City in Pieces II
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Conquer All
Because the entire police force was beneath Gotham, buried under rubble, though they were very much alive, the need to stay hidden was moot at this point. So, under Bane's free will, Ace led Chance out of the shadows and led her into the restaurant that she had been forfeiting for years. It had been renamed under several titles, once owned by a member of the League of Shadows; once house-sat by Daggett; once bought over foreclosure by Maroni; and another time ransacked as a hole for criminals. Ace brought Chance to the same restaurant that she had taken from a deceased man named Ron Burgundy. Now it belonged to Chance once more.
Ace handed Chance the plague to the diner. Several names were etched onto it from the changes over the years. Ace, with a slink of the waist, slipped over the counter of the battered down kitchen and retrieved a bottle of wine from the bottom cupboard. Chance observed the ruined plaque that had once read the words of Burgundy's finest, and since the markings on it practically mauled it, the read-out was difficult.
"Not much is left of this place after Joker was arrested and I was put in prison," said Ace, speaking of the incident with little compassion. She drank heavily from the bottle. Chance gazed at her friend with slight wonder, looking up from the melted piece of metal in her hands. "After you left, after Joker was put in Arkham, and when I was put away," she continued, "those who followed the three of us went a little mad and started peeling away at this place."
"Why attack one of the places that I own?" asked Chance gently.
The restaurant was almost rubble from the its many occupants. The décor was mix-match from her elegant architecture to Maroni's place of business. Ashes from cigarette buds and shattered bar bottles littered the floors; chairs of each culture were broken and beaten, and even the counter suffered its torment.
"They believed that since Batman was gone, we were too," said Ace, glancing into the bottle of whatever she was drinking. "I was tired of trying to protect your little home here, despite how many memories are encased in this. I suppose it's got some sentimental value," sighed Ace. "You may have been here in Gotham for eight years, Chance. But only you knew that, and Bane."
Chance observed her face. Ace's features paled in the shadow of a swinging light bulb. Her eyes were lowered into the bottle of alcohol. It was like she was hoping to simply fall through the neck, maybe drown in there.
Chance approached her.
"I know what bothers you," said Chance lightly, leaning over the top of the counter.
"It's that obvious, isn't it?" said Ace glumly.
Chance nodded.
"Well, it's no use wishing, is it? After all, you guys are after people like us."
Chance gave Ace a confused look.
"What?"
"You only freed me because you needed my help, Chance." Ace said.
"What?" repeated Chance.
Ace smiled at her.
"Why do you so confused?"
"Because I am," said Chance lightly. "Ace, the League of Shadows avenges those who cannot do it themselves. Those who join are those who want to make it so when they are the strongest. We seek justice, and Gotham is rotting with lawlessness. I freed you because you were imprisoned under a policy that is wrapped around a lie, which is lawlessness."
Ace looked at Chance hopefully. Chance continued,
"You deserve death penalties, Ace," she admitted. "Your crimes warrant more than that, but you were not given a fair trial. You weren't judged before your peers. You had no chance of winning. The judge put you away with no consideration on your part." Chance reached into the pocket of Marine trousers to withdraw a written speech. Gordon's speech. "And, you're not the only one."
Ace glanced at the papers, though she didn't look interested.
"Some contracts or something?" questioned Ace, pouring the bottle of alcohol into a glass.
"No," Chance declined. "The Commissioner's confession."
"About what happened with Harvey Dent and Gordon's boy?" said Ace lightly.
"Yes," said Chance.
"He's confessed?" said Ace with a raised eyebrow, doubtful.
"No. But the world will know."
Ace smiled.
"You are starting to sound like your masked fellow," said Ace, indicating her with the cup in her hand. She pointed at her with a raised finger. "You already have his accent"—Ace laid the pronunciation hard on the T—"It's cute."
Chance shook her head, ignoring her.
"What I'm saying is that the Dent Act put away all these criminals in Black Gate. The Dent Act is a lie." Chance said clearly, staring at Ace, hoping that she'd get the point.
Ace took the hint. She smirked,
"So the entire law is nullified."
Chance smiled that knowing smile.
"Yes."
"So, Bane's going to do what I think he's going to do?" said Ace, taking in another glass.
Chance nodded.
"When the criminals were also imprisoned, so was Joker."
Ace perked up, turning to Chance with an impish grin on her face. Ace tipped the glass to her lips and passed the booze down her throat.
"Well, I think I'll like this martial law thing after all," Ace drawled.
Chance merely shrugged.
At the break of dawn, Chance, Ace, and Bane filed into the roaring tumblers onto the city streets. Pedestrians on the sidewalks followed the tumblers with tepid curiosity. Paparazzi poured from every van to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Three of the desert camouflage tanks halted. The top of the tank steamed slightly as the gunner pulled off the top mechanically. From under the steel pit, Bane, Chance, and Ace rose from the middle and stood on top of tumbler in distinct authority. Ace grinned widely at the range of camera women and men circling the area. Chance observed her friend with scrutiny. Ace enjoyed the power. Sadistic in nature, sarcastic in conversation, and deadly in battle, Ace would become her own queen in a kingdom with little effort.
A mix of Gotham's most feared villains, the people of the city stared blankly at the three of them standing on the tumbler. Pictures were taken of them. The cameras filmed them from every angle. Chance stood beside Bane with a liking. She glanced at Ace, who slowly turned from the crowd to stare at Black Gate Prison with resentment.
Chance already could tell that Ace wanted to storm the building already, to kill every officer, to free the man that held her heart in one hand, and the key in the other, and both were shackled behind bars. What might have been more poetic was that it hurt Ace to be away from Joker for so long. Chance turned to her captain, Barsad, and she snapped her fingers at him. Ace momentarily turned her attention to look at Barsad. The two of them acknowledged the others presence with admiration. Barsad tossed Chance a wireless microphone. Ace's attention was resumed on the dark building before her, glaring at it in stewing anger. Were it human, it would have vomited its prisoners.
A cold breeze tattered through the air. A stirring nausea crept its way into Chance's belly. She gulped hard, hoping to keep that down. Ace glanced at her friend, noticing the slight sway in Chance's stand.
"What's going on?" she whispered.
"I'll be fine," muttered Chance quietly.
Ace's eyes flickered from Chance's stomach to her face.
"How far along are you?" she muttered.
"Three weeks…Oh…" Chance gave Ace an irritated look.
Ace confirmed the assumption.
Nausea…Great…
Chance handed Bane the microphone. He glanced at her swiftly, but took it up to his mouthpiece.
"Behind you stands a symbol of oppression," Bane declared. "Black Gate Prison. Where a thousand men have languished for years. Under the Dent Act. Under the name of this man."
Bane held up a color photograph of the flawless District Attorney. Ace glanced at momentarily, but returned her eyes to the penitentiary. Chance's stomach did a nervous loop at the picture, but nevertheless.
"Harvey Dent." Bane said. "Held up to you—and over you—as a shining example of justice and good. Bu you have been supplied with a false idol."
Chance watched Bane rip the photo in half.
I see what you did there, Chance thought, lightly amused.
The crowd fell silent as his words. They were shocked. Camera men holding their eyes to the piece lowered their recorders, staring at the real thing in little dismay. Ace saw several eyes peek out from the barred windows of the prison. She searched each one for a brown pair staring from behind a face of make-up. Searching…
Chance looked at her. Ace was a murderer, and even Ace was trying to locate someone she lost. Chance smiled sweetly. In some cases, love did conquer all.
Chance looked over her shoulder to see the eyes of hardened criminals watching with interest. She heard raucous cheering in the background, which could only mean that they were hearing this too.
"A straw man to placate you," continued Bane, "to stop you from tearing down this corrupt city and rebuilding it the way it should have been rebuilt, generations ago. Let me tell you the truth about Harvey Dent. In the words of Gotham's police commissioner, James Gordon."
Chance pulled the papers of Gordon's speech from the long pocket of her Marine jacket and handed the papers to Bane. He nodded to her and straightened them out. He read aloud,
"'The truth about Harvey Dent is simple in only one regard—it has been hidden for too long. After his devastating injuries, Harvey's mind recovered no better than his mutilated face. He was a broken, dangerous man, not the crusader for justice that I, James Gordon, have portrayed him to be for the last eight years. Harvey's rage was indiscriminate. Psychopathic.'"
Chance stared into the crowd of shocked spectators. While these people were finding out for the first time, and Bane had found this out only about six months ago, Chance had known this for eight long years since she had seen Harvey fall to his death. She had reformed him physically, and he had become good, then he had fallen back to what he was before he met Rachel. Chance could only believe that in darkest circumstances, Joker was right: "In the last moments of their lives, people show you who they really are."
Chance glanced at Ace, whose attention turned from Black Gate, to look at Bane. She was hearing the speech for the first time as well. Ace met Chance's eyes. James Gordon wasn't the type of person to play with a dirty secret. Ace's look of resignation showed that she simply accepted that with grace.
Chance turned to Bane, who continued, after shaking his head slightly from the repulsive letter.
"'He held my family at gunpoint, then fell to his death in the struggle over my son's life. The Batman did not murder Harvey Dent—he saved my boy. Then the Batman took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes, so that I could, to my shame, build a lie around this fallen idol. I praised the madman who tried to murder my own child.
"The things we did in Harvey's name brought desperately needed security to our streets. But I can no longer live with my lie. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth, and it is time for me to resign.'"
Bane folded the papers and handed them to Chance, who took them weakly. He gazed out over the speechless crowd, which included reporters and neighborhood toughs.
Bane called out to the mob.
"Do you accept this man's resignation?"
At first, no one responded, but then angry faces in the back started shouting,
"Yes!"
Chance and Ace's eyes darted up the spoken voices. From behind them, the prisoners of Black Gate screamed from the barred windows,
"YES!"
More voices joined the choir, angrily screaming confirmation. Ace's eyes fell upon the barred windows, seeing all the criminals bang their fists against their cells, screaming their agreement. Ace smirked at her fellow inmates, whooping loudly. Bane glanced behind him to see the criminals there. He momentarily met the stunned eyes of Chance, who was shocked at the citizens of Gotham.
"Do you accept," said Bane loudly, turning his eyes from Chance's view to the crowd, "the resignation of all the liars? All the corrupt!?"
"YES!" came the answer, both inside and outside the prison. They gave Bane their answer, "YES!"
Bane glanced at her and nodded his head. Chance turned to the tumblers and signaled. One other armored tumbler swiveled a formidable turret gun to the entrance of the prison gates. Bane turned to the crowd,
"We take Gotham from the corrupt," Bane roared, shouting over the excited mob, "The rich! The oppressors of generations who have kept you down with the myth of opportunity. And we give the city to you, the people. Gotham is yours—none shall interfere.
"Do as you please!"
Ace jumped when hellfire blasted from the cannon, blowing the heavy iron gates to pieces. Twisted metal fragments clattered down onto the sidewalk, leaving an open smoldering cavity in the walls of the prison.
"But start by storming Black Gate and freeing the oppressed," he continued. "Step forward, those who would serve…"
Barsad cocked his machine gun and led his men through the smoking hole of Black Gate; screamed roared as the mob chased after them into Black Gates bombarded entrance, eagerly joining the revolt. Ace turned to Chance, who held out an unsheathed dagger from her waist. She glanced at Bane, then to Chance.
"You heard him, Ace," said Chance with smirk. "Do as you please."
Ace grabbed the knife of Chance's open hand and flew off the tumbler like a readied assassin. Mob members dived out of her way. Bane watched the citizens of Gotham raid the prison, each person angrier than the next. He turned to her.
"Chance."
She glanced at him.
"When, exactly, were you going to tell me that you knew about Harvey's death?"
She shrugged, and admitted, "You would have figured it out eventually."
Bane nodded. She smiled slightly. He handed her a knife from his belt.
"Go in there with Ace. Leave none of them task force alive. Find Crane."
