Author's Note: Yesterday marked the tenth year I have been posting stories on this site. That's right, since 7/6/07, I have been posting various stories in various fandoms almost nonstop for ten whole years. And I foresee no end in sight to the posting. Not with the plans ShadowMajin and I have made for this series thus far. Enjoy.
These are your Choices
Things had changed for the man once known as Harvey Dent.
No longer was he Gotham's District Attorney, fighting crime through the justice system and sending away the scum of the earth to life behind bars. Now he was Two-face, the usurper of a crime family who was intent on transforming it into a syndicate, bringing in the scum of the earth to serve as his muscle and hired help.
To show how far his transformation was, he had dressed himself in two-colored suits, preferring a solid white color on his right side, and a solid black on his left. It matched up with his face now, the right side pristine and handsome, the image of Harvey Dent, district attorney of Gotham. The left side was scarred, acid burning away and corroding the skin into a dark brownish-purple, pulled back on the lips of his mouth so that his teeth could be visible to all, and decimating the eyelids of his left eye so that it was perpetually open. Much of the hair on the left side of his head had been eaten away at the follicle, and what was left was poorly kept, strings of it laying lifelessly against his scalp.
Despite how chaotic the past few months had been, there had been a strategy involved. It was simple: take everything that had once belonged to his predecessor, assert his dominance over those that were already a part of it, and rid himself of anyone who opposed him. After that, establish his control over the city and bring everyone else under his heel. He'd known from the beginning that it wasn't going to be easy.
That meant he would need to be smarter. A better tactician. Outthink his rivals and cut them down mercilessly. Or mercifully give them the option to reconsider and join him, bringing along their collective knowledge and experience to make a stronger organization. It was so hard to choose which to do at times.
Lucky for him, he had a coin to solve that.
It was perfect. A fifty-fifty decision maker, one that would finalize what his next move would be without exception. Unbiased chance, impossible to rig. Because that's what everything amounted to, a difference between two extremes.
Strong or weak.
Innocent or guilty.
Merciful or ruthless
Life or death.
A single flip of the coin was all of them, judge, jury, executioner rolled up into a two-sided coin. Heads or tails. Good heads or bad heads.
He was flipping that coin, his thumb launching it into the air, his hand waiting and catching it, then repeating the process all over again without even looking at it. It was mindless and soothing at the same time. The couch he reclined on was a mere afterthought, a detail that was best ignored.
What wasn't to be ignored was a status update of what the streets were like. That was information coming out from his right hand man, Min Donovan. Min was a short, thin, freckled man with light red hair, and dressed in a dress shirt, sports jacket, and bowtie ensemble. He also had a bit of an overbite, which gave the impression he had buckteeth. He was a bit of a brown noser, always eager to try and impress.
"—we managed to send those sucker running with their tails between their legs. Now all of Bowing Street is under our protection. We'll be getting the payments later this week," Min finished up his tale of action and adventure, trying to paint a picture where he and his boys were spreading the rule of Two-face to all corners of the city. In the end, it was just another protection racket seized and owned. Another stream of revenue, was all.
Still, he flipped for it. Good heads, he'd suspended all protection payments indefinitely. No sense making those poor people pay for something that truly didn't need. Bad heads, keep the protection payments going, double it for those who resisted.
And it was bad heads.
"Start collecting tomorrow," the disfigured crime lord ordered. His was deeper than it used to be in his days as the district attorney, with an almost gravelly quality to it. "Anyone who resists, give'em a reason why they need protection and double the cost."
"Right, Two-face!" Min nodded eagerly.
Now on to his left-hand man, Max Donovan. Max was a carbon copy of Min, from the light red hair, the freckles, even the same damn overbite. He even dressed identically to Min.
Of course, Min and Max were identical twins. Two petty thieves that Harvey Dent had prosecuted years ago and then conscripted into his growing criminal empire. They were two-bit losers, and they still were. However, they were loyal, did what they were told, and had yet to cross him, or anger him to the point where a coin toss was needed.
Seeing that he was looking at him, Max began speaking quickly. "We got a good idea on where one of the last holdouts are. The big one is over on Congress Avenue. A bookie joint. The last gambling den that's on our turf. All of them are Thorne's old guard and none of them are willing to join up. You want to go show them who's boss? Or should we?"
Instead of answering right away, Two-face shot a look over to a scrawny-looking man in a business suit. To his credit, the guy didn't flinch away.
"You know anything about a place on Congress? Anything worth paying a visit for?" he asked, his eyes boring into the man.
The man in question, one Michael Doubleday retained his composure. "It sounds like the Duece's Den. Just a gambling den, nothing more. The best it ever did was what Mr. Thorne called 'chump change'."
"But to a bunch of desperate rats, chump change is looking pretty attractive," Two-face replied. He held his coin between two fingers and his thumb, rubbing the pads of his fingertips against the smooth side of good heads. "And rats will scrape by with anything they can get their hands on."
"So what do you want to do, boss?" Min asked, practically brimming with energy where he stood.
"Anything you're not telling me?" the two-faced man pressed, ignoring the twin.
"Like the rest, it has a back entrance," Michael shrugged his shoulders. "It's pretty much like all the other places you've raided. Mr. Thorne wanted to keep them uniformed so that if he moved his men around, they wouldn't have to get used to a new setup. Since this is now a larger operation, what changes have been made to Duece's is unknown to me at the moment."
Two-face looked away from Thorne's over-glorified secretary and moved his sights onto the men he had available. Unlike the twins and Doubleday, these men were larger, much much larger. Mountains of muscle under tight clothing that either came in solid black or solid white. They lounged here and there, not really paying attention to the four of them. On the streets, these guys were known as the Two Ton Gang. They were also the first of many groups he had recruited to form this organization.
As shock troops, they were invaluable. Tough, able to take a hit and get right back up, and intimidating when entering a room. Their gunplay could use some work. They liked using their fists too much so aiming a gun was not on their list of priorities. Machine guns? Fine. You didn't really need to aim those.
"Tell the boys to pack some heat," he told the twins, turning to face them. "We got a job tonight. Don't let anybody out without my say so." Pausing as a thought occurred to him, he flipped his coin and observed the result. "Bring some gasoline too. No matter what, we're torching the place."
As he stood up, Min had the gall to ask, "You're coming with us?"
Leveling a look at the punk, Two-face stated, "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, don't you?"
With a hand pressed against the comm link in her ear, Black Canary said, "Hey, Oracle, can you run a trace on a license plate for me?"
There was a moment before the distinctly computer-generated voice answered her. It had a more feminine tone than the last voice distortion program, so someone had been updating their tech lately. Ever since the events of a few months ago, this mysterious Oracle had been more than willing to lend just about anyone assistance, using her impressive hacking skills to do so. The Batclan had been her main customers from what she could tell, something that was quite telling as to who the Oracle's identity was. That wasn't any of her business though, so she was content with using the offered service as needed.
"I can do that," came Oracle's reply. "What's the plate numbers?"
Looking at the back of the van, the blonde began rattling off the numbers. "CS5 N2Y."
Again there was silence, lasting a little longer than the one after the vigilante's hailing. "I have a hit," Oracle announced. "The van is registered to an old vet clinic just outside of the city. According to my intel, it's been closed for the last five years and hasn't been used since."
An abandoned vet clinic, huh? How convenient. "Thanks, Oracle." With that Black Canary shut off the link, looking to Katana. "It looks like this van came from outside of the city. You ready for a drive?"
The Asian woman nodded. "I am."
Turning away from the van, the two women left the area, entering the alleyway and making their way to its exit. Their bikes weren't too far away, but it would take a little time to get to them. Considering the van had been left behind, there was no real reason to rush over there. It was likely the person using the place was finished with the clinic and moved on elsewhere. Considering how they just left their vehicle behind without a second thought, it stood to reason the clinic would be no different.
There was a sense of anticipation in the air. Excitement filled every cell, every pore, and poured out in waves. Everything had led up to this momentum, this glorious, glorious moment.
And it just so happened to include a mugging.
She leaned over the edge of the building and stared into the alleyway. At its bottom was some thug in a leather coat and wool hat. He had a knife in hand and was waving it around dangerously at a woman, who was cowering against the side of a dumpster, sputtering and begging not to be killed.
A look to one side showed a fire escape leading down the side of the building. Quickly, she made her way to it and began climbing down the metal structure. As fast as she wanted to be, she had to take it slow; she couldn't give away her position this soon into things. The modified grey boots she wore were thankfully made of soft material, so they weren't clattering on the metal rails. The black leggings cling to her legs as she worked her way down the fire escape.
Of course, a little color was desirable. A blue undershirt was partially covered by the piece of kevlar she wore around her waist. It looked more like a corset, but this one wasn't digging into her waist and hips like that insane piece of Victorian fashion. And if the blue wasn't enough, the stalk of purple hair whipping about her face gave her a nice edgy look.
Her blue-gloved hand dragged along the railing as she hurried down the escape, going 'round and around and around. When she finally reached the last level—and thankfully knife guy hadn't begun slicing and dicing the lady, she swung her legs over the railing shoved her heels between the bars of the fire escape. Grabbing the support bar the attached the first and second levels together, she made sure her blue headgear was in place and covering the right places of her face before she reached into her black jacket and pulled out a large, metal gun.
Holding it out with one hand, she aimed it right at the thug. She had always thought her nerves would make this a tough shot, but she was surprisingly calm. Her breathing was up, but that was from having to simultaneously climb down the fire escape without making a ruckus. Now, her arm was steady and her sights were lining up.
She squeezed the trigger.
A bolt of electricity fired from the barrel and crackled through the air. A moment later it struck knife guy in the back, his body immediately stiffening as he gave out a shrill scream. Releasing the trigger, she watched as the electricity vanished in an instant, leaving the thug standing still, smoke rising from his body.
The knife fell from his hand then, clattering on the ground. He then dropped to his knees before keeling over, collapsing into a heap of tazed body parts. The frightened woman stared at him with wide eyes, whole seconds passing by before she worked up the courage to look away and right at the blue-and-black girl.
"I believe the words you're looking for are 'thanks,'" she called out helpfully, a proud smirk on her face. She pulled the weapon back, pointing the barrel up towards the sky.
"Thanks?" the woman repeated in…well, bewilderment? Shock? Surprise? Maybe uncertainty was a better word. Still, at least she had said something.
"That's right." Holstering her gun-shaped taser, she then pulled out a much smaller gun, this time pointing it up towards the roof of the building opposite of her. "Tell your friends there's a new vigilante out and about," she added just before she pulled the trigger.
An arrowhead fired out of the barrel, a cable following it in its wake. The arrowhead hit the brick at the top of the building and pierced into it. Releasing the trigger, she then tightened her finger against it, but didn't quite fully squeeze it.
"Tell them the Bluebird is out," Harper Row added right before she finally depressed the trigger. Releasing her hold on the fire escape railing, she was pulled up and towards the other building, the wide whipping at her face and body as she ascend into the—
"Augh!" she grunted out as she rammed right into the brick wall, then felt the front of her body being roughly dragged up it. Twisting her head to a side, she gritted her teeth until she slowed to a stop. Glancing up, she saw the building's ledge within grabbing distance and immediately went for it. Getting a good grip, she hauled herself up and over the ledge rolling on top of it until she dropped onto the roof on the other side.
"Well, that could've ended better," Harper muttered to herself. There she was, looking all cool and edgy, and what does she do? Give herself road rash by climbing up the side of a building. How did the other vigilantes do it without leaving pieces of their skin along the side of buildings?
Still, that had been great. A smile worked its way onto Harper's face. That had been her first bust and aside from her exit, it couldn't have gone better. Her stun gun worked, her costume struck a badass vibe that left people speechless; what could possibly make this any better?
A stinging sensation made itself known on the side of her face, causing Harper to wince. Okay, so maybe she hadn't bemoaned scrapping most of herself against brick and mortar. She needed more practice with her homemade grapple gun, but hey, that's what the rest of the night was for.
Once she put a bandaid on her skinned face, that is.
The Hosea's Veterinarian Clinic looked about how Black Canary suspected it would. A few rundown, interconnected buildings, a large parking lot, and a chain link fence surrounding it. It had certainly seen better days.
Yet, there was one thing wrong with the place: the lock to the gates was new. It was still shiny, free of rust that clung to the metal gate. That was the first clue that someone had been using the place recently.
A quick sword strike from Katana severed the lock in two and the two Birds of Prey pulled up to the front of the vet clinic. Killing the engines, the vigilante's got off their motorcycles and picked the lock of the front door, entering the building soon after.
What had to have been the lobby greeted the women upon entering. It was empty of everything, as if it hadn't been used in…well, years. Clearly this part of the complex hadn't been bothered with. Making their way to the back of the room, passing behind what had been the front desk, they reached a door and opened it.
A hallway greeted them next. Walking down it, they soon saw several rooms, their doors wide open. Looks through the doorways indicated these rooms were for the animal patients that were brought here. Again, these places were empty, save for the built-in cabinets that had once housed medical equipment for examinations. Tiny holes in the sheetrock indicated where pushpins had held up posters on the walls.
Despite this emptiness, there was a feeling in Black Canary's gut. Something about this place just felt wrong. It was hard to explain, but the further she explored this place, the more she felt ill at ease. Perhaps it was just a feeling; perhaps she was feeling paranoid for no good reason; all she knew is that she didn't like this place.
Towards the end of the hall they finally hit paydirt. Unlike the examination rooms, this room's door was closed. Opening it, they were greeted with the sight of a lab. Originally it was intended to run blood tests and other diagnostic exams of animal fluids and waste products. Now though, some rather expensive lab tech was placed on the work benches. Vials and beakers were scattered all over the tables with various machines and microscopes mingling with them. There was a nearby trashcan that was overflowing with balled-up pieces of paper. Kneeling down next to it, the blonde vigilante picked up one of the paper balls and fiddled with it until it resembled a crinkled piece of paper.
There was handwriting on the paper, all with scribbles of numbers and letters. It looked like some sort of formula, be it scientific or mathematic. Some were scratched through, especially towards the bottom of the page.
Black Canary imagined many of the other paper balls were the same. In the meantime, Katana had ventured further into the room, looking at some of the microscope and even looking into the lens. She didn't say anything, so the blonde imagine her friend didn't find anything.
Still, just because they weren't seeing anything didn't mean there weren't other means of detection. "Is anything jumping out at you?" Black Canary called out.
"I do not like this place," Katana answered her, one hand hovering by her sword hilt uneasily. "This place feels wrong."
Oh good, it wasn't just her. Standing up, Black Canary took another look around before spotting another doorway towards the other end of the room. Walking towards it, she faintly heard Katana following behind her. Once they reached the door, the blonde vigilante grabbed the door handle and turned it, finding it to be unlocked.
Opening the door, they found another room, though this one was dark. There was a faint, yet unfortunately familiar sound too, which caused a sinking feeling to well up in her stomach. Eyeing a lightswitch off to her left, she reached out and flicked the switch on.
The lights immediately came out, which caused an uproar of screeches, barks, and howls. One of Black Canary's hands shot up to cover her mouth as she stared at the sight in horror.
There was a wall entirely covered with cages. They were reminiscent of the cages in the van Katana had discovered, though they were definitely larger in size. However, whereas the Man-Bats there had been completely changed, the ones here...weren't.
There were Man-Bats in the cages, to be sure, many of which seemed to either attack at the bars in front of them, or were scrambling to hide in the furthest corner of their cages. In other cages were dogs and cats, all of which were making the distinctly non-Man-Bat screams. They were doing their best to stay away from the mutated bats as much as they could.
And then were the others. Various cats and dogs were in various stages of transformation. Some had developed wings from their front legs, some had bat-like heads and faces while the rest of their bodies remained the same. Some had their upper bodies transformed while the rest of them weren't, and vice-versa. It was a scene right out of a mad scientist's laboratory.
"Whoever did this is not human," Katana spoke lowly as she stared at the poor creatures.
Damn right they're not. In all of her life, Black Canary never understood how people could be so cruel to animals. The depravity was mind-boggling. "We need to find whoever did this and make them pay. No way should they get away with this."
"What do we do with the animals?" Katana asked.
The blonde woman swallowed deeply. "We should free the animals not changed yet. Then we'll get the antidote and change the others back."
The two stared at the frightened animals for awhile after that. It was just that hard to look away. Ultimately, they did turn to leave, though they turned the light off if only to make sure the person responsible for this wasn't aware of their visit should they return while they were gone. Working their way through the lab, they reached the exit in short order.
The moment they opened the door, however, they ran into some unexpected company. There was a man dressed in head-to-toe green; in fact, he looked like someone right out of Robin Hood. The only part of him that wasn't green was the blonde beard and moustache around his mouth.
There was a look of surprise on his face in spite of the green domino mask he wore. Clearly he wasn't expecting to see the two Birds. Yet, there was only one reason this man could have been here—he was responsible for that horror show in the back.
So Black Canary did the only thing that came to mind: she slammed her fist into the green-dressed man's face. The man cried out in surprise as he stumbled backwards, his back colliding with the wall on the other side of the hall.
Leaping forward, Canary swung her leg up, attempting to land a kick across the guy's face. However, he seemed to recover quicker than anticipated as he shot an arm up and blocked the kick with his forearm.
That was when Katana darted around the blonde vigilante, drawing her sword while simultaneously slashing the weapon at her foe. "Whoa!" the man cried out before he ducked the slash, Katana's sword leaving a gash in the wall from where the blade cut into it.
However, because of this Black Canary had to raise her extended leg up higher to avoid getting cut herself. This left her wide open for the green-dressed man to drop into a crouched stance before he lashed out with his own leg, kicking out Canary's grounded leg as he spun around on the floor. Letting out a surprised cry, the blonde woman fell onto the floor, but immediately went into a roll, going legs over head until she was back on her feet.
Meanwhile, Katana pressed her attack, landing a kick to the side of the man's head. He too dropped to the floor, but like Canary went into a roll, ending up back on his feet. This, however, gave her a good look at the man's back, seeing a quiver full of arrows and a bow.
As he shot up to stand on his feet, the man grabbed his bow and pulled it over his shoulder even as she spun around to face Katana. He got his weapon up just in time to block the Asian woman's sword strike, a dull thud echoing out into the hall.
"Hold it, Crouching Tiger!" the man exclaimed. "I don't want to fight you."
He then pushed back against Katana's sword, parrying before he jumped backwards to put some distance between her and him. He held his bow out in front of him, his hands holding it on either end of the weapon's body. "Now, if we just talk this out, I think we can all leave this place in a way that benefits all of us."
Reading his body language, Black Canary realized this guy meant what he said. He was purposefully keeping himself in a defensive stance; not one muscle indicated he wanted to fight. Katana had to have noticed this since she didn't press her attack.
Still, no way were they going to drop their guard. Rising up to her feet while keeping in her own defensive posture, Black Canary called out, "Who are you?"
"Name's Green Arrow," he answered, slowly lowering his bow to one side. "I came a long way to find this place—can't say I was expecting to see either of you two pretty ladies though."
Black Canary raised an eyebrow at that. "And where did you come from?"
Green Arrow looked to the blonde. For a moment she felt as if he were checking her out and not in the professional manner. "Star City, ma'am.
"Now, if you don't mind my askin', can you tell me your names?"
The two women looked to each other. It was clear neither of them trusted this guy, but he obviously didn't mean them harm, at least at this moment. Still, it wouldn't do any harm to at least give them their names. "I'm Black Canary," the blonde answered for the both of them. "And she's Katana. Now tell us what you're doing here."
"Tough crowd," Green Arrow muttered before he straightened out his posture. "I'm not sure whether your know this or not, but Star City has recently had some troubles with giant bats. I'm sure you know the kind."
"We do."
"When they started popping up, I did some investigating. From what I found out, there's this guy name Dr. Milo; apparently he managed to get his hands on some of that monster bat formula that was made in your neck of the woods. He'd been doing some experiments of animals—mostly strays. Then he up and left and this is where I tracked his last known whereabouts."
That seemed convenient—a mad scientist experimenting with the Man-Bat serum. Still, they would look into this Dr. Milo and see if all of this added up. If so, then they had their man.
"Which brings me to something else," the green-dressed man continued. "I know there's a bit of a hierarchy in Gotham. I knew if I was going anywhere with my investigation, I'd have to talk to the Big Cheese here, so I have a request of you. Can you get me a meeting with the big guy?"
That caused Black Canary to blink her eyes owlishly. Was this guy talking about what she thought he was talking about? "You want us to help you meet up with Batman?" she questioned carefully.
Green Arrow nodded. "It's more of a formality thing, really. This isn't my home turf and I know if some other vigilante wanted to work my town, I'd want a talk with them. From what I hear, your Batman is the same way. So I'm hoping to do the same with the big, bad Bat. Can you help me out?"
This was too bizarre for words. "What makes you think we can get you a meeting with him?"
"He's letting you work the same streets, ain't he? You must've gotten permission for that."
Well, more or less. Honestly, Black Canary couldn't fault the guy for his reasoning. Knowing Batman like she did, there was no way he'd let this guy on the streets without doing his due diligence. Perhaps this wasn't that bad of an idea after all.
Of course, there was just one, tiny problem.
"Hate to break it to you, but we don't have a direct line to Batman," she informed the archer. "Very few people do. It may take a little time, but we'll see if we can get a hold of him. No promises."
Green Arrow was silent for a moment. Then, "If that's the way it is, fine." That caused Canary's eyes to narrow. She had the sneaky suspicion that this guy was not going to cool his heels waiting for permission; he was going to keep up his investigation regardless what happened. It seemed he would need to be monitored.
"If you give us a way to contact you, we can let you know something as soon as possible," she ventured.
This time he nodded his acceptance. "Sure thing, Pretty Bird. What's your number?"
And suddenly she regretted her choice.
The doors were violently kicked open, large men in solid whites and black charging in armed with machine guns, the barrels aimed at the patrons and employees of the illegal establishment. Suited men froze as gun barrels singled them out, hands inches away from retrieving their guns.
Commotion in the back directed the stunned and frightened people. Without warning, several rough-looking men were shoved into the main area, running into tables and guests, creating a mess wherever they landed. Behind them, more black and white dressed men swarmed in, brandishing guns of every sort and make.
The patrons of the establishment were gasping, ducking beneath their tables for safety. Some even tried to use the poker tables. It created a lot of noise, their cries and screams of terror. So much so that the two-faced leader of these intruders entered unnoticed.
That didn't last for long when he fired the machine gun he held at the ceiling, the rapidfire shots of multiple bullets silencing everyone. It also had the added effect of bringing all attention on him. Stopping his gunfire, Two-face lowered his weapon but kept it at the ready, perfectly willing to use it again.
"Your attention," he boomed into the room. "For the next ten minutes, I'm in charge. Anybody who gets any ideas and tries to play a hero becomes a martyr." To his men, he gave his next directive, "Get all the guns and make sure there's no one hiding out. I want all Thorne's men right here."
The Two Ton Gang were quick to work, wrestling any and all gangsters into the center of the gambling den's main room. They weren't gentle about it either, occasionally decking a man here and there and leaving them crumpled on the floor.
From beside the disfigured crime lord, Min asked, "What do you want to do about them?" He gestured to the patrons and customers who continued to watch fearfully.
"Rob 'em," was the quick answer. "They knew the risks of coming here. While you're at it, find anything else these creeps are hiding. Valuables. Cash. You name it. No sense letting any of it go to waste."
"You heard the boss," Max chuckled. Then, to the not-so-innocent bystanders, "Empty your pockets, purses, whatever. We want it all. Put it on the tables or join them," he finished with a jerk of his heard towards the group of gangsters.
The sheeple were quick to pull out their wallets, obeying instantly. While Max saw to that, Min had gone over behind the bar, finding a large safe tucked away behind it.
The finding of the safe hadn't been part of the plan though. A coin toss was needed; good heads they would leave the safe alone, bad heads they'd take whatever was inside for their own. And it was bad heads. A short interrogation got them the combination and once opened, they had found the motherlode. Looked like the safe was this den's life savings.
This was turning out to be a bigger haul than planned. Still, it gave the men something to stay for, a little something extra to keep their loyalty.
"Say, that's a nice ring you have," he heard Max remark. "Don't mind if I—"
"Max," he growled, giving the twin a pointed look. Another thing that wasn't part of the plan. Should they take jewelry too along with their haul or let these bastards keep something? Turning his gaze to his coin, he gave it another flip. Bad heads. "Get all jewelry too."
"Hey!" someone protested. As Max and the men turned to the objector, Two-face gave another flip. Bad heads again. This was a night to be bad. Raising his automatic weapon up, he ended that person's life.
"Anyone else?" he asked pleasantly. When there were no further objections, Two-face calmly strolled over to the true targets of this raid. Most were glaring up at him, most likely thinking of the various ways to hurt and kill him for this.
Two-face showed no signs of being intimidated. He was far from intimidated. He stared back down at them, allow his looks to make them squeamish until one by one they began to look away.
"So, you thought you could operate on my turf without consequence," he spoke up. "Big mistake."
"This is Thorne's territory!" one of the gangster spat at him.
"And where is Thorne? That's right. Nowhere around to protect you anymore. Times have changed. Thorne's out and I'm in." Two-face didn't bother to hide his contempt for these maggots. There was no point in trying to recruit them. Truly there wasn't; their loyalty was too great. A nice virtue to have but not when it could get you killed. "If you won't get with the program, then it's time to retire you."
So what to do? He could still give them another chance to give in and become a henchman or should he flat out kill them and be done with it? He gave another flip of his coin. Good heads. "Still, I can be merciful. I'll give you one chance to join me. How about it?"
Someone literally spat at him. They weren't a good shot since their spit landed right by his feet.
"I'll take that as a no," Two-face stated calmly. "For all of you."
Ignoring protests, he gave another look to his coin. So what would he do now? He wasn't leaving without destroying this place and arson would be effective at doing that. Should he have these men killed so they didn't suffer the pain of burning alive or let them roast, screaming their lungs out? He gave another flip to the coin. Good heads. "Alright boys. Shoot'em in the heads, be quick about it. Then pour the gasoline and get ready to burn this place."
"How about them?" Max asked, gesturing to all the patrons.
A good question. One that needed the coin to answer. Should he extend mercy and let these people leave with their lives? It wasn't their fault they happened to be in this place on this night. Yet, there was a price for vice, and wasn't gambling a vice? These places were dangerous for a reason. It would send the clear message that no one was safe, and that if you wanted to live you would stay away from "businesses" that didn't belong to him. It was a good way to kill the competition. What to do? Life or death? He gave another flip and waited for the answer. Bad heads. Heh.
"Tie them all up and leave them to burn," he called out. "They knew the risks of coming. Now they have to pay."
"Are you sure about that?" Min pipped, sounding a bit disturbed.
A look from Two-face silenced him. "The coin's decided. It's out of our hands. Now get to work."
"Yes, of course boss! Whatever you say!" Min said hastily.
Two-face turned his back to the unfolding scene as the Two Ton Gang executed the renegade mobsters and tied up the panicking and screaming customers. The crime lord left the establishment as the gasoline cans were brought in and opened. Moments later, he was leaving with his men in tow as fire blazed throughout the former gambling den.
The screams of the innocents burning alive were ignored.
Author's Note: I bet no one expected a visit from the Emerald Archer. Anybody caught off by surprise? Before you think that this is just some fan service, there is a real reason why Green Arrow is here in Gotham. Also, a fun fact, when I was writing the Two-face scenes, I was flipping a coin to see what he was going to do. There were some actions I had not intended for him to do, but the coin spoke and I had to obey. With this in mind, will anybody be able to predict what'll happen in this installment?
