Battle of Life


"You went to the river? Just you and Nagel?" The fresh-faced cop dragged another kerosene heater into the room, still not taking his eyes off Danny. "Jeez, Jamie said you were crazy, but that's..."

"Oh, shut up already." Danny managed a snarl through his chattering teeth. A blanket was over his shoulders and he had a cup of boiling coffee in his hands, but he still was shivering uncontrollably. He turned toward the corner, where a red-haired man in a trenchcoat was bending over a mattress. "Doc, is he going to be okay?"

"I think so," said the doctor, standing back. On the dirty mattress, under a weight of blankets, was Jamie, still muttering deliriously. "Hypothermia can be tricky, and I don't exactly have all my equipment here..." He looked about the dirty room distastefully. "...but I think I can say he's out of danger. What he needs right now is plenty of rest and fluids. And he should be kept warm, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Thanks for your help, Dr. Elliot." The fresh-faced cop shook the man's hand. As the doctor left, he turned to the others. "Seriously, Reagan. Do you know how many men we lost last time we tried that?"

"Should have at least told me." Captain Jones looked at them worriedly. "I could have loaned you a few men."

"You have your own mission." Danny shook his head. "Anyway, it worked out all right. We all got out alright... Didn't we?" He looked to the cop for confirmation.

"Nagel hasn't shown up yet." The man shook his head. "But then, Bane hasn't hung him in Main Square, either, so there's a good chance he's alive."

"Fine." Danny forced himself to his feet. "So what's our next move?"

"You're not having a 'next move' for another day at least." Jones pushed him back down. "Ice water in the winter is no joke, Reagan. Stay here, rest, soak up some heat, and look after your brother."

The other nodded. "It's not that we can't use the help..."

"He's a civilian." Jones cut in.

"Not sure there are 'civilians' in this town." Danny muttered.

"—but we can't afford any more casualties." The cop ignored both of them. "Anyway, right now we want to keep things quiet, and no offense, Reagan, but your river rescue kinda made that a whole lot harder."

"Yeah, well... Subtlety never was my strong point," smirked Danny.

"Heh." Jones grinned and fist-bumped him. "Blake's right, though. Right now we're gathering info on the bomb, the last thing we want is to let Bane know what we're up to. We're going out to find which of the three trucks the bomb's in."

Blake glanced at his watch. "Need to move for that, actually. The first checkpoint's about a mile away."

"Thought the triggerman was your main priority." Danny frowned.

"The cops here think the situation's more complex than we were told," answered Jones, glancing at Blake with faint irritation. "They've got some expert on the bomb they want us to meet with, but I insisted we do some recon on the triggerman first."

"I'm telling you, we don't have time for that." Blake did not look happy.

"And I'm telling you, this is my operation and my orders." Jones shot back.

"Whatever you guys are doing, if you don't want me you'd better get to doing it." Danny groused, sitting back on the other bed. "Right now you're just blowing hot air."

Blake and Jones glared at him, but moved for the door. Jones paused. "Sit tight Reagan. I'll get you back home to that little wife of yours yet."

"Heh." Danny gave a little salute. "Give 'em hell, cap."


The world had stopped for Linda Reagan. She was pushing her way through the assembled nurses, rushing toward the TV at the end of the breakroom. Some idiotic commentator was on it right now, face pale, saying something no one cared about. Show the picture again, damn it!

There it was. A split screen, but it was there. Three figures, dangling from the bridge towers. Horribly distant, impossibly vague. The commentator's voice was still going stupidly on. "...no comment yet from the military as to who the men are or why they were killed in such a manner. Accusations from the Leveler's movement about the supposed insertion of a special forces team have as yet gone unanswered..."

She felt something buzzing in her pocket and wondered vaguely what it was. She was right under the TV now, craning her neck as if she could somehow get a better angle on the bodies that way. Zoom in! Why the hell don't they zoom in?

There was something of a confused hubbub behind her. Someone was shaking her by the shoulders. Someone pressed something against her ear.

It was Frank. Frank was saying something... no, SHOUTING something. "...Danny! It's not him, Linda! None of those bodies on the bridge are Danny!"

Linda tore the phone away from the nurse holding it to her ear. "Frank." She gulped. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." Frank's voice was sure, calm, comforting. "We've just been reviewing the unedited footage here at the station. It's not him."

Shuddering, Linda practically collapsed into a chair.


"Someone on the inside sold us out." Blake had a grim look on his face. "It's the only way they could have found us so quickly. Jones and his men never stood a chance."

"I fought with Jones." Danny hissed back. "He's no pushover."

"Bane was with them."

There was nothing to say to that. "Who all did you manage to get out?" Jamie asked.

"Tate and most of the Wayne Enterprises Board. Cobblepot, Elliot, and about fifteen others. I took them to the Rinsburg safehouse."

"Fox?" Jamie raised his eyebrows.

Blake shook his head. "He stayed behind."

A curse broke loose from Jamie, and Danny looked at his brother in surprise. "Damnit, Blake, we need him!"

"Tell me something I don't know." Blake slammed the wall in sudden fury. "They knew right where we were, Reagan! Right where we were!"

"Kinda weird you managed to get out without so much as a scratch." Danny glared at the cop.

Blake glared right back. Jamie interposed. "Hey, bro, enough. Blake's been with us through the whole occupation. He's clean, okay?"

"I've known a lot of good cops turn dirty."

Jamie just sent him a look. "Who knew you were going with Jones to the safehouse?" He asked Blake.

"Gordon, Foley, and a couple others. But they're all solid, I'd swear by them."

"Gotta be one of the fatcats then."

Blake shook his head. "What solid citizen with a bank account to his name's going to risk making a deal with Bane? We're they're best bet and we know it."

"Someone saw you?"

"Impossible."

Jamie sighed and turned away. "This is getting us nowhere." He looked at Danny, who nodded agreement. "What's the plan from here?" He asked Blake.

"Gordon's going to use that equipment they brought to tag the bomb truck." Blake answered. "Don't know what we'll use that for, but... heck, we've got to do something."

"Right." Jamie nodded. "Danny and I'll help you."

"No." Blake put out a hand. "You two need to get out of here."

"What?" Jamie's face scrunched up in puzzlement.

"The hell we are." Danny snorted.

"You've got a wife and kids to get back to." Blake reminded him. "I don't know what Gordon'd say, but I'm telling you now, you do not want those kids to grow up without a father."

Danny subsided at that, but Jamie was not so easily cowed. "How we supposed to do that anyway?" He insisted. "Everyone in this dump of a town has been trying to get out for the last five months anyway. What makes you think we even CAN escape?"

Blake shrugged. "I'm just saying you need to try, man."


"The police of New York City have shown time and again that their only goal is to protect the powerful and corrupt. They have ignored the plight of the underprivileged..."

The sergeant stared at Jackie's screen. "I don't get it, Curatola." He frowned. "All I see is Hollander being a jerkass, as normal."

"Wait for it." Jackie held up her hand.

"...the police commissioner reserves the honor of beatdown cases for select police officers who will never face justice. How many times has the commissioner's own son been indicted for brutality? But of course, nothing sticks to HIM! HE'S protected! Daddy probably takes special pride in his son making the downtrodden stay down. Probably gets him all sorts of favors from the right people."

"Again, what's new about Hollander mouthing off?"

Jackie sighed. "This video is the day before the Gildged kid went missing." She explained, pausing the video. "It seem like a coincidence to you that Hollander mentions Danny like this? We've talked about how weird it was that he had the camera all set up to record the abuse."

"You thinkin' this thing was a setup?"

Jackie shrugged and started up the video.

"I tell you, just watch. They'll come after me too, and I'll bet you anything you like it'll be the commissioner's private enforcer, Dangerous Danny, who they'll send to question me."

"Good enough for me." The sergeant moved away from the computer. "Look into it, Curatola."


"How the heck d'you know about this tunnel, Danny?" Jamie's flashlight beam darted back and forth across the walls. "From the looks of things, nobody's used it for years. I'd be surprised if even the locals knew about it."

"I'd be surprised too." Danny grunted, clambering over another boulder. He held out a hand to help Jamie up the smooth rock. "It was barely a rumor I read about Gotham during the 1800's... apparently the Wayne family, who practically ruled the place, were big into the Underground Railroad. Escaped slaves told a story about a whole city underground, with a tunnel that ran all the way out to the wild."

Jamie cocked an eye at him. "Seriously?"

"Most scholars thought it was a load of bunk." Danny shrugged. "I mean, no one ever found the city. But there were some interesting conspiracy theorists on the web that this one 0r4c13 girl put in touch with, that had some pretty solid ideas about where the tunnel was." Glancing at the pile of boulders half-clogging the path before him, he shook his head. "Though I'll admit I was hoping it would be in better shape."

"A way out of the city..." Jamie shook his head, staring all around at the rocky walls. "The other guys need to know about this. We can start evacuating citizens..."

"We don't even know if it goes all the way out yet." Danny shook his head at his brother. "Let's wait until we're sure before we start raising hopes."

Jamie shrugged. "Fine. How'd you find this stuff out at all?"

"I'm a detective, dipshit." Danny elbowed his little brother.

"Yeah, not a historian," scoffed Jamie. "What're you doing, looking up old Civil War rumors and talking to unidentified conspiracy theorists? Slow day at the office?"

Danny sighed. "C'mon, let's get going."

Shrugging, Jamie followed, but he did not drop the topic. About five minutes later, as they were digging out the dirt around a rock, he spoke again. "Where's this thing come out?"

"No idea. It was supposed to be about fifteen miles out from Gotham's east side, but of course that would have been in 1840. It was intentionally far away from any landmarks."

Jamie nodded. "So what was your plan to find the entrance?"

"It wasn't... I wasn't thinking that far ahead, kid." Danny shrugged awkwardly, wiping the sweat off his face. "It was just... It helped me pass the time. I mean, I knew I could never really leave Linda and the kids, and it was crazy to think about it, but..." He sighed. "It just felt like if I could think of how I MIGHT do things... maybe that would make it better."

Jamie didn't answer immediately. "And... did it?" He said at last.

"Not really." Danny pressed on with a new fury. "Come on, it can't be that much further."

"Great. Lead on." Jamie answered.

Danny glanced at his brother. "For someone just escaping the chaos-filled death-trap he's been stuck in for the past five months, you don't sound too happy."

"It just... feels weird." Jamie sighed. "It feels WRONG, really, to be just... leaving, like this. I mean, I guess I expected to help take Bane down or something. Not..." He swallowed and looked back. "Not be leaving all the others to just die in a blast."

Danny closed his eyes. "Look." He said, turning around. "We talked about this. Someone's got to tell the world about that bomb. We get out in time, find a phone, we can maybe get our intel to Dad or to someone likely to make a difference. It's got a better chance at working than whatever hair-brained scheme Blake and the others are trying out."

"Right," agreed Jamie, with all the enthusiasm of a mudhole.

Danny punched his little brother in the shoulder. "Hey." He said, forcing a smile. "Look, you think this isn't tearing me up too? They killed my old CO. But we gotta keep the larger picture in mind here. We gotta get back to the world."

Jamie nodded. "And you need to get back to Linda."

"Damn straight. Now let's get going." Danny gestured up the tunnel. "I think I see light up ahead."

It WAS light, and Jamie couldn't help but think it was odd that the opening should still be clear after all these years, not covered under branches and rotted leaves. Instead, he could see sunlight shining through a hole roughly the size of a basketball. Jamie supposed he should be grateful for small favors—it would have taken him and Danny forever to dig their way out.

And then a shovel dropped through the hole to clatter on the cave floor.

Jamie and Danny shot each other bewildered looks before drawing their sidearms and approaching the hole, more cautiously this time. Who else could have possibly followed up on the same strange wild story as Danny?

The light from the hole was momentarily blocked out as the tall, athletic figure of a man struggled through the opening, dropping to the floor with a grunt. He hissed in pain and grabbed at his knee.

"What the hell?" Jamie muttered, before he could stop hiimself.

The man glanced up quickly to meet the glare of both their flashlights. "Hello officers." Something about his face seemed very familiar, but before Jamie could place it the man pushed himself to his feet and strode past them. "You're going the wrong way." He remarked.

Danny looked at Jamie. Jamie looked at Danny. They both glanced at the sunlight streaming through the hole. They glanced again at the man disappearing into the darkness.

"You know that guy?" Danny finally asked.

"No, I never..." Jamie snapped his fingers. "Bruce Wayne. But why the heck..."

For a moment longer they stood in dumbfounded silence. Then Jamie gave a little cough. "Look, we at least need to tell the guys about this. You call Dad, I'll just run back to tell them..."

"You're not coming back from that trip," grunted Danny, a look of resignation in his eyes. "And I'm not sending you back alone."


Frank dropped into the seat at the diner. "Andrew." He smiled. "Been too long."

"That it has, Frank." The man sitting opposite from the commissioner was remarkably nondescript. His lean frame and poised bearing belied the grey hair and lined face. "That it has. Guess it's just hard to find the time, in jobs like ours. Appreciate your meeting me on such short notice."

Frank grunted. "An old friend I haven't been able to contact in over twenty years suddenly calls me out of the blue? I was starting to think you were dead, Andrew."

"Being dead can be a bonus in my line of work." Andrew's grin was slightly crooked. His face sobered quickly. "It's about Gotham, Frank."

Carefully, quietly, Frank set down his glass. "Jamie? Danny?"

"Still no word." Andrew shook his head. "Hell, the Pentagon still doesn't even know that your boy Danny was a tag-along on Jones' run. Not that it'd make much difference if they did." Something about that seemed amusing to Andrew, and he chuckled into his coffee. "No," he said, setting down his mug, "this is something a bit more general than that."

Andrew looked around the diner before proceeding. Hunching forward, he beckoned to Frank to lean toward him. "You know about the bomb." He said. "You know that that bomb has been the only reason we haven't parachuted troops all over that concrete jungle. You probably know how much that grinds my gears."

"Yes." Frank simply nodded.

"The State Department received an anonymous tip a few days ago about that bomb," continued Andrew. "A source from inside Turkey leaked us classified data from Wayne Enterprises about a fusion reactor they built. With modifications, it could serve as the device Bane's using."

"What?"

"It gets worse." Andrew grimaced. "The source claimed that using the reactor in that way would render the material increasingly unstable. After six months, the bomb would blow up of its own accord."

"Six..." Frank's eyes flicked back and forth. "It's been nearly that already. Is this reliable?" He asked, glancing up at Andrew.

Andrew gestured helplessly. "I don't know Frank. We get tips on that thing every day. Grad students who think they've proven it can't be built. Strippers who say some guy they dated back in the day worked on it. Farmers who say aliens dropped it off in their back yard. This one's lasted a lot longer than most... Our analysts are pretty evenly divided as to whether it's even possible. The problem, Frank, is that there's just been so little practical work involving fusion reactors, let alone fusion bombs. No one knows anything about this thing."

"You wouldn't meet me after all this time to tell me a crazy rumor." Frank stated, watching his friend narrowly. "You wouldn't risk your job for that."

Andrew glanced away. "The intel... looked good." He admitted. "I mean, it looked REALLY good. It fit in perfectly with a lot of our analysis, a lot of our work on Wayne Enterprises... it answers so many questions, Frank. I think it's reliable."

"And you're telling me because..."

"Because the scales are balanced pretty evenly right now, and I need someone to push on my side." Andrew's eyes were hard and unyielding. "You've got at least one son in there, Frank. No one's going to question you calling in a few favors to get some mountains moved on it."

"I'm no good at politics, Andy."

"Then learn fast," said Andy grimly. "In a few days it won't make any difference anyway."


"No. No, they got Gordon. We were marking the trucks and all of a sudden thugs came rushing around the corner from all sides. Grabbed Gordon and all the boys down there. Mrs. Tate too."

"Mrs. Tate?" Jamie echoed in disbelief. "What the hell was she doing there?"

"Said she wanted to help..."

"Managed to get away again, did you?" Danny shot a very-suspicious look at Blake. "Sure lead a charmed life, don'tcha?"

"Hey, c'mon, Danny, lay off!" Jamie shouted at his brother.

Blake just shook his head. "I don't know about charmed, man... You don't get it. We're the last. Us, the last. Well, maybe Foley, but he's gone to ground and I can't blame him. Before you guys walked in the door, I could have sworn I was the last cop in the city." He gave Danny a little chuckle. "Even if I was a traitor, who would I betray? And why would I come back here?"

Danny grunted but seemed satisfied.

"Alright." Jamie nodded. "What's the plan?"

"I don't know..." Blake shook his head. "Gordon and the others are probably dead already... I'm planning to see if I can break out the rest of the boys."

"What, the ones in the tunnels?" At Blake's nod, Jamie practically exploded. "You're crazy, man! Those access points are swarming with thugs! Even when we had a full team, Gordon said it'd be crazy, now you're going it alone?"

"You got some kind of better idea?" Blake looked at Jamie. "Maybe you don't get it, but we're the last cops in this city, and that bomb's going off tomorrow! If we don't get some help..." He shook his head. "...we're all dead anyway." And turning, Blake ran out the door.

Jamie moved to follow him, but Danny grabbed his arm. "Leave him." Danny shook his head. "That's a death run and he knows it."

"I just... I forgot to tell him we ran into Bruce Wayne. Back in the tunnels." Jamie sat back down. "It was... kind of a thing with him."

"For all we know, Bane probably picked him up already anyway," pointed out Danny. "And even if not, there's no way we could find him in the city. Guy could be off climbing Gotham Gate Bridge, for all we know. No, Jamie, it's just us now."

"Sounds like we might as well go help Blake then." Jamie smiled without humor.

"Nope." Danny shook his head. "I got a better idea."


"Legally, there's not much you can do, Dad." Erin frowned across her desk. "Obviously neither you nor Mayor Poole has any pull over the federal troops surrounding Gotham, so it's not like you can just order them to pull out. It's probably better just to call up whatever old army buddies or CIA friends you have and ask them to put some muscle behind it."

"Already have," answered Frank, pacing back and forth in Erin's tiny office. "None of them would confirm or deny anything. We need something else, Erin."

Erin sighed and massaged her temples. "You could... start an online petition." She suggested. "Go public with the info and get a bunch of people behind it."

"That would play our hand, cause a panic, and possibly prompt the terrorists into blowing the city up anyway." Frank shook his head, still pacing.

"Any sort of move you do is going to have that risk involved." Erin pointed out.

Frank sank into the chair and leaned back. "I should be used to this." He muttered, chewing his lip. "I've been helpless—we've all been helpless—for nearly six months."

"But the stakes weren't this high before." Erin nodded. "Or at least we didn't know they were." She tapped her fingers on her desk, thinking.

"Andy suggested that the madman was right about one thing—the bomb is un-defusable. It's going to go off. So we need to get the people away from it," mused Frank, staring at his hands. "A city is just glass and steel and mortar. It can be rebuilt."

A smile quirked Erin's face. "Would you call New York 'just steel and mortar,' Dad?"

"Well, Gotham's not New York." Frank raised his head and smiled.

Erin seemed about to say something, than changed her mind. "Dad," she said, in a changed voice. "Suppose you led a campaign saying, say, that it was intolerable that the National Guard be dispatched on a urban matter like this."

Frank frowned. "It's not. Bane is a madman, he's warring against our people, the National Guard is totally appropriate."

"But the Guard isn't deployed against Bane. They're deployed against Gothamites." Erin pointed out. "And that seems dangerous—similar to a police state."

Frank was still frowning. "It seems a stretch."

"Maybe. But I could see it attracting votes." Erin arched her eyebrows. "Deploying police officers to guard the bridges, on the other hand—that's safer, more in keeping with our domestic protocols, less threatening to Bane..."

"...more likely to let civilians pass through..." Frank nodded.

"Or at least not shoot them on sight, like they've been doing." Erin shrugged. "Plus, who knows? If the National Guard have some extra men sitting around, they might risk sending in a few more."

"I doubt that." Frank shook his head as he rose. "It hasn't been lack of men that's kept us out. But it's a start. I'll call Garret and see what we can do."


"How is this a better idea?" Jamie hissed.

"Less likely to get us killed, for one thing," grunted Danny, rapping on another door. "More likely to save others, for another."

"I'm just not sure we should be knocking on EVERY house."

"C'mon." Danny looked at his younger brother. "Even if Bane's goons WERE hiding out in one of these town houses, even they are going to want to turn tail once they hear what he's got planned."

Jamie just shook his head. "You haven't met them, Danny."

Danny was just turning to ask what that was supposed to mean, when the door in front of them creaked open and a bleary-eyed schoolmarm peered out. "Go away!" She mewed, fingers clutching tightly to the doorframe.

"Good evening to you too, ma'am," nodded Danny, with his best friendly-cop smile. "I'm Detective Reagan, this is my brother Officer Reagan—there's a situation in the city and we're evacuating the area. Now if you could just pack your belongings..."

"Situation?" The woman blinked.

"It's... kinda collapsing, ma'am." Jamie put in helpfully, indicating the crumbling buildings. "Been doing that a while, now."

"That's right." Danny nodded encouragingly at his brother. "Plus, we estimate that in the next 24 hours that big nasty bomb that the masked guy has got is gonna explode. So if you could just pack your belongings and come with us..."

"Is them looters back? Is that what's going on out there, Emma?" The peering eyes of the schoolmarm were shoved aside to be replaced by the black holes of a double-barrelled shotgun. "Oooh, you want us to vacate the premises, do ya?" snarled the indistinguishible thatch of whiskers on the far end. "Come out nice and quiet so you can root through all our stuff, dontcha?"

"Earl, now don't be like that. He says they're police officers!"

"My pimply hide says they're police officers!" shot back the man. "Probably pinched a badge off one of them fine blue bodies in the sewer, didn'tcha?"

"Look, we can see you're busy." Jamie put in, pulling his brother away. "If you change your mind, come to the old Wayne water tower on Maple. There's a passage there out of the city. Tell anyone you know and send them too."

The man gave an unobliging hiss and slammed the door.

"Well." Jamie shrugged, as Danny turned around. "At least they know. C'mon, bro, sooner or later we'll find someone who believes us."

"I feel like a Jehovah's Witness." Danny muttered, glaring around the street. "Alright, how many more houses are there?"

"There's..." Jamie squinted as an orange glow lit up the street. "What the..." He said, turning round.

Both brothers stared in disbelief as a giant flaming bat lit up the far-off bridge.


"That was fast." Frank sat back and stared at his granddaughter.

Nikki rolled her eyes. "Dad, I didn't just throw that website together now. 0r4c13 and I started this online petition weeks ago. We've been advertising like crazy around the web, trying to get the different Gotham support groups involved. Only…" Her shoulders slumped a little. "…we haven't managed to garner much attention."

Frank nodded. "Well," he said, leaning forward. "Add my name to it, and then get your camera. After that, I need to call Garret."

"Sure you shouldn't do that before, Dad?" Erin eyed her father worriedly. "He's not going to like you doing this without telling him."

"He's probably not going to like this anyway." Frank typed in his name and nodded at Nikki.

Nikki's eyes were wide and delighted. "Oookay." She said, jumping up. "If we really want this to work, it needs to look as professional as possible."


This was crazy.

Danny could think of no other way of assessing the fact that several hundred police officers were walking, en masse, toward a crowd of trained killers armed with assault weapons. Walking! In ranks! That sort of thing had gone out with the American revolution, you didn't just line up for the enemy to shoot at you!

Why bother to walk at all? What was wrong with good, old-fashioned bullets? Sure, most of the cops were unarmed, but it seemed like the few carrying sidearms could just find some handy cover and start plugging away.

Of course, this didn't address the fact that though Danny had a sidearm AND a shotgun, he wasn't shooting anymore than the other cops. Jamie was walking right alongside him with the AK he'd grabbed from the thug, and he wasn't firing either. And the reason for that was simple: It was working. The small army in front of city hall seemed to have been sucked into this dream-like insanity. They were just standing there, automatic weapons half-raised, watching the sea of blue approach them.

Danny'd served in Iraq, he'd had experience in urban warfare, and very little of it involved walking in ranks toward an armed opponent. But hey, if nobody was firing, the last thing you wanted was to remind them what those black things in their hands were for.

It was as though the whole street was silently wondering: Are we… are we really doing this? We seriously going to have an out-and-out battle in the streets?

Then the tank sitting off to the left came into life, and the spell was broken.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. Here we go.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a black… thing swooped down from the sky. Danny caught only a glimpse of it, but it was big, black, and powerful. And it was pouring molten lead into the tank.

The tank exploded. Danny couldn't help himself. He roared with the others as they charged at the mob.


"A new viral video is sweeping the web starring our own New York City Police Commissioner. , a nonprofit petition site devoted to the Gotham warzone…"

"Really wish they wouldn't call it a 'warzone.'" Renzulli frowned at the radio. "Makes it sound like we lost the place already."

Cruz looked over at him. "C'mon, Sarge, you seen the pics. You sayin' they're wrong?"

"I'm sayin' they're depressing, is what I'm saying. Damn defeatist." Renzulli snorted, biting into his hotdog.

"Sounds like the Commish worked up a lot of buzz on this pet project of his." Cruz noted, unwrapping his own lunch. "Think it'll get anywhere?"

Renzulli shrugged. "Hey, it's a good idea, but that ain't no guarantee it's gonna go nowhere. Commish's a big man, but outside of New York he don't got a whole lotta pull. And online petitions never done nothing."

"Tell me about it." Cruz chuckled, glancing out the window. "I'm still waitin' to hear back from that Firefly one I signed."

Renzulli shook his head. "Kids." He muttered.

"Hey, but supposing it does take off." Cruz pressed, turning to his superior again. "You thinkin' you'd sign up to transfer? You know the commish is gonna ask for volunteers."

Renzulli seemed to think about it, then shook his head. "Nah." He said, swallowing. "Guess I'm too much a New Yorker, but I can't see me going cross-country to freeze my buns off on some metal bridge somewhere. Plus the missus would kill me."

Cruz laughed. "Man, you whipped."

"Yeah, and you're single." Renzulli shot back. "You tell me, which one of us is winning out here."

"That's low, man. At least I can go out to Gotham and get an easy gig sitting on a bridge somewhere without having to clear it by my lady first." Cruz pointed out.

"Ain't you lucky."

The radio crackled into life. "Sergeant Renzulli, please report in, Sergeant Renzulli, please report in."

Renzulli picked up the con. "Yeah, this is Sergeant Renzulli."

"Sarge, Curatola just called, said she got a lead on that missing kid case. Said she thought you might be interested in getting in on the action."

A small grin crept across Renzulli's face. "She say anything about a chance to collar that jerk Hollander?"

"She might have mentioned it." The radio admitted.

Renzulli chuckled and nodded at Cruz. "10-4, base, show me the door and I'll get all the cops you want to kick it down."


The wild-eyed thug managed a few bursts from his submachine gun before the butt of Danny's pistol slammed into his face. Danny didn't pause to pick up the weapon… at this range, guns were nearly a hindrance. Even the shotgun he had was slung across his back, its long barrel no help in a close-range melee.

It was a confused madhouse, a wild tumble of cops and thugs, all of them fighting tooth and to his right, Jamie was laying into a man with his policeman's baton, wielding strokes that made Danny wince. When had his sweet little brother become this hardcore?

There really wasn't time to feel proud or disturbed about it. Already Danny was knocking in the teeth of another man, getting kicked in the ribs by another, throwing up a block, nearly shooting another man before he realized that man was a policeman. It was impossible to say who was winning—hell, Danny couldn't have even said how many men HE'D knocked down, or how many times he'd been knocked down.

A jacketed hoodlum came barreling out from the left, slamming into Danny nearly by accident. Danny pushed the man away, grabbed him by the shoulders, and dealt a powerful left hook to the man's jaw. There was someone else nearby, someone on the right…

An incredibly powerful body slammed into Danny's lower chest, pushing up and flipping him over. Danny's back hit the pavement in an unusually painful way, and black spots swam before his eyes. He couldn't breathe, his whole body was seized up in pain, and he could barely see.

And what he saw was a squat, muscular form with dark mask under a brutishly bald skull.

Bane.

Danny gave himself up in that instant. It was all over, it was a mistake to think it would have been any different…

And then he noticed Bane wasn't looking at him.

Bane was looking, in fact, past him, toward a figure dressed all in black who was slowly walking up the steps.

Holy Shit.

Danny had seen pictures of Batman before, of course. At least, if you could call the Bigfoot-like grainy photos on the internet and the flapping outline of a cape on the daily news as "pictures." A few artist's renditions too, which were clearer but, looking on the reality, rather more fanciful. Even without them, he could never have mistaken the figure rising on the steps. Apart from anything else, who would be wearing a giant bat costume?

And Danny, hardened city cop that he was, felt almost ashamed at the awe and hope that rose involuntarily in his soul.

The two figures approached each other, in the middle of the mad scramble. There was again that feeling of utter surreality to the scene. Two leaders, meeting in the middle of a pitched battle like this? Positively cinematic.

And then they charged at each other, and Danny realized he hadn't seen ANYthing yet.


"I have to agree with Commissioner Reagan on this one. The moment we start treating our own people like enemies—"

The television cut to silence as Garret muted it. "You should have told me." He shook his head.

"Erin said something along those lines." Frank nodded.

"C'mon, Frank. Appearing publicly to endorse a cause your granddaughter is leading? Can you say conflict of interest? Appearing on a two-bit site like that is going to kill your credibility."

Frank looked at his Deputy Commissioner curiously. "You're not as angry as I expected you to be.

Garret's face split into a wide grin. "I said it would kill your credibility, I didn't say with who. The internet loves you right now, Frank. You've suddenly got this image of this cool, tech-savvy commissioner who knows how to work the system."

"Never use those words in connection with me again." Frank pointed at the man.

"Noted, but you'd better get used to it." Garret was still smiling. "It's going to be said by a lot of other people over the next couple days. You'll probably have to turn down twice as many interview requests this week. Unless, for a change, you'd actually like to…"

"No." Frank glared.

"We could work out a series of video blogs to post. You could promote your daughter's website…"

"No."

Garret sighed, a trifle deflated. "Fine." Regaining some of his enthusiasm, he continued: "The larger point, Frank, is that everyone LOVES this idea. The families of those trapped in Gotham, the Occupy protestors… even the Levelers don't hate you as much today, Frank."

"Take the bad with the good, I suppose." The commissioner grunted.

"And the politicians are scrambling to get on board." Garret shook his head in admiration, settling himself on one of the office's couches. "Everyone and their legislator is trying to sound like they thought of this first. Jason Evans, the Bludhaven police commissioner, has already pledged half his men to provide the bridge security."

"Evans should keep them where they are. Bludhaven needs all the cops it has right now." Frank frowned. But after a moment he shrugged. "I suppose they'll be there faster than the cops I've pledged already. IF the Pentagon agrees to it."

"Oh, they will." Garret gave a knowing nod. "No word from them yet, but if any of the folks on Capitol Hill value their jobs and constituents, they'll approve it as soon as the ink has dried on the paper. And—I know you didn't plan it this way, Frank, but I don't get a lot of opportunities to say it, so I'm going to anyway. This was a MASTERWORK of Public Relations. You came up with a plan that everyone loves, you stated it in a way so that everyone KNOWS it was your idea…" Garret shook his head again. "You did good, Frank. You did good."

Frank Reagan had gotten up from his desk. He was staring, moodily, out at the street below, and not saying anything.

Garret waited a moment, then tried again. "Frank." He said, more seriously this time. "It's a good thing you did. A great thing."

"Don't be ridiculous, Garret." Frank answered quietly, shaking his head. "I've lobbied to change the guard surrounding a city in order to give my sons a slightly better chance at escaping that hellhole. It doesn't even begin to touch the real problems there. In fact, it's nearly entirely a ceremonial gesture, and it makes me sick that everyone is looking at it like its some heroic endeavor, because it's not." Heaving a sigh, he turned around. "It's a small thing. And it's all the more pitiful because it's all that I, the police commissioner of New York City, with thirty-five thousand men at my command…" He shook his head and glanced away. "…it's a small thing, Garret, but it's the ONLY thing I can do."

Garret didn't answer right away. "Sometimes it's all the small things that make all the difference." He finally said quietly.

"Not this time." Frank said, sinking into the chair behind his desk. "By this time tomorrow, I doubt this will have made any difference at all."


The fight outside the courthouse was no longer a close-quarters melee mob. There were more bodies on the ground now, and less standing up, and THAT meant that the small arms fire were getting a lot more use.

There wasn't exactly a lot of cover. Jamie was kneeling behind some wreckage that had fallen off one of the surrounding buildings. It didn't completely cover him, but it was a lot more protection than Foley had. The Deputy Commissioner, in full dress uniform, was kneeling out in the open, sidearm in hand, cracking off shot after shot. He was doing wonders, but he couldn't last long out there.

"Chief!" Jamie yelled, for what seemed like the hundredth time, popping out from behind his cover to give a burst from the AK. "Get back here! I'll cover you!"

He couldn't tell whether Foley even heard him. "Keep moving forward!" The Deputy Commissioner roared, continuing to fire his pistol. A few thugs running down the steps jerked backwards and fell to the ground. Several more started to come out from behind the pillars.

"Damnit." Jamie hissed, leveling his AK. The sharp rat-tat of the gun quickly made the others duck back, but he couldn't keep them there forever. He couldn't see where Danny was. Batman had disappeared… Jamie thought he'd seen him go inside the building, but he couldn't be sure. And the army of cops they'd had a minute ago was quickly turning into a squad.

A fresh chatter of machinegun fire burst out from the courthouse. Jamie ducked back, but not before catching sight of a new team of thugs exiting the courthouse. In their midst was…

Miranda Tate?

Jamie had no time to consider it. Rolling to the other side of the debris, he got up on his knees and fired on the crowd. He could hear Foley's single-shot barking away still. The man getting into the tank twitched back and collapsed—Jamie honestly couldn't tell if it'd been him or Foley who'd shot him.

The tank was moving. If the tank was moving then its gun was probably operational. Batman, if alive, was probably still in the courthouse; there'd be no air-support on this one. Jamie leapt back behind the debris.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The thunderous roar of the tank's cannons was not quite enough to drown out the chatter of gunfire. Jamie swallowed and stayed still.

BOOM!

A shell exploded, not right against Jamie's shield of rock, but very near. The force was enough to throw him forward onto the ground.

BOOM!

Another shell smashed into the building directly behind him, sending steel and glass flying. Shards tumbled around him, and Jamie hissed as a number buried themselves in his back.

The cannonfire had stopped. Even the machinegun fire was sporadic now. Groaning, Jamie picked himself up and peeked out from behind the rubble.

The officers had been badly thrown into disarray. Most were lying on the ground, blue blood-soaked meatbags on the steps of the courthouse. Jamie swallowed at the sight of Foley's crumpled body, a scant few yards away. He couldn't see Danny's body though, so that was something, at least.

The only people he could see still standing up were the thugs. Not many of them, but well-armed, together, and deadly. They were coming up from behind the pillars now, checking the bodies, firing shots into a few dubious corpses.

One thing gave Jamie hope. As many bodies as there were on the ground, there were still far too few of them. There must be plenty of cops like him, hiding, alert, and alive. But they were scattered, unorganized, and the thugs were alert. Who'd get them out of…

A familiar-looking black motorbike sped up the street, guns firing into the mob of thugs. They shouted and scattered, but Jamie leapt out of his cover and started firing, and he could hear others. A whole bunch of 'bodies' on the ground leapt up and tackled the terrorists. The motorbike rushed past all of them and drove straight into the courthouse.

Jamie had no time to wonder about the oddity of the scene. He jogged forward, over to where the cops were wrestling the terrorists to the ground. One was starting to struggle free. Jamie pointed his AK at him. "Don't try anything stupid!"

"Naw, don't listen to him," grunted the police officer grappling the thug. "PLEASE try something stupid. I got a lot of restless energy after six months in a hole."

Jamie wished the man would shut up. His time dealing with Bane's thugs in Gotham had NOT left him with a strong reliance on their self-preservation instincts. The man's eyes looked like through Jamie like he wasn't even there.

Suddenly, the Batcycle burst back through the doors, rattling down the steps and roaring down the streets. Jamie had just time to absorb that before he saw what the rider had thrown on the steps.

Bane's dead body.

Jamie blinked once, twice, absorbing the fact that the madman was dead. Then he looked back to the others. There was dawning exhilaration in the faces of the cops, deadening despair in those of the crooks. Almost immediately the thugs stopped struggling.

Jamie recovered first. "On your knees, all of you," he snapped, gesturing with his AK. "Hands behind head. Get their weapons and keep them covered." He ordered the other cops.

"Some of you better go through the courthouse, make sure there's no one still hiding out in there." A new voice cut in. Danny Reagan stepped up alongside his brother, an UMP in his hand. "Last thing we want is a fresh bunch of these guys spraying us from the rooftops."

"I'll take a group and secure the building," nodded one dour-faced veteran. He turned to the crowd. "Anyone with SWAT experience, follow me!"

"Better secure the street and get a barricade set up." Danny recommended. "No telling if they got buddies coming back."

"Most of Banes goons were based here." Jamie shook his head. "This should be the biggest knot. IF they do come, they'll be coming from Blackgate way… the North street."

"North street. Got it." Another group of cops detached themselves.

Only then did Jamie permit himself time to relax, to look around and smile at Danny. "Where'd you run off to?" He asked.

"Me?" Danny's brow wrinkled in pretended confusion. "I was doing my job, hiding behind the pillars, picking off the scum hiding out up there. Where were you, huddled behind some rock?"

"I was providing cover fire, thank you very much." Jamie slapped him on the shoulder. "Looked bad once they hit us with the cannon. Good thing Batman showed up, huh?"

"What, on the bike?" Danny snorted. "That wasn't Batman."

"Hey, who's been in Gotham for nearly a year? I think I know Batman when I see him."

"Yeah, and I know a chick when I see one."


Henry was sitting in front of the TV, swearing at it. "For Pete's sake, we can SEE there's some sort of disturbance in the city! Get in there closer and tell us WHAT the hell it is! You've been rerunning the exact same pictures and the exact same commentary since two this morning, do your damn jobs and tell us something NEW for once!"

"As you can see here, there's a long line of cars stretching up the bridge leading out of Gotham. Apparently a large body of citizens is making a concentrated effort at escaping the city. No word yet from the Bludhaven chief on site, but Sergeant Gobles, what do you make of this scenario?

"Well, Diane, what we're seeing here is a classic…"

Henry muted the television in frustration. "Stupid military airspace and stupid news choppers and stupid…" He muttered. "Yes! I see the flaming bat! Thank you, I've seen it, I've seen it about forty times in the last FIFTEEN MINUTES! It was old news at 4:30! Why couldn't you…"

A sudden plume of smoke caught his eye on the live Skycam feed and he unmuted the television.

"…one moment, Sergeant Gobles, I'm receiving word now that there has been a controlled explosion on the bridge leading out of Gotham City. Again, that is a CONTROLLED explosion, most likely the result of explosives laid under the bridge."

Henry dropped the remote. "What the HELL!?"

"If these explosives have been detonated by the officers on site, this means that a civilian, or more likely a concentrated group of civilians, endeavored to make an organized rush at the police barricade. Now we haven't seen any bodies, so it's unlikely that anyone was harmed…"

"Why the hell do we have explosives under our own bridge?" Henry exploded. "What, we're blowing up people trying to escape the terrorists now? Wake up, Miss News Anchor, if those terrorists aren't showing up to stop these folks, clearly they're not in control of the city! Bomb was probably never real in the first place!"

"We're still awaiting word from the Bludhaven police officers on the situation, we'll keep you updated as the situation progresses."

Henry sighed and sank back in his chair. "Damn hippies." He muttered.


Suddenly Jamie's eyes widened. He pushed Danny out of the way and leapt up the stairs, practically jumping into another officer's face. "The HELL are you doing?" He demanded, snatching the gun out of the man's hand.

"Whatsa matter?" The other cop asked, his face as hard as flint. "Got a problem with me taking something back for those six months they get me in a dirty hole?" He made a move to snatch back his gun.

"Got a big problem with that," snarled Jamie.

"Yeah, him and me both." Danny warned, stepping up behind his brother.

"You stay out of this, New Yorker," shot back the flint-faced cop.

"Yeah, stay out of this," echoed a few others.

"As for you," continued the man, turning back to Jamie. "Calling you a Gotham cop is a stretch, but even so, you outta be able to get where I'm coming from here. These are terrorists, not some two-bit lowlifes. Ain't no one going to miss them, with all the bodies around here."

"Don't do this." Jamie shook his head. "We got rules about these things. These scumbags got rights."

Groan and sounds of scoffing rang out amongst the crowd. "Rights? Rules? Seriously?" The cop snorted. "I thought you was one of 'em that was up fighting here. Thought you knew this was a war."

"War's over now." Jamie answered.

"And technically, even prisoners of war got rights." Danny put in. "Little thing we have called the Geneva Convention."

"We don't make rules just for the times when we like them." Jamie said. "Shooting them in battle is one thing, but we need to hold on to these guys until we can get a court to decide WHEN to shoot them."

"Oh, for the love of…" The man threw up his hands. "…haven't you been listening to anything these men have been saying?" He asked, pointing at the sullen row of prisoners. "That bomb is going to go off any second! These men are never gonna see the inside of a jail cell, much less the business end of a needle. None of us are going to live past today!"

"Then let's go out like cops." Jamie answered.


"...reports of Gothamites trickling out by the West Wayne Tunnel." Garret brought up the image on the screen. "They've been suppressing the news for now, but it's just a matter of time until it gets out. And if that man on the bridge was right in what he told the officer…"

"This is going to end badly either way." Frank chewed his lip. "Right. Well, our first concern is home. I want a team by Zuccotti park to prevent reprisals, and three squads of riot police on standby."

"Yes sir." One of the chiefs around the Situation Table nodded.

"Commissioner…" Garret hesitated. "You may want to think about the statement you're going to have to issue…"

Frank closed his eyes.

"Good lord!" One of the chiefs said suddenly, pointing at the screen. "What is that?"


There was a dull boom across the city. All the cops in the courtyard ducked instinctively.


"Hang on…" Henry sat up in his chair as a new image filled the screen. "We've got something… flying?"

Break

Nothing happened. The cops slowly stood up, looked around.


"Ohmigawd what IS dat ting?" One of the nurses clustered around the television squinted at the set.

"Hey, isn't that that one Bat thing? You know, they showed it in the chase scene way back in…"

"SHhh!" Linda quieted the others. "They're saying something."


Danny looked at Jamie. Jamie looked at Danny.


"...the aircraft is ESCAPING from Gotham City, the question on everyone's mind is will this action ignite the bomb…"

"Sean?" asked Jake. "Whaddaya think that ball thing attached to the helicopter is?"


"Huh." Jamie let out a little laugh. "Guess I was expecting that bomb to be a bit—"


Nikki's computer screen suddenly flashed white and she looked away.


M

It was like a single second of pure noise. A thunderclap, but a thunderclap so loud and complete as to blank out all other sound. It threw the cops off their feet, knocked the thugs to the ground, shattered every window on the block.


Erin was frozen. Everyone in the break room was frozen. Thomas, the District Attorney himself, was staring at the television in slack-jawed disbelief.

The commentator broke the silence.

"Oh… oh my god."


Danny picked himself up. The ringing in his ears was starting to fade. Every bone in his body hurt, but he had to get up, he had to see…

Everyone was all right. The police officers were getting back up, each with similar looks of disbelief, patting themselves to make sure everything was still attached. The terrorists looked shocked, as though they couldn't understand what had happened. Jamie got up beside him, staring around in wonder. All around the square, not a soul was harmed, and all the buildings were still standing.

And then someone started cheering.


A/N: Whew! Had to rewatch a couple scenes to get the context for this bit. If anyone's wondering, Frank's whole police petition, in my head, took place the day before the fight-say the day Jamie and Danny nearly escaped the city but didn't. It's just interspersed the way it is to allow me to break up the courthouse fight. The way it's constructed is one reason I'm not totally happy with this chapter, but it's late and I'm too tired to fix all the issues. Maybe I'll come back later and clean it up.

One thing that I AM happy is how this allowed me to clear up a few plot holes that I felt the movie didn't have time to address. How did Bruce Wayne get into the city, for instance, and why were there city cops positioned in a military blockade? I was going to include a scene where Jamie and Danny painted the gasoline bat onto the bridge, and then decided that was too ludicrous. I was pretty proud of the Underground Railroad connection, though.

One more chapter in this story. Been a wild ride, but I will say I'm ready for it to end.