Chapter 8: Home Invasion

A tired James Gordon was coming to the end of a long shift. He had just finished booking a gang for racketeering, which comes with a long, triplicate set of paperwork to fill out. For each person. As quite possibly the least superstitious person on the force, he thought that the old adage of saying 'quiet' ending up with the rest of your shift being a living hell was simply an old wives' tale, mixed with frequent coincidences. To make a point, Gordon would often say the word 'quiet' as many times as possible to upset his colleagues, as a way of keeping himself entertained during the long hours at the precinct.

As Guard Aaron Cash, on loan from Arkham Asylum, was trying to work his way through digitising files, after an incident with Killer Croc, which left him with a missing left hand and a hook where it used to be, Gordon came up behind him, and started up a conversation with his fast-found friend, "Hey, Cash, how's it going?" Cash sighed and hung his head, "Not too well, Commissioner. Still don't have the best control over the new hook. I keep pressing the wrong buttons." Gordon leaned on the table, and crossed his hands, "I can get you transferred to something else. I've told you before, there's no point in you being here if you hate what you're doing." Cash shook his head, "No, thank you, Sir. I need to keep working on my dexterity with the hook. Besides, it's not that bad. I'm left alone most of the time, so not many distractions."

Gordon nodded his head agreeably, "If you insist. But any change in your attitude towards this, don't hesitate to ask me to change you to booking. It's all writing and you're right handed anyway. You'll do great. Thanks for doing this for us." Gordon stood up and started walking towards the door, but turned on his heels as he remembered something, "Also, you wouldn't mind talking to my daughter sometime, would ya? She's fascinated with criminal psychology at the moment and I think you'd have some good stories to tell her. If that's okay, of course?" Cash turned in his seat and smiled, "Of course, Commissioner." Gordon smiled back and replied, "Thanks. Hope we have a quiet night."

As Gordon was walking out of the IT room, an loud explosion was heard as the lights dimmed down and a deep, red glow filled the rooms. Gordon walked up to the front desk and asked a guard what was going on. Ducking behind the desk and cocking his rifle, he replied, "Large group of armed men have busted open the front door, they're trying to get in. Can't get an exact number, they took out the external cameras and the power cut has turned off the internal ones." Gordon ran over to the armoury, where a dozen and change guards were trying to prepare themselves for whatever was about to come through the door, "Men, we have an active takeover situation. We've trained for this, you know what to do. Arm up and take defensive positions."

This rousing speech amped up morale a tad in the face of such a frightening situation. As Gordon pulled on his Kevlar vest and loaded a rifle, Cash entered the armoury, "Commissioner, I may only have one hand, but I'm still an asset in a fight. I've been having a go at the firing range since I got the new hook, and I'm still a dab hand at shooting." Gordon nodded, "Grab a vest and rifle, set yourself up behind the front desk, with Alvarez. I'm sure you know how to conduct yourself in times like these so I won't waste time. Just keep yourself safe." Cash strapped on a vest, only slightly struggling with the straps on his left side due to the hook, but was able to lock and load a gun with no difficulty whatsoever.

Gordon set himself up behind a flipped over table behind the second to last door to the precinct proper. From the front gate to the main precinct floor, there were a total of 4 reinforced steel doors, all connected with twisted corridors specifically designed for defensive cover in situations like this. A pair of officers were situated behind each corner after the first door, the same with the next door. Behind the third door, at every corner, a desk or sandbags were set up as cover from incoming fire, which 4-8 officers where stationed at. The main precinct floor had the majority of the officers situated behind the main desk, which was reinforced with concrete between the outer layers of wood, with more officers in cover behind desks and sandbags around the door. All in all, there were around 50 officers locked and loaded, ready for whatever was about to come through those doors.

Gordon heard a quiet blast of gunfire emanating from the hallways in front. A few seconds later, more gunfire, but this time, slightly louder. This continued for a few minutes, until the gunfire sounded like it was right outside the door. Gordon rarely felt scared, but this was one of those times. Whoever was on the other side of that door had gunned down half of a precinct's trained officers without so much as having to retreat for a single moment. He thought of Barbara, his daughter, and what would happen to her if he were to die. He knew he had a will set out for thoughts like that, as every sane cop does, but a little irrational itch in the back of his mind was keeping him from forgetting about it. He thought about his late wife, and whether he would see her again if he did die.

Now was not the time for these thoughts. Now was the time for action. He snapped himself out of it and readied his gun, and shouted an order towards the invaders, "Don't come any closer! If you drop your weapons and come quietly, we may be able to get you a plea! I repeat, if you come any closer we will open fire! We outnumber you!" This attempt at a bluff seemed to deter the attackers, as there was no sign of further advance. Gordon slowly lowered his rifle, thinking his lie had worked. In fact, the attackers probably outnumbered the small police force by three to one, from the sounds of the gunfire that had ceased moments ago.

The group of police with Gordon also lowered their guns, and as a consequence, their guards. As they did this, the door opened just a slight bit, to which the officers jumped up and readied their guns. But it did not open further. Gordon shouted, "Are you surrendering!?" No answer was given. Gordon's heart was racing. His senses seemed to be heightened, as he was able to hear every single movement the people in the room did, every breath they took, every time they tightened their grip on the rubber-gripped handles of their rifles;

And the small, metallic dings of a grenade being thrown through the door.

"GRENADE!" Gordon shouted, diving out of the way, behind the concrete wall. The other officers were not so lucky. The grenade went off, sending shrapnel and debris down the hall, just past Gordon's face. He heard the screams of the officers he had just dived away from, as well as those behind him, at the next checkpoint. He saw an old friend, Detective Pinkney, lying on the ground in front of him, his face littered with small fragments of the grenade shell, with the wounds covered in sand from their, now demolished, cover. Gordon realised how open he was to incoming fire and darted back towards the main precinct, his heavy stomping alerting the invaders to his still-alive presence, "There's one still alive! Get him!"

Gordon had dropped his rifle when he dived, leaving him defenseless. As he sprinted towards the officers who now had their guns trained on him, he waved his arms towards the next door, signalling them to fall back. They heeded this order and upped sticks, also darting towards the precinct door. They knocked on the door to indicate that they were not the intruders, and promptly entered through the door, taking up positions behind more sandbags. Gordon took a place beside Cash, and filled him in on the situation, "They've got grenades. They must be a lot more well-equipped than we first thought. Still no idea who they are or what they want."

Time seemed to stand still, but the attackers moved ever closer. The rapid breathing of people who were seemingly facing death became shallower and shallower. Gordon tightened his grip on his gun and aimed down the sights. The heavy footsteps of the advancing attackers seemed to get quieter, as if they had stopped moving. Gordon hoped this meant that a sort of deus ex machina had occurred, and that they had changed their minds and left the building. But he knew it meant they were readying themselves for their next firefight.

A rough, but familiar voice came from behind the door, "Gordon! We just want Gordon." Gordon raised his eyebrows and replied, "You just murdered 30 police officers, you don't get to negotiate! Either surrender, or we will open fire!" Cash turned to Gordon, "That who I think it is?" Gordon exhaled and nodded, "Dent." Gordon spoke up again, "Dent, if you come through those doors, you will be met with lethal force! We have dozens of people armed with high caliber rifles!" In reality, there were about 20. Two-Face snarled, "Don't call me that! You know my name! You ruined my life, Gordon! I'll make you pay..."

Cash looked at Gordon, surprised, "What'd you do to ruin his life?" Gordon sighed, "I didn't put enough security on him on the night he got burned." Cash shook his head, "That's not your fault, Gordon. Even with extra security, you can't protect someone against the building they're in being blown up." Gordon sighed a second time, "I know, I know. But I still feel guilty." Cash spoke up again this time, "Dent! Come quietly and I'll make sure they give you a cell with a toilet!" Two-Face replied sarcastically, "Cash? That you? How's the hand?" Gordon called up a few high-ranking officers to give them a plan, "When I give the order, you're going to open fire on the door. Cash and I will slip out through the back and catch them unawares. Be ready to charge through the doors and take any stragglers out. We'll make sure they're not aiming at you."

The men went back to their positions and Gordon readied himself, "Dent! You're not getting me alive, so I guess you'll just have to kill me!" There came no reply. Gordon raised his head, "Dent!?" Again, Two-Face didn't answer. Gordon slowly stood up, giving the signal for everyone to lower their weapons, and carefully walked towards the door. He took a deep breath, readied his gun, and kicked open the door. He was greeted by Two-Face tied up, on the ground, surrounded by a dozen or so unconscious thugs. He looked up, and saw a dark, cloaked figure standing at the end of the corridor.

"Batman. What happened?" Batman walked forward, putting his hand out to shake Gordon's "Most of them ran off. These were the few that stayed. Dent was too scared to even move." Gordon smiled and thanked Batman, then opened the doors to the precinct and giving the all clear. Batman looked back to the carnage down the hall, "You lost a lot of good people tonight. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner." Gordon shook his head, "That's not your burden to carry. It's our job to protect this house. You just happened to help us out a bit. Well, more than a bit. You saved our asses, is what I'm trying to say." Batman lowered his head to look at Two-Face, "Lock this man up."