Though the sun had set, the men and women who made their livings at the temporary location of City Hall were only now beginning to leave, whether it was to head home, run a few errands, or making a less than wholesome detour. Instead of the majesty that was the original building, the inner workings of the city's government had moved into a nondescript, multi-story building that looked like any ordinary office building. Sure, there were countless windows, but it wasn't the same.

A new building, currently being planned out and a location cleared out, was in the works because there were certain luxuries the old one had that the new one didn't. Bureaucrats, as it turned out, could not go backwards in working lifestyles.

Perhaps the only part of this temporary location that was acceptable was the lobby; it was much more modern and matched with the look of Gotham as it was in the modern day. It may not have had as much history as the old one did, but for individuals who happened to have come from the private sector, this was much more comfortable for them to walk through early in the morning and late at night.

That was before an SUV crashed through the front entrance and kept going until it hit the front desk. For those just exiting, there was some disbelief at this occurrence which warred with a more mundane feeling of "Again?" Cue the panic as government employees began to run for another exit, hoping to escape whatever was happening this time. Security guards were running towards the crashed vehicle, firearms unholstered and ready to be fired.

Unfortunately for the fleeing employees, the other exits were blocked off by other vehicles, which were accompanied by armed men marching through the doors and shooting in the air. Like scared sheep, they ran back the way they came, hoping to find another way out. The sudden turn in panicking people caused the guards to turn towards this latest disturbance, many cursing as they began to run to this new threat.

This building only had three major entrances: the north, the east, and the south. From the south had come the initial charge of that SUV. From north entrance, the armed men were accompanied by a blond-haired man in a red vest with a falconer's glove on his left arm. He commanded the men to spread out and secure all they could, take hostages if they were able. As security rushed to meet them and began to open fire, the Santa Priscan mercenaries returned it, turning that portion of the floor into a shootout.

From the east, a certain masked man larger than any of the invaders stomped his way through, showing absolutely no signs of emotion at the panic of the people, or the bloodthirstiness of his men. In fact, the men with him turned their guns on anyone running away and began to fire. Security personnel that happened to appear were gunned down immediately, unable to react fast enough to return fire, or find cover.

The death and carnage meant nothing to the man in charge of the operation.

The gunfire only stopped when Bane moved around the men and began to increase his speed. He left orders to secure the elevators and stairs. No one was allowed to try to escape, especially if they happened to be a high-ranking government official.

There were plans for them.

Stopping only to gaze at a directory, Bane took it upon himself to use the stairs. He did not have the patience to wait for the elevator to descend and ascend. In his mind, this would be quicker and continue the quick momentum of the plan.

Reaching a certain floor, he examined the doors, specifically the assigned room numbers. He took a right, keeping a quick pace. There was resistance up ahead, more security guards, which was to be expected. Punching a hand into a nearby door, he yanked the wooden barrier out of its hinged and used it as a shield just as the guards began to firing. Not expecting it to cover him for long, the masked man charged forward and rammed the uniformed men, trampling over them.

He could feel the impacts against the door, which only urged him forward. By the time he reached the end of the hallway, he had left a trail of bodies in his wake. Some of the guards were groaning from whatever injuries they had received while others were more silent.

Casting aside the ruined door, the masked man glanced at the nearest room number and took a left. Silently counting the increase in numbers, he came to a stop in front of one of them. Like everything else on this floor, the door in front of him looked like all the others. It was a small plaque next to it that had his attention. There were a few words on it, but that was all he needed to justify raising up a bloodied, booted foot and kicking it into the wood-based surface.

He barely felt anything resist his foot, and down the door went, revealing a small waiting room. Of course, Americans had to have waiting rooms for everything. What that ended up amounting to was kicking in another door and there, there was his prize.

A man cowering behind his desk, peeking over it with a frightened eye.

Standing tall, arms at his sides, Bane stated, "You are Mayor Sebastian Hady."

The man behind the desk winced, his body language giving him away. Had it been visible, Bane would have smiled at the sight.

Instead, he began to approach the government official. "I have a use for you and you will fulfill it."

Whatever Gordon had been expecting out of the Iceberg Lounge, this hadn't been it. Everything here was upper crust, not dim and lower class. The floor was smooth, so much so it looked like you could slip on it just by stepping on it. The tables looked like they could cost a pretty penny, and what kind of dishes were those? They almost looked like crystal. And were those silver candlesticks holding the candles?

Let's not forget that in the center of the large dining area was a railed off portion that had a body of water in it. Sticking out of it was a large piece of what looked like either glass or, as it was designed to appear, ice. Had to be some kind of transparent plastic; Gordon supposed that this was where the iceberg theme was emphasized.

Off to the left was the bar with some finely-dressed bartenders cleaning classes. On the far wall was a large opening where the Commissioner could have sworn were slot machines. He was going to have to look up what the state of legalized gambling in the city was. He knew that Hady had been a big supporter of it. With everything happening with Blackgate and later Bane, he had been distracted.

However, he was led up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, which must have had private rooms. His big, burly guide stopped in front of a door and opened it, gesturing for the glasses-wearing man to enter. It was as if he was saying "After you," as if he had suddenly developed manners just by walking through this place.

Gordon eyed the man suspiciously, but accepted the "invitation." As soon as he got a good look as to who was in this room, he came to an abrupt stop, his eyes widening and nostrils flaring.

"Well, well, it's quite an honour to see ya, Com'issioner," greeted the ugly, fat, short and squat form of Oswald Cobblepot, known to the rest of the world the Penguin. The bastard was lounging on a couch, a very attractive woman at his side sitting prim and proper. "Had I known you were comin', why, I'd tidy up the place a bit more. Come in, take a seat."

"The hell do you think you're doing!" Gordon demanded, his fingers itching for his sidearm. He never reached for it because he knew about the large man behind him, the one that had led him through the Lounge. He hadn't left and the Commissioner was under no illusion that he wasn't packing heat himself. Cobblepot wouldn't be so stupid as to not be armed, or have one of his flunkies armed.

"Now, I think it's obvious. I'm a legit businessman, Gordon and this, this is my place o' business," Cobblepot answered, looking like he had no care in the world. After everything he had done, he should be.

"You? Legit? You kidnapped my daughter, you goddamn bastard!" he roared back, his body trembling with rage. "You should be rotting in goddamn Blackgate, you son of a bitch!"

"Funny thin', I got paroled. Time off for good behavior," the monocle—goddamn it, that bastard was wearing a monocle—wearing man replied. Cobblepot held up a cigarette holder, a lit cigarette placed in it, and put it in his mouth. Breathing out a puff of smoke, he continued, "Since I learnt my lesson, crime doesn't pay and all, I decided I was goin' ta give somethin' back to the city that's given me everythin', and get paid for it while I was at it. You know, that ol' American dream. No hard feelin's 'bout that business back then, eh?"

"What part of 'you kidnapped my daughter' don't you understand?" Gordon growled, taking a step forward. He could feel the presence of that large man behind him and so stopped where he was. "I should put two in your head!"

"Mr. Cobblepot has reformed, Commissioner Gordon. You can't come to his establishment and slander him with that kind of language," the woman beside the crook spoke up.

However, bizarrely, it was Cobblepot who spoke up in Gordon's defense. "Now, now, Ms. Lark, I did him a bad one long ago. He has e'ery right to not be...happy 'bout my release. It's the least I can do after that sordid affair with...what was her name again? Ah yes, Bar—"

"You don't have the right to say her name," the angry commissioner snarled, interrupting the short man.

"Fair 'nough," Cobblepot allowed. "Howe'er, my tolerance for any disrespect is limited, Com'issioner. Whether ya like it or not, we're on the same side, you and I."

"The hell are you talking about? We're not on the same side," Gordon retorted. What ideas this bastard had, he didn't care where he had come up with them—they were wrong. There was no way in hell he would ever be on the same side as Oswald Cobblepot.

"Don't be too hasty, my friend. Like you, I love this city," the crime boss said. "'fore my parents took me off to jolly ol' England, the Cobblepots used to be a big name 'ere. It's why I crossed the pond to come back 'ere. An' even though I've only become a free man recently, I know there is only one thin' that's for certain."

Here, Cobblepot paused, taking a moment to lick his lips. He had removed that cigarette from his mouth, though he held it casually between two fingers. Gordon was humoring him, though not really caring what he was saying.

"Bane is bad for business."

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "And that's suppose to mean something to me?"

"After all the crap he has put you and your boys in, why, I'd 'ave thought you would agree with that." Cobblepot took a moment to take another inhale on his smoke. "He's givin' this city a right thrashin'. This ain't good for anybody who gives a lick o' what goes on in 'ere. If he has it his way, Bane will take all o' Gotham, not just the criminal part, but yours as well. He wants it all, see. No competition whatsoever and he plans ta get rid o' all his rivals, including you, Com'issioner."

He frowned at that piece of information. "Me?"

"Bane's not goin' to be some master o' the underworld; he's goin' to be the law o' Gotham. That means gettin' rid o' you law folk. And you, Com'issioner? You're right smack dab on the top o' his list 'cause you're the one that leads all the cops 'ere. Your number may not 'ave come up yet, but you better believe it's only a matter o' time. You need me if you want ta save your skin."

While it was unnerving what this man was saying, and he couldn't dismiss the accusations, Gordon still held doubts, especially with that last part. "I fail to see that. It'll be a cold day in hell before I ever need you."

"Hope you 'ave your winter coat on, Gordon, 'cause someone just turned off the pilot light," Cobblepot chuckled. The crime boss' face then grew serious. "Tell me, 'ave you e'er figured out who busted open Blackgate some time ago?"

"What does that—"

"'Cause when I played follow the leader during that whole business, I fully intended ta leave Gotham, only I found out I couldn't. There were these Hispanic blokes blocking the way, refusing ta let anybody get out. They told us the only way we could was if we offed the Bat. If not, they was goin' ta load us up with so many bullets, we'd die of the lead poisonin' 'fore the blood loss killed us.

"Which got me thinkin'. An' after I got back to the big city, I did some digging o' my own. Someone broke us all out for a reason; it wasn't some accident. Take a wild guess who I found on the other end, so to speak, the one armin' those illegals and trapping us all 'ere?"

"Bane?" That was the only name that came to mind, and now Gordon was worried. If what Cobblepot was saying was true, then everything that had been happening these past several weeks had started much earlier, back when Blackgate was attacked.

"Right on the money, Gordon. You're smarter than most people give you credit for. Yes, it was Bane who sprung us and now I know what you're thinkin'. Why? Why do that? I'll save ya some time and tell you. Attackin' Blackgate was a means ta take care o' a rival, the only one that could 'ave challenged him, an' that was the Batman. As we all can see, it worked. Most blokes try to go after the city first an' let Batman come to them, muckin' e'erything up, but Bane is smart too. Never doubt that.

"That's the thin', though. When you think e'erythin' is goin' your way, that's when you're most vulnerable. What you see before you now is your ticket to takin' Bane down, Com'issioner. That's right, I managed to find myself a niche in Bane's operation an' I'm offerin' to let you take advantage o' it to save this city, provided, o' course, that you don't interfere with my business. It's a fair deal, wouldn't you say?"

Things began to click in his head. The little details, the questions, all of it was coming together. "You've been calling in those tips so that so you could worm your way in. Now that you are, you want to bargain your way with me so that you can rebuild your own organization without fear that I'll bust you up."

"Now, now, don't be gettin' your undies in a twist 'ere. Sure, I get somethin' out o' it, but we both want the same thin'," Cobblepot stated. "You can't tell me you 'ave somethin' better lined up, and, oh, would you look at that, I've done most o' the hard work for ya, thank you very much. In fact, I've gone 'bove an' beyond, too. I could 'ave just kept this all to myself and continued actin' like your guardian angel, but I wanted you ta find me, Gordon. That's the only real reason you're 'ere; because I allowed it."

Cobblepot couldn't have put it better unless he was saying flat out "I'm using you." This was a deal with the devil that was being offered to Gordon, one with the promise of stopping Bane and saving Gotham.

But he couldn't forget about that phone call, the voice of his terrified daughter, and the threats to hurt her, if not outright kill her. He knew, oh he knew, what this bastard was capable of and this Good Samaritan martyr act he was trying to pull off was a means to an end. Cobblepot had every intention of saving his own hide while profiting from it.

Yet, if his claim was true, that he had an in with Bane, why shouldn't he use it? Who was the lesser of the two evils here?

"Trust me when I tell you this, I 'ave done a lot more reformin' than you think I 'ave." Now Cobblepot was trying to persuade him, and brush away their past history while he was at it. "I'll be your undercover operative and you don't 'ave to risk any o' your cop buddies. But for the time bein', if I am to do this, you will look the other way when it's one o' my operations. We can renegotiate once that masked devil is out o' the picture. What do ya say? There's no one else in Gotham that can deliver on what I'm offerin'."

Gordon balled his hands into fists. If Cobblepot thought he had a silver tongue, he was so wrong. It was the tactical part of him that had yet to flat out refuse.

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Cobblepot stated. "And since we'll be workin' with one 'nother for the time bein', let me tell you that Bane has somethin' goin' down tonight. If I was you, I would go and get your boys geared up and ready for a fight. Better hurry 'fore the fireworks get started, if ya know what I'm sayin'."

The Commissioner could only glare, but he said nothing. What else could he say...except, "Don't get too comfortable, Cobblepot. I'll be coming for you next."

"O' course, o' course," the threatened man dismissed with a wave of his hand. Then, as if a thought had occurred to him, "'fore you take your leave, I'd like ta add that you won't 'ave to worry 'bout dear ol' Barbara. From what I've heard, she's been through enough as it is."

The temptation to ignore protect and serve and pull out his gun had never been stronger. Spinning on his heel, Gordon moved around his guide through this horrible blast from the past and left the private room. No sooner had he crossed that threshold was he taking out his phone.

Before he could dial a number, it began to ring, almost startling him. With a quick swipe on the screen, he put the device up to his head and said, "Gordon."

A moment later, he came to a sudden stop. "What happened?!"

The sirens grew louder, coupled with the squealing of rubber across asphalt as the squad cars skidded to a stop. From all streets, the police showed up in force, stopping as they took positions in front of City Hall. Squad car doors were thrown open as officers flooded out, taking position behind the open doors and cars as they trained their guns on the building. Others went about establishing a perimeter, sealing off the area for police use only.

Moments later, SWAT arrived, their trucks skidding to a stop behind the squad cars. Petit had his door flying open before his ride even came to a complete stop. Springing out, he was striding towards the former office building, gesturing towards his subordinates. "I want a line right here," he indicated towards the front of their makeshift barricade. "No one comes out of the building unless their hands are held high, or restrained."

He then pointed to a couple nearby buildings. "I want snipers up there, the sooner the better. If anyone moves by the windows, they are authorized to fire."

There was an immediate flurry of activity once his orders had been laid down. It hadn't taken very long for word to reach every cop in the city that Bane had launched another attack, this time right at the heart of Gotham's government. The mayor was currently a hostage, or dead at this point.

Right now, Petit had had enough. Bane's commando tactics had gone too far a long time ago and he was emboldened with the GCPD's weak response. Never mind the ammo busts, or even that one ambush they had tried, the fact Bane was still standing despite their efforts had proven they had been ineffectual. It was time for new tactics.

No more was he willing to give this maniac all the time he wanted to solidify his position. If him or any of his boys got in the line of fire, they were dead men, plain and simple. With Petit as the highest ranking officer out here, it fell to him to take charge and take charge he would.

"Where's my SWAT team?!" he barked at a nearby officer, one that was strapped with a flak jacket.

"Almost here, Sir," the man immediately responded. "They're a couple blocks away."

Good. "I want them locked and loaded," he ordered. "Once we're ready, we're going in."

Bright lights suddenly turned on thanks to the spotlight crews. Bright lights appeared on the face of the building, their wide circles moving all over the bricks and windows. This would give his snipers a better view of their targets.

"Bill!" a voice cried out.

Petit turned his head just in time to see Gordon's Mrs. storming towards him. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded as she came to stand in front of him, her red hair whipping about in the breeze that just blew in.

"What does it look like, Gordon? I'm taking charge," he stated the obvious. "We're in a tactical situation and I'm the man for that job."

"Tell you men to stand down," Sarah Gordon ordered. "We don't know what we're dealing with and we shouldn't send SWAT in blind. Not until we get some intel."

"Like hell I will!" Petit threw a hand out to gesture towards City Hall. "That Bane freak has our mayor—probably dead by now. We know that freak is in there; this is our best chance to take him out."

"That isn't your call to make," the redhead spat back. "That's the Commissioner's and Jim is on his way. We wait until he gets here to—"

"Stand down, Gordon," the white-haired man growled. "You are out of your depth here. Your husband is too damn far away to change anything. By the time he gets here, Bane could be long gone. He could take hostages with him, or just murder everyone inside. I'm not going to just sit here and let him do that. Once my men are in place, we're going to kick some ass. Now you're either with me, or against me."

To Sarah's credit, she didn't back down, stealing her features as she held herself straight. "I'm giving you an order, Petit: stand down, or face a suspension."

Petit's eyes blazed with anger. "First off, Lieutenant, you can't make that call. I'm the one that runs SWAT and I make the calls on whether they're deployed or not. The only person that supersedes my authority, is the Commissioner and when he's absent, I'm in charge. That means you couldn't suspend me even if you wanted to. Now get out of my way, Lieutenant, or I'll have you escorted off the perimeter."

"Goddamn it, Bill!" Sarah roared at him. "There are innocent people in there! If we go in now, we're putting them at risk! Can't you see that? I don't care who's got jurisdictional control; the most important thing is that we resolve this without more bloodshed. We need to know how many people are in there, how many are armed, and where they're at. Anything less and we're just killing them!"

"This isn't my first rodeo," Petit snapped back. By then, he caught sight of his SWAT teams hustling through the perimeter, worming their way around the squad cars and trucks as they approached the front. About damn time too. "Now stand aside. It's time to show these sons of bitches we're not taking their shit anymore."

"I'm warning you, Bill," Sarah warned.

"Then considered me warned." By that point, Petit turned his back on Gordon and marched towards the hood of a car, where a couple of his men had placed a blueprint of the office building. "Forget the back doors," he instructed as he began jabbing his finger at various places on the blueprint. "No doubt Bane is expecting us to go in through there, so he'll have them watched. The same goes for the front. I want to go in on the sides. The moment we're in, we regroup on the inside and seal off every conceivable exit. No way are we letting this assholes out of that building alive."

Blinding lights swept over the windows, moving from one side to the other. Bane stood before one such window, the light moving from his left to his right, not stopping once.

He could see the GCPD was alive with activity. They had arrived just as he expected, forming a perimeter around this building from all sides. He could even see the presence of their tactical teams grouping and planning out their strategies.

They would matter not. No doubt they would be coming through the back. Trip wires had been placed there the moment his forces had seized the building and its occupants. Those traps would stun whatever strike team would attempt it, warning them off for some time. They wouldn't be trying the front since it went without saying how protected that side would be.

That left the sides of City Hall and those would be the likely attack points. It was a classic pincer maneuver and one that would be effective on lesser foes. Bane, on the other hand, wanted the SWAT teams to come in through there. The first signs of minimal patrols would encourage such a move.

That's when he saw them. Like winding, black snakes, the SWAT teams began advancing from the perimeter, doing their best to keep out of sight among the police vehicles. Their efforts mattered not.

Raising a walkie-talkie, Bane spoke, "They are coming. Leave no survivors."

"Let's go! Let's go!" the captain ordered as SWAT Team Alpha marched to their designated strike point. Team Beta was doing the same on the other side of City Hall and both teams needed to be ready to go for their simultaneous strike.

It was fortunate Petit was in charge and not one of Gordon's flunkies. Regular cops and detectives had no mind for combat scenarios and often allowed a situation to devolve until force was the only option left. That usually created an even deadlier scenario with the bad guys having staked out the best vantage points and ready to meet whatever attack they launched.

Not tonight. They would be striking while the iron was hot. Bane had only been here less than an hour. That wasn't enough time to organize and set up shop.

Team Alpha reached their mark and all of the men came to a stop, facing the side of City Hall. Last minute checks of their weapons were immediately performed, magazines in place, bullet chambers loaded. "Alpha in place," the captain reported into his radio.

A moment later and Team Beta repeated the same. "Beta in place."

"Give 'em hell," Petit immediately responded. "Green light to SWAT incursion."

Immediately, the captain hustled towards City Hall, his men hot on his heels. They reached the side entrance door in a matter of seconds, the captain and the next man taking position on either side of the door. The others began to line up behind them save for one, who carried a handheld battering ram. Without breaking stride, he rushed up to the door and swung the battering ram, hitting the door right below the door knob.

Immediately, the lock broke along with the metal paneling, the door swinging inward. The Captain instantly leaned out from his cover, checking his corner before backing off. His opposite did the same, but then darted inside, followed by the Captain. One after the other, Team Alpha slipped into City Hall, checking their corners as they posted themselves up and down the hallway they entered.

The corridor was lit up thanks in part to Bane keeping them on and the GCPD not cutting off the power to the building. A typical tactic was to cut off the electricity in order to sweat the bad guys out and make conditions unbearable. Because they were skipping over the typical hostage negotiations, everything was very much like it was when Bane invaded.

Reaching a doorway, the captain paused long enough for another of his men to station himself on the other side. With a sharp nod to each other, the captain grabbed the door knob and turned it, shoving the door open.

The moment his opposite moved to check his corner, a hail of bullets blasted through the open doorway, hitting the man point blank. The SWAT member cried out as he was thrown backwards, hitting the wall opposite the door, his blood splattering all over the sheetrock.

"Sergio!" the captain cried out just before the wall behind him exploded, bullets ripping through it. Jerking his head around, the captain watched as a trail of bullet holes traveled the whole way down the hallway he had come down, hitting a couple more of his men as others dropped to the floor to avoid the sudden gunfire.

"Return fire!" one of them cried out as the team turned all of their guns on the wall and opened fire. The hallway lit up with flashing light from each fired bullet, the wall itself beginning to crumble as it was blasted into.

Suddenly, that was when the opposite wall was blasted with bullets, their attackers shooting through the wall much like the first one. Team Alpha never saw it coming as a couple more was struck in their backs, causing them to cry out before they fell to the floor.

"Alpha Team's taking fire!" the captain roared into his radio as he took a knee. Grabbing a grenade from his vest, he pulled the pin and tossed it through the open doorway, hearing some cries before an explosion erupted, shaking the hallway, if not the building from the blast. Smoke came rushing through the doorway along with the bullet holes in the wall.

"I repeat, Alpha Team is taking fire!" he repeated on the radio even as he turned to face the other wall and opened fire.

That was when a door further down the corridor swung open, causing the captain to jerk his head in its direction. His stomach dropped as he spotted Bane's men pouring out into the hall, aiming their guns right at the SWAT team.

Jesus Christ, they had walked into an ambush.