi." Cerberus shuddered on the other end, saying, "We haven't heard anything from you for a while. What's been going on?" "Just a little annoyance," said Jonathan. "What kind of annoyance?" said Cerberus suspiciously, "I don't want you alerting anyone." "Nobody's dead," said Jonathan, irked, "Just emotionally scarred. You guys are all about that, right?" Cerberus paused. Eventually, he sighed, saying, "Fine. Just don't draw attention to yourself. You've come close before." "I'm careful, you know that," said Jonathan, "Stop your growling, dog." "It's Cerberus," said Cerberus, outraged. "Exactly," said Jonathan. Cerberus fumed, saying, "Look, Joseph wants you to get on it. Now." "Fine," said Jonathan, "I guess I don't have much to do anyway." Jonathan hung up, walking to his car and heading to the Gotham PD's HQ. He went to the front of the building, calling someone. A minute later, a police officer let him inside, saying, "What do you want this time, Scarecrow?" "Why so callous, officer DeCarlo?" asked Jonathan. "Because of you, I had to make up some excuse to stay here all night, waiting!" answered DeCarlo angrily, "That's why!" "Roger, Roger, Roger," said Jonathan, "Isn't it worth it, waiting for me?" Roger's mouth twitched with anger, and he said disgruntledly, "I'm only putting up with you because you outrank me." "No, it's because you're scared," said Jonathan, walking inside. Roger sneered, following Jonathan inside the building.

"The gang's all here, then," said Jonathan, looking around at Jordan Rich, Timothy Munroe, Arnold Flass, Jim Corrigan, and Marcus Wise. All corrupt police officers. All under Joseph's command, who they all assumed was a gang leader, not a leader of an army. "What'd you want, Scarecrow?" asked Jim, a strangely pale man. "I'll explain that, Spectre," answered Jonathan, "Have patience." Jim was angered, saying, "Don't call me that. It's not like I'm this pale by choice." "Could've had me fooled," said Jonathan. He looked over at Timothy, seeing that his arm was in a sling. "What happened to you?" asked Jonathan. "Deal gone bad," said Timothy, "Had to have it taken out to make it look like a through-and-through. Otherwise, IA would've found the custom-made bullet and gotten suspicious." "I guess you'll be doing the talking, then," said Jonathan. He paused for a few seconds, eventually stating, "Now. As to why I'm here. Joseph doesn't want to cooperate anymore. He wants the competition out of the way." "So, wait, was it him that killed Stryker a while back?" asked Jordan. "No, we don't know who it was," answered Jonathan, "Probably an out-of-towner. Nobody in Gotham needed him dead right now." Jim said, "Still, that's already one player out of the game." "And all the better for you," Arnold said to Jim. "What?" asked Jonathan. "Spectre, over here, he has a bit of a problem getting the job done," said Arnold, gesturing towards Jim. "I said DON'T CALL ME THAT!" said Jim loudly, "And besides, we almost killed a kid back then!" "You might have to this time, Jim," said Jonathan, "Just keep that in mind." Jim nodded slowly.

"So, who're we taking on first?" asked Marcus. "The Falcone family's been skittering through the pipes for a while now," said Jonathan, "Ever since the Joker killed Carmine. They need to be extinguished. More like maintenance, really." "Haven't done a clean-up job in a while," noted Arnold. "Well, then have fun," said Jonathan. Roger asked, "Are we going to need your techniques?" "No," said Jonathan, shaking his head, "Like Arnold said, this is just clean-up. We don't need any info they could give us. We just need them gone." "Who're we starting with?" asked Jim. "Louisa's out of the picture," said Jonathan, "She moved to Chicago after Carmine died. The big concern is Carmine's nephew, Johnny Viti. He lives on the outskirts of the underground, and he's become very interested in reviving the family. Make sure that doesn't happen." "Do we have a location on him?" asked Arnold. "This night of the week is always Johnny's strip club night," Jonathan. Marcus groaned, saying, "Aw, come on. A regular strip club is one thing, but one that's even NEAR the underground? Are we sure we can't wait?" "We could," said Jonathan, "But it'll be easier with a silencer, dark lighting, blaring rage music, and all the other guys in the room with their eyes fixed somewhere else." "Fine," said Marcus, sighing. "All right," said Jonathan, "All of you, hunt around. Once you find Johnny, get Jim to your location." He looked towards Jim, finishing, "There's more than one reason why we call you Spectre, whether you like it or not." Jim clenched his jaw, staying silent.

Jonathan walked out of the building, leaving the six other men to prepare. They all put on bulletproof vests under their shirts and took latex gloves, putting them on and grabbing their handguns as well. Once they were all ready, they walked out of the building, one by one, taking three squad cars. They traveled to the underground's border, where affluent met seedy in spectacular fashion. They all parked in front of three different clubs, with Jim and Arnold in front of the biggest. There was no one outside except for them and the guard out front. He held up a checklist, asking, "You got a membership card, or a reservation?" "No, but maybe this'll do," said Jim, flashing his badge. The guard nodded, saying, "Understood, officers." Suddenly, Arnold threw his hand over the guard's mouth while Jim put a silencer on his gun and shot the guard three times. Arnold eased the guard's fall, dragging him out of the way. Jim, the smaller of the two officers, got on Arnold's shoulders once he returned, taking out his pocketknife and cutting the cables to the outside security camera. When Jim hopped down, he looked at Arnold and ordered, "The second we're inside, get the security tapes out of the way." Arnold nodded, and they entered the club.

The deafening music made communication impossible, and the harsh bass meant Jim would have a harder time feeling his phone vibrate. In spite of this, he said to himself, "Hopefully Johnny's an extravagant kind of guy." For a few minutes, they scoured the club, even going so far as to bust open doors to private booths. Finding nothing, they met up in the center of the club, shaking their heads. When they stepped outside, Jim said, "The tapes?" Arnold took them out of his jacket. They smashed them on the pavement, setting the remains on fire using matches. Outside of the club, Jim was finally able to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. He answered, hearing Marcus' voice on the other end, saying angrily, "Where've you been? I've tried to call you three times now!" "It was a bit loud," said Jim, "Where are you?" Marcus gave him directions, and Jim and Arnold headed to their car. They followed the directions they were given, pulling up in front of another club. Marcus and Jordan were standing outside. "Have you taken care of the pleasantries?" asked Jim. Marcus gestured towards a charred heap of tape and answered, "The guard's in the alleyway." "It's a lot easier with these guns Scarecrow gave us," noted Jim, "We don't have to pull out the bullets because they're untraceable." "Yeah," said Timothy, "Now get in there. You'll find Johnny pretty easily." Jim nodded, walking inside.

Once again, the music of the club muted everything, and of course, no one took notice of Jim. Jim walked silently, smoothly maneuvering around the crowd. He barely touched anyone. Eventually, he saw Johnny Viti sitting in a booth off to the side, with two women on either side of him. Jim took out a pure white ski mask, slipping it over his head. He walked straight over to Johnny, saying as loud as he could, "Having a good night?" Johnny looked up, shouting, "Who're you?" "A friend of a friend," shouted Jim, raising his handgun and shooting Johnny in the face. The women shrieked, and Jim shouted at them, "Tell your other friends in the Falcone family: fear the Scarecrow." Jim walked out, taking off the mask and hopping into the car with Arnold. "Let's go," he said. Jim threw his gun out the car window as they sped off.