D. The Departure

Wayne's limo pulled up to a tall and dark building in the middle of downtown Gotham city. The rains were coming down in torrents upon the streets and Bruce was not at all eager to step outside the vehicle , despite having his own umbrella. The car door was opened for him, and a dark figure stood in front to greet him and offered his own umbrella as a courtesy.

"Bruce," the gentleman smiled.

"Mr. Haze," Wayne stepped out of the limo and dragged his umbrella from under the seat.
"Right on time, Mr. Cobblepot will be pleased."

"Heh, until I tell him I'm not selling," Bruce opened his umbrella and sheltered his head, stepping away from his 'friend'. The two walked up to the entrance of the building, the sound of the rain on their umbrellas was loud enough to shake the young millionaire from his sleepiness.

"You haven't got a thing to worry about, I assure you," the two men were now under the shelter of the entrance roof, and began to fold their umbrellas up.

Bruce noticed two things; one was that the three men that followed them were very suspicious in their presentation. They all wore black suits and from the bulge in their jackets it was evident that they were all carrying guns, which made him feel all the more uneasy about the situation he was about to get into. The second thing he noticed was that the building they were entering had no lights on, which seemed odd when the big cheese himself was present. One would think that the place would be bustling when the boss man was around, but this place was obviously vacant on the bottom floor.

"Right this way," Haze led the group down a dark hall to the even darker lobby. The grand, open area seemed as if it were a main lobby for a hotel, but the no light had been shed upon anything, and there was no one else to be seen.

"I thought we were going to his business office," Bruce kept his voice low.

"It's on the top floor, this area belongs to a different branch of their operations," Haze explained.

"What kind of things does the company deal in?"

Haze looked back at Bruce for a second and smiled, "Money, what else?"

It was a lame joke, but Bruce faked a laugh anyway. The men stopped at the elevator door and waited patiently, each keeping quiet as they thought upon the events that were soon to occur.

The sound dinged and the doors opened, allowing the men access into the shaft. The four men crowded around Wayne, as if to protect him, but this proved bothersome when the doors shut and it became apparent that this elevator was not meant to hold so many people.

"You would be right to keep mind your manors, young sir. Mr. Cobblepot is a very well liked man in this city, and some say he even plans on running for the position of mayor in the coming years. We wouldn't want to pass up possible close ties with a man like that, now, would we?" Haze spoke to Wayne as if he were a child.

"Politicians aren't my favorite people to begin with," Bruce stated ignorantly. "If this man wants my respect, he's going to have to show me his in turn."

The elevator doors opened once again and the five men walked forward down a lighted hall. Wayne was relieved to see that this area was unlit, although there did not seem to be any other workers as they passed by numerous cubicles with out of date computers on the desks. Bruce could not shake the feeling that something was wrong, but there was nothing he could do now, he was in too deep. The men stopped at the double doors at the end of the hall, which was presumably Mr. Cobblepot's office room.

"Jimmy," Haze motioned for one of the men to open the door. Jimmy stepped forward and knocked twice quickly before twisting the knob and barging in.

BANG!

One of the men shot Jimmy in the back of the head, sending his lifeless body to the ground. Before Bruce could realize what had happened, Haze grabbed his arm and threw him into the room with no lighting whatsoever. He fell to the ground hard, and spun around to face his attackers.

"Get in there, you little shit!"

When Bruce looked up from the ground into the angry associate's face, he realized that his life was about to end the exact same way that it had for his parents.

"What is this!" Wayne demanded.

"This is me taking over what is rightfully mine, " Haze stepped forward, reaching in to his jacket and pulling out a 9mm pistol. "24 years I've been with this company, always being second in command and never getting anywhere because some prick of a child just happened to fall in to the family of the dead owner."

"You want complete control over the company…" Wayne was dumbfounded. "Didn't we pay you enough?"

"Well, Bruce, enough is really only enough for a little while. I want your entire fortune, and the only way to get it is by killing you," Haze pointed the gun at the young man's head.

"You fucking"

BANG!

The bullet struck Bruce in the left side of the head, just skimming above the temple and knocking his body back to the floor but not killing him. The darkness concealed the wound, and the three men assumed he was dead. Consciousness did not escape young Bruce, though his mind fought hard to keep it together. He had to make sure they did not notice his breathing.

"Put him in the bag quickly, I'll be downstairs readying the limo," Haze ordered as he stormed out of the dark room and into the hallway. The two remaining men did as Haze commanded wordlessly while Bruce tried his best to breath very slowly, and hoped that his heavily beating heart would not give him away. His eyes were closed, and all he could hear were the sounds of the bag that he was about to be stuffed into. When one man grabbed him by the arm, he went completely limp and acted as if his body had no life within it at all. There was very little air inside the bag and he knew that soon he would run out of oxygen as he felt himself being lifted from the ground and carried over one of the men's backs. The steps helped to cover the steady in and out breathing that Bruce struggled to maintain, but he could feel the blood flowing up to his face and his head began to spin. It was by the time they had reached the elevator doors once again that he passed out.

"Hurry," came a voice through the rain when they had made it outside. The body bag was thrown in the back of the trunk and the two men rushed to get inside the limo's backseat to rejoin their boss. "Well done, gentlemen," Haze congratulated his men.

"Now whaddo we do?" one piped.

"Now we head to the central bridge and throw him over, no one will ever suspect a thing. Tomorrow, someone will find him washed up ashore, but we'll be too busy with the company to even notice he's disappeared."

"What if that Alfred guy suspects us?"

"Pennyworth? I sincerely doubt that old man could ever figure it out. Our records are clear, gentlemen. The body was never touched by our own flesh, and no other traces of anything will ever be lead back to us. The plan is foolproof."

Ten minutes later, the limo arrived at the central bridge of Gotham city, the thick torrents of rain shielded oncoming traffic completely from seeing them throw the sack over the ledge. With a quick heave ho, the body went soaring through the wet winds as it fell into the waters below. The jolt woke Bruce immediately, the lack of oxygen sent him into a troubled panic as he kicked and squirmed in the cold night waves. Water flooded the bag and Wayne knew that he was merely seconds away from death. Feeling with his fingers at the seams, he ran them up and down until he could feel an opening. He found it almost immediately, fumbling with his other hand to join with the other, he ripped with all his strength and was free to swim to the top of the waters to catch his breath and live.

The cool night air burned his lungs like fire as he struggled to keep his head above the waves. The rain came down too hard for the young man to see where he was or where he could swim to for safety. His only choice was to swim forward until he lost all strength completely, moaning in pain as his head wound stung with every splash and movement.

Tomorrow, Bruce Wayne would be dead to all.