Chapter 6

"I don't know how you can honestly talk about Roman Falcone as if he's not as bad as the Riddler or Black Mask. He was organized crime in this city a long time before anyone else could get a handle on how to organize. He's maintained above ground businesses for as long as he's run his criminal empire underground, and he's kept so many politicians and judges in his pocket that no one, and I repeat, nobody, could put him away if they tried. The closest anybody has come to replicating Falcone's success, as an organized criminal empire, has been Black Mask and his False Face Society. On a long list of people I'd like to put away, though, Falcone was always on top. Joker might be crazier, and guys like Mad Hatter or Riddler give you the creeps with some of what they do, but Falcone was never somebody to underestimate."

-James Gordon

A trash can burned brightly in the night, the fire pouring from its mouth spitting small embers that drifted upward into the night sky, illuminating the grimy faces of those that stood nearby, hands outstretches toward the warmth of the flame. It was a nightly ritual in Old Gotham, a product of the cold nights that came as the stars ignited, the sun drifting beyond the western horizon as all the lights of the city suddenly sprang to life. Far above the rooftops of the dilapidated structures of Old Gotham, the towering skyscrapers of glass and steel burned with a vibrancy that was missing in the old city. New Gotham was a dream, a place beyond men and women like those that stood around the fire, bodies draped in worn trench coats and newsie caps that were pulled tightly down over their foreheads.

"What's the word tonight," a voice spoke into the quiet, a new figure pulling up to the can, his smile flashing between members of the circle. They welcomed him with smiles of their own, raising hands in greeting and welcoming him among them. Flophouse Jack was an old acquaintance of the people in this area, always good company and good for information.

"Not too much new, Flophouse. Another day, another dollar I didn't make."

"Sorry to hear that Ben," he returned, tucking his jacket tightly around his frame. "I'd hoped things had gotten better."

"Yeah, you disappear for a while. We get worried about you," said another voice, thought it too was cheerful.

Jack shrugged, looking across the circle. "What can I say guys? I go wherever I can earn myself a few bucks. I try to avoid spending my nights out here in the alleys, no offense."

"None taken," he responded, a few of them chuckling at Jack. After all, if any of them could, they'd be out of the alleys and streets in a second, off to warmer homes. "I've spent a few nights over at the Wayne Shelter the last week, but tonight they were all booked up. If I could have gotten off work just a bit earlier, I might have made it in time to get a bed but hey…" He shook his head, holding his hands up. "What can a man do?"

"I hear that. Guess that's why we all end up having to split time with… well, you know."

There was another round of nods to this, though everyone remained slightly quiet. Each knew what was being referenced, but conversation about it didn't come easily, at least not all the time. Their faces flashed with moments of nervous anxiety whenever the topic came up, but it had to come up, at least some of the time. "Yeah you know," one person finally began to add, speaking slowly and only with hesitation, "I've been hearing a couple of things. Lots of hiring going down on the east side, down by the waterfront. Lot of work if you're okay being some muscle."

Another man nodded, though there was a sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, I've been hearing the same thing. I just don't know if I want to be putting my neck on the line again like that. I was okay with it the first few times, when I was younger… just…" He stopped for a moment, eyes pinned to the fire. "Just working for guys like that can get you killed."

A round of agreement came in unison to the sentiment, each man shaking their head. Jack agreed, but look bothered. "I know it's not the best work around, but if you keep your head down, and try not to get involved with anybody too crazy… like the Joker…"

"Hell no!" shot one man back, laughing. "No way I'd ever work for him. But I mean, the guys hiring right now…"

"I've heard something about this," Jack added, looking to his right. "Hear Great White Shark was trying to pull extra muscle for some of his warehouses."

"Heard the same thing."

"Anybody else hiring?"

"Penguin's in on it for sure. Been hearing nothing out of his gang lately except how they're planning to make a push back against Black Mask. Mask's been trying to buy up everything out on the waterfront, and not everybody's taking a liking to it."

Jack frowned, rubbing his hands together and generating just enough friction to keep them warm. "Black Mask. Great White. Penguin. Lots of rich guys in on this."

"Hey, you know I've been hearing something else on the street," chipped in one of the women who stood there, her fingers brushing some of the hair from her face. "I didn't know how to take it since I didn't even know he was out of prison, but apparently Lew Moxon's been sighted in the area, and he's been traveling with some heavy duty guards. Guess that's not surprising since he used to run half of the east stretch here in Old Gotham, but he's out of jail now, and I don't think he's wandering around here just for nothing. Lew's got something up his sleeve."

"I don't like the sound of it," Jack said, taking a nervous peek over his shoulder, as if he expected one of these criminals to suddenly pop up. "Lew's part of the old order, before guys like Joker and Two-Face showed up. He got outplayed at his own game, and if he's trying to get back in on the business out on the waterfront…"

"Yeah, I know. It's already squeezed as it is. One more player is just going to make the whole place explode."

"That's what I'm scared of." He tucked his hands away, stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket as he took a step back from the trash can. "Hey, I'm going to cut this short guys, not feeling so good about things happening out here on the streets. Got me worried."

"I don't blame you. Take care of yourself?"

He nodded, yanking a hand out quickly and waving at them as he stepped away. "All of you, too. Don't get yourself caught up in trouble you don't need. I want to see all of your around here again soon."

They tossed him cheerful goodbyes as he stepped away, vanishing into the rolling fog that came during the Gotham nights, its hazy mists plunging between buildings in the alley and consuming his figure in its impenetrable hold. His hand drifted up to his ear, pressing lightly on the small device contained just within. "We have a problem."

"So I took it," came back Oracle, her voice tense. "You've got a lot of big names playing for the waterfront."

"I don't get it. Vega owns the whole operation out there. It doesn't matter how much guys like Black Mask and White Shark try to buy their way into the trade out there, Vega's got the majority of it in his pocket. Sure they'll get some money out of it, and they're going to make enough profit just off some of the factories and plants they've bought up, but the big money is in trade and that's Vega's, legitimately. As far as I know he's above board, and he's got lucrative deals with companies like LexCorp. He doesn't need to deal with Shark or Mask."

"You think they're playing for the trade business in Old Gotham?"

"I don't see what else they could be aiming for. New Gotham is being built on the profits from that business, and Vega's got cash that guys like Great White could only dream of. They want in."

"So they're trying to muscle each other for what's left of the trading business."

"Right, and once someone comes out on top, or they get tired of going at each other, someone's going to go after Vega. There's no way they let him keep operating that business legally."

"I've got a meeting with my dad in the morning. He's been putting together a new team to target the organized groups in Gotham, so I think he'd be naturally interested in guys like Black Mask and Great White. He's certainly interested in the Penguin. I'll see what we can do about getting Vega some security too. Just, one last thing."

Bruce shook his head, already knowing what she had to ask. "Lew Moxon. Don't remind me. That's a ghost from the past I'd rather not have to deal with."

"When Falcone was running things, he was a huge mob boss. He kept Falcone on his toes and operated half the plants, factories and warehouses in the east stretch of Gotham."

"I know."

"And… and even though it turned out not to be true, we did have that… suspicion about him."

Bruce came to a stop, his own hands barely visible in the fog. "It turned out he wasn't tied to the deaths of my parents."

"Something you found out from a criminal you're not even sure you can entirely trust."

"I believed it then and I believe it now. Besides, I'm not interested in reopening old suspicions. We need to focus on what's in front of us. We know Lew Moxon is back, and we know he's running around Old Gotham, even if we don't know what for. We're going to have to find out what he's up to."

"Yeah, sorry. I'll see what I can dig up on him when I'm pulling profiles on our other suspects."

"Thanks. Let me know as soon as you find out what Moxon's been doing the last few years since he got out of Blackwater."

"You got it."


Jim Gordon stood before his newly assembled team of special responders, their LX-100s locked in special cases just feet away, where Harvey Bullock, his large frame and massive gut leaning against the security releases that prevented ease of access. Jim stood before a whiteboard, three mugshots, blown up large enough for the team to see, hanging behind him. His finger drifted to the first, of a man whose face was pale white, with large, sharpened teeth and receded eyes. "Warren White, A.K.A. the Great White Shark. Originally a wealthy stock broker and financier, he was brought up on accusations of embezzlement. Now, we all know how hard it is to get the insanity plea to stick, but White had enough money to buy him time outside of prison and in Arkham Asylum. Turns out it was a bad move for him. After a short stint that left him physically beaten and tortured on several occasions, he was imprisoned in Mr. Freeze's cold cell. The effect, as you can see, was extensive. The frostbite caused not only the loss of all his body hair, but a seemingly permanent condition in his skin that leaves it anywhere from gray to pale white. Following that incident, White actually did go insane. Those sharpened teeth are a result of surgery, not a result of his encounter in the freeze unit, and he did it to make his overall look more consistent with that of a Great White Shark." Gordon shrugged. "A loon, but one with a lot of money at his disposal, and probably the best businessman in the criminal underground right now. He's got the resources, but not the experience dealing with other of Gotham's criminals on a regular basis, since he's one of the newest arrivals to the city's crime scene. That leaves him vulnerable. Still, he's got the money to buy men, weapons and to expand his financial empire. He's not to be trifled with."

Gordon thrust his hand back up to the board, this time to the middle photo. "Roman Sionis, A.K.A. The Black Mask. Sionis has been with us a lot longer than White, and like White, he's got a background in business that has helped him rapidly expand his empire. We suspect him of also maintaining above ground businesses in tandem with his underground operations, and don't take his fortune, made while he worked for a cosmetic corporation, as something to laugh at. Sionis has quickly become one of the wealthiest and aggressive criminals in the Gotham crime scene. Whatever mental break Sionis had, in the years following he's maintained an incredible business acumen, and an ability to identify the weaknesses of his opponents. Like White, he knows where to invest, and get his returns. Unlike White, he has experience, and is a lethal combatant. Black Mask is a master of disguises and goes undetected for long periods using his ability to meld into the city's population. It allows him to run multiple businesses under a variety of guises, and so far he has evaded tracking for that reason. When running his organization, he most normally wears the skull like black mask that he gets his name from. His False Face Society is a lethal criminal organization, and at least twice they've rivaled the old Falcone empire in terms of scope and revenue. In addition, he's known to be a lethal hand to hand combatant, able to hold his own against Gotham's vigilantes such as Nightwing and Batman. Finally, his accuracy with two pistols is such that he rivals the accuracy of a marksman such as Deadshot. Under no circumstances can I understate this: Roman Sionis may be the greatest threat we currently face in Gotham."

Jim turned a final time, gesturing to the final photo, a crazed old man in a top hat staring with dead eyes toward the camera. "Finally, there's not a man here who should not know about Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, A.K.A. The Penguin. One of Gotham's oldest and ruthless criminals, Cobblepot's roots go all the way back to the early era, from the time of the Falcone empire. At the time we were unaware of his underground operations, and knew him mostly from the Iceberg Lounge, which served the general public of the city and generated substantial revenues for Penguin, while also serving as an underground lounge for the criminal elite of the city. Cobblepot is distinct from the other two men on this list. While valid arguments exist that both Great White and Black Mask are insane due to the types of trauma inflicted upon them, Cobblepot has never been considered mad by the same measure. He's a shrewd businessman, principled to a degree, still attempts to generate public respect for his above ground persona, and operates in the underground with a stealthy hand. He makes a massive income serving as a go between for other Gotham criminals, facilitates trades and transactions, fences rare and valuable antiques and merchandise, operates a massive drug trade, and any other number of businesses. The biggest distinction between Penguin and men like Sionis is Penguin's reluctance to get into all out wars with other criminal leaders in the city. Penguin has the genius to undermine the economic fortunes of even men like Great White, which says something about this man's intelligence. The fact that we now suspect he is becoming aggressive in expanding into the waterfront means he must be getting concerned about his financial holdings. If so, then we know something big is happening in Old Gotham."

Jim sighed, looking from man to man, hands resting at his waist as he slowly paced back and forth between them. "When we first began to bring this group together, it wasn't only because we needed muscle to go toe to toe with the gangs that men like Sionis are running. What I asked for, and what I believe, today, that I have received, is a group of men that will not compromise or bend. I believe you will all uphold the law even under duress." His hand pulled at his coat, the badge at his hip flashing in the dim light. "This is a symbol. It embodies everything we represent, everything we stand for, and all the values we must show. Nobody is above the law, and we cannot compromise with men who think they are. I believe each and every one of you has been screened and tested by a psychologist from the Menger Institute." He chuckled, waving a hand in the air. "Look, I'll be damned if I know what that is. What I know is that the department contracted the best shrinks around to run you through, make sure you value upholding the law just as much as I do. Maybe more," he said, grinning. "So I know you won't back down. You won't take bribes. You won't let men get away with breaking the rules that govern this city. You'll be brave, when other men would shrink away. You have the heart, the principles, and the dedication."

He paused a moment, glancing from face to face. "Outside of me, you'll also be reporting to Detective Bullock. You may have seen him around the department, and you may know him for his rough reputation, but there are few men I'd rather have at my side. He's had his troubles. Hell, we all have. We're in this room because we've earned our way here, because we've shown we will stand up to the criminals trying to take our city away from us. If you have any questions, or anything to report, going to Harvey is as good as coming to me."

Jim came to a halt In the middle of the room, pointing upward, into the police department above. "Now, there is one other man you need to be aware of. Rick Sandras is our tech guy, the one coordinating our signals, our weapons, everything. All of what we're using is cutting edge stuff. Yeah, they've been using it in Metropolis for a while now, but then again they've got an alien problem over there. The weapons we've been given will fire clear through a building at maximum setting, so we've all been trained on their uses. We can't afford screw-ups with these. One wrong blast, and that's a life lost. The battle gear we're going in with, on the other hand, is Wayne Tech stuff. The helmets we're wearing provide enhanced vision and targeting, and it's linked to your weapons. Communication is relayed through Rick who records everything we do and say. Sort of helps to cover our asses, in case anyone tries to accuse us of abuse. He's in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly, and while I don't think you'll have to be in touch with him for any reason, just know that he's the guy when it comes to the hardware."

The commissioner sucked in a deep breath as he tried to wrap up the speech. "Now, as far our immediate priorities? Given the nature of the conflict out in Old Gotham, we're going to start doing some investigating, try and track down where our targets are. Once we've got a solid location, we move in, clean and quick. Our hardware gives us an advantage against superior numbers, but we have to use restraint, and we can't just jump in to the arrest. I don't want just one of these guys, gentlemen. I want them all, and we're going to need evidence. Sionis we can wrap up because his rap sheet's established, but Penguin? He's been keeping his nose clean enough that we can't easily nail him, so we're going to have to tie him to what's going on. Same with White. White's too new and we don't have a case on him outside of the old embezzlement charge, and even that was commuted following the incident in Arkham. So we need to get hard evidence on him and the operations we suspect him of running. That means tying each one of them to the gangs they're operating, the violence being committed, not to mention all the illegal activities they're engaged in. As a final wrinkle, we have to worry about Mr. Vega, who's basically running the trade business in Gotham these days. The criminals we're targeted are going after the area of business he runs, so we need to keep tabs on him and just make sure he's okay. I'm not losing anyone else to these criminals."

He waved his hand in the air. "Anyway, that's the rundown. Check with Harvey for your individual assignments, because each of you has to tackle one element or another of these operations. It's not a small task, or an easy one. Then again, you knew that when you signed up. I'm looking forward to seeing the results we get from our group."


A glove clad hand pointed downward at a map of Old Gotham, crisscrossing its surface a few times, drawing out boundaries. "This, here? Penguin's territory. Over here…" the finger moved again, deeper into the city. "Great White's. Now, this large chunk, right on the waterfront?" His hand shifted a final time. "Black Mask's. It should be no surprise that he has the best real estate given what he's done over the years. There are, of course, some wrinkles to this map. Two-Face has shown some aggression, trying to match everyone else's moves, so his territory is expanding a bit here and there. You've also got the remnants of Falcone's shipping empire in spots on the waterfront, but he hasn't been the same since Gordon, Dent and the Batman sent him into prison. Of course all of their properties together don't match Vega's holdings, which are the single largest stretch of warehouses, ports and shipping vessels in the city at this juncture."

The gloved hand withdrew, bathed in shadows that were born from only the dim light glowing in the hearth's fire. "The problem at hand is controlling the violence that may erupt. I understand the terms of what I've been hired to do, and I don't see any problem in the plan, per se. To be honest with you, it wouldn't matter to me whether or not it was working. I'd still manage to fulfill my end of the bargain. After all, I always do. I'm merely stating an obvious fact. There are a lot of players in the game, a lot of pieces on the board, and you can't always predict the outcome."

The man shrugged, his broad, strong arms crossing in front of his chest, masked features providing no sense of what he was feeling. "All that said? I'm looking forward to it. There's little in the world to make a man feel alive like a good fight, and that's all I can see coming out of this scenario, regardless of how it plays out. Whether you're completely satisfied with the end result, I don't know. I do have to say your ambitious, and not entirely what I expected. I don't ask questions, though. I just do my job. I'm hoping that over the next few days you are happy with the end results." He shrugged once more as he turned away, back toward the table on which the map was strewn. "And if you're not, I won't care. I'll get my end completed, like I said. If all this you've set in motion turns to ruin, you'll only have yourself to blame. I suppose we'll find out soon enough."