Turning Around a Bad Situation

It was a good time to be a journalist.

There was chaos in the streets, people were terrified, the police were showing just how inept they were. It was like the old days of Mob rule, just before the wave of vigilantism that swept the city. Things had gotten rather stale after that to be honest and when there was peace, there weren't as many good stories to write.

This time, however, had a lovely little twist to it. The recent spike in gangland crime was all because of the Golden Boy of Gotham himself, the District Attorney that had vowed to rid the city of crime, Harvey Dent. His crusade for law and order had become a journey into Hell itself, dragging everyone and everything with him. He had taken over a former Mob boss' operation, killed off the opposition, and was in the midst of cementing total power for himself, all while his former partner in the police commissioner sat on his ass dumbstruck.

You couldn't make this stuff up.

Relaxing in her chair, Vicki stared at the latest article she had written, the headline boldly proclaiming, TWO-FACED MAN RULING FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF was her working title and it needed to be trimmed down to be frank. There was time for that later though, it was the article itself that was glorious. It was some of her finest work yet, even up there with her old Fries pieces.

A grunt interrupted her reverie, causing Vicki to look away from her computer. Some guy in a jumpsuit was carrying a large cardboard box, shifting it in his arms as he walked by her desk.

That time of the year already? Vicki watched the man head towards the elevators, disappearing from sight. The archive was being cleaned up it seemed. Every year or so, all the recent stories and research was collected, boxed up, and sent to be digitally scanned into their archive system. Where the physical stuff went, the redhead didn't know, but there was always a procession of middle-age jumpsuits carrying the stuff out. Somewhere in all of that was some of her work.

Meh, it wasn't worth her attention.

Looking back to her screen, the reporter began scrolling down the body, scanning it for errors or simply to add a line here or there. Speed reading through one paragraph, she found she wasn't too satisfied with it; it was like she had gone on autopilot here and put something out.

The expression on her face matched the feeling inside of her. Considering how every paper in the city was writing about Harvey Dent's betrayal, it seemed as if she were just following the herd. She needed something new, something that gripped everyone's attention and she couldn't do that by simply putting out the same hogwash as everyone else. Suddenly Vicki wasn't too high on this piece. What had she been thinking putting it up with her near-Pulitzer Prize work?

This would do for now, though. Vicki needed to hit the streets for a lead that bled. No more of this middle of the pack stuff.

Hitting the save button, the redhead minimized the prompt window. She'd come back later and send it to Editing; with any luck, she might find something worth publishing and add it to this lackluster piece.

Grabbing her purse, Vicki stood up, running a hand down her skirt to smooth out any wrinkles. It was a routine gesture nothing more. However, when she moved out from behind her desk, some idiot decided to bump right into her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, just as one of the jumpsuits dropped a box to the floor. The lid popped off the box, spilling countless photos all over the place, including onto her rather expensive pumps. There were a couple CD cases mingled in the mess as well, but that was neither here nor there.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped at the man heatedly. Even more irritating was that the man simply ignored her, kneeling down to show the mess back into the box. What, no apology? Goddamn prick.

"Are you listening to me?" Vicki demanded as she leaned towards the guy. "Hey, jumpsuit, look at me when I'm talking!"

"Lady, give it a rest," the man shot at her. "Sorry if this ruined your day, but I literally don't have any fucks to give, so shut your trap."

Red hot anger exploded throughout Vicki. How dare this knuckle-dragging clod talk to her this way?! Where the hell was Harry? She was gonna tell him all about this incident and get this asshole fired. She did not deserve to be spoken to that way and she would make it clear there better be repercussions.

She was even going to tell him as much when something caught her eye. On top of her feet were a few photos, a couple of which had their edges digging into the top of her foot. Normally Vicki would've kicked them off, but the top photo got her interest. It was of a black car, low to the ground, with distinctive fenders towards the back.

Kneeling down, Vicki picked up the picture for a better look. The quality was okay, but then it didn't need to be great either to know that it was a shot of the Batmobile. Hell, every Gothamite knew that car by sight.

Which brought up her Batman investigation. Because of Dent's turn to the dark side, she had shelved that story for the fresher one. In fact, the redhead was hard-pressed to remember the last time she had made headway with it. That would need to change; in fact, she needed to call up Simon to get an update on his end of things.

Staring at the photo, something seemed off about it. Staring at it, it took a while before Vicki realized there was someone standing next to the Batmobile. They were dressed in black, thin, and that was about it. Dark-colored hair, maybe? The only spot of color aside from black was their face and it was definitely young.

Vicki's brow furrowed. "How old is this picture?" she asked.

Surprisingly, the jumpsuit answered her. "A couple years, I think. It's from that alien invasion."

The reporter continued to stare at the photograph. "Is this entire box from that time?"

Out of the corner of her eye, the man shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so. Not sure."

It took a moment for Vicki to ponder this, then come to a decision. "Can I look through all of this? I just need a day or so."

She was willing to put on her feminine wiles, even if this guy looked like he could be her father. It wasn't something she was proud to stoop to, but if it was called for she was more than willing to do it. Much to her surprise though, the guy just looked at her, considered what she asked and if she was serious about then, then abruptly stood up, stopping his task. "It's all yours, lady," he grunted before he trudged back the way he came.

Watching him go, Vicki felt slightly annoyed that the bozo didn't finish his job and put all the pictures back. Asshole. Placing her prized photo on her desk, the redhead quickly scooped up all the photos and CD tapes and dropped them in the box. It took multiple scoops, several minutes of her time, but she did it. Pushing the box up against her desk, she then stood up and made to sit back in her chair.

Opening a drawer, Vicki combed through all the files in there until she found the one she wanted. Pulling it out, she slapped it down on her desk and opened it. Papers, notes, and pictures were piled into the folder, which ignored all but the pictures. Rifling through them, she searched for one in particular, finding it soon after.

In her hand was the picture Simon Belford had taken at Wayne Manor, the one of a girl seen opening the drapes to one of its many rooms. Picking up the one of the Batmobile, Vicki held each picture next to each other, glancing back and forth as she looked for any commonalities.

The corner of her mouth twitched up. It was a little difficult, not something she'd want to use in a court of law, but Vicki was certain the girl at Wayne Manor was the same one standing next to the Batmobile. If she wasn't mistaken, after the alien invasion, a Batgirl had been reported scouring the night with the Batman.

This couldn't be coincidence.

Sadly, as Vicki recalled, Simon hadn't found any history on the girl. As he had put it, she just appeared out of thin air. As disappointing as that was, it was okay for now. The reporter had a pretty good link between this girl and Batgirl; and if she was staying with Bruce Wayne, that only confirmed her suspicions of his night life.

It seemed she needed to get back to that story.


"...and that will close us at the quarter with another net loss," the board member reported calmly. His fingers clutching at the paper, causing it to wrinkle slightly was the only sign of his anxiety.

Once again, Bruce found himself cursing Hugo Strange. There was also some venom towards Vicki Vale, but without Strange, the reporter never would've had the material to write the story she had. Once word got out about Dr. Kirk Langstrom's Bat experiments, however, Wayne Enterprises had been hit with a tidal wave of bad press, a significant drop in profits, and lost business.

As you can imagine, all of this had not slipped underneath the noses of the Wayne Enterprises Board of Directors.

This marked the eighth straight month of lost revenue and business, and the second quarterly report of negative sales and a drop in stocks. It didn't need to be said that this would be the first of many to come such reports to come in the coming months.

"Shareholders are starting to lose faith in us," Lauren Granger remarked. "We need to get a handle on this quickly, or our stocks are going to tank worse than they already are."

"And they're already at the lowest levels we've seen in a decade," William Dithers proclaimed. The Cryptkeeper's face was beginning to take on a red hue, a sign of his anger. It was actually amazing that he was still on the board considering everything that had happened. Bruce had been sure the man would've had a heart attack long before now, especially since he nitpicked at damn near every little detail.

"It wouldn't be the first time there's been a drop like this. Wayne Enterprises has been around for so long that it has faced such times before," Lincoln March pointed out. "All we need is the right plan to turn it around."

Despite the fiasco happening at the Wayne Pharmaceutical branch, March had risen through the ranks with tenacity and persistence and had just joined the board last month. No part of Bruce wasn't impressed by this. In fact, he felt that if given the right persuasion, March would become a great asset on the board.

Of course, at the mention of plan, all eyes turned to Lucius Fox. This was expected to be honest. It was widely believed Fox ran the company, so rarely did anyone expect Bruce Wayne to lead a stunning comeback from a scandal. Nevertheless, that hadn't stopped the man from trying to include Bruce in the company's day-to-day operations. Unfortunately, with the fallout from Strange, that plan had failed spectacularly. So focused on cleaning it up, Bruce had once again been neglecting his duties to the company, much to the older man's chagrin.

Lucius sighed in his seat, a sign of his fatigue with the entire matter. "In the long term, accepting responsibility for this mess is the right way to go," he said.

"But that will kill us!" Dither exclaimed, nearly shooting out of his chair. "Wayne Enterprises won't have a long term future if it's killed by this!"

"I see Dithers is in rare form," March muttered to Bruce, causing a small smirk to appear on his face. It was strange how comfortable the young man had gotten with March at these board meetings in such a short amount of time. They routinely joked about the others members as if they were long-time friends. In fact, it had been a long time since he had done so.

"Maybe this is what stops him from having a future," the billionaire whispered backed.

"If only," March joked back.

"Dithers, you know as well as I do if we deny and stall on this, it will only drag this out," Lucius responded measuredly. "The sooner we acknowledge responsibility, the sooner we can put this behind us. We just need to highlight some of our older product lines and keep the public informed of our audits in R&D. Things will be uncomfortable, but that's just how we're going to have to ride this out."

"Some good publicity wouldn't hurt either," March suggested.

Dithers snorted. "And who would give us a chance now? Do I have to remind you that many of our old business partners are withdrawing their business from us? No one will touch us with a thirty foot pole!"

"Then we do something to appeal to the public directly," the other man countered. "Charities aren't going to refuse our donations; they can't afford to. We just need to get the right one with enough clout and exposure to give us a good start."

"That does have merit," Granger agreed.

Lucius was silent during this exchange. However, there was a twinkle in his eyes that hinted that a plan was forming. "I think I know just the group," he said, earning himself the attention of the room. "With all of the recent losses with the GCPD, City Hall is hosting a fundraiser for them to hire more staff and show their support. A hefty check there should help out."

That sounded good to Bruce. Yet, he had a nagging thought, one that told him there was something else going on here.

"You're talking about that party where the Mayor invited the Justice League for their support, right?" Brian Jennings asked.

And that explained the nagging feeling. With all that had happened in Gotham lately, Mayor Grange was trying to score some points with the law and order crowd and somehow managed to get the Justice League to agree to attend. Superman had informed him on the invite and of the League's acceptance of said invitation. It wasn't something he took much joy in, but he hadn't seen any reason to try and dissuade them.

"That's the one," Lucius acknowledged. "Which means we need our own representative there." It was then Lucius looked right at Bruce. It didn't need to be said between the two men that the PR agent would not be attending this.

Which meant it was time for Bruce to step up to the plate, no matter how reluctant he was. "I suppose I can get a suit ironed by them," he spoke up flippantly.

"You want to send Bruce on something this important?" the Cryptkeeper all but exploded. "His going will all but ensure no one will take us seriously!"

"And if we send you, we're just signaling how desperate we are for good press," Bruce couldn't help but say back. It was snarky and it would've been best if he had kept that to himself, but as of right now his reputation with the Board was not in a good place. He could get away with sounding petulant.

"Now, now, no need to be attacking each other," Lucius admonished them. "We're getting enough of that from outside the company; no need to do it amongst ourselves. I do think it should be Bruce that does go, though. We need to show we are engaged in this and no matter his reputation, people will take notice if he shows up or not."

That was when March reached a hand out and clasped Bruce's shoulder. "Looks like you're going to get to meet the Justice League. I hope you're going stag because I'd love to hear how you chat up Wonder Woman."

The collective groan from the rest of the board showed just how they felt about that.


Sarah gave a short whistle, deliberately wanting the attention of her target.

"I'm not a dog, whistle at somebody else!" Bullock scowled at her.

Attention had been obtained.

"How you holding up, Harv? You look a bit stressed out," she commented as she stood by the lieutenant's perpetually messy desk. She'd say it resembled Jim's but her husband had some kind of order to his chaos. Harvey Bullock didn't.

"Worried about my health? I'm touched. What'cha want?" Bullock replied. "If you want to dump some work on me, I'll give you the same answer I gave the last guy: fat chance. I'm buried up to my ears as it is. Take a wild guess why."

"Now Harvey," chastised a Hispanic woman. "I don't think Lieutenant Gordon is here to pick a fight with you. It looks like she wants something."

"Everybody wants something, Rook," Bullock retorted. "Nobody ever asks what I want. And in case you were wondering, it's a nice ribeye steak, medium rare. Gotta have pink in it or somebody's gonna be hurt."

"Right," deadpanned Montoya. Even though she was no longer his partner or a rookie and had gone on to do some impressive investigating and work, Bullock continued to call her "Rook." Why he continued to do that, Sarah had no idea and figured she probably didn't want to. That man was one of a kind.

"Maybe another time, Harvey," she said wryly. "In the meantime, maybe you'd like a lighter caseload."

"I'm listening," Bullock said, his complete undivided attention on her.

"The commissioner wants to open a new task force and has tapped me to lead it. He's gone over to Mayor Grange to get her support," Sarah explained.

"I can guess who the target is," Harvey grumbled.

"If your guess is our former district attorney, then you're dead on the money," Sarah confirmed. "Right now, I'm recruiting. The commissioner has authorized anybody who is on the force will only work on that case."

"That sounds just lovely, 'cept I was in charge of my own task force once. It's just trading a truckload of work for another truckload of work. Nothing changes," Bullock snarked. "You need to be a better salesperson, lieutenant. You want to lead a task force, you need the most experienced people you can find, not a bunch of greenhorns who'll jump at the chance."

"So I take that as a no?" Sarah summed up, feeling a bit disappointed. For all his faults, one thing positive about Bullock was that he was dedicated. You pointed out who you wanted and he went after them like a snarling junkyard dog. That kind of reliability was something that she had wanted as one other virtue he had was keeping people in line, or at least shaming them into doing it.

"I'll help," Montoya stated, standing up straight.

Well at least there was one dependable person. Montoya's intelligence and keen insight would be greatly valued. Puzzling out patterns was something that came natural to her and being able to predict what their quarry may do would be invaluable.

"Now hold on there. I didn't say anything about a no," Bullock spoke up. "If there's one thing I have learned, you need dependable people working with you, somebody who's not going to go off the rails and in the wrong direction. Lady, you need me."

Sarah began frowning because instead of getting to his feet, Bullock slouched back in his seat, looking up at her expectantly.

"And what is holding you back?" she asked warily.

He had the nerve to smirk up at her. "You didn't say the magic word."

Sarah blinked. "The magic word?"

"You know."

"No I don't know. What's the magic word?"

Bullock's eyes widened innocently. "Please."

"Harv," Montoya groaned.

"Ah, I'll let you off the hook just this once. Get the com'mish to make his announcement and I'll be there ready to shoulder the load. Trust me, you'll need it." Bullock nodded solemnly at her, making this all the more surreal.

"Thanks," she said. Why was it after all these years, it was Bullock who could surprise her like this?

By her count, she had two recruits for this task force, both of whom she knew had proven track records of both loyalty and dedication. They'd be supportive of the aims of this investigation and provide a unifying force, both appealing to different parts of the department. It also didn't hurt they were firmly in Jim's corner on most occasions.

Sarah's work was far from over, though. She had a list of officers and detectives she needed to speak to for recruitment purposes. There were some she had her doubts about, but she would extend the invitation anyway.

Right now, with how the streets were being taken from them, the police force needed to fight back. They needed to pull themselves out of their shock and complacency to do what they were supposed to do. Protect and serve the people. Everybody was scared, and she understood it, but that was why they were here, enforcing law and order.

Yes, the person responsible used to be an ally, but as far as she was concerned, he was another criminal that needed to be apprehended. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth doing was.

The fight to take back Gotham was only beginning. This task force was going to be the first wave of retaliation. Sarah was determined and would not let it end in disaster.

Because in the end, it was their job to fight for the city, no matter if they had helping hands from vigilantes.


After all these years, Gordon knew his way through City Hall better than he wanted to. How many times had he walked these halls again? Too many was the simple and short answer. The people here may change, depending on elections and the random attempts on their lives, but the halls and offices were always the same.

How many mayors had he met here? They were beginning to run together at this point. He did know that Marion Grange was the current mayor. She was also the one that had least called him to meet her in his office. The ones before it was almost a weekly basis with them. Grange was content with a hands-off approach towards City Hall-Police relations. So long as they made her administration look good, she didn't care how he ran the department.

Which made his trip here unusual. Typically he was called here. This time he was here on his own terms. He needed Grange's full support with the task force. That would mean an increase in the department's budget as most had been spent trying and failing to clean up after the city's newest crime lord. He also needed political support, if only so that there was little pressure from those who would cry nepotism at his naming Sarah in charge of the task force.

Gordon hoped that Grange was as desperate as he was right now to end this chaos. However, he needed to be careful. In the past, Grange had proven to be quite shrewd. There was a very good possibility that she would get more out of him than he intended.

Reaching the mayor's office, and letting the receptionist know that he had arrived, Gordon waited to be called in. He took that time to ready himself until the summons came.

Grange was at her desk, eyes cast downwards, her arm moving with the tale-tell motions of writing. Her mane of gray hair was pulled back to keep stray locks out of her face. She didn't look up when she greeted, "Take a seat Gordon. I'll be with you in a moment. Close the door while you're at it."

Gordon shut the doors to her office and walked over to the pair of chairs strategically placed before the large, mayoral desk. He made himself as comfortable as possible until the mayor finished what she was doing and sat straight up.

"We'll have to make this short, Gordon. I have a meeting in twenty minutes and you can guess what it's about. Tell me what you're doing about Harvey Dent."

Well, that saved him the trouble of trying to make short talk. "I'm in the process of forming a task force. Any and all available resources I can spare are being diverted towards it. Unfortunately, it's not as much as I'd like-"

"So you want a bigger budget to account for it," Grange cut him off. "I'll bring it up at the meeting and have it rubber stamped. Thank you Commissioner, you've given me something to bring up and saved me from accusations of incompetence, however late it might be."

Huh. This was going better than he had thought. Gordon had believed that it would have taken some time convincing Grange to come aboard. That's what he had to do with mayors that had come before. A very pleasant surprise, this was. But he wasn't done. Not yet. There was still that one detail he needed to talk with her about.

"There's one more thing I need to speak with you about," Gordon said.

"Speak," came the command.

"The person I want to lead the task force is Lieutenant Sarah Gordon. I want to assure you that she is perfectly qualified for the position, but I am also aware that it might cause some problems," the commissioner explained. "I need your support in allowing her this position."

"You've already figured on the charges of nepotism," Grange said wryly. "I do agree that your wife is qualified. However, my concern is less about her and more about you. I do know that you used to have a close working relationship with our rogue DA. I'd imagine that someone would bring up the possibility of you using your wife's position as a way to keep tabs on the task force's developments. And with your past relationship with Dent, you could be accused of helping the enemy."

"Who would get an stupid idea like that?" Gordon nearly growled out.

"Let's not forget that you still have enemies. Some of them are mine," Grange remarked. "Since everyone's been too busy with Dent's crime wave, there haven't been as many accusations of cronyism or corruption. You putting your wife in charge of a task force might be putting fuel onto that particular fire. I would rather avoid such a pitfall, thank you very much."

"Can you name anybody who would be up to the task?" Gordon retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fortunately for you, the people I would list happen to be dead, courtesy of Dent," answered Grange.

"Sarah will get the job done. Unlike others, she will not get distracted and try to fulfill some ulterior agenda," Gordon continued to argue. "She has her record. It's solid. I'll give you a copy of it if you want. She is who I want to lead the task force and you can't convince me that there is a better person for it."

"Gordon, you seem to be under the idea that I'm against her," Grange stated. "I'm not. I'm looking at this from all points of view. I have to if I want to deal with the group of snakes that make up Gotham's City Council. So here's what you'll do. Head over to the DA's offices. If you want your wife to lead the task force, we'll need a neutral party, one to back her up. Kate Spencer may be interim at the moment, but she will do as our objective voice."

Gordon nodded at that. It made sense, too much sense. Even when Gotham was being torn apart, there were still people trying to play politics. How did these people keep being elected?

"If I were you, I'd head over to Spencer right now," Grange recommended. "The sooner you can convince her, the better I can make my arguments. If we're to set up this task force and get the budget necessary for it, that's what we need to do."

"Then expect a call from her shortly," the commissioner promised.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish up making preparations for tonight's fundraiser. You did get that invite, correct?" The mayor had already looked away from him, a sign of dismissal when she asked her question.

"You'll have to remind me about it," Gordon said as he stood up, eager to leave.

"I've invited the Justice League to pay our city a visit. Hopefully their temporary presence will be enough to give Dent pause, long enough that we can make some headway against him," Grange explained. "I believe it would be in your best interest to attend as well."

It sounded like a publicity stunt. Even if Grange had gotten the Justice League to come down here, for what reason would they have to quell Gotham's problem with a two-faced crime lord? The Justice League took on threats that were more global; a single city's problems weren't enough for them to make any kind of overt intervention.

To Gordon, this sounded like a ploy for some positive PR. It was the mayor playing politics too. So long as she wasn't working against him, she could do what she wanted.

He had a task force to create.