Follow-Up Investigations

Calling last night a disaster was putting it mildly. Halloween 2.0 as the press was calling it was a nightmare in more ways than one. Yes, there was the property damage, but there was also the human costs. Hospitals were still jampacked from what he had heard, so much so they were having to outsource to others as far as fifty miles outside of Gotham.

It was times like these Gordon hated his job. The demands to know that everything that could be done to apprehend the people responsible, this False Face Society, was being done were neverending. The press conference he had ended a while ago still hadn't satisfied some people.

The commissioner didn't blame them. He couldn't. Some shadowy organization comes out of nowhere and terrorizes the city as it did, it's enough to bring back memories of the last times the city had been attacked. From Victor Fries to the Joker, those were things the public wanted to put out of their minds and forget about.

All of that wasn't on the forefront of his mind. No, there was something else that concerned him and the ramifications of it…

Out there in front of City Hall. While he and his men were being held back by those False Facers, as the media was starting to call them, they had received help from an unexpected source.

A fist struck the masked man's face, momentum forcing the man's body to continue forward until his center of gravity became too unstable and forced the rest of him to fall limply to the ground.

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the memory. That man had dressed like him, identical in every way. And his movements.

He grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and forced it to a side, slamming a fist into the side of the masked goon's face.

His movements, the way he fought...he knew what he was doing. He was on a level that those False Facers could only dream of. It was so quick and brutal that it was over in minutes.

Bat-shaped projectiles struck two of the men in their heads, taking them out as they fell back and down the steps behind them. The third had managed to block the projectile aimed at him though he suffered when his handgun impacted his face. The caped figure leapt at the criminal knocking him back and off the steps, down towards the pavement below.

If he had had any doubts before, they had been nearly wiped away. No copycats were capable of that level of skill or prowess. Yet it defied the one fact that he had known for the past few years, that he was dead. Had someone competent enough picked up where he had left off?

As soon as the last man had been taken out, the masked interloper had raised his head up and made direct eye contact with the commissioner. Eye contact was established for several seconds until the vigilante raised a hand up threw something at the crowd. A cloud of smoke enveloped him, allowing him to escape.

The disappearing act was a clencher. It may have been out in the open and their vision blocked, but what really cinched it was a statement from the least likely person: Harvey Dent. The district attorney had witnessed that their unexpected savior had dealt with the gunman that had managed to get into City Hall. This next piece of information occurred after Dent had pulled him to a side and admitted that he had tried to speak with him. The potential imitation of Batman had responded to the civil servant with silence and when he had looked away, vanished.

That disappearing act, Gordon knew it well. Hearing that persuaded him into believing that this was the real deal, not some copycat or imitation.

What that meant to him on a personal level…

This all led him up to now. He had called in Montoya on an update to her investigation. With Dent's testimony, he knew this was information that the detective needed. With her in his office, sitting across from him with his desk between them, they traded greetings before getting down to business.

"I am assuming you were busy like the rest of us last night so I won't ask about it. What I want is an update. What have you found out?" he asked the young woman.

"Are you sure this is an appropriate time, commissioner?" Montoya asked him in answer. "I would think that you'd be more concerned about the False Face Society than whether or not someone is killing people under the name of Batman."

"Believe me, I am, and this is part of all that," Gordon told her. "An incident happened last night, something I believe might help you with your investigation."

"What is it?" He had her attention now.

"A vigilante appeared at City Hall last night, resolved the situation there almost single handedly," he explained. "You probably should interview Harvey Dent about it, but from what I learned, I believe that the Batman has returned to Gotham. The real one." She was opening her mouth to ask him a question, one that he already knew and cut her off to answer it. "No, from what I remember he wasn't a killer. This means that he isn't responsible for those mobster murders."

"You know this for sure?" Montoya asked.

"More than you know. So, since it's been established between the two of us that the real Batman is operating in Gotham once more, what evidence have you found that points towards him or exonerates him of these crimes?"

"Motive. He doesn't have any. As you said, you know him, he doesn't kill," Montoya answered. "I did find something, maybe it's nothing but there's potential in it."

"What is it?" Gordon questioned.

"There was a link between the four mobsters," Montoya said. "They all were shareholders in front corporations. Here's the thing, whenever all four names appeared, there was a fifth one. This name also showed up when it was just three of them sometimes. Carl Beaumont."

"Who is Carl Beaumont?" He raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name.

"From all appearances, a legitimate businessman. One that hasn't been in the country for several years. I'm having trouble trying to locate him. I did find out his daughter is in town. I wanted to interview her to see if she knew anything. It's not much but…"

"You have to check all leads, no matter what they are or how unlikely they'll lead to a resolution," he summed up. "Check it out, detective. If I or anyone else finds out something, you will be notified."

"Thank you, Commissioner." Montoya nodded her thanks and took her leave, not needing him to dismiss her.

No sooner had she left that he had a newcomer enter his office. One that was entirely welcomed despite the circumstances.

"Sarah," he said in greeting, his lips curving into a small smile.

"What was that about?" the lieutenant asked.

"Helping out an open case," he replied. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"More like what can I help you with?" Sarah said. "If you need someone to take your place for future press conferences, I'll be willing to do it."

"Getting ready to take my job?" he quipped.

"Not necessarily."

"Well, you can have it. I'm getting too old for all this." He paused, something about her eyes catching his attention. It was a far-off look she was sporting, almost as if she wasn't here right now. "Sarah? Is something wrong?"

"Oh. No, nothing," she shook her head. "I guess I'm still coming to terms with last night. I thought it was bad when it was the Joker behind it. Who is this Black Mask and what does he want?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

Last night had been busy. Property damage, robbery, assaults, you name it, it happened all courtesy of the so-called False Face Society. Early estimates of the night's damages were to be in the tens of millions, hopefully not over a hundred, but that's where inflation would come to play. Regardless, there was a lot of damage control to do and shifting about the rubble to figure out why each and every place had been targeted.

That's what the super computer was doing at the moment, processing each and every bit of information gathered and analyzing it to form a pattern. One thing that Batman crossed off as a major reason for the attacks was the multiple bank robberies. Some of them had been perpetrated by people inspired by Black Mask, so those were just random hits; as for the actual men of the False Face Society, there wasn't much incentive outside of money to explain their actions. Considering the breadth of the attacks, Batman highly doubted all of this was just so this new criminal group could get cash quick.

Much like his musings in the Batmobile, before it was struck with a RPG, everything felt like a giant diversion, masking the true intent of Black Mask's agenda. An alert from the computer interrupted the dark-clad man's thoughts as he focused on the new window on the screen. There was a list of other businesses that had been robbed displayed in the window, to which Batman glanced over.

From what he read, it was safe to say a weapon wasn't being made. There was a distinct lack of technology corporations on the list, what with most of their inventories going untouched. As he delved deeper into the results, he found no signs of stolen technology or explosives. That was another motive crossed off.

However, that was when something caught his eye. A chemical plant was on the list, and considering Crane's recent involvement with this group, that was a red flag to him. Pulling up the inventory list for the plant, along with the list of stolen property, he immediately spotted familiar-looking ingredients, something that made his eyes narrow.

"Computer: find other robberies at chemical plants," Batman ordered, sitting back as the computer began to process his command. Then, as an added thought, "Computer: include pharmaceutical companies into search." Seconds later, his desired results appeared, to which he eagerly began to read. With each passing second, he added another piece to the puzzle that was Black Mask's motive.

Every chemical that was stolen from these plants and companies were all part of Crane's fear toxin. It seemed Crane was right that the False Face Society was in need of more supplies. Unfortunately, the logical extension of these findings was that these people were making more fear toxin—and quite a large supply too if the amount of chemicals stolen were any indication.

"So, found anything yet?" Zatanna asked from somewhere behind him. The magician had been taking a break, "visiting the little girls' room" as she had put it.

Zana had really earned her keep last night, all things considered. Stopping a robbery at one of his subsidiaries was no mean feat; having most of the suspects quivering in her presence was an added bonus too. Apparently Zatanna had turned one of the men, no, a woman, into a newt for some reason—she had been vague as to why. Further questioning had led him to believe that she turned her back to normal after awhile.

Or so she said: "She got better."

"It seems last night was just one big distraction," Batman informed her. "While we were busy stopping all of the robberies and violence, the False Face Society robbed multiple chemical plants and pharmaceutical companies, taking large quantities of ingredients used for Crane's fear toxin."

"That's not good," the magician remarked before she frowned. "You know, I'm getting the strangest sense of deja vu. Didn't the Joker do something similar?"

The vigilante nodded. "That's right. Fortunately none of these False Facers are as erratic as the Joker, so it was easier to figure out what they wanted."

"Unfortunately, that means someone's taking a page right out of the Joker's playbook," Zatanna countered. "Know anyone that would want to emulate him?"

"Jokerz for one," he replied. "But they're mostly miscreants and degenerates. None of them have the mental capacity to plot something this big. Follow through with it as a plan, sure, but not taking the time to coordinate each and every attack."

"So you're saying this Black Mask guy has some sort of sanity—as much as someone who would do something like this can have."

"So it would seem."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two of them contemplated their verbal exchange. That was until Batman continued, "What's important is what Black Mask intends to do with the fear toxin."

"Well, if you're going to make something, you're going to use it," Zatanna replied. "I think we need to figure out how he plans on using it instead of why."

That was a legitimate point—it also gave him an idea. "Computer: check to see if any equipment or technology used to administer gaseous or aerosol substances were stolen." Waiting, he stared at the screen, awaiting for a window to appear with the results.

When it did, he was half-relieved, half-troubled. There wasn't any conclusive result that such equipment had been stolen last night. Either the False Face Society had yet to obtain such equipment, or they already had it. While he preferred the first option, which would allow him to predict their next move, it was always best to expect the second.

However, that line of thinking would be pushed aside as a new window popped up. The moment he read it, Batman felt his jaw tighten as his hands clenched tightly. People had died last night. Damn it.

Accessing the window, crime scene photos of each death appeared. Though he had seen plenty of death in his time, Batman was surprised to find a startling lack of bodies. In fact, the only commonality with each photo was the presence of a head, a pool of blood beneath it, and not much else. The killer had taken the bodies with them, leaving only the head with an animal mask placed over their...face…

"Bruce, tell me if I'm wrong, but those look like the masks those False Facers were wearing," Zatanna spoke up. Just staring at the masks of a snake, a goat, a cat, and a bear made Batman think to the people he had encountered at City Hall.

"I believe you're right," the vigilante agreed. Since these scenes were under police investigation since the earlier morning hours, it stood to reason the coroner was in possession of the heads. Quickly, he accessed the GCPD network and searched for any coroner reports.

Thankfully one was available, though it was a preliminary draft. Reading it, Batman was quick to notice the description of the wound that separated head from shoulders. It was a near identical match to the wound found on Boxy Bennett. So, the mysterious phantom had been out there as well.

Though it was curious why this murdering vigilante had suddenly targeted False Facers, it made Batman wonder if there was a link, as Crane had implied, between the Valestra Crime Family and the False Face Society. That was something worth investigating.

"I believe I need to have a talk with Andrea," he announced then, which caused Zatanna's face to drop in response. "She may have some idea of who the False Face Society is."

"Oh, is that all?" the dark-haired woman asked darkly.

Batman turned his head to stare at her. "Her father is my top suspect for this murderer. She's the only one with some inkling of the people he was involved with. If Carl Beaumont is indeed involved with the False Face Society, then she may know a name or two that will be helpful."

"If you say so," she responded, not the least bit convinced.

It was going to be a long drive to Gotham if Zatanna was going to be this moody. So, the dark-clad man decided it was best to give her something to preoccupy her. "I need you to find out the identities of the False Facers we apprehended last night. Check to see if they had any contact with Sal Valestra and his cohorts. I'll also need you to find out where the False Face Society is sending the chemicals they stole."

"And what do you intend on doing?"

"Some...field work."

It wasn't normal to have someone male in the Birdcage, the Bat's visit notwithstanding. In fact, there hadn't been an invited guest ever.

Yet, a rather robust man wearing a pig mask was slumped against a wall, his legs spread out widely. His arms hung above his head, chains hanging from the wall wrapping around his wrists. He'd been unconscious since they had brought him here...after he had blown up Huntress' bike.

Yeah, she was still pissed about that.

They had been waiting for the guy to wake up. That's what they agreed upon. But as the hours ticked by, Huntress was getting impatient. Finally, when she couldn't wait anymore, she stomped up to him and kicked him across the face, snapping his head to a side as he woke up.

"Ahh, ahh, ahh!" the man suddenly cried out, his arms vainly trying to go to his face, but having no luck. "Mother, I promise, I didn't use your magic wand again! Promise!"

Oh, that was such a nasty image.

"H!" Black Canary shouted. "The hell are you doing?!"

"Waking him up," the purple-clad woman growled, which immediately got Pig-guy's attention.

"Hey, you're the bitch in the street," he jeered. "Did you fall in love with me? Is that why you brought me to your love pad? With friends?"

The three women stared at the fat tub-o-lard dispassionately. Then, "H," Black Canary said, "you can kick him again."

Ha! Glad to see BC was seeing things her way.

Deciding to go with a front snap kick, Huntress raised her leg up, bent at the knee before she lashed out with her foot, slamming it against the pig-masked man's forehead. The back of his skull rammed into the wall with a dull thud, though that unfortunately didn't stop his motor mouth. "Ooooh, you gals like it rough. So do I! Please, give me another!"

Oh great, of all the guys they had to take for interrogation, they had to pick the masochist. Jesus H. Christ, this was going to Hell fast.

Deciding to quit beating around the bush, Huntress reached a hand up to her belt and pulled out her crossbow. Letting the light of the room gleam off the aluminum sides of the arrow head, she then kneeled down in front of Pig-guy and pointed the crossbow right at groin, making sure the arrow point scraped against his pants. Immediately the pig flinched, doing his best to hold still.

In a deceptively calm voice, the purple-clad vigilante said, "Say anything disgusting like that again, and I'm going to make sure you bleed to death once my arrow rips off your nuts. Got it?"

Pig-guy slowly nodded his understanding. "Okie-dokey," he answered weakly.

The corner of her mouth twitching up in a smirk, Huntress then said, "Now, you're going to answer every single question I've got. You're going to answer them truthfully and without hesitation—that is if you want to go through life with both your balls attached. Lie to me once, I put an arrow through your manparts. Lie to me again, and my friend Katana over there is going to start carving bacon out of your fat."

About then, the sound of Katana sharpening her sword could be heard. The Asian woman had been at it for awhile, so the sharp shing! of her sharpening stone sliding up and down the edge of her blade made for an ominous atmosphere.

"Now, now, no need to make threats," the pig whined. "I'll be a good little piggie, yes I will."

"Good. Now, first question: tell me everything you know about Black Mask."

"Black Mask?" the man repeated. "The boss man? The man with the plan who tells all the good little piglets to go out and play?"

Huntress felt her one of her eyelids twitch. "Yeah, the guy on the jumbotron who trashed the city."

"What can I say that I already haven't told you? He's got a plan to rule Gotham, make it his personal playground so that we—that's the False Face Society, so you know—can do whatever we want. It's really rather brilliant, ya know."

"Really," the dark-haired woman deadpanned. "Tell me more, like what the plan is."

The Pig-guy tilted his head to a side. "You know, that's, like, the second question you've asked that really isn't a question. I mean, I'm not even getting the feeling you're using question marks. It's like you're just saying things and expecting me to know that you're asking. Now that I think about it, I could say that about all women."

Huntress stared at him coolly before looking over her shoulder to Black Canary. "What ball should I shoot off first? The right or the left?"

"Well, I am rather partial to my right one," the pig offered helpfully.

The blonde woman merely pressed her hand against her face in aggravation. "This is going nowhere," she complained.

Huntress just stared at the other woman before she shrugged her shoulders. "Alright, I'm shooting them both off."

"Wait!" Pig-guy cried out. "Wait, wait, wait! You haven't even asked me about the fear gas!"

That caused every woman's head to perk up. "Fear gas," Huntress repeated slowly. "Let me guess, it makes you hallucinate your fears, right?"

"Exactamundo! You got it on one try! Ya know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you know just how wonderful that stuff is. I mean really, what a trip!"

"Tell me more about the gas," the purple-clad vigilante pressed. "What does Black Mask have to do with this?"

"Hey, you finally asked me a question! Bravo!" the fat man praised her. "And to answer: why else would he have fear gas? I mean really, it's to make all the boring sacks of meat you call people afraid. It's called fear gas for cryin' out loud!"

"How is the gas part of his plan?" Black Canary spoke up then.

"I feel like I'm repeating myself," Pig-guy grumbled out loud to himself. "You'd think saying that he's going to use it on people would be an acceptable answer, but apparently not. What is the American education system coming to these days?"

"What I mean," the blonde growled through gritted teeth, "is how he's going to administer the gas."

"Now that's a better question. Black Mask has all these canisters of the stuff and he's putting them in missiles so that the helicopters can fire them."

Helicopters? Black Mask had helicopters? Since when? Huntress had to shake her head to rid her head of those questions. They weren't all that important, especially since it would take them nowhere. Instead she asked, "Where are the helicopters now?"

"Now that...I don't know. You can shoot my balls off right now cause I've got no clue."

That made the dark-haired woman blink owlishly. That was...unexpected. Looking to BC, she saw the same look on her face, so she would be no help. Turning to Katana, she then said in a questioning tone, "Katana? Is he telling the truth?"

The Asian woman was silent for a moment before she answered succinctly, "Yes."

Well damn, looked like she couldn't hurt the bastard. Pity.

Unfortunately, that left her at a loss of what to ask next. With no further questions, what did they do with Porky here?

"So, is it my turn to ask questions?" Pig-guy asked giddily. "Okay? Great! When you three—"

Huntress slammed her fist into the man's mouth, stopping whatever gross, disgusting thing he was about to say. She really didn't want to know.

Christ, she was tired. Barbara stretched her arms, trying to work some of the soreness out of them. Even though she had been making it a habit to patrol the city late at night, that coming with its own brand of exhausting, she had not been prepared for Halloween 2.0.

She didn't think Dick or Tim had been either.

"Man, I'm glad school was cancelled. I don't think I can move," Tim groaned.

"I'm still feeling pumped," Dick admitted. "I'm wired."

Yes, it was conference call again.

"So what were you two able to do? After I left," she asked as she raised her arms over her head.

"Things started to cool down," Dick reported. "We had some trouble with one of the cops trying to arrest us. He managed to grab Tim, I mean, Robin here, and I had to pry him away. That guy was...he was something else."

Barbara frowned. "Was he overweight, dirty-looking, and had five o'clock shadow?" she inquired.

"Beefy fingers, don't forget," Tim added. "I can still see the bruising on my arm."

"I think that might have been Bullock," she told them. "He doesn't like vigilantes."

"I think we can tell," Dick replied. "What about you? What did you do?"

"Nothing much, just had to save my stepmother from being executed by some False Facers. Unfortunately, the truck got away so I wasn't able to figure out what they were up to," she said. She stopped to take the time to pop her neck, and audible crack coming from the vertebrae. Oh, that felt good. "Since I'm not crying, I managed to save Sarah. I got out of there quick. By the way, I had to test my rope out there. It worked if you were wondering."

"You didn't try it out on a skyscraper, I'm hoping," Tim deadpanned. "You could have gotten yourself hurt."

"Says the guy with the bruised arm," she retorted. "My equipment worked, that's all that mattered and I am here."

"I'm actually more worried about what all of that was about," Dick stated.

"What do you mean by that?" Tim asked.

"Why did this False Face Society pull this stunt. It was like the Joker's rampage from a few years ago. The Joker had a reason for everything he did. So what was Black Mask's reason?" She could hear Dick grow more and more frustrated as he spoke.

"That stuff. You know, from the truck we found that Batman took from us?" Tim spoke up. "You think there might be a connection? Maybe last night was a smokescreen so that he could move it without anyone knowing."

That was a scary thought. What made it scarier was that none of them knew what that stuff was or what it did outside of the program that Barbara had been running on it. They knew that someone did know what it was but he wasn't sharing that information.

If they didn't know what it was or what it did, how could they defend themselves from it? Especially if there was a lot more of it.

"That's a thought. What do you think Barb—I mean—"

"Call me by my name," she interrupted Dick. "As to what I think, that's a good possibility. When I was in that parking garage, one of those False Facers was driving that van out of there without waiting to see if I was killed. There must have been something really sensitive in it, something they didn't want me seeing."

"Okay, worse case scenario, that van had more of that stuff in it. If it wasn't the only one, that means that there's a shit ton of it in Gotham somewhere," Tim concluded. "What do those guys want to do with it? What are they going to do with it?"

"Nothing good," Dick stated grimly. "But we'll be ready for them."

As much as Barbara wanted to agree with Dick, she had her doubts. She was uncertain about this whole mess, and that scared her more than anything.