This was originally supposed to be posted on Friday. Sorry I didn't get to it.
Reviews are always welcome and never cease to keep me excited to see what you guys think as well as providing additional incentive to keep going. It doesn't take long, so please do take a moment to let me in on your thoughts. Insight is always welcome and encouraged.
A/N: I don't own Batman or any other character affiliated with DC Comics.
It was official, Milton Gennaro hated mornings. Whoever decided that the construction industry needed to get its start with the sun barely over the horizon deserved his place in some special kind of hell. It's not that he wasn't a morning person, he was. But there was morning and then there was this.
He jumped down and slammed the door closed to his old pickup, rubbing his hands together in the brisk morning air before stuffing them back in his sweatshirt. Finally the weather was starting to change, heading for Spring and a promise of warmth and sunny days. At least there was that. Of course that still didn't change the fact that the mornings were still damn cold and almost always choked by a thick layer of wet fog that seemed to blanket everything this far from the coast and big city.
Williams Bros. Construction Supply was one of the older family run businesses still in existence in these parts. Having done well for itself they now had three branches in suburbs ringing Gotham about forty miles to the east supplying some of the largest projects undertaken in the area. Unlike most industries, theirs actually improved in the aftermath of the Scarecrow and Joker.
The sign high above the door was still off though. Milt frowned. He was never the first one here and turning the sign on was almost always the very first thing Josh did. He glanced back at the parking lot. Sure enough Josh's truck was just a couple spaces over from his own. Weird. Gennaro shrugged and headed for the front doors. Something must have come up.
When the doors didn't open automatically he frowned again. What the hell? He tried to push them apart only to find them still locked. Peering inside he could plainly see the lights were on, but there was no movement. That second part wasn't odd. The contractors and retailers wouldn't be here for another hour or so at a less ungodly hour.
Milton kicked the door and spat a curse under his breath. He didn't even have keys to the front door. That was Josh's job. He'd have to head around back to the loading dock to get in if the drunkard didn't show soon. If that idiot was hungover again...
After another couple minutes of banging on the glass with no sign of his co-worker he finally made his way around the giant building, hopping the small planter wall and unlocking the chain link gate that separated the parking lot from the construction yard at the rear of the facility. He'd have to do this anyway, may as well get the delivery gates open now rather than waiting to find Josh asleep behind a pallet somewhere first.
After a few more brainless opening chores he finally made it inside the showroom through the back service entrance and then through the employee door that separated storage from the aisles and aisles of materials and tools stretching away towards the front door.
"Josh?" he asked. Without other movement or sounds in the cavernous space his voice almost seemed to echo. Milt had expected to find him back in storage somewhere, working off a long night of partying. He'd also been ready to throw something heavy at the man. Being the owner's nephew might get you a lot of leeway from the higher ups, but that didn't mean he had to suffer a fool. But he hadn't been in storage.
Somewhere over towards the power tools he heard a wet sucking sound followed by a muffled giggle.
Son of a...
The drunken idiot had brought a girl with him this time. Gennaro smiled. Maybe this time he would actually get fired. His day might be looking up after all. Even family relations couldn't get him out of being drunk on duty and screwing someone on the showroom floor.
His footsteps clicked against the linoleum as he rounded the fasteners aisle, skirting down one of the wide, main thoroughfares that ran from the front to the back of the store before approaching the section devoted to tools. He slowed down then, listening, and again heard the same wet sound.
"Josh?" He cocked his head, listening. The sound repeated itself. "Dammit, Josh, how many times have I told you to lay off it during the week?" Angrily he pushed forward, rounding the corner. "I can only keep overlooking this for so..."
It was Josh Williams lying on the floor alright. And like he'd suspected the man had the audacity to bring a girl with him
The blood pooling on the floor and staining the shelves and small figure hunched over him were the first indicator that something was amiss. Very, very fucking amiss.
"...long," Milt finally managed, drawing to a frozen stop.
The girl glanced up over her shoulder at him in reaction to his words, moving just enough that she no longer blocked him from seeing what she was doing. Gennaro barely managed to keep his morning's breakfast and coffee down. Before he'd even processed the face paint, the pigtails, or the cheerful smile he watched in terror as she again and again plunged a four inch paring knife into the motionless body of his colleague. Again and again her right arm came down while she still stared at him, continuing to smile as blood splattered against her clothes and arms.
Right about the time fleeing came to mind as a good option a heavy arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, tapping something lightly against his left shoulder. Looking down he saw a gloved hand with a small knife similar to the woman's tapping lightly against his shirt. Glancing to his left brought him face to face with an infamously painted, scarred face staring back at him.
"Hi," the Joker started, stretching out the word, almost making it slither across his teeth.
Milton's head snapped forward again, looking at the dead body and the psychotic kneeling over him. Holy shit. He knew the man had escaped, but that was a city problem. This was the damn suburbs. Hell, in another twenty miles you'd start hitting farms. A cold bead of sweat trickled down his back between his shoulder blades.
"Oh, right. Your colleague...he, uh..." the maniac waved his small blade at the scene dismissively, "...well, he tested my little Harlequin's patience a bit." The Joker licked his lips, his eyes flaring slightly with a crazed intensity. "You really don't want to do that."
Gennaro shook his head numbly, continuing to stare in abject horror at the scene. Was this how he died? On the floor of a construction emporium at the hand of one of the country's most infamous murderers and his...henchwoman? Pet? His throat was suddenly very, very dry.
"So. We're here to do a little...shopping," the Joker said. His arm left the man's shoulder and he stepped forward, glancing at the blond and gesturing at them. "I'm assuming you're willing to help us out a little? She really can be a bit...ah...thorough."
Gennaro nodded dumbly and avoided looking at either of them. .
In his periphery the scarred mouth parted into a smile, revealing paint stained teeth. "Ah, good man." He glanced at the shelves lining the walls on either side of them. "Now I understand that this is a...uh...construction materials outlet." Milt nodded. "And of course construction also requires a bit of demolition."
And there it was. They wanted explosives. Most jobs didn't require it, but when things like bringing down a tall, old building or quarrying gravel was involved they still used a lot of stuff that went boom. They were tightly controlled substances of course, but Williams Bros. had one of the oldest licenses in the state. All the explosives...the dynamite, black powder, cordite, plastique, and even the detonators and wire were under lock in a large metal cage near the managers office. Hundreds and hundreds of pounds of it.
Milton's eyes flicked back over to the still crouching woman. As soon as his eyes met hers the knife went back into Josh. He slammed his eyes shut.
Who was he kidding? He was no hero and dammit he wanted to live. Or at least hope to live. The message was clear. Refuse them or hinder them and he ended up like the body on the floor. Gennaro took a deep breath. "How...how much?" he managed.
That disquieting smile appeared again.
"Oh, all of it of course."
Well, it sure as hell hadn't taken them long.
The damned paparazzi. Those goddamned camera vultures.
It was literally the same morning that her and Bruce had actually managed to cut through the bullshit and finally act on their feelings and already there were rumors bandied about regarding a new woman in the billionaire's life. Of course, given all things Bruce Wayne tongues had been sent wagging simply by the two of them leaving the memorial together. Apparently even the wealthy weren't above such gossip. In fact, given the quickness with which the news had broken and spread, they may have even been worse than the average Gothamite.
Given her luck of late Selina really shouldn't have been all that surprised.
And with that news the flash bulb swarms had descended.
The first picture of them, a fuzzy, barely identifiable camera phone image of she and Bruce walking down the street towards his penthouse came later in the morning close to lunchtime. More, equally grainy snapshots soon followed, finding their way on to blogs, social gossip sites, and eventually the news channels and print media themselves. Unbeknownst to either of them, any opportunistic person with a fucking phone seemed to have been grabbing the opportunity to snap away.
Obviously, it went without saying that both within Gotham and beyond, Bruce Wayne was big business. Being fabulously rich and ridiculously good looking coupled with some of his past antics had a way of doing that. Now Selina was paying the price for being in his shadow.
By that evening the talking heads on the news channels still hadn't managed to identify her, listing her simply as Bruce Wayne's latest "mystery woman", but to anyone who actually knew her, the tall, black haired woman would be obvious enough.
And now she was good and royally screwed.
Selina leaned back against the wall and banged her head against it. Twice. Dammit. This was exactly the reason she'd been avoiding Bruce for months. Exactly the reason anything kindled between the two of them had always been doomed to failure. She couldn't bring herself to dismiss or regret the night they'd spent together. Not really. But, did she have to go out of her way to make things more difficult and complicated for herself?
Apparently the answer to that question was a resounding "yes". The man was like her damn kryptonite or something. She just had some kind of dumb, built-in weakness that seemed to make rational decisions a foreign entity.
She banged her head against the wall of the elevator again.
The small group of reporters that had ambushed Bruce outside Wayne Enterprises later in the afternoon was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. She'd watched on live television as he'd expertly skirted every question that referenced her, but knew deep down that it was only a matter of time before the gig was up. She'd be identified...and soon. That didn't leave time to come up with any more long gestating plans. Despite all the work she'd done. All the preparations. One intimate night with Bruce Wayne and it was literally now or never.
With their characteristic chime the elevator doors slid open, revealing the same anteroom as the night before and the normal three man team of immaculately dressed security personnel lounging just inside. Apparently the men from the previous evening didn't have the night shift the following day because this time there were three new faces. Men she'd never seen before despite her careful research into Alberto's bodyguards. That was...unexpected. And not altogether reassuring.
Judging by the way they rose when she exited the metal box and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart they were also expecting her. That conclusion was confirmed when they didn't move to let Selina pass to the double doors into the penthouse itself.
Time to play her part then and hope her acting had just as much effect as the previous evening. Selina mirrored their stance, crossing her own arms over her chest and scowling at them. "Uhhh...out of my way?" she tried, lacing the words with more than a little annoyed venom. Neither of the three budged although the solemn gaze sent out from two of them was wavering, flickering back and forth between her and a blank spot on the far wall.
She chose one of those two to continue applying pressure to, angling towards the man on the left of the group.
"Okay, you're new here, right?" He didn't answer, just continued looking at her. Selina blew out an annoyed breath. "What's your name then?"
Still no response. Was the Batman teaching a class or something? Thankfully he also had a name tag.
"Look," she said, leaning forward to get a good look and to provide them all with an eyeful. Thank god for the power of women's...assets over the less fair sex. "Phil, since you obviously don't know who I am and..."
He held up a hand, cutting her off. "No, I know who you are. I'm sorry Miss Kyle, but I'm under strict orders. You're no longer permitted inside."
Shit. So, Alberto apparently did manage to catch the tabloids or rumors at some point today. Double shit. On to another tactic then.
She stared at the security detail for a second, her eyebrow arched while her mind raced. It also served double duty and let him squirm a little. "So, you're saying Alberto told you not to let me in?"
The young man nodded, saying, "Yes, ma'am."
"Jesus," she huffed, trying to look as put out as possible. "Okay, listen...is he in? Can I at least talk to him?" Underneath all the pomp and bravado though her stomach had dropped even further. If she didn't have access to Alberto's apartment anymore...
Again and said with more feeling this time. Shit.
"Maybe he's here," the man said, but he didn't reach for his radio. Sure, the guard still appeared a little fidgety and nervous. He'd likely heard of the things she'd pulled on the other security forces in her short tenure here, but he shook his head with conviction. "But he left specific instructions about that too. I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm afraid he doesn't want to see you. Or talk to you."
"Give me the radio," she said, holding out one hand. Her other hand she placed on her hip, channeling every ounce of womanly threat into her stance that she could.
He blinked, but he didn't move.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't..."
"Can't what?" Selina growled. She took a small step forward, crowding the man despite having to look up at him. "Just let me talk to him and explain what a monumental screw-up the tabloids have made?" She flexed her fingers to signal him to hand over the small handset. "Come on. Hand it over."
He shook his head again. This time his eyes darted to the camera in the corner of the room.
Ah, so Falcone was probably watching this whole exchange. Well, maybe she could play to that then too.
"Listen," she said, running her hand through her hair in frustration, "I don't have time for this. Okay? I want to give Alberto an explanation. Even if he doesn't choose to accept it I deserve the chance to explain what actually happened. Besides, I still have belongings inside. I wanna at least go in and get them." Selina crossed her arms before again extending one hand. "Give me. The radio."
The door behind the three opened, revealing a tall, impressively built blond man in a pressed grey suit. The small smile and dancing eyes betrayed none of the lethality and brutal nature that Selina knew the man possessed. Why Falcone kept him around she could never figure out, much less why make him the head of his personal security. The man was a sadist. To say nothing of also being more than a tad bit crazy.
"As manipulative as ever I see," he said, grinning wider and gesturing to the other three men. "Good evening, Miss Kyle. Now, I believe you were asked nicely to leave."
"Christian," she said, crossing her arms defensively, "your hospitality seems to be a bit...lacking of late. What's with the cold shoulder."
He shrugged. "I always told the boss you were trouble. Seems like he finally got the message." The grin that grew on his face gave her all she'd need to know about how deadly serious he was. Of course he was also probably drawing more than a little satisfaction from this. "Go away Miss Kyle. You're not getting in and you're not seeing him."
She'd never liked the head of Alberto's security detail and the feeling was overwhelmingly mutual. From day one of her affiliation with Falcone, right up to the point she arranged a not-so-accidental meeting with him, his head of security hadn't trusted her. She was sure part of it stemmed from the fact that she was a non-stop irritant to him, screwing with him and his men at every opportunity, going where she wasn't supposed to, never agreeing with him or following his direction. He'd probably never had to deal with so many "accidental" security breaches in all his life. Granted, it hadn't been personal, but he'd sure taken it that way. Of course, she'd been doing all that to set her cover ever more firmly in place. If she was known for being a rebel and not listening to authority then it wouldn't be surprising if she was caught somewhere potentially compromising.
It further galled him that Alberto routinely sided with her whenever he took his complaints to his employer. Alberto had always had a bit of a soft spot for her that Selina had routinely played upon, much to Christian's frustration. Because of that she'd always known he'd been itching to get a little revenge on her for all the perceived slights.
And with that the bottom of her stomach completely dropped away, her chances of finding Holly's killer began circling the drain alongside it. One final play before she'd have to resort to desperate measures. Not that what she was doing now wasn't all that desperate. Time to attempt to appeal to the man himself. Hopefully he actually was watching the cameras. Maybe he still had enough leftover affection for her to once more overrule the hulking blondie.
"Come on, Alberto," she started, looking up at the nearest camera and plastering on her best innocent face. "Let me in. Let's talk about this." Selina grit her teeth, preparing to lie with every ounce of her being. "Nothing happened. I swear. Wayne remembered me and wanted to talk to me about you. He's got something big going down with Gilchrist Trading. Something he wants to bring you in on. It's an opportunity. For you. Just tell this gorilla to let me in and we can talk about it."
Christian chuckled darkly from her right. "You've got a pair, I'll give you that. Unfortunately he ain't buyin' what you're sellin' sweetheart. Not this time." The smile widened. "You're done."
Anger replaced frustration and fear, flashing through her veins and making her ball her fists tightly. That she'd been this close only to be denied like this? That she was being summarily dismissed like a child by a man as condescending as this? That all her effort and careful planning was coming to nothing?
"So, this is how you break up with a girl?" she said, raising her voice and glaring at the camera over Christian's shoulder. It was probably juvenile and pointless, but the frustration and anger boiled over and Selina just let it out. She wanted to let it out in a more...physical way, but thankfully she had a little more self control remaining than that. "Huh? Classy. One hundred percent pure class, Alberto. Why am I not the least bit surprised? How's about you come down here and do it to my face instead of sending your goon like a child." With the last part she glared evenly at Christian. He didn't blink.
"Miss Kyle." She snapped a penetrating glance back at the small group of men.
There was no way she could take them on by force. Not without the element of surprise and without her suit and toys. As she was she could maybe handle two of them, but three and the giant blonde? Not a chance. Besides, she'd be on camera doing it. That probably wouldn't be great for her anonymity.
Her eyes narrowed threateningly as Christian started forward, striding towards her until he was looming above, but his arms remained at his sides. He smiled at her again, obviously still enjoying the change of fortunes. "We've been patient and we've asked nicely. Now, you can leave or you can be escorted from the building. Your choice. Keep in mind I can't guarantee my men's...gentleness."
"You wouldn't dare," she hissed. Her eyes narrowed further, but she steadfastly stood her ground.
That cocky, wicked smile on his face grew. "Oh, try me."
Christ if only she had her claws. Taking a beating would almost be worth it to see the look on this asshole's face when she clawed his damn eyes out. Of course that still wouldn't get her anywhere in the end. Selina closed her eyes. And the end was what mattered. The information, not her own feelings and petty need to wipe the sick smile from the man's face had to take precedence. For now.
Selina hated feeling helpless. She planned contingencies just to avoid it. Hell, until last night she'd had three alternate plans in place just to keep Falcone and his thugs firmly under her sway.
All three were now shot to hell along with anything else she'd even remotely considered.
She stared at the smug expression for another couple seconds before wordlessly spinning on her heel and walking the few yards back to the elevator.
Behind her, Christian laughed.
She just shot the man a glare over her shoulder as the doors parted to admit her, striding in and turning defiantly around to face them. They wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing her creep away in shame at least.
When the doors closed though she blew out an exasperated breath.
There was no plan from here. No clever way to turn things around to her advantage. She'd screwed up, plain and simple. There was no way to get around that fact. Every security man Falcone employed would be given the same instructions now if they hadn't already. She'd be headed off the minute she walked out those elevator doors no matter who was on duty. No more coercion. No more intimidation. No more batting her lashes and showing a bit of cleavage. They'd boot her ass out so fast it'd make her head spin.
Of course, they were probably changing all the codes now too.
Shit.
That left her nothing but a hail mary. One long shot, go-for-broke mission to fulfill her promise. It meant she'd actually have to infiltrate the penthouse by force, take out the guards, disable the cameras and electronic security, and breach that second vault.
It was unlike anything she'd ever tried in the past, always choosing stealth, secrecy, and surprise over force. Slipping through the shadows and crevices and disappearing before anyone even knew she was there. She was a thief dammit, not a fighter. She knew how to defend herself, sure, but taking on all comers? That just wasn't her. That was...the Batman.
Shit. She was going to need supplies. Lots and lots of supplies.
Selina banged the back of her head again on the wall of the elevator as it headed down to street level.
"So, not poison this time?"
The bald headed medical examiner looked up, squinting from behind his wire rimmed glasses at the small crowd gathered on the other side of the body and smiled. "Evening Commissioner," he said, nodding to both Bullock and Montoya. "Detectives." He glanced back down at the body he was crouching over and finally shook his head. "And as for poison? No, I don't think so, no."
Montoya felt a cold shudder run up her spine and down her arms. She would have expected a chemical plant to be a little warmer than this. The machinery was still on, humming in the background and belching unidentifiable fumes and steam punctuated occasionally by a rather shrill alarm.
As far as murder scenes went it was one of the more unnerving ones she'd come across.
It was certainly newsworthy when the head of one of Gotham's largest industrial manufacturers was murdered on the floor of his own factory. Axis Chemicals' main processing plant was on the mainland shore across the channel from the China Docks, but still fell under GCPD jurisdiction. At the moment she was wishing it didn't.
Its chief operating officer, Carl Greenwood, lay face down before her, his head turned to the side in a pool of frothy, pinkish liquid. The man's face, horribly contorted in a pained grimace, was frozen, staring off into space towards the giant, open loading bay doors along the west side of the facility. His extremities were equally contorted, the fingers on his hands flexed into claws as whatever had been done to him worked its way through him, forcing the man to claw at himself in agony.
For once though, the victim's lips weren't discolored.
Even without knowing his true fate it still looked horrific though. And painful.
The examiner stood up, brushing his hands together before snapping off the latex gloves in one practiced motion. He turned to look at the Commissioner and two detectives. "Massive internal bleeding from the looks of it." He pointed to the mouth and the still frothy residue at the corner of his lips. "I'd say something he ingested. Forcefully too judging from the ligature marks around the wrists. You'll have my full report in a few days, but my guess would be some kind of caustic chemical." The man glanced at the giant steel tanks looming over them on either side of the wide aisle in which they were standing. Pipes and valves ran up towards the ceiling before branching off and splitting for god knows where, producing an intensely tangled web that crisscrossed the ceiling and walls. "No shortage here of those. Axis produces quite a few," he said. "Stuff's used in industrial processes and for creating chemical reactions. Making rocket fuel, corrosive cleaners, that kind of thing." He looked back down at the body and the man's silent scream. "Horrible way to go. Had to be absolutely excruciating."
Montoya kept staring at the dead man, quietly imagining what his last minutes must have been like. Getting painfully burned, your insides dissolved while you're still alive. "Son of a bitch..." she whispered before silently saying a little prayer.
"Thanks, doc," she heard Gordon say beside her as the medical examiner moved on to something else.
Bullock, however, was watching the Commissioner a bit more pointedly. "Poison? So what, you're liking Ivy for this?"
"Well...yeah," Montoya managed aloud without thinking, nodding to herself. She felt far less sure of herself when the other two men turned to consider her. She swallowed, but nodded again. "I mean, Axis Chemicals has been fined and taken to court more times than I can remember. They're always in the news. Everything from illegal waste procedures to environmental contamination. I'll get a complete list put together when we get back. Still, somehow Greenwood's been able to retain control of the company through it all. Off the top of my head I couldn't think of a more appropriate target for her."
Bullock scowled, but Gordon seemed somewhat more convinced. Obviously his mind had already been traveling in a similar direction. The gruff Lieutenant pushed back the brim of his hat and seemed to somehow scowl even more at the dead man. "And we're still scrounging in the mud," her partner grumbled from beside her. "Seriously, we still don't have so much as a name or possible suspect for this shit. Anyone else getting more than a little annoyed by that?"
There had been fingerprints found at the Gilchrist mansion besides those belonging to the man himself and his staff members. Strands of hair too. Not artificial this time, but real hair possessing the all important DNA. Of course nothing had come back when they'd run it all through the federal databases though. The woman was still a ghost.
"Pamela Isley."
Almost everyone in the small group jumped at the sudden unexpected interruption. Bullock squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth in annoyance, his jaw tightening. They all recognized the voice of course. The file folder that smacked down on the concrete floor between them was equally startling.
"Fucker does that just to give me a condition, I swear ta god," he muttered. To his left Montoya hid a small smile behind her hand as Harvey glared at her.
As one though they all glanced up.
The Batman was above them, perched on a massive coolant pipe the ran parallel to the floor for a time before angling upward toward the ceiling. A steel lattice climbed behind him, supporting even more piping and conduits as they ran to their intended destination, casting deep shadows down upon him, bathing him in darkness.
Gordon bent down and scooped up the dossier, thumbing through the first few pages before looking back up, frowning in thought. "Isley?" he asked.
"Activist. Background in plant pharmacology and botany with ties to various environmental groups, some of them extremist. She has a long history as well as the necessary expertise."
"And I'm gonna guess you have more than simple background information on the woman or you wouldn't be bringing this to us?"
The masked man nodded slightly. "She bought a red wig that matches fibers from the other crime scenes. It was at Gilchrist's. And she attacked me while I was investigating."
"When you were...?" Harvey was frowning, his brow creased as he worked it out.
Montoya's eyes widened. "Wait, you...you were there. I mean before the cops were called, you were there. At Gilchrist's. You confronted her?"
The vigilante just stared back at her.
Bullock groaned and threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jesus Chri...you ever heard of back-up? You make one call and and voila." He gestured to the team of officers still working to process the crime scene. The message was plainly clear. With surprise on their side the GCPD could have had the property surrounded and prevented her escape with her having never known they'd even arrived.
The Commissioner frowned and held up a tired hand. "Lieutenant..." he sighed.
"No, no, don't Harvey me," the detective grunted, still glaring at the black clad figure crouching in the shadows. "Seriously, this clown lets us in on his little excursion and bam, we got a psycho chick behind bars and this poor chump here is still breathin'. Instead he plays free and loose and we get to pick up the pieces. That sound about right?"
This time neither the Commissioner or the vigilante answered.
Bullock grunted. "About what I thought. Christ, I always knew this was a bad idea."
Montoya ignored her superior's outburst, her mind already spinning at the implications of the Batman's confrontation alongside the unorthodox murder. "She's changing her methods then," she blurted out, causing Bullock to stop mid-sentence.
The Batman nodded. "I surprised her. She had to leave things behind in order to get away. She's having to adapt, ration her usual poison."
Montoya looked back down at the deceased Carl Greenwood. "Doesn't look like it's slowing her down though, does it? Question is, does that make her more or less dangerous?"
"Shit, does any of this even mark this as her's?" Bullock asked, sweeping his hand over the fallen body and the other people going about their business at the periphery. "Seems like we're assuming a whole hell of a lot simply because the man'd been fined for illegal waste...whatever...before. That doesn't automatically make this schmuck Ivy's next victim."
A small, hand written note landed at the burly man's feet, carefully placed in a sealed plastic bag. The three people stared at it for a second before Gordon finally bent down to pick it up. Upon reading it the scowl on his face was all the confirmation they needed.
"It was her," came the deep, gravelly voice from above them.
Wordlessly the Commissioner passed the note to Bullock.
"So much for the chain of evidence," he grumbled, but he read it too. "Just one more thing that ain't gonna be admissible." If the glare Harvey shot the Batman affected him at all, he didn't show it. Silently, the Lieutenant handed the note to Montoya, shaking his head with his jaw still clenched in indignant anger.
It was almost poetic. If not for the horribly contorted body laying a few yards away.
The earth we abuse and the living things we kill will, in the end, take their revenge; for in exploiting their presence we are diminishing our future. - Marya Mannes
I am become the Earth's vengeance. Let no one that has turned a blind eye to our world for profit be safe from its wrath for I am coming for them.
Like the first note, the one found in Elizabeth Park's apartment, this one too was signed in an elaborate, looping script. Unlike the first note though, this one wasn't a single name. This time it was signed, Poison Ivy.
Montoya read it again. "She thinks she's some kind of crusader or something."
"She's a friggin' nutjob is what she is," Bullock said, dismissing it with a wave. "I'm sure they'll find a nice, comfy, padded room for her in Arkham." He paused. "Well, once it's rebuilt." He shot yet another glare up into the shadows. "Now if only someone wasn't too busy playing cowboy we might actually get our hands on her."
It was hard to tell, but Renee would bet the fourth person in their little conversation was already gone.
Wordlessly the Commissioner headed for the nearest open delivery door. Several feet away he paused and turned slightly back to the two remaining cops.
"Lieutenant..." Gordon started, speaking to the man but not really looking at him. He hesitated and removed his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Harvey, listen, I know we talked about this before, but I need you two on the same team here. At least for now. As much as you might not like to admit it we need his help right now. Face it, he's good at what he does."
The look on the burly man softened a tiny fraction at the pleading note in the older man's voice, but he didn't respond, merely grunting something unintelligible. Montoya wasn't sure if that was an agreement or yet more hostility, but the Commissioner didn't stick around to pursue the matter, turning around and disappearing out into the brisk night.
The two stood there for a few moments in silence watching the open doors before the Lieutenant started in their direction as well. Montoya followed him.
Halfway out of the building Bullock chuckled darkly beside her. "I don't know," he said, sending her a wide, sarcastic grin when she looked over at him. "Despite what the Commish thinks, I think I'm kinda growing on him."
Renee rolled her eyes and continued following the older man to the door. "Like a cancer, Harv"
The knock on the open door distracted him from the latest cost/benefit analysis from Wayne Pharmaceuticals and Lucius glanced up to the figure in the doorway, surprised to see the company's namesake lounging idly in the entry.
"Busy?"
It was rare to see the young man in the offices at all these days. Much less this late in the day. Fox had already sent his assistant home for the day. Not that Bruce ever paid her presence a great deal of attention.
"Always," he said, but Bruce started across the carpeted expanse anyway. "But for you Mister Wayne, I'm sure I've got a second or two." The older man tapped a couple more keys on the computer in front of him before clicking the mouse and swiveling to face his employer. "Now," he said, smiling, "what can I do for you? Another...special request?"
"In a manner of speaking." Fox removed his glasses and waved his hand at one of the leather seats in front of his desk. Bruce just leaned on the back of it rather than sitting. "I was going through our holdings," the billionaire said. "Concentrating on our industrial investments and...listen, do we have anything, any plants or factories that've been cited for any environmental infractions? Illegal pollution levels? Anything we've had to deal with like that?"
Lucius frowned. Apparently new tech could wait this time. This promised to be something else altogether. "Well, that's certainly...not quite what I expected. Mind if I ask why all the interest? Not everyday you come in here and ask an actual business related question." He turned back to his computer though, signing on to the secure corporate servers.
"Just...curious about the company's environmental practices I guess. You know...preserving things for the future generations." He paused, smiling slightly. "And is it really that unusual? I think I should be offended."
Lucius leaned back in his chair, interlinking his fingers in his lap before him as the computer worked and smiled. He arched a disbelieving eyebrow at the rather out of character admission from the young man until things clicked into place. Fox chuckled lightly to himself at the realization, drawing a questioning look from the billionaire. "Ah. Trying to make sure you stay out of Miss Isley's sights then, Mister Wayne? Again, I have to say, that's kind of unlike you."
Bruce grinned and leaned forward, his forearms resting on the back of the chair. "Trying to ensure I'm her next target, actually. Thought she might react well to a little bait."
Lucius snorted and shook his head. "Well, that's certainly more in line with what I've come to expect. You sure that's such a good idea?"
The younger man fidgeted a little with his fingers, staring down at them. "Honestly? No idea. But I figure it's worth a shot. Something's gotta be done. Getting her off the street certainly wouldn't hurt things and after Greenwood I saw the opportunity."
Lucius nodded and continued scanning the computer monitor, scrolling down occasionally. Every now and then he'd click on something, read over a few passages and exit back out, looking for something that might help. There was decidedly little.
"Well," he finally said, "I'm afraid I may not be of much help. We run things pretty tightly in order to fully comply with every EPA directive in the book. Unfortunately for you, since Mister Earle's...departure we've become one of the world leaders in forwarding green technologies and development and Wayne Development built more LEED accredited buildings last year than any other builder on Earth. You might not be coming to the best place to lure out an eco-terrorist."
He crossed around from behind the high backed chair and finally sat down.
"Well, can we acquire one?"
And with that things promised to start getting even more interesting. And expensive. It wasn't that the young man didn't have any concept of money. In fact, given what he was worth he probably had a greater sense than most would have in his position. Lucius chose to credit that to his time traveling abroad. What he knew of it anyway.
Cautiously, Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Acquire what exactly?"
"One that is polluting. Badly." He said it like it was something done every day.
Lucius placed his glasses on the desktop and reached up to massage his temple. "So, let me get this straight," he started. "You want to spend millions, possibly tens of millions, to buy a company that is already being heavily fined and scrutinized by the government and Environmental Protection Agency, likely causing a huge public backlash, angering the board, and decreasing the value of Wayne Enterprises stock so you can lure out a murderer?"
Wayne shrugged. "We'd fix all the problems once she was in custody. We could spin it as Wayne Enterprise's desire to help clean-up the world or something after the fact."
Lucius fought off the temptation to roll his eyes, but couldn't help sarcastically smirking. "Oh, of course. That goes without saying."
Wayne sat back into the chair, slouching ever so slightly in resignation. "When you say it like that...well, it kind of loses a little...something, doesn't it?" The young man arched an eyebrow. "And tens of millions? Really?"
"Well, it would have to be something with a large enough profile to draw her attention, now wouldn't it?"
The frown on Bruce's face deepened. "I guess I didn't necessarily think this out all the way," he muttered.
Ordinarily Fox wouldn't volunteer to trick a serial killer into marking a friend as their next target. With Bruce though, or rather his other persona, he'd be taking her on anyway one way or the other. As far as he was concerned it was at least better to do it as part of some kind of plan than to be surprised.
With Poison Ivy surprises had a way of being...deadly.
"Listen," he finally said, looking back at the computer monitor, "I'm sure we can come up something that won't involve jeopardizing the company's quarterly report, okay? Just give me some time to think about it and look around. We're bound to have an Environmental Impact Report around here somewhere for something that never actually moved forward. We can leak it and let the media catch wind for a while before admitting it's incorrect." Lucius glanced over to his billionaire employer and smiled deviously. "Either way, Mister Wayne, I'm sure I can come up with something that'll bring her right to your doorstep."
A/N: LEED is an accreditation system that actually exists and is placed on environmentally designed and built projects to highlight them in either Bronze, Silver, or Platinum categories.
Equally, an Environmental Impact Report is a real thing. It's a document that is required of all proposed projects (within the U.S.) that highlights every single impact that project will have on the environment. Everything from water use, to habitat interference, to additional traffic, and pollution levels.
Not the most interesting or action packed chapter ever, but it had to be included. Story is progressing and you're starting to see a little indication as to where it's going. There'll still be some twists though. I think.
Now, go review.