This was not a place Essen expected she would be entering, at least without an arrest warrent. In fact, she had little clue as to why she was entering Elliot Pharmaceuticals based only on an "anonymous tip" that the commissioner had received. The only instructions she had were to question EP's representative about any experimental products it had and how they could be involved with the creature that had attacked Wayne Enterprises the day before.
That made it sound like a case of corporate sabotage, though this was certainly the strangest way to do it. She was having a little trouble wrapping her mind around it, but nevertheless she was going to stick to the talking points as given to her by Jim—the commissioner.
She needed to remember to call him that instead of by his name. She didn't want to give anyone any ideas—others or herself, she did not know at the moment. She was definitely sure about Bullock though. His teasing alone was enough to keep him out of the loop.
The front desk was her destination in the headquarters of Elliot Pharmaceuticals. The lobby itself was massive, like Wayne Enterprises, and had all the trimmings to boot. Naturally there was a different color scheme, architecture, and...and a fountain it seemed, but other than that, once you've been in a place like this you've been in them all. She could hear the sound of her footsteps echoing throughout the lobby as she approached the front desk, the receptionist busying herself with a phone call.
"Excuse me, I'm Lieutenant Susan Essen from the Gotham City Police Department. I'm here for an appointment with a Phillip Freeman," she spoke to the young woman when it appeared that she was not busy on the phone. To make sure there was no mistake in her identity, she flashed her badge long enough for the receptionist to get a look at it.
"Oh, let me see if he's in," the young woman told her, picking up the phone receiver and punching in the extension number.
In her mind, Essen thought that the man should be here. It wasn't often that the police decide to pay a person a visit, especially if they needed to ask that person some questions. The lieutenant glanced around the lobby, waiting to get a reply back from the receptionist.
"He'll be right down, if you'll wait over there," the secretary spoke up, pointing a long, manicured nail to a row of couches.
"Thanks," the female detective said. While she stepped away from the front desk, she did not take a seat. That wasn't to say that the furniture didn't look comfortable, but she was not really in the mood for leather. Never really liked the material.
Thus she waited several minutes until she was approached by a middle-aged, balding man who was dressed smartly in a business suit. "Are you Lieutenant Essen?" the man asked.
"Depends. Are you Phillip Freeman?" she asked back, pulling her badge out once more.
"Huh. Thought you were a man." That comment struck a nerve in the lieutenant. "Susan should have given have given me your first name."
Susan? Common enough name, she supposed. "Let me guess, your secretary? And she only informed you that you have a meeting with me."
"A practice that will be corrected in the future," Mr. Freeman assured her. "That will go for Jennifer over there as well. Now if you'll follow me, we'll go someplace more private so we can get this all out of the way."
Essen nodded, but said nothing else as she followed the executive. So far he seemed chauvinistic, but it was not her place to say what this man was without further evidence. Didn't mean she had to like what he said, though.
The journey from the front desk led her to the elevators and a ride later she was entering a conference room on one of the upper floors. Unlike the tilted floor in the lobby, she was met with carpeting here along with some spacious hallways and decorations that reminded her of a doctor's office.
If she recalled correctly, their C.E.O. was a doctor...or maybe that was former C.E.O. She may have read something about a recent firing here in the paper recently, but it was not often she paid close attention to the business section.
Once the door to the conference closed, Freeman directed her towards a chair, which she accepted despite the leather upholstery.
"So what can I do for you, Lieutenant Essen?" Freeman asked after he had taken his own seat. "It's not often we here at Elliot Pharmaceuticals have a visit from you."
"It involves the recent attack on Wayne Enterprises." She was straight to the point here, not wanting to get involved in any small talk.
"An event that caught us all off guard, I'm sure," Freeman said. "If you don't mind me asking, why would you be asking questions about it here? We have always had good relations with Wayne Enterprises."
"We'll get to that," she told him. "We are following up various leads and tips. One of those tips mentioned an experimental substance that your company was working on. Would you mind telling me about it?"
"It's a project that was terminated," Freeman answered dismissively. "I don't see what it has to do with what happened at Wayne Enterprises."
"Tell me more about it. What was it supposed to do?" the lieutenant pressed.
"Nothing that involves monsters if that is what you're trying to get at," the businessman replied. "Really, it was something that held promise, but went absolutely nowhere."
"Would it have something to do with the recent firing of your former C.E.O.?"
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I fear you may be grasping at straws. I highly doubt that Dr. Elliot has anything to do with this and for the record, he left voluntarily. It was a mutual agreement. For the time being, we're in the middle of restructuring management. We are far too busy with our internal affairs that we can concern ourselves with external ones. I'm afraid that whatever tip you received was a dead end."
Despite all the talk, Essen knew that she was being stonewalled. Freeman may be saying a lot, but he wasn't answering her questions. Now why would that be?
"In a case such as this, we need to follow every lead if only to make sure that it is a dead end. I'm sure you can understand that," she said. "So, do you have anything else that may have adverse effects? Something that might explain the presence of that creature?"
"Are you accusing us of something?" Freeman was no longer being affable. Before, he was very pleasant, but right now none of it was being directed her way.
"Not at all, Mr. Freeman." She hoped she was being reassuring, but like with Freeman and his pleasantness, she was not in the mood to direct any his way either. "I am hoping for some cooperation so that I can get back the station and follow up more credible leads. However, to do that, I have to follow this lead as far as I can, even if it does lead to nowhere. So, my previous question, Mr. Freeman: do you have any substances here that could have any effects that might create anything like that creature that attacked Wayne Enterprises?"
"None whatsoever Lieutenant. We here at Elliot Pharmaceuticals are in the business of providing the public with the means of maintaining and/or improving their physical and psychological health. We do not create some experimental compounds that could make anything like that creature. We wouldn't be in business if we did."
"I believe you, Mr. Freeman, but to make sure we can rule this lead out, would you mind if I take a look into this experimental compound of yours?"
"I will have to get back to you on that…" Freeman began, but Essen chose to interrupt him this time.
"I am aware that Wayne Enterprises was working in conjunction with the project." She paused to let those words sink in. "I can go to them right now and leave in five minutes with all the details of it." When Freeman didn't say anything, she continued, "Let's work together on this, Mr. Freeman, so that we can get this over and done with as soon as possible."
"I'm going to have to end this right here, Lieutenant. I do not have the time for any witch hunt that you may be trying to lead, but know that any future contact with this company over this matter will be through our attorneys. Good day, Lieutenant."
Pretty much what she expected. "I can show myself out, Mr. Freeman. Let me assure you that we will be in touch."
Freeman watched as the detective left the room. He was the picture of stoicism right up until the door clicked closed. Once he heard it, he dropped his head and covered his face with his hands.
Would Elliot's nightmare drug ever end? The repercussions of it were beating him silly. Why had they gone on that wild goose chase in the first place? He had felt it in his gut that this was fool's gold, but no, no one listened to him.
Calming down, Freeman reached out to his phone and picked it up, dialing a number. He hardly waited for the other end to pick up before stating, "We have a leak. The police know about EP3409." A pause. "What makes you think I know? Right now, we need to get this contained and secured before we find ourselves in a bigger shitstorm than we're already in." He waited as he listened to the other person on the phone. "Please," he scoffed, "like Elliot would be involved. He's practically a pariah right now. What's the worst he could do?"
Essen was barely in her car when she was unknowingly mimicking Phillip Freeman by taking out her phone. Her call, however, was to the commissioner.
"Gordon, I think you might be onto something," she said as soon the commissioner picked up.
"The Elliot Pharmaceuticals tip?"
Essen nodded her head in affirmation before realizing that Jim couldn't see her. "Yes. They tried to give me the runaround, but when I cut through their BS, they clamped up shut and refused to talk anymore. They are definitely hiding something."
There was a five second pause on the other end before the commissioner spoke again. "So how do you want to approach this, Lieutenant?"
"I was thinking of hitting up Wayne Enterprises. Maybe they have something on this compound that Elliot Pharmaceuticals does not want us to know. Also thought of smoking out Dr. Elliot. He might be more open to filling us in on what his company doesn't want us to know."
"And how do you know that Dr. Elliot would be willing to help in our investigation?"
"Because he lost his job recently. Typically when a person like a C.E.O. loses his job, it's not because they want too. He's too young to go into retirement despite the fact he's a billionaire."
"It sounds like you have everything under control on your end." Was that a chuckle? "Be careful, Lieutenant, and inform me of what Wayne Enterprises says when you get back."
"Of course, Ji—Commissioner." She hung up the phone and sighed. Today was going to be a long day if she was going to be driving all over Gotham on this case. Hopefully this next stop would be more fruitful and not just another waste of her time.
Nightfall on Gotham, one of the least liked parts of the day.
It was during the night that the creeps and freaks of this city came out of the woodwork to ply their trades and do what they did best. Naturally, the "honest folk" of Gotham would have to suffer whatever mischief these miscreants got into, even if it resulted in the tarnishment of property, the assault and battery on the person, or the ending of a life. Some times it was random and disorganized. Other times it was the opposite, planned to a T, and highly profitable.
In recent months, there had been a bit of a change as the predators who used to stalk the night were now the prey who were stalked. Those who inspired terror were now the terrorized. The strong were torn from their pillars and broken to show what they truly were made of.
On this night, there would be a new face. A hidden one to be sure, but still it would stand out even in a place like Gotham City.
He lived on the outskirts of the city, pretty much like all the wealthy and affluent did. He had had no need to enter the city at night unless he was pulling an all-nighter at his former place of employment. He especially had no need to be walking the streets either where just anyone could mug you without a second's warning.
Yet, that was where Elliot was. Like mentioned before, his face was hidden to a degree. Freshly changed bandages wrapped around his head, obscuring his face and leaving large gaps where his eyes and mouth were. His hair was covered with bandages to hide its distinctive color. No sense tipping anyone off.
He continued to wear the same trench coat that he had put on to follow Hagan the previous day. His footwear on the other hand was changed into something that was more appropriate for running. As for an accessory, he carried a M1911 .45 caliber pistol which would be his personal means of defense—and offense.
It had taken some effort, but he had managed to get into contact with a local gang, one that had been quite interested in what he had to say. Taking out the Batman was a phrase that could get anyone's attention, but only the most ambitious would accept the challenge. Lucky for him he had found a group more than willing to act with the ambition, the numbers, and the drive to do so.
With the name that the Batman had been making for himself, the person or group that could take him out would find themselves comfortably at the top of the food chain. Naturally they were so full of themselves that they were easily manipulable and more than willing to listen to what he said, especially when it came to taking down the Bat.
The plan was brilliant in its simplicity: murder and mayhem. To ensure that the police would not get involved, obstacles would be placed to cordon off the gang and any law enforcement. That meant road blockades of a fiery nature. Hailstorms of bullets. A full out riot where the rioters were criminals. Hidden in the midst of it would be him, bandage-faced and all, to observe and wait for his opportunity to strike.
With odds like these, he doubted he would need to act. How could one man stand up to a militia? Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a contingency and that is where his M1911 came in. If those thugs couldn't do the job, Elliot had the insurance that would do it.
And it all would begin in 3...2...1…
A thunderous boom sounded off in the night as bombs engulfed car in flames, lighting up the dank darkness of the city. Charging out onto the streets, the gang wielded their weapons of choice, cackling like hyenas, and going after any unlucky pedestrian that thought that tonight would be a good night to take a walk. A baseball bat to the back of the head would show how wrong an assumption like that was.
A woman shrieked as she was dragged out of sight by several thugs, her fate obvious to the disgraced doctor. Looks like there was going to be a side order of rape on the menu tonight. It did not concern him though. What did was exposing himself so he kept to the shadows and out of sight of everyone.
In the distance he could hear the sounds of sirens. The law was on its way, but not for long. A select few had been given instructions to be ready for this as well as soon...tools, shall we say, would be used to stall for more time.
The sounds of sirens quieted as more explosions erupted in the distance. That was one road block that was in effect.
Elliot scanned the chaotic setting, searching for any sign of the Bat. He wasn't here yet, despite the amount of larceny occurring. To his left he could see a gang member with a sledgehammer taking his frustrations out on a poor Honda Civic while his friends were cheering him on. To his right, someone was breaking out the molotov cocktails early, throwing them at the front of residences. Flames burst upon the building fronts, beginning that slowly, deadly burn of arson.
He rolled his eyes at that. If they wanted to go for the maximum effect, they should have gone for the roof or through a window. Poor aim and insight there. Nonetheless, it wasn't his problem.
Gun shots were fired and Elliot searched for the source. He better not be in the line of sight, or anywhere near it. If he had learned anything from the previous day, an injury could fuck up your plans like nothing else.
So far, things were looking toasty, but no Bat so far. Where was he? At this rate, this riot was going to start feeding on itself and lose focus. By that, he meant that these young, dumb, and stupid men would forget that this was all suppose to be a trap and not some random act of chaos, no matter how convincing it appeared to be.
Overhead a helicopter appeared, shining a light down on the street, a voice ringing down with the demand to cease and disperse. Gunfire answered that demand, but with as high as it was, the aerial vehicle was not in any imminent danger.
Down the street, he could see a family fleeing its burning home, but ran straight into the welcoming arms of the arsonists who greeted them with bats, brass knuckles, and uncaring fists. Savagely, they were beaten to the ground screaming. Other civilians were trying to escape the nightmarish scene, but also met the fate of the mentioned family. A few individuals were lucky enough to escape, but there were not of his concern.
In the other direction, there was another explosion as a second road block was created with the remains of burning cars and gunfire. The sounds of sirens were muffled by the screams of people, the propellers of the helicopter, and the panicked chaos that was natural to a riot. If you listened closely, you could just make the wailing sirens out.
Okay, how much longer was he going to wait? The Batman was taking his sweet time, not showing up in record time like he did at Wayne Tower—obviously a show of preference there.
From the alley that he had seen several gang members drag that woman from before into, he saw one of the rapists running out. Elliot would have ignored him except for the fact that the thug seemed to find this a good time to lose his balance and fall face first onto the ground. What kept the doctor's attention was the fact that despite laying on the ground, the man was moving back into the alley, trying to grab at the asphalt and screaming his lungs out.
Those screams were masked by the screams of everyone else in the immediate vicinity.
Now that innocuous alley had his full attention. Could this be it? Was the Batman about to make his debut? If so, then it was different from how he had pictured it. Instead of coming in for the head-on approach, the vigilante was being indirect. Very interesting.
Something small was thrown out of the alley and had he not been watching it, the bandage-faced man would have missed it—
A flash blinded along with everyone in close proximity, coupled with a deafening BANG! Elliot grasped at his face with a cry, trying to protect his eyes as he stumbled back further into his little niche, unseen, hopefully, by everyone. It felt like his eyes were on fire and he clenched his eyelids tightly as if that would soothe the ache. He slowly grew aware of the ringing of his ears as—oh shit!
He had lost his balance and tried to catch it against a trashcan that did not hold up his weight. Down he went and disorientation was his friend now. Which way was up? Where was the ground? Where…?
Cautiously, Elliot began blinking his eyes, but ended up shutting them tight due to the agony still shooting through his optic nerves. He groaned as he became more aware of the fact that he was laying on the ground of a dirty alley. The ringing in his ears was becoming more of a dull hum now and he was becoming more and more oriented.
Again, he tried opening his eyes, getting only a blur that was gradually becoming clearer. Okay, it didn't hurt to open them now but it was still an effort. Now he was wondering what could have caused this. Was that a flashbang grenade or something? Damn, he had not been expecting it.
Stretching out an arm, he found a brick wall and began using it to steady himself as he picked himself up and got back onto his feet. His vision was becoming clearer the more he blinked his eyes, his hearing starting to return as well Once he was able to start distinguishing shapes from blurs, he slowly began creeping his way forward. By the time he reached the exit of the alley, his vision was almost back a hundred percent, which allowed him to see what was occurring beyond his small sanctuary.
The street was littered with fallen bodies, or what Elliot assumed were bodies. It could've been pieces of junk for all he knew. Stray rays of light caused him to wince as they pained his retinas. He blinked harder to clear away that pained sensation, a groan escaping his lips. Swinging his head awkwardly from left to right, he tried to find something that made sense to his frazzled mind.
There, movement to his right. Like a thirsty man in a desert he focused on it, squinting his eyes as he did so. There was some form moving amongst dark shapes, causing them to fall in seconds. As his vision continued to clear, he could make out men crashing to the asphalt, the faint cries of fright and pain registering through that incessant ringing.
And then the Batman came more into focus. He had just forcibly pulled a sledgehammer from one of the thugs, spun around in a circle while lowering himself into a crouched position, and slammed the hammer on the side of the thug's knee. The man collapsed to the ground as he grasped at his ruined joint before the head of the sledgehammer was driven into his gut.
A gang member then charged at the Bat, barehanded and what appeared to be screaming. he didn't stand a chance as the vigilante lifted up the hammer and swung it full force into his gut, knocking the man backwards and down to the ground in pain.
Dropping the sledgehammer, the Batman seemed to stroll up to the unarmed thug and casually stomped a booted foot on his head, rendering him unconscious. He then pulled out some sort of device, aimed it an unsuspecting thug and fired it, some sort of cable flying through the air until it made contact. Keeping a firm grip on the device, the dark-clad man grabbed the cable with his other hand and yanked backwards, causing the targeted man to come half-stumbling, half-flying towards him. Elliot winced as the Bat slammed a fist to the man's face, causing him to flip head over feet to the ground behind the vigilante.
Batman then went charging at a nearby group of thugs. What seemed like blinding, blurring movements dropped every single one of those men to the ground in brutal fashion. One, however, managed to back away and picked up a forgotten baseball bat, then tried to strike the vigilante from behind.
Almost as if the Bat had eyes in the back of his head, he nimbly stepped to a side as the bat sailed harmlessly through the air and connected with a crack on the ground. The Batman raised an arm up, bent at the elbow, and slammed it into the attacker's face, knocking him backwards as he released his hold on the wooden weapon to grasp a bleeding, possibly broken nose. However, the bat didn't hit the ground as the vigilante snatched it in mid-air with his other hand, got a firm grip when he grasped it with his second hand, then swung the bat to hit the thug in the face, the bat shattering into wooden splinters upon impact.
And yet, the vigilante wasn't done as he continue to spin in place. Releasing his hold on the bat handle with one hand, he then threw it with the other hand at an unsuspecting thug close by, hitting him on the back of his knee and causing it to buckle as the man let out a surprised cry. So focused on the man was Elliot, he didn't see Batman launch a second projectile, some sort of metal...thing, which collided with the back of the man's skull and knocked him unconscious. The fact that the Batman had hit this man in mid-fall didn't escape the doctor's attention.
A quick look around confirmed what had been a sinking feeling in Elliot's stomach. It wasn't just civilians lying on the ground, but fallen gang members. In fact, a lot more than just the few Batman had engaged in were currently either unconscious or moaning in excruciating pain. That flashbang grenade must have screwed up his sense of time as well as his vision and hearing because there was no way a few minutes could have allowed that...that...incredible man to do as much fighting as he had done.
It was obvious, Elliot had underestimated this man. No wonder he had managed to drive off Hagan. These men who were so eager to make a name for themselves, who had youth and vitality in their favor were falling before the might of this dark Goliath.
No, his underestimation was worse than he thought. The Batman was smarter than he had given him credit for, much smarter. He had thought the vigilante would charge head first into the chaos in a desperate attempt to quell it. When he failed to show up, it hadn't occurred to him that this man would first analyze the scene before forming a plan of action—thus the use of a flashbang grenade and near perfectly-choreographed martial arts moves. Not one movement had been wasted as brutal, devastating blows had efficiently defeated every single thug thus far.
It would have been fatal to carry on with his present course of action.
It was not in Elliot's best interest to reveal himself. From this distance, he was not sure he'd be able to hit the vigilante with his gun. Even now he could see how effective wielding a gun was as the masked man was starting on the armed men.
Turning on his heel, the bandage-faced man made his exit. At the very least he had had the foresight to have an escape plan in case this had turned into a bust.
The Batman was a formidable opponent, no question. Something like brute force would not be enough to take him down. No, it would require some finesse to topple the defender of Wayne Enterprises—no, no that wasn't quite it was it? The defender of Gotham, that was more like it. The Batman had proven that much tonight. It would take strategy and brilliant outmaneuvering to overcome this sort of man. Elliot would need to get into his head and think like him if he was to predict his movements.
Heh, he hadn't had such a challenge like this in a long time.
Wayne could wait for the moment. For the time being, Elliot had a more worthy opponent to deal with. Once the vigilante was dealt with and crushed, then he could return his attention to making Wayne suffer.
Now what would his next move be?