Ultimatum

2:27 PM

Diana's words were on a constant loop in his head. It had been that way since he left Gotham and returned to the cave. He could feel it in his gut as every second ticked away, bringing him that much closer to the Justice League's deadline.

As much as he wanted to be on top of the situation, he wasn't. He was no closer to figuring out Harvey Dent's location than he had been at the beginning of the month. Now he had a second gang headed by Roman Sionis and everything was spiraling out of his control.

He needed to get control back.

Somewhere behind him in the cave, Cassandra was suiting up. She had stationed herself at the super computer until he had returned. The first words he said to her was to suit up and she had done just that.

As much as he didn't want to, they were going to have to brave the daylight hours. They were going on into the afternoon now, which left them a little less than ten hours to go. That wasn't a lot of time to perform a thorough investigation.

Currently he was backing up every bit of data he had on the case onto a thumb drive. This was just part one of what needed to be done. Part two entailed rallying enough help to the cause.

He had Batgirl so far. Hopefully the others would be just as eager.

A minute passed before he received a message that the download was complete. Ejecting the thumb drive out of the port, he shoved it into a pouch on his belt. Turning his chair around, he looked towards Cassandra, seeing the young girl putting the finishing touches on her suit. She was maskless as she made the adjustments to make her armor fit better.

Good. Reaching a hand up to the side of his cowl, he activated his comm link. "Oracle, come in," he said.

There was a pause before he heard the computerized voice answer him. "This is Oracle, Batman."

"I need you to send a message to everyone you can," he told her. "I'm calling a meeting to inform everyone of what's going down. I'm sending you the coordinates so that everyone knows where to go."

Oracle was quiet for several moments. "You...want to meet with everyone? Do they need to bring anything?"

"Only any relevant information they have on Harvey Dent and the rival gang that attacked the GCPD's caravan the other night. I'll go into more detail at the meeting."

Turning back to the computer, he used one hand to enter the command that sent the specified coordinates to the hacker. "They have half an hour to show up. Anyone that doesn't show up will not be included further."

"Are you sure? Half an hour isn't a lot of time."

"It's all the time we can spare now. Batman, out."

And with that, he cut off the line. Taking in a deep breath, he then sighed. Hopefully he knew what he was doing.

2:33 PM

Jeremiah was not happy about Dr. Quinzel's findings. The neatly typed up report that she had handed in earlier was still on his desk, though in a more crumpled state due to how tightly he had begun to hold it.

Even through the immense exhaustion he found himself experiencing today, the psychiatrist found he couldn't hold back the anger he felt. Each damning word that served to support Hugo Strange to remain in this facility was an insult to him, and he knew, oh he knew, that somehow, someway, the professor had gotten to the young intern.

There was no other explanation for it. She had been supportive in his decision to force Strange out of Arkham and send him over to Blackgate. She had agreed that he was faking before, conning the system to get out of his rightful punishment. So...where had this change of heart come from? It didn't make any sense!

At least, it didn't make any sense if you thought that Quinzel had come to this conclusion on her own. There was no way in hell that she had. Yes, he could almost see the hand holding hers, writing what it wanted and not what needed to be written down.

Jeremiah already recognized that speaking with Quinzel about this was about as futile as trying to convince a Republican to increase funding for mental health care. It wasn't happening despite the lip service to the contrary. Ironically enough, Strange never had much trouble convincing others to do what he wanted before.

That was how he knew that it was that bastard who wrote this report. Even if he hadn't typed it up, he might as well have done so.

Not that the head of the asylum could prove that. Not only was Strange good at making other people his puppets, he was also good at covering his own tracks. On paper at least; his own breach of that schema was recent but it hadn't occurred a second time. Strange had learned from past mistakes and had adapted.

As much as Jeremiah would have wanted to shake some sense into Quinzel, it would be a wasted effort and it would put him on the wrong side of some nasty assault charges. If Strange had Quinzel in his back pocket, there was nothing he could do about that. It angered and infuriated him that he was so helpless in this matter.

The exhausted and frustrated doctor could almost see the smug expression on that bald bastard's face, taunting him with his supposed superiority.

No. No! Jeremiah couldn't let this stand. He had only just escaped Strange's grasp before and he was no longer willing to dance to that man's tune anymore. He had had too much power over his life before and now Jeremiah was not going to bow down simply before his bearded royal highness wanted him to.

There were going to be some words between him and Strange, and they weren't going to be ones that Strange would like. If Strange wanted to be in the asylum so much, then it was going to be far from a pleasant experience for him, Jeremiah determined.

In fact, it was going to be downright unpleasant. And what better way to make that rankle in the bastard's keister than by telling him himself.

Grimly, Jeremiah stood up and left his office, heading down the hallway to confront his former colleague and now sworn enemy. This was something that was long overdue.

And Jeremiah was not going to be backing down from this or from Strange ever again.

2:56 PM

Opening her mailbox, Gilda Dent reached for its contents and looked through them. Junk mail and a bill for today with nothing extra in it. Just another average day, if this day could be called average.

A bombing downtown had disrupted a lot. Businesses and stores were closed for the day, including hers. All so that emergency services and government agents could seal off the area where City Hall used to be. It sounded like a terrorist attack at first, before…

...before the man that was Two-face claimed responsibility. Even had work not have closed for the day, she would have had to call in sick. Such...such a revelation like this…

She needed to be strong. She couldn't allow the actions of the thing wearing her husband's face tear her down. She got enough pity and sympathy at work, and neither of those two things paid the bills.

Down the street, an unmarked car watched her, two police officers keeping an eye out. They were more interested in anyone who happened to put something into her mailbox rather than removing anything. Gilda had begun to get used to them, knowing exactly what they were there for.

Closing the mailbox shut, she began to head towards her front door as a car drove down the street in front of her home. That car slowed down as it began passing the unmarked car, a sight the working woman did not see due to her back being turned. As the moving car passed the officers, two of the car windows facing them slid open.

The gunshots caused Gilda to freeze up, petrified by the unexpected noise that shattered the suburban quiet. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder as the offending car came to a stop in front of her house. One of the doors opened and a tall, suited man stepped out, eyes trained on her as he began making his way towards her.

Fear filled her up, jumpstarting her fight or flight instinct. Her brain chose flight and she began running as fast as she could towards her front entrance. Just as she managed to grab the door handle, arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her away. She screamed, squirming in the man's grasp and dropping her mail.

She kicked with her legs, hit with her hands, trying to do anything to escape the person behind her. One of the man's arms slipped away, encouraging her to intensify her struggles. Then a gun barrel was jammed into the side of her face, a voice demanding for her to "quit fighting."

Her fighting lessened as the fear of death took hold. The man abducting her grunted then began dragging her back towards the car. The next thing she knew, she was shoved into the back seat, her tall abductor sliding in and shutting the door behind him.

The car sped away then, leaving the neighborhood and heading into the city proper.

3:00 PM

They had all came. Seated at the round table, everyone from the Birds of Prey, to Nightwing, to even Green Arrow had heard and accepted his call.

They were in a brightly lit room, one of the bunkers Batman had throughout the city. This one resided in the Bowery, underneath one of the older, decrepit buildings. The room was originally a bomb shelter, but that had been changed after the vigilante found it. After a redesign, it was now mainly concrete with fluorescent light, making it somewhat blinding if one didn't have the proper protective gear.

"Thank you for coming," Batman said, seated in one of the chairs. To his left was Batgirl, who looked more like a child sitting at the grown-ups' table. A couple, like Huntress and Manhunter, were leaned back in their chairs, their arms crossing over their chests. Nightwing was leaning forward in his chair, his arms on the table with his hands clasped together. The rest sat in their chairs calmly, comfortably, their eyes on him.

"As you're well aware of, Gotham is in a state of chaos," he started. "Harvey Dent has taken control of the former Thorne crime family and has been leaving behind a wrath of destruction in his wake. I have been a step behind him at every turn.

"However, Dent isn't the only one out there now. Roman Sionis has returned. He's currently challenging Dent for control of the criminal underworld and things have gotten worse."

Green Arrow raised a hand, causing Batman to stop and look at the blond man. "Umm, question," he spoke, "for those of us not familiar with all of this, who is Roman Sionis?"

"Sionis is also known as the Black Mask. A few years ago, he headed a group known as the False Face Society and attempted to gas the city with a weaponized hallucinogen that elicited a fear reaction. When he was confronted at the Sionis Steel Mill, he managed to get away and has been laying low ever since."

"Ah. That explains a lot."

"So now we have two destructive guys battling each other out to be the top gangster," Huntress summarized. "Just great. Exactly what we need."

"So it's possible this Black Mask guy also has that fear hallucinogen too," Manhunter suggested. "What sort of reaction are we talking about?"

"Imagine your worst fear brought to life," Black Canary said, drawing the attention of the room to her. "Let's say you're afraid of spiders, for example. This gas can make you see a giant spider trying to eat you."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," Green Arrow remarked. "You've seen this happen before?"

"More like experienced it," Huntress replied. "Me and the other Birds were dosed with it once." She then glanced to Batman. "Batman too."

"What happened?"

"Well, we did what our instincts told us to do: we fought each other."

"As in you three fought each other?"

"No, the three of us fought Batman, twice. The first time he was drugged, the second time we were."

Green Arrow perked his head up at that. "Twenty bucks says you gals kicked his butt."

"I'll put ten on Batman," Nightwing added quietly.

"We're getting off subject," Manhunter interrupted, glaring at the two men. "Does the GCPD know Black Mask is back? If not, they need to be told."

"No," Batman said. "After the bombing last night, the last thing we want to do is tell the GCPD. There's too strong of a chance someone in the precinct will leak that information to the press and once the press gets a hold of it, the rest of Gotham will panic. We don't need a couple million frightened bystanders making things worse."

"That's a fair point," Manhunter agreed. "That could be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

"There's also the possibility it could add more grease to this fire," Batman added then. "Some of you are unaware of this—the Birds being excluded—but Sionis originally had an assassin he used to kill off unnecessary pieces of his organization. They were called the Phantasm and they eventually realized they were being used. If they heard Sionis was back, it could draw them back as well."

"And the last thing we need now are more dead gangsters," Huntress grunted.

"As interesting as all of this is, why did you call us all here?" Green Arrow then asked. "I really doubt you just wanted to tell us an old mob boss was back."

Batman nodded. "That's correct. In light of everything that's transpired, it's time we all joined forces, pooled our collective efforts, and put an end to this brewing gang war. If this spills out further into the streets than it already has, we'll lose Gotham."

Several eyes widened at his words. Silence hung in the room so thickly, it could've been cut with a knife.

And then, "You can count me in," Nightwing said.

"Same here," agreed Huntress.

Batman turned his head to the Birds, all of whom looked to each other, giving brief nods before returning their collective attention to him. "We're in too," Black Canary said.

Green Arrow raised a hand up to scratch his beard. "I know I'm not normally one of you Gotham kids, but I'm willing to lend my bow to you."

"Way to make this a Lord of the Rings scene," Huntress snarked, smirking at the archer.

"Thank you," Batman said, trying to stop this meeting was going off track again. "However, before we go any further, you must know that we are now under a time constraint. We have until midnight tonight to put a stop to Dent and Sionis."

All eyes were on him again, but this time it wasn't because they were paying attention. "You care to explain that?" Nightwing questioned.

Glancing from face to face, the Dark Knight said, "I've received an ultimatum from the Justice League. They've been contacted by the Governor and their presence has been requested in helping take down Harvey Dent. They've agreed to the request and will be taking over at midnight."

Again, there was silence until Green Arrow broken. "I don't know about the rest of you, but that doesn't sound like a bad idea. I mean, this has been going on for how long now? Several months? And so far no progress has been made on anyone's part. Maybe it's time for someone else to take up the reigns."

"That would be catastrophic," Batman responded. "A big reason why we're able to operate in Gotham is because the criminals are scared of us."

"You mean you," Huntress muttered.

"That fear causes them to hesitate when we arrive at the scene. That hesitation represents the margin between life and death for us. If they don't hesitate and shoot immediately, the chances we're killed increases exponentially. When they hesitate, that gives us a second to disarm them before they get a shot off.

"If the Justice League were to come, we lose that hesitation. The criminals will believe we can't take them down without help from people with powers. It will embolden them. And then Gotham returns to when the Mob controlled the city and innocent people are left as collateral damage.

"That's why we need to end this tonight."

"By whatever means necessary?" Green Arrow retorted.

"By the means at hand. I will not lose this city as long as I have breath in this body. This is our home and we can't surrender it to no one. Not even the Justice League."

3:22 PM

Leslie eyed her captor, the disfigured man seemingly preferring her company over his men. Currently, her services weren't required, so she remained sitting in her seat, watching the man who denied her her freedom. At some point, Dent had removed the coin that he carried with him and was currently flipping it, again and again without pause.

Like it was some kind of unconscious habit or coping mechanism.

By now, she had heard about the bombing; who wouldn't have? It had been in the other room where Dent had filmed his confession video and spread the word of his involvement. Her glare of disapproval did not appear to have any effect over him.

Time passed with no communication between them. The activity in the other areas of this...place were louder. Where this was, she did not know. What she did know was that she was growing tired of her captivity, as unwanted as it was in the first place.

Finally, unable to stand the silence anymore, she broke. "What do you hope to gain from all this?"

With his unscarred, "good side" facing her, the crime lord blinked before giving a noncommittal "hmm?"

"Everything," she continued. "Destroying this city, killing innocent people, claiming responsibility for the destruction of this city's government, what do you think you are achieving?"

Dent snorted. "Is that all, Dr. Thompkins?" he almost drawled.

"You're on a dark path, Harvey," she told him frankly. "The longer you continue it, the more certain your end becomes. This can only end one of two ways: your death or your imprisonment."

"You show such concern for me," Dent smirked, never pausing once in his coin flipping. "Have I grown on you?"

"I care not for the mindless destruction and pointless taking of life," the doctor retorted in disapproval. "That includes you. Even a life like yours, no matter how despicable, remains sacred."

"After all this, you claim that my life is as sacred as the next person? Perhaps instead of caring about what may or may not happen to me, you should care more about what happens to you," Dent replied. "If you've forgotten already, let me remind you that at any time I can end your life. Whether it's because I want to, or if you piss me off with more of that bleeding heart crap, or I happen to feel like it. It doesn't matter. You're only here because I will it."

"We both know that's a lie," she stated, staring Dent down with unblinking eyes.

"And why's that?" Dent challenged, turning his head slightly so that a slight portion of his scarred half came into view.

"We both know that that coin you're flipping decides what you do or don't do," Leslie said, a degree of scorn leaking into her voice as she mentioned the flipping object. "Heads or tails, or good heads or bad heads. You won't make a decision to kill me without consulting it first."

"Is that a challenge?" Dent growled as he turned to face her fully, shooting a glare of his own at her.

"Do you perceive it as? I believe I was stating a fact." Leslie chose not to direct her gaze at the man but to the coin that continued to be flipped without fail. "I don't believe I have ever seen you make any decision without at least consulting it. Tell me, did you flip it before you pressed the button to that explosive?"

The coin flipping stopped abruptly as Dent snatched it out of the air, his knuckles turning white from the tension he placed in his grip. "You think I always need my coin, is that it?" Pulling out and aiming his gun at the doctor, he growled, "Shall I show you how independent I am?"

If he was trying to intimidate her, the disfigured man was failing. Leslie did not say a word, just stared dispassionately back. While the situation was dangerous, she was not about to back down from it. She would not.

Dent adjusted his grip on his instrument of death, steadying the weapon when there was a slight tremor that ran along it. For a moment, Leslie found herself wondering if what she felt now was what her old friend Thomas had once felt when a gun like the one aimed at her had been pointed at him. Then he had his wife and child while she had no such person to protect behind her. Would Dent pull the trigger, just like that gunman from so many years ago had?

A bodily tremor shook the gun, and Dent's eyes darted to his clenched hand momentarily.

Leslie narrowed her eyes. "What's the matter, Harvey? Unable to decide?"

"I'm wondering if you're worth the bullet," Dent snarled back.

"I see," Leslie nearly deadpanned. "Do you need to flip for that as well?"

"Don't test your luck."

"Then do it already," the doctor ordered. "Take control of your life, Harvey. If you want to shoot me, then shoot me. Don't use the coin. Don't use that crutch."

Dent stared at her, probably wondering if she herself had lost her mind. Leslie wondered if she had herself, but she had committed herself. Backing down was not an option.

"Heh. You have guts," Dent chuckled, sweat beading on his forehead. "You...what do you think you're going to accomplish by having me shoot you? Feeling suicidal?"

Leslie did not know what she sought to accomplish or why she was challenging this man as she was. The fact that he hadn't, that was something to grab onto. The hesitation he was displaying, it meant something. At least, she hoped it did.

"Not in the slightest. I happen to believe that we are all in control of our actions. What we choose to do, what we choose not to do, it is all our choice. No one and nothing can change that. Whether or not you say you chose to destroy City Hall does not matter so long as it was your choice and not something else dictating you. Because that is the sign of a man afraid of choice."

Dent grunted. "Is that what you think? That I'm afraid of choice?"

"I don't know, are you?" Leslie raised her eyebrow in question.

The sounds of footsteps outside the room interrupted the intensity of the moment. "I don't have time for this," Dent said as he holstered his gun, the door opening as one of the crime lord's twin lackeys came into sight. Shooting a look at the freckled man, Dent demanded, "What do you want?"

"Some of the guys are thinking about heading into the city, you know, making sure everybody knows that we're not afraid of anything they throw at us," the twin, Min Leslie believed, answered.

"Looks like we'll have to cut this short," Dent said mostly to her as he stood up and adjusted his suit. "I'll be out in a minute," he told Min. "Nobody does anything until I say so."

"Got it," Min nodded before moving out of sight.

"So you insist on continuing this path?" Leslie stated more than asked.

"There's no going back after this Thompkins. There's no choice but to stay the course," Dent said as he began walking away. "Besides, I'm not done yet. I still have some unfinished business with Black Mask. I doubt he's going to take me stealing his bomb plot away from him without getting back at me. Now he's gotta pull something, and I'll be ready to put two in his head when he does."

4:39 PM

Nightwing had already taken off, heading to the coordinates provided by Batman. Even though it was still daylight out, it seemed there would be no rest for the righteous. That included her.

It was obvious by now that they could no longer sit on their asses as this conflict grew larger and larger with ever increasing stakes. That also meant upping their game, and Barbara was going to do that by locating where Two-face was hiding and spreading that information to all the right people.

Those people would have to be the vigilantes. The GCPD had their hands full with isolating what was left of City Hall.

So far, she had been able to narrow down the whereabouts of her target to a few city blocks. That was smaller than an entire community, which was where she had left off earlier to do that task that had come from the Dark Knight himself. Then it was back to business, trying desperately to find something, anything.

Right now, she was starting a search on the locations of any clubs in the area that she had pinpointed to be the most likely location of Two-face's current base. His MO had had him setting up shop in various clubs, whether their purposes were for gambling, socializing, or entertainment. What were the odds that he would change drastically at this point?

Meanwhile, she still needed to figure out what that dead space in the historical section of the city was all about. As she had mentioned to Dick before he had suited up, it wasn't natural. Phone signals, radio signals, anything that sent a signal should be leaving that area. With technology as developed as it was and the power of Wifi connecting more and more people, to have a dead space like that in an urban environment? No freaking way.

That meant some more digging, the kind that required a manual touch. She had to dig into some deep places, but she had managed to find something that might account for it.

A signal jammer, and a very sophisticated one. Top of the line, and kept hush hush. No sense letting anybody know of it.

That was a weird way of looking at it, since the hacker bet that you could make some serious bank off of producing and selling such things. With the flip of a switch, you could cancel out any and all signals be they radio, digital, and even of the satellite variety. That last one brought up a lot of problems, as a lot of private interests would get up in arms should someone use one of these jammers on their satellites.

Then there was the fact that certain government agencies with the nasty habit of spying on people would loathe such a device. It would make their jobs of listening on conversations all that much more harder.

Put it all together, that meant someone in the historical district didn't want to chance anybody listening in on them. It was deliberate. So who in Gotham would want to deliberately hide themselves like that? One of the obvious answers was Two-face, but nothing in that area fit that man's MO—

Oh, the search was done. Funny how she was starting to go over modus operandi there. Okay, what was there?

The Second Chance.

If there was nothing that blatantly said that this was Two-face's newest base of operations, Barbara didn't know what would. There was something poetic about that name. Perhaps this would be their second chance at taking this maniac down once and for all. First, she needed some visuals.

Efficiently, she did just that, her eyes narrowing in anticipation. Oh yeah, this was a dead ringer. Unfortunately, there were no CCTV cameras in the area and the traffic cams had been deactivated some time ago. That meant there was no footage of anything happening in that area in the last twenty-four to thirty-six hours.

Might as well turn them back on.

As she did so, she did not notice when the dead space that hovered over the historical district disappeared from her screen. She noticed when a sharp hiss sounded from her speakers, a voice interrupting all broadcasts.

Jerking her head up, she stared at her speakers as the voice issued a challenge, one directly to Two-face. There was something about that voice, something that was familiar about it. She couldn't quite place it though.

Quickly she looked back down to the video feed she was obtaining from the Second Chance. Moments later, there was flurry of activity, men matching the descriptions of those involved in Two-face's criminal empire flooding out of the club.

And there he was, Two-face.

The man approached the bi-colored sedan that was nearly a trademark of his. He was leaving.

"This is Oracle," she immediately tapped into the channel she knew Batman was using. "I have confirmation on Two-face's whereabouts."

4:41 PM

How does one get a message to a person whom they have no idea of their current whereabouts?

Black Mask's solution to that problem had been to broadcast that message all over the city. Even though it exposed him a way he had not planned on and put at risk any operatives he may or may not have in the field, his fury at his rival was too great to stop him.

Since he currently did not have the equipment to do such a broadcast, nor did he have the patience to steal any from news outlet, he made due with what he had. Necessity was the progenitor of innovation, and innovative he needed to be.

The signal jammer he was using to mask his presence was the key. All he needed to do was do some rewiring and patching so that the device could not only block signals but send them out. The power the jammer held itself should be more than enough to overpower every other broadcast in the city, so he didn't have to worry about what medium to use, like radio or television. Due to time constraints, he would have to shut down the jamming functions momentarily. A risk, but one he was willing to take.

"This is Black Mask speaking. I have a message for Harvey Two-face Dent. If you think you were so clever to steal my credit and get away with it, you are sorely mistaken. You should know better than to steal someone else's thunder. So I'm returning the favor. You may have taken my glory, but I have taken your pretty little wife. If you want to see her again, come and find me if you can. You have until dusk before I spill the blood of the innocent. Good luck."

A short and sweet message. That's all it needed to be. Black Mask was not in the mood to talk himself hoarse anyway. And now, all he needed to do was wait. There was no doubt in his mind that Two-face would come and that he would find him. All that ugly son of a bitch had to do was press Zucco for some answers.

And those were answers the mobster had been given permission to tell beforehand.

Looking over at his captive, the shivering woman who was trying to shrink herself as much as possible, completely unnerved by Jones' unwavering gaze, he said casually, "This isn't anything personal, Mrs. Dent. Your husband, however, cross a line he had no business crossing. And now you have to pay the price for it. You better pray that Harvey shows up to save you, otherwise I might have to give you to Mr. Jones over there."

A toothy grin parted Jones' face, further traumatizing Gilda.

Amused at the sight, Black Mask directed his attention back to the matter at hand. The clock was running, and if Two-face was smarter than he looked, it wouldn't take him more than an hour to reach here.

And Black Mask would be waiting for him with a lead-based welcoming.